Dreaming Out Loud (24 page)

The sisters said goodbye and Kay hoped and prayed that Julie was right, and that her errant husband would change his ways and become the kind of husband that Julie deserved.

Kay sat very still and tried to compose herself before phoning her mother. She dialled the number very reluctantly and found herself hoping that her mother was out. She wasn’t. Kay was expecting a hostile answer, and was surprised when her mother said, ‘Hello, Kay, pet.’

‘Mum . . .’

‘I know why you’re phoning and I’m not angry.’

‘I wanted to apologise for not telling you.’

‘It’s me that should apologise for making you feel that I wouldn’t care. That was it, wasn’t it? I haven’t replied to your letters, and if you phoned I was abrupt, to say the least.’

‘Yes, but I still should have phoned you.’

‘Well, don’t worry, Kay. I do care and I’m thrilled for you. As for the way I’ve behaved, I hope you’ll understand one day, but at the moment I don’t want to talk about it. Do you mind?’

Kay, who very much wanted to talk about her mother’s behaviour, nevertheless said, ‘No, that’s all right.’

Then both of them found they had nothing more to say apart from, ‘Take care’ and ‘Goodnight’.

Kay sat staring into space for a while and Shirley came into the hall. ‘Have you finished?’ she asked. Kay was surprised at how hostile she sounded.

‘Yes. Sorry. Did you want to make a call?’

‘No, I’m expecting one.’

Kay rose and turned towards the door. Shirley’s face was drawn and her fists clenched. ‘Why don’t we have a cup of tea?’ Kay asked.

‘Oh yes, a cup of tea solves everything, doesn’t it?’

‘Shirley? What’s wrong?’

Shirley clenched her hands more tightly, then let her breath out with a long sigh.

Thinking her friend to be more relaxed, Kay smiled and said, ‘Right, who’s going to put the kettle on?’

‘I will.’

Kay thought Shirley had never looked so dejected. She followed her into the kitchen, where Jane was sitting by the fire reading a magazine article about fashion. She looked up and raised her eyebrows at the sight of Shirley’s miserable expression. ‘What’s up?’ she asked. ‘Hasn’t he called yet?’

Shirley bristled. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Well, the way you’ve been popping in and out of the hall and jumping up nervously every time the phone rang, I assumed you were waiting for a call, and that the caller would almost certainly be a man.’

‘You have no right to assume anything,’ Shirley said, ‘particularly not about phone calls!’

‘What are you talking about?’ Jane looked nervous.

‘I’m talking about the way you sneak away from the phone and try and pretend you haven’t been making a call every time anyone comes in.’

Jane stood up and her magazine dropped unheeded to the floor. ‘That’s not true!’

‘Isn’t it?’

The two girls glared at each other.

‘Stop this at once!’ Kay said. But they continued to stare at each other. ‘If you continue to behave like this I’ll give you both notice to leave. I can’t have you behaving like sulky children and causing such an unhappy atmosphere.’

Jane gave way first. ‘I’m sorry, Kay.’ She picked up her magazine and tossed it on the chair before making an effort to smile. ‘Did I hear a cup of tea mentioned before? I’ll make it, shall I? Why don’t you two sit down?’

Shirley glanced at her watch and looked more miserable than ever. ‘Count me out,’ she said. ‘I’m going for a walk.’

She left the room, and a moment later they heard the front door slam.

Summoned by the doorbell, Moira hurried down both flights of stairs. When she opened the door she was surprised to see Shirley.

‘I’m sorry to call so late,’ her surprise visitor said.

Moira glanced at her watch. ‘It’s only eight o’clock. That’s not late.’

‘Yes, but to bring you all the way downstairs . . .’

‘Good for the figure. Now, come in and let’s go up to the flat. Now that I have someone to share it with, I’ll open a bottle of wine.’

When they were settled with a glass of wine and a plateful of salmon and cucumber sandwiches, Moira asked, ‘Man trouble?’

Shirley’s eyes were wide with surprise. ‘Why do you assume that?’

‘Mainly because you look so glum, but also because I can’t think of another reason why you would drop by unexpectedly.’

‘It could be about Kay.’

‘I suppose it could, but I spoke to her earlier today and she didn’t mention any problems, except that she was undecided about what to wear on Monday night.’

‘What’s happening on Monday night?’

‘My goodness, whoever he is he
has
got you in a state. Monday night is the premiere of Kay’s film.’

Shirley looked guilty. ‘Oh my God, the premiere! I forgot all about it!’

‘You’ll still be coming with the rest of us, won’t you?’

‘Yes, of course. Even if he’s changed his mind.’ Shirley took a sip of wine and then choked back a sob.

