‘How long have you been in the army?’
‘Since a year last March.’ It was now September. ‘So I’ve another eighteen months to do. I’m on leave till Tuesday, so it’s a nice long weekend. I came here with a mate tonight, though I have to confess I’m not much of a dancer. He lives in Blackpool, South Shore, though, so I didn’t know him until we joined up at the same time. I daresay he’s got himself fixed up for the evening.’ He laughed. ‘He can charm the birds off the trees, can Jerry. But the bird rarely stays around for more than one date.’ He paused, looking at her fondly, and she thought how lovely it was to see him again. And he was just as garrulous as ever!
‘What about you?’ he went on. ‘When I asked if you were on your own I wasn’t referring to your friend. I meant … is there a boyfriend on the scene?’
‘No,’ she smiled. ‘Not at all.’
‘Phew! That’s a relief!’ He gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Maybe we could meet again, then, before I go back on Tuesday?’
‘Yes, I’d love to,’ she replied without hesitation.
‘Tell me what you’ve been doing, then, Kathy.’ He leant forward eagerly.
‘Well, I’m working at our hotel,’ she began, ‘as I’ve been doing ever since I left school. It was more or less taken for granted that I would, so I didn’t have much choice in the matter, with it being a family business.’
‘So what do you do exactly? Are you training to be a chef, like your dad?’
‘Oh no. Dad and my aunt are in charge of that side of things. You remember Aunty Win? She’s still living at the hotel. She married her gentleman friend, though, Jeff Bancroft, and they have their own rooms at Holmleigh. I’m in charge of the accounts and bookkeeping and all that side of things. You remember I went to the commercial school on Palatine Road? It was ideal for what I was going to do: shorthand and typing lessons, and accountancy. Then I took a further course at night school, so I’m quite well qualified.’
‘And you’re not hankering to do something else? I seem to recall that you wanted to be a writer – like Enid Blyton!’
She laughed. ‘That was a childhood fantasy. Although I do write short stories, after a fashion, in my spare time. There’s not always too much of that, though, especially in the summer. We’re kept pretty busy at the hotel. Don’t ask if I’m published, because I’m not! Perhaps one day, though; I live in hope!’
Timothy nodded. ‘Yes, you were always top of the class at composition, weren’t you?’
‘I might have been,’ she replied dismissively, ‘at junior school at any rate. I missed quite a lot, though, after the accident I had.’
‘Yes, I remember that,’ he replied. ‘We had just gone up into the juniors, and we were all real worried about you. You broke your arm, didn’t you, and weren’t you unconscious for a while?’
‘Yes … and when I woke up I remembered nothing about the accident. Then Mrs Culshaw came to see me and brought me some flowers and chocolates, and a new Enid Blyton book! And letters and cards from all the children in the class. I remember yours especially, Tim,’ she smiled. ‘Sally Roberts came as well; I was so thrilled when she came to see me.’
‘Yes, we all liked her, didn’t we? Mrs Grantley, of course, as she is now. Wasn’t she friendly with your father at one time, before she married Phil Grantley?’
‘Yes, my dad and Sally had been going out together for a little while, then it came to an end just before we had the accident. My dad was like a bear with a sore head when they finished, and I remember I was very disappointed as well. Of course, I’d just lost my best friend, Shirley, when she moved to Southport with her mother. You remember Shirley Morris, don’t you?’
‘Yes; what a bossy knickers she was! She and I never got on very well. You had some other friends, though, didn’t you, after she left?’
‘Yes, but it was quite traumatic for me at the time – Shirley going, and then my dad and Sally splitting up, then the accident on top of it all. That was why my aunt and Jeff stayed at Holmleigh. I’d always been very close to Aunty Win – she was like a mother to me – and they didn’t want to upset me by moving away. So Jeff sold his bungalow and moved in with Aunty Win – after they were married, of course!’
‘Of course!’ smiled Timothy.
‘Jeff’s a freelance artist,’ Kathy went on. ‘He’s always done very well, but they seem content to stay where they are, especially with my aunt still working at the hotel.’
‘And what about your father? Did he never get married again?’
