My Husband's Wife

Prologue

Flash of metal.

Thunder in my ears.

‘This is the five o’clock news.’

The radio, chirping merrily from the pine dresser laden with photographs (holidays, graduation, wedding); a pretty blue and pink plate; a quarter bottle of Jack Daniel’s, partially hidden by a birthday card.

My head is killing me. My right wrist as well. The pain in my chest is scary. So, too, is the blood.

I slump to the floor, soothed by the cold of the black slate. And I shake.

Above me, on the wall, is a white house in Italy, studded with purple bougainvillea. A honeymoon memento.

Can a marriage end in murder? Even if it’s already dead?

That painting will be the last thing I see. But in my mind, I am reliving my life.

So it’s true what they say about dying. The past comes back to go with you.

THE DAILY TELEGRAPH Tuesday 20 October 2015

The artist Ed Macdonald has been found stabbed to death in his home. It is thought that…