The Ex-Wife

Amanda Ashby, Sally Rigby

Description

Don't miss the gripping new psychological thriller by Sally Rigby and Amanda Ashby!

"Dark, gripping and with a smart twist, The Ex-Wife kept me turning the pages. I thought I'd managed to guess the ending, but for once was thrilled to be wrong." Bestselling author M A Hunter

My life was perfect until she came along. Norah.

Younger, prettier and about to marry my own ex-husband, they are a walking cliché.

I hate her. I hate them both.

She’s taken everything from me – my husband, my life, my home - but I refuse to allow her to take Cassie, my beautiful daughter. That's a step too far.

Now I’ve discovered that Norah plans to have a baby of her own and that causes me no end of problems. She could destroy everything and reveal my deepest, darkest secrets.

That can never be allowed to happen.

No matter what it costs…

A brand new psychological thriller that will keep you guessing till the end! Perfect for fans of Sue Watson, Nina Manning, Shalini Boland

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Policier
• Thriller
• Mashups
• Psychological
• Women Sleuths
• Amateur Sleuth
• Traditional
• Feminist
• Siblings
• Thrillers
• Women
• Coming of Age
• Suspenso
• Nueva Zelanda
• New Zealand
• Psychological thriller
• Domestic
• Sibling
• Mother's Day
• Woman
• Psychology
• Feminism
• The Women
• City Life
• Crime
• Family Life
• Suspense
• Noir
• Fiction
• Nouvelle-Zélande

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 19 avril 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781804835043
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE EX-WIFE


