All the Days of Our Lives

by Annie Murray

  But she walked back into the office with her face composed, wearing a cool, workday expression.

  ‘Here you are, Mr Collinge.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Simon said curtly. He stood bending over some other document and not even looking up. It was Mr Collinge senior who thanked her with a faint nod.

  Though she had given herself a stern talking to, Katie still spent the afternoon feeling angry and rejected and didn’t even so much as look in Simon Collinge’s direction if she could help it. She left the office at the same time as Lena Crosby, with a curt ‘Goodnight’ to both the men. After Lena had gone up Bradford Street to catch her bus, Katie walked on through the cold, mizzling dark, her hands pushed down into her coat pockets, feeling very sorry for herself. Just one look, one little wink across the office when no one was looking, and she would have known everything was all right. Couldn’t he even have managed that? And so much for wanting to see her again – he seemed to have forgotten she existed! Was he just playing with her? A lump came up in her throat and she was so lost in feeling sorry for herself that she didn’t hear the footsteps hurrying to catch up, until his hand was on her shoulder, swinging her round.

  ‘Hey – I thought we were going out for a drink!’

  Who said? she thought crossly. When did we say that?

  ‘Were we?’ she said in a neutral tone. ‘I wasn’t sure. You seemed to be very busy still.’

  A gaggle of workers from the shop floor was approaching, now that the shift had changed, and Simon took her arm and steered her round the corner.

  ‘Never too busy for you, K-K-K-Katie. Come on, let’s go somewhere warm and away from here.’

  Still angry, wanting to punish him for the way he’d hurt her today, she felt like telling him she couldn’t come. She looked away from him, along the factory walls.

  ‘I can’t just come out whenever I like, you know.’

  ‘Whyever not?’

  ‘It’s my mother – she’s sort of an invalid.’ More lies tripped off her tongue, so easily. ‘I have to be home quite a bit to look after her.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ He sounded a bit put out. She could just make out his long, pale face in the gloom. ‘You never said. Well, look – just one drink. Surely the old girl’ll be all right while you have a quick one?’ He put his hands on her shoulders. The blackout had its uses, she thought – they didn’t need to worry about people seeing them. And he couldn’t see those miserable tears in her eyes. ‘I don’t think I can stand it if you go off now. D’you have any idea of the agony of having you so close to me in the office all day? Wanting to come to you and put my arms around you?’

  Katie felt her ruffled feathers being smoothed down. She began to relent, which of course was what she really longed to do.

  ‘I just thought . . .’ Those foolish tears welled up. ‘I just thought you’d forgotten all about me.’

  ‘Oh, Katie!’ He laughed and reached out to stroke her cheek. ‘What’s this – not crying, are we? Look, I’m sorry.’ Now he did really sound sorry. ‘It’s just, I knew that if I kept looking at you . . . Well, I might not be able to control myself – and that sour-faced Crosby woman would be onto us and there’d be all sorts of gossip. I know it’s awful, but it’s better to keep this sort of thing quite separate, surely you must see that? It doesn’t mean anything. There’s you across the room, with your lovely face and those lips that I’ve been longing to kiss all day, and me having to sit on my hands and take a very serious’ – he was clowning now, and all she could do was laugh – ‘interest in the manufacture of motors and the war effort, when all the time this delicious woman is sitting there just in my line of vision. Oh, the agony!’

  He reached forward and pecked her on the cheek and she forgave him instantly. Of course he was right. They all had to keep their minds on what was important: winning the war! How childish she was being.

  ‘Just one quick drink then . . .’

  ‘Oh, thank goodness! The lady relents!’ He took her arm in that way she loved and said, ‘My car’s just back round the corner.’

  That night she was home by nine o’clock, to find her mother staring stonily at her and a plateful of greyish fish and potato congealing in the oven.

  ‘Sorry, Mother,’ she said, not feeling in the least sorry. Her heart was singing like a bird and her body tingling all over from being held tight in Simon’s arms. They’d been to the Hare and Hounds in Kings Heath and they’d talked about some of the day-to-day things in the office, about some of the characters at the works, and had let off steam about the grimness of Lena Crosby.

