Kitty Little by Freda Lightfoot Read Free Book Online

bumped noses. Then he would apologise for rushing her while in her heart Kitty knew he was showing admirable patience. This reaction didn’t bode well for a happy marriage. Would she be any good at It ? Was there something wrong with her that she hated to even think of sex? She took a breath. ‘Look, perhaps this is all a terrible mistake. I’m not sure I even love him.’
    ‘Leave it out. What’s love got to do with anyfink, for God’s sake?’
    Clara got up to reach into the top cupboard. Collecting a bottle of gin and rubbing a glass perfunctorily against her grubby skirt to clean it, she brought both to the table and proceeded to fill the latter to within an inch of the top. Kitty watched in silence, knowing that it said a good deal about where much of the money went in this house. Whatever rules she applied to her paying guests over the consumption of alcohol on the premises, did not apply to Clara Terry. She took a long draft, closing her eyes in ecstasy. ‘Wurf a fiver a glass that is. Nah, that sort of romantic rubbish don’t last, even if you has it at the start. Better to let fings grow slowly. Get used to each other natural like.
    ‘Anyway,’ Clara said, critically assessing her daughter, ‘beggars can’t be choosers. You’re no oil painting, great string bean that you are. And you’d be amazed how quickly the years roll by. Grasp the iron while its hot, ain’t that what they say? Frank Cussins is well placed financially for a young man still in his twenties, and not ‘alf bad looking. You have to give him that, Duchess. He don’t come home drunk every night, do he? And there ain’t so much as a sock out of place in his room. You might never get a better offer. Make no mistake about it. He’s a catch.’
    Kitty drew stubbornness about herself, like a shell. ‘If you insist on rushing me, I shall call the engagement off.’
    Clara’s affability fell away upon the instant. The lips visibly thinned, pressing inward to leave specks of scarlet lipstick on the teeth. ‘You’ll do no such fing, madam. It’s taken months of effort to bring him to this point. We need Frank Cussins, make no bones about it. He’s wurf a bob or two, buying that luvverly house in the suburbs, and once the babies start popping out, I could sell up, or more likely close down, and come and help you wiv them.’
    ‘ You? You don’t even like babies. I’m not sure that I do.’
    ‘I could learn. Same as you. All mothers love their own. So long as it don’t start calling me Grandma, I can cope.’ Clara feigned a shudder. ‘I’d certainly be glad to be rid of this mill stone round me bleedin’ neck.’
    If, in the argument which followed, Kitty had hoped to make her point, let alone to win it, she had reckoned without Clara’s trump card. ‘Refuse him and we’ll both end up on Queer street.’
    Clara leaned forward, squashing her full bosom against the table top so that it nearly clashed with her plump chin. Her next words came in a sort of stage whisper, which hissed out so fiercely in the silent kitchen, Kitty felt sure it must echo all over the house as she imagined ears pressed to keyholes, drinking in every word.
    ‘ Do you know how much money I owe on this place? More than I can pay off in one lifetime, that’s how bleedin’ much . We’re up to our ears in debt.’
    Kitty stared at her mother in dawning horror. ‘Debt, but why? I thought we were doing all right. We work hard enough, and the rooms are usually full.’
    ‘It costs a flippin’ fortune to run a house like this, and you don’t fink what I charge this lot covers our lifestyle, do you? When they pays up, that is. Everyone knows I’m too soft fer me own good. Let ‘em get away wi’ murder, I do. Not to mention all them fancy frocks and folderol’s and such like you need for your socialising.’
    ‘But I didn’t ask for any of those.’
    ‘They were an investment, Duchess, as I’ve told you before. You’re me best asset.’ Clara