Kitty's Countryside Dream (21 page)

W
aking
up with Tom's arms tightly wrapped around me, I glanced at the clock. It was only 3.30 a.m. yet I felt like I'd been sleeping for hours. Tom was fast asleep, and I smiled to myself while I watched him for a further few moments.

I closed my eyes but I knew there was no chance of me returning to my slumber anytime soon. Lying next to Tom I felt so content, so safe – the happiest girl on the planet.

Ten minutes later I was still wide awake. Gently removing Tom's arm from around my body, I slipped silently out of bed. I pulled on my jeans and top and quietly padded into the kitchen. Maybe a hot drink would help me to sleep. I closed the kitchen door while the kettle was boiling so the sound wouldn't wake Tom. Settling down on the settee with my mug of tea, I picked up Violet's diary, which was lying on the table.

‘Hey, what are you doing?'

I swung round to find Tom leaning against the doorway.

‘I woke up and you were gone. What time is it?' he asked softly.

‘It's 3.30 a.m.'

‘Kitty, that's way too early – even for me.'

I smiled at him. ‘I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd grab a drink and read for a little while to see if that helped.'

‘You're dressed – are you running out on me?'

I laughed. ‘Don't be daft! This is my house – where would I run to?'

‘What are you reading?'

I hesitated and looked up at his face. The moment felt right to share my secret with Tom. ‘It's not just any old book, it's a diary.'

‘Whose? Yours?'

‘No, not mine. Aunt Violet's.'

Tom look confused. He came and settled on the settee next to me.

‘Where did you get that from?'

‘The safe.'

‘Come again?'

I paused. He waited patiently for my reply.

There was no point lying to Tom; I didn't need to hide the fact that I'd cracked the code of the safe in the office. OK, maybe I should have mentioned it sooner, but I wanted time to read and discover its contents by myself.

‘The safe from the office at the Lodge.'

‘You cracked the code? How did you do that? Please tell me you aren't secretly a bank robber?' He laughed.

‘Of course I'm not; to be honest it was quite simple.'

‘Cracking a code to a safe is simple? Tell me more.' Tom pulled me in tightly and I rested my head against his chest.

‘The numbers on the front of the safe—' I looked up and met his gaze.

Tom nodded, willing me to carry on.

‘I stared at them for a while. I had a few random attempts but I knew, I just knew, when some of the numbers were more worn out than others: the combination had to be those four numbers.'

‘Which were?'

‘Zero, one, five, seven.'

‘It was as simple as that?'

‘Well nearly – they needed rearranging first to one, five, zero and seven.'

Tom hesitated and stared at me, puzzled. ‘Those are the same numbers as the combination code to the lock on the gate, the one at the bottom of the drive leading up to the Lodge.'

I nodded. ‘Yes, I know.'

‘It wouldn't even have crossed my mind to try that sequence only because the safe has been there for years and the combination to the lock didn't exist until just before Agnes passed away. It had always been a padlock with a key but unfortunately I lost the key and we used bolt cutters to free the chain. It was only then Agnes changed it to a lock with a combination. What a coincidence!'

‘There's another coincidence – 1507. That's the fifteenth day of the seventh month, i.e. 15 July, which is my birthday,' I butted in.

‘Wow.'

‘There's more.'

‘What do you mean?' Tom asked, intrigued.

I hesitated. Once I'd told Tom what I'd discovered about Aunt Violet and Jeannie and Robin's father there was no going back, but it was time to tell him everything.

‘According to the diary, it's more than likely that my sixteen-year-old aunt had an affair.'

Tom looked at me; his eyes were wide.

‘An affair? Who with?'

‘This is the part where you have to promise not to say a word. I'm trusting you, Tom.'

‘Go on.'

‘With Ted.'

‘No. I can't believe that. Ted's been traumatised for years over the death of Bea; surely you've got that wrong.'

I shook my head.

‘Here, have a look through while I make you a drink,' I said, handing him the diary and stealing a quick kiss on the lips. ‘It makes for interesting reading.'

Walking into the kitchen, I discovered Alfie too was now wide awake and sitting patiently by his bowl. I bent down and scooped him up in my arms. ‘It's not breakfast time yet,' I whispered softly. Alfie purred and I couldn't resist pouring a few cat biscuits into his bowl. ‘Maybe having something to eat will help you sleep too.'

‘Shall we take the drinks back to bed?' I asked, drifting back into the living room.

Tom was still sitting on the settee flicking frantically from one page to another of the diary.

He glanced up and I could see the panic in his eyes.

Instantly I knew something was wrong.

‘Tom, what is it?'

‘Kitty, you need to see this,' he said, thrusting the diary in to my hand

‘See what? You're frightening me now, Tom. What is it?'

‘The entries for July 1961.'

‘What about them?'

‘I think you need to read for yourself, Kitty.' He kissed me lightly on my lips and cupped both his hands around my face. He stared me straight in the eyes. ‘I think we'll need something stronger to drink.' Tom passed me the diary and I settled on the settee next to him.

Since finding the diary I'd been reading it in chronological order. I'd only got to December. My hands were shaking as I opened the diary and scanned the pages in search of July.

1
July 1961

I
couldn't have made
it through the past six months without Ethel; she's been my rock. If our calculations are correct, it could happen anytime now – it's just a waiting game. I'm scared witless. I have no idea what to expect and soon the whole world will know. There's nothing we can do except wait.

