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
I hear his disdain and feel weak and weary to the point of dying. I don’t think I can take any more of this day. I haven’t got the strength in me to hide my feelings for him. ‘What are you doing here, Nick?’
‘I’m not talking to you whilst you’re near that thing,’ he says, pointing at the gun now lying on the lawn. ‘And where the hell did you get it, anyway?’ He looks me up and down. ‘Shit, Lisa, you look like you’ve been pulled through a hedge backwards.’
Perhaps he’s trying to be funny. ‘You’re wrong – I push myself forwards through them,’ I say, meaning to sound sharp. Instead I just sound like I’m about to cry.
‘Where did you get a shotgun?’
‘I just borrowed it,’ I tell him.
He rolls his eyes. ‘You are not bringing that thing in this house with my son and grandson in here.’
I want to tell him that I wasn’t going to – that I’d already changed my mind – but suddenly I’m too exhausted to even speak. I don’t move.
He knows me so well that he adds to his point. ‘Lisa. If you don’t move away from that gun, I will call the local police myself. I should do it anyway. Unless, of course, you’ve got a licence for it?’
I am just too tired to talk about the gun. I’m still stunned he’s here.
‘Even if you have,’ he adds, eyes narrowing, ‘I’m guessing you don’t want the police here. I’m guessing you’re still avoiding them at all costs, after what you’ve done?’
I leave the gun where it is and walk towards the door. We are now close enough to touch. Oh, baby, how I still miss you. Don’t ever think that I don’t. I told you I would never give you up, and I haven’t.
But I don’t stay that. Instead I ask: ‘Why are you here?’ I’m slow to process but I’m amazed to find I’m both pleased to see him but also frightened. I don’t know what this means.
He drops his hand away from the door and stands aside to allow me entry to my own kitchen. ‘Jack asked me to come.’
‘Jack?’ I’m distracted by the moan of relief as my hurt, tired, beaten-up feet step onto the cool kitchen tiles. For a moment, I imagined Jack finding my mobile and somehow managing to call Nick. But of course, it was ridiculous – he doesn’t have his number.
He knows me so well, he’s followed my train of thought. ‘Your son. Your son who is called Jack.’