A Daughter's Choice (30 page)

But the woman smiled. ‘Used to come in the shop years ago as a nipper, I suppose? Left the area but still come here for your children's toys?'

Celia did not know how to answer that without having to think up another reason for her being there so just smiled as if in agreement.

‘You've probably been in my shop,' said Dolly. ‘All the kids came in my shop for a penny bag of mixtures before the war. My mam was in charge then.' She looked up at Celia. ‘What were your favourites?'

‘My f-favourites?' she stammered.

‘Your favourite sweets?' Dolly's tone was encouraging.

Celia said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Cherry lips! And those violet-flavoured ones that made your breath smell nice.'

‘Nice to be kissed,' said Dolly, and winked.

Andy approached with two glasses in his hands. ‘I see you're keeping Miss Mcdonald company, Dolly?'

‘Miss?' Dolly chortled. ‘And there was me giving her a husband and a handful of kids. I thought she was one of those mothers that comes back.'

Celia smiled but let him carry on speaking. ‘Ethel and I met Miss Mcdonald in Southport. She, like us, had been going there for years, staying at the same hotel,' he explained.

Dolly's bright eyes went from one to the other of them. ‘How nice for you both,' she said, in a way that made Celia feel hot all of a sudden.

‘Yes, isn't it?' said Andy, smiling. He touched Celia's hand. ‘You'll have to excuse me a moment. There are people I have to speak to. I'll be back as soon as I can.'

‘Perhaps I shouldn't have come? I don't want to be in the way,' she said hurriedly.

‘Don't you dare disappear!' He looked alarmed. ‘You stay right there and don't let Dolly play twenty questions with you.' He moved away.

Celia looked at Dolly apprehensively and took a large sip of sherry to brace herself.

‘So will we be seeing more of you round here, Miss Mcdonald?' she asked.

‘Maybe!' Celia's tone was bright and there was a flush on her cheeks as she took another sip of her sherry. ‘Tell me, Dolly – I hope you don't mind me calling you Dolly? – is it any business of yours?'

Dolly's mouth closed like a clam and Celia drained the sherry glass and moved away, feeling slightly ashamed of herself for being so rude. She did not know quite what to do with herself and wandered over to the window where she tried to peep out but the nets deterred her from doing so. She was just starting to think about leaving when Andy came up to her.

‘I'm sorry I haven't been able to spend more time with you but I'm sure you know how it is.' He took hold of both her hands and inclined his handsome head towards her. ‘I'm going to be tied up for the next few days. Paperwork, you know, and getting rid of things. Ethel was a hoarder. I'm not looking forward to it at all.' He sighed as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

‘Perhaps I could help there?' she suggested eagerly.

His face brightened. ‘You are an angel! Perhaps you could come on Wednesday afternoon? The shop'll be closed then.'

Celia hesitated because she had promised to take Mrs Evans to Southport that afternoon. Then she decided he needed her more, and after all she could always fall back on Katherine to look after the old woman.

‘Me?' said Katherine the following Tuesday when they were feeding the pets and Celia mentioned the matter. ‘I can't! I'm going out with Patrick. I let him down last week because you went to that funeral. I can't do it again.'

‘But this is important,' said Celia crossly. ‘It's not often I go out and I can only meet this – this other old friend I met at the funeral tomorrow afternoon because it's hi— her day off.'

‘Well, you'll have to get in touch with them and cancel.' Katherine folded her arms, her expression decisive.

‘I can't do that!' cried Celia.

‘If you can't, then tell Mrs Evans you can't take her to the pantomime in Southport. And by the way, Mr Jones called and said if you wanted to quit your cleaning job, he could put a word in for you at Bibby's. We had a nice little chat.' Her eyes gleamed. ‘You didn't tell me you've been to his house? Donny was full of it! They were both really interested when I told them we'd worked in hotels.'

‘You didn't tell him the truth about the family at the Arcadia?' said Celia, alarmed.

‘Why not?' said Katherine defiantly. ‘He was very sympathetic and understands why I can't produce a reference. People always think if you can't produce one it could be because you're a thief. Well, I'm not dishonest and I wanted him to know that. He's a nice man and I trust him.'

