Amanda Brooke - The Bad Mother - The addictive, gripping thriller that will make you question everything

‘No, you’re not,’ she replied as she relaxed into him. ‘I shouldn’t need taking care of.’

Adam had taken off his suit jacket and tie but, despite a day in the office, Lucy could still smell the fabric conditioner on his shirt. Adam could choose to go to work in T-shirt and jeans if he wasn’t meeting clients but he liked to dress smartly. He had been wearing a formal jacket when she had first met him that fateful summer’s evening, albeit matched with chinos.

Adam’s boss, Ranjit, had organized an impromptu mid-week barbecue to celebrate a big contract and make the most of the glorious weather. Lucy had simply been dropping off the painting his wife had commissioned and she had been in a rush, needing to get home to pick up her backpack and tent before catching a coach to Leeds. She was dressed in her festival gear complete with cut-off jeans and flowers in her hair and was champing at the bit to get moving, but Ranjit had insisted on introducing her to his friends and showing off the portrait of his two kids. Adam had shown a keen interest, despite having no children or pets for her to paint, and she had given him her number. She had moved in with him six months later, had married him the following summer and this summer they would be parents. It had all happened so fast.

‘This forgetfulness is really getting to you, isn’t it?’

‘I felt better after speaking to Mum but knowing it’s my hormones doesn’t make it any less frustrating.’

He gave her a quick squeeze. ‘Could it be that you’re not completely convinced it is this baby brain thing?’

‘It does make sense,’ she tried.

‘But …?’ he asked, and when she didn’t answer he added, ‘You’re thinking about your dad, aren’t you?’

Despite her best efforts, Lucy could feel her frustrations rise up again, twisting her insides. She was trying not to think about her dad, and while her little mishaps were getting to her, she could accept that they were the benign symptoms of life as a new wife and mother, or at least she would if Adam’s prodding didn’t unsettle her so much. Did he see her unravelling in ways that she could not?

‘I know you mean well but this has nothing to do with what happened with Dad. I’m not the first person who’s survived a troubled childhood.’

She shot him a pointed look but Adam didn’t flinch. He had told her only the salient facts about his early life, but it was enough for Lucy to realize that there was more than one way to rend apart a family. Adam had chosen to block out the pain of his past, which was fine, that was how some people survived. It had worked for her mum, and Lucy was eager to follow their example.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she continued. ‘I’m annoyed by my own carelessness, that’s all.’

‘Why won’t you talk about this, Lucy?’ he asked. ‘Is it too scary to admit that what happened with your dad might have left its mark?’

Adam scrutinized her features but before he could find what he was looking for, she dropped her head back down on his shoulder. Squeezing her eyes shut, Lucy let her mind fill with memories of her dad reading to her, playing with her, laughing and joking. There were darker memories too, sounds of raised voices, doors slamming, and silence. It was the silence that had scared her most, but she had been too young to understand why.

‘I’m not denying it left its mark. I was eight years old and I was confused, especially when no one would give me proper answers. I was scared that what happened to Dad would happen to Mum.’

‘Or to you?’

‘Maybe,’ she confessed, holding herself so taut that her body trembled.

With his chin resting on her head, Adam’s voice was muffled by her curls. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, but I’m not sure this is something we should ignore. You’re about to give birth and it’s natural for you to worry about what one generation might have passed on to the next.’

‘I know, but worrying won’t make it go away and talking about it isn’t helping,’ Lucy said as she forced herself up and reached for the glass of cordial. Taking a generous sip, she swallowed her fear.

Adam tugged at her jumper to bring her back to him. ‘How about we start this again?’ he said. ‘Let’s forget about lost keys and gas hobs.’

‘Tell me about your day,’ she said as brightly as she could manage. ‘Did you sort out that interface thing, or will you have to go to Manchester tomorrow?’

‘It couldn’t be fixed,’ he said, ‘and I’m going to be on site for the rest of the week, so expect some early starts and late nights.’

‘I’ll try not to fidget so much in bed,’ said Lucy, recalling his earlier complaint. ‘I don’t want you driving all that way with no sleep.’

‘Don’t worry, it’s not like I haven’t got used to all your thrashing about.’

She dug her elbow into his side. ‘I do not thrash about.’

‘It’s worse when you stop. Then you snore.’

When Lucy giggled, she was surprised how quickly she could switch from tears to laughter. Her husband had a special gift. ‘Now I know you’re lying.’

They were quiet for a moment, comfortable in each other’s arms. She felt safe enough to picture a scene four months from now when there would be chaos all about them. She imagined their panic as they threaded tiny limbs into complicated baby clothes, tripped over boxes of nappies or waged silent arguments over who had lost the TV remote as their baby slept. It was going to be amazing.

‘So what do you think?’ asked Adam.

‘Hmm?’ she said, coming back from her daydream.

‘The Sandstone Trail.’

‘What about the Sandstone Trail?’ she asked, confused by his non sequitur.

She knew the trail well because it was where Adam had taken her on one of their first dates. His firm had organized the gruelling two-day trek and one of their first stopping points had been a craggy outcrop on the sandstone ridge that ran from Frodsham to Whitchurch. Adam had lured her to the edge to take in the stunning view across the Cheshire plains and towards Liverpool, not realizing how she had trembled in fear. It was there, on the spot they now referred to as Heart’s Leap, that she had told him about her father and, if she wasn’t mistaken, it pinpointed the exact moment they had fallen in love.

‘Did you hear a word I was saying?’

Lucy straightened up, certain that her husband was teasing her and she would catch a sneaky smile on his face; instead his expression was one of concern. ‘But you didn’t say anything.’

Adam took a breath but whatever he was about to say was released with a sigh. ‘Never mind. I was saying that Ranjit’s organizing another charity walk this year.’

Lucy’s heart rattled against her ribcage. ‘You never spoke a word, Adam. Are you sure you weren’t simply thinking it in your head?’

Adam’s raised eyebrow spoke volumes, and while she didn’t understand how she could have remained oblivious to what was going on around her, she couldn’t face another debate that would only serve to highlight her shortcomings.

‘I must have been miles away,’ she said with a casual shrug that sent a cold shiver skittering down her spine. ‘I was thinking about the baby and how manic it’s going to be when she arrives.’ Draining her glass, she returned it to the tray with shaking hands. ‘So go on, tell me about the walk.’

‘Lucy …’ Adam began, less eager to gloss over what had just happened.

‘When is it?’

‘At the beginning of August,’ he said with a note of resignation. ‘I told Ranjit you probably wouldn’t want to do it.’

‘Too right. The baby will be less than two months old and I’d rather not risk it,’ she said. Although her lips were moving and words came out, her mind was elsewhere. She forced the panic to the corners of her mind where she wished it would stay. She needed to concentrate if she were to avoid another mistake. ‘Do you still want to do it?’