Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,61

the night of the mugging.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you,’ he said.

Abby swallowed down the anguish and made herself sit up. ‘It’s OK,’ she said stiffly.

‘I’m here to talk to you about the incident the other evening,’ said the policeman. ‘My name is Captain Matteo Morelli.’

She’d given him a description of one of her attackers – the other man, the one who’d thrust his knife into her shoulder, she hadn’t seen. Captain Morelli had asked if he could stay in touch while the police tried to pursue the culprits. Of course, nothing came of it. Back in the UK, Abby was left broken. The mugging had changed her. She lost a client at work – or at least, she knew her boss silently blamed her for the client’s withdrawal of business. Before she’d left for her trip she’d been at the top of her game. A director with lucrative bonuses, shares in the company. But now she was petrified of everything. She couldn’t walk home from the station at night, which put paid to staying late at the office. In fact, she no longer even had the energy for work; she could barely get up in the morning. The whole thing felt so pointless. All that effort, all those savings, and for what? What if she’d lost her life that night in the alley?

The hospital staff had got in touch with Susanna when Abby was admitted, but Abby had fobbed her off with a story of a minor theft and downplayed the physical injuries. She’d made it sound so inconsequential she knew her mother was likely to forget about it fairly quickly. Abby didn’t bother telling Ellie at all. She couldn’t. She’d spent her entire life proving to her sister and her mother that she was entirely self-sufficient and now she felt great shame at what she’d allowed to happen.

The official emails from Matteo had migrated to a personal address and Abby kept up the correspondence as a distraction from work as much as anything else. But she also got a comfort from them. Matteo was the person who’d been there when she needed help. He was the only one who fully understood what she’d been through. They met up in London a couple of times and then Abby went to visit him on the island of Elba, where he’d been offered a new post. They sat in cafes by the beaches, the skies still blue even in winter, and Abby relished the peace, the tranquil pace of life. People were friendly; the villagers appeared to all know one another and look out for each other. Above all, it seemed safe.

During that trip he asked her to marry him. He also showed her a house he’d found, and when Abby went out into the back garden and saw the pathway to the sea, she felt herself well up.

Abby decided to quit her job. For good. It was the only rash thing she’d ever done in her life. Then she did the second rash thing – she bought the house with Matteo in the fear that she might change her mind about the retirement. Now there was no going back. They moved in together in early spring and Abby told herself she was living the dream.

FORTY-TWO

Abby opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. She lifted her head off the gravel that was cutting into her cheek and looked up the alley, silently begging for someone to see her. People were passing by on the main street, just metres away, but totally oblivious to her attack. She tried to cry out again and again but her vocal cords failed to vibrate. She was aware of the two men beating her, of the pain and the overpowering sense of helplessness, and then she saw her mother up ahead. Her heart soared – surely Susanna had come to look for her? And despite the fact Abby was unable to cry out, she somehow sensed that Susanna would look straight down the alley and see her. But her mother was facing in the wrong direction. Turn, urged Abby desperately, look around, but Susanna didn’t and then she started to walk away. Panic gripped Abby, along with a sense of total and utter abandonment.

Her eyes flew open. Her heart was thudding in her chest and it took her a minute to understand where she was. She could feel her sweat on the sheets and pulled her damp T-shirt away from her body. Leaning over