The Heart of the Home

by The Heart of the Home (retail) (epub)

  *

  George was sitting in the living room staring into space. In his hands he held a letter, telling him that Frieda had left him and he could contact her through her sister in Brighton. He wondered vaguely by how much she had emptied their bank account.

  *

  Meriel and Lucy were opening the office when a car drew up and a well-dressed and important looking man stepped out. They watched with surprise as he approached the door and walked in, head down, so the brim of his trilby shaded his face. Then he looked up, said, ‘Good morning, lovely ladies,’ and they saw with delight that their visitor was Harry Power. Meriel and Lucy both stood and offered him a chair.

  ‘I represent Mr Lewin of Bracken Court,’ he began rather formally then he grinned. ‘I really am here on business. Interested?’

  ‘You bet!’ Lucy replied.

  Meriel picked up a pen and pulled a notebook towards her, looking at him expectantly. ‘Mr Lewin of Bracken Court is looking for someone to organize the auction at Rosebay Farm next month. Are you interested?’ he asked them.

  ‘Of course,’ Lucy said, with what she hoped was nonchalance, and Meriel took from a drawer details of the auction they had taken over from George. He went out then and a well-dressed man of about fifty took his place, sat in the chair offered and began, ‘I am putting a lot of trust in you, can you reassure me? Are you able to cope with such a large event?’

  ‘As you can see from this previous sale, we managed to achieve and pass the expectations regarding price and we believe that was mainly down to the right prices, promising people a few bargains, bringing in the crowd.’ Meriel smiled at him, hoping she showed confidence and not too many teeth. ‘And of course we offer our combined expertise, there’s no substitute for experience and enthusiasm, is there?’

  ‘And this was a last-minute arrangement, remember,’ Lucy said, tapping the auction details with a pencil, ‘when another firm was unable to carry on. Given a whole month we are certain we can do even better.’

  The man said very little and as their comments slowed and they tried to think of other telling remarks to make he stood up and offered his well-manicured hand, first to Meriel then to Lucy. ‘I will send my man in with all the information you need and I expect a fast response detailing your plans. Thank you for your time. I look forward to working with you. Good day.’

  Shaking with excitement the two friends watched as the man got back into the car and sat there, while from the driver’s seat Harry Power jumped out with a file of papers which he handed to Meriel with a half smile and a nod. To Lucy’s amusement he added a wink and blew her a kiss before retreating back to the car and driving off.

  ‘Did you see that?’ Lucy said with a grin.

  ‘Look out, Gerald, our Lucy’s waking up to how attractive she is.’

  ‘Go on, don’t be daft.’ But the incident flattered her and made her smile for a long time.

  So that’s what he’s been doing, snooping around us buying cakes and pretending to be our friend? Checking whether we’re capable of managing an auction!’

  ‘Assessing our capabilities,’ Lucy joked. ‘How exciting!’

  ‘What a cheek. Mind you, I don’t mind who snoops if it means a job as good as this one,’ Meriel said happily, glancing down the list of items for sale.

  They saw from the details that the auction had been offered to George Dexter but they had withdrawn from the arrangement. ‘I suppose that means he’ll be coming here accusing us of underhand practices,’ Meriel sighed.

  ‘Ah well,’ Lucy said, ‘he might act like a mad dog but he’s unlikely to bite!’

  George didn’t come in and blast away at their underhandedness at taking his client. They expected accusations of deceit and dishonesty and threats that he would complain to the relevant authorities. They prepared themselves for his outrage but in fact he didn’t appear at all. It wasn’t until Lucy went to the post office later that they learned that George had been in hospital.

  As usual, Stella Jones had the latest information. ‘Some sort of attack it was, but he’s out now, came out this morning he did, against the advice of the doctors, mind. Typical of George Dexter. He thinks he knows better than the doctors.’

  ‘What about Teifion? I suppose he’s running the office? Difficult to get help at short notice but perhaps his stepmother will help.’

