Swansea Summer

by Catrin Collier

  ‘What about?’ Katie asked.

  ‘I’m not quite sure,’ Judy prevaricated, still raw from Brian’s rejection. She would have given anything to erase all memory of the humiliating episode from her memory.

  ‘What about you and Martin, Lily? Neither of you said a word on the way home from the Pier, or over lunch, come to think of it.’

  ‘Martin and I are just friends.’

  ‘Pull the other one.’ Judy dabbed spots of foundation along her forehead and down her nose.

  ‘We haven’t been going out together anywhere near as long as you and Brian.’ Lily sat on the windowsill.

  ‘But Martin adores you,’ Katie broke in defensively. ‘I know him, Lily, he’s loved you for years.’

  ‘Love is a pretty strong word to use after a few dates.’

  ‘But you do like him?’

  Lily looked back at Katie. She looked small and a little lost sitting alone on Helen’s bed. ‘I wouldn’t have gone out with him if I hadn’t liked him.’

  ‘Then everything will be all right between you, you’ll see.’

  ‘You won’t say anything to him, will you?’ Lily was alarmed at the thought that Martin might think she’d appealed to his sister to intercede between them on her behalf.

  ‘About what?’ Katie picked up Judy’s teddy bear and cuddled it.

  ‘That I’ve talked to you about him.’

  ‘You haven’t said anything other than you like him and I think he’s gathered that much himself by now.’ She watched Judy shake more foundation on to her fingertips. ‘You always make putting make-up on look so easy.’

  ‘It’s just practice. And before you ask any more about Brian and me, I haven’t a clue where I am with him. Last night he suggested I should take some time to think things over and let him know how I feel about staying in London or coming back here after I’ve made my mind up.’

  ‘That sounds like good advice.’

  ‘Don’t you dare take his side, Katie Clay!’

  ‘What side? You admitted yourself on Friday night that you weren’t sure whether you loved him or not.’

  Judy smoothed the tinted cream over her chin and cheeks. ‘He said yesterday that he wanted to talk and we’ll have four hours to do it in on the journey back, more if there’s delays like there were on the way down.’

  ‘And if he asks you to marry him?’ Lily smiled.

  ‘Whatever he wants to talk about, I guarantee it’s not a proposal,’ Judy dismissed firmly. ‘Not after last night.’

  ‘But if it is, what would you say?’ For all her protestations that she didn’t want to get married, Lily couldn’t help wondering what she’d say if Martin asked her that very special question.

  ‘I haven’t a clue but “no” would definitely come into it,’ Judy lied as she pretended to concentrate on her make-up. She had never told the girls that Brian had proposed to her before they’d left Swansea – or that she’d turned him down.

  ‘I don’t believe you. If I had to bet on which one of us will get married next I’d put all my money on you,’ Lily mused thoughtfully.

  ‘I haven’t changed my mind about not getting married before I’m thirty.’ Judy had repeated the sentiment so often she began to wonder if she meant it. Marriage to any man would mean giving up her independence – not that independence in London was worth holding on to. But Brian had said so many harsh, hurtful things …

  ‘Given time, Brian might change it for you.’ Lily looked down at the garden and wondered if Martin was really studying as he had said he would.

  Judy set aside the foundation and reached for her rouge. ‘Katie’s a witness. I bet ten bob that you’ll race to the church the minute Martin asks you.’

  ‘Given his reaction to Jack and Helen getting married, I’d say he’s of the same opinion as Katie and preparing for a lifetime of bachelorhood.’ Not even knowing if Martin would ask her out again, Lily tried to make a joke of his reluctance.

  After checking that her rouge and foundation had been evenly applied, Judy closed her eyes and puffed a delicate coating of powder over her face. ‘I feel as if I’m getting ready for a funeral.’

  ‘If going back to London makes you feel that bad then don’t go,’ Katie cajoled again, hating the thought of Judy disappearing for months on end.

  ‘Don’t tempt me.’ Judy blotted the lipstick she’d applied with a ball of cotton wool before applying another coat.

  ‘Just tear up your ticket and unpack. I’ll help.’ Katie looked at the suitcase Judy had placed by the door as if she couldn’t wait to open it.

