Sally hugged her and kissed her cheek, and Kathy was almost too overcome to speak.
‘All the teachers send their love,’ said Sally. ‘We were all sorry to hear about your accident, but you’re looking quite bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, aren’t you, dear?’ Kathy had a broad smile on her face and her cheeks were pink with excitement. ‘And here’s a little present from me,’ Sally went on. She opened her bag and took out a box of jelly babies and a book, quite a large green one. ‘This is a book I enjoyed when I was a little girl,’ she said. ‘It’s called The Green Book of Fairy Tales, and I’d like to give it to you now, Kathy.’
‘Gosh, thank you!’ said Kathy. ‘I’ll look forward to reading it. I’m feeling a lot better now. Daddy and Aunty Win, and sometimes Uncle Jeff, come to see me every day, and I might be going home next week. Daddy broke his arm as well. Did you know that … Miss Roberts?’
‘Yes, I called to see him and your aunty,’ said Sally. ‘He seems to be managing all right. He’s more concerned about you, Kathy, about you getting well again … Your daddy loves you very much, you know.’
‘Yes, I know,’ replied Kathy. ‘He’s been … sort of … kinder, you know, while I’ve been in here. He used to be a bit grumpy sometimes. I was ever so sorry, Miss Roberts, when you and daddy stopped seeing one another.’
‘Yes, I know, dear,’ said Sally. ‘But you mustn’t worry about it anymore. Grown-ups know, you see, when something isn’t going to work out. And we didn’t think it would. But you and me, we’ll always be friends, won’t we?’
Kathy nodded. ‘Yes, I hope so.’
‘I’ll let you into a little secret,’ said Sally, leaning closer to her. ‘You remember Mr Grantley? Phil – that’s what he’s called.’ Kathy nodded again.
‘Yes, I know Mr Grantley. He teaches one of the top classes and takes PE and Games.’
‘Well, we’ve started going out together again, Phil and I. We were quite good friends, you see, and then your dad asked me to go out with him – to the restaurant, you remember, when he won that raffle prize? And so Phil and I drifted apart; it was all rather a mix-up, really. But we’re friendly again now, and I’m very pleased about that.’ Sally smiled and she looked really happy.
‘Oh … that’s nice,’ said Kathy, quite pleased that Miss Roberts had confided in her, just as though she was a real grown-up friend. ‘I like Mr Grantley. He looks as though he’s good fun … Are you going to marry him, then?’
Sally laughed out loud. ‘Oh, goodness me! It’s early days to be thinking about that, Kathy love. Anyway, a lady has to wait until she’s asked, you know.’
‘Yes, that’s what Aunty Win said when I asked her if she was going to marry Uncle Jeff,’ replied Kathy. ‘But I think they will get married, you know,’ she added confidingly. ‘They’re quite old, really, but I don’t suppose that matters, does it?’
Sally chuckled again. ‘I don’t suppose it matters at all. But what they are all concerned about at the moment is you getting well again.’
They chatted for a little while about what was going on in the hospital. Kathy said that the food was quite nice and that she liked all the nurses and the doctor who was in charge of her. And Sally told her about her new class of top infants.
She stayed for about half an hour, and Kathy breathed a sigh of contentment as she left. It had been really lovely to see her. With her good arm she opened the book. It was quite an old-fashioned one with lovely coloured pictures on shiny paper. Kathy knew she would enjoy reading the stories of fairy tale princesses, wizards, witches and dragons. And how nice it was to have a book that had belonged to Miss Roberts. ‘Sally …’ she whispered quietly to herself.
Sally was on top of the world at the moment. It had been a dreadful shock to hear, in the staffroom, about the accident that had put Kathy Leigh in hospital and caused injuries to Albert as well. It was Mrs Culshaw – Mavis – who, as Kathy’s class teacher, had been given the news. At that time the little girl was still unconscious, and Sally had found it hard to concentrate on her work for the next day or two until the news came that she was recovering.
She was surprised, but pleased, to see Phil Grantley coming into her classroom after lessons had finished that day.
