Chapters (76)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Also by Emma Curtis
- Praise for Emma Curtis
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- PART 1
- GRACE
- GRACE
- TAISIE
- GRACE
- TAISIE
- GRACE
- NICK
- GRACE
- TAISIE
- GRACE
- NICK
- GRACE
- TAISIE
- GRACE
- NICK
- GRACE
- TAISIE
- GRACE
- NICK
- GRACE
- NICK
- GRACE
- TAISIE
- GRACE
- TAISIE
- GRACE
- NICK
- GRACE
- TAISIE
- GRACE
- NICK
- GRACE
- TAISIE
- GRACE
- TAISIE
- GRACE
- NICK
- GRACE
- TAISIE
- PART 2
- GRACE
- GRACE
- GRACE
- GRACE
- GRACE
- GRACE
- GRACE
- PART 3
- ANNA
- GRACE
- ANNA
- GRACE
- ANNA
- GRACE
- NICK
- GRACE
- NICK
- GRACE
- ANNA
- GRACE
- NICK
- GRACE
- ANNA
- GRACE
- ANNA
- GRACE
- ANNA
- GRACE
- Acknowledgements
The children tidied up after supper, the boys on washing-up duty while the girls cleared the table. Taisie made her way round to where Tim was sitting and let her hip lightly brush his arm as she leaned to take his plate. When she came back out, she plonked herself down on the vacated chair beside him and picked up a half-full glass of wine. Her mother stared at her until she caught her eye.
‘I think you can do without that, don’t you, darling?’ she said.
Taisie held the stem of the glass tightly and raised it to her lips. The wine had warmed and tasted horrible, but she drank it anyway.
‘For goodness’ sake, Taisie, don’t be so immature.’
‘Come on, Jess,’ Tim said. ‘Cut her some slack. We’re on holiday, and she’s practically an adult.’
Her mother softened, as she always did around Nick’s dad, behaving like a cat being stroked. Taisie pushed the glass away. It was late, and she felt drowsy. She stared at the moths flitting round the candles, then dropped her head on Tim’s shoulder. Through half-closed eyes, she saw both Nick and her mum watching. Good.
‘Sleepy, kiddo?’ Tim asked.
‘Mmm.’
‘Taisie,’ her mother said. ‘You haven’t finished clearing the table yet.’
There was an edge to her voice that made Taisie’s hackles rise, but she got up anyway and picked up the salad bowl, leaning across Tim to get at it. She swung her hips as she walked away, thinking of his eyes on her denim-covered bottom and tanned legs, but when she glanced over her shoulder he was leaning back so that he could talk to Sean behind Lorna Moody. It was her mother who was watching her.
GRACE
Tuesday, 17 April 2018
THERE ARE FIVE OF US SITTING AT MY KITCHEN TABLE, a plate of Tesco’s brownies between us; five young mothers, well dressed, well groomed, attractive and vivacious. We know each other well, and gossip comfortably about school, family, extensions, Polish builders, planning applications and paint colours. At least they do; I listen. I’m cold, even though the sun is shining through the wall of windows and the others have shed their jackets and jumpers.