“Martyn was— He preferred keeping me all to himself. After I was made redundant, it got worse. I’d noticed a few things, and there was an incident one night when he came home early and found me reading a magazine in the bath.”
Her mother leaned closer.
“A magazine?” she repeated. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Skye said, with a bitter-sounding laugh. “But he took offense to it. We had an argument, a glass got broken, and, well, it was scary.Hescared me. I put it down to stress or him having a bad day, but honestly? That was me making excuses, hoping it was a one-off.”
“And wasn’t it?” her mum asked.
Skye sighed deeply.
“No,” she said. “It wasn’t. He never actually hit me, but he was violent. There were plenty of occasions when he shouted and made threats. A few nights before I found out about this house being available, he dragged me upstairs, locked me in the extra room. I’d made us this special meal, and he blended it up into mush, as if it was baby food, force-fed me with a spoon. It was so awful, so humiliating. I knew then that if I didn’t get away from him, I might not be so lucky the next time. He enjoyed it. The bastard took pleasure in tormenting me.”
Her mother had gone very still.
“How long was it going on for?” she asked.
“Over a year, almost to the day.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. The words were thin, breathless. “You should’ve told me.”
“I’m telling you now.”
“But you should have told me sooner.”
Skye fell silent, caught in her mother’s unyielding gaze. The skin around her pale eyes held only the faintest lines, her barely there brows darkened with pencil, a sharp Cupid’s bow, and the faintest trace of freckles across her cheekbones. Delicate, beautiful.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” she admitted. “Not until I got confirmation on this house. Then I told Sal. I wanted at least one person to know where I was in case you needed to reach me.”
“Ihavebeen trying to reach you,” her mother said. “When I realized you’d blocked me, I didn’t know what to do. I know you’re angry with me for showing up here with Martyn, but I had no idea he was the reason you’d left. There was no one else willing to do anything. I only had his word. If I’d known…” Her expression hardened. “If I’d had even the slightest inkling of what he’d been subjecting you to…I wish you’d told me. I would’ve helped you, protected you—”
“Really?” Skye said. “You’d have believed me? Without question?”
“Of course I would.”
“That last dinner party we came to, Martyn and me, did you not notice that I barely spoke? That I barely ate?”
“I did, actually.” Her mother looked suddenly thoughtful. “I wondered if something might have happened, if perhaps you were pregnant even. When I was expecting you, those first few months were torture. I was so sick.”
Skye had heard this tale of woe before. She didn’t want to listen to it again.
“You didn’t say anything to me,” she pointed out.
“No, but I assumed if there was something to tell, then you’d tell me. I didn’t want to speak out of turn, mention theP-word in case I was wrong. That sort of thing is private, and—”
“But you’re my mum,” Skye said quietly, firmly.
“Yes.” Cassandra turned to face her. “I am, and when you become a mother, you’ll see that nothing matters more than your child.”
Skye’s throat thickened.
“How did we get here?” she murmured. “How did we stray so far apart from each other?”
The smile her mother offered was watery, a tremor runningthrough her lips as she tried to hold it steady. She began to speak, but before the words could leave her mouth, Skye’s attention was snatched elsewhere.
A dark shape moved past the window, its limp unmistakable.
Her husband, the enemy, had returned.