  Stella leaned towards her even though the post office was empty apart from the two of them. ‘Now there’s a funny thing, Teifion isn’t there. The office was closed until George got back and there’s gossip about the fact his wife didn’t visit him, not once.’ In a deeper voice, rich with solemnity, she added, ‘Something’s going on if you ask me.’

  Lucy didn’t need to ask anyone about Frieda’s apparent lack of concern, she guessed the reason was George refusing to see his wife, but she did wonder how Teifion was coping. ‘Perhaps I’ll walk past and see if Teifion’s there.’

  ‘He won’t be.’ Betty Connors had just walked in with letters to post. ‘He’s decided to work for me at the Ship and Compass, what d’you think of that, then, eh?’

  For once Stella was speechless.

  *

  Harry Power called at the office the following day and filled out the details about the sale, flirting and teasing them both between meticulously clarifying the business arrangements. For several days both girls were occupied with preparations for the important auction at Rosebay Farm. There were buildings and plots of land to sell as well as assorted furniture and fittings and sundry items from homes and farms.

  They had posters to design and print, advertisements to place in magazines and newspapers and the complicated catalogues to prepare and order. Selecting what items to illustrate and which to describe was something that kept them out of their beds late into the night on several occasions. They went to see the lots and decided which would be sold individually. For the first time, Meriel wished she could ask her father to advise; with many years of experience his comments would be invaluable.

  *

  George was furious when he realized who had been awarded the auction contract but he said nothing. He blamed his son, and also Frieda for being so troublesome that he had been less than attentive to Mr Lewen at such an important time. Walter had heard about the auction being given to Meriel and Lucy and sent word via Leo of how proud he was, offering help if any was needed. ‘Congratulations,’ Leo said to Meriel, after passing on her father’s good wishes. He hugged them both, but it seemed to Meriel that he held her for a little longer than the occasion warranted. She was aware of a slight embarrassment as she clung even longer than he did. There was something very comforting in his warmth and obvious affection, something unsettling in the way he stared at her after releasing her from his arms, his eyes softening in a disconcerting way. She told herself it was because of her stress over the all-important auction and slight apprehension about her ability to cope. She was still hurt he had not told her about her parents.

  They willingly took advantage of Leo’s help and he went with them when they went to look again at the items for sale. A couple of assistants were hired for the day, and were instructed on the way the items were displayed or, in some cases, discarded. They made several visits, leaving an excited Kitty and Bob in the office to cover. The well-dressed Mr Lewen appeared occasionally, on one visit offering a photograph of the farm taken fifty years previously, as a suggestion for the cover of the contents catalogue. He said very little but seemed satisfied with their arrangements.

  *

  George ran the office as well as he could and, as Teifion was refusing to help, he advertised for a temporary assistant. One of the applicants was Lucy’s friend, Gerald Cook. After only a few minutes George guessed he was not serious.

  ‘I work for my father and it isn’t a career I wish to spend my life developing,’ Gerald began. ‘I want something different.’

  ‘What does he do?’

  ‘He sells cars and also repairs vintage motorbikes,’ Gerald replied, be
lieving a slight exaggeration was reasonable in the circumstances. ‘I do find it fascinating to restore these wonderful machines, but I want something more mentally challenging.’

  ‘Why property? D’you consider that – challenging?’ George asked with a slight edge to his voice.

  ‘Yes, and, of course, I hope to make more money than I earn at present.’ Gerald used his most charming smile. ‘I want to make my way in the world. What sort of money d’you make on the average house sale? Better percentage than my father gets, I’m sure.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ George repeated. ‘But like your father’s business, mine has to be learned. You’d do well to stay with what you know and perhaps develop the business, taking note of the rising popularity of the motor car, don’t you think? What’s the mark up on selling a new car?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘And the cost per hour of repairs?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘A set of tyres for a Norton? A new engine for an Austin Seven? A brake cable for an Enfield?’

