Single (ARC)

by K. L. Slater

  Single

  A totally gripping psychological thriller full of twists

  K.L. Slater

  Books by K.L. Slater

  Single

  The Silent Ones

  Finding Grace

  Closer

  The Secret

  The Visitor

  The Mistake

  Liar

  Blink

  Safe With Me

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Blink

  Hear More From K.L. Slater

  Books by K.L. Slater

  A Letter From K.L. Slater

  The Silent Ones

  Finding Grace

  Closer

  The Secret

  The Visitor

  The Mistake

  Liar

  Safe With Me

  Acknowledgements

  To my daughter, Francesca

  Prologue

  Three Years Earlier

  The day of the hearing, it was mid-July, scorching hot and I’d dressed in jeans and a thick cable-knit sweater with a roll neck.

  I stood, staring at the front door waiting for my social worker, Audrey.

  The house was silent, the boys’ rooms empty.

  Rivulets of sweat ran down my back, pooling at the waistband. The eczema on my hands and neck was the worst it had been, so I’d slipped on a pair of olive-green leather gloves.

  I’d wrapped Joel’s old striped college scarf around my neck and topped it all off with a pair of red plastic sunglasses I found in the kitchen drawer that I’d got free once with a magazine.

  It seemed the right thing to do at the time.

  ‘Have you taken your medication?’ Audrey looked me up and down when I opened the front door.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Let’s go back upstairs and find you something to wear that’s a bit more comfortable, shall we?’

  ‘I am comfortable,’ I said. The thick fabric felt safe and reassuring on my skin, like a coat of armour. It helped keep all the pain inside.

  * * *

  Inside the family court, the air-conditioning whirred above our heads.

  People stared as I walked through the corridors with Audrey and I wondered if it was because they knew me. Knew everything that had happened and why we were here.

  Then I remembered the sunglasses, scarf and gloves.

  ‘This is the room where the judge will hear your case,’ Audrey said before we went inside. ‘Everyone will already be in there. Sure you’re OK and this is what you want?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, thinking about all the meetings, all the talking we’d done in the last few weeks.

  Audrey opened the door.

  I thought there would be a judge wearing a wig, a witness box and a public gallery but it was just a regular room with regular-looking people sitting in it.

  The walls were white and there were two framed prints on the wall of sailboats on water. I stood and stared at them until Audrey tapped me on the shoulder and said I should sit down.

  Joel’s family were in there and they all sat opposite me and Audrey.

  I’d seen them glance at each other when I first walked in. Dave stared with his mouth open until Steph nudged him.

  I took off the sunglasses and put them on the table in front of me but I didn’t meet their eyes.

  A woman with short grey hair and wearing a light grey suit walked in. She sat next to a man wearing navy trousers and a white shirt and striped tie.

  ‘I’m Judge Myra Stevens,’ she said, looking at me and then at Joel’s parents. ‘We’re here today to formalise custody arrangements for…’ She consulted her paperwork. ‘Kane and Harrison Hilton. Is that right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Brenda and Leonard said together as if they’d been rehearsing. Their voices rang out loud and clear in the small room.

  The judge looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered, looking down at my gloved hands.

  I listened to all that was being said in fits and starts. It was a tsunami of words, all serving to describe my chaotic life, my breakdown, my inability to care for my sons.

  I imagined a giant eraser in my head that had the power to make the worst parts of my life disappear.

  ‘Answer the judge, Darcy,’ Audrey whispered and I realised everyone was looking at me again.

  ‘I need you to state that you are in full agreement with what has been discussed here.’ The judge addresses me directly. ‘Your sons’ grandparents will assume full custody of the boys with immediate effect. This is because you are unable to care properly for your children yourself. Do you agree?’

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered.

  ‘Louder please, so the court can hear.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said loudly. ‘I agree.’

  My boys’ faces appeared in my mind. Kane was almost three years old and his hair was wiry whereas seven-year-old Harrison’s hair was as soft as silk. Their differences always amazed me. Kane loved broccoli and Harrison hated it so much he once hid some in his shoe and forgot about it and the house stunk to high heaven.

  It took us ages to find out what the stench was.

  I smiled to myself and when I looked up, I saw the judge was frowning.

