Just Another Little Lie by Eve Ainsworth

Author:Eve Ainsworth [Ainsworth, Eve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781781129678
Publisher: Barrington Stoke Ltd
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I know Mum is home as soon as I see her car on the drive. My skin bristles. If she is here, why on earth didn’t she pick up Freddie?

You know the answer … I tell myself. You know why she didn’t show up.

You always knew why …

My throat is so dry it feels like it is coated with dust. I squeeze Freddie’s hand and ease him behind me as I open the door. I call out for Mum, but there is no reply.

“Is she here?” Freddie asks. “Where is she?”

“Wait here, Freddie,” I say softly. “I just want to see where Mum is.”

Freddie kicks off his shoes and scowls. “I want to watch the telly.”

“And you can in a minute. Just hang on.”

The radio is blaring from the kitchen with a discussion programme. Some guy is chattering on about his favourite holiday destination and a woman is laughing loudly. Their voices seem eerily out of place in the hollow house.

“… I just love the feel of the sun on my face when I go away, don’t you?”

“As long as I can relax with a cold glass of wine, I don’t care …”

I walk briskly into the living room. It is empty, but I notice that both Mum’s phones are on the coffee table, next to a full cup of black coffee.

“Mum …” I say again, the blood racing through my veins.

The radio is on too loud. The voices are annoying me with their bright, over‑the‑top chatter.

“It’s all about family, isn’t it? Spending time with the people you love …”

I stride into the kitchen towards our smart speaker and order it to shut up. The sudden silence is deafening.

“Mum?” I repeat.

The kitchen is a complete mess. Mum hasn’t bothered putting the breakfast stuff in the dishwasher and everything is still out on the breakfast bar. Freddie’s bowl of Coco Pops is congealing in the late‑afternoon sun. His spilt chocolate milk is still a dark puddle on the countertop.

And there is a bottle sitting on the side. A large empty bottle of vodka.

I turn towards the conservatory, towards Mum’s workspace. I guess I am still expecting to see her there, her nose stuck in a magazine, waiting for her next client.

What I do see takes the breath right out of my lungs.

“Mum!” I shout.

She is there all right. But not sitting on the chair as I hoped. Instead she is sprawled on the tiled floor, with broken glass gleaming all around her.

And she isn’t moving.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.