The Marriage Act(100)

85


Corrine




Corrine wheeled three decrepit office chairs across the concrete floor of the warehouse. This last remaining undemolished building in New Northampton’s Brackmills Industrial Estate was empty. Through a broken window, she could see where workers had begun constructing a wall to separate the Old part of town from where another estate of houses was to be built for Smart married couples.

Corrine leaned forward and placed a hand on the shoulder of the young man sitting between her and Yan who had driven them there.

‘It’s good to see you, Nathan,’ Corrine said. ‘I’ve been so worried about you. The hospital wouldn’t tell me anything.’

‘It’s okay, thanks for thinking of me.’

‘Were you questioned about what happened to you?’

‘Two blokes came to talk to me a couple times when I regained consciousness but I said I didn’t remember anything.’

‘The police?’ asked Yan.

‘They spoke like coppers but they avoided answering the question when I asked them. I kept telling them the last thing I recalled was leaving a function I was waitering at before everything started spinning. I assume they believed me because I didn’t see them again.’

‘I’m so sorry for everything that happened,’ said Corrine. ‘I only wish I could have reached Harrison’s flat sooner.’

‘It’s not your fault. I think she micro-dosed me when she bought me a beer at the bar because I was already feeling a bit out of it when we reached her flat. If I was thinking straight, I wouldn’t have accepted the second drink. It wasn’t long after that I was fully out of it.’

‘And how are you now? Have there been any lasting effects?’

Nathan shook his head. ‘No. What about Harrison? I saw pictures of her injuries and what I did to her. I’m so ashamed.’

‘Trust me, you have nothing to be ashamed of. She lied about most of them for public sympathy.’

‘Really?’ Nathan closed his eyes and offered a long, relieved breath. ‘Can I see the video? Yan says Freedom for All won’t be using it.’

Corrine hesitated as her conscience reared its head. She could lie and say she had deleted it. But they deserved her honesty, no matter how bad a picture the truth might paint of her. Only when she’d finished filling them in did she lift her eyes from the floor and dare to look to Yan and Nathan for their reaction. ‘I’m sorry,’ she added. ‘I was desperate and it was selfish and now I’ve ruined any leverage we had over her.’

‘I’d have done the same,’ Yan admitted. ‘But I can’t say everyone else at the FFA will agree with us.’

‘What if I go on the record and tell the media what she did to me?’ asked Nathan.

‘As much as I would like to believe the truth will out, we live in morally bankrupt times. It’s her word over yours. And who are people going to believe? A respected MP or a teenager? Plus you’d be contradicting FFA as it claimed we had no involvement in it. No one is going to come out of this smelling of roses.’

‘So there’s nothing to stop her from doing this again to others?’

Corrine shook her head slowly. ‘No. There’s not.’

A hush fell across the warehouse until a voice came from the doorway.

‘There might be another way for you to expose her,’ it began. All three turned quickly to face their uninvited guest. ‘And, if it works, it’ll destroy her.’





86


Roxi




‘Do you miss posting on social media?’ asked Owen suddenly. He picked at a plate of blackberries and blueberries as Roxi placed the tablet she was surfing face up on the sofa. Never hold a conversation with the world in your hands, their Relationship Responder Adrian had advised them. As much as she wanted to forget about the whole experience, some of his advice stuck to her like burned pasta at the bottom of a pan.

‘No, I don’t really miss it,’ she lied. ‘It was fun while it lasted.’

‘Not even a little bit?’

‘That part of my life is over.’

‘But it meant so much to you.’

‘Not as much as my family does.’

Owen’s gratified expression told her it had been the right thing to say and he returned to watching his football match on the television.

Roxi didn’t mention that while she had placed blocks on her phone and tablet preventing her from accessing her former accounts, she had only suspended them and not closed them completely. She was not yet ready to take that final step. Her former career was now a ghost roaming the halls of the internet, waiting for her to return or to act as an exorcist and hit the delete button.

‘I still keep getting invitations to be a talking head,’ she added. ‘I turned down another request for a podcast interview this morning.’

‘Really?’ said Owen, surprised. ‘I assumed interest in you would’ve faded by now.’

‘I guess I made more of a lasting impression than I thought.’

‘I’m sure they’ll forget about you soon enough.’

He hadn’t said it unkindly, but it still smarted.

‘I’m going to put those away,’ she said, pointing to a basket of freshly laundered clothing in the corner of the room. All this time to fill meant a t-shirt barely graced the bottom of the wash bin before it ended up in a spin cycle. The swap from Influencer to housewife made her weep if she thought too much about it.