by Rosie Harris
‘Sarah?’ He stared in astonishment; she was soaking wet and so bedraggled that for a moment he barely recognised her. Then his heart raced as he saw she had two large suitcases.
‘I thought I’d missed you,’ she gasped. ‘I’ve been waiting here for ages,’ she added forlornly as she gave him a shaky little smile.
He frowned, nodding his head towards the suitcases. ‘What’s happening? Are you going away somewhere?’
She sniffed back her tears and shook her head. ‘I was waiting for you because I don’t know what to do; I’ve nowhere to go. Mam guessed about the baby, I couldn’t hide it any longer, and Dad was so cross that he turned me out,’ she told him in a doleful voice.
Gwyn guided her into the shelter of a nearby doorway. He’d been worried about her parents’ reaction when they discovered she was pregnant but he’d never for one moment thought they would take such a drastic measure as this.
Once they were out of the rain he took her into his arms, holding her close, smoothing back the damp tendrils of hair from her face before he kissed her.
‘Can I come and stay with you, Gwyn?’ she begged, looking up into his face beseechingly.
‘That’s not possible, Sarah. I’m living in lodgings and I’ve only got a very small room; anyway, I don’t think for one moment that the landlady would allow it.’
‘Oh, Gwyn, I was counting on it. If I can’t stay with you then what am I going to do?’ she asked in consternation.
For a moment he didn’t answer. This was a complete nightmare, something he had never dreamed would happen. It could scotch all his plans and ruin his career prospects.
‘Have you any money?’ he asked hesitantly. ‘Have you enough for a room for tonight? If you have, then that will give us time to make some plans about the future.’
‘Only this, and I’m not even sure how much there is.’ Sarah reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the small package her mother had secretly pressed into her hand as she was leaving.
‘Look, we’re both getting wet. Let’s go into a milk bar, have a hot drink and find out what’s in that envelope. Then we can talk things through and decide what to do for the best,’ Gwyn suggested. ‘I’ll take the big case,’ he added, picking it up, ‘if you can manage to carry the other one.’
Side by side they struggled through the driving rain, elbowing their way through the hurrying crowds who all seemed to be going in the opposite direction.
They managed to find a table for two tucked away in a quiet corner. Gwyn helped Sarah take off her dripping wet coat and hung it up in the hope that it would dry out a little while they were there. Then he ordered mugs of hot chocolate for them both and a round of buttered toast for her.
Sarah was still shivering, even though it was quite warm in the milk bar, and when he reached out and took her hand it was so cold that he felt concerned.
‘You’ll soon warm up once you’ve had a hot drink,’ he said giving it an encouraging squeeze.
‘I’m not cold, just anxious. I was so scared that I might have missed you. I don’t know what I would have done if I had because I don’t know where you are living,’ she said tremulously.
He stared at her in silence, wondering if there was any way he could unburden himself of his responsibility. He hated being rushed into taking action; he needed time to think about what he must do for the best, but perhaps moving into a couple of rooms somewhere and setting up home with her wouldn’t be too bad. He’d have more space and freedom than he had in his lodgings.
‘The first thing we’ll do when we leave here is try and find somewhere for you to stay tonight,’ he told her reassuringly. ‘It will probably have to be a small hotel. Can you afford it, because I only have a couple of bob on me at the moment?’
‘I’d better hope that there’s enough in here, then,’ she said with a rueful smile as she opened the envelope and tipped the contents on to the table.
‘That will probably take all the money I have,’ she said worriedly after she’d counted it. ‘Are you sure I can’t stay with you?’
‘It’s out of the question,’ he told her firmly. He looked at his watch. ‘Come on, we need to find somewhere right away so that you can get out of your damp clothes and get dry, or else you’ll be catching a chill,’ he told her.
The rain had stopped and St Mary’s Street was much quieter. As he hurried her along side streets where there were several small hotels, he hoped there would be a room available at one of them. Unless he managed to get back to his own room within the next half-hour he would be too late for his own evening meal.
