Sing as We Go (9 page)

And now here was a complete stranger asking questions she’d no right to ask. Kathy had been in danger of cowering before the stranger, subsiding under the woman’s scrutiny.

Suddenly, the old Kathy – the Kathy who’d walked out of her home, had come to the big city, determined to start a new life and to stand on her own two feet – was back. She quelled the sudden tremor of apprehension, and now, instead of shrinking, she met the woman’s gaze squarely. Slowly she let out the breath she’d been holding and said quietly, keeping her tone respectful, ‘What gives you the right to ask me?’

For a moment the woman blinked and then smiled. ‘Nothing, my dear, except that I don’t want to see a nice young girl taken in by him and hurt like so many others before you.’

Kathy gasped. ‘So many others . . . ?’ she began.

The woman’s wry smile had a tinge of sadness too. ‘I’m afraid so. And I should know, because I was one of them.’

Kathy glanced swiftly at the man across the room. He was still watching them.

‘But I’ve been lucky,’ the woman went on. ‘I’ve met a wonderful man – a lovely man – who adores me and whom I love very much. But I have to tell you, my dear, that three years ago Tony Kendall broke my heart – and I wasn’t the only one. I saw you come in with him and – forgive me – I’ve been watching you.’ She smiled sadly, knowingly. ‘The moment I saw the head waiter approach your table, I knew.’

‘Knew?’ Kathy snapped. ‘Knew what?’

‘That it was the same old routine.’

‘Routine?’ Kathy repeated stupidly. ‘What d’you mean?’

The woman sighed. ‘I think he must have some arrangement with the head waiter. He must give him some sort of signal that he wants to escape. It’s his way of ending an affair—’

‘Affair? This isn’t an affair,’ Kathy said impulsively. ‘It’s only the first time he’s asked me out. How can he want to end it now? So soon?’

The stranger’s smile was sympathetic. ‘My dear, you have a lot to learn about men, I can see. And about Tony Kendall’s sort in particular.’

‘His –
sort
?’

‘He’s a philanderer. A heartbreaker. He’ll pick you up and drop you just as quickly if he decides you don’t – ’ she paused and added pointedly – ‘suit.’

‘You’re wrong,’ Kathy was stung to retort. ‘I know you’re wrong. His mother was taken ill. He had to go . . .’Her voice trailed away as the woman’s knowing expression didn’t change. She sighed as she rose and, looking down at Kathy with what seemed like genuine concern, said softly, ‘Like I say – the same old routine.’

Nine

Kathy walked home through the cold, dark streets, her head in a whirl, though not now with the euphoria of falling in love.

But it’s too late, she thought. I like him – I really do – and he likes me. I know he does. She’s just jealous. That’s what it is. She lost him and she can’t bear to see him with someone else. And as for all that rubbish about there being countless others – well, Kathy just didn’t believe it. And the nonsense about the ‘routine’ to rid himself of an unwanted girlfriend? She didn’t believe that either.

But a niggling thought burrowed its way into her mind. For some unaccountable reason, Miss Curtis’s distressed face was before her and the whispered words with Emily Foster were replayed in her mind.

Kathy reached the tiled passageway leading between the two terraced houses and then the gate into the back yard. Before entering the house she visited the privy across the yard. As she came out, she saw Taffy sitting in the centre of the yard, his green eyes catching the pale moonlight and shining through the darkness.

‘Hello, boy.’ Glad to have a distraction, Kathy bent and stroked the cat’s fine head. She knew he slept in the washhouse, where another hole cut in the door allowed him entry and exit whenever he wanted. How wonderful, she thought to have such freedom, and her heart quailed at the questioning she was about to face.

She braced herself mentally as she let herself into the house to find Jemima sitting in her chair by the range, a book in her lap, the wireless on the small table at one side of her playing softly.

Jemima looked up and smiled. ‘Hello. Enjoy your evening?’

Evenly, Kathy replied, ‘Yes, thank you.’ She waited, expecting more questions, but Jemima’s eyes went back to her book.

Kathy glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was half past ten. Now she understood Jemima’s lack of questions. If she’d indeed gone to the cinema with Stella, this was about the time she would have arrived home.

Jemima believed her. She’d no reason to doubt Kathy’s word, but instead of being relieved, she felt even guiltier for having lied to the woman who’d been so kind to her.

‘Can I get you anything, Aunt Jemima?’ she asked, trying to make amends, even though the woman was ignorant of the need for it.

