‘Thank you, Johnny,’ Hannah replied softly as Josie and Marie turned to look at her questioningly, ‘but I don’t think this is a time for strangers to turn up uninvited.’
‘Extra friends calling is what Christmas is all about. You are invited; I’m inviting you,’ he laughed.
Hannah shook her head. ‘Your Christmas is with Eirlys, with her family meeting yours. And that’s how it should be.’
The children complained a little but she promised them they would go with Johnny and Eirlys another day, when it was warmer.
She didn’t emphasize the fact he and Eirlys were a couple, but it hung in the air, making him inexplicably angry – not with Hannah for quite reasonably refusing what she saw as an unofficial invitation, but with Eirlys, even though she would surely not have complained.
He forced himself out of the mood of melancholy that was settling over him and called for Eirlys. They arrived soon after Bleddyn, with Annie, Morgan and the three evacuees, who were carrying their new game of Ludo, hoping to find someone to play with them, and boasting about the bikes Morgan had bought for them.
There were already four empty flagons on the kitchen table and the gramophone was playing music to which Huw and Marged were trying to dance, and, in the impossibly overcrowded room, causing much laughter. There were gifts to exchange and Eirlys was delighted to receive several items for her ‘bottom drawer’.
‘I suppose you have got one?’ Moll asked. ‘Most girls start one as they approach twenty.’
‘Oh yes,’ Eirlys assured her. ‘There’s quite a lot of linen that Mam has given me which I’ve embroidered. Some china too. It’s surprising how much you need to start off, isn’t it?’
‘I’ll look in my cupboards and see what I can find,’ Moll promised.
Johnny smiled his thanks but there was little joy in it for him. Shouldn’t he be more excited about collecting things for their future home? Or was it more the responsibility for women to make sure they had the necessities? He decided he would talk about it with a few friends and with his brother Taff.
Every seat that could be squeezed into the room had been taken, with neighbours calling, finding it impossible to leave, and adding to the numbers. When they had pushed a few children out of the way and found seats in the very crowded room, Morgan announced that he needed a walk and everyone had to move again.
‘For heaven’s sake, Morgan, sit down and stop disturbing people,’ Annie sighed.
‘It’s as hot as Old Nick’s kitchen in here,’ he grumbled, loosening his tie and collar.
‘Always like this, he is, never can sit still,’ Annie said as she glared at him.
‘Likes to be out and about, doesn’t he, Mrs Price?’ Evelyn smiled, glancing at Eirlys as she spoke as though the exchange should mean something to her. Eirlys frowned then looked away.
* * *
With crutches supporting him, Morgan made his way to Brook Lane, swinging himself along at a fair old pace with the ease of practice. The streets were deserted. Everyone was either sleeping off their dinner or listening to the entertainment offered by the BBC. No one wanted to move; even the children had given up parading with their new toys and were indoors where it was warm and the food was plentiful.
He went along the back of Brook Lane and through the garden and Irene opened the door as soon as he touched the knocker.
* * *
Morgan wasn’t the only one to need a walk. Eating more than usual and sitting in the overheated room put several of the others in danger of falling asleep. As the day was dry, if a little chilly, Eirlys and Johnny decided to take the three musketeers and walk down to see Mr Gregory’s donkeys in Sally Gough’s field.
Mr Gregory seemed pleased to see them. He found a bottle of pop for the boys and made tea for Eirlys and Johnny. Eirlys asked about his son and was told that he was on secret service for the government, and he knew nothing more than that.
‘I’ll see Peter when I see him.’ Mr Gregory shrugged sadly, then he forced a smile and put aside his concern. It was Christmas Day and no one wanted to listen to his worries about Peter out of touch in a foreign country, with the war beginning to threaten them all.
As they approached Sidney Street again they heard music.
‘That doesn’t sound like the wireless,’ Johnny frowned. As he opened the door he saw that the party had got its second wind and several others had arrived. Among them, as promised, were Ken Ward and Max Moon, on a brief visit to Ken’s grandparents. Ken had brought a set of tubular bells made for him by the local blacksmith out of tubes of varying length, and Max had brought a piano accordion on which he began to play songs for the children to sing.
