A Daughter's Choice (25 page)

‘They all say that, the ones who haven't been asked.'

She was indignant. ‘I'll have you know I've had two proposals! One from a guest and one from a policeman during the war. He – he'd helped dig out my mother's and gran's bodies when our house received a direct hit.'

‘Sorry.' He turned and looked at her. ‘How about having dinner with me?'

‘No, thanks. I've eaten. Now, if you would please go away, I've nothing else I want to say to you.'

He sighed. ‘OK, if that's the way you want it. But if Celia gets in touch, will you give us a ring? She could send you a card at Christmas and Katie just might still be with her. Ma's talking of putting the Arcadia up for sale – which, little as I like the place, is a sign that she's giving up hope of Katie returning and I don't like that. I'm moving out myself. Buying a house in Waterloo near the front. See you sometime.' He walked away.

Rita stared after him. There was a hollow feeling inside her. She decided if he was buying a house it was probably for him to live in with Celia and Katie one day. She was right keeping him at a distance, but was he right in thinking Celia would get in touch at Christmas? And if she did, what was Rita to do about it when she was inexplicably attracted to Mick? At the moment she had no answer.

Katherine closed a cage door and walked over to the tinsel-decorated window as she heard a taxi draw up outside. It was Celia bringing Mrs Evans back from Southport after spending a couple of days over Christmas with her granddaughter. Her mother had found herself an early-morning cleaning job which left her free for such excursions, despite Katherine's protesting at her taking on such a strenuous job at her age. Celia had become quite uppity at that and said she wasn't in her dotage and better she did it than Katherine. She wanted her daughter further up in the world than working in a pub or cleaning.

Katherine had responded, ‘You call working in a pet shop up in the world?'

‘Yes!' Celia had said firmly. ‘You think, girl. At least Mrs Evans gives you a certain amount of leeway here to do things your way and you're getting to know how to run a business.'

Katherine had accepted there was some truth in that but it had only served to remind her what she had given up in leaving the Arcadia. She often thought of the family and had sent them a Christmas card, saying she hoped to visit them on New Year's Day. She had finally come to terms with Sarah and Ben's being back together. After all, she told herself, she could not expect him to worry about her feelings when she had not considered his and left without even thanking him for all he had done in accepting her as part of the family. Now he had his life to live and she had hers, and there were certain compensations in that. She was free to come and go as she pleased and already shouldering responsibility in a way that she might not have if she had stayed at the Arcadia. There was also Patrick to think about but she did not intend thinking too much about him. That only led to worry about Ma's disapproving of him and what that might mean if she returned to the Arcadia …

She went outside to welcome them. ‘Had a good time?'

‘Lovely!' said Mrs Evans, accepting her assistance getting out of the taxi. ‘I'm whacked but it was worth it. I'm going back there for the New Year. That great-grandson of mine is a real cheeky monkey!'

‘Great!' said Katherine, glancing at Celia. ‘Did you enjoy your day out?'

‘It was very nice,' she said, taking the old woman's other arm. ‘I really enjoyed looking at the shops along Lord Street. Mrs Walsh came with us and we went in Matti and Tissot's. I'd always wanted to go in there but I didn't like to on my own. We had coffee and these gorgeous Charlottes Russes.'

‘There were chocolates made on the premises, too,' said Mrs Evans, smacking her lips. ‘Expensive! But Celia treated us both to a quarter after she met a man she knew there.'

‘I didn't know him the way you make it sound,' she said, going red. ‘He was just someone who used to stay at the Seaview, and who's staying there now because he missed out on his week in the summer when his sister was ill. He couldn't even remember my name!'

Mrs Evans snorted as Katherine helped her into her chair. ‘He kept you talking long enough!'

Celia went even rosier. ‘He's a very talkative man and we have a common interest.'

‘So are you seeing him again?' said Katherine, intrigued.

‘Of course not! He's a different class from me. He was a sergeant-major in India.'

Katherine winked at Mrs Evans. ‘One of the big guns, hey? Kept the Empire going till it started to collapse.'

‘That's not funny,' said Celia, colour still high. ‘He's not a bit snobby.'

‘What's he got to be snobby about?' said Katherine, raising her eyebrows. ‘Just because he's staying at the Seaview and was a sergeant-major doesn't make him any better than you. What does he do now? I bet he has to work for a living?'

