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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

Finally released, she made her get-away with a final wave to both. Only inside the taxi did she relax, tense shoulders drooping. As the car pulled away, she looked back to the house and saw Portia and Stuart standing framed in the doorway, his arm around her shoulder. Both had a hand in the air. Not moving. Royal waves.

Allison raised hers in response, letting it flop onto her lap as they were lost to view.

She laid her head back onto the headrest and by the time the taxi had negotiated London traffic to her home, she’d managed to dismiss her imaginings. She didn’t need a psychology degree, or even some of Portia’s rather dubious courses, to know stress was responsible.

Allison caught her eyes in the rear-view mirror. Was it as simple as that? She was looking at Stuart and seeing a monster when she knew the monster was inside her, not very deep either. Only a few layers of civilised behaviour, manners and polish coated it. But they’d never cracked, not once over the years. Till recently. She was back in control now but perhaps there were after-effects.

Poor Stuart had got in the way. That was all. She’d imagined the rest.

When the taxi drew up outside her house… her house… satisfaction swept over her. It might take a little longer than she’d expected but soon she’d have enough money to give up her job and live the life she’d always wanted.

Inside, she switched on lights and walked from room to room, seeing each in a new light, making mental notes about what to do when the funds were released. She’d given up the idea of selling it. The house was in a good street, a good area. She’d planned to travel but wanted somewhere to come home to. In the future, she might rent it out. Lots of plans. Lots of options.

Upstairs, she stared at the king-size bed she’d shared with Peter. It was time to start a new chapter of her life. She stripped the bed linen and remade the bed with fresh, crisp sheets, slipping her two pillows into their slips, tossing Peter’s through the doorway of the spare bedroom, where they landed to sag against the wall.

It was early but she was tired and despite the couple of painkillers she’d taken, the headache still simmered. A few minutes later, naked between the clean cotton, her future a rosy glow before her, she easily brought herself to a deep, satisfying orgasm. Before the pulsing pleasure had faded, she was asleep.

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