The Marriage - K.L. Slater (story books to read .TXT) 📗

his conviction. ‘Tom is still here and one day he’ll be a free man again. Don’t give your life up, Jill, don’t grieve like you’ve lost him for good because that’s not the case.’

Jill had spent the last ten years in complete denial of what had really happened that night. In her opinion, her son had been completely innocent. It was simple. Jesse had pulled out a knife and Tom had defended himself.

In reality, it was never as clear-cut as that. There were no witnesses, but Tom and Jesse had been friends all their lives, and a lot of folk around here knew instinctively that there must have been other complications at play.

In the end, Audrey had taken some of her own advice and realised that she too was in a kind of denial. Although she’d never want to give up completely on Jill, she accepted nothing she could do would stop her friend grieving for a son who had not yet died. Nor would Jill admit that her life would be so much better without Robert eroding her confidence.

After a few years, Audrey had taken a step or two back and turned her attention to someone else instead. In short, she had got herself in a bit of a mess and she wasn’t sure how to get out of it.

She rang the bell and watched through the coloured glass panels of the Billinghursts’ front door as someone appeared in the hallway.

She took a breath and steeled herself as the door opened.

‘Come in,’ Robert said, the mere sound of his voice turning her knees to jelly. ‘She’ll be out for a while. We’ve got plenty of time.’

Forty-Eight Jill

When Tom and Bridget returned from Coral’s house, it was clear to me something had happened between them. Tom brought in a great armful of clothes, heading straight upstairs to offload them. I recognised the dark eyes, the beetled brows. Something was bothering him.

‘Did you get everything you wanted?’ I asked as he passed me.

He nodded, then stopped and looked at me over the tangle of fabrics. ‘You can get off if you like now, Mum. Thanks for watching Ellis.’

I wanted to blurt out what Ellis had told me about his altercation with Coral, ask him what it meant. Had something gone on between Tom and Jesse on the night Jesse died that Tom had never told anyone? What would he say if the police asked about his relationship with Coral? Would he tell them about the argument Ellis had witnessed?

As he climbed the stairs, Bridget appeared in the hallway, a smaller clutch of garments in her arms.

‘I can help you unload the car?’ I offered.

‘No, no. We’ll do it, thanks,’ she said dismissively. Then, ‘Has Ellis been OK?’

‘Fine. He asked me to sit with him a while.’

‘He did?’ She lowered her arms and looked at me. ‘Did he … say anything?’

‘About what?’

She shrugged. ‘He’s not been very talkative with me, that’s all.’

‘He didn’t say much,’ I said. ‘If you don’t need any help, Tom said I should get off.’

‘Yes, thanks again for staying,’ she said. An awkward silence settled between us, then she said, ‘The police want to speak to us in the morning at ten.’

‘They want to speak to Tom, too?’

Bridget looked at me steadily. ‘Yes, Jill, they do. At the station.’ A whirl of emotions rose inside me, and I took a step back. ‘Are you all right? You’ve gone very pale. They said it’s only routine, they have some questions about Coral.’ I pushed away the images of the police taking Tom back to prison. ‘I wondered if you’d mind having Ellis again. We’ll drop him off at your house on the way to the police station if that’s OK.’

‘Course, that’s fine,’ I said quickly. ‘He’s a lovely boy.’

Bridget beamed. ‘He’s very special. Being a grandparent is the best feeling in the world.’

She locked her eyes onto mine. Was that the faintest of smirks forming on her lips? Or was I imagining it? A flutter started in my chest.

Tom came back downstairs. He walked past Bridget and she glanced at him, but he kept staring ahead. They’d definitely had a falling-out and I wondered what it was about.

I said a hurried goodbye to Bridget and followed Tom out to the car. I had to play this cool, otherwise he’d shut down.

‘I’m off home,’ I said lightly, standing by the car as he leaned into the back seat and scooped out more clothing. ‘Any time you fancy a cuppa, pop in. We’d love to see you.’ I thought about the strained relations between Tom and his father. ‘I’d love to see you. We could have a proper talk.’

I expected him to wave my offer away, but instead he turned and looked at me. His posture sagged, his forehead crinkled. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ he said. ‘I know you care and I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much heartache. I want you to know—’

‘Tom?’ Bridget called from the front door, hands on hips.

He gave me a peck on the cheek. ‘See you, Mum, thanks again.’

‘But what were you going to say? You want me to know what?’

‘Nothing important,’ he said, turning away. ‘I’ll come over soon and we’ll talk. I promise.’

Back home, Robert seemed nervy, offering to make me a drink which was unusual. He kept gravitating to the window and craning his neck to see up and down the street.

‘What are you looking for?’ I said, wishing he’d settle down.

‘Nothing, nothing. Just wondering what the weather’s going to do. Any news?’

I shook my head. ‘Bridget and Tom have to go to the police station in the morning to answer some questions.’

‘A terrible business,’ he said. ‘Let’s hope Tom being recently released doesn’t put him under more suspicion.’

That was Robert all over. Saying the first thing that came into his head without a thought for how I’d worry endlessly over it.

‘I don’t want to discuss it,’