Sing As We Go

by Margaret Dickinson

Tony hugged her to him and kissed her firmly on the mouth, murmuring, ‘You silly goose. You’re all I want. Besides, what would I do with a farm? I hardly know which end of a cow the milk comes out of.’

  Kathy giggled. ‘It comes out in the middle. Well, sort of.’

  ‘There you are then? What do I know?’

  ‘Miss Curtis, could I have a word with you, please?’ It was the moment Kathy had been dreading all day, yet it was something she had decided that she must do herself. She should be the one to tell Muriel.

  ‘Of course . . .’ Muriel glanced at her watch. ‘We close in five minutes. We’ll talk then.’ She smiled at Kathy’s worried face. ‘I do hope you’re not going to leave us to join up. You’ve proved yourself to be an excellent sales assistant. I wouldn’t want to lose you.’

  Kathy smiled thinly but said nothing.

  When all the other staff had left the floor, Muriel said, ‘Now, what is it?’

  Kathy took a deep breath. ‘I wanted to tell you myself, I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else. Tony and I are getting married on the seventeenth. You probably know he’s been called up and – and we want to be married before he goes.’

  For a moment Muriel stared at her, then tears welled in her eyes.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I know it must hurt you.’ Kathy was crying too.

  Muriel shook her head. ‘I’m being silly. It would never have worked for us. I know that. I – I just want him to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. So, I wish you joy. Really I do, Kathy. But – please – make him happy. That’s all I ask. Make him happy.’

  Impulsively, Kathy hugged her. ‘You’re such a good, generous person. You will come to the wedding, won’t you?’

  ‘No – don’t be offended, but no, I won’t come.’ She smiled tremulously through her tears. ‘That would be asking a bit much, don’t you think?’

  Kathy nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘But I wish you well – both of you. Truly I do. Now,’ Muriel went on, gently easing herself from Kathy’s arms. ‘Have you got everything you need for the big day? If we can help you, we will.’

  ‘Aunt Jemima – I mean, Miss Robinson – told me to wait for her here and she’d help me look out a wedding dress. She’ll have spoken to the head of the department by now.’

  Muriel brushed away the last of her tears and smiled bravely. ‘May I help? I used to work in that department until they made me head of millinery. There are rumours that eventually we’ll have clothes coupons too, so make the most of it and get everything you need. We can put it on account for you.’

  Tactfully, Kathy didn’t remark: That’s what Tony said. Instead she said tentatively, ‘If – if you’re sure, then, yes, that would be lovely. I’d value your opinion.’

  The three women spent the next two hours happily. Even Muriel buried her own thoughts and threw herself into helping Kathy choose her wedding finery, never tiring of carrying gown after gown for Kathy to try on.

  ‘It’s such a pity you haven’t time to have one made, but the workroom is so busy just now. Now, try this one, Kathy. It’s last year’s model, but it really is pretty.’

  Carefully she helped Kathy ease the gown over her head, while Jemima stood, her head on one side, appraising each one.

  The silk gown had a fitted bodice, buttoning down the back, long sleeves and a full skirt and train with scalloped-edge pleats. A long veil, reaching to the ground, completed the ensemble.

  ‘That’s the one,’ Jemima nodded, firmly. ‘You look a picture, dear.’

  By the time the three women left the store, Kathy had not only a wedding dress and veil, but shoes and silky white underwear too.

  ‘I’ve had a letter from Auntie Betty. Uncle Ted’s said he’d be delighted to give me away and they’re all coming to the wedding. Even – even Morry.’

  ‘I should hope so too,’ Jemima answered with asperity. ‘I should think a lot less of him if he stayed away out of pique.’

  Kathy smiled. She guessed that wasn’t strictly true, but she understood what Jemima meant. Her smile widened as she added, ‘And guess what? They’re bringing my mother.’

  ‘My dear, I am so pleased for you.’

  ‘I can hardly believe it. She’s really dared to stand up to my father.’ Kathy’s eyes clouded. ‘I – I just hope he won’t take it out on her afterwards.’

  ‘Don’t you worry your pretty head about that. Ted and Betty will keep an eye on her. You just enjoy your big day. It’s what she would want.’