Celia had paled, remembering what she had said to them about her supposed husband's death. ‘You really told him everything? Good God! You'll be telling Mrs Evans next and then we'll never hear the end of it. I feel so ashamed. What must he think of me?'

Katherine shrugged. ‘He said these things happen in war and I bet Mrs Evans would say the same. She's not all that strait-laced. She has a sense of humour and is more tolerant than you think.'

Celia shook her head and gnawed on her lip, wiping a rabbit's head absently with a cloth. ‘It's easy for you to say that but there's lots of people who would think I was dirty and spoilt goods.' She began to tremble. ‘You've no idea how it felt when I first started showing and had to try and disguise it.' Her hands shook.

Katherine took the cloth from her and put it on the counter. ‘I understand,' she said quietly.

‘I'd never done it before,' said Celia, flushing. ‘We just got carried away. It's easier than you think, so you be careful with that Patrick. Have you told him?'

‘Not yet. Although he knows I used to live at the Arcadia. But I will tell him.'

Celia closed her eyes tightly before opening them again and blinking. ‘Do you have to be so honest with everyone?'

‘I do with Patrick,' said Katherine firmly. ‘But it's getting to be alone with him that's the problem.'

Celia sighed. ‘You're too trusting. Just like me.'

Katherine said nothing. She could not see that she was like her mother in any shape or form. Perhaps Celia's trouble came from never having trusted the family at the Arcadia with the name of the real father. She knew they would still have helped her. It was in their nature to care for people. There was an ache inside her still when she thought of them. She wanted to see them again but in the meantime there was Celia's problem.

‘What are you going to do about seeing your friend?'

Her mother's expression hardened. ‘You don't have to worry about me! I'll sort it out. You just get on with your own life and leave me to get on with mine.'

‘OK,' said Katherine, shrugging. ‘If that's the way you want it.' She reached for some millet sprays and got on with tending the budgies.

‘There's that woman!' hissed Dolly. ‘That colour's not real.'

‘What colour? What woman?' said Vicky, coaxing a curl into place so that it nestled against her cheek. She had finished the night shift and was meeting Jack in town. They were going for a drink at the Grapes and then on to the Cavern.

‘That Miss Mcdonald! The one I told you about who came to the funeral.'

Vicky put down the comb and went over to the window.

‘You won't see her now, he's let her in. Nice goings on, I must say!' Dolly wobbled her chin, wishing her bottom teeth would stay put. ‘Who's to know what they'll get up to inside there?' she mumbled, and pressed her teeth back into place, allowing the net curtain to drop before sitting in her armchair and picking up her by now luke-warm cup of tea.

‘You shouldn't be so nosy.'

‘He said he met her in a hotel in Southport. I'd like to know what kind of hotel that was! You hear about these places,' said Dolly with relish.

‘What places?' said Vicky, trying to keep her cool, remembering how Jack had explained his reasons for being in this part of Liverpool. He had asked her to keep her eyes and ears open for just such a woman.

‘Never you mind,' said Dolly, who strangely enough had always tried to keep her only daughter ignorant of certain ways of the world, despite knowing she was bound to learn a thing or two nursing. ‘Where are you going, miss?'

‘I told you.' Vicky glanced in her direction and smiled. ‘And you're not to start asking questions as soon as I get home. I'll bring him in when I'm ready.'

‘If I'd dared to speak to my mother like that, I'd have got the strap! You haven't even told me his name!' Dolly's tone was scandalised.

Vicky shrugged on a green coat with black piping round the collar and hem. ‘It's a plain honest to goodness name: Jack. I like it.'

‘Jack and the bean stalk and Jack and Jill went up the hill,' mumbled Dolly, peering out of the window again. ‘It's a nursery rhyme name. She's still in there! Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick!'

‘Your memory, Mother. And give them a chance. She's only had time to take off her coat.' She picked up a black patent leather handbag and pulled on a pair of gloves. ‘I'm going. I've got my key, don't wait up.'

‘I won't,' said Dolly. But they both knew she would.

