A Time of Peace (7 page)

It had taken Kate two days to pluck up the courage to ask Andrew Stevenson for some time off, but all he'd done was tell her she wasn't entitled to any yet.

She wandered back to the darkroom, sat on a stool and stared gloomily at Pete. ‘The Chief won't let me have any holiday yet,' Kate grumbled.

It was the middle of September and she was still taking fashion photos. It didn't look as if he was ever going to give her anything interesting to do. She'd been patient and willing to do the work with a smile on her face, but if she didn't get taken off it soon she'd explode. Watching models glide along showing clothes no one in their right mind would wear seemed pointless to her. She'd never been very fashion conscious and she was even less so now, even though trendy shops were springing up all over London. Youngsters with more money in their pockets were eager for anything new. Beth's skirts were getting shorter every time she saw her. She had teased her friend, saying that she was embarrassed to go out with her, but Beth had only laughed, hitched her skirt higher and told her she was too old-fashioned.

Pete gave her a sympathetic look. ‘I'd let you have some of mine if I could, but the Chief would never let me do that.'

She smiled at him. ‘I wouldn't take it from you, even if I could. You need your holiday, Pete. Haven't you got
a girlfriend you can take out for the day now and again?'

‘I haven't got time for that,' he laughed. ‘I want to be as good a photographer as you one day.'

Kate didn't doubt that he would be quite soon. He'd been an enthusiastic student from the beginning, with a real flair for photography. They had a good working partnership now, and her respect for him grew and grew.

Just then there was a sharp rap on the door and Terry came in.

‘Are my prints ready, Kate?'

‘Yes. You've taken some really terrific ones.' She handed him the photos. ‘Pete's done a first-class job with them.'

He shuffled through them and gave the boy a slight smile. ‘You're getting good at this.'

‘Thank you, sir.'

The bellow that came from outside was so loud it penetrated their room. Kate looked at the photographer in amusement. ‘The Chief's calling for you.'

Terry sat on a stool. ‘Well, I don't want to be found. He's looking for someone to go out to the Congo in a week's time to assist Jon Devlin, and I bloody well don't want to go!'

Kate knew Terry had only been married about six months, and she could understand his reluctance to leave his new wife.

‘Tell the Chief you don't want to go,' she suggested.

The look he gave her was incredulous.

‘Perhaps not,' she conceded. Andrew Stevenson ruled the paper and its employees like a dictator. If you valued your job, you didn't argue with him. Still … Kate chewed her lip and came to an unusually hasty decision. ‘I'll go
and volunteer for the job,' she announced, and was on her way before Terry could stop her.

Andrew didn't have anyone with him, so she knocked on the open door and waited for him to look up.

‘Yes?'

She stepped inside and took a steadying breath. ‘I understand you're looking for a photographer to go out to the Congo. I'd like to do the job.'

The Chief glared at her. ‘Terry's going.'

‘I know he would be your first choice, but I'm willing to go in his place.'

There was a tense silence, broken only by the tap of his pencil on the desk. Kate understood that this had been a foolhardy thing to do, but she was never going to get anywhere if she didn't start being more assertive. And she really wasn't prepared to take much more of his rudeness.

Andrew tossed the pencil down. ‘Get out of here before I lose my temper!'

For some reason her feet wouldn't move, but her mouth did. ‘I'm quite capable of doing the job.'

He surged out of his chair. ‘What gave you the idea that you could work in a dangerous place like the Congo?'

‘I'd like the chance to do – ' The thunderous expression on his face stopped her in mid sentence.

‘I wouldn't dream of sending a woman. Especially you. Haven't you heard that a car was fired on, killing two innocent people? So stop wasting my time,' he snapped. ‘And send Terry in here. I know he's hiding in the darkroom.'

Kate kept her head high. The remark, ‘especially you', had made her position clear. He obviously had a low
opinion of her and would never let her do anything but photograph models. What she couldn't understand was why he had employed her in the first place. There were plenty of competent photographers around who could do this kind of work. She needed something more challenging. She was wasting her time here. That realization hurt. This was the best newspaper on the market, and she'd worked hard to become a part of it. She'd never settled for second best in her life, but it looked as if she was going to have to now. And she was damned if she was going to put up with him any more. She wanted some answers.

‘Tell me, Mr Stevenson, you obviously think I'm not any good, so why did you employ me?'

‘Because I didn't have a choice,' he shot at her. ‘You were foisted on me.'

Kate was stunned. What on earth did he mean by that?

‘You have friends in high places.' He gave her a contemptuous glance. ‘And you may not understand this, but I don't particularly like being told who to employ!'

She was angry now, but relieved in some way that she now had a reason for his hostility towards her. ‘I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, but if you object to me so much, why don't you just sack me?'

‘Because I can't!' He was shouting in frustration now. ‘I bloody well can't get rid of you.' He leant towards her and moderated his tone. ‘If you don't like the way you're treated here, then you can always give in your notice. That's the only way I can see the back of you!'

Oh, no, thought Kate, all her stubbornness coming into force. So he'd been treating her like dirt to make her
leave. Well, he was wasting his time, because she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. She glared at him, spun on her heel and stormed out of the office.

Terry and Pete were waiting anxiously for her when she reached the sanctuary of her darkroom.

‘I'm sorry,' she told the photographer, ‘I tried but it's hopeless. The Chief believes I'm incapable of doing anything responsible.' It was a bitter disappointment and one she couldn't hide as her dark eyes glittered with anger. She was deeply hurt to find out that someone had ordered Andrew Stevenson to give her the job. Who the hell could that be? But the realization that she hadn't won this job on her own merit as a photographer was like a needle piercing her heart. It was damned painful.

