The Family Home

by Lorraine Mace

Genres: Psychological Thrillers

Synopsis

IS BLOOD ALWAYS THICKER THAN WATER?

Sally has lived in fear of her husband long enough. But after twenty years of suffering, she has been left with nothing of her own and no one to turn to - except her estranged sister, Alison.

When Alison agrees to help Sally escape, she knows she must return to the one place she was told never to show her face again - the family home - and confront her father once more.

But soon, Sally begins to suspect that all is not as it seems, and as she is forced to face the ghosts of the past, she discovers there may be secrets hidden in her own memory that are best left buried . . .

A twisting and compulsive page-turner, with a shocking twist. If you love Keri Beevis, L H Stacey and K. L. Slater, you'll love The Family Home.

---

READERS ARE HOOKED ON LORRAINE MACE'S THRILLERS:

'⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ Menacing and twisty'

'⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ Dark, disturbing and claustrophobic'

'⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ [A] suspense-packed story full of tension . . . I did not see that twist coming at the end!'

'⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ A real unputdownable page-turner which had me totally gripped'

'⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ I didn't see that coming! What a great roller-coaster ride of a thriller'

Release date: April 25, 2024

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 320

Sample

Sally dropped the frozen peas into her trolley and re-adjusted her sunglasses. Pushing the trolley onwards, she prayed there wouldn’t be a long queue when she got to the checkout. Gordon never believed her when she told him she’d had to stand in line for more time than he thought was needed.

She picked up a sliced loaf and turned the corner of the aisle only to see her worst fear confirmed. Only two of the checkouts were manned and long queues stretched back from both of them. Which one to choose? She was sure to pick the wrong one. Heart pumping, she steered her trolley to the left and got in line behind an elderly couple. The woman glanced up and smiled. Instinctively Sally reached up to her cheek where she’d carefully applied extra make-up this morning before work. Had it worn off? Was that why the woman seemed to be staring at her?

Sally half turned and pretended to be moving the items in her trolley so that she didn’t have to make eye contact. Through a blur of tears and the darkness of her shades she lifted the bags of frozen vegetables and moved them from one spot to another.

Come on, come on, she urged silently as her queue showed no signs of moving, unlike the other one which was going forward at a rapid rate. She’d picked the wrong line. Gordon would be looking at his watch now, wondering why she was taking so long.

At long last her turn arrived. She rapidly packed the shopping and paid, almost running from the store in her haste to get to the car before Gordon got upset over how long she’d kept him waiting.

She needn’t have worried. As she approached the car, she heard Gordon laugh. It was one of his good laughs. Deep, throaty and carrying just a hint of flirtation. By the time she reached the sound, an elderly lady was looking up at Gordon as if he was her saviour.

He glanced over at Sally. ‘At last, hon,’ he said. ‘I was wondering where you’d got to. Fortunately, I was able to while away a few minutes with this lovely lady. I know you’re going to be jealous, but I couldn’t help myself.’

As he finished speaking, he lifted the last of the lady’s shopping bags from her trolley and put them into the boot of the car parked next to their hatchback.

‘I’ll just put this trolley back. Won’t be long,’ he said, then turned to grin at the elderly lady and winked. ‘As for you, try not to miss me too much.’

The lady watched him walk away before turning to Sally.

‘You’re so lucky,’ she said. ‘Your husband couldn’t have been kinder. There I was, struggling with my heavy bags and he leapt out of your car to help me. My Bert, bless his soul, even when he was young and fit, never lifted a finger to carry the bags from the car to the house, far less come shopping with me to make sure I didn’t have to do all the heavy lifting myself.’

Sally smiled. ‘He likes to help,’ she said, wishing she could tell the truth, but Gordon had charmed the woman so completely she probably wouldn’t believe it even if Sally uncovered her bruises, which she would never do.

The lady smiled as she got into her car. ‘I hope you take care of him. Good men like that are hard to find. Have a lovely weekend.’

She shut the car door and waved. Sally waited until the old lady had reversed out before opening the hatchback and picking up the first of her shopping bags, keeping a wary eye on Gordon as he walked back across the car park.

If he was in a good mood he’d help her. If he wasn’t . . . Don’t think about it, she told herself. He didn’t speak as he reached the car, opened the door on the driver’s side and got in. Sally put the last of the bags into the car, carefully closing the boot so that it didn’t slam. She wheeled the trolley over to the building and slotted it into the line of others and headed back to the car.

As she opened the door and saw his face, she knew whatever she said was going to be wrong. Maybe it was better to keep quiet.

‘Well?’ he said, holding out his hand for the credit card. ‘What kept you this time? Or should I say who? Come on, who were you talking to?’

