Breaking Point Read Online Free PDF Page B

bad old days.’
    ‘I never thought they were that bad.’
    ‘Always on my bloody guard, knowing you’d be analysing everything I said, watching everything I did. The forensic scientist who couldn’t turn it off and was always looking for clues. Even in his own bloody home.’
    ‘Some would say with good reason.’
    ‘Well that was then and this is now. All I’m saying is you should switch it off from time to time.’
    Reuben tried some of his drink. It wasn’t as bad as he had imagined. A bit too fruity, but otherwise drinkable. He glanced at Lucy. Her cheeks were rouged, her eyes wide, her mouth held in a pout. It was terrific seeing her angry.
    After a few moments he said, ‘Sorry. Bad habit.’
    Lucy blew some air out of the corner of her mouth and muttered, ‘It’s OK.’
    ‘So where is Shaun?’
    Lucy sighed. ‘New York, one of our partner law firms. They’re working him to death by the sound of it.’
    ‘How long?’
    ‘He’s giving it three months.’ She tucked a strand of her dark bob behind her ear and stared into her wine, swirling it thoughtfully. ‘We’ve agreed that Joshua and I will be out by the time he returns.’
    Reuben looked over at her intently, monitoring her body language. The man who had taken Lucy from him was now asking her to leave. And Reuben had a good idea why.
    ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said quietly.
    Lucy arched her eyebrows at him.
    ‘No, really. Things move on. I don’t want to see you unhappy, or my son outside a stable relationship.’
    Lucy visibly softened, her features standing down, at ease. ‘That must have taken guts, after all that’s happened.’
    Reuben grunted, suppressing the memories, squeezing the anger tight in his belly.
    ‘I don’t know if I could have been so forgiving if the tables had been turned.’
    ‘So, where are you going to go?’
    ‘Home. The old house.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘The tenants are moving out. No point renting somewhere when I can simply move back into our home.’
    ‘Your home.’
    ‘You know what I mean.’
    ‘Sounds good.’ It was all Reuben could do to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
    Lucy was quiet for a few seconds, and Reuben watched her. She was building up to something difficult.
    ‘Look, the reason I asked you round is that he’s getting older, starting to notice things. He’s nearly two now. A boy needs a father.’
    ‘It was never my intention that he wouldn’t have one.’ Reuben couldn’t help himself. It had just rushed out. He cursed under his breath. Being magnanimous was OK in short stretches, but was a fucker to keep up.
    ‘Look, I’m trying to say something good here. Something constructive.’ Her eyes. Her pale blue eyes with the dark edges that sucked you in, even from across the room. Fighting the accusation, trying to maintain the peace. ‘I just think that maybe you should spend some more time with him. Take him out a bit more often.’
    Reuben tried not to appear too keen. ‘How often?’
    ‘You know, two or three times a week.’
    Reuben took another slug, finishing the wine, swallowing it down, his heart racing. Two or three times a week. He did his best not to let it show.
    ‘OK,’ he said, ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

8
    THE NORTHERN LINE was heaving. People everywhere, forced into every nook and cranny, desperately trying not to touch one another as the train lurched between stations. The lucky ones were seated; the rest were standing and gripping metal bars warm from the heat of previous hands.
    Judith Meadows considered herself fortunate. Only recently had she become pregnant enough to be consistently offered a seat. She had passed the halfway house, that limbo where men glanced uncertainly at her, scared of misdiagnosing a flabby stomach or a bloated belly. But now, the size and shape of her bulge – a small football protruding above her waist – was unmistakable, and Judith rarely went without a seat on the way home from GeneCrime.
    The pub had been sour, a