‘I’ll be leaving on the same train as Myrtle, four in the morning,’ Wyn said as he watched Diana check the till takings in the High Street shop. ‘I didn’t realise, but apparently they put on special carriages for the munitions workers.’
‘So you’ll be working the same hours as Myrtle?’ She removed most of the notes and half the coins, counted and bagged them.
‘More or less, it’s a minimum twelve-hour shift for the men. If there’s a push on, it might be longer, but then you already know that. Look, as things are under control here -’ he glanced at Harriet, who’d proved as quick and capable as George Collins had promised ‘why don’t we go down to Ronconi’s restaurant for a proper lunch? We might not get another opportunity for a while. I saw some cakes in the window,’ he added, hoping to entice her.
‘God only knows what’s in them, and Billy …’
‘Won’t need feeding for another two hours.’ He jiggled the handle of the pram, where the baby lay curled contently into sleep. ‘Come on, Diana, lunch and cakes and five minutes’ peace. There won’t be many moments like this once I start in the factory.’
She looked around the shop. She could scarcely claim it was busy enough to warrant her presence. As was usual by midday the shelves were almost bare, and Harriet had already moved the few remaining pies and pasties to the bottom shelf and washed and polished the top ones. She’d also cleaned the glass in the counter, and the window, and judging by the state of the linoleum on the floor, swept and washed it. ‘I have to bank this,’ she held up the bag, ‘before the Midland closes at twelve.’
‘We’ll stop off on the way.’
‘I’ll be back before closing to show you how to cash up, Harriet. As soon as all the stock has gone, you can lock up and clean and tidy the rest of the shop. The storeroom could do with a going over,’ she added, attempting to assert her authority from the outset. She picked up her jacket, and went to the door. ‘I’d rather go to the café than the restaurant. Tina may have heard from William. Mam had another dream about him last night. If she doesn’t get a letter soon she’ll either go mad or start looking for a ship to take her to North Africa.’
‘They say no news is good news,’ Wyn reminded mildly as he steered the pram out through the door.
‘Knowing my brother, no news probably means he’s caught up in a card game somewhere, or cornered a keg of beer or a few bottles of whisky. Now he’s married to Tina I only hope it’s not a belly dancer or an Arab girl.’
‘Or a battle?’
‘You read his last letter. Seems to me soldiers spend ninety-nine per cent of their time sitting around on their rear ends waiting for something to happen.’
‘And the other one per cent terrified out of their wits by bombs and bullets.’
‘I’ll brain him if he does anything stupid.’
Wyn didn’t reply. The tension always escalated in the house when the erratic flow of William’s letters ceased altogether. And even the relief when one finally arrived was short-lived as soon as Megan or Diana realised that anything could have happened in the interim between him penning the letter, weeks, if not months before, and its arrival.
They reached the bank and Diana went inside, leaving Wyn to wait with the pram. The town seemed busier than usual, even for a Saturday. There was a sprinkling of khaki uniforms amongst the black weeds of the widows and the spring dresses of the younger women, and Wyn felt a pang of envy; again regretting the accident that had prevented him from joining up.
‘Sweet business so bad these days, Wyn, you’re reduced to begging outside banks?’
‘William!’ Wyn barely recognised his brother-in-law in the fit, tanned guardsman who confronted him. You’re the last person I expected to see. What on earth are you doing here?’
‘That’s a fine greeting for a serving soldier home from the war.’ William held out his hand. He was all too aware of his brother-in-law’s reputation and wouldn’t even have risked a handshake if Wyn hadn’t been married to his sister.
‘Do Tina and your mother know you’re home? Diana’s inside, we were only just talking about you …’
‘It must be difficult to talk about anything else,’ William joked. ‘And the answer is no. No one knows I’m home. We hitched a ride with a lorry that dropped us off on Merthyr Road.’
‘We?’
‘You know, Tony Ronconi.’
The colour drained from Wyn’s face when he saw the slim, dark figure standing behind William, but William, never the most sensitive of beings, carried on blithely.
‘Tony, this is Wyn Rees. He married Diana.’