‘It’s good news about Kathy, isn’t it?’ he began, leaning casually against the teaching desk where Sally was sitting. ‘I know how worried you must have been about her. You grew very fond of her, didn’t you, whilst you and her father were friendly? I don’t know her very well, but she seems a dear little girl.’
‘Yes, so she is,’ agreed Sally. ‘I shall go and see her soon. I’ll ask her Aunty Win first to make sure it’s OK for me to go.’ She hesitated, then she went on. ‘It was never really serious between Albert Leigh and me, you know. At least … I think he wanted it to be, and that was when I decided to call it a day. It would never have worked out, although he’s quite a nice chap when you get to know him. But not right for me.’
‘Yes, I see …’ replied Phil. ‘That’s the main reason I’ve come to see you, Sally, apart from saying that I’m pleased to hear about Kathy. You and me … it all went wrong somewhere along the way, didn’t it?’
Sally gave a rueful smile. ‘Yes, so it did. Bad timing, you might say, and things happening that were out of our control.’ They looked steadily at one another, and Sally knew that the stirrings of love that she had started to feel for him a few months ago were still there.
He reached out a hand to her across the desk. ‘Could we try again, Sally?’ he said. ‘I really have missed you, and we’ve wasted such a lot of time.’
‘What about Fiona?’ she asked. ‘You went on holiday together, didn’t you?’
‘With a crowd of others,’ he replied. ‘No, that has come to an end. Fiona and I had nothing much in common, really, only that we are both teachers, and are both quite keen on walking. But it’s not enough. We know we’re not right for one another. How do you feel, Sally? Would you come out with me … tonight?’
‘I’d love to, Phil,’ she said simply as she squeezed his hand. She stood up, and he put his arms around her, kissing her gently on the lips.
‘Come along,’ he said. ‘I’ll run you home now, then I’ll call for you tonight. Seven-thirty OK?’
‘Very much OK,’ she smiled.
He kissed her far more ardently as they said goodnight that evening, after a quiet drink at a seafront hotel. ‘How about a meal and then the pictures on Saturday night?’ he said. ‘We’ll paint the town red!’
They didn’t exactly do that. They were both, deep down, quite reserved people, not given to extremes. But they both knew that they were at the start – though somewhat delayed – of something good.
Plans were afoot, too, at Holmleigh. Jeff Bancroft had asked Winifred if she would marry him and she had quietly agreed that of course she would. They had both known that it was inevitable.
He had proposed to her on the evening that Kathy had regained consciousness. They sat together in the family living room, Albert having tactfully left them alone for a while, as if he knew what was about to happen.
‘I know you’re concerned about Kathy,’ said Jeff, ‘especially now, after the accident. And I know you won’t want to move away from here and leave her.’
‘That’s true,’ she replied. ‘I’m not saying that Albert wouldn’t look after her well, but he’s always left a great deal of her bringing up to me, and I know she would miss me. I did think he might get married again, but I feel now that that isn’t likely to happen.’
‘Well, I’d like to suggest that I sell my bungalow and come to live here,’ said Jeff. He smiled. ‘That is, if you and Albert will have me?’
Winifred smiled. ‘I think that’s a splendid idea. I’d thought of it, I must admit, but I didn’t like to suggest it myself. After all, it’s your home that you’re going to sell, isn’t it? Besides, I had to wait until you popped the question!’
Jeff kissed her lovingly. ‘My home is anywhere that you are, my dear
,’ he said. ‘But I don’t want to wait too long. There’s no point in waiting, is there?’
They agreed on a quiet wedding just before Christmas. They hoped that, by that time, Jeff’s house would be sold and they would then settle in their own private rooms at Holmleigh.
‘Come on, let’s go and tell Albert,’ said Jeff.
Albert was quietly pleased to hear their news, although it was not his way to enthuse too much. ‘I can’t say I’m surprised,’ he remarked. ‘You two are made for one another. By Jove, this calls for a celebration. Your good news, and our Kathy getting better.’ He took out a bottle of rich dark sherry from the kitchen cupboard and poured it into three glasses.
He raised his own glass. ‘Here’s to the pair of you. I wish you all the happiness you deserve. And to our dear little Kathy, God bless her …’
Winifred noticed that her brother’s eyes were moist with tears.
