Living a Lie Read online

  A sound at the door made her look up. It was Georgie.

  “They’re here, gal,” she said.

  “Miss Davis has them in her office…they’re drinking coffee, would you believe? Here we are, about to be thrown to the wolves, and all they can do is drink bloody coffee!” She flung herself on the bed with such force that Kitty bounced up into the air.

  She had tried so hard not to show her feelings. Now, with Georgie beside her, and their parting so close, the words tumbled out.

  “I’m frightened, Georgie. I wish I didn’t have to go. I wish we weren’t leaving, you and me.”

  “Hey!” Georgie gave her a playful push.

  “You speak for yourself, my girl! I’m sorry to be leaving you behind, but we’ve already said we’ll keep in touch, so it ain’t as if we’ll never see each other again, is it? But I’m glad to be getting my own place at last. To tell the truth, I can’t wait to get my arse out of here!” She gave a little whoop of joy.

  “My own front door key, eh? And what about you? A proper family of your very own, and from what you tell me…a bedroom big enough to entertain a dozen blokes at a time!”

  Kitty couldn’t help but laugh.

  “What would I want with a dozen blokes?” Instinctively she glanced at Harry’s letter.

  “Ah!” Georgie caught sight of the name and address on the envelope.

  “You did write it after all?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll post it though.” Once it was out of her hands it would be too late.

  “What have you told him?”

  “That I’m sorry we parted the way we did, and that I was wrong to think it would be better if we never saw each other again. I’ve asked him to write, and given him the address of where I’m going.”

  “Did you tell him how you feel? I mean…how you really feel about him? Did you say you wanted the same things he did…that you need him to wait for you, and there is nothing more in all the world you want, other than to be with him? Did you tell him that?”

  Kitty lowered her gaze.

  “No, I didn’t say those things.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it would be asking too much of him, and I won’t do that.”

  “It’s what he wants.”

  “It’s what he thinks he wants.” Kitty shook her head.

  “Harry is good and kind. He’s always looked after me…when I was small, when I was growing up, while I’ve been in here. He was the one I ran to when my parents were fighting…the one who came here to see me when even my own aunt couldn’t be bothered.” She looked at his name on the envelope and wondered what he was doing at that moment. Was he thinking of her?

  Was he thanking his lucky stars that he had been let off the hook? Or was he waiting for the postman…watching for this letter?

  “Send it, gal,” Georgie urged.

  “You ain’t got nobody else except me, and I’m as much use as a fart in the wind.”

  Kitty laughed out loud.

  “What am I going to do without you, eh?”

  Georgie took stock of her.

  “Oh, you’ll manage well enough,” she said.

  “It’s me that will miss you.” There was something very secret about her smile.

  “To be honest, gal, I don’t know if I could have survived tragedy the way you have. But, you see, you’re a lion at heart, while I’m a coward. That’s the difference between us.”

  Kitty took hold of her hand.

  “You’re never a coward,” she said firmly. “And I really will miss you…at the breakfast table; in the dormitory; meeting you from the factory. I’ll miss the tales you tell about your workplace, and I’ll miss your terrible laugh, and the way you torment Miss Picton, and oh…everything about you!” She had to stop there because the words wouldn’t come out any more.

  Georgie looked at her for what seemed an age before saying in a soft voice, “You’ll miss Harry much more, gal. It will be a long, lonely road without him.”

  Kitty knew the truth of that. But there was no answer, so she gave none. Instead she put on a bright voice and a brighter smile and suggested, “We’d best make our way down. Miss Davis will be sending up the heavy brigade.”

  Georgie laughed “What! Miss Picton? A good breeze would knock her over.”

  It took only a minute for them to empty their cupboards and fill a duffel-bag each with the few things they owned. At the door they took one last look.

  “Seems funny though, don’t it?” Georgie muttered.

  “I’m glad to be going, but this has been the only real home I’ve known.”

