When the last of the film was finished, Kate closed her eyes for a moment in relief. She’d received a few unfriendly glares on the first day, but when the models had seen how good she could make them look, they had accepted her. Two of them were even demanding that she take their photos all the time, but this wasn’t what she wanted to do. She’d been taking fashion pictures for only three weeks, and was already bored. It wouldn’t be so bad if she was interested in the latest fashions, but she wasn’t, and this was not what she’d joined the paper to do. There had been more variety in the photographs she’d taken at the local newspaper she had worked at. There were things going on out there in the world, and she wanted to be a part of them. Even if she wasn’t good enough to work abroad yet, there must be something useful she could do here.
‘Come on, Pete, let’s go back to the newsroom.’ She handed him the undeveloped films to put in the bag and slung the camera over her shoulder.
He collected the equipment, then hurried to catch her up. ‘Would you let me try to do a couple of prints today?’
‘Would you like to?’ Kate watched his animated face and smiled. The Chief had given her Pete to get rid of him, but he was turning out to be an excellent assistant, and she liked him. He was eager to learn, and she could leave the developing with him now. It would be helpful if he could do some of the printing as well. She had been surprised when he’d told her that he had just turned eighteen, for he looked younger than that.
‘Yes, please, Miss Freeman.’ He nodded until a strand of greasy hair fell over his eyes. ‘I’d like to learn everything I can. You’re so patient and don’t mind explaining how to do the printing and developing. I’ve told my mum and dad what fun it is working with you.’ Pete gave an amused chuckle. ‘It’s good the models and designers can’t hear what you think of their latest fashions.’
‘Aren’t they awful?’ Kate’s grin was wide. ‘My dad would be horrified if I started wearing skirts that short.’
‘Oh, but you’d look better in them than the models do. They’re too skinny, but you’ve got lovely long legs …’ He turned bright red. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude, Miss Freeman.’
‘Call me Kate.’ She laughed to put him at his ease. ‘And thanks for the compliment, but I’ll still keep my skirts just below my knees.’
They were both laughing as they walked into the building. While Pete hurried off to get everything ready in the darkroom, she headed for the Chief’s office.
He was alone, so she tapped on the door and waited for him to look up.
‘Yes?’ He scowled up at her.
‘I’ve finished the fashion shoot for today. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?’
Before Andrew Stevenson could reply, Mike poked his head around the door. ‘There’s been a robbery at a jewellers in Bond Street, Chief. Shall I cover it?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m going to need a photographer and Terry’s already out, so can I take Kate with me?’ Mike gave her a sly wink.
‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d want her anywhere near you again, but if you’re willing to risk it …’
Mike towed her out of the office. ‘Quick, before he changes his mind.’
She ran into the darkroom, left Pete with instructions on what to do while she was out, grabbed her camera and film, then hurried after Mike. He was waiting outside for her. ‘Thanks, Mike.’
‘Don’t get too excited,’ he told her with a grin. ‘It’s a simple job, but I know you’re fed up with what you’re doing, and I thought a look at what’s going on in the streets might cheer you up.’
‘You’re right about that,’ she told him. ‘I feel as if I’ve been banished from the real world.’
He chuckled as they got into his car and sped off towards Bond Street. And for once, she didn’t take any notice of his driving.
Kate was much happier during the next week, and even the chore of attending fashion shows and taking pictures of models couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. The Chief had allowed her to do a small job for Mike, and she was hopeful it would lead to others.
‘Let’s get this lot developed, Pete,’ she said, as they returned to the newsroom after taking photos of a large department store’s new collection.
He gazed at her shyly. ‘I’d like to be a photographer one day.’
‘Would you?’ Kate wasn’t surprised. He had been taking a great interest in the work.
He nodded and then sighed. ‘But I don’t suppose there’s much chance of that happening.’
She stopped, her heart going out to him. ‘Don’t ever believe that something is impossible. You can achieve anything if you try hard enough.’
He looked at her hopefully. ‘Do you think so?’
‘Positive.’ She smiled in encouragement and continued walking, determined to see what she could do for him. They got on well together, and whenever she’d been frustrated with the work she was doing, Pete had been there for her in support. Although she was about five years older than him, as the weeks went by she could see he was very mature for his age. Being away from people yelling at him all day was allowing the sensible, intelligent side of him to surface. She was lucky to have him as an assistant.
‘Kate!’ the Chief bellowed as soon as she opened the door.
‘Oh,’ she said, pulling a face at Pete, ‘now what have I done? Wait here. I hope I won’t be long.’
She headed for Andrew Stevenson’s office and walked in through the open door. ‘You called, Chief?’
‘Yes, about time you got back,’ he grumbled. ‘This is Robert Sinclair. He’s just joined us and needs a photographer for the afternoon.’
