Thank goodness for that
, Kay thought, and she wondered if Shirley knew how much she had changed in the short time she had been working for the BBC. Well, not exactly changed. Blossomed. That was the word.
‘You two are certainly going to outshine me,’ Jane had told them.
‘Not at all,’ Kay reassured her.
‘What could be more fashionable than a little black cocktail dress?’ Shirley added. ‘And as for that necklace. Are they real?’
Jane laughed. ‘Of course not. How could I afford diamonds? Just paste, I’m afraid.’
Mamie had gone to a great deal of trouble to make the buffet spread inviting. And Shirley found it hard to resist the temptations of the table.
‘Shall we tell her?’ Jane asked Kay laughingly.
‘Tell her what?’
‘That her beautiful, svelte figure will not stand many more of those canapés. They may be small but they’re very rich.’
‘I heard that,’ Shirley said. ‘And you’re right. My New Year’s resolution will be to exercise more restraint as far as food is concerned. Promise you.’
A moment later Shirley was led away by Mamie to be introduced to some friends of hers. ‘My niece works for the BBC,’ they heard her saying proudly.
Jane raised her eyebrows. ‘Poor old Shirley.’
‘Why so?’
‘She’ll be paraded round all these old dears who will want to know if she’s met anyone famous.’
‘Do you know, I don’t think that bothers her,’ Kay said.
‘Being paraded round?’
‘Not exactly, but I think she rather enjoys the kudos her job gives her. And why shouldn’t she?’
‘No reason at all. She’s in a different league from you and me, isn’t she? I mean a woman who made a mess of her marriage and a girl who worked in a grocery shop.’
For some reason this hurt. It was true that Kay had enjoyed working at Sampson’s, but it was also true that she had resented having to leave school so that her younger sister could go to college. She had decided to make the best of things. ‘A proper little Pollyanna’, her old friend Miss Bennet had teased. Miss Bennet had also urged her to strive for something more.
Well, here she was in London. She was renting a lovely house in her own name and she had two lodgers. Or paying guests, as her mother would call them. But that was not all Miss Bennet would have wanted for her. Nor Moira Davies either. She decided that her resolution should be that she must find an interesting job.
‘Why so thoughtful?’ Jane asked her.
‘Oh, you know, the end of the year,
tempus fugit
sort of thing.’
‘I thought you looked sad.’
‘No, not sad.’ As she spoke she suddenly noticed that Jane looked very sad indeed. In fact her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. ‘Oh, Jane, what is it?’
‘Memories. Just memories. Ignore me.’
‘You two should be mingling, you know,’ Shirley said as she approached them. Then she lowered her voice and said, ‘Aunt Mamie’s friends are sweet, but not one of them is less than fifty. And I can’t tell you how many of them want to talk about the war. And now listen to them! They’ve started singing “Pack Up your Troubles”, and that was from the First World War!’
‘They’re enjoying themselves,’ Jane said. ‘Don’t be cruel.’
Shirley looked mortified. ‘Was I being cruel? I didn’t mean to be.’
The three girls looked over to the group that had formed around the piano. Kay thought,
Here we are, about to tip over into the second half of this disastrous century, and these people are drawn together by their memories, both good and bad
. It was very touching but she could understand why Shirley felt impatient with them. Like all young people should, she wanted to move on, not be drawn into the past.
‘Do you know,’ Shirley said, ‘I reckon we’ve done our duty here, so why don’t we vamoose up to Trafalgar Square?’
‘Why?’ Kay asked.
‘That’s where everyone goes. There’ll be a big sing-song, and when Big Ben chimes midnight everybody will kiss everybody else.’
‘That sounds like something to be avoided,’ Kay said.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! How old are you? What I meant was that it will be like a big outdoor party.’
Surprisingly, Jane said she would like to go. Kay thought it odd when she said, ‘It might be nice to get lost in the crowd for a while.’
‘As long as we don’t lose each other!’ Shirley riposted. ‘All right, Kay?’
‘All right.’
Mamie didn’t mind that they wanted to leave before midnight. ‘Off you go and enjoy yourselves, but Jane, cover that necklace up with a scarf. There are villains about on a night like this.’
‘It’s only paste,’ Jane told her.
‘Really?’ Mamie looked surprised. ‘Even so, you don’t want someone snatching it and hurting your neck, do you?’
Jane agreed to keep her coat buttoned up and Mamie insisted that they have another glass of sherry each to fend off the cold. Fortified thus, the three of them set off for Trafalgar Square.
It seemed as though the whole world was heading in the same direction. Trains and buses were full, and after a nightmare journey on the underground, Kay was hugely relieved when they arrived at Trafalgar Square. The pavements were overflowing, and now and then Kay imagined that she saw a man head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd.
