Chapters (81)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Dedication
- Prologue
- 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
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Read More
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Follow Merilyn online
- Dedication
‘Mary, listen to me. If this baby sees the light of day there will be no more “us”. No more new clothes or nights out – I’ll not be allowed near you. Is that what you want?’
Everything is unravelling too fast and I don’t know what to do. Alf pulls me in and as tears run down my cheeks I move in closer, desperate for his warmth and size to block out the fear I’m feeling.
‘So, you’ll help me get rid of it, yeah?’
I look at Aoife, but the panic in her eyes, like a cornered wild animal’s, makes me run from her.
‘Yes.’
His arm relaxes across my shoulders; he kisses my hair. ‘Good.’
‘No.’ Aoife’s voice is bigger than she is; it fills the room as she stands and shouts, ‘You will not kill my baby!’
And there it is. Admission it’s hers, not ‘ours’.
Alf strides across and pushes his face in hers. ‘Then I’ll bloody kill you,’ he says. But this time, Aoife doesn’t shrink or buckle under his threat; instead she says:
‘Go ahead. Kill me.’
So Alf obliges and slams her head into the table.
Thirty-nine
Nell unclicked her seat belt and picked up her notebook from the footwell. She looked down the street where a lone man was walking his shopping home, shoulders hunched from the weight. She nodded to the phone box across from the flat. ‘That must be the one, but check the number just in case.’
‘Will do. Positioned well, if you wanted to check on the occupants of the flat,’ Paul added.
‘Have you got the picture?’ Nell had two printouts of the still from the CCTV, the best they could get of the woman who had entered Connor’s flat, but she didn’t hold out much hope they would jog anyone’s memory.
Paul waved his copy at her. ‘I’ll take the right, you take the left.’
Outside the air was thick with heat; a shimmer covered the road, suggesting pools of water that weren’t there.
‘If this heat doesn’t end soon I’m going to die.’ Paul’s face was already glistening, and Nell held her hair up, glad of the smallest brush of air on the nape of her neck. Cars passed slowly, windows open, radio DJs unwittingly competing to give their week’s song a shout-out.
Paul crossed the road, leaving Nell to approach a peeling red wooden door, with its broken buzzer and sealed-up letter box. She knocked and waited before knocking again. When she heard footsteps she took out the CCTV picture and her warrant card and held them up.
A woman in a headscarf peered through the crack in the door, metal chain in place. ‘Yes?’
Nell shoved her warrant card through the gap. ‘DS Jackson, Thames Valley Police. Can I ask you a few questions?’
‘Yes?’
The woman didn’t move. Nell smiled.