Feeling as though she’d had the stuffing knocked out of her. Kitty sat down again.
“There are always flats coming up over Bromham way. I’ll ring a few agents in the morning. As for furniture, I’m sure I’ll find what I need at Peacock’s auction rooms.”
“Oh no!” Mildred wanted so much to make amends. “Eddie’s bungalow is lavishly furnished, and I won’t need half of what I’ve got here. Take what you want. Kitty. I’d much rather you had it than put it out for sale.”
She loved the furniture in this house. It was old, and loved, and full of character. If she searched high and low she would never find the like.
“Are you sure?”
“You’d be doing me a great favour,” Mildred confessed.
“Please, Kitty…take whatever you want. I know you’ll look after it.”
Kitty’s brown eyes shone with pleasure. She looked at the beautiful dresser that had been handed down through generations.
“You wouldn’t sell that, would you?” she asked, knowing how Mildred cherished it.
“Yes, I would,” Mildred lied.
“If you don’t take it, it will have to go to the auction rooms.”
“I don’t believe you!” Kitty was incredulous.
“It was your mother’s and her mother’s before her.”
Mildred smiled serenely.
“Kitty, you’re talking about your own grandmother…and great-grandmother. The dresser has been mine for many years, and now it’s yours, if you want it.”
“Thank you. I would love to have it.”
They embraced then, and it was as though they had been travelling for a very long time, neither of them knowing which way life would take them, meeting and parting, their paths merging one with the other. Now they were parting for good, each going her own separate way, and it was a sobering thought.
For a while they talked of exciting things, like where Mildred and Eddie would be married, and where they would spend their honeymoon; what kind of dress Kitty would wear when she was maid of honour. They promised never to lose touch.
“It would do my heart good to see you married and settled,” Mildred persisted.
“I know how you would dearly love to be a mother, to make a proper home for yourself and your family.”
“I don’t know that it will ever happen,” Kitty confessed. It had always been her dream, and now it was gone, with Harry, and his wife, and the life they were building together. It would be Susan who bore his children, and she would have to live with that knowledge.
Sensing the despair in her voice, Mildred told her, “There’s time enough yet. You’re still very young.” She knew Kitty was yearning for Harry, and feared it was a bad thing.
Later, when the two of them had gone to their bedrooms, they both lay, too excited to sleep. Mildred wondered about the future, filled with plans and hopes, and wishing she had met Eddie years ago. Kitty was still awake when the dawn rose, casting a soft and beautiful glow over her little world, a world that was soon to disappear like the night sky. Kneeling by the window, with her chin resting on folded hands, she was just a little afraid of the future.
“Where do I go from here?” she asked. She felt incredibly lonely, the kind of loneliness that she had not felt in a very long time because now it was mingled with hopelessness. She could see the future laid out before her a small flat overlooking a busy road, endless rows of traffic at the front, and someone else’s back yard at the rear. It would be all she could afford, yet she must try to make it into a home. And even that would take money, probably more than she had in her savings account.
She began thinking about all the things she would need. Even with Mildred giving her furniture, there were all the other items, personal things that Mildred would take with her to her own new home, like cooking utensils, pictures to decorate the walls, and all the many artefacts that make an empty place a home.
The only truly beautiful thing in that flat would be her grandmother’s dresser, and her only visitor would be Jack. Georgie was too far away, and too taken up with her own life. Harry had said a final goodbye, and her aunt would never again be there when she needed to talk: in the middle of the night; over the breakfast table; in the evening after a hard day at work, when Mildred would sit with her feet in a bowl and the two of them would chat about this and that, and none of it important.
Only now did Kitty realise how few friends she had made. The prospect of being alone in that flat was bleak.
“How can it be a home when there’s no one there but me?” she whispered.
For one brief moment she even entertained the idea of marrying Jack.
After all, he did love her. She would have security, and she had come to feel affection for him. But affection was not enough. If she were to marry Jack she would be living a lie, cheating not only herself but him, and that would not be fair.
Thrusting the idea from her mind, she climbed into bed, but there was no rest. She spent a restless hour or two, subconsciously fearful of the future, waking and sleeping, thinking and wondering, afraid of the emptiness that stretched before her. Finally she sat up, her mind in a whirl. Maybe it was time to make plans, to do something that would take her right away, open up a whole new world for her? Yes! That’s what she would do. Tomorrow, she would think it all through. Tomorrow, in the light of day, she would be able to think more clearly.
With a lighter heart she fell into a deep contented sleep; not realising that so often the promises we make ourselves are destined to be broken, thin strands of hope, severed by the way in which others weave their lives, and in the way those lives touch on ours.
While Kitty slept, two events were taking shape. Both disturbing. Both would influence her destiny for many years to come.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“But it makes sense to marry me!” Jack argued. Mildred and Eddie had gone to see the florist, leaving Jack and Kitty talking.
