by June Francis
‘Ben, wait!’ She sounded so stricken that he weakened and faced her.
Sarah pressed herself against him and looped her arms about his neck. ‘Ben, Ben, I’ve made a terrible mistake.’ Her dark eyes were drowning in tears. ‘I’m truly sorry for the things I said to you. I know I’ve behaved badly. I did fancy your Mick a little bit – but it’s you I love, really. Honest, I do!’
He stared down at her and his brother’s voice suddenly echoed in his head and he thought: If I capitulate now, how will I know if she really means what she says and it isn’t just because she thinks she might have lost our Mick to Celia? Ben thought he loved her enough to cope with her insecurities and moods for life, but needed to know for sure that she loved him. He loosened her hands from about his neck and brought them down to hold between his. ‘I’ll think about what you’ve said. But at the moment I’m too upset about Katie leaving to make any big decisions.’
‘Katie! It’s always her,’ said Sarah in a petulant voice. ‘She’s no longer your responsibility but Mick’s and Celia’s! It’s me that needs you, Ben.’
‘Ma needs me. And if you had any heart, Sarah, you’d be thinking about her. All her dreams were wrapped up in our Katie. How do you think she’s feeling now?’
‘You know I’ve always been fond of your mother. She’s always accepted me as I am.’ Tears rolled down Sarah’s cheeks and Ben was almost unmanned. He wanted to lick them away and kiss her better and have her arms go round him and for her to hold him in the way he desperately needed. Instead he dropped her hands and went inside and this time closed the door very firmly behind him.
Chapter Nine
Katherine pressed her forehead against the window as hailstones rattled on the glass like bullets from a machine-gun and wished herself out there where she could feel their icy sting upon her face. It would have been exhilarating to walk along the pier battling with the elements; much more fun than staying here in the boarding house where they had been for the last two weeks. The week before, they had gone to Rhyl and that had not been too bad because the weather had been better, but now it had changed again. Even so, the room was far too warm for her liking. But that was how Celia liked it, and who was she to complain? Celia had told her that when she was her age there had often been no coal to burn and no pennies for the gas meter so that now she was older she really appreciated the warmth of a good electric fire, even if she had to put shillings in the meter.
‘Come away from the window, Katherine. You’ll catch your death standing there,’ she said, putting down her book and reaching for the box on the floor. ‘What a summer! Have a chocolate, luv?’ She gazed anxiously at her daughter. ‘You can afford to put on a bit of weight. I bought these as a special treat.’
‘No, thanks. I’m not hungry.’ She had not felt really hungry since she had left the Arcadia. The first few days her throat had ached constantly as she fought against tears every time she thought of the family and not belonging to them any more. She had had to keep telling herself that they had deceived her and she was where she rightfully belonged now.
She moved away from the window and sat on one of the beds, thinking that Celia had bought so many special treat chocolates since last week that they were no longer special. ‘When are you going back to work?’
‘Soon,’ she said, avoiding her daughter’s eyes. ‘You do like this room, don’t you?’ Again there was that anxious note in her voice. ‘I thought it would be nice for us to have a little holiday.’
‘It’s a nice room,’ she replied, and it was, but it was not the Arcadia. She swallowed a sigh. The boarding house was situated in a row of terraces and their room overlooked a street with trees. ‘It’s just that I’m thinking about money and wondering if I could get a job in the Seaview alongside you? I don’t want you keeping me and using up all your savings.’
‘What savings? I’ve never had any money to save.’ Celia chuckled. ‘Came into a little windfall, I did. I’m like me gran, I enjoy a little flutter.’
‘You mean, you won some money?’
She winked. ‘Somebody has to win. Why not me?’
‘Did you win much?’ Katherine caught herself up quickly. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’ She was thinking of her own dwindling savings and having not written to the family yet because she did not know what to say.
‘It doesn’t matter, luv. But I’m still not going to tell you. I don’t like talking about money. Too many people boast of what they’ve got and what others haven’t.’