  More was said then, something about monitoring the boys and the continuation of my own treatment. Truthfully, I didn’t pay much attention. I was too busy thinking about how easily some polite talking and a few signatures could take something so precious away from me so swiftly in such an ordinary room.

  ‘Well done,’ Audrey whispered, handing me the pen. ‘You’re doing the right thing for the boys.’

  * * *

  Afterwards, everyone stood up together. The chair legs scraped on the floor and hurt my ears.

  They all came over to our side of the room. Brenda’s face looked sad but up close, I saw the worry had gone and her eyes sparkled again.

  She gave me a hug but
I just left my arms hanging by my sides.

  ‘We’ll look after them while you get yourself well and can cope again,’ she said softly in my ear. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘And when you’re feeling better you can come over any time and see them.’ Leonard smiled and I thought, for the first time, how much his incisors looked sort of wolfish, just like Joel’s had.

  ‘I’ll pop over tomorrow,’ Steph said to Audrey. ‘Check how she is.’

  Then she touched my arm and walked away with Dave.

  Audrey led me outside, back into the fierce heat of the day.

  Underneath my clothes, every inch of my body felt slick with sweat and I was starting to feel a bit light-headed.

  I thought it would be all right, that I’d done the right thing. But the ball of iron in my stomach told me it wasn’t going to be all right after all.

  I peeled off the gloves and Joel’s scarf and let them drop to my feet. I threw the sunglasses on the pavement and crunched them under my boot. When I started to pull my jumper up over my head, Audrey grabbed my arms.

  ‘Not here, Darcy, not in the street. Let’s get you home.’

  I threw back my head and started to howl.

  * * *

  Much later, when it was dark outside, I woke up in a very quiet, very white room.

  There was a machine beside me with red digital figures on a screen and lots of tubes leading over to my bed.

  When I tried to move my arms, I found I could not.

  The door opened and a nurse came in. She had fair hair up in a bun and she wore a light blue uniform.

  ‘You’ve woken up,’ she said. ‘That’s good timing because the tea trolley is on its way.’

  ‘Where am I?’ I said.

  ‘You’re in Edge House Clinic,’ she said, smoothing the bed covers with the flat of her hand. ‘You’re quite safe, there’s no need to worry.’

  I’d been here before for a couple of weeks, when Joel had just died.

  Little did I know back then that this time, I wouldn’t come out again for nearly two months.

  One

  Now

  ‘Can we go on the rope bridge next, Mum?’ Harrison asks as his brother, six-year-old Kane, scoots past me towards the simulated rock-climbing face.

  ‘Yes, but wait… Slow down, Kane!’ I’m practically yelling as my ears catch the telltale wheeze on my younger son’s chest as he runs by. I draw one or two disapproving looks from nearby parents. ‘Keep an eye on your brother,’ I tell Harrison.

  He nods and runs to join his sibling.

  ‘So… have you made a decision about Saturday then?’ Steph, the boys’ auntie, cranes her head around me to watch as they both race towards the rope-climbing area. ‘If you want to come over to mine instead, it’s just an informal bring-a-bottle-type supper… just a few close girlfriends.’

  I’m slightly irked that she’s returned to the subject we were discussing before the kids interrupted us. I was daft enough to mention to her that one of the ladies who attend my yoga class had invited me out on the town on Saturday evening.

  ‘You’ll never meet anyone holed up at home all weekend,’ the woman had joked.

  Steph frowns when I relay this to her. ‘I thought you were happy it being just you and the boys right now?’

  ‘I am,’ I say quickly, suddenly finding something to root in my bag for. ‘And that’s what I told her, that I’m happily single.’

  She nods. ‘Like Dave said the other day, you don’t want to go rushing into dating again, Darcy. You’ve got the boys to consider now.’

  ‘Nice of him to worry about me,’ I say tartly, the sarcasm lost on her. I think about Steph and her long-term boyfriend, Dave, who’s been between jobs for six months now, hunched over a glass of wine discussing me. ‘I’m old enough to make my own decisions, you know.’

  ‘Fine.’ She stands up straight, squares her shoulders and folds her arms. ‘Forget the invite, OK? Subject closed.’

  My shoulders drop an inch now the conversation is moving on at last, but Steph looks downcast. I know she’s coming from a good place of caring about me and I need her onside. Maybe I was a bit sharp. I try and soften my earlier snappiness, and change the subject.

