Sins of the Father
Emma Chambers has an way out of the poverty-stricken life she lives – but it might just destroy her to take it…The gritty new tale from the bestselling author of NOBODY’S GIRL.DESPERATE…Left to raise eight siblings after her mother's death, 17-year-old Emma Chambers faces a daily battle with hunger and her father's drunken rages.Until she is offered a way out. If she marries landlord Horace Bell - twenty years her senior - Emma can swap abject poverty for comfort.DEGRADED…But Horace soon reveals his true, sadistic colours. Emma is thankful when he eventually abandons her - until she realises she is again penniless and in peril.A chance meeting plants an idea in her mind. All her life, men have taken advantage of her. Now it's time to turn the tables.IN DANGER…Years later, and Emma has built up a successful business on South London's meanest streets. But then tragedy strikes - and it becomes clear that someone has been watching Emma, intent on revenge…
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KITTY NEALE
Sins of the Father
Published by Avon an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
This ebook edition published by HarperCollins Publishers 2016
First published in paperback by HarperCollinsPublishers, 2008
Copyright © Kitty Neale 2008
Cover design © Debbie Clement 2016
Cover photographs: Getty
Kitty Neale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of 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.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9781847563491
Ebook Edition © May 2016 ISBN 9780007334940
Version: 2016-04-13
For Ann Jones, a dear friend who speaks with the wisdom of angels. To me she is more than a friend. She is a kindred spirit, who, despite time and distance, is always in my heart. This one is for you, Ann, with all my love.
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Keep Reading …
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
By the same author
About the Publisher
The woman stood outside the train station, a leaflet held out in appeal, whilst a high wind fought to snatch it from her hand.
‘Please,’ she begged, ‘have you seen this little girl?’
As had so many others, the man ignored her plea, brushing her aside as he hurried past. Rain began to fall, small spatters at first, but as heavy clouds gathered it became heavier, soon soaking both her hair and clothes.
It didn’t stop the woman. Nothing would. Clasping the rest of the leaflets close to her chest, she tottered forward, thrusting one towards a young woman emerging from the station wearing a straight red skirt and pointy-toed shoes.
‘Please, have you seen this little girl?’
The woman took it, her eyes showing sympathy as she said, ‘Sorry, no.’
‘Please, look again.’
The young lady lowered her eyes to the picture, but then, needing both hands to open her umbrella, she shook her head, the picture falling onto the wet pavement. She wrestled the wind to keep the umbrella over her head, her grip tight and knuckles white as she bustled away.
The woman watched her for a moment, but then her eyes came to rest on the leaflet lying wet and forlorn on the pavement. A gasp escaped her lips. The eyes of her child seemed to gaze back at her, rain spattering the picture as though tears on her cheeks. She shivered with fear, vowing silently, Oh God, I have to find you–I have to.
She straightened her shoulders, desperation and determination in her stance. Another train disgorged its passengers, and as they streamed from the station she saw a tide of faces. Hand held out, she once again proffered her leaflets.
It was dark before she gave up, uncaring that she was soaked to the skin and almost dead on her feet as she trudged home.
The house felt empty, desolate, as she walked inside, the plush décor meaning nothing to her now. She was alone. They had all gone, but it didn’t matter. The only one she cared about was her daughter.
