Page 170 of The Pearl Sister
‘It certainly does, Mrs R.’
‘So have we decided if we’re eating together?’ Mrs Randall queried.
‘Of course,’ he answered. ‘Mrs Mercer and I met many years ago. Her husband was a . . . close friend of mine. It will be a pleasure to catch up on old times, won’t it, Mrs Mercer?’
Kitty could see that at least part of him was finding this charade funny. Before she put her hands around his neck, she managed a strangled ‘Yes’, then walked as calmly as she could up the stairs to her room.
‘Good God!’ she exhaled as she slammed the door, then locked it behind her for good measure. She lay down on her bed to try and still her banging heart.
You loved him once . . .
Kitty rose a few minutes later, and prowled the room like a trapped animal. She studied her face in the small looking glass, which had bevelled black lines that criss-crossed it and marred her reflection.
She gave a small chuckle that fate should bring her here to a place where there was barely a feminine comfort to make herself smell nice or to look better for him. Even though, of course, she didn’t want to and it shouldn’t matter . . . Deriding herself for her vanity, but nevertheless, fetching Sarah from the room next door, she asked her to take out her favourite cornflower-blue muslin blouse, and do something with her mane of greying auburn hair that had become as unruly as a spoilt child and was hanging in an unwashed mass of curls about her face.
‘I think it suits you down, Missus M,’ commented Sarah as she attempted to twist it into combs. ‘Makes you look years younger.’
‘We’re eating with a very old friend of my husband’s,’ announced Kitty as she added a little lipstick to make her mouth seem fuller. Then, as it began to bleed into the lines that led from her lips, she rubbed it off harshly.
‘Missus Randall mentioned there was a gentleman who’d be eating with us tonight. Didn’t realise ’e was an old friend of yours. What’s ’is name?’
Kitty swallowed hard. ‘Everyone here calls him Mr D.’
He was waiting for them in the parlour, and Kitty could tell from his clean skin and freshly shaved face that he too had made an effort to smarten himself up.
‘Mrs Mercer.’ He stood, then bent to kiss her hand. ‘What a coincidence this is.’
‘Indeed.’
‘And who is this?’ His attention turned to Sarah.
‘This is Sarah. I met her aboard ship on my journey back to Australia a few months ago. She is my lady’s maid.’
‘’Ow do you do, sir?’ Sarah dipped an unnecessary curtsey. ‘Very well indeed, thank you. Shall we sit down?’ he suggested.
As they did so, he reached to whisper in Kitty’s ear. ‘You really do excel at collecting waifs and strays.’
Over the rather good stew, which they were informed by ‘Mr D’ was kangaroo, Kitty sat back and watched as Drummond charmed Sarah. She herself was happy for another person to be present, which removed the attention from her. Her stomach was so tight that every swallow made her feel as though she would burst.
‘So, where do you go from here?’ he asked Sarah.
‘We’re off to see some big rock in the centre of the desert tomorrow,’ Sarah informed him blithely, taking another slug of the ale Drummond had insisted she try. ‘Missus M wants to see it for some reason. It seems a long way to go to see a bit o’ stone, if yer know wot I mean.’
‘I do, but trust me, once you get there, you’ll understand. It’s special.’
‘Well, if we’re up at four, I’m off to me bed. What about you, Missus M?’
‘She’ll be up after a coffee, won’t you, Mrs Mercer?’ Drummond eyed her.
‘All right.’ Sarah gave one of her enormous yawns, and rose from the table. ‘See you bright and early tomorrow morning.’
Kitty watched as she tottered unsteadily out of the parlour.
‘Is it a habit of yours to get young women tipsy? Sarah is not yet sixteen!’ she whispered.
Drummond raised his glass of ale. ‘To you, Kitty. I swear you haven’t changed one jot since the first moment I laid eyes on you. What is it, I’ve often wondered, that makes you quite so angry?’
Kitty shook her head, hating how, after all these years, Drummond could reduce her to a mass of seething insecurity and fury. Again, she had a desperate urge to slap him.
