A Daughter's Choice

by June Francis

  Katherine felt as if everything had suddenly gone still and the muscles in her face had frozen. She could not have spoken to save her life.

  ‘You see, love,’ said Kitty earnestly, leaning towards her, ‘I need the money. Ben wants to go into business and be his own boss, and now he and Sarah are married there could be babies and I’d like to help him. He’s been a good son to me all these years and never asked anything for himself.’ She paused but still Katherine did not speak and Kitty sighed. ‘Then there’s our old age, love. Pops and I need some money to fall back on if we get ill or the roof falls in on the house in Scotland. Try and understand how it is?’

  Katherine took a firm grip on her bottom lip which was trembling due to her intense disappointment and said, ‘Of course I understand. I think Ben deserves all the help he can get, and you’ve worked so hard all your life you need a rest. I felt terrible when I heard you’d had the heart attack.’ She was visibly trembling now.

  Kitty placed a work-worn hand over hers. ‘It wasn’t your fault. It was my own stupidity. I should have practised what I preached.’

  ‘You did,’ said Katherine in a low voice. ‘You were loving and kind to me always.’

  ‘Well, I did my best. And don’t be thinking I’ll leave you with nothing. You’ll all get something, but you and the other grand-children won’t benefit until you’re all twenty-one.’ She smiled. ‘I don’t know what your plans are, love, but I wouldn’t have you homeless. If you don’t want to live with Celia or Mick, who I believe has offered you a home, you could come and live with us up in Scotland? You’d come in real handy up there. Although I know it mightn’t be much fun in the winter with just us two old fogeys.’

  ‘You’re not an old fogey,’ she whispered, touched.

  ‘Not yet, love, but it won’t be long.’ Kitty patted her grand-daughter’s hand. ‘I’ve said enough. You just let me know what your plans are when you’ve had a chance to think about what I’ve said, but we’d love you with us.’

  Katherine nodded, thinking Ma had not even considered there might be someone else in her life other than the family or that she was old enough now to set up her own household! How was she going to break it to her that she was in love with Patrick? Then she remembered what Ben had said about not upsetting Ma and kept her mouth shut. Instead she said, ‘Did you mean it about Celia coming to tea?’

  Kitty was gazing into the flames but turned her head as Katherine spoke. ‘Yes, love, I did. Why?’

  ‘Could she come on Mothering Sunday as suggested? You didn’t answer. I’d like to be with both the women who’ve mothered me.’

  Kitty was silent a moment. Then she squared her shoulders and said, ‘Anything you like, love, so long as you don’t expect me to get up and start cooking for her.’

  Katherine felt a rush of affection and bent and kissed her cheek, thinking her generosity of spirit made some things just that bit harder. ‘Thanks,’ she whispered, and hurried out before her emotions got the better of her.

  With Pops back and the new girl assisting, Katherine was able to get to the pet shop the next day. As she let herself in, she could hear the wireless and ran upstairs.

  ‘So you’re here again, are yer?’ said Mrs Evans, smiling. ‘Can’t keep away from us, hey, girl?’

  ‘You could say that. Seen anything of Patrick?’

  ‘Not a sign of him,’ said Celia, glancing up from the ironing board and giving her a sharp look. ‘Have you?’

  ‘Not for a week or so. How are you?’

  ‘I’m surviving. You still welcome at the Arcadia?’

  ‘Until it’s sold,’ she said moodily, sitting at the table and placing her chin in her hands. ‘You’re invited to tea on Sunday. Grandma says she owes you an apology. You will come, won’t you? I want you there. It is Mothering Sunday.’

  Celia said tartly, ‘You don’t have to look so glum about it. I’ll come, and I won’t let you down.’

  Katherine was surprised she had agreed so easily. ‘About four o’clock? Is that OK?’

  ‘That’s fine. I won’t be late.’

  Katherine took her word for it and after chattering to Mrs Evans for ten minutes or so, made her excuses and went over to the photographer’s shop but although there was a light on upstairs and she knocked and knocked and rang the bell, no one came. She frowned, wishing she had thought to ask Patrick his address, despite her being a bit apprehensive of calling at his home because she was unsure what kind of reception she would get from his mother. But what was the point of thinking like that? She didn’t know. She just had to hope he would get in touch soon and hope she had not put him off with her talk of going to Scotland to look after Ma.

