Kate & Alf

Kate & Alf

CARRIE STONE

A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

HarperImpulse an imprint of

HarperCollinsPublishers

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www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015

Copyright © Carrie Stone 2015

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Cover layout design © HarperColl‌insPublishers Ltd 2015

Cover design by Jane Harwood

Carrie Stone asserts the moral right

to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is

available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

entirely coincidental.

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and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

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written permission of HarperCollins.

Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

Ebook Edition © January 2015 ISBN: 9780008123079

Version 2015-01-12

In memory of Johnny Battley & Terry Stone

Both of whom are now making the angels laugh.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Carrie Stone

About HarperImpulse

About the Publisher

Prologue

Summer 2010

‘I don’t know what to do to make it better for you.’ Alf’s voice was uncertain as he gently stroked Kate’s hair whilst he held her in his arms – silently pained by the tremble of her body against his; her weeping as unnerving as the situation they’d found themselves in.

Sniffing back tears, she held up her leaden head and met his eyes. ‘There’s nothing you can do. It’s one of those things – I just need some time to heal, that’s all.’ Or so they’d told her. And it wasn’t as if it was the first time she’d dealt with loss. She should have been used to it by now – should have embraced it like the old friend it was steadily becoming.

She saw the love in his gaze, but it was reflected back at her behind a wall of despair and something else. Feeling her breath catch in her throat, she at once felt guilty. Grief. It was grief in his eyes. She’d been so wrapped up in her own emotions that she hadn’t stopped to really consider how he’d been feeling.

Alf propped himself up on one elbow, his arm sinking into the duck-feather pillow. He stared at the wall, considering options for a moment. He’d never been good at talking about feelings; he was better at taking the lead in other ways. Yet, how was he supposed to act?

He felt thrown off kilter – the panic and underlying turmoil that he’d been feeling at the news only a couple of weeks previously had now been replaced with anguish and guilt. The only way forward was to support Kate in the way he knew best.

‘We could have a day out somewhere if you’d like? You know – take your mind off things. What about taking a drive somewhere?’ He drew a figure of eight across her lips and felt relieved as she formed a wobbly smile. ‘Come on – it’ll be fun!’

They both knew it wouldn’t be, but he couldn’t stay home and watch her fall apart any more than he’d had to endure already. He’d had enough of feeling helpless; it was hurting him to see her like this.

Wiping a crumbling piece of tissue across her reddened eyes, Kate nodded – knowing that she had to make an effort in some way – as much for Alf as for herself. ‘Okay. Sure.’ Slowly disentangling herself from his embrace, she sat up, brushing a piece of wet hair from her cheek and forcing a brighter smile. ‘I won’t take too long to get ready. Why don’t you make us some tea?’

He leaned forward, kissing her shoulder before getting out of bed and stretching. ‘Okay, babe. Go get ready and I’ll prepare us some breakfast.’

Like a reticent child, she eyed the bathroom door along the hallway, relieved as Alf pulled on his jogging bottoms and padded down the stairs.

It wasn’t like we’d planned for a baby anyway, she told herself. She’d been telling herself that a lot in the last two days. Besides, neither of them had been particularly sure if it was the right time to bring a child into the world. Yet, on an unexpected level, she’d been so excited – full of amazement and wonder at the little life growing inside her. Even if was only for six weeks. They’d barely had time to bond before nature had decided to intervene….

She felt her eyes brimming with tears once again and mentally willed herself to be strong. Wrapping her dressing gown around her, she couldn’t help but feel lightened as she heard the crashing of plates from the downstairs kitchen followed by loud cursing.

In that moment she knew she’d get through it because she had Alf to help her; the Alf that couldn’t even boil an egg and was now attempting to tackle a Full English. Just for her. He was always there – her rock and port of call.

She trusted that together they’d weather anything.

It was just a matter of healing. And time.

Chapter 1

Spring 2014

Kate smoothed the delicate layers of cream chiffon over her hips and carefully adjusted her jewelled, scooped neckline, allowing a subtle hint of her ample cleavage. She stood back, admiring herself in the mirror. She hardly recognised the woman staring back at her. Her usually nondescript mid-length hair had been expertly coloured a dark auburn and styled into gentle waves, framing her oval face. Her large eyes, although still their matt dark-blue colour, were sparkling with anticipation. The shimmer of the smoky eye-shadow that she’d been rallied into purchasing really did give her a mysteriously exotic edge. Long, slightly undefined but tanned legs stretched from beneath her knee-length hemline. She’d taken Megan’s advice to try a tinted moisturiser and the results were hard to miss; her usually pale skin had a soft, warm glow. She’d forgotten that she, Kate Wilson, could look quite so glamorous.

