A Daughter's Choice by June Francis Read Free Book Online Page B

employment in the hotel business. Rita had risen higher but Celia hadn’t the confidence to be the one giving orders. She only wished she had because money was something she would have liked more of, dreaming of the day she might go in search of her daughter.
    What did Katherine look like? Did she take after Mick or herself? What had his mother told her about Celia? These were questions she had asked herself over and over again, and each time she came up with the same answers and did not like any of them.
    A breeze blew a strand of hair into her mouth as she passed the Ribble bus station and was removed with fingers which still shook nervously when life got too much for her. She had never been able to harden herself against setbacks, heartache and pain, and so had kept herself to herself. After one bad experience she never risked getting involved with a man again. She guessed Rita was a bit that way too, although she had never said it was a man who had caused her to remain in her spinster state. Celia and Rita were not as close as they had been once but remained friendly.
    She turned into the road where the Seaview Hotel was situated and hurried up a path flanked with laurel and holly bushes to a large redbrick Victorian building with revolving doors and a recently built sun lounge. She found Rita, now assistant manageress, in Reception.
    â€˜Morning, Cessy,’ she said with a smile. ‘What have you done to the weather?’
    â€˜Same as usual,’ said Celia. ‘Forgot to pray about it. Do you think it’s going to be one of those summers?’
    â€˜Who knows!’ Rita handed her the pass keys to the bedrooms. ‘I got soaked the other day in Liverpool. By the way, I’ve something to tell you when you’ve finished.’
    â€˜Something nice?’
    â€˜Interesting. But I’ll tell you later. Old Henny’s on the warpath this morning. Must have lost at bridge last night.’ She turned as a woman came downstairs.
    Celia hurried away to hang up her coat and found the other cleaner by the broom cupboard. They exchanged hellos but Celia did not waste time listening to her stories about her husband and children that morning but started work. Later in the day she would go to the cafe off Lord Street where she helped in the kitchen around lunchtime. Sometimes, if the Seaview got really busy, she returned later in the day and helped out, peeling vegetables and washing dishes. She even waited at table sometimes, anything to make a bit of extra money, because she had a secret vice.
    Celia daydreamed as she made beds and dusted, imagining what she would do if she won the football pools. First she would tell Mrs Henshall what she could do with her job, and secondly she would go in search of Katherine and tell her she never meant to desert her. Her daughter would believe her and Mrs Mcleod would be pleased to see her. She would be welcomed into the bosom of the family and they would all live happily ever after. Then every Saturday she and Katherine would have a good old root around the clothes shops and deck themselves out in the best Paris fashions, and they would certainly go on a cruise –
if
she could win on the pools.
    If
Celia won lots and lots of money she would buy her own little bed and breakfast place. It was a dream she and Rita had shared in their early days in Southport. Maybe she might even meet a man and get married. Someone like Mr Pritchard who came to stay at the Seaview with his sister towards the end of summer when the Southport Show was in full swing. He was tall and well-built with a ramrod-straight back from having been a professional soldier. He had served in India in the days of Gandhi and loved to talk about it. She imagined taking tea with him in one of the posher hotels in Southport and dancing to the music of Victor Sylvester at the Floral Hall. Then he would see her home and kiss her. He had a moustache so it might tickle. Celia smiled to herself and