by K. L. Slater
Bridget
October 2019
We lay there entwined after making love on waking up in our big new bed. I felt satiated, calm. For the first time since Jesse died, I felt truly loved.
‘I was thinking,’ I said tentatively. ‘About asking your parents around here for a meal next weekend. You know, to try and break the ice a bit.’
Tom sucked air in through his teeth. ‘I don’t know about that.’
‘But why?’ I turned on my side, hitched up onto an elbow and looked down at him. ‘The worst is over. You’ve told them the situation now and your mum has to accept we’re a couple.’
‘That may be so, but she’s taken it badly, and Mum lets stuff fester.’
‘I doubt she was that upset,’ I pointed out gently. ‘Once she’d got over the hysterics, I mean.’
‘I’m not convinced,’ Tom sighed. ‘You know Mum as well as I do, and she’s a determined woman. She was not happy at all.’
I lay down flat again and stared up at the ceiling, my guts twisting in annoyance. ‘I’m a determined woman too. If she wants to lock horns over this, I’m ready for it.’
‘There’s no need for you to get into any spats with her,’ Tom said, a little sternly. I bristled at his patronising tone, the same one I’d heard Jill use on many occasions, and opened my mouth to retaliate, but then decided against it. I didn’t want an argument in our first few hours of married life together. ‘I know she has no choice but to accept we’re married now, but I still worry about her well-being. She’s stuck in that house with Dad and his snide comments. I don’t want to do anything to make things worse for her.’
I swallowed down the bitter laugh that rose in my throat. If we started doing everything for Jill’s benefit, there would be no point in being together in the first place.
‘Me and your mum have known each other a long time and I thought a little gathering would help our families heal together.’
He thought for a moment and I felt his arm soften slightly next to me. I pursed my lips towards him and he kissed them.
‘If you think she’d go for it, then I’ll trust your judgement. You’re a generous person, Mrs Billinghurst, I’ll give you that.’
I laughed. ‘Mrs Billinghurst, I love it! Will I ever get used to it, I wonder?’
‘You’d better.’ He made a grab for me. ‘Because it will be your name for life.’
I pushed him away playfully. ‘No time for more hanky-panky yet, Romeo. Coral and my grandson will be here in half an hour. Let’s get sorted for the next mountain to climb.’
I sat up and slid my legs over the side of the bed but there was no movement from Tom. I looked back at him over my shoulder. His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed.
I knew he was nervous about meeting Ellis and also Coral for the first time since Jesse’s death. I felt nervous too, because there was nobody more important in my life than my grandson. No one at all.
It was imperative the two of them got along, even if it took a while.
* * *
I got dressed and went downstairs to make some coffee. I sprang back from the kitchen window when two familiar figures appeared in front of the house, fifteen minutes earlier than I’d expected. ‘They’re here,’ I called upstairs.
Tom came down immediately and walked with me to the front door, brushing down his jeans with his hands and smoothing back his hair after his shower. I opened the door and we waited together in the hallway, watching their hesitant approach.
‘Hi, Coral.’ I greeted her and stood aside while she stepped into the hallway. Ellis hung back and stood on the path, scuffing up the gravel with the toes of the new Converse trainers I’d bought him last week. Tom and Coral had attended the same school, so they knew each other well enough. I figured there was no need for introductions.
‘Hello, Coral,’ Tom said, taking the lead.
Turning her back on him, Coral shrugged off a short cream padded coat. Underneath she wore a pink velour lounge suit with diamanté detail on a feature pocket. It didn’t suit her; she’d got so skinny lately. She was short in stature and liked to wear her blonde hair with the dark roots purposely on show. Her eyebrows were too thick and dark for her thin, pale face, and when I saw her like this, I always wondered what Jesse had seen in her.
Tom held out his hand. ‘Long time no see.’
Coral’s whole face seemed to sag for a moment before she collected herself.
‘Hello,’ she said stiffly, but she ignored his proffered hand.
She had made no secret of the fact that she didn’t approve of my decision to marry Tom. I’d told her about a week ago, before the two of us sat Ellis down together to explain it to him. I’d known she would probably find my decision difficult, but I’d been shocked at the look of horror on her face when I broke the news.
