Across the Mersey - Annie Groves [111]
Until he got home? Why didn’t she go to the office now and confront them, and then let everyone know what a sly cat that Trixie really was? Kissing another woman’s husband and letting him do what he shouldn’t with her.
Bella was beside herself with rage, but eager as she was to confront Alan, something was holding her back. Perhaps she ought to tell her mother first. Yes, she decided, that was what she would do.
* * *
‘Oh, it’s you, Bella.’
Bella wasn’t used to her mother greeting her with such a lack of enthusiasm.
‘Mummy, something dreadful’s happened.’
‘If it’s those refugees getting on your nerves again, then all I can say is that it’s a pity that you aren’t expecting. No one would expect you to house the likes of them then. You’ll never guess what your aunt Francine’s had the cheek to do,’ she continued without pausing for breath or to allow Bella to say anything. ‘She’s only written to say that she wants to know where Jack’s been evacuated to. I’ll have to go over to Jean’s now, otherwise I’ll have Francine coming over here and your father won’t like that.’
Bella wasn’t interested in her mother’s anger with her younger sister. She had far more important things to think about, after all, and her mother’s comment about the benefits of her being pregnant had given her a wonderful idea.
If she were to get pregnant then that would really put that cat Trixie in her place.
Bella mentally visualised herself making the announcement in front of Trixie and watching the look on her face. There was a name for girls who carried on with married men the way Trixie was doing, and it wasn’t a name that came with the respectability of the title ‘Mrs’ in front of it. There’d be no more talk about Alan and Trixie having been an item before Alan had married her either, not once she, Bella, was having a baby. And when she showed Trixie up for what she really was it would be her that everyone sympathised with.
Not even Alan’s parents would be able to dote so much on Trixie then. Alan would have to change his tune as well, Bella decided with satisfaction.
She was glad now that she hadn’t tackled Alan. Far better to wait, Bella decided, as she made plans. Alan had probably only kissed Trixie because she’d encouraged him. Men were like that, after all. Her mother was still going on about Jack and Francine. Bella gave her an irritated look. She needed to get home. She’d got plans to make, plans that would put that plain-faced Trixie in her place for once and for all.
‘Hey, Frankie …’
Francine stiffened, ignoring the looks she was attracting from the people forced to avoid her, as she stood immobile in the middle of the lunchtime-busy pavement, wanting to turn round and walk away without acknowledging the greeting, but knowing that she must. If her time in Hollywood had taught her nothing else it had certainly taught her how to fake a smile. She pinned it to her face now as she confronted the man coming towards her, skilfully dodging his attempt to embrace her by sidestepping him slightly and putting her hand on his arm – to hold him off, not draw him close. It might have been ten years since she had last seen him but he hadn’t changed. He might be well into his thirties now, but a man like Con could carry an extra ten years and not look any the less handsome. Clark Gable and the others wouldn’t stand a chance against him as a swoon-inducing leading man if they were in competition. That mingling of Italian, Irish and heaven knew what other blood had given him the gift of outstandingly good looks, and of course he knew it and had always known it. Known it and used that knowledge without compassion or compunction to get what he wanted.
She should, she supposed, hate him, but here again Hollywood had taught her a lot. She had seen how far good looks and the ability to trade on them could take a person, and she knew how much Con would have relished the opportunity to cash in on his physical assets if he could have brokered it.