The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(23)
‘She doesn’t. She just spoke about it once, before you all arrived.’ Kitty sighed. ‘She said they were close. I hadn’t realised just how much.’
How hard it must be for Laura, she reflected, suffering in silence, surrounded by young men who must remind her all the time of the uncertainty that hung over her brother’s fate, always preparing herself for the worst possible news, never knowing how long she would have to go on in limbo. Kitty recognised that the young woman’s devil-may-care attitude was her way of coping, but it only plastered over the wound, it didn’t come close to healing it. The confidence – arrogance, almost – masked a deep hurt that could never go away until Freddy’s fate was resolved one way or the other.
‘You take your time, Laura,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to pretend in front of us. We understand.’
Laura turned back to them both. ‘Thanks,’ she said, wiping her eyes. ‘Oh God. I must look a proper fright.’
‘Here, have this.’ Kitty retrieved a handkerchief from her sleeve. ‘Clear up the worst with this, and then go to put on some more lipstick. I’ll come with you if you like.’
‘No, no, you stay here.’ Laura was recovering now, sounding more like her old self. ‘I’ll go on my own, I’ll be all right. But tell you what.’
‘What?’ Kitty and Marjorie said together.
‘Wave at that nice waiter and get me another one of these. Make it a double.’ With that Laura painted on a determined smile and pushed her way to the door of the ladies’.
Kitty twisted around to do as she was asked, catching sight of the waiter and raising her hand. Good for Laura – even though she was in despair about her brother, she wasn’t going to let it ruin their evening. And it was an easy mistake to make, Kitty realised. Anyone could do it. For example, there in the corner, among a group of officers in naval uniform, there was a young man with a head of gorgeous blond hair who from this angle was the spitting image of Frank Feeny. But no, she chided herself: that was all past. Her heart was fluttering involuntarily because of all the excitement of the evening – it was nothing more than that …
CHAPTER NINE
‘So I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then?’ Rita got up to go home, even though she’d rather have stayed in her mother’s kitchen to carry on the lively conversation. ‘Thanks, Violet, you don’t know what a relief it is to have your help.’
‘Think nothing of it!’ Violet insisted, and gave one of her braying laughs, which even after all these months made Rita’s ears ring. But she’d happily put up with that for the comfort of knowing the shop wasn’t going to be left in Winnie’s increasingly incapable hands.
‘What about Georgie?’ demanded Nancy, pouting at being sidelined yet again. ‘I was going to ask you if you could have him overnight and tomorrow morning, then I’d come round to pick him up. Do I have to change my plans?’
‘Plans? What plans?’ Rita paused on her way out. ‘You didn’t say anything, Nancy.’ Privately she thought for the thousandth time that her younger sister didn’t know how lucky she was. She could play with her beautiful, healthy son every day, watching him change and grow before her eyes: he was walking with increasing confidence and beginning to learn their names. Here he was now, just about managing to toddle towards her, holding out his arms, saying ‘ri-ri-ri’, which was as close as he could get to Rita. She bent down to hug him. He was adorable – why didn’t his mother want to look after him? Rita held him close, savouring the smell of his soft hair, which reminded her of her own children when they were that age. She sent up a silent prayer for their safety. Even though she knew they were well and happy, every day without them was like a blow to her heart.
‘Oh honestly, I’ve told you all of this before.’ Nancy rolled her eyes. ‘You know very well that Gloria’s coming home. She’s been a big success in London and now she’s going on tour. She’s coming to Liverpool today and I’m going to go and meet her. They’re putting her up at the Adelphi! I’m not going to miss that!’
‘Well, that’s a change from the Sailor’s Rest and no mistake,’ observed Dolly, who was fond of Gloria even though she’d got a reputation for being fast. ‘I hope she’s going to make some time to visit her parents in all of this high life. They won’t have seen her for ages.’
‘Oh, she’s bound to,’ Nancy lied. Gloria’s parents weren’t like Dolly and Pop. Mr and Mrs Arden were more bothered by how well their pub was doing than what their only daughter got up to. ‘Mam, you’ll take Georgie, won’t you? He loves being here, look at him now. It’s his favourite place in the world.’ She wondered if she was laying it on a bit thick, but she could usually persuade her mother, and it was true that George liked nothing better than to stay at his granny’s.
Dolly regarded her most troublesome child with a baleful air, in full knowledge that she was being taken advantage of, but she could never stay cross with her for long. ‘Oh, all right then,’ she said. ‘But make sure you behave yourself, young lady. I won’t have you being the talk of the street.’ Nancy pursed her lips at her mother but wisely kept any backchat to herself. The business with Stan Hathaway was still a sore spot between them and she didn’t want to risk any curtailment of her night out.