‘How could you?’ she’d hissed. ‘After what Tom Billinghurst did to Jesse? After what he did to me and to Ellis!’
I hadn’t expected her blessing straight away. She was bound to feel resentful of the man who’d taken her partner and Ellis’s father away. But she wasn’t the brightest spark, and wouldn’t have grasped the reasoning behind my marrying him. There had seemed no real point in bothering to fully explain it to her, nor had I attempted to explain the restorative justice programme I’d been involved in with Tom.
Now, she was being hostile to my new husband, and I felt my face tighten.
I watched as Tom shifted uncomfortably and pressed his back against the wall. Before they’d arrived, he had asked me if he should apologise to Coral for his actions on the night Jesse died, but I’d said that wasn’t necessary. ‘I’m Jesse’s mother and you’ve apologised to me. That’s all that matters. Coral might have been pregnant with Jesse’s child, but they weren’t that close. Not really.’
‘Go through and sit down, Coral, I’ll bring you a coffee,’ I said, trying not to sound dismissive but she wasn’t my priority. I turned at a noise on the doorstep and instantly brightened. ‘Here he is, the light of my life! Ellis, this is Tom. Tom, this is my grandson, Ellis.’
Ellis stood very still in the doorway, sullen and silent. His shoulders were hunched, his expression dark and dangerous. He looked so much like Jesse when he was in this mood, my heart squeezed in on itself.
When I’d sat down with Coral to tell Ellis about marrying Tom, he’d barely said a word.
‘How do you feel about what I’ve just told you?’ I’d pressed him for a response, but he had simply shrugged.
‘Your nan has married Tom and that means he’ll be coming to live here.’ Coral had spelled it out to him. ‘When you visit the house, he’ll probably be around.’
‘Nobody is going to force you to spend any time with him,’ I’d added, slightly annoyed that Coral seemed to be painting the worst picture possible to Ellis. ‘But I hope in time you two will find a way to get on.’
Ellis had wriggled in his seat. But I took the fact that he hadn’t had a meltdown or ranted and raved as a positive. Seeing his face now, though, I wondered if I’d been naïve to think that.
‘Hello, Ellis,’ Tom said, again offering his hand.
Ellis instantly sneered at the gesture and turned his whole body away from Tom.
‘Ellis! Shake Tom’s hand,’ I snapped without thinking. Softer then, I added, ‘We talked about this, remember?’
‘It’s fine,’ Tom said. He nodded to the Nintendo Switch in Ellis’s hand. ‘I see you’re a bit of a gamer, Ellis.’
Ellis glared at me. ‘I’m going through to Mum. There’s a funny smell out here.’ He wrinkled his nose at Tom and pushed past, purposely knocking him with his shoulder.
‘Ellis!’ My face burned.
‘Let him go, it’s fine.’ Tom laid a calming hand on my shoulder. ‘It’s no big deal. We just have to give it time.’
I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. ‘When I told him about us, he seemed OK about it.’
‘It’s one thing talking about it, another thing to actuall
y face it,’ Tom said gently. ‘He’s young, Brid, cut him some slack. You can’t expect him to be all jolly, that’s unrealistic.’
‘You’re very wise.’ I rested my head on his shoulder. ‘And kind, too. Coral’s probably been bad-mouthing us for Ellis to openly be such a little shit like this.’
We both looked up sharply at a muffled noise. Ellis hadn’t gone through to the living room after all. Instead, he’d lingered by the door and had heard everything we’d said.
‘I might be a little shit,’ he shouted, his features twisted, his eyes wet, ‘but at least I’m not a murderer like him.’ His head swivelled towards Tom, his eyes burning like lasers. ‘He killed my dad and I HATE HIM!’
‘Ellis, stop. Please … wait!’ I rushed towards him, but he ran into the living room and slammed the door behind him, his yelling still ringing in my ears.
Tom laid his hand on my arm. ‘He’ll soon calm down,’ he said.
