‘I know, sister, but Dr John – senior, that is – telephoned and suggested I visit my cousin this afternoon.’
‘And I’ve been advised that this patient is to have no unsupervised visits. As there is no doctor on this ward at present, I am afraid I will have to ask you to leave.’
‘It’s all right, sister, I’m here.’ Andrew’s father walked into the cubicle. ‘You’re never able to stop work on a busy ward like this for a moment, are you, sister?’ he murmured sympathetically. ‘Well, why don’t you take the opportunity to make yourself a cup of tea and put your feet up for five minutes now. I’ll let you know when we leave.’
Giving Dr John a stern look, the sister left the room.
‘No extra cups of tea for me on this ward for the next year or two,’ he said, not entirely humorously. ‘Thanks for coming, Beth.’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Diana gave Bethan an enormous hug as she leaned over the bed to kiss her cheek. ‘See, I can move both arms now. You will tell Mam? They won’t let her back in again until Saturday.’
‘Which is why I allowed Bethan in this afternoon. But I warn you, she knows she’s here to calm you down and stop you asking so many questions.’
‘I promised I’d be good if you allowed her to come, didn’t I?’
‘And I’ll hold you to that promise, young lady.’
‘I’ll tell your mother.’ Bethan sat on a chair next to the bed. ‘How are you? The truth, mind.’
‘Worn to a frazzle, whatever one of those is. A woman comes in three times a day to pummel me and make me do more exercises than anyone in their right mind would want to.’
‘But that “woman”, as you call her, has helped you to regain some control over your left arm and leg.’
‘I know, Dr John, and I’m grateful. Really I am,’ Diana conceded. ‘But I have a million and one questions and no one will give me any answers.’
‘I’m not surprised. From what I’ve heard your number one question is, “when can I go home?” and you’re asking it ten times an hour.’
‘More like twenty,’ she corrected, and Bethan saw a trace of the old mischievous Diana.
‘You remember home?’
‘Wyn’s house. Do I still live there?’
‘Don’t answer that, Bethan,’ Dr John ordered.
‘When can I see Will?’
‘On Saturday, with your mother.’
‘Promise?’
‘You heard it from the horse’s mouth.’ Bethan grasped Diana’s right hand. ‘I’ve missed you and our talks.’
‘Sorry I can’t say the same but it would sound peculiar under the circumstances. I don’t think you can miss anyone when you’re in a coma. Although I really do miss Billy, and I can’t begin to imagine him as a five-year-old. The doctors and nurses,’ she glanced at Dr John, ‘won’t even let me have a photograph of him.’
‘All in good time.’
‘You’re beginning to sound like a cracked record, Dr John.’
‘And patients should show more respect to their doctor.’
Diana turned back to Bethan. ‘William really has come through the war all right?’
‘You know your brother, Will is more than all right. He’s absolutely fine. He even made some money in Italy.’
‘He was in Italy?’
Bethan looked apologetically at her father-in-law, ‘Sorry, that just slipped out.’
‘Make sure nothing else does.’
‘What does it matter where Will was in the war, now he’s back home?’ Diana said, determined to be both casual and cheerful because she suspected if she showed the slightest emotion, she’d lose not only the prospective visit from her mother and William, but have this one curtailed.
‘Is he working for Charlie again?’
‘He’s got a new job but he’ll tell you all about it himself.’
‘And Mam is married. What is my stepfather like, Beth?’
‘Can I show Diana a photograph of Dino and Megan, Dr John?’ Bethan asked.
He glanced over her shoulder as she pulled it from her bag to make sure it was just of Dino and Megan and no one else. ‘That one and no others.’
Bethan handed it to Diana.
‘He must be short.’
‘He’s taller than your mother.’
‘Not by much that I can see and she’s five foot nothing, although he is a whole lot wider. Mam said Billy’s living with them.’
‘Yes, and they’re looking after him beautifully.’
‘And I have a daughter?’
‘You’re moving on to dangerous ground, Diana,’ Dr John warned.