Celia gazed round the bedroom with its floral wallpaper and wished she had kept her coat on. It was cold in here, unlike the living room where Andy was doing some paperwork. It was her own fault for landing herself with the task in hand. First she had apologised about tomorrow and then she had volunteered to clear his sister's room for him this evening. He had instantly taken her up on her offer and she could see why. The place was a mess, as if someone had been searching for something. He had suggested that when they had both finished, they could go out for a drink.

She squared her shoulders and opened the wardrobe door and was immediately assailed by a strong smell of mothballs. She coughed as the smell caught her by the throat but set to work emptying everything out. As she did so she dreamt of the moment when Andy would ask her to be his wife. Then she would do over this flat, which was larger than the rooms over the pet shop and had an upstairs lavatory. They would run the toyshop together! She was already looking forward to meeting mums and children and being accepted as the owner's wife. The only trouble was Katherine. It was Celia's dream of being Andy's wife which had caused her to keep silent about her daughter. There could be no pretending to be a widow in this case because she was pretty certain that widows who remarried had to produce some sort of evidence to prove their previous husband dead. That was really thinking ahead, she thought proudly – but Kitty could have told her that even the best laid plans can go awry.

When Celia had boxed and bagged all Ethel's clothes, Andy took her to the Cygnet pub and soon they were settled in a corner of the lounge with drinks in front of them. ‘I'm thinking of getting rid of the toys,' he said without preamble.

Celia stared at him in dismay. ‘Why? It's a lovely shop! A real Aladdin's cave of wonderful things for children.'

‘I don't like children. Never have.'

That was a disappointment. Celia would have liked one more go at having another child before it was too late. Still, a woman her age couldn't have everything.

He sipped his whisky. ‘I'm going to turn it into a bicycle shop. That's more your man's kind of thing. There used to be a good one round here. The bloke had a penny farthing on display. I've never forgotten that.'

‘But can you change what you're selling?' asked Celia, forcing a laugh.

‘What?'

‘Turn it into a different kind of shop. Isn't there something in the deeds that says you can only sell certain kinds of things?'

He stared at her blankly and for the first time she noticed how protuberant his eyes were. ‘What do you know about deeds? Women shouldn't be filling their heads worrying about such things.'

She hesitated. ‘I know the owner of a pet shop and she told me in her deeds it states it can't be turned into a fishmonger's nor can there be any tallow or glue making on the premises.'

He smirked. ‘How many people would know such things? I reckon I can get away with it. What the eye doesn't see …'

‘You should check,' said Celia quickly. ‘There's bound to be someone at the Town Hall or somewhere who knows. Haven't you ever seen the deeds?'

‘I've looked for them,' he said in a disgruntled voice. ‘Not a sign. You didn't find them when you were going through Ethel's stuff?'

‘Surely she'd keep them in a safe place? Have you asked at her bank or does she have a strong box anywhere?'

‘I can't think of everything! I am a man suffering a grievous loss.'

‘Of course you are,' she said warmly, and touched his knee. He covered her hand with his and pressed it down on his thigh. She felt the colour rise to her cheeks and glanced round, hoping no one could see. She managed to tug her hand free and, not wanting him to think she was a prude, changed the subject swiftly, asking how it came about the shop had not been left to him.

‘I was in India, up to my neck in mud and bullets. You've no idea how handy a Gurkha can be with a knife in a fight,' he said with relish. ‘I've seen Everest, you know.'

‘How exciting,' said Celia, who was really more interested in the shop. ‘You must tell me all about it.'

His eyes shone. ‘I'll get myself another whisky and then you can pin your ears back and hear just what kind of man you're sitting opposite.'

It was later than Celia intended when she let herself out of the shop after leaving Andy, having imbibed several more whiskies than he should have, snoozing in a chair. She had had to be firm with him when he made a rather coarse remark and attempted something she was definitely not ready for, but she had done it with a dignity befitting the kind of woman she was supposed to be. She hurried in the direction of Green Lane, having barely noticed the couple canoodling in the doorway of Dolly's shop, her mind definitely not on love but on finding those deeds when she returned later in the week.