Two Years After, Friends Who Lie & No More Secrets
Female Protagonist Collection
Paul J. Teague
Contents
Also by Paul J. Teague
Two Years After
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
Epilogue
Author Notes
Friends Who Lie
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
Epilogue
Author Notes
No More Secrets
Part I
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Part II
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
Epilogue
So Many Lies preview
Also by Paul J. Teague
About the Author
Also by Paul J. Teague
Don’t Tell Meg Trilogy
Book 1 - Don’t Tell Meg - read it here
Book 2 - The Murder Place - read it here
Book 3 - The Forgotten Children - read it here
Standalone Thrillers
Dead of Night - read it here
One Last Chance - read it here
No More Secrets - read it here
So Many Lies - read it here
Two Years After - read it here
Friends Who Lie - read it here
Paul J.Teague & Adam Nicholls
Now You See Her - read it here
Morecambe Bay Trilogy
Book 1 - Left For Dead - read it here
Book 2 - Circle of Lies - read it here
Book 3 - Truth Be Told - read it here
Two Years After
Prologue
London – February 2017, 23:17
Rosie watched the first drop of blood splash onto the shattered windscreen below her. It appeared to be making the journey in slow motion, but she knew that was just an illusion, caused by the impact of the crash. In her barely conscious state, it seemed surreal. Half an hour earlier they’d been enjoying canapés and laughing at David Willis’ new goatee beard. At his age, he ought to know better.
Liam was still, completely still. She couldn’t even hear his breathing. Her arms were numb; she tried to reach over to him, to touch him, to check if he was still alive, but she couldn’t find the strength. The engine was still running, the lights dipped but still shining out ahead of them. She could see grass, a fence and a tree. That’s what must have caused the startling jolt which jarred her neck.
Why was nobody coming to help them? Why was it taking so long for help to arrive? Didn’t they know about the babies? Were they still safe inside her?
She could feel the pressure of the seat belt pushing hard into the bump in her stomach. Please let the babies be okay.
As Rosie struggled to stay awake for Liam’s sake, she tried to recall the lovely evening they’d just had, running through the events in sequence, forcing her mind to focus. She had to be awake when help arrived. She needed to tell them that Liam was AB negative, the rarest blood type. It would be a problem. Those vital seconds would count. She had to stay awake, not only for Liam’s sake but also for the babies.
It had been such a happy gathering, the perfect ending before her maternity leave and a wonderful send-off for Gina. And David’s promise to her was the icing on the cake.
Rosie forced herself to recount what had happened, in the precise order that it occurred. If she could do that, it meant she was still alive, and that her body was working well enough for her to get through this. She could hear a siren far off in the distance; was it for them?
She’d already had her own leaving party, but with Gina Saloman finally off on her travels, Rosie couldn’t resist showing her face, even though she was thirty-four weeks pregnant and feeling very heavy with it. It was the source of many jokes from the guys in the sales team, but she didn’t care.
Having twins was the best news they could have had, after trying so long. They deserved this. She’d even managed to drag Liam along to the party with her, which in itself warranted a herald of bugles. He was always a quiet one, Liam. But she loved him, and when they were together, he emerged from his shell, bright, funny and confident.
The siren was coming closer. The blood was dripping faster. Drip – drip – drip, an annoying interruption to her thoughts. It was coming from Liam, but she couldn’t see his injury.
‘Liam… Liam. Can you hear me? Try to move if you can. They’re coming. The ambulance is coming. They’ll get us out of here. The babies will be fine.’
Rosie felt herself drifting again. She forced herself back into awareness; she needed to stay awake. If she let herself fade, she couldn’t help Liam, and she was no use to him if she passed out. The pain was so bad that all she wanted to do was melt away from it. A few more minutes, stay with Liam just a few more minutes. Make sure the babies aren’t hurt.
