‘We can’t just sweep it under the carpet,’ she persisted.
‘We can for tonight.’ He tapped his foot as the band went into a swinging version of ‘Rock-a-Beatin’ Boogie.’ ‘Dance?’
She knew he was right to want to drop the subject but she couldn’t leave it alone. ‘Look …’
‘No, you look,’ he interrupted, allowing his irritation to surface. ‘You were the one who wanted to be footloose and fancy free. Have you changed your mind?’
She fell silent.
‘Dance?’ he repeated, looking towards the floor where Martin and Lily, and Katie and Sam were jiving.
As she rose to her feet, Adam barged into their table with a full pint glass sending it and their drinks rocking.
‘There are plenty of girls out there looking for partners.’ Brian was aware that Adam was on his fourth drink, when he’d just bought everyone else’s second.
‘You and Martin have staked claims on the only two worth dancing with,’ Adam slurred.
Judy realised the mention of ‘two’ meant Katie’s rejection was still a sore point. ‘That’s rubbish, Adam. And if you want to dance with either Lily or me, you only have to ask.’
‘Brian wouldn’t let you.’
‘Brian doesn’t own me.’ She smiled at Brian as she pulled Adam on to the dance floor.
Brian had to allow that even half cut, Adam was a better dancer than he was. He and Judy looked good together, so good that a dozen or so couples stopped dancing, formed a circle around them and began to clap.
‘You allowed Adam to borrow Judy.’ Martin sat beside him and idly twirled Lily’s empty glass, tracing the lines of the deer transfer with his finger.
‘He’s well on the way to getting sozzled again. I thought the exercise might help.’
‘That was generous of you.’
‘Judy and I were only arguing anyway. It’s what we do most of these days.’ Brian took the cigarette Martin handed him. ‘Where’s Lily?’
‘Ladies. Something she didn’t want me to know about snapped under her dress.’ He lifted the glass of beer Brian had bought him. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’ Brian sipped his pint again before lighting their cigarettes. ‘As soon as this dance finishes, I think we should take Adam to one side and tell him what really happened, or rather didn’t, between him and Lifebuoy Lettie last night. It’s too late to stop him from getting plastered but it might slow his pace.’
‘He won’t be happy with us,’ Martin cautioned.
‘We can’t put it off any longer.’
‘I suppose not.’
‘And we can always blame Jack.’
‘I’d agree, if Jack had emigrated to Australia as opposed to gone on a two-week honeymoon in London.’ Martin reflected that he couldn’t stop playing the big brother, even now when Jack was married with his own responsibilities. ‘Adam may have a temper but Jack has a worse one and I dread to think what might happen if Adam tried to have a go at him.’
‘And if we allow Adam to go on thinking he jumped Lettie he might say something to her and then we’d look like right idiots,’ Brian pointed out.
‘You still volunteering?’
Brian thought before answering. ‘Why not. Seeing as I’m leaving tomorrow, he won’t be able to get at me for a while.’
‘It might be better if the three of us tell him. He can hardly take us all on.’
‘I’ll go with that,’ Brian agreed.
‘So, bearing in mind that I’m only trying to help, what were you and Judy arguing about?’ Martin ventured.
‘Nothing – everything – stupid niggles every couple quarrel over.’ Brian looked at Judy and Adam again. ‘Rock-a-Beatin’ Boogie’ had given way to ‘Unchained Melody’ played in waltz time. Adam had one hand on Judy’s shoulder the other round her waist, but she was careful to keep him at arm’s length. He wondered if she’d bother if he weren’t around – like back in London – and she were here permanently.
‘Lily and I have never had an argument.’
‘Go out with her much longer and you will.’ Brian turned his back to the dance floor and picked up his beer.
A shiver of foreboding ran through Martin, as he saw Joe and his friend Robin Watkin Morgan walk into the room and head for the bar. There was only one reason why Joe Griffiths would lower himself to enter a public dance hall on a Saturday night. How could he possibly compete with all Joe had to offer? And given his background and prospects, did he even have the right to try?