‘“He” being your boss, Julian Fry?’

‘Yes.’

‘And I take it from the way you’re behaving tonight that he’s actually more than your boss?’

‘That’s right . . . well, he is to me. I’m not sure what I am to him.’

Moira smiled sympathetically. ‘I think I know what you mean. You’ve very unwisely fallen in love with your boss, and you don’t know whether he’s in love with you?’

‘I thought he was, but now I just don’t know. Maybe I’ve been kidding myself.’

‘Are you lovers?’

Shirley blushed furiously. ‘No, we’re not. But . . .’

‘But you want to be?’

Shirley nodded speechlessly.

‘Has he been stringing you along?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Leading you to believe that you mean more to him than just his secretary?’

Shirley dropped her head and covered her face with her hands. She groaned. ‘I thought I was – more to him, I mean – but now I can’t think why. I can’t think of anything specific. He never actually said anything. Do you know what I mean?’

‘I’m afraid I do.’ Moira sighed. ‘I fell in love with my boss, and I thought he loved me. Is that why you came here tonight? Because you needed advice from someone who was just as foolish?’

Shirley raised her head and wiped away a tear with her fingers. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

Moira’s smile was kind. ‘If you want to have a friendly chat, I’m ready to listen. But first of all let’s have another glass of wine.’

They sat in companionable silence while they sipped their wine.
She’ll talk when she’s ready
, Moira thought.

Shirley’s first words surprised her. ‘I thought I was the sensible one.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The sensible member of the household. Jane sneaks about the house as though she’s hiding something and only goes out to buy jewellery, or more clothes. And Kay, for all her cool confidence, has allowed herself to fall in love with Tom, even though he shows no sign of being serious about her.’

‘Yes, that’s strange, isn’t it?’ Moira said. ‘They are obviously more than fond of each other, but I get the sense that, for some reason, Tom is unwilling to commit himself.’

Shirley shook her head and stared miserably ahead.

Moira sensed that she wanted to get back to discussing her own problem but didn’t know how to start.

‘You were saying that you thought you were the serious one,’ Moira prompted.

‘No – the sensible one. I guess I thought I was a little bit superior to the other two. I could watch what was happening to them and make judgements and think myself above that sort of thing.’

‘By “that sort of thing” you mean falling in love?’

‘Mmm.’ Shirley nodded. ‘When my boyfriend dumped me I can honestly say I wasn’t heartbroken. I applied for a job at the BBC, and when I was accepted I left home and never gave another thought to him. I thought I was made of sterner stuff than Kay and Jane. Of course, I felt sorry for Jane. According to her, the man she loved was a violent bully and yet she still loved him. If we can believe that.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because over the months she’s told us different versions of her past – just little things, but enough to make me wonder.’

‘And what about Kay?’

‘Oh yes. No matter how nice Tom is, I would have given him his marching orders rather than be strung along like that.’

‘You think that’s what he’s doing? Stringing her along for some reason?’

‘Don’t you?’

‘I don’t know. I admit I’m puzzled. But now what about you and your problem?’

Shirley sighed. ‘Julian.’

Moira waited for her to continue.

‘From the moment I first met him,’ Shirley said, ‘I admired him enormously. I hung on his every word. It took me a while, but eventually I realised I was in love with him.’

‘And what were his feelings for you?’

Shirley stared at Moira miserably. ‘I thought he had fallen in love with me, but now I’m not so sure.’

‘What made you think he’d fallen for you?’

‘A woman usually knows when a man’s interested, doesn’t she? I mean, interested in
that
way?’

‘Unless she’s very innocent.’

‘Well, I’m not exactly worldly-wise, but sometimes the way he looked at me sent shivers down my spine.’

‘Did he say anything?’

Shirley shook her head. ‘Not exactly. But he liked being with me, I’m sure about that. After a show, when we all went for a drink in the club, he would sit beside me, and often we would be the last two there. Then he started taking me for a meal now and then – and I don’t mean in the BBC canteen!’

‘So what has changed?’

‘He doesn’t make a point of sitting with me any more and we haven’t been out for a meal for weeks – well, a couple of weeks. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this. Sometimes I think he goes out of his way to avoid me. Today I plucked up courage and said that I wanted to talk to him.’

‘And?’

‘He looked positively shifty! He said he had to go because he had some shopping to do for dinner tonight, but he would try and phone me before serving up.’

‘I’m assuming you’re here because he didn’t phone.’

‘Yes . . . well, no. I mean, Kay was on the phone for ages, so he might have tried to get through and found the phone engaged.’

‘If that’s the case he’ll tell you so tomorrow.’

