The Marriage K.L. Slater (classic romance novels TXT) 📖

to him. I want him thoroughly checked out. Something’s not right. I feel it,’ I said.

‘You feel it?’ the doctor repeated in a patronising tone, the corners of his mouth twitching.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I feel it.’

And so it began. Days of travelling to and from the hospital. Each time, they’d tell us nothing was wrong, that Tom was ‘one of those sickly children’ but that he’d grow out of it.

‘It’s time to put a stop to this, Jill,’ Robert said after the fourth day. He sat me down, looked at me like you might do to a kind aunt who you suspected was turning a bit batty. ‘It’s not fair of us to keep dragging Tom to hospital only for him to be poked and prodded and then discharged again. You’ve got to accept this is just the way he is. You heard what the doctor said.’

But when I looked into my baby’s dull, pleading eyes, I knew. I just knew.

‘I’ll take him back on my own if you don’t want to come,’ I said. ‘This time, I’m not leaving the hospital until they find out what’s going on.’

To give Robert his due, he stuck with it, and the next day, after a terrifying dash to the hospital in the middle of the night, we finally got an answer that made sense.

Tom had a heart murmur that was getting rapidly worse. He needed an operation, and it was a bigger one than if they’d acted sooner. I wished I’d been more insistent earlier in the process. He recovered well, but the surgeon told us that, left untreated, the condition might easily have killed him. Like one of those healthy sixteen-year-old boys we’ve all read about who collapses out of the blue on the football pitch.

I’d known there was something wrong all along. When everyone had tried to shut me up, I knew it. Like Dad had once said, it was all about keeping tight control on what you cared about.

I’d internalised that rule. Lived by it. Now, I was beginning to realise how it had utterly exhausted me over the years.

I knew there were things happening around my son and I was determined to find out what. No matter how many times they all told me I was imagining it.

The café was only about a ten-minute walk from Second Chances, across the other side of town. It was a cold but dry afternoon, so when I’d finished my coffee, I decided to leave the car where it was and walk over there. I’d call in and surprise Audrey, find out what she thought about the cryptic things Coral had said.

It was actually a bit cooler than I’d thought, so I buttoned up my jacket and set off. The sky was grey and the breeze was persistent, but after a few minutes walking briskly, I warmed up a bit.

I took a short cut through the quieter side roads until I reached the bustle of the main shops again. I wondered how Tom would get on in his new job at Bridget’s charity. It sounded so much fancier than the humble archiving clerk position I’d lined up for him. I wished I felt more pleased for him, but judging by the article Audrey had shown me, Bridget was making full use of Tom’s link to Jesse’s death to highlight the work of the charity. My son being pushed into the media spotlight for all the wrong reasons.

As I neared the shop, I felt a little nervous, hoping Audrey would be pleased to see me. All friendships had sticky patches. Maybe I’d been more absorbed in my own life than I’d realised. I thought she had things going on in her life she hadn’t wanted to burden me with.

The shop looked empty from the street, but when I opened the door, prompting the old-fashioned bell to chime out, Audrey and the single customer who stood with her at the desk both turned round.

‘Jill!’ Audrey’s eyes widened and she quickly stepped away from the other person. ‘This is unexpected!’

She was babbling, but I was already too distracted to take any notice of her.

The customer stepped forward.

‘Jill,’ Bridget said. ‘What a nice surprise. You look … different. Your hair!’

To my knowledge, Bridget had never been in the shop before. I kept my voice level. ‘Am I interrupting something important?’

‘No! Of course not.’ Audrey sprang into her smooth managerial patter. ‘Bridget popped in to say hello and to—’

‘I wanted a look around the shop,’ Bridget added laconically. ‘I’ve always wondered what it was like in here.’

‘Really?’ I took a few steps forward. ‘Audrey, you were showing her, I presume?’

Audrey picked up some wire hangers and put them down again. She didn’t know where to look or what to do with herself.

Bridget sighed. ‘Look, to tell you the truth, I came in to ask Audrey if you were OK. Last week’s dinner party wasn’t the success I’d hoped it would be, and … I thought Audrey might know how you were feeling.’

I folded my arms and stared at her. She must think I’d fallen off a Christmas tree.

‘Why didn’t you simply ask me how I was feeling, Bridget?’ I turned my attention to Audrey. Her usually calm demeanour had vanished. Her face looked hot, her eyes darting around the shop as if she was searching for an escape route. ‘I didn’t know you were in touch with Bridget, Audrey.’ My measured tone belied the relentless thumping on my chest wall. I was desperately trying to piece it all together, but I was drawing a complete blank.

‘I should go,’ Bridget said. ‘Thanks for showing me around the shop, Audrey.’

‘Hang on,’ I called as she walked quickly to the door. Something was wrong with this picture. It wasn’t only that my best friend was talking to my biggest enemy. There was something else more subtle out of place. I was the outsider. The one in the dark.

Another customer came in at that moment and Bridget took the opportunity