The Woman From Heartbreak House

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The Woman From Heartbreak House Page 25

by Freda Lightfoot


  Kate stiffened. ‘Hold on, I told you from the start I knew about shoes.’

  ‘But you never said how?’

  ‘I explained that too. I used to work in a shoe shop – well, a shoe factory as a matter of fact.’

  ‘Which factory? Where? Come on, Kate, stop being coy. Where and how did you acquire these skills, if not from my store?’

  She felt cornered, not wishing to answer. ‘It was further north. You’ve probably never heard of it. Anyway, what has that to do with the price of fish? I’m leaving and, as I say, I’m sorry to let you down but there it is. I like being my own boss. Just as you do.’ And again she cast him a sideways smile, longing to escape and have done with this difficult interview. It would be so much easier if Theo didn’t have this charisma about him, if he were ugly instead of so attractive.

  ‘Oh, I understand perfectly, but that isn’t the real reason you’re leaving. I understand perfectly why you’re doing that. Indeed, I half expected it.’

  ‘You did?’ Now she felt bemused. Had he thought of something that she hadn’t? Could he truly read her mind?

  He took her gently by the shoulders. ‘You’ve decided to take down this foolish barrier you’ve erected between us, because we’re employer and employee. Quite frankly, I’m delighted. On Friday you can leave my employ, and on Saturday I’m taking you out to dinner to celebrate the start of a new dimension in our friendship. And I won’t take no for an answer.’

  Kate realised that she’d set her own trap and now sprung it.

  Chapter Thirty

  She had meant to go up to Kendal to see Callum come the weekend. Instead, Kate put on her glad rags and prepared to be wined and dined by Theo Ingram. Was it a mistake? She rather thought it might be, or why would she feel so nervous, so uncomfortable? And yet, deep down, secretly excited.

  He took her to the Midland Hotel, all rather formal and stiff, where they ate potted shrimps, lentil soup and a fancy dish called Chicken Fermiere. Kate would have preferred to go to a smaller café for a nice bit of haddock but Theo Ingram was a man accustomed to getting his own way and it clearly never occurred to him to ask Kate what she wanted to eat. He even looked offended when he had the waitress bring her a slice of lemon sponge and she declined to eat it.

  ‘What is wrong with it?’

  Kate giggled. ‘Nothing, but I really couldn’t eat another a thing.’

  ‘Well, I’ve ordered it now, so eat what you can.’

  ‘No thank you. I’m sorry, but you should have asked me before you ordered it.’

  Clearly irritated, he spooned it into his own dish and ate both puddings. Kate watched him in amusement.

  She did agree to have coffee which they took in the lounge, a rather grand room reminiscent of a bygone age.

  ‘I think you like playing hard to get,’ he said, about to spoon sugar into her coffee until Kate stopped him.

  ‘I don’t take sugar, thank you, and I like my coffee black.’

  ‘Good gracious!’ He lit up a cigar, not asking if she minded. Kate said nothing, probably because she rather enjoyed the scent of a good cigar, turning her attention to his earlier remark.

  ‘I’m not playing anything, certainly not hard to get, just trying to earn an honest living and look after my daughter.’

  ‘We could have done this months ago, enjoyed any number of dinners together, if you hadn’t been so stubborn. Although now you’re leaving the store it will certainly make matters much easier between us. Less gossip among the other staff.’

  Kate looked at him and blinked, saying nothing. The arrogant assumption of the man was breathtaking. Why didn’t she tell him so?

  ‘So, what gave you the notion to open a shoe shop? Generally speaking, women don’t have the first idea how to run a business. They don’t normally possess either the intelligence or the education. I’m sure you’ll do your best, you and your daughter, since you’ve got spunk if nothing else, although I doubt your little shop will last the year.’

  Kate was reeling, struck almost speechless by this casual dismissal of her abilities, not quite knowing which criticism to tackle first. She took a swallow of coffee, almost scalding her mouth. Setting down her cup with a clatter, she caught his eye. Could he, very possibly, be teasing her? She decided to play safe and not take offence at his remarks. Besides, she hated to be put on the defensive. Smiling, she said, ‘We’ve every faith we can make a success of it.’ And then before he had the chance to interrogate her further, she asked him a question.

