The Other Husband
Chapters (67)
- Cover
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- PART TWO
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- PART THREE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- PART FOUR
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- EPILOGUE
- Mailing list
- A Letter from Kathryn
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by Kathryn Croft
Cover
Dedication
For Leela
PROLOGUE
Abby
July
The pounding on the door forces her up. She’s still half asleep, her senses blunt, maybe she’s imagined it?
No, there it is again. And someone banging on your door at three a.m. is never a good thing.
Beside her, Rob remains asleep, in spite of the racket going on outside. He wasn’t joking all those times he’s claimed he’d be able to sleep through a hurricane.
Although Abby isn’t scared – surely nobody wishing to do them harm would draw attention to themselves in this way – her stomach twists into a tight knot.
Rushing to the window, she peers through the blinds, although from upstairs it’s impossible to see who is standing on the doorstep. Sienna’s car is parked haphazardly across the drive. It almost looks as if it would have taken more effort to get it at that angle than if she’d kept it straight. No need to wake Rob, then. Sienna has come for her.
With the hallway bathed in darkness, she almost loses her footing on the stairs in her effort to get to the door before the hammering begins again. Everything about this is wrong; Sienna isn’t the kind of person who asks for help with anything, and she isn’t the kind of person who ever needs help with anything. Abby knows without a doubt that this is something to do with her. There will be no more hiding.
Shock numbs her when she flings open the door and takes in the state of Sienna: smeared make-up under her eyes, damp hair plastered to her flushed cheeks. Despite the rain, she’s wearing only a pyjama shorts set under a long, thin cardigan, slippers on her feet, which are already soaked through. Abby manages to take in all these details, despite the rapidly spreading apprehension she feels.
Outside, rain hammers against the ground, an almost soothing distraction, the weather matching the situation as though they are characters in a literary novel.
Tick, tick, tick. Seconds pass before Sienna opens her mouth to speak, even though it’s clear she is desperate to spill what she’s come here to say. Then her words finally come.
‘Where is he?’
‘I don’t… Sienna, what’s going on? Come inside. You’re getting soaked.’ Abby beckons her in.
‘No, I won’t set foot in your house.’ Sienna’s eyes become slits. ‘Just tell me where he is.’
‘Greg? Are you talking about Greg?’ Of course Abby knows that she is.
‘Where is he?’ Sienna repeats, spitting her words at Abby.
‘I don’t know where Greg is. Why would I? Look, just tell me what’s happened.’ Again, Abby attempts to coax her inside.