The 9 Madalyn Morgan (best romantic novels in english .TXT) 📖

When she had finished, she took a step back. There were no wrinkles, which meant she hadn’t put on too much glue. The next part of the job was closing the envelope. There was no time for hesitation, indecision led to mistakes. In one confident movement, Ena folded the envelope, pressed on the seal, and walked away.

It would be five minutes before the glue set. She looked at the door. If Freda came in now God knows what she’d do. Ena’s hands were trembling. She walked up and down the room shaking them out, looking at her watch every few seconds. ‘Five minutes,’ she said at last, and went back to Freda’s envelope. A nervous laugh escaped her lips and she blew out her cheeks. It looked perfect. She picked it up and turned it over. No one would know it had ever been tampered with.

Ena felt hot and her head ached. She put down the letter, left the annexe and went outside. She lapped the car park, as much to settle her nerves as to get some air, finally dropping onto the low wall by the factory’s main entrance. She wondered what time Mr Silcott would return from Beaumanor. It took Freda three hours when she delivered work there. She guessed it would be the same for her boss.

Ena couldn’t get the ferry tickets to Ireland out of her mind. Obviously Freda, her brother Walter, and this H. Villiers character, were going there together. But why? For a holiday? Freda always insisted she didn’t need a holiday. People change their minds, Ena thought. Strange though, that Freda hadn’t mentioned she was going to Ireland.

Ena stood up, arched her back and stretched out her arms. She felt better for the fresh air and went back to the annexe. She stood at Freda’s desk. It had been a while since Ena had looked through Freda’s personal letters. There may be more now. There might even be one that would shed light on why Freda was going to Ireland.

Without wasting more time, Ena opened the top drawer of Freda’s desk. It contained worksheets mostly. There were a few unpaid bills and a receipt held together by rubber bands, but nothing unusual. Making sure she left the papers in exactly the same order she had found them, Ena slid the drawer to and opened the next one down.

The second drawer held petrol vouchers – one or two a month going back to the beginning of the year. Closing it, Ena pulled on the bottom drawer. It didn’t budge. Remembering it had stuck once before, because an envelope got jammed at the back, Ena pulled it again, harder. It not only didn’t open, there was no give in it. It was locked. Ena’s pulse began to quicken. Had Freda locked it as a precaution or because she knew someone had looked at her private correspondence before and was making sure they couldn’t do it again?

Either scenario would mean trouble if she was caught. Ena weighed up the situation and decided that, after what she had learned about Freda today, anything she had hidden in a locked drawer was too important to ignore.

Keeping an eye on the door, Ena crossed to Mr Silcott’s desk and took out his keys. She knew one of them opened the drawers in her desk, because the wages had been locked in there on the few occasions that Mrs Silcott had brought them to the factory early. Ena wondered if the same key would unlock Freda’s drawer. It was worth a try.

On her knees, Ena slipped the key into the small keyhole. She turned it slowly and heard the locking bar click back. Her hands were shaking. She took out the key, pulled the drawer open, and looked inside. There were several letters. Assuming the most recent would be on top of the pile, she took it and, getting to her feet, put it on the desk.

For fear Freda would arrive and accuse her of spying on her, which was exactly what she was doing, Ena ran to her desk, dragged it across the room, and pushed it up against the door. She then tipped the remainder of her tea on the floor. If anyone tried to come in the door would bang against the desk, giving Ena time to put the letters back where they belonged. And if they asked what she was doing, she would say she’d spilt her tea and had moved the desk out of the way to clean it up. Whether anyone would believe her was another matter. For the moment, it was all she could think of.

In an attempt to suppress the contradictory feelings of excitement and fear, Ena breathed deeply and slowly. Then, with the nerves on top of her stomach as tight as the skin on a drum, she opened the first of the letters. It was from Freda’s brother Walter and began “My darling Frieda.” There was something about the salutation that wasn’t right. She read it again, “My darling Frieda.” Darling was a little over-affectionate for brother and sister, but it wasn’t that. After scrutinising the first three words, Ena saw that Walter had spelt his sister’s name differently.

She read on. “I cannot wait until we are home.” Ena looked at the envelope. The stamp was postmarked Northampton. So, home wasn’t with their uncle… He went on to say, “I will be on the Liverpool train, as arranged,” and he finished with “Wear the red beret I bought you in Paris, it reminds me of the happy times we shared when we were young.”

Ena had never seen Freda in a red beret. Then it came to her. She had seen her wear a beret once. It was not long after she started working at Silcott Engineering. She wore it with a grey suit with matching gloves and-- Ena froze. She could hear voices outside the door.