They were lucky; at the second one they tried they were offered a single room but they were told it was very small and at the top of the building.
‘I’ll have to say goodbye here,’ Gwyn murmured after she’d signed the visitor’s book. ‘They won’t allow me to come up with you.’
‘I can’t manage to carry my cases up three flights of stairs,’ Sarah protested.
‘You won’t have to. Someone here will carry them up for you.’ He gave her a hasty peck on the cheek. ‘I’ll meet you before I start work tomorrow.’
‘You mean you’ll come here?’
He frowned. ‘No, let’s make it the milk bar where we’ve been tonight. Be there for eight o’clock and we’ll have breakfast together. By then I’ll have thought about what we are going to do.’
‘What about my suitcases, do I have to bring them with me?’
‘I would think it would be all right if you left them here. They won’t expect you to be out of your room before midday. It might be a good idea to tell whoever is on the desk that you’ll pick them up later in the morning, otherwise they might think you’re not coming back.’
‘Can’t we see each other again this evening, Gwyn?’ she asked timidly as he gave her a brief kiss and raised his trilby in farewell. ‘I feel so frightened,’ she whispered.
He shook his head. ‘It’s impossible; you’ve sprung this on me without warning so I need to spend the evening planning what I am going to do; we need somewhere to live, remember.’
‘You haven’t even kissed me properly since we met,’ she challenged. ‘Are you angry with me, Gwyn, because of what’s happened?’
‘Of course I’m not angry with you, cariad. I am a little bit taken aback because all this has happened so suddenly. I didn’t think we would need to take any positive steps about being together for a while yet.’
‘Then why can’t you give me a real cuddle and a proper kiss?’
‘Sarah! There are too many people watching us,’ he said evasively.
‘I don’t care about them,’ she told him defiantly. ‘I thought you would be all excited and pleased once you were over the surprise of what has happened. It will be like Porthcawl all over again only we won’t have to part at the end of a few days, we’ll be together for evermore,’ she said, beaming.
‘You make it all sound so simple,’ he muttered. ‘We’ve got to decide about so many things. There’s your education, for a start. When exactly is this baby due?’
Sarah looked at him wide-eyed. ‘I don’t know for certain. Beginning of May, but it could be born in April.’
‘So in that case you will miss sitting your exams.’ He frowned.
She shrugged. ‘I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Surely all that matters at the moment is that we’re together?’
He smiled briefly as he brushed his lips against her cheek. ‘Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.’
Chapter Thirteen
The following morning Sarah arrived at the milk bar first. To her surprise she’d fallen asleep almost the moment her head had touched the pillow the night before. She’d wakened early, feeling refreshed and much more confident about facing whatever lay ahead of her.
Gwyn was ten minutes late arriving but his smile as he greeted her reassured her that things really were going to be all right. He’d seemed to be so upset by her news the previous evening that there were
moments when she wondered if he was going to walk away and she’d never see him again.
Even before he ordered some breakfast for them he told her that he’d already been into the office and that he’d arranged to have the morning off.
‘Not only that but I’ve also made enquiries about where we might find some rooms,’ he told her confidently.
‘We?’ She looked at him with raised eyebrows.
‘Yes, Sarah, I did say we,’ he confirmed. ‘I’ll be moving in with you. We can’t afford to rent two separate places so we’ll be living together from now on.’
‘There’s nothing I would like more,’ she told him, reaching out and taking his hand.
He gave hers a reassuring squeeze. ‘That’s all right, then. Now,’ he drew a piece of paper out of his pocket, ‘I’ve written down a few places we can go and have a look at.’
‘Nothing that is too near to Cyfartha Street, I hope,’ she said quickly. ‘I wouldn’t want to run the risk of bumping into my parents when I went out.’
‘Nowhere near there at all; we can’t afford Cathays.’
