A Daughter's Choice

by June Francis

  She lifted her eyes and gazed about the basement, feeling a loathing for it, wondering how she could have been so content living here for over thirty years. There were so few of this world’s goods in it because so much of their money had gone into improving and making the hotel a success. Suddenly she decided she would get shut of the place. What had she been thinking of, wanting the same kind of life for her girl? Work, work, work! That was what her life had been! She had to get away! Perhaps she would go to Ireland. The O’Neills might have lied about Jack being there if they were as fond of him as Ben said. But now there was a meal to prepare so she had better get up to the kitchen.

  Sarah arrived back at the Arcadia in a breathless state and found Ben in Reception. ‘Why are you home so early?’ she demanded, her cheeks glowing with exertion.

  ‘That’s a nice welcome!’ His blue eyes flicked over her face. ‘Aren’t you in need of help tonight? I thought you’d be glad to see me.’

  ‘Of course I’m glad to see you,’ she stammered. ‘It’s just that you took me by surprise.’

  ‘Obviously.’ He moved from behind Reception and began to help her off with her coat. ‘You look flustered,’ he murmured against her ear. ‘You’ve got to remember, Sal, you’re not getting any younger and shouldn’t be dashing round the shops when you’ve work to do here.’

  ‘I’m younger than you,’ she retorted.

  ‘Don’t remind me! Remember when we were seven and you were mad at me because I was a few months older?’

  She glanced up at him. ‘They were happy days.’

  A smile tugged at his mouth. ‘Yeah, they sure were.’

  ‘Remember us pretending to be detectives when we were eleven and how you borrowed Mick’s mack and trilby? I used to love it when we dressed up. Remember us playing doctor and nurses with that stick of limp celery?’

  ‘That was your idea for a stethoscope, but then you made that joke and were in stitches.’ He sighed. ‘The trouble is, we’re not kids any more and life’s got too serious, what with Katie,’ he groaned, ‘and Jack’s still missing and Ma’s upset. I feel I have to do something to find them before I can think of myself.’

  ‘I saw Katie!’ she burst out.

  ‘You what!’ He gripped both her arms and his eyes blazed. ‘Where?’

  ‘That’s why I’m all flustered. I spotted her outside Lewis’s but before I could speak to her this fella came up and she went off with him.’

  ‘Where did they go?’

  ‘I thought she might have been coming here but they went up by the cathedral. They might still be there.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Sal! Why didn’t you tell me straight away?’

  ‘You didn’t give me a chance! What are you going to do? She might still come here.’

  He hesitated on his way to the front door. ‘Wouldn’t she have come here first if she was going to do that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Anyway there’ll be someone here if she does come while we go and look for her,’ said Sarah.

  Their eyes met and his face softened. ‘If you’re coming with me, you can get those high heels off or you’ll be holding me back.’

  ‘Give me five seconds!’

  She hurried behind Reception where she kept a pair of flatties. He was already outside by the time she’d put them on and grabbed her coat. He seized her hand and they ran. It was exhilarating and she felt like a child again. ‘Remember Green-teethed Ginny?’ she panted as they jogged in the direction of Rodney Street. ‘How she was supposed to haunt the cemetery?’

  ‘I remember you calling me a coward because I didn’t want to go down there.’

  ‘You did, though. My hero!’ She planted a kiss on his chin and his hand tightened on hers and suddenly they were oblivious to everyone else as they slowed to a walk.

  ‘I love you, Sal,’ he said unsteadily.

  ‘I love you too,’ she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

  He kissed her mouth gently and murmured, ‘We’ll just find Katie and then you and me are gonna make some plans.’

  She nodded, knowing this was no time to feel jealous over his still wanting to find the girl, but she held his hand firmly, unable to bear to let him go.

  They circumnavigated the cathedral and its graveyard without seeing any sign of Katherine. Sarah knew he was disappointed so kept quiet as they returned to the Arcadia, hoping for all the family’s sake that Katherine would be there.

