Sing as We Go (24 page)

James hurried down the aisle and the murmuring amongst the guests grew louder.

‘What’s up with her?’ Jim muttered in Kathy’s ear.

Kathy ran her tongue around her dry lips. ‘She – she has a bad heart.’

She heard her father’s familiar sniff of disapproval. ‘Huh! Very convenient, if you ask me.’

For once, Kathy was in full agreement with her father.

There was no way they could continue the service with the groom’s mother apparently unconscious in the front pew and waiting for the arrival of an emergency vehicle.

Kathy felt the vicar’s light touch on her shoulder. He cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed at what he had to say. ‘My dear, I am sorry, but I have another wedding service in an hour. There are so many to fit in these days . . .’ His voice trailed away apologetically.

Kathy tried to smile. ‘If we could just wait for the ambulance, maybe . . .’

At that moment there was the sound of a clanging bell and a noisy motor drew up outside the church. Two ambulance men hurried in, carrying a stretcher between them.

‘Here – down here.’ Morry had stepped into the aisle and was pointing towards the front pew. He was directing them towards the sick woman, but his anxious glance was upon Kathy. There was no mistaking that his whole concern was really for her.

Kathy stood motionless, watching while the ambulance men gently lifted a limp and unresponsive Beatrice on to the stretcher. They picked it up and carried her down the aisle and out of the church.

George walked close behind and Tony, without even so much as a glance at his bride, followed him. Halfway down the aisle, George stopped and glanced back. Kathy saw the surprise on his face as he realized his son was just behind him. He said something, though Kathy could not hear his words, but she saw him gesture towards her. And then she saw Tony shake his head. Anger crossed George’s face and he pointed at Kathy and spoke again and this time his voice was raised high enough for Kathy to hear, loud enough for everyone in the church to hear. ‘You go back to that lass and carry on.’

Tony hesitated and then turned and hurried back towards her. ‘Kathy – darling,’ he caught hold of her hands and gripped them tightly. ‘I have to go with her. It looks bad. If anything happened, I . . . You do understand, don’t you? Wait for me, darling, please. I will come back . . .’

Without even waiting for her answer, he turned and almost ran back down the aisle. He did not even look back at her. Not once.

‘Well, this is a find how-do-ya-do, I must say,’ Jim Burton growled. ‘What happens now, might I ask?’

Kathy had not moved. She was motionless, still staring down the aisle, her eyes fixed on the point where Tony had disappeared from her sight. The truth came at her like a tidal wave, flooding through her, engulfing her, swamping her. It would always be like this. Even though Tony would have to go away, would have to serve his country, and it looked as if even his mother could not prevent that, Kathy could see that there was no future for her within his family. While George might welcome her, he was as helpless against Beatrice as his son.

Dimly, she was aware that two people were moving towards her, coming to stand one on either side of her. Jemima took her arm and Morry put his arm around her waist.

‘Come, my dear, let’s go to the vestry and see what the vicar has to say.’

For a moment Kathy gave no sign that she had even heard, but then, slowly, she shook her head.

‘No,’ she whispered. ‘It’s no use. There’s no future for us. How blind I’ve been.’ With stiff, jerky movements, she began to walk down the aisle.

‘Hey, what’s going on?’ Jim’s voice blared, echoing round the church, but Kathy walked on, tears blinding her. Morry hurried after her and caught hold of her arm. ‘Kathy . . .’

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, unable now even to speak.

As she emerged from the church door, Morry still at her side, the photographer with his box camera on a tripod called, ‘Ah, the happy couple, hold it there. Let’s get a nice picture of you.’

Kathy continued to walk towards him.

‘I say, wait a minute—’

She paused beside him, stared at him for a moment and then flung her bouquet at him. ‘There’s been no wedding. Nor will there be. You’d better go home.’

‘But – but – Mr Hammond—’

Kathy stalked towards the car that had brought her to the church.

‘You’d better go into the church. They’ll explain,’ she heard Morry tell him as she climbed into the car. Then he hurried after her and climbed in beside her.

‘Morry, please. I want to be on my own.’

‘You probably do, but for once, Kathy, I’m taking no notice of you. I’m not leaving you on your own.’