‘Oh no … After my mother died – I don’t remember her, of course – he was very bitter for ages. That’s what my aunt has told me, and there was never anyone who could match up to her, in his eyes. I think Sally Roberts might have done, but I think it was Sally who finished their friendship, not my dad. I wish I’d known my mother …’ she added wistfully. ‘I used to feel … not exactly envious, but I used to wish, sometimes, that I had the sort of family life that Shirley had – a nice friendly mum and dad, and a brother and sister. But then … well, it all went wrong for Mr and Mrs Morris, didn’t it?’
‘Yes, Shirley never came back, did she?’
‘No, her mum got married again to a man called Barry Proctor. Apparently she met him at our hotel, and she’d already got rather too friendly with him before she moved to Southport. My aunt said she felt terrible about it, with them getting friendly under her roof! I didn’t know anything about it at the time, of course, and I’ve never seen Shirley again. I’ve seen her brother, though, Graham. He came back to Blackpool to live with his dad, and Mr Morris got married again as well.’ She shrugged. ‘So much for the family life I was so envious about!’
‘It’s not always like that, though, is it?’ said Tim. ‘My parents are still very happy together. And what about Sally Roberts – Sally Grantley – and Phil? Do you hear anything of them?’
‘Oh yes, Sally and I are very friendly. Funny that, isn’t it, with her being our teacher? She kept in touch with me after I had the accident, and then she asked me to be a bridesmaid at their wedding; that was the following summer.’
‘Oh yes – I seem to remember that now,’ said Tim. ‘You were always quite a favourite of hers, though, weren’t you?’
‘I think it was because I didn’t have a mum,’ said Kathy. ‘I was a bit worried about the bridesmaid thing, in case some of the others said I was a “teacher’s pet”. But Sally said not to bother about it. I wasn’t in her class anymore. Anyway, she’d become quite friendly with my Aunty Win and that was one of the reasons that she asked me. We still see her and Phil and their children, and my dad’s come to terms with it all. Actually, my dad’s quite a changed man now.’
‘Mr and Mrs Grantley have a family, then?’ enquired Tim.
‘Yes, Lucy’s eight and Daniel’s six. I babysit for them sometimes. They’re smashing little kids.’
‘And … what were you saying about your father? That he’s changed quite a lot?’
‘Yes, he really has. So I suppose, in a way, some good came out of the accident. From what my aunt says he was out of his mind with worry and guilt when I was injured. Then when I recovered, he saw it as an answer to prayer. He’d always said he didn’t believe in God; he’d stopped going to church after my mother died. But now, well, he’s never away from the place. He started going with my aunt and Jeff, then he became a sidesman, and now he’s a churchwarden! He still plays darts, though, and has the occasional pint – and, of course, he still goes to football matches. But he’s so much happier in himself.’
‘So you and your dad are happier together as well?’
‘Yes, we are,’ she smiled. ‘He was never very affectionate before, although I always knew, deep down, that he loved me. Now, though, he can’t do enough for me. It has its downside, though. He always wants to know where I’m going and who I’m with. Especially if there’s a lad involved!’
‘And have there been … some boyfriends?’
‘Only a couple of lads from chu
rch. Nothing to write home about, as they say!’
‘And what do you think your father will say about me?’ Tim smiled at her, with his head on one side. ‘Because I’m going to see you again, Kathy. There’s no doubt about that, is there?’
‘No, none at all, Tim,’ she replied. He reached out his hand across the table and she took hold of it. They smiled into one another’s eyes, knowing already that this was what they both wanted so very much.
Chapter Eighteen
Kathy and Tim agreed to meet again the following day, which was Sunday. It was mid September and the hotel was fairly busy, although not completely full, with visitors who had come to see the Illuminations.
Kathy would be busy during part of the day as she helped out doing a spot of waitressing, but she agreed that she would see Tim in the afternoon after the midday meal was finished, and again in the evening.
She decided to put her cards on the table, so to speak, right at the start, so she asked Tim to come and call for her. Her dad would want to know where she was going and who she was with anyway, so it would be best to be up front about it. She had already confided in her aunt that she had met Timothy Fielding the previous night at the Winter Gardens, and that she was seeing him again that afternoon.