‘No, thank you, my dear,’ Jemima murmured without raising her head.

‘Then – then I’ll say goodnight.’ As she reached the door leading to the foot of the stairs, Jemima said, ‘Oh – I almost forgot. I spoke to my neighbour, Mr Spencer.’

Kathy blinked and racked her brain. Then she remembered. ‘Oh, yes. The man who belongs to the choral society.’

‘That’s right. He said if you sing as prettily as you look, they’d be glad to welcome you to their group. You’re to go along to their meeting on Thursday evening in the school on Monks Road, just beyond the Arboretum.’

‘Yes, yes, I know it.’ Kathy’s was thinking quickly. ‘Do they meet every week?’

‘No, once a fortnight.’

Kathy smiled and nodded. She hoped that Tony Kendall would ask her out again and if he did, maybe she could suggest a Thursday evening.

Now all she said was, ‘Thank you, Aunt Jemima. I’ll certainly go along.’

As she climbed the stairs, Kathy hummed softly to herself. Not only would she be able to sing again – something she really enjoyed – but she would also have a cover story when she wanted to meet Tony in secret.

Now all she had to do, she realized, was to get Stella to back up her story about their supposed visit to the cinema together.

‘You’re a dark horse and no mistake,’ Stella teased, her hazel eyes alight with pleasure at the intrigue. ‘Hasn’t taken you long to find yourself a beau.’ She eyed Kathy speculatively. ‘Or was it someone you knew before? Is he the reason you came to the city?’

Kathy shook her head. ‘No – no. I – I’ve only met him since I’ve been here.’

Stella giggled. ‘You’re a fast worker and no mistake. Is it someone I might know?’ She gripped Kathy’s arm. ‘I bet it’s that spotty-faced lad in hardware.’

‘No, no. It’s no one you know.’ More lies. Kathy sighed. But they were necessary ones.

She didn’t see Tony Kendall at all until the Wednesday, and by this time she was feeling hurt and humiliated and almost ready to believe what the woman in the restaurant had said about him. He’d not bothered to give her one word of explanation for his hurried departure from the restaurant, leaving her feeling foolish. She so desperately wanted to ask him about the woman who’d spoken to her. Who was she? And were the things she’d said about him true?

Yet how could she ask him such personal questions on the strength of one date? And only half a one at that. Common sense told her to bide her time and wait until he made the first move.

But what had common sense ever had to do with falling in love?

For three days she worried. She tried hard to concentrate on her job and not incur Miss Curtis’s wrath. She was very afraid that, at any moment, the well-dressed woman from the restaurant would walk into the department. Whatever would she say to her if she did?

And then there was Aunt Jemima. Every evening she was on tenterhooks in case the woman asked her about the film she’d supposedly seen. But at least Stella had agreed to cover for her. The young girl, who had little social life herself, had been only too pleased to help.

‘Tell you what, though,’ she’d said. ‘We really should go to the pictures now and again. Then it won’t be a real lie, will it?’

Kathy had smiled. ‘You’re on.’

‘What about Saturday?’

‘Well . . .’ Kathy had hesitated.

‘Oh, I get it. Lover boy might ask you out again.’ Kathy’s heart had melted at the sight of Stella’s obvious disappointment.

‘No, we’ll go. Really,’ she’d said impulsively, even though she was regretting it immediately. But the pleasure on the young girl’s face was her reward. Like Kathy’s own home life had been, Stella still lived under the strict rule of her parents and only the assurance that she was out with a girlfriend from work would make them relent and allow her to visit the cinema.

On the Wednesday afternoon, just as they were laying the covers over the counters and the displays, Miss Foster came into the millinery department. ‘Excuse me, Miss Curtis. Mr Kendall has asked to see you in his office.’

Kathy glanced up and then looked away quickly, feeling the colour suffuse her face as she saw Miss Curtis follow the manager’s secretary. The minutes passed and the time for closing came and went.

‘We can’t leave till she comes back and says we can go. I hope she’s not going to be long. I’ll miss my bus.’ Stella groaned. ‘Oh, I do hope
that’s
not all starting up again.’

‘What? What do you mean?’

‘Her – and him.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Miss Curtis and him. Mr Kendall. They used to go out together. I told you before, didn’t I?’

Kathy felt as if the breath had been knocked from her body. ‘Used to – go – out together?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Stella said airily, not realizing how her gossip was a devastating blow to her new-found friend.

