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Authors: Benita Brown

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BOOK: Dreaming Out Loud
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Tony waited until Luis had poured the wine and then he looked straight at Kay and said, ‘So you’ve given notice at Sampson’s?’

‘Yes. But how did you know that?’

‘Don’t look so surprised. This is a small town. Word gets round. I suppose you did plan to tell me?’

‘Of course. Tonight, as a matter of fact.’

‘So that’s why you weren’t concentrating before. I could have said we’ll have fried toad’s legs and you would have agreed. But this is good news, Kay. I never liked the idea of your working in a grocery shop. You are far too intelligent. I often felt like telling your mother that it was you she should have sent to college, not Julie.’

‘Julie is very bright.’

‘Maybe so, but she hasn’t got the same – how shall I put it? – style, class, elegance as you have.’

‘Elegance? You go too far.’

Kay smiled but Tony shook his head. ‘I don’t think I do. Even when you go whizzing round town on that old bicycle, you display ladylike qualities that your younger sister could never aspire to. Why are you laughing?’

‘Oh, Tony, I love the compliments, but you do sound a trifle pompous.’

‘Do I? Good grief. Am I turning into my father? Or worse still, my mother?’ He turned to look at his reflection in the window, pretended to study it closely, then shook his head. ‘No, there’s still time to save me. Promise me you’ll save me.’

Kay hesitated. ‘I’m not sure what you mean. Tell me how I can save you.’

Here it comes
, she thought. One of those moments that in a romantic novel or a film would lead to a proposal. She looked across the table, but Tony must have changed his mind. He was leaning back and smiling at the young waitress who had arrived with their meal.

‘Ah, here we are,’ he said. ‘The fried toad’s legs.’

The girl looked at him nervously. ‘No, sir, it’s steaks. One well done, one medium rare. I don’t think we do toad’s legs.’

Kay smiled up at her. ‘He’s teasing,’ she said. ‘The steaks are exactly what we want, thank you.’

Tony topped up their glasses, and while they ate their meal the conversation was entirely inconsequential. It wasn’t until they had finished their peach Melbas and were drinking their coffee that Tony asked, quite straightforwardly, ‘So what are you going to do now that you’ve left Sampson’s? Have you found another job?’

‘Not exactly.’ He looked puzzled and she hurried on. ‘I mean, I shall do something eventually, but first I have to go to London to sort out the affairs of an old friend of my mother’s.’

How clumsy that sounds
, she thought.
And why couldn’t I have told him the truth straight away?

Tony looked dumbfounded. ‘I don’t know where to begin,’ he said. ‘But it sounds as though this old friend of your mother’s might have passed away.’

His words reminded Kay of Lana’s letter, and she smiled sadly. ‘Yes, she has, and she’s left a houseful of stuff that must be sorted.’

‘Junk?’

‘I won’t know until I get there.’

Tony leaned back in his chair and stared at her. ‘Why can’t your mother go?’

‘Because Lana – her friend – asked specifically for me.’ The name had slipped out, but Kay realised that it meant nothing to Tony.

‘Kay, why aren’t you telling me the truth?’

‘I am.’

‘The whole truth. You’re lying by omission. I’m not stupid. There’s obviously a will involved.’

‘Yes.’

‘The old girl has left you this houseful of junk, hasn’t she?’

‘She wasn’t that old and it might not be junk.’

‘And you’ve given up your job. The old friend has also left a sum of money.’

‘Two thousand pounds.’

‘To your mother.’

‘No. To me. You see, she was my godmother.’

Tony stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment and then asked, ‘Did you intend to tell me?’

‘Yes. Tonight. I didn’t know how.’

Suddenly he seemed to pull himself together and he smiled reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry, Kay. I understand. It must have been a huge shock for you. And now, shall we order a fresh pot of coffee and go through to the hotel lounge to be entertained by Mitzi and Minna?’

Mitzi and Minna might or might not have been sisters, but they dressed identically in black evening gowns and wore the same pageboy hairstyle in shining ash blonde. They were so skilfully made up that it was hard to tell how old they were. Minna played the piano and Mitzi the violin. And every night in the lounge of the Grand Hotel they played their way through an enormous repertoire of popular music – everything from light classical to numbers from the Hit Parade. Tonight they were playing a medley of songs from popular Broadway musicals.

