A Daughter's Choice

by June Francis

  ‘Not when I’m running the place,’ said Katie firmly. ‘I don’t get you. Don’t you want to take over your parents’ hotel in Ireland?’

  ‘No, there’s more life here. So I’m staying, whether you like it or not,’ Eileen said confidently, and waltzed out, carrying a tray, as Kitty entered.

  ‘Something’s burning.’

  Katie moved swiftly. ‘This toaster’s on its last legs,’ she said.

  ‘It’ll last a bit longer. All you’ve got to do is remember to keep your eye on it,’ said Kitty. ‘What’s that you’ve got in your hand?’

  ‘It’s for you from Jack. Probably wants to know when you’re going up there for a holiday.’

  Kitty smiled. ‘Probably. His heart’s definitely in the Highlands, just like Pops, because he doesn’t come home often.’

  ‘Oh, Ma! You say that every year at this time. But Pops is half-English. It’s only because he’s got the house up there that he keeps returning.’

  ‘That’s all you know about it,’ said Kitty. ‘He was brought up there from when he was seven and lived there until he joined the Medical Corps and went to war. He loves walking the hills, just like Jack.’

  ‘OK, OK! I’m not looking to hear all about the old days.’

  Katie picked up a toast rack and carried it into the dining room. She exchanged a few words about the weather with a singer who was appearing at the Empire but did not linger long because there was other work to do, and besides she wanted to see what Joan had to say.

  Katie slit the envelope and saw two pages of beautifully written copperplate handwriting. She looked at the signature and read ‘Celia Mcdonald’. Surprised, she turned to the first page and began to read. By the time she reached the end of the letter she had gone from hot to cold to hot again, and had to grip the table to steady herself. There must be some mistake. The woman was demented. It couldn’t possibly be true. She was trying to get back at them because Kitty had chased her the other day – which wasn’t surprising if this letter was the kind of rubbish the woman usually spouted. She ripped the letter up and placed the scraps in her pocket, returning to the kitchen to get on with her work.

  But the contents of Celia’s letter were not so easy to dismiss and as Katie was about to empty the torn scraps of paper into the wastepaper bin, the words ‘Kitty Mcleod snatched you away from me. I’d no sooner given birth than she wanted you. I was weak and let her take you’ burnt into her brain. Katie shivered, feeling cold and drained of all energy. It couldn’t be true! Ma would never steal or lie to her. The woman was just trying to poison her mind to get revenge on Ma for making her leave the hotel. She repeated that to herself and felt a little better.

  Next Katie had the job of seeing to the post and got on with answering requests for accommodation, but even as she hammered out words on the old Underwood typewriter more of the letter forced itself into her consciousness. ‘You’re my baby. You’re beautiful and I’m so sorry I didn’t stand up to her but she was so strong and I’d had TB and my nerves were weak.’ Katie remembered Rita saying to Ben that Celia’s nerves were weak. It made her feel a little better. There was definitely something wrong with the woman.

  She finished her typing and then went out to post the letters. More words hit her as she was coming up the Mount and this time she felt so angry she ran the rest of the way to the Arcadia. It’s impossible! That sad, drab woman couldn’t possibly be my mother. I don’t look the least bit like her! She entered the hotel in a rush and collided with Kitty.

  ‘Careful,’ she said, steadying her with a smile. ‘What’s the rush?’

  For a breathcatching moment Katie was on the verge of telling her about Celia’s letter. Ma would reassure her and they would laugh about it. No, not laugh because it wasn’t the least bit funny. But just at that moment one of the guests came out of the Smoking Room and said something to Kitty about the summer sales and the two women began to talk bargains. Katie went into the kitchen and found Eileen making soda bread.

  The girl glanced up and said, ‘You’re all rosy. Did something exciting come in the post for you?’

  The flush died on Katie’s cheeks, leaving her deathly pale. ‘Have you been looking in the wastepaper bin?’

  Eileen’s eyebrows drew together. ‘Is that where you’d put a letter from that Patrick? Sensible girl! You do surprise me.’

