Read A Time of Peace Online

Authors: Beryl Matthews

A Time of Peace (37 page)

It was a happy memory, making them all laugh out loud as they pictured him standing there and shaking his head.

Kate sighed inwardly. Living without him was so damned hard, but perhaps they were beginning to turn the corner at last.

36

Over the next three weeks Kate took little notice of the passing of time. She plunged into each day, taking portraits, doing weddings, the accounts, ordering stock, serving customers, in fact anything to keep herself fully occupied, longing for the pain of loss to ease. The horror of the kidnapping faded to a mere shadow beside this new disaster.

Jacques had stayed for almost a week while he'd done the rounds to see every member of the family. His cheerful presence had been a balm to them all.

The business was flourishing and Kate had been kept busy, throwing herself into each day. Terry and Beth were working well together and her friend was ecstatic about the job. Jon, with his vast knowledge of world affairs, was now a political correspondent, and she'd been out on a couple of assignments with him when he'd needed a photographer. He wouldn't take anyone else. She considered that a fine compliment, and she enjoyed watching him refuse to let the politicians evade his probing questions.

And as each day passed, she watched anxiously as her mother began to fill her days with work. It had frightened Kate when she'd seen her strong-minded mother fall apart after the funeral, albeit briefly. It was a blessing that her Aunt Annie had been there at the time, for of all people she understood her sister and knew how to help.

James, like Kate, was numb, but there was an echo of Bill about him – strong, dependable and with a calm outlook on life. And, in the background, supporting with love and understanding, were Annie and Reid – her pretend parents.

Kate's mouth turned up in a smile as she thought about the time just after the war, when she'd offered to be their pretend daughter until they had one of their own. They'd never had a girl, so they'd always called her their daughter, and she was turning to Reid more and more as the days passed. She spoke to him two or three times a week on the phone and he listened to her ramblings about work with patient good humour, just as her father had always done. No one could ever replace her father, of course, but she'd always considered Reid as her second father, so she naturally went to him in difficult times.

She pulled into the parking space at the back of the shop and walked round to the front to have a look at the display in the window. It was excellent as usual, and she counted her blessings at having found Pete and Susan. It looked as if there was a real romance blossoming between them and she was happy about that.

Opening the shop door, she walked in, feeling better than she'd done for some time. Her mother told her not to forget to be grateful for the good they had, and she was right, because that kind of thinking gave a more positive outlook on life.

‘Hi!' she said to Susan, as she walked through to the back room. ‘Sorry I'm late, Pete,' she called, seeing the red light on and knowing that he was in the darkroom. ‘I popped in to see Terry and Beth first.'

‘The Putney shop's doing well, isn't it?' The heavy curtain across the developing-room door muffled Pete's voice.

‘It certainly is. Terry's enjoying the work as well.'

Pete's head came through the curtain. ‘I've nearly finished here. Put the kettle on, I'm gasping.'

She filled the kettle and noticed lots of parcels and shopping bags on the table. She moved them out of the way and made room for the cups. ‘Who's been going mad in the shops?'

‘Oh, they're mine.' Susan came in and tucked them under the table out of the way.

‘What on earth have you been buying?' Kate asked.

‘Christmas presents.' Susan took over the making of the tea. ‘It's only two weeks away now.'

‘Two weeks?' Kate's eyes were wide in astonishment. Good heavens, she hadn't given it a thought. A long list of things she needed to buy began to form in her mind, and with such a short time it was going to be a rush. There were presents for all the family, then for the children in both homes. Had her mother done anything about them?

Pete came out of the darkroom and washed his hands in the sink.

‘I've forgotten Christmas,' she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

With the holiday being so close, they were very busy in the shop and Kate didn't get a break until two o'clock. After pinching one of Pete's cheese sandwiches, she dashed up the road to the high street and began to buy presents. She was gazing in one shop when she saw a
beautiful bronze statue of a golfer in full swing. Oh, she must buy that. Her father enjoyed his golf and he would love it.

Her hand was on the door when the realization hit her that he wasn't going to be there this Christmas – or ever again. She reeled back as if someone had punched her in the stomach. ‘Oh, dear God,' she gasped, struggling to stand on shaking legs.

Kate didn't know how she got back to the shop. It took every ounce of strength she could muster, but somehow she did make it and lurched through the door, making for the sanctuary of the darkroom. Once inside, she gripped the edge of the bench and cried, great sobs shaking her body.

‘Kate, what's the matter? Are you ill?'

Strong arms were around her, holding her up, and she clung on to Jon, thankful he was there.

‘Pete's not here, so Susan came up to the flat for me.' He held her close, cradling her head on his shoulder. ‘Come up to the flat and let's get you a cup of tea.'

The pain was so intense that she was unable to speak, as tears filled her eyes and clogged her throat.

Jon held her firmly and urged her forward. ‘Just put one foot in front of the other, Kate. I won't let you fall.'

Once in the sitting room he made her sit on the sofa, gently pushing a strand of black hair away from her eyes.

‘You rest there while I make the tea. Or would you like something stronger?'

‘Tea will do fine.' Kate closed her eyes and listened to Jon moving around in the kitchen. She'd stopped shaking, but her breathing was erratic and it seemed difficult to get enough air into her lungs.

He soon returned with a steaming cup of sweet tea. She took it and began to gulp it down, watching him all the time in bewilderment. What the hell had happened?

He stooped down in front of her, and when she'd drained the cup he took it and placed it on the floor. ‘Better?'

She nodded.

‘Are you ill?' He held her cold hands in his, gently massaging them.

‘I saw a statue of a golfer and I was going to buy it for Dad …' She stopped, unable to go on.

‘And you finally realized he'd died.'

