The Lost Daughters: A moving saga of womanhood

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  When Gerald called for her she’d been ready for more than half an hour. Standing just out of sight behind the front room curtains, she watched patiently for the car. When she saw the long sleek bonnet of his new silver E-type Jaguar turn into the road and draw up outside she ran through to the living room where the family sat at their evening meal.

  ‘Gerald’s here,’ she said breathlessly. ‘See you later.’

  ‘All right, love. Have a nice time,’ Johnny smiled.

  As the door closed Mrs Bains looked up, chewing on her steak and kidney pie ruminatively. ‘Mark my words, there’ll be no good come out of that,’ she muttered darkly. ‘I don’t like the looks of that chap. Too conceited for his own good if you ask me.’

  Johnny shook her head reprovingly at her mother. ‘Mr Cavelle is Cathy’s legal guardian, Mother,’ she said. ‘He’s a famous concert pianist and he was Mr Oldham’s best friend. Besides,’ she added for good measure, ‘I think he’s rather handsome.’

  Mrs Bains gave her characteristic grunt. ‘Huh! Handsome is as handsome does,’ she said predictably.

  Matthew grinned across the table at his mother. ‘You walked right into that, didn’t you, Mum?’

  *

  The restaurant Gerald had chosen was quiet. There was a small dance floor and a band that played quietly and discreetly as they dined. Cathy thought Gerald looked a little thinner; tired too, but that was understandable after the heavy schedule of his recent tour. She asked him to tell her about the places he’d visited.

  ‘You won’t believe me when I tell you that the little I saw of any of the cities I visited was seen through cab windows,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘All I really saw was concert halls, hotel rooms and airport departure lounges.’

  ‘I always hoped Dad would go on tour sometime and take me with him,’ Cathy confessed. ‘But he said he wasn’t good enough to be a concert pianist. I’m sure that wasn’t true, was it?’

  She looked at him so appealingly that he couldn’t meet her eyes as he answered. ‘Your father wasn’t as lucky as me. I had a wealthy grandfather who paid for me to study and kept me going until I was established.’

  ‘Did you? I didn’t know that.’ She stirred her coffee thoughtfully. ‘Did you know that Dad used to compose?’

  ‘No, did he?’

  ‘Yes. I used to think he might be successful with that someday. When we cleared the house I was hoping to find some of his manuscripts up in the attic.’ She shook her head. ‘He must have destroyed them all when he knew he was ill. He never had any confidence in himself, you know.’

  ‘You still miss him, don’t you?’

  She looked up at him. ‘I always will,’ she said. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop missing him, however much it hurts. Because if I ever did it would mean I’d started to forget and that’s the last thing I want.’

  He looked at her for a long moment. ‘It must feel very special to be loved as much as that,’ he said wistfully. He took a deep breath and smiled at her. ‘Now, I suppose this is where I should ask you what you’re planning to do next. What’s it to be? A levels … University … ?’

  ‘Neither. I want to leave school,’ she told him. ‘There were two things I fancied doing: one was nursing and the other was domestic science. But you can’t start training to be a nurse till you’re eighteen. That would mean hanging around for another four months. So it’s going to be domestic science, or rather Home Economics. There’s a technical college quite near where I can go so I’ll be able to stay on at Johnny’s.’

  He was laughing. ‘You’re a young lady in a hurry, aren’t you?’

  She shrugged. ‘I’ve made up my mind. That’s all.’

  ‘Why Home Economics? I’d have thought with all those academic subjects, good grades … ’

  She sighed. ‘Why do people always think that domestic science is for idiots? There are a lot of good careers to be had with an HE diploma. And anyway, it’s what I want. Why should I do something I don’t like just because I got good grades?’

  He held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘All right. I bow to your superior knowledge of the subject.’ He reached across the table to pat her cheek. ‘You’ll make some lucky man a wonderful and accomplished wife some day,’ he said.

  She blushed and looked away. Did he really mean that, or was he just patronising her?