Jack believed he would never get a better chance of persuading Kitty to be his wife. Ever since he’d been told that she was to be turned out of her home, he had taken it on himself to be her protector and provider, if only she would let him, “Why should you live in some poky little flat, when I can build you the house you’ve always wanted? We could go to Cyprus for our honeymoon…make our way there on the cruiser if that’s what you want.” His eyes lit up at the thought.
Kitty got up from her chair and stared at him. In a firm voice she explained, “I’ve already given you my answer, Jack, and it’s no!”
“And you still won’t change your mind?”
“Please leave, Jack. I promised my aunt I would write out the place cards. The hotel needs them tomorrow, together with a seating plan.”
“I’ll help you.”
“No!” Swinging round, she faced him with angry eyes.
“I’m better on my own.”
“All right.” Shrugging his shoulders, he thrust his hands in his pocket and scowled.
“If that’s what you want?”
“It is.”
“But we’re still on for dinner, aren’t we?” As always he had driven her to the edge of her patience.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s just that I can’t stand the thought of you living alone. I want you with me. I want to take care of you.”
“JACK!”
For all his faults she couldn’t help but like him.
“All right! All right! I’m going.” And he went quickly, before he ruined what was left of their relationship.
Sighing with relief, Kitty settled down at the dining table, to write out the place cards. When that was done, she turned her hand to wrapping the present she and Jack had bought the happy couple. It was a splendid oil painting, a seascape that could grace any room.
“I’m sure they’ll love this,” she muttered, sticking a silver bow on the top right-hand corner.
That done, she went upstairs and began rummaging through her wardrobe.
“Didn’t realise
I had things I’ve never even worn,” she observed with some surprise. It wasn’t all that often she went to the shops, although of course. Jack was always sending her little presents…silk scarves, expensive jumpers and even a whole box of sheer nylons that languished on the bottom of the wardrobe unopened.
“You’re too extravagant, Jack Harper,” she chided with a little smile.
“The way you spend money, it’s a wonder you’re not bankrupt.”
She went through the drawers, cupboards and bedside cabinets, sorting the good from the bad, the needed from the unwanted, and when it was all done, she had four carrier bags, two cardboard boxes, and a huge bundle filled with things that were hardly used and never likely to be.
After that she showered and changed, answering the telephone in between, cringing when each time it was Jack at the other end.
“You are still coming out to dinner with me, aren’t you?” he pleaded in the first call. In the second he confirmed the time he would collect her; in the third, when Kitty threatened not to answer the phone again, he told her he loved her, he was sorry, and there was nothing more he wanted in the whole world than for her to be his wife. Kitty warned that if he was going to pester on that particular issue she would not come out with him.
“Hand on heart I won’t,” he promised.
The fourth and final call was again from Jack, pleading with her to understand why he couldn’t take her out after all.
“You know that forty-foot Birchwood I’ve been waiting for all day. Well, it’s just arrived. It’s an absolute beauty. I can’t trust the driver to put it in the water, not with that crane playing up. The prospective buyer wants to try it out first thing in the morning, so I’m sorry, darling, there’s nothing for it but to roll up my sleeves and put her in the water myself.” He pleaded for her to understand, promising they would enjoy their dinner out another night.
“When the boat’s sold, and we’ll have cause to celebrate!”
“That’s all right,” Kitty assured him. In fact she was immensely grateful. With the wedding a little over a week away, there was still much to do.
Mildred collected the afternoon post as she came in.
“Here’s one for you,” she said, handing Kitty a dainty white envelope.
Taking the envelope Kitty turned it over in her hands before holding it to her nose and gently sniffing.
“Perfumed,” she remarked curiously.
“Who on earth would be writing to me in a perfumed envelope?”
“You won’t know if you don’t open it,” Mildred chuckled.
“I don’t suppose for one minute it’s from Georgie?”
Kitty laughed at that.
“Not for one minute,” she confirmed.
“This perfume smells very expensive. Georgie tends to get hers from the market stall.”
While Kitty opened the envelope, Mildred attended to her many items of wedding correspondence. She had a fistful of replies to her wedding invitations, and a pile of bills that must be settled in the next week.
“I must have been mad to let Eddie rush me,” she sighed, pushing her spectacles back from the end of her nose.
Kitty took out the letter.
“Don’t tell me you’re beginning to regret it all?” she asked with a sly little smile.
Mildred shyly bowed her head.
“Course I don’t,” she said tenderly, adjusting her spectacles.
“We were made for each other.”
Kitty smiled and returned her attention to the letter in her hand. The spidery scrawl was neatly written in the centre of the page; the edges were painted with garlands of flowers, and a sprig of blossom at each corner. Intrigued, Kitty silently read.
As she did, the colour drained from her face. Finally she dropped the letter to her lap and leaned back in the chair, her eyes closed and her hands visibly trembling.
Sensing the change of mood, her aunt looked up. Kitty’s face told its own story.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, laying her pile of correspondence on her knee.
“Bad news, is it?”
Gathering her dignity. Kitty put on a bright smile.
“No, it’s good news really.” She handed the letter over.
