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
Love is amazing: how it endures even through the duress of such wanton destruction. It seems even fire doesn’t turn it to ash, but instead melds into something tougher, more enduring. I could’ve never believed it possible. I think of my mum, what she would say if she knew I still loved my son despite what he did to her, what he did to the residents of Sunningdale. Regardless of what Nick says, I still believe my truth. And I believe that she would just love him anyway – my mother was full of love. She loved being his Nana.
‘Why didn’t you say something if you saw me there?’
‘None of my business if you want to creep round your own home. Besides, I was being a good boy. Dad told me to leave you alone, so I did.’ He pats the table as if he wants me to sit. ‘I’d would’ve poured you a glass, but it’s not your poison, is it, Lisa?’
I keep my hand on the door; my escape hatch. Like I could leave if I wanted to.
‘Come on, come and sit down.’ He grins. ‘No point hanging around like you’re going to leg it across the fields again. Although ten out of ten for effort that you did it in your socks.’ He looks me up and down. ‘No offence, but you look like you need a rest, now.’
‘What did you do with my shoes?’
‘They’re just neat and tidy in the bottom of your wardrobe. No drama.’
I pull the chair back; it scrapes loudly against the slate tiles and without thinking, I glance upstairs, always on the lookout for waking Jack.
He wrinkles a lip: ‘Don’t worry about him – he couldn’t wake if I exploded a bomb.’
Suddenly I understand: ‘What did you do to him?’
His face turns towards me suddenly – again that pretence of face and near eye contact without the real thing: ‘Only what you did to me.’
I press my fingertips against the wood grain as if it will suppress the scream building in me: ‘How dare you. What did you use?’
‘Relax Lisa, nothing of yours. But cut the indignant crap: you used to drug me all the time.’
‘I didn’t – how can you say such things?’
‘Now, now Lisa. Is that really true? Or is that just one of the lies you tell yourself so you don’t have to engage with what a shit mother you’ve been?’ His handsome face twists to a sneer. ‘To me anyway. Of course you’re Mother of the Year to Jack.’
There’s too much to react to; I just blink, exhausted.
‘Would you,’ he says, mimicking my voice now, ‘like your Sleepy now, dear? It’s soooo yummy!’
It sounds grotesque coming from him.