As he walked her back to the car they saw Teifion and at the same moment Mr Roberts-Price appeared riding an ancient bicycle. The man stopped and swiftly turned and rode away. Teifion stared after him and with a nod in Meriel’s direction, he too turned aside.
‘I can understand Teifion not stopping to say hello,’ Meriel said with a laugh, ‘his embarrassment is still raw, but I don’t know why that man hurried away as though I threatened danger.’
‘Perhaps he was running away from Teifion. Why should anyone want to avoid you?’
‘But it was me he was looking at before he turned and rode off, not Teifion.’
‘Forget it, I doubt if it was anything to do with either of you, or me for that matter. You don’t know him, do you?’
‘I think I do. Although we only met briefly, I think he’s Mr Roberts-Price. Lucy sold his house and it was she who dealt with him.’
‘Roberts-Price,’ Leo shrugged. ‘I can’t say I’ve heard of him. He looks rather old-fashioned, dressed for church rather than a bicycle ride. He’s probably old-fashioned regarding women too. You are quite beautiful, Meriel, and you dress to remind people you’re a woman. A woman in a man’s world. I bet his wife wears old potato sacks!’
She smiled, shaken by his compliment spoken with sincerity, not his usual jokey manner, the one she was used to. ‘I remember Lucy telling me the family are devout and rather serious,’ she told him.
‘I’ll make enquiries if you wish.’
‘No, I don’t think he’s important. Perhaps he just remembered he’d left the kettle on the gas.’ She increased her speed. ‘Come on, Lucy will wonder where we’ve got to.’
He pulled her arm through his. ‘We’re so late, another five minutes can’t matter.’
She glanced up and was startled to see the way he was looking at her. There was affection and something more in his expression. She was aware of a strange emotion, a kind of swelling inside her, a new kind of happiness. They walked very slowly the rest of the way.
As he drove away she was engulfed in sadness, wishing she’d asked him to stay. I’m being silly, she told herself and walked briskly into the office where Lucy was reading through the local paper looking for prospects.
After the usual greetings Meriel went to the files to remind herself of the Roberts-Prices’ new address. It wasn’t far from where she had seen him, about five or six miles away. The house was called Church Cottage, in the village of Glyndwr, and Lucy told her he and his wife were caretakers in the church.
‘Mr R-P works in a shop selling religious books, and so does his son, Noah,’ Lucy told her. ‘Although as you know he is in the army at present. They have a daughter Martha, who works in Woolworth’s on the record counter. I had a job to get even that much information from his wife, who seems afraid of people knowing too much about them. I wasn’t being nosy, but sitting there I tried to make conversation, talking about people we know, looking for a connection like people usually do. An odd family, but they seem content, don’t they? Loving and close.’ She was about to add that she would have given a lot to be a part of such a family even though they were reserved, but she didn’t. It was time to stop looking back with regret, enjoy the present and look forward to her exciting future.
The sale of the farm had been a breakthrough and although small, there was an increase in the people who came to them when they were looking for a property or wanting to sell or rent. This month looked set to be by far their best so far and they began to feel more confident in the future.
Lucy was talking to a couple who wanted to buy a small property when Gerald called in. Despite trying to look unconcerned, Lucy felt a tug of excitement deep within her. Holding it back she waited until the couple left then looked at him and said, ‘Looking for a property or selling, Mr Cook?’
‘Neither, Miss Calloway, I want to – take you out this evening.’
‘Sorry, we only deal with property.’
‘I wish you were my property,’ he said softly. ‘What a fool I was to let you go.’
Still calmly she said, ‘Yes, Mr Cook, you were. Now, if there’s nothing else, I need to get these invoices paid.’
‘Please, Lucy, just a meal somewhere, or the pictures, you always loved the pictures. Or a dance? D’you still go dancing?’
‘Sorry, we’re far too busy. Office all day and the garden all evening.’
‘Perhaps next week?’
‘I doubt it, next week will be even busier.’ Then she spoilt her act by laughing.
‘Come on, Lucy, a few hours of your company is all I want. To hear all about what you’ve been doing since we last met.’
‘All right, so long as it isn’t a cycle ride. Or one of your father’s motorbikes.’
‘I’ll try to borrow a car.’
‘The bus will do. Monday? It’s our day off.’
‘But it isn’t mine. I don’t think I can take a day off, even for you.’
She knew this perfectly well and was teasing him and enjoying it. ‘Sorry, there isn’t time any other day.’ She stood up, tacitly dismissing him. He left the shop, blowing a kiss, which she didn’t return.
*
Meriel’s parents came to stay at Badgers Brook the following weekend. Leo agreed to stay in the office with an assistant on Saturday so they could travel down early Friday evening. As usual, Meriel and Lucy were not alone. Betty Connors was visiting before she started work at the Ship and Compass, and Stella called when the post office closed with her husband Colin, to give the two young women some runner bean plants from their allotment.
The puppy was fussing around greeting everyone and bringing toys to play with.
Delightful chaos, was how Lynne described it. ‘I can’t believe how well the girls have settled in and become a part of the community.’
‘It’s the house,’ Stella told her. ‘It welcomes people and calms them, helps them sort out problems like no place I’ve ever known.’