‘I didn’t know Diana was married.’ Tony and Wyn continued to stare at one another, neither offering the other a handshake, but William was too busy looking out for his sister to notice.
‘Hi, sis!’ he greeted her as she emerged from the bank. ‘Have you got a kiss for the returning hero?’
Much to the amusement of several passers-by who totally misread the situation, she flung herself into his arms, making him drop his kitbag. ‘Mam is going to be over the moon! She’s stopped the postman every day for the last month looking for a letter from you. Why didn’t you write?’ she demanded indignantly, pushing him away from her and looking him over to make sure he was in one piece.
‘Because I was in transit. Is Mam still with you and Wyn?’
‘She moved in with us permanently after Billy was born.’
Tony stared at the pram, clearly noticing it for the first time. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Will, I’ll push on up to the café.’
‘You’ll do no such thing.’ Will picked up his bag and laid a restraining hand on Tony’s arm. ‘I don’t want anyone warning my wife I’m heading her way. By the way, congratulations to the pair of you.’ He peered into the pram as Diana and Wyn reluctantly accompanied them up Taff Street. ‘Small, isn’t he?’
‘He was a lot smaller when he was born,’ Diana retorted quickly, trying to fill the strained silence between Wyn and Tony.
‘I’m glad to see you gave my nephew the best possible name.’
‘He’s Billy, not Will, and we named him after our father not you.’ Diana clung to Wyn’s arm, desperately trying to ignore Tony’s presence beside her.
‘He’s got our colouring, Di.’
‘He might turn fairer yet.’ She was acutely aware of Tony’s eyes taking in everything. Her… Wyn… the baby …
‘Tina in the Tumble café?’ Will asked.
‘Where else?’
‘I’ll collect her, then we’ll both call on Mam. Don’t suppose there’s any chance of you two helping out at the café for the next week?’
‘You’ve got a whole week’s leave?’
‘Why so surprised? Don’t you think we deserve it after what we’ve been through? Well, after what I’ve been through,’ he amended with a sly glance at his companion. ‘Tony here sorted himself a right cushy number after he was wounded. We only met up in base camp yesterday afternoon.’ Excited by the prospect of seeing his wife, William didn’t notice Tony’s silence as he negotiated his way through the crowds outside Rivelin’s.
‘Charlie’s just been home for the first time in over a year, and he only got three days.’
‘Charlie’s home, great …’
‘He went back last week; so did Haydn. He brought Jane home, because he’s going on an ENSA tour.’
William scarcely heard her as he pushed open the café door. Steam billowed towards him from the counter where Tina was heating milk for coffee. He didn’t look at anyone else. Dropping his bag he moved quietly around the tables, tiptoed behind her, reached over the counter and put his hands around her waist. She dropped the coffee pot, spilling milk all over the mock marble fountain and shelf below the steamers and boilers. Whirling around with a dishcloth in her hand, her anger dissolved into confusion.
‘Will!’
He pulled her across the counter and into his arms.
‘Glad to see you’ve not become accustomed to other men handling you while I’ve been
away.’
‘Come on through.’ She grabbed his hand and lifted the counter flap, pulling him towards the kitchen and the staircase that led to her rooms. ‘Ronnie, you’ll take over, won’t you?’
‘I already have,’ he murmured laconically, mopping up the mess of spilt milk.
‘Ronnie?’ Tony noticed his brother for the first time. ‘What are you doing home?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Ronnie answered wearily, wondering how many more times he would have to relate the tragedy of Maud’s death.
William held out his hand. ‘Sorry, didn’t see you.’
‘You did seem rather engrossed in my sister.’
‘She told you we got married?’ he asked with a cheeky grin.
‘You wouldn’t have managed it if I’d been home.’
‘I don’t remember you asking my permission to marry Maud.’
‘Come on, Will,’ Tina said as a hush descended over the café.
‘See you later.’ Ronnie couldn’t help smiling despite everyone’s embarrassment. Tina and William’s pleasure reminded him of the happy times with Maud, and how he’d felt seeing her again after each and every small separation.
