‘I don’t think there’s time, unless you delay the wedding for a few weeks.’
‘Come with me to see Taff. Johnny will probably be there and we can scrounge a cup of tea and a sandwich.’
‘Do you mind if I call for the boys first?’ Eirlys asked. ‘I try to give Mam and Dadda a break from them when I can.’
After collecting Stanley, Harold and Percival they went to Bleddyn and Irene’s house but it was empty.
‘Of course, they’ll be at the chip shop, won’t they?’ Eirlys said.
‘I thought today was his father’s Saturday off.’ Evelyn frowned.
‘Never mind, we’ll go for a walk instead.’
‘A walk to the chip shop?’ Stanley said hopefully.
‘I ’ates walking,’ Percival complained.
* * *
Bleddyn Castle had gone to see his brother to discuss the wedding of his son to Evelyn. As usual the house was full, with Huw and his wife Marged entertaining Marged’s mother, Granny Moll, her sister Audrey and Audrey’s fiancé of many years, Wilf Thomas.
‘Where are the kids?’ Bleddyn asked as he flopped into a chair near the fire.
‘Our four are all out, thank goodness,’ Huw sighed.
‘Our three now Ronnie’s married,’ Marged corrected. ‘Our Lilly’s got a date but we don’t know who with.’
‘Secret meetings with a bloke she won’t talk about,’ Huw grumbled. ‘Twenty-six she is, mind, and going out with someone she won’t even put a name to.’
‘Our Beth is at a dance with Freddy,’ Marged went on, glaring at Huw to remind him they didn’t want to discuss Lilly and her secret boyfriend, ‘and young Eynon is at the pictures.’
‘Beth at a dance? I didn’t think Beth liked dancing.’
‘She doesn’t, but that Freddy Clements does, so she goes with him and sits while he dances with other girls.’ Huw shrugged. ‘Daft, but there you are. They’ve been friends for so long they don’t seem like a couple about to get engaged, do they?’
‘Where are your lot, Bleddyn?’ Granny Moll Piper asked. ‘We haven’t seen your Irene for ages.’
‘I don’t see much of her myself,’ Bleddyn admitted. ‘Irene isn’t very well. You know how tired and depressed she gets sometimes. As for Taff and Johnny, they’re probably out courting and it’s Taff I came to talk to you about. He and Evelyn are going to get married as you know.’
‘D’you think that’s wise, with the war and everything? There’s the conscription that will soon take the eighteen-year-olds away, and the future isn’t that cheerful,’ Moll warned. ‘I think they should wait.’
Bleddyn shook his head. ‘All the more reason to get settled. It’ll give the boys some comfort, knowing there’s someone at home waiting for them.’
‘Just so long as it’s what Taff really wants,’ Marged said pointedly.
‘When are they planning to tie the knot?’ Huw asked. ‘If it’s soon, then it’s best we get some food hidden away before the food rationing threatened for next year, eh, Marged? We’ll want to give them a good spread.’
‘Don’t be so hasty, Huw,’ Marged laughed. ‘They’ve only got engaged now this minute! Give it a bit of time.’
‘Fact is,’ Bleddyn said slowly, ‘they plan to marry very soon and we wondered, me and Irene, whether you’d make the cake and do the food, Marged.’
‘When exactly?’ Moll asked, suspicion quirking an eyebrow.
‘Three weeks’ time and no, before you ask, she hasn’t got a bun in the oven!’
‘We weren’t—’ Marged protested.
‘Yes we were,’ Huw grinned. ‘At least I was! So, Bleddyn, boy, what’s the rush then?’
‘Her mother and father want it sooner than later because they think they’re getting a bit too passionate on the way they say goodnight,’ Bleddyn grinned.
Within an hour the plans had been discussed and finalised. The wedding would take place on Saturday October seventh at St Cenyth’s church. The wedding breakfast for family and close friends would be held in Piper’s Café over on the beach, specially opened for the occasion, and the bride would wear white as she walked down the aisle of the church, as befitted an innocent young girl and to stop tongues wagging.
