Pontypridd 01 - Hearts of Gold

Home > Other > Pontypridd 01 - Hearts of Gold > Page 23
Pontypridd 01 - Hearts of Gold Page 23

by Catrin Collier


  ‘Sure you don’t mean mincemeat?’ Joey interrupted.

  Eddie turned to the old man in surprise. He’d forgotten he was there.

  ‘You want to win fights, boyo? You stay away from women. That’s my advice. Women concentrate the blood where it’s not needed or wanted in a fight. And they stop it from flowing to where it is.’

  ‘Can you see Bethan anywhere?’ Eddie asked, embarrassed again.

  ‘She said she’d be here this afternoon, and that means she will,’ Haydn reassured him.

  A voice boomed from the centre of the ring.

  ‘Here we have Big Bad Brutal Billy …’

  Joey pressed close to Eddie. ‘This is where you start fighting, boy. Watch. Eyes and ears. Remember. Eyes and ears. Listen to the ref. Watch their boy’s movements, think about his training. After you’ve seen two or three of the Captain’s lads you’ll be able to pick out their weaknesses. And there are always weaknesses. Knowing your opponent is half the battle, boy. And when you know enough to take him on, we’ll make our move. And not on one of your venture five bob, win a quid challenges either.’

  ‘Five bob. Only five bob a challenge. Any man who can go for more than five minutes in the ring with Bad Billy Bater and stay on his feet gets a crisp, crackling pound note. Now who’s going to be the first taker to down this man?’

  The crowd gasped as Big Billy stepped over the ropes into the ring and stripped off his robe.

  He was an enormous hulk of a man. His face battered, his back and chest above his shorts black and blue from the punches he’d taken in the last town. He grinned vacantly at the crowd and held his hands high.

  ‘Please, Joey. Let me have a go at this one,’ Eddie pleaded, dreading the encounter but anxious to have it over and done with at the same time.’

  ‘Not yet, boy. Not yet.’ Joey put his arm round Eddie’s shoulders. ‘See those bruises. No boxer worth his salt would let an opponent get close enough to leave marks like that. His brain’s gone. No medals to be won battering a has been like Bad Billy. He’s Captain Dekker’s punchbag. The real talent comes out with the five-pound offer not the quid. Remember. Eyes and ears, boy. Eyes and ears.’

  Eddie leaned uneasily against one of the posts that held the canvas ceiling over the booth. Haydn put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a packet of PK. He offered one to his brother. Waiting was definitely the worst part of this game.

  ‘Andrew’s kept your existence quiet enough. But then he always was tight lipped about his girlfriends, even when he practically lived with us in London. Heaven knows why, because I’ve been dying to have a sister-in-law.’ Fiona Campbell White, nee John, pressed her hand over Bethan’s as they sat together in the back seat of Andrew’s car. ‘There’s so many things I could tell a sister-in-law that I couldn’t tell a brother,’ she confided in a voice that carried to Andrew.

  ‘Perhaps now Bethan can see why I’ve kept her away from you for so long.’ Andrew changed gear, ready to climb the hill to the Common.

  ‘Why, dear brother?’ Fiona purred sweetly. ‘Were you afraid that I’d tell her what a rotter you really are?’ She glanced slyly at Bethan.

  Bethan was amazed at the similarities between brother and sister. Fiona was a beautiful feminine version of Andrew. They both had the same tawny eyes, smooth tanned skin, and glossy dark auburn hair. But Fiona’s curls had been tamed into the classic, perfect bob that belonged to the world of advertising posters, not real life. Expensively dressed in a tan, fur trimmed costume set off by matching crocodile skin shoes and handbag she exuded wealth and confidence with every whiff of her exotic perfume.

  Even her husband seemed to be one of her accessories. Good-looking in a smooth, matinee idol, middle-parting sort of way, he was beautifully dressed in an immaculately tailored pin-stripe suit. The whole image of well-heeled affluence that they projected contrived to make Bethan feel grubby, working-class and more inadequate than ever.

  ‘So what’s new in the medical world down here, Andrew?’ Alec Campbell-White asked heartily.

  ‘Not a lot.’

  ‘Have you decided to take up my father’s offer of a post in the surgical department of Charing Cross?’

  ‘No. Not yet.’ Andrew glanced in his mirror at Bethan who was sitting very stiffly and quietly.