They had been told that Kathy would need to stay in hospital for at least another week just to make sure that all was well. As Winifred was getting ready to go to church on the following Sunday morning she was feeling that she did, indeed, have a great deal to be thankful for that day. Jeff, who had also started attending the morning service, would be calling for her shortly. To her surprise Albert joined her, dressed in his best suit with a clean white shirt and a colourful tie.
‘I’ll come along with you, if you don’t mind,’ he said, just a trifle sheepishly. ‘I reckon I’ve a lot to thank him up there for an’ all, don’t you?’ He grinned as he gestured towards the ceiling.
‘You have indeed,’ said his sister. ‘And I’m so pleased that you realise it, Albert.’ There was a ring at the doorbell.
‘There’s Jeff,’ she said. ‘Come along; let’s go.’
PART TWO
Chapter Seventeen
1961
Kathy stood by one of the large pillars that surrounded the Empress ballroom. She was trying to look nonchalant as she watched the dancers drifting by, as though she was not a wallflower or at all eager that someone – anyone – should ask her to dance.
She had come with her friend, Marcia, whom she had met at night school. Her father approved of Marcia; he thought she was a decent, well-brought-up girl as, indeed, she was. But there was another side to Marcia that Albert Leigh knew nothing about. She could be very silly and giggly when she had had a drop too much to drink; and it didn’t take much – only a couple of shandies – to make Marcia lose her inhibitions, although, to be honest, Kathy thought that she put it on a bit. And, besides that, she was a dreadful flirt. Kathy watched her now as she jigged past with the RAF lad who had asked her to dance, laughing up into his face and behaving in what both Kathy’s father and her aunt would consider to be a most indecorous manner.
Marcia was a blonde, a very attractive, vivacious, blue-eyed blonde, although she could appear sweet and demure when she wanted to. It seemed that the old adage that men preferred blondes was true, because Marcia was always the first to be asked to dance.
But it didn’t worry Kathy all that much. She knew that after the dance Marcia would come back to her. The RAF lad would most likely be only a bit of fun, easily forgotten, and the two girls would go home together at the end of the evening. Marcia, in fact, was engaged to a young man who was doing his national service in Germany. She was twenty years of age, two years older than Kathy, but she saw no reason, she said, to stay at home being miserable whilst Eric was overseas.
Kathy enjoyed her company and she liked to think that, maybe, she was a steadying influence on Marcia, there to prevent her going completely off the rails. It was only quite recently that Kathy’s father had agreed to her going to the local dance halls. He drew the line at the Tower, which he considered for some reason to be ‘common’; but he had set his seal of approval on the Winter Gardens – the Empress ballroom – or the Palace which, Kathy gathered, held certain memories for him. But he was not one to give too much of himself away. She seemed to remember that he used to go dancing at the Palace with Sally Roberts before that friendship had come to an abrupt end. That was round about the time of the accident. And it was following that occurrence that her father had started taking a good deal more interest in her, Kathy.
The dance was coming to an end, the couples applauding as the band stopped playing, as they always did. Marcia would be back with her soon. But before she saw her friend she heard a voice at the side of her.
‘Kathy? It is you, isn’t it? Kathy Leigh …’ She turned to look at the young man in the khaki uniform of a soldier who was addressing her. A thickset young man, not very tall, with a shock of fair hair that stood up on end, a pair of bright blue eyes and a wide smiling mouth.
‘Tim!’ she cried. ‘Timothy Fielding! Well, fancy that! I haven’t seen you for ages. Where have you been?’
He laughed. ‘Well, that’s pretty bloomin’ obvious, isn’t it? I’m in the army!’
‘National Service?’ enquired Kathy.
‘No, the regulars,’ replied Tim. ‘I joined the REME when I was seventeen and a half – as soon as they would take me! I signed on for three years.’
‘REME?’ queried Kathy.
‘Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers,’ said Tim. ‘I would have just missed National Service, you see – it finished last year – and I didn’t want to miss out on the experience. Call me daft, if you like!’ he laughed. ‘Actually, it was to give me a good grounding in my career, which I find it is doing. I’m training to be an electrician. I’m stationed up at Catterick Camp, and I’ve just got a spot of leave. It’s great to see you again, Kathy. Come and have a drink with me, will you? Or … are you with someone?’