Kate smiled at the tall man, making a quick assessment. He was around thirty-five, dark blond hair and hazel eyes. He was outwardly attractive, but the deep lines around his mouth hinted at a man who was a stranger to laughter.
She watched him look her up and down, and when his gaze returned to her face she lifted her head slightly. His expression said that he disapproved of her dark brown trousers, cream blouse and flat shoes.
‘You can’t come with me in trousers. I’m meeting an important man this afternoon,’ he snapped.
‘I keep a skirt here,’ she told him.
‘Change at once. We haven’t much time. And I hope you know your job – I don’t want to have to keep telling you what to do.’
‘You won’t even know I’m there,’ she told him sweetly. Then she turned to Andrew, who was viewing the scene through narrowed eyes. ‘Can I take Pete with me?’
‘Whatever for?’ he asked.
‘I’d like him as my permanent assistant. He’s very good at changing films and carrying equipment.’
‘Good Lord, is he?’ The Chief looked astonished. ‘He’s always dropping things.’
‘He’s eager to please, that’s all. So can I have him?’
‘Pete!’ Andrew bellowed through the open door.
The boy came scuttling in. ‘Yes, sir?’
‘You’ve just been promoted to Kate’s permanent assistant.’
Pete looked as if he were going to pass out with joy. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘We’ll be with you in five minutes,’ Kate told the reporter, who was beginning to scowl at the delay. She towed the stunned boy out of the office. ‘Right, Pete, you go and collect six rolls of film and my tripod for me while I change into a skirt.’
He beamed before hurrying off to carry out her orders.
In exactly five minutes they were in Robert’s car. ‘Andrew assures me that you are competent, so I hope he’s right.’ The reporter cast her a sideways glance. ‘I’m interviewing an interesting man today. It’s taken me months to persuade him to talk to me and I want some good pictures.’
‘You’ll get them,’ she told him with confidence. ‘Who is he?’
‘I don’t suppose you’ll have heard of him,’ was the curt reply.
Kate sat back and didn’t bother to ask any more questions. In fifteen minutes they stopped outside an imposing building in Knightsbridge, older and more elegant than many of the newer business premises. She looked at Robert in surprise. ‘What are we doing here?’
‘I’m interviewing the new MD of Grant Phillips.’
‘Really?’ Kate pretended to be checking to see she had everything with her, but it was to hide her amusement. She felt like howling with laughter. Did Andrew Stevenson have a sense of humour after all? He must have, because he’d sent her on this job without saying anything to the reporter.
‘Hurry up,’ Robert ordered as he got out of the car.
Kate and Pete followed him into the reception area. She whispered to Pete, ‘Stick close to me. This is going to be fun.’
They were taken up to the top floor and shown into a spacious and comfortable office. The man behind the huge oak desk stood up and his gaze fixed on Kate, one eyebrow raised in query. She gave a quick shake of her head, and the corners of his mouth twitched; he then turned it into a smile as he shook hands with Robert.
‘It’s good of you to spare me the time, Mr Freeman. I hope you don’t mind if my photographer takes a few pictures while we talk?’
‘Of course not, Mr Sinclair, please sit down. Would you like coffee?’
‘Thank you.’
‘What about your photographer and her assistant?’ the managing director asked, a look of polite inquiry on his face.
‘That won’t be necessary. They’ll be too busy,’ the reporter said dismissively.
The owner of Grant Phillips called his secretary. ‘Coffee for two, please, Janet, and …’ He paused and looked across at Kate, who hung her tongue out, indicating she was thirsty. ‘… two teas for the photographers.’
Kate grinned at him from behind Robert’s back and set about making ready to take the pictures.
The men talked politely while they drank their coffee, and Kate gulped her tea. She’d been on the go all morning without a chance to stop for a break, and she was gasping for a drink. She and Pete devoured the plate of biscuits the secretary had given them. Janet knew Kate, but she was well trained and showed no sign of recognition.
As soon as the interview started, Kate went into action, being as unobtrusive as the flash would allow. Her concentration was total and she took little notice of what was being said. It was only when she handed the camera to Pete for him to reload another film that she listened.
‘Why is a prestigious company like Grant Phillips building cheap homes in the suburbs?’ Robert waited, pen poised in readiness. ‘Not the sort of high-quality development associated with this firm.’
The man behind the desk frowned slightly. It was an expression Kate knew well. If the reporter had any sense, he would watch his words.
‘Just because it’s affordable housing doesn’t mean it’s inferior. We build to the highest standards, whether it’s a manor or a small two-bedroom house.’
‘I wasn’t inferring that they were of poor quality,’ Robert hastily assured him. ‘I was just wondering why you had taken on such a project.’