Tony led the way to an empty table and they settled on the crimson padded chairs. They didn’t have to wait long before their waitress brought a tray of coffee and a dish of almond biscuits.

‘It’s all rather faded, isn’t it?’ Tony said when the waitress had retreated.

‘You mean the hotel?’

‘I do. If you look at the old photographs displayed on the walls in the foyer, it was once rather grand.’ He smiled. ‘The Grand Hotel lived up to its name. But it’s lived through two wars and now it needs some tender care.’ Abruptly he changed the subject. ‘I suppose you’ll be staying in a good hotel while you’re in London?’

Kay concentrated on pouring the coffee into the two small cups and simply nodded her head.

‘And I hope it won’t be too long before you come home again.’

‘Well, I’m not sure how long it will take.’
Evasion
, Kay thought.
I’m avoiding telling Tony that I don’t know whether I want to come home. That I haven’t a clue what I want to do.

If she felt guilty about that, his next words made her feel even worse. ‘Kay, I’m so happy for you.’

‘Are you?’

‘Of course. If anyone deserves a stroke of luck like this, it’s you. You know, I couldn’t believe it when I walked into Sampson’s that day and found you serving behind the counter. My mother had run out of her special brand of ground coffee, and by the time I got to the shop I’d entirely forgotten what it was. You saved my bacon.’

Kay laughed. ‘That wasn’t hard. Your mother had been buying the same coffee ever since I started work there.’

‘And as I sat on that high stool by the counter and waited while you ground the coffee beans, I wondered how on earth a girl like you was working in a grocery store.’

‘Do you know how snobbish that sounds?’

‘Does it? Oh, God, I’m sorry. First you tell me I’m pompous and now I’m being snobbish. It’s a good job I have you to keep me on the right path.’

And this time it was Kay who withdrew and couldn’t quite meet his eyes. Tony took up the white porcelain coffee jug and refilled his cup. She watched as he used the silver tongs to pick up two tiny brown sugar cubes.

He couldn’t help it, she thought. It was the way he’d been brought up. But joining the air force when he was only just twenty had opened his eyes to a different world, a different way of life. He was brave and generous – he had brought his crew home when it would have been so much easier to order them to bail out and let them take their chances. The two of them had fun when they went out together, they seldom quarrelled, and yet they hadn’t truly become close. People assumed that they would get married, but Tony always held back. And now that she had money, would that make things any different? She wished that thought hadn’t even crossed her mind.

‘What are you thinking?’ Tony asked, and Kay realised that he had been watching her.

‘Oh, nothing very much.’

‘Well, going by the look on your face, “nothing very much” seemed to be causing you some concern.’

‘No, really. It’s just that I have so much to do before I go to London.’

‘If you say so. But when you get there, don’t stay away too long, will you?’

Kay’s answer was a shake of her head and a smile.

‘I’ll take that as a no,’ Tony said. ‘But now shall we sit back and listen to the music? I think it’s from
Carousel.

‘Mmm. It is.’

Mitzi and Minna were playing ‘If I loved you’.

It was nearly midnight when Tony walked her home. Usually, when they had been out together, Kay would invite him in for a cup of coffee, but tonight she had too much to think about. She needed to be alone. Tony, always the gentleman, waited for the invitation, but when it didn’t come he drew her into his arms and bade her goodnight. His kiss was more fervent than usual, and Kay wondered if the thought of her leaving had prompted him to be more demonstrative.

Fleetingly she wondered if he would beg her to stay, tell her that he could not bear to be without her no matter how short the time was. She had no time to decide what her answer might be before he gave her a friendly hug and walked away.

The house was quiet. Kay closed the door noiselessly and breathed in the usual comforting smells of lavender polish and her mother’s home baking. She left her coat on the hallstand and made her way upstairs in the dark.

