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the other kids wouldn’t dare.

This gave him a certain status, and as a result he had collected a few hangers-on. A couple of them were proper psychos who’d been given several fixed-term exclusions for bad behaviour. They were the kind of kids most of his classmates steered clear of. But they came in useful now and again, and it was better than being a Nobby no-mates like the new kid. Ellis had seen his parents dropping him off yesterday morning. Seen him hug his dad and give him a high-five, something Ellis himself would never be able to do with his own dad.

He turned to Monty Ladrow, who was busy relieving a Year 4 kid of his lunch money. The word around here was that Monty’s uncle ran a bit of an extortion racket on the local housing estates. If people paid him a monthly fee, their property miraculously remained safe. Due to missing so much school because of various exclusions over the last year, Monty had to have extra help in most subjects. He had no safety catch when it came to temper, and in Ellis’s opinion, he was definitely someone it was best to have onside.

‘See that new kid over there?’ Ellis hissed in his ear. ‘Thinks he’s a proper tough nut, he does.’

Instantly interested, Monty released the whimpering Year 4 kid from a headlock. ‘Yeah?’

Ellis nodded. ‘I heard he’s been bragging that his dad has done time in the nick, so he thinks he’s rock hard himself. Reckons everyone here’s scared to death of him.’

Monty frowned. ‘You’re joking? He’s proper weedy.’

‘Right. I told him, I said, you’re not the only one whose dad has been sent down, Monty’s dad has too, and you know what he said?’

Monty’s face twisted and Ellis bit back a smirk. He was so easy to wind up. ‘What? What did he say?’

‘He said your dad was a pussy.’

‘I’ll kill him and then he’ll not be saying anything,’ Monty snarled.

‘Well, I’d sort it out quick if I were you. People might get the wrong idea about your old man.’ Seeing the dark expression that immediately fell over Monty’s face, Ellis hastily added, ‘I bet your dad would kill his dad if they had a fight.’

Ellis had never met Monty’s dad, but he’d heard the other kids saying he was a nutter who’d been in and out of prison so many times Monty hardly knew him at all.

He watched as Monty stomped across the playground. He moved so fast, the new kid only spotted him when he was a few paces away. He dropped his foot down from the wall and stood very still.

Monty jutted his chin forward, then his arms shot out and he pushed hard. The younger boy lost his balance and stumbled. This immediately attracted the attention of other kids close by, and a small crowd swiftly gathered around them.

‘Fight! Fight!’ they began to chant in unison.

Monty easily wrestled the boy to the floor and managed to hit him in the face twice before a nearby teacher pulled them apart.

Ellis melted away into the shadows. His shoulders and neck felt more relaxed and his head wasn’t banging any more. He felt better already.

Thirty-One Bridget

When I woke up, it took me a while to come around. I lay in bed longer than I should’ve done trying to drum up some energy and positive thoughts. An uneasy feeling radiated deep into my bones.

Tom had joined a swish new gym nearby. He was meeting one of his old boxing gym pals for a light brunch and then had booked his initial induction session with a personal trainer late morning. Before leaving the house, he’d dressed in the new Gymshark gear he’d ordered online. Slim-fit shorts and a sleeveless tee cut to show off his superb physique. His muscled calves looked like they’d been sculpted from steel, his shoulders wide and sturdy.

I felt uncomfortable about him getting back in touch with someone from his ‘old life’, as we’d started calling it. We were supposed to be making a fresh start together, the last thing he needed were hangers-on from the past dragging him down. But it was impossible to say something to him without sounding like Jill.

I’d felt my stomach catch as I watched him moving around the bedroom, humming to himself, packing his towel and water bottle into his gym bag. I wondered who else might be at the trendy gym. It was probably full of hot young women in their twenties and early thirties with firm, tanned bodies and glossy hair …

‘Can’t wait for this.’ He’d grinned, bending down and kissing my cheek before he left. ‘There’s a juice bar too, want me to bring you one back? The strawberry spirulina looks amazing on their website.’

‘I’m good, thanks,’ I said, forcing some brightness into my voice. ‘Have fun.’

And then he was gone, taking his whirling youthful energy and sparkling enthusiasm with him. I felt tired and flat left lying there in our bedroom. I needed to redirect my thoughts.

I picked up my phone and opened Sunday’s article in the Daily Mail again. I’d been really pleased with how the newspaper had portrayed us and they’d made a generous donation to Young Men Matter for the interview. We both looked great in the photograph, and I thought they’d written sensitively and intelligently about our relationship.

I scrolled down past the article and the sensationalist story adverts to the comments section.

Good luck to them both. They look good together.

They deserve happiness. Best of luck to them.

A warm glow started in my chest, allaying my silly fears and insecurities about Tom going to the gym. We did look good together and we were going to be very happy.

I scanned the next few comments and the glow quickly faded.

Sick. How can you love someone who killed your kid?

Man, she’s old enough 2b his mother!

He’s so hot … why on earth is he with a wrinkly woman nearly twice his age??

People were so judgemental. They probably

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