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

a few dances, waltzes mainly, although I did get to dance one foxtrot. He commented on how well I danced. He’s a very good dancer. All the other women were staring at us. I think they were jealous of me.’

I thought about the square-chested, white haired builder with the weather-beaten face and smiled to myself. Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder after all.

‘We had tea, lots of it, and cake. They had the daintiest tea cakes and the gateau, I mean, I can make cakes, but this was in a different league. It was like being at the Ritz.’

I thought about the village hall with its rickety old tables and the worn parquet flooring. My parents held their twentieth wedding anniversary celebrations there in 1936. It wasn’t the Ritz by any stretch of the imagination. Then I remembered what a sheltered, lonely life Miriam had led, and mentally ticked myself off for being mean.

‘The band was really good; Michael requested they play Blue Skies, just for us, and we had the floor to ourselves as we danced. They passed a hat around at the end and just about everyone threw some money in. Michael wouldn’t let me get my purse out. He put five shillings in to cover both of us.’

‘Most of the women were older than me, some didn’t have dance partners so the men were eagerly sought out. Michael was asked to dance a few times, but he always refused politely, telling them he was with the only lady he wanted to dance with.’

She blushed at the memory.

‘Careful, Miriam, he’ll have you down the aisle in no time,’ I said, grinning.

‘I wouldn’t mind,’ she said.

‘Miriam! Put up a bit of a fight at least. If you don’t want to play hard to get, at least try to be enigmatic. You have to keep him guessing.’

‘Never let a man think he owns you, because before you know it, he does,’ Elsie said with a knowing look on her face.

‘Don’t worry, I know all about men like that. I was married to one for years. Michael’s not like that,’ Miriam replied.

I thought about Frank, he could be controlling at times. But this morning he had been the epitome of gentleness. Which one was the real Frank? I looked over my raised knees at Edna, who had spent her time crocheting the promised baby shawl. Was he his mother’s son, or his father’s? I’d find out sooner or later, that was for sure.

‘Anyway,’ Miriam continued. ‘After the dance, we got back in his truck and drove over to Engleby, for fish and chips and we sat in the park to eat them. There was no one else there. It was like we were the only people on earth. We talked for ages. He told me all about his wife and I tried not to tell him all about my ex-husband, but he got it out of me anyway. He was so angry. He couldn’t understand how a man could treat the mother of his children like that.’

‘Nor can I,’ said Edna and Elsie at the same time.

I gazed around the kitchen at the three women who were looking after me. All had picked the wrong man. I wondered how it happened. Why did so many of us choose the partner least suited to our personalities? Maybe we were attracted to the strong, silent type. Maybe we needed to feel we were being protected. In my case, and Edna’s, we didn’t really have much say in it. When I looked at the bitterness etched on Elsie’s face, I wondered if she had been left in a similar situation. Was Michael the exception that proved the rule, or were these three women just unlucky? If Frank turned out to be the same as those three men, it would mean that we had a one hundred percent failure record. The odds on that occurring must be impossible. I sighed with relief at that thought.

When I came out of my reverie, Miriam was still talking.

‘So, I took his arm and we had a nice stroll around the lake in the middle of the park, talking as we walked. We’ve got such a lot in common. He likes the same books as me, he likes the songs I like, he’s even a Sagittarius.’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ asked Elsie from between my knees.

‘Well, I’m Aries, and we’re supposed to be a good match… if you believe that sort of thing of course.’

It was obvious that Miriam did believe that sort of thing.

‘My ex-husband was a Leo,’ said Elsie. She straightened up as another contraction hit. ‘Not long now, Alice.’

‘What sign are you,’ asked Edna.

‘Taurus,’ Elsie said, looking at her watch, waiting for me to groan.

‘Taurus and Leo? That’s a match made in hell,’ replied Miriam.

‘Tell me about it,’ said Elsie, gruffly. My next contraction came long and hard. She nodded to herself and checked her watch again. ‘Never marry a Leo. My sister used to tell me that all the time, but did I listen?’

‘I never got to be married,’ said Edna. ‘I’m a Capricorn, he was a Libra. I never knew whether we’d get on or not because he cleared off when he found out I was pregnant. What sign are you, Alice?’

‘Libra, just,’ I said. (My birthday was the twenty-third of September.) ‘Frank’s a Pisces; his birthday was back in March.’

Miriam looked at me in horror, then she patted my hand and went to make more tea.

I didn’t believe in all this astrology nonsense, but after Miriam’s reaction, I made up my mind to look into my star sign’s best and worst matches when I was up and about again.

About an hour later I felt the almost irresistible urge to push.

Elsie, who was by now more familiar with my nether region than I was, began a series of commands. She was so fearsome I doubt any soldier would have hesitated for a split second from going over the top,