‘How exciting!’ said her aunt, looking quite delighted. ‘You always liked him, didn’t you?’ she added roguishly. ‘I remember when you were in Sally’s class you were forever talking about him.’
‘Was I?’ said Kathy, laughing. ‘Yes, I suppose I was, but it’s a long time ago. He hasn’t changed much, though. He still chatters as much as ever. I’ve asked him to come here, then he can meet my dad, and you of course, Aunty Win.’
‘Yes, that would be best,’ said Winifred. ‘You know what your dad’s like. He likes to keep an eye on you and what you’re up to. It isn’t that he doesn’t trust you, but I suppose he still sees you as his little girl. I keep trying to tell him that you’re grown up now.’
‘He’s not such a bad old fellow, though, as dads go,’ said Kathy affectionately.
‘Not so much of the old!’ teased her aunt. ‘I’m five years older than Albert, and I don’t consider that I’m old, not by a long chalk!’
‘No, of course you’re not, Aunty,’ laughed Kathy. ‘Neither is Uncle Jeff. You two don’t seem any older than on the day you got married.’
Winifred smiled. ‘That’s because we’re so happy together,’ she replied, her cheeks turning a little pink.
When Tim arrived at half past two Kathy took him into the living room where her father was taking his ease for a little while with his pipe and the Sunday paper.
‘Dad,’ she called. ‘There’s somebody here that I think you might remember. It’s Timothy Fielding – we were at school together – and I met him again last night.’
Albert took off his reading glasses and looked at the young man, seeming a little puzzled. Then he said, ‘By Jove, yes! I do remember you. Our Kathy used to talk about you quite a lot. And I remember watching you at sports days and suchlike. You were a bit of a scallywag weren’t you, when you were a youngster?’
‘Dad, honestly!’ said Kathy reprovingly.
Tim laughed. ‘Yes, you’re quite right, Mr Leigh. I think I gave the teachers a run for their money. But I never got into serious trouble. My mum and dad made sure of that.’
‘So you’re in the army now, lad,’ said Albert. Tim was wearing his uniform, as many soldiers did when they were home on leave. ‘Enjoying it, are you?’
‘Yes, I am,’ said Tim. ‘I joined the regulars – the REME – to help in my career. I’m an apprentice electrician, you see. And my job’s still here for me when I’m demobbed. I’m up at Catterick Camp, and I must admit I’m quite enjoying it, really.’
Albert nodded. ‘Aye, that’s where I was an’ all, during the war, in the catering corps. So, I suppose you’re off out now, you two?’
‘Yes, I think we’ll have a walk on the prom,’ said Tim. ‘Catch up on old times.’
‘I’ll be back to help with the teas, though, Dad,’ said Kathy.
‘Oh, that’s all right,’ said Albert. ‘We’re not full up this week. Winnie and I’ll manage. Off you go and enjoy yourselves. Good to see you again, Timothy.’
‘Thank you, Mr Leigh,’ said Tim. ‘It’s good to see you as well.’
‘Cheerio then, Dad,’ said Kathy, thinking to herself that her father was in a remarkably good mood. And he seemed to have taken to Tim at once.
She took him to say hello to her aunt and Jeff and they were very nice to him as well.
‘How lovely that you two have met up again,’ said Winifred. ‘I remember you very well, Tim. I used to hear such a lot about you. Kathy was forever talking about you and telling me jokes that you’d told her. Quite the class comedian, weren’t you?’
‘Aunty!’ said Kathy, a mite embarrassed as she had been at her dad’s remarks. But it was clear that Tim was already making a good impression.
Tim laughed. ‘Yes, I liked to think I was,’ he replied in answer to Winifred’s remark. ‘I must have been a real cheeky little brat. I’ve calmed down a lot … er … Mrs Bancroft. That’s your name now, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it has been for quite some time now, Tim,’ said Winifred, as she and Jeff exchanged fond glances. ‘It’s getting on for eleven years now.’