Marcia was coming back, on the arm of the RAF lad.
‘Yes, I am, actually,’ she replied. ‘I came with my friend, but I’m sure she won’t mind. Marcia, this is Tim, an old friend of mine from schooldays.’ The two nodded at one another and mumbled, ‘How do you do?’
‘We’re going to have a drink and catch up on old times,’ said Kathy. ‘Is that OK with you?’
‘Sure it is,’ replied Marcia. ‘This is Simon; he’s taking me for a drink as well, but we won’t play gooseberry.’ She winked at Kathy. ‘I’ll meet you later, then, shall I? In the usual place at eleven o’clock?’ They usually met in the Floral Hall, at the top of the steps that led down to the cloakroom, when the dance was coming to an end.
Kathy nodded. ‘Yes, see you later.’ She drew her friend to one side. ‘Watch what you’re doing now,’ she said in a whisper. ‘Don’t forget about Eric!’
‘It’s all right.’ Marcia grinned. ‘Simon’s a good laugh, that’s all. I’ve already told him I’m spoken for. So is he, actually. He’s from Birmingham and he’s got a fiancée there. Cheerio, then. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’
Marcia’s new friend was one of the myriad RAF men, mainly the last intake of National Service recruits, who were to be seen in the streets of Blackpool and in the local dance halls and cinemas. They were stationed at the nearby camps at Weeton and Warton.
Timothy led Kathy to a quiet corner of a bar near to the ballroom. ‘Now, what are you drinking?’ he asked. ‘A pint of best bitter, or something more ladylike?’
She laughed. ‘A shandy, please; just a small one, with ginger beer, not lemonade.’
‘Okey doke …’ He was back in a few minutes with a brimming pint glass for himself and a smaller one for her.
‘Cheers,’ he said, raising his glass. ‘It really is the most wonderful thing, bumping into you. I must say, you’re looking stunning! You always liked red, didn’t you? I remember your red jumpers at school and the red ribbons in your hair.’ He was smiling at her with the fondness of their remembered friendship.
‘Yes, I run pretty true to form, don’t I?’ she replied, smiling back at him.
She knew that the dress suited her. It was a pinkish shade of red, like crushed strawberries – a simple sleeveless shift style in the new terylene material, with a knee-length skirt,
a rounded neckline, and a neat black bow at the low waistline. Her Aunt Winifred often helped her to make her own clothes, but she had bought this one from her favourite dress shop, Sally Mae’s.
‘It’s great to see you again, Tim,’ she told him. ‘It’s been years, hasn’t it? I’m surprised you recognised me.’
‘You haven’t changed at all,’ he said, looking at her admiringly.
‘No, neither have you,’ she answered.
She had lost touch with him when they had both left junior school as they had gone to different secondary schools; most schools in Blackpool were single-sex ones anyway. Tim had attended a secondary modern school – he was a bright boy but one who did not apply himself as well as he might – whereas she, Kathy, had attended the only commercial school in the town.
She had almost – but never entirely – forgotten about him. She had seen him occasionally at church dances, which were the only dances her father would let her attend when she was in her early teens. Tim had never asked her to go out with him; it was doubtful, anyway, that she would have been allowed to go out with a boy before she was sixteen. And Tim, at that time, had been far more interested in knocking around with his mates, although he had always seemed pleased to see her and have a chat with her. Then, a few years ago, he had seemed to disappear off the scene completely. She asked him about that now.
‘Do you still live in Blackpool – I mean, when you’re not away doing your army service?’ she asked. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you for – what? – it must be three or four years.’
‘Yes, my parents still live here, and my younger brother and sister,’ he replied. ‘You didn’t see me because I was working away. When I left school I started an apprenticeship with a firm of electricians, and I was sent away on a lot of jobs out of town – Preston, Wigan, Blackburn, some as far away as Yorkshire – so I wasn’t in Blackpool very much. Then I decided to join up.’
Time Goes By Page 18