‘I know. At least I think he will. It’s just not knowing that makes me so wretched.’

Moira picked up the bottle of wine and looked questioningly at Shirley, who shook her head. She topped up her own glass. ‘I can understand that, and I know how wretched you must feel. But Shirley, there’s a question I must ask you.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Is Julian married?’

Shirley looked visibly shaken.

‘Well?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘The possibility never crossed your mind?’

‘Please don’t scold.’

‘I’m not scolding, dear, I’m just amazed that a girl who is as intelligent as you are has got involved with an older man who might very well have a wife, and maybe even children.’

Shirley began to cry in earnest, and Moira put down her glass and put an arm around her. ‘I’ve been there myself,’ she said, ‘And in my case the man in question was indeed married with children, but by the time I found out I was hopelessly in love – and I still am. So no happy wedding day and no children for me. For God’s sake, Shirley, don’t let that happen to you. So, you say he hasn’t made love to you?’

‘No. And now I don’t even know if he wants to.’

‘Good. Count that as a blessing. Harden your heart. And you can come and talk to me any time you feel yourself weakening. Would you like to stay here tonight?’

‘No. Thank you for letting me talk like this, but I’d better go. I left the house in a bit of a temper. I should put things right with Kay.’

The night air was damp and the streets looked dreary. Shirley hurried home, not just to apologise to Kay and Jane, but also in the hopes of finding that Julian had phoned after all.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The large, sleek car drew up outside the cinema and the crowd seemed to hold its breath. It was a cold evening, and Moira drew her fox-fur coat more tightly round her as, along with everyone else, she waited for the car doors to be opened. The coat had been a present from Charles many years ago, and the ‘swing’ style was no longer truly fashionable, but wearing it gave her a sense of occasion.

She must be the best-dressed woman in the crowd, she thought. She had a ticket for the event but she had chosen to be out here, along with a small bunch of friends, in order to soak up the atmosphere so she could tell Kay about it later. The crowd had gathered to watch the cast of the film arriving and then stayed on to see the most important guest of the evening.

Jane hadn’t waited long. Moira had noticed how she blinked and turned her head away every time a camera flashed. Saying she had a headache, she had gone into the cinema to find the place allotted to her. For a moment it looked as though Tom would follow her, but he changed his mind and started talking to Shirley, who looked as miserable as sin because Julian hadn’t turned up.

When Kay arrived, escorted by her agent, some people in the crowd looked puzzled. They didn’t know who she was but they cheered anyway, because that was the thing to do. Valentine Dyall, although not the star, got a loyal cheer, almost as big as the cheer reserved for the two stars of the film, Yvette Todd and Michael Grainger.

But now, as the rear passenger door was opened by a smartly dressed man, there was a glimpse of cream satin and a flash of diamonds, and the crowd went berserk as Princess Margaret stepped out into the cold damp night and illuminated the air around her with the most dazzling smile. The bodice of her dress was encrusted with diamonds and an ermine stole was draped round her shoulders. For a moment the sight of such extravagant beauty lifted all who saw her out of the years of hardship and austerity, into a time of promise and luxury and hope.

After the Princess had entered the cinema, Tom escorted Moira and Shirley to the side door reserved for the less important guests, and they were in time to settle themselves before the orchestra played the national anthem and the film began.

Tom had booked a table at Stefano’s and he escorted Moira, Shirley and Jane there when the show ended. Jane didn’t look as though she was enjoying herself, and Shirley seemed like she had forgotten how to smile – until she entered the restaurant and saw Julian sitting waiting for them in the bar area.

Moira nudged Shirley and whispered, ‘Act normally. Don’t ask him why he missed the show and don’t let him know you’re upset.’

‘I am not upset!’ Shirley’s reply, though whispered, was savage.

Moira smiled. ‘Well, that’s all right then.’

Shirley pulled herself together in order to introduce Moira and Jane to Julian before a tall, striking-looking woman took their coats. She showed them to a table which had a reserved card propped up against a vase of flowers. Tom ordered a bottle of wine and told them to help themselves, because he was going to collect Kay.

‘Are you going to tear her away from the Ritz?’ Julian asked.

‘I assure you she’ll come willingly.’

‘But this is a chance for her to mingle with important people.’

‘That’s what I told her, but she said she would rather be with her friends. So, Julian, if you don’t mind, would you look after Moira, Jane and Shirley? Please drink up the wine and tell the waitress that we’ll order as soon as another guest arrives.’

Julian poured the wine and passed the glasses around. ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ he said.

‘What for?’ Shirley asked sharply, and Moira gave her a warning glance.

‘I’m sorry to have missed the premiere.’

