Kitty's Countryside Dream (16 page)

I
didn't see
Tom for the rest of the day; I assumed he must have an awful lot on his mind with Jeannie and the baby. I'd never seen that moody side to him before, but I didn't take it to heart; we were all entitled to an off day.

I cycled home as fast as I could that evening. My mind hadn't been on my work and without Jeannie at the Lodge the day seemed to drag. I was forever checking the time on my watch, willing the hours to pass quicker.

The temporary farmhands were working flat out too, and I was going to suggest to Tom that maybe it would be possible to make a couple of them permanent.

After grabbing a bite to eat and feeding Alfie, I once again retreated to my bed. I sat upright and pulled the duvet up over my knees. Once Alfie had finished eating his tea, he was as loyal as ever and snuggled down next to me on top of the bedcovers.

Opening the diary, I placed the letter that my mother had written to Violet on the bedside table and carried on reading.

1
7 November 1960

I
'm
happy that Alice is now back home with Julian. I'm looking forward to visiting them very soon.

At the moment I'm working alongside Mum and Dad at the Lodge and I am being very helpful. There is a method to my madness. The harder I work, the less I think about T. I don't think I will ever trust a man again as long as I live and considering I'm only sixteen that could be a very long time. In the mornings I've stopped waiting by the side of the road to wave at him. I don't know if he still travels along the same route to work, but I think it's best if I don't find out. What good will it do? The sooner I forget about him the better, but it's easier said than done. Every night he's the last thing that I think about before I fall asleep and he's always the first thing I think about as soon as I wake. I'm hoping in time this will change.

1
8 November 1960

T
oday has been
the most dreadful day. I've spent the whole day in bed with only a plastic bucket for company. Mum called the doctor out to me at 2 p.m. Every time I attempted to sit up I felt dizzy and now I've been vomiting for nearly six hours. I've not managed to eat anything and even water isn't settling in my stomach.

1
9 November 1960

M
y body aches
, the tiredness is unbelievable and I still feel sick. The doctor thinks I may have a dose of food poisoning; either that or it's just a bug. My mum must be worried because she keeps checking up on me, expecting me to be up and about, but I can't even lift my head off the pillow. All I want to do is sleep.

2
0 November 1960

M
um must have spoken
to Alice. When I woke up this afternoon she was sitting next to my bed and had been watching me sleep. She was holding my hand and wiping my brow with a cold facecloth. Every part of my body feels clammy and I've not had a wash for a couple of days now. I've not even got the energy to stand up.

Alice, my kind sister, helped me to wash and shampooed my hair over the bathroom sink; she said I would feel better if my hair was clean, and she was right, I did a little. Ethel has tried to visit me but Mother thought it was better if she didn't see me in case I transferred any germs to their household. Mum didn't want that on her conscience. It would've been lovely to see her but she's promised to come back in a couple of days' time to check if I'm any better.

As I lay in bed with Alice mopping my brow she told me all about her new goddaughter. She sounds so adorable with her small fingers and toes and chubby cheeks. The parents still hadn't agreed on a name, but Alice told me they needed to hurry because they wanted to arrange the christening soon after Christmas.

Alice promised I could go shopping with her for an outfit as soon as I was better. Julian had been putting some money aside maybe for a holiday, but now he's given it to Alice. He wants her to treat herself to a new dress for the christening, as being asked to be godmother is such a privilege and one I know will be taken very seriously by Alice.

2
2 November 1960

I
can't take much more
of this illness. It's been a few days now and I'm still being sick. I feel so weak and tired. All I want to do is sleep. Mum has called for the doctor again.

S
canning the next few pages
, I noticed that the next entry of Violet's diary was nearly a week later.

2
8 November 1960

T
his has been
the worst week of my life. I've spent the past week either asleep or being sick. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I am half the woman I was a week ago. My face is white and gaunt and my weight loss is extremely noticeable without a doubt. My nightie is hanging off me. This is the worst sickness bug I've ever had.

Finally my mum has let Ethel in to see me. She is such a good friend – every day she's called in to see how I am. She brought me a letter. I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't want to read it, but I knew I would eventually. The letter is from T. It wasn't anything I didn't already know. He had heard I was poorly.

M
y dearest Violet
,

I
want
you to know that I am thinking about you and wish you a speedy recovery.

Every morning I miss your wave and now I know why you haven't been waiting by the roadside recently.

I miss you and always will.

L
ove always and forever
,

T x

I
began
to sob and handed the letter to Ethel. The look on her face was one of utter disbelief when I shared with my best friend what I'd discovered that day at the hospital. Neither of us had any idea that T was married with children. Ethel was extremely clear in her instructions to me – I must forget him immediately. I had no choice. Time was a great healer.

I was trying my best, but he was still sneaking into my thoughts at every opportunity.

