Unspoken: A story of secrets, love and revenge by T. Belshaw (i want to read a book .TXT) 📕

at her flat, via the wine shop, thinking it was high time she provided the alcoholic stimulation for once, only to find a hastily scrawled note pinned to her front door. The note was folded in two and flapped about in the stiff breeze. He put down his shopping bag, pulled out the drawing pin that held the note to the door and read.

Sorry, babe. No fun tonight. Have been called into work. I’m in the café tomorrow at twelve if you want to catch up.

Tania

Calvin kicked the door in frustration and hurled a torrent of abuse at the note that was now in a dozen pieces, swirling around on the pavement.

He dropped the bag containing the wine into the back seat of his car and drove it to the rear of the Venetian, where he parked up, then he stood in the lobby of the restaurant and peered through the glass panes on the door to see if he could spot her. The place was busy, especially for a Thursday, then he spotted the two for one meal offer stuck to the wall and realised why it had suddenly become so popular.

Calvin strolled down past the Uni building to the Hand and Heart pub, where he downed several pints whilst chatting up a crowd of female students who seemed intent on extending Fresher’s week into a month-long jamboree.

After collecting two or three mobile numbers for future reference, he left the pub at ten forty-five and walked back through the town until he got back to the Venetian. He had chosen his parking spot well, and sat with the air conditioning running to keep the windscreen free of mist while he kept his eye on the restaurant.

The last of the customer couples left at eleven-thirty. By midnight the lights were switched off one by one, and a small stream of waitresses, mostly students, supplementing their loans with poorly paid, hospitality work, left the restaurant. There was no sign of Tania. At twelve-fifteen the last of the lights went out, and two figures stood in the lobby while the taller of the pair locked the doors. As they walked out into the street lighting, Calvin spotted Tania, laughing and joking with an older man, who he recognised as the manager of the Venetian. He waited until they had turned the corner, then he got out of the car and ran to the point where the car park entrance met the High Street. He shielded his eyes from the glare of the street lights and watched them cross the road in front of the café where he had first met Tania. He sprinted to the safety of a bus shelter and saw them approach Tania’s flat. She pulled the keys from her bag and opened the door, but instead of saying goodnight, she took his hand and led him inside.

Calvin waited for over an hour for him to come back out, but by one-thirty, the manager still hadn’t surfaced. Admitting defeat, he walked slowly back to his car, seething about his wasted night. He visualised what the pair were doing inside the flat, and wondered if he was performing better than he had himself. The tight bastard hadn’t even taken any wine with him. Maybe that was because it was a regular appointment on the nights that she worked. Maybe she got a bit extra in her pay packet for services rendered. He would tell the slut what he thought of her the next time they met. As he drove past the darkened café, he knew when that would be, and where.

Chapter 81

Jess

On Thursday afternoon, Jess gave Alice her antibiotic and settled down for another reading session.

‘Where have we got up to now, Jessica?’ Alice asked.

‘We’re just about to start December, nineteen thirty-eight, Nana. We’re getting to the end of this volume now.’

‘I don’t really want to listen to that part at the moment, dear. Do you mind reading that alone, then telling me what you think afterwards? I’m rather tired.’ She settled back in her cushions and stared at the clock.

Jess snapped the book shut. ‘I’ll read to myself later. Would you like the radio in the background while you have a nap? I’ll do a bit of prep work on my new article before I go to see Ewan tomorrow.’

Jess switched the station to Radio Three, there was a Vaughan Williams concert playing. She turned down the volume, pulled the laptop out of her bag and set it up on the coffee table.

Women in Africa. Changing Aspirations.

Alice opened one eye, took in the situation, then closed it again and concentrated on the music. She had always liked Vaughan Williams.

After dinner that evening, Gwen washed up the plates while Jess got Alice into bed. There was no two ways about it, she had come on in leaps and bounds over the last twenty-four hours. She wasn’t as worried about leaving her when she went to meet Ewan tomorrow. She might even spend Friday night at home. She decided to make up her mind after she heard what the doctor thought about things. He was due to call tomorrow morning, after surgery. She really would like to catch up with Calvin though. The poor man must have been feeling so alone recently. He had been really understanding yesterday. She smiled at the thought of him doing the washing on his own, and sent him a quick text message to say she’d probably be home earlier than expected. At seven-thirty, she sat down with Alice to continue the memoir.

Alice yawned and blinked a few times, as Jess opened the journal.

‘I think being up and about today has caught up with me. I wouldn’t mind an early night. Could I have my sleeping pill now, please, Jessica? I’ll let you read the last part on your own. I’d like your opinion on it. Not tonight though. There’ll be plenty of time, tomorrow.’

Jess gave Alice the pill with a sip of water and