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

for sure,’ she winked again. ‘Or is this just to impress me.’

‘I use the Cellar a lot,’ Calvin answered, defensively.

‘I’m sure you do,’ said Tania. ‘I’m only pulling your leg, Calvin.’

Calvin sat next to her on the sofa and stroked one of her long, shapely thighs.

‘So, who was he?’

‘Calvin, you’re getting boring now, leave it alone will you?’

He couldn’t.

‘It’s just that, well… You dressed like that when there’s a bloke in the flat.’

Tania looked down at her chest. ‘I always dress like this when I’m home, it saves a fortune on the launderette.’

Calvin rubbed his chin. ‘I was beginning to wonder if…’ he broke off.

‘You wondered if I was on the game?’ Tania glared at him.

‘No! No, nothing like that, I just… well, I wasn’t expecting to see another man here, that’s all.’

Tania brushed away Calvin’s wandering hand and got to her bare feet.

‘I don’t see why you deserve an explanation, Calvin, I’ve only known you for two minutes, but, as it happens, that was my ex.’

‘Your ex, why was he—’

‘He was trying to borrow money. He has recently developed a drug habit which is why we broke up,’ said Tania. ‘Now, is that enough for you, or do you want to follow him out of the door?’

Calvin shook his head, slowly. ‘I’m just fine where I am, thank you.’

After the meal, Calvin topped up Tania’s wine glass again but didn’t bother with his own.

‘Are you trying to get me drunk?’ she asked with a giggle. ‘If so, you’ve succeeded.’

‘We’ve still got half a bottle to go yet,’ replied Calvin. ‘What do you think, nice, isn’t it?’

‘It’s very nice. Much better than the Asda fiver specials I usually drink.’ She smiled at him. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll bring a different vintage next time. Wine is my thing. Do you like red?’ he asked.

‘I like anything as long as it’s alcoholic.’ Tania giggled again. She looked at Calvin seductively, undid her shirt again, pushed Calvin back onto the sofa and straddled him. ‘The wine has gone straight to my head, let’s see if it’s gone straight to yours.’ She undid his belt, the top button of his jeans and carefully eased down his zip. ‘Oh, I see it’s gone straight to yours too. Goody.’

Chapter 38

Jess

Alice hadn’t been joking about the lumpy mattress. Jess wondered how old it was. Every time she turned over another spring pinged out of place. Eventually she found a more comfortable spot right in the centre of the double bed. It sank in alarmingly when she rolled onto it but at least the springs stayed quiet.

She lay on her back and made patterns out of the cracks in the ceiling plaster. She was sure there was a face up there looking down at her. Jess twisted her body and heard another spring go ping. How old was this bloody mattress? She wondered if it was the same one that Alice had lain on as a worried, pregnant eighteen-year-old, wrapped up in Frank’s reassuring arms. It couldn’t be that old, surely? Mattresses didn’t last that long.

Jess got up twice in the night to check on Alice, but she needn’t have bothered. She hadn’t moved from when she first fell asleep and she was breathing softly and regularly.

She was still fast asleep when Jess got up at five-thirty. The mattress had finally beaten her. She showered, dressed into the clothes from her overnight bag, cleaned her teeth, and dragged her long-suffering hairbrush through her tangled mass of curls, then went downstairs to make tea.

To her surprise, Gwen was in the kitchen, wiping down the surfaces with a new kitchen cloth dampened with an anti-bacterial spray.

‘Gwen, whatever are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.’

‘Hello, Jessica, did you sleep well? I’ve checked in on Alice, she’s fast asleep still.’

‘Yes, I looked in too, but what are you doing here, Gwen? I said come in late.’

‘I just wanted to be here, in case I was needed,’ Gwen replied. ‘Would you like an early breakfast? I’ll do Alice’s later.’

‘No, it’s too early for me,’ said Jess. ‘I was just going to make tea. Would you like one too?’

Gwen grabbed the kettle before Jess could get anywhere near it.

‘I’ll do it,’ she said.

Jess sat with Gwen at the kitchen table, drinking tea and chatting about Gwen’s other clients, all of whom had now claimed the epithet of ‘poor thing’.

At six forty-five, Jess allowed Gwen to check on Alice. She was awake and sitting up in bed, demanding tea.

While Gwen made a fresh brew, Jess stepped brightly into the lounge. ‘Good morning, Nana. I hope you slept well. I checked on you twice and you hadn’t moved an inch.’

Alice yawned. ‘The pills did the trick. They always do,’ she said.

Jess gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek. ‘We seem to have a problem. There are two of us vying to get you up to the shower this morning. Shall we toss a coin, draw lots, or fight to the death for the honour?’

‘Let Gwen take me up, Jessica. She was rather put out last night when you said you’d get me ready for bed. She needs to feel wanted.’

‘I know, Nana, I was only joking. I was going to suggest it myself.’

When Gwen came in with tea, Jess asked her if she would take care of Alice while she answered some urgent emails. Gwen tried to hide her delight.

‘Of course, yes, of course I will, It’s what I’m here for.’

Jess settled down on the sofa and checked her phone for messages. There was nothing from Calvin but she did have an email from The Feminist Age, editor, Melanie, querying whether Jess was interested in the African assignment. She replied that she would like to do a little research and would let her know by the end of the week.

Next, she sent a text to Calvin.

Hope you enjoyed your boozy night. See you later today. Love you. Jess.

When Gwen had gone, Jess sat in her usual armchair, opposite Alice, and