‘We all love you, snookems, but in the end you have to do what’s right for you,’ he murmured. ‘If you don’t, you’ll make a dog’s dinner of your life like your mother has. And,’ he closed his eyes to Rhiannon’s light. ‘And like I have,’ he whispered softly. So softly she failed to hear him.
It was deserted in the New Inn at six o’clock when Trevor walked in with Andrew.
‘She won’t come, you know,’ Trevor warned.
‘I know. But anywhere’s better than home. I couldn’t have sat with my parents for another minute …’
‘Trouble?’ Trevor raised his eyebrows. ‘They didn’t approve of you dropping the charges against Eddie?’
‘That and the few home truths I told them about getting Bethan pushed out of the Graig hospital this morning.’
‘I see. Happy families.’
‘Take note. It could be you one day.’
‘Not me, I’m going to be the perfect father.’ He faltered as Andrew paled. ‘I’ll get the drinks. What do you want? Whisky?’
‘With concussion?’
‘Should go nicely.’
‘I’ll stick to a small beer.’
Trevor went to the bar and carried the beer and a whisky over to the unobtrusive corner table that Andrew had chosen.
‘Some bachelor party. I’m sorry,’ Andrew apologised.
‘I’m meeting Laura’s brothers at seven in the Vic. If you want to come you can.’
‘Would I be welcome?’
‘With Laura’s brothers? I don’t know,’ Trevor replied honestly. ‘Feelings run pretty high in that family, and they’re all fond of Bethan. You know what Graig people are like about one of their own.’
‘I’m beginning to find out.’
‘I invited Evan Powell, Haydn, William, Charlie and Eddie as well. Haydn can’t come until later because he’s working, but it’s a fair bet the others will. Can you see yourself drinking round the same table as them?’
‘Not really. Well, here’s to you and yours.’ Andrew raised his glass, and pushed a small package across the table.
‘What’s this?’
‘Wedding present. Sorry I won’t be able to make it tomorrow but I’m catching the early train to London.’
‘I thought you had four days off.’
‘I have. I want to spend a couple of them looking for a new place. It’s time I moved on from Fe and Alec’s house.’
Trevor tore open the brown paper package and stared at the notebook it contained. He looked quizzically at Andrew.
‘I’ve booked dinners and tickets to seven shows in London. The venues, dates and times are all there. Do turn up. I’ve already paid for them. I telephoned a chap who works in my bank this afternoon to arrange it all.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Laura deserves a decent honeymoon. And we all know that your idea of an evening’s entertainment is a newspaper full of fish and chips and an evening’s stroll.’
‘Not my idea. My pockets.’
‘Enjoy yourself on me, time for one more?’ he asked, picking up the glasses.
‘Quick one.’
She walked in when he was at the bar. Her old black coat hid her figure, but she was thinner in the face, paler than he remembered.
‘I’ll see you, Andrew.’ Trevor walked into the next room, where Ronnie and William were sitting, full pints in front of them.
‘You brought bodyguards?’ Andrew said caustically. ‘For pity’s sake what did you think I was going to do to you in here of all places?’ He could have kicked himself. He hadn’t meant to open on this tack.
‘Ronnie brought me down, and he’s taking me back. Eddie and Haydn guessed where I was going and they wouldn’t let me come on my own. Not on a Saturday night, and after what happened yesterday I wouldn’t let either of them come with me. This is a compromise.’
‘Can I get you something?’
‘No thank you,’ she refused politely. ‘I can’t stay very long. Ronnie wants to go back in a few minutes. Big night, Trevor’s bachelor party.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘And I promised to spend the evening with Laura.’
‘A coffee then?’
‘No really, nothing, thank you.’
‘It appears I can’t buy any Powell a drink,’ he commented lightly, remembering her father and the pint he’d refused that afternoon.
Their conversation might have been one spoken by total strangers. But the quick, nervous movements of her hand, and his eyes betrayed their emotions. She sat in the chair Trevor had vacated.
‘You wanted to see me?’ she asked.
‘I’m sorry …’
‘I know. I read your letters. I didn’t see them until today.’
‘I meant what I said in them. I know it’s late to ask, but will you marry me?’ he said quietly, with dignity.
‘Because I’m carrying your child?’
‘Because I love you. God, when I think of what you’ve gone through … marrying Alun Jones –’
‘He didn’t touch me,’ she snapped defensively. ‘Not in the way you did.’
‘Beth, you don’t have to explain what happened. Not to me. I blame myself for all those dreadful things I said. Please, can’t we put it behind us? Won’t you come to London with me tomorrow? We’ll get married there as soon as I can arrange it.’
‘You think it’s that simple? Do you realise you’re asking me to uproot myself from everything I know. My friends. My family …’
‘I know I’m asking a lot.’
‘You’re asking too much,’ she said firmly. ‘My brothers hate you. My father’s desperately trying to be fair, but he doesn’t like you, not really …’
‘Beth, that’s your family,’ he protested. ‘Not you.’
‘Your family despise me. It’s good of you to ask, Andrew. Particularly given my background …’
‘Bethan!’
‘Please let me finish. It wouldn’t work, Andrew. We’re from different worlds.’