‘This company was involved in slum clearance as far back as the 1920s,’ he said. ‘My mother has always had a keen interest in providing homes for the less well off, and she likes us to take on schemes like this.’
‘Ah, yes, your mother is Rose Webster, daughter of Sir George Gresham.’ Robert looked pointedly at the man sitting on the other side of the desk, making it obvious that this was of great interest to him.
‘Illegitimate daughter, Mr Sinclair.’
The pride in his voice made Kate smile broadly at him. There was no shame in their family about their mother having been born out of wedlock and brought up in the slums – quite the reverse in fact. The way she had fought and dragged herself and her family out of appalling conditions was an inspiration to them all. And after the devastation of the war, housing had been of prime concern to her mother. Over the last fifteen years she’d had many a battle with councils and unscrupulous landlords. He winked back at her when Robert turned his attention to his notebook.
‘Your mother was a remarkable woman in her youth.’ The reporter gave him a broad smile. ‘Would she allow me to interview her?’
‘She still is a remarkable woman, Mr Sinclair.’ It was a rebuke. ‘To this day my mother works tirelessly for the underprivileged. And she never gives interviews.’
‘That’s a pity.’ Robert Sinclair was obviously disappointed. ‘Would you contact me if she ever changes her mind?’
The man behind the desk merely nodded.
‘I think you’ve taken enough photos,’ Robert told Kate curtly when the flash lit the room again.
She beckoned to Pete, indicating that he should sit with her on a sofa by the window. He looked at her strangely, then at the man being interviewed. He seemed to be intrigued and was much more observant than the reporter, she noted.
They waited patiently until the interview was over and then stood up when the men did. After shaking hands with the reporter the managing director held his hand out to Kate. She went over and kissed his cheek, much to the consternation of the reporter.
He swore under his breath. ‘What’s your surname, Kate?’
‘Freeman,’ she told him, and her grin broadened as he groaned.
‘Andrew should have introduced us properly. You’re clearly related.’
‘She’s my sister, Mr Sinclair,’ James told him.
Robert viewed her with anger simmering under the surface. ‘That’s obvious now that I look.’
As Robert left the office, Kate slung her camera on her shoulder, gave James a wave and saucy wink, then hurried after the reporter and Pete. She could hear her brother’s deep chuckle as she left.
Once outside, Robert turned on her. ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me when we arrived?’
‘You didn’t give me a chance.’
‘You should have made me listen.’ Robert Sinclair opened the car door and she slid in; Pete had already settled himself in the back. When they were on their way, he said in a friendly way, ‘It’s nearly five o’clock, so would you like me to drop you home?’
‘No, thanks, we still have our fashion photos to develop.’ Kate hid a smile. He didn’t think she was going to fall for that one, did he? ‘My parents are on holiday this week.’
‘Ah.’ He shot her a glance. ‘You can’t blame me for trying.’
‘Was it my brother you really wanted to interview, or was he to be the gateway to my mother?’
‘No, I wanted to talk to your brother. He’s a very shrewd businessman but it would have been a bonus to have a follow-up about his mother. Last year I was doing some research about the slums of London just after the end of the First World War, and I came across your mother’s name. I’ve been trying to get close to your family ever since, and to Rose Webster in particular.’
‘Well, you’re wasting your time, because she’ll never speak to reporters; nor will my father.’
‘I know. I’ve tried to interview him several times, but he wouldn’t see me.’ Robert Sinclair sighed. ‘You’ve an interesting family, but your brother is the first one I’ve been able to get near.’
‘James is more outgoing. Our parents have never courted publicity.’
‘So I’ve found out.’ He paused while they waited at traffic lights. ‘Tell me about your mother.’
Kate snorted inelegantly. ‘Do you ever give up?’
‘Never. I wouldn’t be much of a reporter if I did, would I? Tell me what you want to achieve in life.’
‘I haven’t done anything yet.’ Kate laughed at his persistence.
‘No, but if you’re anything like the rest of your family, you’re going to.’
‘I hope you’re right, but that remains to be seen.’
When they arrived back, Kate promised Robert his photos by lunchtime the next day, then she went with Pete to catch up on their work.
‘I don’t know how that reporter didn’t recognize you were related to Mr Freeman,’ Pete said. ‘You’re so like each other.’
‘We have the same colouring, but to Robert Sinclair I was just the paper’s photographer; I don’t think he looked too closely. We’re photographers, Pete, and we see things other people miss.’
He smiled proudly at her in the gloom of the darkroom light. Calling him a photographer had obviously been a huge compliment, and he’d loved it. She was even more determined to do something for him now. He had handled himself quietly and efficiently today. He was showing a great deal of promise.