BooksBarbecue
Back What I Did Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-One
  25. Twenty-Two
  26. Twenty-Three
  27. Twenty-Four
  28. Twenty-Five
  29. Twenty-Six
  30. Twenty-Seven
  31. Twenty-Eight
  32. Twenty-Nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-One
  35. Thirty-Two
  36. Thirty-Three
  37. Thirty-Four
  38. Thirty-Five
  39. Thirty-Six
  40. Thirty-Seven
  41. Thirty-Eight
  42. Thirty-Nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty-One
  45. Forty-Two
  46. Forty-Three
  47. Forty-Four
  48. Forty-Five
  49. Forty-Six
  50. Forty-Seven
  51. Forty-Eight
  52. Forty-Nine
  53. Fifty
  54. Fifty-One
  55. Fifty-Two
  56. Fifty-Three
  57. Fifty-Four
  58. Fifty-Five
  59. Fifty-Six
  60. Fifty-Seven
  61. Fifty-Eight
  62. Fifty-Nine
  63. Sixty
  64. Sixty-One
  65. Sixty-Two
  66. Sixty-Three
  67. Sixty-Four
  68. Sixty-Five
  69. Sixty-Six
  70. Sixty-Seven
  71. Sixty-Eight
  72. Sixty-Nine
  73. Seventy
  74. Seventy-One
  75. Seventy-Two
  76. Seventy-Three
  77. Seventy-Four
  78. Seventy-Five
  79. Seventy-Six
  80. Seventy-Seven
  81. Seventy-Eight
  82. Seventy-Nine
  83. Eighty
  84. Epilogue
  85. Acknowledgements
  86. Extract from To Keep You Safe
  87. About the Author

The closest we came to having a meaningful discussion was once when she was watching me feed him baby food. I’d been making new recipes – not in the ‘I need to be perfect’ way that I had done for my son, but more relaxed, enjoying using butternut squash and other veg I didn’t have easy access to when my Jack was a baby. I marvelled at how easy it was, uncertain as to why I had found it so stressful the first time round. It wasn’t as if I didn’t have a baby to look after – Selena came round at nine in the morning and stayed until five. But as I made the food and then spooned it into his beautiful mouth, it was good for me to laugh at my previous self, to see me as I was and how out of proportion I’d got things.

The person it may not have been good for, was Selena. She graduated from sitting in my garden, to sleeping on my couch during the day. She was the silent, ever-present shadow in the house, a ghost – there, but not really there. I thought it was because she was up during the night breastfeeding, but she became sleepier the older Jack got. She got thinner in front of me and slipped further away from the living, day after day.

Perhaps it was drug abuse. Perhaps . . . something else.

As I stand looking at the cottage, carrying a gun that might make her son an orphan tonight, I realise there’s sinning not just by action, but also by omission. I might not have really known much about her, but I could sense that Selena was unhappy and I didn’t do anything about it. I had lived with my son and I knew – better than anyone – what he was like and I didn’t check in with her. I had the power, perhaps, to change her situation and I did nothing. We didn’t talk but that wasn’t all it was, it was also that I didn’t want to risk her not bringing Jack to see me anymore. And now she was dead.

The coroner ruled that she’d overdosed after injecting oxycodone after a long history of heroin abuse. I think of the long sleeves she used to always wear, even when it was warm. The coroner noted she’d switched to oxycodone, but there were no details available as to why. At the time, I wondered if she’d lost her usual supply, and desperate, stolen them from my own internet-ordered hoard.

I think of Mungo in the woods. I think of Winston. Images of so many awful things flash through my mind. I feel a huge, overwhelming sense of sorrow infect me. With it is an understanding more terrible. Something I had stubbornly ignored.