“Dad, why don’t you come to the shop and at least look at what needs to be done?” he pleaded.
“It’s Viv Lewis’s fault,” Islwyn muttered. “He did this to us. And you thought he was a friend of yours! Never make friends with those beneath you. Keeping your station in life is the only way to keep your respect.” Islwyn said the same things time after time, repeating in different words the same sentiment, until Jack wanted to hit him. As he left, his father brightened up and Jack paused hopefully but all Islwyn said, was, “Viv Lewis caused all this, Jack. You should never have been his friend.”
His attempt to coax old man Arfon Weston to do something before it was too late was no more successful.
“It’s gone, boy,” Arfon sighed. “All I’ve built up. When I think of the years and years spent working all the hours I could stay awake I could cry, boy. Dedicated my life to that business I did and now it’s gone, because of that Viv Lewis.”
“It wasn’t you who caused the downfall of the business by setting fire to the place?” Jack was brought to sarcasm by the tedious repetitions. “Or Dad, by stealing from the firm?
“It wasn’t the fire, boy, or the stealing. It was being found out! And who’s that down to? Viv bloody Lewis, that’s who! Now why couldn’t it have been Frank or Ernie Griffiths? I’d have been able to talk them round, no trouble. That work-shy lot would do anything for a few pounds. No, if Viv hadn’t reported finding that letter, and got the police in to investigate the books, your father and I wouldn’t be hovering like criminals, afraid to go out, waiting to defend ourselves in court.”
“But you’re guilty! You are criminals!” Jack was exasperated.
“Jack! How can you say that?”
“Because it’s true!”
“It would have been all right if it hadn’t been for Viv Lewis,” Arfon insisted.
Jack pleaded for him to go and look at the shop and at least decide on what could be done to save it but, like his father, all his grandfather said, was, “That Viv Lewis has the fault. Not me.”
By the time Jack had stopped at three pubs and drank several pints and several whisky chasers he had convinced himself his grandfather and father were right and it was Viv who was responsible for the collapse of the family business.
He walked into The Railwayman’s and, seeing Viv laughing and joking with the usual crowd, he pushed his way through the tables and chairs and aimed a blow at his chin.
Viv thought he was playing the fool and jeered, “Looking for a fight to make you feel better about the fortunes of the mighty Westons, Jack?”
Jack’s response was to strike out again, this time meeting Viv’s chin with a straight jab that made Viv reel.
“Steady on, Jack! What’s got into you?”
“You! You call yourself a friend? You don’t know the meaning of friendship! Why didn’t you come to me with your story about that letter, eh?”
“Because I couldn’t resist seeing your grandfather rattled. Not nice I know, but I wanted it, Jack.”
Again Jack went to hit him, but he was weakened and irresolute and he was held amid laughter by Basil and his brothers. Onlookers gathered and the landlord walked purposefully across to ask them to leave. But before he could do so, Viv looked at Jack and said, “I don’t have a solution to keep them out of the courts, but I do think I can help.”
“Help make him squirm some more?” Jack replied belligerently.
“No, but I believe I can save the business.”
Viv sat down and as Jack sank into a chair opposite, Viv waved away the landlord, who stood undecided for a moment, then returned to the bar.
Quietly and carefully, Viv offered a solution. Gradually sobered by Viv’s suggestion, Jack heard him out, then said, “They’d never agree.”
“They might, if you put it to them.”
* * *
Flowers arrived at frequent intervals for Rhiannon. Knowing they were from Jimmy Herbert, she thanked the young man who delivered them and put them aside. She had enjoyed going out with Jimmy but couldn’t see him again, knowing how he and his associates had enjoyed the stories about her father. He called at the shop twice, with special offers on various confectionery but she was formal, dealing with him as she would a stranger with a business proposition.
Twice when he called, Barry was there and she found she was a little more pleasant with Jimmy than intended, and then she felt guilty of teasing and was even more angry with her father for putting her in this dreadful position.
Barry thought the friendship was continuing and was cool towards Rhiannon. Until the wedding.
Eleri and Basil were married at the register office on St Valentine’s Day. And although there weren’t many at the ceremony, it being a Saturday morning when most people were at work, this was rectified later, when crowds gathered at the Griffithses’ for an evening of celebration.
The fare was not varied, just sandwiches and pickled onions, and some small cakes, brought by several of the guests. The sandwiches were surprisingly good. Besides corned beef and a few of cheese, there were three platefuls filled with roast chicken. The legality of the latter was in doubt when several guests found shot in the tender meat.
“Basil…?” Eleri asked with a quizzical look.
“Well, I’d had a bad night and hadn’t got a thing. Then, as dawn was breaking, I was coming back through Flaker’s farm and these poor chickens were wandering around in the field. Prey to foxes they’d be, so I just took a casual shot or two. I was a bit close though, so there was a lot of shot in them. Mam thought she’d got it all out.”
“You take such risks, Basil.”
“I wanted us to have a bit of a feast. Why not, on our wedding day?”
“Why not,” she smiled. “As long as you don’t spend all our money paying fines!”
