The Judas Scar Read Online Free PDF Page A

Harmony felt a warm glow as she watched him. She liked to see him taking photographs, filled up with enthusiasm, lit from within.
    By two o’clock she was shattered. The number of guests had dwindled, but those who remained were opening more wine or tipping shots back or dancing in happy, sweaty groups, and all looked set to see in the dawn. She found Will chatting to a couple she didn’t recognise.
    ‘Do you mind if we go soon?’ she whispered, leaning close to him. ‘I’m tired and we’ve got to drive back to London.’
    ‘Of course,’ he said, excusing himself from the couple who wandered off hand in hand towards the dance floor. ‘I’m ready to go too. Have you said goodbye to Emma and Ian?’
    ‘No, Em’s having far too much fun dancing. I had a quick look for Ian but can’t see him.’
    ‘He’s extremely drunk. Last time I saw him he was clutching a bottle of vodka and stumbling off into the undergrowth with only one shoe on.’
    ‘Let’s slip away. I’ll phone Emma in the morning.’
    There were a few people waiting in the hallway for taxis, putting coats on or standing patiently, eyes tired and heavy with drink. Harmony and Will walked out of the door and down the steps. She noticed the rose petals now crushed into the stone in dirty smears. Most of the flares that lined the driveway had burned down, the low blue flames of those that soldiered on licking sporadically at the darkness as they clung to life.
    Within moments of being in the car Will fell asleep. His head lolled forward, and every now and then he made soft snoring noises, like a snuffling pig. Despite the time and the soporific hum of the engine, she was wide awake, her mind buzzing, flitting between Will’s look of shock when she mentioned a baby and the man she’d met. There had been something about him, a powerful sexuality – not the bravado of a self-styled Casanova, but something rawer, more innate. As she drove along the M4, passing only the occasional car or lorry, once again she recalled him asking her to leave with him. She’d been with Will since she was twenty, and it was the first time since then she’d felt any type of sexual connection with another man. It was a breath of fresh air to have her mind occupied with such frivolity; there’d been too much sadness and soul-searching over the past few months. She put her hand instinctively against her stomach as a phantom ache took over, right in the centre of her, where her baby used to be, as if the scar left when it was torn out of her had opened up and bled again. She glanced at her husband, still asleep, head nodding with the motion of the car.
    ‘I wish you felt it,’ she said, her stomach clenching at the sound of her words against the quiet.
    ‘What?’ he said, his voice groggy.
    ‘I thought you were asleep.’
    ‘Just resting my eyes.’ He reached for her hand on the gear stick and stroked it. ‘What did you say?’
    She didn’t reply.
    ‘It’s about the baby, isn’t it?’ he said, with a slight drunken slur.
    ‘Yes, it’s about the baby. Our baby.’ As she spoke a lump of emotion caught in her throat. ‘We need to talk about it.’
    ‘I’m not sure what you want me to say.’ His feeble words hung in the air.
    Yes, said a voice in her head. I want you to say yes.Yes, you were devastated when we lost our child.Yes, you’d love me to be pregnant again.Yes, you want to be a father as much as I want to be a mother.
    But again she didn’t say anything.
    She turned off the Talgarth Road and into their street and parked in a space a little way up from their flat. She stilled the engine then swivelled in her seat to look at him.
    ‘I just …’ She faltered. ‘It’s what I said at the party. I want to try again.’
    They sat in the quiet for a minute or two. She willed him to speak but instead he got out of the car and closed his door.
    She stared ahead feeling empty, her hands clasped lightly in her lap. There was a group of girls walking down the