A Daughter's Choice (2 page)

She was roused by the roar of a car engine and then a sudden stillness which was broken by Ben's angry voice. ‘I tell you you're kidding yourself if you think you can get our Mick to marry you!'

‘Will you keep your voice down?' hissed Sarah. ‘I only said I was glad he was home.'

‘Among other things – like his having sailed round the world while I stayed in my own back yard. That he's exciting while I'm a stick-in-the-mud.'

‘It's true! I don't know why you're so offended by it. But it's not as if I'm not fond of you. I want us still to be friends.' Sarah's whisper carried straight up through Katie's open window.

‘Friends?' sneered Ben. ‘Thanks a lot! I want to get married. It's time I was married. I want me own place – and you're the only girl I've ever loved.'

‘Shhh! That's because I'm the only girl you've ever asked out.'

‘How do you know? You were missing for years. Anyway, it shows I'm faithful if that was true.' Ben had lowered his voice now and Katie scrambled from beneath the bedcovers and knelt up at the window with her elbows on the sill to listen closely.

‘Oh, you don't understand women at all,' said Sarah in an exasperated voice.

‘I understand you! You need to be the centre of attraction because you're the piggy in the middle in your family. Always jealous of Davy because he was a boy and resenting Siobhan because she was the baby and your dad fussed over her. Now you're jealous of Katie.'

‘I am not!' Sarah's voice had risen again. ‘But you
do
spoil her.'

‘Well, that's only natural in a family like ours.'

‘So you say. Anyway I don't want to talk about her. We were talking about us and staying friends.'

There was a silence which Ben broke. ‘I suppose I'm not rich enough? But I've worked hard, Sal! I've got money.' He sounded desperate.

‘It's got nothing to do with money!' Sarah's voice was incensed. ‘I married Max, didn't I, and we were broke half the time?'

‘You married him because you didn't want your Siobhan beating you to the altar.'

Sarah gasped. ‘That's a mean thing to say, Ben Ryan, and it's not true! I don't know why I go out with you when all you do is insult me. Just because I told you I'd written a few letters to your Mick and said I liked him, there's no need …'

‘Letters is it now? I thought it was postcards?' he said in a furious voice.

‘Well, it was letters. It was him who sent the postcards after Max was killed. Lovely ones with beaches and palm trees and sunshine. He wanted to cheer me up. He's always taken notice of me. Even when I was a kid, he never ignored me but always said nice things. I think he fancied me.'

‘You're mad,' said Ben scornfully. ‘Celia was on the scene then.'

‘Well, she's not now!'

‘It doesn't mean she won't turn up again one day.' A scornful laugh escaped him. ‘Now
that
would put your nose out of joint!'

There was a brief silence before Sarah said in a muted voice, ‘Saying that shows how much you care about me. Once you wouldn't have wanted me hurt. Once you were exciting and fun. We'd have a laugh and do mad things. You made a girl feel – feel – oh, you've never even made proper love to me! I'm going home, I've got a headache.'

‘But, Sarah, we did mad things because we were kids! We're in our thirties now. We're not young any more.' There was that note of desperation in Ben's voice again. ‘As for making proper love –'

‘We're not ninety either!' she interrupted. ‘Goodnight, Ben.' There was the sound of a car door slamming and Katie dived back into bed again as the car roared down the Mount. She knew she should not have been listening, but then they should not have been arguing in the street. She expected to hear Ben's footsteps on the stairs but heard nothing, not even his bedroom door opening and closing before she fell asleep again.

Katie was sitting on the area steps eating an ice cream. She wore a green gingham blouse tucked into a pair of blue dungarees, which had been shortened with giant tacking stitches to reveal fluorescent green socks and black ballerina slippers. Her shining reddish-brown hair had lost its green plastic slides so that now it hung like a rippling curtain, almost concealing her face from passers-by. In between bites of her ice cream she sang: ‘Not all the nice girls love a sailor. Not all the nice girls love a tar!'

‘Yes, they do,' boomed a male voice. ‘And where did you get that thing you're wearing? Does Ma know about it?'