Sally shook her head. ‘No one. There were only two checkouts open and long queues at both of them.’

He started the car. ‘You expect me to believe that? You are such a liar. Never mind, you’ll tell me the truth later. I’ll get it out of you one way or another.’

As the car moved out of the supermarket car park Sally began rehearsing in her mind what she could say to placate him. The truth wouldn’t work. He never believed her when she said she hadn’t spoken to anyone. Maybe if she pleaded stupidity, saying she’d picked up the wrong items and had to go and change them, he might accept that, or maybe she could say there hadn’t been the right coffee on the shelf and she’d had to ask one of the stackers to go and get some. No, that wouldn’t do. That would prove him right because she’d have spoken to someone. She’d go with the stupidity story.

The drive home was torture. She kept stealing glances at his face and could see how angry he was. Should she speak? No, safer to keep quiet and hope he’d come round by the time they reached the house.

Gordon turned into their drive and switched off the engine.

‘Get out,’ he said. ‘I’ll bring the shopping in. I don’t want to look at you until you’re ready to tell me the truth. Go on, get inside and wait for me.’

She climbed out of the car and walked to the house, legs trembling so much she stumbled as she reached the front door.

She heard him sigh. ‘Stupid clumsy bitch. I don’t know why I put up with you.’

Leaving the front door open for him to bring in the bags, Sally went through to the kitchen and tried to compose herself. Hearing voices, she moved over to the window and saw their neighbour, Janet, had pulled up on the adjoining drive.

‘Well, just look at you,’ Janet cooed, as she walked to stand next to Gordon. ‘If only I could get George to help bring in our shopping, but he’s probably asleep in front of the TV.’

Sally’s stomach heaved as Janet grinned and moved towards Gordon. Oh, dear God, no! she thought. Please don’t flirt with him. He’s already so angry.

Sally didn’t catch Gordon’s reply, but it must have been funny because Janet burst out laughing, moved up close, and put her hand on his arm.

‘You can come and lift my bags any time,’ she said and winked. ‘I doubt George would even notice.’

Sally could feel her heart pounding. Gordon hated women who acted like their neighbour. He said it proved that all women were whores at heart.

‘Now, Janet, you know very well I only have eyes for my lovely wife,’ Gordon said, smiling in a way that would once have melted Sally’s heart, but that now filled her with fear.

He turned away from Janet and walked towards the house, carrying two bags in each hand. Sally could see by the look on his face that tonight was going to be bad. She knew now there’d be no placating him. He had already been angry with her and now Janet had made it worse. But what had she done this time? Sally wracked her brains trying to work out what could have caused him to go from smiling at her and saying not to be too long as she climbed out of the car, to over-the-top fuming by the time she got back. It couldn’t just be the amount of time she’d taken to do the shopping. There must be something else.

She jumped as he spoke behind her.

‘Don’t stand there blocking the way. The least you could have done was pour me a drink. Why do I have to do everything around here? Isn’t it enough that I take care of you?’

He dumped the bags on the floor.

‘Well,’ he snarled, ‘aren’t you going to answer me?’

Sally panicked, not knowing which question to answer first. ‘Gordon, please, what have I done to upset you?’

‘Gordon, please,’ he mimicked. ‘What have I done? I’ll tell you what you’ve done, you cheating bitch, you’ve arranged to go out to pick up some man, that’s what you’ve done.’

She shook her head. What was he talking about? ‘I haven’t. I promise.’

He kicked at one of the bags and the shopping flew across the floor. A white haze filled the kitchen as the flour bag exploded.

‘Now look what you’ve made me do!’ he yelled.

‘I’ll clean it up,’ she said, turning to reach for the broom from behind the kitchen door.

‘Leave it!’ he snarled, pulling her back to face him. ‘When were you going to tell me about your night out?’

‘I’m not having a night out. I promise I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Oh, no, Gordon, I’m not going out,’ he said in a squeaky voice. ‘I promise! Except you’re a liar, aren’t you? Did you think you could keep it a secret from me?’

‘What?’ she begged. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t keep any secrets from you.’

‘Really? What about this?’ he said, pulling her phone from his pocket. ‘This went ping while you were in the shop, so I read the message. “See you at 7:30,” it says. Who’s it from? Who the hell is CT and why is he sending you messages about going out? When were you planning to tell me?’

Sally relaxed slightly. He might not like what she had to say, but at least she could explain this. ‘That wasn’t meant for me,’ she said. ‘One of the girls at work, Carly Tanner, has arranged a night out for everyone. She set up a WhatsApp group and put us all on it. I’ve already told her I can’t go.’

‘I see,’ he said. ‘You told her you can’t go, not that you didn’t want to go.’