‘Oh Morry, I’ve been such a fool.’ Tears were close now. She fought valiantly to stem the flow, but failed. Morry mopped her face with a clean, white handkerchief. ‘No, you haven’t. It’s a difficult situation,’ he said, with gentle reason. ‘Jemima’s told me what Mrs Kendall’s like, but really, you can’t blame Tony. If it was my mother, I’d be just the same. I know I would.’

Kathy tried to smile, but it was only a wry twist of her mouth. ‘You’re very understanding – and forgiving. I don’t think I can be that generous. Not – not today.’

‘I know. It’s dreadful for you. It’s your bad luck that the vicar is so hard pressed that he can’t just give us an hour or two to see what happens. Perhaps, when they’ve got her settled in hospital, Tony will come back and the vicar can perform the ceremony later. I know your special day is in tatters and none of us can say whether Mrs Kendall’s illness is real or – or induced at just the right moment to halt the ceremony.’

‘It’s that all right,’ Kathy said bitterly. ‘I know it is.’

‘But can you really, in your heart of hearts, Kathy, blame Tony? Can you really expect any man with any decency to turn his back on his mother, to ignore her cries for help? You see, he can’t be sure, can he? He can never be sure. If she’s really ill – if she were to die even, he’d have to live with that for the rest of his life. He’d never be able to forgive himself. Or – you.’

‘It’ll always be like this, won’t it?’

‘Maybe not. Perhaps when he’s been away from home in the forces – and that’s nobody’s fault – things might change. If she can’t deal with that either, then that’s not Tony’s fault or yours. But maybe when the break with him has been forced upon her, there’s just a chance that things might be different.’

Kathy lifted her tear-streaked face and looked into Morry’s round, open and honest face. ‘Oh Morry – ’ she bent her head against his shoulder and wept bitterly – ‘Oh Morry, why couldn’t I have loved you?’

Morry whispered huskily, ‘I only wish you could, Kathy.

The house was deathly still as Morry opened the back door with the key that Jemima had slipped to him. Kathy got stiffly out of the car and walked down the passageway towards the back gate, ignoring the curious glances of the neighbours. Time enough for the gossip to spread, she thought.

As they stepped inside, Kathy turned to him. ‘Thank you for your kindness, Morry. I’ll never be able to thank you enough, but now I’m going upstairs. I need to be alone.’

Understanding as ever, Morry nodded. ‘Of course you do. I’ll stop anyone coming up.’

‘Thank you. Just one more thing, could you undo the buttons down the back of my dress.’

She turned away from him, her back towards him.

‘Oh Kathy, I . . .’

‘Please, Morry, just do it.’

She felt his fingers trembling as he struggled with the tiny buttons.

‘That’s fine,’ she said, pulling away when she felt that he had undone enough for her to slip out of the garment. ‘Thanks.’ Without a backward glance, she headed for the stairs and the sanctuary of her bedroom.

A little later she heard voices downstairs and knew that the others had returned from the church. Then she heard her father’s raised voice.

‘Get out of my way, Maurice. I’ve a right to see my own daughter.’

There were sounds of a scuffle and then of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Kathy closed her eyes briefly and groaned. This was what she had dreaded most.

‘Jim, please, leave her alone . . .’ Edith’s voice drifted up the stairs.

‘Shut up, woman, and leave this to me.’

The door opened and he was in the room, slamming it behind him with such force that it bounced open again. But Jim was too intent upon shaking his fist at his daughter to notice.

‘You want horsewhipping, girl. Bringing such shame on me like this. Well, I’ll give you one last chance. You come home now with us and you settle down and wed Maurice and we’ll say no more about it. Though there’s plenty I could say. Plenty.’

And you will, Kathy thought bitterly. I shall have all this dragged up and thrown at me for the rest of my life – or rather for the rest of yours. She shook her head. Her voice was husky, but there was a note of resolution in her tone. ‘No, Dad, I will not marry Morry. I wouldn’t do that to him.’

‘Huh!’ Jim was scathing. ‘So I was right. You are expecting that whippersnapper’s bastard, are you? Well, Maurice will still marry you. He’s besotted with you. God only knows why, but he is. I’ll pay him, if I have to.’

Wearily, Kathy said, ‘Dad, for the last time, I’m not pregnant.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘I don’t love Morry.’

‘What’s that got to do with anything? I’ve never loved your mother.’

Slowly Kathy raised her head to look at him. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘And that’s the tragedy of both your lives.’

