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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2018
Copyright © Lucie Wheeler 2018
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018
Cover illustrations © Shutterstock.com
Lucie Wheeler asserts the moral right
to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
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Souce ISBN: 9780008216566
Ebook Edition © May 2018 ISBN: 9780008216559
Version 2018-02-23
To all the mums and dads all over the world.
Whether you are a biological parent, step parent, grandparent, adoptive parent, foster parent, surrogate parent, carer, guardian… whatever your capacity is, just remember that you are doing an incredible thing.
Keep sharing the love with children all over the world and remember that it is ok to not know what you are doing, because to your children, you are doing everything they will ever need just by being there and loving them.
You are not alone – remember that.
‘Are you for real?’ Nancy exhaled hard in disbelief as she stared open-eyed at her husband.
‘Don’t be like that, Nance; try to see it from my point of view.’
He looked tired, unshaven and pretty much like he had given up on life. Nancy couldn’t blame him; it had been a hard few years for the pair of them – for all of them actually. But she didn’t have the option of giving up, and neither should he.
‘Your point of view? Are you actually saying these words? Can you hear yourself, Pete?’
He slammed down his glass of wine and stomped into the kitchen, leaning his hands on the butler sink edge and dropping his head in shame. Nancy followed closely behind him, not trusting him to finish what he’d started. They were supposed to be having a nice romantic meal tonight. Jack was upstairs in bed (although not asleep because he didn’t really do sleep), the dining table in the living room was set out with a bottle of red wine and candles and Pete had chosen the break between their lentil soup starter and the chicken and chorizo tray bake that was in the oven to tell her he was leaving her.
‘I … I … I don’t understand.’
He stayed facing the sink, not giving her the eye contact she so desperately wanted. ‘It’s too hard.’
‘What is?’
‘Him!’ Pete shouted, as he turned round and gestured his finger to the ceiling, indicating their six-year-old son upstairs.
Nancy felt her stomach turn as she listened to Pete talk about Jack with such frustration. A mix of anger and pain churning round together. She took a deep breath. ‘He’s our son,’ she said, the words barely coming out as a whisper.
Pete threw his hands to his head and covered his eyes, groaning in frustration. Nancy wasn’t sure if it was with her, Jack or himself. Either way, she was heartbroken. ‘I know! I just … I can’t keep doing this. I can’t handle his funny little quirks and his demands and his … you know … his … stupid little things!’
‘Stupid?’ she gasped. ‘Pete, he can’t help it!’
‘There must be a way to make him better.’
‘He’s not ill!’ She was starting to get annoyed now.
‘Well, he’s not right though, is he!’ he challenged, staring her straight in the eyes for the first time since he’d announced his departure from their family.
‘What is wrong with you?’ She creased her face in disbelief. ‘He is your son – how can you be so disrespectful to him?’
‘Nance, listen to me.’ He moved forward and tried to take her hands but she snatched them away. She couldn’t have him touching her. She felt disgusted by the thought of his hands on her right now, and he realised this as she backed away and exhaled, dropping his hands by his side. ‘I just need some space. To get my head around it all.’