Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2018

Copyright © Carmel Harrington 2018

Cover illustrations © Shutterstock.com

Cover design by Ellie Game © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018

Carmel Harrington asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and 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.

Source ISBN: 9780008276584

Ebook Edition © October 2018 ISBN: 9780008276591

Version: 2018-08-31

Dedication

For Ann Murphy, my person. You’ve been making my life better for nearly thirty years. Thank you.

Epigraph

There are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the ground;

there are a thousand ways to go home again.

Rumi

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Prologue

Chapter 1. RUTH

Chapter 2. RUTH

Chapter 3. RUTH

Chapter 4. TOM

Chapter 5. RUTH

Chapter 6. RUTH

Chapter 7. RUTH

Chapter 8. TOM

Chapter 9. RUTH

Chapter 10. RUTH

Chapter 11. RUTH

Chapter 12. TOM

Chapter 13. TOM

Chapter 14. RUTH

Chapter 15. RUTH

Chapter 16. TOM

Chapter 17. TOM

Chapter 18. TOM

Chapter 19. RUTH

Chapter 20. TOM

Chapter 21. RUTH

Chapter 22. TOM

Chapter 23. RUTH

Chapter 24. RUTH

Chapter 25. TOM

Chapter 26. TOM

Chapter 27. RUTH

Chapter 28. TOM

Chapter 29. TOM

Chapter 30. RUTH

Chapter 31. TOM

Chapter 32. RUTH

Chapter 33. RUTH

Chapter 34. RUTH

Chapter 35. RUTH

Chapter 36. RUTH

Chapter 37. TOM

Chapter 38. TOM

Chapter 39. RUTH

Chapter 40. TOM

Chapter 41. TOM

Chapter 42. RUTH

Chapter 43. TOM

Chapter 44. RUTH

Chapter 45. TOM

Chapter 46. TOM

Chapter 47. TOM

Chapter 48. RUTH

Chapter 49. RUTH

Chapter 50. TOM

Chapter 51

Chapter 52. TOM

Chapter 53. TOM

Chapter 54. TOM

Chapter 55. TOM

Chapter 56. TOM

Chapter 57. TOM

Chapter 58. RUTH

Epilogue

A Note from the Author

Book Club Questions

If you loved A Thousand Roads Home, then why not dip into some other books by Carmel Harrington …

About the Author

Also by Carmel Harrington

About the Publisher

PROLOGUE

Then

Ruth fastened the seat belt around her newborn son’s car seat. She tugged it twice to double-check it was secure. Little DJ puckered his lips and smiled as he chased his dreams, the way babies do.

She switched the engine on and drove away from the only world she knew. But she was not sorry. It was just her and her son now. Whilst there was fear, there was excitement, too. It was time for a new beginning. She looked in the rear-view mirror to ensure her sleeping son was as he should be. She would do this many times until they arrived at their new flat in Dublin.

Ruth Wilde had always been a person with obsessions: Odd Thomas, who was both her imaginary best friend and the main character from her favourite book written by Dean Koontz (she would soon finish this book for the hundred and fourth time); Westlife, her number-one favourite band, whose song ‘Flying without Wings’ helped her drown out the white noise and anxiety whenever it threatened to overcome her; mashed potatoes, white sliced loaf, bananas, ice cream – in fact any food that was white in colour; counting steps, always even.

Yes, Ruth Wilde did obsessions very well.

And now she had a new one. The most important one of all.

Her son.

She would be a good mother. She would fight for DJ when he could not fight for himself. She would keep him safe from the dangers that lurked in the dark shadows. She would make him laugh at least once a day. And she would love him as she had never been loved herself.

Yes, it was time. Ruth was ready to leave Wexford to make a new home for her family.

‘Just the two of us against the world, DJ,’ she whispered. She hit play on her CD player, letting Shane from Westlife’s voice fill the car. The words from, ‘Flying Without Wings’ had never felt more apt. For as long as Ruth had thought, she too had been looking for that something. Something to make her complete. She glanced at DJ again in the rear-view mirror and felt joyful satisfaction bubble its way up inside her.

If she had not chosen that exact second to do this, she might have noticed instead the man she’d just passed, walking with a rucksack on his back. And she might have stopped.

Tom did not notice the red car pass by him either, as he walked along the Estuary Road towards the N11. His head was full of the warnings his friend Ben had made earlier. They nipped and taunted him, whirling around in his brain, tangling everything up, until he could no longer make sense of anything.

‘If you don’t find something to light up the darkness, Tom, you’ll get lost in the shadows.’

But what if that was what he wanted? Tom didn’t believe he would ever feel peace again. He was bone tired from weeks of sleepless nights. Despite this, he kept on walking, putting one foot in front of the other. His pace was steady and a few hours later he arrived in the town of Enniscorthy. Tom’s feet were beginning to protest about the long walk. A throb in his right little toe and left heel set up residence. He welcomed the pain.

He walked over the Seamus Rafter Bridge, leaving the banks of the River Slaney behind him. He glanced at Enniscorthy Castle on his right then made his way towards Main Street.

It was late, the last of the daylight now swallowed up by the night. He didn’t plan to end up here, but somehow he’d found himself in the grounds of St Aidan’s Cathedral. He walked to a small clearing in the shadow of the big church and sat down, his back against the cold stone wall.

For in that sleep of death what dreams will come. That’s what Shakespeare had written. Tom hoped he was right. Because if so, Cathy was living the life they had dreamed they would have. The life that had been cruelly snatched from them. Wouldn’t that be something?

Close your eyes.

– Cathy?

Yes, my love.

– Are you here?

Remember what I told you. If you close your eyes, the dreams will come.

– I don’t know how.

Yes, you do. We’re waiting for you, Tom. Come home to us.

Tom didn’t make a conscious decision to sleep outdoors. The night just crept up on him. To his surprise, on the hard, concrete ground with the cold brick of the Cathedral to his back, he finally found a different kind of peace and the sleep that had eluded him for weeks.

And in that sleep the dreams did come.

Cathy stood a few feet away from him, carrying Mikey. He ran towards them and pulled them both into his arms.

Daddy’s home. I’ll never leave you again.

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