Between You and Me: The bestselling psychological thriller with a twist you won’t see coming
They say every marriage has its secrets.
They say in sickness and in health …
But no one sees what happens behind closed doors.
And sometimes those doors should never be opened …
Sal and Charlie are married. They love each other. But they aren’t happy. Sal cannot leave, no matter what Charlie does – no matter how much it hurts.
A psychological thriller with a shocking twist you’ll never see coming.
Between You and Me
Lisa Hall
LISA HALL
loves words, reading and everything there is to love about books. She has dreamed of being a writer since she was a little girl – either that or a librarian - and after years of talking about it, was finally brave enough to put pen to paper (and let people actually read it). Lisa lives in a small village in Kent, surrounded by her towering TBR pile, a rather large brood of children, dogs, chickens and ponies and her long-suffering husband. She is also rather partial to eating cheese and drinking wine.
Readers can follow Lisa on Twitter @LisaHallAuthor
Contents
Acknowledgement
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Firstly, a huge thank you must go to my fantastic editor, Victoria Oundjian, whose creative brilliance helped pull this manuscript into shape, all whilst simultaneously holding my hand every step of the way.
More enormous thanks to my early readers – your input was invaluable and you have no idea how grateful I am.
Special thanks must go to Amy and Dave Jacobs, Victoria Goldman, Rebecca Raisin and Sarah Cole – without you guys it’s highly unlikely that this novel would ever have landed on the desk at Carina - your encouragement and support kept me going when it seemed like the writing would beat me.
And finally, thank you to my crazy, amazing family – Nick, George, Isabel and Oscar – thank you for supporting me, thank you for the wine and the bacon sandwiches, and thank you for putting up with my needy writer ways – I love you all more than you’ll ever know.
To Team Hall – for making me who I am.
It happened so quickly, and now there is so much blood. More than I ever thought possible. One minute, he was shoving me backwards, into the kitchen counter, the air thick with anger and words spoken in temper that could never be taken back. The next, he was on the floor, the handle of the knife protruding from his ribs. I don’t even remember picking it up, only that I had to stop him. I back away, pushing myself up against the cold, granite surface, across the room from where he lies. I feel light-headed and sick, sweat prickling along my spine. He reaches up to me with a shaky hand, slick with his own blood, and I draw back even further. He is slumped on the floor, back resting against the kitchen counter, a lock of hair falling over his brow. He is pale, a sheen of sweat shining on his forehead. A coppery, iron tang fills the air and I want to retch. Turning, I lean over the kitchen sink, where I heave and heave but nothing comes up. I wipe my mouth on a tea towel and push my shaking hands through my hair. I need to try and think calmly, rationally. I need to phone for an ambulance, and I need to get my story straight. I’ll tell them that he slipped and fell on the knife, a brutal, heavy knife usually used for carving the Christmas turkey, not carving into other people. That we weren’t arguing, just talking. It was an accident; one minute he was fine, the next he was on the floor. I’ll tell them that I didn’t see what happened – I have to protect myself. I can’t tell them that I snapped. That a red mist descended and for just a few seconds I felt like I couldn’t take it any more, the shouting, the aggression and the lies. That in just a split second all rationality left me and I grabbed the knife and thrust it firmly into my husband’s stomach.