She felt a harsh realisation wash through her. Where had this Kate been hiding? Where had the carefree, independent and fashion-conscious Kate disappeared to? The girl she’d been before had slowly and unwittingly morphed into sensible, average Kate over the past couple of years. Kate the care-home worker and Kate the home-maker. In a moment of fleeting clarity she realised she’d shamefully got too comfortable, too safe, too conditioned. She had slipped into a stagnant routine and somewhere along the line, playfulness and fun had flown out of the window.

Quickly shaking off the melancholy, she selected a pair of sparkling drop earrings from the trinket box lying open on her bedside cabinet. Tonight was her night: an evening to shine and be lavished with attention from those closest to her. She’d been daydreaming of this party for three weeks – since finding out that Alf had planned something. It seemed like an age since she’d truly been the focus of any sort of celebration and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited about an evening out. It wasn’t for lack of offers, but simply put partying, heavy drinking and impromptu fun seemed to have disappeared somewhere amongst the long working hours and many nights in together. Even the odd nights out with friends at their local pub seemed to lack the sparkle they’d once had. Three glasses of wine and a bag of salt- and-vinegar crisps in a wooden booth at The Red Lion could hardly be considered as living it up…

With a pang of regret, Kate realised she missed this – the chance to get really dressed up and the rush of adrenalin at the prospect of letting her hair down and dancing the night away in unfamiliar surroundings. Tonight she was determined that aside from looking both womanly and – dare she think it – rather sexy, she was going to enjoy herself immensely. It was her thirty-second birthday after all….

Alf burst into the bedroom wearing nothing but navy socks and red boxer shorts that had seen better days. His protruding belly, complete with a dark, wiry hair trail wobbled gently as he scratched his neck and took in the scene before him. He stood transfixed, one eyebrow raised.

‘Wow! You look amazing.’ His eyes swept up and down her body, lingering on her legs and Kate suddenly felt a little self-conscious. It was such a far cry from her regular jeans, top and pumps combination and she knew Alf must be thinking the same as her – why didn’t she look like this more often…? And why on earth didn’t she?

Feeling guilty, she giggled. ‘Thanks! I thought I’d make a bit of an effort. I’m pleased you like it…I might have to start wearing dresses and heavier make-up on a daily basis from now on if that’s the reaction I’m going to get from you.’

He shook his head dismissively. ‘No babe, you always look nice. No need to go changing yourself. You’re lovely as you are.’

There was a hint of weariness in his tone and she couldn’t help pondering on why he was being so temperamental of late. Feeling a slight wave of the familiar hysteria that had been creeping up on her in the past months, she grabbed a small pot of bronze nail varnish from her top drawer, trying to block the niggling relationship concerns that were sweeping through her.

Alf was already turning away and opening the wardrobe, seeming not to notice the sudden anxiety surrounding her.

‘We need to get going soon, though.’ Pulling a dark-blue shirt from its hanger, he held it up briefly, before pushing his arm through the sleeve. ‘The others are expecting us at eight o’clock.’ Grabbing a pair of jeans and slinging them over his shoulder, he walked out of the room – failing to see Kate’s questioning glance.

She turned back towards the mirror. The woman staring back at her had lost some of the excited air of moments before. ‘Okay, snap out of it,’ she told herself sternly, noticing that her curls were beginning to drop a little. ‘You’re a team. He’s just stressed with work. He loves you. You love him. You’re creating problems that aren’t there.’ She gazed into her reflection with determination. ‘Besides, tonight is the night.’

Remembering the freshly chipped nail polish on her index finger, she sat down on the bed and unscrewed the lid of the bottle. Dipping the small brush into the liquid, she carefully touched up her nail, the distraction helping her to feel slightly calmer.

Minutes later, Alf strode back into the room with a grin, smelling heavily of the expensive aftershave she’d bought him for special occasions. Her stomach danced as she inhaled the woody scent and all at once her mood was lifted back to a blissful place. It was definitely the night.

Replacing the brush into the small pot, Kate stood up from the bed and reached for her perfume bottle, spritzing herself lavishly and feeling even more optimistic as Alf selected his favourite sports jacket from the wardrobe, placing it on a chair.

He looked her up and down again as he looped a black belt through his trousers and fastened it a notch too tightly. ‘Are you almost ready, babe?’ he asked, bending over to retrieve his polished black shoes from the stand.