He turned to his brother, Wyn and Diana as the kitchen door closed behind Tina. ‘Tea? Coffee? I believe we have a very good line in baked beans on toast for those who don’t expect many beans or butter on the toast.’
‘I’ll go straight home and dump my kitbag if it’s all the same to you,’ Tony said tersely. ‘Will and I have been on the road since two this morning.’
‘You’re staying in Laura’s house with me, and as she’s away we’ll have to fend for ourselves.’
‘That’s just what I feel like doing after twelve hours on the road.’
‘If you’re hungry, you’d be better off foraging down the restaurant than here. You can leave your kitbag.’
‘I’ll do that.’ Tony pushed his bag into the corner behind the door. ‘See you later.’ Tipping his cap in Diana’s direction and nodding to Wyn, he walked out.
Diana shivered. The thought of Tony being home for a week made her blood run cold.
‘That leaves you two.’
‘Just tea for me please,’ Diana said.
‘Wyn?’
‘I’ll nip across and check on the New Theatre shop, make sure everything’s running smoothly. I won’t be long, Diana.’
Realising how much Tony’s sudden appearance had shaken Wyn, Diana didn’t try to detain him. She moved the pram alongside Tony’s bag, and tucked the blankets around Billy. A thump echoed down from overhead, setting the lamps rocking and gales of laughter rippling around the café.
‘I think I’d better try to persuade Tina and Will to swap places with Tony and me and move into Laura’s for a week.’ Ronnie brushed aside a lump of plaster that had fallen on to the counter. ‘That way the ceiling may hold up in this place for another year or two.’
Ronconi’s restaurant opposite the fountain was crowded. A patient queue of housewives vying to buy the few remaining sugarless cakes displayed in the window blocked the door. Tony pushed past them and the crowded confectionery counters into the restaurant. Almost every table was occupied by servicemen on leave and their girlfriends, but there was no sign of Gina.
‘Mr Tony,’ one of the older waitresses recognised and greeted him. It was the first time she had preceded his name with a ‘Mr’ but he was too preoccupied to notice. ‘Gina’s upstairs in the function room. It’s the only place she can get any peace and quiet to do the books.’
‘I’ll find her.’ He climbed the stairs. Gina was sitting on the fringe of a sea of empty tables, a pile of ledgers spread out in front of her.
‘Tony, it’s great to have you home.’ She rose from her chair and hugged him. Closer in age to Tony than Ronnie, she knew him well, and he had a thunderous look on his face that warned her he was on the point of losing the infamous Ronconi temper.
‘You’re earlier than we expected.’
‘You got my letter then?’
‘Last week. You been to the café?’
‘I saw Ronnie. He told me I’m sleeping in Laura’s.’
She nodded. ‘Luke and I are still living in Danycoedcae Road, but the place is full of evacuated families.
‘So I’ve been pushed out?’
‘I hope you don’t think you’ve been pushed anywhere. We thought you’d be more comfortable with Ronnie. And he could do with the company,’ she hinted, but he was too immersed in his recent discoveries to pick up on the veiled reference to Maud. ‘Tea? Are you hungry?’
‘Starving.’
‘They are still serving lunches downstairs, I’ll get them to send one up. What do you want?’
‘Whatever’s going. I’ve learned not to be fussy in the army.’
She walked over to the dumbwaiter set in the back wall of the room. Scribbling an order on the waitresses’ notepad clipped to her belt, she sent it down to the kitchen.
‘Why didn’t any of you write to tell me Diana Powell had got married?’
‘Because you never asked after her in any of your letters,’ she replied evenly, as she returned to the table.
‘You knew I was seeing her before I joined up.’
‘I also noticed that you’d stopped talking to her before you left.’ She closed the account books and piled them on a trolley behind her, straightening the tablecloth before reaching for the cutlery tray.
‘Didn’t it occur to you that I still might have been interested in Diana?’
‘If you’d still been interested, I assumed you would have written to tell her so. Have you seen her?’
‘I came home with William. We bumped into her and Wyn on our way through town.’
