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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

It feels vital to me that if I neglected him, then I’m sorry. I want him to know that he can reach me – he always did. I didn’t show it enough, I believe him, but I’ve never not loved him.

With shaking fingers I reach out and do something I haven’t done in so, so long, and touch him kindly. He’s still my child, no matter what he’s done, what’ve I’ve done. There’s nothing he could do that would make me feel any different. Motherhood has always been both my love affair and my greatest challenge. My fingers brush his jaw but he starts like a bull stung by a wasp.

Irritation burns in his eyes. ‘I am who I am.’

‘But—’

‘No. Don’t pity me because I don’t need it.’

‘I’m sorry for what I did – and didn’t do . . .’ I touch him again, so lightly.

His irritation brews in his face and I know he’s not pretending. He was such an angry baby, such an angry child. He let me take care of him, dress him, feed him, but I could never reach him. I don’t think I ever stopped trying, but I certainly stopped believing. Maybe that amounts to the same thing in the end. He certainly felt the gap. We both did.

But I can’t stop trying, even now: I take his hand in both of my own. For a moment it rests there, for a moment I think he’s going to allow it. With one swift moment he whips it free and, still seated, he must have pushed the kitchen table hard, because it’s suddenly slamming into me.

The force of it takes me by surprise and it catches me in the stomach, hard. It pushes me back and I fall back from my chair. As I’m falling I hear another noise:

Bang!

I hear this over the sound of me falling to the floor, over the sound of my oomph! as the air is knocked out of me, over the sound of my chair clattering against the tiles. The bang, I realise, is from the back door being slammed open. From the angle of looking up from the floor, the face of the figure at the door is obscured by the table. But I still know who it is, I recognise those legs. My son, I note, doesn’t even turn round to see who has arrived.

I think he already knows.

Seventy-Six

seventy-six:

– now –

‘What have you done to her?’ Nick bellows, advancing on us. He’s above me, reaching down. He takes my hand in his and pulls me up. He checks I’m all right before turning on our son. ‘I know what you did!’