  ‘How did you get into business? Did you inherit the store from your family or start it yourself?’

  The rest of the evening Theo Ingram did what he liked to do best, that was to talk about himself, and Kate found herself listening with interest. He was the eldest of four, apparently his three younger siblings all girls, and once his father died, had readily taken control of the business at just eighteen. ‘None of my sisters could possibly have coped,’ he explained, rather dismissively, Kate thought, though she made no comment.

  For all he was young to be in such a position it never troubled him, apparently, probably because there didn’t seem to be any shortage of funds. Theo had had a much more privileged and easy route to success even than Eliot, who had also been left a business by his father, if without the funds to finance it. Consequently, he’d been forced to drag Tyson’s Shoes out of debt and difficulties more than once.

  Yet despite Theo Ingram’s rather high opinion of himself, his somewhat bossy, over-controlling manner and arrogant assumption that he knew best, he was an engaging raconteur, an amusing and companionable dinner companion, and Kate found herself relaxing. Aware of the admiration in his eyes, she felt like an attractive woman again for the first time in years.

  He swung the conversation back to her, complimenting her on the ribbed silk gown she was wearing. ‘That is a most delicate shade of pink, and a beautiful fabric. Not at all the sort of frock one would expect a shop girl to wear. You’re a woman of mystery, Kate O’Connor. And those shoes ... very stylish. Of the latest design too. May I examine one?’

  Kate abruptly stood up, feeling flustered. She’d made a bad mistake dressing herself up like this, out of pure vanity, and Tyson’s name would be inscribed on the sock-lining of her shoe. ‘I don’t think that would be quite appropriate. Thank you for a lovely evening. I’d like to go home now, if you please. I’ve left Flora with a neighbour.’

  He insisted on escorting her, hailing a taxi cab for the short journey. Kate asked the driver to drop her at the end of her street.

  ‘I’ll walk you along to your door.’

  ‘There’s really no need.’

  ‘There’s every need. This is not the best of areas, not at all in keeping with your expensive gown.’

  Flushing bright pink Kate said nothing as Theo paid off the taxi and then, taking her arm, led her into the shadowy darkness. They passed a reeling drunk spewing his guts up, a couple canoodling under a lamp post.

  ‘It’s not usually like this. It’s generally a quiet neighbourhood. Flora and I feel perfectly safe living here.’ But seeing it afresh through Theo’s eyes, Kate knew she sounded unconvincing and hated herself for feeling embarrassed.

  ‘Let me find you somewhere better to live.’

  ‘I don’t want anywhere better. I mean, I’m sure that once our little shop is successful, we’ll be moving out of this street. We can manage, so we can.’

  He regarded her steadily for a moment. ‘You are a remarkable woman, Kate O’Connor, if remarkably stubborn. I’d like to get to know you better.’

  Kate reached her front door with a sigh of relief. ‘Here we are. Thank you kindly for a lovely evening.’ She held out her hand in a polite gesture of farewell, but he made no move to take it.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’

  ‘To be sure I’m not. Aren’t I a respectable m –‘ Kate stopped, confused. Even after all this time, it was so easy to make that slip of the tongue. ‘Sorry, I’ve not been widowed v
ery long,’ she said, by way of explanation, although this was far from true. Eliot had been dead nearly three years.

  ‘I understand. You need looking after, that much is clear, but I’ve no wish to alarm you by rushing things.’ Smiling sympathetically, Theo took the key from her hand and unlocked the door. Still Kate blocked the way, making it very clear that she meant what she said. He nodded, raising his hands in mock surrender. ‘Next time, perhaps.’ Then, pulling her gently into his arms, he kissed her. She could taste the cigar on his tongue, the wine he’d drunk, and, despite herself, was stirred by the kiss, even if there was something cool and impersonal about it. But then, they were still little more than strangers.

  When he’d gone she locked the door and skipped quickly up the stairs to bed, her heart pounding. What was she doing? Playing with fire, that’s what.

