Read Online Reach for Tomorrow by Rita Bradshaw - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rita Bradshaw
Ads: Link
starry snowflakes as she told herself she couldn’t cry, she couldn’t betray any weakness to those narrowed eyes watching her so intently, or he’d be on her again.
‘Aw come on, Rosie lass, be kind. You know how I want you--’
‘You touch me again and I’ll scream enough to wake the dead, I swear it,’ she warned tightly. ‘You go and see Mary Linney if you want that sort of thing.’
Shane held Rosie’s gaze for some moments before he muttered, ‘I dinna want her. How many more times? I only want you.’
She didn’t say anything more, merely glaring at him as she brought herself away from the wall where she had been leaning for support. She had to get home. She wasn’t safe until she was enclosed within her own four walls, but she must not run; she had to walk carefully, steadily. It was only her composure that was holding him at bay.
As Rosie began to walk along the pavement, the snow covering her black elastic-sided boots and brushing the hem of her thick serge skirt, Shane fell into step beside her. He made no further attempt to touch her and he didn’t speak, but her heart was thudding like a sledgehammer as they reached the end of Chapel Lane. Forcer Road was poorly lit and never had the distance to number ninety-seven seemed so long, but then she could see her own front door and she had to restrain herself from breaking into a sprint.
She had her key ready in her hand and once they reached their respective doorsteps immediately inserted it into the lock, but he caught her arm as she stood on the step. ‘You comin’ in for the bairns?’ His voice was soft and made her want to be sick.
‘No.’ She couldn’t bring herself to look at him as she spoke but she was aware of his eyes sliding over her face, and it was all she could do not to scrub at her skin where they had rested as she almost fell into the dark hall, slamming the door shut behind her and leaning against it for a moment as she tried to compose herself. He wouldn’t have dared to do what he’d done tonight if her da and the lads were still alive. Shock and anger were making her face burn and the bile rise like acid in her throat. Or maybe he would? Her eyes narrowed in the blackness. Aye, maybe he would at that.
It was some seconds before she straightened her back, but her head was still bent as her thoughts travelled on. And what if it had been summer, and she hadn’t been muffled up to the nines? What if he’d caught her in a back alley somewhere? Would he have treated her like Mary Linney, tried to force her even? She wouldn’t put anything past him. Oh, she wished she knew more about all that side of things, bairns and marriage and all that, but her mam had never discussed anything with her. The little she did know she had gleaned from Flora, whose mam did at least answer her questions when Flora asked her. Rosie still remembered the terror she had felt the summer before when she had awoken in the middle of the night to find blood all over the bottom sheet. She had thought she was dying, that there was something wrong inside.
She could have asked Mrs McLinnie anything though, which was funny when you thought about it, with her being Shane’s mam. Oh, he was horrible that Shane, filthy. She raised her head, gulping spittle into her dry mouth as she heard her mother call from the kitchen. And she was glad they were moving to Hendon now, she was. The other side of the world wouldn’t be too far.
It was snowing and freezing hard when Davey Connor walked through the colliery gates and into the dark street beyond, and as he glanced round at the luminous new world he found the glistening white purity actually pained him. He couldn’t go down again, by all that was holy he couldn’t.
He lifted his hand in acknowledgement to the shouts of farewell from some of his workmates and walked steadily down the street without looking to left or right, but once he was clear of Southwick Road he had
‘Aw come on, Rosie lass, be kind. You know how I want you--’
‘You touch me again and I’ll scream enough to wake the dead, I swear it,’ she warned tightly. ‘You go and see Mary Linney if you want that sort of thing.’
Shane held Rosie’s gaze for some moments before he muttered, ‘I dinna want her. How many more times? I only want you.’
She didn’t say anything more, merely glaring at him as she brought herself away from the wall where she had been leaning for support. She had to get home. She wasn’t safe until she was enclosed within her own four walls, but she must not run; she had to walk carefully, steadily. It was only her composure that was holding him at bay.
As Rosie began to walk along the pavement, the snow covering her black elastic-sided boots and brushing the hem of her thick serge skirt, Shane fell into step beside her. He made no further attempt to touch her and he didn’t speak, but her heart was thudding like a sledgehammer as they reached the end of Chapel Lane. Forcer Road was poorly lit and never had the distance to number ninety-seven seemed so long, but then she could see her own front door and she had to restrain herself from breaking into a sprint.
She had her key ready in her hand and once they reached their respective doorsteps immediately inserted it into the lock, but he caught her arm as she stood on the step. ‘You comin’ in for the bairns?’ His voice was soft and made her want to be sick.
‘No.’ She couldn’t bring herself to look at him as she spoke but she was aware of his eyes sliding over her face, and it was all she could do not to scrub at her skin where they had rested as she almost fell into the dark hall, slamming the door shut behind her and leaning against it for a moment as she tried to compose herself. He wouldn’t have dared to do what he’d done tonight if her da and the lads were still alive. Shock and anger were making her face burn and the bile rise like acid in her throat. Or maybe he would? Her eyes narrowed in the blackness. Aye, maybe he would at that.
It was some seconds before she straightened her back, but her head was still bent as her thoughts travelled on. And what if it had been summer, and she hadn’t been muffled up to the nines? What if he’d caught her in a back alley somewhere? Would he have treated her like Mary Linney, tried to force her even? She wouldn’t put anything past him. Oh, she wished she knew more about all that side of things, bairns and marriage and all that, but her mam had never discussed anything with her. The little she did know she had gleaned from Flora, whose mam did at least answer her questions when Flora asked her. Rosie still remembered the terror she had felt the summer before when she had awoken in the middle of the night to find blood all over the bottom sheet. She had thought she was dying, that there was something wrong inside.
She could have asked Mrs McLinnie anything though, which was funny when you thought about it, with her being Shane’s mam. Oh, he was horrible that Shane, filthy. She raised her head, gulping spittle into her dry mouth as she heard her mother call from the kitchen. And she was glad they were moving to Hendon now, she was. The other side of the world wouldn’t be too far.
It was snowing and freezing hard when Davey Connor walked through the colliery gates and into the dark street beyond, and as he glanced round at the luminous new world he found the glistening white purity actually pained him. He couldn’t go down again, by all that was holy he couldn’t.
He lifted his hand in acknowledgement to the shouts of farewell from some of his workmates and walked steadily down the street without looking to left or right, but once he was clear of Southwick Road he had
Similar Books