  ‘Here we are, home!’ Fiona exclaimed excitedly. ‘And everything looks just the same.’

  ‘It would, wouldn’t it,’ Andrew commented wryly.

  ‘It was good of you to meet us, old boy, I know you and …’

  ‘Bethan,’ Andrew supplied.

  ‘Bethan must have had a million other things to do.’

  ‘Nothing as important as meeting my favourite brother-in-law and favourite sister. Here, let me give you a hand with the cases.’ Leaving the engine running, Andrew stepped out of the car and opened the boot.

  ‘But you are coming in, aren’t you?’ Fiona demanded of Bethan as Andrew and Alec swung the set of matching brown leather cases out of the car and into the front porch.

  ‘Afraid not, Fanny,’ Andrew answered for Bethan. ‘We’ve promised to meet friends in town but we’ll be back for dinner.’

  ‘Look forward to it, old boy,’ Alec said cheerfully as Fiona rang the doorbell. Andrew slammed the boot shut. Climbing back into the car he patted the vacant passenger seat. ‘Join me?’ he asked Bethan.

  She did as he asked, waving shyly at Fiona in return for her enthusiastic goodbyes.

  ‘I didn’t know we were dining with your family tonight,’ she said as they left the driveway for the road.

  ‘I’m sure I told you.’

  ‘And I’m sure you didn’t.’

  ‘It’s no big deal, Beth.’ Instead of turning down the road into town he steered the car along the rough road that skirted the Common and the bleak moor that surrounded the Cenotaph.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Somewhere where we can talk.’

  ‘I promised to go to the boxing booth this afternoon.’

  ‘The boxing booth!’ he exclaimed in horror. ‘Bethan, have you ever been in one?’

  ‘No, but my brother Eddie is fighting.’

  ‘In that case I’ll take you. But they don’t even open until two and nothing much happens for the first couple of hours. If I promise to get you there in the next half-hour, can we talk for ten minutes now? I want to explain …’

  ‘There’s no need to explain anything,’ she said quickly. She had a sudden premonition that jarred uneasily with his decision to introduce her to his family. He was going to London to take up the post that Alec had mentioned. Laura and Trevor were getting married and Andrew was saying goodbye. She began to shake, terrified at the thought of a future without him.

  ‘You just took me by surprise,’ she gabbled hastily. ‘You never said anything about meeting your family.’

  ‘You don’t want to meet them?’

  ‘No … yes. Of course I don’t mind meeting them. It’s just that …’ She fell silent, conscious that she was talking simply so she wouldn’t have to listen to what he had to say. He continued driving until the road ended in a narrow lane. After a mile of winding turnings and sharp corners he pulled into a lay by beside a farm gate. He switched off the engine and turned to face her. She was staring at her handkerchief, knotting its corners into tortuous shapes with her tensed fingers.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s time you met my family?’ he pressed.

  ‘It’s good of you to ask me.’

  ‘Do you or don’t you want to meet them?’ He lifted her chin with his finger, forcing her to look at him.

  ‘If you want the truth, I’m scared to death of meeting them,’ she admitted.

  ‘Why, Beth? You already know my father, and my mother’s sweet and old-fashioned. Not in the least bit modern or strident like Fanny.’

  ‘Sounds to me as if you don’t like Fiona very much,’ she observed neatly, attempting to divert his attention from his father.

  How on earth could he say t
hat she knew his father? Nurses bowed their heads in the hospital when the senior doctor passed. Andrew talked about him as if they were used to exchanging pleasantries.

  ‘Take no notice of Fanny,’ he said glibly. ‘Sibling rivalry. We’ve hated each other since cradle days.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘No reason at all. Don’t you hate your brothers and sister?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh dear. I had no idea you belonged to a perfect family.’

  ‘My family’s anything but perfect.’

  ‘At last. We have something in common.’

  ‘Imperfect families?’

  ‘Come to dinner? Please?’ he smiled. ‘I’d lose all credibility with Fanny if you didn’t. And I told my mother to expect you.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘This morning.’

  ‘I could have made other arrangements.’

  ‘I asked you to keep the whole day clear.’

  ‘All right, I’ll have dinner with your family tonight.’ She summoned up her courage. ‘On one condition,’ she blurted out quickly before she could change her mind.