  Kate spent every day after that working to get the new shop ready for opening, Flora beside her. Toby came over to Manchester ever more frequently to check on progress and offer what assistance he could. He would always ask her what she’d been up to since last he saw her, but for some reason she made no mention of having been taken out to dinner by her ex-boss, so that it came as a surprise when he challenged her on the subject.

  They were cleaning out what was to be the stock room, breaking up old boxes, stripping torn paper from the walls. ‘You’re being courted by the great Ingram himself, I understand?’

  ‘Who’s been gossiping about me? Flora, I suppose.’

  ‘She happened to mention he’d taken you out. Moving up in the world, eh?’

  ‘It was only dinner.’

  ‘Careful, you don’t want him taking too much of a personal interest.’

  Kate bridled. ‘And why not, may I ask?’

  ‘He’s your boss.’

  ‘Not any more.’

  ‘He might start being nosy and asking questions, which you’re best avoiding in the circumstances. We don’t want any bad publicity at this stage.’

  ‘Aw, so you’re regretting involving yourself with a loony now, are ye, in case it gives you a bad name too, mebbe?’

  ‘Don’t be daft, Kate. I was thinking of the shop. I thought you wanted to be careful what folk learned about you, and he’s clearly the nosy type. His sort usually like to know everything about any likely rival, so be careful, that’s all I’m saying. If Ingram thinks you have a dark secret, he’ll winkle it out of you.’

  She was irritated now, her independent streak coming strongly to the fore. ‘I think it’s up to me what I tell him, or who I go out with.’

  Toby ripped up a battered cardboard box and stamped on it hard to flatten it, just as if he’d like to be doing that to Ingram. He’d tried telling Kate before how he felt about her, but it hadn’t helped, so what else could he do but bite his tongue and hope for the best? ‘I only want you to be happy.’

  Kate stifled a sigh. ‘I know.’ She decided to change the subject to safer ground. ‘Why don’t you bring Callum next time? Sure and it’s weeks since I visited Kendal and aren’t I feeling guilty because I haven’t seen my boy lately.’

  Toby had said very little about whatever had gone awry over the arrangements Callum had made to stay with his mate except that he was now lodging with Toby, and had been for over a year. Whenever Kate had visited, she’d been happy to see that the pair of them seemed to get along well, for which she was most grateful. She liked the idea of an older man keeping an eye on her over-sensitive son.

  Toby said, ‘I’m a bit worried about Callum, truth be told. His drinking isn’t getting any less, and he can be a touch quarrelsome when in his cups. It’s hard sometimes to keep proper control of him.’

  Kate put both hands to her mouth. ‘Is it because he feels I’ve deserted him? Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I’ve abandoned my own boy.’

  Over sausage and mash at the Crown Inn, Flora having joined them for a bite to eat, all they could talk about was Callum. Her son was a great worry to Kate, but at least Toby understood so she had the relief of expressing her feelings. They were like family, the three of them, sharing their concerns over a loved one. Dear Toby, she took him so much for granted. What would she do without him?

  ‘He’s been behaving badly ever since it all fell through between Bunty and him,’ Toby was explaining.

  ‘Aw, didn’t I warn him that it would? He wrote to say she was back home, but that they weren’t together. I didn’t like to ask why.’

  Toby shook his head. ‘He still isn’t saying. Won’t talk about it, won’t even mention her name. I know they met up once because they used me as go-between. Maybe they had a row, I’m not sure. After that, he once gave me a letter which I passed on to her by the office lad, but there’s been no contact since, not so far as I’m aware.’

  Flora looked solemn. ‘I asked him what had gone so badly wrong, and he nearly snapped my head off.’

  ‘It would be a good idea, Kate, if happen you could pop up to Kendal some time soon and have a word with the lad. He’s not himself, not at all.’

  ‘I will, I will. I’ll come soon. Next week if I can,’ Kate agreed.

  Toby stayed for the rest of that day and in the evening took her to the pictures before he had to catch his train, as he enjoyed an evening alone with her.