‘Yes, but I just need a couple of minutes to let this varnish dry.’ She waved her finger in the air, watching as he tied his shoelaces – noticing with alarm that his head of thick chestnut-brown hair had thinned drastically at the front. She could see the light reflecting off his scalp in places where the coverage was so sparse. When had that happened? Could it be linked to stress?

She sat back down on the bed, failing to notice as the loosely capped bottle of nail polish was jerked onto its side with the vibration of the movement. He still looks dashing, she thought to herself with conviction. Sure, he was greying quite heavily at the temples, and yes, he’d developed a slight paunch – but not only was he thirty-seven years old, he was also her Alf, the one that had stood by her side through thick and thin for the last seven years. And, hopefully, depending on tonight’s outcome – he would be making an even longer-lasting commitment. Her stomach flipped with nervous energy and she felt herself growing hot.

Finishing tying his laces, Alf stood upright and picked up his jacket. He glanced at Kate’s uncharacte‌ristically made-up face and noticed a blush spreading underneath the heavy foundation on her cheeks. ‘Are you okay? You look flushed?’

Caught off-guard, Kate jumped up, smoothing down her dress and reaching for her clutch bag with her right hand. ‘Fine,’ she said hurriedly, looking at her right hand as a sticky substance filmed a layer across the skin. ‘What on earth…?’ she stared down in alarm at the bronze paint covering her palm and fingers, her eyes immediately darting to the bed and her dress.

‘Oh, God! It’s all over your dress.’ Stating the obvious, Alf’s stare was fixed upon the unmissable bronze smear on the delicate cream chiffon.

He looked on helplessly as Kate’s expression changed to horror; a wave of both panic and exasperation taking hold of her. ‘No, no, no, no…!’ She hastily grabbed a used make-up wipe and tried to erase the seeping bronze stain. It was a futile attempt. The sticky mess had already formed an inch-wide stain on the material, obvious for all to see. ‘Oh goodness, it’s ruined, it’ll never come out.’ Unable to control her deflation, she felt the buildup behind her eyes and tried desperately to hold her head upwards, fluttering her eyelids in an attempt to stop the threatening tears from streaming into her eye make-up. ‘What am I going to do?’

Realising the gravity of the situation and knowing that it couldn’t have happened at a worse moment, Alf stepped forward and placed his arms around her. ‘Come on, it’s not the end of the world. You look gorgeous in whatever you wear.’ He gently wiped a small tear from under her eye. ‘Get changed into something else – we’ll get you another dress to replace this one next week.’

She wanted to argue that next week was too late – her special moment was tonight –but she refrained. Aware of the ticking clock, she slipped off the beautiful dress that had made her feel so glamorous and exceptional and walked across to her wardrobe. Not having indulged in luxurious or unnecessary purchases over the past year, she knew her alternative options were limited. It was either her faithful black shift dress – worn countless times and a little faded, one of the many dresses she no longer fitted since going up a dress size, or the asymmetrical green party dress she’d bought last Christmas that made her resemble a billowing tree. She deliberated for a few seconds before plucking the black dress from its hanger. It would have to do.

Stepping into it and pulling it up, she struggled to fasten the awkwardly angled rear zip. ‘Can you zip me up, please?’

With one swift motion, Alf fastened the rear zipper and Kate’s body was snugly embraced in the black material. She walked across to the free-standing mirror. It didn’t look bad. Just, well… a bit plain.

Standing next to her, Alf nodded in gratification, a beaming smile lighting up his face. ‘Now that is the Kate that I know and love. You look lovely. Much better than that fussy cream thing.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘This is much more you. Simple, classy and understated.’

Looking at him quizzically, Kate didn’t say anything. She couldn’t help but notice that his sparkling eyes and happy demeanour at her appearance were genuine. She felt herself rile ever so slightly. His words were not those of dishonest encouragement to make her feel better – they were words spoken from the heart. Unsure how to feel about it, she tried to quickly dismiss the thought. Simple? What was that supposed to mean?

‘Okay, well this looks fine – so I guess we can get going. There’s no point me crying over a dress on my birthday, is there?’

‘Exactly, babe. It’s a special night anyway – you won’t even be thinking about the dress once we’re out and celebrating.’ A hint of a smile played on his lips and intuitively Kate knew what he was referring to. Her pulse quickened.

Alf picked up his wallet and slipped it into his pocket. ‘Right, let’s make a move, then.’