That was true, thought Katherine, but it was not an answer to her problem. ‘It’s just that I’m not used to sitting around doing nothing,’ she murmured. ‘Why don’t we go to the Seaview and see if they’ll give me a job?’
‘No!’ Celia pressed her lips tightly together.
‘Why not? It makes sense,’ she said in coaxing tones. ‘With two wages coming in, we might be able to afford a decent flat.’
‘We can’t go back to the Seaview,’ muttered Celia. ‘Don’t you see, she can trace us there! It’ll be the first place they’ll look and I don’t want them finding out where we are. They might persuade you to go back to them.’
Katherine’s heart leapt at the thought of the family looking for her, then plummeted again. She had to stick this out. Her eyes focused on her mother’s face. ‘Have you given up your job there, then?’
Celia nodded. ‘I’ll find us jobs, don’t you worry.’
‘Can’t we go looking now?’
She sighed. ‘Give it a rest, luv. I’ve worked all my life and I’m not young any more. D’you know, I’ve never had a holiday before so what’s wrong with me taking a few weeks off now? I know of a few boarding houses who are always short of staff and they’ll be glad to take us on later. Despite the weather, you can guarantee some people’ll still be taking their holidays here. And there’s the Southport Show at the end of this month and folk’ll flock in to attend that.’
Katherine felt like saying, ‘But if we haven’t a proper home and need to earn the money for rent and board, it’s the wrong time for us to take a holiday!’ Besides, she didn’t trust the kind of places Celia mentioned. If an employer treated their staff well, they stayed. She had not said so but when she had gone out for some fresh air on her own yesterday she had had an unsuccessful go at finding a job for herself, thinking perhaps it might be better if she and Celia were not in each other’s company all the time. Mostly, though, it was because she felt a need to be doing something. ‘I think I’ll go for a walk,’ she said now.
‘In this weather?’ Celia glanced in the direction of the window and shivered.
‘Yes,’ said Katherine firmly. ‘I’ve got to have some exercise or I’ll go mad.’
‘You’ve got young legs, that’s what it is,’ said Celia, smiling. ‘I remember when I was your age, I could walk for hours and not get tired.’
‘Who did you walk with?’ Katherine took a comb from her handbag and, gazing into the mirror on the chest of drawers, managed to twist her long hair up into a knot. She applied a dusting of face powder and lipstick and then went over to the window and rubbed a clear patch in the condensation. ‘The sun’s coming out. There’s a rainbow over towards the sea.’
‘That’s a good sign,’ said her mother, yawning. ‘I learnt that in Sunday School. God places them there to remind Him never to destroy mankind again. That’s why there’s still some bad ’uns about, so you watch out for them! You’ve been protected living at the Arcadia. Now you’re out in the big bad world and, I can tell you, there’s plenty of people around ready to knock a person down.’
Katherine thought, I wasn’t that protected that I don’t know there’s evil in the world. Even so she said, ‘I’ll be careful.’ She checked the seams of her stockings were straight before taking a yellow raincoat from the hook on the back of the door. ‘See you later.’
Once outside she experienced an enormous sense of release and almost skipped down the road, breathing deeply of the cool damp air which tasted di
fferent from the Liverpool variety; despite all the talk in the Echo about cleaning it up, it still had a gritty texture to it sometimes. Tears pricked her eyes again as she thought of the family but she told herself not to be such a wet. It was not as if she was never going to see them again. She could go back anytime she liked – but she knew she wouldn’t. Not just yet anyway. She needed to come to terms with who she was, now she was with her natural mother. Celia did need someone to take care of her much more than Ma did; she had three men to look after her. But Katherine had to find a job!
After a bit of a walk she came to Hesketh Park and the Clarence Hotel. With the sea, a golf course and park nearby, it was in a good position. She remembered seeing the hotel advertised in the Southport Guide left lying around in Ben’s bedroom. ‘Unanimous verdict – best value obtainable’ it had had blazoned at the bottom of the page. She had wondered who it was who had worded that banner recommendation, and drawing on the confidence of one brought up in the business, ran up the steps, only slowing down when she saw the woman arranging flowers in the lobby.
