Living a Lie Page 16

“I can’t blame him for taking the kids.”

  She lowered her gaze.

  “Sometimes, when I’ve been drinking, I’m not responsible for my own actions.”

  “Can’t you get help?”

  “It’s not as easy as that. It isn’t just the drinking. That’s only half the problem. It all started when your uncle lost his first job remember I told you that the last time I saw you?”

  Kitty nodded. God! The times she had thought about that. But it didn’t matter now. The hurt had passed.

  Mildred continued, “He soon got another job…better paid, with a company car and all the perks. We should have been happy then, but things were never the same between us.” She was wringing her hands, sweating profusely

  “There was another woman…I started drinking. We fought about this and that and the kids sided with him. Oh, I don’t blame them. I was hell to live with.”

  “Will he come back?”

  “I hoped he would, but I know now I was just fooling myself.” She made a bitter sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Now, he wants to bleed me dry…see me in the gutter!”

  Clambering out of her seat, she went to the bureau; it was wet and sticky with gin. Impatiently wiping away the spilled liquid, she winced when a fragment of glass sliced into the palm of her hand. Ignoring the trickle of blood she opened the bureau and took out a long white envelope.

  “He’s washed his hands of me,” she muttered. Tossing the envelope at Kitty she told her, “There’s your answer. See for yourself.”

  The letter was from a solicitor, a formal notice that Mildred’s husband was filing for divorce.

  Kitty read it with a solemn face. Afterwards she laid the letter on the coffee table.

  “He might change his mind?” she suggested hopefully, though in truth she realised the hopelessness of Mildred’s situation.

  “He won’t.” She had no illusions.

  “He’s set up home with that slut!”

  “Is she a slut?”

  “Course she’s a bloody slut! She stole another woman’s husband, didn’t she?”

  “Sounds to me like he didn’t need much persuasion.”

  “That’s spiteful.”

  “What about the children?”

  Mildred stared at Kitty, and there was a world of regret in her eyes.

  “He wants custody of them…and to ‘negotiate our joint assets’. As for the children, they’ve turned their backs on me. Edward has a job and a flat of his own. He doesn’t visit…says I’m an embarrassment. The other two have always been their daddy’s little darlings.”

  She gave a hard laugh.

  “Poetic justice you might say. I turned my back on you, and my kids turned their backs on me. I expect you’re thinking I’ve got what I deserve?”

  “I wouldn’t wish that on you.”

  Mildred was shocked into silence. She had seen something in Kitty that made her mortally ashamed. Returning to the settee, she stared into space.

  “I really am sorry for what I did,” she confessed.

  “It wasn’t all for selfish reasons. I hoped it would shake your father out of his grief…make him live up to his responsibilities.”

  “I understand that now.”

  “And do you forgive me?” Her gaze was intense as she waited for Kitty’s response.

  It was not an easy question, and for Kitty there was no easy answer.

  Though she truly believed that Mildred had been punished enough, there was still a deal of resentment in her heart. There was also a fervent wish to make peace.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Mildred visibly sighed with relief.

  “You don’t know how grateful I am for that,” she said.

  “I honestly didn’t think you’d come.”

  “Why did you send for me?”

  “To confess.” She put up her hand, as though to stern any further questions.

  “This is very hard for me.” She turned away and stared into the empty fire grate her hands folded on her lap. They were trembling uncontrollably. A moment to gather her courage before the words came out in a rush.

  “The money from your father’s house…the business…”

  She turned to look at Kitty, and the tears were running down her face.

  “It’s all gone, Kitty.” Her voice broke on a sob.

  “God forgive me!”

  Kitty had half expected something like this. Harry’s earlier warning returned to mind, and she felt numb.

  “Is there nothing left?” Her voice was flat, emotionless.

  “I’ve signed papers, taken the money out bit by bit until now there’s nothing left.” Mildred continued to stare at Kitty, her face contorted with pain and her eyes red from crying. Her whole body was shaking.