‘Calms them!’ Lynne laughed as she watched the puppy running off with a cake from Bob’s plate and everyone trying to get it off her.
‘It’s true,’ Bob said, having rescued the cake and put it out of the puppy’s reach. ‘Geoff and Connie, who own the place, say it has always attracted people in trouble and helps them to solve their problems with its peaceful atmosphere.’
‘But Meriel isn’t in trouble, is she?’ she asked in alarm.
‘Oh no, Lynne, forget we mentioned it, I’m sure it isn’t always the case,’ Stella said quickly. But she stared at Meriel and wondered if the trouble was yet to come.
Gerald called at the office several times in the days that followed, usually at lunchtime when he tried to persuade Lucy to go with him one evening, to a place out of town where they could talk. Encouraged by Meriel, she finally agreed. It was a long time since she’d had a date and the memories of loving him had not completely faded.
‘It will have to be Thursday,’ she told him, determined not to make things easy for him. ‘Come to the office when we close and we can go straight off, I don’t like being out late,’ she said.
He frowned. ‘I think it might be best if you went by bus into Cardiff and we met there,’ he said.
‘What? If you can’t be bothered to escort me then you can forget it!’ Angrily she turned away.
‘Oh, Lucy, don’t be so difficult. I’ll already be in Cardiff that day attending a conference on the latest motorbikes. Dad insists that I go,’ he added ruefully, ‘he thinks I’ll enjoy it. So it would make sense for you to join me there rather than me coming all this way back then setting off again.’
With some reluctance she agreed. Meriel insisted she left the office early and went home to change and make herself ready. She went by bus to Cardiff and was at the appointed place at a quarter to six but he wasn’t there. She was fifteen minutes early but didn’t fancy wandering around, with the shops already closed it seemed pointless, so she decided to wait. Quarter of an hour would soon pass.
Gerald was in a room
not far from where she was waiting, desperately glancing at his watch. The conference on the mechanics of a new range of engine had been boring but as he’d been asked to take the minutes in the absence of the secretary, he’d had to stay. Besides, his father would expect a blow by blow account of the day when he got home.
Aware he was going to be late he tried to leave but was stopped by the owner of a business similar to his father’s and he couldn’t get away. Time passed and he imagined he could hear the vibrations of seconds passing throughout his body.
Lucy was puzzled at his choice of meeting place, a quiet road outside the centre, where there were warehouses and a few abandoned premises. She looked at her watch and decided she would allow him no extra time at all. If he were late then she wouldn’t be there. Tapping her foot irritably, she was beginning to wish she hadn’t succumbed to the temptation of an evening out.
It was going to be a disaster. She was already edgy and ill-tempered. He should have been there, waiting for her, looking anxious. He should have shown relief when she turned the corner – ran to her joyfully – held her close, kissed her and… She pulled away from that foolish dream and glanced around her at the empty street. It wasn’t going to happen.
A few minutes passed then a steady movement of people began to leave the buildings and head for the bus station and with everyone passing her she felt even more alone and foolish. They all seemed to be rushing to get home, some putting on their coats as they ran, impatient to leave their place of work, while she was wishing she was back in hers.
Was he really going to stand her up? She walked to the corner several times, beginning to worry she might be taken for a ‘street walker’. The small rush of people slowed to a trickle, the quiet area seemed to be closing down and it became more silent as minutes passed. Six o’clock came and went and still she waited. She knew she was lowering her own value, admitting she wasn’t worth consideration, by accepting his poor treatment. He had told her six o’clock and it was now exactly five minutes past. Still she waited.
*
Gerald suffered another delay as he went to collect his coat. Someone had taken his by mistake. It took an age to sort out the mix-up as the man had put his wallet into the wrong coat and Gerald had to wait with the caretaker until he came back to retrieve it.
*
At fifteen minutes past the hour and with a final glance behind her, Lucy hurried to the corner and began walking briskly to the bus station trying not to run. Now she had decided to leave she didn’t want to meet him and she went by a slightly devious route, heading for the Railway Hotel, cutting through roads where there were more warehouses and fruit wholesalers before reaching the railway station with the buses standing in lines in front of it.
Crowds still gathered around the railway station, reading newspapers, standing beside luggage, looking anxiously for a familiar face. Once she thought she saw him and deviated from her route just in case. Now she really didn’t want to see Gerald, or be seen by him. Too many minutes had passed and she hoped he would never know how long she had waited.
She felt so self-conscious, dreading being seen by Gerald, that she had the foolish sensation someone was about to touch her shoulder even as she stepped onto the bus. Heart racing, it was a relief when she was finally seated down and the bus was moving away.
She looked straight ahead, refusing to give the crowd one last look.
*
Gerald ran as fast as he could through the home-going crowd and stopped in disappointment as he reached the corner and looked down to where Lucy should have been waiting. His final delay had been caused by a man from the meeting who knew his father well. He had insisted on walking with him, stopping to chat about his boring wife and boring family.