  ‘You’d be better off cashing in your ticket,’ Lily advised, ‘you might even get enough back to buy another set of underwear from the warehouse.’

  ‘You two aren’t helping one bit, do you know that?’ Moistening a block of mascara, Judy combed it through her lashes.

  ‘You’ll be back in the summer.’ Lily looked around the room. Although Judy had left a few childhood keepsakes and toys on her shelves, it had taken on a cold, impersonal air, as if the walls somehow knew they were no longer permanently lived in.

  ‘I’ve booked out the first two weeks in July … that’s if I’m not back before.’ Judy opened her purse, checked her ticket, pushed her hairbrush to the bottom of her handbag, refilled and slipped in her cosmetics bag and closed it. ‘And in the meantime you two could always come and see me.’

  ‘In London?’ Katie eyes rounded at the thought.

  ‘The hostel has camp beds friends can rent out for a shilling a night. There isn’t room for two beds in my room but if you decide to come at the same time I could ask one of the other girls to put one of you up.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t speak to the other girls,’ Lily said artfully.

  ‘Some are better than others. And perhaps I exaggerated their unfriendliness – just a little,’ Judy confessed.

  ‘Won’t the warden mind?’ Katie asked.

  ‘Not as long as you pay for your food.’

  ‘The pigswill?’

  ‘You’ve too good a memory, Lily,’ Judy reproached her. ‘Some meals aren’t too bad, some are terrible but we could always eat out. There are a few cafés around the area that aren’t too expensive.’ She looked earnestly at her friends. ‘Write to me.’

  ‘We have been.’

  ‘But write to me more often,’ she pleaded. ‘I have a feeling this visit is going to make my homesickness worse than ever.’

  ‘Judy,’ Joy shouted from downstairs.

  ‘My mother always panics about time.’ Judy pulled on her gloves.

  ‘You and Brian walking to the station?’

  ‘He complained so much about the weight of my suitcase I ordered a taxi.’

  ‘We could come down and see you off,’ Lily offered.

  ‘I’d rather say goodbye here.’ Judy hugged Lily, then Katie. ‘Give Helen my love when you see her and tell her I know she’ll be busy but if she could find time to write to me, even just a note, I’d be grateful.’

  ‘We will.’ Lily and Katie followed her downstairs.

  ‘The taxi will be here in five minutes,’ Joy fussed. ‘Have you …’

  ‘I have everything, Mam.’ The doorbell rang and she opened the door.

  ‘You fit?’ Brian looked tall, dark and handsome in the suit he had worn to the wedding, a white shirt and a green tie she hadn’t seen before.

  ‘Just about.’ She met his steady gaze and her knees turned to jelly. Leaning against the doorpost for support, she considered what she was returning to. Her lonely life in the hostel in London, the work she neither enjoyed nor was particularly good at, the tedious train journey in front of her – the scathing and humiliating observations Brian had made the night before. ‘I’m sorry, Brian.’

  ‘For what?’

  As he looked at her she saw that he already knew. ‘I’m staying here.’

  Picking up his suitcase, Brian turned his back and walked away.

  ‘You’re sure you’re all right?’ Martin eyed
Brian with concern as they waited on the platform for the London train to arrive.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Brian answered testily.

  ‘It might be just as well Judy’s staying here,’ Sam chipped in, trying to think of something positive to say. ‘It was obvious you two weren’t getting along all that well and now you’ll be free to go out with any girl who takes your fancy …’ He fell silent as Martin kicked his ankle.

  ‘No need for tact or tragic looks.’ Brian adopted a cheerful tone that was at odds with the bleak expression in his eyes. ‘It’s not the first time I’ve lost a girlfriend and I dare say it won’t be the last. I survived before and I’ll survive now. As Sam has just said, there’s plenty more in London.’

  ‘That’s the spirit. Cigarette?’ Sam offered.

  ‘No thanks, the train will be here any minute and I’ve enough to carry.’

  ‘Brian!’

  The three of them turned to see Judy thrust a penny platform ticket at the guard at the gate. As he took it from her, she ran towards them, her coat thrown carelessly over her shoulders, her feet squelching in bedroom slippers that had become soaked along the way.