“Read for yourself.”
Straightening the page, Mildred again adjusted her glasses and began to read aloud:
First of all, please let me say how very much Harry and I enjoyed your party. I had heard so much about you from him, so you can imagine how delighted I was to meet you at last.
We would dearly have loved to come to your aunt’s wedding, but because I haven’t been feeling too well, I’m afraid we will have to decline.
However, I know how delighted you will be when I explain the reason for my not feeling too good. Harry and I are expecting our first baby, due at the end of October.
I won’t mind whether it’s a boy or or a girl, but Harry aches for a son, so I’ll do my best to produce one for him.
I expect you know of Harry’s ambition to father at least two children, so if this one is a son for Harry, who knows, maybe the next one will be a girl for me?
I have formally answered your aunt’s kind invitation.
Harry sends his regards.
Yours affectionately, Susan Mildred sat very still for what seemed an age, then she gave the letter back to Kitty. Peering over her spectacles, she murmured, “I didn’t realise how much you loved him. I do now, and I’m very sorry, Kitty. I know how you must feel.”
The letter felt like a ton weight in Kitty’s trembling fingers.
Carefully folding it, she replaced it into the envelope.
“I’m happy for them,” she said.
“Susan’s right. Harry always talked about having a family, a son.” She sent her mind back over the years, to the garden they played in as children, where they swung on the apple tree, and Harry pushed her too high and wouldn’t stop until she screamed. She recalled the very first kiss they had shared, and the way he had often talked of his future, his dreams and ambitions, and his intention to have a family of his own some day.
“A daughter with your lovely nature,” he said.
“And a son to run with, to play football with, a son who would look to his father for guidance. A son with your shining brown eyes, Kitty,” he had whispered, and her young heart had sung for joy.
All that was gone now. Another woman was carrying Harry’s son. Another woman, with hard blue eyes, and a jealous nature. But then she had every reason to be jealous. Harry was a man among men, strong and caring, with a smile that could brighten even the grey est morning.
“Will you write back?” Mildred enquired. There was nothing she could do but just be there. Sometimes life could be so cruel. Here was Kitty who had endured so much, forgiven those who had taken from her, befriending anyone who turned to her, and yet was still denied the happiness she deserved. Then there was herself, a selfish woman who had wronged this lovely girl, driven her own family away and drowned herself in booze and self-pity. If it hadn’t been for Kitty. Oh! She daren’t dwell too much on that. Especially now, when she had found Eddie, and happiness, and a whole new life. But she didn’t deserve it. Time and again she had told herself that. She did not deserve it. And now Kitty was dealt another blow, a blow that must have cut deep. But Kitty would not let it get her down. She always rose above life’s adversities. That was what made her so special.
“Of course I’ll write,” Kitty said.
“How could I not congratulate them on their wonderful news?” Even in her despair, a tide of joy swept through her, for Harry’s sake, and for that fortunate child who would have him for a father.
“You don’t have to be lonely, Kitty.” It was more a heartfelt plea than a statement.
“I’m not lonely,” Kitty lied.
“I’ve told you before, you’re not to worry about me.”
“Jack adores you. Why don’t you at least think about a life with him?”
Kitty gave her a war
ning look.
“You’re getting to be as stubborn as him. I won’t contemplate a life with Jack because I don’t love him. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“Love isn’t everything.”
Kitty didn’t answer straightaway. How could Mildred say that, when for these past months she had found a whole new meaning for living?
“Would you marry Eddie if you didn’t love him?” she asked simply.
Mildred’s eyes flickered. Unable to look Kitty in the face, she lowered her gaze.
“I have no right to tell you how you should live.”
“Neither has Jack…or Georgie,” Kitty said softly.
“But it doesn’t stop them from trying to run my life either.”
The smile in Kitty’s voice made Mildred look up. Relieved that she had been forgiven, she said, “It’s because we love you.”
“I know.” Desperate to change the subject, she observed, “You’ve got a good pile of correspondence there. Anything exciting?”
Filtering through the assortment of mail, Mildred drew a letter out.
“Here’s the reply from Susan Jenkins…not coming as she said.”
Quickly putting that to one side, she opened another.
“Oh, look! Miss Davis will be coming after all.” They had feared she might still be on her travels.
“That’s wonderful!” Kitty declared, her face wreathed in pleasure.
“It’ll be lovely seeing her again, and she’s bound to have so many stories to tell.”
All in all, there were twenty-two people coming to Mildred’s wedding; most of the guests who had attended Kitty’s party and a number of Eddie’s relatives, none of whom Kitty knew.
Mildred saved the good news until last.
“You’ll be pleased to know that Georgie has answered at last, and yes, she’s decided to turn up after all.” The card from her was bent at the corners, crinkled and grubby.
Kitty read it and whooped for joy.
“I’ll strangle her!” she cried.
“Why hasn’t she replied to my letters? Why didn’t she let me know she was coming to the wedding, instead of just scribbling a card to you?”
Living a Lie Page 29