  “I’ll make it up to you somehow,” she promised.

  “My solicitor says Len has the right to half of everything. I might have to sell this house. I don’t care about that any more, but when the house is sold, I’ll give you what I can…it won’t be enough to right the wrong. Nothing ever will.”

  “I don’t want a penny of your money.” There was an unnatural hardness to Kitty’s voice.

  “You’re right. Nothing can ever excuse what you did, but making yourself destitute isn’t the answer either. I don’t want that on my conscience.” She rose to leave.

  “If that’s all, I’ll be on my way.” It had been a mistake coming here, she knew that now.

  “Don’t go, Kitty.” Mildred was blocking her path to the door, “Please! There’s no one else you see…only you.”

  She braced herself.

  “I’m sorry, Aunt, I have to go now.”

  “And you’ll never come here again, will you?” Her voice rose hysterically.

  “You’re like the rest of them…none of you want me.”

  Waving her arms frantically she bawled, “GO ON THEN! Leave me here to rot. I don’t suppose you’ll mind having that on your conscience!”

  Kitty’s temper snapped.

  “Why should I care what happens to you? You never cared about me. You made your excuses and left me to the authorities. You stole my father’s money and now you expect me to pick up the pieces?” It was too much.

  “Look at yourself! Look in the mirror and you’ll see why your life is falling apart. You’re a mess! That’s not my fault. So why should I have you on my conscience?”

  Mildred couldn’t let her leave. If Kitty walked out of that door now, she would end it all. Summoning the small amount of dignity she had left, she squared her shoulders and looked her in the eye. Sighing from deep down, she pleaded with her eyes as she said softly, “Because you’re family…and you’re all I have left in the world.”

  Her softly spoken words jolted Kitty out of the rage that was swelling inside her. She looked at Mildred and saw a pathetic thing, wretched and haggard, her bloodshot eyes swimming with unshed tears and her breath smelling of booze; she saw a creature close to destruction, and suddenly her own mother was in her mind…that beautiful lady in a red two-piece, with a world of sadness in her eyes. She saw the same sadness in Mildred’s face now.

  “I can’t stay,” she muttered.

  “Please, Aunt, don’t ask that of me.” How could she stay? Why should she be responsible for a woman who had treated her the way Mildred had treated her? How could she face her every day, living in this pig-sty and letting herself be drawn into a situation that was not of her making? With steely determination she brushed past her aunt and hurried to the front door.

  Before she could open it, Mildred was on her.

  “DON’T LEAVE ME!” she cried, just as Kitty had cried for her when she was taken from the court to the children’s home.

  Struggling to shake her off, Kitty was appalled when Mildred fell to the floor and there, on her knees, grabbed hold of her hem, clinging like a drowning man to a life raft.

  “I’m frightened,” she sobbed.

  “There’s no one else I can turn to.�
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  Kitty’s heart felt like stone.

  “You know how I felt then! You know what it’s like to be thrown aside…to feel alone in a world filled with strangers.”

  Mildred lowered her gaze. “I know what I’ve done,” she whispered. “I only wish I could turn the clock back.”

  “Well, you can’t!”

  A kind of hatred overwhelmed Kitty then. With a clenched fist she thumped the door and shattered the glass panel. She ran, out of the door and down the street, her mind in a whirl and her heart black with rage. Mildred had tapped something deep inside her, some awful festering resentment that she had long suppressed. But it was released now, surfacing with a vengeance as she sped blindly down the street, fighting the urge to go back and strangle her aunt with her bare hands.

  Behind her, she could hear Mildred calling out. Kitty didn’t listen.

  She didn’t stop. She ran and ran, until somewhere between the bus station and Mildred’s house, she slumped against a wall and burst into sobs.

  “Are you all right, dear?” an old woman asked as she passed by.

  When Kitty nodded, the old soul went away, occasionally looking back and shaking her head.

