Trio - [71]
On the Saturday night they went to dinner with Adam’s partner and his wife and another couple from the chamber of commerce. It was a pleasant enough evening but she couldn’t relax. She thought about the tablets. She hadn’t had them for eighteen months but at times like these she missed their numbing effects and began to feel edgy and anxious. It had been hell coming off them and staying off them and she’d no wish to go through it again. There were cases in the papers all the time, women who were addicted. Kay ate little of the meal and drank too much. She was able to disguise her inebriation because she was aware of it. She thought before speaking and was careful not to slur her words or knock her glass over.
When they got home Adam asked her if she wanted a nightcap. She accepted and watched him pour a Drambuie for her, a brandy for himself. He seemed at ease and when she spoke she watched him avidly for any sign of guilt or embarrassment.
‘Are you having an affair, Adam?’
What she saw was shock, his face jerked as through he’d been slapped, his pale-blue eyes widened and then he looked wounded. ‘No! Christ, Kay, why do you think that?’
‘You’ve been preoccupied. And the flowers. You never buy flowers.’
He looked at her open-mouthed. ‘I buy you flowers and you accuse me of having an affair?’ he said incredulously.
‘I didn’t accuse you. I asked you. Maybe I need reassurance. After all, it’s not beyond the bounds of possibility, is it? Look at last time.’
She saw his cheek twitch. They never referred to his fling with Joanna. He hated the reminder. He walked over to her and took her hand. ‘I’m not having an affair.’ He held her eyes with his, his pupils large, swamping the blue. ‘Everything I want, everything I need, is here under this roof. I learnt my lesson, Kay.’
‘I had to ask.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘I’ve been going up the wall. I’m sorry.’
He shook his head and pulled her to him. Held her by the nape of the neck. Kissed her. She let him. Catching hold of the relief that his denial brought and trying to quieten the whispering doubts that still clung to her.
Caroline
She marked each birthday. A little ritual that no one knew about. That in itself hadn’t been easy with a business to run and a young family, but she had no qualms about inventing a trip to town, a meeting with a potential supplier or even, one year, a hospital appointment to account for her absence. She would find a quiet place, somewhere tranquil, usually where there was water and stones and trees. The first years after her marriage it had been the gorge where the Avon flowed and when they moved again she had found this place on one of her walks. Farsands Cove. Tiny, virtually inaccessible apart from a steep scramble down red-mud cliffs and through a stand of conifers. But once reached it had been her sanctuary.
She found herself a spot among the rocks. The tide was well out and the fresh wind had dried the beach. She sat down, rubbed her palms in the sand, picked up handfuls and let it trickle from her knuckles.
The ritual was simple. She would recall her time at St Ann’s. She would try to remember as much as she could: the imposing building with its towers and gargoyles, doing the laundry, the perishing-cold bedroom she shared, the garden and the hours she spent bundled up on a bench. The other girls: Megan, who had been so lively and generous; Joan, who had been older but still in the same terrible situation. Did they ever think back? Remember her? She recalled the corner of the garden where she sat. The shawl she had brought. What else? Grandma dying and not being there for the funeral. Megan knitting. Porridge for breakfast. Her labour. The details still more clear to her than those of the boys’. And then it had changed.
The baby had become the centre of her life. Changing and feeding her. Holding her. Falling in love with her.
‘A very good family,’ Sister Monica had said. Caroline had nodded. Thinking, And I am not. Not good. Not family. What am I then? Nothing.
The worst part to remember was the night she had tried to rescue Theresa. She couldn’t just give her up like all the others: it was wrong to let her go. She loved her so. Caroline would talk to her and she would listen, really listen, her tiny face running through all these different expressions. She was so beautiful. A shock of dark hair, eyes like pools in the night. She loved the smell of her, she would sit breathing in the scent from her skin, feeling the weight of her in her arms. My lovely, lovely girl.
They hadn’t told Caroline what day the baby would be taken but her cot was next to the door in the nursery now. She would be next. Caroline had lain awake that night, her eyes hard and dry, her heart heavy and an awful pain in her stomach. It was wrong. She wouldn’t let them do it. She had slipped out of bed and opened the wardrobe. Wincing when it creaked. But no one woke. She pulled on a dress and coat, found her shoes and the bag she had ready with her few possessions.
She tiptoed across the hall to the nursery, where Sister Vincent and one of the girls were meant to be watching over the babies. She couldn’t see Sister Vincent but Deirdre was curled up on the truckle bed, out for the count. It was cool and Caroline was shivering but she could feel sweat sliding down the sides of her chest. Her heart was thumping in her throat. She went into the nursery and bent over the cot. She felt the familiar rush of affection, a dizzy sort of joy at seeing her little girl again. Quietly she pulled aside the blankets and lifted up the child, holding her against her left shoulder. She pulled the shawl from the bed and wrapped it around the baby’s back. She walked out and down the passage to the front door, thinking at the same time that it would be a long time till the first bus. The first bus to anywhere.
"A painfully honest exploration of an ordinary family under stress… A stunning piece of work." – Ann CleevesFour bystanders in the wrong place at the wrong time. Witnesses to the shocking shooting of a teenage boy. A moment that changes their lives forever. Fiona, a midwife, is plagued by panic attacks and unable to work. Has she the strength to testify? Mike, a delivery driver and family man, faces an impossible decision when his frightened wife forces him to choose – us or the court case. Cheryl, a single-mother, doesn't want her child to grow up in the same climate of fear.
