Corner of a Small Town

by Corner of a Small Town (retail) (epub)

  Highly embarrassed, Viv shook his head and frowned. “Don’t be daft, Jack. Of course I couldn’t come. Me going to France? Mam would have a fit if I asked for the money for a holiday and I certainly don’t have enough.”

  “If Grandmother is renting a house what will there be to pay? Bring a toothbrush and a comb and we’ll provide the rest, eh, Grandmother?”

  It was a very tight-lipped Gladys who agreed. After all, with the young man in the room with them, manners forbade her to say no. “But,” she hissed in Arfon’s ear, “I’ll have a strong word to say to that young Jack. Putting me on the spot like that. Imagine what people will think of us, taking one of the workmen on holiday as if he were a friend!” Then realisation glowed on her face, lit up her bright blue eyes and she gave a regretful smile. “Jack dear. We can’t take your friend. He will be required to manage business or we simply can’t go.”

  Viv gave a huge sigh of relief. Then he started with shock. “Me? Manage the business for two weeks?”

  “Don’t worry Viv, things are fairly quiet about now,” said Arfon.

  “But I don’t know anything about management.” Viv began to think France, even with the formidable Gladys Weston, was preferable. “I could make a real mess of things.”

  “Rubbish, boy,” Arfon counted off on his fingers, saying, “No credit, not for anyone except those already approved and with a monthly account, you know the rule. Two, money to the bank every evening without fail. Three, daily books to be kept up to date. Four, if there’s a run on anything as people start to tidy up their houses for Christmas you must reorder. You know the wholesalers and I’ll leave all the addresses you’ll need. Just remember those four things and try not to burn the place down and that will satisfy me.”

  “Once is enough, eh Grandfather?” Jack laughed. He turned to explain to Viv that years before, the whole place had been lost in a terrible fire.

  “That won’t happen again, I’ve taken every precaution,” Arfon said, glaring at his grandson. “No need for you to worry about anything as dramatic as a fire. Just do your job as efficiently as usual and you’ll have no problems.”

  “Right, then,” Viv gulped. “Right then.”

  * * *

  Nia Martin didn’t expect to see Lewis Lewis for a while now that he knew his daughter was about to start work in the shop. During the years the affair had been going on, their meetings had been erratic but it had been rare for a week to pass without a few hours spent together. Two weeks apart had been the longest time ever.

  She had often thought about how she would cope now that her affair was public knowledge. The reality, however, was worse than she could ever have imagined. She greeted each customer that first week wondering whether they knew and were laughing at her. Forty-eight and being caught out like an immature schoolgirl with her first spotty paramour! It was so ridiculous. So undignified.

  Although only a few made some sarcastic reference to the incident or attempted a humorous comment, it was impossible for Nia not to believe that every serious face was held in check only until they closed the door before bursting into malicious laughter. It was Friday and the first humiliating week was almost over. Barry was coming in for her to leave early, keeping up a pattern that, in the past, had often included Lewis.

  She wondered if it had been as bad for Lewis and suspected not. The man is considered a bit of a lad, whereas the woman was burdened with the guilt. She had heard from those who delighted in adding to her misery that Dora had thrown him out and that he was lodging in a small bedroom in The Firs boarding house, from where he pleaded with his wife to be allowed to return. She didn’t add to speculation by telling people he had pleaded with her too. If she did there would be a constant discussion on who would give in to his pleading first!

  “They always choose the wife in the end, though, don’t they?” was the comment of more than one of her supposed friends. She hoped they were right!

  Barry didn’t come at four but she went home anyway. She glanced towards the Lewises’ front door as she closed the shop. The need to see Lewis and feel his arms around her suddenly enveloped her. She pushed the sensation from her. She didn’t need Lewis or anyone else to support her, she told herself. She coped alone. But loneliness and the lack of those comforting arms refused to completely fade as she realised for the first time her role was second best. Dora had the best of it. For the first time since the affair began, more than twenty years before, she felt used and unclean.

