Sing As We Go

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘Oh no, you can’t,’ her aunt said. ‘You’ll be up to come to morning service in the cathedral with me.’

  Amy’s jaw dropped. ‘The cathedral? You go to church at the cathedral?’

  ‘Of course. Why ever not?’ Jemima said.

  Amy turned wide eyes on Kathy. ‘Have you been?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes. Last week.’

  ‘I go every week,’ Jemima put in primly. ‘If not to the cathedral, then to St Mary’s. Anyone who stays with me is expected to accompany me. And tomorrow it’s the cathedral.’

  ‘And did they hear you sing?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Well . . .’ Kathy hesitated, the colour rising in her face. ‘I just sang along with the rest of the congregation.’

  ‘You mean they didn’t ask you to be in the choir?’ Now Amy was teasing, but Jemima took her words seriously.

  ‘Oh, you can’t get into the cathedral choir as easily as that . . .’

  Amy laughed. ‘I know, Aunt Jemima. I was teasing Kathy. But she’s got an amazing voice. Haven’t you heard her?’

  ‘Well, she was standing next to me and I heard her singing – of course I did – but it was nothing special.’

  They were talking about Kathy as if she was not sitting there getting more embarrassed by the minute.

  ‘Then she was obviously singing softly deliberately. You should hear her when she really lets rip.’

  The corner of Jemima’s mouth twitched with barely suppressed amusement. ‘Then, my dear, this week,’ she said, her eyes twinkling mischievously at Kathy, ‘you’d better let it rip.’

  As soon as they were alone in the bedroom, Kathy asked, ‘Have you heard anything about my mother? Do you know if – if she’s all right?’

  ‘Dad went to Thorpe Farm the day you left and saw them both.’

  Kathy pulled in a deep breath and held it, fearing what Amy might say next. But her friend was smiling. ‘Your mam’s fine. Dad said that your dad was furious when he realized what you’d done. He ranted and raved and carried on alarming, but all your mam did was smile and nod. As far as she’s concerned, Kathy, you’ve done the right thing. There was no mistake about that. My dad said.’

  Little by little, Kathy let out her breath, but her anxiety was not yet gone completely. ‘And since? Has your dad been over since then?’

  Amy nodded. ‘Oh yes. He goes every other day or so. I heard him telling Mam that he’s going to keep an eye on your mam. And your dad too, if it comes to that. He knows what he’s like all right and he can’t forgive him for the way he’s treated your mam and you but, like he says, they’ve been neighbours all their lives and he’ll not see him stuck. He’ll let Morry go and help out if he sees your dad struggling with the work.’

  Now Kathy let out the last of her breath in relief. She hugged Amy. ‘Tell him “thanks”, won’t you? And ask him to give my love to my mam and tell her I’m fine.’

  ‘Course I will.’

  ‘I’ve never seen you clock-watching before,’ Stella said at ten minutes to seven when she had seen Kathy glancing at the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time. ‘Got a date, have you?’

  Kathy laughed. ‘Not really. My friend’s come to stay for the weekend and we’re going to the pictures tonight. She’s meeting me outside when the store closes.’

  Stella sighed. ‘Lucky you! My dad’s very strict. He won’t let me go to the pictures on my own. Says it isn’t “seemly”.’

  ‘Don’t you have any friends to go with?’

  The girl shrugged. ‘How can I make friends with anyone if I don’t go out? The only people I ever meet are at work.’

  ‘Well, come with us tonight.’

  Stella stared at her for a moment. ‘Do you mean it?’

  ‘Of course I mean it.’

  ‘But – but you’re going with your friend . . .’

  ‘Amy won’t mind.’

  For a brief second the young girl’s eyes lit up with pleasure at the anticipation of the unexpected treat. Then the joy in her face died. ‘I can’t. I’d have to ask my dad first.’

  ‘Yes, I see,’ Kathy said sympathetically. She knew, if anyone did, about a strict home life.

  ‘Perhaps we could go another time. Just you and me – when you’ve had a chance to ask your dad first, eh?’

  Stella nodded and smiled again. ‘Ooh yes, that’d be lovely. Thanks, Kathy, I’d really like that.’

