Unspoken: A story of secrets, love and revenge T. Belshaw (good books to read for beginners txt) 📖
- Author: T. Belshaw
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‘Are you awake, Nana? I hope you didn’t have any of those nasty dreams.’
‘I saw the tunnel, Jessica, but it didn’t seem so close, nowhere near as close, and I didn’t see anyone in it. It was more like when I first started dreaming about it. The clock went backwards too. How can that happen?’
‘I don’t know, Nana, dreams are weird things. Maybe you don’t dream so much about the tunnel when you can’t see the clock. Shall I take it down for you?’
Alice was fully awake. ‘No, I think I might miss it in an odd sort of way if it wasn’t there. Leave it, my dear. It’s been up there since before I started that book you have in your hands. It’s like me, it belongs here.’
Jess made cocoa and they chatted about Jess’s work for a while, before she bought up the subject of Alice’s memoir.
‘When you were sleeping, I read the chapter about Martha’s birth and what happened afterwards. What a terrible day that was, Nana. I cried as I was reading it. A new arrival and a sad departure on the same day… and what about those pigs? I think I’d have dropped dead with fright if that had happened to me.’
Alice blew out her cheeks and expelled the air. ‘The pigs! Oh, my goodness, I’d almost forgotten about them. Horace, Hector and their sows. They were gentle beasts really. It broke my heart when the time came to let them go.’ She paused as she remembered them, then shrugged. ‘It was a farm, sad things happened.’
Jess shook her head. ‘As if you hadn’t taken enough punishment for one day, you had Martha and lost your dad in the space of a few hours.’
‘It was a very tough day, but, although it was a very sad time, I was relieved that my father had gone. It meant he wasn’t suffering that dreadful, mental anguish anymore, and he’d moved on to wherever my mother had moved on to. I just hoped he was happy at last. The worst bit was seeing his coffin lid being screwed down. That really got to me.’
‘I can understand that, Nana. Frank reminds me a lot of Calvin. You never know where you are with him when he’s had a drink. At least Frank was better when he was sober, and he did care about Martha.’
‘Did he?’ Alice thought for a short while. ‘Maybe he did. She always liked him; I know that much.’
‘Do you want your sleeping tablet now, Nana?’ Jess checked the big clock. ‘It’s ten o’clock.’
‘No, I don’t feel tired. Do you mind reading a bit more? The years have stolen parts of my story from me and I’d like to be reminded of what my thoughts were at the time.’
Jess opened the book again and read. June. 1938.
Chapter 61
June 1938
When I got back to the kitchen, Miriam was giving Martha the last bit of another formula bottle. She sniffled as she whispered, ‘Good girl, drink it all up now.’
The bottle of expressed milk stood on the side of the sink. I picked it up, shook it and then sniffed it in case it had gone off. ‘She wouldn’t have it then, Miriam?’
‘She had a sniff and turned her nose up, so I made some more formula. There’s another bottle on the cold shelf.’
I sighed, as fatigue swarmed over me. I least I was spared having to squeeze out breast milk for Martha during the night. Elsie had given me a strict timetable that I was to follow unerringly. I had to get the baby into a routine. She had given me dire warnings about how my life would be ruined if Martha was allowed to dictate feeding times. My life had changed in so many ways over the last twelve hours. I needed Amy, she could help me through it all, she’d know what to say to ease my fears, she always did. I decided to take Martha up to see her tomorrow, then I remembered I hadn’t bought a pram yet, and I probably wouldn’t make it past the back door with Miriam and Elsie standing guard anyway.
‘Where’s Frank?’ I asked.
‘He went into the front room a while ago. I offered to let him feed Martha, but he said he needed a few minutes alone.’
I could understand that, we had all had a terrible shock. I stretched, rubbed at my aching back and eased myself into my chair by the stove. I was sore in all sorts of places, but that backache made it impossible to get comfortable. I stood up again and walked around the kitchen, but there was no relief. I needed a back rub and I knew just the man to administer it. He had performed miracles when I had almost seized up, getting out of bed during the week.
I looked at the clock. He’d had forty minutes on his own, that was enough, surely. I’d say sorry if it wasn’t.
I made my way across the kitchen, bent over, thinking I must look like Quasimodo, the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Miriam gave me her sad faced look. ‘Can I do anything to help, my dear? I know exactly how you feel, it’s the back ache isn’t it? That was the worst part for me too. I’ll give you a rub when I’ve finished feeding the little one if you like.’
‘It’s okay, Miriam, Frank can do it. He’s got the magic touch.’
I tapped on the door as a courtesy, I was
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