‘How am I ever going to remember the last six years if people won’t talk to me about the things I’ve forgotten? Mam said I named her Catrina after our grandmother.’
‘You did, and she’s going to be a beauty.’
‘She’s two?’
‘Yes, she’s just beginning to talk in sentences and she loves playing with Billy, Eddie and Rachel –’
‘Bethan, we have to go.’ Dr John had suddenly realised where Diana was leading the conversation but Bethan was ahead of him and had already left her chair. ‘And you, young lady,’ he admonished Diana, ‘were warned not to ask questions by the specialist, who only agreed Bethan could visit you on condition you kept the conversation fixed on events that you can remember.’
‘If Wyn’s been dead for over four years, who’s Catrina’s father?’ Diana blurted out impatiently.
‘One thing at a time, Diana.’
‘She does have a father?’
‘Of course she has a father,’ Bethan reassured.
‘I married again after Wyn was killed?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s a relief. At least she’s not a bastard. But I can’t remember …’
‘Which is why you have to take things easy. Bethan, we really do have to go.’
‘Here,’ Bethan handed Diana the photograph. ‘Why don’t you look at this to see if it helps jog your memory. You went to your mother’s wedding. She wouldn’t have many people in the church but afterwards there was a big party in Ronconi’s restaurant.’ She didn’t dare look her father-in-law in the eye as she mentioned ‘Ronconi’. ‘Practically everyone we know was there.’
‘Will?’
‘No, he came home later that night.’
‘Does my husband live with me?’
‘Not during the war, but he’s back safely now and he can’t wait to be with you when you leave here.’ Bethan looked helplessly at Dr John.
‘Then why hasn’t he been to see me?’
‘Because, young lady, we’re afraid what the shock might do to you if he does,’ Dr John broke in.
‘So he’s happy to stay away because you say so?’
‘He’s not happy, Di,’ Bethan gave her hand one last squeeze.
‘Now why don’t you lie back on those pillows, and try to get some sleep?’
‘I slept for weeks, Dr John.’
‘That was a coma.’
‘If my husband wants to see me and I want to see him, what’s the problem?’
‘The problem is you don’t remember him.’
‘At least tell me his name,’ Diana pleaded.
‘Not one word, Bethan.’
‘I’ll go and see him, Di, and tell him you were asking about him.’ It wasn’t much of a consolation but it was all Bethan was able to offer before Dr John pushed her out of the cubicle.
‘Judy, what are you doing here?’ Angelo asked in bewilderment as he burst through the door of the café.
‘What does it look like? I’m working.’
‘Tony took you back?’
‘It’s just as well he did.’ She jerked her head towards the back room, which had been emptied of customers by two policemen, who were questioning Tony and Gabrielle.
‘Angelo,’ the younger of the two policemen called to him, ‘sorry about the circumstances.’
‘I came as soon as I got the call.’
‘I’m afrai
d we’re going to have to arrest your brother for assault.’
Angelo glanced from Tony, who was sitting, sullen and wretched, staring down at the table in front of him, to Gabrielle who was very close to tears. ‘What happened?’
‘Fred Jones –’ the policeman began.
‘The bus conductor, that Fred Jones.’
‘That’s the one. He made a crack about Miss von Stettin here; your brother took it personally and hit him. Unfortunately Mr Jones banged his head on a table on the way down. We don’t know the extent of his injuries but he’s been taken to hospital and his companions made a formal complaint. Even if they hadn’t, with Mr Jones hospitalised we have no choice but to arrest and charge your brother. Depending on Mr Jones’ recovery the charge may become more or less serious.’
‘Can Tony get bail?’
‘Not until the magistrates’ court convenes tomorrow morning. By then we should have the medical reports on Mr Jones and we’ll be better placed to know how your brother stands. Come on, Tony. We gave you ten minutes’ grace for Angelo to get here. Now he’s arrived it’s time to go.’