  As all the staff trooped out of the store, Mr Kendall was waiting by the main exit.

  ‘Good night, ladies. Miss Robinson, good night. Ah, Miss Burton . . .’ He put out his hand to draw her to one side. ‘Could you spare me a moment?’

  Kathy bit her lip. Amy would be waiting outside in the cold for her, but she smiled and stepped to one side. She saw Jemima glance back and raise her eyebrows but then she turned and walked on and out through the door.

  ‘Good night, Mr Kendall,’ Miss Curtis said pointedly a moment later as she passed by.

  ‘Miss Curtis,’ Mr Kendall murmured without looking at her, but he waited until Kathy’s superior had got through the door and out into the street. Kathy watched her go and saw her glance back as the door closed behind her. The look on the other woman’s face shocked the girl. It was hatred.

  She was so shocked that it took her a few moments to gather her wits and to concentrate on what Mr Kendall was saying to her.

  ‘I just wanted to tell you, Miss Burton, how very pleased I am with your progress. Better than I could possibly have hoped, and rather than keep you wondering for a further two weeks, I’d like you to know that I’m happy to confirm you appointment as permanent.’

  ‘Oh!’ Kathy blushed. ‘Thank you very much, Mr Kendall.’

  ‘Good night, Mr Kendall.’ Another member of staff passed by and the store manager smiled briefly and nodded ‘good night’.

  ‘And now that you’re a permanent member of the staff here,’ he went on. ‘I was wondering if you would have dinner with me one evening.’

  Kathy’s eyes widened. ‘Dinner? With – with you?’

  He smiled and tiny lines around his dark brown eyes crinkled and then he adopted a hangdog look. ‘You don’t want to?’

  ‘Oh yes, I mean, I don’t know if I should. I mean – is it – well – allowed?’ she stammered, completely at a loss to know what to say.

  Of course she’d love to go out with this handsome, debonair man, but for some reason she could not explain, she had the uncomfortable feeling that Jemima Robinson would not approve.

  Now he threw back his head and laughed aloud, and the last few stragglers leaving the store glanced at him in surprise. To her discomfort, Kathy saw two of the women from the ground floor, their heads close together, whispering to each other as they went out.

  ‘That’s one advantage of being the boss,’ Tony Kendall said. ‘There are only the store owners who might object and I don’t think either of them will.’ When she still said nothing, he added, ‘So – would you like to go out with me?’

  Suddenly there was something endearing about the little-boy hesitancy in his tone, as if he really feared she might refuse. Now Kathy felt shy too. It was the first time, the very first time that any man – apart from Morry, and he didn’t count – had asked her out.

  ‘I’d love to,’ she said softly. ‘If you’re sure it would be all right.’

  ‘Of course I’m sure, but perhaps – ’ he touched her arm – ‘it would be better to keep this our secret, eh?’

  ‘Yes – er – yes, all right.’

  ‘Then how about next Saturday night?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ she stammered. ‘That – that would be lovely.’

  ‘I’ll book a table and let you know where to meet me. I’d offer to pick you up in my car, but you’re still lodging with Miss Robinson, aren’t you?’

  Kathy nodded.

  ‘Then I think it best we meet in town. All right?’

  Again, she nodded and then found herself being ushered from the store, her head in a whirl.
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br />   As she stepped out on to the wet pavement, Amy hurried forward out of the shadows. ‘There you are! I thought you’d got lost. Or had to stay behind in detention. Been a naughty girl, have you?’ She linked her arm through Kathy’s, not noticing how quiet her friend seemed. ‘Come on, we’ll have to hurry if we don’t want to miss some of the programme. And I want to see every second of the gorgeous Tyrone . . .’

  Kathy walked along the dark street. Her thoughts in a dream world, she scarcely heard Amy’s ceaseless chatter.

  Mr Kendall – Tony – had asked her to go out with him.

  Eight

  ‘So, did you enjoy the cinema last night?’ Jemima enquired as they trudged up Steep Hill towards the cathedral the following morning.