Bleddyn wondered when Evelyn’s family would be brought into the discussions but didn’t ask. He knew it was best left to the women, although, he thought sadly, it was doubtful whether Irene would contribute much.
Bleddyn’s brother Huw and his wife Marged had four children: Ronnie, now married to Olive; Lilly, with her mysterious lover; Beth, about to become engaged to Freddy Clements who worked in the local gent’s outfitters and Eynon, who at sixteen was the ‘baby’ of the family and hated it.
When seventeen-year-old Beth came in from the dance, her dark eyes were glowing and her smooth black hair cut in a bob with a straight fringe was a shining cap around her smiling face. Everything about her revealed a woman in love.
She was delighted to hear that her cousin Taff was to marry. Having just left the arms of the man she loved, her reaction was more enthusiastic than the others. She decided to go and see Evelyn the following evening after finishing work in the greengrocer where she was working throughout the winter. Like the rest of the family she worked on the beach during the summer season and found other work for the colder months.
‘Pity they didn’t wait a while longer, though,’ she said. ‘Me and Freddy are getting engaged on my eighteenth birthday and we could have had a double wedding next year.’
Huw and Bleddyn went out into the small garden and stood looking around at the dark night. ‘Everything’s all right, is it, Bleddyn?’ Huw asked. ‘There’s no pressure from Evelyn’s parents that Taff doesn’t want, is there?’
‘No, nothing like that. He says he wants to marry Evelyn, but they didn’t intend to marry in a rush like this. Engaged for a couple of years first is the usual carry-on, isn’t it? To give themselves time to gather the things they need, fill their “bottom drawer” and get to really know each other.’
‘What happened to change that?’
‘Evelyn’s mother got home earlier than planned and found them in a passionate embrace and insists that if she hadn’t, her Evelyn would be in the pudding club.’
The brothers smiled in the darkness, remembering their own courting days and the haste with which Huw married Marged before tongues wagged.
‘Runs in the family, eh?’ Bleddyn laughed. ‘You and Marged facing the wrath of Moll, and me and Irene not far behind, so your Lilly and our Taff were as good as twins, eh?’
‘Irene bad again then, is she?’ Huw asked after a while. ‘What’s the trouble this time?’
‘The usual depression. I’ve tried to work out what starts her off but there’s no accounting for it. She walks around the streets and the beaches and I never know where she is or where she’s been. Stays out for hours she does. When she is at home she’s morose and won’t talk. I don’t understand it, but I do what I can to help keep the house running for the boys’ sake. We just wait till she crawls out of the pit that she creates for herself, and gets back to normal. Then I just hope, every morning, that the black mood hasn’t returned.’
‘Can’t the doctor do anything?’
‘Tells her to pull herself together and insists that she’s fit and well and maybe doing it to avoid the work she hates.’
‘Rubbish. She never has done anything she doesn’t want to.’ Huw coughed, embarrassed that his irritation with his sister-in-law was allowed to show. ‘Sorry, Bleddyn, I shouldn’t comment when I don’t know the full story.’
‘You know as much as I do, and that’s practically nothing at all. It’s as though she shuts herself off from her life with me and the boys, for weeks and sometimes months, then she comes back. But where she goes in her mind during those times, I don’t know.’
‘Where does she go bodily, that’s what I’d want to know. She can’t just walk around. There has to be a place where she goes. Nobody sees her wandering about
, do they?’
‘Sometimes, yes. She’s seen in the fields sometimes. But she’s never been seen in a café or the pictures or anywhere like that.’
‘Strange,’ Huw frowned. ‘Now if she’d only help us on the beach in the summer months, keep herself busy, like, it might take her mind off herself and maybe it would help her.’
‘You know how many times I’ve asked her to come on the sands.’
‘I know, but if you told her how much we need her help?’
Bleddyn shuffled his feet, a sign that he was getting tense and didn’t want to discuss it further, and Huw dealt with the blackout curtain as he opened the door to return to the others. Irene was Bleddyn’s wife and he couldn’t interfere, although he believed that the basis of Irene’s ‘illness’ was idleness rather than medical.