  ‘I think we ought to tell her she’s got to smile for the war effort!’ Simon joked. ‘I’ve never seen anyone who can keep up a sour face such a percentage of the time. It must be a record!’ His exaggerated bafflement made Katie giggle helplessly. Later she told him a little bit more about Vera, saying she was over-protective.

  ‘Well, we’d better get you back a good bit earlier tonight, hadn’t we?’ he said, and she was warmed by his consideration.

  But there’d been time for a brief stroll, arm in arm, and he’d taken her in his arms at the edge of the park.

  ‘At last – I’ve got you to myself,’ he said. And they kissed and cuddled. He stroked her hair and looked at her in the darkness. He ran a finger softly down her cheek. ‘Oh God, you’re so lovely.’

  And she wanted to tell him how handsome he was, what the sight of him did to her, but she didn’t know how to begin and ended up saying, ‘You’re lovely too’, and it didn’t feel quite enough.

  ‘My house is not far from here,’ he said after a time. ‘I . . . well, it would have seemed a bit forward to ask you back there straight away . . .’

  ‘Do you live on your own?’ she asked, surprised.

  ‘No, I’ve got two lodgers. They’re both war workers – they’ve come here from Wales. Good lads. But it is a bit of a chaps’ house – could do with a feminine touch. I’d like you to come and see it soon – so that I can have you all to myself.’

  She felt a thrill go through her as he said these words. All to myself: what did he mean? What did he expect of her? She was so full of desire for him, feeling his lean, hard body pressed urgently against her. But all the while she scarcely knew anything, about desire and what it was supposed to mean. In the books she read, if they referred to it at all, there was always a rosy haze around everything and, after the first few kisses, no one ever seemed to go into any detail. All she knew was that she wanted something, wanted him, in a way that nice girls didn’t. Anyway, that probably wasn’t what he meant. He surely just meant that they could sit in private and share a drink.

  As they sat in the car as he dropped her off that night, Simon reached across and gently touched her chin, turning her head towards him.

  ‘Oh, Katie – I can’t stop thinking about you, day and night. You will come out with me again, won’t you?’

  She smiled. ‘Of course I will. And thank you – for the lift and the drink and everything.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a pleasure. One last kiss – please.’

  The feel of his lips was very fresh on her, and no matter how grim her mother’s face, she didn’t care.

  But as she put her plate of fish down in the place that her mother had left laid on the table, Vera’s voice came to her, hard and angry. ‘You’re lying to me. I know you’re going about with someone.’

  Katie almost dropped the plate. ‘What?’ But the wretched blushes came, and she couldn’t help it.

  ‘See, look at you all telltale pink.’ Vera sat up straighter, accusing. ‘I saw you with him – with that fancy car.’

  ‘What – when?’ They had been so careful, parking along the street. It was so dark; how could she have seen, unless she was deliberately spying?

  ‘Tonight. Just now.’ She sat back in a nasty, satisfied way. ‘You must think I’m a complete dupe, that I don’t have eyes. Who is he?’

  ‘All right.’ Katie sat down, shaken at the lengths her mother was p
repared to go to invade her life. ‘He’s . . .’ She was about to tell the truth, but then thought: Why should I? Why should she know everything? ‘He’s a nice man, that’s all. And yes, I went out for a drink with him.’

  ‘Were you with him last night?’ The question slammed at her.

  ‘Yes, if you must know.’

  ‘You were out shamefully late.’

  There was a nasty, insinuating tone in her voice that roused Katie’s temper. ‘What are you saying? He took me out for dinner, that’s why. And I’ll go out with him again, if I please.’ She stood up. ‘I’m not just going to be your prisoner at your say-so all the time. I love him, and I’m twenty years of age – you can’t stop me going out and seeing people, spying on me like some old gossip. And you can keep your nasty fish as well – I’m not hungry!’

  She slid her plate across the table so hard it almost fell off the other side, and stormed up to her bedroom.