Coral appeared a few moments later, her pale mouth set in a tight line.
‘I think it’s best I take Ellis home,’ she said in a tone that smacked of ‘I knew this would happen’.
‘What?’ I said, instantly alarmed. ‘No, you can’t do that! We have to work through this, Coral. It’s important.’
‘He needs time to get his head around this, Bridget. We both do.’ She glanced at Tom’s feet, unable to acknowledge any more of him.
I stared at her, speechless. I’d never seen her take a stance like this before. Not against me, at least. Coral needed me. Everything she had was because of me.
I came to my senses. ‘He’s my grandson and I want him to stay. He needs to get to know who Tom is, see he’s not the monster you’ve probably made him out to be.’
Coral laughed. A hard, hacking sound. ‘I think he’s got a good grasp of that already, without my interference. Tom killed his father, for God’s sake! Don’t you see, it’s cruel to do this to him? Our lives will never be the same because of him.’ She spat out the word, unable to keep the hatred from her eyes. Tom faltered, didn’t know where to look.
‘Coral!’ I grabbed her arm and she instantly shook me off.
‘No, Bridget. This is wrong. What you’ve done, marrying him, it’s wrong and you’re completely blind to it.’ She looked over her shoulder and called, ‘Ellis?’
Ellis slouched in the doorway, his shoulders relaxed. He was looking at the floor, seemingly more contrite now.
‘Come on, let’s get you home,’ Coral said. ‘Say bye to your nan.’
‘Bye, Nan,’ Ellis mumbled, his eyes still firmly trained on the carpet.
I steeled myself. ‘I’m warning you, Coral, you do this and—’
‘And what? What will you do? You can’t hurt us more than you already have, bringing him back into our lives.’ She bustled Ellis to the door and then they were gone and I was left standing in the echoing hallway with Tom.
I looked down at my hands and saw they were shaking. ‘I can’t believe she just spoke to me like that.’
‘Come on, let’s sit you down,’ Tom said, leading me into the living room. ‘This is supposed to be a happy time for us. She had no right to have a go at you like that, especially in front of Ellis.’
‘She wouldn’t have survived without me, do you know that? She was pregnant and had nothing but her benefits and a nasty damp bedsit. I won’t let her take my grandson away from me. He’s all I have left, he’s—’
‘Bridget, calm down. It’s OK. Nobody’s going to take Ellis away.’ He wrapped his arms around me. ‘This is a knee-jerk reaction, Coral will calm down when she gets home and reflects on the things she’s said.’
I didn’t answer for a moment. When I did speak, my voice was devoid of emotion, as if it belonged to someone else.
‘She’d better calm down, because she’s got a whole load of trouble coming if she tries to keep Ellis away from me.’
I forced myself to breathe and wiggled my clenched jaw to release it. When I looked up, I saw Tom watching me with a strange look on his face.
‘What?’ I said, feeling heat in my face.
‘Nothing.’ He laced his fingers and looked down at his hands. ‘I can see how much she winds you up.’
‘She’ll live to regret it if she keeps this attitude up.’ I took a breath and tried to calm down a little. ‘If she tries to keep me away from Ellis, she’s heading for a very dark place. She’ll wish she never crossed me.’
Eighteen
Jill
Three days later, I stood in the kitchen making myself an omelette. Robert said he’d grab something later because he had counselling appointments booked in until 6.30.
I cracked the eggs into a jug, added salt and pepper and a dash of milk. I picked up a fork intending to whisk the mixture but found myself instead staring out of the kitchen window at the silver birch at the bottom of the garden. It was a sapling when Robert had planted it twenty-odd years ago. Now it towered there, regal and strong. Almost as tall as the house itself.
Tom had always loved that tree. When there was a full moon, the spot where it stood in the garden was a magnet for the ethereal light. Tom would sometimes wrap a quilt around himself and sit on the back doorstep, entranced and slightly terrified by the luminous trunk that Robert had once told him was made of bone. I’d threaten, beg and finally manage to coerce him back inside to bed with the promise of cocoa and a biscuit.
Those were the days when I still had influence in his life. Still had the power to protect him.
