There was a woman vocalist singing about lovers kissing and saying ‘I love you’, of lovers remaining constant to one another as the years went by, but also of feelings of jealousy and discord. Sally noticed a change come over Albert. She felt his body stiffen and his accurate steps began to stumble. A surreptitious glance at his face, partly turned away from her, showed his mouth set in a grim unsmiling line. She guessed at once that this song must once have meant something to him. Maybe, to him and his wife, it had been ‘their song’. She tried to laugh it off.
‘I’m not doing very well,’ she said. ‘I feel as though I’ve got two left feet. Let’s sit this one out, shall we?’
Albert nodded. He took her arm and led her from the floor. They sat in an alcove and he was silent for a few moments. Then, ‘I’m sorry, Sally …’ he said. ‘It was that song; it brought back memories.’
‘I guessed so,’ she answered. ‘Songs can be so evocative. I’ve had that feeling myself … I understand.’
He nodded slowly. She wondered if he was about to descend into a black mood of despair. She didn’t know him well enough to be aware of his possible highs or lows of temperament. Just as suddenly, though, he glanced across at her and reached for her hand.
‘I’m sorry, Sally,’ he said again. ‘It’s been a long time since I heard that song. But, as the words say … time goes by. It doesn’t do any good to live in the past. I’ve been learning that lately.’ He smiled at her then, a half-rueful smile, but she could see, also, the light of a growing affection in his eyes.
‘It’s time for me to move on,’ he said. ‘And I’m so glad I’ve met you, Sally.’
Chapter Twelve
Kathy was feeling very excited. Miss Roberts was coming to the hotel on Saturday night to have a meal that her dad was cooking for them. A special meal, to be eaten when the visitors had all finished their own meal and had gone off to do whatever they wanted to do on a Saturday evening. They were full up with visitors that week, it being the middle of July. Kathy had heard her father and Aunty Win talking about how they were almost fully booked for the rest of the season, and she knew that that was good.
She was now sleeping in one of the attic bedrooms, her favourite room in all the hotel. There were two single beds in the room, which left space for not much else besides: a small wardrobe, an even smaller dressing table, and the washstand with the bowl and jug, not forgetting the pot that Aunty Win called the ‘gazunder’.
Another exciting thing was that the grown-ups had agreed that Shirley could spend the night in the attic room with Kathy occasionally, as a special treat. Mrs Morris had been working at Holmleigh for quite a while now, as a waitress and general help, as well as helping with what Aunty Win called ‘the books’. Her times had to be fitted around her husband’s shifts. Mr Morris was a bus driver; he drove one of the cream and green Blackpool buses, and did not always work the same hours each day. Shirley had told Kathy that her mum and dad had had quite a few arguments about it.
‘He doesn’t really like Mum working at your hotel at all,’ she said. ‘But she’s not taking much notice of him. She says she enjoys it, and she likes being able to earn some money of her own again. And so long as me and our Graham and our Brenda aren’t being neglected, then she says she’s going to carry on doing it. And it’ll be great soon, won’t it, when it’s the summer holidays an’ I can come with her?’
‘Yes, and your Brenda as well,’ Kathy had reminded her.
‘Mmm … yes. Well, we’ll have to look after her, I suppose,’ Shirley frowned. ‘She can be a bit of a pest, but she’s all right, really. She’ll have to do as she’s told, though; I won’t stand for any nonsense!’
All this would be happening in a few weeks’ time, but first of all there was the meal to look forward to. It was going to be something of an occasion, or ‘a bit of a do’, as she had heard her dad say. Aunty Win’s new friend was invited as well – Mr Bancroft, the man that her aunty had met at the drama group. He had been to their hotel a few times and Kathy liked him very much. He had said she could call him Jeff, but Aunty Win had decided that ‘Uncle Jeff’ would be better. Kathy liked that because she didn’t have any real uncles. But the best thing was that Miss Roberts was having a proper meal there for the very first time, and she, Kathy, as a special treat, was being allowed to stay up and dine with them.
