The Woman Behind Her: a gripping psychological suspense thriller by Anna Willett

Author:Anna Willett [Willett, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: THE BOOK FOLKS crime thriller and suspense publisher
Published: 2019-08-07T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-one

1986

Travelling with one small suitcase had its advantages. As passengers crowded the conveyer belt wrestling with over-packed luggage, Helen retrieved her valise and headed for the customs desk. Twenty minutes later she removed her jacket, slung it over her shoulder and pushed open the double doors that led into the waiting area.

For a moment she could see nothing but a sea of eager faces – groups of people watching the doors for the moment their loved ones would appear. It was a singular scene, one that only occurred in airports and, to a lesser degree, train stations. No matter how many times she exited airports, Helen never tired of this moment. While she was usually only watching the reunions, the sense of anticipation and joy in the air always thrilled her.

Today, however, she wasn’t just a spectator and the energy-charged air had her caught in its spell. Standing her ground, Helen skimmed the crowd until she caught sight of the face that was etched into her mind as clearly as her own reflection.

Four years had brought changes. Six years older than her and now approaching fifty, his dark hair was flecked with grey and even from ten metres away she could see the lines creasing his brow. But when their eyes met, there was still that connection. The connection that had nearly torn her in two when they’d parted.

Helen raised her hand, and as much as she’d promised herself she’d play it cool, she didn’t try to stop herself as she let go of her case and ran forward. Home wasn’t a place, it was a person, and for her that person would always be Mike.

Closing the gap until only a metre or so and a waist-high metal barrier separated them, the crowd parted and Helen’s steps faltered. He wasn’t alone. The child in his arms regarded her with the same blue eyes as his father.

“Mike?” The word came out as both a question and a greeting.

If he heard the uncertainty in her voice, he gave no indication. Leaning over the barricade, he pulled her close so she could smell his scent: clean and edged with the crisp scent of his cologne. A scent now mingled with another smell, milky and sweet; that of his child.

He kissed her. A gentle meeting of his lips to hers, but it was enough to take her breath away.

“Helen,” he said pulling back. “This is Chrissy.” As he spoke, Mike’s fingers touched the little boy’s hair, absently brushing back a strand that lay on the child’s forehead.

With the shock of seeing the boy ebbing, Helen managed to muster a smile. The boy was so like his father that something in her stirred and she felt tears prickle her eyes, reminding her how different life could have been if she’d been the one to give Mike a child.

“Hi, Chrissy.” Helen wanted to touch the boy, to run her hand over his little face. “I have a niece about your age. She likes chocolate ice cream.

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