  ‘Name it.’

  ‘After we’ve been to the Rattle Fair you take me home to change, then you can meet my family first.’ She wanted to add, “so you can see who and what I really am” but pride held her back. If he really loved her, home, background and family would make no difference.

  ‘I thought you were never going to invite me,’ he smiled. ‘Now that’s settled how about picking up where we left off in the station.’ He cupped his hands around her face. Drawing her close he kissed her, effectively preventing her from voicing any of the mass of questions that slithered through her mind. But his lovemaking failed to still her doubts. Was he leaving? Going to London? If so why did he want her to meet his family? Yesterday he’d said he loved her. Was that a trite, meaningless remark – a product of passion – of the moment? Or the truth? Laura and Trevor were to marry and they …

  ‘I don’t think we’d better go too far down this road,’ he said huskily pulling away from her. ‘Not here. Not in daylight.’ He buttoned her blouse and jacket. ‘Of course,’ he murmured, looking into her eyes, ‘I could take you home this way tonight after dinner, or better still invite you to my rooms.’

  She thought of what Laura had said. “Are you sure you’re not having me on about you and Andrew?”

  Was that the way to become an indispensable part of a man’s life? Because if it was … ‘I’d like that,’ she agreed softly.

  He smiled as he reached for the starting handle. He’d always dwelt on the differences between Bethan and the other girls he’d spent time with. But there were similarities too. And it was reassuring to know that once warmed up a Welsh chapel girl wasn’t that far removed from her London counterpart after all.

  The boxing booth was warm, humid and airless beneath the thick canvas walls and ceiling. The atmosphere within was gloomy in the half light, heavy with unhealthy excitement and the fetid smell of stale, male sweat. Andrew paid the shilling admission fees for himself, Trevor, Laura and Bethan to ensure they’d get a seat on the benches. Those who paid sixpence were fortunate if they got standing room that allowed them to see over the heads of the ex-professional and amateur boxers who’d laid claim to the prime area around the ring.

  ‘Can you see Eddie anywhere?’ Bethan asked Laura anxiously.

  ‘Once we’re on the benches we’ll get a better view.’ Trevor wrapped his arm protectively around Laura’s shoulders. ‘This really is no place for women.’

  ‘And why not?’ Laura demanded, spoiling for an argument after the stresses and strains of the afternoon.

  ‘If you’re serious about marrying this lady you have to learn that anything a man can do a woman, particularly this woman,’ Andrew pointed at Laura with his wallet as he pushed it back into his inside pocket, ‘can do better.’

  ‘Not boxing,’ Trevor said firmly.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Andrew mused airily. ‘Would you fancy going three rounds with Squeers?’

  Bethan giggled as a sudden, very real image of Squeers in boxing shorts and vest sprang to mind.

  ‘The moment we’ve all been waiting for, gentlemen … and ladies.’ Jim Dekker himself stepped into the ring. He bowed towards Laura and Bethan and the bench where Doris and Daisy were still sitting. ‘The supreme challenge and the supreme purse of the day. A single, crisp five pound note for any man brave enough to step into the ring with Dekker’s champion. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s have a round of applause for Daring Dan Darcy.’ He swung round and a tall, well-built man climbed into the ring behind him. Holding his gloved hands high to the shouts and applause of the crowd, Daring Dan took his bow.

  ‘God, how the mighty have fallen,’ Trevor murmured under his breath.

  ‘Blasphemy.’ Laura nudged him in the ribs.

  ‘It’s starting,’ Andrew warned Trevor. ‘Another month and you’ll be wearing a ball and chain.’

  ‘What did you mean about the mighty falling?’ Bethan asked, nervously scanning the crowd for a glimpse of Eddie as she took her seat.

  ‘Ever heard of Dan Farrell?’ Trevor replied.

  ‘No. Should I have?’

  ‘Five years ago he was the best. Tipped for world champion. And that’s him now.’ Trevor nodded towards the ring, where Dan had stripped off his robe and was flexing his biceps.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Could be any one of a number of things. Drink, high living …’

  ‘Women?’ Andrew suggested innocently.

  ‘Are you going to hit him, Bethan, or shall I?’ Laura enquired frostily.

  ‘Vicious too,’ Andrew continued to tease Trevor.