  It took a while before Kitty was composed. Wandering into the John Bunyan gardens she sat on a bench and watched the traffic go by. She became mesmerised by the traffic lights…green, amber, red, amber, green. Her eyes followed the sequence, while her mind played tricks. A young man ran for his bus, tall and athletic with dark wayward hair.

  She saw him from behind and for one moment thought she knew him.

  “HARRY! HARRY…WAIT!” her voice rang out.

  He turned. It wasn’t Harry. And she was devastated.

  She sat a while longer. A woman walked by with her young daughter.

  Kitty was put in mind of herself and her mother. Her brown eyes grew softer, she almost smiled. Her rage was over, but the loneliness was overwhelming.

  Kitty knew what she must do. It would not be easy, but she would not forgive herself if she did not try. Getting up from the bench, she made her way back towards Park Road. With each step her heart grew quieter and, as she neared her aunt’s house, she felt older somehow, as though she had finally left her childhood behind. She could hear her own steps echoing against the pavement, slow and measured.

  The front door was wide open. Kitty went through to the lounge and there was Mildred, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bottle of gin raised to her mouth. When she saw Kitty, her eyes opened wide and slowly the bottle was lowered. Her face melted into a sad smile and she took a deep breath, held it for what seemed an age, before exhaling, seeming to shrink like a deflated balloon.

  “You came back,” she whispered, her head lolling to one side as she looked up.

  “Oh, Kitty! You came back.” She began crying.

  Kitty knelt beside her.

  “I had to.”

  “Thank you.” That was all. It was enough.

  Closing her fingers round the gin bottle, Kitty asked gently, “Do you really need this?”

  Tears flowed down her aunt’s face. She couldn’t speak. Instead she moved her head slowly from side to side.

  As Kitty removed the bottle, Mildred threw her arms round her.

  “I’ll look after you,” she promised.

  “As God’s my witness.”

  Holding her at arm’s length. Kitty regarded her through misty eyes.

  “We’ll look after each other,” she said, and her smile was the smile of a woman at peace with herself.

  On their knees they clung to each other, and laughed, and cried, and thanked the good Lord for bringing them together. It was a wonderful thing.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Miss Davis was both delighted and intrigued.

  “Whatever do you mean, Kitty?” she enquired.

  “Either your aunt is going to take responsibility for you, or she is not. Which is it?”

  Kitty was in a dilemma.

  “It isn’t as straightforward as that,” she said lamely. The fear uppermost in her mind was that the authorities would not allow Mildred to foster her; after all she hadn’t even been able to take care of herself, let alone be a responsible guardian for her niece.

  Miss Davis pointed to the chair before her desk.

  “It seems to me you have a problem,” she told Kitty kindly.

  “I think you had better sit down so we can thrash it out.”

  Kitty did as she was told. Then she sat in the chair for a whole two minutes before she could reveal what was on her mind. Meanwhile, Miss Davis sat and waited, patient as ever, her eyes never leaving the girl’s troubled face.

  Realising there was only one way to tackle it, and that was head on.

  Kitty took a deep invigorating breath before speaking out.

  “My aunt has asked me to move in with her…” Seeing how the older woman’s face lit up she quickly went on, “I’ve said yes. But…” She bit her lip, her brown eyes troubled as she recalled her visit. Finding her aunt drunk and unkempt, with the house in a sadly neglected state, had been a shock she still hadn’t come to terms with.

  Kitty had toyed with the idea of hiding the truth but, knowing how any keen social worker would worm out the true situation, she decided to have it all out in the open and hope for the best.

  “There’s a problem,” she admitted. “Or rather there was.”

  “Go on, Kitty.” The voice was encouraging. Miss Davis had already guessed the cause of her anxiety.

  “I gather the problem lies with your aunt. Am I right?”

  Kitty nodded.

  “Is it to do with your father’s money? The house and business?”

  “Not really.”

  “What then?”