‘I’m sorry, Gabrielle,’ Tony mumbled as the police constables closed in either side of him. ‘I’m sorry for everything, for lying to you, for –’
‘Don’t worry about Gabrielle, I’ll look after her,’ Angelo shouted after him more for Gabrielle’s benefit than Tony’s, as the police escorted Tony through the door. Moments after they left, Liza rushed in with Alfredo.
‘We saw Tony with the police.’ Alfredo made a face as he looked around. ‘I suppose you want me to take over.’
‘For the moment.’ Angelo shook his head at Liza. ‘I’m sorry. You said you wanted to talk to me.’ He drew her into the back room away from the crowd in the front room of the café.
‘It can wait.’ She looked at Gabrielle who was still sitting alone at the table the constables had used to interview Tony. ‘As you’ve got your hands full here, I’ll meet my sisters from school and spend some time with them this afternoon.’
‘If you’re going back home, I’ll telephone you later.’
‘There’s no need. You just take care of things here. I’ll write to you tomorrow.’ Liza kissed him on the cheek.
‘And I suppose I can kiss the pictures goodbye,’ Alfredo grumbled, slopping the cup of sweet tea he’d made for Gabrielle on his own initiative, as he plonked it in front of her.
‘Good boy,’ Angelo patted his back. ‘I’ll talk to Gabrielle.’ He glanced to where she was still sitting, crestfallen and forlorn. ‘Until we know one way or the other what’s going to happen to Tony, I suppose one of us had better move into the rooms upstairs.’
‘With Gabrielle?’
‘Don’t be an idiot. I’m taking her up to the house.’
‘What about Mama?’
‘With Tony in jail we can hardly leave his girlfriend here,’ he countered irritably.
‘I suppose not. If you like, I’ll move in here, but only on condition I have three nights off a week.’ When Angelo stared at him, he mumbled. ‘I was getting sick of sharing a room with Roberto and Tony anyway.’
Charlie put down the telephone and turned to see Masha standing behind him.
‘Who were you talking to?’
‘A friend, from the war. You slept a long time.’
‘I am very lazy.’
‘Exhausted, more like it. Did you sleep well?’
‘How can you ask that when I slept in your arms for the first time in sixteen years?’
‘Mrs Lane has made food in the kitchen. Peter and I have already eaten.’
‘The second meal of the day?’
‘We’re greedy.’
‘I’d like to see the house.’
‘I would have shown it to you last night but you were tired and it was so late by the time we got here. How about doing it after you’ve eaten?’ he suggested, unnerved by her fragility which was even more obvious now she was dressed in one of the new frocks Alma had bought for her. It was pretty, blue wool with a green trim, but it was at least two sizes too large, and Masha’s face was just as pale, lined and exhausted as it had been the night before.
‘It’s such a big house,’ she commented as they passed the sitting- and dining-room doors and walked through the second sitting-room into the kitchen.
‘And in summer we’ll live in every room of it.’
They entered the kitchen to see Peter sitting at the table, finishing a meal of fried potatoes, beans and salt fish.
‘The tea’s all ready but I haven’t wet it, Mr Charlie. There’s a fruit semolina in the small top oven that needs taking out in ten minutes. If you want anything else I’d be happy to oblige.’
‘You’ve done everything there is to be done, thank you, Mrs Lane. We’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘As you wish, Mr Charlie. What about the dishes and your tea?’
‘We’ll do the dishes ourselves and with all the food in the cupboards tea won’t be a problem.’ He pulled a chair out from the table for Masha.
‘You’re looking smart, Peter,’ Masha commented. He was wearing a new shirt Charlie had given him, with a collar and tie.
‘I am going to see about a job. As a mechanic. A policeman told me about it last night.’
‘A policeman? What were you doing talking to a policeman?’ Her voice rose precariously.
‘He’s a friend of mine.’
‘You have a friend who’s a policeman. Feo, they are dangerous …’
‘Not in Pontypridd. Huw’s a nice man, Masha; you’ll like him. He saw Peter in town last night, recognised him because he looks like me, and told Peter about this job.’
‘See, I told you not to worry about me, Mama.’
‘Fish and fried potatoes?’ Charlie passed the bowls to Masha so she could help herself.