  ‘Come on, lads, don’t be shy,’ Jim Dekker shouted. ‘First man to stay on his feet for three rounds with Daring Dan takes the pot. Five pounds. Who’ll be the first taker? Five pounds for ten bob entrance fee.’

  ‘Oh no you don’t, Dekker,’ Joey shouted. ‘You don’t pull that one. Not in this town. It’s five not ten bob.’

  ‘Trying to put an honest man out of business, Joey?’ Jim bit back humorously.

  ‘Fair’s fair,’ someone in the crowd heckled.

  ‘It’s always been five bob,’ Joey retorted sharply.

  ‘Fair’s fair,’ the same man chanted.

  ‘Show me your challenger,’ Jim answered. ‘And I’ll show you what’s fair.’

  ‘Here.’ Joey pushed Eddie’s hand up, and Bethan started almost falling off the bench.

  ‘That your brother?’ Andrew asked, trying to size up Eddie’s chances.

  ‘That’s my brother.’ Bethan fought back the tears that welled into her eyes.

  ‘Seeing as how he’s a nipper, Joey, I’ll allow him a try at five bob,’ Jim Dekker conceded. ‘Over here, lad.’ He pointed to the peg where contenders could hang their clothes.

  Bethan watched Haydn follow Eddie to the corner of the booth. Then she saw her father push his way through the crowd towards the boys. The bookie who fixed the odds on the fights and made the real money for Dekker eyed Eddie carefully as he stripped off his suit, shirt and tie. He was wearing his shorts under his trousers.

  ‘I never realised Eddie was so skinny, Beth,’ Laura whispered in a voice that carried above the hubbub of noise.

  ‘Neither did I.’ Bethan paled as she compared her brother’s underdeveloped figure with that of the seasoned boxer who was preening and parading in the ring.

  The bookie, hat pushed back on his head at a rakish angle, sidled up to Andrew. ‘Enjoying yourself, sir?’ he enquired.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Andrew replied with an amused glance at Trevor.

  ‘Men of substance like yourselves,’ he touched his hat to Trevor, ‘tend to enjoy the sport a little better if they’ve a small matter on the outcome. If you know what I mean?’

  ‘We know what you mean,’ Andrew muttered under his breath, putting the poor man out of his misery. ‘What are the odds?’

  ‘Ten to o
ne against the youngster pulling it off, sir.’

  Andrew took out his wallet. ‘Tenner on the challenger, all right?’ he asked, folding a note into the bookies palm. The man glanced at Eddie to check his prognosis. He nodded and slipped his hand into his pocket.

  ‘I want to put some money on too.’ Bethan fumbled in her handbag.

  The bookie looked anxiously around the booth at all the heads tall enough to be policemen. Andrew put his hand into his wallet again. ‘Fiver for the lady.’

  ‘Andrew …’

  ‘Pay me later.’ He pocketed the slips the bookie handed him. The man moved on past Trevor, who handed him a pound from the people sitting behind them. Bethan stared at Haydn and Eddie, willing them with all her might to look at her. But as her

  Father reached them they went into a huddle with Joey, the crowd closed in and they were lost to view.

  ‘We’re in the wrong business,’ Andrew observed as he watched the bookie circle the booth. ‘He must have taken the best part of fifty pounds in the last five minutes.’

  ‘He’ll be in the wrong business if Bethan’s brother wins,’ Trevor replied. ‘Is he good, Bethan?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Worried about the five pounds that Andrew had handed over so glibly and that she had no hope of repaying if he lost, she couldn’t bring herself to think about his prospects. ‘If the way he talks is anything to go by, he’s brilliant.’

  ‘Believing in yourself is half the battle with a boxer,’ Trevor commented.

  ‘You know a lot about boxing all of a sudden.’ Laura eyed Trevor suspiciously.

  ‘Used to box in medical college.’

  ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘Now why should I joke about something like that?’

  Ignoring the bickering Andrew closed his hand over Bethan’s. ‘They stop these things long before anyone gets really hurt,’ he asserted quietly.

  ‘I’ve seen just how careful they are,’ she answered scathingly ‘Eddie’s been beaten to pulp in the gym once. Perhaps it would be different if he could get a steady job. It’s not as if he hasn’t tried, but his efforts don’t seem to get him anywhere, and now he sees this as a way out.’

 

‹ Prev