Living a Lie Page 10

  Patricia’s smile fell away.

  “I don’t think so,” she answered sweetly.

  “I believe that young woman is a very bad influence on you.”

  “Then I won’t be bringing anyone here.”

  “Oh dear! I do hope you aren’t going to be difficult.”

  Kitty hadn’t wanted to appear difficult, though she had no intention of giving up on Georgie. Maybe it was Mr. Connor she should be talking to.

  “I don’t want to seem difficult, Mrs. Connor,” she apologised.

  “I’m sorry if I gave that impression.” All the same, one way or another she meant to keep up her relationship with Georgie, and to hell with the consequences!

  The little woman drew in a long slow breath and let it out in a weary sigh.

  “Please! Don’t call me Mrs. Connor,” she pleaded.

  “From now on, I’ll be your mother. Can’t you call me that? Can’t you bring yourself to call me Mother? It would give me so much pleasure.”

  Kitty thought she was asking too much and told her so.

  “I will only ever have one mother, and she’s gone,” she said in a flat voice.

  “But, if you like, I could call you Patricia?”

  “How disappointing.” She gave her best ‘little girl’ smile.

  “You will be able to call me Mother later on though, won’t you?”

  “I can’t promise.”

  Patricia pretended not to hear. Striding to the wardrobes, she threw open the doors.

  “We’re going to try and fill these today,” she said.

  “You’re so very pretty, and I want you to look lovely and have nice things. I want people to come here and say, ‘Oh, Patricia, isn’t she beautiful!’” She smiled secretly. “Every woman likes to have an attractive daughter. It kind of makes her feel attractive too, don’t you think?”

  Kitty couldn’t think what to think, except that she was already beginning to regret coming here to live. But she kept that to herself.

  Half an hour later, Raymond Connor returned to his estate agent’s office, while his wife drove her own little car into Bedford.

  “We’ll do some shopping, then have lunch in Beale’s.” Patricia gabbled all the way into Bedford.

  “Then we’ll explore Debenham’s and after that seek out the very best shoe shops.” She chattered so much she went through two sets of red lights and almost ran into an old woman standing on the corner of the market square.

  “People will get in the way,” she complained, patting her short fair hair in the mirror.

  “It really is irritating.”

  Bedford town was teeming with people. It took half an hour and three heated arguments to park the car in a side street. It didn’t seem to matter to Patricia that there was a huge sign saying RESIDENTS’ PARKING ONLY or that she ran over a child’s football and sent him indoors sobbing his heart out. Nor did it ruffle her feathers when the child’s irate mother threatened to call the police.

  “Don’t be so bloody stupid!” Patricia retorted.

  With that she marched down the street, doing battle with half the residents and with her reluctant protegee in hot pursuit. Kitty remained shamed and red-faced until they arrived at the first shop, after which she was ushered in and out of changing rooms so fast she was too dizzy to think straight.

  Dissatisfied with everything Kitty tried on, Patricia led the way down Midland Road and on to the High Street.

  “We’ll do this in an organised manner,” she announced.

  “Start at the top of the High Street and work back. Beale’s is situated halfway so we’ll be ready for lunch by the time we get there.”

  When Kitty explained she had really liked a certain cheesecloth dress, Patricia was horrified.

  “Makes you look like a hippy!” she said. She couldn’t know how, in that moment, Kitty would have given anything to join a commune and tramp the roads.

  Kitty had never been so exhausted. Whisked in and out of every shop in every street, her feet ached and her head was pounding. By the time they got back to Beale’s, the two of them were loaded down with shopping bags, every loathsome item chosen by Patricia.

  “I don’t need all this,” Kitty protested.

  “Besides, it’s costing you a small fortune.”

  “Not me, dear,” Patricia argued.

  “It’s costing Raymond a small fortune.” Falling into a nearby chair, she dumped the shopping bags on the floor and her handbag on the table. Scanning the counter with hungry eyes, she told Kitty, “I’ll have a pot of tea…not too strong…and a light salad, with perhaps a piece of that delightful-looking bacon flan.” She groaned and stretched out her legs beneath the table.

