by Cathy Sharp
‘Billy, Billy,’ she whispered, her hands in his hair, stroking his nape and then down his smooth back and over his hips. ‘Oh, it’s so nice. I didn’t know … I didn’t know it could be so lovely …’
‘Nor did I,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I’ve wanted you so much but there’s been no one else for me, Ellie love. I never want to lose you or have anyone else. You’ve always been my love, even before we went to St Saviour’s.’
‘I didn’t always know,’ she confessed, ‘but then I did and now …’ She arched as he touched her between her thighs and she trembled with desire, her breathing fast and excited as he moved on top of her, and then he was inside her and she cried out with pleasure, feeling the joy of being his, of being one with the man she’d loved for so long. ‘I love you so much, Billy, and I love this …’
‘You’re all I ever wanted,’ Billy panted and then felt the climax as he came inside the protective sheath he’d used. ‘Oh, hell, I’m sure it’s not supposed to be that quick …’
Mary Ellen clutched at him and giggled, kissing him because he looked so disappointed. ‘Never mind, we’re only learning,’ she said. ‘You and me together as it should be, Billy. I don’t want you to be all practised and clever at it – I want to know you’ve never been anyone else’s.’
‘Oh, Ellie love,’ he whispered. ‘You make everything right, you always do – even when my ma died, you made it better. We’ll learn how to do it proper and make it good for you …’
‘I’ll enjoy practising so don’t get good too soon, Billy,’ she teased and started to tickle him, laughing as he retaliated and then started kissing her again and touching her, before leaving her abruptly to go to the bathroom. When he came back, Mary Ellen knew he wanted to do it again and she smiled up at him, welcoming him back to her arms, feeling the joy of loving and being loved.
And this time it was wonderful …
Rose bent to lay Mary Ellen’s wedding flowers on the double grave of her mother and father. Mary Ellen had given them to her and asked her to do it rather than toss the bouquet as was often the custom.
‘I want Ma and Pa to have them,’ she’d said, her eyes moist. ‘They couldn’t be with us, but this way they can share.’
‘You’re a lovely girl, Mary Ellen,’ Rose had said and smiled. ‘I’m glad we’re friends, love. Be happy – it’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.’
‘Thanks, Rose – and you be happy too. It’s what they would have wanted for us both …’
Rose straightened up and walked away. She felt a bit lonely and couldn’t face going back to the council flat now that both Mary Ellen and Marion had gone. Sister Beatrice had offered her a room in the nurses’ home and she intended to move in as soon as she could pack her things.
She was thoughtful as she left the gloomy churchyard behind. She wasn’t on duty that evening, but perhaps she would call in and see how things were for an hour or so before she went home.
She walked the last few yards up Halfpenny Street, studying the rather grim exterior of St Saviour’s; from the outside it looked forbidding, but inside it was a happy place, a place of hope and renewal. Rose enjoyed working here; she liked her fellow nurses and the carers, and she respected Sister Beatrice, even though there had been times when she disliked her, but now that was all forgotten.
‘Ah, Staff Nurse Rose,’ Sister said, coming along the landing towards her. ‘You’re not on duty this evening?’
‘No, but I just thought I would come in and see if there was anything that needed to be done.’
‘Feeling a bit lost without Mary Ellen? You’ve looked after her since your own mother died, haven’t you?’
‘I tried, even though she lived here. I tried to do what I could …’
‘And I’m sure you succeeded. Mary Ellen shows a good example to all our children and I believe she will make an excellent teacher. I am sure you must be proud of her?’
‘Yes …’ Rose smiled and the clouds fell away. ‘I am proud of her, Sister.’
‘As am I – of her and Billy,’ Sister Beatrice said. ‘Well, we’re quiet for the moment, but that’s usually the way it is before the storm breaks. Shall we have a nice cup of tea and a biscuit before the deluge as it were?’
‘Yes, why not,’ Rose agreed, suddenly feeling content as never before. ‘I’ll go down and fetch a tray …’
St Saviour’s will give them hope …
Don’t miss the first two novels in the Halfpenny Street series, both available to buy now.
Click here to buy now 978-0-00-811845-7
Click here to buy now 978-0-00-811848-8
Click here to buy now 978-0-00-811851-8
And don’t miss Cathy’s brilliant series set in the East End, featuring three plucky heroines.
Click here to buy now 978000816859-9
Click here to buy now 9780008168629
Click here to buy now 9780008168650
About the Author
Cathy Sharp is happily married and lives with her husband in a small Cambridgeshire village. They like visiting Spain together and enjoy the benefits of sunshine and pleasant walks, while at home they love their garden and visiting the Norfolk seaside.
Cathy loves writing because it gives pleasure to others, she finds writing an extension of herself and it gives her great satisfaction. Cathy says, ‘There is nothing like seeing your book in print, because so much loving care has been given to bringing that book into being.’
She is also the author of The Orphans of Halfpenny Street, The Little Runaways and Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans, the first three novels in the Halfpenny Street series.
Also by Cathy Sharp
The Orphans of Halfpenny Street
The Little Runaways
Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans
A Daughter’s Sorrow
A Daughter’s Choice
A Daughter’s Dream
About the Publisher
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