  ‘I know, and it’ll mean the world to me to have her there. I just wish . . .’ Kathy began and then stopped.

  ‘That your father would come too,’ Jemima said softly, but Kathy shook her head.

  ‘No, actually, it was Tony’s mother I was thinking about. I wish she would change her mind and come to the wedding. I know it would make Tony’s day if she did.’

  ‘His father will come though, won’t he?’

  Kathy grimaced and shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I expect she’ll try to stop him. And she’ll probably succeed.’

  ‘Oh well,’ Jemima said kindly, but without much real hope. ‘Maybe George will manage to persuade her to come.’

  ‘I do hope so,’ Kathy said fervently.

  Jemima glanced at her, but said nothing. It wouldn’t do to say so, the older woman was thinking, but it might be a lot better if Beatrice Kendall did stay away from the wedding.

  The following Sunday morning, Kathy walked across the city carrying two shopping bags containing everything she needed to cook a Sunday roast lunch for the Kendalls. She’d had to queue for all the things she needed and now, with the rumours that meat was going on ration at the beginning of March, that too was getting scarce. But she’d managed to get a piece of mutton.

  She knew that George wasn’t finishing his night shift until eight o’clock or even later, and she knew the poor man would be weary. The last thing he needed was to have to come home and start cooking. As she trudged up the slope of the hill on which their house stood, she saw him ahead of her, pushing his bicycle through the gate.

  ‘Mr Kendall,’ she called.

  As he looked up and saw her, his face break into a welcoming smile. Well, Kathy thought, there was no mistaking that he, at least, approved of her.

  ‘Hello, lass, what are you doing here?’ He chuckled. ‘I’d’ve thought you’d be busy sorting out your trousseau.’

  Kathy laughed. ‘It’s all sorted, Mr Kendall. Such as it is.’

  ‘You’ll look a smasher whatever you wear, love,’ he said gallantly.

  ‘Now I can see who your son takes after. Flattery will get you everywhere. At least, a Sunday dinner,’ she teased.

  ‘A Sunday dinner?’ He eyed the bags she was carrying. ‘You don’t mean you’ve come all this way just to cook us a dinner, lass, do you?’

  ‘I certainly have. I thought you could do with a little help, seeing as you’re on nights. And Tony tells me the extent of his culinary skills is boiling an egg.’

  George laughed. ‘That’s about the size of it, lass. Well, this is a nice surprise. You must have known it’s my birthday. Did you?’

  Kathy’s eyes widened. ‘No. Is it?’

  ‘Actually, it was yesterday, but no one remembered ’cept me.’

  Kathy was shocked. ‘Not even Tony?’

  George shrugged. ‘He’s a lot on his mind. Not only the wedding, of course, but his mother’s taken the news very badly, lass, I’m sorry to say. She had a nasty turn yesterday. Tony was called home from work. Did you know?’

  ‘I guessed as much when he sent a message that he couldn’t see me last night. That’s partly why I’ve come today. I thought – I thought if your wife realized I’m not trying to take him away from her, that I – I’d like to be thought of as one of the family, then . . .’ Her voice trailed away.

  ‘You’re already one of the family as far as I’m concerned.’ He sighed. ‘But I don’t mind telling you, love, you’ve got a battle on your hands before Be
atty will see it that way.’

  ‘But while Tony’s away, I thought – well – I thought I could be company for her. For both of you. I could help out – if you’d let me.’

  ‘Oh, I’d let you, lass, no doubt about that. And you’d be a daughter to me. Always wanted a daughter, I did,’ he murmured dreamily.

  I wish you’d tell my dad that, Kathy thought.

  He shook himself out of his reverie. ‘Let’s get inside and you can get cracking. My word, I’m looking forward to this. Tony’ll be that pleased to see you.’

  Will he? Kathy wondered, but she did not voice her doubts.

  Tony was surprised to see her there and a little on edge. ‘Look, it’s good of you to come, but do you mind staying in the kitchen? That way Mother won’t know you’re here.’

  ‘You mean if she knows I’ve cooked the dinner, she won’t eat it?’

  Tony shrugged. ‘Probably not. We’ll not tell her.’

  ‘I’ll do whatever you want me to do, darling. Besides, I’ll need to be in the kitchen most of the time anyway. We’ll eat in here, if you like.’