A thin sliver of light falling across the carpet on the landing told her that her sister’s bedroom door was ajar. As she walked past it, Julie pulled the door wide open and stood there staring at her. She was wearing a baby-pink quilted dressing gown that, despite her womanly figure, made her look like a precocious schoolgirl, and an Alice band kept her shoulder-length chestnut-coloured hair back from her face. The whole image contrasted oddly with the unlit cigarette held between two fingers.

Kay couldn’t stop herself from saying, ‘Mum doesn’t like you to smoke upstairs.’

‘Then don’t tell her,’ Julie replied.

‘You know I wouldn’t. But she’ll smell the smoke.’

‘Not if I keep the door closed and sit by the open window.’

Kay shrugged. ‘Did you want to speak to me?’ she asked.

‘Why else would I be waiting here? Oh, come on in, Kay, before we wake Mum with our chattering.’

The room was cold. Kay guessed her sister must have had the window open for some time. ‘Can’t you sleep?’ she asked.

‘It’s not that.’

‘What is it then?’

Julie didn’t answer. Taking a box of matches from her pocket, she lit her cigarette and went to sit on a pink velvet button-backed bedroom chair which was placed by the window. Kay noticed the half-full ashtray on the window sill. She sat on the bed and waited for Julie to begin.

‘Why didn’t you tell me yourself?’ Julie said at last. A spasm of annoyance marred her pretty face. ‘Why did you leave it to Mum to tell me that Lana Fontaine has left you a fortune?’

‘It’s not a fortune, Julie. But you’re right. I should have told you and I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been thinking what I should do.’

‘And have you made your mind up?’

‘I think so.’

‘Why didn’t you ask me to help you?’

Kay was surprised by the question. ‘Perhaps I should have done. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t keep apologising. But I’d really like to know why you kept it such a secret. I’m your sister. I should have thought that you would want to confide in me.’ Julie frowned and turned to waft the smoke from her cigarette out of the window, then turned back to face Kay and sighed. ‘But we’re not very close, are we, you and I?’

Kay shook her head. She couldn’t deny it.

‘I’m not sure if we even like each other.’ For a moment Julie looked and sounded like a lost child.

‘Oh, Julie, of course we do!’

‘It doesn’t seem so sometimes. Do you know, there are some days when we barely speak to each other. You’ve gone to work before I get up in the morning and when we get back you’re always dashing off to see Tony.’

Kay smiled. ‘That’s an exaggeration. I don’t go out every night, but sometimes when I stay in you are out with your college friends.’

‘That’s true,’ Julie said grudgingly. Then she looked at Kay wide-eyed and asked, ‘Are we quarrelling, Kay?’

‘No, we’re not. At least, I don’t want a quarrel. You know, I think the problem is that we are very different people.’

‘You mean because I go to college and you work in a shop?’

Kay had to suppress a sudden spurt of anger. Inwardly she acknowledged that there was probably some truth in her sister’s comment, but she simply replied, ‘Well, we have different interests, don’t we?’

They looked at each other and Julie’s bedside clock ticked away the lengthening silence. Eventually Julie turned to close the window. Kay wondered what her sister would do with the incriminating cigarette ash.

When Julie turned back, Kay smiled and said, ‘We’d better get to bed.’

‘So you’re not going to tell me then?’

‘Tell you what?’

‘What you’re going to do with the money.’

‘Don’t worry, Julie. You’ll get your share.’

‘I didn’t mean that!’

‘Oh?’

‘Well, not in that sense. I was just curious. That’s all.’

Julie looked genuinely miserable and Kay relented. ‘Don’t worry. When everything is sorted out we’ll have a cosy gossip and I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Will that please you?’

Julie didn’t reply. She simply nodded despondently, and Kay went off to bed feeling thoroughly unsettled. She knew in her heart that the reason Julie and she could never be comfortable with each other was because their mother treated each of them so differently.

Chapter Five

London, late October

Kay had expected something rather grand – a dignified building with marble floors and Corinthian pillars, perhaps. Instead she was bemused to find that the solicitor’s office was a few rooms above a grocery shop. The sleeper train from Newcastle had arrived at King’s Cross at six o’clock that morning, and Kay had breakfasted on tea and a roll and butter in her cabin. This was all she could manage, although the menu offered a much greater choice. When she had booked the ticket Miss Bennet had gone with her to the Central Station and had persuaded her to travel first class.