  She was not and Ben did not have the heart to mention her to his mother. Sarah squeezed his hand and said, ‘It was worth a try. Maybe she came so far and then felt she couldn’t come in – was unsure of her welcome?’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ben,’ she said ruefully. ‘I should have spoken to her, but with her being with someone I wasn’t sure what to do.’

  ‘What was the fella like?’ he asked.

  She described Patrick as best she could but it didn’t get them far. ‘At least it looks like she’s getting on with her life,’ he said with a twist to his mouth. ‘Let’s forget her for now. Shall I carry your parcels upstairs.’

  ‘Thanks!’ Sarah’s heart was suddenly light.

  She went with him, hoping that before they made for the kitchen they could talk about themselves for a few moments. She needed to know for sure he had really meant it when he’d said he loved her. Ben dumped her parcels on the bedroom floor and sniffed. ‘You’ve made it your own. I’ve always liked that perfume.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to take Katie’s bedroom over.’ She hesitated. ‘It’s only since I’ve worked here that I’ve realised just how much she did.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear you say that, but you’ve done your fair whack since you’ve been here. I’m proud of you, Sal.’ His eyes were full of warmth as they rested on her face.

  Tears shimmered in hers. ‘Oh Ben, why did we ever fall out? It was all my fault! I wanted to change you and that was stupid. You’re kind and generous and easy-going – and perfect. I never loved your Mick.’

  ‘And I’ve never even been out with Rita.’ One giant stride brought him close to her and his arms went round her. ‘Marry me, Sal?’

  ‘Yes, please. I want to be with you for ever.’

  They kissed passionately and went on kissing, just could not get enough of each other. Everything else was forgotten. He lifted her up and carried her over to the bed. He sat astride her with his knees pressing against her thighs and they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes.

  ‘You said we’d never even made love properly. Well, I’m going to do it now, Sal, because I want you really to belong to me. If that’s all right with you?’

  ‘Oh, Ben!’ she whispered, and brought his head down to hers. She wondered if this was the first time for him. They were both trembling and she guessed that once they went all the way he would never leave her. With him the commitment would be for life. She unfastened his shirt and trousers and soon they were both naked. He was not completely gentle with her as she had expected, but passionate when it came to taking her. It felt so right and the sex was so delicious that she marvelled at her own stupidity for putting this moment off for so long.

  It was not until Sarah was in the bathroom afterwards, staring into her luminous eyes and noting the softness of her mouth, that she thought about it happening on Katherine’s bed. It seemed fitting somehow. She owed the girl for this moment and knew she would never feel the same antagonism towards her again if she came home.

  Katherine had no intention of returning to the Arcadia. She was enraged. Her heart had leapt into her throat when she caught sight of Sarah and Ben but it had come as a shock that neither of them had noticed her. They had had eyes only for each other and had even kissed in the street! She felt choked, thinking about it days later. She had prayed for Ben to see her but nothing had happened so she had given up on God as well.

  She stepped into the new skirt she had bought that day and pulled it with some difficulty over her hips, easing inside the waist band a black cotton
sweater. She clipped on a waspie belt before gazing at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her eyes wore a wounded expression and she realised she must have looked like that when it happened because Patrick had asked her what was wrong. Perceptive of him, she thought. A deep sigh escaped her and despite wearing a roll-on she sucked in her stomach because she had bought the skirt a size too small so it would fit really snugly. Too snugly.

  She hobbled over to the secondhand chest of drawers painted flame orange and picked up a comb. She swept her hair up into a ponytail then fastened on a pair of round black plastic earrings before applying mascara and orange lipstick. She shuffled backwards and picked up a chiffon scarf, which almost but not quite matched the lipstick, and fastened it about her neck so the knot was at the side. Then she slipped her feet into a new pair of red high heels and looked at her reflection again. That was better, she thought. Bright and cheerful is the name of the game!

  ‘You’re not going out like that, are you?’ said Celia.

  Katherine jumped and turned round from the waist only. ‘I wish you wouldn’t creep up on me like that,’ she said crossly, taking tiny steps over to the bedside chair and picking up her jacket.

  ‘You’re never going to get down the stairs.’

  ‘Little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?’ she said sarcastically.

