BooksBarbecue
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

Brown took out his handkerchief again and blotted his top lip and forehead as if the stress of his disclosures were causing him to melt. ‘Perhaps, under the circumstances, it would be best not to expedite the death certificate. Until it’s released, I’m not obliged to settle his estate. It would give you a few months to make decisions about your future.’

She’d have to rent an apartment. Smaller than her last one. In a cheaper area. Her future had been so determined, she’d allowed herself to indulge in expensive clothes, bags, shoes. Using her savings. She still had some – not enough, though. She was back to where she’d started… further back.

Peter had fooled her completely.

Silence weighed heavily in the room. The solicitor had obviously said all he needed to say and Allison, unable to think of one word that wasn’t scatological or blasphemous, sat silently even when the solicitor got to his feet.

‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve heard anything from the police.’ He shuffled uncertainly as she continued to sit, staring blankly into space. ‘Don’t get up. I’ll show myself out.’

She didn’t move for a long time after she heard the quiet clunk of the front door shutting behind him and then only to smooth a trembling hand over her forehead as if to soothe the thoughts that were hammering against her skull.

What a mess.

All her brilliant plans reduced to rubble.

She thought she’d been so clever. Seeing what she wanted to see, she’d never realised it was all smoke and shadows. Peter. She almost admired him. Sadly, if she’d known the truth, she’d never have married him… if she hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been on the platform at that time… wouldn’t have died.

She thought his death had finally given her the life she’d craved… how ironic that it had, in fact, pushed it further out of reach.

She’d thought she’d covered every eventuality, and she had, apart from one. That Peter was a bigger liar than she was.

46

Luckily, Jo wasn’t easily bored, because little happened on the street where Allison lived. Neighbours slid into cars and drove away, giving her only a glimpse of designer jeans, large leather bags, expensively highlighted hair. All the trappings of middle-class England. Jo didn’t envy what they had, but she did their casual belief it was all theirs by right. Only a childhood steeped in love could imbue such self-belief. It wasn’t something you could buy, and this was the hardest to accept.