Moving On

by Millie Gray

  The mention of Eric’s name brought a spark of life back to Connie. ‘Is it true that he will be getting released soon?’

  ‘Yes. If he continues to be the model prisoner he is he will be free in about three months’ time. But when he is released he won’t be staying here. Intends, he does, to make a home for himself and Billy in Cornwall. I think that is for the best because he will be near Laura and she will look out for them. Also nobody will know his past or taunt Billy about his mum and dad.’ Clucking her tongue as she tried to make sure she had covered everything for Connie, Kitty finally said, ‘And did I say to you that I will be leaving early in the morning because I must catch the early train?’ She paused. She didn’t like deliberately lying to Connie but Connie would feel humiliated if she knew that Kitty, before going to Cornwall, would firstly be travelling to London to see her father. The visit she would make to him tomorrow would only ever be known to the two of them. After London, it would be full steam ahead for Carlyon Bay in Cornwall.

  It had been her intention just to have a short visit with Eric, but Eric was quite excited about the prospect of his impending release so a quick half hour became a long hour.

  Over and over again Eric had asked Kitty if she thought that his release would go ahead sooner rather than later. Then he went on to outline all the plans that he had made for a new life for himself and Billy. Kitty had to, at one point, gently say to Eric that Billy didn’t really know him now and therefore, at first, he would have to allow time for a relationship to develop between them. Eric, however, countered her concerns by reminding Kitty that Laura had always made sure that Billy knew that he had a daddy and that soon they would be together. As London was uppermost in her mind she eventually just shrugged and finally managed to diplomatically end her visit with Eric. Her parting words to him were, ‘Your Billy is a clever little boy and you’ll soon find out that he is more than able to give you a run for your money on the mouth organ.’

  She was still thinking about Eric and Billy when she arrived at the prison’s outside door. But Eric and Billy’s future problems vanished from her thoughts when she looked out at the horrendous, spectacular thunderstorm that had besieged the city.

  Looking down at her sandal-shod feet, she sighed. There was no way she could go out into the deluge, especially as she was only wearing a thin summer jacket.

  ‘Quite a surprise,’ a male voice said.

  Turning to answer, Kitty was surprised to find Felix Martin, the advocate who had prosecuted in Eric’s case. ‘Oh hello, it’s you.’

  ‘Yes it is. And I was just making sure that it was you. I mean you are Miss Anderson or Mrs . . .?’

  ‘Still Miss Anderson, I am happy to say.’

  Although surprised and very pleased at her answer, Felix only asked, ‘You have no transport of your own?’

  Kitty just giggled and shook her head.

  ‘In that case could I offer you a lift home, Miss Anderson?’

  ‘That would be just great. But I could only allow you to do that if you would call me Kitty.’ He laughed. ‘You can laugh but someone saying Miss Anderson makes me feel rather old and dowdy.’

  He didn’t answer her but he did think that he could never, ever imagine a time when he would think that she was old and dowdy. Without another word he opened up his large umbrella and together they dashed over to his parked car.

  ‘Now where is it that you reside?’

  ‘Normally in the nurses’ home but for the next few weeks . . . that is until I find another job, I am lodging at my father’s house on the Ferry Road, just opposite the Goldenacre playing fields.’

  He laughed before replying, ‘Your father and I are practically neighbours. My home is the last house before the church in Inverleith Gardens.’

  ‘That’s just great because I really do have to get home quickly. You see I’m catching the London train in the morning.’

  ‘You are going to London?’

  ‘Just a small detour for a day or two but then . . .’ She hunched her shoulders with delight. ‘I will be Carlyon Bay in Cornwall bound where I will have about five wonderful days holidaying . . . just doing nothing.’ She babbled on, ‘To me, sheer heaven is getting my deckchair close up to the large rocky cliffs on the beach and getting a book out.’

  ‘You like reading then?’

  ‘I do.’

  They were now coming down into Goldenacre. Quite innocently Kitty said, ‘Hope my stepmother has some nice food ready for me. I haven’t had time to eat since breakfast.’