  “I want you to know that I don’t care about my father’s money…not the house or the business.” Rightly or wrongly she still blamed him for her mother’s death.

  “But…my aunt has used all the money anyway.”

  “Spent it, you mean?” Miss Davis was sitting bolt upright now. This was a potentially disturbing situation.

  Kitty saw the official expression on her face and was quick to assure her, “It’s all right. I know where the money went. We talked it through and it’s all right. Honest.” She didn’t say it was largely squandered on booze and ‘drying out’ clinics, together with huge legal fees to fend off a greedy husband.

  “There’s nothing for you to be concerned about.”

  “I see.” The last thing Miss Davis wanted was to interrogate Kitty.

  “But there is something you are concerned about?”

  Kitty had to choose the right words or spoil her chances of going to live with Mildred.

  “I’m just frightened that the authorities might not let me live with her.” Fear betrayed itself in her voice.

  “I’m worried they might still send me to foster parents.”

  Miss Davis regarded her curiously.

  “You must know we would rather send you to a relative than to an outside foster home.” She saw Kitty fiddling with her fingers, and knew of old that this was a sign of nervousness.

  “Kitty! The years might have made me a bit slower, a bit deafer, and a bit more cantankerous but I am not so senile I can’t tell when something is wrong.”

  Kitty began to relax.

  “It isn’t wrong exactly. Well, not now it isn’t.” Already the situation was beginning to rectify itself.

  “What is it then? Ever since yesterday when you returned from your aunt’s house after a very long visit, I might add you have skilfully avoided me. No, don’t deny it.”

  “I wasn’t about to,” Kitty protested.

  “I was avoiding you for a reason, and now I’m ready to tell you.”

  “And I’m still listening.”

  Kitty knew she could trust this woman, and so she told her everything.

  How she had found Mildred drunk and tearful, begging her to stay. How her uncle had left, taking the children and threatening to
make Mildred sell the house so he could have half and set up home with his new woman.

  “She’s had so many troubles, you see,” Kitty explained with feeling.

  “It’s no wonder she’d given up.”

  “I can’t imagine she’s had any more troubles than you, Kitty. And you never gave up.”

  “I had people to help me. I had Georgie and you…and Harry.” He more than anyone had helped her through.

  “Aunt Mildred has no one.”

  “She had you, Kitty.”

  “No. I was just another burden.”

  “And now?”

  “Now we understand each other.”

  “Are you sure you want to live with her?”

  “At first, when she asked me to live with her, I said no. Then I thought about it and realised it would be for the best. She’s all the family I have, and she really wants me with her.”

  “What about the drinking? You know we can’t allow you to live with her if that continues.”

  “It won’t. She’s promised me. We spent ages cleaning up the house yesterday. She’s happier already. She said the drink was a means of forgetting, a kind of crutch, that’s all. She won’t want it if I’m allowed to move in. You see, she’ll have someone to talk to. She doesn’t need the drink any more. I’ll be her friend instead.”

  Miss Davis was torn two ways. On the one hand she could sympathise with Kitty and her aunt. On the other it was her duty to protect the girl from others…from herself if need be.

  Kitty saw the doubt.

  “Please, Miss Davis,” she pleaded.

  “I don’t want to be with strangers any more. I just want to be with my aunt…my family.”

  There was a long poignant moment while Miss Davis pondered the matter, then in a crisp voice that bespoke her authority, she told Kitty, “All right. Leave it with me for now. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Kitty was thrilled.

  “I knew you’d be on my side,” she whispered.

  “How will I ever thank you?” Her heart was beating nineteen to the dozen.

  To get out of the institution…to be free, responsible for her own actions. It was too much to hope for…too good to be true.

  Fearing she might have given the wrong impression, and knowing how strict the board was in matters like these, Miss Davis cautioned her, “Don’t get your hopes up. I said I would do what I could. In view of what you’ve told me…the drinking and everything…well, I can’t promise.”