Kathy swallowed uncomfortably. Perhaps what the woman in the restaurant had said had been the truth. Perhaps, after all, it was not just jealousy that had made her approach Kathy. Perhaps her concern had been genuine. Kathy opened her mouth to probe further, but at that moment Stella’s face brightened and Kathy glanced over her shoulder to see Miss Curtis returning. As she walked towards them she glanced around her, checking the counters and the displays. ‘Is everything done?’

‘Yes, Miss Curtis,’ Stella said.

‘Then you may go, Miss Matthews, but as for you, Miss Burton . . . Mr Kendall wishes to see you.’

Kathy’s heart skipped a beat, but she managed to say calmly, ‘Thank you, Miss Curtis. Goodnight.’

‘I shan’t be leaving until you come back.’ The woman’s face was expressionless as Kathy turned away and made her way to the manager’s office. As she entered the outer office, Miss Foster was covering her black typewriter.

‘Go straight in, dear. He’s waiting for you.’

Kathy tapped lightly on the door leading into the inner office and went in.

At once Tony rose from behind his desk. ‘Ah Miss Burton, do come in.’

As soon as the door was closed behind her, he whispered, ‘Has she gone?’

‘Who?’

‘Miss Foster?’

‘I think she’s just about to leave. She’s tidying her desk.’

He came round the desk and took her hands in his. ‘Kathy, I’m so, so sorry about the other night.’

‘It’s all right,’ she said breathlessly, gazing up into his dark brown eyes and feeling as if her legs were going to give way beneath her. ‘How – how is your mother?’

He gave a wry smile. ‘She’s all right. She’s an invalid and this sort of thing often happens, I’m sorry to say. And I’m sorry that I haven’t had a chance to explain before today. I’ve been racking my brains to think of an excuse to send for you.’ His smile broadened. ‘And then I remembered, I hadn’t officially confirmed your appointment. So now I have. I had to send for Miss Curtis to go through the procedure correctly. She says you’re proving satisfactory, though she says you seem a little dreamy at times.’ He chuckled. ‘I couldn’t very well tell her that that was probably my fault.’ He squeezed her hands and added softly, ‘At least, I hope you were thinking of me.’

Guilelessly, Kathy nodded. ‘I was.’

They stood gazing at each other before she said, ‘I’ll have to go. She’s waiting for me to get back before she leaves.’

‘Oh, damn!’ he muttered. ‘I thought we might snatch a few moments alone. Look, what about Saturday night? Will you meet me again? We’ll go to the cinema. My mother won’t be able to get hold of me there.’

‘Well, yes, but if she’s ill and needs you . . .’

‘My father will be at home this week. He works shifts and last week he was working nights. Mother was on her own, but she won’t be this weekend. So, what do you say? Please say yes,’ he added with that sudden boyish charm that bowled her over.

Forgetting the warning words of the stranger and without a thought of the promise she’d made to Stella, Kathy heard herself saying, ‘Yes, of course I will.’

Kathy steeled her heart against the hurt look on Stella’s face. ‘We’ll go next Wednesday instead,’ she promised, trying to lessen the disappointment.

Stella shook her head. ‘I can’t. My dad won’t let me go out in the week. Saturday’s the only night he might have let me. Says I need my sleep to be fit for work. No gallivanting in the week, as he calls it.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Still there’s always another week. Unless, of course, lover boy’s going to take you out every Saturday night.’

‘Well—’ Kathy hesitated. She’d been about to promise rashly that she would refuse one week and the two girls would go together, but her romance with Tony was so new and vulnerable. She didn’t know how serious he was and she didn’t want to give him the impression she wasn’t interested in him. Far from it!

Lamely she said, ‘If he doesn’t ask me every week, we’ll certainly go out together.’

‘And I suppose I’m still expected to keep all this a secret and cover for you?’

‘Do – do you mind?’ Kathy pleaded.

Stella regarded her for a moment and then she smiled. ‘Only if you promise me one thing. If I ever get a boyfriend, you’ll do the same for me.’

Now Kathy could say willingly, ‘Of course.’

On Thursday evening, Kathy went to the meeting of the choral society as Jemima had arranged for her. Mr Spencer, who was also the conductor, welcomed her warmly, but she was dismayed to see that most of the members were more Jemima’s generation. There was no one of her own age at all.