Katie sprang to her feet. ‘Mick, Mick, Mick!' She flung herself at him, causing him to drop his kitbag so he could catch her in mid-air. He was tall, dark-haired, bronzed, and despite being quite old in her estimation, still handsome. He also looked gratified by her welcome.

‘Hell, Katie girl, what's Ma been feeding you on? There seems more of you.'

‘I'm older and taller!' she said, sliding between his hands to the ground. ‘And I'm not a kid any more so don't you forget it. I suppose I shouldn't have flung myself at you like that,' she added with a doubtful air.

‘Think nothing of it.' He took up his kitbag again and there was a puzzled expression in his eyes as he gazed down at her. ‘You're right! You're a young lady and I'm trying to think who you remind me of.' He slid an arm around her shoulders and continued to stare at her. Then he smiled. ‘I can hardly believe I'm home for good. No more having my day ruled by eight bells. No more dog watches or middle watches, or me fancying I can see a floating mine. No more flying fish or hot springs!'

‘No more white sands or blue lagoons,' she interrupted in lyrical tones, recalling postcards received.

‘Aye,' he sighed because it had been a grey day in England so far. ‘I'm home safe, just like that Spanish gypsy said I would be, years ago before the war. Now I've got to find meself a wife.'

Katie stared at him, thinking of what Ben had said, and muttered, ‘Not you, too! And what Spanish fortune teller?'

Mick's brown eyes twinkled. ‘I've never told you that tale? The one I met at the Pierhead when I was but a youth. She promised there'd be four women in my life but the one I would marry would choose me. I take that to mean I won't have any say in the matter. When it happens it'll be – POW! Anyway, who else is getting married? Not you, I bet.'

‘Don't be silly! Ma's got my life mapped out for me. I'm to be mistress of all I survey!' she said in mocking tones.

‘Ah, yes, the Arcadia. Us boys really were a disappointment to Ma there. I felt a bit guilty sometimes but your arrival made everything OK. She was in her element then. You were the answer to all her dreams: pink ribbons, pink frilly frocks and pink bonnets! Did anyone ever tell you she put Jack in a pink bonnet once? Pops wasn't pleased about that, I can tell you, but he was more worried about Ma than anything because it was down to her having lost a baby girl that she acted that way.'

‘I never knew she lost a baby girl?' Katie was astonished that Kitty had never told her. ‘How sad.'

‘She probably doesn't like talking about it. Anyway she lavished a lot of love on us lot and the Arcadia.'

They both gazed up at the pink brick building with its tall windows and window-boxes filled with tulips and wallflowers.

‘I remember helping make them boxes,' said Mick. ‘It was round about the time Ma got married, and Celia …' He paused and his dark brows drew together. ‘Lord, where have all the years gone? There's been a war, and people and places seem to have vanished off the face of the earth.'

‘They have,' said Katie, adding, ‘Who's Celia?'

‘No one you know, kid. Let's go in.'

She led the way through the gate in the wrought-iron railings and down the area steps to the family living quarters in the basement, and as she did – wondered what changes Mick's return would bring to their lives.

‘So what are you going to do with yourself now you've finished?' said Pops, glancing up from polishing a boot.

‘Don't be rushing him,' said Kitty, smiling at her eldest son. ‘Give him time to take his bearings. I'm not getting any younger and I'd like him around for a while.'

‘You're looking good,' said Mick in mild tones. ‘Stuck at thirty-nine, like Bebe Daniels.'

‘Don't give me that flannel.
You're
thirty-nine!' Kitty shook her head at him. ‘John and I would like to retire and hand over to Katie as soon as we can, but she'll need someone older around who knows the ropes.'

Mick's eyes went from the girl's face to his mother. ‘I see you're still trying to run our lives for us, Ma. You know I never wanted to be in the hotel business. As soon as I can I'm going to get my own place. I want to live a normal life, not one which has strangers coming and going all the time. Besides, I've another job in mind and I've already applied for it.'

‘I was relying on you,' said his mother, looking hurt.

‘Well, you shouldn't have. Anyway, what about Ben? It looks like he's here for life.'

‘He's thinking of getting married,' said Pops, and winked at Katie.