  Any apprehension Katherine might have felt about Celia’s visit to the Arcadia vanished when she opened the front door and saw her mother dressed in a muted gold knitted jersey suit, with her hair newly set and her make-up carefully applied. She wore matching black gloves, handbag and patent leather high heels. In her ears were large black circular earrings shot through with gold and about her neck were beads of the same colour.

  ‘You look great!’ cried Katherine, clapping her hands and grinning. ‘I’m proud of you.’

  ‘I felt I had to make the effort,’ said Celia, touching the back of her hair in a self-conscious gesture. ‘This was all part of me trousseau.’

  ‘You’ll knock hi— them dead,’ she said.

  ‘That’ll suit me,’ said Celia, a slight quiver in her voice. ‘I haven’t forgotten how I felt last time.’

  ‘You look like a star,’ said Katherine.

  ‘I remember Donny saying something like that when I first had me hair done. He touched it to see if it was real.’

  ‘Come in. We’re eating in the dining room.’

  Celia stepped inside. ‘The family always used to have their meals in the kitchen or the basement in my day.’

  ‘They still do most of the time. But we’re not that busy and there’s quite a crowd of us because Teddy and his daughter Wendy turned up this morning.’

  Celia looked alarmed. ‘I hope there’s not going to be a big fuss! I mean, I haven’t always behaved the way I should.’

  ‘You’re here now so you’ll just have to make the best of it. You look great, just remember that.’

  Celia swallowed and squared her shoulders. ‘You’re right. Deep breaths.’

  It seemed to Celia as Katherine flung open the door to the dining room that it was full of people. Then a silver-haired woman moved forward, holding onto the arm of a tall dark man in his late-thirties. Mick, thought Celia, and still as handsome as ever! But poor Kitty Mcleod, she thought with a sinking heart, wondering if it was her fault that her hair had turned white since last they met.

  ‘Well! You have changed,’ said Kitty, surprise evident in her eyes.

  ‘Me daughter’s influence,’ said Celia, tilting her chin and slipping a hand through Katherine’s arm. ‘You made a smashing job of bringing her up. She knows how to encourage a person.’

  ‘Whereas I didn’t give you much encouragement last time,’ murmured Kitty.

  ‘Best not to go into that now,’ whispered Katherine.

  ‘No,’ said Mick, raising an eyebrow. ‘We don’t want an atmosphere at the table.’

  ‘I haven’t come for an argument but to make things up,’ said Celia, gripping Katherine’s arm the tighter. ‘But I will just say I think she’s grown up a lot in the time she’s spent with me, so maybe it was a good thing I got in touch.’

  ‘There were times when I could gladly have strangled the pair of you,’ said Mick softly. ‘But as you say, let’s not argue. You’re sitting between Katie and me. It’s how she’s arranged it.’

  ‘She can be a bit bossy at times,’ said Celia, still hanging on to Katherine’s arm as she followed him and Kitty over to the laden table.

  ‘You can say that again,’ he murmured.

  ‘D’you mind, both of you?’ said Katherine, pleased they were behaving quite naturally.


  Most of the people were known to Celia, even Jack’s and Vicky’s faces vaguely familiar. Only Wendy, Teddy’s daughter, was a complete unknown.

  ‘Pity Patrick’s not here,’ said Vicky in a low undertone across the table to Katherine as plates were passed round.

  ‘Who’s he?’ asked Wendy, her brown eyes bright as she gazed at Katherine.

  ‘Katie’s boyfriend,’ said Jack.

  ‘Shush!’ hissed Katherine. ‘I’m keeping quiet about him.’

  ‘What was that?’ said Mick, taking some cold cooked meat from a plate.

  Celia pursed her lips and said, ‘They’re talking about Patrick. A lad Katherine’s been seeing. He takes photographs. I think it’s a funny way to earn a living. Not a proper job at all.’

  ‘It is a proper job,’ stated Katherine. ‘It’ll just take time before he’s famous enough to make a lot of money.’

