Read Online Georgia by Lesley Pearse - Free Book Online

teenage romances are usually shortlived.’
    As she switched out the light Brian turned over and put his arm round her.
    ‘Don’t,’ she said brusquely, moving away.
    ‘I only wanted to cuddle you,’ his voice sounded peeved.
    ‘You always say that,’ she brushed his arm away. ‘And I’m not in the mood.’
    ‘Are you ever?’ his tone was heavy with sarcasm, and with a sigh he rolled over.
    Celia lay there in the dark feeling just a little guilty. So much of their marriage was good, but she found it difficult to respond to him.
    Maybe that was why she wanted Georgia to have lots of boyfriends because her own experience was so limited.
    Celia Tutthill had always been a ‘sensible’ girl. Clothes chosen for their hard-wearing qualities rather than style, her hair cut short to save bother, swotting for her exams while others danced the night away and fell in love.
    She came to this house as a lodger already set into spinsterhood at twenty-seven.
    Martha Anderson and her bachelor son Brian were wrapped up in each other and for over a year the only contact she had with either of them was when they passed on the stairs.
    It was only when old Mrs Anderson became ill that Celia got involved. Getting shopping for them, helping Brian in the garden, occasionally giving the old lady her medicine and helping her out to the bathroom when Brian was away on business. Martha could be a tyrant, she had kept her son on a tight rein all his life, but Celia was touched by his devotion.
    Martha died suddenly one evening. One minute Brian was reading her the paper, the next she was dead, lying back on her lace-trimmed pillows, her wrinkled face suddenly younger.
    It was fortunate Celia was off duty. She heard Brian cry out from across the landing and by the time she reached Martha’s bedroom she found him sobbing, his head on his mother’s breast.
    She told herself she would stay only until he had got over his grief, then find another home. But without old Martha Anderson bullying him, Celia began to see another side of the lonely bachelor. He was capable yet sensitive, his gentleness was like a soothing balm after a day on the busy ward. She found herself looking forward to her weekends off, accepting his offers to share a meal, to go to the cinema, or even just listening to music together. When he asked her to marry him it seemed a perfect match. They both had their careers, and she could stay on in the house she’d come to love.
    In her naïvety Celia hadn’t fully considered what marriage meant. It came as a shock to discover that the sensitive gentleman was also sensuous and demanding.
    A glimpse of stocking tops. A hint of nudity. A picture of something titillating in the paper, coupled with a drink or two would arouse him. Before she knew what was happening he was grappling with her, his mouth slobbering over her and suggesting things that made her flesh crawl.
    In the new year of 1946 things came to a head. He was angry at being passed over for promotion, perhaps ashamed he’d spent the war behind a desk. But when he began to taunt her with her frigidity, blamed her for not producing a child, she felt leaving him was the answer.
    While Brian was away on a course in Brighton, Celia saw it as the perfect opportunity to make the break.
    ‘I can’t go on the way things are,’ she wrote. ‘I blame myself because I can’t respond to you the way you’d like. Perhaps I was never cut out for marriage. I care for you deeply, but I know that isn’t enough. If I leave you now, maybe you will find happiness with someone else.’
    But for once Brian surprised her by being unpredictable. He came home the moment he got the letter, catching her packing.
    To this day she could see his face. Weak mouth quivering, eyes full of unshed tears. For once his appearance less than impeccable. He begged her to stay, insisting he wanted her on any terms.
    Later that year, Brian was finally promoted to manager of the bank in Lewisham High Street