After closing Temptations, Rhiannon went home to change to go to the wedding party. She left the house in a smart new slim-fitting dress and matching jacket in pale blue. The prospect of rain made her carry a coat over her arm, and to keep her long hair tidy she wore a head scarf of pale blue. She knew her outfit was rather formal for a party at the Griffithses’, but because she had been unable to attend the wedding she felt she had to make an effort, and show Eleri she had taken extra trouble on this special evening.
When she stepped outside, Barry was just starting his van and he flashed the headlights and called to her, offering a lift. She didn’t want to ride with him. Her instinct was to stay away from situations where they were alone, but it seemed ridiculous to walk when Barry was driving to the same place.
She was conscious of the tightness of her skirt as she sat in the big passenger seat beside him and tried unsuccessfully to pull it lower.
“You look lovely,” he said.
Disconcerted, she could only say ungraciously, “I wish I’d worn something more comfortable.”
He talked about the wedding and the photographs he had taken. “I hope to get plenty more this evening, I thought I’d make an ‘Album of Friends’ rather than the formal collection, what d’you think?”
“I think that’s a lovely idea. For a second wedding and with both sets of in-laws present, a perfect solution.”
“Will the in-laws be there? I mean your father,” he added.
“I doubt it and hope not!”
They had arrived by this time so he couldn’t ask more questions, and when she stepped out of the van, hastily adjusting her skirt, Jimmy commandeered her and led her into the throng.
“What are you doing here?” Rhiannon asked.
“Surprise surprise. I asked your Viv to wangle me an invitation.”
“How did you do that? I didn’t think you knew him?”
“I don’t. I asked your father to ask him for me.”
At mention of her father, Rhiannon’s smile faded and she left Jimmy to go and congratulate the happy couple. Jimmy tried to follow her but was pushed aside by Barry, who grasped her hand firmly.
“Your father is coming,”
he told her, “and your mother threatens to leave when he arrives, so don’t add to the tension. It’s Eleri and Basil’s special day remember, and Caroline and her mother have worked for three days getting this party organised.”
The sharpness of his tone startled her. “How I treat my parents is nothing to do with you Barry Martin!”
“Your misbehaving and spoiling the evening is!” he retorted.
She pushed past him and looked around the laughing crowd for Jimmy, smiling provocatively at him, aware that once more she was giving him hope when there was none. She beckoned him over. Barry held her hand until Jimmy reached them, then let it go as if it was burning him and went to join Hywel and his sons Frank and Basil, and Ernie near the barrel in the kitchen.
The room had been changed to accommodate the extra people, many of whom had not been officially invited. The television had been relegated to a shed to make room for more seating. Temporary seats, made of sawn-off sections of a tree trunk, stood on end and were stacked in a corner and under the table and those who were regulars grabbed one and found a small area to sit.
Caroline brought the baby down as soon as her mother-in-law Nia arrived, so he could be photographed with the rest.
“One for the album, so we can tell him how well he behaved,” Barry smiled. Again, Rhiannon felt that unpleasant kick of jealousy. Specially when Basil took the camera and photographed the family of three together.
If Dora saw Nia she pretended not to, although several guests saw them glance at each other from time to time. “Like a couple of terriers spoiling for a fight,” Viv chuckled.
Basil pretended to open a book on the probable winner and Janet and Hywel watched the door for the arrival of Lewis and hoped he had been unavoidably detained.
Amid the laughter and the good-natured teasing Rhiannon was miserable and she was unable to decide on the reason. Perhaps it was the celebratory mood, or the presence of Barry, or simply the mysterious melancholy that weddings sometimes create. Weddings were a milestone and for her the road was leading inexorably to a barren future.
Eleri and Basil had found a flat and Dora was already aware of a subtle difference in her home. Number seven Sophie Street had a hollowness about it, having shed the presence of her daughter-in-law; who could no longer be given that title, she thought sadly.
At eleven o’clock, when the cutting of the cake was imminent, Rhiannon saw her father arrive, saying he had just driven back from Aberystwyth. She couldn’t face him. Not with Jimmy Herbert there knowing all his worst secrets. It was best if she slipped away now. It had to be without Jimmy seeing. She didn’t want him to walk her home. That suggested a good-night kiss and the possibility of a date. She had to tell him firmly that she was no longer interested, but tonight was not the time.
Finding her coat amongst the muddle on the bed, she held it over her arm and went down the stairs and out of the back door. As she closed the door behind her it quickly reopened and Barry followed her.
“Won’t Eleri wonder why you didn’t stay for the cutting of the cake?” he demanded.
“Barry, why are you so angry with me?”
“I thought you had more guts!” he said, “Or is it this Jimmy Herbert? Embarrassed he’ll find out what your father’s like and chuck you? Is that it?”
“He knows. He was amusing me one day by telling me the exploits of a rep who works for his firm. Oh yes, he knows it all, Dad’s past and present affairs, and the way the younger ones laugh behind his back and call him a dirty old man!” Tears were close and Barry reached out and held her.
“I’m sorry, Rhiannon. I’ve been so jealous, and knowing I haven’t the right to do anything about it is driving me wild.”
She pushed him away reluctantly. “Jimmy might see us and then there’d be more fun to be had out of the Lewis family’s carryings on. That wouldn’t do, would it?”