  She was then surprised when Felix did a three-point turn with his car and then started to head back up past the Botanic Gardens.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  He smiled, and she couldn’t be sure, but she thought he winked at her. ‘I haven’t eaten all day either,’ he chortled, ‘so as I know a charming little restaurant, ah here we are . . . Now please, Kitty, let me treat you to your supper.’

  Kitty smiled as she boarded the London train because there in the second carriage was a vacant south-facing corner seat that she could tuck herself into and either watch the countryside pass by, read her book or catch up on some sleep.

  The noise of the train, as it clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clickety-clacked its way southward had a soporific effect on Kitty. Drifting in and out of sleep she went over the happenings of the day before.

  Firstly, it was so sad to have said goodbye to Dotty. Then she had discovered Connie upset about her dad’s treatment of her, and indeed she was so concerned that she was now London bound. She then thought on her visit to Eric, before finally allowing her meeting with Felix Martin to dominate her thoughts. Thinking of this man awakened such pleasurable feelings within her that she had to make herself think about mundane things before these feelings became, what was alien to her, sensual. She did try to pass away time by thinking about which hospitals she would apply to for a position but her mind kept drifting back again and again to Felix. She even tried to say to herself that this man was at least ten years older than she was so what could they have in common? Okay, she admitted, he had taken pity on her, and had treated her to a very nice meal but by the time he had dropped her off at her father’s house, what did she know about him? Nothing! She grimaced as she admitted, well there was one thing that she knew about him now and that was that he was very good at his job. How did she know that? Well, she had spent two and a half hours in his company and he had managed to have her tell him all about herself and her life but he had expertly made sure that she got to know nothing about him. Finally, she thought about how it was four years since they had first briefly met yet somehow he remembered her. She smiled, thinking wouldn’t it be nice if somehow he had always been hovering in the background.

  Kings Cross Station was an eye-opener for Kitty. She was so amazed by the constant hustle and bustle that she began to have second thoughts about her visit. After all, other than going to see Laura in Cornwall, she had never really been out of Leith.

  Lugging her case towards the left luggage she deposited it there before advancing out into the front street just carrying her overnight bag. Looking about she wondered where all the traffic of buses, cars, lorries and taxis had come from. The problem perplexing her was that she had no idea which bus she should take to get to her Father’s bedsit. She stood and assessed the situation. London, she thought, was such a noisy, busy, frightening city that she concluded it was no time to be thrifty so she hailed a taxi.

  Opening the taxi door the driver asked, ‘Where to, love?’

  ‘Seventy-two Oban Street. I think it might be somewhere near the House of Commons.’

  The taxi driver pushed the “for hire” flag down before saying, ‘Nope. Oban Street is nowhere near the Houses of Parliament.’ He scratched his head before adding, ‘But mind you, as the crow flies, it’s not that far.’

  When the taxi driver drew up at Oban Street, Kitty paid the exact fare the driver asked for. She added no tip because she thought he knew that she was a stra
nger in town so had taken her via anywhere he could, just to bump up his earnings.

  Once she had alighted from the cab she glanced about. To be truthful, Oban Street appeared to be no Buckingham Palace, but then it was no Skid Row either

  Advancing to the door of number seventy-two she could see that on the ground floor, where Connie had said her father had his flat, there were five doors leading off. Checking the nameplates she was pleased to discover that number three had her father’s name on it.

  Breathing in deeply she knocked sharply on the door.

  After a minute she heard a young female voice calling, ‘Cooee, cooee, Johnny boy. You’re early. Suppose you couldn’t wait to get home to me.’

  The door was then opened by a black-haired, scantily clad, young woman. Her broad grin was replaced by a deep frown when she saw Kitty. Tutting and sighing, she came further out of the doorway and pointed to the next door on the right. ‘That there is Charlie Spring’s place. Wish to goodness he would give you “ladies” the right address.