I’m hallucinating again
, she thought. Either that or it was the second glass of sherry.
Groups of revellers linked arms and sang their hearts out. ‘It’s a long way to Tipperary,’ a nearby group of youths began, but they didn’t seem to know all the words.
‘Come on, you girls, join in,’ one of them invited. And Shirley, taken up with the jolly atmosphere, began to sing in earnest the very songs she had wished to escape from at Mamie’s.
The fervour of the crowd increased until Big Ben began to chime. Everyone became quiet and waited in hushed expectancy. Then they began to count down. At the last stroke they all shouted ‘Happy New Year!’ and all three girls found themselves being kissed heartily – Jane and Shirley by the nearest slightly tipsy young man. But not Kay.
‘Happy New Year, Kay,’ the man who had taken her in his arms said. She looked up to see Tom smiling at her. And then he kissed her.
Part Two
Chapter Eleven
Northridge Bay, February 1950
Julie glanced at the collection of envelopes stuffed behind the clock on the mantelpiece. All of them had been opened, but as far as she knew none had been answered.
‘Mum, are you ever going to write to Kay again?’
‘I have written to her.’
‘You sent a Christmas card, that’s all. She writes to you every week. Sometimes twice.’
‘There’s no need. Waste of good postage stamps.’
‘How can you? Anyone would think you didn’t love her any more!’
Mother and daughter stared at each other. The sitting room was as quiet as a room can be when the world outside is covered in snow. Even the ticking of the clock and the crackle of the flames in the hearth seemed subdued.
Julie had just come back from college to find her mother sitting by the fire. She had looked up listlessly and then returned her gaze to the local newspaper.
‘Of course I love her,’ Thelma said at last. ‘She chose to leave home. I didn’t ask her to go. In fact I begged her not to.’
Julie had taken off her shoes in the hall and now she sank her feet into the luxurious new carpet. The pale green and pink flowered pattern was not what she would have chosen, but her mother loved it. As she loved the mock-Tudor furniture and heavy velvet curtains. All this was out of keeping with the modern style of the house, but her mother was happy with it. Therefore Julie couldn’t understand why Kay, who had made it all possible, had been banished to a handful of unanswered letters behind the clock.
‘You will be sending Kay a birthday card, won’t you?’
Julie was surprised at the spasm of pain that crossed her mother’s face. ‘I suppose so.’
‘I know!’ Julie said, trying to get her mother to show some enthusiasm, ‘why don’t you and I go to visit her? I’m sure she’d be delighted, and she’ll have room to put us up.’
‘No!’
‘Why not?’
‘I vowed I’d never set foot in Lana Fontaine’s house.’
Her mother’s answer was so vehement that it left Julie too shocked to ask for an explanation. Nevertheless, she carried on. ‘Well, if you don’t want to go, would you object if I went?’
‘Suit yourself,’ her mother said. Then she added shrewdly, ‘But what will Tony have to say?’
‘Tony? What’s he got to do with it?’
‘Don’t dissemble, Julie. I know you think you’ve got him hooked. Well, if I were you I wouldn’t go off and leave him on his own. Particularly not to visit your sister who made a fool of him.’
Julie sighed. ‘You’re right. But it’s not very nice of you to imply that I’m out to hook him.’
‘Aren’t you?’
At last there was a ghost of a smile on her mother’s face, and Julie responded jauntily, ‘Well, don’t pretend that you wouldn’t be happy to have Tony Chalmers as a son-in-law.’
‘You’re right. I’d be happy. But just be careful, Julie.’
‘What do you mean? Why should I be careful?’
‘When Tony was going out with Kay he couldn’t be bothered with you. He thought you were a nuisance.’
‘Mum!’
‘It’s true. So why is he showing this sudden interest?’
‘He’s come to his senses.’
‘Don’t fool yourself. It’s my opinion that he wants to pay Kay back in some way. Show her that he cares so little that he has flown from her arms straight to those of her kid sister.’
‘Oh, Mum, do you really think so?’
Thelma suddenly looked mortified. ‘Julie, pet, try to forget that I said that. Put it down to my bad mood. Tony is very lucky to have a girl like you care about him. Even his mother thinks so.’
‘Does she?’ Julie had been on the point of tears, but now she cheered up immediately.
‘Yes, she does. Whenever I call round for coffee she makes a point of asking how you are and saying what a fine-looking couple you and Tony make.’
‘You’re not kidding me, are you?’
‘No, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt you. My one true daughter.’
In spite of her pleasure at her mother’s words, Julie’s heart sank when she saw that they had come full circle and her mother was back to criticising Kay again. She had not realised how much she was going to miss her elder sister, and it was upsetting that her mother felt the way she did – especially as it was Kay’s money that had bought them this lovely house and the furniture.