“Carryings on? God how I wish we were! I was stupid to accept your refusal without talking it through. And I should never have married Caroline out of some false loyalty to Joseph.”
“It’s done and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“I want you to wait for me, but I can’t ask it.” Without waiting for her response he led her back into the house. “Come on, just show yourself long enough for me to get a few photographs of this lot stuffing themselves with cake and I’ll drive you home.”
* * *
Dora watched as Lewis waved to a few friends then gradually moved through the throng nearer and nearer to Nia. Like a bee to honey, she thought contemptuously. So irresistible to him that even being repeatedly stung hadn’t cured him!
Closer and closer he moved, exchanging a few words to some, smiling politely at others, trying to look as if nearness to Nia was not his intention. When he was close enough he muttered a few words in her ear and Nia gave an almost imperceptible nod. Then Lewis moved on out into the kitchen where the men, predictably, had gathered.
That they had made some arrangement to meet, Dora didn’t doubt. She wondered why they attempted secrecy when there was no real need? Both of them were separated, Nia’s new husband having returned to London, and everyone knew, so they could meet openly. That they didn’t, suggested Lewis was keeping some options open. He might need to come back home. Not one to burn bridges was Lewis!
Weddings are occasions when people look back and Dora was no exception. She sat amid the noisy revellers and wondered when it had started to go wrong for her and Lewis, or if it had ever been right!
Drifting through her memories of their stormy marriage, she saw herself repeatedly blaming him for having given up her baby as an excuse for her bad temper. Had she really been as bad as she now remembered? Certainly she hadn’t been soft and womanly like – she glanced at Nia and added silently – like Nia. Perhaps that was what had driven Lewis back into her arms so soon after they were married.
All these years she had been poisoning her marriage by her bitterness over the child she had never known. Rejecting Lewis and piling on the guilt. As if anything could change it now! Even if she succeeded in finding the child, the years between wouldn’t return and the poison she had spread wouldn’t go away.
* * *
Later, when Barry’s van pulled up outside the house, Rhiannon jumped down and ran in without a word. Locking the door behind her was locking herself away from any chance of love, marriage and future happiness. She saw a future where she stayed with Dora and settled early into middle age.
Damn her father and his unreasonable need for women!
As she climbed the stairs, the silence of the house mocked her. Her reflection in the mirror showed her a silly young woman who had allowed pride and anger to thus far ruin her life. It woke her out of her foolishness.
This house wasn’t her life. Life was out there waiting for her behind the door she had willingly locked. Well she could just as willingly unlock it. At nineteen, she could do anything. Life here, as a companion for her mother, seemed suddenly ludicrous. She threw off the new suit and jumped into bed filled with new exhilaration. Barry might be mourning his lost chances but that role wasn’t for her. Tomorrow was going to be a wonderful new beginning.
Chapter Twelve
In early 1953 Rhiannon’s time was filled with preparations for the end of rationing. Reps called increasingly with special offers and with so many display cards they filled the back room. In her new mood of optimism, she was buzzing with enthusiasm. New stock was arriving daily, and it was wonderful to be able to order what she wanted rather than consider proportions of her allowances based on the coupons she had received. There had been empty spaces between displays for so long, now the shelves were filled with excitingly-packaged lines.
Along the front of the counter were cardboard boxes filled with Lion’s Sports Mixture and Zoo Animals for the children to buy individually, besides other half-penny and penny sweets. There were bars of Lovells French Nougat and Milky Lunches. Sherbet dabs and liquorice pipes, lollipops and fruit salad. The little sho
p sparkled with shining jars filled with multicolour choices. Fruit Drops, Old Fashioned Mixture, Barley Sugar, Treacle Toffee, Humbugs, Plush Nougats and Mintoes. Rhiannon looked around, holding a jar of Dolly Mixtures, desperate for more room. There wasn’t another inch.
Barry came in at lunch time and, seeing her struggling to balance yet another box of sweets across others, said, “I can see you wanting to extend the shop if this is what the end of rationing means.”
Although his remark was flippant, she frowned thoughtfully and said, “No, not extend, but I would like some more shelves.”
“Oh, you would, would you!”
“I’d like it to be a very small shop, but crammed as full as an egg with the best selection in the town.”
He didn’t discuss her suggestion but later that day, just as she was emptying the till ready to dose, he returned and asked, “Where would you like the shelves built?
Their relationship was what she could only describe to Eleri as good but wary. They spoke as friends but backed away from that fragile line between a working partnership and love. Rhiannon thought vaguely about the day far into the future when the knots would untangle, but wasn’t too optimistic about their relationship ending with her marrying Barry Martin. There were too many problems along the way.
* * *
Old man Arfon Weston agreed to Jack’s startling suggestion that they re-employ Viv to sort out the problems at Weston’s Wallpaper and Paint. At first he was adamant that he wouldn’t consider Viv Lewis, but under pressure from Jack and from Gladys, who saw it as a chance to recover their financial security and make money available for her girls, he gave in.
“Don’t expect me to talk with him, mind,” he warned. “If we re-employ him he’ll have to deal with Ryan and Islwyn.”
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