  “I won’t miss this place,” Kitty admitted. She put her arm round Georgie and hugged her close.

  “But, whatever you say, I’ll miss you, like nothing on earth.” All those times when Kitty was alone and afraid, Georgie had made her laugh through the tears. Now she was alone and afraid again, being entrusted to strangers and made to start all over. Only this time it was worse. And this time she didn’t have Harry either.

  As they came down the stairs, Kitty saw them waiting in the hall: the familiar bulky form of Miss Davis, Dorothy Picton nervously fluttering in the background, and the Connors, a smart, well-dressed couple in their late-thirties all smiling at her as she descended the stairway.

  “Cor, bloody hell, gal, they don’t look short of a bob or two, gal,” Georgie muttered, “I reckon you’ve fallen on your feet there.”

  Kitty regarded her new family through Georgie’s eyes. Patricia Connor was small and thin, with fair hair and brilliant blue eyes; her husband Raymond was a big man with broad straight shoulders, small dark eyes and thin brown hair scraped back from a high expanse of forehead. A quiet man by nature, his gestures and eyes spoke volumes.

  Kitty preferred him to his wife, but: “They’re good people,” she told Georgie. To Kitty that was more important than if they had ‘a bob or two’. “Though I don’t care much for their son.”

  Adam Connor was about the same age as Harry, but they couldn’t be more different, she thought. He had always treated her well and made her welcome on home visits, but there was something about him she didn’t like. Something devious.

  Georgie was the first to leave.

  “I’m sure no one would mind if you wanted a minute to say your goodbyes.” Miss Davis glanced first at Kitty, then at the Connors.

  “These young women have been inseparable,” she explained with a motherly smile.

  Dorothy Picton took the Connors upstairs to show them the dormitory, and Miss Davis gave George a little pep talk.

  “Good luck to you,” she said.

  “But remember to stay out of trouble!” She gave her a wry little smile.

  “I know what a temper you’ve got.”

  “You ain’t a bad old cow,” Georgie told her, and the big woman went away to have a little weep. It was always painful when she lost one of her brood.

  They were alone now.

  “Take care of yourself,” Kitty told Georgie.

  “We must never lose touch.”

  Throwing wide her arms, Georgie grabbed hold of her.

  “Come here, you bugger!” she said, and the two of them hugged and cried, but soon they were laughing, and the future seemed rosy.

  “You’ve got my address, gal,” Georgie reminded her.

  “I want plenty of letters, mind…full of every little detail.” She gave a cheeky wink.

  “And don’t miss anything out…especially not the raunchy bits.”

  Kitty said she would write often, but she didn’t know about the ‘raunchy’ bits.

  “You never know your luck, gal,” Georgie laughed, and Kitty thought she might have to invent something ‘raunchy’, just to keep her happy.

  “Don’t forget to ask the Connors if you can come and see my place.”

  “I’m sure they couldn’t keep me away,” Kitty answered.

  “I’m counting on us being able to spend some time together, even if it’s only to go round Bed
ford market on a Saturday.” So far, though, the Connors had given no hint that she would be able to continue the relationship. If anything they seemed to avoid the subject of Georgie altogether. It was something Kitty meant to take up with them as soon as she was settled.

  Georgie was more abrupt.

  “I wouldn’t count on them saying yes, gal,” she advised.

  “The Connor woman doesn’t like me. It’s plain as the nose on your face, she thinks I’m dirt under her foot.”

  Kitty argued, “How can you tell that? She’s only clapped eyes on you twice…once when she first came to see me and just now. You can’t form an opinion just like that.”

  All the same, deep down she knew Georgie was right. Patricia Connor disapproved of her.

  “It’s my own fault,” Georgie confessed with a chuckle. “It were bad enough the two of us sliding down the banisters when she first saw me, but what really turned her off was when I said I’d got a splinter stuck up me arse!”

  Kitty laughed at the memory.

  “You only told the truth,” she said.

