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
Although I really wanted to see inside the cottage, I realised with a dragging anxiety that I would now have to wake a sweaty Jack who was stretched out over the back seat of our old Volvo. The journey had been long and the air con wasn’t working, and he’d nodded off. I’d left all the doors open and had been careful to park in the shade. But he’d still be hot on waking; we were all hot, too hot and the suffocating heat felt like it’d already lasted forever.
I debated leaving Jack asleep in the car: it would be so much easier to look around this cottage on my own. Getting the cottage was such a big decision and I wished again that I had someone to bounce big decisions off. For a moment I missed my mother; the longing for her – or maybe just another adult to talk to – was so overwhelming, I felt glad for the privacy of my sunglasses.
‘Shall we get started?’ The estate agent opened the front door and disappeared into the darkness of the cottage.
I had to follow. I trailed obediently after him into the cottage, leaving Jack alone. Guilt snagged like skin on a fish hook, my mind whispering: Don’t leave him! You have to guard him!
Stop it, Lisa, I told myself. I wanted to get a grip on my anxiety. How could I hold the estate agent up? He’d have another appointment lined up after this one, and getting Jack up and settled, ready for a viewing, would take too long. I regretted not being more organised.
This move would be a fresh start for us both; not just to give Jack stability, but to give me a chance at being a better parent. Someone organised, thoughtful, prepared; someone who planned ahead. Someone who filled lunchboxes with flapjacks carefully covered with beeswax squares; someone who folded their children’s clothes carefully into drawers rather than wedging them in to fit; someone who patiently walked their children round National Trust gardens.
I stepped into the low-ceilinged hall, leaving Jack behind. I stood in the square room, trying to breathe slowly, not feeling like the calm parent of National Trust gardens or neat drawers. Instead, I felt compulsive and wild. The urge to dart back and get Jack was overwhelming. But it was too late – the viewing had already started. Lisa, I told myself: focus. Be better. If it isn’t safe here, my rational self countered, then why are we moving here?
I inhaled; exhaled, centred myself.