One Step Closer to You Read Online Free PDF

he …’
    ‘Doesn’t he want to see me in my pilot costume?’
    ‘No, I mean yes …’ I wish I knew the right thing to say. How much should you tell a five-year-old? ‘He can’t come home, Louis.’
    ‘Where is his house? We can go and see him.’
    I shake my head.
    ‘Louis, your dad has problems,’ I repeat, adding before he can interrupt, ‘things I can’t explain to you, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.’
    *
    Later that night, I sit down on my rocking chair in the corner of my bedroom. It’s my favourite spot in the house, my thinking spot. From the window I can see the communal gardens and the larger neighbouring houses with their bay windows. Often I try to imagine what each family is like behind closed doors.
    As I rock back and forth, I vow that one day, when Louis is old enough, I will tell him the truth about his father. I feel guilty that I’m raising him as a single mum, but at the sametime, if Matthew never showed up again I’d be relieved. Finally I’ve reached the stage where I don’t look over my shoulder all the time; I feel safe at night. I’m lonely, but then everyone gets lonely, right? But at last I sleep without worrying about creaks and night-time noises. I don’t have nightmares that he might be outside, watching us.
    I don’t blame anyone for the choices I made. I had to fix myself. I’ve made a start, and want nothing and no one to threaten the life Louis and I now have.
    But I can’t stop Louis from asking questions.
    My parents kept too many secrets. I can see my mother now, buttoning up her lips whenever I asked anything personal. She kept my Aunt Vivienne a secret for years.
    When the right time comes, I will tell Louis about my past and what has led us here.

5
1991
    It’s Sunday, the day before Hugo goes to a special boarding school for the blind. Hugo is seven. I’m nearly eleven years old.
    Hugo and I walk down to the boathouse with Dad, dressed in our bright yellow life jackets. Dad is going to take us out in the boat before lunch. Mum is cooking a special good-luck meal: roast chicken with oven chips, Hugo’s favourite.
    We live in Norfolk, in a house by a river and lake. We moved here six months ago, to be close to his school. I was sad to leave London, but Mum and Dad reassured me that London isn’t going anywhere and that I can always visit my old friends. ‘Dad has a new job in Norwich,’ Mum explained. He works in an insurance company. ‘It’s a fresh start for all of us.’
    When Mum and Dad drove Hugo and me to our new home for the first time I felt carsick as we bumped along a narrowwinding road. ‘Are we nearly there?’ I kept on asking. Our house was in the middle of nowhere! Granny Sue wondered why we’d wanted to live so far out in the sticks, but Mum and Dad fell in love with the house and were keen for us to have a garden to play in and room to explore.
    Except Mum is always worried when we go outside to play. ‘Don’t play in the woods, there might be adders,’ she says. Or it’s, ‘Don’t go too near the water, you might fall in and drown.’
    As we approach the old boathouse I breathe in the smell of bracken and seaweedy water. Dad helps Hugo onto the boat. It’s old, wooden and rocks gently from side to side when Hugo clambers in. I follow and Dad asks me to be a good girl and fix one of the oars into the rowlock. When we’re ready, Dad uses one oar to push us out of the boathouse and into the open space.
    Hugo always looks so happy when he’s out on the water. He stretches his podgy arms, the sun beating down on his round dimpled face. I lean over the boat, trail my fingers in the water. Hugo copies me.
    ‘You know what Mum says, Hugo,’ I tease. ‘There might be huge pike and we all know pike have very sharp teeth.’ Hugo sits up straight, puts his hands on his lap.
    ‘We’re nearly at the sunken boat now,’ I tell him.
    ‘How did it sink, Papa?’ he asks.
    It doesn’t matter how many times we’ve heard