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
It occurs to me, standing there at the farmhouse’s shut front door, that perhaps I’m not the most vulnerable person when choosing between me and him. Of course, Jack is – indisputably – the most in need of protection. But it suddenly seems to me that perhaps I haven’t finished my job of being a mother to my son. Yes, he’s twenty-five and yes, he doesn’t want me to parent him. But his anger makes him so vulnerable. And as his mother, I haven’t stopped wanting to help him.
I hated my own mother being in prison and I would hate for my son to be there. The way he’s going, perhaps it’s inevitable. But if I could get Jack away from him, make Jack safe, and if I could find a way of making my son listen to me, perhaps I could – perhaps – still make a difference. I want to throw apologies at his feet. I want to beg forgiveness. I want to explain about myself, about my childhood, about my struggles. I want him to hear me.
I want him to know that I see him.
But none of that will happen if he gets a choice. The gun is perhaps the answer because it might force him to listen to me. A crazy, terrible answer, but perhaps the only one available. I still want to save him, despite what he has done. I still love him. I thought when I saw the cage that my love had finally died, but it seems not. It seems that it can withstand anything. My love for him is Teflon.
Still – still – I have to try to save him. Perhaps the gun offers a way to turn this around, perhaps there’s only one plan that means I can still stand a chance of saving both my son and my grandson.
I look up at the farmhouse and realise I need to find a way to break in.
Forty-Five
forty-five:
– before –
To rescue my grandson from the monstrosity, I realised I needed a weapon. Time was short and I had to get Jack out of this horror show of a flat.
I ripped open cupboards, pulled out drawers. The cupboards were almost empty of food – what did they eat? The kitchen was in reasonable shape so it only took seconds to find the knife drawer and choose the one I wanted.
Jack had turned his back to me, Bunny pressed up against his face.
I sawed up and down, seeing the black tape fray. After a minute, Jack turned his head and said: ‘D-D-D-Daddy w-w-w-w-won’t want you doing that,’ but I didn’t answer.