  ‘You are in a mood! I can’t do with moods. But you’ll see …’

  Katherine went along the landing until she reached the stairs and knew then that Celia was right. She was watching, which infuriated Katherine even more. She was getting as bad as Ma, the way she fussed, she thought, and felt weepy all over again. They didn’t want her, that was for sure. Otherwise Ben wouldn’t have looked so happy. But she was not going to think about him and Sarah.

  She tilted her chin, determined to prove Celia and the invisible Ma wrong by going out dressed as she was. She put a hand on the banister rail and jumped with both feet together. By taking tiny jumps in such a manner she managed to reach the living room, slightly breathless but triumphant. ‘See!’ she said to Celia, then her legs gave way and she sank on to the floor.

  ‘You’re a right mad alec,’ said Mrs Evans, chuckling.

  Celia shook her head. ‘I’m not owning up that she’s mine.’

  Katherine stuck her tongue out at her and somehow managed to get up. She glanced at the clock and saw it was time she was on her way. She checked there was money in her handbag and swayed out of the room. Celia, who was going dancing with a woman she had met at her dancing class, followed, hoping nothing would come of Katherine’s wearing a skirt which she considered completely outrageous.

  Katherine was determined she was going to have a helluva good time this evening. She would flirt and have drinks when customers offered. She was not going to give a damn what people thought of her.

  By ten o’clock the pub was crowded and Katherine had downed four Babychams and a couple of Cherry Bs and was getting more and more melancholy, thinking how different things would have been if Mick had been her father and he and Celia had married. She felt annoyed that he wasn’t and her mood changed until she felt quite pugnacious. It was Saturday and there had been a win for first-division Everton. Their fans were happy but some Liverpool supporters were not and were getting rowdier and ruder the more pints they downed.

  ‘Keep it down, gentlemen,’ said the landlord in a weary voice. ‘There’s ladies present.’

  ‘Show me one,’ said a young Liverpudlian with a cheeky grin.

  ‘Thus no ladies ’ere, whack!’ muttered another morosely, jutting out his thick lips. ‘Only ol’ frilly knickers here,’ he said, indicating the chief barmaid. ‘And the other one thinks she’s queen o’ the midden,’ he added, twisting on his stool and staring at Katherine, who was collecting empties. ‘Give us another pint of mother’s milk and make sure yer fill it to the top this time, girl.’

  ‘Listen, slobbergob, I always do,’ she said belligerently, remembering this supporter from another Saturday when the roars from Anfield had been heard in the shop. ‘Your trouble is, you think you’re God’s gift to women.’

  ‘Yer saying I’m not?’

  ‘Who’d have you?’

  ‘Plenty.’ He leered in her face. ‘I could do yer with one hand tied behind me back.’

  ‘You’ve got as much chance of that as winning the Pools,’ she retorted, and made to move away.

  He placed his hand on her bottom and immediately she swayed round. Banging the glasses down on the table, she hissed, ‘Keep your filthy hands off me, you swine!’

  ‘I’m a bloody customer!’ he yelled, stumbling to his feet. ‘Hey, landlord, yer wanna drown this one in a keg!’

  ‘What’s going on?’ said the landlord, bustling over. ‘I’ve told you, gentlemen, to keep it down.’

  ‘She insulted me!’

  ‘He touched me!’ said Katherine wrathfully. ‘He’s got no right to touch me.’

  ‘He probably meant no harm. It could have even been an accident,’ said the landlord, looking harassed.

  ‘She wus asking furrit,’ said the man. ‘Dressed like a bleeding tart!’

  ‘That’s it!’ said Katherine in a fury, and picking up a glass, flung the dregs in his face. ‘I quit! I’ll be back for what I’m owed in the morning!’

  She stormed out in as dignified a manner as possible, notwithstanding how tipsy she was and how hard it was to keep her balance wearing her new high heels. She was thinking if her mother dared say ‘I told you so’ she would slay her. But the evening was not over yet.

