A Broken Family Read Online Free

you!’
    ‘That’s it, bring me down again, but you seem to forget that you only worked in a dress shop when I met you. ’
    ‘It wasn’t just any old shop! I had to improve my diction, posture and dress sense before I could gain a position in Knightsbridge. We catered for the wealthy and fashionable.’
    ‘Yeah, and you still try to emulate them,’ George said bitterly.
    ‘No doubt you’d prefer me to sound like a fishwife, but let me tell you I’m proud of my achievements.’
    ‘If that’s the case, how come nobody around here knows anything about it? Instead you’ve fabricated the story that you were born in Chelsea, of middle-class parents.’
    ‘I won’t have anyone looking down on me.’
    ‘No, you prefer to lord it up over them by pretending to be something that you’re not.’
    ‘You didn’t complain when we met,’ Celia told him, annoyed to find tears welling in her eyes. ‘In fact you said you loved my voice, my poise, and everything else about me. Lately though, all you do is criticise me and I have no idea why.’
    George shook his head, sighed, then said, ‘Yeah, you’re right and I’m sorry. It’s just that I wish you’d lighten up; learn to live a little, to have a bit of fun.’
    ‘We went to the dance at the Conservative Club, and there’s another one in a couple of weeks.’
    ‘You can’t call that fun. It’s all so formal, dress suits and cocktail dresses. We’re only in our forties, but we’re becoming a couple of old fuddy-duddies, and when was the last time we made love?’
    Celia stared at her husband, aghast. George didn’t seem to appreciate that lately she’d been worn out with looking after Thomas, sometimes so worried about him that she slept in a chair beside his bed. She didn’t bother to point this out; George would only say she was mollycoddling Thomas again, so she rose to her feet, only saying, ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
    ‘Yeah, do that, and then how about a bit of slap and tickle?’
    ‘George,’ she cried, appalled, ‘what on earth has come over you? It’s four o’clock on a Sunday afternoon.’
    ‘As prissy as ever,’ he said bitterly. ‘I knew you’d react like that, Celia. In fact the only fun I have with you nowadays is in winding you up. Forget the tea. I’m going out.’
    With those words George abruptly rose to his feet, and as he walked out of the room Celia chased after him. ‘George, where are you going?’
    ‘For a walk,’ he snapped while pulling on his overcoat. Moments later he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
    Celia just stood there for moment, brows furrowed. George had changed lately, had become sharp in his criticism of her, but she felt that something else was going on, something underlying his odd behaviour. Was it to do with his business? Was George having financial problems and keeping it from her? No, that couldn’t be it, she decided, he was as busy as ever.
    Whatever the underlying problem was, Celia was sure that it wasn’t anything to do with their marriage. After all, she was a good wife and mother. It was George who had changed, not her.

Chapter Three
    On Monday morning the fog had cleared and Carol’s mother, Daphne Cole, stood at the bottom of the stairs to shout impatiently, ‘Carol, get up! If you don’t get a move on you’ll be late for work.’
    ‘Yeah, I’m coming,’ she called back sleepily. Carol hated Monday morning, and her boring job in the shoe shop did nothing to inspire her to get out of bed. She didn’t mind most of the customers, but dreaded those that had smelly feet, especially if they wanted her to take their foot measurements. However, as she became fully awake Carol thought about the shop fitter who had caught her eye. Now
he
was worth getting up for.
    It didn’t take Carol long to get ready, but she wished she didn’t have to put on the black, pencil skirt and white blouse that all the staff had to wear. She needed something striking to be noticed, and as