Envy. Amanda Robson

138. Jonah

       139. Erica

       140. Faye

       141. Erica

       142. Faye

       143. Phillip

       144. Jonah

       145. Phillip

       146. Jonah

       147. Phillip

       148. Faye

       149. Erica

       150. Faye

       151. Erica

       152. Jonah

       153. Erica

       154. Faye

       155. Phillip

       156. Erica

       157. Faye

       158. Phillip

       159. Faye

       160. Jonah

       161. Faye

       162. Erica

       163. Faye

       164. Jonah

       165. Phillip

       166. Phillip

       167. Faye

       168. Jonah

       169. Faye

       170. Erica

       171. Phillip

       172. Jonah

       173. Erica

       174. Jonah

       175. Erica

       176. Jonah

       177. Faye

       178. Erica

       179. Faye

       180. Erica

       181. Faye

       182. Erica

       183. Jonah

       184. Erica

       185. Faye

       186. Faye

       187. Phillip

       188. Faye

       189. Erica

       190. Faye

       191. Phillip

       192. Faye

       193. Phillip

       194. Erica

       195. Faye

       196. Erica

       197. Faye

       198. Phillip

       199. Erica

       200. Phillip

       201. Faye

       202. Erica

       203. Erica

       204. Faye

       205. Phillip

       206. Faye

       207. Faye

       208. Erica

       209. Phillip

       210. Faye

       211. Erica

       212. Faye

       213. Phillip

       214. Erica

       215. Faye

       216. Erica

       217. Phillip

       218. Faye

       219. Faye

       220. Phillip

       221. Faye

       222. Erica

       223. Faye

       224. Erica

       225. Faye

       226. Phillip

       227. Faye

       228. Phillip

       229. Faye

       230. Phillip

       231. Faye

       232. Phillip

       233. Faye

       Acknowledgements

       Keep Reading …

       About the Author

       By the Same Author

       About the Publisher

       1

       Erica

      I watch you every day, walking past my flat on the way to the school drop-off, holding your older daughter’s hand, pushing the younger one along in the buggy. Sometimes strolling and chatting. Sometimes rushing. Usually wearing your gym kit. Judging by your body shape, your commitment to exercise is worth it. I wish I had a figure like yours.

      Your older daughter has gappy teeth and straggly hair. Nowhere near as pretty as you. Your husband must have diluted the gene pool. The younger one, the toddler, is always asleep in the buggy. She looks to have stronger hair, and a chubbier face. I would have loved to have children, but I’ve never been in the right relationship.

      I envy you, and have from the first moment I saw you scurry past. A moment I recall so well. I was bored. I had nothing to do but look out of my front window, and watch the world go by. Three p.m. Parents rushing to the primary school at pickup time. Parents, nannies, and then you. The woman I would look like if I could, moving past me. The image of my mother from my only remaining photograph. So similar you made me hold my breath.

      A few days ago, when you dropped your gym card, I finally found out that your name is Faye Baker. You didn’t notice it fall from the back pocket of your jeans as you tightened your laces, did you? As you turned in to the school gates I left my flat, and crossed the road to pick it up. Later that day I handed it in to the school reception. Were you grateful, Faye?

       2

       Faye

      We move towards the school gates through air intertwined with drizzle. The drizzle tightens and turns to icy drops of rain, which spit into my face and make me wince a little. I squeeze my elder daughter Tamsin’s hand more tightly.

      ‘Let’s hurry up, otherwise we’ll be drenched,’ I tell her.

      Together, we push the buggy and run laughing