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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

As much as Louisa wanted to blame her forgetfulness and confusion on sleep deprivation, there was something else too. A hidden reason – one that had lain dormant for a long time. The timing of the memories, or visions – whatever they were – and seeing Oliver again were no coincidence. The way she was reacting now was linked to all of it, she felt sure.

Louisa’s party had set off a chain of events and now they were in motion, she felt powerless to prevent the direction they were heading in. With Oliver back in her life, however much uninvited, Louisa was going to have to face her past.

17

THE VISIT

Wednesday a.m. – Day 5 post-party

Thanks to Brian bottle-feeding Noah during the night, Louisa had managed to sleep solidly for four hours. Annoyingly, the other hours she could’ve spent asleep were wasted because her mind wouldn’t switch off – thoughts of Oliver, Melissa, the visions and half-formed memories all preventing it.

Emily had darted out the door this morning not long after Brian left for work, leaving in a state of annoyance because she didn’t have a clean school shirt. It was Louisa’s fault, of course. And the argument that ensued did nothing to allay Louisa’s fear that she was ‘losing it’. She had picked up Emily’s dirty laundry yesterday, and she had a clear memory of putting it in the washing machine. But when Louisa stormed upstairs, shouting about the fact Emily didn’t ever look properly – she found the pile in the same place on the bedroom floor where she’d first encountered it. Emily had rolled her eyes, hastily putting on yesterday’s shirt and leaving before getting into a conversation about it.

It was the exasperation on Emily’s face that’d hurt. Like she was fed up with having to put up with her mother’s inability to remember things. It was more than that, though. Louisa felt sure Emily was avoiding being left alone with her. She couldn’t get away quick enough in the mornings and she’d come home later than she’d promised last night. Her assertion it was because the project took longer to complete didn’t ring true. Louisa got the distinct impression Emily wanted to spend as much time out of the house as she possibly could. It was conceivable that was part of being a normal teenager, but it was equally possible it was because she thought her mum was going mad.