Free Breach of Faith by Andrea Hughes Page B

just didn’t give me the chance. You were too busy accusing.” Frank batted my hand away with his own, “what we did was a mistake, you know that.” He turned away but not before I saw the sorrow in his eyes, “I’m sorry too, Kate. I’m sorry I considered your friendship worthwhile, and I’m sorry I started to develop feelings for you beyond a simple friendship.” He turned back to face me, his hand rising, stopping just short of my cheek before falling limply to his side, “and I’m very, very sorry I made love to you, Kate.”
    “Frank –”
    “I think you’d better go, Kate.”
    “But –”
    “Please, Kate, just go. I accept your apology but there’s nothing more to say.”
    “I have to tell you something –”
    “You just have. Thankyou. Now, I’d like to be alone.”
    I walked slowly to the door. “I’m not sorry we made love that night.” I grasped the handle but was halted by Frank’s voice. He was irritated but obviously amused too.
    Keeping my back turned to him, my hand still clutching the door knob, I squared my shoulders. I was not going to let him see the tears welling in my eyes. He may have made me feel like a useless friend but he was not going to take away my dignity. Not even he could do that.
    “Kate, there’s something I should tell you.”

Chapter fourteen
    1 November
    “What happened then?” Martha was on the edge of her seat, agog with curiosity. “Did he declare undying love?”
    I raised my eyebrows in exasperation and elbowed her in the ribs. “After telling me he’s sorry he’d ever met me?”
    “He also told you that he had feelings for you,” Martha reminded.
    “He was sorry about that too.”
    “He liked you enough to take you to bed,” Martha replied softly with a glance at Tom. “And possibly get you pregnant.”
    “Don’t remind me.”
    “So? What did he tell you?”
    I hesitated, flustered. “Doesn’t matter,” I mumbled.
    “Kate?”
    Face burning, I finally caught my friend’s eye. “He told me that I really should use a mirror when I get dressed.”
    “What?” Martha scratched her head, “I never saw Frank as some kind of fashion guru.”
    I crossed my arms across my chest and spoke through clenched teeth. “He’s not. He just needs to grow up.”
    “Kate, you’re not making any sense. What –”
    “He pointed out, between chuckles, that I’d tucked the back of my skirt into the waistband of my undies.”
    Silence.
    “Oh!”
    “Is that all you’re going to say?”
    “Which ones?” Funny, squeaky voice.
    “Which ones?”
    Martha was trying hard not to laugh, “which undies?”
    “You know which ones.”
    “Black, lacy, bare-bummers?”
    Embarrassed silence.
    Martha snorted, giving in to her mirth, “oh, Kate. How … um … how much did you show?”
    “Enough,” I answered shortly.
    Martha let out a hoot of laughter, “I’m sorry, Kate, I really am, but you have to see the funny side. Do you … um … do you have a respectable bum?”
    Turning a withering stare onto Martha, I summoned every last speck of dignity I could muster. Back straight and shoulders squared I replied, “good enough to scare a teenager, my friend. Good enough to scare a teenager.”
    *
    I lay down on the sofa and closed my eyes. Tom would be waking soon and a wave of pregnancy exhaustion had overtaken me. Ten minutes, that’s all I needed, ten minutes rest.
    A small smile turned up the corners of my mouth as I thought about the embarrassing incident with my skirt. It was either laugh or cry about that one and I really didn’t have the energy to cry right now. The smile soon disappeared though and I put my arm over my face, effectively blocking out all light, all reality.
    “So what happened,” Martha had asked, “when you told Frank about the baby? When he realised that he could soon be a daddy?”
    My silence had answered the question more succinctly, more plainly than any words ever could.
    “Oh Kate. You have to tell him. He has a