The Affair by Amanda Brooke

The Affair by Amanda Brooke

Author:Amanda Brooke
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008116569
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2016-10-10T04:00:00+00:00


Scarlett

I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but I do love Mum. It’s just not as simple as it used to be when I was little and all she had to do was give me a hug and everything would be all right. And that’s all I was after I suppose, but when I told her I was pregnant, she went mad and started pointing the finger at everyone. Couldn’t she see how scared I was? I really would have told her everything, and I mean everything, but it wasn’t just my secret to share, was it?

He wasn’t exactly happy about it when he found out either, and even though he kept saying it was my choice, it was so obvious he wanted me to get rid of it. ‘Oh, it’s your body, Scarlett,’ he’d said and then, in the next breath, ‘It would be such a shame if you never got to live your dreams first.’

I’d told him I needed time to think about it. I didn’t want him getting the idea he could manipulate me and, if I’m honest, I wanted him to squirm for a bit, but, bloody hell, I didn’t realize how far Mum would go. It was horrible when she accused Bryn and I was so glad to get out of the house. I thought I’d be safe at school, but apparently not. I was in double English when she turned up.

Mr Swift was making us all sit in silence to read our revision notes, but we got restless and Linus started up some banter, except Mr Swift wasn’t in the mood and sent him straight to the Cooler, and Mr Swift never sends anyone to the Cooler. So we all stayed quiet after that and the tension was unbearable. And I thought things were tense at home! I so jumped when someone prodded me in the back, and when I looked over my shoulder, Eva used her eyes to get me to look out of the window. We had a good view of the car park and I spotted Mum’s car straight away because she hadn’t parked in a space and was blocking everyone in – not a good sign.

It was like a slow-motion film as I turned back to the front and just stared at Mr Swift, who was flicking through essay papers. There was the rustle of paper and the odd sigh, and this tapping noise from a pen nib being struck against the hard surface of a desk, muffled slightly by the piece of paper caught in between. The pen left tiny black-ink wounds on my revision sheet.

Mr Swift looked up. ‘Scarlett, be quiet,’ he hissed.

I was prepared to hold his gaze but he was already picking up his phone. I watched him frown and then his face went grey and I mean, literally grey. I don’t know why, maybe I’ve got some psychic ability or something, but I felt sick with dread. I carried on watching him, but he



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