Fur Coat, No Knickers
Page 36
‘I wonder what’s happened to Uncle Danny. He’s been upstairs a long time,’ Vi queried.
‘Yeah, well, he’s probably fallen asleep, and that’s just where I’m heading for, if nobody minds.’
Jonathan Green stood up as Aggie got to her feet and bade her goodnight, adding that they would have more time to talk the following day. And, if they would care to extend their visit to Boxing Day, they would all be more than welcome.
By eleven, Grace was the only one left in the lounge, the others having retired just ten minutes previously. Although desperately tired, Grace didn’t fancy going to bed just yet. It was so peaceful sitting here by the fire, a mug of cocoa held between her hands, alone with her silent thoughts. In fact she could easily curl up in the expansive armchair and go to sleep right now.
When the mantle clock struck eleven thirty, Grace yawned, stretched her arms and rose reluctantly to her feet. She was putting the fire guard around the still glowing fire when a voice behind her nearly made her jump out of her skin with shock.
‘Hello, Gracie.’
And there, only a few feet away stood Nobby, his face drawn and pensive.
Clutching at her throat Grace stuttered, ‘How long have you been here, I mean in the house?’
Lifting his shoulders in a resigned gesture he answered wearily, ‘About half an hour. Vi let me in by the back door.’
Her emotions running riot, Grace shot back, ‘Well, she had no right to. I’d never have come if I’d known you’d be here.’ Even as the words left her lips Grace knew they were empty. Her whole body was trembling at the sight of him.
Coming further into the room, Nobby nodded to the armchair and asked, ‘Mind if I sit down a minute? I won’t be staying long.’
Unable to speak, Grace inclined her head, and it wasn’t until Nobby was seated that she felt more in control of the situation. That was until she sat down opposite him and saw the desolation and weariness etched into every line of his face. This wasn’t the Nobby she knew. The Nobby that was always laughing, always a joke ready on his lips. A sudden appalling thought struck her. Maybe he was ill. Oh, God, no. But he looked so dreadful.
Licking her dry lips she asked worriedly, ‘You look terrible, Nobby, are you ill?’
Nobby lifted his head, a wan smile touching the corners of his mouth.
‘If you can call not being able to be with the woman I love being ill, then, yes, I’m ill, desperately so.’
Grace could feel her former intentions slipping away as she stared into the face of the man she loved. It was one thing telling herself that she would never be able to marry Nobby after what had happened to Stan when Nobby wasn’t around; it was another matter entirely when he was sitting only a few yards away from her. Watching his gaunt face, Grace felt her resolutions and self-induced sacrifice rapidly fading.
Then Nobby looked across at her and said sombrely, ‘I’m gonna ask you one more time, and then I’ll go an’ I promise I’ll never bother you again.’ Holding her fixed gaze, he said, ‘Do you still love me, Grace? If you don’t, then say so and you’ll be rid of me for good.’
The churning in her stomach was making Grace giddy. Her heart was aching to reach out and take Nobby in her arms, but she couldn’t seem to speak, or even move.
Nobby looked on as Grace fought her own private, tortuous battle, his heart thumping so loud he was sure she must hear it. The silence in the room was becoming unbearable, and Nobby, never one to stay where he wasn’t wanted, stood up.
‘All right, Grace, you’ve given me your answer. I’m going now, and like I promised, you’ll never be bothered by me again.’
Like a man drunk, Nobby headed for the door, and in that moment a cry of anguish sprang from Grace’s lips.
‘No! Nobby, don’t go, please, don’t go. I’ve only been half-alive since we parted. I do love you, I always will, but I made a promise to myself that I’d never see you again, out of respect for Stanley. But I can’t do it, Nobby. I can’t live without you… I love you, Nobby… I love you so much…!’
The fatigue and despair seemed to leap from Nobby’s body, and with one bound he was across the room and holding her in his arms.
‘Oh, Gracie, my darling Gracie. I’ve missed yer so much. Don’t let’s ever be apart again.’
‘We won’t be, darling. I couldn’t bear to lose you now. I’ve been so miserable without you.’
Then she was being crushed in his arms, his warm lips pressing against hers. At the back of her mind Grace thought of Polly’s visit tomorrow, and what she would say when she saw Nobby and Grace back together. But she hardened her heart against Polly’s feelings; after all, she was a grown woman now, no longer a child to be shielded from life’s unpleasantness. And what if Grace stuck to her promise and then, in a few months, Polly arrived home telling them all she had fallen in love with one of the doctors or an intern? It could happen, and probably would one day. What of Grace’s noble gesture then? She would be left alone, while everyone around her was happily settled with their own family.
Then Nobby was leading her to the large settee, and as he pulled her down beside him, all thoughts of Polly and everything else vanished from her mind. She had tonight with Nobby, let tomorrow and all the other tomorrows take care of themselves.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2000 by Little, Brown
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
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Copyright © Anna King, 2000
The moral right of Anna King to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788630054
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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