  She tried to tell herself she hated Lewis. She would use this opportunity to end it. Cliches such as: ‘Given him the best years of my life’ and ‘What a fool to have drifted for so long’, ran through her mind to add to a sudden and strong determination to tell him goodbye. In those first seconds of decision she felt a light-headed relief. It was over and she was free. Then gloom resettled in a shower of broken memories.

  Nia had never wanted to remarry, and loving Lewis had been a perfect way to enjoy the best of both worlds. She had Barry and Joseph to care for, Lewis to give her love and affection to remind her she was still an attractive woman, and the carefree life of a reasonably wealthy single woman, with no emotional see-saws to distress and distract her from the pleasures she enjoyed: No, she told herself, frowning with the intensity of her determination, Nia Martin was capable of coping alone, she no longer needed Lewis for support.

  It was a shock therefore to bump into him as she locked the door and began to move away.

  “Lewis!” she gasped. “I thought we’d decided to stay away from each other for a while.” Her voice wavered with her fading resolution as she added, “Go away, it’s best you go. Dammit, your wife is only three doors away!”

  “I couldn’t stay away any longer, love. The past days have been hell. Open the shop again and let’s go inside.”

  Fumbling with the keys, sensing Gertie Thomas’s eyes taking it all in, telling herself it was over and she hated him, wanting him, loving him, she finally managed to reopen the shop door and, leaving the light off, they stepped inside. At once Lewis took her in his arms and kissed her hungrily.

  It was an hour later when the pair left, furtively, separately. They had hardly spoken apart from words of love. Jangled and almost tearful with the power of the emotional meeting in the dark shop, Nia knew she couldn’t go straight home. Barry and Joseph would find something to eat and go out for the evening. Barry to the shabby building where he was gradually building a photography business, and Joseph, probably to the pictures with one of his friends – perhaps even one of Lewis’s sons! Oh, it was all so crazy. The miracle was that this tangle hadn’t come to light years before.

  She went to the Blue Bird café and ordered a sandwich, a couple of cakes and a pot of tea. She ate the sandwich without tasting it and ignored the cakes. After a while she ordered more tea. The bright lights inside made it impossible to see the street. Cut off from the world, she felt like staying beside that comfortingly steamy window all night.

  * * *

  Viv Lewis was late finishing work that Friday night. Old man Arfon had been at the stores all day, pointing out things he needed to know about running the business during the time the Weston Family were in France. He was tired, his brain felt swollen and heavy, as if his skull was no longer large enough to contain it. Instead of going home he walked through the main road and went into a café for a cup of tea. Seeing Nia Martin, he hesitated, half in and half out of the door. It was so embarrassing, her being his father’s – bit of fluff.

  “You can come in, Viv, I don’t bite,” Nia said sharply.

  “No, of course. Can I sit at your table, Mrs Martin?”

  Viv was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t slight the woman by ignoring her, or even pass her table without sitting there. Red in the face, feeling that every eye was on him, he asked weakly if he could buy her a cake.

  She smiled her thanks and offered him those she had bought. Nervously chomping his way through dry rock cakes, sweating with embarrassment, he told her why he was
late. Explaining about the Weston Family going to France and leaving him in charge, he couldn’t resist boasting about the heavy responsibility he was about to undertake.

  She didn’t tell him she’d already heard the news from his father.

  “This is a wonderful opportunity to show what you’re made of, Viv. I’m sure the experience will be valuable.”

  “I’ll be dealing with the banking, and the day-books, as well as ordering fresh stock when necessary, Mrs Martin. I’m quite excited about it, really.”

  “And a bit scared?” she asked.

  “Well, all right, a bit,” he admitted.

  “Although it isn’t the same business, I’ve been running my business by myself for about twenty years, Viv. If you think I can help with a problem, please let me know. I’d be happy to help.”

  “Thanks. Mam and Dad say they’ll sort me out if – sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned them. Sorry Mrs Martin.”

  Nia smiled and touched his hand lightly. “I think you’ll manage perfectly well without needing any of us.”