R
eading Violet's diary
, I had such mixed emotions. I felt like I was with her every step of the way. I was feeling helpless that she was so poorly yet that was a daft feeling to have because the diary must be several decades old.

Feeling a little parched, I sauntered into the kitchen to make a drink. Noticing the empty milk carton on the worktop, I could have kicked myself. I was that eager to arrive home to carry on reading the diary that I'd forgotten to pick up a pint on my way home from work.

Slipping my feet into my trainers, I grabbed my bike and purse. The evening air was very pleasant and I began cycling towards the shop. Balancing my bike against the windowpane of the shop, I pushed the shop door but it remained firmly shut. There in front of me I read the sign that was pinned to the door. ‘Sorry for the inconvenience but due to a family emergency we will be closed for the rest of the day.'

‘Damn,' I muttered, rolling my eyes. Now I would have to pedal further down the road to the small newsagents on the other side of the park. Looking down at my watch, I saw time was ticking. I was hoping the next shop would still be open. Pedalling fast, I put on a spurt, steering the bike around the corner and in through the open gates of the park. The entrance was a narrow path lined by ancient oak trees. Their branches intertwined, creating a canopy over the path. The late-evening sun shone through the gaps in the newly sprouted shoots, leaving a mottled effect reflecting on the ground. As a gentle breeze blew, a grey squirrel shot in front of my bike, causing me to wobble as it scampered off up the gnarled tree trunk ahead. There were children still running around, happily chatting and kicking footballs backwards and forwards to each other. The ducks were gathered at the edge of the pond quacking at an old lady who was throwing them scraps of leftover bread from a plastic bag. I dodged a couple of joggers and dog walkers, and as the path widened towards the top of the hill, I pulled my brakes and placed both feet on the ground. I stared as I spotted a familiar figure further along the path.

It was Jeannie; she was perched on a bench, her legs entwined around another person's. A man. A man who certainly wasn't Tom. From a distance, I watched the pair of them. Jeannie threw her head back and laughed. They seemed very at ease in each other's company; he too was grinning. A few seconds or so later he pulled Jeannie towards him. He cupped his hands around her face, and they kissed. She didn't resist. Their kiss was deep and full of passion.

‘Oh my,' I found myself muttering, I was rooted to the spot, watching. I recognised the man but couldn't quite put a name to the face. I racked my brains but still nothing. Where did I know him from?

From what I was witnessing I certainly wasn't overly impressed with Jeannie; in fact I was utterly disgusted. How could she treat Tom this way? For God's sake, she was pregnant with his baby. And yet here she was in broad daylight openly cavorting with another man. They both stood up. Jeannie's head was resting against his shoulder and his arm was firmly wrapped around her body as they began to stroll towards me. There was a feeling of panic burning in my chest. Maybe I'd got it wrong – I hoped I'd got it wrong – but my gut instinct told me the way that man kissed her, he was certainly not just a friend.

With my plans now thrown into disarray, I sighed. The milk would just have to wait because there was no way I could carry on cycling past them through the park. They would spot me. Turning around I mounted my bike and cycled off home in the opposite direction.

A
fter sipping some water
, I placed the glass on the bedside cabinet and snuggled back under the duvet. My mind was whirling with every scenario possible as to why my friend was cheating on Tom. He deserved better. I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes whilst I tried to decide whether I should tell Tom or not. I had to consider how this would affect everyone's working relationship at the farm. Staring out of the window from my bed, I smiled as I remembered one of Mum's useful pieces of advice. I heard her voice in my head: ‘Always remember to stick your nose in a book and not other people's business.' I think Mother might be right on this occasion; no one knew that I had seen Jeannie and eventually she would have to come clean, unless Tom discovered her secret first. At some point there was the possibility that she may even confide in me and at that time, if it happened, I would encourage her to tell Tom the truth.

There – that's what I was going to do. I would wait and see what happened, but in the meantime I was going to take Mum's advice and stick my nose back in a book – in this case Violet's diary. Mum always knew best.

2
9 November 1960

I
've ripped
T's letter into tiny pieces. Ethel is right – I need to forget him. Sometimes I get so angry when I think about him. Why did he lie to me? If he'd been honest enough to tell me the truth, then I could have made my own mind up. I'm not sure what I would have done but at least it would have been my decision and I would only have myself to blame when and if our relationship was ever discovered. Honestly, I thought he was playing it safe because of the age difference. It didn't bother me he was ten years older, but my parents' reaction was one I didn't really want to think about. But in time they would have come round; I know they would have, especially when they saw how much we loved each other and he did love me, I know he did, he must have. The way he looked at me, the things he said to me and the way he kissed me – I felt it, so why, why, why?

1
December 1960

I
t's been
a few days since I've written. I weighed myself on the bathroom scales this morning and I've lost nearly half a stone with the sickness. I still feel weak and dizzy but my parents needed help on the farm today. Mum said it would do me good to get some fresh air and put some colour back in my cheeks.