  *

  Cathy began her Home Economics course at the local technical college at the end of September. She enjoyed it and made some new friends. Occasionally she ran into some of the girls from St Margaret’s. Carla envied her. She admitted that she was finding her A level studies a bore and complained about the mass of homework she took home every evening.

  ‘And to think I’ve let myself in for two years of it,’ she wailed.

  Rosalind, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying herself. When they met one rainy November evening at the bus stop she told Cathy she was taking Geography, Sociology, English and Maths. Hotel management was still her aim, she explained. She was interested in Cathy’s course.

  ‘Maybe some time in the future we’ll find ourselves working together,’ she said. ‘After all, your subject and mine aren’t entirely unrelated, are they?’

  Cathy told her about the Saturday job she had just taken at the restaurant of the Queen’s Head.

  ‘It’s a small place and you have to be willing to do a bit of everything,’ she said. ‘I help in the kitchen and occasionally wait on tables when they are busy or short-staffed. I think they’re looking for another weekend girl. If you’re interested I could ask for you.’ She smiled. ‘We could be working together sooner than you think.’

  During the autumn Gerald was away again. Cathy received postcards from Switzerland and Edinburgh, but he was back in England again at the beginning of November and one Sunday he took Cathy out to lunch. He asked her what she planned to do at Christmas.

  ‘Nothing special, just spending it at home as usual,’ she said. ‘Johnny loves Christmas and we always have a nice time. Why, what are you going to do?’

  ‘I thought I might go abroad somewhere,’ he told her. ‘I have this favourite little place in Switzerland. It’s high in the mountains and quite breathtaking in winter. I wondered if you might like to come with me?’

  For a moment she was speechless with surprise. ‘Why me?’ She blushed. ‘I mean — it’s nice of you to ask me, but there must be someone who’s longing for you to ask them.’

  He smiled at her. ‘I rather thought that someone might be you.’

  She laughed. ‘You’re teasing me. You must have a friend — a girlfriend?’

  ‘Actually no. At least, not one who likes me enough to spend a whole Christmas with me.’

  ‘Oh.’ She bit her lip, wondering just what that might mean. ‘It’s not that I wouldn’t like to go, Gerald,’ she said. ‘It’s just that I think it’s only fair to help Johnny. There’s always such a lot to do.’ She looked at him. ‘I know. Why don’t I ask if you can join us?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t want to impose. Besides, I have the distinct feeling that old Mrs Bains disapproves of me. I find that baleful look of hers and those snide remarks rather off-putting.’

  ‘You shouldn’t take any notice of that. She’s the same with all of us. It doesn’t mean anything.’

  He slipped an arm round her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry about me. It was just an idea. I’ll be fine.’

  She frowned. ‘But what will you do? Where will you go?’

  ‘Probably nowhere. I’ll stay at the flat and watch all the old films and Christmas Specials on the box.’

  ‘Oh, Gerald.’ Cathy chewed her lip, then suddenly she brightened. ‘I know, I’ll come and cook your Christmas dinner for you.’ She pulled a comic face at him. ‘If you think you’re brave enough to risk it.’

  He laughed. ‘That sounds wonderful. But what about Mrs Johnson?’

  ‘All the hard work will be over by then and she won’t mind if it’s just for Christmas Day,’ sh
e said. ‘She’ll probably invite you back for Boxing Day. Well, what do you say?’

  He smiled. ‘If you really want to do it, I’d love it.’

  *

  Cathy shopped for all the ingredients of the Christmas dinner, leaving Gerald to buy the wine only.

  ‘I haven’t learned enough about that yet,’ she confessed to him. ‘I’d probably choose something awful and poison you.’

  He collected her and all the bags laden with Christmas fare early on Christmas morning and drove back to the West End. She found the flat looking much as she remembered it; almost clinically tidy and unlived-in. To Cathy it seemed unnaturally so.

  Gerald had been surprised when he learned that she hadn’t taken him up on his offer to use the place in his absence. Seeing her gazing longingly at Daniel’s piano, he invited her to play it.