‘Good grief!’ said Tim. ‘How time flies, as my mum is always saying. Anyway, as I was telling you, I don’t think I’m as cocky and such a damned nuisance as I used to be. And it’s great meeting Kathy again.’ Their happiness was clear to see as they smiled at one another.
‘Off you go, then, and enjoy yourselves,’ said Winifred, just as Kathy’s father had already said. ‘I hope we’ll see you again, Tim.’
‘Oh, I don’t think there’s much doubt about that,’ replied Tim, putting an arm gently and caringly around Kathy’s shoulders as they went out of the door.
‘Well, that wasn’t too bad, was it?’ he remarked as they set off down the street, heading towards the promenade. He took hold of Kathy’s hand. ‘I think I’ve managed to convince them I’m OK and not the obnoxious little squirt I used to be.’
Kathy laughed. ‘You were never that. As you said to my dad, you never got into any serious trouble, did you? I think you’ve made a really good first impression.’
They walked hand in hand along the promenade, northwards towards Bispham. There were several people, most likely visitors in the main – residents did not often take advantage of their resort’s attractions – strolling along the prom, hand in hand, or arm in arm, and children bounding along ahead of their parents. It was a pleasant early autumn afternoon with the sun shining in a blue sky patterned with fluffy white clouds. There was a nip in the air, though, that gave a hint of the coming change in the season.
‘Let’s stop and have an ice cream,’ said Tim, and they found a little café just off Gynn Square. They indulged themselves with vanilla and strawberry ices topped with chocolate flakes and nuts, covered with a gooey pink sauce.
‘I really should be watching my weight,’ said Kathy. ‘I don’t often spoil myself like this. I shall have to cut down on the cakes for a while to make up for this.’
‘There’s no need, is there?’ smiled Tim. ‘You look all right to me. In fact, you look pretty damned amazing …’ He was regarding her with a look almost of wonder in his eyes. He recalled that she had been a pretty little girl, but now she was a good deal more than just pretty. Her dark curly hair was almost shoulder length, framing a rounded fresh-complexioned face, out of which shone a pair of lovely luminous brown eyes. She was not dressed in her favourite red today, but the bright-yellow jacket with the stand-away collar suited her colouring just as well. She looked, he mused, like a ray of sunshine. Tim knew at that moment that he had fallen in love with Katherine Leigh, and how he hoped and prayed that she might feel the same way about him. He vowed that he must do nothing to mar this budding relationship.
Kathy lowered her eyes
, a little fazed by Tim’s adoring glance. She already knew, though, that she was so very glad that they had met again, and she felt sure that their friendship would blossom and go from strength to strength.
‘No, I really do need to watch what I eat,’ she said now, quite definitely. ‘I wear size twelve in dresses now, and I mustn’t get any bigger.’
‘Well, I don’t know what that means,’ said Tim. ‘But it sounds OK to me. Come on, then, if you’re ready. We’ll go and walk it off.’
North of Gynn Square there were large tableaux on the cliffs, stretching as far as Bispham, depicting fairy tales and colourful scenes of all kinds. In a few hours’ time they would be lit up, forming one of the main attractions of Blackpool’s famous Illuminations.
‘No point in looking at them now,’ said Tim. ‘Shall we come and see them tonight? We could take a tram up to the end and then walk back. What d’you think, Kathy?’
‘That would be great,’ she replied. ‘I haven’t seen the Lights for ages. Funny, isn’t it, that when you live here you never bother about them. I used to like them, though, when I was a little girl. That was when we had the accident, of course, after we’d been to see the Lights …’
‘Well, you’re going to be quite safe tonight,’ said Tim, putting an arm around her and drawing her close. ‘I shall take care of you, Kathy … always.’ She noticed his remark with a feeling of warmth and delight, but she did not comment on it.
Tim called for her again that evening at seven o’clock. ‘So where are you off to now?’ asked Winifred. She and Jeff were watching a variety show on the television, and Albert had gone to church. He went twice every Sunday now, apart from the times when the hotel was extra busy, to fulfil his duties as churchwarden.
‘We’re going to see the Lights, like a couple of day trippers,’ laughed Kathy. ‘It’s ages since I saw them last.’
Time Goes By Page 19