This is a work of non-fiction based on the author’s experiences. In order to protect privacy, names, identifying characteristics, dialogue and details have been changed or reconstructed.
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First published by HarperElement 2017
FIRST EDITION
© Casey Watson 2017
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Ebook Edition © April 2017 ISBN: 9780008142728
Version: 2017-03-06
Contents
Exclusive sneak peek: The Silent Witness
Chapter 1
It wasn’t like me to have a headache. Headaches had a very specific place in my life. They came via school holidays, chocolate and/or an excess of grandchildren, none of which currently applied. Still, the thumping going on above my head – Tyler packing upstairs, in his usual Tyler fashion – was accompanied by a definite thumping in my head, so I reached into the medicine cabinet that I kept in the kitchen cupboard and popped two paracetamol from their foil sheet.
‘Feeling sorry for yourself?’ Mike asked as he joined me in the kitchen.
‘No,’ I replied tartly. ‘I just have a headache. Must be the change in the season or something.’
He stopped pouring coffee and gave me a hug. ‘Aww – worried about being all on your lonesome, love? Is that it? But you’ll find something to occupy yourself,’ he pointed out, reasonably. ‘So stop looking so miserable. It’s only just over a week. Besides, Kieron and Lauren will no doubt be around with Dee Dee, so –’
‘I am not feeling sorry for myself,’ I said again, firmly. Though, actually, truth be known, I sort of was.
‘Yes you are. But it’s your own fault. You could have come with us.’
I made a ‘tsk’ sound, somewhat irritably, because that was true as well. Except, really? Me on a school skiing trip? In the cold?
There was no getting away from it, of course. That Mike was right – there had been nothing stopping me. It was the last week of the spring term, Easter just on the horizon, and, as Tyler, our permanent foster child, was going on the trip, it wasn’t as if I had anyone to stay home for. And with my daughter-in-law Lauren, David and their kids already en route to Cornwall as we spoke – for ten days, no less – that was doubly true. And it wasn’t as if I didn’t like snow. I loved snow. Just in the right place and time, that was all. At Christmas, and mostly on the outside.
No, it was the time of year when my thoughts turned to beaches and sunshine, and though Tyler assured me his teacher had promised plenty of the latter, the thought of donning ski gear and hefty snow boots, and generally slipping and sliding around the place, held about as much appeal for me as bungee jumping – i.e. none at all.
I still couldn’t quite believe Mike had been so keen on it. That he’d actually agreed to go along to be a helper. After all, who could he actually help? He’d skied precisely once in his life. When he was seven. Perhaps that was why my head hurt – because of the sheer incredulity of it all.
I swallowed my tablets with the glass of orange juice Mike had thoughtfully poured for me, just as the upstairs thumps and bangs resolved themselves into a resounding thud out in the hall.
‘Don’t worry!’ Tyler shouted down the stairs, getting in before I could berate him. ‘That was just my rucksack! I threw it down so I can carry my other stuff,’ he added helpfully.
I poked my head out into the hall, seeing the rucksack and feeling a little pang of something I didn’t quite like. Tyler had never been away for eight whole days before. And never so far away. ‘Not like you couldn’t have made two trips!’ I shouted back.
‘Well, that’s going to do your head a lot of good,’