Living a Lie (12 page)

The journey was slow.

“Monday morning traffic is a nightmare,” Patricia moaned.

“Still, we’ll soon have you home and safe. I’ve planned a special family dinner for tonight… Adam is so excited at having a sister… we didn’t want to foster a baby, we’re too old for that now… we wanted someone your age… a young woman in the making… someone we could talk to sensibly… someone we could mould and influence, if you know what I mean?”

She went on and on, until her husband told her to be quiet because he couldn’t concentrate on the road. She

sulked a little, but the peace was soothing and Kitty gave silent thanks. Still, she liked them a lot, and that was a good start.

Kitty sat in the corner of the big car, anxious about her destination.

With thoughts of Georgie and Harry flooding her mind, she turned her gaze out of the window and watched the changing countryside. As they drove through the pretty village of Ridgmont, with its lovely old church, she could see herself walking down the aisle of that ancient place, dressed in a long white dress and carrying a bouquet of small white roses and blue lavender.

In the past, whenever she’d entertained girlish dreams of being a bride, Kitty had always seen it that way. Every detail was etched on her soul: the church with its beautiful stained-glass window above the altar, the bouquet, the fairytale wedding gown with its sweetheart neckline and trailing veil. Every little detail, as though she had seen it in real life, as though she was cradling a premonition. One day, it said, this will all come true. It was hard to believe that now.

When she first dared to dream, she did not know the identity of the young man waiting at the altar; sometimes she would tell her friend Harry about it, and he would merely smile and say, “Whoever he is, he’s a very lucky bloke.” And Kitty would wonder about the young man.

Who was he? Where and when would they meet? Now she knew} In her latest dreams, the young man had turned to her as she approached and his face was loving and familiar. It was Harry, tall and handsome, his

dark eyes smiling at her, and she wondered why she had not seen it right from the start. Only now none of it mattered, because Harry was gone. She had no wish to be married to anyone else.

This was why she was afraid for the future, afraid of being alone, afraid of being old some day, and having no one to love. It was a desperate prospect and one she pushed from her mind.

On the way out of the village stood the most delightful cottage, a long rambling place with leaded light windows and a low wall fronting the road. Kitty smiled, her heart filled with memories of Harry. She couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be for them to be together in such a darling place.

“Stop torturing yourself,” she murmured, and quickly concentrated her mind on other matters. Her thoughts turned to Adam Connor. He was a strange young man. Suddenly she felt apprehensive in a different way. She still couldn’t quite decide what it was about him that made her cringe inside, but there was something. Something quietly unsettling.

As they came down the hill into Ampthill, the sun was beginning to shine and the world didn’t look quite so grey. At the bottom the car turned left, through a narrow street and out into the open road.

“Home at last,” Patricia Connor said, half turning with a smile.

“A cup of tea and a little chat, then we’re off to Bedford.”

Mr. Connor gave her a curious glance.

“You might give Kitty a chance to settle in first!”

“Don’t be silly, Raymond. I’m sure she would rather go round the shops and choose her new clothes. She certainly can’t be comfortable with the awful things she’s wearing.” Twisting in her seat she regarded Kitty with narrowed eyes, scrutinising the straight dark skirt, blue V-necked jumper and long mackintosh.

“That’s right, isn’t it, dear?

You’re not at all happy with those shabby clothes? You want to choose your new wardrobe as soon as possible, I should think? “

Kitty felt uncomfortable, like piggy in the middle. Hoping it wasn’t a taste of things to come, she answered, “Whatever you think best.”

That seemed to satisfy the woman for she turned and said to her husband, “There! What did I tell you? Anyway, there’s no need for you to come with us. You can go back to the office if you like … sell some more houses to pay for Kitty’s clothes.” He made no reply to that, but gave her a long look. It was enough to silence her, at least until they got inside the house.

It was huge, a rambling white building with panoramic windows, beautifully manicured lawns and a long winding drive leading to the double garage. The inside was immaculate; almost like a show house on one of Mr. Connor’s new estates. The lounge fronted the entire length of the house, but furnished with cream leather furniture and pale plush carpets, it seemed cold and unwelcoming, not a place for living in, more a place for entertaining. Kitty thought.

