Trio - [74]
My daughter. Caroline felt the room sway.
‘… ever wanted to find you she would have something from you.’
‘Not my address. Paul doesn’t, the children…’
‘Fine.’ The doctor held her hands out, trying to calm her. ‘Just a note perhaps? If you’d like to, telling her that you think about her.’
Caroline tried to smile but she felt her face dissolve again and the tears made her thoughts all blurry.
They didn’t give her ECT again and she was grateful. She had lost too many memories. She imagined her mind pockmarked with cigarette burns, precious moments from childhood and later scorched away.
It took her six months to write the letter to her daughter. Endless drafts in her head, then on paper, times snatched in private. In 1978, eighteen years after she had given birth, she posted the letter to the Catholic Children’s Rescue Society. They had just passed the new law which entitled adopted children to apply for their adoption records and made it much easier to get hold of them. If her daughter approached the agency Caroline’s letter would be waiting for her. In it she explained the circumstances back in 1960 and a little of her memories of the few weeks they had spent together.
I have thought about you every day and prayed that you have been happy and that you have a close and loving family. I am married now and have two sons but I haven’t told them about you, I hope you understand. I do hope one day you will write and tell me all about yourself.
She did not put her address on the letter itself, panicked at the thought of Theresa turning up on the doorstep unannounced, but she attached a note of it for the society to keep on file so they could forward any communications to her. When her letter reached Manchester the clerk opening the mail was interrupted by a phone call. When she returned to sorting the mail she failed to notice the slip of paper that had got separated from Caroline’s sealed envelope and was among the pile of discarded envelopes. She placed the letter in Caroline’s file in the big filing cabinets, threw away the envelopes and began to sort through her correspondence for the day.
For weeks afterwards Caroline scanned the mail for unexpected postmarks or anything from the society in Manchester, aware that she was desperate to hear and terribly fearful in equal measure. Summer turned to winter then spring and her anticipation faded.
When she went to mark the May birthday, at the beach, she wondered if she would ever hear. Will I die not knowing? Will she write in ten years, thirty, forty? The uncertainty was cruel, like a slow water torture, dripping away, hope calcifying into resignation. She watched the waves break against the rocks, the pattern of foam eddying in the gullies. Heard the shriek of a cormorant. I’ve been suspended in time, she thought. My whole life since I had her, it’s one long wait and the rest of it: Paul, the boys, everything, is like a dream and it’ll never be real, never be enough until I can wake up and find out the truth. Like Sleeping Beauty waiting for a prince, for a kiss, for release.
Kay
They had half-a-dozen visits to the marriage-guidance clinic. It was deadly. Bitterness and confusion dragged out of each of them until the state of their relationship was displayed in tatters in front of them. The counsellor hadn’t been at all judgmental but they had both made up for that. She came away from each session heavy with dismay, sickened by the depth of her anger. Worst of all was having to talk about the baby, Julie’s baby, his baby. How she hated him for that. More than anything. And she grieved for the baby she had never had and felt an awful disloyalty to Theresa and Dominic and the twins.
She could never bring herself to voice the awful thoughts that haunted her, how she had wished Adam’s love child dead, hoped that Julie would miscarry. Evil, unchristian. Adam wept his crocodile tears and said a million sorrys and talked of mistakes and being weak and a fool. He said she had withdrawn from him, been critical, grouchy, he talked about the tranquilisers and how sleepy they had made her. A hundred excuses.
The counsellor made them consider the future, what they wanted for themselves, from each other, what they could give. She asked them to consider separation as well as staying together. Kay panicked. She would not condemn the children to a broken marriage whatever the cost to her. She could not. But she could not forgive Adam either. It was a stalemate.
‘Picture yourselves in five years time.’ The counsellor had smiled lightly. ‘Think of three words to describe your marriage as it might be then.’
Adam huffed and puffed and eventually came up with stable, loving and safe. ‘Faithful,’ Kay said crisply, ‘settled, friendly.’ It was the best she could do and even those modest aims seemed completely unattainable to her.
Adam had promised her he would never stray again and begged her to believe him.
‘I can’t,’ she said simply. ‘I tried before and look where it got me. You want my trust. You can’t have it. There isn’t any.’
"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.
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».
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.