Home is Where the Heart Is. Freda Lightfoot. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Freda Lightfoot
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: MIRA
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474038102
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      Blinking away the nightmare flash of memory, she offered a cautionary smile. ‘Now that the war is over we can at last look forward to a bright future.’

      ‘Whatever that might be,’ Alex growled. ‘And so long as it doesn’t take too much effort to achieve.’

      He sounded somewhat dismissive and scathing, not at all the calm, well-mannered young man he used to be. Perhaps the war had badly affected him, after all. Perhaps physically he was reasonably well, but not mentally. Returning to Civvy Street and the shambles all around them couldn’t be easy, as Steve had tried to explain to her.

      Cathie was filled with sympathy for his anguish. She too had grown increasingly devastated by the losses all around her, of bomb craters and fires leaping up everywhere, shops she’d once loved reduced to ashes, friends fleeing to the country to escape the city, and wounded men walking the streets. Anything even vaguely disturbing upset her greatly. Speaking of these experiences was quite beyond her, although she prayed that one day she might find the courage to share her pain with Alex. And he might share his with her. That way, they might both begin to recover.

      Feeling a reluctance to make life even more difficult for him right now, since he’d been home for such a short time and this was their first evening out together, Cathie decided this was certainly not the moment to mention baby Heather.

      ‘So you’re this Alexander Ryman I’ve heard so much about,’ Rona said, casting her shimmering blue-eyed gaze over him with open curiosity. ‘Never expected my daughter to find someone so tall or half so good-looking.’

      Cathie winced, filled yet again with that far too familiar sense of rejection. ‘Actually, Alex found me,’ she said, trying to laugh the cutting remark away.

      ‘And what a treat that was,’ he agreed. ‘Which is why we went dancing tonight, to relive that wonderful moment. It’s a delight to meet you too, Mrs Morgan, as you are as beautiful as your daughter.’

      ‘If not more so,’ Rona said with a little swivel of her shapely hips as she stood before him in her too-tight, too-short skirt and flimsy blouse through which her cleavage was clearly visible.

      He seemed to find this amusing and, reaching out, gave her hand a lingering shake of apology. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t able to accept your invitation for lunch the other day. I’m sure I would have enjoyed your cooking enormously. Perhaps another time?’

      ‘We call it dinner, not lunch. But you’re very welcome to come whenever you like, chuck,’ Rona said, making no mention of the fact that she did not actually do any of the cooking.

      ‘Thank you, I shall be delighted to accept, hopefully one day soon. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will say goodnight.’ Putting his arms about Cathie, he gave her a quick hug. ‘You will meet my parents soon, sweetie, when you come to spend Christmas with us.’

      ‘Oh, but …’

      ‘No buts. It’s long past time you did meet them, and I can think of no better occasion. After that, we can start planning the wedding.’

      Stunned into silence, Cathie simply nodded and hugged him back.

      Rona flickered her neatly trimmed eyebrows and gave him a teasing wink as he smiled at her from over her daughter’s shoulder. Maybe for once the girl had brought home someone of interest.

      How I wish I’d followed your advice, Davina, and written to Alex before he arrived. It was a bad mistake to leave it so long, as it’s now more difficult than ever. Delighted as I am to receive the invitation to spend Christmas with him and his family, how can I possibly accept because of baby Heather?’ Cathie said, sharing the problem she now faced with her friends. ‘Yet if I refuse, it will look as if I’ve no wish to spend the day with his family, and it’s long past time I met them.’

      They were enjoying one of their customary snacks together, this time midweek as neither she nor Brenda had any job to go to. The sound of carol singing by the Salvation Army filled the frosty air, as Cathie slowly sipped her bowl of hot vegetable soup. She was taking her time over it, knowing it might be the most food she would get to eat that day. How she would manage to keep the pantry stocked in the coming weeks really didn’t bear thinking about. She would be entirely dependent upon her mother’s wages to feed them, a dismaying prospect. Rona hadn’t a clue about the cost of anything, the difficulties of shortages, or even how rationing worked, as she’d always left all of such domestic matters to her daughters.

      Now even Christmas, which she’d been so looking forward to, was turning into a nightmare. It meant that all her efforts to prepare the best Christmas ever for Alex had been entirely in vain.

      ‘I’d offer to help only I’ve agreed to spend the holiday season with my late husband’s family,’ Brenda said, pulling her face as if this gave her little pleasure.

      ‘I could mind baby Heather for you, if you like,’ Davina offered, taking her entirely by surprise.

      Cathie blinked. ‘Really? Are you sure?’

      ‘Perfectly. I’m not an expert on baby care, but this is a time of goodwill, after all, so why shouldn’t I help?’ she said with a smile that seemed much warmer than usual.

      How could she decline such an offer? It was too good to refuse, even though this was not at all what Cathie had planned. ‘I don’t suppose you’d be willing to have a practice this evening as I need to attend the concert Steve and I have helped to organise? The Co-operative Society is very much involved with local charities, holding dances, whist drives, sports events and children’s parties, with which I’m always happy to help. I was going to tuck Heather into a back room, but it would be much better if you came and sat with her at home. My mother will be out on the razzle, of course, as usual. Never thinks to offer any assistance at all.’

      ‘No problem, I’d love to. Then if you’re happy with my services, I shall be equally happy to babysit for you on Christmas Day.’

      ‘That’s very generous of you,’ Brenda said with a frown, almost as if she didn’t quite believe what she was hearing either. ‘Have you no other plans? You aren’t going home to spend time with your own family?’

      ‘Not just now, no.’ When she said no more, Cathie rushed in with her thanks.

      ‘That would be great! So kind of you, thank you, Davina.’ She could hardly believe her good luck on both counts.

      They agreed a time for Davina to arrive that evening, early enough for her to be shown how to change a nappy, and feed baby Heather her bottle before putting her to bed.

      In fact she very kindly came early and carefully went through the routine of baby care, which worked wonderfully. Satisfied that all was well, and with little Heather tucked up in her cot and her friend reading a magazine by the fire, Cathie put on her hat and coat and went off to meet Steve, arriving in good time to help him get everything ready before starting to collect tickets at the door.

      It was just as well she hadn’t brought baby Heather with her as it proved to be an incredibly busy evening. Cathie was rushing about all over the place, helping people backstage with their dresses and make-up, checking that props were in the right place, and controlling the children as they waited for their turn to perform in the school choir. She also sold programmes, helped the ladies of the Women’s Institute to serve the tea during the interval, and generally scurried about doing all manner of tasks. She even found herself helping the lighting technician resolve a problem with the sound system when for some reason it failed.

      ‘You’ve improved your talents considerably,’ Steve said in surprise, not sounding half as mocking as he might once have done when they were young kids.

      ‘I’m certainly not the useless lump you used to accuse me of being,’ she retorted. ‘Thanks to my war efforts.’

      ‘Well, you couldn’t