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If she couldn’t heal herself, then she could at least heal someone else. That was why she had been attracted to Neil—he hadn’t needed healing, he was whole in himself, he didn’t suffer the pain and sadness of the world, he just got on with his life.
She had spent the thirty years since the murders creating a life. It wasn’t a real life, it was the simulacrum of one, but it worked. Her real life had been left behind in that other, golden field. And then she had the baby and her love for him breathed life into the simulacrum and it became genuine. Her love for the baby was immense, bigger than the entire universe. Fierce.
She was police and he used to be. There was a chasm between them now that could never be bridged because he could never tell her the truth. She was always going to be in his past, never in his future.
Tessa didn’t get everything. The sale of his French house was delayed and the money came into his account just before Christmas. It wasn’t the kind of sum you turned your nose up at, so “yet again you fall on your feet,” Josie said.
