‘Perhaps it’s envy.’ Lily blushed as Brian and Sam burst out laughing. ‘I mean Jack and Helen going to London,’ she amended hastily, as she realised how her comment could be misconstrued. ‘Seeing the sights, going to theatres, eating in restaurants …’
‘Lucky them, two whole weeks with nothing to do but have fun,’ Brian moaned.
‘You live in London.’ Martin pulled up a chair and joined them at the table.
‘I saw more sights on one weekend leave when I was doing National Service than in the month I’ve lived there.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ Martin asked.
‘You try working shifts and see how much time it leaves you during normal opening hours. And even when I get an afternoon or evening off, Judy’s usually working and it’s no fun seeing sights by yourself.’
‘She said she was fed up,’ Lily concurred.
‘She did?’ The biscuit Brian had been dunking in his tea dissolved, bloating out on the surface like a mushroom.
Too late Lily remembered Judy’s warning that she hadn’t told Brian how she felt about living in London. ‘It was only something she mentioned in passing.’
‘Exactly what did she say?’ Brian’s voice was soft – ominously so.
‘What you just said, that she works long hours and most afternoons and evenings.’ The more Lily attempted to cover her embarrassment, the more she sensed she was arousing Brian’s suspicions but the words kept tumbling out. ‘That because she’s the most junior person in the make-up department she gets the blame for everything that goes wrong and none of the praise …’
‘She hasn’t said a word to me,’ Brian interrupted testily.
‘Perhaps she didn’t think it was important. You’ve only been there a month, hardly had time to settle in.’
‘That makes sense,’ Martin came to Lily’s rescue.
‘I suppose so.’
Something in Brian’s tone told Lily he wasn’t convinced. Looking for an excuse to leave, she finished her tea and carried her cup to the sink. ‘I’d better hang my new clothes away before they crease.’
‘Pick you up at half past seven.’ Martin helped her gather her bags.
‘I’ll be ready.’ Lily looked to Katie. ‘You coming?’
‘After I’ve finished the mending.’
‘You don’t have to do it today of all days,’ Martin chided.
‘I may as well. I’ve nothing better to do.’
Martin looked at Lily. They both knew something had upset Katie. But neither of them could think what.
Brian went up to the attic bedroom that Roy had generously insisted he occupy for the weekend because Sam had rented his old room in the basement. Taking a clean shirt, he washed and changed in the bathroom but no matter how he tried to concentrate on other things, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Lily had said. The more he considered it, the more he realised Judy had been distant the last couple of times he’d taken her out in London. She had also been sharper with him since they had travelled down together on Friday night but he’d made allowances for her apparent hostility, putting her edginess down to the strain of returning home for the first time since moving away.
After giving his shoes a quick brush, he ran down the stairs, out through the front door and along the street to Judy’s house. It was ten minutes to five, but she opened the door at his first knock.
‘I’m early.’
‘I’ll forgive you,’ She ushered him into the hall. ‘Tea’s ready.’
‘And in the parlour.’ He glanced round the door to see a white damask cloth on her mother’s best rosewood table and two plates of sandwiches and one of cakes. ‘To what do I owe the honour?’
‘You are a guest.’
‘I was hoping I was closer than that.’ He walked into the room and saw a pile of estate-agents’ brochures on one of the chairs.
‘Excuse the mess.’ Judy picked them up and was about to push them under a cushion when he took them from her.
He flicked through them – they all detailed commercial premises. ‘Your mother is moving the salon?’
‘Thinking of opening another one.’
‘Business must be good.’
‘It is,’ she answered abruptly, retrieving the brochures. ‘Sit down. I’ll make the tea. And in case you’re wondering, this isn’t all we’re having. I made a trifle specially last night.’
Unimpressed by the promise of trifle, he remained on his feet. ‘Who’s going to run the second business for her, Judy?’
Unable to meet his penetrating gaze, Judy picked up the teapot from the table. ‘She’ll oversee both salons.’
