The Legacy: Trouble Comes Disguised As Family (Unspoken Book 2) T. Belshaw (management books to read .txt) 📖

‘Oh, Miriam, I’m so sorry,’ I said inadequately.

‘We’ll never be married,’ she sniffed as she took off her coat. ‘If anything happens to those boys…’

‘Your son has signed up too, Miriam. You have something more to share now. Concern for your children, it might bring you even closer together.’

‘Do you think it will, Alice? I’m not so sure. He feels guilty for seeing me as it is, he thinks his wife disapproves of us, somehow. If anything should happen to Michael junior, or David, he might begin to think it’s a curse sent down from above.’

‘Their mother would never do that. If she is capable of anything, surely it will be a protecting influence?’

‘Oh, I do hope so, Alice. I hope my old dad is watching over my Dennis, too.’

I gave her another hug and a kiss on the cheek. ‘He will be, Miriam. He will be.’

That night, I lay in bed thinking about all the mothers in the town that were about to say goodbye to their sons. For many of them it would be the last word they ever shared. I pictured Benny’s pregnant young wife standing on the doorstep receiving the dreaded telegram informing her that her beloved new husband had been killed or was missing in action. I imagined Tommy’s mother dropping to her knees. She wasn’t the strongest of women. Like my own mother, she had had a terrible time in childbirth. The trauma she had endured had affected her mentally and she suffered regular periods of depression, some of which had seen her taken into the psychiatric hospital at Gillingham.

At three in the morning, I got up to make tea, sleep was never going to come. As I stepped into the kitchen, I found Miriam already there. Noticing my red eyes, she gave me a sad smile and picked up the teapot.

‘Come on, love. I’ve made a nice cup of tea, that will make you feel better.’

Tea was Miriam’s cure-all. She was convinced it was a quick fix for most emotional difficulties. That night it worked, although I think it was more her company and her warm arms around me that scared away my demons.

My birthday fell on a Saturday and as that was a regular night out with my best friend Amy, we decided to stick to our usual routine and spend the evening at the pictures, ending up in the Old Bull for the last hour.

The film was Goodbye Mr Chips with Greer Garson and Robert Donat. Many tears fell during the screening. Especially when Mr Chip’s wife and baby died. I was still wiping my eyes when we left the cinema and crossed the road to buy fish and chips before the bus came.

We sat on a low wall opposite the bus stop as we ate our supper. Amy chatting away whilst blowing on a chip to cool it.

‘So, Alice Hussy, have you seen anything of your Gangster Lawyer since I saw you last?’

I had just stuffed a couple of chips in my mouth, so she had to wait for an answer while I panted like a racing greyhound to try to stop the blisteringly hot food burning my tongue. Eventually, I managed to swallow them whole.

‘No, I haven’t seen him since you last asked on Thursday evening.’ Amy had been down to visit after work.

‘He’s going off you, I can tell.’

‘He does have a wife and kids, remember?’

‘If he really loved you, he’d be there every day, professing his love, whispering poetry through the letterbox.’

I looked at her quizzically. ‘Have you been reading Shelley again?’

Amy sniffed and popped the last of her chips into her mouth.

‘Might have,’ she said.

‘I can always tell,’ I said. ‘You get all mushy.’

‘I do,’ agreed Amy. ‘Though it might be…’ she pointed downwards, ‘I always get a bit emotional at this time of the month.’

We screwed up the sheets of newspaper our chips had been served in, dropped them into a metal litter bin and walked quickly across the road as our bus turned the corner further along Middle Street. We joined the queue of chatting cinema goers and a short time later we arrived at the Old Bull, where I was greeted with a chorus of Happy Birthday as we walked into the lounge.

I was surprised to see Big Nose Beryl standing with the factory girls at the bar. Beryl doesn’t have a particularly big nose, but gets the nickname because she can’t keep it out of other people’s business. She usually frequented the Red Lion in town. Amy had been gunning for her for months.

‘Happy Birthday, Alice,’ she gushed as I took my G and T from Amy who always bought the drinks on my birthday.

‘Thank you, Beryl,’ I replied and waited for the follow up barb, there always was one with Beryl.

‘How old are you now, nineteen is it?’

‘Twenty, Beryl.’

‘And, how old is little Martha? I bet she’s getting big now.’

‘She’s fifteen months, and yes, she is growing quickly.’

Amy took my arm and began to lead me across to a group of girls we went to school with. Most of them worked at the factory with Amy, although a couple had jobs in the shops in town. Beryl hadn’t finished though.

‘Has Martha’s dad been in touch recently? I heard he’d written to someone saying that he met a woman in Dover and was starting a new family there. You’d think he’d ask for a divorce first, wouldn’t you?’

Before I could say anything, Amy turned around, took three large paces forward and stuck her face up close to Beryl’s. Beryl suddenly looked like a cornered fox, her eyes darted left and right as if looking for a way out.

‘Frank is with the Merchant Navy, working out of Liverpool, so take your malicious gossip and stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.’ Amy spat the lie through gritted teeth. Frank was dead, but Amy and I were the only people who knew it.

Beryl