She knew that her dad and her teacher had been going out together for quite a while now; but Kathy also knew that they didn’t really want it to be talked about. Her dad had put a finger to his lips and said ‘shhh …’ in a mysterious sort of way. So she hadn’t even told Shirley about it; she would only go and blab it all over the playground. She supposed everybody would soon know, though, if they kept on going out together. Anyway, she wouldn’t be in Miss Roberts’ class much longer, so it wouldn’t matter as much. In September she and Shirley and Timothy and all of them would be moving up into the juniors.
She kept wondering what it would be like if her dad were to marry Miss Roberts. Because that was what people did, didn’t they, when they’d been going out together for a while? Then, she pondered, Miss Roberts would be her mum … sort of. That was a very strange thought. She liked her teacher ever such a lot; she loved her, she supposed, nearly as much as she loved her daddy and Aunty Win, but it would be a very odd state of affairs.
And what about her Aunty Win and Mr Bancroft, Uncle Jeff? Would they be too old to get married, she wondered? She knew that her aunt was a few years older than her father, and he seemed a lot older than some of her friends’ fathers. And where would they all live if such a thing were to happen? Uncle Jeff had a house of his own, and she knew that Miss Roberts lived with her mum and dad.
And another very exciting thing was that her dad was talking about buying a car …
Winifred had been surprised at the change in her brother since he had started seeing Sally Roberts. He was happier in himself, much more amicable towards her and Kathy, friendly and unusually jolly with the hotel guests; all in all, much easier to get along with. He seemed to have shed several years. He was no longer a middle-aged man, which was the impression he had once given, but a young – well, youngish – man, enjoying life to the full.
It was his awakened interest in ballroom dancing that had been the main reason for his changed outlook on life, besides, of course, his friendship with Sally Roberts. Winifred remembered how he and Barbara had enjoyed their visits to the Tower and Winter Gardens, and sometimes to the Palace. He had not danced at all since he had lost Barbara, and Winifred had thought that that was something he would never want to do again. He had admitted to her, however – amazingly – that he had been wrong, that life had to go on, and, although he hadn’t actually said as much, she guessed that he was hopeful that he had found someone with whom he might share his future life.
But how did Sally feel about it? Winifred wondered. Although she, Winifred, had encouraged him to ask the young lady out in the first place, she had feared afterwards that Sally might well bring the friendship to an end almost as soon as it had started. But this had not happened. Sally appeared to enjoy his company and especially to take pleasure in their visits to the Palace ballroom. They went there once a week – usually, though not always, on a Saturday, following a visit to the cinema or the variety show.
It was ironic, Winifred thought, after all the time that she and Albert had remained in their single status, that they should both, now, have found someone that they cared about. Her own friendship with Jeff Bancroft was progressing steadily. It was widely recognised now, by their friends at the drama group, that Jeff and Winifred were keeping company, or ‘courting’, to use the old-fashioned phrase.
They met on other occasions as well as the drama rehearsals, although their meetings had to be fitted around the workings of the hotel and now, of course, around the times that Albert wanted to spend with Sally. One thing that she and her brother had agreed was that Kathy had to be given priority. She must never be made to feel that the grown-
ups were having to curtail their pleasures to attend to her needs. It was happening quite often now that she and Jeff would stay in on a Saturday night, enjoying a cosy evening listening to the wireless or gramophone records whilst Albert and Sally were out dancing. They would have supper together when they had attended to the visitors’ requests. Then, at about eleven o’clock he would kiss her goodnight and depart for his own home.
His kisses had been chaste at first, now they were loving and were gradually becoming more amorous in nature. It felt strange – strange but pleasurable – to Winifred, who had not experienced the love of a man for so long. She wondered, and worried a little at times, how it would be if Jeff should become more ardent.