‘I didn't ask him,' said Celia, and smiled unexpectedly. ‘But you're right. I mean, it says in the papers that the class barriers have come down since the war.'

‘Hmmmph!' said Mrs Evans. ‘You tell that to some of the nobs. They still think they're running this country! Money talks.'

‘You think so? I thought they were all poorer because of taxes?' said Katherine.

‘There's them that blankety-blank are and them that aren't,' grunted Mrs Evans. ‘Mind you, there's also the nouveau riche who don't have breeding, as they call it, but have made their own money, and lots of it!'

‘It would be nice being rich,' mused Katherine.

‘Aye,' said Mrs Evans. ‘But it doesn't buy you good health. Now how about a cup of tea, girl?'

‘Okeydokey,' said Katherine and went to put the kettle on. When she returned she said, ‘So when will you be going to your granddaughter's again?'

‘New Year's Eve. Your mother'll take me there so don't think you're having the morning off. She's going to some dance or other in Southport. Who's playing, Celia?'

‘Tommy Speakman and his orchestra,' she said. ‘It's at the Floral Hall!' She tried not to sound excited but the sergeant-major had said he would be there and would look out for her.

‘Are you going with your friend from dancing class?' said Katherine curiously, sensing her mother was keeping something back. ‘And will you be coming home?' They had discovered about the dancing classes the other week.

‘Of course!' she snorted. ‘You don't think I'd be leaving you here on your own!'

‘I won't be lonely,' said Katherine with a twinkle. ‘I'm getting to like my own company. And besides, Patrick said he'll come round about ten and we'll go out. He's nice and dark and knows what to bring to first foot properly.'

Celia shot her a look. ‘You'll keep him in his place, make sure he doesn't misbehave?'

Katherine's eyes opened wide. ‘Whatever do you mean, Mama! I know he doesn't look it, but Patrick's the perfect gentleman.'

‘Maybe,' said Celia dryly. ‘But it's New Year's Eve we're talking about, and if he gets a few drinks down him he mightn't stay such a gentleman.'

‘I'll keep him in his place, don't you worry. So you just go out and enjoy yourself and forget about me.'

Celia had every intention of doing that but did not say so. Instead she thought of the dress she had bought and how, hopefully, it would make the sergeant-major's eyes pop out!

The wind whipped a long strand of hair across Katherine's face as she stood outside the shop. It was Wednesday and New Year's Eve and there had been few customers, probably because the weather was threatening to get worse. She just hoped the rain would hold off. December had been a terrible month with planes grounded at Speke airport and a tanker stuck in mud at Bromborough dock. She hoped the weather would not spoil Celia's evening because she had taken to Southport with her a lovely dress, all sequins and shiny satin. She said she had bought it secondhand but it had looked pretty new to Katherine. Still, it was none of her business what her mother did with her money, as long as she continued to pay her way. A gust of wind caught the door and hastily Katherine seized it before it could slam.

The wireless was belting out Connie Francis singing ‘Stupid Cupid!' when Katherine opened the door to Patrick. ‘So you made it then?'

He felt his own arms and chest. ‘Yes! It's me. I'm here!'

She chuckled, and seizing an arm, pulled him inside. ‘You don't have to act dafter than you are. D'you want a cup of tea before we go for that walk?'

‘Is that all that's on offer?' His arm slid round her waist and he whirled her round the small space at the bottom of the stairs and with his mouth against her ear, crooned along with Connie Francis about being in love.

‘Shhh! Don't be silly. You've been drinking.'

‘It's New Year's Eve! What do you expect? But I swear I've only had twenty pints.' He kissed her enthusiastically until she scarcely had any breath. He had never kissed her in such a way before and she wished he wouldn't now because it made her feel even more muddled up about returning to the Arcadia.

‘Twenty pints!' she gasped. ‘Who are you kidding?'

‘Twenty-two then. Or perhaps it was the three helpings of Desperate Dan's cow pie that made me feel great!' He began to croon about how easy it was to fall in love as the Crickets took over from Connie Francis. He held Katherine tightly and kissed her ear, her cheek, her chin.

‘Patrick! Behave yourself,' she said, managing to get her hands against his chest.

‘Why? Don't you like it? All you've got to do is let yourself go!'

