Authors: Margaret Dickinson
Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Historical, #Romance, #20th Century, #General
‘We could do with some younger blood,’ Mr Spencer confided. ‘Now, my dear, if you’d just like to sit there while we get started. We have a break for a cup of tea about half past eight and I’ll give you a trial then.’ Mr Spencer was short and bald, with tufts of springy hair growing just above his ears. He was very bow-legged and walked with a rolling gait, but his pale blue eyes twinkled merrily from behind the thick lenses of his spectacles. ‘It doesn’t do to take a family member’s recommendation on trust, I’m afraid,’ he went on apologetically. ‘We once had a young man come. His mother had told me he’d the most marvellous baritone voice. But, oh dear me, the poor lad couldn’t sing a note in tune. Not a single note. So you do see, my dear, don’t you, why I must try you out?’
‘Of course, Mr Spencer,’ Kathy murmured. Briefly, she wondered if finding himself among the geriatric membership the young man had sung off key on purpose. For a moment, she was very tempted to follow his example, whether it had been deliberate or not. But as she sat and listened to the choir, she became entranced. Until now, she’d only been able to sing hymns in church and songs from her school days. Now, a whole new repertoire could open up for her. Giving herself up utterly to the soaring music and the beautiful voices, she even forgot about Tony Kendall.
When the group broke up to help themselves to a cup of tea and a biscuit at the far end of the school hall, Mr Spencer approached her. ‘Now, my dear, if you’d like to come to the piano . . . ?’ He led the way and sat down at the instrument. ‘What would you like to sing for me?’
‘Er – I only know hymns, Mr Spencer. How about “The day Thou gavest . . .”? It’s one of my favourites.’
‘Of course, my dear. Now let me see . . .’ He picked up a hymn book that contained not only the words but the music too, propped it up on the music stand above the keyboard and began to play.
Kathy’s pure, clear voice filled the hall and the tea-drinkers stopped their chatter and began to move down the hall towards the piano. Now it was they who sat and listened. As the hymn came to an end and the music died away, behind Kathy there was a spontaneous round of applause and she blushed.
‘Wherever did you find her, Ron?’
Mr Spencer was smiling up at Kathy. ‘Can’t take the credit, I’m afraid. It was Miss Robinson who recommended her.’
There was a chorus of, ‘You will join us, dear, won’t you?’
‘I’d love to,’ Kathy said. At that moment, she could think of nothing she’d like better than to be able to sing to her heart’s content every other week. And there were still the church services on Sunday mornings too.
When she arrived home, Jemima wanted to hear all about it and Kathy’s enthusiasm was genuine.
‘I’m pleased,’ Jemima said. ‘I’d wondered if you’d find them a little old for you. Still, it’s the singing you’re going for and you’ll still be able to have your nights out with Stella, won’t you?’
At once, the shiver of guilt that ran through her spoiled Kathy’s delight in the evening.
Tony had asked Kathy to meet him after work on the Saturday evening. She waited in the shelter of the Stone-bow’s arches, just across the street from the department store, and watched all the staff leave one by one. At last, when everyone else had gone, she saw him come out of the door, locking it carefully behind him. Then, as he crossed the road towards her, she stepped out into the light.
‘
There
you are,’ Tony said and took her arm. ‘Are you all right? You look a little tired. Are they working you too hard?’
Kathy smiled up at him. If she was tired, it was because her nights were disturbed by thoughts of him. ‘I’m fine,’ she assured him. ‘Where are we going?’
‘I thought we’d go for a drive in the country instead of going to the cinema.’
‘In the dark?’
‘We’ll call at a nice little pub where no one will know us.’
‘Can you be sure of that? There was a woman in the restaurant last week who knew you. She came and spoke to me after you left.’
‘Was there?’ he said casually. ‘Well, an awful lot of people know me. It’s the job, you know. Ah, here we are. This is my car.’
At the kerbside stood a dark green open-top car.
‘This is very smart,’ Kathy said and was rewarded by the beam of delight that spread across his face.
‘It’s an Alvis Roadster,’ he said proudly as he opened the door for her. ‘Hop in.’
Kathy wasn’t quite sure how to ‘hop in’ and ended up scrambling into the vehicle in a most undignified and unladylike manner. She giggled as she imagined what Aunt Jemima would say if she could have seen her.
Tony went round the other side and vaulted neatly over the low door and slid down into the seat.
‘Now why didn’t I think of doing that?’ Kathy said and they both laughed.
