Unspoken: A story of secrets, love and revenge by T. Belshaw (best reads of all time .TXT) 📗

As she approached the T junction, she braked hard and looked back over her shoulder towards the farm.

‘That’s why she’s looking a bit healthier,’ she thought. ‘Bloody rouge, the crafty old…’

Jess parked outside Tesco and crossed the road to the store.

‘We’ll have to stop meeting like this.’ Ewan came out of the shop as Jess was about to step in.

‘Hello again, Ewan.’ Jess smiled as he held the door open for her. ‘Africa hasn’t called you back then?’

‘Not yet,’ said Ewan. ‘Though there’s time still. I would like to go back one day, I‘ve only seen the middle bit so far. It’s a fascinating continent.’

‘I can imagine,’ replied Jess.

‘Look, erm, I don’t know if you’re interested, but I’m giving a talk on my experiences at Mondale House, the off-campus Uni place in town this Friday afternoon. I’d love it if you came… That’s if you want to of course?’

‘I’m sorry, Ewan, but I’m looking after my Nana at the moment. Friday afternoon is one of our together times. She’s a hundred years old the week after next. She’s telling me all about her wartime memories.’

‘Not to worry,’ said Ewan, obviously disappointed. ‘Maybe we could meet up for a drink sometime or coffee if you prefer?’

‘Again, I’m sorry, Ewan, but I do live with someone. I don’t think that would go down very well.’ She stepped past him into the shop. ‘Nice to bump into you again. Take care.’

‘I saw you with him the other, week,’ Ewan called after her. ‘It’s you who should take care, Jess. You can’t trust him.’

Jess grabbed a pack of Taylor’s filter coffee and a jar of her favourite instant. At the checkout she thought about Ewan’s warning. What did he mean by that? Was it just down to jealousy? Probably, but he did seem extremely earnest.

Calvin was in one of his better moods when she arrived home. He seemed overly delighted when he saw the coffee.

‘You got my text then? That’s good.’

Jess ignored the urge to tell him that his messages always got through. She wanted his mood to last as long as possible, she knew only too well how quickly it could change.

‘Pasta tonight? Or would you prefer something else?’

‘Pasta’s fine,’ he said. ‘Is there any of that wine left?’

The evening passed quietly. Calvin worked on his computer on the coffee table. Jess set hers up on the kitchen counter and finished her article. She proof read and filed it onto her computer desktop, ready to send. Then she checked her email and discovered a new offer from The Feminist Age magazine requesting an article on the increasing demand for women’s rights in Central Africa. She frowned. That would be hard to research; there wouldn’t be a vast amount of data at the library. The money was too good to turn down though; The Feminist Age was one of the better payers.

Jess doubted she could gather enough relevant information to make the job into a quality assignment, so she reluctantly replied to the email advising the editor to try to get a journalist of African heritage to take it on. She was just about to click send when she remembered Ewan. Three years working with a charity in Africa that helped women and families sort out their medical and social problems would have given him a mountain of experience. How would she go about finding him though? She couldn’t just wait outside Tesco Direct until he turned up. Then she remembered his invitation. She couldn’t let Nana down on Friday afternoon, but she could ring the Uni, someone there would have contact details.

Jess deleted the email and closed the lid of her laptop.

Next month’s rent coming up, she thought.

Calvin looked up from his own computer. He took a sip of wine and smiled at Jess.

‘You look rather pleased with yourself,’ he said.

‘I’ve just landed a plum assignment,’ she replied. ‘I need to interview someone to do a proper job of it though.’

‘Will I do?’ he asked, seriously.

‘Sorry, darling,’ Jess said. ‘In normal circumstances I wouldn’t look any further, but this time you’d have to be an expert on the subject of the political motivations of Rwandan women.’

‘Bugger that,’ said Calvin. ‘English women are still a mystery to me. One in particular.’

‘Sorry,’ said Jess, ‘I don’t mean to be unfathomable.’

‘Oh, not you,’ said Calvin.

‘Who else do you need to understand intimately?’ asked Jess, only half-jokingly.

‘Tania at Uni,’ said Calvin with feeling. ‘I never know where I stand with her.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Jess. ‘Some people are too deep to really get to know.’

‘I’ll keep working at it,’ said Calvin, more to himself than Jess.

Chapter 28

Jess

Calvin had always been an early bird but just recently he had gone beyond that and had become the worm that was up and about before the bird.

When Jess woke on Tuesday morning, Calvin had showered, eaten a morning breakfast of muesli and was now on his third cup of coffee. Jess couldn’t keep up with him on that front. More than three a day gave her the shakes. Calvin seemed to be able to drink it like water. Maybe that’s why he got so hyper.

He waved the coffee pot at her as she left the bedroom. She shook her head, yawned and accepted his offer of a peck on the cheek as she passed. She patted his shoulder in response.

‘Are you on Nana duty tonight?’ he asked, as if by way of small talk.

‘Yes, I’m going over for tea and I’ll be back some time tomorrow afternoon, depending on how she is. She’s started putting rouge cream on her—’

Calvin cut in.

‘Okay, well I might be out late myself. I’m playing squash with some of the lads from work, then we’re going to the Manvers Arms over at Lanersby. If it’s a lock-in, it could be a very late one.’

Jess bit her lip and managed to avoid responding to his interruption. She put two slices of thick bread in the toaster, poured