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Back When I Lost You Save as PDF
Chapters (81)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Prologue
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-one
  26. Twenty-two
  27. Twenty-three
  28. Twenty-four
  29. Twenty-five
  30. Twenty-six
  31. Twenty-seven
  32. Twenty-eight
  33. Twenty-nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-one
  36. Thirty-two
  37. Thirty-three
  38. Thirty-four
  39. Thirty-five
  40. Thirty-six
  41. Thirty-seven
  42. Thirty-eight
  43. Thirty-nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-one
  46. Forty-two
  47. Forty-three
  48. Forty-four
  49. Forty-five
  50. Forty-six
  51. Forty-seven
  52. Forty-eight
  53. Forty-nine
  54. Fifty
  55. Fifty-one
  56. Fifty-two
  57. Fifty-three
  58. Fifty-four
  59. Fifty-five
  60. Fifty-six
  61. Fifty-seven
  62. Fifty-eight
  63. Fifty-nine
  64. Sixty
  65. Sixty-one
  66. Sixty-two
  67. Sixty-three
  68. Sixty-four
  69. Sixty-five
  70. Sixty-six
  71. Sixty-seven
  72. Epilogue
  73. Acknowledgments
  74. Read More
  75. Prologue
  76. One
  77. Two
  78. Three
  79. Four
  80. Follow Merilyn online
  81. Dedication

‘Maybe the social worker would remember?’

Nell glanced at the clock. ‘How far away is that?’

‘Forty minutes.’

‘Fancy a trip out? I’ll drop you home after.’

Carla thought about her empty flat, the phone call she wished she hadn’t seen from Gerry. ‘Sure. Why not.’

Forty-two

Then

The beach is cold and I shiver. I look down at Aoife and want to curl up with her. Is she dead yet? I daren’t check. The waves crash behind me and I wish they would scoop me up and take me back out with them.

Alf has brought the container of petrol he uses to fire up his generator. It’s blue, like Aoife’s eyes. I can see the liquid in the moonlight settling now the container is still. At least she will be warm, I think, and then I feel a surge of laughter rise in me. I am not really here, I tell myself, this is not really happening. If I say it long enough maybe it will be true.

‘What about the baby?’ I have no idea how to save it and I feel hope turn to panic. I scramble to order my thoughts but they jump around my head like ping-pong balls.

Alf leans over and pulls the knife from my skirt. ‘Cut it out, of course.’

I stand there, speechless. Shocked he knew it was there, panic-stricken at what he is about to do.

‘Then we take it away from here and bury it somewhere different,’ he says, ‘so the two bodies can’t be linked.’

I want to say ‘I’m not doing that,’ but my mouth won’t form the words. I feel as if Aoife’s stomach is watching me, waiting for me to act in its defence, but the only defence I can offer it seems to be inaction and that’s no help at all.

When Alf kneels next to Aoife’s stomach, I turn my back. Please be dead, please don’t feel pain when he cuts you. Please be dead. I repeat this in my head until I hear the smallest of noises from behind me.

I turn and scream. The blood has stained the sand red and there’s so much of it I feel it could drown me. My head swims and I sit down hard against the dunes.

Then I see it. This red little bit of life trying to cry out into the world, trying to wriggle free of Alf’s arms, and I think, You’ve got Aoife’s spirit, my little thing.

Alf is staring at it, its cries getting stronger as it learns to breathe. I stand. ‘Give it to me.’