SALLY RIGBY
AMANDA ASHBY
CONTENTS



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27


More from Sally Rigby and Amanda Ashby

Acknowledgments

About the Authors

Also By Sally Rigby & Amanda Ashby

The Murder List

About Boldwood Books
1
PRESENT

‘Right, time to go.’ The officer opened the door to the cell. He was young. Probably only twenty-five judging by the smooth skin and straight spine. The older officers walked differently. Like the job had beaten them down. Hardened them up. Given them a filter through which to view the world. But this one wasn’t quite there yet.
All the same, his eyes narrowed into a glare. Alice flinched. She still wasn’t used to people disliking her. After all, she’d successfully managed to get through the first forty-five years of her life without too much drama – if you didn’t count the divorce. Even then, she’d been well-mannered. She never let Cassie see her cry. Never called Mark in the middle of the night begging him to take her back.
Because I’m Alice Hargraves. Not the kind of person to make a fuss.
Yet here she was. About to go to court and be tried for a murder she didn’t commit.
It sounded like such a cliché. The lament of every person who’d ever been arrested. And maybe she’d think so as well, if she hadn’t just spent the last six months of her life locked in a cell. No bail for her. Too much of a flight risk, according to the prosecutors. She wanted to tell them she threw up on ferries and couldn’t even fly to Spain without taking sleeping tablets. But they stopped listening to her long ago.
Ever since they found the knife.
Ever since she stopped being a relatively unknown children’s book illustrator and instead became the nation’s most hated monster. The ex-wife who’d killed sweet, nurse Norah Richmond two weeks before her dream wedding.
The tabloids had already conducted the trial. This was just a formality.
It was for the best. Cassie was better off living with Mark. That way she wouldn’t be tainted by the infamy the case had created. And prison hadn’t been that bad. No more sleepless nights worrying how to pay the bills. No more fighting against the outgoing tide of her dying career. Just white walls and silence.
The same calmness spread through her now, and she almost smiled. Everything was so much easier when you accepted fate. She wanted to tell her younger self to stop trying so hard. Stop fighting reality. It was never going to bend to your will. Not in the end.
That’s why she wasn’t scared. Because she’d finally given in to the inevitable force of life, letting it do with her what it wanted.
‘I said it’s time to go,’ the officer repeated. His mouth twisted, making it obvious he didn’t appreciate her lack of panic. Remorseless. That’s how they’d described Alice in the paper.
She stood up. A cramp shot up her calf muscles from lack of movement, but she ignored it. Not enough potassium. Not enough anything, really. She gritted her teeth to ignore the pain and stepped out into the corridor.
The navy suit her lawyer had collected for her swam on her hips, and the shoulders of the jacket drooped. She had no idea how much weight she’d lost, but it wasn’t a diet she’d recommend. The officer bustled her through security and into a police car to transport her to the Liverpool Crown Court. The drive was silent as they sped along the M56, past the oil refineries of Runcorn and back into Liverpool proper.
From there she shut her eyes, not daring to look out the window in case it brought back memories. It wasn’t until the car came to a halt and she was pulled out of it that she dared peer around. Her stomach sank at the crowds of reporters and onlookers waiting for her, and she bowed her head as they led her inside and through to the court.
There were stairs. Alice counted them as she went. Eight, nine, ten.
Her shoes clipped against the concrete, the leather tight and unforgiving. As if they too were determined to take their pound of flesh. In front of her, the officer’s gait was uneven. Had he been in an accident? But the thought evaporated as the door to the court opened up.
There were people everywhere, making the low-level noise that came from repressed energy. But as soon as she stepped across the threshold, as one, they all turned to stare.
Like she was the bride.
Except she didn’t have a white dress, or a glow of happiness. She was just a middle-aged woman in an ill-fitting suit.
She scanned the room for the one face she didn’t want to see. Her daughter hadn’t spoken to Alice since the arrest, and while it had left her broken and in tears for the last six months, today she was pleased. No eighteen-year-old needed to see this. Everywhere she looked, hostile eyes stared back at her. The animosity filled the room, so thick that it pressed against her skin like heat on a summer day. God. She swayed on her feet, and another officer prodded her in the back to move. Lowering her head, she shuffled forward.
They reached the dock and the officer nodded for her to sit down, before taking his own seat next to her, as if worried she might run away. The irony scraped down her insides. Even if she could run, she had nowhere to go. She’d only ever wanted one life, with Mark and Cassie. But that was gone, and while she’d once hoped Mark might change his mind, might fall out of love with Norah, and back in love with her, that hope was no more.
Whoever killed Norah Richmond had effectively killed Alice as well.
Maudlin, she knew. But she’d had over five months to try and figure out who was behind it. Why someone would want to frame her? It was a puzzle that refused to be solved. A tangle of threads destined to stay as they were. There were no answers. Only more questions. Which was why she’d accepted what was about to happen.
Her barrister shuffled some papers. Cameron Lyle was about her age with pale blue eyes and a wool suit sleeve poking out from under his black robes. He turned and gave her a thin smile, but defeat sat around his shoulders like a mantle. She didn’t blame him. He’d tried his best to build a case, but he hadn’t been able to fight the media interest that had turned the nation into a swarm of amateur lawyers, all convinced they knew the truth.
Someone coughed, and the energy of the room shifted, causing Alice to finally raise her gaze. Once again everyone turned to the back of the court, like it was a Wimbledon match.
‘All rise for the Honourable Judge Heath.’ The bailiff’s sombre voice was followed by a scraping and shuffling of feet as the crowd stood.
Alice stood as the judge swept past, black robe trailing out behind her. A woman. Cameron said that might be a good thing. But Alice wasn’t so sure. She’d attended a same-sex school and had seen the damage girls could do to each other. It was why she’d insisted Cassie go to the local comprehensive.
Judge Heath waited until everyone seated themselves before leaning into the microphone. It hissed and then settled down as she called in the jury.
Alice watched them come in. A young woman, three middle-aged men, a couple of older women, one with a sharp haircut and the other with what looked like a wig. On they came. Twelve in all. And each of them pausing to look at her as they took their seats.
What did they see?
An insipid mother of one? Someone so beige that they’d never even notice her if she wasn’t in the courtroom? Or were they already seeing the character the media had created? A bitter woman, scorned in love and jealous of the younger, more beautiful rival who’d broken up their marriage?
Once they’d settled, the judge called for the prosecution barrister to address the jury. He was well over six feet tall, and with his black gown and wig, he seemed to fill the entire room.
‘Members of the jury, I appear for the prosecution in this trial and my learned friend Mr Lyle for the defendant, Alice Hargraves. I would like to explain to you the prosecution’s view of the case. On the sixteenth of May at ten in the evening, the police were called to North Road, Grassendale, after Norah Richmond’s body had been found by her fiancé, Mark Hargraves. As part of the investigation, the police had cause to search the house of Mrs Alice Hargraves, and during this search they found the murder weapon, a knife. This…’
Alice zoned out as he talked to the jury, arms wide, like an actor. This wasn’t about the law. This was about him putting on a show. She was just collateral damage. On and on he went. The jury stared at him, as one, like they’d been swept up by the deep, compelling baritone notes in his voice. Means and motive , Alice could almost hear them think. She had them both. Look at her. She’s inhuman. A monster. She killed someone just because she was jealous.
Finally, he lowered himself back into his chair. The room was silent, and Alice’s throat burned, like all the air had been sucked out, leaving behind only some kind of deadly gas. She was drowning in it, and once again she longed for the solitude of the white-walled cell. No more eyes on her. No more accusations. Just peace.
Soon it would all be over, and she could sink into her new life, safe from hurting the people she loved the most. Because that was the secret truth. She might not have killed Norah Richmond, but she was guilty of other things. Just as bad. This was her karma.
The judge turned to Cameron, and he stood up. At five foot eight, he seemed like a minnow compared to the prosecution. Someone coughed, and there was a shuffling noise as he opened his mouth. It’s okay , she reminded herself. I’ve accepted my fate.
Cameron stammered his way