I glanced at my phone, feeling a compulsion to check Bridget’s social media accounts again. There had been nothing else since the Facebook photograph of their wedding, and I felt desperate to see more of that day. At the same time, I dreaded seeing my son’s handsome face plastered all over social media.
We’d heard nothing from Tom all weekend. I didn’t have his mobile phone number and I hadn’t a clue where they were living. I’d thought about contacting Bridget directly on Messenger. Asking to meet up and speak to her, find out more about the wedding. See the photos. Ask questions and find out what was in her head.
I tore my eyes away from the phone. I’d been checking it all morning and it was making me feel sick inside. Still, I’d used my time well this past couple of days. I’d had a bit of a brainwave and researched something online. I’d made comprehensive notes to discuss with Tom when I got a chance.
All at once, my throat felt swollen, clogged up with all the things I wanted to say, wanted to scream. I wanted Tom to see what she was doing, to shatter the spell she seemed to have cast on him.
When he was growing up, she’d always had this way of turning his head – in an innocent way back then, of course. We ran a more ordered house here, and whenever Tom was challenged about his behaviour, we got the retort ‘Bridget lets Jesse do this’ or ‘Bridget doesn’t moan at Jesse about that’. Tidying his room, doing his homework, eating and drinking at the table rather than in front of the television – the list went on. He wasn’t exaggerating. I’d seen Bridget’s non-existent parenting for myself. Treating the two boys like her mates when they were round there, letting them scoff crisps and biscuits before tea, the sort of thing most parents tried to avoid.
One time I’d forgotten to pack Tom’s pyjamas in his rucksack, so I popped around there to drop them off. The living room curtains were open and I peeked in before ringing the bell. The three of them were sitting together on the sofa, howling with laughter at some childish cartoon they were watching. South Park, I remember it was called. I’d never heard of it at the time, but Bridget obviously had and was laughing just as hard as the boys she was supposed to be in charge of.
Now, she was acting as if she was in her late twenties too. Marrying a boy young enough to be her son, dressing inappropriately for her age.
What did Tom see in her? Did he look at her and see that young mum who used to be so much fun when his own mother was a bit stuffy?
It was embarrassing and stomach-churning. Most of all, it was terrifying. She
’d already somehow convinced him to marry her – what might she convince him to do next? How easy would it be for her to lead him astray and end up ruining him?
I forced my attention back to the eggs.
Robert thought I was in denial, I knew that. I accepted Tom was a grown man and that I couldn’t run his life any more, but I also knew something else. I knew Bridget Wilson had the power and, I feared, the intention to devastate my son’s second chance at life.
Nobody knew her like I did. Only I understood that she’d stop at nothing to achieve her goals. It was what she had in mind that I had to somehow figure out.
To give her credit, when Jesse was young, she had always worked two or more cleaning or shop jobs to try and make ends meet. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to say that at that point in time, when we met, she was a struggling single mother with zero sign of a rosy future ahead of her.
Yet within a short time of getting to know her, I’d seen glimpses of her iron will, an unshakeable belief in the future. I think that deep down I knew, even back then, she would make something of herself in order to carve out a better future for her and Jesse.
I was in a different position when our boys were young. I never really gave it much thought at the time, but now I can see I had an altogether more comfortable life that I largely took for granted. A nice house bought prior to a property boom in a respected part of town, an architect husband back then who worked hard and reaped the benefits of a very good salary, usually with the welcome addition of a juicy annual bonus. For myself, a career I’d happily reduced to part-time hours while Tom was young but that I fully intended returning to full-time at some point when he got to senior school.
In those days, I kept busy. I always seemed to be rushing around, ferrying Tom and Jesse to their various sports clubs and classes whilst Bridget worked her long and often unsociable hours.
When Tom began his lengthy sentence, it blew a very big hole in my life. An all-consuming black hole that swallowed up anything I tried to do to fill it. Nothing held my attention any more. I finished work and for the first couple of years, nothing distracted me from the horror of what had happened. I found it impossible to sit still long enough to watch a programme on television or read more than a few pages of a book.