  ‘P-Patrick!’ she stammered. Her fear ebbed and she laughed. ‘No, I haven’t had a letter from him. More’s the pity. But if he calls again, I’ll make sure I get to speak to him and I’ll tell Ma he’s no ted. Now, have you started the soup?’

  ‘No,’ said Eileen, looking grumpy. ‘I was waiting for you to come in with fresh carrots and leeks, but you’ve a head like a sieve because where are they?’

  ‘Like you said, I’ve a head like a sieve,’ she said, trying to sound cheerful, and went straight out again.

  For the rest of the day Katie was good for nothing. As much as she tried to forget Celia’s letter, words kept popping into her head along with snippets of things people had said, such as her having been born in the autumn of her parents’ lives and Celia’s having been at the Arcadia during the May blitz. Could Ben know something about this? He had clammed up the other day and said she’d have to find things out from Celia. She felt cold all over again but convinced herself that he would never have kept such a secret from her. Even so she often found herself stopping and staring into space as she went about her work.

  ‘What’s got into you today?’ said Kitty more than once.

  ‘She imagines herself in love on one sighting,’ said Eileen, rolling her eyes.

  Katie forced a smile and did not deny Eileen’s words but instead looked at Kitty and thought, You are old enough to be my grandmother. Her blood ran cold again. She did not want to think like that but could not help it. She hated the thought that Kitty wasn’t her mother and Pops her father, that her brothers weren’t even her half-brothers. Celia meant nothing to her and this family meant so much.

  Katie could not sleep that night but lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. I know hardly anything about the woman so how can she be my mother? ‘I would like to meet you again but away from the hotel,’ Celia had written. Strange how she could remember so much of that letter. ‘In Liverpool, if you like? Cooper’s Cafe in Church Street next Tuesday at twelve. Please come.’ The last two words repeated themselves. ‘Please come – please come – please come!’ She turned on to her stomach and pulled the pillow over her head, pressing her cheek against the cool white sheet. Sad, drab – mad perhaps? She needed to know if Celia was the latter of those three things and could only do that by keeping that appointment. Having made that decision, Katie determined to pull herself together and try to act normally until then.

  On Monday, in order to avoid questions, Katie told Kitty she had an appointment with the dentist on the Tuesday. ‘Do you want me to come with you, love?’ said Kitty. ‘I know how horrible it is going there.’

  ‘No!’ Katie could not conceal her alarm. ‘I’m a big girl now, Ma.’ She marvelled not for the first time at her own acting ability. She was as miserable as sin but felt sure no one could guess just how low she felt.

  At a quarter to twelve on the appointed day, Katie left the Arcadia carrying her umbrella and wishing God could at least have made the sun shine. The rain seemed an omen and her mind was full of speculation on how her life might change if Celia proved to be telling the truth. As she passed Woolworth’s and C & A Modes, with its display of summer fashions in floral cotton satin and rayon duster coats, her heart was thumping. Already she could smell the ground coffee for which Cooper’s was famous and see a woman waiting in front of the store in a bright red mackintosh. Not so drab after all.

  ‘You came!’ Celia’s voice was breathless and she clasped her hands to her chest and stared at Katie. ‘I’ve been having palpitations thinking you weren’t going to come. I thought maybe she’d keep you away.’

  ‘If you mean Ma by “she”,’ sai
d Katie in unfriendly tones, ‘I didn’t tell her I was meeting you. In fact, I haven’t even told her about your letter.’

  Celia’s face fell. ‘Why? Don’t you believe me?’

  Katie hesitated. ‘I don’t know what to believe. Shall we go in? I’m hungry.’ She was not but felt a need to appear in control. Besides, her umbrella was dripping rain down her neck, compounding the misery and anger she felt as she gazed into the pale middle-aged face with its smattering of freckles.

  ‘That’s fine by me,’ said Celia, hurriedly opening the door for Katie as the girl folded her umbrella. ‘I don’t know if I’ll be able to eat a thing. You can’t imagine what it took for me to pluck up courage to write to you! Seventeen years keeping a secret is a long time.’

  ‘Why keep it then? If I had a daughter, I’d want to know her,’ said Katie in a hard voice as she headed for the stairs which led to the first floor.

