A Daughter's Choice (37 page)

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Authors: June Francis

BOOK: A Daughter's Choice
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‘I was fifteen,' murmured Celia. ‘Far too young to be thinking of love.'

‘I was mad about you but you weren't really that mad about me. You were always pushing me away.'

‘I
was
in love with you,' she said indignantly. ‘But a girl has to keep her head. Where would we have been if I'd have started a baby then?'

‘I would have married you.'

She laughed in his face. ‘D'you think they'd have let us! I'd have been sent off to some home for unmarried mothers and they'd have taken the baby away. I'm glad I kept my head!'

‘OK, OK! I would have married you later, though, when we both lost our heads! But you vanished.'

She stared at him. ‘It was you that scarpered after it happened. Why didn't you ask me then instead of running away?'

Mick looked uncomfortable. ‘I was all mixed up and I still feel bad about that. So how about it?'

Celia looked at him stupidly. ‘Pardon?'

He said impatiently, ‘How about it? Me and you getting married now – making Katie legal.'

‘Are you serious?'

‘Of course I'm bloody serious,' he said irascibly. ‘I can offer you a house and I've a good job. Katie could live with us and we'd be a proper family. What d'you think?'

‘I think you must be mad! You can't throw questions at a woman like that and expect an answer right away. I don't even know you any more.'

‘I haven't changed that much.'

‘That's what I'm thinking,' she muttered.

He smiled. ‘I have changed in some ways, Cessy. I'm really not as selfish. I do care about Katie and want her to feel we both want her.' His smile held all its old charm and, oh, for a moment she really was tempted! What he was suggesting had been her dream all those years she had been on her own but …

‘Well?' he said.

‘I'll think about it.'

He stared at her, eyes narrowed, and there was a pause before he said, ‘Right! Do you want to go back now then?'

‘What about Nelson?' She looked down at the dog. ‘The poor little lad has had hardly any exercise. You should at least take him round the block.'

‘You're right!' And with that Mick walked away, leaving her standing outside the house where he had once kissed her so passionately on the front steps.

For a moment Celia was tempted to run after him and say she would marry him, just to see the dismay in his face, but he had done what she supposed he thought was the decent thing by asking her, even if she really did not want to accept.

She set off to walk to Lime Street and catch a bus but had only reached Lycée Street when a hand took her by the shoulder and forced her round. She stared up at Andy Pritchard and her knees went weak, while at the same time her heart did a somersault.

‘Who was that bloke you were with?' he snarled. ‘Yer bloody husband!'

She yelped as he squeezed her shoulder. ‘I – I haven't got a husband.'

‘Liar! What was all that in the church when we were supposed to get wed, then? Practising to go on the stage, were yer?' He thrust his ruddy face into hers.

She coughed. ‘You're drunk! Let me go!'

‘Like hell I will!' He shook her and she cried out.

A couple stopped and stared in their direction.

‘Let me go, you brute!'

‘Shut up!' yelled Andy, and slapped her across the face.

Celia saw red and hit out with her handbag.

‘Hey!' shouted a man's voice. ‘Leave that woman alone.'

‘Yeah! You leave her alone, yer big bully!' said his companion.

Another couple and a man had stopped. Andy looked at them, and thrusting Celia against a shop window, hissed, ‘You haven't heard the last of me.' Then he lumbered off in the direction of Renshaw Street.

‘You all right, luv?' asked one of the women, peering into Celia's face.

‘I'll live,' she said shakily, touching the cheekbone where the blow had landed.

‘Far to go?'

‘Everton. I'll be OK on the bus, thanks!'

‘If you're sure?' said the woman, looking at her curiously.

She nodded, thanked her again and changed her mind about the bus she would normally take and went home by a different route.

Still shaken by the encounter, it was with dismay that she saw Andy standing outside the Windermere Hotel when she got off the bus. She stopped in her tracks and realised he must have drink on him because he was in a worse state than he had been earlier, swaying as he leant against the wall. She wondered how he had managed to trace her when she had given him a false address, but that was irrelevant at the moment.

