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Living a Lie Page 8
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Quieting the turmoil inside him, he asked, “What have you done to yourself, Kitty?” Reaching out, he caressed her long dark hair; as it tangled about his fingers, fris sons of pleasure rippled through him.
“A new style?” His voice was low and calm. Smiling now, he spoke with the same honesty that had sustained their long friendship.
“It isn’t really you…too harsh, I think.”
Kitty laughed softly.
“Be careful what you say. You just might be taking your life into your hands.”
His smile deepened.
“Would you want me to lie?”
She shook her head.
“No. We’ve never lied to each other.” That was something she would always cherish.
“Are you going to let a fellow die of thirst?” He glanced towards the buffet table, and all the goodies there. His eyes lit up mischievously.
“You’ll have to tell me which cakes you baked, so I can avoid them.”
Kitty chuckled.
“Look here! I was only nine when I made those doughnuts. Nobody asked you to come into our garden and help yourself.”
“It’s a wonder I’m here to tell the tale!” His laugh was infectious.
“Even the dog refused them.”
“Well, you’ll be all right here and I can safely recommend the fairy cakes. Georgie made them, and she’s a first-class cook.”
Harry ate two of Georgie’s cakes and congratulated her.
“Best I’ve ever tasted,” he admitted.
Georgie was thrilled.
“Not bad, eh? But I promise you, I won’t be making cakes for a living.”
“Oh? And what will you be doing?”
“I’ll be driving a minibus…a bright blue one.” With that she made her excuses, whispering in Kitty’s ear as she went, “He’s too bloody handsome, gal. If I were you, I’d take him somewhere safe. Every pair of female eyes in this room has got him tagged.”
Kitty’s thoughtful gaze followed Georgie to the far side of the room.
She watched her go to the hi-fi and turn up the volume; Miss Davis turned it down, and when she wasn’t looking, Georgie turned it up again. Within minutes everyone was dancing, and Miss Davis hadn’t the heart to interfere.
Chuckling at Georgie’s antics, Harry and Kitty stood by the door. The other girls paired off with their partners. Each inmate had been allowed to invite one outsider, and the party was all the merrier because of it. The music slowed to an intimate melody.
“Are you never going to ask me to dance?” Harry teased. Taking Kitty in his arms, he danced her to the centre of the floor where they gave themselves up to the music.
From the perimeter, the observant Miss Davis gave brisk instructions to her helpers, “Keep a sharp eye out. If you see anyone getting the slightest bit romantic, march them into the kitchen. Dorothy would welcome a few more hands to help with the washing-up.”
It was almost an hour later when Kitty got the chance to be alone with Harry. After a skirmish at the buffet table had spilled a quantity of food, Miss Davis organised a clean-up campaign.
“Would you like to see the dormitory?” Kitty had things to say and they were not for others’ ears.
Harry was pleased but surprised.
“Now you’re taking your life into your own hands,” he warned.
Every step they mounted, Kitty expected someone to call out and stop them, but the chaos downstairs meant they could sneak away unnoticed.
“I need to talk with you,” Kitty said, so they sat side by side on her bed and she took a moment to gather her wits. How should she start?
What could she say? Could she make him understand her reasons for what she was about to do? Only an hour ago she’d had it all straight in her mind. Now it was all mixed up, and her courage was already weakening.
Sensing her dilemma, he took her hand in his.
“What ever it is, you know you can tell me,” he said gently.
“You’re still worried about being fostered out, aren’t you?”
Kitty’s every nerve-ending was thrilled by the touch of his hand.
Realising she might never again feel his skin against hers, or be so close to him as she was right now, she hated to spoil it. For one exquisite minute she let pleasure wash through her.
He spoke then, tender and loving as he told her, “You’re not alone, Kitty. If I could do anything to change your circumstances, you know I would.”
“It’s all right. I’ve got used to being here, and I’m growing into the idea of being fostered.”
“You shouldn’t be going to strangers, not when you have an aunt who is perfectly capable of taking you in.” It was a sore point with him.
“Have you heard from her?”
“Yes, I’ve heard from her.” Kitty could understand his anger, because it echoed her own.
“But even if she offered to take me, I would have to refuse.”
“Why?” He was not too surprised though.
“Because we wouldn’t get on,” she said. What she thought was, Because I can’t forgive her!
They talked of Mildred and her strange behaviour; they discussed Harry’s recent mountaineering expedition, and his successful university interview. He outlined his ambition of being a financial consultant one day. They talked of mundane matters, laughed and chatted about this and that, indulging in small talk, meaningless exchanges, when all the while each had something far more important to confess, a special thing that was hard to bring out into the open; something that didn’t really need saying, but that throbbed beneath the surface like another heartbeat.
Disturbed and excited by his nearness, Kitty began hurriedly explaining about the dormitory and how each person had their own small area and no one ever interfered with other people’s belongings. Harry put a gentle finger to her lips.
“I don’t really want to know all that,” he murmured, “I want to know about you. I want to know that you won’t come to any harm, that you like the Connors, and that you meant what you said about coming to terms with everything. I need to know that you have a happier heart. Kitty, or I can’t rest.”
