Winter on the Mersey(29)

There was nothing he could do about it either way, so he kept smiling, kept sipping the very welcome rum that both Eddy and Jack had managed to bring home, and carefully kept his thoughts away from Kitty’s reappearance in his life. He’d been stunned by her appearance at the church, where she had looked more glamorous than he’d ever seen her. He was glad that Danny had stood between them – he didn’t know how he’d have managed to actually be next to this new, elegant version of Kitty, her beautifully tailored red jacket emphasising her slim waist and trim curves. He had almost stumbled, something he hadn’t done for a very long while.

Then he’d suffered a very strange mix of emotions at the sight of Sylvia and Kitty together, talking in the kitchen earlier. He wasn’t a fool – of course he had known they bore some physical resemblance to each other, but seeing them facing one another brought out their similarities very clearly – and also their differences. Kitty now had an air of sophistication that was totally new. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised; she’d been away for years, sent to a variety of postings, becoming expert in her profession and learning social graces she could scarcely have come across in Empire Street. Then of course she’d had that doctor boyfriend, who must have brought her into contact with an entirely new set of people. He himself was now an officer, and he was well used to working and dealing with those who blithely assumed they belonged to the officer class by birth – and yet he had the feeling Kitty was now somehow far above him.

He gave a small shake of his head. He had to put all these feelings to one side. He could see how his family welcomed Sylvia into their midst, and he was grateful she was so friendly and open with them. He should count his blessings, be pleased with what he had rather than wonder about what he didn’t. After all, the likelihood was that he might well bump into Kitty in a professional capacity now, and he couldn’t allow her presence, or even the thought of her presence, to distract him from his vital work. Lives depended on it.

‘Penny for ’em, Frank!’ Jack came across, in his Fleet Air Arm uniform, and slapped him on the back, almost making him spill the last of his rum. ‘How about a top-up?’ He brandished a nearly full bottle. Frank looked up, and caught sight of Kitty leaning against the opposite wall. She was looking at him too and their eyes briefly met, Kitty turning away quickly with a tight smile. It was only wishful thinking that made him wonder if it was a blush he’d seen creep across her cheeks … Damn it! Frank cursed himself as he watched her turn away and speak to someone else. He’d have to shake off these stupid thoughts.

‘Go on then.’ Frank held out his glass and was pleased to see his hand was totally steady – unlike the beating of his heart.

‘There, isn’t she lovely?’ It was Sarah’s turn to hold little Ellen and she was every inch the proud godmother. ‘She’s been so good. Look, this is your godfather. Better make a point of behaving when he’s around and you’ll never be short of pocket money, though we won’t tell your mammy.’ She held the baby close to Danny’s face, and he smiled but pulled away a fraction.

‘Don’t you go making her cry, now,’ he warned. ‘Just because she hasn’t started wailing the place down so far, doesn’t mean she isn’t going to any minute. I’m not having Rita blaming me for that.’

‘What nonsense you talk, Danny Callaghan,’ Sarah scolded him, and Danny reflected that between her and Kitty, he couldn’t do a thing right today.

‘See, here’s your Auntie Nancy come to say hello,’ he said to the sleeping child, and made a hasty escape over to where Eddy and Frank were making inroads into the rum bottle.

Nancy smiled sweetly, even though she was still a bit put out at having been passed over as a godmother in favour of her younger sister. But there was no point in taking it out on the child – it was hardly her fault. ‘She’s cute as a button and no mistake,’ she said. ‘Look at her little fingernails. There, when you’re grown up I’ll teach you how to paint them. That’s if you don’t turn out like your mammy and godmother, working too hard in jobs that don’t let you dress up.’

‘Nancy!’ Sarah objected, stung.

‘Oh, no offence,’ said Nancy lightly. ‘Lovely food, Sarah – did you help out with it?’

‘Of course,’ said Sarah. ‘You were too busy, I suppose.’

‘Well, Georgie won’t mind himself,’ said Nancy, leaving her younger sister to infer that she had been busy with childcare last night, when in fact Georgie had been round at the Parkers’ house again. Nancy had had her first proper date with Gary Trenton, and all she really wanted to do today was find a quiet corner and think about it. She shivered at the memory of him, his wonderful strong, lean hands holding hers across the table as they’d sat in a quiet pub miles from Bootle, where nobody would recognise her. He’d been such a gentleman, not trying anything on, but asking her all manner of questions about what she thought and what she was interested in.

She couldn’t remember when anyone had thought to ask her things like that. She could feel her sense of self-worth growing. With him she wasn’t the troublesome middle child whose siblings were all contributing to the war effort in far more demanding ways than helping out in a canteen; she wasn’t the bad mother that old Mrs Kerrigan painted her as; she wasn’t Gloria Arden’s less pretty sidekick. Gary made her feel as if she was a fascinating and attractive young woman, and she loved it.