Terry squeezed her shoulder. ‘Thanks for trying. I've got a week to see if I can find someone else to take my place.'

‘Do you think you'll be able to?'

‘I'll have a damned good try,' he muttered.

Kate gave him a rueful smile as Andrew Stevenson bellowed again. ‘The Chief's getting impatient.'

‘He's never anything else.' Terry walked away looking despondent.

‘Terry,' Kate called after him, ‘remember to duck.'

He gave a reluctant smile. ‘If it gets rough, I'll spend my time flat on my face. They'll only get photographs of people's knees.'

‘It's a pity we can't go out there together, Kate. We'd do a good job for the Chief,' Pete said when Terry had left.

‘I know we would. You ought to have a camera of your own. It's amazing how much you've learnt already.'

Pete accepted the compliment with obvious pride. ‘We make a good team.'

‘We certainly do.' Kate pulled a camera out of the cupboard and handed it to him. ‘This is the camera I used at college. You can have it now.'

Pete looked as if all his birthdays had come at once. He caressed the camera. ‘Gosh, do you mean it?'

‘Yes, and as you improve we'll see about putting a portfolio together for you.'

He tore his eyes away from his precious gift and frowned. ‘Why do I need that?'

‘So you can show it to editors when you go for a job as a photographer.'

Pete gave her a nervous grin. ‘Do you think I could one day?'

‘I wouldn't lie to you, Pete.' Some of the hurt she was feeling from the Chief's scathing words lifted when she saw the look of happiness on his face.

On the way home her natural optimism reasserted itself. There were always setbacks in life, and this one had made her more determined to succeed. She might have to change course and drop her cherished plans. It would need a great deal of thought, though, as she never made hasty decisions. And she wasn't going to lose her temper and play right into Andrew Stevenson's hands, even if the knowledge that he'd been ordered to give her the job was sitting like a lead weight in her stomach.

As it was Saturday, Kate didn't get up until ten. She'd had a restless night and only dropped off to sleep when the birds started to sing outside her window. She felt heavy-eyed and no nearer to deciding the best way to go, but
she recognized that that was probably her stubborn nature unwilling to let go of the job she had longed for. When she got downstairs, she found her mother alone in the kitchen with a cup of tea in front of her, completely absorbed in a book. She couldn't remember a time in this house when a book wasn't within easy reach. Her mother still had an insatiable appetite for knowledge.

Rose looked up and smiled at her daughter. ‘I thought you were going to stay in bed all morning. Do you want some breakfast?'

‘Just tea, please.' Kate sat opposite her mother at the large kitchen table. ‘Where's Dad?' she asked.

‘He's taken the car to the garage. He said it's developed a rattle and it's driving him mad.' Her mother gave her a penetrating look. ‘Are you all right?'

Kate pulled a face. ‘Things aren't going well, Mum. Can I talk it over with you?'

‘Of course.' Rose closed her book and poured her a cup of tea.

Kate started to tell her about her disappointment that the job on the paper wasn't working out. ‘I don't want to do anything rash just because things aren't going the way I planned,' she told her mother.

‘What do you really want to do in your career? I know you love photography, but I think you have specific plans you've never discussed with us.'

Kate sipped her tea and gazed at her mother over the rim of the cup. ‘I've never talked about it because I might be aiming too high, but I'd just love the chance to work abroad and do something useful. Words are all very well, Mum, but pictures can bring a situation to life.' She
pulled a face. ‘I was fooling myself because it isn't going to happen.'

‘Why?'

‘The Chief doesn't think it's a woman's job.'

‘Rubbish!' Rose sat back and studied her daughter. ‘It wasn't considered a woman's job when I became a solicitor.'

‘I know. This is supposed to be the age of liberation, but it doesn't seem as if things have changed all that much over the years.' Kate stirred her tea and watched it swirl in the cup. ‘There's still a lot of prejudice against a woman taking on a man's job.'

‘Then convince them they're wrong,' her mother told her firmly.

Kate looked up when she heard the vehemence in her mother's voice. ‘If I kick up too much fuss, I'll get the sack.'

Rose's dark eyes smouldered. ‘I rolled up my sleeves and fought every step of the way for what I thought was right, and still do. I took the knocks and disappointments in my stride and carried on, no matter what anyone thought about me. I hurt a lot of people along the way, and I'm sorry about that, but nothing stopped me.'

‘Are you saying that I should stay at the paper and try to get them to give me a more responsible job?'

‘No, I'm not suggesting that.' Her mother shook her head. ‘This is your life and you must do what you feel is right, but if you think you're wasting your time there, then move on. Find another way. Don't give up your ambition and don't believe it depends on a particular paper. It doesn't. It depends on
you
, what you have inside you and how determined you are. When I was a young
girl I believed that because I came from the slums of London, all doors to a better education and life were closed to me.' Rose's eyes took on a faraway look. ‘I tried to kick open those doors, but do you know, Kate, they were open all the time and I just didn't see it. What I'm trying to say is that if the route you've planned seems blocked, then turn aside and find another door, for I'm sure there is one just waiting for you to step through.'

Kate had been holding her breath as she listened to her mother's impassioned words. She breathed out as her thoughts cleared. Of course, she had been approaching this in entirely the wrong way. She'd pushed her practical nature aside and been weaving dreams.