Trio - [72]
The door was locked and she couldn’t see the key. Her hands were shaking, she looked on the little table in the hall but there was nothing there. She could go out the back, then.
She turned and the snap of lights flooded the hallway, making her jump. Sister Vincent came towards her, her face hard. ‘Caroline.’
She felt her eyes flood with tears, her cheeks slither, the shaking spread to her ribs and her thighs. ‘Sister, I can’t! I can’t, I won’t!’ She buried her face in the baby’s neck. Soft skin, silky hair. The smell of milk and powder. She cupped her hand over the small skull, felt the pulse beating through the fontanels, used her thumb to stroke the small nub of Theresa’s left ear. ‘Please?’ she begged. ‘She’s my baby.’ She turned but her way was blocked again.
Then there were more footsteps and lights and orders whispered and they took her into Sister Monica’s office and she was shaking her head and begging them and they pulled the child from her arms.
She didn't see her again.
There was little to remember after that. A blur of pain and misery so she could barely swallow or talk. A stone inside her.
She thought about her baby every day. And once a year she came here to remember and to weep and to pray that one day the child would seek her out and she could begin to make amends. She would be fifteen years old today, practically grown up. Did she ever think of Caroline? Did she know she even existed?
She watched the sea suck and sigh through her salty eyes, blew her nose on one of the handkerchiefs she had brought. She prayed to the earth and the high, pewter sky and the wind to bring her daughter back. Then she walked the cove, searching for a small stone, a pebble or a shell. She would know the right one when she held it. This time she found a small, smooth, oval-shaped pebble, dark-grey with lines of white terraced through it. She held it and it fitted her palm. She would take it home and put it in her special box along with the fourteen others she had. Her only mementos.
Kay
‘Kay, Kay Farrell?’
A young woman stood on the doorstep: she was very slim, pretty, with long blonde hair and a lime-green crocheted dress. ‘I’m Julie.’
Kay frowned. She didn’t know the girl, was sure they’d never met. ‘I don’t think…’ she began.
‘I work with Adam.’
‘Adam’s not here,’ Kay said stupidly. Monday to Friday, eight thirty to six, even later if business was booming.
‘I know,’ the girl said. ‘Could I come in a minute?’ She seemed tense, her eyes looked a little startled and she blinked a lot.
Kay hesitated but it would have been impolite to refuse. Why was she here? Was Adam hurt?
The washing machine was making a din in the kitchen so Kay took her into the dining room. The girl sat down. Kay offered her a drink.
‘No, thanks. Adam hasn’t said anything about me?’ Half question, half statement.
Kay shook her head.
Julie sighed and closed her eyes momentarily.
‘I’m pregnant,’ she said, looking down at her hands in her lap. ‘I’m having Adam’s baby.’
For an awful moment Kay wanted to laugh, felt a cackle sitting in her chest. Pregnant? Preposterous. You can’t be. He can’t… He swore to me. She didn’t speak but swung her eyes away from the girl out to the garden, to where the climbing frame stood.
Julie continued. ‘He said he’d tell you but I think it was just another lie. I know he can’t divorce you, the religion and that, but that doesn’t mean he has to keep living with you.’
‘Why are you here?’ Kay spoke softly.
‘I thought you should know.’
His baby. She was carrying his baby inside, beneath the trendy dress. A little Adam or perhaps a girl.
Fresh, fertile, skinny, ten years younger.
What was she? Barren, fat, dried-up and bitter. Up to her ears in packed lunches and clean football kits and table decorations. ‘I’d like you to go.’
‘He has to choose,’ the girl said. She stood up.
Adam. Adam could have children. They had always said it was feasible. But not likely: his sperms had low motility.
‘He’s got to face up to his responsibilities.’
‘Please, go.’
Julie moved into the hall. Kay walked after her, her throat constricted, her heart beating in her neck, her ears. She shut the door after her and sat on the bottom stair, her head in her hands. Talking quietly, cursing him, over and over, letting the tears slide down her cheeks, banging her fists on her chest and pressing them against her cheeks.
She thought of slitting her wrists or pouring the contents of the medicine cabinet down her neck. Something to surprise him on his return. See, she would say in her death, see how you have hurt me. See. You have killed me. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave the children. While she could breathe she would carry on. For them. Whatever he had done. Fuck him. Fuck him to hell and back.
Caroline
It was twelve years after Davey’s birth when the depression returned in full spate, dragging her down into a tomb of defeat and dislike and black grief. She had been certain she would succumb earlier, with her second pregnancy when Davey was three and as her due date drew nearer she had become more worried about that than about the labour itself.
"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.
Обстоятельный и дотошный инспектор амстердамской полиции Ван дер Вальк расследует странное убийство домохозяйки («Ать-два!»). Героям известного автора детективов предстоят жестокие испытания, прежде чем справедливость восторжествует.
Книга написана по сценарию известного российского драматурга А.В. Тимма. На страницах романа вы встретитесь со старыми знакомыми, полюбившимися вам по сериалу «NEXT», — благородным и великодушным Лавром, его сыном Федором, добродушным весельчаком Санчо и решительной Клавдией. Увлекательное повествование вводит в мир героев, полный настоящих рыцарских подвигов и романтических приключений.
В повести «Искупление» автор показывает, как человек, стремящийся к чувственным наслаждениям, попадает под подозрение в убийстве и вынужден скрываться от полиции. Находясь на нелегальном положении, он постоянно подвергается опасности. Это заставляет его пересмотреть свои взгляды на смысл и основные цели своей жизни. В основу повести Ильичева В. А. положен опыт работы автора в уголовном розыске. Читатель знает автора по книгам «Элегантный убийца», «Гильотина для палача», «Тайна семи грехов», «Навстречу Вечности», «Жизнь и криминал», «Приключения подмигивающего призрака» и ряду других.
Над Кольским полуостровом нависла полярная ночь. Солнечные лучи уже давно не заглядывали в окна. По утрам было сумрачно, и постоянно болела голова, отчего Павел Николаевич Ларин зачастую впадал в меланхолию. Всё же лучше быть седым, чем лысым, — подметил Павел Николаевич и, насухо обтеревшись махровым полотенцем, освежил гладко выбритые щёки пахучим одеколоном. Что воскресенье, что понедельник — теперь всё было едино… Павел Николаевич непроизвольно начал размышлять о превратностях беззаботной старческой жизни.
Предать жену и детей ради любовницы, конечно, несложно. Проблема заключается в том, как жить дальше? Да и можно ли дальнейшее существование назвать полноценной, нормальной жизнью?…
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».