“You no-name trollop.” Hazel Palmer’s strident tones ripped into Abby. “You tricked my son into marriage by getting pregnant. He never should have taken that posting to
“Robbie and I loved each other,” Abby yelled back.
“Stop this shouting.” Bob Palmer’s cold voice sliced into the fraught atmosphere of the kitchen. “I will not tolerate it.”
“I want this tramp out of my house.” Hazel marched around the kitchen like a demented witch.
“Lower your voices,” Bob growled. “The neighbors might hear you.”
“And we couldn’t have that,” Abby shrilled. “They might find out how you treat your son’s widow.”
“You listen, my girl.” Bob grabbed her by the arm, his fingers pinching her skin as he shook her. She would have bruises on her arm tomorrow.
“If you don’t like it here in
you can leave,” he continued his eyes hard and pitiless. “But Rosie stays with us.” England