  Martin and Sam moved away as she charged up to Brian.

  ‘You will write,’ she gasped as she caught up with him.

  Brian wished he’d taken Sam up on his offer of a cigarette as he looked at her. It would have given him something to do with his hands.

  ‘Brian …’

  ‘If you’ve anything to say to me, Judy, you know where to find me,’ he said quietly, wishing the train would come.

  ‘I’m sorry …’

  ‘So am I.’ He picked up his suitcase as the signal clanked down and the train finally steamed into the station.

  Chapter Eight

  Martin glanced up from the mechanics manual he was attempting to study as Sam walked into the kitchen in his uniform trousers and shirt, carrying his tunic. ‘I didn’t know you were on duty.’

  ‘A week of nights, starting tonight,’ Sam complained. ‘The downside of getting yesterday off for the wedding and there’s a stain on this damn sleeve the sergeant’s bound to spot at inspection.’

  ‘Spot remover in the dresser drawer, tea in the pot.’ Martin closed the manual. Before he had spent an hour staring at diagrams he had been fairly confident that he knew all he needed to know about Ford engines. Now all he was sure of was there was a great deal he hadn’t covered – or had it been that he was too concerned about the strained silence between himself and Lily to concentrate?

  Sam glanced at his watch as he rummaged among the mess of elastic bands, pencils, rules and tubes of spent glue in the drawer. ‘Fortunately, I’m ahead of myself. I don’t need to be at the station for another hour, so it’s yes to that tea.’

  ‘You expect me to pour it for you?’ Martin asked indignantly.

  ‘You do it so well.’

  ‘Liar.’ Martin picked up a tea towel from the table and flung it at Sam, catching him on the side of the face.

  ‘That stung.’ Sam tossed it back on to the table. ‘Do you think Brian will be all right?’

  ‘Difficult to say.’ Martin took a clean mug from the dresser and set it next to his on the table. ‘He was pretty fond of Judy.’

  ‘Stupid bugger.’

  ‘Him or Judy?’

  ‘Both of them for quarrelling.’ Sam found the bottle of stain remover and placed it and the sleeve in the sink. ‘How’s the swotting going?’

  ‘It’s not.’ Martin poured out two mugs of tea.

  ‘That’s because you’re whacked. If I were you I’d get some fresh air before an early night.’ He winked suggestively. ‘Take the gorgeous Lily for a long walk down a dark alley.’

  ‘You’ve been talking to her,’ Martin broke in suspiciously.

  ‘Not since lunch in Mrs Hunt’s and you were there.’

  ‘You said something to her after I left.’

  ‘“Where do you want me to put the leftover mashed potato?” And forgive me for forgetting her reply,’ Sam answered carelessly. ‘I told you, Joe and I washed up.’

  ‘You didn’t say anything to her about me?’

  ‘Not that I can remember.’ He eyed Martin. ‘Why the Spanish Inquisition.’

  Martin sugared his tea and pulled his cigarettes from his shirt pocket.

  ‘Don’t tell me you two haven’t made it up since last night.’ Sam poured a little of the stain remover on to a corner of a tea towel and dabbed at the sleeve.

  ‘There’s nothing to make up,’ Martin said dismissively.

  ‘No?’ Sam questioned sceptically. ‘It was obvious you two had had a spat from the mournful silence on the way home.’

  ‘That stuff stinks.’ Taking the stain remover, Martin screwed the top back on the bottle.

  ‘Stinks maybe, but it’s done the trick.’ Sam held up his tunic and shook it out, before hanging it on the back of a chair.

  ‘I’d hate to be a criminal in Swansea tonight. You’ll gas them before you arrest them.’

  ‘And I hate to see two mates in trouble on the same day.’ Sam picked up his mug.

  ‘I am not in trouble.’

  ‘If Lily got the wrong end of the stick about what happened with Adam I could explain,’ Sam offered generously.

  ‘What’s to explain?’ Martin laid a cigarette next to Sam’s mug. ‘I lost my temper.’

  ‘Lucky for Brian that you did.’

  ‘He would have managed.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ Sam poured milk into his tea and heaped in three spoonfuls of sugar. ‘That kick you took on your shin was aimed at his stomach. I’ve seen what that can do. It’s not a pretty sight and the mopping up can take hours. Which reminds me, how’s your leg?’