  ‘I had it tuned when I got back from the tour,’ he said, ‘along with my own. They get so neglected and the central heating is bad for them.’ He saw her hesitating. ‘What’s the matter — out of practice?’

  She nodded. ‘Afraid so.’

  ‘What does it matter? There’s no one here but us.’

  She went over to the piano and ran her fingers lightly over the keyboard. The familiar smooth feel of the ivory brought back nostalgic memories of those Saturday afternoons; the precious times she and her father spent together. Sliding on to the stool she flexed her fingers and began to play a little Chopin nocturne. When the last note had died away she felt Gerald’s hand on her shoulder.

  ‘You play very nicely,’ he said.

  She looked up at him with a wry smile. ‘Exactly. That’s why I didn’t even try to take it up seriously.’

  He looked dismayed. ‘Oh, but I didn’t mean … ’

  ‘It’s okay, Gerald,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to flatter me. The only reason I kept on with my lessons was that it was the one time I could count on getting Dad to myself for a while. I know I haven’t inherited his talent.’ She swivelled round on the stool. ‘Now, I’d better get that turkey into the oven.’ She looked up at him. ‘Are you going to help?’

  He laughed. ‘You bet. That’s half the fun, isn’t it? You’ll have to tell me what to do though.’

  The kitchen at the flat was equipped with every modern convenience. There was even a dishwasher and an electric tin opener, which intrigued Cathy. Gerald submitted to having an apron tied around his waist and, under Cathy’s supervision, set about preparing the vegetables. When everything was under control he opened a bottle of wine and poured her a glass.

  ‘I think we’ve earned this,’ he said. ‘And I must say I’m impressed. You’ve learned a lot during your first term at college.’

  She laughed. ‘I learned most of this years ago,’ she told him. ‘Dad and I had been on our own a long time, remember?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And Johnny taught me how to cook.’

  ‘It’s as I said. Some day you’re going to … ’

  She stopped him with a look. ‘Don’t laugh at me, Gerald!’

  His face dropped. ‘My dear girl, I wasn’t.’

  ‘That’s all right then. You can’t go around pretending that a girl’s only ambition is to walk down the aisle in white satin nowadays, you know.’

  He looked suitably chastened. ‘I stand corrected.’

  She grinned disarmingly. ‘That’s okay then. You can set the table if you want to be really useful.’

  After her admonishing remark Gerald was careful about what he said. Therefore when he complimented her on her cooking his tone was guarded. Her gracious response to his compliment filled him with relief.

  ‘Cooking can be as much of an art as music,’ she told him gravely. ‘And as creative.’

  ‘So you’ve just proved,’ he said diplomatically.

  After they’d eaten he gave her his present: a beautiful pair of earrings in pearl and jade that he’d bought in New York. They’d originally been chosen for Kay, whose birthday was in October, but he hadn’t seen or heard from her since she’d flounced out of the hotel on what had proved to be the last day of his tour. And the green of the jade went so well with Cathy’s colouring that it was easy to pretend they’d been bought especially for her.

  When she opened them she was overwhelmed. ‘Oh, Geraldl I’ve never seen anything so lovely. I’ll cherish them always.’ She passed his neatly wrapped gift across the table to him. ‘I’m afraid this makes mine look so cheap.’

  ‘Nonsense. I’m sure I shall love it.’ He unwrapped the tie she had chosen so carefully and exclaimed with pleasure.

  ‘Exactly what I wanted. It will go perfectly with my new jacket.’

  ‘You’re just saying that.’

  ‘No, really.’ He got up and held out his hand. ‘Let’s have our coffee by the fire. I’ve got something to tell you.’

  He poured a cup of the coffee he had insisted on making himself and handed it to her. ‘My one culinary accomplishment,’ he told her as he sat down opposite her.

  She sniffed at her cup. ‘It smells delicious.’

  ‘I always bring a supply back from Switzerland when I go.’

  She sipped appreciatively, looking at him over the rim of her cup. ‘You said you had something to tell me.’

  ‘Yes. I’ve made a rather momentous decision, Cathy. I’m retiring from the concert platform — giving up my playing.’