  The lady then went to close the door but was prevented from doing so by Kitty pushing into the room. ‘Here, what do you think you’re doing? This is private property. Johnny Anderson will not half be furious if he finds you here.’

  ‘You’re right there. But the one person he will not find here when he gets back is you. What’s your name . . . ?’

  ‘Molly, but Johnny Boy calls me Candy.’

  Kitty couldn’t hide her disgust. ‘That right,’ she hissed. ‘Well, Molly, Candy, or whatever your name is, just pack your bags and go.’

  ‘But I am Mister Anderson’s bona fide researcher . . .’

  Looking disdainfully at the turned down bed-settee, Kitty gritted her teeth. ‘That right?’ she sweetly emphasised. ‘Well, take it from me I am his bona-fide daughter and as he will no longer be requiring any further research of a horizontal nature I am terminating your employment.’

  ‘You can’t do that.’

  ‘Well if you would rather that I get rid of you some other way?’

  ‘You mean murder me!’ Candy gulped whilst backing away from Kitty.

  ‘It would be a very last resort . . . But yes,’ Kitty, who was now in a mood to tease this young woman, uttered as she ran her right index finger over her neck. ‘But then the choice is yours.’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare cut my throat,’ Candy gulped as she began to distance herself, even further, from Kitty.

  Kitty just nodded as she slinked closer and closer to Candy.

  ‘But I know you wouldn’t because you’re so wrong about Johnny Anderson . . . He doesn’t have any children.’

  ‘That right?’ Kitty hollered as she swallowed hard to quell her utter exasperation. ‘Now let me tell you that when he was married to my mother he fathered Bobby, Jack, Dave, Rosebud and you know about me, and if that’s not enough to be going on with, his second wife, Connie, has a little angel of a daughter by him.’

  ‘You’re having me on.’

  ‘I can assure you I am not. And furthermore, from next Monday my father’s administrative needs will be supplied by a male clerk and researcher.’

  Before either Kitty or Candy could continue there was a light rap on the door and a male voice simpered, ‘Cooee, cooee, it’s me, Candy, baby.’

  Johnny then leapt into the room, giving a demonstration of a rutting stag and shouting, ‘I am ready to fight for you . . . even die for you.’ But the smile died on his face when he lifted his eyes and he was confronted with Kitty.

  He then stuttered, ‘Oh, em, oo, oh, ah, hah.’

  ‘Yes,’ Kitty calmly said, although she was frenzied with rage. ‘Oh, em, ah, oo to you too. Now I have already politely asked that Miss Candy not only vacate this bedsit right now but also your life. What I expect from you, Daddy, is just a nod to confirm that is exactly what she should do . . . otherwise her blood will be spilt on the carpet. And I am sure you wouldn’t want that.’

  Johnny was now gasping like a fish out of water. But when he saw the look on Kitty’s face, which reminded him of his late mother, he meekly bobbed his head. In fact, he was so keen to appease her that he resembled a fairground nodding dog.

  It then took Candy just five minutes to gather up her belongings and when the door banged shut behind her Kitty’s full attention landed on her father.

  ‘What on earth do you think you are playing at? Have you forgotten that you are a socialist and not a Tory?’

  ‘Don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Just that it is Conservatives who create sexual scandals with women young enough to be their granddaughters, and that socialists, when they wish to commit political suicide, usually put their hands in the till.’

  Johnny was about to reply when Kitty, who had to restrain herself from hitting him, added, ‘And have you thought of what this will do to Connie? Yesterday the poor soul was so down about you . . . and don’t think that when you arrived home stinking of stale cologne and too tired to even talk to her that she didn’t think . . . or know . . . what you had been up to. Dad, you are a first class numbskull . . . Honestly, how could you be so stupid as to put all you have worked for at stake for a . . . a . . . at best, a good-time girl? That Candy, Dad, is younger than me.’ Kitty’s eyes rolled before she spluttered, ‘And have you any idea what the gutter-press headlines will look like when she sells them her story?’