‘You will need a good night’s sleep,’ her old friend had told her.

However, no matter how comfortable the cabin was, Kay, nerves taut with excitement, had hardly slept a wink.

When she emerged from the train a porter appeared from nowhere and hefted her suitcase on to his trolley. The platform seemed never-ending as she followed him to the taxi stand. He stowed her suitcase into the next waiting cab, and smiled broadly and touched his cap when she handed him a tip of a shilling. It was probably too much, she thought, and immediately began to worry about the size of tip she should give to the taxi driver.

She had shown him the address on the letterhead and he had smiled. Kay thought this was because her destination in Wood Green was some distance from the station, so he would be receiving a good payment. When they arrived, she quickly worked out ten per cent of the fare and hoped that was correct. Perhaps it wasn’t, because the cab driver had been completely unsmiling when he pocketed it. He didn’t help her with her suitcase.

Feeling tired and deflated, Kay stood on the pavement outside a grocer’s shop in a suburban high street staring up at the gold letters on the window of the first floor: Charles A. Butler, Solicitor. That was where she had to go. But how to get there?

‘Move along, will you?’ a large, unfriendly woman said. ‘Folks has to get by.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry . . .’ Kay began, but the woman had disappeared amongst the early-morning crowd.

People were hurrying because it was cold. Despite her new woollen coat, Kay was shivering. The soles of her new fashionable court shoes did little to protect her toes from the cold pavement.

‘If you want the solicitor, the door’s right there,’ a young lad told her. He was wheeling a bicycle with a basket full of groceries on the front handlebars. He nodded towards a door at one side of the shop.

‘Oh, thank you.’

The door pushed open easily and Kay lugged her suitcase up the worn lino-covered stairs. A familiar smell of smoked bacon, cheese and coffee seeped through the walls from the shop, and Kay, light-headed from lack of sleep, almost imagined herself back at Sampson’s. As she neared the top, she heard the clattering of a typewriter, and someone with an educated and melodious voice called out, ‘Is that you, Miss Lockwood? Do come in.’ A door with a frosted glass window was ajar. This was where the voice came from.

Kay entered as she was instructed, and a tall woman rose from her desk. ‘It is Miss Lockwood, isn’t it?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘I’m Moira. Moira Davies. Pleased to meet you. Do sit down.’ She waved an elegant arm in the direction of an armchair. ‘I’m just going to finish these letters,’ she said, ‘but if you’ve been carrying that bulging suitcase around it will give you time to get your breath back.’

The chair was comfortable and Kay felt her eyes closing. If it hadn’t been for the clattering of the typewriter, she might have fallen asleep. Instead she forced herself to look around the room. Miss Davies’ office was like any other office, she imagined, with a desk, bookcases and filing cabinets. In the wall on the right there was another door. Kay decided that Mr Butler must be in there.

She looked covertly at the woman behind the desk. The secretary’s greying hair was swept back into a French pleat, which made her look more austere than her welcoming manner had suggested. She was carefully made-up, and her black and white checked costume with its slim skirt and boxy jacket was extremely stylish.

In the face of such up to the minute fashion, Kay was glad that she had allowed Miss Bennet to talk her into buying the cherry-red coat with its nipped-in waist and long, full skirt. And although she hardly ever wore a hat, she was thankful that she had remembered to pin on the little saucer-sized Juliet cap before she left the train.

‘Won’t be long,’ the secretary called out. ‘Then I’ll make us a cup of tea.’

Kay began to wonder where Mr Butler was. This was all so strange. Had she come on the right day? Yes, it was obvious that she had been expected. The noise of the typewriter stopped and Moira Davies began to shuffle papers. The room was warm and Kay was tired. She wriggled her poor numbed toes to restore the circulation, then she closed her eyes.

‘Milk and sugar, Miss Lockwood?’

Kay awoke with a start to find Miss Davies standing over her.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.’

‘Don’t worry, dear. It gave me time to pop out and post the letters and then to make a pot of tea.’ She made one of those graceful gestures again, this time in the direction of her desk, where there was now a tray with a teapot, a milk jug, a sugar bowl and two cups. Kay looked at them and smiled in recognition.