‘May I speak to Mrs Ashton, please?’ asked Katherine.
‘You have a reservation?’
‘No.’ She smiled and said with an air of confidentiality, ‘I’ve come to offer my services.’
The woman drew back slightly. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I’m very experienced. I grew up in the business and can do a bit of everything. Wait at table – clean – handle Reception – balance the books – cook.’
‘You’ve come to the wrong place,’ said the woman in a voice so frigid that Katherine almost winced. ‘Cuisine is our speciality heah! We are not looking for a Jill-of-all-trades, so if you could take yourself orf?’
She almost did but a man came through a doorway at that moment and smiled at her. ‘Who’s this?’ he asked.
‘No one for you to concern yourself with, Albert,’ said the woman with a twitch of her majestic bosom. ‘If you could check today’s newspapers are in a fit state in the lounge, I would appreciate it.’
The man, who was tall and gawky with a moustache and receding hair, continued to smile at Katherine. ‘Have I seen you before?’
‘Only if you’ve ever stayed at the Arcadia Hotel in Liverpool,’ she said promptly, returning his smile.
‘I’d guessed the Liverpool,’ said the woman, tut-tutting. ‘Southport is a very different kettle of fish, my girl. Now if you’d like to leave …’
‘I’m going,’ said Katherine with a wry smile. ‘I can tell when I’m not wanted.’
‘Hang on there,’ said Albert, resting an elbow on the desk and cocking one mobile eyebrow at the woman. ‘Maggie, old girl, haven’t we anything?’
‘No, we have not,’ she said crossly. ‘And for years I’ve been telling you that I hate being called Maggie!’
He turned to Katherine and said in a low voice, ‘Sorry, my dear. Do come and see us some other time. Staff are inclined to come and go pretty smartly here.’
She thanked him and thought if she’d only had him to contend with she would definitely come back, but the dragon in Reception had rather put her orf.
She tried several more places but it was definitely a no go area at the Mayfair, where dogs were welcome at three shilling and sixpence a day but not Liverpudlians who were seventeen with no references and only a boarding house for an address. She tried several more places and some told her to apply in writing as they might need extra staff later in the season and others met her request with a straight refusal.
Her feet began to ache in her high-heeled shoes so that she was almost hobbling when she headed once more in the direction of the Promenade where she remembered seeing a medium-sized hotel called the Lancaster which had looked a decent enough place.
The sea breeze blew moisture from the striped awning overhead and splattered her raincoat as she took the two steps leading to the hotel’s entrance. She turned the brass knob on the front door and went inside.
The entrance hall was much of a muchness with the Arcadia and without hesitation she approached the man wearing a pinstripe suit sitting behind the reception desk. He had smoothed-back shiny brown hair and she guessed he was around the same age as Mick. He flashed her a smile. ‘Can I help you, miss?’
She did not hesitate. ‘Miss Katherine Mcdonald. Are you the proprietor?’
‘That’s right. I’m Mr Walsh.’ He flicked open the leatherbound book on the desk in front of him and lifted his eyes, which on close inspection were lugubrious and had bags under them as if he hadn’t slept much lately. ‘Do you require a room, Miss Mcdonald?’
‘I’m sure your rooms are very nice,’ she said with a candid smile, ‘but no. I’m seeking employment and wondered if you had any vacancies? I do have experience in the hotel trade and am prepared to do anything because due to family reasons I’ve had to leave my last job and –’
He interrupted her. ‘You are Liverpudlian?’
She said frankly, ‘Would you hold it against me if I said yes?’
He smiled. ‘My wife’s a Liverpudlian. I’m sorry, but we’ve just taken on extra staff.’
Katherine’s spirits sank and she was about to turn away when he stopped her. ‘You say you’re prepared to do anything? Do you mean that?’
‘Yes,’ she said swiftly, knees unexpectedly weak with relief.
‘And are you prepared to work in Liverpool?’
She could not believe it. ‘What is this? You’re offering me a job in a hotel in Liverpool?’
