Dreaming Out Loud (3 page)

‘Meaning?’

‘You know what I mean.’ And although she was aware that Kay was hurrying along the passage towards them, she smiled flirtatiously.

Tony sighed. ‘Pack it in, Julie. You know I’m not interested.’

‘More’s the pity.’ She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe he was being so stupid, and turned to face Kay. ‘Going somewhere nice?’

Kay’s response was equable. ‘We’re going to the pictures.’

‘Ooh, can I come with you?’

‘That’s up to Tony.’

Tony reached over and took the umbrella from Kay. He turned round to put it up. ‘Then the answer is no.’

Julie pouted. ‘Rotten spoilsports.’

‘In any case, your tea’s ready,’ Kay told her.

‘Come on, Kay,’ Tony said. ‘There’s bound to be a queue, and I don’t fancy standing for too long in this weather.’

‘Bye, then,’ Julie said.

Ignoring her, Tony took Kay’s arm and hurried her down the path and out of the gate. Kay must have sensed his irritation.

‘Don’t be cross with her,’ she said. ‘She just likes to tease.’

‘I know, but she’s not a kid any more. She’s in her last year at college and old enough to know better.’

Tony was surprised that the usually perspicacious Kay could not see that Julie’s teasing was far from innocent. He supposed that Kay, being so thoroughly decent herself, could not imagine that her younger sister was trying to steal her boyfriend.

Am I her boyfriend?
he mused. Everyone seemed to think so. He loved being with her; she was attractive, well-spoken, intelligent and self-confident. Maybe that was the problem. When he had come home from the war, he had dreamed of domestic bliss, of settling down with a more compliant kind of girl. Someone who would accept that he was the senior partner in the marriage. Kay would never do that; she would see herself as an equal partner, and much as he cared for her, he wasn’t sure if he could accept that.

When they reached the Essoldo, the queue was round the block. Even people without umbrellas were willing to wait in the rain to see
The Glass Mountain
.

‘What do you think?’ Tony asked. ‘It doesn’t look as if we’ll get in in time to see much of the second feature.’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ Kay replied. ‘I don’t mind, if you don’t.’

‘We might have more luck at the Playhouse. They’re showing
The Interrupted Journey
. Apparently it’s a great movie, but for some reason not quite as popular as
The Glass Mountain
.

Tony smiled down at her and Kay was reminded of how handsome he was. Tall and broad-shouldered, with fair hair and grey eyes, he looked every inch the sort of man an officer in the RAF – fondly known as the Brylcreem Boys – would be. Somehow she had forgotten this during the last few days of wondering what she should do. Not that being handsome should have anything to do with her decision. Tony Chalmers was considerate and kind, and during his wartime service as a flying officer he had been truly brave.

Kay wasn’t quite sure why he had chosen her, nor, having done so, why he had never seemed to want to take their relationship further. He had told her he loved her often enough but had never proposed to her. Kay had a sneaking feeling it might be something to do with his parents. After all, the Chalmers were further up the social scale than the Lockwoods. Perhaps they didn’t want their only son to marry the daughter of a seaside landlady.

She hoped she was wrong about this, but then if she was, why was Tony waiting? It was this puzzling state of affairs that made Kay unwilling to tell Tony about her inheritance.

‘Kay? Sorry to hurry you, but it’s raining harder than ever. Do we stay here, huddled under your umbrella, or do we make a dash for the Playhouse? As far as the film is concerned, it’s a choice between a plane crash or a train crash. What do you think?’

‘Oh, the train crash.’

‘Righto. Grab my arm.’

The way Tony guided her through the wet streets would have looked normal to any passer-by. Only Kay realised he was giving her extra support because of her limp.

Tony bought tickets for the circle, and as they settled into their seats just before the film started, Kay imagined she could see the steam rising from the stalls below as people’s coats dried off in the comforting warmth. She and Tony wriggled out of their coats and slipped them over the seat backs, then Tony reached for her hand and held it throughout the performance. He always did this, although Kay often wished he would put his arm around her.

‘Did you enjoy that?’ he asked her when the film came to an end.

‘Very much. But I thought it was a bit of a cheat to say it was all a dream.’

‘I agree.’ Tony helped her into her coat. The lights came up and Kay saw that he was looking at her quite seriously. ‘We agree about a lot of things, don’t we?’

‘I suppose so.’ Kay waited for him to say something more, but he didn’t.

The feeling of frustration when he behaved like this was becoming all too familiar. Usually when he walked her home she would invite him in for a hot drink and whatever cakes her mother had been baking. Tonight she didn’t. Far too polite to take the invitation for granted, he kissed her lightly on the forehead and walked away. Kay wondered if he was hurt – or whether he had sensed that something about their relationship had just changed.

Chapter Three

Thelma switched off the light then stood by her bedroom window and looked out into the darkened street. Soon echoing footsteps told her they were coming, and a moment later Kay and Tony entered the misty circle of light shed by a nearby street lamp. Their arms were linked.

Tony never stayed long when he brought her home – maybe half an hour at the most – and Thelma had decided to go downstairs after all, and talk to Kay the moment he had gone. The letter telling Kay of her inheritance had arrived a week ago. Surely she had made her mind up by now. Thelma reckoned she had been very patient, but that piece in the
Chronicle
today had thoroughly unsettled her, and anyway, a daughter owed it to her mother to tell her of her intentions, didn’t she?

Thelma decided to go back to bed until she heard Tony taking his leave. But just before she let the curtain fall, she saw his tall figure walk away again. It crossed her mind briefly that this was unusual, but spurred on by her determination to talk to Kay, she didn’t give it a second thought. She pulled on her robe and opened her door carefully – she didn’t want to disturb Julie – then walked quietly along the corridor and hurried downstairs.

Kay was in the kitchen warming up some milk when her mother walked in and surprised her.

‘Can’t you sleep?’ Kay asked.

‘No, and you know why.’

‘Do I?’

‘Don’t pretend you don’t . . . I mean . . . Oh, Kay . . .’ Kay watched as her mother sought to control her impatience.

She knew she was at fault and tried to make amends. ‘Would you like a hot drink?’ she asked, and when her mother pursed her lips and nodded speechlessly she added, ‘Cocoa? Ovaltine?’

‘Whatever you’re having.’

‘Cocoa it is, then. Where would you like to sit? Here at the kitchen table, or shall we see if there’s any life left in the fire in the front parlour?’

A short while later Kay put aside the cinder guard in the parlour and they pulled the armchairs closer to the hearth. Kay knew she owed her mother an apology. ‘Look, I’m sorry, Mum. I must have been trying your patience, but I truly couldn’t decide what to do.’

Thelma Lockwood’s struggle to be reasonable was visible. ‘Well, of course, such a surprise . . . so much money . . . I mean,
two thousand
pounds.’ Then her patience snapped. ‘I can’t believe she left it all to you.’

‘She was my godmother.’

‘The last time she saw you, you were eight years old!’

Kay saw the frustration and anger in her mother’s face but decided to ask the question anyway. ‘You were such good friends.’ Her mother’s look suddenly became guarded, but Kay pressed on, ‘Did you quarrel?’

There was a long silence, and Kay had almost decided that the conversation was over when her mother replied tersely, ‘No, we didn’t.’ Suddenly Thelma couldn’t meet her daughter’s eyes. ‘Kay, do you remember her at all? I mean, you were only a little girl.’

‘Yes, I remember her. She was full of fun. She was kind to Julie and me. She brought us treats.’ Kay heard her mother sniff disparagingly and hurried on. ‘She was as dark as you were fair. Father used to joke that you two were like Snow White and Rose Red in the fairy tale, remember?’

‘Your father was full of fairy tales.’

Kay was surprised by the sarcasm, but she continued. ‘He liked to tell us the story. Both little girls were beautiful, but Rose Red was outspoken and cheerful and liked to play outside, whereas Snow White was quiet and shy and preferred reading and doing housework.’

‘You remember that?’

‘Mmm. And there was a wicked dwarf and a bear who was really a prince, and I think in the end it was Snow White who married the Prince. But the two little girls loved each other very much.’ Kay glanced at her mother to find that her eyes were closed. She looked so distraught that Kay ventured, ‘You did quarrel, didn’t you?’

Her mother opened her eyes and looked at Kay thoughtfully. ‘No, nothing like that. We didn’t exactly quarrel. I don’t want to make you sad, but it was at the time your father died. Lana’s visits just stopped. It seems she wasn’t interested in the rest of us. Not even her own goddaughter.’

‘It doesn’t make sense, does it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, if she lost interest in us . . . in me, why would she leave me all this money?’

‘Just to be spiteful, I should imagine.’

‘That’s crazy. I don’t understand what you mean.’

Her mother sighed. ‘And it’s no use you ever trying to understand Lana Fontaine, believe me. So, now that she’s upset the applecart, all we have to do is decide what we’re going to do.’

‘Don’t you mean what
I
am going to do?’

Her mother’s head turned sharply towards her. ‘Oh, so it’s like that, is it?’

‘Yes, Mum. It’s like that. Ever since the letter arrived you’ve made it plain that we have to come to some sort of joint decision, and although I’ll certainly listen to what you have to say, in the end it’s up to me. That’s why I’ve been taking so long. I’m sorry.’

That’s the second time today I’ve apologised to someone for not having made a decision yet
, Kay thought.
First to Miss Bennet, who only has my interests at heart, and now to my mother, who I’m pretty sure has her own and Julie’s interests quite high on the list of priorities
.

Suddenly ashamed of the direction her thoughts had taken, Kay said impulsively, ‘Of course I’ll listen to you. I wouldn’t dream of not doing something for my mother and my sister; it’s just that I want to make my own plans.’

Her mother glanced at the clock on the mantel shelf and sighed wearily. ‘My goodness, it’s nearly midnight. You’ve got to go to work in the morning and I have to make the ladies’ breakfasts. I suppose we’d better go to bed.’

She half rose, but Kay saw her reluctance and made a gesture to stop her. ‘Stay there. I’m sure we can both stand one late night. You’ve let your drink go cold. I’ll warm it up and we’ll thrash this out. I know it’s important to you, and I admit I’ve been selfish.’

When Kay returned she also brought two slices of chocolate cake.

‘What’s this?’ Her mother looked up sharply. ‘I hope you’ve left sufficient for Julie’s lunch box.’

‘Of course I have. I wouldn’t dream of making my little sister go without.’

‘Are you being sarcastic?’

‘No, I’m being irritated. There’s quite enough for Julie unless she requires gargantuan portions. Now take your cake and let’s have a midnight feast. Wouldn’t that be cosy?’

‘I suppose so.’

Kay was taken aback by her mother’s lassitude but she decided the only thing to do was press on. ‘Go on then. Tell me what you think I should do. But don’t let that cocoa go cold again.’ She tried a cheerful smile, but it was wasted on her mother.

Thelma sipped her cocoa and took several small bites of chocolate cake. Kay guessed she was deliberately keeping her waiting, paying her back – if that wasn’t too childish a term to use for a grown woman with two grown-up daughters. When she did speak her mother sounded businesslike.

‘Two thousand pounds is a lot of money,’ she began. ‘I mean, a lot of money for one young woman. I have two daughters; Lana knew that. I consider it unfair that she should have left it all to you.’ Kay waited for her mother to go on. ‘I don’t want you to think that what I’m going to suggest is unreasonable. You must admit that over the years I’ve done the best I could for both you and Julie.’

Kay couldn’t help herself. ‘The best?’

Thelma bridled. ‘Yes, the best.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Kay said, ‘I remember. You took me away from school so that I could bring some money in to help you save up to send Julie to commercial college as soon as she was old enough. Of course, you made sure that I got a job in the best grocery shop in town.’

Thelma was silent. Was it too much to hope that she was ashamed? Apparently it was. ‘Julie showed great promise,’ she said. ‘It was obvious that she would do well.’

‘As a clerk in an office?’

‘A secretary.’

‘Of course. Whereas I . . .’

‘You were such a daydreamer. Even your friend Miss Bennet said that she wasn’t sure what your strengths would be.’

‘However, she didn’t say I was stupid or that you ought to take me away from school.’

‘I couldn’t afford to keep you on at school. I earn little enough from taking in paying guests. And most of the money you give me is for your own keep, which is only right and proper.’

‘And what about Julie’s keep?’

‘You can’t expect her to contribute when she isn’t working.’

‘Some students take Saturday jobs, not to mention working in the summer holidays. There are plenty of waitressing jobs during the holiday season.’

‘Julie has homework to do in the holidays.’

‘That doesn’t stop her going out with her friends. I’ve often thought she could take a little job, if only to earn enough to buy her own clothes.’

‘I had no idea you felt like this. So angry – so resentful. You’ve never complained until now.’

‘I knew no better. And, of course, I trusted my mother to do her best for me!’

‘I’ve already told you; I have done my best.’

‘By sticking me behind a shop counter. You probably didn’t think I was capable of doing anything else!’

There was a shocked silence in which they stared at each other, wide-eyed. It was Kay who broke the silence. ‘Mum, I’m truly, truly sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that. I’m glad Julie has a chance to do well for herself and I’ve been happy working at Sampson’s. I don’t know what came over me.’

‘I do. Just see how Lana’s money has set us quarrelling. She must be laughing from her grave!’

Kay was aghast. She was furious with herself for letting her long suppressed feelings of hurt and resentment get the better of her. This was the first time she had actually voiced them. And what about her mother? Kay sensed that now they had stopped, she was frightened she had gone too far. After all, she was going to ask for something, wasn’t she?

She had been expecting her mother to propose an allowance for Julie, perhaps, and a lump sum for herself. Kay knew how hard her mother had worked over the years, and it would be nice if she could relax and not have to take in lodgers any more. However, the request, when it came, took her breath away. She had not expected her mother to ask her to buy her a house.

After a shocked silence Kay asked, ‘But why would you want to move? This is a lovely house.’

‘Maybe it is,’ her mother replied, ‘but it doesn’t belong to me, does it? No matter how hard I’ve worked and how well I’ve looked after it, and my mother before me, it’s rented property. I want a house of my own.’

‘And you think I should buy one for you?’

‘I do. You can certainly afford to.’

Kay remained silent and her mother, taking this for assent, hurried on. ‘Two thousand pounds is a lot of money. I don’t know what you intend to do with it, but surely you could spare eight hundred pounds for your own mother.’

‘Eight hundred pounds! That would buy you a mansion.’

‘Don’t exaggerate, Kay. I’ve been looking at the Houses for Sale column in the
Chronicle
and there are some lovely houses along the seafront by the lighthouse, or overlooking the dene and the golf course. They fall between six and seven hundred pounds, but most of them need some work doing to update them. Eight hundred pounds would mean I could have any work done and furnish the house properly, too.’

‘Furnish it?’

‘You wouldn’t expect me to take this old stuff, would you?’

‘I don’t know what I would expect. And what about me? Do you plan to take me along to live with you?’

‘Of course I do. For as long as you want to. Although I expect you’ll be getting married soon enough, once Tony sees you living in a better part of town.’

Kay was stung by that but she let it go. ‘And Miss Pearson and Miss Elkin? What would happen to them? Would they come and live in a better part of town, too?’

‘Don’t be silly. It’s easy enough to find other lodgings, but I don’t suppose they would have to. Whoever takes this house on after me would probably want lodgers, too. I could manage without taking lodgers – so long as you played fair.’

‘You mean as well as buying you a house I should give you some money?’

Her mother’s eyes flashed. ‘Don’t make it sound like charity, Kay. I should think you would want to help your mother without being asked.’

‘Of course I do.’

‘Then I won’t make any apologies. But as a matter of fact my little pension, meagre as it is, would be enough to keep me going quite comfortably.’ She paused then shook her head disapprovingly. ‘I knew Lana Fontaine when she was just a chorus girl,’ she said. ‘She didn’t have two pennies to rub together. I helped her when she was in dire need. Then off she went to become a film star. Rich and famous. Forgot about her old friends, didn’t she? No one knows why she retired when she did, but she must have made a packet. And for some reason she leaves all this money to you. Poor Julie. It just isn’t fair.’

‘Oh, yes, Julie. I imagine you’ll want me to do something for her.’

‘Of course I do. Your own sister! A nice little lump sum. I’ll leave it to your conscience to decide how much, but I was thinking two hundred pounds would be about right. Goodnight, Kay.’

Thelma rose swiftly and left the room without another word, leaving Kay completely dumbfounded. She was shocked by the strength of her mother’s anger and resentment, although she thought she could understand it. And then she thought how squalid it was to be quarrelling over money like this. She remembered her mother’s words:
‘Just see how Lana’s money has set us quarrelling. She must be laughing from her grave!’

Kay rinsed the cups and plates and left them to drain on the wooden bench; then she went to bed, but sleep evaded her. Eventually she reached for the bedside lamp, switched it on and took the letter from the drawer. Lana’s letter. The one that had been in the envelope along with the letter from the solicitor, but which she had not shown her mother. Her mother had called Lana’s will an act of spite. Was this the letter of a spiteful woman?

My darling girl,