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Back The Widow Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. PART I
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. PART II
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. 82
  87. 83
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. MORE FROM VALERIE KEOGH
  90. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  91. The Murder List
  92. About Boldwood Books

The day ahead of her wasn’t going to be easy and she wasn’t sure if having Portia with her was going to be a hindrance or a help. Allison groaned and stretched her arms over her head. Grief was an easy blanket to drape around herself. She knew the part she was expected to play. Most of it was easy. Peter’s death had hit her with a sadness she hadn’t expected. Despite his old-fashioned nonsense about anything domestic being her responsibility, his habit of vanishing into his office for hours, abandoning her, even despite his rather dreary conversation about nothing citing confidentiality when she asked about his clients, when she probed for something – anything – interesting to talk about, despite it all, hadn’t it been good? And looking back, hadn’t she been happy?

He’d never spoken to her in anger, never offered her violence of any sort. Bored her with his insistence they were deliciously happy, annoyed her with his obsession with having a family, bored her rigid with his clumsy lovemaking. Poor man. She’d tried to make him happy but hadn’t it all been as fake as the photographs she posted on her socials, most of which were acquired from free photo sites? Once or twice, when she let the mask of the good wife slip, she’d seen Peter look at her with a puzzled expression on his handsome face and she’d had to hurry to reassure him.

Gullible as he’d been, it had been easy.

She would miss the good bits… the pleasure of walking into a restaurant with a handsome man, the unaccustomed delight in strolling hand in hand, Peter’s obvious affection. Peter.

She pushed him from her head. Concentrate on the positives. She was now a wealthy widow, a homeowner, and she could finally have the life she wanted.

27

Despite the triple glazing, Allison could hear the twittering of the hedge sparrows in the holly bush outside and knew the day had dawned. She pulled on a robe and opened her bedroom door quietly. On the landing, the growl from the spare bedroom was louder. Portia, thank goodness, was still asleep.

It wasn’t an easy house to move around quietly. Several of the steps on the stairway creaked loudly. Allison skipped over the ones she could and hoped the rest would be drowned by Portia’s snore. The plumbing was another matter. As soon as she turned on the tap in the kitchen, a gurgle travelled along what appeared to be every pipe in the house. Enough water for a pot of coffee and silence was restored. Luckily, it was warm enough not to need the heating on because the pipes would whistle, and the floorboards over them would creak – a noisy duet that would disturb even the heaviest sleeper.