Unspoken: A story of secrets, love and revenge T. Belshaw (good books to read for beginners txt) 📖

flabby neck and it was chafing. He put his finger inside the collar to try to ease the soreness. He walked in without being invited, the constable followed suit.

I was wearing my polka-dot day dress as I was about to walk Martha up to Amy’s house. The fat sergeant, who was in his late forties, looked me up and down appreciatively.

‘So… Alice, is it? You made a complaint, regarding a late-night incident. What happened exactly?’

‘A man raped me,’ I said.

The constable suddenly became interested, he opened his notebook and began to jot down details.

‘What time was this?’

‘One fifty-five in the morning,’ I replied.

‘I see, and did this man break in?’

‘No, he was staying here. He works on the farm and, well, he’d just come back from the pub and—’

‘He was staying here? Where? In the barn, in the house?’

‘In a room upstairs,’ I said, wishing the officer would give me time to explain properly.

The constable sniggered.

The sergeant rubbed at his neck again. ‘Right, let’s take a few details. You are?’

‘Alice Mollison.’

‘And your attacker’s name?’

‘Frank… Frank… Mollison.’

The sergeant leapt onto that bit of information. ‘Mollison, so, is this man your husband?’

‘No, we didn’t get married. I just took his name for the baby’s sake.’

He looked at the Moses basket. ‘So, the child is his? He is the father of the baby?’

‘Yes, but… it’s not how it looks. We had… we… It’s really not how it looks. We were never… Oh this is so difficult.’ I clenched my fists in frustration.

The sergeant preened as though he had the case solved. ‘Did you live together as husband and wife, Alice?’

‘No, well, yes, sort of.’

‘Sort of?’ The constable sniggered.

I began to feel that I was being interrogated as the culprit, not the victim.

‘He slept in my bed but—’

‘He slept in your bed?’ The sergeant shook his head as the constable snapped his notebook shut.

‘And there we have it, Constable Warren, it’s obviously a domestic. She’ll be all over him again by the end of the week.’ He took a step towards me and put the back of his hand against my red, swollen cheek. ‘I know you’re only young, love, but take a little tip from me. Cook him a nice Sunday roast and he’ll be whispering sweet nothing’s in your ear, by bedtime.’

‘He bloody won’t,’ I said angrily. ‘Anyway, he’s gone, if you check the station, you’ll find him. He’s on his way to Liverpool, he was only staying here while he waited for a ship. He joined the Merchant Navy in June.’

‘He’s gone eh?’ He turned to his constable. ‘Wait outside.’

When we were alone, he gave me a big smile and patted me on the arm. When he spoke, it was in the most patronising voice I had ever heard.

‘Now then, Alice. This sort of thing happens all the time in families, and it can be a lot worse than this, believe me. You might be angry about getting a shiner, but there’s nothing we can do about it, you see. It’s what’s known as a domestic incident. We wouldn’t get a conviction, even if we were stupid enough to take the matter to court. You admitted that you sleep with him, that he’s the father of your child, that he’s been working on the farm and you’ve been feeding him.’ He shrugged. ‘A man is entitled to have his way with his missis, if he feels like it, you know? Any judge would rule that way. You’ll be the laughing stock of the town if you try to take this further. Just be a good girl and forget the complaint was ever made.’

I walked to the sink to wash Martha’s bottle out, mainly so I didn’t have to look at his smug, fat face, any longer. I didn’t hear him sneak up behind me, and the next thing I knew he’d slapped me on the backside.

‘If you ever get lonely at night, just call the police house and I’ll come around to keep you warm.’ He gave me a lecherous look and touched his helmet with his index finger. ‘See you around.’

Amy must have sensed that I was in trouble, because she turned up at lunchtime. She took one look at my swollen face, and gasped. She reached out and touched my cheek, so softly that I could barely feel it.

‘That bastard, Frank. Where is he? Where’s your dad’s gun? I’m going to kill him.’

‘He’s gone, Amy. He’s gone for good. He’s on his way to Liverpool.’

‘Call the police,’ she said.

‘I did, and they’ve been round to see me. Much good that did. They said it was a domestic incident, and that Frank had every right to do this to me.’

‘He beats you up and they say no crime was committed? Where’s the justice in that?’

‘He didn’t just beat me up,’ I said, and burst into floods of tears.

Amy held me while I sobbingly described the events of the early morning. When I had recovered my composure, she held my hands and tried to think of a way of getting back at him.

‘So, the police are as useless as we always thought they were. How about we get the farm lads to sort him out?’

‘He’s gone, Amy. He’s on a bloody train. Soon he’ll be on a bloody ship.’

Any rubbed her chin, deep in thought. ‘Do we know anyone in the navy? Maybe we could get him thrown overboard, or used for shark bait.’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t know anyone in the navy; anyway, he’s not in the navy.’

‘Why is there navy in the bloody title then, it’s so confusing. Wait a minute. What about your gangster lawyer? He must know a way of getting around the useless law. Surely there’s something illegal in what Frank did?’

‘I don’t want to bother him with it, Amy… Anyway, he’s away for the next couple of weeks.’

‘Tell him when he comes back then. Promise me, Alice. Promise me you’ll go to see him when he comes back.’ Amy’s eyes held mine until I