  ‘That’s easy for you to say,’ said Celia, scurrying to keep up with her. ‘There was a war on and I wasn’t married and I’d been ill.’

  Katie’s heart sank. Of course she wasn’t married! Stupid of me not to think of that. If Celia is my mother that makes me il–illegit – Oh, God! I don’t even want to think the word! ‘Don’t say any more,’ she said roughly. ‘Let’s get sitting down first.’

  ‘That’s fine by me.’ Celia smiled. ‘You really have got a nice face. You’re much prettier than me, more like your –’ She paused. ‘At least you’ve got my eyes.’

  Katie stopped and stared at her, and yes, Celia’s eyes were a clear beautiful grey with her own hint of mauve and dark circle around them. She forced out the words: ‘Lots of people have grey eyes.’

  ‘None of the Ryans or Mcleods do, brown or blue only. I worked at the Arcadia long enough to know the colour of all their eyes. And did you know John is my godfather? He and my dad were in the Great War together. He’s a good man and I can only think she’s got him really under her thumb to be able to chase me out. When I think of the kind of life I’ve had, and all because she wanted a girl. Anybody’s girl! But you were somebody’s. You were mine!’

  ‘Shhh!’ Katie scowled at her and ran up the stairs but Celia kept up, clipping Katie’s heel at one point so that her shoe came off. It was only a petty little thing but it incensed her. She didn’t want this woman for a mother! She had a mother and one was enough.

  Katie found them a table and waved Celia to a seat opposite her. Obediently she sat down with a hesitant smile on her face. She gazed round her at the damask cotton-covered tables with their occupants and the uniformed waitresses. ‘I always wanted to come here but I was too shy to come on my own. Besides, I couldn’t afford to eat out then.’ She fixed her eyes on Katie’s face. ‘What shall we have?’ she said eagerly. ‘You pick.’

  Katie reached for the menu and used it to hide her expression whilst trying to gather her racing thoughts. She chose the day’s special for both of them and gave the order to the waitress who suddenly appeared at her side. Then she leant back and unbuttoned her coat. ‘Where was I born?’ she rattled off.

  ‘In the basement, during the May blitz. It was the last night of the raids. Night after night of noise and destruction.’ Celia’s fingers trembled as she pleated the tablecloth. ‘You were premature, and no wonder! My nerves were shot to pieces with the year I’d had before.’

  ‘Who delivered me?’

  ‘Annie’s mam. Mrs Mcleod was there as well – and Hannah and Ben.’

  ‘Ben!’ She was stunned.

  ‘He was only a kid and kept in the background but I remember him asking his mam did she want him to boil some water like they did in the films when a baby was coming.’ Celia paused and held Katie’s stare. ‘Why did he come looking for me?’

  ‘He’s in love with Sarah. I told you, didn’t I?’ Katie covered her face with her hands. ‘He was hoping you and Mick –’ She stopped, hardly able to believe that the thought hadn’t struck her before. ‘Who’s my father?’ she asked, unable to keep the hope out of her voice.

  ‘Nobody you know,’ said Celia, who had anticipated the question. ‘There was a war on. I had more than one fella fancying me. When young men go off to fight, you want to make them happy for a short while so you give them all you’ve got. I loved him, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I was worried about,’ said Katie in a subdued voice. ‘Although – you did love Mick at one time?’

  ‘Yes, I loved Mick.’ Her voice had hardened. ‘But we were both very young and people’s feelings change.’

  That was what he had said and Katie’s hope of bringing them together died.

  Their soup had arrived and Celia picked up her spoon and ate with relish. Katie was still not feeling hungry but she ate hers and when their plates were removed, said, ‘What is it you want from me?’

  ‘I’m lonely.’ Celia smoothed the napkin on her knee. ‘I don’t suppose you know what that feels like, having lived in the Arcadia all your life, being spoilt, always having someone looking out for you?’ She paused but Katie could not have answered to save her life because for the second time in the last few days she was trying to imagine living a different kind of life altogether. ‘Nobody cares if I live or die,’ said Celia.

  Katie struggled to find her voice. ‘Rita seemed to care about you.’