  Fifteen

  As the winter passed into spring, Katie grew more and more besotted with Simon. Any doubts were pushed aside. She was in love! It was all she could think about. It was the first time she had ever gone much against her mother’s wishes. At first, Vera was furious.

  ‘Is she still giving you the silent treatment?’ Ann would ask, when Katie met up with her.

  She hadn’t told Ann exactly who Simon was. She was so used to keeping things secret that she only gave away a few bare details. She did not question his need to be discreet.

  ‘It’s like trying to get blood out of a stone with you,’ Ann would say, exasperated. ‘Go on – what does he look like? Is he a dish? What does he do?’

  She bombarded Katie with questions, which she sometimes answered, but just as often didn’t. But for the first time she had confided in Ann about her mother and what she was really like. Ann had been appalled.

  ‘But now, after all this upset,’ Katie told her, ‘something’s changed.’

  She knew that she had more power on her side now, though she would not have said it quite like that. But Vera seemed to sense there was something in Katie’s life that had a stronger pull on her than she, Vera, did, and she had begun to behave more moderately, as if afraid of pushing Katie further away.

  ‘She’s not easy,’ Katie had said with a sigh. ‘I suppose she’s never really got over losing my father.’

  ‘She doesn’t sound easy,’ Ann said. ‘After all, she can’t expect you to stay a child forever, can she?’

  After several days of silence heavy with anger and resentment, after Vera found out that Katie had someone else in her life, one evening when Katie came home she found her mother in bed.

  ‘Mother?’ Katie walked through the silent house and realized that Vera must be upstairs. She knocked on the bedroom door and went in, to find her mother lying on her side, facing the bedroom wall. She stood looking at her for a moment, concern fighting with exasperation. ‘What’s the matter?’ she said in the end, controlling her voice. ‘Are you ill?’

  There was silence, before a convulsive sob came from the bed.

  ‘Mother?’ She dared to go nearer. ‘Has something happened?’

  There was another sound of distress. Katie, full of dread, dared to go and sit beside her, and Vera began sobbing, emotion pouring out of her.

  ‘I just can’t bear it! You’re not my little girl any more. You’re deserting me! What’s going to happen to me? I’m here all alone . . . I’ll be alone, forever – I can’t stand it . . .’

  The sobbing went on and on, and Katie listened with a mixture of sorrow and bafflement. She could see that her mother got a bit lonely, but her reaction seemed so extreme. It was very hard to know what to say, but she knew she had to try.

  ‘I shan’t leave you alone,’ she said soothingly. ‘You know I shan’t. But I do need to go out sometimes. It doesn’t mean I won’t come back. Why do you think it does?’

  Her mother had quietened and was listening.

  ‘The thing is, you should be pleased for me. D’you know why? You know you told me about when you met Daddy, and how it was and all that you felt? Well, I’ve met someone who . . .’

  This seemed to bring on more sobbing, so she stopped.

  ‘I know you lost Daddy, and it was very unfair and sad, but aren’t you glad I’ve found someone whom I can love and who loves me?’

  Vera sat up, her hair dishevelled and her eyes red from crying. Katie moved back, afraid of the wild look in her mother’s eyes.

  ‘And are you so ashamed of me that you can’t bring him home to meet me? Or is it him you’re ashamed of? Perhaps you’ll think I’ll look down on him, that he won’t be good enough for you – some factory Jack you’ve decided to throw yourself at? Is that it?’

  The direction of the conversation had shifted so fast that Katie could barely keep up.

  ‘No . . .’ she said unsteadily. ‘Of course not. I’ll bring him to meet you soon . . .’

  A few days later, when Vera was calmer, she said to her, ‘I’ll bring him round to meet you. But let us just get to know one another a bit more first, eh? Otherwise I might find out it’s not worth your trouble.’

  ‘I thought you said he was the great love of your life,’ Vera said sarcastically.

  ‘Well, yes, but . . .’

  ‘As you like.’ She turned away. ‘But you be careful. Men are fickle fools, and don’t say I haven’t warned you.’

