A Different Kind of Love

by Jean Saunders

  “I’m anxious about the young woman’s welfare,” the priest went on smoothly. “I understand she became friendly with someone while she was there, and it’s very important that I contact this person. Can you help, please?”

  There was a pause, then the priest spoke more sharply.

  “I assure you, young man, that as a priest I understand all about confidentiality, but this young woman could be in danger, and I would prefer not to inform the constables that you have withheld information.”

  Donal knew he could never have handled things so coolly, and that Brogan would have bellowed into the telephone and got nowhere – or simply frozen with fear at having to speak into the instrument.

  “I see. Thank you. You have been very helpful,” Father Mulheeny said a little while later, after scribbling down the information he was given on a writing pad. “I’m sure the matter can be easily cleared up now. Goodbye.”

  He put the telephone back on its receiver and looked at the two men carefully. He kept his distance from Brogan, not relishing another attack with what he had to report to them.

  “Well?” Brogan snapped. “What did they tell you, man?”

  Father Mulheeny reverted to his best saintly manner. “It seems that Kate spent much of her week’s holiday in the company of a gentleman by the name of Luke Halliday—”

  “What!” Brogan roared, until Donal restrained him.

  “If you want to know what happened, be quiet and listen, Dada,” he snapped.

  “I’m told that Mr Halliday is a much-respected guest at the Charlton Hotel,” the priest went on. “He is a photographer by profession, and he lives in London. He and Kate spent much of their time together, so if you’re convinced that London is where she’s gone, it would seem likely that this is the person she has gone to see.”

  He was painfully tactful, though he privately thought it highly unlikely that Kate’s flight to London to be with this man could be an innocent one. It was a thought that was clearly echoed in the faces of the two men sitting so tensely on his sofa now.

  “Give us the address, man,” Brogan snarled again.

  Father Mulheeny did so with a heavy heart.

  As he watched them leave and go marching back across the fields to report to Alice, he knew that if Kate had been his daughter, he would have felt exactly as these two were doing now, and raised heaven and earth to get her back home where she belonged.

  “I don’t believe it!” Alice, normally so unemotional, was almost beside herself at the news. “Our Kate’s not a bad girl, and she would never go chasing after a man she hardly knew!”

  “By all accounts she got to know him pretty well while she was in Bournemouth,” Donal said grimly.

  He still couldn’t rid himself of the thought that if he hadn’t brought Radcliffe here and opened his sister’s eyes to the romantic world the bastard had evidently shown her, then she wouldn’t have sought so desperately to prove to herself that she was still attractive, and perhaps found solace in the arms of this other man. Donal cursed his wild imagination which took him off into realms where he never wanted to be.

  “What are you going to do about it?” Alice said, white-faced. “You’ll not bring the police into it and shame us all, will you?”

  “No, we won’t do that, woman. It would shame our Kate as well, and until we see what’s what, we’ll give her the benefit of the doubt,” Donal said, ignoring the way his mother flinched at the implications. “We’ll go to London to find this man and see what he wants with our Kate.”

  “Both of you?”

  “Aye, both of us,” Brogan growled. “Now, for God’s sake, let’s have some food. All this arguing has given me a pain in me belly fit to rot me guts. And then we’d best check on the pot money to make sure there’s enough for the train fares and a night or two’s lodging. And you make sure there’s some clean underwear for us, missus.”

  They all knew that the grumbling and gabbling was his way of covering an emotional situation none of them wanted to think about too deeply, but which was the only thing on all of their minds.

  Maura and Aileen were canny enough to know that something was wrong. But it had been decided they would simply be told that Kate had gone away to stay with some distant relatives for a while, and that the men were going to see that all was well, but they left the telling to Alice. Neither Brogan nor Donal had the stomach for it, nor for the wailing they knew would come from the girls.

  Donal paid a second visit to the priest late that afternoon, and got him to telephone for the times of the trains to London at the end of the week. A few days’ solid casual work was needed to put sufficient money in their pockets for their needs, and Father Mulheeny grudgingly agreed to take them to Temple Meads for the morning train on Friday.