  “Thank you Mrs Martin.”

  “Talking about managing, what d’you think of Rhiannon running Temptations for me? Like the Westons, I feel the need to get away. A long break somewhere where no one knows me is what I want.”

  “Give a chance for memories to fade, is it?”

  “Give time for people to forget, and me time to lick my wounds.”

  Blushing furiously, sweat popping out on his forehead, Viv said, “But don’t stay away, Mrs Martin. You can’t let gossip drive you from your home.”

  Nia stood to leave. “You’re right. Thank you. I promise I won’t.”

  * * *

  It took a great deal of preparation for Rhiannon to begin working in Temptations. Organising the new routine meant persuading others to contribute to the running of the house. Eleri had been used to having a meal prepared. She escaped from much of the housework too, apart from clearing up after the evening meal and setting the table for breakfast.

  “I’ll get the dinner on Sundays and Mondays,” she offered. “It’s about time I began to learn anyway, I’ve leaned on you far too long.”

  “Oh no! Please, no!” Lewis-boy teased. “My delicate stomach is about to be practised on! It’s enough to make a man leave home!” He hugged his wife to take the sting from his teasing and winked at Rhiannon. “You’ll have to watch out, mind. My wife might soon be teaching you a thing or two. Clever girl my Eleri. Seriously, Rhiannon, I’ll help when I can. But I do work long hours.”

  With Viv promising to take over the job Lewis-boy was supposed to do and keep the house supplied with chopped firewood and replenish the coal scuttles each evening, Rhiannon thought that the house would continue to run without much confusion. Mam was erratic with her offers of help. She meant well but would often be too exhausted to carry out her promises. It will be Eleri who supports me, Rhiannon decided. She silently thanked her lucky stars that Lewis-boy had married such a kindly, gentle girl. With two brothers, it was wonderful to have a sister-in-law who was as close as a sister.

  Chapter Four

  Rhiannon had been so involved with arrangements to keep the household running when she started work, she hadn’t given much thought to actually working with Nia Martin. Fairness made her amend the words in her head as she reminded herself that Nia was only partly responsible for the breakup of her parent’s marriage. Dad could hardly have been forced into it.

  Thoughts about it embarrassed her: she could hardly imagine her dad and another woman. She was irritated when an incipient blush warmed her face. If she were to colour up just thinking about them together, she wouldn’t last long working with Nia Martin at Temptations, would she? There would be comments and jokes to contend with, and she would have to watch her own tongue and avoid certain subjects. She began to have misgivings. Why had Mam agreed to taking her the job?

  “Mam,” she said, when Dora came in from her collecting. “Are you sure you don’t mind me working with – you know who? I can tell her I’ve changed my mind if you like, get another job, something similar but not with her?

  “You go, it doesn’t bother me. She’s welcome to your father if she wants him. I don’t! Carrying on with a woman like her. And it’s years, not a brief flighty fling, mind! When I think of them–” She stopped and hugged Rhiannon. “Sorry, love. I forgot who I was talking to. This is nothing for you to dwell on. Your dad’s left us and that’s all you need to remember. Manage fine we will. Your earning a bit of money and getting experience will help and, after a couple of weeks, you won’t have to see that Nia Martin, you can pretend she’s gone away.”

  “She is going away. Barry said she was planning a long holiday.”

  “I wonder if your dad’ll be carrying her bags!” Dora muttered.

  “That isn’t likely, Mam. Living in a small room he is and hating it,” Rhiannon said softly. “Nowhere near – her.” Taking courage, she added, “He didn’t go to Nia Martin, Mam, he’s there in that awful room waiting for you to forgive him and take him back.” Seeing the anger flare in her mother’s piercing blue eyes, Rhiannon thought it politic to return to the cooking and she quickly left the room before her mother could reply.

