The Marriage Act(44)
All these years later and Jeffrey wished he’d been allowed to attend her funeral. But while he’d been recovering in his hospital bed from facial reconstruction surgery, he had been advised by police to stay away. He understood why, but it still wounded. So he’d held his own service instead in a nearby woodland weeks later, sprinkling yellow rose petals in a spot under the tree.
Even now, whenever he passed a florist or a garden and caught the scent of those flowers, he was transported back to the day he’d said his final goodbyes to her. She was the first person he had ever truly loved, and the first person to have broken his heart.
Jeffrey pulled at clumps of overgrown grass and dandelions surrounding her grave, then threw away the decaying flower stalks in the vase, replacing them with a bunch he had purchased earlier.
‘Rosie Morrison’, read the name at the top of the black granite headstone, ‘Forever Loved, Never Forgotten’.
She wouldn’t be forgotten, especially by him. Because you never forget your first love and the first person you killed.
33
Roxi
Darcy was curled up on her bed, her head buried so deep in her pillow Roxi could barely make out her face under the hair covering it. Sometimes Roxi caught herself staring at her daughter and wondering if she had looked like her at that age. But there was so much she had blanked out about her past that she never found an answer.
‘Leave me alone,’ Darcy cried.
‘Tell me what the problem is first, then I’ll go.’
‘You! You’re the problem! Your dumb Vlogs are making my life a misery.’
‘How? I’ve stopped asking for your help because you moaned so much.’
‘Kids at school keep picking on me because of the stupid stuff you’re saying. Like last night when you posted that AI should be used to monitor every phone belonging to under-eighteens, that what we do should be tracked and then reported back to our parents.’
Roxi processed what this meant. ‘So kids your age are watching my Vlogs?’
‘Yes. And now they’re accusing me of wanting to take away their freedom. Everyone says you’re going to ruin it for us all and they’re blaming me.’
‘Well,’ Roxi said, letting out a puff of air, ‘I didn’t expect that. I hoped that my relatable content might reach the 18–34 demographic, but an even younger bracket is perfect.’
‘Mum! You’re missing the point.’
‘No, darling, I get it, I really do. But if they’re listening, I need to start targeting them. I’m going downstairs to start brainstorming ideas while you make a note of brands they love so I can start approaching PRs.’
Roxi left the room and seconds later heard the slamming of Darcy’s bedroom door. Teenagers were irrational and emotional and this outburst was probably hormone-related. She’d give her daughter a few moments alone.
But before Roxi reached the stairs, she had a better idea. She grabbed a packet of wet wipes from the bathroom cabinet and rubbed her face until it was bare, then hurried into the garden and held her phone in front of her face.
The first few seconds of footage were of a silent Roxi shaking her head. ‘I am so upset that I don’t know how to put this into words,’ she eventually began. ‘My beautiful, kind, caring, considerate daughter Darcy has just returned home from school, hysterical, because she is being bullied by the kids she thought were her friends. These children – your children – and our country’s next generation – are bullying a twelve-year-old girl because of me. Because her mother dares to lift her head above the parapet to offer an opinion. I’ve always instilled in Darcy that she should never be afraid to have a voice, not to allow anyone to silence her truths, to stand up and be counted. And now she is upstairs sobbing her eyes out because small-minded parents have told their children that it’s acceptable to silence a point of view if you don’t agree with it.
‘I’m sure there are some of you out there saying, “If you care that much, then why don’t you just shut up and stop Vlogging?” But what will I be teaching her about what it is to be a woman if I do that? My wonderful, loyal followers are allowing me to live my dream of being an Influencer. But first and foremost, my job will always be to try and influence Darcy. If I censor myself and allow the bullies to win, how will I ever be able to look her in the eye again? I love her too much to do that.
‘What her classmates have been doing is further proof of what I’ve been posting recently. If our homes and wearable technology recorded everything we said, this wouldn’t have happened. Either her bullies would stop to think of the consequences before they acted, or their parents would be informed and obligated to punish them. I firmly believe their texts and emails should be monitored too. This is not about Big Brother listening and watching us to keep us in line, or a social oppression or whatever other buzzwords you might want to use. This is about protecting those we hold closest to our hearts. Our babies.’
‘You’ll use anyone to get what you want, won’t you?’ said Owen, startling her.
She fumbled with her phone until she found the stop button.
He was standing by the patio doors, his face like thunder. ‘Exploiting our daughter’s pain is disgusting. You’re disgusting.’
‘That’s unfair. I’m trying to lead by example and show her that I’m a strong wom—’