The man was someone with whom he was supposed to discuss a good deal on the newest motorbike, but instead, without telling his father, Gerald had contacted a firm who promised a new deal repairing and selling second-hand cars. Better than motorbikes, he had thought, comfort being more important than style, these days. Family cars, that was the future. Bikes or cars, he hoped he would be far away from his father’s garage one day soon. Lucy was his strongest hope of escape and he was angry with everyone for making him miss her.
Comfort was the main reason for wanting to revive the friendship with Lucy, and perhaps marry her if it meant he would be a part of the business she and her friend owned. Without the promise of an easy life, with no financial worries, she wasn’t exciting enough. But she’s still attracted to me, he told himself gratifyingly. I’ll soon get her back. He felt a surge of superiority as he thought of her pathetic attempts to play hard to get. She was so unsophisticated.
He turned and hurried, without much hope, to the bus stop but there was no sign of Lucy in the queue that waited for the Cwm Derw bus. She’d have been tired of waiting. The fifteen minutes he had been delayed had cost him his first date. Well, he thought philosophically, the deal with the car salesman was underway and the evening was his own. Hazel Proudfoot was usually available.
He changed his mind when he got back to Cwm Derw. Perhaps he ought to try and make his excuses to Lucy. From what his parents had told him, Lucy and Meriel were building a successful business and he really liked the sound of that. It promised a life of leisure and he would be very happy if he could leave his father’s small workshop.
Repairing bicycles and motorbikes, plus the occasional sale, was not the way he wanted to spend the rest of his life. Lucy, boring Lucy, was suddenly his way out, his path to better things. Running an estate agency, having clean hands, wearing smart suits and with people looking up to you, that was better than being an uninspired, uninterested mechanic whose father was still trying to teach him even the simplest procedures.
It would be easy to win Lucy back, there had never been anyone else in her life, certainly not anyone as attractive as himself. Besides, she was at an age when she couldn’t be choosy. His optimism revived, he headed for Badgers Brook.
*
Teifion had travelled on the same bus and was walking in the same direction as Gerald but he didn’t go as far as Badgers Brook. He stopped at his father’s house having been avoiding him all day. He knew his father was angry with him and he thought he had the means of changing that. He had spent the day making enquiries but had come up with no corroboration to back up his guess that Meriel was not the child of Lynne and George Evans. But the lack of proof was not enough to stop him relating it as a good story and when he and his father were alone, Frieda having gone for a weekend with her sister in Brighton, he told him he suspected Meriel was adopted.
George said very little, his mind was on Frieda and where she might be. But he listened and wondered how he could use the information to make Meriel leave. He decided to keep the story as ammunition for use if there was any trouble between him and George Evans in the future. Meriel and Lucy had affected his sales but he had no justifiable complaints about the way they ran their office. They did search more diligently for clients but he had been doing the same and in fact he hadn’t lost much income since they arrived. Although, there was a slight increase in the number of people now buying homes, rather than renting, and perhaps that was disguising his own lack of progress. After all, every house they sold meant one less for himself.
Teifion went out again. A drink at the Ship and Compass was better than staying in for one of his father’s lectures.
*
Lucy went home and, hiding her humiliation, laughed as she told Meriel that, as Gerald wasn’t there before the appointed time, she hadn’t waited. She couldn’t admit to the extra fifteen minutes she had stood in that silent, empty street and hoped.
‘Good on you,’ Meriel said, but she guessed her friend had been hurt by the incident. ‘I’m glad you’re back. I made a fatless, eggless concoction which the cookery book had the cheek to call a cake, and I want you to try it.’ She bustled about making tea, talking about the few clients she had seen since Lucy’s departure and giving Lucy time to r
ecover from her disappointment.
Then there was a knock at the door and Lucy went to answer it expecting one of the neighbours, but Gerald stood there, his trilby in his hands and abject misery on his face.
‘Lucy, I’m so sorry, but the meeting went on a bit and as I was one of the people in charge, I couldn’t get away.’
‘In charge?’
‘Well, I was responsible for taking the minutes and helping with the distribution of information, and a few other things besides, you know how they intend to put the pressure on the capable ones. I simply couldn’t leave until everyone else had gone.’
Lucy stood there barring his entrance, unable to decide whether or not to believe him. It was Meriel who called for him to come in. ‘Come and try a piece of this cake, Gerald. It isn’t too bad, is it, Lucy?’ she called as she reached for her coat.
‘Where are you going?’ Lucy asked, as Meriel cut a couple of slices of the soft, rather sticky cake.
‘I promised Kitty and Bob a taste, it was she who gave me the recipe.’ Chewing her last mouthful, she mumbled that she wouldn’t be long and went out.
Gerald stood just inside the door and Lucy sat down at the table and cut a slice of the cake. ‘You’d better sit down as you’re here,’ she said ungraciously.
‘I’m really sorry, Lucy. Shall we try again tomorrow?’
Lucy shook her head, but he pleaded until she agreed to give it another try.
‘Same day next week. But this time I want you to meet me at the office, I don’t want to go on the bus on my own and hang around in the faint hope you’ll turn up.’
‘I’d love to but I don’t think I can. I’m working in Cardiff next week. It’s a course on engines. My father still fondly hopes to make a mechanic of me one day.’
The Heart of the Home Page 9