‘Yes.' She dipped her head and looked down at their clasped hands. ‘I don't understand. Why now?'

‘It's delayed reaction.' He sat next to her and gathered her into his arms. ‘You've been so worried about your mother that you haven't fully accepted his passing until now. I suspect you've kept a rein on your own grief in an effort to support Rose. Seeing her so upset shocked you, didn't it?'

‘Yes, it did, and you're right, I've tried to keep reasonably cheerful for her sake.'

‘Well, you don't have to worry about her any more.' Jon gently kissed her eyes and smiled. ‘I saw her yesterday at Standish House, and I believe she's beginning to enjoy being back in the fray again. They're being reorganized, whether they like it or not.'

Kate's expression brightened. ‘The posh solicitors she's working for are being urged to take on a few
worthy
cases as well.'

Jon held her away from him so he could look into her face. ‘There's nothing to worry about, then, is there?'

She relaxed in his arms, feeling as if a burden had been lifted from her. She yawned, suddenly very tired.

‘Sleep for a while.' He stood up. ‘You'll feel better when you wake up.'

‘Oh, I can't do that, we're so busy …'

He stopped her from getting to her feet. ‘I've got the rest of the day off, so I'll go and give them a hand. You stay here.'

Kate tucked her feet up and laid her head back. He was right, she felt absolutely drained. As she heard the door close behind him, the tears began to flow unchecked down her face again, and for the first time she let her pain surface.

When there were no more tears left, she settled down. Jon was such a good man. She drifted off to sleep, grateful that he'd taken care of her and had the sense to leave her on her own …

It was just over an hour later when Kate woke up, feeling more herself. Her reaction in the high street had been unbelievable. What a blessing Susan had gone upstairs for Jon, because he'd handled the situation with calm understanding. She really must thank him properly, and Susan, for she must have been very worried to see her in such a state.

Now she must put the whole dreadful year behind her. It was impossible to change what had happened, but she must see that it didn't cloud her future. Jacques had had the most awful start to life but he'd grown into a well-adjusted happy person. Her life, until this year, had been one of love, happiness and security. And it would be again.

A line from the twenty-third Psalm came to her … ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.' The important words here were ‘walk through'. Keep walking, she told herself firmly, don't linger, move on.

She stood up, her head at a determined angle. That is what her father would have wanted and expected of her. She wasn't about to let him down, or any of her family and friends.

With her mind clear, she headed down the stairs with a smile of relief on her face. The shop was crowded, and she looked around as if seeing it for the first time. Over the last few months they had expanded, selling cameras and everything for the enthusiastic photographer. Jon was busy showing a man one of the best cameras, talking and laughing with the customer. She fought down a smile; he didn't know one end of a camera from the other, but seeing him now you'd never have guessed it. When the man nodded and said he'd take it, Jon glanced across at her and gave a sly wink, making her chuckle. He was enjoying himself. Pete and Susan were both busy with customers. In came two more people, quickly followed by Terry.

For the next hour they didn't have time to draw breath, and when the last customer left, they all grinned at each other.

‘Put the kettle on, Susan,' Pete said, rubbing his hands together with pleasure. ‘Let's have a cuppa while there's a lull.'

Jon came over to Kate and squeezed her hand, then spoke quietly. ‘You look better now. I didn't tell Pete you'd had a bad turn and neither did Susan. I just
said you needed another hour to finish your shopping.'

‘Thank you.' She reached up and kissed his cheek. He was so thoughtful not to worry Pete. ‘Did anyone tell you that you're a very kind man?'

His extraordinary green eyes glittered with amusement. ‘I don't think so.'

‘What are you looking for, Terry?' Pete came from the back room carrying a tray of tea and biscuits.

‘I've got a customer asking for the latest Leica. Have you got one in stock?'

‘Well, I sold one yesterday. Have we got any more, Kate?'

She got down and opened a small cupboard under the counter, rummaging through the boxes, then grunted in satisfaction and emerged triumphant with it in her hand.

‘Great!' Terry took it from her. ‘May I have it? My customer's coming back in the morning. He's desperate to have it before Christmas.'

‘Just sign the stock book to say you've taken it so we can order again.' She leant against the counter and sipped her tea.

‘Hey, Kate, can we employ Jon? He can sell anything. His customers never leave here without buying something!' Pete chortled.

They were all laughing when the shop door opened and another two customers came in. Terry grabbed the camera, and with a wave left to go back to his own shop in Putney.

Jon stayed for the rest of the afternoon, and then bought them all a meal in the café up the road.

When they were all tucking into their steak and kidney
pie, Pete said to Jon, ‘Are you enjoying your new job as political correspondent?'

A deep chuckle came from Jon. ‘I am, much to my surprise. It's a real challenge interviewing politicians, for it's damned hard to get a straight answer out of them. I think they must go to a special school that teaches them how to evade answering questions.'

As soon as he'd finished his meal, Jon was on his feet. ‘I must dash. I've got an appointment.'

‘Some poor politician to grill?' Pete joked.

‘Of course.' Jon squeezed Kate's arm and looked deep into her eyes, obviously searching to see if she was all right now. When she smiled, he nodded and left the café.

Susan left as well, leaving Kate and Pete to enjoy a quiet few moments.

‘I've just heard that the shop next door is closing after Christmas.' Pete couldn't hide his excitement. ‘We need more room, and the owners would be happy for us to take over the premises.'

‘I agree that we are cramped now.' She studied him carefully. He had an innate ability for business that far exceeded his years, and during this year he'd had to take on a lot of extra responsibility, as she'd struggled with one disaster after another. He'd grown up quickly and was obviously thriving on the challenge. ‘If you think it's a good idea, then we'll take it over. See if we can have permission to knock a door through to connect the two shops.'

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