She pushed him away. ‘I can't,' she said. ‘Not until I know where I am with Ma!'

‘Ma?' He looked at her in surprise. ‘You mean Celia? What's she been saying about me?' He took Katherine's hands and placed them round his waist, holding them there with his own and swaying from side to side, singing, ‘“Tea for two, cha, cha, cha!”'

She danced with him cheek to cheek, ignoring that remark but wondering where tonight was going to end. ‘How much have you really had to drink?' she murmured.

‘None of your business if you don't want to love me.'

She thought of Ma and of the Arcadia and of the future there for which she still longed. ‘What are you doing talking about love?' she managed to say in a light voice. ‘We hardly know each other. And besides, we're too young to get serious.'

He released her abruptly so that she fell on to the stairs and his expression was suddenly sombre. ‘I'll wait down here while you get your coat. Don't be all night.'

‘What did you do that for? It hurt!'

‘Sorry! But I'm not a saint, kid. Go and get your coat if we're going out.'

She went, feeling awful for rejecting him when all the time she needed him and didn't want to lose his friendship. Her fingers shook as she applied fresh lipstick.

‘Hurry up!' he yelled.

‘Coming!' She felt relieved he had not left while she was upstairs. She glanced at herself in the mirror one last time, thinking she looked pretty good, then dashed downstairs.

Patrick already had the door open. ‘Got your key?'

She nodded and fell into step beside him. She would have liked to have slipped her hand into the crook of his arm but thought he might misconstrue her action. He looked distant and she waited for him to crack a joke or speak but he did not and the longer the silence lasted, the more difficult it became for her to say anything. This is stupid! she thought but still they walked on in a silence that was starting to feel as heavy and thick as fog.

Eventually, after she felt they had walked a couple of miles and the pubs had let out, she managed to say, ‘We thought this was going to be fun. You've brought your camera because you said you hoped we'd see something worth taking that you could sell to the newspapers. But it's not fun when we're not speaking to each other
and
you haven't even taken one shot.'

‘It's not fun because we're at that point where I can't pretend this is a passing romance,' said Patrick in a tight voice. ‘Walking in the wind and the rain's fun for lovers! But we're not lovers, are we, Katie? So rain's just rain and we get miserably wet.'

‘I'm not miserable,' she said with a sinking heart. ‘And besides, it's not raining.'

‘It feels like it's raining to me,' he murmured. ‘And
I
am miserable. Bloody, bloody miserable!'

‘Oh, Patrick! Don't swear and sound like that!' He was wringing her heart and she wanted to hug and comfort him, but she didn't because she knew there would be no going back then, and besides she didn't know if it was real love she felt for him. ‘I'm very fond of you.' He made no answer, only stared at her. She felt her cheeks burning and her heart began to thud.

‘So you've said,' he murmured. ‘I think I'll go home.'

‘Home!' She couldn't believe it. ‘Home!' she repeated, losing her temper. ‘You
can't
go home! You were first footing for us! You've got the coal, salt, everything! And you're a man and I'm a woman and it has to be a man if we're to have a healthy, happy New Year! So don't be blinking selfish!'

‘OK, OK! Keep your hair on!' He glanced at his watch. ‘If we go past Barker's and along Belmont Road we should time it just right to arrive at the pet shop for midnight. I'll let the New Year in and then I'll go home.'

‘Fine!' she said brightly. ‘We'll do just that.' They walked on, not speaking.

There were people milling around at the junction between Oakfield Road and Belmont Road. The two of them attempted to skirt round the crowd but instead became caught up in it. Someone came between them and linked arms and others joined the chain. People began to sing and dance the ‘Hokey Cokey' and ‘Knees Up, Mother Brown'. Bells rang and ships' horns began to blow. A roar went up and people cheered and began to sing ‘Auld Lang Syne'. Then on every side people were kissing complete strangers and wishing them a Happy New Year. A dark man with a moustache kissed Katherine and so did a woman and then someone else. She wiped away their kisses and looked for Patrick but there was no sign of him and suddenly she felt bereft. Then another person was shaking hands and greeting her. It seemed to go on forever as she forced her way through the crowd, trying to find Patrick. Several men made a grab for her, seizing her by her coat or a sleeve. Somehow she managed to tug herself free and find her way on to the pavement.