Faith In Love Read Online Free PDF

(Not that I would, that would be invasion of privacy.  Unthinkable!)
     
    There you are, it doesn't say, didn't think it would.  Not written in at all.  (I know I shouldn't have sneaked a peek but you get so curious about your kids, especially if you've only got the one.) I'm being protective really, looking out for her.  Poor little thing, she hasn't got a big sister or anyone to light the way ahead for her; has to do it all herself.  I know just how that feels, being an only child myself.  It's so difficult, especially when you're at that sort of age, when your hormones start stirring.  That's when you're most in need of someone on your side, who can see your point of view without sitting in judgment.  I know I was. 
     
    Right.  Now.  That's nicely sealed up again.  Looks almost untouched by human hand.  I'll just put it back where I found it.  She'll be none the wiser.
     
    I don't suppose I'll ever discover who that pretty little missive is from.  A west London postmark, but that doesn't tell me anything.  An unsolved puzzle like this could become quite an irritant if dwelt upon for long.  I must try very hard to forget about it. 
     
    What's the time?  Oh, it's past six.  Carol could come back at any time.  I'd better make sure to look busy when she arrives – busy and innocent. 
     
    ~ ~ ~
     
    Whoops, Don's back first, that means a thumping great pair of size twelves on her lovely envelope.  Hope it's not still raining. 
     
    "Hallo, love.  Not wet, are you?"
     
    "Why, worried about the carpet?"
     
    "No, you of course.  I'm a concerned and considerate wife."
     
    "Oh, yes, still Valentine's Day, I get it.  You're lucky, I did remember, just like I said I would and I've got us a little bottle of wine for a change, 'cause I know you can't stand lager –"
     
    "I'm not really a drinker, Don, you know that, unless it's champagne of course."
     
    "I'm not made of money, Faith.  But still, special occasion, as we said.  Bottle of wine and, look here, box of chocolates!  Now, you can't turn your nose up at that."
     
    "You're right I can't.  And you can eat this sugary little cake I brought back from the shop."
     
    "Suits me.  Then we can have an early night."
     
    "Don!  It's quarter to seven."
     
    "Well, a bit later then.  We can cook up a bit more of that steak and some chips and take it all into the bedroom and have a feast by the fire."
     
    "It's not lit!"
     
    "It will be.  And you can wear that red outfit you wore last night."
     
    "Well, Don, that sounds great.  You can be pretty surprising yourself, after all these years."
     
    "Cheers!  It's a Special Occasion!"
     
     
    Tuesday, February 15
     
    "You feeling better today, Faith?"
     
    "Yes, Mr. Owen.  I was all right yesterday too.  I was in all day."
     
    "In body perhaps.  But not in spirit." 
     
    "Yes, Mr. Owen."
     
     
    Wednesday, February 16

    (Faith stands in the shop looking out the window.  It is midmorning.  Pearl is on her break, so Faith is alone.  Faith is looking for Lesbians.)
     
    They're everywhere!  Once you've seen one, they pop up all over the place!  It's amazing.  I never knew it.  I must have seen dozens now, every one of them different, and not one looks like they do in the videos. 

    There may be some that do though, somewhere else.  Maybe there are hundreds of others around the country, different sorts in different places.  There may be posh ones in Knightsbridge, black ones in Brixton, ones with red hair in Inverness.  Maybe some live in villages and wear tweeds and smoke pipes.  (No, not pipes; I don't think they do.  I think that's probably a myth.  I couldn't smoke a pipe, not if you paid me!)
     
    They're all ages, though.  That one walking past right now must be about nineteen – the same age as I was when I got married.  She looks very sure of herself, though, I certainly wasn't at that age.  The one that goes in the newsagent first thing in the morning, she's not