  “It’s good to sit down,” she said. When Kitty didn’t move quickly enough, she urged, “Hurry up, dear. Put your bags down. Go and get what I’ve ordered, and have whatever you want for yourself. Quickly now! There’ll be a queue a mile long any minute.”

  She tutted the whole time Kitty was arranging the bags, and moaned when two elderly women got to the counter first.

  “Don’t forget,” she called out impatiently, “tea, not too strong.” When other diners glanced up, she gave them one of her frosty looks.

  Loaded down with a heavy tray, Kitty put Patricia’s food before her then settled down to enjoy her doughnut and coffee. With every sip and every bite she was treated to a barrage of advice about how too much coffee was bad for your health, and how doughnuts were full of harmful sugar, and how Patricia would have to teach her healthy eating. She talked of shops they had visited and remarked on the clothes they had bought, and Kitty sipped her coffee and ate her doughnut, and shut her ears to the shrill monologue that had other diners leaving in droves.

  “I know I talk too much,” Patricia apologised, “but you can’t know how excited I am at having you with me. And when I get excited, my tongue has a habit of running away with me.”

  “No need to apologise for that.” Kitty felt a pang of conscience, though she couldn’t help thinking it might be a blessed relief if Patricia’s tongue really would run away with her.

  It was almost six o’clock by the time the car nosed its way up the drive.

  “Home at last!” Patricia said, and Kitty sighed with relief.

  As the shopping was unloaded, Patricia checked every bag. While she went ahead, Kitty was left to carry most of the enormous number of bags and bits.

  “Hurry up, dear!” Patricia called, leaving her to stagger beneath the burden.

  “There’ll be two hungry men home soon.”

  She was right about one thing. At precisely six-thirty, Raymond came through the door with a smile on his face, and it was still there after Patricia explained, “You’ll have to wait for your meal. We didn’t get back until late, so it will be at least another hour before the dinner’s on the table.” Exasperated, she glanced at the clock.

  “I don’t know where the time’s gone. I hate it when I’m late with dinner and I’ve planned a special one tonight, just for Kitty.” She gave her a half-smile. “That’s why I wanted the plumpest, freshest chicken the butcher could find.”

  She chuckled. “You remember how annoyed he got when I kept sending him backwards and forwards until he found one I could accept?”

  Kitty would remember the incident for a long time to come. By the time Patricia was finished, the poor man was breathless, red in the face, and so agitated he gave her an extra ten-pound note in her change.

  When Kitty discreetly pointed it out to Patricia, she retorted, “That will compensate me for the time he wasted!” There were a few more minutes wasted when Patricia dropped the chicken on the pavement while trying to stuff her ill-gotten gains into her purse.

  “Damn and bugger it!” she’d cried, blushing from her neck to her hairline when a passing clergyman gave her a scathing look.

  Sensing one of his wife’s awkward moods in the offing, Raymond suggested hopefully, “I’m sure Kitty wouldn’t mind if we postponed the special di
nner until tomorrow night?”

  Kitty thought that was a wonderful idea and said so. The thought of sitting at the same table as Adam Connor brought her out in goosebumps.

  “Nonsense!” Patricia used her favourite word and the matter was settled.

  “We shall have our special dinner, and we shall sit at the table as a family. The dinner will be ready in an hour.” Anticipating her husband’s protest, she told him, “And if eating late gives you indigestion, you’ll just have to suffer.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that,” he protested. “Though you do have a point. You know how eating late affects me.”

  “If you weren’t going to say that, what were you going to say?” Before he could answer, she turned to Kitty.

  “Honestly! I’ve yet to meet the man who can suffer with dignity.”

  Kitty bit her lip. Watching these two was like watching a tennis match…left, right…his turn, her turn.

  Now it was his turn, and he was looking straight at Kitty.

  “I have something for you. It’s in the car. I think you should go and fetch it.” He looked like a cat with the cream.