  ‘It was great,’ Amy enthused, ‘but Kathy seemed lost in a little world of her own.’ She laughed. ‘I think she must have fallen in love with Tyrone. Mind you,’ she sighed ecstatically, ‘can’t say I blame her.’

  Kathy smiled but said nothing. The truth was that the handsome and dashing Tyrone Power had reminded her very much of Tony Kendall. He had the same dark hair and eyes, the same handsome face and that smile! Oh, his heartbreaking smile was just the same . . .

  ‘Dear me, I’ll have to stop for a moment.’ Jemima interrupted Kathy’s daydreams and brought her back down to earth. ‘I’m sure this hill gets steeper every week.’

  All three of them paused for Jemima to catch her breath and Kathy looked about her. On either side of the steep, uneven road, quaint old buildings huddled together: dusty second-hand bookshops, crowded antique shops and artists’ galleries. There were little tea-rooms too, enticing the weary walker struggling up the hill to step inside the old-world interior and seek refreshment. There was even a grocer and a greengrocer to serve the people living nearby. What a blessing, Kathy mused, not to have to go up and down the hill every time you ran out of sugar! Even though the establishments were all closed, Kathy peeked into every window until Jemima said, ‘Do come along, Kathy. We shall be late.’

  At the top of the hill they came to a square with the cathedral to the right and the castle to the left. Kathy cast a longing glance towards the round tower of the castle.

  ‘Another time, Kathy,’ Jemima said, reading her thoughts.

  As they stepped through the huge doors and into the cathedral, Kathy caught her breath. Although it was the second time she had attended a service, she was struck afresh by the magnificence. She walked to her place in the congregation in a trance, drinking in the sight of the huge pillars supporting the vast ceiling. In front of her she saw the intricately carved dark wood of the choir.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she breathed and even Amy, seeing it all for the first time, was bereft of words, quite lost in wonder.

  As the opening hymn began, Kathy let her pure, clear voice soar into the vastness.

  For a few moments, caught up in the joy of singing, she even forgot about Tony Kendall.

  As they emerged into the pale March sunlight after the service, Jemima said, ‘Well, Amy, you were right about one thing. Kathy certainly has a beautiful voice.’

  ‘She ought to be on the stage.’

  ‘Oh now, I don’t think that would be very suitable. Dear me, no, but I think there is a choral society in the city that she might be able to join. Would you like that, Kathy?’ There was a pause before she prompted, ‘Kathy?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I was miles away. What did you say?’

  ‘See?’ Amy said. ‘I told you. She’s in a dream world. It must be love.’

  Kathy felt Jemima’s shrewd eyes upon her. ‘Dear me, I do hope not,’ she murmured, and Kathy felt a shudder of fear. What would Miss Robinson say if she knew that in only six days’ time she, Kathy, would be having dinner with the manager of the department store?

  ‘I said,’ Jemima repeated, ‘that I believe there’s a choral society you might be able to join if you enjoy singing. I believe Mr Spencer next door is a member. I could ask him, if you like.’

  Kathy thought quickly. If she joined some reputable society, maybe Jemima wouldn’t question where she was going at nights. And if Tony Kendall were to ask her out again . . .

  ‘Thank you, that would be lovely. I hadn’t realized until today how much I missed singing.’

  ‘Miss Burton, this is the third time today that I’ve had to reprimand you. Your mind really isn’t on your work. Remember you are still on a month’s trial. You must try harder or I shall be forced to recommend to Mr Kendall that you are not suitable for the position here.’

  Kathy opened her mouth to retort that she’d already been told her appointment had been made permanent, but then she bit her tongue and instead said contritely, ‘I’m so sorry, Miss Curtis.’

  For the rest of the day Kathy tried hard to banish all thoughts of the handsome young manager. She didn’t want to risk losing this job, for several reasons. But top of her list was now one that she was sure would not have pleased either Miss Curtis – or Miss Robinson.

  The week seemed to drag, but at last Saturday arrived. As the store closed, Kathy was eager to get home to wash and to brush her hair, then hurry back to the hotel restaurant on the High Street to meet Tony. But Jemima walked her usual, steady pace and Kathy was forced to match her step.

