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
Nick’s forehead creases with annoyance and he presses his fingers against his temples. ‘Jack. Goodness, Lisa, if I’d stayed with you, you’d have driven me to drink.’
I want to say something biting but I’m thinking about my mum’s funeral; I want to know what Mrs Dale said about me not being there, but all I can do right now is try to imagine my son upset.
I can’t imagine it. Instead, I remember him being upset about his Peter Rabbit money-box. Thinking of the tears, the snot, the absolute rage, I remember what he did. I also remember what Nick did, his standing by and watching our son attack me for too long before he finally stepped in and stopped it. He later apologised: he’d called me names and was furious himself, but he knew he was in the wrong.
I forgave him, though, because I shouldn’t have broken it. Neither of us always got everything right.
‘We thought you’d be there, Lisa, and you weren’t.’
I don’t need to look at him to hear his surprise and disappointment.
‘We thought you would turn up and Jack would be dressed in a little black suit and you’d apologise—’
‘Apologise! Apologise? For saving Jack?’
‘What did you have to save him from?’ Nick’s hand is flat against the table, but I notice that its tightening to a fist. ‘What? He had a place in a great school; he lived mostly with you but also saw your mum and his dad every week. Jack had been the most settled he’d been in years, he had a job and was finally doing okay, he’d managed to rent a lovely flat, but you ruined it—’
‘How do you know the flat was lovely?’
‘I viewed it with him and then gave him the deposit.’
‘You?’
‘Yes. Who else was going to help him?’
My mouth is incredibly dry. ‘Why didn’t you come and see me, if you were in the area?’
Nick rubs his face; I know he’s tired. ‘Sorry.’ He shrugs a little. ‘I should’ve done. Planned to, even. But we were buzzing around, so busy with getting furniture, prices for carpets and things, and Amelia – my daughter – had a dance thing one time and flu another and I had to get back, you know, long drive back and all.’ He shrugged again. ‘I meant to, though. Wanted to.’ He pats my hand, the dry gesture that should only be reserved for maiden aunts.
‘Well, what about when I rang you? I rang to tell you that Jack had turned up, wanting Jack at the weekends, and you never said you knew about it!’