  Katie was astonished by this outburst, when her mother was usually so starry-eyed in her description of men. But she knew then that she’d been right to delay bringing Simon round. He had been cautious about coming to meet Vera and seemed reluctant to take her formally to meet his family. The fact that she already knew his father from the works seemed to complicate things as well.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, when they were sitting in the car again, safe in the darkness, one evening when he dropped her off. ‘Maybe we should just give it a bit of time. After all, what’s the rush? As soon as you get all the families involved, it all gets very serious and . . .’

  ‘Well, I’m serious,’ Katie protested, a bit hurt. It felt important that things were on the right footing.

  ‘Oh, love – I didn’t mean that. But supposing your mother doesn’t like me? And knowing my family – well, they’re marvellous, but they tend to take over. They’d want us round there every week, and we shouldn’t have any time to ourselves. I’ve seen it all with my sister. And if there’s one thing I want more than anything, Katie . . .’ He turned to her and shifted closer, leaning over to kiss her neck. ‘It’s to be alone with you. Really alone. Oh!’ he breathed her in. ‘You smell so lovely.’

  His breath on her neck made her feel warm and full of desire. Though she wanted to feel as if their relationship was serious, and for him to feel proud and introduce her properly to his family, she had misgivings about it too. Supposing they didn’t think she was good enough for him? After all, she was just a typist. Perhaps they had more ambitious plans for their son. And she also longed just to spend time alone with him away from all the busyness of the week. She turned and kissed him.

  ‘All right,’ she agreed. ‘Mom’s getting used to the idea gradually.’ She looked up at him, seeing him looking down longingly at her. ‘And all I really want is to be with you.’

  Soon she didn’t question the way things were. She and Simon had some evenings together, but the best day was Sunday, or at least the Sundays when he wasn’t expected to go and have lunch with his mom and dad. This happened every other week, and as Saturday was usually still busy at the factory, the free Sundays became very precious. As the weather warmed up a bit, they would drive a little way out of town and go for walks on the Lickeys or the Clent Hills, or even, if Simon had enough petrol coupons, as far as the Malvern Hills. They walked and talked. Katie relaxed more with him and found that she could make Simon laugh. They would stop wherever they could find a cosy place to have cups of tea, talking about dreams of the future, when the war was over, of going to the seaside, even to
France.

  If it was wet, they went to Simon’s house in Kings Heath, and hoped Dai and Lewis, the two lodgers, would not be around. She had been impressed when she saw the house, a spacious terrace with a wide front window, furnished in a comfortable style with a big old settee in the front room. Though he had his own house, much of the furniture was obviously second-hand. Simon had a gramophone and a selection of records, nearly all jazz, and the two of them spent cosy winter afternoons curled up in his front room in front of the gas fire, with cups of tea and the gramophone playing Jelly Roll Morton or Duke Ellington while the rain poured down and the windows steamed up. Sometimes they read, or talked. The news had been full of the victory over the Germans at Stalingrad.

  Last Sunday when she was there, and a March wind was blowing so hard outside that they had decided against walking, Simon stretched his long body languidly and smiled round at her. ‘Marvellous, this music. It just sounds like freedom to me – and sunshine and all the good things.’ He twisted round and sat sideways on, laying his hand on her breast, looking longingly at her. ‘Good, good things.’

  His touch had filled her with desire, making her arch her back a little, but she was afraid. Every time they were together now, Simon became more and more insistent. They kissed, and often progressed far further than that, up in his bedroom overlooking the back garden. At first he had begged her to let him see her breasts, and at last she had let him undress her, unbuttoning her blouse with a wondering, hungry expression on his face, which made her love him all the more, fumbling so that she had to help, then unfastening her brassiere, peeling it away to expose her breasts, white and neatly rounded.

  ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘You’re perfect.’

  He’d knelt and licked her nipples as she sat on the side of the bed, and at first she was embarrassed to see a man on his knees in front of her like that. She took his head in her arms and held him as his tongue gave her lovely sensations that went right through her. Again she had the feeling of being swept along by him. He looked up longingly at her.