Love Letters From the Grave

‘You mean – divorce?’ George stood up quickly, moving to the fireplace where he could see Molly’s face.

He didn’t sound terribly surprised.

Molly nodded. ‘I do love you, George, but I …’

‘There’s someone else,’ he finished for her.

She nodded again, her face ablaze with shame.

Then he shocked her still more. ‘It’s Charlie, I assume?’ When she didn’t answer immediately, he went on: ‘You should give it some serious thought before taking such drastic action. Charlie’s a family man with three, nearly four children to support. I’m not sure Muriel will let him go all that easily.’ He crossed to Molly’s side and picked up her limp hand. ‘And we have a comfortable life, Molly. An exciting, comfortable life. You should think twice before giving that up, too.’

‘I know, George. Every word of that is true,’ said Molly, fighting to hold back tears. ‘And I wasn’t looking for anything else, I promise you. But with Charlie, everything is different.’

George let out a bitter laugh.

‘Oh, I’m sure everything’s very different. And I can’t say I’m entirely shocked. I always thought there was the possibility that you might ask me for a divorce because of … my sexual difficulties.’

‘George, that isn’t it at all!’ cried Molly. ‘I have always loved and respected you, been true to you. I’d never dreamed of asking for a divorce until meeting … him. And I’ve been true to my vows, George. I’ve no intention of having relations until after I’m divorced.’

‘You haven’t already?’ snapped George.

‘No, we haven’t.’

George’s face paled to a sickly grey. ‘Does everyone know? The people at the factory, are they remembering the silly old confirmed bachelor who married the beautiful girl from work? Does Muriel know?’

‘Muriel may know by now.’ Molly slipped an arm around her husband’s waist. ‘But nobody’s laughing at you, George. Least of all me. You have given me a beautiful life, and I know that it’s my own fault if I haven’t appreciated that enough. I would never allow anyone to laugh at you.’

George nodded slowly, passing a hand over his creased features.

‘I know that. And I understand, Molly. I just need … I need some time to think about it.’

‘I never meant to hurt you,’ said Molly, starting to cry again. ‘It’s the last thing I wanted.’

‘Don’t cry, old girl.’ George patted her shoulder in a familiar, comforting manner. ‘We’ll work things out.’

And Molly truly hoped, for all their sakes, that they really could.





Chapter 16




* * *



And Baby Makes Six



* * *





Pillow talk, pillow talk;

Another night of bein' alone with pillow talk

When it's all said and done,

Two heads together can be better than one



Doris Day, Pillow Talk



Charlie arrived home to find his mother-in-law pacing anxiously on the front porch. His heart plummeted as soon as he saw her, very evidently waiting for him.

He’d told Muriel that he was meeting Danny to go bowling; maybe she’d checked with Danny, somehow, and his friend hadn’t managed to cover for him convincingly enough. Given what he was planning to do, it seemed odd to hope that Muriel hadn’t found out about him and Molly, but he had wanted her to hear it from him. Directly. In the strange circumstances in which they’d found themselves, it seemed like the decent way to proceed.

‘Where have you been?’ cried Betty as he flung open the car door. ‘Muriel’s been asking for you for an hour!’

‘Why?’ said Charlie, not answering her question. ‘Is everything okay?’

Betty grabbed him by the arm to propel him through the door more quickly. ‘She’s in labor, poor child.’

The baby wasn’t due for another ten days. Charlie ran to the bedroom from where he could hear strenuous screaming and some choice curses that the other children did not need to know.

‘Muriel, I’m here.’ Charlie ran to Muriel’s side of their bed and reached for her hand. She gripped it as if she wanted to crush his bones. ‘How are you doing?’

‘I’m having the baby too soon!’ she screamed. ‘How do you think I’m doing?’

‘Okay, okay.’ He turned to Betty who was hovering in the doorway with Detty and one of the twins. Where the other one had crawled to, he had no idea. ‘Betty, do you think she needs to go to the hospital? I know most births take place at home once you’ve had as many children as Muriel, but what with the complications with the twins …’

‘Take me to the hospital!’ roared Muriel before Betty even had time to reply. ‘This second!’

‘Right.’ Charlie hauled Muriel into a roughly-seated position and scooped her up into his arms. ‘The car’s right outside.’

‘I’ll take care of the little ones,’ said Betty, herding the children away from the bedroom door. ‘You just look after Muriel and the baby.’

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