Single mother and private eye, Sal Kilkenny, has two very frightened clients on her hands. One, young mother Debbie Gosforth, is a victim; the other, Luke Wallace, is afraid he is a murderer. While Sal tries to protect Debbie from a stalker, she has to investigate the murder of Luke's best friend.
The fourth Blue Murder novel written by the creator of the hit ITV police drama starring Caroline Quentin as DCI Janine Lewis.A well-respected family GP is found shot dead outside his surgery; who could possibly want to kill him? As DCI Janine Lewis and her team investigate they uncover stories of loyalty, love, deception, betrayal and revenge.Praise for the Blue Murder books'Complex and satisfying in its handling of Lewis's agonised attempts to be both a good cop and a good mother.' The Sunday Times'Uncluttered and finely detailed prose.' Birmingham Post'Beautifully realised little snapshots of the different characters' lives… Compelling stuff.' Sherlock Magazine'A swift, satisfying read.' City Life'Precise and detailed delineation of contemporary family relationships.' Tangled Web'Lewis seems set to become another very popular string to Staincliffe's bow as one of the leading English murder writers.' Manchester Metro'Pace and plenty of human interest.' Publishing News'Blending the warmth of family life with the demands of a police investigation.'Manchester Evening News'Juggling work and family is a challenge of modern life and encountering realistically portrayed women with family responsibilities is a pleasure.
Your husband, your family, your freedom. What would you sacrifice for love? A love story, a modern nightmare and an honest and incisive portrayal of a woman who honours her husband's wish to die and finds herself in the dock for murder.When Deborah reluctantly helps her beloved husband Neil end his life and conceals the truth, she is charged with murder. As the trial unfolds and her daughter Sophie testifies against her, Deborah, still reeling with grief, fights to defend her actions. Twelve jurors hold her fate in their hands, if found guilty she will serve a life sentence.
From the author of LOOKING FOR TROUBLE, a further crime novel featuring private investigator Sal Kilkenny. When a man is distraught at his wife's apparent infidelity, he enlists the help of Sal to confirm his suspicions, only to find himself a widower soon afterwards. From there Sal's other case also begins to take a disturbing and violent turn.
When private eye Sal Kilkenny is asked to discover the whereabouts of Jennifer Pickering, disinherited by her family twenty years ago, it seems that Jennifer does not want to be found. Despite her initial reservations, as the events of the past gradually unfold, single-mum Sal finds that she is becoming engrossed in the case. There are dark secrets waiting to be uncovered but can Sal break the conspiracy of silence that surrounds this mystery? As she spends her days tracing Jennifer, Sal's nights become shattered by an emotional and often dangerous assignment with the Neighbour Nuisance Unit on one of Manchester's toughest housing estates.
Будущее Джимми Кьюсака, талантливого молодого финансиста и основателя преуспевающего хедж-фонда «Кьюсак Кэпитал», рисовалось безоблачным. Однако грянул финансовый кризис 2008 года, и его дело потерпело крах. Дошло до того, что Джимми нечем стало выплачивать ипотеку за свою нью-йоркскую квартиру. Чтобы вылезти из долговой ямы и обеспечить более-менее приличную жизнь своей семье, Кьюсак пошел на работу в хедж-фонд «ЛиУэлл Кэпитал». Поговаривали, что благодаря финансовому гению его управляющего клиенты фонда «никогда не теряют свои деньги».
Очнувшись на полу в луже крови, Роузи Руссо из Бронкса никак не могла вспомнить — как она оказалась на полу номера мотеля в Нью-Джерси в обнимку с мертвецом?
Действие романа происходит в нулевых или конце девяностых годов. В книге рассказывается о расследовании убийства известного московского ювелира и его жены. В связи с вступлением наследника в права наследства активизируются люди, считающие себя обделенными. Совершено еще два убийства. В центре всех событий каким-то образом оказывается соседка покойных – молодой врач Наталья Голицына. Расследование всех убийств – дело чести майора Пронина, который считает Наталью не причастной к преступлению. Параллельно в романе прослеживается несколько линий – быт отделения реанимации, ювелирное дело, воспоминания о прошедших годах и, конечно, любовь.
Егор Кремнев — специальный агент российской разведки. Во время секретного боевого задания в Аргентине, которое обещало быть простым и безопасным, он потерял всех своих товарищей.Но в его руках оказался секретарь беглого олигарха Соркина — Михаил Шеринг. У Шеринга есть секретные бумаги, за которыми охотится не только российская разведка, но и могущественный преступный синдикат Запада. Теперь Кремневу предстоит сложная задача — доставить Шеринга в Россию. Он намерен сделать это в одиночку, не прибегая к помощи коллег.
Опорск вырос на берегу полноводной реки, по синему руслу которой во время оно ходили купеческие ладьи с восточным товаром к западным и северным торжищам и возвращались опять на Восток. Историки утверждали, что название городу дала древняя порубежная застава, небольшая крепость, именованная Опорой. В злую годину она первой встречала вражьи рати со стороны степи. Во дни же затишья принимала застава за дубовые стены торговых гостей с их товарами, дабы могли спокойно передохнуть они на своих долгих и опасных путях.
Из экспозиции крымского художественного музея выкрадены шесть полотен немецкого художника Кингсховера-Гютлайна. Но самый продвинутый сыщик не догадается, кто заказчик и с какой целью совершено похищение. Грабители прошли мимо золотого фонда музея — бесценной иконы «Рождество Христово» работы учеников Рублёва и других, не менее ценных картин и взяли полотна малоизвестного автора, попавшие в музей после войны. Читателя ждёт захватывающий сюжет с тщательно выписанными нюансами людских отношений и судеб героев трёх поколений.