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Back The Missing Wife Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. THE MISSING WIFE
  2. PRAISE FOR SAM CARRINGTON
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. THE EPILOGUE
  58. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  59. Prologue
  60. Chapter One
  61. Chapter Two
  62. About the Author
  63. By the same author
  64. About the Publisher

With one of Noah’s large cot blankets draped over her, Louisa sat, legs tucked beneath her, in the corner of the sofa. She’d been grateful for the hot tea Brian made as soon as they returned home from Tiff’s and, finally, she was beginning to feel warmth radiating from her insides to her skin. After he’d given her the tea and placed the blanket around her shoulders, Brian had left the lounge and gone upstairs. Louisa checked her mobile for the time. He’d been up there for almost an hour. Her heart pounded, her upper body pulsing along with it, its rhythm – steady, but fast. She not only felt it, she could hear it inside her head as well.

Like a ticking bomb.

Brian obviously wanted to be alone. Louisa wondered what inner battle he was having right now. Was he grieving her loss? What exactly had he lost – a friend? A lover?

Another sob burst from her. She shouldn’t even be thinking that. Why was she still assuming her husband and best friend were up to no good? Had been up to no good.

Noah began crying. Louisa sank further down on the sofa, laying her head on the arm. She was so tired. Emily would respond to Noah’s cries, take over for a bit. Louisa was in no fit state.

She closed her eyes, trying to replace the images of blood, blonde hair soaked red, pale skin and a lifeless body, by screwing them up tight, causing blackness to take over, then colours and patterns to swim behind her lids. She used to press hard on her closed eyes when she was a child, enjoying the kaleidoscope effect it had. Now though, she knew it wouldn’t last – that the hideous images would return and would never leave her.

The last image she’d seen of her best friend would haunt her almost as much as their last conversation.

39

THE GATHERING

Sunday p.m. – Day 16 post-party

As they all stood in the kitchen, Louisa couldn’t help but think of Tiff in hers, of what the paramedic had said about it being one of the rooms in the house where an accident was most likely to occur. She’d been told that the other was the bathroom. It was obvious, really.

Louisa eyed Oliver as he spoke about his shock to hear that Tiff had died. Brian had insisted on informing him, despite Louisa arguing against it. ‘It’s nothing to do with him, Brian; he hardly knows her.’

Brian had countered that with: ‘He’s our friend, and what affects us, affects him.’ Louisa had laughed, much to his apparent annoyance. He had at least given her a day – waiting to tell Oliver until a few hours ago, but it had clearly been a difficult decision – now they were best buddies, Brian felt compelled to share the devastating news with him.