* * *
Eirlys knew that her mother was being kept busy with her part-time work and looking after the boys as well as dealing with the housewifely chores. Annie hadn’t wanted the extra work involved in caring for Stanley, Harold and Percival, and she still threatened occasionally that they would have to go somewhere else to live. Eirlys spent as much time with them as she could. On the following day, a Sunday, it rained, but she was determined that they should see the sea.
In borrowed clothes, and wellingtons that were either tight or too loose, they made their way through the dreary streets towards the beach. Stanley asked a stream of questions, Harold was rude about everything and Percival walked head down, his rare comments making it clear that nothing interested him except getting back to his mother.
As they reached the promenade at St David’s Well Bay, a light rain still fell, but across the water the sun showed its face and provided a rainbow – specially for them, she insisted, as she showed it off. With the low, dark clouds, the brightness across the sea on the distant shore and the magical appearance of the rainbow, Eirlys thought that considering the time of year, their first sight of the sea could have been a lot worse. Even Percival seemed impressed.
Then the rain stopped and everything sparkled like new, the sun giving the horizon a band of gold. Gradually they emerged from their outerwear and walked along the almost deserted, off-season beach while she tried to explain to the young Londoners what it would look like in the summer, when the entertainments were going full tilt and the beach was crammed with noisy families having fun.
She had walked a few yards before she realised that she only had two. Looking back, she saw Harold staring over the sea wall, where she had stopped for their first sight of the sea, amazement opening his mouth wide.
‘Come on, Harold, you look like a dead fish standing there,’ she teased.
‘I never thought it would be so big. What’s that on the other side?’
‘That’s Somerset. Wait till we get home and I’ll show you on the map,’ she promised.
With wellingtons coming into their own, they were able to run in and out of the water, pretending to run in fear from the white edged waves, laughing, sharing the joy of it with each other by occasional glances. Even the solemn Percival managed a glimmer of a smile.
A few entrepreneurial stall-holders had arrived and opened for the few hours of daylight left and soon the sands were full of people. It was as though summer had returned. Only the Pipers’ helter-skelter and roundabouts and swingboats were missing. They had been stored away at the end of August.
The three boys watched in amazement at the sight of children running about, laughing, chased by assorted dogs, at dads formally dressed in suits trying to walk on the soft sand without getting any in their shoes, or sitting to make sandcastles. The women were neatly dressed and some carried baskets from which they took a few biscuits and a bottle of lemonade.
Eirlys smiled at a little girl carrying two cones which dripped, were licked and which finally fell into the sand. The child’s mouth opened in a silent cry, easily recognised as such from a distance.
Crying could soon become commonplace, Eirlys thought sadly, as more and more fathers and brothers and sons were taken away to fight against Hitler.
They were returning to the promenade when she saw a figure she knew coming towards them waving and calling.
‘Johnny!’ she shouted, thankful for the release from her morbid thoughts.
‘I called for you and your Dad said you’d be here,’ he said. ‘Have you shown them Piper’s Café yet?’
She shared a hug and an affectionate kiss with him, then bent down to Percival’s level and pointed to where, high above the beach, Piper’s Café stood precariously on the cliff path, jutting out over the beach. It could be reached from the path and also from the beach, when the tide was low, by means of metal steps.
‘I’ve got the key, what say we take a look?’ Johnny suggested, waving the bunch of keys in front of her face.
Walking up the open-work metal steps that echoed each footstep, clanking in an alarming way, was an excuse for laughter and a few yells of fright which resulted in Johnny carrying Percival, who travelled upward with his eyes tightly closed.
The café was larger than it appeared from below and consisted of a dining area and a kitchen which was fitted with a frying range and an enormous sink as well as a cooker on which sat two large kettles.
‘This is my family’s business,’ Johnny explained as the boys prowled around examining everything. ‘We feed the hundreds of summer visitors that come to St David’s Well Bay for their holidays every year.’
