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

in a shady nook. Godfrey took off his hat and placed it on the table.

‘You look like a gangster when you wear that. Especially when you’re in the car,’ I said.

‘You’ve got a thing about gangsters, haven’t you?’ He grinned as he put his hat onto my head. I ran my hands through my chestnut churls and struck a pose. ‘Do I look like a gangster’s moll?’ I asked him.

‘A perfect moll,’ he replied with a smile. ‘Now then, what would a gangster’s moll like to drink. A Martina, perhaps?’

I blushed. ‘I’m so stupid, I shouldn’t have—’

‘I found it amusing, not stupid. In fact, I might just make up my own cocktail mix and call it a Martina.’

‘Can you do that? Make up your own cocktails? I thought they’d all been invented already.’

‘One day, I’ll show you how to make one, and it will be called the Martina,’ he said.

I drank the Martini that arrived, far too quickly again, so we sat and talked about the ways of the world while he finished his wine. Afterwards, we took a long detour, and arrived at the farm at about three o’clock. Frank was just walking out of the yard with his bag of possessions as we pulled up.

‘Wait here,’ I ordered, then apologised. ‘Sorry, I meant to say, please.’

Godfrey smiled and I got out of the car. Frank waited for me to walk over to him.

‘Good luck, Frank. I really mean it. I hope the seas are kind to you.’

He leaned forward to kiss me but I stepped back and held out my hand instead. Frank shook it, took one hateful look at the Alvis, then turned away and spat in the dirt.

‘See you in August,’ he said and stomped up the lane.

I returned to the car and motioned for Godfrey to get out.

‘Where’s Frank going?’ he asked.

‘He’s running away to sea,’ I replied.

‘Do you think I should offer him a lift to the station?’ he asked.

‘Not bloody likely, that’s my seat, I don’t want it getting dirty.’

I held out my hand to invite him into the farm yard. ‘Would you like a cup of tea and one of Miriam’s doorstep, cheese sandwiches?’ I asked him.

He patted his stomach. ‘I need to watch this; I’ll settle for the tea.’

Chapter 70

July 1938

Godfrey was just leaving as Amy walked through the back gate. He tipped his hat to her, then turned to me and did the same.

‘Goodbye, Alice, thank you for the tea. I enjoyed our afternoon. I’ll ring with a progress report regarding the Estate Duty, in the early part of next week. Meanwhile, good luck with the insurance company.’

Amy had stayed silent while he was speaking. She looked at him, pretty much the same way I had when I first met him. She had a dreamy look on her face and her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Eventually, she got her act together.

‘Are you Alice’s gangster lawyer?’ she asked.

Godfrey chuckled. ‘It seems I am,’ he said.

‘I thought so. You look like a gangster in that hat,’ Amy replied.

‘I’ll have to remember to take it off when the police are around,’ he said with a smile.

‘I would,’ Amy said. ‘You have a gangster car too. Can I get a ride in it?’

I hid my smile behind my hand and tried to look serious.

‘Not on the front seat, that’s mine,’ I said, trying hard not to laugh.

Godfrey looked at his watch, which was fixed to his waistcoat by a thick gold chain.

‘I’m so sorry… erm, Amy, is it? I don’t have time at the moment, but I’d be happy to take you both for a spin at a later date, if that is acceptable?’

‘Only if you have a handsome, gangster friend to come with us,’ Amy said seriously. ‘I don’t want to be a gooseberry.’

Godfrey shot a quick look at me from beneath the brim of his hat. He winked and turned back to Amy.

‘I prefer strawberries.’ He pointed to her fair hair. ‘Blondes that is.’

While Amy tried to work out what he meant by that, he stepped through the gate and pulled it closed behind him. He tipped his hat again. ‘Ladies,’ he said, and set off up the dusty track that led to the lane.

Amy and I gossiped well into the late evening. I told her about my day, how my father’s funeral had gone, how I dropped my mother’s pen on the coffin and how Godfrey had been kind enough to think of me after the funeral was over.

‘He can make his own cocktails and he’s going to invent one for me, guess what he’s going to call it?’

‘Alice… no, Alice in Wonderland… no, Alice, erm, The Tansley, no, The Mollison, oh, I don’t know, I give up. What is it?’

‘Martina!’

‘Oh, my God! Seriously? Doesn’t that sort of take the joke out of it though?’

‘Not really, no one serving you will know what it is, it’s not like he’s famous or anything. No one will copy it.’

‘Good,’ said Amy. ‘I want to order one soon. Before the word gets out.’

Then I told her about Frank. How he’d attacked me again on the Wednesday night when he was drunk. When I told her that he’d joined the Merchant Navy, she whooped and gave me the biggest hug she’d ever given me.

‘You’re free of him. Oh, I hope his ship sinks, is that being too mean? I suppose it is as there will be others onboard. Maybe the navy will send him to Australia or on a ten-year tour of the Pacific Ocean.’

‘It’s the Merchant Navy, Amy. They sail around the world with cargo, you know, bananas, coal, anything really, they’re usually gone a few months at a time.’

‘That’s not long enough for that swine,’ she said with feeling.

Then I had to impart the bad news.

‘He’s… he’s staying here for two weeks at the end of August, while he waits for a ship to America, then he’s gone for good, I think.’

‘ALICE!’ Amy was furious.

‘It’s two