The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(40)



‘I’ll say.’ Elliott raised his glass and took a sip. ‘Every time I read yours, I imagine you writing it, and can’t wait until I see you again. Now we’re here. I’ve missed you, Kitty.’

‘I think about you too,’ Kitty said. ‘I know you don’t have much time to write, so that makes your letters extra-special. I’m so glad to get them.’ Their eyes met, and for a moment she thought he was going to lean forward and kiss her. Then from the bar came a roar from the RAF men, and a figure emerged from behind their group.

‘Fitzgerald! You never said you were coming back, how sly!’ A man of Elliott’s age with fair skin and red hair came up to their table. ‘I saw your folks the other day and they didn’t say a dickie bird. Good to see you, old chap.’

Elliott rose and shook the man’s had warmly. ‘Smedley, I had no idea you were still here.’

‘I’m at the Royal Free these days, specialist unit,’ the man said. ‘Didn’t you go up north? Up to the wilds somewhere?’

Kitty tried not to flinch; she was getting used to all southerners assuming civilisation didn’t reach very far past London.

‘Hardly the wilds,’ said Elliott. ‘But we’ve had a bit of a rum do up there recently, you could say. We’ve been kept busy, no doubt about it.’ He turned to include Kitty in the conversation. ‘Kitty, may I introduce you to Dr Bill Smedley, scourge of the operating theatre and my very good friend from when we trained at Barts. Bill, this is Kitty Callaghan of the WRNS.’

‘Very pleased to meet you,’ the red-haired man said, shaking her hand easily. ‘Elliott, you lucky man. A Wren, eh? And how do you like London, Miss Callaghan?’

Kitty brought herself back down to earth after the uncertainty of not knowing if Elliott was going to kiss her or not, but soon fell into relaxed conversation with the man. He obviously thought a lot of Elliott, and she found herself glowing with pride for him. She’d known he was a good doctor from his time treating Tommy and Danny – and besides, Rita always knew what the nurses thought of the doctors, and the ones who were all mouth got little sympathy from them. But to hear it from an old friend was immensely satisfying. It wasn’t until he’d made his way back to his friends – ‘Mustn’t outstay my welcome’, but said with a wink – that she took a moment to realise that she was actually sitting in a pub in the capital city making conversation with two doctors, neither of whom were looking down on her. In fact, one was looking at her in a very special way indeed.

‘Maybe you’d like to go dancing tomorrow, though, Kitty?’ Elliott asked, a tender but hopeful look on his face. ‘I could show you my favourite spot in the West End. I’m sure you’d like it.’

Kitty felt excitement well up in her. Elliott was a very skilful dancer – he’d once confessed he had been a champion, back in his student days – and she suddenly remembered the way he’d held her round the waist on New Year’s Eve, which she’d found herself enjoying far more than she would have imagined, despite all her nervous insecurity at the time. She decided she would very much like him to hold her that way again, with his warm hands pressing against the silky fabric of her dress. ‘Oh yes please,’ she said. ‘That would be wonderful.’

‘It would be my pleasure, indeed, my honour,’ he said with a grin to show her he meant it but wouldn’t take it too seriously. ‘Would you like to ask your friends to come too?’ Marjorie and Laura had met him briefly when he’d come to collect her earlier; they’d been extremely keen to meet the fabled author of the letters which Kitty anticipated so keenly. ‘I wouldn’t neglect you, I just thought you might enjoy having them with us.’

For a moment Kitty fought off the sensation of inadequacy. Part of her wanted to keep Elliott all to herself on their brief weekend together. She’d have to compete with Laura to be seen as someone who fitted in with the London nightlife, who knew how to dress, dance and behave in such a sophisticated set. Then she berated herself. He hadn’t asked Laura out – he’d asked her. ‘That’s so kind of you to think of that,’ she said. ‘I’ll ask them.’

‘But they won’t hold a candle to you, Kitty,’ Elliott assured her. Then he leant forward and, in the middle of the crowded pub, softly planted a kiss on her lips. He drew back before she could be embarrassed. ‘That’s just on account,’ he smiled. ‘But I couldn’t resist you, Kitty Callaghan.’

She had to stop herself from gasping aloud. He’d done that – him, a doctor, and her just plain Kitty Callaghan from Empire Street. It was all too much to take in. Across the room she caught sight of a young woman with slightly tousled dark hair, eyes bright, cheeks slightly flushed, and immediately alongside her the back view of a well-set man in an immaculately cut jacket. It took her a moment to register it was a mirror and the man was Elliott, the young woman was her. Everything was happening so fast and she could feel herself changing along with the pace of the times. Where would it all lead? She had to gather her courage and see where this new life might take her.

Rita stared at the letter, her heart hammering furiously. She’d known this would happen but it was still a horrible shock to see it in black and white. One of the main suppliers to the shop was demanding immediate payment for its goods or it would suspend trading with her. Rita knew she needed this firm; they’d done business for ages and it would be well nigh impossible to sign up with anyone else. They’d take one look at the slowly failing shop and turn her down without a backward glance. She also knew she didn’t have the money. Wild ideas came into her head. Should she ask Danny to see what fell off the back of a lorry down at the docks? But she couldn’t go down that route – that was Winnie’s way, but it wasn’t hers. Even when her back was against the wall, Rita knew she couldn’t be dishonest. She wouldn’t be able to face herself in the mirror in the morning if she did that. Damn Charlie – he’d treated her like a punchbag, brought disgrace upon the family, and scarpered off without a care in the world, leaving her with this mess, which she’d never asked for in the first place.

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