  Again Johnny tried to put up a defence but Kitty hissed, ‘Oh Dad, you have so completely lost it that you don’t realise that the next General Election is, at the most, only nine months away? Who in middle-class Wardie, Davidson’s Mains, Silverknowes and all around Granton will vote for you if you leave Connie or she throws you out . . . and for an affair with a bimbo like Candy? And have you thought about where you will find a job that pays you one thousand pounds a year? And don’t forget that that salary pays the mortgage on Ferry Road and keeps Rosebud and Jackie in shoes?’

  Kitty was spent and tears sprang to her eyes. She just couldn’t believe that her dad, born and bred in Leith by her grandmother, could be behaving like a first-class ass.

  Now that Johnny could get a word in, he adopted a rather superior tone to say, ‘Miss, I think you should remember who you are speaking to and as your father I deserve respect.’

  ‘That right? Well as far as I am concerned respect is something that you earn.’ She then lifted up a pair of silk stockings that Candy had left behind and she forcibly threw them in her father’s face.

  The following morning the atmosphere between father and daughter was still cooler than Antarctica.

  On arrival at the Edinburgh train platform, Johnny, who couldn’t wait to see the back of Kitty, uttered in a superior tone of voice, ‘I best get aboard.’

  ‘Fine. But first there are a few things I still have to go over with you.’

  ‘With all you had to say last night that’s not possible.’

  Kitty ignored her father’s sarcasm and proceeded to say, ‘I am aware that you think you can get away with anything . . . and that is not all your fault. No. No. The women in your life who have always allowed you to get off scot-free are also to blame.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Like when Mum died, you dumped all your responsibilities on me, a fifteen-year-old slip of a lassie. And, if it hadn’t been for Granny, Aunt Kate and dear Connie, I would not have been able to cope with a newborn baby and a household during rationing time. Now poor gullible Connie holds the fort while you play the big-shot politician.’ Johnny huffed. ‘Oh yes, Dad, she does and she was the one who sorted our Davy out.’

  ‘I hope you don’t think that getting him to start courting a lassie from the Baptists is . . .’

  ‘His saviour? Yes I do. Believe me, Joy is most certainly that, Dad. But back to you, from now on you won’t dump your responsibilities on any of us.’ Winking and cocking her head towards him she continued with, ‘Time to grow up and be the “big guy” with your family because in the end that’s all that you will be left with.’ Kitty
inhaled deeply before going on. ‘Now I won’t mention to anyone about what you got up to down here. Not for your sake, but I not only love Connie I also owe her. Therefore, I cannot stand by and see her humiliated. Finally, when you get off the train, go and buy some flowers and chocolates and a couple of things for Rosebud and Jackie. And tomorrow night get Davy and that lovely wee lassie, Joy, he’s nuts about, to babysit and then take Connie out for a meal.’

  ‘Go to Costa’s chippie?’

  ‘Definitely not Costa’s chippie. Up from the Botanic Gardens, on the right hand side, you’ll find a small, family run restaurant. Romantic place. And you make sure that Connie knows, not so much that she has you back, but that you never two-timed her.’

  ‘Know something,’ Johnny spat in reply. ‘I’m always promoting the education of women and saying it is the way forward . . . well miss, the educating of you has certainly been a stick to break my back.’

  Kitty chuckled. Johnny then jumped aboard with Kitty’s final words ringing in his ears. ‘And don’t ever think of straying again because I really quite like getting up to date with my reading on long train journeys.’

  It was early evening when Kitty’s train pulled into St Austell. Jumping from the train and then lugging off her case, Kitty looked about the platform. No welcoming committee.

  She was just considering asking the directions to the bus station when Mike Bailey sprinted into view.

  ‘Whoa. Whoa. There’s no fire,’ Kitty said before squinting behind him. ‘Laura busy with the bed and breakfast?’

  ‘Yes and no. She had a doctor’s appointment but I dropped her off home to get our meal started.’ Kitty looked puzzled. ‘Anything wrong?’

  ‘No. She just had some check-ups to get done and our neighbour said she would look after Billy when he got in from school.’