A Daughter's Choice (11 page)

She hesitated and he said, ‘Well, get a move on!'

Eileen left the kitchen and Katie got on with what she was doing, wishing she had not gone after Ben because then she would have been able to talk to Patrick herself.

When Katie came out of Ben's bedroom she found Sarah sitting on the top stair. She sighed, feeling she'd had enough of her own sex for the moment.

‘How is Ben?' asked Sarah.

‘Why should you care?' said Katie, nostrils flaring with annoyance. ‘You've got our Mick on a string. Isn't he enough?'

‘Hardly! Mick's no woman's puppet.'

Her words surprised Katie and she thought before she said, ‘No, I suppose he isn't. But neither is Ben and I think you've treated him rotten, writing to our Mick on the sly while going out with him.'

Sarah's dark eyes flashed. ‘How do you know that, you loathsome brat, and how dare you speak to me like that?'

‘I don't want to speak to you at all,' said Katie, and instead of trying to get past her, went into her own bedroom.

To her annoyance Sarah followed and sat on the bed. The muted sound of distant traffic could be heard as well as a couple talking down in the street. Sarah glanced out of the window and stiffened. ‘So this is where you do your spying! You were listening to me and Ben when we had that argument weeks ago, weren't you?'

‘You didn't bother to lower your voices. Anybody could have heard you,' said Katie, opening her magazine. ‘You were shrieking like an alley cat.'

‘You cheeky madam!' Sarah crossed one Bear Brand sheerest nylon-clad leg over the other and glared at her. ‘You could have let us know you were there.'

‘You mean, shout down while you were arguing? Wouldn't that have woken the guests and the neighbours?'

Sarah's look was venomous. ‘If you were my sister, I'd put you in a barrel and float you on the Mersey.'

Katie's voice was honeyed. ‘But you're not my sister and I hope you never will be. Mick might make it up with Celia and Ben has found someone else. So you can stop making sheep's eyes at my brothers!'

‘I do not make sheep's eyes,' said Sarah indignantly. ‘I have lovely eyes. I've been told they're my best feature.'

‘By who?'

‘Whom, you mean. Well, it wouldn't be your Ben, would it? He wouldn't say anything so poetic.'

‘Which shows how little you know him. He reads the
Psalms
and
Song of Solomon
and they're real poetry and can be lovey-dovey. You don't know him at all and I think he's well rid of you.'

‘You
would
think that! You don't want someone else getting the attention,' said Sarah in a silky voice. ‘Well, I do know Ben. I've known him a lot longer than you have, and if I'm treating him in a certain way it's because I have my reasons. Ben and I go way back.'

‘Yeah! You
are
a bit ancient.'

Sarah stood up with a wrathful expression on her face but before she could speak the door opened and Ben stood there.

‘Why don't you try disturbing every guest in the hotel?' he said sarcastically. ‘Now go downstairs, the pair of you!'

‘You can't speak to me like that!' said Sarah. ‘I'm not a kid like her.'

‘Well, stop behaving like one. I want to get changed in peace before I go out.'

‘But you've just got in! Where are you going?' demanded Sarah.

‘None of your business,' he said, and closed the door.

‘Swine!' Sarah ground her teeth. ‘I could kill him!' She flounced out of the room and Katie followed her at a more leisurely pace, pleased with the last ten minutes' work.

As Ben strolled down the Mount he felt a bit ridiculous, all dressed up with nowhere to go, but at least he had showed Sarah that he was not wilting away for love of her. Good ol' Katie for sticking up for him. She was as good as any real sister, but what had Sarah been doing upstairs? It was unlikely Katie had asked her up.

A sports car came to a screeching halt much too close to the kerb alongside him. ‘I saw you leave. Can I give you a lift?' gasped Sarah.

Ben was flabbergasted but he hardened his heart and won his inner struggle. ‘No, thanks.'

‘Why not?' she demanded crossly. ‘You never used to refuse a lift.'

‘Things have changed. You're no longer my girl, and you're on the wrong side of the road.'

Her eyes darted from his face to the other side of the road and back again. ‘Is that woman Katie mentioned the reason you won't accept a lift from me?'

