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
That night we fall asleep together, just as we did the night Aoife arrived. While she sleeps I lay my hand on her stomach and think of what our lives might become. We could run away together, I think. I’d get a job while Aoife stayed with the baby and we’d have a tiny flat far away from any sea: I picture faded pink wallpaper, against which sits a cot, a white mobile swaying gently above it. Yet when I look, the baby isn’t soft and pink but red and cross, bringing with her the wrath of Alf, and as she screams I know we won’t ever be free of him, however far we go.
I remove my hand and slide it under my neck. She stirs, eyes flickering, confused.
‘Hold me, please?’ She turns and I wrap my arm across her stomach, imagining a baby curled up inside her.
I realise I’m jealous. That baby is guaranteed Aoife’s forever love, regardless of what it does or how it behaves. I’ve always assumed that was my role, that Aoife came to fill the gap left by my mum, but now she is going to love something more than she loves me. And in that instant, a crack appears in our bond, a tiny fissure that worms its way through my chest and into my heart, where it settles to grow in time with Aoife’s baby.
Twenty-three
Opening the door, Gloria welcomed Carla and Bremer with a look of doubt. The years hadn’t been kind to her. Thick foundation exaggerated the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and her skin, once young and plump, was now dry and blotchy.
‘Come through.’ Gloria gestured towards the room at the end of the narrow hallway. As Bremer walked on in front, she glanced at Carla, who gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
As they sat in the cramped front room – filled with toys, and knick-knacks that Carla assumed belonged to Gloria’s mum – Gloria asked her, ‘Do I know you?’
Carla froze. Could she mention the previous court case? Was that allowed or would she be breaking some law she didn’t know existed?
When it was obvious she wasn’t going to reply, Bremer said, ‘This is Carla Brown, an analyst with Thames Valley Police. I believe she provided evidence against Connor O’Brian at his trial. You may recognise her from that.’
Recognition dawned on Gloria’s face. It quickly changed to concern. ‘So why’s she here now?’
Carla relaxed a little, relieved Gloria’s memory was as vague about their meeting as Carla herself had been, though she wished her presence wasn’t making Gloria twist her hands nervously in her lap.
‘I asked her.’ Bremer smiled. ‘I thought it might be good to have a friendly face.’
‘You not friendly then?’
Touché, Carla thought, but Bremer just smiled and continued.