2
July 1961

A
fter work today
Ethel and I visited the library. The librarian was watching us like a hawk. We weren't members and there was no way we were going to join today. The librarian knew my mother from the reading group she attends on a Monday and if we borrowed the types of books we needed, my mum would surely find out and then there would be questions, too many questions. I distracted the librarian while Ethel smuggled a couple of the more factual books under her jumper. We weren't necessarily stealing the books; we were going to return them once we'd found out what we needed to.

3
July 1961

E
thel came round after tea
. Mum tutted when she opened the door and made a sarcastic comment: ‘We may as well get her a key cut the amount of times she's here'. Ethel has come round every night for the past six months, since we found out. She's no longer stepping out with George. That is entirely my fault. I feel dreadful but Ethel has assured me it's OK and that I have enough to worry about. George was unhappy about the amount of time Ethel was spending with me – who can blame him? – but as far as she's concerned no man will ever come before her best friend – especially when she's the only one who knows my secret.

Tonight we locked ourselves in my bedroom; we wedged a chair under the door handle so no one could enter the room. Once we were certain no one was going to barge in Ethel removed the books from her bag. We sat next to each other on the bed, staring at the pages in disbelief – the images were so graphic. I began to sob and I told Ethel I didn't think I could do it; I didn't want to do it. But I didn't have a choice; it was all too late.

Ethel squeezed my hand and told me she would never leave me.

4
July 1961

I
've had
the worst sleep ever; I tossed and turned all night. I couldn't get comfy. I managed to get out of work today; Mum and Dad think I'm looking peaky and ordered me to stay in bed. That suited me down to the ground. I slept for most of the day and only woke up when Ethel appeared at my bedside. Ethel thinks we need to come up with a plan. I'm not sure how a plan is going to help us at such a late stage. My only plan is hoping I get out of this alive. Ethel suggested we confide in Alice. I don't think that's a good idea because she will certainly share the information with Julian and no doubt with Mum. Things have been so strained with Alice since the incident before Christmas.

5
July 1961

I
am exhausted
. I've managed to take another day off work. Mum and Dad have advertised for farm help. I'm relieved about that but I can't tell them why.

6
July 1961

E
thel appeared tonight with a holdall
. It is her father's; she said he wouldn't notice that it had disappeared because it's been stored in the back of the wardrobe for as long as she can remember. Ethel said we need to store the bag in a safe place and make sure it's packed with the relevant items. I didn't have a clue what she meant by ‘the relevant items' but she'd made me a checklist that she'd copied from one of the library books we'd borrowed. Ethel thinks of everything. We looked down the list together. Some of the items we could muster up: a nightie, washbag and towel. Other items would prove a little more difficult but Ethel said she'd seen a couple of items in the local charity shop's window so she would purchase them tomorrow after work.

7
July 1961

E
thel is
a diamond – she's managed to collect every item on the list. We stuffed it all in the holdall and hid the bag back under the bed. We waited and waited some more. Nothing was happening tonight but it most definitely had to happen very soon.

8
July 1961

D
ad made
a remark this evening around the dinner table that made my mum look up and stare. She was placing our food down on the table when Dad suggested that she give me a smaller portion. She asked him why she would want to do that. He replied that I was getting a bit tubby and the pounds were creeping on. Mum eyed me up and down and made a comment that no wonder I look like I've put weight on because the baggy clothes that I was wearing don't do me any favours. Actually I've put about two and a half stone on and I think I've done a fantastic job keeping it under wraps.

I
gasped
and looked up at Tom, who was reading the diary over my shoulder.

‘Are you thinking what I'm thinking?' I asked him.

‘Yes, I think Violet is pregnant.'

‘And nobody knew except for Ethel?'

‘It certainly appears that way.'

‘The poor girl,' was the only response I could muster.

Tom put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed me gently. I snuggled into his chest. We carried on reading.

9
July 1961

W
e are waiting
.

1
0 July 1961

A
nd still we wait
.

1
1 July 1961

M
aybe we've got
this all wrong.

1
2 July 1961

N
othing as yet
.

1
3 July 1961

C
an't put
my finger on it but I feel kind of strange today.

1
4 July 1961

I
'm writing
this to keep my mind off it. As usual Ethel came round after work. She teased me, laughing at the state of my bedroom – it was spotless. She'd never seen it so clean and tidy. I don't know what had come over me; I like living in clutter but not today. Ethel claimed it was a nesting instinct. Standing up to go and get Ethel and I a drink, I heard a pop and felt a weird sensation from within followed by an immediate gush of very warm fluid, which soaked through my pants. The fluid began to trickle down my legs. I started to have lower-back pain and a dull ache. Ethel and I stared at each other. I sat back down on the bed, holding onto my bump. The dull ache became worse, followed by a tightening across my stomach; it became so tight I couldn't breathe. Ethel reached under the bed for the holdall. I have no idea what she thought we needed from there but the books said we needed it. This was it, Ethel was by my side and the baby was coming. The pain became too much to bear and I began to scream. We heard a barrage of footsteps running up the stairs. I was scared.

A
s I read
the diary entry, the tears were free falling down my cheeks. Tom leant over to grab me a tissue from the box on the table. I didn't have a good feeling about this; in fact the gut-wrenching emotion that was gripping my body told me that what I would read next was going to change my life. Tom held me tight.

‘Are you OK?' he asked gently.

Our eyes met briefly before I wiped the tears away. I shook my head and swallowed. I couldn't speak.

‘This isn't going to change who you are. You're beautiful inside and out, and I love you.' He kissed my tears.

Hearing Tom say those words should have been one of the happiest moments of my life but now I was petrified to read on. In my heart of hearts I knew I was about to discover Aunt Violet was no longer my aunt but my mother.