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the police and tell them what I saw. The fact that he is still a free man suggests that they don’t know about him yet. But I presume this is why his ex-wife no longer wants him around. If only she had notified the police instead of just divorcing him then I wouldn’t be in this mess now.

But just before Tim is out, he pauses and turns back to look at me.

‘You saw the photos, didn’t you?’ he asks, and I feel as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room as I freeze and stare at his cold, calculating face right in front of me. But then it gets worse because he pulls on the door, and I lose my grip on the handle, allowing him to step back inside before I can get him out.

If I felt like I couldn’t breathe before, now I feel even worse with the door closed again.

19

HEATHER

ONE MINUTE LATER

Tim stares at me from his position in front of the door, and I bet he feels powerful blocking my best escape route. But he must know that I’m not going to try and get away because Chloe is still upstairs, and he definitely knows that I will do anything to keep her from him now.

‘Please, just leave,’ I beg, my smiley façade long gone as tears well up in my eyes. ‘I won’t tell anyone. I won’t call the police. I swear.’

Tim studies me, trying to get a read on if I am telling him the truth or not. But right now, I am. I just need him out of here.

‘Why would you call the police?’ he asks me, shrugging his shoulders. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong. So I’ve taken a few photos. All of the ones of Chloe are from the park, and she looks more than happy in them, I think you’ll agree.’

I know there is obviously so much more to it than that, but I figure that arguing with him and fighting my point might not be my best course of action.

‘You’re right. You have been kind to Chloe, so I’ve got no reason to do anything,’ I tell him, nodding my head slowly as if to convince him. ‘Just go, and everything will be okay.’

‘But I’m guessing it’s not the photos of Chloe that got you so worked up, is it?’ Tim says, stepping towards me and forcing me to take a few steps of my own back towards the staircase. ‘You saw the pictures of Bethany, didn’t you?’

I’d love to lie at this point and tell him that I didn’t, but my terrified expression must give myself away.

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought,’ he says, letting out a deep sigh.

‘What did you do to her?’ I ask, the question almost leaving my lips before I have a chance to think about if it was a good idea or not.

But Tim doesn’t answer that, which is almost as scary as if he had.

‘This doesn’t have to be the end of us,’ he says, stepping ever closer to me. ‘We can still make this work. I can still move in here. You don’t have to be on your own.’

I can’t believe he is trying to get me to trade my daughter’s safety for a chance to ease my loneliness. He really is despicable. But he is also getting closer to me, and I’m almost backed up to the staircase now. I really don’t want to move from here because I’m the only thing standing between him and Chloe upstairs, but he’s not giving me much choice. This isn’t going well. I need to change my tactics.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, nodding my head. ‘I was just surprised, that’s all. But you’re right. It doesn’t have to be the end of us.’

Tim smiles as he takes another couple of steps towards me until he is able to reach out and put his hand on my shoulder. His once-warm touch feels deadly cold now, but I do my best to not let it show as I maintain eye contact and pretend that I mean what I say.

‘I knew I could make you see things my way,’ he says. ‘You’re so much more understanding than Bethany’s mother was. I love that about you.’

The mention of his ex-wife fills me with dread because I no longer see her as a love rival or an obstacle for us to overcome. Now I see her as a victim, a poor mother who was just as unlucky to have this man come into her life as I was.

‘That’s right,’ I lie, nodding my head again. ‘I’m not going to leave you like she did. I just got scared. But I don’t want to lose you.’

I try not to break eye contact with him in case it betrays what I have just said, and I must do a good job of it because Tim smiles again before leading me back over to the sofa. But the firm grip he keeps on my right hand lets me know that this is not an affectionate gesture. Rather, it’s telling me that he is in control and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Unless I take my chance now.

As we pass the coffee table beside the sofa, I scoop up the empty wine bottle and bring it down hard on his head, hearing two loud noises as I do.

The dull thud of the bottle hitting his skull before the loud shattering of the glass.

Tim yelps in pain as he drops to the floor, and at first, I think I have drawn blood from him until I realise it is just the dregs of the red wine dripping onto the carpet from the jagged edges of the bottle top that I still hold in my hand.

I was hoping that the strong blow would knock him unconscious, but that hasn’t happened, and now he is getting back to his feet, one hand on his head but the other balled into a fist which

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