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
Someone is upstairs. I feel both relief and terror that I have to go further up – I have to find out for sure that Jack is all right and that it’s his father with him. A guess is not enough, even if it’s an educated guess.
I slowly start to transfer my weight again but stiffen: I hear heavy footsteps. The floorboards run across the squeaky joists so I hear him before I hear a bedroom door opening. I think, from the direction, it’s Jack’s bedroom. I crouch a little lower, shut my eyes and grip my knife: I desperately hope that I’m still too low in the stairwell to be seen. And then:
‘I’m just going to the loo, Jack, choose a story and I’ll be right back to read it to you.’
It’s him; it’s him; it’s him!
Then: Jack’s alive; Jack’s alive; Jack’s alive!
I hear him cross into the bathroom and I’m almost crying with fear and relief.
There’s peeing, then the loo flush and he’s back out on the landing. There’s a pause: has he seen me?
I don’t dare to open my eyes but I must, I know, because I can’t defend myself with my eyes shut but I’m just too scared do it. Lisa, do it now – there’s no one there. No one. Relief.
Then he pulls the light cord and I hear it ping up and hit the mirror and it’s a little darker, then there are heavy steps back into Jack’s bedroom. I smell woodsmoke and I realise he’s lit a fire in Jack’s bedroom. Something Jack’s always wanted but I’ve never allowed. So typical of him to swoop in and be the hero. The door clicks shut and for a moment I allow myself to lean my forehead against the wall and shut my eyes again.
I’m dizzy with new information and the adrenaline dumped in my system. I realise that I have to decide now if I am going to go up and challenge him (then what? How far will you take this? He has a knife too! What about Jack?) or if I can do something else.
I feel much less brave than even a few minutes ago and so desperately want to do the something else. Feeling pathetic with my kitchen knife and not liking the idea of charging into Jack’s bedroom wielding it as he’s having a story read to him, I decide to retreat back to the kitchen to regroup. I push my knife into my waistband at the back where it digs a little against my T-shirt, a reassuring pressure. I can hardly attack his dad in front of him. To confront him, with Jack there, is out of the question.
But what else is there when it seems I’m out of options?