  ‘Shall we grab a coffee in the café when the kids have finished on the rope bridge? I’m parched.’

  She turns and looks at me pleadingly.

  ‘Me, Dave, Mum and Dad… we only want what’s best for you and the boys, we always have. Please remember that.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I’m fully recovered now but life is far from normal. My late husband’s family still sort of run my life, sometimes so subtly, it’s hard to explain.

  Steph is my late husband Joel’s sister and she knows everything about my life. She’s like a best friend and auntie to the boys all rolled in one. She and Brenda, Joel’s mum, were there to help me pick up the pieces after his death, when I found out the truth of who he really was. Though their support kind of backfired on me, because it became apparent very quickly that their main priority was to sweep the whole distasteful business firmly under the carpet.

  In my fragile state, suspended between grief and betrayal, they convinced me not to tell another soul about what I’d discovered.

  ‘For the boys’ sake,’ they explained. ‘That’s the only reason. You know how people gossip around here. They’ll be so affected by it, might even be bullied at school.’

  Having been at the mercy of school bullies myself for years – mainly for the crime of being poor, not having the right brand of trainers, or wearing a skirt that was slightly frayed at the hem – I found the thought of my sons suffering through no fault of their own unbearable.

  I decided back then that pushing the truth aside was a price worth paying. What did it matter now that Joel had gone, anyway? That’s what I told myself.

  But it’s been tougher than I thought. As time has passed and I’ve recovered from the breakdown, I have found it harder and harder not to talk about what happened.

  But I’ve had the boys back for ten months now and although Joel’s family watch me like a hawk, the three of us are getting on just fine.

  ‘The three musketeers’, Harrison calls our little family unit.

  Steph continues, encouraged by my silence. ‘I know you’ve always said your focus will be on the boys for the foreseeable, but—’

  ‘Ahem. What happened to subject closed? Look, I’m fine as I am, Steph. I can’t even imagine trusting another man again, so it’s just me and my boys for now.’

  She smiles then, and breathes out what sounds very much like a sigh of relief.

  To some people, learning of someone else’s stoic determination to remain single is an irresistible enigma that must be challenged. A bit like making a conscious decision not to have children. It’s an open invitation for perfect strangers to pass comment. Mere acquaintances will have no problem in bluntly asking what led to you making such a decision, and may even follow up by trying to change your mind. But that’s certainly not a problem I have with Joel’s family.

  I take out my phone and idly check my emails and immediately wish I hadn’t.

  ‘Oh, great. That’s all I need!’

  ‘What is it?’ Steph cranes her neck to look over at the screen.

  ‘Email from the lettings company.’ I hand her my phone so she can read the short message. ‘The landlord is selling our house.’

  ‘It says here there might be no impact on your tenancy though.’ Steph hands me the phone back. ‘Sometimes the new buyer wants to keep existing tenants on, don’t they?’

  ‘I suppose.’ I frown, dropping the phone back into my handbag. ‘It’s a worry though until they confirm it. It could mean moving in the new year. Nightmare.’

  ‘Oh well, it could take months to sell it. Worst case scenario, there’s a spare room at ours… and several at Mum and Dad’s,’ she says lightly.

  Like I said, nightmare, I grumble silently to myself. I’m trying to
get a bit more space from Joel’s family, not become more enmeshed.

  Just as Steph opens her mouth to say something, sounds of collective alarm carry on the air. It sounds a bit like a football crowd’s roar of disappointment, heard from a distance. Frantic shouting from the region of the rope bridge quickly follows, and grabs our attention. My worries about our house being sold are instantly forgotten as our heads jerk this way and that, and we frown at each other, trying to work out what’s happening.

  Without speaking, we start to walk quickly towards the area, our eyes searching out the boys. A staff member rushes by us, her lanyard thrashing in front of her chest.

  ‘A little boy is having an asthma attack in the climbing area!’ she shouts over to another uniformed figure up ahead. ‘Ambulance is on its way.’

  ‘Kane!’ I hear myself say faintly.

  Steph and I both start to run towards the area where we know Kane and Harrison are playing. I’m frantic, pushing through the crowd of onlookers, ducking my head this way and that, desperately trying to get a better view of the small figure on the ground.