Re-touching her eyeliner in a final attempt to look as good as she possibly could, she picked up her clutch bag and switched off the bedroom light.

Two years she’d waited. It was just as they’d agreed. Two years in order to allow enough time for travel, the house renovations and, of course, Alf’s career advances. It had passed so quickly – much quicker than she’d expected. It seemed almost yesterday that they’d had the conversation – she could still recall the moment she’d blurted out her feelings. It had been minutes before they’d left the house for her monumental thirtieth birthday dinner. He’d been surprised; she remembered the shock on his face. But then he’d hugged her and explained his reasons for not asking sooner. They’d talked about it for what seemed like hours, but it was, in fact, probably only minutes. Two years is what he’d said and she’d remained silent on the matter ever since, not wanting to push him.

And now, tonight – two years later, on her thirty-second birthday – if Alf was true to his word, Kate was about to fulfil her deepest wish – accepting his engagement proposal. Her heart fluttered at the thought.

She was more than ready to become Mrs Alf Stafford.

Alf drove eagerly out of their suburban housing estate as Kate gazed quietly out of the passenger window, scanning the rows of identical red-brick terraced houses. She’d never given much thought to their mid-terrace property until lately. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy living in Ramsley Way – they’d bought the rendered white two-bed home six years previously and had been more than happy living there. Yet, looking at the mass of similar houses, she realised she was yearning to become more individual. They’d never planned to live there long term. It was supposed to be a starter home, but that idea had seemed to have fallen by the wayside…

She noticed that the detached pointed-roof house that sat on the corner of Worthington Road had recently been renovated. Its fresh coat of white exterior paint, potted shrubs either side of the green door and new sweeping brick driveway made her spirits lift even further. She’d been fixated on that particular property for some time now. It seemed so grandiose in comparison to their own home. It was idyllic – the type of marital home that she hoped to one day share with Alf and their children.

‘What are you smiling at?’ Alf asked, glancing sideways.

Kate grinned excitedly. ‘I’m just happy – it’s not often a girl gets to celebrate turning thirty-two with a handsome man by her side.’ She rubbed her hand on his leg and returned to looking out of the window.

Alf smiled at the comment and stared ahead. His spirits were high, but he hoped Megan hadn’t taken it upon herself to interfere and let Kate know the finer details of the surprise he’d planned. Their close friendship puzzled him. Kate’s ways were so different from those of the showy and attention-seeking Megan. She wasn’t anything but troublesome in his opinion – always filling Kate’s head with silly ideas and notions of riches and glamour. Kate was gentle, grounded; it bothered him that Megan couldn’t appreciate that.

‘So, am I allowed to know where we are going?’ Kate asked with a sparkle of anticipation in her eyes.

Alf grinned, feeling himself swelling with pride. Arranging surprises wasn’t his forte, but even he had surpassed his own expectations with what he’d organised. He was certain Kate was going to be impressed with the thought behind his idea.

Tapping his nose cheekily, he narrowly missed the left turn needed for the venue and just managed to pull the car onto a verge before hitting the A road ahead. Kate reached out for the dashboard to brace herself as the car came to a sharp, abrupt stop.

‘Sorry – I should have taken a left back there.’ Putting the car into reverse gear, he cursed under his breath as he waited for the traffic to ease to make his U-turn.

Trying to hide her mild confusion, she remained silent. She had been so certain that they’d been going to the small country pub venue she’d discreetly found bookmarked on his laptop. It hadn’t helped that Megan had remained uncharacte‌ristically tight-lipped on the subject. Yet it made sense; the country pub was the typical type of event venue that Alf would go for. It looked cosy, quaint and welcoming. She’d already envisioned herself walking into the pretty beamed entrance to the cheers of her nearest and dearest. Perhaps a DJ playing in the corner…

Why then, was Alf heading in the direction of a nearby town? She tried to think rationally – could the venue have been changed at the last moment? She felt her stomach flutter with nerves and was relieved she’d opted for her trusty black dress – thankful that she wouldn’t be dealing with unsightly sweat marks.

She was so looking forward to seeing who’d be there. Familiar faces danced through her mind and she mentally made a note of who she wanted to spend time catching up with. She didn’t often get to see those closest to her, what with her long working hours at Oak Park Care Home, especially over the past nine months since she’d taken on more responsibility. She wanted to make the most of it. Thinking of work made her mind drift to Vivian, one of the residents. She hadn’t been looking her perky self of late and Kate was a little worried that there was more to it than was meeting the eye.