‘So where are you thinking of?’ She frowned. ‘I don’t fancy Splott or Canton.’
‘There’s no chance of it being either of them, cariad. It’s going to have to be Tiger Bay.’
‘Tiger Bay!’ Her eyes widened in astonishment. ‘We can’t live down there.’
‘I’m afraid we’ll have to; it’s the cheapest place in Cardiff.’
‘I can understand why,’ she said scathingly. ‘It’s got a terrible reputation.’
‘Rubbish, that’s all talk. Cardiff’s a seaport so there’s bound to be a mix of people living near the docks.’
‘Yes, sailors from all over the world who’ve jumped ship and stayed on here.’
‘Some of them, yes,’ he agreed. ‘There’re also a great many white people living there as well and some of them are married to the coloured sailors. There are also people who’ve moved down to Cardiff from the Valleys looking for work there so they can’t all be bad.’
Sarah shook her head. ‘It’s not what I’ve been used to and I don’t like the idea of living down there at all,’ she said.
‘Think about it while I go and order,’ he told her, pushing back his chair and walking over to the counter.
Sarah pondered over the implications, unsure if it was the right thing to do. There was only one good point that she could see and that was that her mam and dad would never think of looking for her in Tiger Bay. From the way her father had spoken and the cowed look on her mother’s face, she was pretty sure that neither of them would try and find her anyway.
She looked across at Gwyn as he talked to the woman behind the counter. If he’d decided it was all right for them to live there then she supposed she’d have to go along with it. At least this morning he was offering her a roof over her head whereas last night she’d thought he was going to desert her completely.
When he returned to the table with two steaming cups of hot chocolate and told her they would bring over the rest of their meal in a couple of minutes, she managed to control her dismay at his decision about where they’d be living.
‘I suppose it will be fine as long as you are living there with me.’ She smiled at him. ‘Since it’s our first home together it’s bound to be special, anyway.’
‘It will be two rooms at the most and we’ll have to share the kitchen and all the other facilities,’ he reminded her grimly. ‘It won’t be a palace, but at the moment it’s all we can afford. We’ll only have my wages to pay for everything because you won’t be working.’
‘If I can find a job then can we live somewhere better?’ she asked quickly.
He looked puzzled. ‘That would mean you giving up university; you don’t want to do that, do you?’
‘I don’t know.’ Sarah shrugged non-committally. ‘I’ve found it so hard to study recently that I’ve got behind with everything. I’m not even sure if I can catch up.’ She stirred her drink thoughtfully. ‘Even if I do stay on, what good will it do? I’ll have to leave to have the baby before I can take my exams.’
‘Don’t take too hasty a decision,’ Gwyn warned. ‘Make some enquiries first and see if, under the circumstances, they will let you sit them later on.’
‘Do you think they would let me do that?’ she questioned.
‘It’s just possible, but you’ll have to explain why, of course,’ he added with a grim smile.
As soon as they’d finished their breakfast they took a tram down to the Pier Head. Sarah studied the shops and buildings on either side of the road as they went down Bute Street with growing dismay. So many of them had strange, foreign signs and names over them; ones that she couldn’t even pronounce.
As they left the tram Gwyn pulled the paper out of his pocket again and ran a finger down the addresses listed on it.
‘Come on, cheer up; we’ll start with the nearest one and that’s in Maria Street.’
Even as they approached the terraced house they both knew it was out of the question. Several of the windows were boarded up and the glass in the front door had been smashed and the gaping hole was stuffed with a piece of sacking.
The next two on Gwyn’s list were equally depressing. Sarah felt weary and Gwyn was growing increasingly frustrated, knowing that he had to be back at the office before one o’clock, and also that Sarah would have to collect her suitcases.
The last place they looked at was in Louisa Street. It was a three-storey terrace house and although it was almost next door to a pub called the Pembroke Arms it looked quite respectable. The windows were clean, there were net curtains at all of them, and although the front door needed painting the brass knocker and letter box were polished and shining.