  “Too right! And if it hadn’t been for you fishing it out, that bloody splinter might have been stuck there to this day.”

  When the moment came for them to say goodbye, the others had returned and Georgie was in a quiet mood. Kitty felt as though a great weight was pressing down inside her, and when her friend embraced her, she whispered, “I love you, Georgie.”

  “I love you too, gal,” came the chirpy reply.

  “Don’t forget now…you’ve already proved that things ain’t so bad you can’t rise above ‘em. Keep in touch. And, remember all the sexy bits!”

  When her friend went through the door. Kitty admired the way she was still smiling and making jokes. She was shocked when Georgie turned round to wave and the morning sunlight caught the glint of tears falling down her face. In that moment, Kitty knew she had caught yet another glimpse of the real Georgie; the one she kept hidden from the world; the one that was much like Kitty herself. And she vowed to be there whenever Georgie needed her, just as Harry had been there whenever she needed him.

  “Do you want me to post these for you?” Miss Davis had seen the two letters in Kitty’s hand.

  She thought a moment before handing one over.

  “This one if you could, please.” She tore the second into shreds.

  “This can go in the bin.”

  Against all her better instincts she decided not to contact Harry.

  “Goodbye then. Be happy, Kitty. We’ll be keeping in touch, as you know.”

  “Goodbye, Miss Davis, and thanks for everything.” As she followed the Connors out of the door and into their Jaguar, both Patricia and her husband showered her with affection. The woman laughed and chatted and squeezed her lovingly, while her husband said very little but smiled encouragingly. One look from him said more than his wife could in a dozen sentences.

  Settled in the cream leather seat, Kitty looked back. Miss Davis and the others were standing on the doorstep, waving and smiling.

  “You can’t know how much we’ve always longed for a daughter of our very own,” Kitty heard Patricia Connor say.

  “We’ll do everything we can to make you happy.”

  The journey was slow.

  “Monday morning traffic is a nightmare,” Patricia moaned.

  “Still, we’ll soon have you home and safe. I’ve planned a special family dinner for tonight…Adam is so excited at having a sister…we didn’t want to foster a baby, we’re too old for that now…we wanted someone your age…a young woman in the making…someone we could talk to sensibly…someone we could mould and influence, if you know what I mean?”

  She went on and on, until her husband told her to be quiet because he couldn’t concentrate on the road. She sulked a little, but the peace was soothing and Kitty gave silent thanks. Still, she liked them a lot, and that was a good start.

  Kitty sat in the corner of the big car, anxious about her destination.

  With thoughts of Georgie and Harry flooding her mind, she turned her gaze out of the window and watched the changing countryside. As they drove through the pretty village of Ridgmont, with its lovely old church, she could see herself walking down the aisle of that ancient place, dressed in a long white dress and carrying a bouquet of small white roses and blue lavender.

  In the past, whenever she’d entertained girlish dreams of being a bride, Kitty had always seen it that way. Every detail was etched on her soul: the church with its beautiful stained-glass window above the altar, the bouquet, the fairytale wedding gown with its sweetheart neckline and trailing veil. Every little detail, as though she had seen it in real life, as though she was cradling a premonition. One day, it said, this will all come true. It was hard to believe that now.

  When she first dared to dream, she did not know the identity of the young man waiting at the altar; sometimes she would tell her friend Harry about it, and he would merely smile and say, “Whoever he is, he’s a very lucky bloke.” And Kitty would wonder about the young man.

  Who was he? Where and when would they meet? Now she knew} In her latest dreams, the young man had turned to her as she approached and his face was loving and familiar. It was Harry, tall and handsome, his dark eyes smiling at her, and she wondered why she had not seen it right from the start. Only now none of it mattered, because Harry was gone. She had no wish to be married to anyone else.

  This was why she was afraid for the future, afraid of being alone, afraid of being old some day, and having no one to love. It was a desperate prospect and one she pushed from her mind.