‘Hang on,’ Johnny said, waving a hand to stop him. ‘There are two little girls who would love to join the party. Eirlys, why don’t you and Beth go and fetch Hannah and Josie and Marie? They won’t have had a party this year.’
The others readily agreed and after Eirlys had greeted Ken affectionately and promised to talk later and exchange news not covered in their letters, Johnny saw her off on her errand.
The party seemed to slow into a neutral mood as he waited impatiently for them to return. The music was soft and sentimental and the food was prepared but not served. Crackers were temptingly on display but were held back until Josie and Marie could share the fun.
Johnny had difficulty hiding the delight on his face when Hannah came in, rosy-faced from the cold evening, with her two cosily dressed, very excited daughters. Moll found them a place near Ken and Max while Hannah sat between Granny Moll and Marged, both of whom made her feel very welcome.
Ken gave his seat to Johnny and went to talk to Eirlys, greeting her with an affectionate kiss.
‘I’ve heard all about your war efforts and your promotion at work. You’re doing a great job from what I’ve been told,’ Ken said, staring at her, admiring her, his eyes glowing and revealing his pleasure at seeing her again.
She left him as he and Max were asked to play and sing, and she hugged Johnny and told him he was the most thoughtful of men to have invited Hannah and her girls. When she looked up to see others agreeing, she saw that Evelyn was glaring at her in her usual belligerent manner. Eirlys hugged Johnny tighter and decided to avoid looking at her for the rest of the evening.
For a while it had seemed that Evelyn’s dislike of her had faded. They had been out together, the two of them with Johnny and his brother Taft, and the atmosphere had been tolerably pleasant. Not as relaxed as when they had first became friends, but there had been signs of a thaw in Evelyn’s previous frostiness. Eirlys wondered what she had done this time to upset the girl, and decided that Evelyn was one of the unfortunate people who had inexplicable moods. She fervently hoped Taff hadn’t married someone like his mother!
It was as they both went out to wash a few dishes that Eirlys asked Evelyn why she was so unfriendly. ‘You seem to dislike me, but I don’t know why. Have I said something or done something to hurt you? I certainly haven’t intended to. I want us to be friends when we are sisters-in-law.’
‘I don’t dislike you. I just don’t think you are the right person for Johnny.’
‘But who Johnny marries isn’t anything to do with you.’ Eirlys frowned. ‘Why are you so concerned?’
‘Look to your own family. See what standards they set and you should understand only too well why I’m concerned!’ Evelyn threw down the tea towel and left the room.
A chill swept through Eirlys’s body. Did Evelyn know about her father and the robbery? Had she learned the truth about how Dadda had broken his ankle? Johnny knew so it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise to know he had told Taff. Yet, she thought, the dislike goes back further than the robbery at the newsagent. Could there have been others?
Puzzled, more than a little frightened, but unwilling to follow Evelyn and question her further, Eirlys went on dealing with the dishes. When she picked up a tray of sandwiches Marged had made and went back to rejoin the party, Johnny was dancing with Hannah
, with Marie in his arms. They were all laughing and she felt a pang of alarm. He looked so happy.
Hardly surprising, she chided herself, it was Christmas and everyone else looked just as merry. Drink, the occasion and having the family crammed in together plus a few friends could hardly have resulted in sad faces. Nevertheless, she was relieved when he put the little girl down and came to dance with her.
She looked at Evelyn, sitting close to her husband Taff. Was she simply trying to place doubt in her mind? Surely she didn’t consider Hannah a better choice for Johnny to marry? That would be too ridiculous.
To try and ease her mind she asked Johnny if he had checked on whether many of the burglaries had taken place on Fridays, when her father pretended to go to the ARP meetings.
‘There wasn’t a regular pattern,’ he said, reassuring her. ‘Besides, your father has been seen once or twice drinking with some friends, and on many Friday evenings he works, because of the shifts the factory uses. Forget it,’ he said, squeezing her hand as he led her to what Marged laughingly called the dance floor.
