Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

probably ask why I couldn’t be more like my sister. He often did, even though I
was not the one who ruined her life by getting pregnant and having to rely on the
rest of the family for financial support and babysitting. You weren’t allowed to
say anything like that in our house because, according to my mother, it was like
implying that Thomas wasn’t a blessing. And all babies were God’s blessing,
even those who said bugger quite a lot, and whose presence meant that half the
potential wage earners in our family couldn’t actually go and get a decent job.
I would not be able to tell them the truth. I knew I owed Will and his family
nothing, but I wouldn’t inflict the curious gaze of the neighbourhood on him.
All these thoughts tumbled around my head as I got off the bus and walked
down the hill. And then I got to the corner of our road and heard the shouting,
felt the slight vibration in the air, and it was all briefly forgotten.
A small crowd had gathered around our house. I picked up my pace, afraid
that something had happened, but then I saw my parents on the porch, peering
up, and realized it wasn’t our house at all. It was just the latest in a long series of
small wars that characterized our neighbours’ marriage.
That Richard Grisham was not the most faithful of husbands was hardly news
in our street. But judging by the scene in his front garden, it might have been to
his wife.
‘You must have thought I was bloody stupid. She was wearing your T-shirt!
The one I had made for you for your birthday!’
‘Baby … Dympna … it’s not what you think.’
‘I went in for your bloody Scotch eggs! And there she was, wearing it! Bold
as brass! And I don’t even like Scotch eggs!’
I slowed my pace, pushing my way through the small crowd until I was able
to get to our gate, watching as Richard ducked to avoid a DVD player. Next
came a pair of shoes.
‘How long have they been at it?’
My mother, her apron tucked neatly around her waist, unfolded her arms and
glanced down at her watch. ‘It’s a good three-quarters of an hour. Bernard,
would you say it’s a good three-quarters of an hour?’
‘Depends if you time it from when she threw the clothes out or when he came
back and found them.’
‘I’d say when he came home.’