And how did Kathy feel about all that was going on around her? Winifred wondered. The little girl seemed contented enough, but who could tell what was really going on in that little mind of hers? Winifred noticed she had been a good deal more thoughtful recently. She had taken a liking to Jeff, which pleased Winifred, and he obviously enjoyed being with Kathy. She had been out with them once or twice at weekends. Jeff had driven the car northwards to Cleveleys, or south to St Annes; they had enjoyed a walk on the promenade and eaten ice creams, just like holidaymakers. Jeff had grandchildren of his own, rather younger than Katherine. His son in Canada and his daughter who lived in Exeter each had two children, and it was a great regret to Jeff that he didn’t see them more often. There was a baby grandson in Montreal whom he had not yet seen, and a two-year-old granddaughter he had only seen once. So Katherine, it seemed, was something of a compensation to him, and Winifred could foresee no complications should their relationship progress further. She did not, however, allow herself to think too much about what might happen. There was many a slip … she told herself.
Albert had told Sally that the meal would be served at about seven o’clock. When she arrived at six-thirty Winifred greeted her with a glass of sherry, then Winifred and her gentleman friend, Jeff, and Sally chatted together at one end of the family living room whilst Albert was busy in the adjoining kitchen.
The family living quarters were rather limited, especially during the holiday season when the visitors took up nearly the whole of the house. The living room, however, was large, as it had to act as a dining room and sitting room as well. The table was already set at one end of the room, with a snowy-white cloth and gleaming silver cutlery. Albert popped out of the kitchen in his blue and white striped apron to say hello, and then disappeared again.
‘He says that he’s in complete charge of the meal this evening,’ said Winifred, ‘and it’s my job to do the entertaining. We’re very pleased to have you here, Sally. You’ve met my friend, Jeff Bancroft, haven’t you?’ They shook hands again, although Sally had met him before, briefly.
Sally was glad she hadn’t dressed up too much. It was, after all, only a casual sort of family meal. She was wearing a shirtwaister dress in blue and white candy striped cotton, with a white square collar and white cuffs to the elbow-length sleeves. Winifred, also, was wearing a summery dress in green spotted rayon, and Jeff had taken off his jacket, revealing a blue short-sleeved shirt and a gaily striped tie.
‘You look very nice, Miss Roberts,’ said Kathy shyly.
‘Thank you, Kathy,’ said Sally. ‘I don’t wear this dress at school,’ she added confidingly. ‘It’s one of my best ones.’
‘Yes, you might get it all mucked up with paint, mightn’t you?’ said Kathy.
Sally laughed. ‘Yes, that’s true … You look very nice as well, dear.’ The little girl’s dress was bright red and she had matching ribbons that went well with her dark hair and eyes. Sally felt a bit awkward at being addressed as Miss Roberts, but she couldn’t very well invite the child to call her Sally. It would be better to leave things as they were. Kathy seemed to have the sense to make the distinction between Sally as her teacher and as her father’s lady friend – if that was what she was! – and to keep the identities separate.
The meal was Albert’s cooking at its best, although he had not served anything too extraordinary. They started with prawn cocktails, and the main course was roast chicken. The large bird provided each person with white breast meat and dark meat from the plump legs. Sally was impressed by the roast potatoes that were crisped and browned to perfection. (Sally’s mother was a good cook, but even she did not get them quite so tasty.) Brussel sprouts, diced carrots and garden peas, with sage and onion stuffing and rich gravy complemented the excellent meal. The sweet was a simple one, fresh strawberries with castor sugar and ice cream, mainly for Kathy’s benefit.
‘I’m so full up I think I might burst!’ the little girl exclaimed at the end of the meal. She seemed to have forgotten her previous shyness.
‘That’s not terribly polite, Kathy,’ laughed her aunt, ‘but I think we all probably feel much the same way. Thank you, Albert, for such a lovely meal.’
He grinned. ‘All in a day’s work.’
‘You must have been very busy today, though,’ remarked Sally, ‘with the visitors and everything else.’
‘Oh, Saturday’s not too bad really, as far as the cooking’s concerned,’ he answered. ‘It’s changeover day – you know, one lot of visitors leaving and the next lot arriving – so we don’t provide a midday meal, and we try to make the high tea a simple one. We have two women who come in to change the bedding in the morning, and make everything shipshape … And as for the washing-up tonight, that’s all taken care of. Kathy’s going to do it for us!’
The little girl’s mouth dropped open with surprise as she stared at Albert. ‘I didn’t know that, Daddy!’
