Free Facebook's Lost Love by Ron Shillingford Page B

suspect. Melanie’s hobbling was explained away as
a pulled thigh muscle or severe cramp from a gym session.
    Only Connie knew about Paul’s violence.
“Divorce his ass and you’ll get half his estate, like Eddie Murphy
says in ‘Raw’,” Connie advised. Twice divorced herself, her
lifestyle reflected the substantial settlements from wealthy
exes.
    Paul’s jealousy was getting worse. He
regularly checked her mobile and her desktop computer which Melanie
rarely used; but he didn’t know she had created a new email account
and joined Facebook in her maiden name, using a laptop to contact
Justin.
    She felt that the thrill of it all was worth
the risk.
    “Facebook is a great way of finding out what
people from the past are doing, Connie. Like Joan Powell. She
married four times and had six kids before giving up on men and
becoming a social worker. That weirdo Robert Pritchett turned out
to be a paedophile, Fred Solomon won three million on the lottery
and left his family for a bimbo, which only lasted as long as it
took her to fleece him of all of it.”

    “I know Facebook can be fun but there is a
downside to it, sweetie. This business with Justin isn’t good.
Considering Paul’s traits I think you’re treading on very dangerous
waters.”
    “He makes me feel like I’m walking on water
in a way Paul doesn’t. Justin still works in the library. He’s
invited me to Orpington and I’m going dear. Told Paul it’s to visit
my sister Gilda who I haven’t seen for years. I really am staying
with her, actually. Paul was funny about it at first but seems fine
now.”
    Connie was worried. “He would literally kill
you if he found out.”
    Melanie laughed. “The only way he could was
if you let me down Connie. You wouldn’t like blood on your hands,
would you?”
    “I don’t know how you could be so blasé. Be
careful, Mel. We all love you.”
    “Relax Connie. It’s just a bit of fun,
catching up on old times, not rekindling a past romance.”
    “Hope he doesn’t think you’re that Bond
character, Pussy Galore.” They laughed.
    Then Connie got serious again. “Librarians
have a reputation for being dull so even with Paul’s aggression
surely it’s not worth losing your marriage over.”
    “In this case you only live twice. At times
Paul is Dr No go.”
    At Gatwick airport Justin met Melanie with a
bunch of red roses in one hand and the latest John Grisham novel in
the other. Over dressed in tuxedo and bow tie, at a distance he
could pass for James Bond on a very bad day. Or an unemployed
waiter.
    “Wow Justin, you didn’t have to go to so much
trouble.”
    “You’re worth it, Miss Moneypenny. I was
shaken and stirred when I saw you on Facebook.”
    Justin dropped Melanie off at Gilda’s, who
like her sister had escaped the restrictive walls of 43 Oakhampton
Avenue and was living well as a solicitor with a husband who
managed a florist shop. Life for them was rosy.
    The week spent in Orpington went too fast for
Melanie’s liking. She caught up with family and friends and Justin
was a great companion. Still passionate about books, Melanie found
herself being drawn to him again as they enthused over their
favourite authors, critiqued books that had gone into film and the
emerging ebook and Kindle market and how it was changing readers’
habits and the publishing industry.
    Justin was great fun. Less nerdy than she
remembered and being so well-read he seemed to be an expert on a
variety of subjects without getting boring.
    Paul phoned, texted, Skyped, emailed and sent
BlackBerry messages constantly. He was missing her very much, glad
that she was having a great time but there was always an air of
wanting to know her every interaction with men. For once, Paul had
every right to monitor his wife because the old feelings for Justin
were resurfacing.
    The fact that Justin had a fabulous house
helped pique her interest. A lovely Tudor-style detached property
with state-of-the-art fittings, although not as