Chapters (87)
- Cover
- Praise
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- Extract from To Keep You Safe
- About the Author
The door at the end was closed, but light spilled from the gap at the bottom – the steady light of perhaps a side lamp, not the flickering light of a TV.
I took a deep breath. In my hand, I still clutched my bag. ‘I’ve brought Jack’s spelling book!’ I repeated. Silence. ‘Hello? I’ve just popped round!’ My voice sounded too carnival bright. Danger seemed everywhere. I felt watched and couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a trap.
To get to the door at the end – the sitting room? – I would have to pass the closed doors on my right. I could open them, but I didn’t dare.
I hesitated, but decided to call out again.
And then I swear my heart stilled because in reply, beloved Jack’s voice called back in a thin, reedy voice that at once told me all was not OK: ‘G-g-g-granny?’
I wanted to rush to him, throw open the door and see him, but I didn’t dare. In my mind’s eye, I saw his father lounged out on a sofa, perhaps asleep with a can in his hand. If I rushed in . . . I could stand the violence, but I couldn’t bear for little Jack to witness it. So instead I hung back.
‘Hi!’ My voice now no longer bright, but instead clearly fearful. ‘I just wanted you to be able to do your homework . . . I wanted to give your book to your dad . . . is he there?’
Silence. Jack didn’t reply but nor did my son. I expected him to rush to the door with a What the fuck are you doing here? But there was nothing. In some ways the nothing was worse. Like a scare you know is coming on the pier ghost train, but hasn’t yet happened. I wanted this dread to be over.
‘Jack?’ I called again. ‘Can you get your dad for me, please? I don’t want to intrude,’ I added for my son’s benefit. See how thoughtful I am. Don’t hit me, I didn’t want to intrude.
Except I did.
And he would know that.
‘He’s not here.’
Again I was stumped. Not here? Not in the sitting room? I flinched, looking over my shoulder – was he about to come out of a bedroom?
‘Where is he?’
‘He’s gone out.’
I threw open the sitting-room door. Inside was a main room, sofas and a TV on one side, and against the other wall, a small dining table with two chairs. But in the middle sat a monstrosity.
What had my son done?