She told herself she was stupid to be frightened in broad daylight. Someone would come along just as they had earlier. She just had to stand up to him and show him he couldn't frighten her. She eased back her shoulders, one of which was giving her pain where he had gripped it, and walked in the gutter towards the pet shop, keeping her distance from him.

He came across the pavement at a run and lunged at her. ‘I've been waiting for you! You bloody humiliated me in that church!' he yelled, grabbing hold of her.

‘You're hurting me, Andy,' she gasped. ‘Let go of my arm or I'll call the police.'

‘Don't care! You should be punished! You and that bitch of a daughter.' He swung her round by her arm and then released her. She went flying and would have landed on the road if someone had not caught her.

It was Frank Jones and she clung to his overcoat while her head swam.

‘You all right, girl?' He steadied her with both hands.

She nodded mutely and he turned to Donny and said, ‘You look after Mrs Mcdonald.'

‘Right, Granddad!' Donny thrust his hand into Celia's and held it tightly as Frank faced Andy.

‘I think, like, yer're bothering this lady,' he said. ‘I don't want to cause a disturbance, like, but I think yer should gerrout of here.'

‘Eff off!' snarled Andy, looking down at the little man and doubling his fists.

Frank shook his head. ‘That's not nice language in front of a lady.' He half-turned and then he spun round fast and caught Andy with a beautiful left hook to the chin and then a right one on the side of his face. Then another on the chin. The ex-sergeant-major crumbled at the knees and slid slowly to the ground.

Frank turned to Celia who stared at him with admiration and surprise on her face. ‘I was going to marry him,' she said in wonder.

‘Oh, heck! I'm sorry, luv. I didn't –'

‘No! I'd already changed my mind, that's why he got rough. I must have been desperate, that's all I can think.'

‘You desperate! A luvly woman like you?' said Frank, his voice as gentle as a caress.

Celia saw the glow in his eyes and her heart lifted. ‘You say the nicest things, Frank.'

‘It's true,' he said simply. ‘Now would yer like me to see yer home?'

‘Yes, please.' She tucked her free hand under his arm and together she, Frank and Donny stepped over Andy and made for home.

Chapter Twenty

The FOR SALE sign had finally gone up outside the Arcadia and Katherine was feeling down in the dumps. Not only had she not heard from Patrick, she had had no word from Celia about how she had got on with Mick.

Ma had taken to using a walking stick and was constantly saying how she hoped Katherine would come up to Scotland with them; after all, she already had friends up there from holidaying at the house. She mentioned one particular boy called Alastair who was the local doctor's son. As if that was not enough to persuade Katherine up North, she added that Wendy was thinking of spending the holidays with her grandparents to help them out and would be good company. Katherine did not mind the girl but much preferred male company, namely Patrick's. Katherine decided she had to see him as well as Celia before Ma wore her down.

She went to the photographer's first, only to be told, ‘You've missed him, dear. Although I haven't seen much of him lately. He was talking of finding a flat where he could have his own dark room. You had a lovers' tiff?'

‘Of course not!' she said stiffly, and walked out feeling hurt that Patrick had not mentioned anything about a flat to her. She met with as little success at the pet shop in her search for her mother.

‘She's gone to the pictures with Mr Jones and Donny,' said Mrs Evans. ‘How are you, girl? You're not looking your normal cheerful self. Things not working out?'

‘They're OK.' She forced a smile. ‘It's just that I haven't seen much of Patrick. I've been told he's getting himself a flat but I've no idea where.'

Mrs Evans clucked her tongue against her teeth. ‘You young people! Careless, that's what I call it. But cheer up! He did call here the other day and was talking to your mother. Perhaps she knows his address?'

Katherine's spirits lifted. ‘I'll come tomorrow. No! Ask her to come and see me instead. Mick's coming too.'

But the next day Katherine returned from shopping to be told Celia had rung to say she could not make it that evening, but if Katherine would like to meet her outside Cooper's on Friday, she would treat her to lunch.

It was obvious as soon as she saw Celia that she was in a bit of a stew. Katherine seized her arm and whisked her inside the store. ‘I'm being followed,' said her mother, linking arms with her and hurrying her upstairs.

‘By who?'

‘Andy Pritchard. He's proving a bit of a nuisance. He's out for revenge!'

‘You're joking?' Katherine stopped in her tracks but Celia hurried her on.

‘Believe me, this is no joke.'

They had reached the restaurant and managed to get a table by a window. Celia's eyes searched the street below and, leaning across the table, she grabbed Katherine's arm and hissed, ‘See down there? The man in the raincoat and trilby with the orange scarf? That's him! If it weren't for Frank, I'd be a nervous wreck by now.'

‘Frank?'

Celia resumed her seat and flushed as she toyed with a fork on the table. ‘Frank Jones – Donny's grandfather. He's been awful good to me.'

A pucker appeared between Katherine's eyebrows. ‘What happened with you and Mick? I thought you were making friends?'

‘We have! And he did suggest we get married, for your sake, but … it wouldn't work, luv,' she said earnestly. ‘We're not what each other needs. He wants someone stronger than me to stand up to him otherwise he can get a bit above himself. I know he can be kind and a real charmer when he wants but he's not for me.'

Katherine swallowed her disappointment. ‘Well, if you feel like that, there's nothing I can say.'

‘No, there isn't, luv, because I'm going to marry Frank and we're going to tie the knot soon. He'll keep me safe from Andy.'

‘But he's only little and he's
old
! Could he defend you?'

‘He already has,' said Celia proudly. ‘He used to be a flyweight boxing champion when he was young! I know he's a bit older than me but he loves me and he'll do anything for me. It sounds kind of sudden but he has shown an interest before and he's got a nice little house that'll suit me down to the ground – and it's handy for the pet shop. I don't know how Mrs Evans'll manage without us living there but I'll do me best to help her, and Frank says I don't have to give up me work altogether. He wants me just to cut me hours so I can be there for Donny and him when they come in.'

She looked so happy that Katherine could not help being happy for her. ‘It sounds perfect,' she said sincerely.

‘Doesn't it just?' Her mother's eyes shone.

A waitress came to the table. ‘Are you ready to order, madam?'

‘Give us a few minutes more, luv,' said Celia, waving her away.

Katherine stared at her, remembering the first time they had had lunch here, and thought how much her mother had changed. And that's down to me! she realised. In so many ways her leaving the Arcadia had been a good thing. She had matured as Celia had said on Mothering Sunday and whatever happened in the future with Patrick, she would be always glad she had done what she had and gone with her mother. So many people had come together because of it: Jack and Vicky, Ben and Sarah, Celia and Frank. Suddenly she realised that although strictly speaking she no longer had four brothers, she would be taking on board a stepbrother in young Donny and could not be happier about that because she was fond of the boy.

‘When's the wedding to be?'

‘Next month. We don't see any point in hanging around but it's going to be a proper wedding with banns read at St John's and invitations sent out. I haven't many friends but the ones I've got, I'd like to be there.' Celia's grey eyes were suddenly anxious. ‘Do you think Pops would give me away? He is my godfather.'

‘I'm sure he would.'

Celia smiled. ‘And you'll be my bridesmaid?'

‘Why not! Although – are you sure you wouldn't like Rita? If it hadn't been for her, you might have ended up with Mr Pritchard.'

‘Don't!' Celia gave a tiny shiver and glanced towards the window. ‘It's getting that I feel I'm being watched all the time.'

‘OK. But what about Rita? She's more your age.'

Celia hesitated then shook her head. ‘I'll send her an invite but I want you. If it wasn't for you, I'd never have met Frank. You'll have to come round the shops with me one Saturday and we can pick frocks.'

‘OK, if that's what you want.'

‘I'll go to the Arcadia with you after we've eaten, but will you tell Mick I've decided not to marry him? I know you might have liked the idea, luv, but I don't think he's going to be that disappointed.'

Katherine nodded, wishing she could find someone for him. At the moment it was looking like that old Spanish gypsy had got it all wrong.

It was when their soup was set in front of them that she asked Celia about Patrick and whether he had told her he had found himself a flat. Her mother gave her a wide-eyed look. ‘Me, luv! Why on earth would he do that? Why do you ask? Hasn't he been in touch?'

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