Holding her hand as though he would never let it go, he smiled at her with his dark brooding eyes.
“You know what I’m saying, don’t you, Kitty?” He was saying he loved her. He was saying he wanted to hear that she loved him. More than that, he hoped she might make a mention of the future…of their future.
“What do you want from life, Kitty?Beyond this place, and the Connors, what then?”
She knew well enough what he was saying, and she was afraid. The wrong word from her and his whole future could be ruined. What right had she to ask him to wait for her? He was a young man on the threshold of going to university, ambitious and with a wonderful career ahead of him. She could not, would not, hold him back.
Suppressing her deeper feelings, she said in a matter-of-fact voice, “I don’t want you worrying about me because I’ll be fine. I’m fourteen soon, and the time will fly. When I’m sixteen, my life will be my own. It’s too early to think about the future. I’ll just take each day as it comes.”
Her flippancy belied the awful anxiety she felt. The thought of being out there in the world, without her every move being controlled, was both frightening and exhilarating.
“Then what will you do…when you’re sixteen and free to live your own life?” He waited hopefully for her answer.
Kitty shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m not sure. All I know is, I have a lot to forget before I can be altogether free.” She could talk to Harry, tell him most things that were in her heart.
“Everyone here. Miss Davis and the others, they try but they don’t really understand. No one does, except maybe Georgie. I have to forget all that happened, you see, but my parents…the train…that awful fire. It’s still too real. Sometimes I think it will never go away.”
“It will.” He had to promise her that.
“In time, you’ll be ab
le to think about it and it won’t hurt any more.” Sliding his arm round her shoulders, he drew her close, courage swelling inside him.
“I love you, Kitty,” he murmured. “Not like the way I loved you when we were kids.” Looking down into those wonderful brown eyes he was moved to confess, “Like a man. That’s how I love you now.”
“I know,” she whispered, “but it’s too soon.” This was what she had been afraid of. His love for her, her love for him…and all it meant. She raised her face to his, her mouth half-open, her soft eyes betraying all the emotions she had prayed to conceal.
When his mouth came down on hers the pleasure was almost unbearable; the tip of his tongue touched hers and she was drowning in the need for him. His strong arms folded round her as they sank together into the softness of the bedclothes. His kisses were wonderful, strong and passionate, urgent as her need for him; his long fingers found their way to her breast, toying delightfully with her small taut nipple and creating all manner of desires in her.
Her mind was saying: No. Tell him the truth! Tell him it’s all wrong.
Tell him you need more time, that you’re not ready. Say you don’t want him. Ask him to go away and never come back!
Her heart told a different story. Don’t deny the love you feel for him. Harry is the best thing in your life. For as long as you have him and his love, you will never need anyone else.
Kitty’s senses were reeling. She felt warm and safe in his arms; his gentle voice murmured in her ear and it seemed so natural that they should be together.
Suddenly in the distance they heard Miss Davis’s voice:
“Kitty Marsh, are you in there?” It was like the crack of a whip.
Before the irate woman strode the full length of the room, Harry had composed himself enough to scramble off the bed and open a drawer which he pretended to be peering into; Kitty too was suitably subdued and standing next to him, her heart beating like a wild thing.
“Miss Davis!” Feigning horror, she gasped, “You gave me a fright!”
Miss Davis stood for a minute, her sharp eyes noticing that they seemed very guilty.
“What’s going on here?” she demanded in a stern voice.
Closing the drawer, Harry stepped forward.
“It was noisy downstairs and we needed to talk,” he confessed. “I’m sorry if I’ve broken any rules.”
Kitty said it was her fault because she was the one who had suggested the dormitory.
“We had a great deal to talk about,” she said. “Please don’t be angry.”
The woman’s heart softened. There was a time when she too had been young, though she had never been as lovely as Kitty.
“It’s my fault as much as anyone’s. I should have made sure the upper rooms were locked. Now go downstairs where I can keep an eye on you.”
As she escorted them down, Miss Davis would have thrown a fit if she’d realised what was going on behind her back. Indulging in a bit of hanky-panky herself, Georgie crept out from under her bed, “Bloody hell! That was a close shave. It’s like bleedin’ Trafalgar Square in ‘ere!” Grinning at her nervous companion, a sickly-looking youth with pimples, she giggled, “Back to business, lover boy. Hope the fright ain’t shrunk your manhood?” then she dragged him on top of the nearest bed and helped him off with his trousers.
The party was almost over. Harry had been deep in thought for the past half-hour and Kitty was even more determined to tell him what she should have told him upstairs, before she let her heart rule her head.
“Better say your goodbyes now.” Miss Davis began herding the younger ones together.
“Time to clear up.” Everyone groaned but knew better than to argue.
In serious mood, Harry suggested, “Walk me to the door, before she claps eyes on us and drags you away.”
Outside the breeze cut sharp. Harry took off his jacket and wrapped it round her shoulders.
“I’m sorry about what happened earlier,” he apologised.
“I took advantage.”
