Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd The News Building 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by Preface Publishing 2008
This edition published by Harper 2017
Copyright © Kimberley Chambers 2008
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2017 Cover photographs © plainpicture/Forster-Martin (woman); Shutterstock.com (background).
Kimberley Chambers asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9781848090316
Ebook Edition © January 2017 ISBN: 9780008228590
Version: 2016-12-02
In loving memory of my wonderful parents, Val and Tom.
So sad that you never lived to see me make something of myself, but I hope I’ve done you both proud.
Her father’s adoration
was clear for all to see
His job was to protect her
wherever he may be
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Kimberley Chambers
About the Publisher
October 1999
MICHELLE KEANE TOOK a large gulp of wine and for what seemed like the hundredth time, glanced at the clock on the living-room wall. Two a.m. and the no-good fucker still wasn’t home. She wouldn’t have minded if he’d have rung her with one of his cock and bull excuses, but tonight he hadn’t even had the audacity to do that. She knew he was at it, she’d known for a while. He was a clever bastard, though, and proving it wasn’t going to be easy.
As she lay in bed unable to sleep, Billie Jo wondered where her dad was. He wasn’t home yet and she worried about him when he was late. Starving hungry, she toyed with the idea of going downstairs to make a sandwich. Remembering her mum was pissed and on the warpath, she decided she’d rather starve.
Whenever her dad was late home, Billie avoided her mother like the plague. It was the same old story every time. Firstly, her mum would sit clock watching and drinking wine by the gallon. The Patsy Cline CD was the next part of the ritual. ‘Crazy’ was her mum’s favourite song. Problem was, she had an awful voice and to say she murdered it was being polite. At the end of the song, her mum would burst into tears and blame Billie Jo for everything bad that had ever happened in her life.
‘If it hadn’t been for you, I’d still have my nice figure. Size ten I was when I met your dad. He’s only out whoring now ’cause I’ve put on weight and he doesn’t