Applause (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 2) by Madalyn Morgan (best authors to read txt) 📕

Bill of that terrible night would persuade him. It didn’t. ‘Hampstead is so far away from everything. Besides,’ she went on, ‘it isn’t fair on you having to wait around for me at night, especially now I’m doing the late spot at the club. Not when you’ve been driving to and from goodness knows where all day for the MoD and been on the ambulances half the night.’

‘I suppose we do live quite a way from where we work,’ Bill conceded. ‘And as much as I don’t want to leave these rooms, because they’re where we began our married life, I suppose it would make sense.’

‘So we’re moving?’

‘We’ll see.’

‘We’ll see? What do you mean, we’ll see? I want to move, Bill. I want us to have a home of our own with our own front door. I want to paint it and buy pretty ornaments and things. I want to be able to nip home and have my tea after the matinee. I want to invite friends for drinks and…’

‘Wow! Slow down, Margot. This is the first I’ve heard of moving and you’re already throwing parties.’

Flushed with anger, Margot put down her knife and fork with a clatter and glared into the mid-distance. She hated it when Bill cut her off, especially when she was saying something important.

Placing his cutlery gently on the table, Bill took hold of Margot’s hands. He waited until she looked at him. Then, when he was sure he had her attention, he said, ‘Anything as important as moving house is something we need to discuss.’

‘We were discussing it!’

‘No Margot, we weren’t. You were telling me what you wanted, assuming I’d agree like I always do. But it isn’t just about moving house. It’s leaving our home. It’s a big step. So, whatever we decide, we’ll decide together when we’ve discussed it properly. It won’t be because you’ve had another crazy idea.’

‘Crazy? It isn’t a crazy idea! What’s crazy about wanting to live with your husband in your own home?’ Margot knew if she pushed Bill too far he would dig his heels in. He could be stubborn sometimes. She softened her tone. ‘At least say you’ll think about it.’

‘I’ll think about it! Now, could we please eat our meal while it’s hot?’

Margot also hated it when Bill patronised her. He was right of course, anything as important as moving home shouldn’t be rushed. But that didn’t stop her asking him every night until he gave in.

‘Have you given any more thought to us getting our own place, love?’

‘Yes I have, but--’ Margot leapt out of her chair. ‘If you let me eat my supper in peace,’ Bill said, ‘I will go and see Anton and Natalie. It’s only fair that we tell them that we’re thinking about moving.’

‘Thinking?’

‘All right! That we might – will – be moving. We’ll start looking in the morning. There’s a notice board at work that advertises apartments--’

Margot squealed with excitement. ‘And there are newspapers.’

‘And there are newspapers,’ Bill repeated. ‘There’s a local one, the Covent Garden News. And there are a couple of letting agencies in Neal Street. I’ll call in tomorrow.’

‘And with me working so near, I can pop in every day.’

‘There are bound to be vacancies. People are moving out of the West End because of the nightly bombing of the East End, which is getting closer.’ Bill looked into Margot’s eyes and shook his head. ‘Who in their right mind would want to live in the West End of London?’

‘Me!’ Margot said, jumping up and throwing her arms around Bill. ‘I want to live there!’

‘I meant other than you, Margot.’

Margot moved her face close to her husband’s until their noses were touching. She gave him several Eskimo kisses before kissing him full on the lips.

That night, after they had made love Margot lay in Bill’s arms, content and sleepy. ‘A place of our own,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you, lovely husband. I’m so happy… You make me so….’

The following night Margot arrived home with newspapers, leaflets, For Sale and For Rent cards that she’d taken from shop windows, promising to return them the following morning, and half a dozen sheets of paper with the address and description of a dozen or more apartments in and around Covent Garden. After supper, she spread them out on the bed while Bill made their bedtime drink.

‘Are you sure you have enough information there, Margot?’ Bill said, handing her a cup of cocoa.

Margot laughed. ‘For now, but I can show you more if you want. I’ve whittled them down to a couple of dozen, so pay attention,’ she said, wagging her finger. ‘These are the possible-stroke-probable apartments. I have a batch of maybe-could-be and another of not-on-your-life in my shopping bag. I wonder if they have carpets and curtains? Probably will,’ she chattered on. ‘We might like them of course, but if we don’t we can change them. Our own little love nest,’ she said, pursing her lips and blowing Bill a kiss. ‘And a bed,’ she said suddenly. ‘I don’t want to sleep in a bed that anyone else has slept in. Will we be able to buy a new bed? I’ve never thought about it before. Are beds rationed?’

‘Someone slept in this bed before we did, and you’ve been happy sleeping in it.’

‘Yes, but this bed is different, we know who slept in it before us, or at least we know it would have been someone clean. In a rented apartment in Covent Garden there’s no telling who has slept in the bed.’ Margot lifted her hand and flicked the possibilities away. ‘No, we’ll have a new bed and that’s that!’

Bill made no further comment. He slipped out of the room, leaving Margot ticking off the good and the bad points of what looked to him like every available flat