Jack sat on one of the chairs in the hotel bedroom watching Helen as she moved around, tidying away clothes, pushing her stockings into the laundry bag, brushing out her hair, securing it with a band and cleaning off her make-up with cold cream and cotton wool. Despite his misgivings, the meal in the restaurant had been good – very good. After three courses and two pints of Worthington he felt sated and, looking at Helen, blissfully happy and just the slightest bit smug.
‘You look like the cat that’s got the cream.’ She picked up her toilet bag, nightdress and negligee.
‘I know just how he feels. That restaurant,’ he blurted uneasily, ‘it was nice. Thank you for insisting we went there.’
‘Are you saying I was right and you were wrong?’ she teased.
‘If it had been up to me, I would have looked in and walked away, and we would have ended up eating fish and chips on the street corner.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with fish and chips on the street corner – in between visits to restaurants,’ she qualified.
‘I’ve a feeling you’re going to change the way I look at things along with my life, Mrs Clay.’ Catching her round her waist, he pulled her on to his lap and kissed her. As she linked her hands round his neck and responded, he tugged her blouse free from her skirt.
‘Not as much as you’ve changed mine, Mr Clay. And I’m surprised you can move, let alone think what you’re thinking after the meal you’ve just eaten.’
‘You’re too full?’ He stopped slipping the buttons on her blouse from their loops.
‘No, but I was about to have a bath. Then again’ – her fingers wandered to his belt – ‘we could have one later.’
‘Together!’
‘Why not, the bath is big enough.’ She was amused by the shocked expression on his face.
‘What if someone sees us?’
‘You heard the manageress say no one else is staying on this floor and I was going to lock the door.’
‘But if anyone came up the stairs they might hear us and know we were in there.’
‘We’re married, Jack. It’s legal.’
Picking her up, he swung her high into his arms and on to the bed. ‘God, you’re wonderful.’
‘I know.’ Pulling him close to her, she kissed him.
‘You what?’ Adam’s eyes gleamed, ice-blue and furious, as he glared at Brian in the men’s cloakroom.
‘Played a practical joke on you,’ Brian repeated, taken aback by the venom in Adam’s voice.
‘It was a stag night and I wasn’t the bridegroom.’
‘It was just a joke, Adam.’ Turning off the tap, Martin shook his hands over the sink before drying them on the roller towel.
‘Which I don’t find in the least funny.’
‘We were amazed you swallowed it,’ Sam broke in blithely. ‘Even allowing that you were out of your skull, we never thought you’d believe you’d made a play for Lifebuoy Lettie.’
‘How did that lipstick get all over me?’ Adam questioned coldly.
‘We drew it on you.’ Brian gave Martin and Sam a warning look.
‘On my underpants, which I had to throwaway along with my shirt.’
‘You didn’t need to do that,’ Martin protested. ‘It would have washed off.’
‘You think I could have allowed my mother to see them?’
‘You could have washed them yourself,’ Martin remonstrated.
‘Unlike you, Martin, I have a family who care about me enough to do my washing.’
‘Steady on, Adam, that’s uncalled for,’ Brian reprimanded.
‘Is it?’ Adam turned on Brian. ‘And what else did you do to me when I was out of it?’
‘Nothing,’ Brian said firmly.
‘And which one of you has taken to wearing lipstick?’
‘We borrowed it.’ Brian shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other.
‘From the girls.’
Given the problems between Adam and Katie, Brian decided to bend the truth. ‘I told Judy we wanted it to play a joke on Jack.’
‘And you expect me to believe that.’
‘It’s the truth. Come on, Adam,’ Brian coaxed, ‘if it had been one of us, you’d see the funny side.’
‘But it wasn’t one of you. It was me. And you stripped me in front of the girls …’
‘The girls weren’t there.’ Brian leaned against the sink, as he looked Adam squarely in the eye. ‘And we stopped at your underpants.’
‘And which one of you bastards kissed my pants?’
‘You didn’t think … Adam, I swear none of us kissed you.’ Brian was horrified that Adam could even think one of them had actually worn the lipstick. ‘We drew a pair of lips on an orange and pressed it all over your chest and on your pants. And that’s the absolute truth.’