  ‘Rita? Yes, I’ve got a lot to thank Rita for.’ Celia smiled. ‘If she hadn’t helped Annie’s daughter when she had a fit, I’d never have known the Mcleods were still at the Arcadia. I thought at first Eileen was you but Rita put me straight when I asked the name of the girl she helped.’ Celia picked up her spoon. ‘I went back to the Arcadia during the war, wanting to see you, but it was all boarded up and I was told the family had gone to live in Scotland.’

  ‘So you did care that much?’ said Katie.

  ‘Of course I cared! Even though I never had the advantages Kitty Mcleod had, I think I could still have been a good mother to you if – if your father hadn’t died. It’s too late now to know how you’d have turned out,’ said Celia. ‘She’s left her mark on you. But that doesn’t mean to say we couldn’t give living together a chance.’

  ‘You really want me to live with you?’ Katie put down her spoon. She couldn’t eat. ‘You’re asking a lot. I don’t know you.’

  ‘And whose fault’s that?’ Celia’s voice was barely audible. ‘I don’t want to throw stones, Katherine, I know I failed you, but that woman’s been living a lie all these years. She isn’t your mother – I am. And I haven’t been feeling very well lately … You’re so young and strong. I’m sure with you looking after me, I’d soon perk up.’ She spooned custard and jam sponge into her mouth.

  Katherine! She called me Katherine, thought Katie. It made her sound like a completely different person. More grown up. And wasn’t being considered grown up what she wanted? But still she protested: ‘My life’s at the Arcadia. Ma brought me up to take over when she retires.’

  ‘I’m sure – she can give you – much more than I can,’ gasped Celia.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Suddenly she felt exactly like a Katherine and pushed back her chair, thinking Celia was having a heart attack.

  Celia made a choking noise and it was Katherine who forced her head down and whacked her between the shoulder blades. Jam sponge shot on to the tablecloth and Celia dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. ‘You saved my life,’ she said hoarsely. ‘See how useful it would be to me to have you around?’

  Katherine stared at her and then she began to laugh helplessly. There was something about Celia that was beginning to make it impossible for her to walk away, and it wasn’t just because she was starting to believe that this was in fact her real mother. Then the laughter died on her lips and tears filled her eyes. Dear God, what am I going to do? she asked.

  ‘How was the dentist’s?’ called Kitty from behind Reception as Katherine entered the lobby.

  She did not answer immediately but closed the vestibule door carefully after her. R
aw misery and anger were tearing at her insides and she did not know who to blame the most for the way she was feeling. She placed her umbrella in the hallstand and wondered how and where to start, eventually realising there was no easy way. ‘I haven’t been to the dentist,’ she said, striding towards the desk. She stopped close to it and said in a low voice, ‘I lied to you about that, just like you’ve lied to me all these years about me being your daughter.’

  The blood drained out of Kitty’s face and she felt so weak she had to sit down but even so she did her best to make her voice sound normal. ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Celia! Who else? She sent me a letter saying you wanted a daughter so badly you stole me from her.’

  ‘And you believed her?’

  ‘Why should she lie?’

  ‘People do. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life!’

  ‘You wanted a daughter, though?’

  ‘I’d lost one. Of course I did. You were very welcome.’ Kitty forced a smile.

  Katherine fought against being charmed by that smile and her fingers gripped the edge of the desk. ‘I didn’t want to believe her, but why should she lie? She’s nothing to gain.’

  Kitty stared at her and felt suddenly furiously angry. ‘You haven’t known the woman five minutes and you’re taking her word above mine? Have I ever let you down? Haven’t I fed and clothed and cared for you? You’re my daughter and Celia has no right to tell you any different. Now go and get out of those wet shoes and be down here in ten minutes. There’s jobs you should be doing.’

  Katherine did not move. ‘I wish I could believe you.’ Her voice cracked. ‘I know you’ve done all the things you say and I’m grateful, but that doesn’t prove you’re my real mother.’

  Kitty stared at her a moment. Getting up, she took her arm and ushered her into the tiny office, closing the door behind them so they were completely private. ‘My name’s on your birth certificate,’ she said in a low voice. ‘What proof has Celia got?’