Now that her mother was in a slightly better mood, Julie risked asking her, ‘So will you write to Kay? Pop a line or two inside her birthday card?’
‘I suppose so.’ Her mother folded the newspaper. ‘We thought we couldn’t have children, you know. Your father and I. Then Kay came along.’
‘A blessing!’
Her mother laughed, but it wasn’t a pretty sound. ‘I suppose you could call her that.’
Unsure of where her mother’s quixotic mood was going now, Julie said, ‘And then there was me. Another little blessing!’
‘A little miracle.’ Her mother stood up. ‘Are you going out with Tony tonight?’
‘No. He and his father are going to their boring old club for a game of snooker.’
‘If you’re serious about this young man you’ll have to get used to that.’
Julie sighed. ‘I know.’
‘So let’s have tea together by the fire and listen to the wireless. With any luck we’ll find a good dance band.’
Thelma hurried through to the kitchen to prepare two trays.
London
Kay stared down at the glittering brooch pinned to the satin lining of the small leather box. It was formed in the shape of a panther with sparkling green eyes. Kay knew it to be a copy of the brooch belonging to the Duchess of Windsor, and it must have cost a fortune. She looked up at Jane.
‘I can’t possibly accept this!’
Jane laughed. ‘It’s gold-plated, not gold, and those are crystals, not diamonds and emeralds.’
‘But it looks so real!’
‘The best fakes do. But in any case, I wouldn’t call it a fake. It’s an honest copy.’
Shirley, who had been watching this scene, said a trifle waspishly, ‘You certainly know about jewellery, don’t you, Jane?’
Jane flushed. ‘I like pretty things. What’s wrong with that?’
‘Nothing! I’m sorry. Just jealous, I suppose. All I’ve got for Kay is a boring old book!’
‘Thanks for letting me know,’ Kay said as she picked up the wrapped present from the breakfast table.
Shirley laughed. ‘Well, I’m sure you could tell by the shape of it.’
‘And I’m sure it won’t be boring. Not if you chose it,’ Jane said. This earned her an apologetic smile.
Kay took a copy of
Brat Farrar
by Josephine Tey from the wrapping paper. ‘How did you know I wanted this?’ she asked.
‘I didn’t, but I know you like mystery and suspense, and it’s by the same woman who wrote
The Franchise Affair
. You raved on about that.’
‘Thank you, both of you,’ Kay said.
‘Righto, thanks accepted. Don’t let’s have a speech about how you don’t deserve it, because you do. Now, I don’t know about you two stay-at-homes, but I’ve got to get to work. But before I go, are we doing anything special tonight?’
‘I’ve bought a nice cake for teatime,’ Jane said, ‘but that’s it. Kay will be going out to dinner with Tom.’
‘Actually, we all are,’ Kay said. ‘We’re going to Domino’s, Tom’s treat.’
‘All three of us?’ Shirley said. ‘The insurance business must be doing well.’
‘The table’s booked for eight o’clock, so hurry home in time to change, won’t you?’ Kay said.
‘You bet!’
‘Wait a moment,’ Jane said. ‘Are you sure we ought to accept this invitation? I mean, Tom might like to have Kay to himself.’
‘That’s true,’ Shirley said and she looked at Kay doubtfully.
‘No, really, you’ve got to come. He wants it to be like a birthday party. I’ve told you, the table’s booked and the champagne’s on ice!’
Shirley smiled happily. ‘Righto! See you later.’
She hurried off to work. Jane still looked doubtful.
‘I suppose she thought she was being tactful, but I’m not sure if that was the real reason that Jane didn’t come with us to Domino’s last night.’
Kay had popped in to Moira’s office for a chat, and they were enjoying coffee and chocolate biscuits.
‘Why do you think she called of
f
?’ Moira asked.
‘I really can’t be sure, but I have noticed that she avoids Tom’s company if at all possible.’
‘She doesn’t like him?’
‘How could anyone not like him?’ Kay laughed.
‘Well, we’re not all love-struck, but I must admit on the occasions I’ve met him he seems very agreeable. If a little reserved at times.’
‘I don’t think it’s a matter of not liking him,’ Kay continued. ‘She just seems a little wary of him.’
‘I can’t imagine why. But apart from Jane’s absence, the evening went well?’
‘Very well, and I’m seeing Tom again tonight. Just the two of us. We’ll probably go to the flicks.’
Moira replaced the lid on the biscuit tin and put their empty coffee cups on a tray. ‘Thanks for reporting in, Kay, but I must get back to work.’
