Anne Bennett 3-Book Collection: A Sister’s Promise, A Daughter’s Secret, A Mother’s Spirit. Anne Bennett

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       NINETEEN

      Will turned off the alarm before it rang, because he had been just lying awake anyway.

      Betty opened her eyes sleepily as he was dressing by the light of the lamp and said, ‘You look awful.’

      ‘Thanks,’ Will said with a sardonic smile. ‘I love you too.’

      Betty sat up in the bed, awkwardly, because of her bulging stomach, and supported herself on one elbow as she scrutinised her husband. ‘I mean it, Will, really,’ she said. ‘Your eyes are all bloodshot and you have grey bags underneath them.’

      ‘Don’t worry. I didn’t sleep too well, that’s all. I had things on my mind.’

      ‘I’ll say you did. You tossed and turned so much you kept waking me up.’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Will said. ‘Why don’t you snuggle down now? Get the sleep in while you can.’

      Betty ignored that and commented instead, ‘You were in powerfully late last night.’

      ‘Yes, I know.’

      ‘Doesn’t that man think that you have a life of your own?’

      ‘You know what the rich are like as well as I do,’ Will said. ‘Never a thought in their head for the people that work for them.’

      ‘Yeah, well, I think it is a bit much expecting you to go in so early this morning when you were so late last night. I mean, it’s barely six o’clock.’

      ‘Don’t worry, I’ll live,’ Will said, anxious to reassure his wife and be on his way. ‘And the wages are good, you have to admit. We are going to need every penny before too long, as you well know. Now, do you want me to make you a cup of tea before I go, or are you going to grab a bit of shut-eye?’

      ‘Hmm, I know one thing, Will Baker, and that is that you are a dab hand at changing the subject when it suits you,’ Betty said.

      ‘Tea or not, then?’

      ‘No,’ Betty said. ‘I will give it a miss. I’ll likely be asleep again before it’s cool enough to drink.’

      ‘Come on, then,’ Will said solicitously. ‘Snuggle down and I’ll tuck you in and you’ll be as snug as a bug in a rug.’

      With a sigh and a smile, Betty did as Will bade her.

      As he gazed at her lovely, dark brown eyes, he felt his heart turn over with love for his young wife, carrying their much-wanted child. He would die if anything happened to her. Maybe that young girl, about to end her life by Ray’s hand, had been loved by someone too once upon a time, in an earlier and less depraved life.

      ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Betty asked in sudden alarm, seeing the discomfort Will was feeling flood over his face.

      ‘Nothing,’ Will said. ‘What could be wrong?’ He kissed his wife gently on the lips and went on, ‘Come on now. I have to be on my way and you have to look after my son and heir, so that he is born fine and healthy.’

      Betty said no more but she knew that something was troubling her husband. She could read him like a book. Worry lurked behind his soft grey eyes, furrowed his brow and brought a tight look to his ashen face. She heard him moving about in the kitchen, the pop of the gas as he put the kettle on and the rattle of crockery as he got some breakfast for himself. He didn’t take long over it, and only a few minutes later she heard him go out and she knew he would be making for the tram. She snuggled down in the bed, closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but she was so tormented about what could be wrong with Will that it drove all drowsiness away. In the end she gave a sigh, got to her feet wearily and, shivering with cold, began to dress quickly.

      Collingsworth had taken to his bed on doctor’s orders and wouldn’t be needing the services of a chauffeur that day at least, Will was told at his employer’s door. He stood in the road outside, knowing he could just go home now and pretend he knew nothing. Betty would be glad to see him – he had little enough free time to spend with her – and by tomorrow it would all be over and things could go on as they always had.

      On the other hand, could he just ignore what he had overheard and which he knew to be true? Could he go home to his young wife and enjoy himself, knowing that it was that young girl’s last day on earth? And how in God’s name would he ever live with himself if he did?

      There wasn’t a choice in this, he knew. There was just the one right thing to do, and he made for home, where he had a set of ladders in the shed.

      Betty had poked the fire into life, shaking some nuggets of coal onto it, and had put the kettle on when she heard a noise outside. She turned off the light, lifted the blackout curtains aside and peered through the glass, but she could see little, though she had the idea that she could make out a vague grey shape moving around.

      She knew she wouldn’t rest until she found out if there was someone in her yard who shouldn’t be there, so taking her coat from the hook behind the door, and armed with her large shielded torch, she opened the kitchen door stealthily and stepped outside. When she suddenly turned the torch on, it lit up her husband in the doorway of the shed, carrying the ladders. She heard him give a groan of dismay as he spotted her watching him.

      ‘Will, what are you doing home? And what on earth do you want with the ladders? Are you going to clean the windows in the dark, or what?’

      ‘Ssh,’ Will hissed urgently. The last thing he wanted was to have his Betty involved in this sordid business, but he realised he owed her an explanation. If she then decided the risk was too great, that would be that.

      ‘We need to talk,’ he said.

      ‘Yes, we do,’ Betty answered grimly as she turned and made for the house. ‘And, I would say, about time too.’

      Once inside, Betty saw just how shaken her husband was. She made tea, and put a cup before each of them.

      ‘Well?’ she asked finally.

      Will ran his fingers through his sandy hair distractedly. ‘I hardly know where to start.’

      ‘Well, you could start by telling me what you want ladders for at this hour of the morning, and it dark as pitch out there?’

      Will shook his head. ‘No. Oh, by Christ, it goes much further back than that. God, Betty, you don’t know the half of it.’

      ‘Nor likely to either if you don’t tell me.’

      ‘I’m afraid.’

      ‘Of me?’

      ‘Yes,’ Will said. ‘I am afraid that you will despise me when you hear some of the things I have done.’

      Betty looked at him amazed. ‘Will, I love you. You are my husband and the father of our child. I would never despise you.’ She reached for his hand across the table and held it tight. ‘Tell me what it is that is distressing you so much,’ she said. ‘I have the feeling that you have СКАЧАТЬ