‘There’s no way one hairdresser can run two salons. Who is going to run the second business?’ The question hung unanswered between them for an eternity before he broke the silence. ‘You’re coming back to Swansea, aren’t you?’
‘Nothing’s been decided.’ She replaced the teapot on the table and sank down on a chair.
‘You appear to have discussed your plans with everyone except me.’
‘Just because there are a few estate agents’ brochures …’
‘It’s not just the brochures,’ he interrupted angrily. ‘Lily let slip that you weren’t happy in London.’
‘She had no right …’
‘She didn’t do it deliberately,’ he countered, refusing to get sidetracked into an argument about Lily. ‘She probably assumed that as I was your boyfriend you’d talked about it to me.’ He looked at her hard for a full minute. ‘For pity’s sake, Judy, I thought we had something going for us. When I asked you to marry me and you refused because you needed more time, I agreed. Going to London was your idea not mine. It was me who followed you up there, not the other way round. And now I discover that you couldn’t even bring yourself to tell me that you’re miserable up there and making plans to come back!’
‘I told you I don’t like the job, I hardly ever see you …’
‘There’s a world of difference between saying you’re unhappy at work and making full-blown plans to return to your mother’s apron strings.’
‘That’s unfair.’ Unable to meet his penetrating gaze, she stared down at the carpet.
‘Is it?’
‘I told you, nothing’s been decided.’
‘Of course not.’ He hit the brochures in her hand. ‘That’s why your mother went to all the trouble of getting these.’
‘She’s only looking.’
‘I’ve been a complete fool. I didn’t even see what was under my nose. I asked if you were carrying bricks when I lifted your case on and off the train. It weighed ten times as much as mine and I still didn’t get it. When you packed to come back this weekend, did you leave anything in your room in the hostel? Did you?’ he repeated furiously, when she refused to look at him.
‘My room in the hostel isn’t secure,’ she murmured in a small voice.
‘So you’re not returning with me tomorrow.’
‘I told you, nothing’s been decided.’
‘Seems to me you’ve decided too damn much.’
‘Where are you going?’ she asked, alarmed as he opened the door to the porch.
‘Back to London tomorrow.’
‘Brian, please.’ She slipped between him and the door, kicking it shut with the heel of her shoe. For the first time since he had taken the brochures from her, she looked him straight in the eye. ‘We need to talk about this.’
‘Too bloody right. I’d say a couple of weeks ago would have been a good time.’ Lifting her by the shoulders, he moved her aside.
She laid a hand on his elbow, hoping to waylay him. ‘I care for you.’
‘Funny way you have of showing it.’
‘But coming back here this weekend, seeing my mother and the girls, made me realise how much I miss them. It’s different for you …’
‘How?’ he enquired frostily.
‘You love your job. You’ve made friends in the Met. Outside of you I have no one and I hardly ever see you …’
Incensed by her own weakness she fought back tears. She had always despised women who resorted to crying to gain sympathy.
‘You should have told me.’
‘I didn’t want to spoil things for you. You seemed so happy, so full of work plans and talk of promotion …’ As her tears finally fell, Brian handed her his handkerchief.
She blew her nose and looked up at him. ‘Please, Brian …’ Choking on her sobs, she buried her face in her hands.
Opening his arms he held her tight, pulling her head down on to his chest.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I should have talked to you about how I felt and now I’ve got mascara all over your shirt.’
‘You can wash it.’
‘I will,’ she replied seriously, looking through the door to the tea table. ‘I wanted this to be special, just the two of us. I thought we’d have time to talk this weekend but the train was so crowded we couldn’t even sit together on the way down and since then you’ve spent all your time with Martin and the boys …’
‘Just as you’ve spent yours with Lily and the girls.’
‘That wasn’t a criticism, just a statement of fact.’
‘So now what?’ His mind raced as he stood back and looked at her. He’d had many girlfriends but none had made him feel the way Judy did and he didn’t even want to think about how much he’d miss her if she left London – and him – for good.
‘I’ll talk to my mother and go back with you tomorrow.’
