make sure this gets front page,’ she promised, and then, sensing the woman’s need, she reached out to hug her. ‘Stay strong,’ she murmured. ‘You’ll get through this.’
Once in her car, Cassie swiped the tears from her face, gripped the steering wheel and took several slow breaths as images of Josh once again flooded her mind. She pictured him as a toddler, when his love for her was unquestioning. Her love for him had been all-consuming, from the second she’d first held him to the second she lost him. She’d known when that second was. She was sure she’d felt some primal pull on her heartstrings. Only a mother could ever feel that. No matter what happened, no one could ever take that pure love away from her.
Feeling more composed after a minute, she started the car. She was heading for home when she realised she was approaching the park she’d visited so often with Josh. It was like a magnet.
She could hear the thwack of tennis balls as she walked past the courts where she’d spent hours on Sundays teaching Josh how to play. There was no one on the courts now; only the ghost of him. No children on the roundabout or the swings as they creaked in the wind, but still she could hear the melodic sound of laughter. She was glad when a young man playing fetch with his dog hurried on. She’d probably scared him off. She must look pretty pathetic, a grown woman sitting on a swing weeping.
‘I’m sorry, Josh,’ she whispered. Please forgive me.
She sat for a while, careless of the rain that had started. What did the person who’d texted her want? After Josh had gone, she’d thought there was nothing left that anyone could take from her. But there was. This person might take everything she’d realised was worth living for.
She glanced at the heavens. Droplets of rain falling like saltless tears on her cheeks, she prayed silently for God to give her strength to fight whatever battle might come, and then reached for her phone.
What do you know? she typed.
You know as well as I do, came the reply. How do you sleep at night?
Twelve
Kimberley
Kim’s heart sank when she saw the guy she was renting the house from. He was a younger version of her dad, stinking of body odour, a beer bottle in his hand. She didn’t dare look at Cassie and Adam behind her. Hopefully they would be more impressed with the house. One of a small row of houses on a quiet lane just outside Hibbleton, it had a cottagey feel. Despite it being old, it didn’t look in that bad a bad state of repair from the outside, which had been Adam’s concern, and had two bedrooms and a box room inside, as well as a small kitchen and dining room, a living room, and a conservatory on the back. It probably needed a lick of paint inside, the man had said.
Noting his gaze straying warily from her to Adam, who was considerably taller than he was, and also muscular, Kim thought she’d better introduce them. She wanted this little house. It was part of her plan for the future. She had a feeling her ‘landlord’ might back out if he thought there was a chance anyone would find out about him sub-letting the property, which was something she hadn’t mentioned to Adam or Cassie. ‘This is Adam,’ she said, giving the man a smile. ‘My dead fiancé’s father.’ Her eyes filling up, as they were bound to when she thought about Josh, she glanced sadly down at Samuel in the pushchair. ‘He’s going to help me redecorate.’
Seeming somewhat placated, the guy nodded.
‘And this is Cassie, his mum. She’s been helping me with little Samuel since his dad died,’ Kim went on, knowing she was playing the sympathy card but suspecting Cassie wouldn’t mind, given her reasons.
‘We’ve been offering each other emotional support,’ Cassie picked up, extending her hand. The man looked surprised. He’d probably never had a classy-looking woman wanting to shake his hand before. ‘Pleased to meet you…?’
‘Jonnie,’ he supplied, swapping his beer to his left hand before offering the right.
‘I’m going to help Kim with the furnishings for the nursery.’ Cassie smiled. ‘I hope you don’t mind me having a quick look?’
The man shrugged. ‘Knock yourself out,’ he said, tipping the dregs of his beer back and then turning to park the bottle to the side of the front door. ‘Slam the door