The Graft by Martina Cole Read Free Book Online Page A

her more than she would have thought possible. For the first time ever Tammy was afraid of him.
     
    He had come after her many times over her spending, it was a family joke, but this was different. Even she knew she had gone over the top this time. The fact that she secretly felt guilty made her even angrier than her husband.
     
    She was his wife , surely she was entitled to spend his money? Anyone would think they were all on the breadline, the way Nick carried on. She would brave it out as she had in the past.
     
    ‘You can afford it, what’s the matter with you!’
     
    She was shouting back now through sheer force of habit. As Nick drew himself up to his full height and bellowed back at her she was reminded of just how big he was.
     
    ‘Eighteen hundred fucking quid on booze for that crowd of fucking leeches you call mates?’
     
    He was spitting with anger now, his face close enough to hers that she could smell his breath.
     
    ‘Three hundred sobs on food for that load of anorexic cunts! None of them has eaten a meal since their last pregnancy. Are you having a fucking laugh or what!’
     
    Tammy was annoyed now and bellowed back.
     
    ‘Who the fuck do you think you are talking to, eh? I am your wife !’
     
    Nick was staring down at her in utter disbelief.
     
    ’Ain’t I got enough on my plate without you bankrupting us at every opportunity? Is it an illness with you, an overwhelming urge to use the credit cards that you can’t fucking resist for even one day!’
     
    She sighed to antagonise him even further. It was a bored sound, guaranteed to aggravate the life out of him. She had perfected it over the years and now she knew just how to imply someone was stupid in their relationship and it certainly wasn’t her.
     
    It worked. He was beside himself now.
     
    ‘Two grand on one lunch! That is a car to some people, or a fucking foreign holiday. Ain’t you got no concept of the real world at all?’
     
    Tammy was ashamed, but she wouldn’t show it. It wasn’t even as if the lunch had been a resounding success. In fact, she regretted going at all. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. Give him ammunition for the future when she next wanted a spend up.
     
    ‘Oh, fuck off. We can afford it, you know we can. What am I suddenly married to - the long-lost Marx Brother fucking Cheapo! So I spent a few quid. So what? Big fucking deal.’
     
    She dragged herself from the bed, pushing him out of her way as she went.
     
    ‘The way you carry on, Nick, anyone would think we were on our uppers. Money is for spending . . .’
     
    He lowered his voice as he snarled, ‘Do you know what it would look like if the papers got hold of this bill, eh?’
     
    He shoved it none too gently into her face.
     
    ‘That boy dying in hospital and his poor mother going back to her council flat, and you are dropping more on a lunch than they could spend on his funeral?’
     
    It pulled her up short. What people said about her was always foremost in Tammy’s mind. He watched with a satisfied expression on his face as the fear gradually took hold. She was sorry now, he could see it on her face, and as usual when he had won the argument with Tammy, he felt bad. He had only said that to frighten her and he had achieved his end.
     
    Nevertheless he pushed the point home.
     
    ‘This has got to stop, Tammy. You have to cease with the spending, love. It looks bad. I mean, by the time you had got your hair and nails done, bought new clothes and all the rest of it . . . I found the Lakeside receipts as well by the way . . . you had dropped over three grand yesterday. In a few hours you spent more than many people earn in a month.’
     
    He was finally getting through to her and he knew it.
     
    ‘I’m sorry, Nick, but you know what I’m like, I can’t help it.’
     
    He sighed.
     
    ‘I’ll have that credit card removed surgically if necessary. This is your last chance. One more spending spree like that, Tams, and