The whole house was decorated to the same theme, with deep pile carpets, long floral curtains with tasselled tiebacks and swags draped above. There were three bathrooms, five bedrooms, and a beautiful galleried landing that could have been mistaken for an airport runway.

“I do like plenty of space,” Patricia cooed as she showed Kitty to her room.

This turned out to be a suite; an impossibly spacious bedroom with

fitted wardrobes across one wall, a huge four poster standing in pride of place in the centre of the room, whitewood dressing-table and wardrobe, each exquisitely inlaid with golden scrolls. There was a huge vase filled with early roses standing on a small table by the window, and another on the dressing-table. The bathroom was all chrome and glass, and the sitting room was like being in a fish bowl, with its huge windows and trailing plants.

“This is your own private room,” Patricia said grandly, ‘where you can bring your friends. ” She looked at Kitty, and her face was one big smile.

“Do you like it?”

“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.” In truth, Kitty hated it.

Delighted, Patricia twirled on the spot, both skinny arms stretched wide as she encompassed the rooms in one extravagant gesture.

“It’s all new,” she sighed.

“Carpets, curtains, everything. I even had it redecorated right through, though of course we had the entire house decorated only last year.” Chuckling, she confided, “Extravagant, I suppose, especially when this room has never really been used by anyone.” She sighed noisily.

“Raymond and I had a little argument about it, but I won in the end. I always do.”

“I’m sure it would have been fine the way it was.” The knowledge that she had already caused at least two arguments between man and wife made Kitty even more uncomfortable.

“Nonsense! The room was all wrong. Like I said, I wanted it to be a suitable place for you to bring your friends back to.”

“It’s very generous. Thank you,” Kitty replied, while wondering, Why do I want all this space? And what friends is she talking about?

“Can I bring Georgie here?” she dared to ask.

Patricia’s smile fell away.

“I don’t think so,” she answered sweetly.

“I believe that young woman is a very bad influence on you.”

“Then I won’t be bringing anyone here.”

“Oh dear! I do hope you aren’t going to be difficult.”

Kitty hadn’t wanted to appear difficult, though she had no intention of giving up on Georgie. Maybe it was Mr. Connor she should be talking to.

“I don’t want to seem difficult, Mrs. Connor,” she apologised.

“I’m sorry if I gave that impression.” All the same, one way or another she meant to keep up her relationship with Georgie, and to hell with the consequences!

The little woman drew in a long slow breath and let it out in a weary sigh.

“Please! Don’t call me Mrs. Connor,” she pleaded.

“From now on, I’ll be your mother. Can’t you call me that? Can’t you bring yourself to call me Mother? It would give me so much pleasure.”

Kitty thought she was asking too much and told her so.

“I will only ever have one mother, and she’s gone,” she said in a flat voice.

“But, if you like, I could call you Patricia?”

“How disappointing.” She gave her best ‘little girl’ smile.

“You will be able to call me Mother later on though, won’t you?”

“I can’t promise.”

Patricia pretended not to hear. Striding to the wardrobes, she threw open the doors.

“We’re going to try and fill these today,” she said.

“You’re so very pretty, and I want you to look lovely and have nice things. I want people to come here and say, ” Oh, Patricia, isn’t she beautiful! ” She smiled secretly.

“Every woman likes to have an attractive daughter. It kind of makes her feel attractive too, don’t you think?”

Kitty couldn’t think what to think, except that she was already beginning to regret coming here to live. But she kept that to herself.

Half an hour later, Raymond Connor returned to his estate agent’s office, while his wife drove her own little car into Bedford.

“We’ll do some shopping, then have lunch in Beale’s.” Patricia gabbled all the way into Bedford.

“Then we’ll explore Debenham’s and after that seek out the very best shoe shops.” She chattered so much she went through two sets of red lights and almost ran into an old woman standing on the corner of the market square.

“People will get in the way,” she complained, patting her short fair hair in the mirror.

“It really is irritating.”

