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PROLOGUE
The evening was perfect. Gentle waves lapped at the edge of Lac de Paladru and the fat orange sun was slowly sinking over the western bank, casting fiery shimmers over the water. She sat on a rug on the shingle beach, her pretty summer dress pulled up to her thighs, her toes dipping into the cool water.
‘God, I love this place,’ she said, tipping back her head. The sky had been clear all day – all week, in fact. Ten days ago, they’d taken a train to the coast for a couple of nights, staying in Nice, exploring Cannes and parading along the beachfront promenade, pretending to be rich and famous. They’d laughed, they’d eaten delicious food, they’d made love, drunk wine and smoked cigarettes. Then they’d travelled back up to Lyon. Home seemed about as far away as the moon right now, and she never wanted to go back.
‘Why don’t we live here forever?’ she said, taking another sip of the champagne he’d added to the picnic. How romantic, she’d thought, when he told her he’d hired a car, had bought a hamper, that they were going for a day at the lake. ‘Did you see that little wooden lodge on the way here? Something like that would be perfect. I’d swim all day, have a flower garden, have babies, haveyou. I’d be utterly content.’
He laughed. ‘You’re such a dreamer.’ He slid a hand onto her thigh. ‘And that’s what I love about you. Your innocence and ambition.’
‘Love?’ she said, turning away from the sunset and looking at him. She forked her sunglasses onto the top of her head.
He nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said solemnly. ‘I love you. I love that you believe anything is possible. I love that you see the good in everything. And that makes me see the good in you.’
She felt her insides melt. Literally. Like, everything draining away and transforming into pure bliss. Could this trip get any better? ‘I love you too,’ she said, reaching for his hand, gripping his fingers. They kissed, their lips tasting of champagne and sunshine, their hearts beating the same rhythm. ‘I feel so…sonewwith you,’ she whispered.Like a real woman, she thought. God, she didn’t want this feeling to end, never wanted to go back home. Though in reality, she knew they’d have to. He had his business for a start, and she understood how important it was to him. But for now, she intended wringing every last drop of joy from their time together. She never imagined in a million years her summer holidays would play out like this.
‘Marry me?’
At first, she wondered if she’d imagined his words, whether her mind was concocting her wildest fantasy, or if it was just the wind rustling through the tall grasses up on the bank, or perhaps someone else had uttered the words. But there was no one else around.
‘I mean it,’ he said, his lips against hers. ‘I want us to get engaged.’
CHAPTER ONE
HANNAH – NOW
‘What do you think?’ I swirl around, holding the dress in front of me.
Rob’s always so kind, so considerate of my feelings, but the slight hesitation, the flicker of doubt in his eyes, doesn’t go unnoticed.
I laugh.
‘You’re right, it’s awful.’ I put the dress back on the rail, trailing my fingers along the fabric of the others on display in the department store.
‘I didn’t say that,’ he says, grinning and slipping a hand onto the small of my back. ‘You’d look beautiful in anything.’
I make apahsound, briefly resting my head on his shoulder. ‘How about this one?’
He takes it, holding it against me. ‘Better,’ he says. ‘The colour brings out your eyes.’
‘I’ll try it on,’ I say, though I’m not sure about the sequins. ‘Too fancy?’
‘It’s a fancy do,’ Rob reminds me. ‘Belle’s eighteenth birthday partyanda homecoming.’ He takes a little black dress off the rail and adds it to the collection I’m holding.
It’s one of the reasons I love Rob with all my heart and beyond – the way he treats Belle, his stepdaughter, as his own. In all the years we’ve been together, not once has he ever acted as though she’s not his flesh and blood – even when we had Amber together, our youngest daughter. And there’s nothing ‘step’ about their sisterhood.
While I head for the changing cubicle, Rob drops into a plush velvet chair in the waiting area. I give him a little smile as I whip the curtain closed.
‘Won’t be long,’ I call out, unbuttoning my blouse and slipping it off. I step out of my grey trousers – one of several similar pairs I wear for work – and, as ever, my eyes dart to the cover-up tattoo on my thigh as I see my legs in the mirror. A reminder of another life. A mark of all that was rotten.
I shudder. It’s not me any more. Hasn’t been for a long time.
Instead, I focus on what I’m doing – choosing a beautiful new dress to wear at Belle’s eighteenth birthday party. She has no idea we’re organising it. The secret has been easy to keep, with her being away in France the last couple of months. And as it happens, I’m good at keeping secrets.
Don’t ever tell…
I hug myself, rubbing away the goosebumps that have appeared on my arms. I’ll never be free from the thoughts, the occasional backwards glances. Instead, I tell myself they’re a reminder of how far I’ve come. Of how different my life is now with Rob, Belle and Amber – all of us happy. But my body is a constant reminder, as though it’s still not quite my own.
‘What do you think?’ I say, emerging from the cubicle.