  ‘And with whom are you going to the cinema tonight?’ asked Miss Robinson. Her grammar and her diction were always perfect. No trace of the Lincolnshire dialect that must once have been strong in her speech – like her brother’s still was – remained. Kathy wondered fleetingly if she had ever taken elocution lessons.

  ‘With – with a friend.’

  ‘A friend? And who might that be? I didn’t know you had any friends in the city.’

  Kathy ran her tongue around dry lips. This was getting to be like home. Questions, questions, questions! But she answered Jemima politely. She needed to stay here just a little while longer, although she vowed silently to start looking for a place of her own the very next week. As soon as she could afford it, she’d be out of here, she promised herself.

  ‘Stella.’

  ‘Stella Matthews?’

  Kathy nodded, regretting the deliberate lie immediately. She was normally a truthful girl. Chin high, she would stand up straight and tell the truth whatever that might be and however it might rebound on her. But this was different. She just couldn’t take the risk. Miss Robinson had the power not only to make her homeless but also to get her dismissed instantly from her employment. Mr Kendall might say he had made her position permanent, but he was not the only one with the power to dismiss her and – even if he overrode such a decision – life could, and would, be made very uncomfortable for her by those with whom she worked. Miss Curtis, for one.

  No, for once in her life, Kathy could not be truthful. But lying did not sit well with her. And now she would have to involve Stella in covering up for her too. She wondered if she could rely on the younger girl. Kathy swallowed and then opened her mouth to retract her statement and tell the truth. But the words remained frozen on her lips. Just this one time, she thought. I’ll see how it goes. If this is just a one off, then it won’t matter. But if he should ask me again, then . . . At this moment she didn’t know exactly what she would do if Mr Kendall should ask her to go out with him again. Her heart lurched with excitement at the mere thought.

  He was waiting outside the restaurant as they had arranged.

  ‘You look lovely,’ he smiled, tactfully making no remark that she was still wearing the suit that she wore every day for work.

  As they entered the restaurant, Kathy felt awkward and out of place among all the diners dressed in evening clothes, the men in black suits and the women in silks and satins. Heads turned as they were ushered to their table by the head waiter and Kathy blushed in embarrassment.

  When they were handed a menu each, Kathy was appalled to find that it was all written in French.

  Tony leaned across the small table. ‘Would you like me to order for you?’

  ‘Yes
, please,’ she breathed thankfully.

  ‘Is there anything you don’t like?’

  Kathy giggled nervously and shook her head. She’d never been asked such a question in the whole of her life. Choice had never been an option at home. She’d always had to eat whatever was put in front of her.

  When the waiter had taken their order and moved away, she blurted out, ‘I had to tell Miss Robinson a lie. I said I was going to the cinema with Stella.’

  Tony leaned his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. He smiled at her. ‘Well, don’t worry about a little white lie. Besides, is Miss Robinson your jailer? Do you have to tell her everywhere you go?’

  ‘She – she’s been very good to me. Taking me in and getting me the job . . .’

  ‘You got the job on your own account. I admit I interviewed you initially on her recommendation, but once I saw you – ’ his smile broadened – ‘I couldn’t resist you.’ He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘Now, tell me about yourself. I want to know all about you.’

  ‘There’s nothing much to tell. I’m just a country mouse come to town and it – it’s all very strange in the city.’

  ‘Are you enjoying your job?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ she said at once. ‘I still make mistakes and Miss Curtis is very strict . . .’

  Tony released her hand suddenly and sat back in his chair.

  Thinking she had made a serious mistake in criticizing her senior, she said hurriedly. ‘She’s very good at her job, isn’t she? I wish I could be like her one day. She’s very smart and beautifully – oh, what’s the word – groomed. That’s it.’

  When he still said nothing, she fell silent. She was babbling, but instead of covering her nervousness it only made her feel more foolish. She should have had the strength – and the sense – to refuse his invitation. She was out of her depth in such surroundings, ignorant of even the simplest rules of etiquette.

  Tony cleared his throat and said stiffly, ‘Miss Curtis is an excellent employee. She has been with us since leaving school.’ His tone was expressionless and he was using words that he might have done in a letter of reference. There was no warmth, no . . .