Unforgettable (Gloria Cook) - By Gloria Cook Page 0,68
to keep going up the last three steps. The next big breath hurt his insides and he grunted and yelled in pain as he stumbled, one step at a time, until his shaking feet made the summit and he was out in the corridor.
The malicious weight of Old Beady Eyes brought him down on his knees and the horse’s rounded belly cracked him on the head. ‘Bastard!’ he rasped under his breath, hating the rocking horse, but he had climbed every one of the fifteen steps.
Thankfully there was no one striding along the long corridor while he panted and wiped off his sweat and pulled in his breath. The muscles of his arms shaking like thin bendy rubber, he lifted Old Beady Eyes against the wall opposite to the bench, but not touching the wall. It was too dusty. He drank the water left for him on the bench in one lusty draught.
The next time he climbed up to the corridor he found the horrid mocking rocking horse had been washed clean and in places where its paint had not been worn away it was gleaming. Each day Finn made sure he left here with a spotless face and scrubbed hands, smelling of Lifebuoy soap.
One afternoon he was on his way with armfuls of tat for the steadily growing rubbish heap and met Tilly on her way in lugging a heavy flasket of dried laundry on her hip. As always she greeted him cheerfully, as if she had known him for years. ‘I popped over to Uncle Denny’s yesterday. Jenna is happily walking out with your friend Sam Lawry. She’s only allowed to say goodbye over the garden gate, mind. Uncle Denny has threatened him with all sorts if he tries to misbehave.’
‘Good for him, I should think so too,’ Finn replied, giving her a pleasant smile. She always blushed a little when he smiled at her and Finn knew she was a touch in awe of him. Once he had gazed at her intensely and this had sent her into twittering shyness. Tilly likely had a bit of a crush on him. He doubted Tilly knew much about what her expression ‘tries to misbehave’ meant. If only his smiles had a similar effect on Belle; if only she saw him as a masculine being. That she would speak enthusiastically about just him, rather than this idea dreamt up for him to partner Mrs R in producing an illustrated children’s book. It was marvellous of Mr Greg, Guy, and his mother to have such belief in his and Mrs R’s abilities, to encourage them with a new project and possible future, and it would be wonderful to work at home and spend so much more time with Eloise, but his feelings, his love and desire for Belle were uppermost in his mind.
In his free time, when he couldn’t think up a reason to go to The Orchards, he fashioned sketches of Belle together with Eloise. Of his beautiful baby sister sleeping peacefully in Belle’s arms and Eloise reaching up her tiny arms to Belle, and giving Belle the glory of her first smiles. And as much as he loved Eloise and Belle he resented and loathed Charlie Lawry.
Once when Finn had taken Eloise to The Orchards and was with Sam and Belle, Charlie had popped in to make a telephone call, causing tight worms of discontent to churn in Finn’s gut. Those beastly worms twisted into iron-cold jealousy when the wretched man had nuzzled Belle’s ear and laughed, ‘We’ll have to keep trying for a girl, darling. There’s still plenty of time.’ Finn knew it was wicked but he couldn’t help himself, for his aching desire for Belle grew with every minute of every day, and he wished Charlie would meet and be seduced by a femme fatale and desert Belle. Or meet some quick and painless predestined death.
He always kept one drawing of Belle folded up deep inside his trouser pocket so when sure he was completely alone he could gaze at it and love Belle. He would touch his heart and swear there would not be another woman for him, and to wait for years for the chance to have Belle if that was how it turned out to be.
‘It’s the christening of your little sister this Sunday afternoon, isn’t it?’ Tilly cheeped. ‘Uncle Denny, Jenna and the family have been invited, um . . . I–I,’ she stuttered and bit her lip. ‘I’ve got the afternoon off