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Back The Secrets He Kept
Chapters (59)
  1. Cover
  2. Prologue
  3. Chapter One
  4. Chapter Two
  5. Chapter Three
  6. Chapter Four
  7. Chapter Five
  8. Chapter Six
  9. Chapter Seven
  10. Chapter Eight
  11. Chapter Nine
  12. Chapter Ten
  13. Chapter Eleven
  14. Chapter Twelve
  15. Chapter Thirteen
  16. Chapter Fourteen
  17. Chapter Fifteen
  18. Chapter Sixteen
  19. Chapter Seventeen
  20. Chapter Eighteen
  21. Chapter Nineteen
  22. Chapter Twenty
  23. Chapter Twenty-One
  24. Chapter Twenty-Two
  25. Chapter Twenty-Three
  26. Chapter Twenty-Four
  27. Chapter Twenty-Five
  28. Chapter Twenty-Six
  29. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  30. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  31. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  32. Chapter Thirty
  33. Chapter Thirty-One
  34. Chapter Thirty-Two
  35. Chapter Thirty-Three
  36. Chapter Thirty-Four
  37. Chapter Thirty-Five
  38. Chapter Thirty-Six
  39. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  40. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  41. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  42. Chapter Forty
  43. Chapter Forty-One
  44. Chapter Forty-Two
  45. Chapter Forty-Three
  46. Chapter Forty-Four
  47. Chapter Forty-Five
  48. Chapter Forty-Six
  49. Chapter Forty-Seven
  50. Chapter Forty-Eight
  51. Chapter Forty-Nine
  52. Chapter Fifty
  53. Chapter Fifty-One
  54. Chapter Fifty-Two
  55. Two Weeks Earlier
  56. A Letter From Jackie
  57. Acknowledgements
  58. About the Author
  59. Also by Jackie Walsh

It wasn’t Tom the bouncers rang when Amber was found puking at the back of one of the sound speakers, barely conscious, having downed half a naggin of vodka. It wasn’t Tom who had to drive out and lift his little baby into the back of the car, pissed. No. He was down the local with his buddies.

When the room is decorated and the table set, I leave the house to find a cake I can stick a toy on top of and call a Thomas the Tank Engine masterpiece.

Last night I woke up a hundred times worrying about the photo on Charlie’s cell phone. In fact, I’m not sure I got any sleep at all. My imagination held me hostage as the possibilities circled my mind, keeping me from getting any worthy sleep. Was it Tom? Was it not Tom? If it is Tom’s kid, what will I do?

The night was endless. At one point I stretched my leg to Tom’s side and realized he wasn’t there. Thinking he’d gone to the loo I waited for him to return. After a while, when there was no sign of him, I decided to go and see if he was okay.

The landing was dark as I tiptoed past the boys’ room, certain I could hear Tom talking to someone – and wondering who the hell it could be in the middle of the night.

‘Tom,’ I whispered loudly. My initial reaction: something is wrong. ‘Tom.’ I arrived at the bottom of the stairs and Tom stuck his head around the kitchen door.

‘Are you on the phone, Tom?’

‘No. Just getting some water. Go back to bed.’

I turned like a good girl and did as I was told.

I park in the Tesco car park and make my way to the cake aisle. Lo and behold, what do I see but a big cake adorned with a picture of Thomas the Tank Engine! Not the three-dimensional showstopper I had ordered from Thunder’s Bakery but it would do fine.

Thanking God for the small things, I place the cake on the back seat of the car between the toddler seats and a clatter of toys when a thought zips across my mind like fire. I brought the water up to the room like I do every night. I left one on Tom’s bedside locker. Twenty bottles for two euros in Lidl. Tom’s bottle was still there this morning unopened. He didn’t go to the kitchen looking for water. He lied.

Chapter Seven