The Marriage by K.L. Slater (any book recommendations TXT) 📕

had such sad little lives they detested seeing others happy. There were plenty of folk out there like that, Jill Billinghurst being a prime example. In fact, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if one or more of the anonymous derogatory comments was from her. Little did she know the stuff that was happening behind her own back. She’d soon have far more important problems to deal with than worrying about her precious son.

I reached for the make-up mirror on my bedside table and studied my face. Tom had thrown the curtains open when he got up, and the sun streamed in, cruelly highlighting all my faults and flaws. I turned my head this way and that. Sunlight aside, there was no doubt about it. The lines from my nose to my mouth were deepening despite the monthly anti-ageing facial I’d had religiously since I turned forty-five. I had no frown lines thanks to my three-month Botox appointments, and my cheeks had the perky plumpness of youth courtesy of facial filler, but … Maybe I was meant to see those horrible comments. Perhaps the cruel reactions had actually done me a favour and this was a sign it was time to take my anti-ageing measures that little bit further.

I closed the article and threw down my phone, pulling the covers up over my head and curling up on my side. Bile rose in my throat. Sometimes fighting off the signs of ageing felt like trying to hold back the tide. It didn’t matter how vigilant you became; the lines, the wrinkles, the dryness, the loss of elasticity crept up on you like weeds in the garden. How must it feel to not bother? To be so happy in your own skin you accepted the way you looked?

I allowed myself five minutes of misery and then shook it off.

I texted Coral and asked her to call round at the house before she went to work. I hadn’t spoken to her since the disastrous dinner party, but I got a reply back right away.

When’s best to call?

Her obviously curt tone irked me, but I tapped out my reply.

This morning at 11.30?

See you then.

There were some uncomfortable things that needed saying. I felt like we’d reached a bit of a crossroads in our relationship. I didn’t care if I never set eyes on Coral again, but I had Ellis to think of and I wouldn’t compromise my contact with him for anything or anyone.

I ran a moisturising bubble bath and applied an expensive Clarins firming and nourishing face treatment and tried to forget about Tom ogling fit young women at the gym.

I opened the front door to Coral a couple of hours later. She wore baggy leggings and an old sweatshirt covered in paint stains. She had made zero effort to make herself look even half-decent. It spoke volumes about how little she’d come to respect me.

I made her a cold drink and she sat sipping it, scrolling through her phone, sniggering at various posts she came across.

‘Coral, for God’s sake put that away for a few minutes, will you?’

She looked at me and tutted with disapproval. ‘Don’t treat me like I’m at school and you’re my teacher. It’s really irritating.’

‘I’ll tell you what’s irritating,’ I said, instantly breaking my promise to myself not to get annoyed. ‘Irritating is you using your spare key to let yourself in here and dump Ellis any time it’s convenient so you can go off and do your own thing. Like you did the other day.’

‘Do my own thing?’ Coral said, doing a good job of acting the offended innocent. ‘You said to bring him over here for tea!’

I tried to keep a check on my temper, but it pushed to get out. ‘What you do with your own life is your business, Coral, but I’m concerned Ellis is spending too much time on his own. The only interaction he gets seems to be through one of his devices.’

‘You know, that would be hilarious if it wasn’t so sad and upsetting.’ Her eyes glinted peevishly. ‘You seem to worry about everything but the thing that’s actually affecting him and causing him harm.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘Do I have to spell it out? One minute Ellis is your whole life; the next, you’ve married the man who battered his dad to death. How do you think that might be affecting him?’

‘It was one punch, hardly a vicious battering,’ I retorted through clenched teeth. ‘I’ve had long talks with Ellis about Tom and me getting married, as you know. I’ve told him he’s free to ask me any questions or chat more as and when he feels the need.’

‘You only told us a few days before Tom got out; there’s been no time to get used to it. And there’s the age thing, too. Tom could be your son, think about that. Think about how that cringey newspaper interview you’ve done might make Ellis feel … his nanny and her toy boy! That’s what the kids are spreading around his school, do you know that?’

I winced. It was a low blow. ‘Tom is an adult and Ellis wouldn’t even give our age gap a thought if—’

‘Other people do, though! Are you so out of it you haven’t thought about the gossiping that’s happening around town? You must have seen it online, the sniping, the revulsion that you’ve married your son’s killer. People are sickened. You’re holed up in your nice house away from it all, but we have to live in the real world.’

I felt a flutter of nerves at what she was saying. I’d seen a few nasty comments but not full-blown gossip on social media. I’d been busy though. With Tom. Still, I wasn’t about to let her see I had any concerns.

‘Our marriage is nobody’s business. Not yours, not the kids at school. Not bloody Facebook’s. I’ll speak to the head teacher if it’s a problem for Ellis.’

‘I’ve already spoken to her,’ Coral