  ‘We usually do,’ George said as he washed his hands at the deep sink in the scullery. ‘Now, lass, is there anything I can do?’

  ‘No, you go upstairs and have a rest. Tony will call you when dinner’s ready. You go back to your mother, Tony, but if you don’t want her to realize I’m here you’d better keep popping out to see when it’s all ready.’

  ‘Right you are and – thanks.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said, deliberately keeping her tone light. But it wasn’t really okay. It was anything but. It was a ridiculous situation and she couldn’t see how it was ever going to be resolved.

  Twenty-Two

  As they were finishing dinner, the little bell that Beatrice kept close at hand tinkled and Tony went rushing through to see what she wanted. He came back carrying the tray with an empty plate on it. As he set it down on the table, he laughed. ‘Mother says your cooking’s improving, Dad.’

  George chuckled and winked at Kathy. ‘You’ve done it now, lass. You’ll have to come again.’

  ‘Any time. I’ve enjoyed doing it for you.’

  ‘It was a real treat, I don’t mind telling you. And now I insist you let me and Tony do the washing up.’

  ‘No, no. Tony, you go back and sit with your mother. And you – ’ she wagged her finger at her future father-in-law – ‘should go back upstairs and sleep.’

  ‘I will when I’ve helped you. You wash, I’ll dry,’ he said, picking up a tea towel. ‘And I won’t take “no” for an answer.’

  Kathy laughed and capitulated. As they worked together, Kathy asked tentatively, ‘How long has Mrs Kendall been an invalid?’

  George sighed. ‘It’s a long story, love. I don’t know if you’d be interested.’

  ‘Of course I’m interested. And not just about Tony either.’ She had grown very fond of George Kendall. He was such a kind, gentle man, but she couldn’t for the life of her see how he had become entangled with someone like Beatrice, let alone married her!

  He sighed, and his round, pleasant face fell into lines of weariness and disappointment as he chose his words carefully. ‘It seems such a long time ago now,’ he murmured. He forced a smile as he began, ‘Once upon a time . . .’

  Kathy smiled too, knowing that he was trying to lighten a story that perhaps had little happiness or joy in the telling.

  ‘I belonged – ’ now he sighed heavily again – ‘to a reasonably wealthy family. My grandfather – my father’s father, that is – was a farmer at Wellingore. We lived in a very nice house on the edge of the hill there overlooking all his lands. They were good days. I had an idyllic childhood. Although we never lost our broad dialect . . .’ His smile widened and Kathy knew he was not apologizing. He was proud of his birthright.

  ‘Quite right too,’ she said stoutly. There were traces of it in her own speech, a trait she had no intention of trying to eradicate.

  ‘I think you could say we were classed as “country gentlemen”. My father held shooting parties on his land and mixed with the businessmen and dignitaries of the city.’

  His eyes clouded with painful memories. ‘And then came the depression. A lot of people went bankrupt. My father among them. He had to sell up, and on the day of the sale, when strangers where tramping through the house, poking and prodding into personal belongings, he took his twelve-bore shotgun and went into a little copse at the end of the meadow. It was where he and I had spent our happiest times. When I was little, he’d play hide and seek or cowboys and Indians. My dad could be great fun. But that all ended in the little copse.’

  ‘You mean – he – he—’

  George nodded and said flatly, ‘He shot himself. My mother never got over the shock. She died only six months later. And Beatty, of course, well, she’s never got over the shame.’

  ‘Poor man,’ Kathy murmured. ‘I know how hard it was then. I was only ten or so, but I’ve heard my father and Ted Robinson talk about those times.’ She was pensive for a moment, realizing, perhaps for the first time, just how hard her father had worked to save his own family’s farm. But surely, she reasoned, even if he’d been through some hard times, there was no reason why he’d become so embittered.

  There was a long silence before Kathy asked tentatively, ‘So – when you married Beatrice your folks were – ’ she smiled – ‘well breeched?’

  George gave a wry laugh. ‘You could say that. It was through her uncle I met her. Have you seen the old boy yet?’

  ‘Only once. His son brought him through the store in a wheelchair.’

  ‘Aye well, he’ll be getting on a bit now. He must be nearly ninety.’

