“That’s good. Why didn’t you tell me before-hand you’d planned to bring your mates back to live with us?”
Gwyn looked at Delyth, obviously embarrassed at being caught out. “I didn’t know how to. I was worried what you’d say. Maybe it’s ’cause I got used to making the decisions in the army and being obeyed.”
“But you’re not in the army now. We’re married. I want you to consider my opinions as well as your own.”
“Sorry, love. You’re right. I should’ve said something up front. It’ll be all right though won’t it?”
Delyth went over to where Gwyn was sitting and put her arms around him. He pulled her onto his knee and started to kiss her, unfortunately, only to be interrupted by the return of the two men. Delyth shyly pulled away. “I’ll bring a basin of warm water, soap and a towel out the back if you’d like to wash up for tea.” She led them outside.
It wasn’t too difficult to stretch the cawl, heavy with vegetables from the garden, to four serves, with some thickly sliced bread to go with it. As they sat around the table, the men joking together, Delyth found herself glad of the company after a monotonous day spent on her own.
However, she was putting the kettle on the stove to warm some water for the dishes, when she realised the men had no intention of sticking around.
“We won’t be long,” Gwyn called as he left the house, the other two following him.
*
It was only a matter of minutes before they found their way to the Colliers Arms. As Gwyn entered, he looked around at half a dozen familiar faces, all working men, in grubby work attire, heavy boots and limp-looking hair, leaning against the bar.
“Look who we’ve bloody got here.” One of them came over to Gwyn and shook his hand. The other arm went around his shoulder. He looked across at the barmaid, a large-bosomed woman, dressed in a skirt and blouse. “A pint for Gwyn please, love.” Then turning to Gwyn, “And who’ve you got here?”
“Paul and Thomas have come back from the front with me. They’re staying at my place.”
“Two more pints, love.”
Another patron moved to make room for the newcomers. “It’s good to see you, it is.”
Nothing had changed. The room might have been pretty ordinary and in need of a lick of paint, but the lads and the cheery atmosphere were still the same. This was a place where he could relax and forget about the worries of the day.
“You’ve been out of action for a while, Gwyn. Maybe someone else has got a chance now of winning the darts.”
Gwyn chuckled. “You can give it a try but don’t count your chickens.”
“Where you working, mate?”
“I’m back at the Steelworks, tomorrow. I’ve lined up work there for my pals as well, I have.”
“You always was a good worker, jus’ like your dad down the pit. Mind you, the money there’s not too bad neither. Jim and Mike here work down the pit. The rest of us will be with you at the Steelworks. Come on then, let’s see how you do at the darts, aye?”
Gwyn might have been a bit rusty, but he could still hold his own. There was a bit of gossip about the locals, with a few dirty jokes thrown in, that gave them all a laugh. It wasn’t what was said that mattered. It was the company that was important.
After a few beers, they returned home to a clean and tidy house. Delyth was quietly reading a book with the wireless on in the background.
Chapter 4
1970
Natalie thought she’d be able to shrug off the gloomy feelings but they continued to hang over her like a damp, dark cloud, ready to envelop her without warning. She’d been so independent at home, perhaps a bit of a recluse, never quite fitting in, but now her isolation felt painful and overwhelming. With no lectures in her social work course during orientation week, she spent hour after hour alone in her room or roaming aimlessly around the campus or local streets. Everything was unfamiliar. She didn’t belong. Nobody noticed her or cared. She tried to make conversation in the big, soulless dining room but she was so nervous and tongue-tied, all she made were foolish, clichéd comments. People shrugged and turned away to attend to other more interesting conversations, leaving her to shrink further inside herself.