‘I don’t want to go,’ Sally said. ‘That’s what I meant.’

‘It’s not what you said though, is it? You said you can’t go. You wanted to, but you told her you can’t. Why did you want to go? So you can whore around with some other man?’

She shook her head. ‘No, Gordon, you’re all I want. All I’ve ever wanted. You know that.’ She smiled and reached out to touch his arm. ‘Let’s not fight.’

He pulled his arm away and shook off her hand. Throwing her phone to the floor, he stamped on it again and again until the pieces were mixed in with the flour.

‘Now you can’t make plans to go out and whore around with your slut friends. Get this mess cleaned up.’

‘I’ll just put the shopping away and then—’

He grabbed her, his hands circling her throat as he pushed her against the wall.

‘No! Get my dinner ready. I’m starving. You’d think a man working hard all day would be able to come home and relax, but no, you have to go and spoil our weekend before it’s even started.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

He let go and looked her up and down. She could feel his eyes burning into her.

‘You always say sorry, but then you do something else that means I can’t trust you. Right now, I can’t bear to look at you. I’m going to watch the news. Call me when dinner’s ready.’

As she moved around the kitchen preparing the bolognese sauce and boiling the pasta, all Sally could think about was what had happened the last time he’d been this angry. That evening had ended with a visit to the hospital to set her broken bones. Maybe she should put the sleeping powder she’d hidden at the back of the drawer in his dinner and leave tonight instead of waiting until she’d saved enough money, but where could she go? She couldn’t contact her half-sister until Monday when she went back to work. She’d tried so hard to build up a running-away fund and Alison had offered her a temporary place to hide, but if she left tonight, without a phone she had no way of contacting her sister and nowhere near enough money even if she could get hold of her secret bank card, which she couldn’t because that was in her desk at work. Even if she could somehow get to the office, she had no way of getting in until the cleaners arrived on Monday morning.

‘That smells delicious,’ he said, coming up behind her and kissing the back of her neck, making her heart sink. ‘Are you having wine?’

She used to think Gordon being nice after he’d lost his temper meant the danger was over. She knew better now. She turned round and he waved the bottle, giving her one of his winning smiles, which disappeared when she shook her head.

‘Not tonight, thank you. I don’t fancy any.’

‘Yes you do,’ he said, moving to the table and pouring some into her glass.

She moved to the table and sat down, desperate to placate him, but couldn’t help giving a gasp of fear as Gordon reached across the table and patted her hand.

‘I’m sorry for yelling at you, Sal, but you make me so mad at times I can’t help myself. You never seem to learn, no matter how many times I put you right.’

Sally gave what she hoped was a forgiving smile.

‘Why aren’t you eating?’ he said.

Brought back to earth, she shrugged. ‘I’m not very hungry.’

‘You’re not sulking, are you?’ Gordon said, reaching out again but this time gripping her left wrist so tightly she knew there would be yet another bruise.

She picked up a fork with her right hand and moved the food around on the plate. ‘No, not sulking,’ she said.

‘Good,’ he said, letting go of her wrist. ‘Because you’ve got nothing to sulk about, have you? You’ve got a lovely home and a husband who adores you. What more could any woman want?’

Sally knew she had to head this off before it went any further.

‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I’m one of the lucky ones. Would you like more bolognese?’

Gordon smiled and nodded. ‘That’s my girl.’

Sally moved across to the sauce. Keeping a careful watch on Gordon, she thought about opening the drawer containing the bag of crushed sleeping tablets, but her hands were shaking too much. She knew she couldn’t do it without him noticing. If he found the powder, he’d go berserk.

She took his full plate back to the table and watched as he refilled her wine glass, this time to the brim. She only took tiny sips, knowing she had to keep her wits about her.

‘Do you know what that stupid bastard said to me at work today?’

Sally stayed quiet. When Gordon was in one of these moods, it was safer not to speak.

‘He thinks just because he’s my foreman he knows it all. Well, take it from me, he doesn’t know his arse from his elbow.’

He swallowed the last of the wine in his glass, looked at hers and glared.

‘Why aren’t you drinking? You know I don’t like to drink alone. Are you trying to upset me? Is that what you want? Is it?’ he said, his voice rising on each question.

Sally shook her head and picked up the glass, taking a tiny sip before putting it back down again.

‘It’s bad enough I have to work with idiots without having to live with one. Why don’t you answer me? Cat got your tongue?’

‘I was listening,’ Sally said. ‘What did Mr Peters say to you?’

‘Ah, fuck you. I don’t know why I bother telling you about my day. You’re too thick to understand what I have to put up with.’