‘None of us touched you with anything except that orange,’ Martin added solemnly.
‘We’ll swear it on a Bible if you want us to …’ Sam began.
‘You all still had a bloody good laugh at my expense.’ Turning his back on them, Adam pulled his comb from his pocket and ran it through the styled quiff that had cost him seven shillings and sixpence as opposed to the half-crown he used to pay for his short back and sides.
‘It was a joke, Adam.’ Martin offered Adam a cigarette.
‘A childish one,’ Brian granted. ‘And I admit, we went over the top with the lipstick and scent …’
‘That I gave Katie.’ Ignoring Martin’s proffered cigarette, Adam was careful to keep his back turned, but Brian saw him watching them in the mirror.
‘Not the bottle we splashed over you. I borrowed it from Judy along with the lipstick.’ Unaccustomed to lying, Brian felt now he’d started he’d never stop.
‘How about we apologise by paying for your beer for what’s left of tonight and any other night you choose? Come on, mate.’ Martin laid his hand on Adam’s shoulder. Turning, Adam lashed out, hitting Martin’s hand from his shoulder and knocking his cigarettes from his other hand.
‘Hey, there’s no need for that.’ Concerned that Adam was about to hit out again, Brian stepped between him and Martin.
Drawing back his fist, Adam punched Brian with all the strength he could muster, sending him reeling into a cubicle. Martin realised that Adam was about to follow his punch with a kick, so he blocked Brian’s body with his own, taking the kick Adam had intended for Brian on his own shin. Staggering, fighting pain and nausea, he pushed forward, forcing Adam away from the cubicle and Brian, who remained crouched double on the floor.
Adam’s features contorted in ugly, naked violence as he closed his hands into tight fists. But Martin didn’t see his fists, he was mesmerised by Adam’s face – the face of a vicious, cowardly bully just like his father. He couldn’t hit his father any more but he could hit Adam … Curling his right hand into a ball, he pounded it into Adam’s jaw … and again … and again …
‘Enough!’ Sam yelled.
‘Martin, for God’s sake stop!’
Brian’s command penetrated Martin’s rage. Trembling, he slowly unclenched his fingers. Staring at Martin, Adam moved unsteadily from the corner he had been driven into.
‘It’s all right, nothing to worry about,’ Sam shouted unconvincingly to a crowd of boys who gave them nervous looks before backing out through the door. Sam glanced from Martin to Adam. As they were both on their feet, he went to Brian who was still slumped in the cubicle. ‘You all right?’
‘Just about.’ Brian took the hand Sam offered and stumbled clumsily towards him.
‘You’re bleeding.’ Sam handed Brian his handkerchief.
‘I’ll survive.’ Brian made his way to the mirror. His lip had split and blood was flowing down his chin. Stumbling to the sink, he filled the bowl with cold water and threw in Sam’s handkerchief.
Sam went to Adam. ‘That eye doesn’t look too clever. Neither does your jaw. It’s beginning to swell.’
‘Leave me alone.’ Adam shoved Sam away.
‘Martin, your hand …’
‘I’ll be fine.’ Nauseous, shaking from the shock of losing control for the first time in his life, Martin sank down on his heels. Leaning against the wall, he lowered his head between his legs as much to avoid looking at the others as to recover.
‘Satisfied, Adam?’ Brian wrung out the cloth and staunched his cut, wincing as cold water trickled into the wound.
‘Satisfied! A stinking coward like you never gives satisfaction. You can’t even fight your own battles …’
‘Martin only stepped in because you knocked me off my feet,’ Brian protested.
‘And tried to put the boot in,’ Sam reminded him. ‘So I wouldn’t mention the word coward again if I were you, Adam.’
‘Butt out, Sam. This isn’t anything to do with you,’ Adam retorted viciously.
‘You want to have a go at these two for playing a joke on you, have a go at me as well. I was as much a part of it as them,’ Sam asserted boldly.
‘You didn’t duck and run when I called you to account.’
