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Back Where The Story Starts Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. CONTENTS
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS
  64. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  65. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The medical team were brandishing instruments now, but Grace didn’t want to see what they would use to slice her flesh and yank out her child. She closed her eyes against them all and prayed to a long-neglected God for release.

After that everything happened quickly. The sharp pain of the anaesthetic. The cold steel of the forceps against her body. The tug as the child was wrenched from her. And then the silence.

Grace opened her eyes. The doctor and both midwives were standing over on the other side of the room looking at something that she could not see. The younger of the midwives was making notes, scribbling the numbers that the elder called out.

‘My baby!’ Grace whispered, but no one seemed to hear or take notice. ‘My baby!’ she said again, more forcefully this time. ‘Where is my baby?’

And then she heard it – a mewling sound like a kitten, followed by a feeble cry.

‘And there we have it,’ said the doctor with a confidence that wasn’t reflected in his expression. ‘You have a healthy baby girl. Congratulations. She had us worried for a moment there, but here she is. Safe and sound.’

He nodded at the midwife, who was swaddling the baby in a pale green blanket. She passed the little bundle to Grace.

‘Now, you mustn’t worry about those bruises,’ he added. ‘They will fade in a couple of days. The main thing is that she’s out and she’s fine.’

Grace looked at the tiny creased face of her daughter. Was it her imagination, or did her skull appear to be stretched out of shape? And the bruises were red and angry across her cheek and forehead. The little mite looked battered. Tears formed in Grace’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks as she pulled her daughter in close to her. What a way to enter the world! Would the poor child ever recover from a trauma like this? Would she?

And where the hell was Charles?

23

23

GRACE – THEN

‘But you missed the birth,’ repeated Grace. ‘You missed your own daughter being born. There are no action replays, you know, Charles. It’s not like the football. You had one chance and you blew it.’

The same could not be said of this argument. It had been three days since their baby girl had clawed her way into the world and Grace had lost count of the number of times she’d uttered these words, or words like them, as she tried to make sense of what Charles had told her.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Charles.