  “You’d best go and see that Vi Parsons that Kate works with, to tell her Kate won’t be coming in for the week,” Brogan told his son. He was becoming more resentful by the minute at the situation she’d left behind for them to sort out, easily overlooking the fact that Donal was doing most of it and refusing absolutely to think there would be any problem in bringing Kate home.

  “And will I tell Vi where she’s gone?”

  “No. Give her the same story, that she’s gone to stay with relatives for the time being. The less folk who know our business, the better.”

  “They’ll not keep her job open for her indefinitely.”

  “It don’t sound as though she wants it, does it? Nor any of us no more,” he added bitterly. “I always thought that by going to Bournemouth alone she was getting above herself, and this is the outcome.”

  “Just be thankful she didn’t go with Walter Radcliffe,” Donal retorted. “I’ll go and see this Vi woman tomorrow. I’ve had enough for one day.”

  On Sunday morning Vi opened her cottage door and was surprised to see Donal Sullivan standing there. Kate’s tall brother was quite a catch as far as looks and brawn went, and if Vi didn’t already have a man of her own … Thankfully, her Bert was out trapping rabbits, so she asked Donal into her untidy parlour and wished she’d thought about cleaning up.

  But it was too late for that now. She cleared a space on a chair by booting a squealing cat out of the way, so he could sit down. He remained standing anyway, his arms folded uncomfortably, as he tried not to breathe in the stale smell of last night’s supper.

  “Is summat up with Kate?” she said at once, knowing there couldn’t be any other reason that brought him here.

  “Nothing’s up with her, but she won’t be coming to work on Monday,” he said abruptly.

  “It’s that bastard, Jenkins, ain’t it?” Vi said without thinking. “I knew he’d had a go at her. His sort always goes for the shaky ones.”

  “What do you mean?” Donal said sharply.

  Vi kept her eyes guarded. It was a sure bet that none of Kate’s family knew about Kate being put in the pudding club by her fancy travelling man, nor that she’d lost the baby. Only Vi knew that. Common she might be, but women’s secrets weren’t for the telling. Though she could tell a thing or two about oily Jenkins if she had the mind to do so, but she decided to play it cautiously. After all, she needed the work, and the bastard knew better than to try anything on with her.

  “Well, we all know Kate’s nerves were on edge and – this is only guesswork, mind you – but old Jenkins was probably offering her extra evening work and a bit of comfort besides, if you get my meaning. But Kate would never have agreed to any of his smutty nonsense, so good luck to her for keeping away from his wandering hands for a while.”

  “She’s keeping out of his way for good,” Donal snapped. “You can tell him she won’t be coming back to Granby’s, ever.”

  Vi’s eyes widened, but before she could ask anything more, Donal had turned on his heel, wrenching open the door of the cottage and breathing fresh air again as he strode back across the fields.

  It got worse, he thought savagely. Just when you thought you knew all there was to know, something else cro
pped up. Being harrassed by that bastard of a supervisor at the sweatshop was probably just enough to tip Kate over the edge.

  He was tempted to go and find him and tear him limb from limb, but much good that would do. He’d end up in the cells for a couple of nights, and he needed his wits about him for the journey to London. He’d had the dubious experience of travelling in France during the war to sharpen his knowledge of wider horizons than a small Somerset village, but he knew his father would be getting more apprehensive by the minute.

  London was as far out of Brogan Sullivan’s environment as the moon, and when he was nervy he hid it with aggression. It didn’t bode well for the confrontation with Kate and this Halliday chap. Donal prayed that he could quieten his father down a little before all hell broke loose.

  “What do you say to coming to the studio for a few days next week and letting me take some preliminary shots?” Luke asked, far more casually than he felt. His fingers were just itching to click the shutter on his camera and capture that lovely smile for all eternity.