‘So why did you?’ Shirley asked, and felt Moira kick her under the table. ‘Ouch!’ she said involuntarily, and Julian gave a puzzled frown.

When nobody said anything he went on, ‘I was just about to leave the house when David turned up.’

‘David?’ Shirley asked, and turned and glared at Moira as if to say,
I don’t care
.

‘My son. He’s come home on leave. He’s doing his National Service in Korea. I couldn’t walk out the moment he arrived, could I?’

There was a shocked silence until Moira said, ‘Of course you couldn’t.’

‘Anyway,’ Julian continued, ‘all David wanted to do was sleep, so I told him what the situation was and he insisted I should go. Now you’ll have to tell me all about it – the film, I mean. Do you think Kay pulled it off?’

‘She was superb,’ Moira told him. ‘I’m not sure if the leading lady will be altogether pleased.’

‘No, it’s always difficult for ageing actresses to see new talent coming up.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Yvette Todd is not exactly ageing! She can’t be forty yet and she’s radiantly beautiful.’

‘I know. I’m generalising,’ Julian said. ‘Miss Todd has nothing to fear – yet. But the film industry can be cruel. As soon as an actress, no matter how talented, shows the tiniest signs of ageing, she could be passed over for the romantic lead and offered “character” parts. Or, God help us, the part of the heroine’s mother.’

Suddenly Moira went silent. She was remembering something that had happened years ago. Something she had promised never to divulge.

Tom took a taxi to the Ritz and told the driver to wait. As soon as he entered, a uniformed doorman approached and asked if he could help.

‘Could you find Miss Lockwood – she’s with the film party – and tell her that Tom Masters is waiting?’

A short while later, Kay came hurrying towards him and he caught his breath. In a sleeveless crimson evening gown, with what he guessed was a mink stole tossed over her shoulders and her dark hair swept up on to the crown of her head, she was stunningly beautiful. Her limp was hardly noticeable, but at the last moment she stumbled and he caught her in his arms. She looked up at him and laughed. ‘I did that on purpose,’ she said.

Unable to control his instincts, he drew her closer and kissed her more passionately than he had ever done before. It was Kay who drew away. ‘Tom,’ she whispered shakily.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

Kay’s vulnerable expression turned to one of fury. ‘Why are you sorry? You must know what my feelings are, and unless I’m terribly mistaken, I believe you feel the same way. So for God’s sake why are you sorry?’

‘I can’t tell you why.’

‘Can’t or won’t?’

They stared at each other, Kay furious, Tom in utter misery. Eventually Kay sighed and looked resigned. ‘Let’s go and join my friends.’

‘The taxi’s waiting.’

Julian couldn’t understand why the little gathering was so subdued. Kay deserved better than this. Tom looked strained, Moira distracted; Jane was a bundle of nerves, and Shirley seemed positively icy. Well, at least he thought he knew the reason for that, and it was entirely his fault.

From the moment he’d met her he had thought her delightful – young, attractive and totally life-enhancing. What a foolish old man he’d been not to realise sooner that he was falling in love with her, when he had no right to. Thank the Lord nothing had been said. He knew he’d done the right thing by drawing back and avoiding being alone with her, but he was acutely aware of her misery.

Thank goodness David had arrived home a couple of days early. Julian had been dreading sitting next to Shirley in the intimate darkness of the cinema. Once there, she would have thought it strange if he had put distance between them. But there was no way he would have missed the celebration at Stefano’s. That would have been hurtful to Kay, the girl he liked to tell people that he had discovered.

To ease the boredom of his months of enforced captivity, Maurice had persuaded Kostas to send one of his henchmen along with newspapers and the occasional magazine, so he had been able to follow the case. There had been so little in the papers of late, so that Maurice was beginning to think the police had given up. This had cheered him up enormously, and he was even happier when Kostas had told him a couple of days ago that he thought he had found a buyer for the jewellery. And the price Kostas had quoted, even when he had taken his commission, was enough to set Maurice and Jane up for life in some foreign clime.

This morning he made himself a cup of coffee, put it on the table and flipped through the paper fairly casually. Then something caught his eye and he stopped and swore. Apparently a film premiere had taken place the night before, and there were a couple of photographs that took up nearly the whole page. One was of Princess Margaret being greeted by some bloke who must have been the cinema manager, and another showed the film stars Yvette Todd and Michael Grainger walking towards the cinema and half turning to wave to the crowd.

It wasn’t Yvette Todd who had caught Maurice’s attention, lovely as she was. It was a face in the crowd. A face Maurice knew only too well: Jane.
The silly cow!
Maurice thought.
What the hell is she doing going to the West End and showing herself off so publicly?
It would just take someone from the village where she had been working to recognise her and the game would be up. He couldn’t tell Kostas about this. He knew very well that Kostas would not hesitate to have Jane ‘taken care o
f
’.