  ‘Are you and he serious?’ asked Wendy.

  Katherine darted a glance at Mick. ‘I’d rather not talk about it.’

  ‘Why?’ persisted Wendy. ‘Does he look like the creature from the Black Lagoon?’

  ‘No! He’s quite nice-looking actually.’ She tried to frown the other girl down but like her father she was nothing if not persistent.

  ‘Then why isn’t he here?’

  ‘Leave her alone, Wendy,’ put in Ben. ‘She has her reasons.’

  ‘Tell us them then? I’m out of touch with what’s going on up here.’

  ‘What are you out of touch with?’ asked Kitty, leaning across the table.

  Katherine groaned as Wendy said, ‘Katie’s boyfriend.’

  ‘She doesn’t have a boyfriend,’ said her grandmother in a severe voice. ‘Now eat up that meat or you’ll soon be slipping between the bars of a grid because there’s nothing of you.’ She turned to Sarah and began to talk to her about her mother.

  Katherine heard Mick say to Celia, ‘I did write, you know.’

  ‘I wish I’d known. It would have made me feel a bit better about everything,’ she said.

  ‘In that case, perhaps we should discuss this whole thing on our own so we can both feel better? We could go for a walk later and get everything off our chests. What d’you say?’

  ‘If you think we should, that’s OK with me.’

  Katherine could have cheered and wished she could go along with them but knew that could defeat the object.

  The meal over, Celia was claimed by Kitty who asked if she would like a liqueur.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind an egg flip,’ Celia said, not showing any apprehension at all at the thought of a tête-à-tête with the woman who at their last meeting had shown her the door. Once fortified by the drink she took a plain brown envelope from her handbag and placed it on the table between them. ‘That’s yours, with interest,’ she said, a quiver in her voice.

  Kitty did not touch it but said in embarrassed tones, ‘I should never have insulted you by forcing money on you but after that letter you sent I feared the worst.’

  ‘I must have been a raving loony! I could make excuses for meself but what’s the point? Take the money. You did me a favour by forcing it on me. I bet on an outsider which pipped the favourite at the post and that was the start of a run of good luck for me. I’ve even won on the Pools twice.’

  Kitty managed to smile. ‘I’m glad. And I’m pleased you’re looking heaps better than the last time I saw you. Katie thought you looked half starved.’

  ‘I probably was. You can’t gamble and eat three square meals a day. Katherine’s made sure I get proper food since she’s been with me. She’s a carer, for all she drives me nuts at times.’ She glanced around, noting the improvements since she had worked here before the war. ‘It’s a pity you’re selling the old Arcadia. I reckon given a few years she could have made a real success of running this place.’

  Kitty looked tired all of a sudden. ‘It’s too late! I’ve explained to her. I didn’t think she’d go complaining to you.’

  ‘She hasn’t!’ exclaimed Celia indignantly. ‘She’s very fond of you. I just wish I had the money to give her, but I haven’t. What she needs is a rich husband to buy another hotel, not that Patrick who’s after her.’

  ‘Who is this Patrick?’ Kitty’s head drew closer to Celia’s. ‘He sounds Catholic. Not that I’ve got anything against them but she wasn’t brought up that way. I hope she isn’t serious about him?’

  Celia was silent a moment then murmured, ‘I think she’d soon forget him if she didn’t see him for a bit. If you said you really needed her, I’m sure she’d go to Scotland with you. Not for good, mind, because I’d like to see her now and again, but a few months would get you on your feet, wouldn’t it?’

  Kitty took a sip of Drambuie. ‘I don’t want her unhappy, but she is only young …’

  ‘Much too young to know her own mind. We’re only thinking of what’s best for our girl.’

  Kitty nodded, understanding her perfectly.

  Mick approached them. ‘Have you two finished? Nelson’s waiting for his walk.’

  Immediately Celia drained her glass and stood up. She held out a hand to Kitty. ‘I’ve enjoyed everything. Tarrah for now.’

  They shook hands and Celia went out with Mick.

  ‘We’ll go this way,’ he said, leading the way up the Mount.

  She followed, a slight smile on her face as they crossed the road and walked along Rodney Street.

