Free Family Betrayal by Kitty Neale Page A

husband?’
    ‘He doesn't know either, do you, Steve?’
    ‘No, I don't,’ he said, wishing his wife would leave. His muscles tensed with nerves, hoping she wasn't up to mischief as usual. His hopes died when she spoke again.
    ‘I've just had Linda round to see me, Auntie Joan. The poor girl looks dreadful. She's got morningsickness, but worse, your George has taken to giving her a clout or two.’
    Joan paled. ‘Did she tell you that?’
    ‘Yes. I think the girl needed someone to confide in, but even if she hadn't, I ain't deaf and can hear a lot through the walls.’
    Steve twisted the last replacement screw into place, wanting only to be away from this conversation. Ivy was stirring again – something she took great pleasure in doing – yet he was at a loss to know why. Like him, she had no love for the Drapers, so why the bloody hell had she accepted a house in the alley?
    ‘Right, the job's done and I'm off,’ he said loudly.
    Neither woman acknowledged him as he scurried out. One of these days Ivy would go too far and he dreaded the consequences. Dan Draper would never take it out on his niece and instead would get Danny or George to take it out on him. He had seen some of their handiwork and the thought made his guts churn.
    Joan hardly heard the door as it closed behind Steve. She kept her gaze fixed on Ivy and fought to hide her dislike of Dan's niece, but knew she was failing as usual. There was no family resemblance, and Joan wondered how Dan's brother had produced such an ugly offspring – one with an ugly personality to match. The young woman seemed to enjoy causingher discomfort, taking every opportunity to make trouble.
    Even as a child, Ivy had been sly. She could understand Dan helping both mother and child out when his brother had been killed during the war, but was at a loss to understand why he continued to help Ivy when she became an adult. The last house in the row should have been earmarked for Chris, a home for him when he decided to marry, but instead Dan had tipped up money to someone at the council for Ivy to move in with her husband. Not only that, he had gone on to give Ivy's husband a job in the firm.
    ‘I reckon you should give George a talking-to, Auntie Joan. It ain't right that he's hitting that poor girl.’
    Joan, doubting the truth of Ivy's story, ground her teeth together. ‘I think you must have got the wrong end of the stick. George wouldn't hit his wife.’
    ‘Ask Linda herself if you don't believe me.’
    ‘Oh, I will, you can be sure of that,’ Joan snapped. ‘Now if you don't mind, I've got work to do.’
    ‘All right, I'm off,’ Ivy said, a false look of concern on her face before she turned to leave. ‘I hope I haven't upset you, Auntie Joan, but I thought you should know what George has been up to.’
    Joan made no comment, but as the door closed behind Ivy, she raised a shaky hand to rub it across her forehead, still unable to believe that Georgewas hitting his wife. She knew that Dan had once been a criminal, and that as they grew up he had roped the boys in, yet he was also a gentleman, bringing the boys up to respect women. Dan might rule her, but he had never laid a finger on her and certainly wouldn't stand for the lads laying into their wives.
    Dan had protected them all, yet in the past her nerves had been shattered by the police raids. Dan had laughed at her worrying, telling her they were too clever to get caught, but the only way she had been able to cope was to bury her fears behind a barrier of indifference, all her energies focused on her home. Of course, nowadays they were respectable, running a family business, and thank goodness she no longer had anything to worry about. At least she hoped so, but still she sensed that something was going on, and fear fluttered like a tiny bird against her ribcage.
    Joan scuttled to the kitchen. Was Ivy telling the truth? Was George really hitting his wife? With gritted teeth she tackled the cupboards again,