Sally knew this would go in one of two directions. Either he was going to lash out at her, as if his bad day was her fault, or he would decide she wasn’t worth the effort of explaining how unfairly everyone treated him. She breathed a sigh of relief when he got up and staggered through to the lounge without saying anything else, leaving her to clear away the dishes.

She waited until he’d gone, then turned to the shopping bags she hadn’t had chance to unpack. Each time she moved, she hurt. She had to leave soon, but with what money?

Shaking, she put the sugar into the container and threw the empty packet in the bin. Would she have more bruises to cover up before going back to work on Monday? Weekends were always the worst. At least during the week she could get away for most of the day. She loved her job and the women she worked with, but they were beginning to shut her out because she could never join in with the events they planned.

Gordon said she couldn’t go anywhere without him because other men would be after her, but he also didn’t want to spend time with her workmates. He said they were a bunch of tarts, which was unfair. All of them were either married or in a steady relationship. Their husbands and partners often went out with them in big groups. Gordon refused though because he said he loved her so much he wanted her all to himself. What was that old Tina Turner song? What’s love got to do with it?

When she’d finished packing everything away, she went through to the lounge to find out if Gordon wanted coffee.

‘Why the fuck would I want coffee when I’ve got this?’ he said, lifting his glass in her direction.

She saw he’d already had quite a few glasses as the bottle of brandy she’d bought in the supermarket was only half full. Knowing what would happen if he drank any more, she forced herself to speak.

‘I just thought you might like some coffee to go with the brandy,’ she stammered.

It was the wrong thing to say. He jumped up from the chair and lashed out. His fist caught her cheek and she fell backwards, landing in a heap against the wall.

‘You thought? You thought? You’re not capable of thinking. Too stupid to know when to speak and when to shut the fuck up,’ he yelled, reaching down to grab hold of her hair and dragging her back up from the floor. ‘Who are you to tell me what to do?’

‘Gordon, please,’ she pleaded. ‘I didn’t mean you should stop drinking. I thought you might like a coffee to go with the brandy. You like that sometimes, don’t you?’

Sally knew the next few seconds would decide her fate. He was either going to beat her to a pulp or apologise. Holding her breath, she forced herself not to move.

He smiled. ‘Sally, Sally, Sally, you drive me insane, but you know I love you, don’t you?’ he said, letting go of her hair. ‘You’re right. A cup of coffee with a slug of brandy in it would be perfect.’

She went back into the kitchen and made a cortado coffee. Strong, just the way he liked it. Then she opened the drawer and took out the sleeping powder, stirring some into the coffee. It was now or never! He was on the point of losing it completely. She couldn’t go through another night like the last time. He almost killed her then.

‘Aren’t you coming to sit with me?’ he asked as she put his coffee on the small table next to him and turned to go back into the kitchen. ‘You know I like you to be in here where I can see you.’

Sally moved to the couch and sat down at the end furthest from his armchair. Out of range – just in case he lashed out again.

‘Not there,’ he said. ‘Come up this end.’

She got up and moved closer to him, keeping a wary eye on his face for any sign he was about to make a sudden move, but he smiled and turned his attention back to the television. Sally sat, quietly watching as he downed the coffee in three quick gulps. Please make the powder work, she prayed silently. She had to get away!

Sally was so deep in thought that she jumped when Gordon started snoring. The level of brandy in the bottle was down around the one third mark. He’d knocked back nearly a full bottle of wine, two thirds of a bottle of brandy and a cup of coffee laced with sleeping powder. His mouth was hanging open and he was out for the count.

His wallet was on the small side table between the sofa and his armchair. Sally stared at it, wondering if there was enough money in there to cover a few days, hotel expenses. She only really needed enough to tide her over until she could get to work on Monday to pick up her bank card. Keeping a watchful eye on him, she reached out with a shaking hand and picked it up.

There was a thick wad of notes. Would it be enough? She looked wistfully at the bank cards, but there was no point in taking most of those. He’d never told her the PIN numbers for any of the cards, other than for the one she used in the supermarket once a week. She could take that and draw some money from a cash machine. Did she dare? No. He’d be able to track where she was if she used it.

Gordon twitched and shuddered. Sally froze.

What would he do if he woke up and caught her with his wallet in her hand? She knew the answer to that would be more broken bones and went to put the wallet back, but realised she might be giving up her only chance to escape. Placing the wallet on her lap, she slid the notes out and quietly stood up, shoving the money into the back pocket of her jeans. She’d count it later.

Gently she put the wallet back onto the table, then inched away from the couch so as not to disturb him. She should go upstairs and pack a bag, but he might wake up while she was doing it. If he caught her, he might be so angry he’d . . . what? She couldn’t bring herself to think about what he might do.

She crept to the front door and . . .