‘Don’t go for my sake,’ he snapped, allowing his damaged pride to show.
‘Lily’s right, I haven’t given London a chance,’ she conceded, in an attempt to diffuse his anger. ‘A month’s no time and perhaps if I made more of an effort I’d make friends. Then I wouldn’t be so reliant on you.’
‘And that would make a difference?’
‘No couple can depend solely on one another for company. Not when they work the hours we do.’ She looked up at him. ‘I will try harder, Brian.’
‘And if it doesn’t work out?’
‘You’ll be the first to know if I do decide to come back.’
He gripped her hand. ‘Promise.’
‘I promise,’ she reiterated solemnly. ‘Shall we eat now?’
He hesitated for a fraction of a second. ‘It would be a pity to waste all that food.’
‘Then I’ll make some tea.’
‘Your auntie said you were on honeymoon, so I thought you’d like some privacy.’ The manageress of the small hotel Dot had recommended led Jack and Helen up the stairs to the third floor. ‘There’s only two rooms on this floor and one bathroom, but no one has booked into the other room for the next two weeks and we’re not expecting anyone. It’s a small single, so it tends to be the last to go, and it is very early in the season. I hope you’ll be comfortable.’ She opened the door on a double bedroom furnished with two easy and two upright chairs, a table, dressing table, wardrobe, bedside cabinets and the largest double bed Jack had ever seen.
‘It’s lovely.’ Helen looked around. ‘Wine and fruit and flowers, are they for us?’
‘The fruit and wine are from Mrs Green, the flowers are on the house.’
‘Thank you.’ Helen smiled.
‘It’s nice to have some young people around. Most of our guests are commercial travellers. Breakfast is from seven until nine. We don’t do any other meals, but there are several restaurants in the area. There’s a very reasonable Italian on the corner that opens every lunchtime and from six to ten o’clock at night.’
‘Thank you.’ Jack dropped the suitcases in front of the wardrobe. ‘You’ve been very kind.’
‘If you want anything, extra soap, towels, just ring.’
‘We will.’
‘Enjoy your stay.’ The housekeeper suppressed a smile as she closed the door on them. Jack waited until he heard her step on the stairs before sweeping Helen into his arms and pulling her down on the bed.
‘Comfortable enough for you?’ she asked.
‘I’ll tell you in five minutes.’ He pulled off his tie and tossed his jacket on to one of the chairs.
‘You’re insatiable.’
‘Yes.’ He kissed her.
‘What about food?’ she asked as she came up for air.
‘You hungry?’
‘I will be afterwards.’
He glanced at his watch. ‘Then let’s hope that Italian place is as good as the manageress says it is.’ He pulled his shirt over his head, slipped off his trousers and underpants, and climbed between the sheets.
Opening the suitcase she removed a long flowing white nylon negligee set. ‘I won’t be a minute.’ When she came back he was sitting up in bed reading.
‘Very nice.’ He watched as she twirled around and slipped the negligee from her shoulders to reveal a white silk nightdress with plunging back and neckline.
‘You brought a book on your honeymoon,’ she complained. ‘That’s not very flattering.’
‘It’s a book the doctor recommended.’ Closing it, he put it on the bedside table.
‘You’re ill.’
‘I asked him about us, if we could hurt the baby, by making love.’
‘He’s too well protected.’
‘You know?’
‘I asked him when I went to get the results of the pregnancy test.’ She picked up the book and thumbed through the pages. ‘Jack, this is …’ Her voice tailed off as she flicked from one image to another.
‘Well illustrated. The doctor said it was a sort of handbook on how married couples can make one another happy.’
Shocked, she closed the book and returned it to his bedside table. ‘You already do that.’
He turned back the bedclothes. ‘I’ll do a whole lot more if you take that off and climb in here beside me.’
‘Wow! Scarlet woman!’ Brian exclaimed, coming up from the basement, as Lily walked down the stairs in her new frock.