  Gerald shook his head. ‘In fact,’ he said in an attempt to extricate himself, ‘I leave the office side of things to my father and specialize in getting on with the work.’

  George looked pointedly at his stained hands and fingernails and stood up. ‘Thank you, Mr Cook, but I think you’ve come here simply to find out if the job offers an easy alternative to your father’s honourable business. Good day.’ As useless as that son of mine, he muttered to himself, finding an assistant was not going to be easy.

  He knew he should see Teifion and ask him to come back, plead with him even, and remind him of what he might lose, but he knew that with his present simmering anger he would only make things worse. With Frieda and his son away and only the morning lady, as he called Mrs Prothero, in the house to provide meals he decided to close the office and eat at the Ship and Compass. He had seen no one apart from a few clients since he came out of hospital but guessed the gossip would be out about his wife leaving, his neighbours laughing at him for believing he could keep a woman so many years his junior. Frieda had taken all her things and was gone. Unless he could persuade Teifion to come back he would be quite alone. He had to face people soon or he’d become a recluse, hiding his shame and embarrassment behind the office door.

  That the news was out he did not doubt; one or two people had passed the office and unable to hide their delight at his embarrassment had smiled knowingly through the glass. As though he were a strange animal in a zoo, he thought angrily. The gossip merchants would be having a great time gathered in groups, their shoulders slightly hunched as they shared the latest rumours and guesses, and embroidered the facts. Leaving Mrs Prothero with instructions about taking a message if the phone should ring, he stepped out, shoulders back and wearing a haughty expression he hoped might discourage idle questions, he crossed the road and went to the Ship.

  After the bright sun of the early June day it was dark inside and took a moment or two for his eyes to adjust. When they did he gave a gasp of horror. Teifion was behind the bar with Betty, laughing as he served Bob Jennings and Colin Jones. He turned abruptly and walked out. First Frieda letting him down in the most cruel way then walking away, and now his son abandoning him for a job, with Betty Connors!

  He went to the café to settle for whatever they had to offer, filled with self-pity. He had never been a popular man. His first wife had gradually become a stranger after Teifion was born, sleeping in his bed but with such obvious dislike that even that familiarity had faded and died.

  When she passed away a few years later his feelings had been resentment rather than grief, hating himself for allowing her to waste his best years. He had blamed Teifion. If he hadn’t been born she might have been different, or he could have left her, found someone else. But a son, a promise of continuity for the business had been strong reasons for staying. For what? No son, a second wife who had betrayed him, and between them they had made him a laughing stock. His mind twisted then and he saw clearly that the one who had ruined his life was not his wife, or Teifion or even Frieda. Walter Evans had made everything go wrong for him. All those years ago. He had destroyed any chance of happiness by stealing his girl.

  *

  Gerald was not unhappy about George’s curt dismissal of him. He hadn’t wanted the job but, as George had guessed, he had hoped to discover what prospects there were as an auctioneer and estate agent. If he were to accept a life with the boring Lucy Calloway, he wanted to make sure it was worthwhile. Money was a compensation for many things, including being married to someone as dull as Lucy.

  Cheerfully he went to Badgers Brook to see whether Lucy was at home. They often went back to the house for lunch, preferring the garden to the noisy café when the weather was kind.

  Lucy was at that moment standing at the top of a ladder, thankful she was wearing pedal-pushers to protect her modesty. The house was, for once, without visitors. Stella seemed to sense when they were at home and make an excuse to call, and Bob and Colin often came to work on the peaceful garden they treated like their own.

  She handed down the remnants of a squirrel’s nest to Meriel. They had been warned that although squirrels were charming, they weren’t recommended as roof-dwellers. So now the occupants had fled and before they could add to the nesting material ready for the winter, Bob had promised to block up the hole the busy little creatures had found.