‘You’ve noticed my Royal Albert?’ Miss Davies looked pleased.

‘They’re very pretty. I know someone, an old friend, who has the same set.’

‘Old Country Roses. I like nice things. Just because I work in a dreary office doesn’t mean that I can’t have a bit of luxury to cheer my day. As a matter of fact, this set was a gift from Lana – your godmother. She said I deserved it for putting up with her for so long.’

‘Putting up with her?’

‘Mr Butler has been her solicitor for many years.’ The secretary paused as if there was something else she could have said. This left Kay a little puzzled. ‘Now, milk and sugar?’

‘Yes, please.’

Miss Davies poured the tea, and after giving Kay her cup she took her own and sat down behind her typewriter. ‘I’ve booked you into a respectable guest house as you requested. I think that was very wise of you, and it’s just in the next street to where we will be going. May I suggest that you go to the guest house now? I’ll give you directions. Have a rest, then I’ll meet you for a late lunch at Domino’s and take you along to the house this afternoon.’

‘Don’t I have to see Mr Butler?’

‘No, dear. Mr Butler is in court this morning, but in any case, he’s happy to leave this sort of thing to me. He’ll be in the office after lunch if there’s anything you want to ask him. Do you know, I’m trying to think who you remind me of . . . you have dark hair and yet your eyes are blue . . . no, it escapes me. Wait . . . I know – the red coat . . . Scarlet O’Hara, that’s it! Or I should say, Vivien Leigh. Has anyone ever told you, you look like the film star Vivien Leigh?’

Kay smiled. ‘No, not Vivien Leigh.’

‘You say that as though there is someone else you remind people of.’

‘Not people. Just one person in particular.’

‘Who, then?’

‘Miss Gulch.’

Miss Davies frowned. ‘A film star?’

‘A character in a film.’

‘A well-known film?’

‘Very.’

The secretary’s eyes widened as light dawned. ‘
The Wizard of Oz
! Miss Gulch, the Wicked Witch of the West! How cruel. You don’t look anything like her and—’

‘My face isn’t green!’

Kay laughed and Miss Davies looked at her uncomprehendingly. ‘Whoever it was, was teasing you, yes?’

‘Yes. And she’s a very dear friend.’

‘How can she be when she thinks you look like Miss Gulch?’

‘She doesn’t think I look like her. It’s the shop’s bicycle. The way I ride the bicycle when I’m in a hurry. I’m sorry; it isn’t a bit funny if you don’t know the circumstances.’ To her dismay Kay felt her laughter turn to tears.

‘No, dear, it isn’t. Do you need this?’

Miss Davies opened a drawer in the desk and took out a clean white handkerchief. She held it out but Kay shook her head.

‘No, it’s all right. I’ve got one in my handbag . . . somewhere.’ Kay fumbled in her shoulder bag, and as she encountered biscuit crumbs and torn grocery lists she wished that either she had cleaned it out, or better still, bought a new bag to match her new shoes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said as she dabbed at her eyes and wondered whether the mascara she had applied so hastily that morning was holding up to the challenge.

‘Don’t worry, Kay. May I call you Kay?’

‘Please do.’

‘And you must call me Moira. I remember when I first left home and came up to London. I was only seventeen and I’d never been away from home before.’ Miss Davies sat back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment, lost in thought. Then, suddenly, she opened her eyes and stood up. ‘Here you are,’ she said, holding out a piece of paper. ‘I’ve drawn you a little map to show you how to get to Brook Lodge. They’re expecting you. I’ll meet you at Domino’s. I’ve marked it on the map – you’ll pass it on the way to the guest house.’

Kay took the map and was disconcerted to see how quickly Miss Davies got back to work. She felt as though she had been in to see the headmistress and had now been dismissed. For a short while she had been bathed in friendship and made to feel welcome, but now it was as though a light had been turned off and she was alone in the cold and dark again.