Ben's expression froze and he thought frantically. ‘Who else?' he said at last. ‘Now will you go away before you get arrested for kerb crawling and dangerous driving?'

Sarah bit her lip, glanced behind her and shot across the road, narrowly avoiding a motor cyclist. Ben's heart leapt into his throat. ‘You bloody idiot!' he shouted.

‘Can't we talk, Ben?' she called, continuing at a snail's pace on the other side of the road. ‘I don't really want to be out of friends with you.'

‘You have a funny way of showing it then, going out with my brother and insulting my sister. 'Bye, Sarah.' He lengthened his stride and did not look back even when she roared past him, leaving damp scraps of paper swirling in her wake.

He did not feel satisfied for long, though. It started to pour with rain and he got soaked as he walked back home, wondering what would be the outcome of Celia's visit and whether there was any way he could use it to win Sarah back for good.

Katie picked up the post and glanced at the envelopes. There was one addressed to her, a plain white one with a Lancashire postmark. She stuffed it into her apron pocket to read later, thinking it was from a guest she had made a friend of, and placed the others on the occasional table in the lobby except the one for Ma and Pops which was in Jack's handwriting. Katie had sent him a birthday card but he had not reciprocated. As usual Ma had included his name on theirs.

Katie went into the kitchen and removed toast from the toaster, placing more bread in it.

‘Nothing for me?' said Eileen, sliding bacon on to a plate.

‘There's one from your mother. I left it in the lobby. Perhaps she's writing to say it's time you upped sticks?'

‘You think I'll be going home before I'm good and ready?' Eileen gave her a scornful look. ‘I happen to like it here so you might as well get used to the idea. I could be here to stay.'

‘Not when I'm running the place,' said Katie firmly. ‘I don't get you. Don't you want to take over your parents' hotel in Ireland?'

‘No, there's more life here. So I'm staying, whether you like it or not,' Eileen said confidently, and waltzed out, carrying a tray, as Kitty entered.

‘Something's burning.'

Katie moved swiftly. ‘This toaster's on its last legs,' she said.

‘It'll last a bit longer. All you've got to do is remember to keep your eye on it,' said Kitty. ‘What's that you've got in your hand?'

‘It's for you from Jack. Probably wants to know when you're going up there for a holiday.'

Kitty smiled. ‘Probably. His heart's definitely in the Highlands, just like Pops, because he doesn't come home often.'

‘Oh, Ma! You say that every year at this time. But Pops is half-English. It's only because he's got the house up there that he keeps returning.'

‘That's all you know about it,' said Kitty. ‘He was brought up there from when he was seven and lived there until he joined the Medical Corps and went to war. He loves walking the hills, just like Jack.'

‘OK, OK! I'm not looking to hear all about the old days.'

Katie picked up a toast rack and carried it into the dining room. She exchanged a few words about the weather with a singer who was appearing at the Empire but did not linger long because there was other work to do, and besides she wanted to see what Joan had to say.

Katie slit the envelope and saw two pages of beautifully written copperplate handwriting. She looked at the signature and read ‘Celia Mcdonald'. Surprised, she turned to the first page and began to read. By the time she reached the end of the letter she had gone from hot to cold to hot again, and had to grip the table to steady herself. There must be some mistake. The woman was demented. It couldn't possibly be true. She was trying to get back at them because Kitty had chased her the other day – which wasn't surprising if this letter was the kind of rubbish the woman usually spouted. She ripped the letter up and placed the scraps in her pocket, returning to the kitchen to get on with her work.

But the contents of Celia's letter were not so easy to dismiss and as Katie was about to empty the torn scraps of paper into the wastepaper bin, the words ‘
Kitty Mcleod snatched you away from me. I'd no sooner given birth than she wanted you. I was weak and let her take you
' burnt into her brain. Katie shivered, feeling cold and drained of all energy. It couldn't be true! Ma would never steal or lie to her. The woman was just trying to poison her mind to get revenge on Ma for making her leave the hotel. She repeated that to herself and felt a little better.

Next Katie had the job of seeing to the post and got on with answering requests for accommodation, but even as she hammered out words on the old Underwood typewriter more of the letter forced itself into her consciousness. ‘
You're my baby. You're beautiful and I'm so sorry I didn't stand up to her but she was so strong and I'd had TB and my nerves were weak
.' Katie remembered Rita saying to Ben that Celia's nerves were weak. It made her feel a little better. There was definitely something wrong with the woman.