  Celia had enjoyed herself. She had been asked to dance several times and one of her partners had said she was a natural dancer, but when he then asked to see her home she had refused. Even so she was in a happy mood as she hurried along the road. The pubs had begun to let out and men lingered on pavements. A figure emerged from the doorway of the photographer’s ahead and crossed the road. Her eyes followed him and suddenly she noticed Katherine by his side, hips swaying seductively in that too-tight skirt. Celia felt anger, annoyance and anxiety as another man detached himself from a group outside the pub and made a grab for her daughter. Katherine managed to avoid him. He went after her again and this time seized hold of her.

  Celia flew across the road. The stupid girl, flaunting herself in such a way! There were now two men tussling, with her daughter in their midst. Celia reached the pavement and, lashing out with her handbag and umbrella, managed to floor one of them while the other she punched in the back.

  ‘Hell!’ he said, clinging on to Katherine.

  ‘What did you do that for?’ she said, putting her arm round the youth and blinking at her mother. ‘This is Patrick! He came to my rescue. He’s the baddie on the ground.’

  Celia said in a vexed voice, ‘How was I to know that? Anyway, let’s get away from here.’ She seized Katherine’s left arm and hustled her towards the pet shop with Patrick holding on to the girl the other side. ‘You’ve never mentioned a Patrick to me,’ muttered Celia.

  Katherine blinked down at her. ‘Why should I? D’you tell me everybody you meet?’

  ‘I’m your mother! I don’t have to. And if you’d taken that skirt off, things would have been different!’

  ‘I’ve been saying that to her,’ said a limping Patrick.

  Katherine giggled. ‘You know how that sounds?’

  ‘Yep.’ He smiled, winced and touched his lip. ‘I’m bleeding.’

  ‘I’ll kiss it better!’ She swayed in his direction but missed his mouth by a foot and almost fell over.

  ‘Will you behave yourself?’ hissed Celia. ‘You’re making a show of us and I want the people round here to respect me.’

  Katherine attempted to pull herself together. ‘You’re getting to sound more like Ma ev-verry-day!’

  ‘Don’t mention her here,’ snapped Celia, opening the door. ‘Will you get inside!’ She tried to force her in but Katherine clung to Patrick.

  ‘Hang on! What about him?’

  ‘He’s g
ot a home to go to, hasn’t he?’ said Celia, feeling harassed.

  ‘Yes – but he’s bleeding.’ Katherine looked soulfully at Patrick. ‘He-he at least de-deserves a cup of cocoa.’

  ‘You’re drunk!’ said Celia, turning on her. ‘I knew no good would come of you working in that pub! I don’t know what Mrs Evans will say …’

  ‘She won’t say anything. She-she likes me!’ said Katherine, dragging on Patrick’s arm. ‘Come in, come in!’

  Celia ground her teeth. ‘Oh, I wash my hands of you! I’m going to put the kettle on.’ She hurried upstairs.

  Patrick frowned after her. ‘Who’s Ma if she’s your mother?’

  ‘Oh, never mind that now,’ said Katherine, clutching at him. ‘Carry me upstairs. I’ll fall down if I try to walk up.’ She attempted to control a yawn but could not.

  ‘Who do you think I am – Superman?’ said Patrick, giving her a stern look. ‘She’s right. You’re going to have to give up that pub, Katherine.’

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ she said, jiggling about. ‘And lift me up.’

  Somehow he managed to sweep her up in his arms. ‘If we both fall down, it’s your fault,’ he warned.

  ‘You won’t drop me, my nice strong Patrick,’ she murmured, head lolling against his shoulder. ‘But you mustn’t go picking fights with people any more. You’ll get hurt.’

  ‘I never pick fights!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s only when you’re around I get into trouble.’

  ‘Be honest. You picked that fight with Dougie!’

  ‘Shhh!’ said Celia, as they reached the landing. ‘Who are you talking about now?’

  ‘Nobody important,’ sighed Katherine as Patrick carried her into the living room and put her down on the sofa.

  She gazed up at him and tutted. ‘You’re bleeding.’ She dragged herself up and swayed across the room to where she knew there was a biscuit tin with first-aid things inside. With her eyes shut and her head resting against the wall above the sink, she dampened a ball of cotton wool and click-clacked back into the room. ‘My brave hero,’ she said, jerkily dabbing the cut on his face.