‘Thank you. It’s so strange to be here sitting in this lovely house in the middle of the day, eating, all three of us, and me having just got out of bed. I am used to working.’
‘Not today. If you want anything done in the house, ask me and I will ask Mrs Lane to do it for you tomorrow.’
‘You will have to learn English, Mama. I will teach you.’ Peter took the pudding out of the oven and spooned a sizeable portion into a bowl for himself.
‘We will not be here long enough for me to learn English.’
Charlie gave Peter a warning glance. ‘First you eat and then I will take you round the house, Masha, so you can tell me what changes you would like to make. And if you wrap up warm we can go outside. There’s a garden, it’s small but there are a few things growing there.’
‘Cherry trees?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘I so loved the cherry trees in spring, Feo. Do you remember the blossoms the year we married? People said there would be such a crop but we weren’t there to harvest it. I wonder if anyone did or if they were left to rot and fall off the trees. Or even if the cherry trees survived. Once you helped my father replace half the stock in his orchard – cherry, apple, pear .. .’
Neither interested nor embarrassed, Peter continued eating and Charlie realised just how much of the sixteen years since they’d been separated Masha had spent in the past – probably even more than him.
‘I can’t meet your mother for the first time like this,’ Gabrielle protested tearfully. ‘Not with Tony in jail.’
‘Don’t you see that because Tony is in jail and we have no idea how long he is going to be there, someone else in the family is going to have to run the café? And as that someone is going to be either me or Alfredo it would be better if one of us slept in the café and you stayed with my mother.’
‘I have made such a mess of everything. I wanted people to like me but no one does. Your mother doesn’t even want to meet me …’
‘Tony’s the one who’s made the mess, not you,’ Angelo contradicted vehemently, deliberately ignoring her comment about his mother. ‘Him and his fists, he’s always making trouble.’
‘
He has hit people before?’
‘Didn’t he hit anyone in Germany?’
‘No.’ Wide-eyed, she shook her head.
‘Then you must have been a good influence on him,’ Angelo replied shortly, not wanting to lie to her, but not wanting to elaborate about Diana either. ‘Why don’t you go upstairs and pack, and I’ll bring round the Trojan to take you, your case and that enormous box to my mother’s house?’
‘You’ll come with me?’ she asked anxiously.
‘Yes, I’ll drive you,’ he replied, thinking of Liza and the afternoon he had been looking forward to. Ronnie wasn’t the only brother Tony had annoyed to the point of never wanting to see his face again. He was beginning to think that if Tony wanted to disappear into the Foreign Legion, he’d buy the boat ticket to North Africa.
‘Well?’ Ronnie pushed his rickety chair back from the steel table in the garage office and looked to his mechanic.
‘The truth?’
‘He’s all shit and bull, as we used to say in the army.’
‘He knows more than me.’
‘No kidding!’ Ronnie almost dropped the pen he was holding.
‘Straight up. But there’s no way he’s sixteen,’ he said flatly. ‘It takes years to learn what he knows about cars. And he’s no Russian either.’
‘What do you think he is, then?’ William closed the auction catalogue he’d been studying.
‘He’s a bloody toff. I’ve met them, even driven their cars for them once or twice and he talks just like them. And another thing, he’s an odd bastard and I don’t know if I’ll get on with him.’
‘If we keep you both busy you won’t have to get on with him,’ William suggested.
‘Suppose so,’ the mechanic admitted grudgingly. ‘Since you two bought this place the work has been coming in non-stop. I told you, I can’t cope …’
‘And now you won’t have to. With Peter taking some of the load you might even find the time to train the apprentices,’ Ronnie hinted heavily.
‘Not if they’re like the dull buggers we got now. Can’t even train them to pee straight, out back. It was like wading through a bloody swimming pool in the ty bach this morning –’
‘Send Peter in.’ Ronnie cut the man short, knowing he would complain all day – and night – if he let him. ‘What do you think?’ he asked William, who had walked over to the window.
Pontypridd 07 - Spoils of War Page 32