‘Thank you, kind sir.’ When Lily had checked in her bedroom mirror earlier she could scarcely believe she was looking at herself. The crimson dress complemented her black hair, emphasised her slender waist and lent a glow to her cheeks and lips that made her feel positively glamorous for the first time in her life.
‘Not a word for us.’ Judy left the lounge and twirled in front of Brian in the brown satin polka dot dress she had finally settled on in the warehouse. With short, elasticised sleeves that could be pushed off the shoulder, it was the most daring evening frock she had ever owned.
‘Me first. Note, clean shirt.’ He flipped back his jacket and showed off a mascara-free shirt-front. ‘And triple wow. Both you and Katie look stunning,’ he told them sincerely, as Katie followed Judy in a short-sleeved, plain white cotton blouse and tightly belted, wide, pale-blue cotton skirt. Compared with Lily and Judy, she was ‘dressed down’ but somehow the plain clothes added attraction to her sweet features and enormous brown eyes. He caught himself giving her a second glance and quickly smiled at Judy lest she notice and get the wrong idea.
‘Thank you.’
Katie spoke so quietly that Brian couldn’t be sure he’d heard her. He looked enquiringly at Judy. She shook her head, warning him off, as the doorbell rang.
Lily opened the door.
Martin stood on the step in the new suit he had bought for the wedding wearing a clean white shirt and a blue tie she had given him. ‘You look fantastic. That is a smashing dress.’
‘That deserves a kiss.’
‘Not in broad daylight.’ Aware of Joe Griffiths watching them from his doorstep, Martin tried to avoid her.
‘You’re a prude.’ Oblivious to Joe’s presence, Lily grabbed the lapels of Martin’s suit and planted a kiss on his cheek.
‘Hello, Lily … Martin,’ Joe called out in a deadpan tone.
Martin nodded a reply but to his annoyance Lily gave Joe a broad smile.
‘Hello, Joe. Sorry, didn’t see you there. It was a lovely wedding, wasn’t it.’
‘Considering it was Helen’s
, everything went relatively smoothly.’ Joe locked his front door and went to his father’s car, which was parked in front of the house.
‘You coming in?’ Lily asked Martin.
‘Not if we’re catching the eight-o’clock train.’
‘I only have to get my coat and handbag.’
‘Sam and Adam coming?’ Brian offered Martin a cigarette as he walked into the porch.
‘Sam’s giving Adam a shout now.’
‘He’s recovered?’ Judy asked.
‘From what?’ Martin enquired, puzzled by Judy’s question.
‘Whatever Brian fed him last night.’
‘There were five of us last night and you have to blame me.’ Brian helped Judy on with her coat.
‘Only because I know what you’re like.’ Judy tempered her sharp words with a smile.
‘Charming. My girlfriend doesn’t trust me.’
‘If we’re going to catch the eight-o’clock train, we ought to be going.’ Katie lifted her coat from the stand and walked on ahead.
‘What’s up with Katie?’ Martin whispered to Lily as she stopped to lock the door.
‘I have no idea. She seemed fine this morning and all through the wedding. I tried to talk to her when we were getting ready, but you know Katie. It’s impossible to get anything out of her unless she’s ready to tell you.’
‘I’ll give it a go.’
‘If I were you, I’d wait until she comes to you.’
‘Knowing her, she’ll just let whatever it is fester.’ As they stopped at the corner and waited for Sam and Adam to catch up with them, Martin glanced at his sister who was standing silently next to Judy and Brian. Katie couldn’t have chipped a word in edgewise between those two, even if she’d wanted to. But she showed no inclination to join him and Lily.
‘You can’t push people into talking when they don’t want to, Marty,’ Lily murmured.
‘If I’d pushed Jack at times I might have stopped him from thieving and going to Borstal and, maybe, having to get married at eighteen.’
‘You wouldn’t have stopped him from seeing Helen,’ she said lightly. ‘Wild horses wouldn’t have kept those two apart.’
‘Perhaps not,’ he granted, ‘but if I’d given him a good talking-to when I came back from the army …’
Swansea Summer Page 8