BooksBarbecue
Back When I Lost You
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

‘Good morning, Rachel.’ My mum is pouring me tea into a china cup; she doesn’t make eye contact. I smooth down my dress – suitable length, high enough collar – and smile at my dad.

‘Yes, thank you. It was nice to be back in my old bed,’ I lied.

My dad nodded, pulled the napkin from its brass ring and lay it on his lap. ‘Rather small for you now, I imagine. It’s good Simon doesn’t go out often.’ There is a hardness to his tone which takes me by surprise – my parents adore Simon; he is, after all, my protector, the way they once were. Taking the cup in both hands I decide I must have misread the tone. I’m unsettled, paranoid; I just need to get through breakfast, call a taxi and get home.

‘Your father and I will drive you home,’ my mum says, stirring her cup with an antique spoon. I try to look relaxed.

‘Oh, please don’t worry, I’m fine taking a taxi.’

My mum looks up at me – eyes blue in their deep-set sockets – and holds my stare before I look down.

‘Nonsense,’ she says. ‘It’s been decided. And we’d love to see Simon. We haven’t seen our son-in-law for weeks.’

There it is, that tone again. What’s happened? What’s been said behind my back, am I in trouble? I feel suddenly cold – do they know I went to find Alice? Do they blame Simon for not being there to stop me? But no, that’s impossible, I was careful, so so careful.

I put the cup down and dig my nails into my wrists, pushing down hard to ease the pressure I’m feeling, willing myself to draw blood so I can get some escape from it. My mum puts a sausage on my plate along with a slice of fried bread. The smell turns my stomach, as it has done for the last twenty-eight years, the smell of grease making me feel faint.

‘Eat up,’ she says with a bright smile. ‘And then we can go.’

Simon opens the door to us and, as he hugs me, I can smell sourness on his breath and cigarettes in his hair. As he greets my parents, who stare disapprovingly at the stubble on his chin, I sense the same tension I felt in their tone. Simon leads them to the front room, with its grand fireplace and sweeping views of the garden, as I go to make tea, but as I set the cups on the tray, I see I am shaking.