Don’t be so melodramatic
, she told herself crossly as she manoeuvred the heavy suitcase down the narrow stairway, trying not to bang her shins.
I chose to come to London. I could have stayed at home and simply let Mr Butler deal with everything, although his way of dealing with it would probably have been to hand everything over to Miss Davies
. The thought made Kay smile. Once outside, she found the warm tea had fortified her against the cold, and her heart lifted when she saw the frost sparkling cheerily on the pavements.

Brook Lodge was pretty much what Kay had expected: a respectable Edwardian family home which at some time had been converted into a guest house. It was like one of the smarter guest houses at home in Northridge Bay. The tiny black-clad woman behind the reception desk welcomed her, introduced herself as Mamie Price, and then looked at Kay appraisingly.

‘Nice coat, dear,’ she said. ‘I like those pleats in the back. Dior New Look, is it?’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘Buy it here in London, did you?’

‘No, at home in Newcastle.’

The woman raised her eyebrows. ‘In Newcastle? Well, well.’

‘We have some very good shops there,’ loyalty prompted Kay to say.

‘Well, well,’ the woman repeated and shook her head as if astonished. ‘Now, here’s your keys. One for the front door, one for your room. First-floor back overlooking the garden and no traffic noise – although I must say this is a very quiet street.’

She seemed to be waiting for some sort of response so Kay said, ‘I’m sure it is.’

‘Got your ration book, have you?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Kay rummaged in her shoulder bag again. ‘Here you are.’

‘That Miss Davies didn’t know how long you’d be staying.’ She put her head on one side like a little bright-eyed bird while she waited for an answer.

‘That’s right. I’m afraid I can’t tell you yet.’

‘Business or holiday?’

Taken aback by the question, Kay said, ‘Business, I suppose. But, if you don’t mind, I’m a little tired and I’d like to go up to my room now.’

Mamie Price looked disappointed. ‘’Fraid there’s no one to help you with that case.’ She paused. ‘Maybe the two of us together …?’

‘No. Really. Thank you but I can manage.’

Kay slung the strap of her handbag over her shoulder, grabbed the handle of her case and headed towards the staircase. Then, trying not to show what an effort it was, she made her escape. She decided she liked Mamie Price, but right now she was desperately tired, and rather than gossip with this pert little woman all she wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep.

The room had a washbasin with a mirror above and was attractively decorated with floral wallpaper. Kay looked at her wristwatch and saw that she had just over three hours before she had to meet Miss Davies at the restaurant. She stripped down to her underwear and tentatively lifted back the eiderdown and blankets on the bed. The sheets and pillow cases were clean and smelled of lavender. Before getting into bed, she set the alarm on the small travel clock Miss Bennet had given her as a parting gift and placed it on the bedside table.

Vaguely aware of an ache behind her eyes, she lay down and tried to sleep. But she found she couldn’t relax, and the thoughts chased round and round in her head as she recalled the conversation she’d had with her mother the day before.

It was early morning and her mother had come in with a cup of tea. ‘We’d better talk,’ Thelma announced.

‘Oh, Mum, now?’ Kay struggled to sit up, gave in, and collapsed back amongst the pillows.

‘Yes, now, Kay. You’re off to London tonight and there are things we have to sort out.’

Resignedly, Kay sat up and took a sip of tea. Her mother turned and looked at the coat hanging from the top of the wardrobe door. ‘Very nice,’ she said. ‘Did you enjoy your shopping trip?’

‘Yes.’

‘I wonder why you didn’t think to take Julie. She would have liked a day in town.’

‘Are you hinting that I should have bought Julie a coat?’

‘Yes, I am. Or at least a nice costume. A little pleated skirt and a fitted jacket. That would do very nicely when she goes for job interviews, wouldn’t it?’

‘So Julie still intends to find a job when she leaves college, does she?’

Kay’s tone was sharper than she intended and her mother snapped, ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Exactly what I say. I’ve agreed to buy you a house and to give Julie two hundred pounds as you suggested.’

‘Two hundred pounds is hardly a fortune, is it?’

‘But maybe it’s more than enough for her to buy her own clothes.’

‘I can see it’s no use arguing with you, Kay. Have you finished your tea?’

Her mother picked up the cup which Kay had placed on her bedside table and started to walk towards the door.

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