  ‘Remember that Sunday after Dr Galloway was burgled and you came down the street with your hair flying behind you?’ he said abruptly.

  ‘Fancy you remembering my hair being like that,’ she marvelled, feeling as if it was in another lifetime.

  He grinned. ‘I only remember because it was the day after we’d been to see Dracula with Bela Lugosi, and I’d been told off for being late.’

  ‘I was fifteen,’ murmured Celia. ‘Far too young to be thinking of love.’

  ‘I was mad about you but you weren’t really that mad about me. You were always pushing me away.’

  ‘I was in love with you,’ she said indignantly. ‘But a girl has to keep her head. Where would we have been if I’d have started a baby then?’

  ‘I would have married you.’

  She laughed in his face. ‘D’you think they’d have let us! I’d have been sent off to some home for unmarried mothers and they’d have taken the baby away. I’m glad I kept my head!’

  ‘OK, OK! I would have married you later, though, when we both lost our heads! But you vanished.’

  She stared at him. ‘It was you that scarpered after it happened. Why didn’t you ask me then instead of running away?’

  Mick looked uncomfortable. ‘I was all mixed up and I still feel bad about that. So how about it?’

  Celia looked at him stupidly. ‘Pardon?’

  He said impatiently, ‘How about it? Me and you getting married now – making Katie legal.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Of course I’m bloody serious,’ he said irascibly. ‘I can offer you a house and I’ve a good job. Katie could live with us and we’d be a proper family. What d’you think?’

  ‘I think you must be mad! You can’t throw questions at a woman like that and expect an answer right away. I don’t even know you any more.’

  ‘I haven’t changed that much.’

  ‘That’s what I’m thinking,’ she muttered.

  He smiled. ‘I have changed in some ways, Cessy. I’m really not as selfish. I do care about Katie and want her to feel we both want her.’ His smile held all its old charm and, oh, for a moment she really was tempted! What he was suggesting had been her dream all those years she had been on her own but …

  ‘Well?’ he said.

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  He stared at her, eyes narrowed, and there was a pause before he said, ‘Right! Do you want to go back now then?’

  ‘What about Nelson?’ She looked down at the dog. ‘The poor little lad has had hardly any exercise. You should at least take h
im round the block.’

  ‘You’re right!’ And with that Mick walked away, leaving her standing outside the house where he had once kissed her so passionately on the front steps.

  For a moment Celia was tempted to run after him and say she would marry him, just to see the dismay in his face, but he had done what she supposed he thought was the decent thing by asking her, even if she really did not want to accept.

  She set off to walk to Lime Street and catch a bus but had only reached Lycée Street when a hand took her by the shoulder and forced her round. She stared up at Andy Pritchard and her knees went weak, while at the same time her heart did a somersault.

  ‘Who was that bloke you were with?’ he snarled. ‘Yer bloody husband!’

  She yelped as he squeezed her shoulder. ‘I – I haven’t got a husband.’

  ‘Liar! What was all that in the church when we were supposed to get wed, then? Practising to go on the stage, were yer?’ He thrust his ruddy face into hers.

  She coughed. ‘You’re drunk! Let me go!’

  ‘Like hell I will!’ He shook her and she cried out.

  A couple stopped and stared in their direction.

  ‘Let me go, you brute!’

  ‘Shut up!’ yelled Andy, and slapped her across the face.

  Celia saw red and hit out with her handbag.

  ‘Hey!’ shouted a man’s voice. ‘Leave that woman alone.’

  ‘Yeah! You leave her alone, yer big bully!’ said his companion.

  Another couple and a man had stopped. Andy looked at them, and thrusting Celia against a shop window, hissed, ‘You haven’t heard the last of me.’ Then he lumbered off in the direction of Renshaw Street.

  ‘You all right, luv?’ asked one of the women, peering into Celia’s face.

  ‘I’ll live,’ she said shakily, touching the cheekbone where the blow had landed.

  ‘Far to go?’

  ‘Everton. I’ll be OK on the bus, thanks!’

  ‘If you’re sure?’ said the woman, looking at her curiously.

  She nodded, thanked her again and changed her mind about the bus she would normally take and went home by a different route.