  When he winked at his wife, she gave a little cry.

  “So that’s why you were late!” Nudging Kitty she urged, “Go on, dear. It’s your birthday present. We couldn’t give it to you earlier. You’ll see why. Go on, dear. GO ON!”

  Intrigued, Kitty went outside. The car was on the drive. She glanced behind her and there stood Patricia and her husband.

  “Go on!” called Patricia.

  “Open the door, dear.”

  Kitty didn’t care much for all this intrigue. Peering inside the car, she could see nothing that looked remotely like a birthday present.

  With the exception of a big cardboard box on the back seat, there was nothing in the car at all. She opened the door and looked inside.

  There was nothing on the floor, and nothing inside the glove compartment. Then, as she turned away, she heard it. The smallest whimper, coming from the box. Gingerly she opened it up and there was the loveliest, tiniest bundle of fluff. A puppy! All her young life she had wanted a puppy. Her mother had promised her one: “When you’re old enough to look after it.” But the day never arrived. Until now.

  With gentle hands she hugged the puppy to her; it was a cocker spaniel, black and white mottled, and with ears that swept the floor.

  “Oh, you’re beautiful!” she murmured, nuzzling her face into the silky softness of its coat. When after a moment she came to the doorstep where the Connors were waiting, Kitty kissed them both.

  “It’s the best birthday present I’ve ever had,” she said.

  “How did you know I longed for a puppy of my own?”

  Raymond knew exactly how she felt, because he had never had a daughter of his own before and now he had.

  “Miss Davis told us,” he explained.

  “She told us how you confided it to her.”

  Patricia gave him a sour look.

  “Oh, but she didn’t really betray your confidence,” she said.

  “We asked her what you would like for your birthday, and mentioned that we were thinking of getting you a puppy, and she told us it would be wonderful because that was what you had always wanted.” Ruffling the puppy’s coat, she went on, “All the bitches were already sold, so this is a he. He was too young to be collected in time for your birthday, but I’m sure he was worth waiting for, wasn’t he?”

  Kitty thanked them again.

  “I won’t have any trouble choosing him a name,” she said.

  “I’m going to call him Jasper.” Her voice fell to a whisper as she told the puppy, “Harry’s dog was called Jasper, and he lived to a ripe old age.”

  Both Patricia and her husband thought Jasper was a good name.

  “I’m sure Adam will like it too,” Patricia said. Raymond reminded her that it wouldn’t matter whether Adam liked the name or not: “Because the puppy belongs to Kitty, and she can call him whatever she likes.”

  “You two make friends with the creature,” Patricia said haughtily, “I have dinner to get ready.” When Kitty offered to help, she told her, “If I was in need of help, dear, I would have asked.”

  It was almost eight o’clock when Adam arrived home. Frantic with worry, Patricia ran to him as he came through the door.

  “Wherever have you been?” she pleaded.

  “I’ve been out of my mind!”

  Patricia’s son was her pride and joy. Tall and broad shouldered, with thick blond hair and staring blue eyes, he had a forbidding manner about him.

  “Stop fussing, Mother,” he told her. His voice was thick and low, and oddly disturbing.

  “You’ve obviously forgotten, I told you I planned to play squash after classes.”

  “No, you didn’t! You said nothing to me about playing squash, or being late.” Plucking at his jacket, she demanded, “Adam! Are you listening to me?”

  He shook her off and glanced round the room. When he saw Kitty sitting on the rug, he was momentarily taken aback; he smiled, ready to exchange words with her, until he saw she was playing with the puppy.

  His face stiffened with anger.

  “What’s that thing doing here?” he asked his mother.

  Kitty answered.

  “This is Jasper,” she said boldly.

  “He’s my birthday present…from your parents.”

  Adam looked at her for a long awkward moment, then took a deep breath that made his chest swell. When he let it out it was in a rush as he demanded of his mother, “How come you would never let me have a dog?”

  “Get washed, Adam. We’re having a special dinner tonight…to welcome Kitty into the family.”

