Living a Lie (21 page)

“I think you had better sit down so we can thrash it out.”

Kitty did as she was told. Then she sat in the chair for a whole two minutes before she could reveal what was on her mind. Meanwhile, Miss Davis sat and waited, patient as ever, her eyes never leaving the girl’s troubled face.

Realising there was only one way to tackle it, and that was head on.

Kitty took a deep invigorating breath before speaking out.

“My aunt has asked me to move in with her…” Seeing how the older woman’s face lit up she quickly went on, “I’ve said yes. But…” She bit her lip, her brown eyes troubled as she recalled her visit. Finding her aunt drunk and unkempt, with the house in a sadly neglected state, had been a shock she still hadn’t come to terms with.

Kitty had toyed with the idea of hiding the truth but, knowing how any keen social worker would worm out the true situation, she decided to have it all out in the open and hope for the best.

“There is a ” problem”,” she admitted.

“Or rather there was.”

“Go on, Kitty.” The voice was encouraging. Miss Davis had already guessed the cause of her anxiety.

“I gather the problem lies with your aunt. Am I right?”

Kitty nodded.

“Is it to do with your father’s money? The house and business?”

“Not really.”

“What then?”

“I want you to know that I don’t care about my father’s money… not the house or the business.” Rightly or wrongly she still blamed him for her mother’s death.

“But… my aunt has used all the money anyway.”

“Spent it, you mean?” Miss Davis was sitting bolt upright now. This was a potentially disturbing situation.

Kitty saw the official expression on her face and was quick to assure her, “It’s all right. I know where the money went. We talked it through and it’s all right. Honest.” She didn’t say it was largely squandered on booze and ‘drying out’ clinics, together with huge legal fees to fend off a greedy husband.

“There’s nothing for you to be concerned about.”

“I see.” The last thing Miss Davis wanted was to interrogate Kitty.

“But there is something you are concerned about?”

Kitty had to choose the right words or spoil her chances of going to live with Mildred.

“I’m just frightened that the authorities might not let me live with her.” Fear betrayed itself in her voice.

“I’m worried they might still send me to foster parents.”

Miss Davis regarded her curiously.

“You must know we would rather send you to a relative than to an outside foster home.” She saw Kitty fiddling with her fingers, and knew of old that this was a sign of nervousness.

“Kitty! The years might have made me a bit slower, a bit deafer, and a bit more cantankerous but I am not so senile I can’t tell when something is wrong.”

Kitty began to relax.

“It isn’t wrong exactly. Well, not now it isn’t.” Already the situation was beginning to rectify itself.

“What is it then? Ever since yesterday when you returned from your aunt’s house after a very long visit, I might add you have skilfully avoided me. No, don’t deny it.”

“I wasn’t about to,” Kitty protested.

“I was avoiding you for a reason, and now I’m ready to tell you.”

“And I’m still listening.”

Kitty knew she could trust this woman, and so she told her everything.

How she had found Mildred drunk and tearful, begging her to stay. How her uncle had left, taking the children and threatening to make Mildred sell the house so he could have half and set up home with his new woman.

“She’s had so many troubles, you see,” Kitty explained with feeling.

“It’s no wonder she’d given up.”

“I can’t imagine she’s had any more troubles than you, Kitty. And you never gave up.”

“I had people to help me. I had Georgie and you… and Harry.” He more than anyone had helped her through.

“Aunt Mildred has no one.”

“She had you, Kitty.”

“No. I was just another burden.”

“And now?”

“Now we understand each other.”

“Are you sure you want to live with her?”

“At first, when she asked me to live with her, I said no. Then I thought about it and realised it would be for the best. She’s all the family I have, and she really wants me with her.”

“What about the drinking? You know we can’t allow you to live with her if that continues.”

“It won’t. She’s promised me. We spent ages cleaning up the house yesterday. She’s happier already. She said the drink was a means of forgetting, a kind of crutch, that’s all. She won’t want it if I’m allowed to move in. You see, she’ll have someone to talk to. She doesn’t need the drink any more. I’ll be her friend instead.”

