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The Girls In The Woods. Helen Phifer
Читать онлайн.Название The Girls In The Woods
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474047432
Автор произведения Helen Phifer
Жанр Контркультура
Серия The Annie Graham crime series
Издательство HarperCollins
She didn’t want to think about him but now Lisa had forced her to.
‘I bloody well hope not. Look, he’s dead. We know he’s dead – I even went to his post mortem. I didn’t tell you because I was still in hospital and you had more than enough to worry about, but Matt sent Stu to come for me. I watched as Matt sliced his body open and removed his internal organs. To be honest I was surprised the man had a heart inside there, but he did. They all got shoved in a plastic bag and sewn back up inside him. Then I watched as he was cremated. I had to make sure he wasn’t coming back to get you, to get us. Henry Smith is definitely dead. I promise you, it’s over with him for good.
‘Why did you not tell me about any of this before?’
‘I let you down, Annie. Twice that man got the better of me and twice you almost died. I wasn’t going to wait on the sidelines and pretend it was all okay. I had to make sure it was over, to make sure that I didn’t let it happen a third time.’
She reached over and stroked his arm, feeling terrible that he blamed himself when the only person to blame was finally dead and out of their lives.
‘None of it was your fault, but thank you, Will. I didn’t want to go back to reality just yet – we’ve only been in England for an hour and boom, back in the room. Thanks a lot, Lisa.’
‘I’m afraid so. Never mind, don’t worry about her – let her sort her own mess out for a change. How many missed calls have you got off Jake?’
‘None. He knew we needed that holiday and a break. For once he hasn’t had any dramas that he couldn’t cope with himself. I’m beginning to feel a bit redundant.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about that too much. You know as well as I do Jake will be on fine form. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t waiting for us to get back to the cottage.’
She smiled. She missed Jake – although not quite as much now that she had Will – but her best friend was funny, fiercely loyal and a complete drama queen. She was looking forward to catching up with him, his equally-as-handsome husband, Alex, and their gorgeous little girl, Alice. In fact she was going to invite them up to have a meal and stay over, although she’d better clear it with Will first seeing as how he was the gourmet cook. Her burnt pizza was legend amongst her circle of close friends. They could invite Kav, who was more like her dad than a boss and had been the one to give her away at her wedding, and Cathy. They were now in a steady relationship, thanks to Annie throwing them together. They had even gone public, much to her and Jake’s delight. If it hadn’t been for all of their friendship she and Will might not have been here to tell the tale of what happened at the Lake House six months ago.
‘Penny for them?’
‘Sorry, I was thinking about… you know… everything that happened. It was easier to block it out when we were lying under the tropical sun. It was so far away from here.’
Will reached out, squeezing her fingers.
‘I know, it was much easier to forget the whole nightmare ever happened. Now we’re back here it seems as if it was only yesterday. We need to push it to the back of our minds. It’s over and done, that bloody man is dead and hopefully he went straight to hell because even that place is far too good for him.’
She squeezed his fingers back.
‘Yes, you’re right. It is far too good for him. I agree – no more thinking about him or talking about him. Let’s concentrate on us and the baby. We need to think of names. It can’t come out and be called baby It.’
Will began to chuckle.
‘I’m easy, as long as you don’t want to call it Horatio or Ermentrude – whatever you like, I’m sure that I will.’
‘Don’t you like Horatio? I thought it had a nice ring to it. Horatio Ashworth.’
She began to giggle and Will smiled. It was his favourite sound in the world. The turn off for Newby Bridge came into sight; they were almost home. Twenty minutes of some of the most beautiful, lush, green scenery and then they would reach the small lane which led to Apple Tree Cottage. Annie loved her home. She had dreamt about living in a house like it since she was a small child and knew that she was very fortunate that her dream had come true.
‘I can’t wait to show your dad and Lily the photographs. She’ll definitely want to go when she sees how perfect it was.’
‘I bet she’s already made him book the flights.’
‘I bet she has. Your dad marrying Lily was better than any fountain of youth. She keeps him young, a bit like me and you. I’m much younger than you. I hope I have the same effect.’
She winked at Will who began to laugh.
‘I wish I could say you were, Annie, but somehow you seem to be having the opposite effect on me. Have you seen the grey hairs that have come through, and the worry lines across my forehead? You, my little cupcake, are the complete opposite. But I wouldn’t have you any other way.’
It was dusky when Jo opened her eyes. The light had faded fast and she was surprised she’d slept that long, not to mention shocked because she hadn’t made Heath’s tea. Crap, he would go mad with her all over again. He’d made the sandwiches at dinner time; if he had to cook his own tea she’d know about it. Her head felt a little better but her eye was sore. Throwing back the covers and sitting up she waited a moment, listening to see if she could hear where he was, but there was no noise. The house was completely silent – it was strange; he must still be working. She looked at the clock and almost had a full-blown panic attack. It was quarter to nine; she’d been asleep since two o’clock. She was never going to sleep tonight – that was if he let her off with staying in bed so long in the first place. Jumping up, she ran to the bathroom then downstairs, relief that the house was in darkness flooding through her. Thank God for small mercies. Whatever he was working on was keeping him busy and for that she was eternally grateful.
She began to pull some pots and pans from the rack and thought about earlier when they’d all been moving on their own. Don’t be stupid, he knocked you out cold – it was just a figment of your imagination, concussion. She carried on chopping onions, garlic, chilli and peppers; she would make his favourite chilli and rice for tea – that would hopefully keep him in a good mood. Before long, the mince was frying and she tossed in everything else whilst waiting for the pan of water to boil. At least it would be almost ready by the time he came back in, so he wouldn’t be mad because he was hungry. Her own stomach started groaning. She hadn’t eaten much apart from nibbling on the sandwich earlier and for once he hadn’t even moaned about her leaving most of that.
Whilst the tea was cooking she went into the living room and switched the television on to his favourite programme. She didn’t understand why but she still loved him, even though he hurt her, and she wanted him to be happy – because when he was happy he didn’t get as violent. Therefore, as much as possible, she would do things to make him smile. He was so much fun when he was happy; they used to have such good times when they first met. It was just a shame that the anger seemed to be a much bigger part of him now than the love and laughter he rarely showed.
As she turned to walk out of the room the television, which she had just turned on, switched off. She turned around and stared at the black screen which seconds ago had had Sky News plastered across it. Thinking that she hadn’t pressed the on button right in, she walked back and pressed it again – the newsreader filled the screen. This time she got as far as the hallway when she heard the click of the power button being pressed in to turn the screen off; whipping her head around, the screen was black once more. Jo frowned, wondering if the television was broken – that was all she needed. Apart from taking photographs, the television was his life and he would be in a foul mood if it wasn’t working. No doubt he would blame her and then her life wouldn’t be worth living.