Bedford town was teeming with people. It took half an hour and three heated arguments to park the car in a side street. It didn’t seem to matter to Patricia that there was a huge sign saying RESIDENTS’ PARKING ONLY or that she ran over a child’s football and sent him indoors sobbing his heart out. Nor did it ruffle her feathers when the child’s irate mother threatened to call the police.

“Don’t be so bloody stupid!” Patricia retorted.

With that she marched down the street, doing battle with half the residents and with her reluctant protegee in hot pursuit. Kitty remained shamed and red-faced until they arrived at the first shop, after which she was ushered in and out of changing rooms so fast she was too dizzy to think straight.

Dissatisfied with everything Kitty tried on, Patricia led the way down Midland Road and on to the High Street.

“We’ll do this in an organised manner,” she announced.

“Start at the top of the High Street and work back. Beale’s

is situated halfway so we’ll be ready for lunch by the time we get there. ” When Kitty explained she had really liked a certain cheesecloth dress, Patricia was horrified.

“Makes you look like a hippy!” she said. She couldn’t know how, in that moment, Kitty would have given anything to join a commune and tramp the roads.

Kitty had never been so exhausted. Whisked in and out of every shop in every street, her feet ached and her head was pounding. By the time they got back to Beale’s, the two of them were loaded down with shopping bags, every loathsome item chosen by Patricia.

“I don’t need all this,” Kitty protested.

“Besides, it’s costing you a small fortune.”

“Not me, dear,” Patricia argued.

“It’s costing Raymond a small fortune.” Falling into a nearby chair, she dumped the shopping bags on the floor and her handbag on the table. Scanning the counter with hungry eyes, she told Kitty, “I’ll have a pot of tea… not too strong… and a light salad, with perhaps a piece of that delightful-looking bacon flan.” She groaned and stretched out her legs beneath the table.

“It’s good to sit down,” she said. When Kitty didn’t move quickly enough, she urged, “Hurry up, dear. Put your bags down. Go and get what I’ve ordered, and have whatever you want for yourself. Quickly now! There’ll be a queue a mile long any minute.”

She tutted the whole time Kitty was arranging the bags, and moaned when two elderly women got to the counter first.

“Don’t forget,” she called out impatiently, ‘tea not too strong. ” When other diners glanced up, she gave them one of her frosty looks.

Loaded down with a heavy tray, Kitty put Patricia’s food before her,

then settled down to enjoy her doughnut and coffee. With every sip and every bite she was treated to a barrage of advice about how too much coffee was bad for your health, and how doughnuts were full of harmful sugar, and how Patricia would have to teach her healthy eating. She talked of shops they had visited and remarked on the clothes they had bought, and Kitty sipped her coffee and ate her doughnut, and shut her ears to the shrill monologue that had other diners leaving in droves.

“I know I talk too much,” Patricia apologised, ‘but you can’t know how excited I am at having you with me. And when I get excited, my tongue has a habit of running away with me. “

“No need to apologise for that.” Kitty felt a pang of conscience, though she couldn’t help thinking it might be a blessed relief if Patricia’s tongue really would run away with her.

It was almost six o’clock by the time the car nosed its way up the drive.

“Home at last!” Patricia said, and Kitty sighed with relief.

As the shopping was unloaded, Patricia checked every bag. While she went ahead, Kitty was left to carry most of the enormous number of bags and bits.

“Hurry up, dear!” Patricia called, leaving her to stagger beneath the burden.

“There’ll be two hungry men home soon.”

She was right about one thing. At precisely six-thirty, Raymond came through the door with a smile on his face, and it was still there after Patricia explained, “You’ll have to wait for your meal. We didn’t get back until late, so it will be at least another hour before the dinner’s on the table.” Exasperated, she glanced at the clock.

“I

don’t know where the time’s gone. I hate it when I’m late with dinner,

and I’ve planned a special one tonight, just for Kitty. ” She gave her a half-smile.

“That’s why I wanted the plumpest, freshest chicken the butcher could find.” She chuckled.

“You remember how annoyed he got when I kept sending him backwards and forwards until he found one I could accept?”