ML Roberts - The Wife – Part Two - For Better, For Worse

A division of HarperCollins Publishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Harper Impulse

an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by Harper Impulse 2017

Copyright © ML Roberts 2017

Cover photographs © Shutterstock.com

Cover design by Ellie Game © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2017

ML Roberts 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.

Ebook Edition © September 2017 ISBN: 9780008259877

Version: 2017-09-26

For my husband. His constant support has been everything.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page A division of HarperCollins Publishers www.harpercollins.co.uk

Copyright Harper Impulse an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by Harper Impulse 2017 Copyright © ML Roberts 2017 Cover photographs © Shutterstock.com Cover design by Ellie Game © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2017 ML Roberts 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. Ebook Edition © September 2017 ISBN: 9780008259877 Version: 2017-09-26

Dedication For my husband. His constant support has been everything.

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading…

About the Author

About HarperImpulse

About the Publisher

I start to pull the door towards me, a slight breeze blowing in from outside as it slowly opens, and then I hear it – that sound, a scream that barely has time to resonate before it’s quickly stopped, and it takes a second before I realise it was me, I was the one screaming; the one who was silenced by a hand being clamped heavily over my mouth.

It was me who was screaming…

Michael blamed himself for not protecting me. He blamed himself for everything, but it wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t.

Not really.

I pull my knees to my chest and hug them tightly as I sit in the corner of the room that should have been our baby’s nursery. The light, bright yellow walls are almost taunting me, smiling down at me, reminding me of what this room should have been.

The people Michael and I should have been.

Parents.

Fourteen Months Earlier

I can’t feel anything but fear. It’s all-consuming. As I’m slammed back against the glass door I want to cry out in pain, but I can’t; that hand is still clamped firmly over my mouth.

I close my eyes, squeeze them shut, try to pretend this is a dream. I’m going to wake up any second now because this isn’t happening. And then the hand is roughly removed, and I let out a gasp, double over, clasp my stomach. I need to protect my baby.

A smell of a strong floral perfume fills my nostrils and I look up, my head seemingly taking an eternity to raise itself – it feels like everything is happening in slow motion right now.

‘You’re prettier than I thought you’d be.’

Her words both confuse and terrify me, and I back up against the door, my hand still splayed out over my stomach. I don’t know what to do.

‘How did you get in here?’

Her eyes glance over my shoulder at the door behind me. ‘You made it too easy.’

I frown, look behind me. I remember Michael took the rubbish out a couple of hours ago… We always check every door is locked before we go to bed, before we go out. Always, without fail. At least I thought we did.

‘I was just going to rock up on your doorstep, invite myself in, but, you know, it was nice of you to give me an easier entrance. Glad I checked first. All I had to do was scale that fence and there I was, out there, in your garden. Michael talked a lot about his garden. He’s got a vegetable patch, right? Over by the summer house?’

Who the hell is she? How does she know about Michael’s vegetable patch, my summer house? How does she know where we live?

She raises her eyes to the high ceiling, her mouth falling slightly open, and I watch her – this woman who’s invaded our home. I watch as she looks around her, turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees, spinning around until she’s back facing me. ‘You have a lovely home.’ She drops her head forward, her eyes staring straight at me. ‘And you … Ellie, isn’t it?’ Her head falls to one side again as she looks me up and down. ‘I don’t know … I guess I expected someone…’ She lets that sentence tail off, but her eyes continue to stare right through me, and I feel that fear rising, I’m terrified. ‘It doesn’t matter…’

She shakes her head as she turns away, walks back out into the kitchen; and that’s when I reach behind me. I try to fumble for the door handle, shifting my body slightly, I don’t want to turn my back on her for too long, I just need to see what I’m doing. But that was a mistake, turning away from her, even for a second; she’s behind me before I can grab hold of the handle. The kick she gives to the back of my legs knocks the breath right out of me, and I fall to the ground, hitting my head on the tiled floor as I land. Her fingers grasp my wrist, drag me up off the floor, a wave of pain shooting up my arm. I must have landed on it. But I don’t have time to dwell on that. I don’t even have time to take another breath before she’s thrown me back against the floor-to-ceiling window, her fingers winding in my hair, yanking my head back. Her sweet, cloying perfume is unbearably strong, and I feel a sickening jolt of fear at what this woman might do to my baby.