I can't believe it's 1 December already; this year has flown by and Alice has been in touch. She's very excited. Remember I told you her friend has asked her to be godmother? Well the christening has been booked for 22 December. Alice has asked Mum if she can spare me for a few days so I can go shopping with her to find the perfect outfit. Mum has agreed and thinks the change of scenery will do me good after my illness. I am so excited. I've missed Alice since she left home and sometimes I feel really lonely.

5
December 1960

I
am sitting
in my bedroom at Alice's house. Well technically it's not my bedroom but Alice said it can be my room every time I come and stay. I hope I can come often. I joked that no doubt they would need it for a nursery very soon and Alice changed the subject very quickly. Maybe she isn't coping as well as we all thought with the loss of her baby.

Her house is very clean and tidy; it's the first time I've been over since they got married. Their married life started at Julian's parents' house; they have a huge house and it was nearer to work for Julian, so he didn't need to travel very far.

Alice is very proud of her house; she is very clever and has made her own beautiful cushions with a second-hand sewing machine that Julian's mother gave to her. Alice has promised she will teach me how to use it. She told me it's a very valuable skill to have and she makes some of her own clothes too.

Tomorrow we're catching the bus into town to search for a suitable dress for the christening. Alice isn't religious as such but is thrilled at being asked to be godmother.

6
December 1960

A
lice woke
me up early this morning; she was eager to hit the shops. Julian left for work at approximately 8 a.m., but once he had retrieved his bike from the outer house he popped his head around the back door to warn us to wrap up warm, as the air was nippy outside this morning. He was right – there was definitely a winter chill as we set off to catch the bus. I was so glad I'd wrapped up tightly in my warm duffle coat, scarf, hat and gloves.

Alice was like an excited child. She loves Christmas as much as me and as the bus pulled into the stop at the main high street we both gasped. The Christmas tree in the square stood tall and proud, wrapped in all its glory with twinkling, sparkling lights that shone out amongst the busy street. The place was already swarming with shoppers laden with bags. The bus was packed and Alice and I remained seated whilst we watched the droves of people filtering off the bus onto the street below. Harassed mothers weaved in and out of the chestnut stalls with their small children, who were being dragged along by their hands. People were pushing and shoving and we watched whilst they mumbled under their breath. Once Alice and I hopped off the bus we giggled as she took my hand and we skipped along the high street looking for her first bargain of the day.

Our first stop was the cafe on the corner; the aroma was divine and Alice warned me they whipped up the most delicious hot chocolates ever, and she wasn't wrong. This was just what we needed to warm us up after the bitterly cold journey.

The day was fantastic and even though my feet ache and I feel extremely tired our mission was accomplished. Alice purchased the most fabulous dress, shoes and hat to wear for the baby's christening.

7
December 1960

I
'm so
happy staying at Alice and Julian's house. They treat me like I'm a proper person and not a child. Everything is so relaxed and I'm allowed to sit downstairs with them at night-time. When I'm at home, Mum always shoos me upstairs to my room. She tells me that that time is for her and my father to relax quietly after a hard day's work at the farm.

I haven't thought about T until now, which means I must be coping. I'm starting to think about him less and less, and maybe I should see if the friend of my mother's son, ‘Winston Smithells', is still available to take me out to the Christmas party at Handover Place. It can't hurt and maybe I will like him after all.

Alice's friend is definitely visiting tomorrow and bringing the baby over late afternoon. I've never ever held a small baby before. I've delivered a few lambs during the lambing season but I think that may be a little different. I'm looking forward to meeting Alice's friend and her new baby.

S
taring at my bedside clock
, I saw it was approaching 10 p.m. My eyes were beginning to feel tired now. I'd been reading for a while. As usual Alfie was snuggled beside me. I stroked his fur, and he purred softly. My mind drifted towards Tom. It didn't take a lot for my mind to drift towards him; he was always there, in my thoughts. I felt kind of safe every time I thought of him.

Wandering over to the window, I stood there for a moment and watched the cars weaving up the road around the parked vehicles. Hearing a horn beep, I swung my head around and saw Tom's face smiling back at me from behind the wheel of his van as he drove past. I had no idea where he'd been this evening but he seemed in a better mood than earlier today. I watched him until he disappeared around the corner and finally, when I could see him no more, I tore my eyes away from the window and closed the curtains.

Climbing back onto the bed, I wrapped my arms around my knees. I had a nagging feeling inside me and began to think more and more about Violet. As far as I was concerned there was only me left in this family; I had no other family, but someone somewhere must know more about Violet.

Exhausted, I picked the diary back up; just one more entry wouldn't hurt.

I turned the page over.

The entry was short.

8
December 1960

T
his has been
the worst day of my life.