Miss Davis was torn two ways. On the one hand she could sympathise with Kitty and her aunt. On the other it was her duty to protect the girl from others. from herself if need be.

Kitty saw the doubt.

“Please, Miss Davis,” she pleaded.

“I don’t want to be with strangers any more. I just want to be with my aunt… my family.”

There was a long poignant moment while Miss Davis pondered the matter, then in a crisp voice that bespoke

her authority, she told Kitty, “All right. Leave it with me for now.

I’ll see what I can do. “

Kitty was thrilled.

“I knew you’d be on my side,” she whispered.

“How will I ever thank you?” Her heart was beating nineteen to the dozen.

To get out of the institution . to be free, responsible for her own actions. It was too much to hope for. too good to be true.

Fearing she might have given the wrong impression, and knowing how strict the board was in matters like these, Miss Davis cautioned her, “Don’t get your hopes up. I said I would do what I could. In view of what you’ve told me… the drinking and everything… well, I can’t promise.”

“But you will do your best?” Kitty’s heart skipped a beat.

“You know I will. But your aunt will be thoroughly vetted. The slightest indication that she might be a bad influence, or that she is not capable of looking after you …” Regarding Kitty with serious eyes she asked, “You do know what I’m saying?”

Kitty knew, and she was trusting Miss Davis as never before. If she was not allowed to go to her aunt, she would not go with that foster couple either. Last night she had lain awake until the early hours, thinking long and hard about her life. Now that she and Mildred had settled then-differences, she was already beginning to look forward to moving out of here and into Park Road. If the authorities forbade it, then she would take the only other option and that was to run away, somewhere where they could never find her.

Miss Davis saw the determination in Kitty’s expression. Suspecting the

reason for it, she pleaded, “Don’t do anything you might regret. I’ve promised to do all I can. I hope you know me well enough to realise I won’t go back on my word.”

When Kitty had gone, she made arrangements to visit Mildred, to find out for herself whether the woman had Kitty’s welfare at heart. After all, she had shown very little affection for the girl up until now.

The next two weeks flew by. Kitty’s prospective foster parents were informed of the situation. Obviously disappointed, they reluctantly agreed to await the outcome before deciding whether to abandon the idea of fostering, or wait for another teenager. It seemed they had their sights set on a young adult, rather than a helpless baby;

there were several toddlers available for fostering but they were not interested. Miss Davis had her suspicions and reported them to her superior. The couple were interviewed again and were deemed to be suitable. The matter was left to rest there for the time being.

When the board convened, Miss Davis spoke out for Kitty.

“I believe it will be in her best interests to go to her aunt,” she declared.

The committee members examined the report on Mildred. Initially they had harboured doubts, but several interviews and many visits later, they were satisfied. It was agreed that Kitty should go to her aunt, with their blessing.

Kitty was over the moon.

“I’m not staying on at school,” she told Miss Davis.

“When I’m sixteen, I want to get a good job. I want to earn enough money to travel.”

Miss Davis laughed.

“You’ve obviously thought about it, so I won’t try and dissuade you … although you should think carefully about leaving school, Kitty. You have a good head on your shoulders, and there are many opportunities for a girl with your talents.”

Kitty was adamant.

“If I’m so talented, then I should be able to make my way in the world, with or without paper qualifications.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone so strong-minded!” Miss Davis exclaimed. She took Kitty into her embrace.

“Take care of yourself, my girl,” she said, her eyes glinting suspiciously.

“I will,” Kitty promised.

“And please don’t worry about me.”

Later, when all was arranged and Kitty was ready to leave with the social worker. Miss Davis wished her well.

“And what do you intend to do with all this money you mean to earn?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye. She was in no doubt at all that Kitty would make an impression on the world.

She thought for a minute before wondering aloud, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could help Georgie to get that blue minibus she’s always wanted?”

Miss Davis had to smile.

