the dregs of society, and she couldn’t wait for this area to be demolished.’
‘And?’
She shrugged. ‘I put the phone down. No way was I going to listen to that. Let’s face it, she used to live not far from here, so who the hell does she think she is? Princess
Margaret? Oh, and our Cal was mixed up with Johnny Blunt’s lot, but he wouldn’t let me push him home. What the hell have you started, Frank?’
‘A fight for children’s dignity,’ he answered. ‘It’s time for some lawyers to start specializing in the defence of children. Kids have the same inborn rights as
everybody else. Just because they’re young and foolish, they get branded as criminal, and that turns them criminal. A beaten child becomes a poor parent. It has to stop. Somebody has to stand
up for children’s rights.’
She went to make a pot of tea. Frank hadn’t been home, so she cooked bacon and egg for him at the same time. He’d had similar food this morning, but beggars couldn’t be
choosers.
She had to cut up the bacon, since he had just one hand, while the egg could go into a sandwich if she cooked the yolk right through. Having seen his vulnerability, she liked him all the more.
How many inches away from loving him did she stand? Oh, she’d known the answer to that one for a while. But she warned herself at the same time, as any relationship between the two of them
promised to be fiery.
He reminded her of herself, because once he developed strong feelings, he preached his gospel and entered killer mode. Frank had abandoned the Catholic faith. His attitude was that anyone who
lived a decent life was a good enough person; if there was a heaven, nobody had an unfair advantage on account of a particular creed. He was probably right.
Clearly ravenous, he ate his egg sandwich while Polly fed him pieces of bacon each time he paused. She wiped bits of egg from his lips, realizing that these moments were becoming more intimate
with every tick of the clock. The man was flawed, adorable and very, very human. She was feeding him as she might have fed a toddler.
‘It’s written in the stars in your eyes,’ he said, feeling foolish after delivering the statement.
‘Don’t talk with your mouth full. Mother Moo would be so ashamed, she’d go green and buy a different son.’
‘If I had both hands, you’d be in trouble.’
‘Shut up and eat, because you’ve had a bad shock.’
Their eyes remained locked as he ate his way through her offerings. By the end of the strange repast, Polly was in no two minds. She couldn’t win this one. Much as she needed to dedicate
herself to the care of her twin, Frank Charleson was going to be a major player in her life. It was written in the stars glistening in two pairs of eyes. ‘It can’t happen yet,’
she whispered. ‘It just can’t.’
‘I’ll wait.’
‘Until you’ve got both hands?’
‘Until forever.’
‘Quite the romantic, then?’
He nodded. ‘Like my dad. I still look after his other half.’
‘Your mam?’
‘His lover. She’s a sweet woman, lives in a ground-floor flat over in Walton. I make sure she’s comfortable and fed, and we talk about him. Dad ignored my mother, and that was
how he managed to keep his sanity. But she still succeeded in killing him with all her complaints and fads, so he mustn’t have managed to ignore her completely.’
She wondered how Frank could live with that horrible woman.
He read her thoughts. ‘She’s my mother, Polly. Whatever she is, she gave me life, and she’s a frightened and very stupid woman. I seldom so much as eat with her. As far as
business goes, I have a free hand.’ He grinned. ‘Just the one free hand at the moment, but I could lose even that if I walked out of the house. She hangs on like a bulldog. Or is it
bullbitch?’
‘A kind of blackmail, then?’
‘Oh, yes. Most women are manipulative, but she’s special. Diabetic and eating herself to death, so I doubt she could manage the job
‘And?’
She shrugged. ‘I put the phone down. No way was I going to listen to that. Let’s face it, she used to live not far from here, so who the hell does she think she is? Princess
Margaret? Oh, and our Cal was mixed up with Johnny Blunt’s lot, but he wouldn’t let me push him home. What the hell have you started, Frank?’
‘A fight for children’s dignity,’ he answered. ‘It’s time for some lawyers to start specializing in the defence of children. Kids have the same inborn rights as
everybody else. Just because they’re young and foolish, they get branded as criminal, and that turns them criminal. A beaten child becomes a poor parent. It has to stop. Somebody has to stand
up for children’s rights.’
She went to make a pot of tea. Frank hadn’t been home, so she cooked bacon and egg for him at the same time. He’d had similar food this morning, but beggars couldn’t be
choosers.
She had to cut up the bacon, since he had just one hand, while the egg could go into a sandwich if she cooked the yolk right through. Having seen his vulnerability, she liked him all the more.
How many inches away from loving him did she stand? Oh, she’d known the answer to that one for a while. But she warned herself at the same time, as any relationship between the two of them
promised to be fiery.
He reminded her of herself, because once he developed strong feelings, he preached his gospel and entered killer mode. Frank had abandoned the Catholic faith. His attitude was that anyone who
lived a decent life was a good enough person; if there was a heaven, nobody had an unfair advantage on account of a particular creed. He was probably right.
Clearly ravenous, he ate his egg sandwich while Polly fed him pieces of bacon each time he paused. She wiped bits of egg from his lips, realizing that these moments were becoming more intimate
with every tick of the clock. The man was flawed, adorable and very, very human. She was feeding him as she might have fed a toddler.
‘It’s written in the stars in your eyes,’ he said, feeling foolish after delivering the statement.
‘Don’t talk with your mouth full. Mother Moo would be so ashamed, she’d go green and buy a different son.’
‘If I had both hands, you’d be in trouble.’
‘Shut up and eat, because you’ve had a bad shock.’
Their eyes remained locked as he ate his way through her offerings. By the end of the strange repast, Polly was in no two minds. She couldn’t win this one. Much as she needed to dedicate
herself to the care of her twin, Frank Charleson was going to be a major player in her life. It was written in the stars glistening in two pairs of eyes. ‘It can’t happen yet,’
she whispered. ‘It just can’t.’
‘I’ll wait.’
‘Until you’ve got both hands?’
‘Until forever.’
‘Quite the romantic, then?’
He nodded. ‘Like my dad. I still look after his other half.’
‘Your mam?’
‘His lover. She’s a sweet woman, lives in a ground-floor flat over in Walton. I make sure she’s comfortable and fed, and we talk about him. Dad ignored my mother, and that was
how he managed to keep his sanity. But she still succeeded in killing him with all her complaints and fads, so he mustn’t have managed to ignore her completely.’
She wondered how Frank could live with that horrible woman.
He read her thoughts. ‘She’s my mother, Polly. Whatever she is, she gave me life, and she’s a frightened and very stupid woman. I seldom so much as eat with her. As far as
business goes, I have a free hand.’ He grinned. ‘Just the one free hand at the moment, but I could lose even that if I walked out of the house. She hangs on like a bulldog. Or is it
bullbitch?’
‘A kind of blackmail, then?’
‘Oh, yes. Most women are manipulative, but she’s special. Diabetic and eating herself to death, so I doubt she could manage the job
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