He laughed. ‘I’m only joking, love. That worried you for a minute, didn’t it?’ Sally wondered if, maybe, Albert didn’t joke with his daughter very often. He wasn’t really the most jocular of men.
‘We’ll see to all the washing-up in the morning,’ he went on. ‘Get up extra early, eh, Winnie?’
‘I expect so,’ she agreed. ‘Now, Sally and Jeff, you go and sit down and my brother and I will clear away, then we’ll have some coffee. And you, Kathy love, you’ll have to go to bed soon, when your dinner has digested.’
Kathy asked Sally, still rather shyly, if she would read her a bedtime story. ‘Aunty Win and me, we’re reading Milly-Molly-Mandy,’ she said. ‘Well, I can read most of it myself, but it’s nice to read it together.’
‘I’d love to,’ agreed Sally. So when Kathy was in her pyjamas and in bed they read the book together.
‘Thank you …’ said Kathy when they finished the story; she didn’t call her Miss Roberts that time. ‘I won’t tell any of the others about this …’ she added in a confidential whisper.
‘That’s all right, dear,’ said Sally. ‘I don’t suppose it matters, but it can be our secret.’
She felt a tear come into her eye as she kissed the little girl’s cheek. ‘Goodnight, Kathy love. Sleep tight …’ She was really getting very fond of the child.
After they had enjoyed a cup of coffee it was decided that the four of them should play a game of Monopoly. Sally couldn’t remember afterwards whose suggestion it had been in the first place. She rather thought it was Albert’s, which was ironic considering the way things turned out.
She was soon to see a different side to him, one that she had not hitherto suspected. It soon became clear that Albert liked to win. If things were not going his way, then he could easily become frustrated and peevish. She had often seen children – more particularly boys – in the playground behaving in a similar manner. If they lost control of the football or failed to win a race some were liable to go off in a tizzy. It was excusable in children; it was all part of the growing-up process and they usually grew out of it. But in a man it was really rather reprehensible.
‘I’m afraid my brother takes it all too seriously,’ Winifred whispered to Sally, when Albert got a ‘Go to Jail’ card for the second time and had to miss another turn. ‘He regards himself as quite an expert at Monopoly.’
‘But i
t’s a game of chance, surely?’ said Sally. ‘It all depends on the fall of the dice, doesn’t it?’
‘I suppose there’s a certain skill involved in buying the property,’ said Winifred, ‘but I’ve always regarded it as fun. It’s not real money, is it? But the way Albert behaves you’d think he was really going bankrupt!’
‘What are you two whispering about?’ he asked then, a trifle snappily, although he was trying to smile.
‘Nothing,’ replied Winifred. ‘Come along, it’s your turn now, brother dear.’
Things went from bad to worse for Albert. He was cock-a-hoop when he managed to buy houses, then hotels, on Park Lane, but was soon to lose all his wealth to Jeff who was gradually sweeping the board.
Albert was the first out of the game and almost threw, rather than handed, his little red hotels and the remainder of his paper money to Jeff.
‘Bad luck, Albert,’ said Sally, trying to make a joke of it. ‘Never mind, you’ve got a real hotel, haven’t you? It’s only a game, but you were unlucky.’
‘Yes, so unlucky that he can now go and do the washing-up,’ said his sister, who was obviously not too pleased at his behaviour.
‘Huh! You must be joking!’ he retorted. ‘I’m going to read the newspaper.’
‘All right, suit yourself,’ said Winifred. ‘Come on, Sally. Let’s see if we can get some of Jeff’s hotels off him. He’s having too much of his own way.’
Jeff grinned good-humouredly. Sally couldn’t imagine him ever behaving so childishly as Albert was doing, should the game have gone the other way. He seemed, altogether, a splendid sort of fellow, and just right for Winifred.
Albert seemed to think better of his conduct in a little while. He put down his newspaper and went towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll see to the washing-up,’ he said, ‘then we won’t have to bother with it in the morning.’ He sounded almost apologetic and managed a sheepish smile in Sally’s direction.
Time Goes By Page 14