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

does, doesn’t he? He fancies you.’ She skipped ahead of the pram singing, ‘Alice has a gangster man, Alice has a gangster man.’

I laughed at her antics. ‘It isn’t like that, Amy. It’s, well, I don’t know how it is, to be honest.’

‘He took you to lunch at a posh café, bought you Martinis—’

‘Oh God, I called them Martina’s. Like the girl’s name, it was so embarrassing.’

‘MARTINA’S!’ Amy was in heaven. ‘I’m going to call them that forever. Every time I order one, I’m going to say, could I have a Martina, please? Oh my God that is so funny.’

‘It wasn’t at the time,’ I said.

When Amy had finished laughing, she went back to the subject of Frank.

‘Why was he angry then? Was he jealous of this Godfrey bloke? Is he really that good looking?’

I pretended to wipe my brow and flicked away non-existent sweat.

Amy did a little dance. ‘Ooh, I’ve got to meet him. Is he really dishy?’

‘He is movie-star dishy, but he’s married. We had lunch and we’ve only kissed once.’

Amy stopped dead and I ran into the back of her legs.

‘You KISSED! Why didn’t you tell me that? It’s the most important part of the story.’

‘It just happened. He’s quite tall, so I just got on my tiptoes and kissed him.’

‘On the lips!’

‘On the lips.’

‘You… kissed him. Oh, Alice, you hussy.’ Amy’s mouth opened wide enough to swallow a tennis ball.

‘How long did it last? What did he taste like? Did he stop, or did you?’

‘It lasted about ten seconds, his lips tasted of wine, and I broke off the kiss.’

‘This is so good,’ said Amy. She walked around in a tight circle and then faced me again. ‘Sooo, Alice the hussy, when are you seeing him again?’

‘Not until the end of August, early September. He’s getting the estate death-tax documents ready. I have to pay the government money, because my father died, it seems.’

‘Never mind that. Just think, your body will be back to it’s usual, irresistible shape by then. He won’t be able to keep his hands off.’

‘He’s married, Amy. Although, he did say that he’d been looking forward to seeing me all morning.’

‘There you go then. Oh, this is so good, I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight. You lucky so and so.’

‘He’s married,’ I repeated.

‘Well, if he’s that nice, and you don’t want him, I’ll have him. It’s every young girl’s dream to have an experienced, older man for a lover.’

‘I’ve got an older man, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be,’ I said.

‘Have you and Frank… erm… done it again yet?’

‘No, and I don’t really want to either,’ I replied.

‘Good. Stick to your gangster for a while. Okay, you can’t marry him… you could run away with him though… Anyway, you could have some fun. You deserve it after what’s happened to you over the last year.’

‘His wife deserves better too. Look, Amy, I kissed him, he didn’t kiss me or even try to. I think this might be a one-way thing. Although… he did tell me he liked the kiss, and he did say that I look like Rita Hayworth… and he likes Rita Hayworth.’

‘Just have a bit of fun, Alice, and if he’s got a friend who’s loaded and as good looking as him. Let me know.’

We turned back at the station; it was Amy’s turn to push the pram.

‘Oh, I know I meant to tell you something. I met your boss’s son today, the mill owner’s son that is.’ I pulled a face as I thought of him.

Amy shuddered. ‘That creep? He’s like an octopus when he’s on the shop floor. He’s disgusting. We keep reporting him but nothing ever happens to him when we do.’

‘It might now. Godfrey is the company solicitor. I might just have a word with him about that. He may have some influence.’

Amy nodded vigorously. ‘He’ll be the mill girls’ hero if he could stop it.’ She thought for a moment. ‘You still haven’t said why Frank got mad… OH MY GOD! Did he catch you kissing your gangster?’

‘I think he saw every second of it. He had a bit of a go at me in the van over it, but I expected a lot more. I bet he’s saving it up for tonight.’

Chapter 67

June 1938

By the time Frank got home, I’d fed Martha her formula bottle, and made up another one for the cold shelf. He didn’t speak when he came in, but busied himself warming up his meat and two veg dinner that Miriam had left out for him.

I picked up the baby basket and walked to the stairs.

‘Nothing to say for yourself then?’

‘Nothing I haven’t said already,’ I replied before heading up the stairs.

I laid the Moses basket at the foot of the bed and slipped between the sheets, but I couldn’t drop off. Worrying about Frank kicking off again, and the memories of what had been a lovely day, fought for dominance in my thoughts. The one thing I was certain about. I didn’t love Frank, and I never would. Godfrey, although unattainable, had made me see that. I had allowed myself to be won over by Frank’s smile, and his willingness to help with Martha, but he had a dark side to him, and that did concern me. I had been living with an abusive, uncaring, drunk for almost eighteen months, and I was determined that I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life with one.

Frank came up at eleven-thirty, and for once, didn’t say goodnight to Martha. Instead he took off his clothes and dropped them where he stood, then yanked back the covers and threw himself into bed.

I was still in the middle ground between sleep and wakefulness, when you seem to know what’s going on around you, but your mind is getting snippets of the dream you are about to fall into. Whichever dream that was, I was hauled right back out of it.

‘You needn’t expect me to feed Martha tonight. You