Backstitched and Stabbed by Tilly Wallace

Author:Tilly Wallace
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ribbonwood Press

Tuesday afternoon Frank loitered in the shade waiting for me to lock up.

“Hello, Frank,” I said as the key twisted in the lock.

“Gracie. Can you spare a little time for a tired old soldier?” He touched the brim of his hat and angled it down to shield his eyes from the late afternoon sun.

I slid my hand through his offered arm. “There is nothing old or tired about you. I would describe you as all charm and irresistible intrigue. And of course I have time for you.”

He chuffed a soft laugh. “So there is hope for me, that I might yet find a tiny space in your heart?”

His words cut me. There would always be a place for him in my affections, as the much-loved uncle of Theo. As for something bigger than that… Well, never again would I be the victim of some man’s games, such as those one brother had played on another. Nor would I allow one man’s secrets to derail the path I now walked.

“You know that you are a much-loved member of our little family unit. Theo adores you and I suspect you are his favourite uncle.” A little flattery would soothe his ego and brush away the conversation he tried to initiate.

“Really? He spends so much more time with Joseph.” We emerged on Lambton Quay, and he opened the door of his motorcar for me.

“Ah, but Joseph is a policeman. You…are not. There is a hint of mystery about what exactly you do, and I suspect Theo is convinced you are a spy. While my son is asleep, he dreams that you are off conducting daring missions and on adventures that you cannot tell us about because they are secret.” I winked and tapped the side of my nose.

Frank chuckled as he started the Ford and climbed back in. “Favourite, huh?”

His grin warmed my insides, and I melted like chocolate left out in the sun. He was the most striking man when he smiled and the light illuminated those auburn eyes.

“Shall we take a stroll in the gardens?” I wasn’t sure what he had planned, but I didn’t want to be too long as Theo and Dad expected me home.

“If you’d like. I’ve done some digging like you asked about that chap.” He steered the motorcar along the road and around the corner.

Once he parked the Ford outside the Botanic Gardens, we found an empty park bench and sat facing the fountain. Frank ran his arm along the back of the bench and his body offered protection from the slight breeze. “He was a funny fellow that Hammond. Seemed to spread himself thin across Wellington. Some nights he hung out at a pub up Willis Street called The Scrum and Tackle. That’s run by a former rugby player and lads gather there to drink and discuss rugby in winter and cricket over summer. Bit of a rough crowd though, and it’s known for more than a few brawls. Ricky was also rumoured to do a spot of waitering at a classy place on Courtney Place where our sort is turned away at the door.

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