She’d been jealous of Gina Saloman at first, leaving work like that, with only a rucksack, her laptop and a dream. Heading for Spain, setting up her own nomadic business, hoping to leave the workplace for good. Gina’s future life would be everything that Rosie’s wouldn’t be. She was about to lose her freedom, but it was what she and Liam had chosen. When they’d discovered it was twins, they couldn’t have been more ecstatic. An entire family at one sitting. The doctors had said that might happen with fertility drugs.
Gina had been a popular member of the team at Willis Supplies Ltd, so it had been a
good turnout for her leaving do. They were all there, helping themselves to the free booze amid a tirade of sexist and tasteless jokes from the sales guys, as if equal rights and workplace rules had never happened. David had laid on quite a spread. He liked Gina; everybody knew that. She’d be a big loss to the business.
She could see the flashing of blue lights and a glimpse of a red fire engine. Thank God. They’d get the two of them – no, the four of them – out of that crumpled wreck and into a hospital. And what about that man who was walking on the pavement? Where was he? Was he the person who alerted the emergency services?
They would stop Liam’s bleeding. The blood bank would have his blood type and he’d be saved. Then the doctors would check the babies and give them the all-clear. They’d get through this. If she could only stay awake, they’d make it out, she was certain.
Gina. Think of Gina’s party. Stay awake.
There had been so much happiness at the leaving event, and she couldn’t recall when she’d last seen everybody having such a good time. It had been a masterstroke loading up with party poppers, cardboard hats, blowers and even a piñata. She’d thought she was going into labour when she saw how Terry Fincham had sabotaged the piñata; he’d replaced the candy with a selection of sex aids.
There had been gasps of astonishment as a small vibrator, a packet of exotic condoms, a vibrating ring and a hostile-looking butt plug had tumbled to the ground, accompanied by a tube of Smarties and a Mars Bar. Terry knew how to get a party going. After the gasps of shock had turned into laughter, the Prosecco came out, and they were away: raucous laughter, filthy jokes and office banter.
Was Liam drunk? She couldn’t remember. Would they find he was over the limit? Surely they’d save him first and breathalyse him later. They wouldn’t waste time, considering his injuries. Or could they tell from his blood? She didn’t know. She’d never been in a car accident before.
At the sound of voices, Rosie wanted to cry with relief. At last she could pass over the responsibility for Liam to someone else. She didn’t have to be the strong one for all of them – the firefighters would take the strain.
There was a female voice; she hadn’t expected that.
‘Does it hurt? Are you okay? What about your partner? Is he your husband?’
Rosie felt herself drifting again. Why was her rescuer upside down? No, she and Liam were upside down – the car had flipped. The firefighter was speaking to her through the shattered window to her side.
‘We’re going to have to cut you out, my love. You’re safe now, we’ve got you. Try to hang on a little longer. We’ll get you out, don’t worry.’
A few minutes more, that’s all she needed to manage. Then she could sleep. They’d pack her off in an ambulance, give her something for the pain, and congratulate her on the babies. She’d wake up hours later, and it would all be fine. And Liam would be conscious. They’d stitch up his cuts. The blood was beginning to pool now; they’d need to attend to that straight away.
David Willis had offered her a promotion at the party. It couldn’t have come at a better time.
‘Of course, it stands for when you’re back from maternity leave,’ he’d told her with a smile. ‘Come back to the office whenever you’re ready, and when you do, you can have that corner office. It’s yours, Rosie. Just make sure you don’t get too caught up with the twins and decide never to come back to work again.’
‘We can’t afford to do that.’ She’d laughed. ‘A small terraced house in London costs a fortune. Liam and I will be working until we’re a hundred years old before we get it paid off.’
The extra money would certainly make life easier when she returned to the office.
‘We’re cutting your husband out first.’
It was a male voice, deep and confident.
‘Stay with us, my darling. You’ll hear a horrible noise in a moment, but it’s just the cutters. They won’t hurt you. I’ll be with you all the time.’
The woman was still there. Rosie could see her face, peering through the hole where the glass had been.