He opened a flap in the desk. ‘Come with me. If you’re not fussy, my wife may have something for you.’
Before Katherine could even think of asking him what he meant by ‘not fussy’ he vanished through a door to the right of the desk. She followed him into a small sitting room where a woman lay stretched out on a sofa with a plaid rug thrown over her legs. There was a Moses basket on two chairs beside her and from it came the mewling of a very young baby.
‘Hettie, this is Miss Katherine Mcdonald and she’s looking for a job. She says she’ll do anything and I’ve told her you might have a job for her in Liverpool. I’ll leave you two alone.’ He smiled encouragingly at them before closing the door behind him.
‘Well! The nerve of the man!’ exclaimed Mrs Walsh as soon as he had gone. She looked to be at least ten years younger than her husband, with hair cropped close to her head and curled in an unruly fashion about her small face. She gave an impish smile. ‘He didn’t tell you what the job is, did he? You probably won’t want it when I tell you.’
‘I’ll do it! Just tell me what it is,’ said Katherine, almost jumping up and down with impatience.
Mrs Walsh shook her head. ‘You won’t want it. I don’t want it! Even if I could do it, which I can’t with the baby and this place to run. Besides, you’re probably too young.’ She looked doubtfully at her. ‘Although young and strong is just what she needs …’
‘Who?’ cried Katherine, liking the look of the woman but wishing she would get to the point.
‘My gran!’ wailed Hettie Walsh, staring helplessly at her. ‘She’s an awld bitch but she needs help … not that she’ll admit it.’
‘What kind of help?’ asked Katherine cautiously.
‘In her shop. She’s almost crippled with rheumatism but refuses to give up the shop. It’s been a way of life with her since before she was married. She’s had more assistants than I’ve fingers since my mother died, but none of them’ll put up with her because she’s her own worst enemy. It’s the pain that makes her like that, you understand. She hasn’t always been that way. She won’t come and live here – not that I believe that’d work – so the only thing I can think of is for me to pay for help so she can carry on as long as possible where she is.’
‘But we’ve no place to live in Liverpool.’
‘That’s OK. If you’re not fussy there’s a couple of empty rooms above those which my gran uses over the shop. She could do with someone there round the clock. By the way, who’s we?�
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Katherine barely hesitated. ‘My mother.’ The job was not what she really wanted but it was better than nothing. Besides she was used to being nice to people, especially elderly ladies who came into town from the wilds of Lancashire or Wales to see a show or go shopping. Although sick, stubborn old ladies who wanted to carry on running a shop weren’t her style – but maybe that was where her mother would prove useful.
Mrs Walsh sighed. ‘You don’t want the job? I knew it. It’s a tough one, isn’t it?’
‘You’ve been very honest.’
‘No sense in lying,’ interrupted the older woman. ‘You’d soon find out the truth. It would need a saint to take on the job.’
‘It’s not what I was looking for, but maybe I would be interested. What kind of shop is it?’
‘A pet shop. That’s another problem – not everybody can cope with animals.’
Katherine stared at her and vaguely remembered Celia mentioning something about her mother’s having kept a pet shop. Perhaps this offer of a job could be the one to tempt her away from taking too long a holiday? ‘My mother worked in a pet shop when she was a girl. If she can come too then maybe we’ll consider it.’ She felt certain that she herself would be able to find something else, if the job Mrs Walsh had described was not enough for two of them. After all, the country was supposed to be crying out for workers now the dark years of austerity were behind them.
A grin lit up Mrs Walsh’s face. ‘She sounds like the answer to my prayer, but perhaps the pair of you had better have a look at the place first and meet Gran?’
‘No harm in having a decko,’ said Katherine. ‘Do you want to know something about us? I mean, you don’t know us from Adam.’
‘You look OK to me,’ said Mrs Walsh cheerfully. ‘Now let me give you Gran’s address and you can get back to me as soon as possible.’
Celia was standing at the window looking out for her when Katherine arrived back at the boarding house. As soon as she entered the room, her mother pounced. ‘Where’ve you been? I thought you must have gone back to her, the time you were!’