  She stared at him, lost for words. ‘Giving up? But surely … ?’

  ‘Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that playing is giving me up,’ he went on. ‘I’ve developed a slight — health problem.’

  Putting down her cup, she stared at him, her eyes filled with concern. ‘Gerald, what is it? Please tell me.’

  He shook his head, smiling. ‘Nothing for you to worry about. It’s a — a kind of arthritis, I suppose you could call it; a stiffening of the joints. I had a lot of trouble with it on the tour.’

  ‘But — but that’s terrible. Your music — you’re at the height of your career. Surely you can’t just throw it all away?’

  He smiled ruefully. ‘I don’t seem to have much choice in the matter. I’ve still got some time to run on my recording contract. I’ll be able to fulfil that. Mistakes can always be edited out. But I’m afraid live concerts are out from now on.’

  She moved across to him and took his hands in hers, looking down at them. They looked as strong and powerful as ever. It was hard to believe that they were not. She looked up into his eyes. ‘Isn’t there something they can do?’

  ‘Nothing, I’m afraid.’

  ‘But — don’t you mind terribly?’

  He sighed. ‘Oh, I don’t know. At first it was a blow, but I’ve had time to think since and I’ve got a few plans chasing round inside my head.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Ah, that’d be telling.’ He bent towards her and kissed her forehead. ‘I promise you this though. As soon as one of them begins to take shape, you’ll be the first to hear about it.’

  They stacked the dishwasher together and sat down to watch the Christmas afternoon movie on television. But Cathy couldn’t concentrate on it. All she could think of was the devastating sacrifice that Gerald was having to make. What could she do to make it up to him? Looking across the room in the fading winter afternoon light she watched his profile. The firelight accentuated the hollows under his cheekbones and deepened the eye sockets so that she couldn’t see his eyes at all — couldn’t even begin to guess what he was feeling. Her heart stirred and she got up quietly and went to sit on the floor at his feet, laying her head on his knee. She felt his hand stroking her hair and presently she raised her head to look up at him.

  ‘Oh, Gerald. Are you dreadfully unhappy?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. And I’ll tell you why. I’ve found that when you lose something in life there’s always a compensation — something to take its place.’

  ‘Or someone,’ she said. ‘Like you came along for me when Dad died.’

  ‘Th
at’s a very sweet thing to say.’

  ‘But it’s true. You helped me so much. I hope I can help you now that you need someone, Gerald. You will let me, won’t you?’

  He didn’t speak for a moment, then he said quietly, ‘You learn who your friends are on occasions like this, you know.’

  She turned, kneeling to look at him better. ‘Are you saying that your friends have deserted you?’

  ‘I have to confess that it does feel a bit like that.’ He sighed. ‘But there again, I’m a firm believer that you get what you deserve. Maybe I haven’t been a very good friend to others in the past.’

  ‘I can’t believe that.’

  ‘Oh, but you should. My kind of life leaves very little room for loyal friendships.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got mine and you always will have,’ she said firmly.

  He leaned forward and took her face between his hands. ‘Thank you, Cathy. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. Will you do something for me?’

  ‘Of course. Anything.’

  ‘Will you please let what I’ve told you be between ourselves for the present? It isn’t common knowledge and I’m not sure that I want it to be. There’s a lot for me to sort out before I make it generally known that I’m retiring too, so keep that under your hat too, will you?’

  ‘Of course. I won’t say anything, I promise.’

  Still cupping her face in his hands he drew her towards him and kissed her very gently on the lips. As she felt his mouth, warm and firm on hers, she caught her breath, closing her eyes as she felt the room spin around her. Reaching up, she wound her arms about his neck, but after a moment he took them away and kissed her hands, holding them close to his chest.

  ‘Dear little Cathy,’ he whispered. ‘You’ve grown up, haven’t you? You’re very sweet, just as I always knew you’d be, and we’ve had a wonderful Christmas Day together. But I’m going to take you home now, before — well, before it’s too late.’

  ‘But you’re coming tomorrow, aren’t you — to spend the day with us?’