‘We could live in the same one in London.’
‘Even in London there’s bread and dripping and Melba toast and caviar. I’m one, you’re the other.’
‘You don’t love me any more?’
‘I don’t trust you any more, and London’s a long way from help and my family.’
‘I’d look after you, Beth. And you could come back whenever you wanted to. It’s only a day away by train.’ He wanted to change her heart and mind so much he had to restrain himself from reaching out and physically carrying her off there and then. He racked his memory, trying to remember eloquent phrases. Words with which to convince her that he was sincere.
‘When you left, my family were wonderful,’ she said quietly. ‘I realised then how lucky I was to have them. I know them. I trust them, and my father and brothers have promised to look after me and the baby after it’s born. With their support I can build a life for both of us. A good life. I hope to go back to nursing if I can. My mother will take care of the baby.’
‘You’re shutting me out,’ he said despairingly.
‘No, I’m choosing the safe option. One I know will work. One I’m familiar with.’
‘You’ll let me pay maintenance or whatever it is?’
‘For the baby when it comes.’
‘I could give you some money now.’
‘I’d rather you asked your father to influence the hospital board to look kindly on any future job applications I make.’
‘Beth, I’m sorry, I had nothing to do with that.’
‘I know.’ She rose from her chair. ‘Goodbye, Andrew, I really do have to go.’
‘You sure you won’t reconsider? I’m leaving on the eight o’clock train tomorrow. If I thought there was a chance that you’d change your mind …’
‘There’s no chance.’ She held out her hand. He took it, but instead of shaking it he held it tight.
‘Beth, does it have to end like this?’
‘Goodbye, Andrew,’ she said loudly. William and Ronni
e left their seats. Moving close to Bethan they stood behind her waiting.
‘Goodbye, Bethan,’ he whispered forlornly, as he watched her leave.
‘Drink?’ Trevor held out a fresh half-pint.
‘No thank you. I have packing to do.’ He smiled. ‘Have a good wedding tomorrow.’
‘I’ll try,’ Trevor replied, feeling utterly helpless as he watched Andrew walk out.
‘You didn’t have to wait up for us, love.’ Evan said as he walked into the house with the boys and Charlie.
‘I couldn’t sleep. Never can after a stint on nights. And judging by the state of you, it’s just as well I made some tea. You could all do with something to water it down with.’
‘Water nothing down,’ Haydn grumbled. ‘I’ve only had two pints.’
‘You’re the only one who did,’ she said, watching Charlie prop William up as he tripped over the step up to the washhouse.
‘If you think we’re bad,’ William slurred, ‘you should see Trevor.’
‘Oh God, what have you done to him?’
‘Nothing Laura won’t be able to fix tomorrow,’ William laughed maliciously.
‘Quiet,’ Bethan commanded. ‘Or you’ll wake Mam up and then we’ll all be for it.’
It took the combined efforts of Evan, Charlie and her to get the three boys to bed. But she didn’t feel tired, not even after she cleared the dishes they left.
‘You saw him then?’ Evan sat in his chair pulling on his empty pipe, watching Bethan as she moved around the room.
‘Yes.’
‘And?’
‘And nothing, Dad. After what he did I just don’t trust him any more.’
‘I see. Just answer me one thing, love,’ he said slowly. ‘Do you love him?’
‘I thought I did,’ she answered sharply.
‘And now?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said wearily, sitting on her mother’s chair.
‘You’ve sent him packing?’
She nodded her head.
‘I hope you’re not making a mistake, Beth. It’s just that the way you spoke to the boys just now, you put me in mind of your mother.’
Bethan knew he would never have made such a damning comparison if he’d been sober.
‘Don’t grow old and bitter before your time.’ He tapped his empty pipe from force of habit against the range as he left his chair. ‘It blights lives.’
He could have added “Like ours have been blighted by your mother” but didn’t. The inference hung unspoken in the air, like smoke from damp coals smouldering on a fire.
Andrew paid the porter to carry his trunk and case up from the car to the train. The platform was cold and windswept, the rain snarling in great sheets under the overhanging roof, soaking his socks and the legs of his trousers.
‘Pity about the weather,’ he said as he huddled into his coat. ‘Trevor and Laura deserve a better day.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t rush back this way,’ his father fussed.
‘I want to get back.’
‘But you’re not one hundred per cent, and there’s no real hurry. You said so yourself. You can hardly work with that head of yours.’
‘I’m well enough. And I want to use the next couple of days to look for an apartment. I can’t live with Fe and Alec for ever.’
‘You’ve upset your mother. She’s very disappointed.’
‘I’m sorry she’s disappointed. But the time has come for me to make my own decisions, and run my own life.’
‘So I see.’
‘Dad, there’s really no point in discussing this any more.’
‘If all this nonsense had been about a decent girl I might have understood it. But about the daughter of a miner …’
‘Here’s my train.’ Andrew breathed a sigh of relief, shook his father’s hand and followed the porter to the first-class carriages behind the engine.
‘We’ll see you soon,’ his father called out as Andrew stepped on board.
‘I’ll write,’ he replied briefly.