‘Then you’ve met her husband?’
‘Husband?’ he mocked.
‘She and Wyn are very happy.’
‘No girl could possibly be happy married to that queer. And don’t say he’s not. Everyone in town knows exactly what Wyn Rees is.’
‘As I said, they seem very happy,’ she reiterated quietly. Gina, like most of Diana’s friends, had been suspicious of the hasty marriage to Wyn and the arrival of Billy barely six months after the wedding, but until now they had remained just that, suspicions. If anyone had asked her at the time, she would have told them in no uncertain terms that a brother of hers would be incapable of deserting a pregnant girlfriend. Now, faced with Tony’s angry questioning, she wasn’t so sure.
‘Have you seen Mama lately?’ he asked, realising that his outrage had led him to give away more than he’d intended.
‘Not since just after Papa died.’ The sound of the lift moving grated into the room. She went to open it. Tony barely noticed what she was doing. All he could see, all he could think of, was the dark, Italian features of Diana’s baby. His son. A child who was going to grow up calling another man – a queer – ‘Daddy’ unless he did something about it. The question was: what?
‘Feel like a walk in the park?’ Diana asked, as she waylaid Wyn outside their New Theatre shop.
‘You got time before Billy needs feeding?’
‘Half an hour. We need to talk and we can never do that at home.’
They walked down Taff Street and turned into the lane alongside Woolworth’s. A few steps took them across the bridge that spanned the river, and they were instantly surrounded by green lawns and vegetable beds. Shunning the main thoroughfare and children’s playground where they were more likely to meet people they knew, they headed towards the dry-stone walls of the sunken garden, the town’s memorial to the men who hadn’t returned from the Great War. Looking out over the heart-shaped enclosure and seeing it was deserted, Wyn pushed the pram down the stone ramp. The raised flowerbeds were resplendent with the paintbox colours of budding tulips, daffodils and violets, but neither of them wanted to linger. Instead, by tacit agreement they directed their steps towards a bench at the far end.
‘It was only a matter of time before Tony came home on leave.’ Diana reached a
cross one of the armrests that divided the bench into individual seats and tucked her fingers into the crook of Wyn’s elbow.
‘I should have realised. I just never thought about him.’
‘Why should you? Everything’s been turned upside down by the war. We’ve had far more important things to worry about than Tony Ronconi.’
‘Because he was away I allowed myself to forget him. It was a stupid thing to do.’
‘It was the right thing to do. Tony is nothing to do with us.’
‘Didn’t you see the way he looked at Billy? He knows.’
‘Suspects, maybe; there’s no way he could possibly know for certain. And Tony coming back makes no difference to the way I feel about you, or our marriage.’ She meant what she said, but for the first time since she had married Wyn she was unable to meet his eye. She pretended to study a trail of ivy cascading over the wall behind his head as he looked from her to the baby.
‘Nothing can alter the fact that he is Billy’s father.’
‘Father!’ She turned an indignant face to his. ‘How can he be? Where was Tony when I was in labour? You, not Tony, held my hand and helped Bethan to deliver him, and he wasn’t the one who got up night after night when Billy needed feeding, or comforting when he had colic. He hasn’t bathed him and put him to bed every single night since he was born. No one could be more of a father to Billy than you, Wyn.’
‘Do you still love Tony?’
‘No,’ she answered decisively. ‘But I made the mistake of thinking I did. Whatever I felt for Tony ended the night he slept with me. You know, I don’t think he’s said a single word to me since – until today, that is, and then only because William was around.’ She stared down at her fine lace gloves. She’d peeled them off her hands and knotted the fingers so tightly she’d probably ruined them. ‘Wyn, you know more about me than anyone. You were the one who picked up the pieces, not once but twice. You’re the one I live with, the one I sleep beside every night.’
‘And the one who will never be a proper husband. Not the way a woman wants.’
‘I wouldn’t want any other kind.’ She shook the handle of the pram as Billy stirred. ‘We’re a family, Wyn. You’re my lifeline, my security, and not only mine, Billy’s too. Nothing can change that.’
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