Chapters (50)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- About the Author
- Praise
- Dedication
- Book One
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- 1948
- Chapter Five
- 23 December 1989
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Christmas 1948
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- New Year’s Eve
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- 2 January
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- 1953
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Book Two
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- 4 March 1990
- An exciting preview of Martina Cole’s powerful new novel, REVENGE
- Prologue
Kate ran her fingers through his thick hair and traced the contours of his face with her fingertips, gradually travelling down, over his body and along his back muscles, to his rounded behind. He even felt strong. His skin felt warm and comforting on top of hers. He covered her naturally, as if he had been made specially to fit into the contours of her body. And as they kissed the shrill jangling of the phone broke their mood.
Kate pulled herself from the floor and padded out to the hall, dragging her blouse on as she went.
Patrick lay on the carpet and lit himself another cigarette. He felt at peace with himself, something he had not thought possible on this day of all days.
Kate came back into the lounge and sat beside him, her dark nipples showing through the thin silk of the blouse.
‘That was my mother. She’s decided to stay the night at Doris’s.’ She shook her head. ‘She’s about as subtle as a sledgehammer!’
Patrick smiled at her.
‘She’s a lovely person, Kate. Reminds me of me own mum. She had the same zest for life as Evelyn. It was overwork that killed her off, bless her. My one regret is she never lived long enough for me to give her a decent life. I’d have bought her a bingo hall of her very own.’
Kate laughed, knowing that he spoke the truth.
‘I would have, Kate, you can laugh.’
‘That’s why I’m laughing, because I know you’re speaking the truth. I can just see you doing it.’
They both grinned and then Kate took the cigarette from him and took a deep draw on it.
‘Do you want to stay the night?’
Patrick grabbed her thigh and squeezed it.
‘I’m not that kind of boy, miss.’ He fluttered his eyelashes and she laughed again.
He watched her and knew that if it weren’t for her, he would never have laughed again after today. Not really laughed.
She was as good as a tonic, as his mother used to say, and he did love her. He loved her very much.
Later on, in bed, they made love and she told him she loved him again.
In the dark and warmth of the night, with the musky smell of each other permeating their bodies, it did not seem wrong any more.