The evening booze-ups in the common room continued. Natalie smoked and drank with the rest of them. Sometimes small groups wandered off into students’ rooms where they got to know each other better. Other rooms were identical to her own, equally vacant in character. What was obvious, however, was that unlike the women, the men had their beds made for them by the maids. One evening a number of students came to her room. One man brought a bottle of wine and kept their glasses filled. Natalie offered around cigarettes she’d now started to purchase. It was good fun, all snuggled up together on the bed. When the others departed, the friendly, frizzy-haired man who’d been sitting next to her, turned back, closing the door behind him. He walked over to Natalie and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. “Come and sit back down.” He took her hand and led her back to the bed where she sat down beside him. He put his arm around her and drew her closer. Soaking up the warmth, Natalie leant her head on his shoulder.
He stroked her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it. “You’ve got lovely hands. And lovely lips.” He kissed her on the mouth, gently at first and then more passionately. Natalie was startled by the turn of events but found herself responding to his advances. As they became more amorous, they slid down on the bed, cuddling up to each other. It’s so nice to be close to someone, to feel cared for.
“Let me touch your breasts.”
He put his hand under her T-shirt, undid her bra and fondled her breasts. It was unpleasant being pawed at in this way but at least it meant he stayed a bit longer before she had to face the night alone.
His hand started drifting lower. She moved it back up but it only strayed down again. She focused on breathing slowly to take her mind off what was happening as his hand continued its downward track. That doesn’t feel too bad. I didn’t know men touched you down there. She was breathing faster now. Then she came. That feels lovely.
The man lay on top of her. She could feel his engorged penis rubbing up against her. He rolled off her and undid his jeans.
“I don’t want to have sex. I want to stay a virgin.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. I’ll pull out before I come.”
At least he knew what he was doing. Mum always said a man didn’t respect a woman who wasn’t a virgin.
“I really don’t want to.”
“You’re not one of those prick-teasers are you?”
She gave in. It was bearable. She came again, at the same time as him, and felt more relaxed. It was pleasant to cuddle up together afterwards.
What hurt, was next morning, when her companion walked past her without even a ‘good morning’. At least she was still a virgin and that’s what counted.
Increasingly Natalie’s loneliness and search for a boyfriend led her into the arms of different men, who it seemed all knew the trick about pulling out. She needed a cuddle. They wanted sexual release. It was a reciprocal arrangement. Not right, she knew, but it sustained her through the emptiness of her life.
Lectures were no less of a challenge, especially Sociology. It seemed that every second word was some derivative of ‘fuck’, a word she’d never heard spoken out loud before. Her mother would have been horrified if she’d even said the word ‘bloody’. This was a different kind of education from what she’d expected. When the subject of alienation came up, she didn’t need a textbook to understand it.
‘Free love’ and ‘flower power’ were terms bandied about the campus. Natalie identified with students’ determination to change the world by spreading love and peace. Focusing on spiritual aspects of life was far more meaningful than the selfish, materialistic aspirations of her parents’ generation, raised through a depression she’d never known.
Back in her room, she’d engross herself in the newly launched women’s magazine, Cleo, which pro
vided a positive message about women’s autonomy. Left in a prominent position on her desk, it showed her visitors how liberated she was, unlike the teddy that was hidden away until she was alone. One day she was in her room flicking through the index when she noticed a feature article on sexual intercourse. She read with dismay. It’s already too late. What have I done? No man will respect me for the rest of my life. People must think I’m a tramp.
Chapter 5
1945
Life was starting to get into a rhythm, with the men walking off to work in Pontardawe each morning and Delyth doing the cooking, cleaning and laundry for what had become her new family. Then, one Sunday, Delyth found herself alone in the kitchen with Gwyn. He gave her a peck on the cheek. “I thought we’d go for a wander in the hills, with it being such a nice day. Pack us a picnic lunch will you bach? It’ll just be the two of us.”
Delyth’s eyes lit up. They’d always loved their hill walks together. She’d expected Gwyn to be too tired after his hard slog at work, but apparently not. She made lunch and quickly spruced herself up. Though she wore sturdy shoes and trousers, she put on a pretty floral blouse and just a dab of makeup. The final touch was the bright ribbon with which she tied back her hair into a pony-tail.