‘Got anything to eat then?’ Stanley asked.
Johnny regretfully shook his head. ‘We closed at the end of August and we won’t be open again until next summer.’
‘Not much of a caff then,’ Harold complained. ‘Some places are open, why not you?’
‘Partly because we need to get jobs and wanted to take our pick, but mostly because of the blackout. We didn’t fancy working here with the windows blacked out, or packing up in the dark, so rather than closing early, we finished altogether.’
‘What did you bring us here for if we can’t get nothin’ to eat?’ Harold asked rudely.
‘I ain’t ’ungry,’ Percival said. He was a poor eater and even in the short time he had been staying with Eirlys’s family had become anxious at the thought of mealtimes and the persuasions to eat.
‘Sit at the table,’ Johnny instructed, pointing to the table close to a barred and partially boarded-up window. Little Percival sat disconsolately with elbows on the table, his hands supporting his chin, the epitome of misery. Then Johnny produced three sticks of seaside rock and his face changed. Now this looked more like food.
Leaving the boys chomping happily and discussing the sea and the sand, Johnny put an arm around Eirlys and asked, ‘They’re great kids and I admire the way you’re helping them settle in, but are we going to find a few hours for ourselves? Or will I have to wait till Hitler’s been beaten and they go back home?’ he teased.
‘Sorry Johnny, but I thought I’d spend the weekend with them, get them out from under Mam’s feet and show them around the neighbourhood.’
‘Of course, love.’
The word ‘love’ hung in the air. He had never called her that before, or greeted her with a real kiss when they met. She realised he was speaking, and pulled herself together and asked him to repeat it.
‘It might be an idea to introduce them to some of the boys they’ll meet at school so they won’t feel so strange when they start there on Monday.’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘I can spare you for a while. I realise how important it is to help them.’ He turned his head and looked at the three brothers whispering, sharing opinions and most likely making fun of some of the things they had learnt.
Eirlys tilted her head to one side, smiling as she watched them. ‘It makes you realise how lucky we are to be here and not in one of the cities where they are threatened with bombs, and have to send their children away to live with strangers. I don’t suppose we’ll get off scot-free, though.’
‘No.
For one thing, the call-up hasn’t missed out St David’s Well. Even the smallest village has been touched by that. I’ll have to go next year unless they allow that the work on the beach justifies an exemption on the grounds that it’s war work. That’s not likely, is it? Taff will probably be going before me, so Evelyn won’t be enjoying life as a married woman for very long. Living on her own she’ll be, in the rooms they’ve rented in Curtis Street.’
‘Got a drink of pop to wash that sticky stuff down?’ the cheeky Harold called hopefully.
Once again Eirlys was glad that he had broken the sober reminders that St David’s Well was at war, and she replied cheerfully, ‘All right; as Johnny supplied the sticks of seaside rock, I’ll treat you to a drink of pop in Piper’s fish-and-chip shop.’
‘That’s ours too,’ Johnny explained to the boys as they left the café perched high above the sands and walked back towards town. ‘My father runs it, but it belongs to the Piper family, same as the café. He takes a boat out for pleasure trips in the summer. You’ll enjoy that next summer,’ he promised. ‘Right out across the bay he goes.’
‘Why isn’t it called Castle’s, then?’ Harold asked.
‘That’s a long story, for another time, Harold.’
‘Rich, are yer?’ Stanley wanted to know.
‘Not rich enough to be idle; we have to work long hours for what we get. We earn our money by working in the café and the chip shop and, in the summer, we have swingboats and helter-skelters, stalls and hoopla and the like, right there on the sand.’
‘I do want to go home,’ Stanley explained, ‘I do want to see our Ma, but I’d like to be here in the summer and have a go on the helter-skelter and land on the sand. It sounds like fun.’
‘Softer on your arse than concrete,’ Harold said, looking wide-eyed at Eirlys, who chose to ignore the swear word.
‘Swingboats make me sick,’ Percival said, with a brief demonstration.
* * *
Holidays at Home Omnibus Page 4