‘Are you going to be warm enough? March is a little early to have the hood down, but I never put it up unless it’s raining.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Kathy assured him, tucking her scarf around her neck. ‘I’m used to outdoor life, remember.’
As he drove out of the city, the wind blew in her hair and she felt exhilarated by the speed and the freedom.
‘Now I know how Mr Toad felt,’ she shouted to him above the noise of the engine.
‘Who?’
‘Oh, never mind,’ she laughed.
The country pub was cosy and informal and they both relaxed. Though there were no other women in the pub, no one seemed to give her a disapproving glance and, even if they had, she wouldn’t have cared. For the first time in Tony’s company, Kathy felt she could be herself. This was more her kind of scene. She felt more at home in a country pub than in the formal surroundings of a fancy city restaurant. For the first time she could forget that he was the boss and she just a lowly employee. Here, she could feel she was his equal. Tony too seemed more at ease. He laughed and joked and teased her gently.
‘You know, you really are a very pretty girl. So fresh and unspoilt.’
‘Unsophisticated and ignorant, you mean,’ she laughed. ‘A real country mouse lost in the big city.’
‘No, I don’t mean that,’ he said gently and his dark brown eyes looked deeply into hers. ‘But you do seem more at home here than in the city, I must say.’
Kathy shrugged. ‘Well, I’ve lived all my life in the country. This pub is very like the one we’ve got in Abbeytoft.’
‘And who used to take you to this pub? Have I got a rival for your affections?’
Kathy laughed as she felt herself blush. ‘No, it was only Morry.’ Then she felt guilty at dismissing him as ‘only Morry’. Swiftly she said, ‘Morry is my best friend’s brother. He – he’s a good friend to me too. And he’s Miss Robinson’s nephew.’
‘Ah! Do I detect a bit of matchmaking?’
‘They can try,’ she answered pertly. ‘But it won’t work.’ She forbore to tell him that it never would have done in a million years. That would have sounded very cruel to Morry.
He moved closer to her along the bench seat, picked up her left hand and touched her fourth finger. A shiver of delight coursed through her. ‘So,’ he murmured, his voice low and deep, ‘You’re not “spoken for”?’
Kathy’s heart felt as if it were turning somersaults in her chest. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘I’m not spoken for.’
‘Good,’ he said with an air of authority. Then he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, while his brown eyes caressed her.
On the way back towards the city, he pulled to a halt down a country lane and stopped the engine. Then he turned and took her in his arms, kissing her gently on the mouth.
‘But now, my darling girl, you can consider yourself “spoken for”.’
Ten
‘Amy’s coming for Easter,’ Jemima informed her during the first week in April, as she opened a letter at the breakfast table. ‘I can’t imagine why the interest in visiting her maiden aunt all of a sudden,’ she said airily, but her eyes were twinkling with merriment.
Kathy stared at her for a moment and then forced a smile. She had to appear delighted that her best friend was visiting, but in truth her heart was sinking at the thought that she wouldn’t be able to meet Tony if he should ask her.
‘Do you mind?’ she asked, hoping that Jemima would express irritation at yet another intrusion on her quiet, well-ordered life.
‘Of course not,’ Jemima replied spiritedly. ‘She’s my god-daughter as well as my niece.’ For a moment her eyes took on a faraway, dreamy expression. ‘You know, that was one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me. Asking me to be godmother to their precious daughter. Especially . . .’ Her voice faded away and she shook herself and came back to the present with a jolt. Briskly, she added, ‘It’s nice to see the child, even if it is you she’s coming to see.’
‘I’m sure—’ Kathy began.
‘Now, now, no little white lies to make me feel better. I can’t abide being lied to, whatever the reason.’ There was a pause before she went on. ‘I thought I might treat the three of us to a day at the seaside on Monday. There’s an excursion with the local bus company to Saltershaven. Would you like that?’
‘The seaside?’ Kathy’s eyes shone. ‘Oh, I would. I’ve never been.’
Jemima stared at her. ‘You mean to tell me you’ve never seen the sea?’
Kathy bit her lip as she shook her head. It did sound ridiculous that a girl of nineteen had never seen the sea.
Jemima shook her head slowly. ‘Your father—’ she began but then stopped and altered whatever it was she’d been going to say. ‘Then we’d better rectify that omission, my dear.’ She rose from the table. ‘But for now, we’d better get ready for work, else we’ll both be late and that would never do.’
Kathy rose to clear away the breakfast things feeling yet another stab of guilt at the deceit she was practising on this good, kind woman.
