Free-Falling Read Online Free PDF

church’s stained-glass windows. By comparison, Belinda had felt dowdy in her knee-length grey skirt and flat sandals, bits of her own hair stuck to her cheeks with tears. And then there was Belinda’s family, doing their best to look formal for the occasion but unable to hide their country roots. Her little brothers holding their hats respectfully to their chests, her sister in a dress for perhaps only the second time in her life, and her mum’s hair combed back and plaited in an effort to control her unruly curls. The sight of her dad’s boots – normally caked with mud, now carefully shined up for the day – had made Belinda cry almost as much as the sight of Andy’s casket.
    Then Evelyn had made her speech. And Belinda had felt as though someone had whacked her hard in the stomach. She’d wanted to reach for Andy’s hand, but it wasn’t there to hold.
    Wow, look how close I came to having that bitch of a woman as my mother-in-law. Imagine how bad— Belinda stopped herself mid-thought as another wave of guilt washed over her. Excuse me, but did I just feel relief that my fiancé is dead because it saved me from being related to an unpleasant family member? I am seriously not a good person. I’m sorry, Andy, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
    She was rescued from her self-torment by Stacey’s brisk voice. ‘Look, there was a logical reason you went on a self-destructive rampage the day after Andrew’s death and I believe Google can help us to understand why.’ She paused to study the search results and then triumphantly clicked on the first link. ‘Aha, here’s the info I was after. Now we can begin to understand why you’ve been behaving like such a raving nutcase.’
    â€˜Jesus Christ, Stacey!’ Belinda shook her head at her friend’s extraordinary lack of tact. ‘I think we’re going to need some drinks,’ she added, thankful for the excuse. She headed into the kitchen and straight for the hard stuff. The drinks would help to numb the pain again, would fill that empty feeling that was starting to become all too familiar, and maybe drown out her inner, scolding voice.
    Several hours later the two of them were sitting somewhat more comfortably on the couch – lounging back, surrounded by a collection of glasses and several different bottles of spirits. Admittedly, though, most of the empty glasses belonged to Belinda. The alcohol had taken the edge off for her and, wanting to hold herself together in front of no-nonsense Stacey, she was managing to refrain from her usual disintegration into a messy heap on the living room floor.
    On the coffee table next to the laptop lay a piece of paper with Stacey’s neat handwriting scrawled all over it. Five words had been listed and then furiously circled, underlined and surrounded by arrows pointing to theories and explanations about Belinda’s behaviour on the night after Andy’s death.
    Denial
    Anger
    Bargaining
    Depression
    Acceptance
    Stacey drained her bourbon and Coke and snatched up the paper. ‘Belinda, I believe I am ready to present you with my professional conclusion, explaining your actions on the night in question,’ she said in a mock-formal voice. She cleared her throat and held the piece of paper up in front of her friend ceremoniously. Belinda rolled her eyes, which turned out to be a bad ideabecause it made the room spin and the couch sway somewhat dangerously.
    Stacey was about to continue with her diagnosis when she was interrupted by a whimpering noise coming from the laundry. She jumped. ‘What the hell was that?’
    â€˜Oh, that’s just the puppy,’ Belinda said as she wandered (in a slightly diagonal fashion) over to the laundry door and poked her head in to check on him.
    â€˜Hang on, you got the dog back?’
    â€˜Didn’t I tell you?’ Her voice was full of innocence.
    â€˜No, you