After I’m Gone by Clare Boyd EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Clare Boyd
- Language: English
- Genre: Women’s Crime Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.9 MB
- Price: Free
I’m not a mother, but sometimes I feel like one when I’m trying to fix my
husband.
‘They’re going to love it,’ I say, straightening the pillows behind my
head. In truth, how the hell would I know? I just want him to feel good,
boost his confidence. Isn’t that what mothers do? Make their children feel
better, lie to them, hold their hands through the tough times? Tell them it’s
all going to be okay.
Olly shuts his Kindle and twists onto his side, propping his head up
under the heel of his hand. ‘But we’ve been waiting almost a month.’
‘No news doesn’t mean bad news!’
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He flops back down, draping his arm across his forehead, blowing out.
‘It’s going to be turned down by everyone in London, just like my others.’
‘It’s not. Because you’re brilliant.’ Another maternal lie. It’ll probably
be turned down by most.
He side-eyes me a fraction. ‘Okay, so what if you’re right and it is
picked up by someone?’
‘But that’s exactly what you want!’
The worry lines on his forehead bunch up. ‘You’re still okay about it?’
My heart speeds up. ‘Yes. I’ve told you I am.’
Olly’s book is about a woman who doesn’t want to be a mother. His
main character is called Ellie. Her name sounds a bit like mine. Ellie.
Emily. Ellie. Emily.
Ellie isn’t me. But she is. No bones about it. And I’m okay about it.
More than okay.
‘I’m just quadruple-checking,’ he says. His skin has a worn-out colour
to it, a bit like the weathered pages of a paperback. His sandy hair is
flattened on one side and sticks out like straw on the other, but his eyes are
blinking an open-water blue under his thatched eyebrows. ‘It’s not too late
for Rach to pull the plug.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ I remain stubbornly upbeat. No lie, I want the
book he’s toiled over for two years and had big dreams about to be
published. It’s like his baby. ‘I can totally picture it as a real book on the
shelves. This one’s different.’
‘That’s nice.’ He grins. ‘I tell you the one person who needs to read it.’
‘Who?’
‘Charlotte.’
‘Sister Charlotte or friend Charlotte?’
‘Your sister. I know you love her and everything, but maybe she’ll
finally understand why we don’t want kids.’
‘Yeah, totally,’ I say, which sounds convincing, I think.
‘It needs to be said.’
‘I agree.’ There’s a sharp ringing in my ears. It goes before I can worry
about it.
Olly slips a hand behind my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. My return
kiss isn’t too encouraging; I prefer the idea of reading to sex tonight. He
returns to his book, allowing me to re-engage with the script I’m looking
over for work. It’s impossible to focus now. The brilliantly funny scenes
swim about. I stare at the page until Olly switches his bedside light off and
mumbles a contented goodnight.
Soon afterwards, I slip the pages back into the envelope, let my hair out
from its permanent inch-thick ponytail and position my blackout eye mask
onto my face. The night-time sounds of Kentish Town are drowned out by
the blood rushing through my head.
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