The woman who opened the door was middle-aged and plump with dark hair combed back behind her ears. She was wearing a light blue dress with a print pinafore over it. ‘Have you come about the rooms?’ she asked in a no-nonsense tone of voice.
‘We have,’ Gwyn said briskly. ‘Can we see them, please?’
‘Top floor at the back,’ she told him, standing aside to let them come in. ‘Go on up. Bedroom and living room side by side; the kitchen and a lavatory are on the landing below and you share those with the two families on that floor.’
The rooms were small but clean and the narrow windows looked out on to the backs of the houses in the next street. In the smaller of the rooms there was a bed, a chest of drawers and a built-in cupboard across the alcove.
In the larger of the two rooms, there were cupboards on either side of the very small iron grate that had a tiled surround, a square wooden table with two chairs, and a sofa upholstered in brown Rexene underneath the window. A gas fire had been fitted into the small fireplace. The mottled grey lino was the same in both rooms and so, too, were the floral cretonne curtains that hung at the windows.
Sarah realised that although they were fortunate to have found somewhere that was at least clean it was nowhere near as well furnished or as comfortable as her home in Cyfartha Street had been. She tried to imagine what living here would be like and felt a shudder go through her.
‘Let’s see what the kitchen is like,’ Gwyn muttered, squeezing her hand as he headed for the door.
It was downstairs on the landing below and so small that Sarah felt an overwhelming sense of dismay. Where would she put everything, she wondered, then realised that, at the moment, she had nothing at all to put anywhere. All she possessed were the clothes she stood up in and the things in her suitcases.
She choked back her tears as they went back up to the two poky little rooms. They were so cold and uninviting that she hoped Gwyn would say no to the idea of living there; if he did, though, then where would they go?
Gwyn looked at her questioningly. ‘Have you made up your mind? I’ve got to get back to work,’ he reminded her. ‘I think we’d better take it as it’s certainly the best we’ve seen.’
She nodded, afraid to speak in case he heard the fear and
disappointment in her voice. She kept remembering the luxury of the hotel room where they had stayed together in Porthcawl; that was the sort of future she had dreamed of having with Gwyn, certainly not living together in a sordid attic in Tiger Bay. It might be only a couple of miles away from her old home and the centre of Cardiff, but it was like another world.
‘Come on then.’ He took her hand again. ‘We’ll go and tell the landlady and then you can come back to St Mary Street with me and collect your cases from the hotel. You’d probably better get a taxicab to bring them back here because they’ll be too heavy for you to carry from the Pier Head. You won’t forget where you’re living now, will you?’ he teased. ‘It’s in Louisa Street and it’s two doors away from the Pembroke Castle. The landlady’s name is Mrs Blackwood and remember you are signed in as Mrs Roberts,’ he told her as they walked back to the Pier Head to catch a tram.
‘Why have you told her that? We’re not married yet.’
He looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘If Mrs Blackwood knew that, then in all probability she wouldn’t let us stay here. Even down here in Tiger Bay they set great store by a couple being married, you know,’ he said wryly.
Sarah bit her lip and said nothing. Gwyn hadn’t even said that he wanted to marry her, she thought miserably. What had suddenly happened to all the romance?
She knew they couldn’t have a white wedding and all the celebrations that usually took place but he could have taken her in his arms and asked her if she would marry him. As it was he was taking it for granted that she was prepared to simply move in with him and call herself Mrs Roberts.
‘What time will you be coming home?’ Sarah asked anxiously as they alighted from the tram in St Mary Street. ‘Can’t I wait for you so that we can go back together?’
‘No, you must go and collect your cases and it is better if you go straight back with them,’ he told her firmly. ‘Anyway, I don’t know what time I will be finished. It depends what I have to do and where I have to go. I’ll be home as soon as I can.’