She frowned. ‘I don't need anyone to look after me. With decent staff, I'll cope. You've taught me so much already and the business is in my blood. It was your mother's before you and it'll be mine after you, so stop worrying about me needing someone to look after me.'

‘OK, OK! Keep your hair on,' said Kitty, half-laughing at the girl's vehemence but wondering how it was that Mick could not look at Katie and see Celia and himself in her. How she loved the child, yet she wished she had some proof of Mick's being her father so she could make him take responsibility for her. Mick and Celia had been childhood sweethearts but had fallen out only to meet up again during the war when he had been on leave. Unfortunately she had never said that Mick was Katie's father but Celia
had
wanted her baby named Katherine and
begged
for Kitty to look after her child before she had disappeared, believing Mick's ship had sunk without a trace in the Atlantic.

Whatever had happened to Celia? With Katie's birthday looming Kitty always got herself into a tizz. She had intended telling Mick the truth in the beginning but what with the disruptions the blitz had caused and them spending a year in the house that had once belonged to John's grandfather in Scotland, somehow he and Jack had remained ignorant. Ben knew because he had been too young to join the forces and had been living at home serving his apprenticeship as a bricklayer by building air raid shelters.

‘Who is it Ben's thinking of marrying?' asked Mick, rousing Kitty from her thoughts.

‘Sarah O'Neill! She's been free the last few years. Remember I wrote and told you her husband was killed in Korea?'

‘Sarah!' Mick could not hide his astonishment and it was several seconds before he added, ‘How would you say she is, Ma?'

‘Still very much the old Sarah.' Kitty's voice was as dry as autumn leaves.

‘“When she's good, she's very, very good, and when she's bad she's horrid,”' said Mick softly.

‘That's from a nursery rhyme,' said Katie, thinking the horrible bit fitted Sarah perfectly.

He nodded. ‘Fancy our Ben and Sarah getting together! I can't believe it.'

Katie thought she knew why he could not believe it but Pops raised his eyebrows and said, ‘Why not? They're the same age and have known each other for years. I'd say he almost understands her.'

‘But can he handle her, Pop?' said Mick earnestly. ‘You know what she was like even as a kid. A real little flirt! I remember …' He stopped and wondered what use it would serve to relate how Ben had asked Sarah to marry him when he was seven years old and how she had turned him down flat, saying she preferred Mick because he was older and probably richer. The memory had made him smile once but not right now. He wondered what game she was playing.

Katie said, ‘You don't fancy her yourself, do you?'

Mick stared at her. ‘I haven't met her in years, Katie girl, so why should you think that?'

She could have told him but at that moment Ben came in. He looked drained and his expression did not lighten when he saw his brother sitting there. ‘So you're home?' he rasped.

‘Looks like it,' said Mick, getting to his feet. ‘What's wrong with your face? You look like you've lost a florin and found a farthin'!'

‘It's more serious than that,' said Ben. ‘But I'm not going to go into it now. I'm tired. I'm going straight to bed.'

‘Aren't you having your dinner?' said Kitty, going over to him. ‘You work too hard, son. What's so serious?'

He flashed her a slight smile and eased his shoulders as if shifting an invisible weight. ‘Nothing for you to worry about, but I'm going to bed because I'm tired. I'll see you in the morning.' He half raised a hand before letting it drop and closing the door behind him.

No one spoke for several minutes, waiting for the sound of his footsteps to die away.

‘That wasn't a very friendly welcome,' murmured Mick. ‘Doesn't my face fit any more? We used to be great mates years ago.'

Kitty exchanged looks with John. ‘What do you think? Have they had a row?'

Katie marvelled that they had not heard the quarrel but guessed they had been at the back of the hotel in the kitchen at the time. For a moment she was tempted to tell them about it but decided it might embarrass Mick, and besides there had been real pain in Ben's eyes and this was surely a private matter. If he wanted things known it was up to him to tell Ma. She was a cow, was Sarah! thought Katie wrathfully.

‘You know how moody Sarah can be sometimes,' said John. ‘They'll sort it out. Probably a storm in a teacup.'

Mick said abruptly, ‘I'm tired myself. I think I'll have an early night.'