‘You want a rematch you can have it.’ Brian fingered his torn and bloody lip as he studied the damage in the mirror. ‘Although I can’t see that beating one another’s brains out will accomplish anything, other than prove you’re a bigger idiot than I take you for now, for wanting to do it.’
Adam lifted his fist again, but Sam was waiting for him. Catching it, he pulled him off balance and away from Brian.
‘Three against one.’ Adam gripped the roller towel with his free hand for support. ‘The way chickens fight.’
‘You threw the first punch and caught Brian off guard,’ Sam countered forcefully. ‘And God knows what you would have done if Martin hadn’t stepped in. You should be thanking him, not still trying to chuck your weight around.’
‘Me, thank him.’ Adam sneered at Martin who was still crouched on the floor.
‘If you’ve any sense, you’ll do just that, the minute you sober up,’ Brian advised.
‘And if I don’t, you’ll arrest me for punching a police officer,’ Adam taunted.
‘You don’t know when to drop it, do you, Adam.’ Brian turned away from the mirror.
‘I do know it will be a long time before I forget this and in the meantime you’d all better look out.’
Brian nodded to Sam. He relaxed his hold. Shrugging him off, Adam left the cloakroom. His threat had sounded ridiculous but none of them was smiling.
Brian helped Martin up from the floor. ‘You all right?’
Martin nodded unconvincingly.
‘Shall we go back and join the girls?’
‘You and Sam go ahead, I’ll be with you in a minute.’ Still shaking, Martin went into a cubicle. Before Sam and Brian could open the door they heard him retching.
‘Do you realise this is not only the very first time we’ve lain together in a bed, it’s also the longest we’ve been beside one another naked without anything happening?’
‘Only because you’ve worn me out.’ Helen wrapped her arm round Jack’s chest and snuggled even closer.
‘I’ve worn you out!’
‘No tickling,’ she squealed as his fingers crawled lightly over her ribs.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m asking nicely.’ As he desisted she burrowed her head down on to his shoulder. ‘This is nice. I’ve never shared a bed with anyone before.’
‘Never?’ he asked, amazed at the thought. ‘None of your girlfriends …’
‘Not t
hat I can remember.’
‘I’ve always shared with Martin, but’ – he kissed her forehead as he wound his arm round her – ‘you’re nicer.’
‘Is that meant to be a compliment?’
‘I’ll do better tomorrow morning when I’m not so tired.’ He yawned.
Exhausted, she closed her eyes. Tomorrow morning and every morning for the rest of her life she’d wake next to the man she loved. It was a thought that stayed with her, sweetening her dreams. And when Jack woke with a start two hours later, disorientated and not knowing where he was for a moment, he looked at her face, dim in the light of the street lamp that shone through the curtains, realised she was smiling and sank back to sleep, revelling in that same certainty.
‘What have you two been doing?’ Judy asked as Brian and Sam returned to their table.
‘Nothing much,’ Brian snapped, warning her off prying.
‘Funny “nothing” that splits your lip.’
‘Drop it, Judy.’ He held out his hand. ‘Dance?’
Realising she might get more out of him once they were on the dance floor, Judy followed him.
‘Dance, Katie?’
Before Katie had a chance to reply, she caught sight of Martin walking towards their table. Unlike Brian, he bore no outward scars but she only had to look at him, even in the dim lighting of the ballroom, to know something was wrong. Leaving her seat she ran up to him. ‘Martin …’
‘I’m fine.’ Martin saw Sam standing waiting. ‘Go and dance with Sam, Katie.’
Knowing when to leave her brother alone, Katie gave Martin a backward glance as she walked away.
‘Do you want to talk about what happened?’ Lily asked, as Martin joined her at the table.
‘No.’
His hands were shaking so much that Lily decided not to pursue it. She glanced over her shoulder to the bar where Adam was standing alone, drinking. Even from that distance she could see red blotches on his face, especially round the jawline. Adam saw her looking at him and gestured rudely.
‘I’m sorry you had to see that.’
She turned back to Martin. ‘Why should you be sorry because Adam’s being childish?’
‘Because he’s trying to get at me through you,’ he acknowledged.
‘You did something to him.’
Swansea Summer Page 10