“That would be nice,” she said. What she thought was: Be careful, Kitty. Georgie might be a good friend, but she could also be a long-term liability! She was on the brink of saying it aloud, but knew it would make no difference. Kitty was a loyal creature. When first she came to the home, Georgie had taken Kitty under her wing. Now it was the other way round, and, as far as Miss Davis was concerned, Kitty had got the raw end of the deal.

Harry shivered as he went into the shower; soon though the water was sprinkling down, warm and soothing to his aching back. That morning he had helped his father clear two dying elm trees from the back garden.

The day before, a rotten branch had fallen and smashed the fence down.

“Riming this way then that, he worked the flat of his hands all over his tanned shoulders, letting the soap run between his thighs and washing the soft skin there; he turned again, leaned his head back to wet his thick dark hair, shampooed it, lathered and rubbed it, rinsed it and turned once more to swill away the remnants of soap. Clean and dripping, he stepped out into a steamy room.

Grabbing the towel he wiped his face, rubbing his hair dry as he went into the bedroom. The reflection in the mirror showed him to be a grown man, well endowed, with hard flat stomach, broad shoulders and long, strong muscular legs. He had grown taller, filled out in all the right places.

As he combed his hair before the mirror, the dark eyes shone with vitality and something else, a quiet sadness that had grown since he and Kitty parted. His gaze fell on

her photograph; it had been taken with his new camera while Kitty climbed the tree in their garden and posed cheekily on an overhanging branch. He had been anxious that she might fall and in his haste had taken the picture to one side. It only made it the more endearing.

He picked up the photograph. Kitty’s face smiled up at him. He smiled back and all the old memories overwhelmed him.

“Will you ever want me again?” he murmured.

“Will you ever love me the way I love you, Kitty Marsh?” There was a tinge of anger in his voice. He had come to realise why she had sent him away but would not press her.

“It has to be your decision, Kitty,” he murmured.

“You know how I feel.” Lonely, that was how he felt.

Never a day passed when he didn’t ache for her, didn’t want her beside him, didn’t long to hear her laugh, or see her smile, or hear her voice. In his mind and heart all of those things stayed alive, but it wasn’t the same. Not like the real thing.

“I hope you’re getting on well with your new family,” he told her softly. How he envied them, having Kitty there every day, her beauty and quietness filling a room, bringing their own special pleasure.

“I understand why you can’t find a place in your life for me now,” he acknowledged.

“But one day maybe things will change. I hope so. Kitty.

God willing. “

Kissing the photograph, he replaced it on the dresser. Taking a pair of blue cords and a polo-necked jumper from the wardrobe, he quickly dressed, ran his hands through his drying hair and went down the stairs two at a time.

“Something smells good!” he called out as he came into the kitchen.

Linda Jenkins was alone there.

“Your father and sister have already had their breakfast,” she said.

“When you’ve had yours, he wants to see you.” Inclining her head towards the door she explained, “He’s in the other room.” There was a look on her face that told him he was in for a lecture.

Helping himself to toast, he poured out a mug of tea and sat himself at the table.

“I suppose he means to rant on and on again?” The idea of going through it all once more was deeply trying.

“I’m sorry, son, but your father will have his say, whether you like it or not.” Linda sighed, dished out his eggs and bacon then sat down with her own beans on toast.

“I’ve already told him it’s too late now.

What’s done is done, and there’s no use crying over it. But he won’t listen. “

“That’s because he’s a stubborn old sod.”

“Hey! Not so much of the ” old”, my lad! That paints me with the same brush.”

“But we’ve been through it time and again. Why can’t he see it’s what I want?”

“Because he still hasn’t realised that you’re a grown man now, capable of making your own decisions.” She gave him a weary look.

“To tell you the truth, son, he still harps on about Kitty Marsh.” She lowered her gaze, scooped up a pile of beans on the end of her fork and rammed them into her mouth.

Anger rose in him.

“What do you mean? What about Kitty?”

She took her time answering, hoping he would calm down.

“You know what he’s like,” she said presently, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin.