Home Is Where the Heart Is (8 page)

Determined to do right by her late sister and the baby she already loved as if she really were her own, Cathie tried again. ‘You need to understand, Alex, that because of the neglect I suffered as a child myself I wish to do my best for little Heather by adopting her. I did hope that you would agree.’

‘You think I’m some sort of idiot that I’d believe such tripe? How many times have women pretended to adopt a long lost cousin or niece? The child might call them aunt in public, but everyone knows she’s really the mother. Or else she gets her own mother to take the child on and makes out the child is her sister. Why don’t you ask Rona to do that?’

Cathie almost laughed out loud. ‘Absolutely not!’ she spluttered. ‘Not all women are natural mothers, and mine most certainly isn’t. Besides, I’ve just explained who Heather is. Why won’t you believe me?’

He glared at her, lips curling with disgust. ‘Because I know when I’m being lied to. Were this child really your niece then someone else could easily adopt her. Someone who can offer the child a proper home and a father. Why should it be you, unless the child really is yours?’

Cathie let out a heavy sigh. ‘I’ve already told you that Sal and I were very close, so I feel that I owe it to my late sister’s memory to take good care of her baby.’

‘Stuff and nonsense! I assure you that I’ve no intention of taking on another man’s child. Why would I? It’s that Steve fellow, isn’t it?’ he shouted, wagging a furious finger in her face. ‘I saw you with him the other night, giving him a kiss. You could have told me all about this child then.’

Devastation hit her that Alex should imagine for one moment that she could love anyone but him, let alone engage in an affair. ‘That’s not true, Alex! Steve and I are just old friends, nothing more and never have been. We don’t even get on terribly well, constantly falling out. And that was simply a thank you peck on the cheek for all the work he’d done. I’d been helping him run that charity event, as you know full well.’

‘Don’t take me for a damn fool,’ he shouted, in the kind of dismissively stern voice that denied argument. ‘Who else would it be, if not him? Some Yank perhaps? You did say when we were at the Ritz that there were plenty stationed near Manchester, and who attended the dances, so that’s a definite possibility.’

‘I also made it very plain that I was not involved with them in any way.’

He shrugged. ‘Whoever the father is, like many other young women parted from their man by this dratted war, you’ve behaved like an absolute slut and betrayed me. Not even bothering to send me a “Dear John” letter. My mother
was right. This is the reason you wished to rush me into marriage, to find a father for
your child.
’

Cathie felt herself start to shake, with anger now rather than nerves. Why wouldn’t he believe her, or even listen to a word she said? ‘I’m no
slut
! And it was
you
who said you were in a hurry to marry, the moment we met at the station. I didn’t at all mind waiting a little while, as it’s a job I’m most urgently in need of. You weren’t very sympathetic about that either, saying I wouldn’t even need one now we were about to marry.’

‘Well, I was wrong there. We aren’t going to be married, so it will indeed be necessary for you to find yourself employment fairly quickly, so that you can afford to feed this bastard child of yours.’

At which point Cathie stormed out of the house.

C
athie felt utterly devastated as she poured her heart out to Brenda as they strolled around the market a week later, Davina absent for once. She’d thought of Alex as the love of her life, and believed that he felt the same way about her. Yet he was convinced she’d betrayed and lied to him. ‘All these years of waiting and praying for his safe return, and now he’s tossed me aside as if I were some sort of harlot. Why won’t he believe that little Heather is my
niece
? Nor has he offered sympathy for the loss of Sal, not even in any of his letters let alone in person.’

‘It sounds very much as if he’s turning his back on reality,’ her friend quietly remarked.

‘I can fully understand why Alex would have no wish to speak of his own traumas, whatever they might be, but why is he so dismissive of my own?’

Had he been a touch more sympathetic she might have shared her own horror story with him.

‘Sometimes, the only way of coping is to “forget”,’ Brenda was saying. ‘To shut the horrors from your mind, just as everyone else who has suffered in this war does.’

‘I appreciate what you’re saying, and you know that I have first hand experience of grief as a result of this war, and other traumas too. I agree that locking away painful memories does often feel like the best way of dealing with the problem. But, as you’ve told me many times in the past, Brenda, sometimes talking about these issues can help, so why won’t he do that? Or properly listen to mine?’

‘He’s rather like Davina in that respect. Who knows what happened to that husband of hers? She won’t even tell us his name. I can talk endlessly about my beloved Jack to anyone willing to listen, if not about the manner of his death. Isn’t that how it should be?’

‘Oh yes, I’m happy to speak of Sal’s love of Christmas, of movies and singing, but not her accident. I prefer to remember her in life, not the manner of her death. With all the hardships I’ve had to face, and being forced to accept the wartime attitude of “we can take it”, it was the prospect of Alex’s homecoming that has kept me going.’

Brenda nodded, her round face filled with compassion. ‘The problem is that despite the war being over, things seem to be getting worse, not better, which is hard for ex-servicemen, for all of us. Peace is not bringing the end to the misery that everyone hoped it would. There’s a feeling of anticlimax, as if the bright blue, sun-filled sky has clouded over again, leaving a feeling of uncertainty about the future. A grey chill seems to hang over everything.’

‘Oh, you’re so right,’ Cathie said, pausing to haggle over the price of a rather poor selection of fruit and vegetables
on one of the stalls. She finally added two tomatoes, a small turnip and a few potatoes to her bag. ‘There are still too many shortages, queues are even longer as rationing continues and austerity beckons. We barely have enough money to buy coal to keep a paltry little fire burning in the grate, assuming we can find any to buy. We’ve burned all sorts of stuff over the years, including stools and old chairs in order to keep warm.’

Brenda chuckled. ‘I burned the clothes prop once, feeding it in an inch or two at a time.’

‘But no longer can anyone say: “Don’t you know there’s a war on?”’

Both girls were laughing now as they recalled the number of times this mantra had been repeated over the years. ‘Making ends meet is not easy, and bartering still very evident, if you have something to barter with,’ Brenda agreed. ‘I reckon only black marketeers are making any money.’

‘So what happens now? How can I convince Alex that I’m innocent of this charge of having an affair?’ Cathie asked, bleakness descending upon her once more. She valued Brenda’s friendship greatly, but when suffering traumas in the past Sal had been the one she’d turned to for comfort. Sadly, having lost her lovely sister, to now lose Alex made Cathie feel more alone than ever, and everything so much harder to deal with. Tears welled in her eyes. ‘How do I face life without him?’

‘With courage, darling, a skill you’ve never been short
of, so have faith in yourself and the future you can create for this little one.’

Cathie smiled through her tears as she watched little Heather happily bobbing up and down in her pram, gazing about her with bright-eyed interest. ‘Thanks, but being a little jealous is one thing, accusing me of sleeping with another man, quite another.’

‘He is fond of you though. Steve, I mean. He always has been.’

‘Don’t talk daft. The pair of us were for ever at odds, and the number of tricks he’s played on me over the years doesn’t bear thinking of. He’d hide my favourite doll, set off bangers and crackers to scare me on bonfire night, and make me run round and round a gravestone then put my ear to it to listen to the dead talking. Which was no doubt his own voice speaking to me, which I didn’t realise, idiot that I was. There’s nothing Steve Allenby likes more than to stir up trouble, but we’ve done nothing wrong. I simply gave him a peck on the cheek to thank him for his charity work. Nothing more than that, I swear it. But yes, I should have come clean from the start about wanting to keep Sal’s baby.’

‘That would have been difficult while Alex was away fighting, and whenever you chose to tell him could easily have brought forth this same reaction. But you need to consider if he’ll also take his anger out on Steve.’

‘Oh, my goodness, I never thought of that. Alex is a bit reckless and unstable in his thinking at the moment,
probably because of this dratted war, and poor Steve has enough problems to deal with.’ She’d done her best, as a friend, despite their constant disputes, to help him to deal with his traumas. Cathie really had no wish for her old friend to suffer even more as a result of some stupid assumption on Alex’s part. ‘Sorry, but I must go and warn him, right away.’

Quickly saying her goodbyes, Cathie dashed off, intending to call in upon Steve at the Co-op.

‘You’ve done the right thing, in dropping that silly girl,’ Alex’s mother assured her son, patting his cheek as if he were a five-year-old. ‘She was clearly taking advantage of your offer to get herself out of a hole of her own making. How dare she cheat on you! The chit obviously had no idea how fortunate she was to find such a fine young man as yourself. Who is this other fellow, anyway?’

‘An old friend of many years, apparently,’ Alex growled, making no mention of the fact that he’d lost count of the number of times he too had cheated on Cathie over these last few years. Leave wasn’t easy to come by out in the desert, but whenever he was granted any he would go to Cairo and spend his money on booze and brothels to offset his boredom.

He’d become so accustomed to that way of life, he’d done the same thing when he first returned home and was stationed near Salisbury. That was where he met a certain
young lady. She was so beautiful that he soon become entirely besotted with her. The fact she was a ‘good-time girl’, or in reality probably a prostitute, didn’t trouble him in the slightest. Keeping servicemen happy was her role in life, and it was perfectly acceptable for them to befriend girls when on leave. However, complete fidelity was naturally expected from wives and sweethearts. Ordinary women should be loyal to their man. That was their job, so Cathie had no right to betray him. But perhaps all women were whores at heart. ‘May he rot in hell for stealing my girl,’ he growled.

‘I should think you are better off without her, darling. Having an illegitimate child is almost as bad as prostitution. Quite shameful and immoral, and would bring disgrace to our family.’

‘So what are your plans for the future?’ his father put in, in that authoritative tone of voice that always set Alex’s teeth on edge. ‘You must have acquired some skills while serving abroad, what were they exactly? Hopefully they will help you to find a new job, as you never stayed in one longer than five minutes when you were a lad.’

Alex had always felt unappreciated by his parents, in particular his father. If they ever found out what he really got up to during the war, their attitude would be even worse. Providing the proof that he’d suffered a taxing war was virtually impossible. His work at the front line had been very much that of a back-room lad. A part of him resented the fact the army had adopted such a low opinion
of him that he was placed in the mess tent. Yet in the end he came to believe himself fortunate to have enjoyed an easy war, despite being sent overseas.

But if his imposing father ever discovered that he’d been trained as a cook and worked in the Army Catering Corps, Alex thought it unlikely he would ever speak to him again. The suitably named Victor constantly threatened to disinherit his only son if he didn’t achieve his required standards. As a consequence, Alex kept these facts to himself, not wishing it to be known that he’d held such a lowly job, which would be viewed with contempt.

Even now, Victor was addressing him with contempt. ‘It’s quite clear to me from your tan that you did very little, other than spending too much time sunbathing.’

‘I was living in sunny climes, and I’m afraid mum’s the word, as they say,’ Alex replied with a scathing smile, having no wish to admit he’d sweated out the war in a tented kitchen. Fortunately, keeping quiet about war work was perfectly acceptable, even rather liberating. ‘As for the future, I’m making the necessary enquiries, and keeping an eye out for a job. I hope to have found one by the time my demobilisation leave is over.’

‘There are training courses available in various skills,’ Victor reminded his son, ‘although they do tend to have more applications than places available, so you need to look sharp about it.’

Alex realised that new skills might indeed need to be developed in order to find employment. He certainly had no
wish to continue working as a cook. But after a childhood ruled by a controlling, arrogant father who thought nothing of caning him if he disobeyed an order, followed by years of fierce army regime, being one’s own boss carried considerable appeal. It really was time that he took control of his own life, as well as anyone who attempted to block that plan. Alex resolved to find some way of earning a living that would not put him under anyone else’s command, or require too much effort on his part.

As for Cathie, it was rather a pity she’d behaved so badly as she was a lovely girl. But he’d find himself another obedient wife to look after him and do her duty, so long as he chose with care. In the meantime, at least he still had other choices available to offer him solace.

Cathie sat waiting for Steve in the corner café, a place where they would sometimes meet up for a cup of tea and a chat, although generally on a Sunday afternoon, not during the week. As he came out for his dinner break, Steve looked surprised and slightly concerned to find her sitting there with an expression of utter misery on her face. ‘Are you all right, Cathie? You look a bit distressed.’

‘Sorry to bother you when you’re busy working, but we need to talk.’

Over a sandwich and a cup of tea, with little Heather happily sitting on her lap nibbling a chocolate biscuit,
Cathie told him what had happened and saw his face go pale with shock.

‘How dare he accuse you of such a dreadful thing? The man’s an idiot if he doesn’t appreciate how fortunate he is to have you.’

‘I’m afraid Alex immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion that the child was mine and refused to listen to common sense. I felt I should warn you, just in case he comes looking to put the blame on you.’

‘Thanks, but don’t worry, if he does I’ll make it very clear that our relationship has always been a bit gladiatorial, and strictly platonic.’

There was something in the cloudy softness of his blue-grey eyes that looked almost sad. Was he feeling pity for her, or something else entirely? A shiver ran down her spine as Cathie recalled what Brenda had said about Steve having always been fond of her. That couldn’t be right, could it? It was true that he’d helped her to cope with her grief, just as she had been there for him through his pain. But his description of their relationship was entirely correct. There’d been many instances in the past when they were at loggerheads, almost like sworn enemies at times. Dismissing Brenda’s views as nonsense, she blocked out the rush of emotion that threatened to unhinge her, as was her way.

‘I’d call it more cut-throat,’ she said with a smile.

He laughed. ‘Mebbe you’re right. Do you remember when we were kids how we’d go fishing with a net in the
River Medlock, competing for who could catch the most fish, or build the biggest dam?’

‘I do, and how you managed to trip me up once so that I fell in that black mucky water, in grave danger of getting myself caught up in all the rubbish.’

‘I swam in it often and never came to any harm.’

‘That’s because you were always prepared to take more risks than me. And at least you could swim.’ Memories of their long-standing friendship came flooding back. ‘Do you remember chasing the Salford kids on Irwell Street Bridge?’

‘Oh aye, I thought of Salford as enemy territory and if a rival gang came looking for trouble, battle would commence. I also remember you and I racing each other on bogies made from planks of wood with pram wheels at each end.’

‘I loved dancing round the maypole on May Day, the Whit Walks, and a trip to Peel Park was always a real treat. Sal and I would take a bottle of lemonade, and a jam butty to eat. I have such happy memories of my childhood with her.’ She paused to cast him a sideways glance. ‘And a few with you.’

‘Me too,’ he said with a grin. ‘Riding bicycles on St John Street was a favourite of mine, because it had a smooth, tarmacked surface instead of stone setts.’

Mention of St John Street instantly wiped these happy childhood reminiscences from her mind, bringing Cathie back to the moment she’d sat in Alex’s posh conservatory listening to him make his accusation.

As if reading her mind, Steve said, ‘Why on earth did Davina bring the child, when she knew you still needed to explain everything to him?’

‘I don’t know. Little Heather is a sweetie, not usually any trouble at all,’ Cathie said, kissing the baby’s head and laughing as she kicked her little legs with joy. ‘Nevertheless, babies can be a bit difficult to deal with, I suppose, if you aren’t used to them, and Davina isn’t.’