‘We can’t stop trying.’
‘He deserves to rot in hell, then maybe Mum will see sense!’’
Laura couldn’t speak any more and ended the call. Only yesterday they had planned for their future. Her mum had even talked about coming to look after Tabitha, maybe even live with them.
Inside the library, people just carried on like nothing happened. They couldn’t see each other. They ignored the signs that were all around them. Who else in this room was a victim of domestic violence? Who else cowered before their partners? Who else had their families torn apart?
‘Can you tell me where the cookery section is please?’
Laura felt adrift, like her life raft had been taken away. She was drowning in a sea of her own thoughts. ‘No I can’t! I’m on my break can’t you see that!’
Yesterday could be the last time she saw her mum alive.
‘Well, I must say the staff are rude here.’
‘It’s over in the right-hand corner,’ her manager, Lucy said, appearing out of nowhere. ‘Miss Burrows, could you stop tidying the shelves and take over reception for me?’
She noticed a young child, about three years old holding on to an older woman’s hand, possibly her grandmother’s. How dare they play happy families, when hers was so violently torn apart?