Maurice wondered what he should do. Should he take the money and scarper without her? He’d already considered that option and decided it was too dangerous to leave her behind. If he abandoned her she would talk – turn King’s evidence to save her skin. No, he was stuck with her. She managed to phone him every day – sometimes twice. As soon as he had the money he would give her directions and they would clear off, away from London. Using the false passports Kostas had arranged for them, they could put this country far behind them. That day couldn’t come soon enough.

Dora loved the Royal family. She kept a scrapbook of photographs of them, and today she reached for the scissors and the Gloy as soon as she saw the picture of Princess Margaret at the film premiere. It was only when the photograph was pasted into the scrapbook and the occasion and the date was written next to it that she turned her attention to the other photograph. She wasn’t really interested in film stars, but she examined Yvette Todd’s evening gown and hairstyle before glancing casually at the crowd of fans.

‘The bastard!’ she said out loud. ‘He’s got no time to come home but he can go out at night with some woman or other!’

Dora examined the women closest to Tom and couldn’t decide which one was his fancy piece. For fancy piece there must be. She was sure of that. Dora felt her anger rising. If she confronted Tom about this, he would only say that it was something to do with his work, and he might get so fed up with her that he would never come home again. Ricky had warned her about that. Dora dropped her head into her hands and began to weep. She was sobbing so loudly that she didn’t hear the key in the lock and the front door open.

When Tom walked into the room, he saw the newspaper spread open on the table and his heart sank. This was what he had been afraid of. This was why he had come, even though he should have been on duty and he’d had to get someone else to take over watching Jane.

‘Dora, love,’ he said, and she lifted her head to reveal tear-streaked cheeks.

‘I haven’t got long,’ Tom said. ‘Why don’t I go and get us a couple of hot pies from the baker’s? We’ll have lunch together.’

‘All right. That would be nice,’ she said dully.

‘Set the table then.’ Tom smiled at her, but he was already wondering how soon he could get away.

Thelma sat with the newspaper on her knee. She had just got back from the newsagent’s and she wanted to warm up a little before looking through the paper. That was what she told herself, but in reality she was delaying the pleasure of reading about Kay. Julie had phoned her just after breakfast to tell her that Kay had been mentioned in a review in the
Express
. She had thanked her younger daughter but had given no hint that she would go out and buy a copy.

She gazed into the fire and remembered how Jack used to sneak off to the theatre, no matter what the weather, to read the newspapers if there was anything in them about Lana. Thelma suspected that he wrote letters to Lana, too, and that Lana was writing to him and having the letters delivered to the theatre. He always told her that he had some work to do, such as working out new dance routines, and as she never objected, he must have assumed that she believed him. During the winter break he could very well have been putting next year’s programme together, but as far as Thelma could see, there was no reason to go and sit in the damp, draughty theatre instead of by a warm fire in their comfortable home.

She never confronted him about this. She was too frightened to do so. If she did, she would have to admit to herself that she knew he still loved Lana, and she did not want to hear Jack tell any more lies.

There came a time when he returned home with his breath smelling of alcohol. He never appeared to be drunk, so Thelma guessed he was taking just sufficient to stave off the cold. This made her want to cry.

Every time Lana came to visit, acting like Lady Bountiful with the latest and most expensive toys for the children, Thelma saw the way Jack looked at the mother of his first child and how he was subdued and despondent on the day she breezed off again. And, of course, Thelma never believed that Jack’s occasional trips to London were anything to do with theatre business. Paradoxically she didn’t blame Jack. All the blame fell on Lana. Like many women in Thelma’s position, she came to see the other woman as the temptress who was intent on taking away everything that made her happy.

In later years Thelma came to blame herself for Jack’s death. If she had confronted him, if she had told him that she knew his solitary trips to the theatre were a charade and said, ‘For God’s sake, read your newspapers and write your letters in the comfort of your own home,’ he might never have caught flu and succumbed so quickly to pneumonia. When he first became ill he had assured her that it was just a bad cough.

Why hadn’t she tried harder to stop him leaving the house on that fatal day? He’d laughed as he took his scarf from the hallstand, wound it round his neck and said, ‘Don’t worry, Thelma, I’m not a kid,’ before being overtaken by a wracking cough. He left the house, not realising that Thelma knew very well he was going to the news-stand in the station. She looked out of the front parlour window and saw his tall figure leaning into the sleet as he walked up the road and away from her. He was never to come home again.