  When Gerald called to see Lucy, on the pretext of delivering spares in the neighbourhood, there had been no reply to his knocking. The little dog came running around from the back of the house but, after a few short barks, had run back again. Shrieks of laughter, plus the dog’s excited yelps, led him around to the garden.

  Seeing Lucy pausing cautiously halfway down the ladder, he misunderstood what was going on and made an offer of help, to be the man of action. ‘Come down, darling, you could fall. I’ll go up and do whatever’s necessary.’

  Dutiful expression on her face, Lucy descended the ladder and watched as he climbed up. ‘Now, what do you want me to do?’ he asked looking down.

  ‘Whatever you like, Gerald, I was on my way down having moved a squirrel’s nest from the roof.’ She and Meriel laughed as he came down giving them a rueful smile.

  ‘All right, I was showing off, but I do think it’s dangerous for you to do things like that. Please call me and let me help. I can’t have you harming yourself, Lucy, you’re too precious.’ He put an arm around her and a warmth he hadn’t felt before startled him with its promise.

  She gazed up at him, her eyes full of mischief and the closeness of her and the look in her eyes excited him. Perhaps she wasn’t the dull, shy creature he’d known. Perhaps she had changed and he had been too self-centred to have noticed. While Meriel was walking towards the kitchen, he kissed her, held her close. ‘Don’t take chances,’ he whispered, running his lips across her cheek, under her chin, down to the pulse beating her throat, before putting his hands on the sides of her face, staring deeply into her beautiful greeny-blue eyes and blending his lips with hers. Breathlessly he said, ‘Precious, precious girl. I care too much to want you hurt, dear Lucy.’

  He was sincere for the first time since they had rediscovered each other, but to Lucy the words, although spoken from the heart, sounded false and she doubted him and felt her growing love for him shrinking away, disappointment fused with unexpected relief.

  *

  The preparations for the sale were progressing well and Leo couldn’t find many excuses to visit Cwm Derw. One day he phoned and asked if he could bring his mother and take them out to lunch. ‘Or we could bring a picnic, Mam would enjoy that, if you don’t think that’s too miserly on my part?’

  ‘A picnic will be fun. Yes, we’d love that. It will have to be Sunday, of course. Is that all right?’

  ‘Of course. It’s the only free day. Er, Meriel, can I invite your father too? Your mother is still spending a lot of time with Auntie Gladys and he’s very lonely with only the cleaner, and s
he’s usually in the house when he isn’t. Please? It will mean so much to him.’

  ‘Let’s make it a party. Connie and Geoff, and Betty Connors. Then there won’t be any embarrassing pleas for me to go home, will there?’

  ‘Sounds good to me. Have you heard from your mother?’

  ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘I haven’t found out who she is yet!’

  ‘Silly girl, you know I mean your true mother, Lynne Evans. She’s spending a lot of time with your Auntie Gladys.’

  ‘She isn’t my real aunt either. More lies.’

  Leo didn’t argue. ‘See you on Sunday then?’

  ‘Sunday.’

  ‘I can’t wait.’ He tried to put some meaning into the simple phrase but even to him it sounded trite. ‘I’m really looking forward to seeing you,’ he added and that sounded even worse.

  As usual, there were more people than planned when Sunday came. At eleven o’clock Kitty, Bob, Stella and Colin arrived with some ancient hampers and new shopping baskets filled with assorted packages and they set off in a convoy of cars. Betty had brought Teifion, and Gerald had heard about it and invited himself.

  They headed for Connie and Geoff’s favourite beach, a fairly isolated spot near the village of Sully and the small town of Penarth. The tide was on its way out and at one o’clock, Meriel and Lucy suggested walking across the slippery rock of the causeway and spending a brief time on the island. Leo at once offered to go with them. Gerald assured them he wanted to, but declined. As he wore good leather shoes that might spoil, he decided to walk on the coastal road instead. He persuaded Lucy to go with him and it was only Leo and Meriel who set off, while an anxious Walter watched from the narrow stony beach.