They were like the three musketeers now, a tight-knit trio of ladies who were joined at the hip. They even followed her to the toilet, incapable of being away from her for a second. She didn’t mind. They still mentioned Pete, but it was much less frequent now. They had accepted that he was no longer in their lives, in a way that only young children can. Kate knew that there would be more questions, as they got older and became more aware of their dad’s absence and the mystery surrounding his disappearance. She was ready to answer them, to assure them that their dad had loved them very much indeed. She hoped she would be enough for them.
Recently, Lottie had been trying to set her up with men. ‘Oh did you know that Ely’s dad is divorced? And he’s such a nice guy. I was thinking of inviting them over one Saturday. Maybe you could come too?’
She had laughed at her friend’s not so subtle attempt at matchmaking. ‘Thanks, Lottie, but I think I’ll pass.’ She wasn’t ready to even consider starting something with someone else. She wasn’t sure she would ever be. She would never get over what she had done to Pete; it would always be there, in her conscience, haunting her at night when she tried to sleep, and she wasn’t sure that she deserved to be with someone else. But as long as she and the girls were okay, that was what mattered.
She had thought about selling the house and moving away, to start a new life, but she couldn’t risk anyone moving into the house and discovering Pete’s body. She would need to stay here, trapped in this house forever, until either she met her maker or the truth caught up with her. But she had made the best of it, she thought. It could be worse.
After all, she had created the perfect home, filled with love and laughter which reverberated around the walls when the girls ran around, playing with their friends. When she stayed up late into the night, sitting on the deck with her new friends, drinking wine, gossiping and laughing. When Erin and Scott came round and she put her hand on her sister’s bump and felt the baby kick, feeling a surge of joy at the new life that was being created. When Karen came to stay for the weekend and sat on a deckchair with a cup of tea, playing games with the girls and beaming with pride at her beautiful grandchildren. When she took her laptop outside and worked under the umbrella, writing stories and making calls to journalists, squealing with excitement when she successfully placed a story. When, after a long day, she lit the firepit and sat close to it with the girls, toasting marshmallows and listening to Disney songs. The house was teeming with life.
It was just what she had always wanted.
THE END
Acknowledgements
They say it takes a village to raise a child. Well, this book is my literary first-born and I couldn’t have done it without a collective effort behind me.
To Alison Chandler and my writing course-mates at the Collage Writing Room, who gave me invaluable support, encouragement and feedback – and the proverbial kick up the backside I needed to turn my dream into a reality and actually put pen to paper.
To Jo Pinner and her friends who very kindly and helpfully answered my questions about missing persons investigations. And Emma and James Newall who cheerfully brainstormed the best place to dump a dead body with me over a few beers and helped me come up with the ideal spot. I literally couldn’t have disposed of Pete without you. #accessory.
A huge thank you to my sister Zoe, who read my early manuscript and gave me the encouragement and confidence to believe that people might actually want to read it. Thank you for being in my corner.
Thanks to Bloodhound Books, who took a chance on a debut novel from an unknown writer and transformed 2020 from what was otherwise a pretty shocking year into the one when I achieved my life’s ambition. And to all of the Bloodhound Books team for your support, positivity and professionalism through the publishing process. Thanks in particular to Clare Law, my editor, who spent many hours polishing up my manuscript and making it shine.
To my NCT gang who are absolutely nothing like the bunch in this book and who supported me so much in those early months of motherhood, making sure that – unlike Kate – there was always someone to talk, cry and laugh with. And not a glossy ponytail or activewear in sight.
And finally, to my husband Jon. For being my biggest cheerleader and sounding board. For reading my manuscript and teaching me some important grammar lessons (otherwise Kate’s emails would have been disappearing into the digital ethos and they’d all have been towing the line). For holding the fort while I disappeared off to write every weekend. For taking the kids to gymnastics so I could snatch another couple of hours of work. For believing in me.
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