Across the Mersey - Annie Groves [72]
Not that she minded all that much about Alan’s failure in the bedroom department. It wasn’t her fault, after all. Alan could bluster and complain all he liked, but they both knew that his inability to do what a husband was supposed to do with his wife had given her the upper hand, Bella thought triumphantly. One word from her to anyone else about his failure and he’d be a laughing stock, and she’d told him so. His failure put her in a position of power, so far as she was concerned. She didn’t need to do anything to try to please him if she didn’t feel like it, and that included cooking his meals.
‘I’ve ordered tickets for us for the Tennis Club New Year’s Eve dance, and you’d better stay sober because I’m not having you showing me up,’ she warned him.
She’d already got her eye on the new dress she wanted; the kind of dress, with its low neckline, that an unmarried girl like Trixie couldn’t possibly wear even if she had the looks for it, but in which she, as a married woman, would easily outshine every other woman there. Alan was a very lucky man. Far luckier than he deserved to be. It was a pity Alan had had so much to drink, because she wished that he would go to his mother’s for his supper. She wanted to try out that new nail polish she’d persuaded her mother to buy for her and listen to the wireless in peace. Thinking of her mother reminded her of the conversation they had had.
‘Oh, and we’re going to my parents for our Christmas dinner,’ she told Alan.
‘I told you last week that we were going to mine.’
‘Did you? I must have forgotten,’ Bella told him insincerely.
‘Bitch.’ Alan swore at her as he made another grab for her, lunging towards her and then staggering into the table when Bella sidestepped him neatly.
He was always aggressive and inclined to violence when he’d been drinking. She made to step past him, but he moved faster than she had anticipated, trapping her with the weight of his body, just like he did in bed, but now against the door.
She gave him a withering look and then gasped in shocked pain when he thumped her in the stomach. The pain sent her sick and too dizzy to move, fury filling her that he should dare to treat her like this. But then he hit her again and again and her fury became fear and that fear became a pain that overwhelmed and enveloped her to become a red haze of agony splintered by his continuing blows, until mercifully oblivion overtook her.
Bella came round to the savage thrust of Alan’s body within her own. Slowly and painfully she opened her eyes. She knew she was still in the kitchen, because from where she was lying she could see the blurry outline of the legs of the kitchen table. She shifted her gaze to Alan, too weak to do anything other than focus helplessly on the blind fixed expression of hatred and triumph contorting his face, as he thrust violently into her, the friction of his movements within her unwelcoming body a fresh source of pain.
His lips were curled back against his teeth, his eyes narrowed and glittering.
‘Bitch! Bitch!’ He all but screamed the word at her when he saw that her eyes were open, his breath coming in short excited bursts until finally his frenzy overwhelmed him and it was over. The movement of his body blotted out the light as he leaned over her, his fingers fastening in her hair and then tightening, bringing fresh pain as he lifted her head and then banged it down hard on the linoleum, allowing her to escape back into nothingness.
ELEVEN
‘You’ve passed! Oh, Grace love, I’m that proud of you.’ Jean dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron. Grace had arrived just as Jean was finishing peeling the potatoes for dinner, and now her mother added, ‘I knew it must be good news the minute I set eyes on you, you looked that happy.’
‘I still can’t believe it.’ Grace shook her head.
Her mother was every bit as thrilled and pleased as Grace had known she would be, and it was lovely to be home. It was