The dancing was a comfort to her. There wasn’t much room and it was little more than being in Johnny’s arms and luxuriating in the sensuous delight of having him near. Soon everyone slowed down and sat where they could find a seat, until the music stopped and people succumbed to the lethargy of too much heat and too much food.
She was reluctant to let Johnny go, needing his nearness, but he left her and went into the kitchen to get cold drinks for Hannah’s girls, leaving her standing, conscious of Evelyn’s stony stare.
Ken came over and when Johnny rejoined them said, ‘Congratulations to you both. Eirlys is a special person and you’re a lucky man, Johnny Castle.’ He thumped Johnny on the back, winked at Eirlys and went to take a drink to Max, who was teaching Johnny’s cousin Beth to play ‘Silent Night, Holy Night’ on the tubular bells.
Hannah had never been so happy. In the stuffy, overheated room, the fire was kept as large as possible, with chestnuts piled and slit ready for roasting. A washing bench had been brought in to provide extra seats and the youngest lolled against its legs with cushions to add to their comfort. Faces were red and damp with sweat, but no one wanted to move, although, Hannah thought with fascination, no one could if they wanted to! This family gathering was something she had never experienced before and she knew she would remember it all her life.
While they recovered from the effort of dancing, a few party games and tricks entertained them all, everyone contributing, even serious little Percival who sang ‘Daisy Daisy’, da-di-da-ing when he couldn’t remember the words.
Max put down the accordion and began to play carols on the tubular bells and they sounded magical. Ken sang once or twice and the others listened in silence, wallowing in the atmosphere of peace and contentment, the war a million miles from their thoughts.
Most of the children were asleep before he finished and the silence that followed was more telling than applause. It had been a perfect end to the day.
‘Will you be all right going home with your mam and dad?’ Johnny asked Eirlys as they all began to move and gather coats and hats. ‘I’d better make sure Hannah and the children get home safely – in fact, I think I’ll have to carry little Marie, don’t you?’ He pointed to where Marie was sleeping, rosy-faced, in the arms of Granny Moll.
‘Would you like me to come with you?’ Eirlys asked.
‘No, I’ll be able to go straight home if I’m on my own.’ The truth was, he admitted to himself, he didn’t want her to. He had spent very little time with her that day; even walking to Mr Gregory’s had been more a walk for the evacuees than a romantic stroll with the girl he was planning to marry. What was the matter with him? He should be glad of the opportunity to extend the day and walk her home at the end of it.
‘Thanks for a lovely day, Johnny,’ she said, offering her face for a kiss. In his strange mood, he thought the ‘thank you’ was too casually said: polite, a necessity, but without any real feeling.
Walking back through the silent streets with their breath showing in balloons of steam on the cold air, he felt a greater happiness than he’d felt all day. First the mood Mam had been in had ruined the atmosphere at dinnertime, then, in some way he couldn’t fathom, Eirlys hadn’t behaved as he had expected either. Now, with the sleepy Marie in his arms, and Hannah beside him trailing a weary Josie, he felt as though this was what he had been waiting for all day.
At the door they went in quietly without turning up the gas light which she had left burning low. ‘For fear of waking Mam,’ Hannah explained. So, as she guided the children toward the bedroom behind their living room, Johnny took the opportunity offered, and held her in his arms and kissed her. He hurried away before anything could be said, and ran home feeling like a schoolboy after a first date.
* * *
Ken and Max left soon after Christmas. Eirlys was sorry to see them go. She didn’t wish them luck as she normally would; with the job they were going to do it was too much like tempting fate. They had added a great deal to the celebrations and she knew that Christmas 1939 was one she would never forget.
* * *
A few days after the festivities had ended, Morgan called at Irene’s house in Brook Lane after seeing Johnny in the hardware store and Bleddyn opening up the fish-and-chip shop ready for the lunchtime session.
She opened the door to him and fell into his arms with the usual enthusiasm, but then she stepped back and said softly, ‘Morgan, there’s something I have to tell you.’