  They had finished eating Mrs Wood’s gargantuan Sunday meal and were recovering in the sitting room with cups of steaming tea. Mrs Wood was doing the washing-up, refusing to let anyone enter her kitchen while she did so. Doris and Faye had gone man-hunting as usual, and Thomas Lord Tannersley was sleeping it off upstairs. Even from here, they could hear him snoring, loud enough to waken the dead.

  “I can’t,” Kate said flatly.

  “Why can’t you? What’s stopping you?”

  “The need to find work is stopping me,” Kate said. “I haven’t come to London to be a sponger, Luke, and I’m already embarrassed that you’ve settled my account with Mrs Wood for a month. I want to pay you back as soon as I can.”

  He put his fingers over her mouth for a moment.

  “It doesn’t embarrass me in the least, and believe me, it’s a drop in the ocean.”

  “Well, it’s not to me,” she said crossly, pushing his hand away. “And I don’t intend to be beholden to anyone, thank you very much.”

  “What an old-fashioned sweetheart you are,” Luke said. “I can’t imagine Doris or Faye turning down the chance of free lodgings for a month.”

  “Well, I’m not Doris or Faye, am I!”

  She wasn’t smart or glamorous, and she didn’t know city ways, but she knew enough not to let a man take advantage of her – not for a second time, anyway.

  “The jobs won’t disappear in the next couple of days, Kate. But you should give yourself a little time to get acclimatised to London first, and I really would like you to sit for me. I’m offering you a job, if you’ll only see it and, of course, I’ll pay you.”

  As she opened her mouth to speak again, he went on, “Or we can just take your fee from what you owe me for the rent here. We’ll draw up a proper contract, and I’ll pay you the going rate for a week’s work. You can even offer my booked clients a cup of tea if it eases your irritating conscience, and be my temporary assistant for the week. How does that sound?”

  “Is there a going rate?” Kate asked, oblivious to anything else he said.

  “Of course,” he said, inventing figures in his head.

  “All right. I’ll do it.” Kate felt her heart beat faster, and thought she must truly be a country hick to feel that this job was so daring. Sometimes she wondered why he bothered about her at all, when he could have his pick of so many glamorous and sophisticated women.

  Luke suggested she brought a selection of garments with her to the studio, especially the stunningly shimmery frock he had first seen her in. He couldn’t forget his first sight of her when she had entered the dining room of the Charlton Hotel like a beautiful, golden vision. She had looked so anxious, as if she was ready to take flight if anyone so much as looked at her. Luke Halliday had looked and fallen in love. He no longer bothered to deny it to himself. He was simply mad about the girl. Whatever had become of the errant Radcliffe husband, he was the loser.

  Kate was still uneasy. “You know I’m new to this, Luke, and I’ll be stiff and awkward.”

  “No, you won’t, because you’ll be with me, and I’ll lead you all the way,” Luke said with admirable restraint, when what he really longed to do was to pull her into his arms and hold her close and chase all the fears away.

  Dear God, he was getting far too sentimental for his own good, he thought in alarm.

  “And you won’t want me to do any sort of –” she paused, unable to say the words

  “Nude posing?” Luke said brutally. “Is that what you’re afraid of, Kate?”

  She flinched. “I don’t know. I’ve heard of such things. Vi – the woman I used to work with – said her husband had a magazine with some very – well – rude – poses in them. I couldn’t do anything like that, Luke.”

  “I could say that you’re insulting me for thinking I’d suggest such a thing, but I can see you’re really disturbed about it, so let me assure you that nothing of the kind has ever occurred in my studio, nor ever will. Satisfied?”

  She looked into his honest eyes and was ashamed of her suspicions. She nodded.

  Luke thought that there was nothing he would like more than to hold her naked body, not for the camera’s benefit, but for himself, for the need to possess her for ever. He smothered his healthy male urges and held her gently, pressing his lips to her cheek in a chaste kiss.

  Chapter Nine

  Luke was prepared to take things slowly. He had a number of clients booked for sittings in the middle of the week, but Monday was free and the end of the week was also clear. What he wanted was to get Kate immersed in the ambience of the studio, be introduced to the clients and help him put them at their ease, and then to share in the excitement of seeing the finished photographs come to life in the darkroom.