‘Reporting in? Oh, yes. Nothing to report, I’m afraid.’
‘I’m sorry, dear. It must be disheartening, but here you are,’ she handed Kay half a dozen filing cards. ‘My friend in the agency picked these jobs out as likely. So off you go and write some letters or make some telephone calls, whatever is required.’
The house was quiet when Kay returned. At first she thought Jane must be out, but she found her sitting at the kitchen table poring over some newspapers. The room was cold.
‘Jane, you’ve almost let the fire go out!’
‘My God – you startled me, creeping about like that!’
‘I wasn’t creeping about. You were too absorbed in whatever you were reading to hear me. And you might have put some coal on the fire.’
It was the closest Kay had come to having a quarrel with either of the girls. She went to the fire to build it up, and by the time she was satisfied that it wasn’t going to go out and had washed her hands, Jane had made one neat pile of the newspapers so that Kay could not see what had taken her attention. She smiled apologetically at Kay.
‘I’m sorry about the fire, but that’s – that’s how my husband died, you know. In a house fire. A careless coal dropped on the hearth, rolled on to the rug. That’s what must have happened.’
‘My God, Jane, that’s awful. Why have you never told us?’
‘I couldn’t. I don’t like to think of it, but sometimes . . .’
‘Of course. There’s no need to say more. I’m sorry I snapped at you.’ Kay decided to change the subject. ‘But why all the newspapers? Surely you’re not looking for jobs, too?’
‘No, not jobs, although maybe I should consider that. You see, I get so bored doing nothing that I like to read the papers to see what’s going on in the world.’
Kay wasn’t sure whether she believed this. She had never seen Jane pore over the newspapers before today, although there was always the possibility that she read them in the public library.
I’m inventing explanations
, Kay thought vexedly, and decided to forget the subject and get on with her own job hunt.
‘Try not to be too disheartened, Kay. The right job will come along eventually, I’m sure of it.’
Tom and Kay were huddled close under his umbrella as they queued outside the cinema.
‘I’m beginning to think my old schoolmistress friend, Miss Bennet, was right and that I should take myself off to evening classes.’
‘An excellent idea.’
‘I could do shorthand and typing and then you could get me a job in your office.’ She felt Tom draw back and looked up into his face. His expression was unreadable but she knew she had said the wrong thing. ‘I was joking,’ she said, although she acknowledged to herself that it was only half a joke.
‘Oh, of course.’
Instinctively she drew away from him, only to be pulled back violently as a car went speeding by, splashing the queue of people with dirty rainwater.
‘Bastard!’ somebody yelled and a young woman started shouting, ‘My coat, my new coat!’
‘Are you all right?’ Tom asked Kay.
‘I’m soaked to the skin.’
Tom held her at arm’s length and examined her closely. ‘You can’t go to the cinema like that. You’ll end up with pneumonia. Come on, let’s go home.’
Kay was aware that she was making squelching noises as she walked and she began to laugh.
‘I’m glad you can see the funny side,’ Tom told her. ‘I suspect most women would be crying, not laughing.’
Then, as if things weren’t bad enough, Kay slipped on a greasy paving stone and went over on her ankle. She screamed with pain.
‘What is it?’ Tom asked in alarm.
‘My ankle – the weak one!’
Tom immediately supported her with his arm. ‘Can you walk?’
‘Just about.’
‘All right. My place is nearer.’
Kay didn’t argue with him. She knew where he lived – he had a flat just a few streets away from her own – but she had never been there. Thankfully the flat was on the ground floor, and when he had opened the door he actually picked her up and carried her over the threshold. As soon as they were inside, Tom lit the gas fire. He disappeared for a moment, then came back with his dressing gown.
‘Not very glamorous, I’m afraid, but take off whatever needs drying and wrap yourself up in this. I’ll put your damp clothes over the back of a chair. No clothes horse, I’m afraid.’
He went into what Kay assumed was the kitchen and she heard him filling the kettle. By the time the kettle had boiled, Tom had changed into a pair of dry slacks and a large, comfortable sweater. He laced their tea with whisky, and then it seemed the most natural thing in the world to sit in each other’s arms on the threadbare old sofa in front of a popping gas fire.
If the insurance business is doing well
, Kay thought,
it doesn’t reflect in the way Tom lives.
She yawned.
‘Poor love,’ Tom said. ‘I think you’d better stay the night. I’ll take the sofa,’ he added hastily and Kay laughed.
‘I’d better phone home; Shirley and Jane will worry.’
‘What will you tell them?’
‘I’ll tell them that you’ll take the sofa.’
It wasn’t really very funny, but that set them both off laughing until, suddenly, Tom pulled her close and kissed her so passionately that it left them both breathless.