‘That sounds serious. You aren’t going to tell me goodbye, are you? Irene, love, I couldn’t bear that.’
‘No, it’s more the opposite.’
‘We meet or we don’t meet,’ he laughed. ‘How can there be another opposite?’
‘I think I might be expecting. We’re going to have a baby, Morgan love. A baby. Isn’t that wonderful?’
‘What?’ The shock distorted his face as the horror of what she was telling him hit him. He stared at her, then shook her gently, forced a laugh. ‘Don’t make jokes like that, love. Don’t try and scare me.’
‘Don’t say things like that! How can you be scared? It’s wonderful.’
‘Irene, you can’t be.’
‘It’s true. I’ve been telling myself it’s a mistake, but I’ve checked and checked and there’s no other explanation.’
‘Will Bleddyn believe it’s his?’ She didn’t reply and when he forced himself to look at her, let her see the dismay written on his face, she had tears in her eyes.
‘No, Morgan, this is ours, yours and mine, and I think it’s wonderful. I thought you’d be as happy as I am.’
‘But if we could persuade him, just for the present, while we made plans?’
Tears drizzled down her cheeks and she shook her head. ‘I can’t convince him of that. We’ve lived like strangers for more than a year.’
‘I don’t know what to do.’ He sat on a chair and hid his face in his hands.
‘Leave Annie. There’s nothing else we can do. We have to leave Bleddyn and Annie and the children and go away and start again. Preferably where no one knows us.’
‘I can’t do that. Sorry, Irene, but I can’t leave Annie and Eirlys. What would they do? How would they manage?’
‘Let them try. We need you more than they do, me and our baby. They’re always telling you how useless you are, well, let them see how they manage without you. They don’t deserve you, Morgan, love, you know they don’t.’
They sat discussing it for a long time, each becoming more and more depressed as an alternative solution evaded them. Irene was insistent that Morgan leave Annie and look after her, and Morgan was equally sure that he wouldn’t. After the first subdued exchanges, the comforting words, the declarations of everlasting love, they became more heated and within ten minutes they were quarrelling. Irene was crying, her voice reaching higher and higher until she was almost screaming. Morgan stomped out, for once uncaring about whether or not
he was seen. Irene shouted after him, ‘If you don’t tell Annie, then I will!’ He sat in the park where the grasses and trees were white with frost. A wonderland of wintery beauty, of which he was unaware. He’d been in trouble before but nothing like this. He couldn’t expect Annie to forgive him this. He couldn’t tell them. He couldn’t face losing Annie and Eirlys. His daughter wouldn’t take his side over this. Pacifist she might be but she wouldn’t support him now. The decision to stop seeing Irene was easily made but he knew that the solution to the wider situation was not. How could he just walk away and pretend the past few months hadn’t happened? She was going to have his child. Whatever he decided, Irene wasn’t going to allow him to walk away and face it alone. Scared as he was, he knew he couldn’t ask her to do that. The best decision was to wait, do nothing at all in case it was a ghastly mistake. Then, when – or if – it became a certainty, he would have to tell Annie.
* * *
Eirlys had called at a wool shop which was closing down and ordered a large quantity of knitting wool at a bargain price. Some was for knitting but much of it, best quality but boring colours, she planned to use for her rug-making. As background to her designs, grey, navy, dark green and maroon were ideal. She was passing the end of Brook Lane when she thought she saw her father. Unlikely, she thought, as he was at work during the afternoons this week. She went to call out to him, but hesitated. Surely it couldn’t be him, and wouldn’t she look a fool if she chased after a complete stranger? He couldn’t have been the only man with a leg in plaster.
A woman was watching her from her front garden: hair in curlers, wearing a cross-over apron, wellingtons on her feet, she was carrying logs she had collected from the pile at the side of the house.
‘Looking for someone, are you?’ the woman called.
‘No, it’s all right. I thought I knew that man, but I’m probably mistaken.’
Holidays at Home Omnibus Page 17