  More than anything, he wanted Kate to be a part of his life, and to forget all about this idea of working in a sweatshop. He still wasn’t convinced that it was her real background. In many ways she remained his mystery woman, and while the thought was an intriguing one, his greatest desire was to solve the mystery, and chase away the occasional clouded look that shadowed her lovely eyes.

  “You’re staring at me,” Kate murmured on Monday morning.

  He had collected her from Jubilee Terrace and driven her to the studio. Now she was seated on the pale green sofa surrounded by photographic equipment. She felt frankly terrified of looking into the soulless eye of the camera.

  “I’m trying to decide how to sit you,” he said, putting on his professional voice.

  “I thought I was already sitting,” Kate said pertly, to cover the fact that she didn’t know what to do with her hands.

  To tell the truth, she felt pretty daft to be what Vi would call tarted up on a Monday morning, even though she wasn’t wearing her best frock yet, since Luke wisely suggested she kept that for the end of the week when she was more used to posing. He had every intention of making those the most spectacular photographs.

  “Kate, relax,” he said softly. “Lean back against the sofa, drop your shoulders and let your hands rest together on your lap. Doesn’t that feel better already?”

  She had to admit that it did, and whatever confidence she had, came from knowing that she looked good. The frock she wore was a pale beige colour, low-waisted and loosely pleated over her bust. It wasn’t her favourite, but it was one that she felt comfortable in. She wore several long strings of amber beads and a plain bangle on her arm, since she didn’t want to look too ostentatious.

  Last night she had washed her hair and it hung straight and gleaming under the lights. She had applied the merest touch of carmine to her lips, and her cheeks were flushed enough with nerves not to need any artificial help.

  Kate could see how important all this was to Luke. He wasn’t doing this entirely just out of the goodness of his heart. He saw her now, not as a person, but as an aid to his professional abilities, and she wouldn’t let him down. Her chin lifted and, as it did so, the fall of her golden hair cares
sed her shoulders. Without being aware of the subtle change in her attitude, she visibly relaxed, and her eyes become warm and lustrous instead of being strained and anxious.

  “That’s perfect,” Luke said softly. “Hold that thought, sweetheart, whatever it is.”

  Her mouth parted in a small smile, and she blinked as the flashbulb went off. For a few moments all she could see were bright circles of light wherever she looked.

  But as long as she forgot the glassy eye of the camera and thought of something pleasant as Luke suggested, it wasn’t so bad. Luke instructed her to look slightly above or at the side of the lens occasionally and then the flash wasn’t directly in her eyes.

  It wasn’t always easy to stay relaxed, though. Luke knew what he wanted from her, and as he took photograph after photograph, sometimes tension got the better of her, then she felt the irritating little nervous twitch at the corner of her mouth. But finally he decided they had done enough for one day, and Kate’s relief was mingled with a growing excitement knowing she was about to see herself portrayed in celluloid for the very first time.

  Some hours later she stared silently down at the woman in the photographs. A softly beautiful woman who looked sometimes remote, sometimes sensual and provocative, especially when those brilliant eyes looked directly into the camera. She had seen herself in a mirror many times in her life, but this was the first time she was seeing herself as others must see her, and it was an embarrassment as well as stirring an undeniable feeling of pleasure inside her.

  “I don’t really look like this, do I?” she asked.

  “Of course you do. The camera never lies,” said Luke.

  “But I’m so – so—”

  “Beautiful?” he finished for her.

  Kate felt herself flush. “I would never say that about myself! It’s far too vain!”

  “Then let me say it for you. You’re very beautiful, Miss Sullivan.”

  She drew in her breath, for there was no disguising the look in his eyes now. It was a look she had seen before, in Walter Radcliffe’s eyes. It had scared her then as much as it did now, or perhaps even more, having once responded to it with all the warm sexuality she hadn’t even known was in her nature.