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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

Looking out into the night, I remember the distant farm. West, in the direction that the sun falls, I don’t know anything about it, but I’ve seen the house and outbuildings as I’ve stood looking at the sunset. Although I don’t know who lives there – or even if it’s occupied – I suspect it’s my best option. It’s certainly a lot nearer and there’s likely to be a farmer and dogs and help. I’m pinning all my hope on an idea in the distance, but right now, it’s the best I’ve got. Worst-case scenario, I’ll push on to Cleasong if there’s no one there.

I turn back to whisper to Jack that I’m not leaving him but instead going to get him help, but what I see then dumps fear into my blood.

Upstairs, the curtains in Jack’s room have now been drawn.

Pulling Jack’s curtains closed is the last thing I do at night. I check on him, shut his curtains, then clean my teeth and go to bed. Jack loves to lie in bed and see the sky as he goes to sleep. He loves to see the stars; we’ve even angled his bed so he has the perfect view. When we lived in town, the light pollution was so bad it meant he couldn’t really see anything of any worth, but it’s wonderful here in the dark of the countryside. It’s been a surprise and a delight to discover how much Jack loves stargazing. Only yesterday, I was scouring the internet looking for a bargain telescope that I can surprise him with for Christmas.

But the curtains are shut already.

That means that Jack might already be asleep, and if that’s the case, his dad will be coming to look for me.

I plunge on, hitting my hedge, and push, fighting, my way through it. I emerge on the other side, scratched, falling forwards onto a field, but the cottage is behind me now and I don’t look back again.

Twenty-Eight

twenty-eight:

– now –

Jack. I could only think of him. His name held on my breath and my heart. My feet tramp plunging, pistoning, ploughing on through the mud field. My wet, socked feet are already numb with cold but I punch forward, not looking back.

Fear keeps me running – pushing me forward.

In my mind it’s like he’s right there, running close behind me, his breath on my neck. Sometimes he’s carrying a broom handle, sometimes a petrol can. But in my worst dreams he holds out Winston to me in his arms – an awful offering. Winston is still alive despite his broken back, his back legs flopping. And as he holds the dog, yelping and whining in great pain, he’s always laughing, his face the same grimace of humour that I imagine he had when he killed Winston.