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

hearth. I held the baby in the crook of my arm and pushed the other one towards him, palm up. ‘Frank. You’re drunk, you’ll drop her.’

‘I just want to hold her, I’ll be careful.’

I doubted he could safely hold a pint, let alone a new born baby.

‘Tomorrow, Frank, hold her tomorrow,’ I said, trying to calm him.

‘But she won’t be new tomorrow, I’m her father, I want to hold her, she’s half mine.’

The baby decided to take Frank’s side of the argument. She opened her eyes, realised who was holding her, and began to scream the place down. I rocked her ineffectively. When I tried to shush her wailing, she doubled her efforts.

‘I only want to hold my daughter. She’s as much mine as yours. I stood by you all the way along. I’ve done my bit, Alice.’

I almost asked what bit he was doing while I was writhing in agony on the kitchen table, but I doubted he would have heard me over the screaming baby.

‘She’s got some lungs on her,’ said Frank, craning his neck to see into the shawl. ‘Come on, Alice, let me see her properly.’

As I was trying to work out whether Frank should be allowed to hold my new baby after getting himself into such a state, Miriam came down the stairs to see if I needed any help. She saw Frank and waved. ‘Hello, Daddy,’ she said.

‘See, I’m the daddy,’ slurred Frank. ‘Let me hold her, Alice. Come on.’

I felt a headache coming on. I’d had enough of the screaming.

‘Sit in my chair, Frank. I can’t give her to you while you’re weaving around like that.’

Frank plonked himself down and held out his arms. I walked the short distance between us, motioned him to lean back into the chair, then I gently placed the baby into his arms. It immediately stopped crying.

Frank set his eyes on her and didn’t look away for a good five minutes. When he did look up, his eyes were leaking again. He wept drunken tears as he rocked her. ‘I promise you, that no one will ever hurt you while I’m alive. I’ll protect you. If ever you need me, I’ll be there in a heartbeat.’

He looked across the hearth and gave me that bloody smile again. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

The combination of the teary eyes and smile, almost made me blubber too, but I couldn’t let him get away without at least a token ticking off.

‘You shouldn’t have got drunk, Frank. I needed you here with me this evening. I was worried about you.’

‘I was only wetting the baby’s head, Alice. I’m allowed to do that, aren’t I?’

I sighed. ‘I suppose so, but there’s a difference between wetting the baby’s head and drenching it. Hang on a minute, when you came in you already knew you had a daughter. Who told you?’

‘My mother came into The Old Bull on the way home, I’d only had one pint by then. I’d been walking all afternoon, thinking about things. I walked round the town three times.’

‘Didn’t you think about coming home to see us?’ I asked.

He became very defensive. ‘Of course, I did, but the lads wouldn’t let me leave, every time someone new came into the bar, they bought me more beer, and by the time I realised what time it was, the pub was closing.’

He leaned over the baby and kissed her on the forehead. ‘What are we going to call her? Have you had any thoughts?’

‘I was thinking about naming her Rosemary, after my mother, but I don’t think my father would ever forgive me for it,’ I said.

‘We could name her after my mother,’ said Frank.

I shook my head. ‘I don’t want to sound mean, Frank, but Edna is a bit old fashioned.’

Frank didn’t seem to hear. ‘Hello little Edna,’ he cooed.

‘She’s not going to be called Edna, Frank, so stop that.’ I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to look stern.

‘What then? We have to call her something. I want to register her this week and she’ll need a name by then.’

‘I don’t know, Frank. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks but I can’t decide. I’ve narrowed it down to Rose, or Matilda.’

‘What about Martha? That was my grandma’s name.’ Frank seemed determined to make the decision himself.

‘Martha’s even more old fashioned than Edna,’ I complained.

‘Toss you for it, then,’ said Frank. ‘You choose one from your two names, and I’ll toss a coin.’

I was glad the responsibility of choosing a name was being taken out of my hands. I’d lost sleep thinking about it. I didn’t trust Frank not to cheat though. ‘Miriam can toss the coin. You can have heads for Martha and I’ll have tails for Rose.’

Miriam pulled a penny coin from her purse and stood in the centre of the room. She tossed the coin in the air, caught it as it fell, and slapped it down on the back of her hand.

‘Heads,’ she said, showing us both the coin.

Frank grinned. I shrugged. It wasn’t me that would have to live with the name after all.

Miriam dropped the coin as we heard a thud from the front room. She rushed across the kitchen calling to my father that she was on her way.

I sat in the chair opposite Frank and watched him whispering to his daughter. Once again, I felt a tug on my heartstrings. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. The events of the day had finally caught up with me. I felt I could sleep for a month.

As it was, I didn’t get as much as ten seconds. I almost leapt out of the chair as a blood curdling scream came from the front room. I got to my feet, thinking Miriam might have been attacked. My father had been in a foul temper when we left him earlier. Frank stood up, put Martha into her basket and followed me. I had only got as far as the table when Miriam