  On the way out of the village stood the most delightful cottage, a long rambling place with leaded light windows and a low wall fronting the road. Kitty smiled, her heart filled with memories of Harry. She couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be for them to be together in such a darling place.

  “Stop torturing yourself,” she murmured, and quickly concentrated her mind on other matters. Her thoughts turned to Adam Connor. He was a strange young man. Suddenly she felt apprehensive in a different way. She still couldn’t quite decide what it was about him that made her cringe inside, but there was something. Something quietly unsettling.

  As they came down the hill into Ampthill, the sun was beginning to shine and the world didn’t look quite so grey. At the bottom the car turned left, through a narrow street and out into the open road.

  “Home at last,” Patricia Connor said, half turning with a smile.

  “A cup of tea and a little chat, then we’re off to Bedford.”

  Mr. Connor gave her a curious glance.

  “You might give Kitty a chance to settle in first!”

  “Don’t be silly, Raymond. I’m sure she would rather go round the shops and choose her new clothes. She certainly can’t be comfortable with the awful things she’s wearing.” Twisting in her seat she regarded Kitty with narrowed eyes, scrutinising the straight dark skirt, blue V-necked jumper and long mackintosh.

  “That’s right, isn’t it, dear? You’re not at all happy with those shabby clothes? You want to choose your new wardrobe as soon as possible, I should think?”

  Kitty felt uncomfortable, like piggy in the middle. Hoping it wasn’t a taste of things to come, she answered, “Whatever you think best.”

  That seemed to satisfy the woman for she turned and said to her husband, “There! What did I tell you? Anyway, there’s no need for you to come with us. You can go back to the office if you like…sell some more houses to pay for Kitty’s clothes.” He made no reply to that, but gave her a long look. It was enough to silence her, at least until they got inside the house.

  It was huge, a rambling white building with panoramic windows, beautifully manicured lawns and a long winding drive leading to the double garage. The inside was immaculate; almost like a show house on one of Mr. Connor’s new estates. The lounge fronted the entire length of the house, but furnished with cream leather furniture and pale plush carpets, it seemed cold a
nd unwelcoming, not a place for living in, more a place for entertaining. Kitty thought.

  The whole house was decorated to the same theme, with deep pile carpets, long floral curtains with tasselled tiebacks and swags draped above. There were three bathrooms, five bedrooms, and a beautiful galleried landing that could have been mistaken for an airport runway.

  “I do like plenty of space,” Patricia cooed as she showed Kitty to her room.

  This turned out to be a suite; an impossibly spacious bedroom with fitted wardrobes across one wall, a huge four poster standing in pride of place in the centre of the room, whitewood dressing-table and wardrobe, each exquisitely inlaid with golden scrolls. There was a huge vase filled with early roses standing on a small table by the window, and another on the dressing-table. The bathroom was all chrome and glass, and the sitting room was like being in a fish bowl, with its huge windows and trailing plants.

  “This is your own private room,” Patricia said grandly, “where you can bring your friends.” She looked at Kitty, and her face was one big smile. “Do you like it?”

  “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.” In truth, Kitty hated it.

  Delighted, Patricia twirled on the spot, both skinny arms stretched wide as she encompassed the rooms in one extravagant gesture.

  “It’s all new,” she sighed.

  “Carpets, curtains, everything. I even had it redecorated right through, though of course we had the entire house decorated only last year.” Chuckling, she confided, “Extravagant, I suppose, especially when this room has never really been used by anyone.” She sighed noisily.

  “Raymond and I had a little argument about it, but I won in the end. I always do.”

  “I’m sure it would have been fine the way it was.” The knowledge that she had already caused at least two arguments between man and wife made Kitty even more uncomfortable.

  “Nonsense! The room was all wrong. Like I said, I wanted it to be a suitable place for you to bring your friends back to.”

  “It’s very generous. Thank you,” Kitty replied, while wondering, Why do I want all this space? And what friends is she talking about?

  “Can I bring Georgie here?” she dared to ask.