Goodbyes said, he settled down in a compartment that was mercifully empty. His trunk safely stowed above him, he stretched out and opened his small doctor’s case, extracting the newspaper he’d bought from the boy outside the station. Underneath it he saw a book, the same book he’d tried and failed to read the night he’d gone to the hospital to tell Bethan it was over between them. He’d never read it, and he didn’t want to start now. Next to it he’d packed her photograph. He picked it up and unwrapped it from the scarf he’d wound around the glass to protect it.
The whistle blew. The train moved slowly out of the station. Disconsolately he stared out of the window at the blackened brick walls that led out of the station; the dirty moss-green and bracken spattered hillsides; the tips, slag heaps, smoking chimneys of the terraced houses … everything reminded him of her. He was leaving Bethan behind and he felt as though his heart was being wrenched out of his body.
The stations passed and his newspaper remained unread. Treforest … Taffs Well …
‘I only had enough money for third class so if you want to sit with me you’re going to have to come down in the world, Dr John.’
Bethan stood in front of him in her shapeless black coat, a cardboard suitcase in her hand. A ridiculous cloche hat on her head. ‘I’ll be honest with you. I’m not at all sure that I’m doing the right thing. I’ve a feeling that I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life. I meant every word that I said to you last night …’
He rose to his feet and silenced her by placing his mouth over hers. She dropped the suitcase as he gathered her into his arms.
‘I love you, Bethan Powell,’ he murmured after he’d kissed her. ‘More than you’ll ever know.’
She clung to him, burying herself in the old familiar sensations; the warmth of his body close to hers, the smell of his tobacco mixed with his cologne, the feel of his fingers stroking her neck.
‘I love you too, Andrew John, but is love enough?’ she asked seriously. ‘We’re different beings from different worlds, you and I. We’ve nothing in common. I’ll never be a lady like your mother and you’ll never be a collier like my father.’
‘We could try being ourselves.’ He pressed his cheek against hers.
‘I mean it,’ she murmured, reeling from the hunger he aroused within her. ‘You should know what you’re taking on. All I own in the world is in that suitcase, and the whole lot isn’t worth much more than a pound. I’m six months pregnant and practically penniless …’
‘Tickets!’ the conductor called as he walked down the corridor towards them.
‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘Back to third class where I belong.’
‘I could pay the difference.’ He pulled her down on to the seat beside him.
‘You could, but you still won’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,’ she smiled.
‘Then how about we split the difference, my love, and invent a second class?’
She laughed softly as he swung her into his arms.
‘Is this where married life begins; with you demoting me to a lower class?’ he asked. She looked at him with her enormous dark eyes, and held out her hand.
‘Yes please, Dr John,’ she murmured. ‘Shall we go?’
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An excerpt from
ONE BLUE MOON
Book Two in the Hearts of Gold series
by
CATRIN COLLIER
Chapter One
Most people, especially men, thought of Diana Powell as pretty. She was, in a fresh, youthful, plump kind of a way. Red, rosy cheeks highlighted flawless, creamy skin, her brown eyes sparkled with vitality, and as she travelled towards Pontypridd in the train with her cousin Maud, her lips were as perfect, pouting, expressive and red as Carole Lombard’s on the poster for her latest film Lady by Choice. A poster that had been plastered over every
available inch of boarding heading out of Cardiff station, thus giving Diana ample time to study and imitate. Even the curls that escaped from beneath Diana’s market stall version of the current fashionable cloche hat bounced shining and wavy, despite the damp, heavy atmosphere.
Maud Powell didn’t resent her cousin Diana’s attractive looks. Envy had never been a part of Maud’s nature, and her naturally sunny disposition was the one constant that remained, even now, with her body weak and devastated by sickness. But occasionally she wished - and dreamed herself into health every bit as exuberant and vigorous as Diana’s. Slumped back against the grimy upholstery of the sagging railway carriage bench seat, she closed her eyes and indulged in what had rapidly become her favourite occupation - daydreaming.
She was in danger, terrible danger, but the peril wasn’t great enough to interfere with her grooming. A long, creamy satin gown clung to her figure, suddenly, miraculously transformed from scrawny to curvaceous in all the right places. Swirls of ostrich feathers swanned around her ankles in a fashion reminiscent of Ginger Rogers. White kid gloves clad her arms to the elbow, her blonde hair was immaculately waved and gleaming. Her face, no longer pale and haggard, was stunningly, heart-stoppingly beautiful. And every time she moved, the perfume of magnolia blossom wafted from her skin, scenting the atmosphere. (She didn’t have a clue what magnolia blossom smelt like, but she’d liked the sound of the name when Robert Taylor had praised it in one of his films.)
She was running - running along an upstairs corridor in a Hollywood version of the English country manor (the only version she’d ever seen) that was filled with acrid smoke. Flames ticked at her heels as she stood, alone and vulnerable at the top of a magnificent burning staircase. She cried out, and there walking towards her through the smoke and the fire, arms outstretched waiting to carry her away, was - was... this posed the most difficult question in any daydream. She hated having to choose between tall, elegant, aesthetic, poetic Leslie Howard, and robust, cynical, darkly handsome Clark Gable.
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