Maybe I should tell her the truth, she pondered, but although the romance with Tony was progressing, he’d left her in no doubt that he wanted it kept secret. As the days passed she had the niggling doubt that his reasons were more than just the impropriety of the manager going out with a lowly junior assistant. And to add to her worries, he’d made no mention of plans for the coming weekend.
Very well then, Kathy tossed her head as she marched into work, I’ll make other arrangements.
‘Stella,’ she said when there was a break in the morning routine. ‘My friend Amy’s coming to stay this weekend. And I know she loves the pictures. Would you like to come with us on Saturday night?’
‘Why?’ Stella asked bluntly. ‘Lover boy not coming up to scratch? Not asked you out this week, then?’
Kathy sighed, but forced a smile to her face. ‘No,’ she said carefully. ‘It’s time I kept my promise to you and I’d like you to meet Amy. You’ll like her. She’s bubbly and fun.’
Stella’s prickliness dissolved and she said, ‘I’d love to. I’ll ask my dad tonight.’
‘Blimey!’ Stella greeted Kathy the following morning. ‘Talk about the third degree. My dad wanted to know where I was going, who with and what time I’d be home. Then he said what picture were we going to and was it “suitable” . . .’ She rolled her eyes. ‘And
then
he said “Are there any boys going, because I don’t want you consorting” – consorting if you please, that’s what he actually said – “with boys?” ’ She spread her hands helplessly. ‘How am I ever going to get married if I’m not allowed to “consort” with boys? I ask you!’
Kathy laughed wryly. ‘Tell me about it. Why do you think I left home?’
‘Was that why? Because your dad wouldn’t let you go out?’
‘Partly,’ Kathy said, realizing she’d said too much. It had been Morry’s proposal and her father’s anger at her refusal that had precipitated Kathy’s flight, but she didn’t want to confide that much to Stella. The chatterbox might let something slip in front of Amy and Kathy had no wish to hurt her friend’s feelings and certainly not dear old Morry’s. Sometimes she regretted that she couldn’t feel for him what everyone wanted her to. Life would have been so much simpler. But now that she’d met Tony Kendall, she knew she’d been right.
‘Anyway, can you come with us?’
‘After all that – yes, I can.’
Kathy squeezed Stella’s arm. ‘Great! We’ll have a lovely time.’
Kathy and Amy waited outside the cinema for half an hour.
‘Isn’t Stella coming? I thought she’d’ve left work with you,’ Amy said, hopping from one foot to the other. ‘Oh, do let’s go inside. I’m freezing!’
‘I don’t know what can have happened to her. Miss Foster came for her about ten minutes before closing time. Said there was a message for her in the office and I haven’t seen her since. I do hope nothing’s wrong, but, you’re right, we’d better go inside. She knows where we are.’
The two girls sat in the back row of the cinema among the courting couples feeling as if they were playing gooseberry. ‘But we’ll be able to see if Stella comes in late,’ Amy suggested as they chose their seats.
Later, as they walked home through the dark streets, Amy said, ‘I wonder what happened to your friend from work?’
Kathy gave a very unladylike snort of wry laughter. ‘Her father. I’d bet my last penny that somehow he stopped her coming at the very last minute. I wouldn’t put it past him to drive into the city on his tractor and carry her off home.’
‘Poor thing.’ Amy tucked her arm through Kathy’s. ‘She’ll end up doing what you’ve done. Leaving home.’
‘Maybe,’ Kathy said, abstractedly.
They walked another few yards.
‘What’s up, Kathy? There’s something on your mind. I can tell. Is it Aunt Jemima? Getting on your nerves, is she? ’Cos I can’t say I blame you if she is. She’s a dear, but I don’t think I could live with her for long. Her pernickety ways would drive me potty.’
‘No, no,’ Kathy said at once. ‘She’s been very kind to me and I like living there, but . . .’ Her voice trailed away.
‘But?’ Amy prompted.
Kathy took a deep breath. She hated not confiding in Amy – her best friend in all the world. She felt a stab of guilt that already Tony had become more important to her than Amy and, even worse, more important than being totally honest at all times. It was something she’d prided herself on always being. She might have many faults, but being untruthful was not one of them. Until now. Until Tony. She didn’t enjoy deceiving Aunt Jemima and, even more, she hated not telling Amy. But she just daren’t confide in her. If you told just one person – and particularly Amy – then a secret was no longer a secret. Although Amy was lovable in every way, she’d never been able to keep a confidence. The only thing that assuaged Kathy’s guilt was that she knew Amy herself would cheerfully acknowledge her own failing and had been heard to remark many times, ‘If it’s a secret, then please don’t tell me.’