Page 28 of The Pearl Sister
* * *
Over the following few days, she avoided her father as much as she could, the situation made easier by the fact her eighteenth birthday was fast approaching. The house positively buzzed with secrets and excitement at the prospect of a celebration, her sisters shushing her out of the room to whisper conspiratorially together, and her parents spending time together in the drawing room with the door firmly closed.
On the eve of her birthday, Ralph caught her as she headed upstairs to bed.
‘My dearest Katherine, tomorrow you will no longer be a child.’
‘Yes, Father.’ Kitty could not bring herself to meet his gaze.
‘You are a credit to both myself and your mother.’ Ralph bent down and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Goodnight, and God bless you.’
Kitty nodded her thanks and continued up the stairs.
In bed, she pulled the covers over her head, shivering in the late autumn chill.
‘Lord, forgive me,’ she sighed, ‘for I’m no longer sure who my father is.’
* * *
Aylsa was already up to lay the fires when Kitty descended the stairs the next morning. Needing some fresh air to clear the fog of confusion and the exhaustion of another restless night, she slipped out of the house and walked in the direction of the docks.
She stopped to sit on a low wall, watching the sky’s slow awakening, which sent hues of purple and pink across its miraculous breadth. Then she saw a figure emerge from the street that she had just walked down. It was Annie, whom Kitty realised must have seen her passing along the alley and followed her.
Their gazes locked as the woman approached her.
‘He came tae see me,’ said Annie gruffly, dark smudges of exhaustion evident beneath her eyes. ‘He cannae hide no more behind God. Aye, he knows the truth!’
‘I . . .’ Kitty moved away from her.
‘What’m I meant to do?’ Annie demanded. ‘He gave me a few coins and told me to go get rid o’ it. I cannae, I’m too far gone.’
‘I don’t know, I’m sorry, I . . .’
‘Och, you’re sorry! Fat lot of good that does me! It’s your daddy that needs to be sorry.’
‘I have to go. I really do apologise,’ Kitty repeated as she rose to her feet, picked up her skirts, then walked swiftly away in the direction of home.
‘He’s the Devil!’ Annie shouted after her. ‘That’sthe truth!’
* * *
Somehow, Kitty got through the rest of the day – she opened the thoughtful homemade presents from her sisters and blew out the candles on the cake that Aylsa had made especially for her. She suppressed a shudder as Ralph kissed and embraced her – a natural act that, up until a few days ago, she had delighted in. Now it somehow felt unclean.
‘My dear, you have grown into a fine young woman,’ Adele said proudly. ‘I pray that one day soon you will have a family of your own and be the lady of your own household.’
‘Thank you, Mother,’ Kitty replied quietly.
‘Dearest Katherine, my special girl. Happy birthday, and may the Lord bless you in your future. I believe He has something special in mind for you, my dear.’
Later that evening, Kitty was called in to her father’s bare cell of a study that lay at the back of the house facing a brick wall. He always said that the lack of a view helped him focus on his sermons.
‘Katherine, do come and sit down.’ Ralph indicated the hard-backed wooden chair in the corner of the room. ‘Now then, you are aware that I had supper with Mrs McCrombie recently?’
‘Yes, Father.’ Whenever Kitty had glanced at her father’s patron across the aisle in church, she had seen an extravagantly dressed, plump middle-aged woman who looked out of place in the far poorer crowd. Mrs McCrombie never visited them at home. Instead, her father went to see her in her grand house just off Princes Street. Therefore, their sum total of shared conversation had amounted to a polite ‘good morning’ if their paths had crossed outside church after the service.
‘As you know, Katherine, Mrs McCrombie has always been a generous benefactress of our church and our community,’ said Ralph. ‘Her eldest son went into the clergy but was killed in the first Boer War. I fancy she rather sees me as his replacement, and, of course, gives to the church in his memory. She’s a good woman, a Christian woman who wants to help those less fortunate than herself, and I’m eternally grateful that she has chosen my church as her charity.’
‘Yes, Father.’ Kitty wondered where this was leading and hoped the conversation would be over soon. It was her eighteenth birthday, after all, and just now, she could hardly bear to breathe the same air as him.
