The Woman Before Me Read Online Free

we not look at this sorry woman who has been accused and admit that ‘There, but for the grace of God, go I?’
    Rose admits to being in Luke’s bedroom on the night he died. She should not have been there, she admits it. She should not have given in to her love and breastfed the boy. But she was grieving for her own son and depressed.
    She is adamant that she did not smoke in the Hatcher’s house. By Mrs Hatcher’s own admission she too is a smoker. Mrs Hatcher had argued with her husband that night and was unhappy; the cigarette that started the fire may have been hers. Whatever the case, however the tragic accident occurred, one thing is certain: Rose Wilks did not deliberately start the fire that killed Luke Hatcher.
    I put it to you that the proper verdict is that Rose Wilks is not guilty of murder. She is not guilty of manslaughter.”

NOW
    5
    “Hurry up, Amelia. We’ll be late!”
    Cate was pouring milk over Amelia’s Rice Krispies. She had already buttered a piece of burnt toast for her own breakfast. Hearing no sign that her daughter was on her way down, she took the stairs two at a time, and found Amelia on her bed amid a heap of dolls and teddies, still in vest and knickers.
    “Why aren’t you dressed?”
    “I’m tired.” Amelia flopped onto the bed. “I want to stay here.”
    Cate retrieved the pink dress she had laid out from the floor. “Arms up,” she commanded, pulling it over her daughter’s blonde hair. This was Tim’s fault; he’d returned her late the night before even though Cate had asked him not to. Amelia was always tired and cranky after spending a weekend with him.
    “Ow, Mummy. You’re hurting.”
    Ignoring her protests, Cate grabbed Amelia’s sandals, pushing them onto struggling feet and tightening the straps. “Right.
    Come on – breakfast. Quickly!”
    Amelia reluctantly followed her downstairs, plonked herself on a chair in front of the soggy cereal, and whined, “I don’t want Krispies. I want Cheerios.”
    “Just eat them.”
    Irritated, Cate saw it was nearly 8.30. She still had to drop Amelia at her childminder Julie’s house, and then drive down the coast to Bishop’s Hill Prison. She was going to be late. Throwing an apple and a sandwich in her bag, she turned to see that Amelia’s hunched shoulders were shaking. Torn between anger and pity, Cate begged, “Please don’t cry, Amelia.”
    “But I wanted Cheerios,” she sobbed, “Daddy lets me.”
    Giving in, Cate grabbed a clean bowl, filled it with Cheerios, sloshing the milk on the kitchen counter in her haste, and placed the bowl in front of Amelia. “Now eat them. Quickly!”
    Amelia’s insistence on Cheerios had cost Cate valuable minutes. After dropping her off at Julie’s she had driven to the prison and rushed into the entrance.
    She waited patiently, catching her breath. The prison officers behind the reinforced glass continued talking to each other, ignoring her, so she banged on the window and pushed her ID card under the grille.
    “Cate Austin. Probation Officer. Reporting for my first day.”
    Once inside the prison Officer Dave Callahan showed her around. He looked to be in his early fifties, with suspiciously dark hair and a body that was muscle gone to fat. He had probably been attractive in his youth, and held on to the illusion that he still was. Flirting with Cate, he escorted her around the units, making a show of chivalry by opening every one of the barred gates, but not showing her the respect of addressing her by name. When she asked him to cut out calling her ‘love’ and ‘sweetheart’, he just laughed in reply. She was going to have problems with him.
    “So what makes a pretty girl like you want to work in a prison?”
    “Well, I would have been a pilot, but I don’t like heights,” she retorted, dryly, as Callahan’s booming laugh reverberated round the walls.
    “This used to be a training farm for men who were going off to the colonies.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah,