Dreaming Out Loud (14 page)

‘Righto. But I’ll have to find a vase big enough for this extravagant bouquet.’ She smiled at him, ‘I think I know where I can find one.’

Kay left Tom filling the kettle and went to the dining room, where she was sure she had seen a large vase on a shelf in an alcove at one side of the fireplace. She was right. The pale green three-sided vase was definitely tall enough. She was just about to reach for it when she spotted a square scrap of paper on the floor. She picked it up and turned it over to find it was an old photograph. It must have fallen down when she first emptied the box.

It was a photograph of her father standing outside the theatre. From the angle of his head, he looked as though he was talking to whoever was taking the snapshot, but Kay couldn’t read his expression. Either the photograph had faded more than the others or the light had been dim. Perhaps it had been a rainy day.

‘Tea’s up!’ she heard Tom call, so she dropped the photograph in the box, reached for the vase and hurried back to the kitchen.

Northridge Bay, 1926

Jack Lockwood stood in the entrance of the Pavilion Theatre and stared out at the rain-lashed lower promenade. The rain was bad enough, but it was high tide and a fierce wind sent the incoming waves crashing over the balustrade to soak anyone foolhardy enough to make their way to the matinée.

His troupe – the boys, the girls and the musicians – were hurrying past him to enter the theatre and dry off in the dressing rooms before getting ready for the show, but so far not a single customer had turned up, and Jack didn’t blame them. He had almost decided to use the time to rehearse some new sketches and he was walking towards the entrance when a voice shouted, ‘Smile please, Mr Lockwood!’

He turned round and saw Violet aiming her camera at him. He shook his head. ‘It will be a waste of a shot. There’s not enough light.’

‘Go on, say “cheese”,’ she pleaded.

‘All right. But why?’

‘It’s for Lana. You know she thinks someone will write her life story some day? Well, she wants me to take a picture of anything that looks interesting. And here you are, standing outside the theatre.’

Jack laughed. ‘Go on then.’

Violet took her shot and Jack wondered whether Lana would offer to pay for the film or the developing. Probably not, he decided.

As the afternoon went on, the wind dropped a little, the swell of the sea became less turbulent and the rain eased off sufficiently to allow the more hardy holidaymakers to venture out.

It wasn’t long before a gaggle of families could be seen descending the steps from the upper promenade and begin to squelch their way towards the theatre. Jack groaned and almost wished that he’d had to call the afternoon show off. The audience would be damp and restless, especially the children. He would have to instruct the cast to keep the pace brisk and the musicians to up the tempo. Also it might be a good idea to reward the audience with free hot drinks during the first interval – no – that would send the children scurrying to the toilets – the second interval would be better. Cheered a little since the decision had been made, he turned to Mrs Benson sitting in the ticket booth and gave the thumbs-up.

Then Jack remembered why he loved this life and how he wouldn’t want to live any other way. Especially not to become a hotel manager, as Thelma wanted him to be. Thelma knew only too well that Jack had reached his zenith as the actor-manager of a series of seaside entertainments, and no doubt she wanted to make sure that they had a less precarious future to look forward to.

It was Thelma’s dream to own her own house rather than rent one. Perhaps they could buy an established guest house and in time expand. He was sure that Thelma could run a hotel with her eyes closed, but it would be better to have a man nominally in charge. Jack would not be able to bear that, and he wished with all his heart that he and Thelma could have managed to conceive a child. Thelma would make a good mother, he was sure of that, and with the rearing of a child to occupy her she might let go of the idea of owning a hotel.

However, now the sun was shining and the orchestra had started to play a medley of popular tunes. Much cheered, Jack decided to give the children in the audience an extra treat. They could make a queue and go up on to the stage at one side where Eve, a motherly-looking girl, would give out the twists of paper containing sweets. And then the children could walk across the stage – always a thrill – and descend the other side.

Totally exhilarated, Jack hurried through the auditorium, smiling and welcoming those who were already taking their places. And then he remembered that he had another problem.

The taxi had barely driven off when a dark figure stepped out of the shadows and seized Lana by the shoulders.

‘Where the hell have you been?’

She yelped with fright. ‘Jack! How could you? I could have had a heart attack.’

‘Hush, keep your voice down. You’ll wake the neighbours.’

‘Well, if I do, it’s entirely your fault. Hiding behind the hedge and jumping out like that.’

‘I wasn’t hiding, I was waiting.’

‘Well, you’ve no right to. Nor have you any right to ask me where I’ve been.’

‘Yes, I have. You’re in my troupe, remember. I’m not only the boss; I’m also responsible for the way you girls behave. We don’t want any scandals. So answer my question.’

‘Monty took me to a club he knows in Newcastle.’

‘So it’s Monty now, is it?’

‘All right, Mr Montague waited for me after the show and told me he wanted me to consider signing up with his agency. He wants me to go to London with him. He says he can get me work. We went to the club, we discussed a few options, and I said I’d think about it. That’s all.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

There was such venom in Jack’s voice that Lana gasped. ‘Why ever not?’

‘It doesn’t take until three o’clock in the morning to discuss a few options.’

‘We danced, we had a drink or two. I had to be nice to the man.’

Jack’s grip became tighter. ‘How nice?’

Lana reached up and prised Jack’s fingers from her shoulders. ‘Stop that. You’ll leave bruises. It wasn’t like that. What kind of girl do you think I am?’

‘I don’t know, Lana. I don’t know what to think.’

‘And nor do I.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I thought you’d be pleased for me. I mean, you’re always going on about how I have the makings of a real star.’

‘And that’s what you want?’

‘Of course it is. You’ve known that from the start.’

Now that her eyes had become accustomed to the flickering street lamp, Lana could see Jack’s expression and was shocked to see how wretched he looked.

‘Yes, you’re right,’ he said. ‘That’s what attracted me. You’re not only beautiful, you’re talented – exceptionally so – and hard working. You deserve this break.’

‘So why are you so angry with me?’

‘Do I have to tell you?’ They stared at each other and Jack pulled her into his arms. This time tenderly.

‘No, you don’t have to tell me, Jack, and I’m sorry. But even if I stayed, what future would there be for us? You’re married.’

‘I could always . . .’

Lana put a hand to his lips. ‘No you couldn’t, because that would cause a scandal. And as you’ve already pointed out, we can’t afford a scandal. My career would end before it began.’

‘Your career.’

‘Yes, my career.’

‘Don’t you love me at all, Lana?’

‘Hush, Jack, that’s not fair.’ Suddenly she shivered and Jack held her even more tightly than before. ‘We’d better go in,’ she said. Then added, ‘What about Thelma?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Where does she think you are?’

‘I told her I had some work to do at the theatre. She’s used to me keeping peculiar hours.’

‘And she believed you?’

‘Why shouldn’t she?’

‘Oh, Jack, because she’s not stupid and she’s desperately in love with you. And that’s another reason why I should leave the troupe as soon as possible. Now,’ she tried to sound light-hearted, ‘I need my beauty sleep. And so, my darling, do you.’

Once inside, Lana took off her shoes and crept up the stairs and along the quiet corridor to her room. It took her ages to get to sleep. Monty had promised her stardom; Jack was offering her love. But it was a love she could not accept. Not only because she felt sorry for poor old Thelma, but also because her career meant more to her than anything else. If Jack divorced Thelma and they got married, it was not the scandal that Lana was worried about, it was the fear that Jack would expect children. A family could put an end to her ambitions. Jack could hardly expect her to give up now. Not when the London stage was beckoning.

When Jack got into bed Thelma sighed and turned over, moving into the circle of his arms. Guiltily he pulled her close. Lana was right. It was inevitable that she would put her career above any love that she might feel for him. She would go to London. He must make the most of the time they had left together. Surely no one could blame him for that.

Chapter Thirteen

London, April 1950

It was a ridiculous concept, she knew that, but Kay had got it into her head to search through the boxes for her father – and she wasn’t just thinking about whether there were any photographs of him. If there were, she imagined that she would find out more about him; what kind of man he had been. Two people had told her that Jack Lockwood used to come to this house to visit Lana. Not Jack, her mother and the children. Just Jack.

The fact that Moira knew about the visits was not so surprising, considering that she and Lana were old friends. But Julian Fry? He wasn’t a particular friend of Lana’s; in fact, Kay wasn’t sure whether he had even met her, and yet he knew that Jack Lockwood would call to see Lana every now and then. So it must have been common knowledge.

Kay supposed that the visits could have been professional – something to do with the stage plays or even the films Lana had appeared in – but she was beginning to think that her mother might have had good cause to dislike Lana Fontaine.

So she searched through the two boxes that remained after her initial clear-out – one of photographs and one of papers. She thought she might find letters from him, but she soon discovered that there was only a collection of bills and receipts from gown shops. There were no letters, no Christmas cards, no birthday cards, nothing remotely personal. She threw each bill and receipt on the fire, something she would not have been able to do when she first went through these boxes.

I’m angry with her
, Kay thought.
I’m angry because I suspect her of hurting my mother deeply. But if what I suspect is true then my father, my handsome, loving father, is equally guilty
.

All that was left in the box was a collection of theatre programmes.
Do I want them?
Kay wondered. She decided that she would offer them to Moira and then turned her attention to the remaining box containing photographs. She began searching through them feverishly, looking for photographs of her father and Lana together, but there were none, except for those she had already seen featuring her mother as well.
Why is this so important to me?
she wondered.
It’s not just the obvious explanation
.
And then, not daring to find the answer, she thrust the thought to the back of her mind.

‘What are you doing up so late?’ Kay turned round, startled, as Shirley walked into the kitchen. ‘Oh, I see. You promised I could help you sort through those.’

‘Did I?’

‘Well, remember I’d be pleased to help. Tea or cocoa?’

‘Cocoa, I think.’

‘Shall I make some for Jane?’

‘She went to bed early. Said she was tired.’

‘Don’t know why. All she ever does is go shopping. She shops as if she’s come into a fortune and is determined to indulge herself – her wardrobe must be full to bursting. I wonder where all the money comes from. I know she said she sold her house in Yorkshire, but surely she can’t just live off the proceeds for ever? She doesn’t seem to need to get a job, and all she does is go out and spend, spend, spend. All right, I can see you disapprove. I’ll stop being catty.’

‘Please do. And Shirley, I’m going to take you up on your offer. I want to hand the box over to you. I’ll buy some photograph albums and I’d like you to try to arrange the photographs chronologically. Only a few have dates on, so there’ll have to be some guesswork. Would you like to do that?’

‘Love to! I’ve got that kind of brain, you know.’ Shirley concentrated on pouring the milk into a pan. ‘That’s settled then. By the way, Julian says he thinks you’ll go far. He predicts great things for you.’

‘And you value his opinion?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘It’s not more than that, is it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re not a little star-struck?’

‘If you mean, am I in love with him, I have to admit that I might be. Is it obvious?’

‘I’m afraid it is. And what about Julian? How does he feel about it?’

‘I shouldn’t think it’s ever crossed his mind. After all, he’s old enough to be my father.’

‘Does that bother you?’

‘Not in the least!’ Shirley smiled. ‘But can we change the subject before I succumb to embarrassment?’ She spooned cocoa into two cups and then slowly added the hot milk, stirring all the while. When they were ready she put the cups on the table and sat down. ‘And what do you think of Jane’s phone calls?’

Kay raised her eyebrows. ‘So it’s all right to talk about Jane, is it?’

Shirley laughed. ‘Naughty of me, I know, but yes. What do you think about her phone calls?’

‘You’ve lost me.’

‘She waits until we’ve gone out. Sometimes when I come home she’s just walking away from the telephone table. I could be wrong, but it looks like she’s been making a call.’

‘Yes, come to think of it, I’ve noticed that, too.’

‘So who do you think she phones? She’s supposed to be alone in the world, isn’t she?’

‘We could be wrong about the phone calls.’

‘I don’t think so. Why do you think she’s being so secretive?’

‘She’s just a private person, and we shouldn’t gossip like this.’

Shirley sighed. ‘I suppose not. But I can’t help thinking there’s more to Jane than meets the eye.’ She sipped her cocoa in silence for a while and then looked at Kay uneasily. ‘And have you noticed the newspapers?’

‘I thought we weren’t going to talk about Jane.’

‘I’m sorry, Kay, I’ve got a confession to make. I feel dreadful.’

‘What have you done?’

‘You must have noticed how she likes reading newspapers?’

‘For goodness’ sake! What’s unusual about that?’

‘Nothing – except that she’s secretive about that, too. I mean, why should she try to hide it from us?’

‘You said you have a confession to make.’

‘I looked through the newspapers she threw out.’

‘So?’

‘There were bits torn out.’

‘What are you getting at?’

‘Well, she must be keeping those bits, mustn’t she?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘I made notes of the dates and I checked in the cuttings library at work – I told you I have that kind of brain – and Jane seems to be keeping a record of a burglary, one that went horribly wrong. Somehow the thieves managed to start a fire. They got away and they’re still on the run. The police are after them.’

‘The thieves started a fire?’

‘The whole place burnt down.’

They stared at each other for a moment, remembering how frightened Jane was of fires and what she had told them about the death of her husband.

‘Perhaps that’s how her husband died,’ Shirley said. ‘He was a fireman, or maybe a policeman. And even if he was cruel to her, maybe she still loved him.’

‘Oh, poor Jane,’ Kay said.

‘Do you think there’s a connection?’

‘There could be.’

‘Then why doesn’t she tell us? She must know how much we would support her.’

‘Shirley, stop this. If Jane wants us to know she will tell us in her own good time.’

‘I know. You’re right. And if there is a connection we should be really sorry for her. It’s just . . . I don’t know how to say this. It’s just that I’ve discovered that I find it really hard to like her.’

4th April

Dear Julie,

I suppose I must say congratulations. Does that sound grudging? I’m sorry, but I am worried that you haven’t given enough thought to what you are about to do. You’re so young to be getting married, and you’ve hardly done any living yet. By that I mean you went straight from school to college, and now you’re going straight from college into married life. You’ve never had a job that might widen your horizons.

Kay put down her pen and stared at the letter she had started to write, then crumpled it and dropped it in the waste bin. She decided that the tone was indeed grudging, not to say hectoring, and she loved her younger sister and wanted her to be happy.

Julie’s letter had arrived that morning, and every word expressed her joy. Kay couldn’t help but be pleased for her, but nevertheless, she was filled with unease. In the past Tony had never regarded Julie as anything more than a nuisance. How could his feelings change so swiftly? She hoped her younger sister wasn’t going to get her heart broken.

If only I could talk to Mum about this
, Kay thought, but each time she had phoned home her mother had had some excuse for not being able to come to the phone. Kay glanced at her watch. Julie would be home from college. Kay took a chair through into the hallway and sat at the telephone table. At least she could talk to Julie.

Even with the light on, the hallway was dark. The rain had started early that morning and hadn’t eased up. Kay dialled the operator and asked to make a long-distance call, giving her the name of the exchange and the number. She shivered, but it was too late to go and get a cardigan; the phone was already ringing. It was Julie who answered.

‘Kay! You got my letter?’

‘I did. Congratulations.’

‘I’m so happy!’

‘Then I’m happy for you.’

‘You’re not mad at me?’

‘Why should I be?’

‘Come off it, Kay. You and Tony were going out together for ages. Aren’t you the teensiest bit peeved?’

‘Not at all. I think Tony is a very lucky man. You’re young, you’re beautiful, you have a good brain – what more could he want?’

‘So you’re not angry?’

‘Not in the slightest.’

‘That’s all right, then.’

Kay thought that Julie sounded peeved. She smiled when she realised that her sister actually wanted her to be jealous.

‘Kay . . .’ Julie sounded hesitant.

‘What is it?’

‘Mum asked me to tell you that she doesn’t think you ought to come to the wedding.’

Kay was astonished. ‘Why not?’

‘Well . . . you see, everyone knows that you and Tony were just as good as engaged, and Mum thinks that would make people gossip even more.’

‘Even more than what, Julie? I don’t understand.’

Kay heard Julie catch her breath.

‘Julie – is this something to do with why Mum wouldn’t talk to me?’

‘I suppose so.’

Kay had a premonition. ‘Julie, when is the wedding?’

To her dismay Kay heard a muffled sob. Julie’s voice was breaking when she answered. ‘As soon as possible.’

‘Oh, no!’

‘I’m not going to have the kind of wedding every girl dreams of. We’re getting married in the register office as soon as Tony can get the licence.’

‘You’re pregnant?’

A note of defiance crept into her sister’s voice. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘Oh, Julie sweetheart, I’m so sorry.’

‘There’s no need to be,’ Julie sounded angry. ‘At least Tony is doing the right thing by me.’

Kay thought carefully about what she should say next. ‘You don’t have to get married, if you don’t want to, you know.’

Her sister sounded shocked. ‘Of course I do. What would people say if I had a child out of wedlock?’

‘People needn’t know.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Come and live with me. I’d love to have you and the baby. We could make a happy home.’

‘Mother would be heartbroken. And besides, I want to marry Tony. He’s all I’ve ever dreamed about.’

‘And Tony?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Is it what he wants?’

‘Of course he does. He loves me. He said so.’

Julie’s answer didn’t reassure Kay. ‘Julie, I don’t want to see you in a half-hearted arrangement with a man who would not have married you if you had not been pregnant.’

Kay heard Julie gasp. ‘God, Kay, you can be cruel.’

‘I don’t mean to be. I want the best for you. If you have any doubts, any doubts at all, just pack your bags and come and live here. We can make a new life for you.’

‘New life? Oh, yeah. And who would ever marry me if I had an illegitimate kid? It may be halfway through the twentieth century but times haven’t changed that much. If Tony hadn’t stepped up to the mark it would have been off to the naughty girls’ hostel for me and you know it.’

‘Julie—’

‘No, listen, Kay. I love Tony and he loves me. You’ve got to believe it. His parents have been OK about it. They thought it was time he settled down. They’re going to buy us a nice little house to start off with. After she got over the shock, Mum is actually looking forward to being a grandmother. And, by the way . . .’

‘What?’

‘There’s no need to feel sorry for me. Even if you never managed to land him, Tony Chalmers is a damned good catch.’ With that, Julie slammed her receiver down.

Tom opened the door and smiled with pleasure. ‘You’re early. How did it go?’

‘Very well. I think.’

‘You only think? Here, come on in before the rain washes you away.’ Tom took Kay’s umbrella and shook it, then propped it up behind the door. He drew her in, and as usual her heart began to race as she found herself standing close to him in the tiny hallway. ‘Your coat, madam.’

Kay slipped out of her raincoat and handed it to him. ‘Is it ever going to stop raining?’

‘I don’t know, but if this coat doesn’t dry out by the time we’ve had supper then you may have to stay the night again.’

Tom led the way through into the sparsely furnished living room. It could have been cheerless but was saved by the lively popping elements of the gas fire and a vase full of bright yellow daffodils on the table.

‘So tell me what happened.’

‘Only after I’ve eaten the spaghetti Bolognese you promised me.’

Over supper Kay told Tom all about the radio play she had appeared in that day. It was a murder mystery starring a famous fictional lady detective. Kay had played the innocent girl accused of murder and who was saved from the gallows at the last minute.

‘Actually it was very complicated,’ she told him. ‘I’m still not sure how Miss Marlow managed to work out what happened.’

‘Me neither.’

‘You listened?’

‘Of course I did.’

‘In the office?’

There was a slight pause before Tom said, ‘I brought my work home today.’ And then he hurried on, ‘I have to admit, it was a damned good story, even though they got the police procedures a little wrong.’

‘How would you know that?’