The Serial Killer's Wife by Alice Hunter (best romantic novels to read .txt) 📗

it ticks away at twice the speed of light.’ His voice is soft, and I can tell he’s talking about his experience with losing Camilla. ‘I’m aware that doesn’t make sense. I’m crap at analogies.’

‘Oh, trust me, it makes perfect sense. What have you been up to today?’ I ask, to change the subject and try to bring him, and me, out of the depths of misery.

We’ve been talking for what I think is about ten minutes, but as I wander into the kitchen to get a drink, I glance at the wall clock and panic grips me. ‘Adam! I’ve got to go, sorry. It’s gone eight!’

He gives a gasp, says a brief ‘Good luck!’ and hangs up.

Shit, have I missed the call? How could I have let that happen? I hastily check my mobile. No missed calls. I slam the phone on the kitchen worktop and steady myself. The taste of bile is strong in my mouth; I haven’t eaten all day, there’s nothing but acid in my stomach.

Please hurry up and get this over with.

Eight eleven.

My phone remains stubbornly silent. Unlike the whooshing noise in my ears. I’m afraid to think what my blood pressure might be. At this rate I’ll have a heart attack or a stroke before I know about Tom.

‘Ring already!’ I tell my phone.

And then it does.

I want to cry – the tension is too great. For a few seconds I just stare at the screen. Maxwell’s name fills me with fear.

I want to know, yet I don’t.

Once I answer, everything will be different. Our lives will be altered whatever the outcome. We’re cats in Schrodinger’s box.

For the minute, Tom is both innocent and guilty. Am I ready for the reality of which it’ll be?

With a deep breath, I stab the button to accept the call.

‘Beth?’

The coward in me wants to immediately hang up. ‘Ye–yeah, it’s me,’ I say, surprised at the weakness of my voice.

‘Right,’ he says. ‘I have some news.’

The world stops spinning; dizziness overcomes me. I’m going to fall off.

‘Breathe, Beth.’ Maxwell’s voice sounds distant. I do as he says.

‘Go on,’ I say, sitting down before I faint.

The next words out of Maxwell’s mouth will determine my and Poppy’s future.

Chapter 30

BETH

Now

‘I’m so very sorry, Beth. Tom has been charged with the murder of Katie Williams.’

Everything else Maxwell says is drowned out by the frantic beating of my heart. Opposing thoughts collide in my mind; emotions crash together and splinter: I have no idea what to do; how to react; what to say. I catch the words ‘denied bail’ before a splitting pain in my head takes over everything, paralysing me, and I hang up without responding. Without asking Maxwell what happens next.

I couldn’t even ask for an explanation or ask to speak to Tom.

I need to lie down in a darkened room.

‘Mummy!’ Little hands nudge my shoulder and I open my eyes.

Oh, no – how long have I been asleep? Disorientated, I slowly sit up. ‘Poppy, darling, why aren’t you in bed?’ It can’t be morning already. The striking pain in my head has dulled, but nausea hits me – the acid is churning, threatening to expel itself.

‘You didn’t come when I called,’ she says. My bedside lamp illuminates her tear-stained face. I don’t remember turning it on, don’t remember climbing into bed even. I try to assimilate my last memories and the recollection of Maxwell’s call comes crashing back.

Oh, God. What will I tell Poppy?

‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart – did you have a bad dream?’ I swipe my hand under Tom’s pillow, take my mobile phone and check the time. It’s not quite midnight. ‘Do you want to jump in bed with me?’ I pull back the duvet on Tom’s side.

‘Where’s Daddy?’ Poppy rubs at her eyes, her mouth formed into a pout.

This is it. This is where I need to tell her something more solid than ‘away working’. But I’m not alert enough to think up anything better. Anything that’s closer to the truth.

‘He’s not going to be home for a bit, Poppy. He’s got important work to do,’ I say, reaching out and lifting her into the bed. We snuggle down and I stroke the delicate skin on her cheek. ‘Go back to sleep, my poppet.’

For now, she appears content with the brief explanation, but I know it won’t last. I have no idea what she’ll pick up on once she’s outside of these four walls. Whether the news of Tom’s charge, his possible conviction, might impact on her beyond his absence from home. Sleep will be impossible now; I can’t silence my worries. When the sun rises, will everyone be waking to the news that Tom has been charged with murder? Will Julia and the mums, Lucy, Adam, be as supportive when they find out? I’ve been lucky to have started to make closer friendships in the village, but it’s still early days and it might not be enough now. It’s not as though they were the kind of deeply meaningful friendships that could take the strain of such a revelation.

They’ll be kind for Poppy’s sake, though, won’t they?

Chapter 31

Smooth, unblemished hands grip her throat. Tighter and tighter, until she can draw no more breath. His weight begins to crush her; his straddled legs press in hard against her sides – but the air already in her lungs has nowhere to go. It remains trapped, burning inside her weakening body. She imagines her lungs bursting like overinflated balloons. The sensation, which at first she’d found almost pleasurable, is now painful. She wriggles harder beneath him; reaches a hand to push at his chest. His grasp doesn’t loosen.

He’s going to kill her.

Her bulging eyes stare at the damp spot on the ceiling. Will this be her last image? This isn’t how it was meant to be.

The edges of the jagged mark above her blur. Darken. She drifts.

A gasp.

Light floods her vision as air is released, then is quickly sucked back into her