“Why my love, you’ve grown younger and more beautiful while I was away.” Gwyn gave her a wink. He picked up the picnic lunch and wrapped it in a rug, putting it under one arm, leaving the other free to link arms with Delyth. They sauntered down the road. It was wonderful to feel loved after all those lonely days. They passed through the railway viaduct and headed uphill in single file, with woodland on their right and farming country to the left. As the track became steeper, with rainwater trickling down between the stones that made up the rough surface, Gwyn reached out a steadying hand. Though she had no need of it, she accepted it with good grace. Before long they came to a flat area where they could look out across the valley.
Gwyn surveyed the scene before him. “That’s a view I’ve missed. You can see right across Clydach and Glais to the whole of Swansea.”
“I think I can make out the Mumbles in the distance.”
“You’re right, cariad. Much nicer view than the ugly Pontardawe steelworks on the left.”
“Still, it keeps you in work.”
“Mm. I can’t quite make out our place from here.”
Delyth joined in the search for it, pointing to where it should be. “You can see the neighbours’ places across the road from us.”
“Let’s be on our way or it’ll be dark before we get back home.”
As they trudged up the uneven surface Delyth admired the tall, pink foxgloves growing beside the track, her breathing becoming laboured with the effort of the climb.
“I used to walk up here as a boy with my mates. It was the memory of this place and you in it that kept me going on those long, dark nights.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No love, just as I said in my letters, I want to put it all behind me. Lucky for us, we have a bright future ahead. All I have to do now is save up a bit of a nest-egg. Then I’ll start my own business and everything will be plain sailing.”
Delyth contemplated her own dream of starting a family but thought better of it than to say anything at this stage. On reaching a farm lane they continued on in silence, soaking up the serenity of the atmosphere. Long grass in the fields swayed gently in the breeze beneath a huge, blue sky with just a few puffy clouds. Gwyn took Delyth’s hand in his as they came upon a treeless, unfenced hill. The openness before them provided a sense of freedom, removing them from the mundaneness of day-to-day existence. They took a lane to the left, through huge, mauve rhododendron bushes, to enter quiet woodlands.
Gwyn led Delyth into a private place amongst the trees. He laid out the rug and they cuddled up together. Dappled sunlight made its way through the leaves, the chirping of a multitude of birds serenading them. Delyth’s senses heightened, responding to Gwyn’s touch with an ecstasy that excited him further. Yet, he took his time, caressing and kissing her whole body, as if to worship her. He finally entered her but continued to move in a slow, gentle way, arousing her to climax over and over before he too, found satisfaction, collapsing beside her. As he dozed, Delyth, scrutinized his solid, muscular body, his chest with its fuzzy brown hair, and the relaxed expression on his face, with its now receding hairline. She felt consumed by love for him. This is what makes life bearable.
Delyth took a break from the drudgery of housework by joining women from the village at bible study and sewing bees for local charities. Their company was pleasant enough, even if the chit-chat wasn’t as exciting as conversations she’d had at work. Having come from up north, it wasn’t always easy to fit into the Trebanos community but she was determined to adapt as best she could to her new role.
She had the film nights, too, at the local community hall to look forward to. With the programme changing twice a week, Delyth and Gwyn made a habit of going on a Wednesday and Saturday evening. It was lovely to pull their chairs together in the dark and hold hands, perhaps sneaking a little cuddle. Not all the women had their men back and she was relieved to have Gwyn’s company beside her.
*
One Sunday Gwyn decided it was time to venture back to chapel. As usual, his mates joined him and the four of them went along together. As they entered the grand, old building, with its traditional pews and altar, Gwyn looked around, glad to see so many familiar faces. After the service, they stayed back for a chat over a cuppa and home-baked cakes. It was great to catch up with old friends and hear all the news, though of course, some of it wasn’t what he’d hoped.
The minister greeted them. “Will you be joining us for choir, then?”