She finished her typing and then went out to post the letters. More words hit her as she was coming up the Mount and this time she felt so angry she ran the rest of the way to the Arcadia.
It's impossible! That sad, drab woman couldn't possibly be my mother. I don't look the least bit like her!
She entered the hotel in a rush and collided with Kitty.

‘Careful,' she said, steadying her with a smile. ‘What's the rush?'

For a breathcatching moment Katie was on the verge of telling her about Celia's letter. Ma would reassure her and they would laugh about it. No, not laugh because it wasn't the least bit funny. But just at that moment one of the guests came out of the Smoking Room and said something to Kitty about the summer sales and the two women began to talk bargains. Katie went into the kitchen and found Eileen making soda bread.

The girl glanced up and said, ‘You're all rosy. Did something exciting come in the post for you?'

The flush died on Katie's cheeks, leaving her deathly pale. ‘Have you been looking in the wastepaper bin?'

Eileen's eyebrows drew together. ‘Is that where you'd put a letter from that Patrick? Sensible girl! You do surprise me.'

‘P-Patrick!' she stammered. Her fear ebbed and she laughed. ‘No, I haven't had a letter from him. More's the pity. But if he calls again, I'll make sure I get to speak to him and I'll tell Ma he's no ted. Now, have you started the soup?'

‘No,' said Eileen, looking grumpy. ‘I was waiting for you to come in with fresh carrots and leeks, but you've a head like a sieve because where are they?'

‘Like you said, I've a head like a sieve,' she said, trying to sound cheerful, and went straight out again.

For the rest of the day Katie was good for nothing. As much as she tried to forget Celia's letter, words kept popping into her head along with snippets of things people had said, such as her having been born in the autumn of her parents' lives and Celia's having been at the Arcadia during the May blitz. Could Ben know something about this? He had clammed up the other day and said she'd have to find things out from Celia. She felt cold all over again but convinced herself that he would never have kept such a secret from her. Even so she often found herself stopping and staring into space as she went about her work.

‘What's got into you today?' said Kitty more than once.

‘She imagines herself in love on one sighting,' said Eileen, rolling her eyes.

Katie forced a smile and did not deny Eileen's words but instead looked at Kitty and thought, You are old enough to be my grandmother. Her blood ran cold again. She did not want to think like that but could not help it. She hated the thought that Kitty wasn't her mother and Pops her father, that her brothers weren't even her half-brothers. Celia meant nothing to her and this family meant so much.

Katie could not sleep that night but lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. I know hardly anything about the woman so how can she be my mother? ‘
I would like to meet you again but away from the hotel
,' Celia had written. Strange how she could remember so much of that letter. ‘
In Liverpool, if you like? Cooper's Cafe in Church Street next Tuesday at twelve. Please come
.' The last two words repeated themselves. ‘
Please come – please come – please come
!' She turned on to her stomach and pulled the pillow over her head, pressing her cheek against the cool white sheet.
Sad, drab – mad perhaps
? She needed to know if Celia was the latter of those three things and could only do that by keeping that appointment. Having made that decision, Katie determined to pull herself together and try to act normally until then.

On Monday, in order to avoid questions, Katie told Kitty she had an appointment with the dentist on the Tuesday. ‘Do you want me to come with you, love?' said Kitty. ‘I know how horrible it is going there.'

‘No!' Katie could not conceal her alarm. ‘I'm a big girl now, Ma.' She marvelled not for the first time at her own acting ability. She was as miserable as sin but felt sure no one could guess just how low she felt.

At a quarter to twelve on the appointed day, Katie left the Arcadia carrying her umbrella and wishing God could at least have made the sun shine. The rain seemed an omen and her mind was full of speculation on how her life might change if Celia proved to be telling the truth. As she passed Woolworth's and C & A Modes, with its display of summer fashions in floral cotton satin and rayon duster coats, her heart was thumping. Already she could smell the ground coffee for which Cooper's was famous and see a woman waiting in front of the store in a bright red mackintosh. Not so drab after all.