As the noise of the cutters filled her ears, Rosie became aware of more people moving around outside, talking urgently. A blinding light shone from lamps trained on the vehicle. She couldn’t move her head to get a good look at Liam. The air was filled with the violent sounds of creaking and grinding metal as part of the roof was wrenched back and they cut through the pillars to his front and side.
‘He’s AB negative,’ Rosie said, but she couldn’t make herself heard.
‘She’s pregnant.’
‘Jesus Christ.’
There were worried mutterings outside.
‘Let the ambulance team know and make sure the hospital is clear about what’s coming in.’
‘Heavily pregnant too,’ came the woman’s voice. ‘About to pop, if you ask me.’
Rosie had forgotten to mention the babies. She assumed everybody knew, just by looking at her. She’d been so worried about Liam that she’d forgotten about herself.
Outside the car, the voices were sounding more concerned.
‘We need to move over to the woman’s side. She’s the priority.’
‘We’re going to be cutting close to your head, my darling,’ said the woman. ‘Try to blank out the sound. Close your eyes too; it will protect you from any broken glass.’
A hand came through the shattered screen and squeezed her arm. It was warm and reassuring, the female firefighter reaching out as best as she could before the cutting began. She was making sure the children were okay.
‘It won’t be long – we’ll have you and the baby out in no time,’ she said.
‘Babies.’ Rosie replied. ‘It’s babies.’
The cutting began, and she closed her eyes, remembering Gina’s beaming face as they sent her off on her adventures.
That’ll be us soon, she’d thought to herself. Me and Liam. We’ll have smiling faces like that, and people will be happy for us too.
Rosie was aware of Liam being manoeuvred out of his seat to her side. She couldn’t turn to look because her neck was in so much pain. She also heard more concerned voices. Something about a pedestrian.
Why wasn’t Liam helping them? Why did they have to pull him like that? She willed him on silently. Help them, Liam, help them get you out.
‘Just a couple more minutes,’ the female voice said in a soothing voice. ‘We’ve got an ambulance team on standby; you and your baby will be in safe hands in no time.’
‘Babies,’ Rosie insisted again, frustrated that she couldn’t make herself heard. ‘Babies.’
As the heavy cutters tore through the metal structure to her side, she suddenly realised. The babies. They’d been lively all evening, as if they couldn’t wait to get out into the world and start their lives. But ever since the crash, she hadn’t felt them moving. They were completely still.
Trinity Heights Psychiatric Hospital – May 2018, 21:48
Rosie sensed Vera Philpot was checking up on her, but as she drifted in and out of consciousness, it was hard to follow what was happening and where Vera was in the room.
This drug regime was exactly what she wanted; it shut down her mind, blanked her thoughts and rendered her body useless. She could lie there, all day and night, barely aware of the passage of time. With Sam a ward of court and in the care of her father, and the inquests and funerals out of the way, she could abdicate all responsibility. The culmination of it all was sweet relief when it came: a bungled attempt at suicide at the flyover, being sectioned in Trinity Heights and a cocktail of drugs which dulled the pain.
Every shred of dignity was gone. The woman she was, the responsibility she’d managed, the salary she’d commanded – none of it mattered. Her world was broken. All there was to look forward to was the paradise of oblivion and the feeling that she didn’t have to do anything. Everything was taken care of.
The money, the baby and the job could all wait. First, she had to get her head straight.
Ver
a was the perfect nurse to have on the ward. She was gentle, reassuring and kind. She reminded Rosie of her mum. How she still missed her. She’d have known what to do. Vera had made her feel more confident that she wouldn’t try to jump again. She’d convinced her she had to hang on for Sam’s sake; he needed to know his mother. But Vera also made the agony slip away. It was she who brought the pills, arriving like an angel to make Rosie forget.
‘I’m just going to throw out these flowers that your dad brought. They’ve all wilted. I’ll be back soon.’
Rosie couldn’t even remember her father visiting. Had he come with Sam?
‘Back again! Here are your clothes from the laundry. I’ll hang them on your chair. Maybe you can try to put them in the wardrobe later?’
Two Years After ; Friends Who Lie ; No More Secrets Page 1