  As she mashed the boiled potatoes to make fish cakes, she decided she would have to divide her time and her loyalties like her father had done. At home she would support Mam. With dad she would be a comfort; at Temptations she would swiftly rebuff any attempt from customers to criticize Nia Martin. That her protection of Nia might gain admiration from Barry wasn’t part of the decision, she insisted to herself. It wasn’t. But it was exciting nevertheless to think about working side by side with him.

  * * *

  The hours spent working in Temptations and organising the running of the house quickly settled into a well-organised routine. After the first days, when Nia rarely appeared and Barry stood with her to guide her, Nia began to spend more time in the shop and, to Rhiannon’s relief, there was no embarrassment. Gertie Thomas went out disappointed when she asked Rhiannon how things were between herself and Lewis’s ‘fancy piece’. Rhiannon and Nia were soon sharing a smile each time some remark was made about the affair. Rhiannon coolly weighed Gertie’s sweets, cut out the coupons, remarked on the weather and pretended not to hear anything else.

  “It’s happy working here,” Rhiannon told Nia at the end of her first week. “I think confectionery must be one of the most enjoyable businesses. Everyone goes out happy, don’t they?”

  “Except Gertie Thomas who comes hoping to pick up some gossip to spread,” Nia chuckled. “She’s met her match though, with you and me!”

  “I wouldn’t let your Joseph help here, mind,” Rhiannon laughed. “He’s a terrible tease and there’s no knowing what he’d tell her!”

  Rhiannon continued to run the family home just as before. At first, Dora did a little more to help her daughter cope with the housework and cooking, but the insurance round involved hours of patient bookwork so her evenings were filled with keeping the ledgers up to date. As days passed, her involvement lessened until the many chores were once more Rhiannon’s responsibility. On her afternoon off, Dora wasn’t surprised when Rhiannon announced she would go for a walk. She had always enjoyed walking near the sea. Dora guessed that this time her daughter’s walk would take her to The Firs. She noticed with wry amusement the cottage pie hidden in the pantry, obviously intended as Rhiannon’s gift for her father.

  Dora was philosophical about her children’s visits to Lewis. She had neither the inclination nor the right to expect them to turn away from a father they loved because of his dishonesty towards her and their marriage.

  She missed Lewis and wished a solution could be found that would allow him to return. After all, his eye for women wasn’t something new. Even before they were married he had been tempted to roam. Her mother had warned her that although it was flattering to have a husband other woman admired, hers would never be a relaxed and easy life. Her mother had been right. Sh
e looked back over the years since she had known him and remembered just a few of the persistent women anxious to tempt him away from her.

  Sadness took the sharpness from her face as she recalled those who had succeeded, albeit only temporarily, to make him forget his marriage vows and slip away from her. He always came back though, she had forgiven him, so why was this affair with Nia Martin so different? There was the horror that everyone had known, that people had been laughing at her, making snide remarks behind her back that really cut deep. Humiliation was a cruel thing to cope with, especially now, when, past forty, she felt less able to fight back.

  Her eyes filled with sudden tears. Self-pity was not something she usually indulged in but today, with Lewis separated from her and her daughter creeping away to visit him so she wouldn’t be hurt, it was all too much. After all they had coped with together it was so stupid for it to end like this. She blinked back tears, the fierceness returning to her bright blue eyes as she took out the flour and suet and the pathetic remains of the small joint – which had only been a few small lamb chops to start with.

  The suet from around the kidneys of the lamb had been an under-the-counter gift from the butcher and although she wasn’t much good at pastry, she had promised Rhiannon she would make a pie. She sighed. Everything ended up in a pie these days, it was the only way to make the ridiculously small ration of meat feed the family.

  She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Red crinkly hair, pale complexion, blue wild-looking eyes and already a smear of flour across her cheek. She reached for her handbag and touched her face with rouge, replenished her dark red lipstick. No need to look like a washed out old women, even if she felt like one. She felt marginally better and gave a deep sigh. She had better get on with this pie and stop feeling sorry for herself if they were to have a hot meal. Perhaps she ought to do her best to make it appetising, she mused, a slice of it would probably be spirited away by Rhiannon to end up at The Firs.