Winter on the Mersey(27)
‘Come on then,’ she said to Danny, who stood waiting for her by the kitchen door. ‘Let’s go.’
CHAPTER NINE
Kitty breathed a sigh of relief as they all filed out of the church. She’d done it. She’d got through the ceremony without fluffing her words or making a fool of herself. She’d done her best to ignore the presence of Frank Feeny, who had stood on the other side of Danny throughout, almost close enough to touch. They hadn’t had a moment to speak to each other, as she and Danny had arrived only just in time, thanks to the row with Tommy. Now Frank had gone ahead to walk back with Sylvia.
The sight of that young woman had somewhat thrown Kitty, even more than standing near to Frank – at least she’d been prepared for that. She hadn’t been prepared for Sylvia, or at least not how she looked. Surely she wasn’t the only person who had noticed it. Sylvia had dark curly hair, very similar to Kitty’s own. They were about the same height. They were both Wrens – Sylvia was in uniform, and so Kitty could tell she didn’t have the same seniority. Was all this a coincidence?
‘Come on, Kitty, keep up!’ Sarah teased her. ‘Are you standing around admiring the scenery, or what?’
‘Sorry, I was miles away,’ said Kitty, realising that the girl she’d often dismissed as Rita’s kid sister was now a very attractive young woman in her own right. She gazed around. She hadn’t taken in until now just how much damage there had been to the houses around the church. She almost wouldn’t have recognised some of the streets, they were so changed from how they’d been when she was growing up here.
‘A bit different to how it used to be, isn’t it,’ said Sarah, guessing what Kitty was thinking. ‘You’ll find that a lot. We really caught it bad round here. Well, you’d know that better than anyone of course.’
‘Yes, it’s strange,’ Kitty said ruefully, her mind transported back to the raid that had killed Elliott. ‘I’ve seen the damage before, of course, on my visits back, but it’s easy to forget it when you leave again – somehow I always imagine the streets and buildings back to how they were before the war.’ She shook her head. ‘You’re right, we should catch up with the others.’
‘Yes, we don’t want to miss Ellen’s party,’ said Sarah. ‘There’s a lot to celebrate. Her christening, Jack and Eddy getting leave, you moving home. That’s a lot of excuses rolled into one, so come on.’
‘You must be Kitty,’ said Sylvia, coming across to Dolly’s kitchen window where Kitty was standing, a plate with a ham sandwich on it in her hand. ‘I’m Sylvia Hemsley.’
Kitty put down her plate so that she could shake the Wren’s hand. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ she said, hoping she sounded sincere.
‘I’ve heard so much about you,’ Sylvia went on in her strong Cumberland accent. ‘You’ve just come home, haven’t you? Frank said you might be working alongside us.’
‘Did he?’ Kitty wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or not. Usually she didn’t like anyone discussing her work, out of habit, as you never knew who was listening in to your conversation. But what could be more natural than Frank talking about her return with his girlfriend? They would all know what she did – especially as Frank and Danny worked in the same place, although in different jobs. ‘Well, I don’t know if I’ll be in the same building or not. Probably not, actually. I’ll find out next week. But I expect we’ll bump into one another.’
‘It’s a lovely party, isn’t it,’ Sylvia went on, seeming not to notice Kitty’s hesitation. ‘I was so pleased to be asked. There’s so many people here and that’s a lot of mouths to feed.’
‘Oh, everyone pitched in with coupons and whatever they could spare,’ said Kitty. That was always the case round here. It was the best way of making sure there was enough to go round. On top of that Tommy, Michael and Megan had brought fresh produce from the farm, so that Dolly had been able to use butter and real eggs, usually luxuries beyond reach. Kitty had of course been persuaded to make one of her famous cakes, which she’d baked the afternoon of her first full day back, even though there had only been enough rationed ingredients for one tier – the other tiers were false, merely cardboard imitations. Still, it took pride of place on the dining table, with its pressed white tablecloth only brought out for special occasions.
‘I’m sure they did,’ Sylvia said appreciatively. ‘You won’t find food like this in our mess, I can tell you that.’
‘I know, I’m used to mess food, seeing as I’ve been transferred several times,’ said Kitty, realising that it might sound like a put-down, as though she was stressing her own higher rank, but unable to stop the words from coming out of her mouth.
‘Oh, of course, Frank said,’ Sylvia replied, with no sign of having taken offence.
Kitty couldn’t help but feel at a disadvantage. Clearly Sylvia knew far more about her than she did about the young Wren. She reminded herself that it was inevitable, and she shouldn’t let it upset her. She would have to get used to this. To buy herself some time, she took a bite from her sandwich, savouring the home-made chutney in it. That must have been a product of the victory garden.
She looked up to see Frank had come across to join them. He hadn’t changed much in the years she’d been away, though there was something in his demeanour that had changed. He had always been confident but now there was something else there too; a poise and maturity that only served to make him even more handsome than before. As her eyes met his, she felt that familiar fluttering in her stomach – but was that a slight hesitation that she saw reflected in his? A small wavering in his easy manner? She forced herself to finish her sandwich, although her mouth felt unaccountably dry.