‘All of that could be explained away, though, if it wasn’t for what Fiona said,’ Rachel added. ‘She told me he hurt her.’

‘So you’re saying—’

‘If Mum wanted to leave Dad, she would have needed to save a lot of money. She didn’t have any of her own. She didn’t even have a bank account. She might have been saving it for years.’

They looked at each other for a long time.

‘But do we really think Dad is abusive?’ Tully said finally. ‘Dad? Our dad?’

Rachel started to respond, but then she got distracted. Her gaze darted to the corner of the room. ‘Uh . . . Tul?’

‘What?’

‘I think Miles just took a dump on the rug.’

Tully closed her eyes.

46

HEATHER

Heather sat in the passenger side of Stephen’s Porsche. Stephen kept shooting her pensive looks from the driver’s seat. Perhaps he was worried about what she might say when they got to the hospital. If so, he needn’t have been. She wasn’t going to tell anyone what had happened; she had too much shame for that. But she wasn’t going to put up with it either. She’d seen Stephen’s true colours now, and she’d made her decision.

Before they’d got into the car, he’d mopped up the blood, checked her arm for glass and then wrapped it in a clean towel. She’d fallen hard, landing right on the smashed glass. Stephen thought one of her cuts might need stitches.

As they drove to the hospital he was every inch the concerned husband, as if her injuries had been sustained as the result of a random accident rather than at his hand. Highest on his list of concerns was what she’d told him right before he let her go.

‘You’re really pregnant?’

Heather kept her eyes forward. ‘Yes.’

‘But . . . I thought you were on the pill?’

‘I am,’ she said. ‘But I was on antibiotics a couple of months ago, so maybe it happened then. I’ve heard that antibiotics can lower the effectiveness of the pill. And I had that stomach bug a few weeks back – maybe I vomited up a pill? I don’t know! It’s a bit late to worry about that.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, you’re right.’

They lapsed back into silence. It occurred to Heather that she probably should have taken an Uber to the hospital. She also should have packed a bag. She didn’t want to have to return to that house after this.

‘I’m leaving you, Stephen,’ she said finally.

Stephen glanced away from the road in apparent surprise. ‘What?’

‘What do you mean what? Do you really need me to explain it?’

He looked back at the road. ‘I’m afraid I do.’

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I’m leaving because I won’t allow myself to be abused a moment longer.’

‘Abused? Heather, what are you talking about?’

She shook her head. She wasn’t going to fall for this again. ‘I was sober this time, Stephen, so you can’t say I was drunk and confused.’