  He washed and shaved in Kate’s back kitchen, put on a clean shirt and made some attempt to tame his wild hair. He really looked quite smart, Kate thought approvingly. She put on a new blue two-piece, linking arms with him as they walked along Oxford Street, feeling very content with life.

  This outing became a regular habit, their friendship becoming increasingly close as they worked together on the shop, and Kate found that she enjoyed his company. She also continued to accept the odd invitation from Theo Ingram, and would find herself making comparisons, which wasn’t quite fair considering the two men were poles apart in income and education, not to mention class.

  Toby was certainly a hard worker. He didn’t mind what task Kate asked him to do. He was happy to tackle the dirty, messy jobs, or sit and work out finances and balance sheets with her. He happily knocked down a wall in the little shop to open it up and make it bigger, although he let her deal with the landlord and persuade him to agree to the changes they wished to make to the premises.

  ‘You’re prettier than me and better with the sweet-talk,’ Toby joked.

  And always at the end of a day’s work, they would enjoy a fish supper, or a film, or else the three of them would simply sit by Kate’s fireside and talk endlessly, making plans for the future of the business. It was all so exciting.

  But Kate still hadn’t found time to go up to Kendal and see her son, and guilt was gnawing at her. ‘I’ve been that busy, so I have. Will I write him a letter to explain?’

  Toby frowned, looking unconvinced. ‘Something’s eating him, that’s for sure. Got absolutely plastered the other night.’

  ‘Lucy isn’t creating more problems, I hope?’

  ‘Thankfully, she has other things on her mind right now. Haven’t you heard? Rumour has it there’s a wedding in the wind. She’s apparently found herself a rich husband, a Ralph Powney, who must be a good few years younger.’

  Kate gaped. ‘I’ve heard nothing of any wedding, nor received an invitation.’

  ‘I believe it’s to be a quiet ceremony, with no fuss.’

  ‘Praise the Lord,’ Kate said to Flora, and they both laughed. ‘At least this means she’ll be out of my hair for good now.’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  ‘Are you going to open this door or must I call for help to break it down?’

  Bunty sat curled on her bed with her hands over her ears, refusing to listen to her mother’s shrieks. She felt numb, stunned by events. Could this really be happening to her? A week ago she’d still been free, congratulating herself on her increasing skill at evading her mother’s schemes. Now disaster loomed and she really didn’t know how it had come about. She was twenty-one, for heavens’ sake, so why did she still have no control over he
r own life?

  In the two years since Callum had turned his back on her, she’d gone through the motions of obediently doing exactly as Lucy demanded, not caring one way or the other what kind of future she had, since it didn’t include Callum. Yet had somehow managed to hold them all off, or rather put off any likely suitor by being difficult in some way whenever her mother wasn’t looking.

  Lucy hammered on the door again. ‘Our appointment at the dressmaker is in half an hour precisely and you will be there if I have to drag you by the hair! A bride cannot be married without a wedding gown.’

  Now she was apparently to be married even without her consent. She could barely recall being asked, let alone agreeing. Why was she bothering to make this last stand? Where was the point? She was lost, doomed, no doubt had been from the start.

  Bunty had eaten more roast beef dinners and cucumber sandwiches, drunk more cups of tea and glasses of champagne than were really quite good for her over the last two years, yet hadn’t enjoyed any of it. She’d been on a social treadmill, going through the motions of politeness, filling the endless days.

  She’d quite enjoyed the dressing up and going to the theatre, or sailing on the lake in private steam yachts, being bought delicious little presents and made to feel special. All of this had served to take her mind off her misery over Callum. But much of it had been decidedly unpleasant. Having to let old men paw and pat her, for instance, like that bewhiskered Timothy Tiffin creature who’d touched her where he shouldn’t. She’d successfully managed to dampen his ardour.

  At one especially dreadful musical soiree, she’d got really rather tiddly which had resulted in an unfortunate, if rather hilarious, incident in the garden.

  The aunts’ tiny house at Heversham was far too small for such an event, not that Lucy would allow this small detail to stand in the way of her ambition. Nevertheless, the effect of all those people crowding into the small front parlour had been stifling and Bunty had escaped briefly for a breath of fresh air

 

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