  He addressed himself to Kitty.

  “You must be feeling pleased with yourself? A puppy and a special dinner. My! My! We are honoured, aren’t we?”

  Kitty said nothing, but knew instinctively he didn’t like her. When he continued to look at her with hostile eyes, she stared him out. Her boldness only seemed to antagonise him further, though he tried not to show it.

  Dropping his leather bag on the floor, he strode across the room and stood before her.

  “I really ought to be jealous of you,” he murmured.

  “I mean…there was a time when I had my mother’s love all to myself.” His smile widened unpleasantly.

  Patricia almost ran across the room.

  “Isn’t it lovely to have her here with us?” she pleaded.

  “We’ve been shopping…getting Kitty the things she needs to make a good impression.”

  “Oh?” Keeping his eyes on Kitty, he said, “She’s had you traipsing all over town, has she? Poor you.” He laughed softly.

  “But then, it’s only right that you should be punished, for stealing my limelight.”

  Kitty reasoned that if she and this spoilt young man were to live under the same roof they had better get off on the right foot.

  “I hoped we might be friends,” she told him sincerely.

  His eyes became so wide she was afraid they might fall out.

  “Shame on you, Kitty,” he chided, wagging a finger within an inch of her face.

  “Here am I, longing to be friends, and you can’t even see it.” His expression hardened.

  “Mother will tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to your coming to stay.” Turning to Patricia he demanded, “Isn’t that right, Mother? Haven’t I been looking forward to having Kitty here?”

  Patricia laughed, but her voice was shaky as she made an effort to reassure Kitty, “I’m counting on you two becoming friends.”

  Kitty couldn’t help but notice how Patricia’s mood had darkened since the arrival of her son. In fact, he seemed to have cast a shadow over the whole house.

  Picking up his bag, the young man brushed past the two women.

  “I suppose Father is hiding somewhere?”

  “Don’t be silly. Your father is working in his study.” Obviously embarrassed in front of Kitty,
she declared impatiently, “Dinner will be on the table in ten minutes. You’ll see him then.”

  “I expect it’s spoiled. You know how I hate warmed-up meals.”

  “It won’t be spoiled.”

  “It doesn’t matter because I don’t want it anyway. I’ve already eaten.”

  “What are you saying?” Patricia was horrified.

  “Are you telling me you won’t be down for dinner?”

  “That’s precisely what I’m telling you. Now please, Mother. Go away.”

  Turning to Kitty, he said, “I like your name…Kitty. Is it short for something?”

  “I was christened Katherine.” She disliked him immensely, and as far as was possible meant to keep out of his way.

  “Hmh.” He considered for a moment.

  “Then, I think we should try to be friends…for Mother’s sake at least. What do you think. Kitty?” He seemed to be making a mockery of her name.

  “That’s really up to you,” she replied coldly. She had seen the way he bullied his mother, and she noticed the fear in Patricia’s eyes.

  “Yes.

  I’d say that was up to you, Adam,” she repeated.

  “If we’re to be friends, you might just have to mind your manners.”

  His blue eyes froze.

  “Enjoy your dinner,” he said. As he strode away, the puppy chased after him. There was a scuffle, then a shrill yelp as Jasper went skidding across the floor.

  “Oh dear!” Adam’s smile was cunning.

  “It might be best if you kept the thing away from me. I’m known for my clumsiness.”

  Two days later the puppy was found lying lifeless in the garden. The vet said it had been poisoned. Kitty was heartbroken. As for Adam, he could hardly conceal his delight.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “He sounds a real swine.”

  Accepting a glass of lemonade from Georgie, Kitty curled her long legs beneath her and made herself comfortable on the settee. All the furniture in Georgie’s flat had seen better days. Situated on the ground floor of a big house on Goldington Road, it was surprisingly large, with one bedroom, a spacious bathroom, and an old fashioned kitchen with a walk-in pantry.

  “You’ve got this place looking really nice,” Kitty told her friend.