  ‘Bruised.’

  ‘You should get it checked by a doctor.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Martin snapped irritably.

  ‘You’re not feeling guilty about clocking Adam, are you?’ Sam flicked his lighter and lit Martin’s cigarette before his own.

  ‘I was so mad I didn’t know what I was doing. If you and Brian hadn’t been there to stop me I could have killed him.’

  ‘Adam’s not that much of a wimp. Once he’d got his wind back he would have given as good as he got.’ Sam settled comfortably in one of the easy chairs with his tea.

  ‘That’s not the point. Suppose I lose my rag with someone else, you – Lily …’

  ‘You only lost your temper with Adam because Brian was threatened. And you weren’t the only one who saw red. If I could have got between them before you, Adam wouldn’t have stood a chance.’

  ‘That’s because you’re a trained police officer.’

  ‘Forget training. I lost my cool just like you. But, unlike you, I’m not frightened of losing it.’ He hesitated, then asked, ‘Is it because of your father?’

  ‘What do you know about my father?’ Martin bristled defensively.

  ‘I’ve heard stories.’ Sam swung his legs on to the seat of one of the kitchen chairs.

  ‘The people in this town never let up. He’s dead and buried.’

  ‘People love gossip.’ Sam inhaled on his cigarette. ‘And from what I’ve heard he gave them plenty to talk about.’

  ‘He was a vicious bastard, end of story,’ Martin said shortly, with the intention of putting an end to the conversation.

  ‘Are you afraid of losing your temper because he was always losing his?’ Sam questioned with uncharacteristic insight.

  Martin drew heavily on his cigarette. ‘Probably,’ he conceded grudgingly.

  ‘One, I’ve lived with you for over a month now and you can take it from me, you’re a good guy. Two, people who are aware that they are likely to lose their temper take care to keep it under control except under extreme provocation. And if what Adam tried to do to Brian last night doesn’t come into that category I don’t know what does. And three, I’ve seen you with your sister and Lily. You’d slit your own throat before you’d touch a woman in anger.’

  ‘I
wish I had your confidence.’

  ‘Find it, Martin. Because the way you are now, you’re too scared to take what life is offering you on a plate and that’s sad.’ Sam looked him directly in the eye. ‘As much for the gorgeous Lily as you.’

  ‘The gorgeous Lily has Joe.’

  ‘I watched Joe and Lily today and she doesn’t look at him the way she looks at you.’

  A glimmer of a smile appeared on Martin’s face. ‘You think so?’

  ‘I know so,’ Sam pronounced decisively, ‘so why don’t you go upstairs and ask her if she feels like a walk. And while you’re there, put in a good word for me with your sister.’

  ‘You want to go out with Katie?’ Martin looked at him in surprise.

  ‘I’d like to, but she doesn’t seem to know I exist.’

  ‘She’s shy, particularly with men.’ Martin hadn’t spoken to Katie about her relationship with John Griffiths since the night she and John had told him they would marry as soon as his divorce was finalised. He wanted his sister to be happy but he couldn’t help feeling that Sam would make a more suitable husband for her than a man more than twice her age.

  Misunderstanding Martin’s silence, Sam sought to reassure him. ‘If you’re worried about my intentions, they are strictly honourable. They’d hardly be anything else when we all live in the same house. And if that’s not good enough for you …’ He grinned wickedly. ‘Remember, I saw what you did to Adam.’

  Lily sat back and watched Katie flick through the Sunday People. She stared at various pictures and articles but from the blank expression on her face Lily doubted whether a single image or word was registering. Setting aside the stocking she’d repaired with one of her own hairs, she reached for the kettle. ‘Do you fancy a cup of tea?’

  ‘I suppose we ought to think about laying the table,’ Katie answered, in a tone that suggested she wanted to do anything but.

  ‘If we do, it’ll only be for us. Mrs Hunt had a list of jobs a mile long for Uncle Roy, so he’ll be eating tea over there.’

  ‘Perhaps we should invite Judy over.’

  ‘She made it clear she wanted to be alone for a while. I think we should respect that, at least for today.’