The Bad Mother: The addictive, gripping thriller that will make you question everything. Amanda Brooke

it from the top of her lungs with her hands balled into fists. Determined to prove a point, she had flung open a cupboard and taken out a container full of porridge oats. She had grabbed a handful and, in a shower of oats, had turned to face her husband again, but to her horror, Adam had been backing away with his arms held out as if to fend off an attack.

      ‘No more,’ he had begged. ‘Please don’t hit me. Please, Lucy.’

      Except it had already been too late. Although Lucy had no recollection of laying a hand on Adam, there was a series of angry welts across his neck.

      She had been unable to revisit what exactly had happened the evening before when her anger had pulled a red veil over her senses, but the evidence was irrefutable as Adam tugged off his scarf to reveal the scratch marks she had made.

      ‘Adam … I think I lost it last night,’ she said as she waited for him to put away his things. She heard the click of the closet door closing, but he stayed where he was. ‘Actually, I know I did.’

      ‘How have you been feeling today?’ he asked when he was ready to face her.

      ‘OK, I suppose.’

      ‘I was worried,’ he said, although his tone and expression gave away none of his concern. ‘I thought all that hysteria might have done some damage.’

      If you were that anxious, Lucy thought, why did you leave me sobbing in the kitchen to clean up the mess on my own? Why did you pretend to be asleep when I went to bed? Why haven’t I heard from you all day?

      ‘I have no idea where all that anger came from,’ she offered instead.

      ‘But we both know where it was directed,’ Adam said, rubbing his neck. ‘I accept that I shouldn’t have missed the parenting class, and I was ready for the backlash, but that was some way to get back at me, Lucy.’

      ‘I was totally irrational, I know that,’ she said, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. The word irrational had featured strongly in their argument.

      ‘Is it still here?’

      When Lucy pursed her lips together, her chin wobbled. ‘I’ve been cuddling him all day. He keeps me calm, Adam. I don’t want to give him back, but I will if you tell me to.’

      ‘And suddenly I’m the bad guy again.’

      Lucy wasn’t sure, but she thought his lips were trembling too despite his set jaw. ‘I want to make things right. I want to forget all about the argument and if that means removing all evidence, I’m prepared to do it. That’s my decision.’

      ‘I used the kitten to explain away the scratch marks at work,’ he said. ‘I don’t think Naomi believed me. She’d love Ranjit to think my marriage is falling apart while she bangs on about getting engaged. The cat will have to stay so we can keep up the lie you’ve made me tell.’

      Lucy wanted to go to Adam and kiss away the pain but she would feel better if he made the first move. She needed to know that he would remain by her side during this madness – her madness. It was a horrible, horrible word that frightened her, and she needed Adam to pull her back from the brink.

      When he shifted position, Lucy took it as an invitation. She rushed towards the arms she was sure would open up for her, but Adam flinched as if expecting her to strike. She buried her head into his shoulder and there was a heart-stopping moment when his arms hung limply by his side, but in the next moment, he was holding her.

      ‘I love you, Adam,’ she sobbed. ‘I can’t live without you.’

      ‘And I love you too,’ he whispered. ‘I just want my Lucy back.’

      Lifting her head, she said, ‘I’m here. I’m still here.’

      He smoothed the hair back from her forehead and the look in his eyes softened. ‘It’s not all your fault. I could have reacted better. I should have realized how the kitten was simply another symptom, and the more pregnant you are,’ he said, taking a step back to glance at her maternity smock, ‘the more likely it is that your moods will be erratic. I think I know where the anger came from and so do you. You’re scared that whatever affected your dad is now affecting you and, I have to be honest, it’s getting harder to pretend there isn’t a connection.’

      ‘If I’d known what I would be like, I’d never have let you marry me,’ Lucy confessed. ‘I never really gave much thought to what happened to Dad, or at least, not as much as I do now.’

      ‘You’ve been in denial, that’s all,’ Adam told her. ‘Look at how you used to live your life, pretending you were the same as all those friends who refused to acknowledge how much you were struggling. When you bounded into my life, you acted as if you didn’t have a care in the world, but anyone who was willing to take the time to get to know you could have seen through your act. It was inevitable that the past would catch up with you one day. All it was going to take was one trigger. Who knows what it was with your dad, but pregnancy seems to be what might have set you off.’

      ‘But if you knew I was such a screw-up, why did you ever bother with me?’

      He kissed the top of her head. ‘Because I wanted to. You’re my screw-up now, Lucy. I promised to look after you and I will. I’ve juggled my workload and I’m working from home for the rest of the week. I’ll need to lock myself away in the office at some point, but I thought now might be a good time to start on the nursery.’

      Lucy followed Adam’s gaze to the large carrier bag sitting by the front door. ‘What’s that?’

      ‘Paint.’

      There were two spare bedrooms to choose from for the nursery and Adam had offered to relocate his office to the box room, but Lucy could tell he was loath to do it. If she needed him to stay at home more, it made sense that he should be comfortable, and they could always move the baby into the larger room when she was older.

      The question of décor, however, had yet to be agreed. She planned to paint a mural and had initially dreamt up a gender-neutral scene with forest animals. That had been back when they hadn’t known the sex of the baby and Lucy had assumed they would be using her old cot with its squirrel and bunny rabbit motif. Lately, she had toyed with the idea of unicorns dancing on fluffy white clouds, but she had yet to convince Adam about having so much sky blue as the background colour in a little girl’s room.

      ‘What colour did you get?’

      Adam returned to the bags and pulled out a five-litre pot of silk emulsion. It took all of Lucy’s self-control not to pull a face. ‘Pink,’ she said, flatly.

      ‘Obviously. You were right, it’s the only colour we could have picked. I did look at a pastel shade, but it’s such a small room and I thought this would make a bigger impact.’

      Adam looked so pleased with himself that Lucy had to stop herself from pointing out that the deep shade he had chosen would make the room appear twice as small. She had no idea what had given him the impression she wanted any shade of pink as the backdrop for her mural, but she must have said something, so she concentrated on how she could work with what she had. It was entirely possible that unicorns lived in a world with bubble-gum-pink skies, and she could always make the clouds bigger and fluffier. ‘I can’t wait to get started.’

      Adam shook his head. ‘Oh no, you’re not coming near it. All that stretching won’t be good for you and we can’t have you getting paint on your new clothes,’ he said, suppressing a smile when he added, ‘Although that shirt thing you’re wearing would make a good coverall when you’ve finished with it.’

      ‘You don’t like it?’ she asked, tugging at the hem and giving Adam a chance to reconsider. It was getting harder to feel attractive and a little white lie was all she needed.

      ‘I was joking, Luce. But if you’re feeling that pregnant,’ he said, glancing at her expanding girth that was emphasized by the smock, ‘it’s all the more reason not to take on more than you have to. It’s rest for you from now on.’

      ‘But