BooksBarbecue
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Chapters (84)
  1. Chapter one
  2. Chapter two
  3. Chapter three
  4. Chapter four
  5. Chapter five
  6. Chapter six
  7. Chapter seven
  8. Chapter eight
  9. Chapter nine
  10. Chapter ten
  11. Chapter eleven
  12. Chapter twelve
  13. Chapter thirteen
  14. Chapter fourteen
  15. Chapter fifteen
  16. Chapter sixteen
  17. Chapter seventeen
  18. Chapter eighteen
  19. Chapter nineteen
  20. Chapter twenty
  21. Chapter twenty-one
  22. Chapter twenty-two
  23. Chapter twenty-three
  24. Chapter twenty-four
  25. Chapter twenty-five
  26. Chapter twenty-six
  27. Chapter twenty-seven
  28. Chapter twenty-eight
  29. Chapter twenty-nine
  30. Chapter thirty
  31. Chapter thirty-one
  32. Chapter thirty-two
  33. Chapter thirty-three
  34. Chapter thirty-four
  35. Chapter thirty-five
  36. Chapter thirty-six
  37. Chapter thirty-seven
  38. Chapter thirty-eight
  39. Chapter thirty-nine
  40. Chapter forty
  41. Chapter forty-one
  42. Chapter forty-two
  43. Chapter forty-three
  44. Chapter forty-four
  45. Chapter forty-five
  46. Chapter forty-six
  47. Chapter forty-seven
  48. Chapter forty-eight
  49. Chapter forty-nine
  50. Chapter fifty
  51. Chapter fifty-one
  52. Chapter fifty-two
  53. Chapter fifty-three
  54. Chapter fifty-four
  55. Chapter fifty-five
  56. Chapter fifty-six
  57. Chapter fifty-seven
  58. Chapter fifty-eight
  59. Chapter fifty-nine
  60. Chapter sixty
  61. Chapter sixty-one
  62. Chapter sixty-two
  63. Chapter sixty-three
  64. Chapter sixty-four
  65. Chapter sixty-five
  66. Chapter sixty-six
  67. Chapter sixty-seven
  68. Chapter sixty-eight
  69. Chapter sixty-nine
  70. Chapter seventy
  71. Chapter seventy-one
  72. Chapter seventy-two
  73. Chapter seventy-three
  74. Chapter seventy-four
  75. Chapter seventy-five
  76. Chapter seventy-six
  77. Chapter seventy-seven
  78. Chapter seventy-eight
  79. Chapter seventy-nine
  80. Chapter eighty
  81. Chapter eighty-one
  82. Chapter eighty-two
  83. Chapter eighty-three
  84. Chapter eighty-four

‘Jake. Don’t go. Not like this.’ I can feel panic rising in me. Begging words are rushing up to my throat, but I won’t let them out. I can’t let them out. Why is he doing this? He can’t be thinking straight. I’m the one who’s supposed to have raging hormones and mood swings. He never behaves like this. We’ve been together for years. How many years? Four. That’s twice my usual quota for long-term relationships. He is The One. My heart’s desire. I thought I was his. We are joint owners of this rather nice terraced house in a rather desirable area of deepest, darkest St Albans, a pleasantly leafy city on the outskirts of London. Although we haven’t actually tied the knot, we’ve discussed marriage on several occasions. Usually after a couple of bottles of vino blanco, admittedly. We’re trying to have a baby together. You don’t just leave someone at eight o’clock on a Friday morning before you go to work, do you? You wait until Friday night or the weekend or Christmas or their birthday—a catastrophic date they’ll always remember. Friday morning is such an insignificant time to do something so momentous. He’s nearly at the door. Anxiously, I cast a look at the bubbling pan. ‘Your eggs. They’re drying up.’

He looks as if he’s about to say something and then changes his mind. ‘They’ll be too tough now.’

Like mine. ‘What will I do?’

‘You’ll be fine,’ he says, and it seems he’s already managed to convince himself that I will. But I’m not sure how I’ll cope at all.

My lover, my life, the father of my as-yet-unfertilised foetus, is walking, strolling, out of my life. He picks up his holdall at the front door, the one I thought contained his squash gear. He gives me a distant little smile—one that doesn’t even begin to reflect what he’s doing to me. And with that he closes the door behind him.

Chapter two

Chapter two

I can’t go into work. I have to go into work. I am blessed with great colleagues who will be hugely sympathetic and will call Jake all manner of obscene names including ‘fuckwit’. That will make me feel heaps better. They won’t mind that I’ll be horribly late and will spend the entire day crying into cups of manky machine coffee.