them. They’re always taken from you.’ Her voice was desperately sad.
Katie felt for her. All she knew was that her grandparents didn’t want anything to do with them, that Vera’s husband had died so young. She had great sympathy for her mother. But it meant that she had never felt that she was enough, that there was anything adequate she could do to make up for all her mother’s grief and pain. All she could do now was pat her hand.
‘It’s all right, Mother. You’ll be better soon. Then things won’t look so bad. D’you want another sip of water?’
But Vera ignored the question, squeezing Katie’s hand with sudden ferocity. ‘You won’t go away and leave me, will you? Promise me?’
With a sinking heart, Katie looked back into her mother’s intense, feverish gaze. What was she asking? Katie felt trapped, stifled, but what else could she say?
‘I . . . No, of course I won’t, Mother—’
Vera’s head came off the pillow. ‘ Promise me.’
‘I promise.’
Twelve
Vera seemed less feverish the next morning. Katie had left her with plenty to drink and the reassurance that Mrs Hargreaves from next door would look in on her this morning, and that Enid was due to come over in the afternoon. It was a lovely day, bright and crisp, and even right here in the middle of town, hemmed in by factories, it lifted the spirits. Katie was so glad to be out of the house and breathed in deep, her lips turning up in a smile at the sense of freedom and of being away from her mother.
Her smile met that of Simon Collinge. Until then she had assumed that he came into work with his father, but no, there he was getting out of what seemed to be his own shiny Austin 10 tourer! The sight of the car removed him into a life of wealth and privilege very far from her own, and immediately she felt embarrassed and foolish about daydreaming over its owner. What on earth did she think she was playing at! She lowered her gaze and was hurrying past, but he jumped energetically from the sporty little car to land in front of her, and perched his hat lightly on his head in time to tip it off again for her benefit, in a way that was gentlemanly and self-mocking at the same time.
‘Morning!’ he called cheerfully. ‘Lovely day.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed, her heart speeding like a motor that had been turned up. ‘Lovely car as well.’
He smiled. ‘Oh, she is, isn’t she? Goes like the clappers.’
Katie could feel the eyes of the stream of workers coming into the factory all watching this exchange and tried to walk on again. But Simon Collinge slammed shut the door of the car and fell into step beside her as they made their way into the works. You could hear the racket of the machines from behind the closed doors. He was carrying his coat over his arm and held his trilby resting on top of it. His hair had a slightly rumpled look, as if he had brushed it, but it wouldn’t lie flat. Katie had to restrain herself from reaching up and smoothing it down as if he was a child.
‘Have you been here long?’ He spoke in a relaxed way that put her at her ease a little.
‘Oh, no – only a few months.’
‘Really?’ He sounded impressed and turned to look directly at her, which brought an embarrassed flush to her face. ‘Where were you before?’
‘I was at Serck,’ she told him, trying to sound casual.
‘Oh, marvellous – that’s good . . .’
She wasn’t quite sure why this was so good, and it dawned on her that he was rather nervous of her, which somehow put her more at ease.
‘And you were working at Herbert’s?’
‘Yes, that’s right. I thought I’d go somewhere and do some time in a place that wasn’t the family firm – just for a while anyway. All good experience . . .’
He began to peel off as they got inside.
‘I’m going onto the floor for a bit.’ He turned, walking backwards as he spoke to her, moving towards the shop floor. See you up in the lions’ den!’
Katie laughed at this
Katie felt for her. All she knew was that her grandparents didn’t want anything to do with them, that Vera’s husband had died so young. She had great sympathy for her mother. But it meant that she had never felt that she was enough, that there was anything adequate she could do to make up for all her mother’s grief and pain. All she could do now was pat her hand.
‘It’s all right, Mother. You’ll be better soon. Then things won’t look so bad. D’you want another sip of water?’
But Vera ignored the question, squeezing Katie’s hand with sudden ferocity. ‘You won’t go away and leave me, will you? Promise me?’
With a sinking heart, Katie looked back into her mother’s intense, feverish gaze. What was she asking? Katie felt trapped, stifled, but what else could she say?
‘I . . . No, of course I won’t, Mother—’
Vera’s head came off the pillow. ‘ Promise me.’
‘I promise.’
Twelve
Vera seemed less feverish the next morning. Katie had left her with plenty to drink and the reassurance that Mrs Hargreaves from next door would look in on her this morning, and that Enid was due to come over in the afternoon. It was a lovely day, bright and crisp, and even right here in the middle of town, hemmed in by factories, it lifted the spirits. Katie was so glad to be out of the house and breathed in deep, her lips turning up in a smile at the sense of freedom and of being away from her mother.
Her smile met that of Simon Collinge. Until then she had assumed that he came into work with his father, but no, there he was getting out of what seemed to be his own shiny Austin 10 tourer! The sight of the car removed him into a life of wealth and privilege very far from her own, and immediately she felt embarrassed and foolish about daydreaming over its owner. What on earth did she think she was playing at! She lowered her gaze and was hurrying past, but he jumped energetically from the sporty little car to land in front of her, and perched his hat lightly on his head in time to tip it off again for her benefit, in a way that was gentlemanly and self-mocking at the same time.
‘Morning!’ he called cheerfully. ‘Lovely day.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed, her heart speeding like a motor that had been turned up. ‘Lovely car as well.’
He smiled. ‘Oh, she is, isn’t she? Goes like the clappers.’
Katie could feel the eyes of the stream of workers coming into the factory all watching this exchange and tried to walk on again. But Simon Collinge slammed shut the door of the car and fell into step beside her as they made their way into the works. You could hear the racket of the machines from behind the closed doors. He was carrying his coat over his arm and held his trilby resting on top of it. His hair had a slightly rumpled look, as if he had brushed it, but it wouldn’t lie flat. Katie had to restrain herself from reaching up and smoothing it down as if he was a child.
‘Have you been here long?’ He spoke in a relaxed way that put her at her ease a little.
‘Oh, no – only a few months.’
‘Really?’ He sounded impressed and turned to look directly at her, which brought an embarrassed flush to her face. ‘Where were you before?’
‘I was at Serck,’ she told him, trying to sound casual.
‘Oh, marvellous – that’s good . . .’
She wasn’t quite sure why this was so good, and it dawned on her that he was rather nervous of her, which somehow put her more at ease.
‘And you were working at Herbert’s?’
‘Yes, that’s right. I thought I’d go somewhere and do some time in a place that wasn’t the family firm – just for a while anyway. All good experience . . .’
He began to peel off as they got inside.
‘I’m going onto the floor for a bit.’ He turned, walking backwards as he spoke to her, moving towards the shop floor. See you up in the lions’ den!’
Katie laughed at this
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