There was more to it than that. Shocked, and ashamed of his own actions, he knew it was time to let Kitty go at her own pace.
Kitty didn’t hold him to blame. She’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her. The whole incident had only confirmed her opinion that theirs was a dangerous relationship, one in which Harry was bound to make sacrifices she could not ask of him.
All evening Kitty had put off telling him of her decision, deeply reluctant to bring an end to what had been the only light in her life.
Now more than ever she knew what must be done. She never wanted to hurt him, but he could only be hurt all the more by her clinging on.
Better for her to make that one awful sacrifice and let him go. But her courage was failing fast. It was now or never.
“Harry, there’s something I have to tell you.” Knowing this would be the hardest thing she would ever have to do, she went on quickly, “It’s about you and me.” The words tumbled one over the other.
“If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t know what I would have done…but I…”
She looked away from him, searching for the right words.
“Oh, Harry! How can I say what has to be said?”
He stopped her mouth with a kiss.
“Do you love me, Kitty?”
“You know I do.” She was weakening.
“Don’t say anything else, sweetheart,” he pleaded. “I know what’s on your mind, and I can’t blame you. You’re angry with me, and you have every right.” His dark eyes flashed with anger.
“Up there just now, I ought to have known better. I want you, I can’t deny that, and I love you so much it hurts. But that’s no excuse. I’ll be eighteen this year. I should know right from wrong, and it was not only wrong but selfish of me to force myself on you.”
When he saw she was about to interrupt, he took hold of her hands and pressed them to his chest. “Let me finish, Kitty. You’ll never know how hard it is for me to say this but it must be said. Am I asking too much of you? Am I causing you pain when instead I should be helping you through what must be a nightmare?”
In the cool of the evening, Kitty could see his breath fanning out in the night air; she could feel it on her face. Looking into his face, she realised with a little shock how very handsome he was. Thick black hair tumbled over his forehead as he bent to speak with her; strong chiselled features and dark smouldering eyes met hers. Even when they were small children she had always loved him, as a friend she’d thought, a confidant, the brother she’d never had. Now she was made to wonder. Even then, without realising, had she loved him the way she did now?
“You could never cause me pain,” she whispered.
Her words made him smile.
“But I have,” he said.
“And I never wanted that. All I’ve ever wanted was for us to be together when the time comes, to plan ahead together and wait patiently for the day when I can make you my wife. But that’s what I want. I’ve never asked what you want, and that’s why I’m being selfish. And now I’m afraid. The truth is, sweetheart, I can’t trust myself with you. You saw that tonight.”/p>
Stroking her face with long sensuous fingers, he gazed at her with a tenderness that melted her heart.
“I know you need time,” he murmured, “time to get over all the things that have happened, time to see clearly ahead…to think about your future. No one else can do that for you. Kitty. No one else has the right. I understand all of that, and I only want what is best for you. I’ll abide by whatever you decide.” He took a deep breath.
“What I need to know is this…have I spoiled everything between us? Should I walk away now, and never see you again?”
Kitty hesitated. He could not know what he was asking. This was her opportunity. She might never be free from the past, but at least she could set Harry free. With her heart in her mouth she answered him, and the words choked her.
“It might be better that way, Harry.” A thickness rose in her t
hroat, and hot scalding tears. She stifled them. He must not see she was lying.
His dark pained eyes lingered a moment on her face, then he raised his gaze to the grey shifting sky, his thoughts in turmoil. At length he bent to kiss her, “Out of the two of us you’re the stronger,” he murmured. A long agonising moment to drink on her beauty, then, “Goodbye, Kitty.” When she simply lowered her gaze and stared at the ground, he walked away. How he turned from her, he would never know.
But when he did, he left a part of himself behind.
Fighting the urge to run after him, Kitty told herself she must be cruel to be kind.
“Goodbye, Harry,” she whispered.
“Don’t forget me.”
Out of the darkness came a soft reproachful voice Georgie’s.
“You’re a fool, Kitty Marsh,” she said.
“No one will ever love you like he does.”
It was the last thing Kitty wanted to hear. When she turned the tears were raining down her face.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” she cried. With a sob she fell into Georgia’s arms and cried till her tears ran dry.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was Monday morning. Kitty was seated cross-legged on her bed.
Beside her lay two white envelopes, one addressed to her Aunt Mildred, the other to Harry.
In the bright morning light, her gaze fell on the letters. Reaching out she picked up Harry’s and held it to her lips. She could still feel his kisses on her mouth, still feel his warm strong arms about her. Since the party, she had questioned herself over and over. Should she send the letter, or should she tear it up? Was it right to leave things as they were? Or, like Georgie said, wouldn’t it be better at least to keep in touch with him rather than cut him out of her life altogether? Kitty had agonised, gone without sleep and prayed that she had done the right thing for both of them. She and Georgie had talked about it, argued and pondered. In the end Kitty decided that whichever way she turned, she would be doing wrong. There was an emptiness in her heart that nothing could fill, and now she was going away. Soon strangers would be here to collect her, and she was afraid. Only the thought of Harry kept her strong.