Gwyn nodded and the others followed suit.
It was strange being back at the Steelworks, having to take orders from others. Gwyn was a bit rusty to start with but soon got back into the way of things. Though the work was hot and heavy, it was good to occupy his mind with familiar tasks and to be back with the lads. During smoko, with his ready supply of jokes, he was never short of company. There were, however, occasions when he found his mind wandering off to faraway places. It might be the backfiring of a vehicle or the sound of a tool that triggered his recall of gunfire. Back there in the war zone, he’d find himself struggling to breathe. Just memories. It’ll pass. He applied himself harder to the task at hand and brought his mind back to the present.
Before long the rugby season was upon them and naturally, the three of them joined up with the local team. Though Trebanos only played friendlies with other leagues in the Swansea and Neath valleys, they’d often find themselves down on the practice field one or two evenings a week, as well as the weekend games. The rough and tumble with the boys and the cheery drinks at the Colliers Arms afterwards were good fun. He was back in a man’s world. Delyth was a bit of a stick in the mud, whinging about missing film nights and complaining he drank too much. She needn’t think she’s going to spoil my pleasure though. Sometimes he tried to include her by sharing a few dirty yarns he’d picked up down the pub but that never went down too well. Then he’d have a go back. “That’s what’s wrong with you, little woman, no sense of humour. Lighten up, why don’t you?”
Chapter 6
1970
The usual motley array of students was hanging around in the common room when Natalie noticed a stranger enter the room. He would have been over six feet tall and skinny. His brown, wavy hair gave the appearance of not having been combed, or even washed, for a considerable time. His face, covered in big, red blotches of acne, complete with a plentiful array of black-heads, wore a woebegone expression. He manoeuvred around the room, gangly and awkward in his movements, picking up various newspapers, glancing at them and then replacing them. Finally, he selected one and sat down to read. He doesn’t put on any pretence. Not the type to lord it over you. I’d be safe with him.
*
Peter was interrupted in his reading by the voice of
a young woman who’d suddenly appeared in front of him. “Hello, I haven’t seen you here before. I’m Natalie.”
He looked up at the petite woman before him. Dressed in jeans and t-shirt, her long dark hair, severely parted in the middle, straggled down beyond her shoulders. What captivated him though, were her bright eyes, which seemed to reflect energy and mystery.
He reached out his hand to shake hers. “Peter. There wasn’t a room available for me at the beginning of the semester. One has just become free so I’m finally here.”
“Where’re you from?”
“Palm Beach. I’ve been driving from home each day.”
“You’ve got a car then?”
“Dad gave me his old Fairlane when he bought a new car.”
Arriving at college after everyone else had settled in had made things a bit difficult. He was like a fish out of water with this smart crowd. It was always a relief to bump into Natalie with her ready smile and friendly chatter. He caught up with her one evening on the way to the dining room. “Colin, a mate of mine from school, is celebrating his 21st on Saturday. Would you like to come along and meet my friends? They’re good people.”
*
It was nerve-racking travelling through the streets of Sydney with this man she hardly knew. Conversation was at a minimum. Peter turned on the radio, which eased the silence. Finally, he pulled up in front of a modern, brick-veneer house. As Natalie opened the car door the sound of lively music caught her ear. Peter led the way up the front path. An attractive, neatly dressed, young man opened the door and threw his arms around Peter, who reached over and held her hand as he introduced her to Colin.
“Glad you could make it, Natalie. Come in.” Colin led them along a carpeted hallway, where the sound of laughter and raised voices became louder as they reached the large double garage, decorated with balloons and coloured streamers. A shiny banner, reading ‘Happy 21st Birthday’, hung over a table, covered with plates of food, drinks and glasses. “Just help yourselves to whatever you want.” The area was already crowded with young people. Peter smiled broadly as he introduced her around. Everyone was happy and friendly and Natalie soon felt at ease.
Parallel Lives Page 3