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by all the cushions and wrapped warm in the duvet. It was a TV bed that meant she could have her own private cinema. It was the only room in the house that did not make her think of Cecelia. It was like her poison stopped at the door to the bedroom – an invisible barrier that she could not penetrate. Sam and Flora had chosen the décor in this room. Hence the massive sixty-five-inch television, hooked up to a PlayStation, a computer, and an Xbox. The rest of the décor had been chosen by Flora and she had painted one wall bright orange just to annoy Cecelia and the rest in an off-white. The orange wall was diluted by the fact Sam had covered it in pictures.

Since she had moved in, Sam had taken to hanging photographs of their lives together. Every so often she would come in the room and there would be a new photograph on the wall. They weren’t all photos at occasions like weddings and parties, but silly selfies he had snapped on his phone. From the very first picture they had taken together to the last, it was possible for anyone looking at the wall to see their love had not diminished with time, it had only become stronger.

Could she really give that up without a fight? She looked around the room, trying to contain her misery, realising that unless she could come up with a solution, her days with Sam may be numbered. All she knew was that she needed to find a way that she could save both Sophie and her marriage. How was she supposed to choose between the two people she loved most in the world?

46

‘Ah, Sophie. So happy you could join us.’ Alistair smiled widely. Only his eyes betrayed the malice behind his words. The pub was a boozer pub, where the floor was sticky, and the air stagnant; not the sort of place Alistair Cavendish would frequent. But the person sitting next to him most certainly would.

Her mother.

The years had not been kind. Lily looked like she had been soaked in alcohol. Her skin was sallow and stretched and had turned slightly yellow. Her hair was mostly grey and greasy. She smiled over at Sophie and revealed a set of yellow and brown teeth with gaps where some had fallen out. Was that a bit of sick staining her blue jacket?

Her eyes hadn’t changed, though, they were the same piercing, ocean blue that Sophie remembered as a child. Those eyes had been staring at Sophie whilst accusing her of stealing alcohol and shredding her precious books when she wouldn’t reveal where the non-existent alcohol was. Those eyes had burned bright with glee at finding Sophie’s stash of money that she had earned cleaning cars in the baking sun. Those eyes had been unfocused and bloodshot after spending that money on three bottles of vodka. Those eyes had almost ruined her life. She thought she had escaped those eyes forever.

‘Hello, darling.’ Her alcoholic perfume was cloying and it caught in the back of Sophie’s throat, trying to choke her. Judging by the way Lily could barely hold herself upright, it seemed she was already half-cut. ‘Aren’t we all grown up?’

Sophie was surprised her mother recognised her. The last time they had seen each other, Sophie had been fifteen and had managed to use a fake ID to rent her own flat. She had slammed the door on her mother and had never looked back. Until now, she had not even known if Lily was alive as there was every possibility she had drunk herself to death. Without Sophie there to help her when she got so drunk that she vomited while unconscious or tried to light the gas stove, who would save her?

Alistair was looking like the cat that got the cream, and Sophie wished not for the first time that her mother had died. She completely ignored her mother and focused on Alistair. ‘What is she doing here?’

‘Tsk. Come now, is that any way to speak about your long-lost mother?’

‘I said, what is she doing here?’

Alistair smiled broadly. With his Armani suit with the pocket chief, he looked like a champagne glass on a shelf full of chipped, grubby mugs. She was surprised he hadn’t been robbed. ‘We were just having a very… enlightening… conversation. One of many, I hope.’ He turned to Lily, retrieving his wallet from his suit pocket. He withdrew a roll of £20 notes and passed them to Lily, who glanced between him and the money in disbelief.

‘Here. Take this and get yourself a drink. Keep the change.’ He winked at Sophie. Lily took the money and squealed like a small child on Christmas Day, tripping over in her haste to get to the bar. Alistair chuckled. ‘What an interesting woman. I can certainly see the resemblance.’

Sophie bristled, but bit down hard on her tongue. Do not rise to it, she chided herself. ‘What exactly were you talking about?’ she asked, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

Alistair tapped his nose. ‘Never you mind. But safe to say, it was extremely interesting. It has definitely made me look at you in a whole new light.’ He stared at her with twinkling eyes.

Her heart pounded and she tried to surreptitiously take some calming breaths. He was bluffing. He had to be.

‘Now. Let’s get down to business.’

Sophie went cold.

He said, ‘I have been feeling very uncomfortable lately. I do not like to feel uncomfortable.’

‘My heart bleeds,’ said Sophie with more bravado than she actually felt. She was well aware how dangerous Alistair was when crossed.

‘Now, now. I’d be very careful how you speak to me, Sophie. Remember, I have the power to destroy your life.’ He took her hand and kissed the back of it. ‘But I hope it won’t come to that, of course.’

Sophie couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t know. Only two people in the world knew her secret. A secret so powerful

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