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Скачать книгу Broken: Part 3 of 3: A traumatised girl. Her troubled brother. Their shocking secret.

Broken: Part 3 of 3: A traumatised girl. Her troubled brother. Their shocking secret.

Автор:
Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2018 год
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      Broken: Part 3 of 3: A traumatised girl. Her troubled brother. Their shocking secret.
Rosie Lewis

Литагент HarperCollins

(#u4a8db146-2ce5-58c6-80ac-df5513b9f2cb)

Copyright (#u4a8db146-2ce5-58c6-80ac-df5513b9f2cb)

Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the family’s privacy.

HarperElement

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)

First published by HarperElement 2017

FIRST EDITION

© Rosie Lewis 2017

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers

Cover photograph (posed by model) © Images by Tracy/Alamy Stock Photo

A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

Rosie Lewis asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Find out about HarperCollins and the environment at

www.harpercollins.co.uk/green (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk/green)

Source ISBN: 9780008242800

Ebook Edition © December 2017 ISBN: 9780008242855

Version: 2017-11-14

Contents

Cover (#u667d7530-cf35-5bbf-8128-44dc45a2bff9)

Title Page (#ub39bfaa9-58cf-5adb-adde-8cff7d8e6485)

Copyright (#ub4212a83-386b-580f-8f77-324b96283c03)

By the same author (#u3f2fd52c-4596-59ba-afa8-620a810ae409)

Chapter Twenty-One (#u9b3c6c90-5989-5e79-b203-89f9ea088a9e)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#u077bb2e8-77aa-5640-a053-ec5219685b1c)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Helpful Reading (#litres_trial_promo)

Also available (#litres_trial_promo)

Moving Memoirs eNewsletter (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

By the same author (#u4a8db146-2ce5-58c6-80ac-df5513b9f2cb)

Helpless (e-short)

Trapped

A Small Boy’s Cry (e-short)

Two More Sleeps (e-short)

Betrayed

Unexpected (e-short)

Torn

Taken

Chapter Twenty-One (#u4a8db146-2ce5-58c6-80ac-df5513b9f2cb)

Archie looked a fright the next morning; his eyes puffy, cheeks flushed. In manic tidying mode from the minute he came downstairs, he began piling up the breakfast bowls and sweeping the spoons away before any of us had even eaten. ‘Archie, love,’ I said, laughing, ‘give us a chance. I’ve only just put those there.’

He grinned and set them out again, but there was a distant quality to his smile. Physically, he was with us, but it seemed that his mind was somewhere else. Hearing about the children’s disappointment, Emily and Jamie had agreed to come with us to the splash park the previous day. Archie had been cheered by the news and seemed to enjoy charging down the slides after Jamie, but even that failed to erase the dull sadness in his eyes. I got the sense that he was struggling to contain himself as he walked around the table. He straightened the placemats and centralised the bowls with the studied caution of someone who was about ready to explode.

It was Sunday 15 February and though the children had only been living with us for just over six weeks, I felt I already had Bobbi sussed. Her favourite game was animal hospital, although as a rule of thumb, any game that incorporated bandages and plasters tickled her interest, as well as those Megan closely guarded as her own. She loved painting and colouring but refused to have anything to do with mouldable dough, which she described as ‘disgusting’. I was also getting to know some of her triggers. I could tell when she was tired – her manic spins fading to drunken, endearing lollops – and when she was upping the ante for no other reason than because she needed a hug.

Archie, though, was still a mystery. I knew the image he liked to project well enough, and conversing with him was easy, but part of him was still more or less closed off. ‘Who’s going to be there today, Rosie?’ he asked as he rearranged the cutlery so that it was perpendicular to the mats.

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked and I could hear the reluctance in his voice. My friend Naomi had called the previous night and tearfully invited us to meet her at a stately home owned by the National Trust. I had first met Naomi on an Understanding Attachment course a year earlier, soon after she had adopted a sibling group of three. Overwhelmed and exhausted by the sudden change in her life, she had opened up to me over lunch one day and told me all about her struggles to build a family – her miscarriages and failed attempts at IVF.

When she and her husband had finally decided to adopt, social workers told her that they needed to mourn the losses they’d experienced before they could progress to being assessed, and it was another two years before they were finally matched with the siblings. The couple fell in love with the children on sight but the eldest child, who had been four at the time of placement, struggled to accept the loss of his old family and the imposition of a new one.

Aiden, now five, still insisted on using wet wipes whenever Naomi touched him, a daily rejection that broke her heart, and seemed intent on doing all he could to disrupt the growing bond between his new parents and younger siblings. Naomi and her husband understood that his behaviour was rooted in fear, but sometimes it was difficult for them not to take it personally.

I think being out of the house alleviated some of the pressure on the family, and Naomi often asked us to meet up, whatever the weather.
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