The Accident. C.L. Taylor

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The Accident - C.L. Taylor


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       Chapter 9

       Saturday 21st October 1990

       Chapter 10

       Tuesday 24th October 1990

       Chapter 11

       Saturday 18th November 1990

       Chapter 12

       Sunday 17th December 1990

       Chapter 13

       Wednesday 20th December 1990

       Chapter 14

       Saturday 4th January 1991

       Chapter 15

       Chapter 16

       Sunday 1st April 1991

       Chapter 17

       Saturday 7th April 1991

       Chapter 18

       Thursday 31st May 1991

       Chapter 19

       Friday 8th June 1991

       Chapter 20

       Wednesday 27th June 1991

       Chapter 21

       Thursday 21st May 1992

       Chapter 22

       Wednesday 12th August 1992

       Chapter 23

       Friday 23rd October 1992

       Chapter 24

       Chapter 25

       Chapter 26

       Chapter 27

       Chapter 28

       Chapter 29

       Chapter 30

       Chapter 31

       Chapter 32

       Chapter 33

       Acknowledgements

       Read on for an extract of Strangers

       Book club questions for The Accident by C.L. Taylor

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       About the Author

       Also by same author

       About the Publisher

       Chapter 1

      22nd April 2012

      Coma. There’s something innocuous about the word, soothing almost in the way it conjures up the image of a dreamless sleep. Only Charlotte doesn’t look as though she’s sleeping to me. There’s no soft heaviness to her closed eyelids. No curled fist pressed up against her temple. No warm breath escaping from her slightly parted lips. There is nothing peaceful at all about the way her body lies, prostrate, on the duvet-less bed, a clear tracheostomy tube snaking its way out of her neck, her chest polka-dotted with multicoloured electrodes.

      The heart monitor in the corner of the room bleep-bleep-bleeps, marking the passage of time like a medical metronome and I close my eyes. If I concentrate hard enough I can transform the unnatural chirping into the reassuring tick-tick-tick of the grandfather clock in our living room. Fifteen years fall away in an instant and I am twenty-eight again, cradling baby Charlotte to my shoulder, her slumbering face pressed into the nook of my neck, her tiny heart out-beating mine, even in sleep. Back then it was so much easier to keep her safe.

      ‘Sue?’ There is a hand on my shoulder, heavy, dragging me back into the stark hospital room and my arms are empty again, save the handbag I clutch to my chest. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

      I shake my head then instantly change my mind. ‘Actually, yes.’ I open my eyes. ‘Do you know what else would be nice?’

      Brian shakes his head.

      ‘One of those lovely teacakes from M&S.’

      My husband looks confused. ‘I don’t think they sell them in the canteen.’

      ‘Oh.’ I look away, feigning disappointment and instantly hate myself. It isn’t in my nature to be manipulative. At least I don’t think it is. There’s a lot I don’t know any more.

      ‘It’s okay.’ There’s


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