They stared at each other until quick, light footsteps sounded on the stairs and the bedroom door was flung wide.

‘Jim Burton,’ Jemima said coldly, ‘Leave my house this instant. We’ve heard every word of your conversation.
Every
word. Kathy stays with me. You’re a stupid man, Jim. You don’t realize what a fine girl you’ve got.’

‘Fine? Fine, you say, when she’s brought all this shame on me.’

‘Shame? What shame?’

Jim’s lips curled. ‘Well, you wouldn’t know anything about that, Jemima Robinson, would you? You’re nowt but a dried-up old spinster ’cos none of us village lads were good enough for you, were we? Turned your nose up at us, didn’t ya? Thought you could do better for yarsen in the city, but it dun’t look to have got you far.’

‘Get out!’ Jemima, her eyes sparking with fiery anger, spat at him. ‘Get out of my house.’

‘I’m going.’ He turned towards Kathy one last time and pointed his finger at her. ‘But if I do, don’t you ever, ever come knocking on my door again. From this day forward, you’re no daughter of mine.’

It wasn’t his threat, it wasn’t the fact that she might never see him – or her mother – again, that was Kathy’s undoing. It was his use of the words from the marriage ceremony that tore at her heart and caused her face to crumple and the tears to flow again.

‘Aye, you can cry, girl. But you’ve brought all this on yourself. You’ve only yourself to blame.’

With that, he turned and stamped out of the room and down the stairs. The last words she heard were, ‘Come along, Edith, we’re going home, and if you ever have anything to do with that girl again, I’ll throw you out an’ all.’

The back door slammed and there was a stunned silence throughout the whole house.

Twenty-Four

‘Well, I never did hear the like.’ Kathy heard Betty’s voice drift up the stairs. They were still all sitting down there in Jemima’s front room, drinking tea and talking over the shattering events of the day. Kathy stayed alone in her room. She couldn’t face the kindly faces of the Robinsons and their sympathy. Only Jemima’s brisk attitude was bearable at the moment.

She was best left alone and they all seemed to sense this.

‘What’s going to happen, d’you think? Will they get married, quiet like, another day?’ Ted’s booming voice asked.

‘I really don’t know,’ Jemima said in a matter-of-fact way. ‘It’s up to them. They’re best left to sort it out between themselves.’

‘I doubt very much whether that young man will ever be able to do that.’ Ted sighed. ‘It’s a real shame. He seems like a nice young feller. A bit weak, mebbe, where his mother’s concerned, but who are we to judge?’

‘Precisely,’ Jemima said. ‘More tea, Betty?’

‘No thank you, Jemima cariad. We’d best be on our way. We want to be home before dark. Before the blackout. Oh dear me, and to think that poor Tony will be gone on Monday. I don’t think there’s going to be much time for them to sort anything out, do you?’

‘Sadly, no, I don’t. His mother will do her best to keep him at her bedside until Monday morning. Still, don’t you worry about Kathy. I’ll look after her.’

‘Shall we say goodbye to her?’

‘Best not. I’ll tell her later. And I’m sure she knows she has your support.’

‘Give her our love and tell her there’s always a home for her with us – whatever happens.’ This last was from Ted, and Kathy’s tears flowed afresh at the kindness in his tone.

Why, oh why, couldn’t she have fallen in love with Morry? Life would have been so simple then. But she knew she could never marry him. He was a dear, dear friend but – for her – nothing more.

She could hear Amy’s tearful voice. ‘Tell her I’ll write, because I don’t know when I might have to – to go.’

‘I will, dear. Now, chin up, you’ll soon be a Wren. Wrens don’t cry.’

‘This one does.’ Amy tried to laugh through her tears.

There was much hugging and kissing and calls of ‘goodbyes’ before Kathy heard them all clattering down the passage and out into the street. Car doors banged, the engine started and they were gone.

Kathy heard Jemima moving about below, heard the clatter of pots and cutlery, and knew she should go down and help. But she couldn’t move. She remained sitting motionless on the edge of the bed, still in her wedding dress with the buttons undone down the back, her fingers knotted so tightly together that the knuckles were white.

Footsteps on the stairs and Jemima came in bearing a cup of hot, strong tea. ‘Now, my dear, dry your tears and drink this. Then we must think what to do.’

She sat down on a spindly-legged bedroom chair facing Kathy. ‘Come along, drink it up.’