  ‘He still looked bright as a button,’ Kathy laughed. ‘I overheard him finding fault with a display. “See to it, boy,” he said. He called Mr James “boy”.’ She was giggling now at the memory.

  Despite the gravity of their conversation, even George chuckled. ‘Aye, he was always the success of that family, old Anthony.’

  ‘I presume Tony’s named after him?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ George smiled wryly. ‘Beatty always had her eye on the main chance, though where she got her social-climbing ideas from, goodness knows. Her parents were lovely folk. Oh dear – ’ he grimaced comically – ‘that sounds terribly disloyal to my wife, doesn’t it?’

  Kathy whispered, ‘There’s only you and me here and you can trust me.’

  His dark eyes, so like Tony’s, looked deeply into her. His voice was a little unsteady as he said, ‘Aye, I know that, lass. I know that.’ He paused and then went on with his story. ‘Her uncle – the old boy – used to come shooting on our land. James too, when he was old enough. And because Anthony had no daughter of his own – James was his only child – he used to make a big fuss of Beatty. Perhaps that’s how she got a taste for the luxurious life. Her own father, John Charlesworth, was just a good, honest working man but he wasn’t a high flyer like his brother-in-law. It was always said Anthony had the Midas touch. He started as a market trader on Lincoln market, would you believe? And look at him now. Must be worth thousands. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not a millionaire.’

  ‘And you fell in love with Beatrice?’

  George sighed again. ‘I suppose I must have done.’ It seemed he was having difficulty in believing it himself. So much had happened since then to kill any love he’d had for the resentful, bitter woman that he could hardly remember the golden days of their youth. ‘Oh, that sounds awful,’ he groaned. ‘But you wouldn’t recognize the girl she was then in the woman you see now.’

  ‘But what’s made her like she is? Is it just because of what happened in your family?’

  ‘I suppose so. Unless it’s because I’m so – so boring and – and ordinary. I think she despises me.’

  ‘She’s no right to do that,’ Kathy declared hotly. ‘You’re a lovely man.’

  He smiled sadly. ‘You’re a dear girl to say so.’

&nb
sp; ‘It’s true. She should’ve supported you when your family hit such a terrible time. Not – not turned against you and blamed you.’

  ‘She thought she was marrying into a well-to-do family. Folks with land and property and a prosperous future. She didn’t know it was all going to disappear. Nor did any of us. I have to say her uncle’s been good to us. Still is. He, and James too, have given Tony a marvellous opportunity. But even then Beatrice is still resentful, seeing it as a right rather than a privilege. I sometimes wonder, though, if he’s really up to the job. If he’s just there because of who his relatives are.’

  Kathy tried to be objective. ‘I don’t think so. Everyone thinks very well of Tony, at least—’ she hesitated.

  ‘What? Tell me, lass.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Since we’re being honest with each other.’

  Kathy lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture. ‘It was just that he was known as rather a “ladies’ man”. He had a reputation for having several girlfriends and – and, well – not treating them very well.’

  George nodded. ‘I guessed as much.’

  ‘You – you knew about the flat?’

  ‘I guessed. When he didn’t come home some nights, I guessed he must be staying somewhere. For some time I though it was at a friend’s house or at a girlfriend’s. But when he never brought any of them home, I guessed he must have a little place of his own somewhere.’

  ‘But he brought Muriel Curtis home, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes. She was the first.’ He was quiet for a moment before murmuring, ‘In fact, the only serious one before you. Poor Muriel. She was a nice lass. I never really knew what happened and to be honest, I don’t think Tony did either. He was quite cut up when she broke off their engagement without giving any real explanation.’ He held Kathy’s gaze steadily. ‘I always thought Beatty had something to do with it, but I don’t know what.’

  Kathy couldn’t prevent the colour rising in her face.

  ‘But you know, don’t you?’ he added softly.

  She couldn’t lie to him. Slowly, she nodded. ‘Yes, I do know, but I was told in confidence and I can’t betray that person’s trust.’ Already she’d tested Jemima’s belief in her, and she would never again lie to the woman who had befriended her or break her confidence. ‘The only thing I will tell you is that, yes, you’re right. Your wife did interfere.’