Holidays at Home Omnibus
Page 28
Taff wanted to go at once to talk to his father but Evelyn stopped him.
‘I don’t think he knows and it’s best he never finds out. Why add to his unhappiness?’
‘It might ease his guilt,’ Taff said sadly. ‘He blames himself for not looking after her better.’
Anger was Johnny’s weapon throughout the day as he went to tell the family what had happened. He told Granny Moll to abandon her plans for the wedding breakfast and found himself going over the same ground as with his father and his brother Taff – ‘Talk to her, make her change her mind. Put right whatever’s wrong.’ Each time he told someone, they gave the same responses and by midday he could have recited them in chorus with ease.
Several people called to see Eirlys, hoping for an explanation. Even Granny Moll Piper knocked on the door and demanded to know what she should do with the cake she had chosen and paid for. Eirlys refused to come down and speak to her, telling her mother, ‘She can throw it in the sea for the fish!’
Over the weekend, everyone who needed to be told had been notified. Then Eirlys told her parents her next item of news.
‘I’m going away,’ she said. ‘I’m going to live in London. My boss has given me a good reference and has given me an introduction to a place looking for someone with my skills.’
‘What is the matter with you?’ Annie demanded tearfully. ‘First the wedding and now this! Where will you go? Where will you stay? For heaven’s sake, Eirlys, what has happened?’
‘I’ll be staying with Ken Ward and his family until I get a place of my own.’
‘But why? You’ve got a home here,’ Annie wailed.
Her father said little, except to plead with her not to go. He was sitting, his head drooped, a melancholy expression on his face, knowing he was responsible and could do nothing about it.
‘It’s Ken, isn’t it?’ Annie suddenly said. ‘He’s the cause of this. Writing letters, unsettling you. He should have left you alone.’
‘It’s nothing to do with Ken,’ she said.
* * *
Bleddyn threw down the cloth with which he was wiping up the last of the spilt paint.
‘Damn it all,’ he said aloud, ‘this wedding cancellation is because of Irene! Eirlys must be worried about her illness, afraid it’s something Johnny and their children could inherit. Her suicide in the docks must have terrified her – and understandably, too.’
He sat for a while working out how he could help, surrounded by paint pots and brushes and all the paraphernalia of decorating. He had been through the house with Johnny and Taff’s help and every room looked different from when Irene was alive. He had needed the cleansing and a fresh start; could Eirlys be in need of the same?
He went firstly to see Mrs Hibbert and paid a month’s rent on the rooms Johnny and Eirlys were to have made their home. That gave them time to reconsider.
When Johnny came in, he told him what he had done, but Johnny shook his head.
‘Thanks, Dad, that was a kind thought and a good idea, but she’s going away; she’s got a job in London and for a while at least she’ll be staying with Ken Ward’s family.’
‘Is he the trouble?’ Bleddyn asked.
‘No, he’s just a friend.’
‘Then has she told you why?’
‘She won’t say, just that we can’t ever marry.’
‘I wondered, well, is she worried about the way your mam died? It’s an awful thing to live with.’
‘How could it be to do with Mam? It’s me. She doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life with me, that’s the only reason. It has to be. Anything else could have been sorted.’
* * *
On what would have been her wedding day, Eirlys was at the station, coldly calm, alone, and waiting for a train to take her to London instead of catching a later train to take her and Johnny on their honeymoon, being cheered on their way by family and friends. It was so unfair. She steeled herself not to cry although inside she felt the aching, barely controlled agony of tears that needed to be shed.
In a corner where the rack to hold bicycles stood, a lone figure watched her board the train. He had to see for himself that she really was leaving. It still seemed impossible for their plans to come to such a sudden and unexplained end.
As the train moved away and disappeared, Johnny stared at the empty rails for a long time. This really was the end. There was no chance of her changing her mind.
* * *
Annie was devastated by her daughter’s departure. The house echoed, the empty rooms mocked her as she wandered around as though the building might have an explanation. First Stanley, Harold and Percival, now Eirlys leaving; not to marry and live a few minutes’ walk away, but to disappear into a place they didn’t know.
Morgan’s thoughts were equally morbid and he knew the only way he could help Annie was to coax her to go to London to see the place where Eirlys was living and to visit the boys. The Ward family had been friends; it wouldn’t be unreasonable in the circumstances to ask them to find accommodation for Annie near them, so she could see for herself the place where Eirlys was living. It would help Annie if she were able to picture her daughter in her new surroundings.
Johnny on the other hand, was deliberately and excessively cheerful over the following days. He exaggerated his indifference to combat Taff’s sympathy. He did lose his temper once and accuse Evelyn again of being the cause, although he failed to extract from her an explanation. Apart from that brief moment, he whistled and sang as he went about his greengrocery deliveries, making people smile, winking at young girls and old ladies as though life was particularly good.
Besides his unhappiness, Johnny felt embarrassed, a bit foolish. He’d been jilted and he didn’t even know why.
* * *
The postman’s visits were still eagerly awaited by Annie and Morgan, but with greater anxiety now that Eirlys had gone away. She wrote several times during that first week, telling them how interesting the area was and describing some of the places she had visited with Ken’s sister Julia.
Like Johnny, she was over-bright, over-cheerful, laughing at everything and nothing, attempting to convince others as well as herself that she was content.
Annie wrote back and asked whether there was time for her to try and find Teresa and the boys. She knew London was big, but it must be possible to get around it on buses and the terrifying Underground trains, she thought.
The need to see that Stanley, Harold and Percival were all right was made doubly urgent after another letter came telling Annie they had moved yet again and were sharing a bed in what had once been a cellar. Stanley also told them that their mother had a new boyfriend called Ronald but that he didn’t like Percival very much. Annie knew she had to go as soon as possible. Her greatest fear was that they might move once too often and she would lose touch with them altogether.
‘I expect it’s a basement flat, you know how Stanley can make a drama out of everything,’ Morgan said, trying to comfort her.
‘I have to go to London, Morgan. I want to see that Eirlys is all right and although she’s living in a different area from the boys, I could see them all if I stayed a night or two.’
Morgan didn’t try to persuade her against going, he encouraged her. He needed a rest from her abuse as well as wanting to know that Eirlys was settled safely. Guilt was a heavy cloak he was unable to remove. Annie had guessed the real reason for her daughter cancelling her wedding and her accusations against Morgan were destroying him. They rarely exchanged a civil word and he had taken to walking around at night rather than stay in the house and listen to her repeated accusations. He had long ago given up retaliation. He allowed her to rain the insults down on him without apparently hearing them. He wondered how much longer he could bear it.
He went to the station with her and kissed her awkwardly for appearances’ sake. Then he went back home and for the first time in weeks he slept.
* * *
The train was full of uniformed yo
ung men. Normally Annie would have enjoyed talking to them, but today she had no interest in anyone. Her thoughts were ahead of her, wondering if Eirlys was happy, or ready to come back to St David’s Well and face the gossip, and whether she would be able to persuade Teresa to allow the boys to come back to St David’s Well until she had found them somewhere decent to live. If there was time, she might suggest going to the housing department with Teresa and finding out exactly what was happening.
* * *
Teresa had moved again, as the boys had told Annie and Morgan. It was far from comfortable. Any furniture and linen and china she’d had in the past had been lost during her frequent moves. Her attempts at hiding from the man who stalked her demanding his money had been futile anyway. He had found her easily, followed her when she left the public house one night and hit her so she had bruises on her body, making it difficult to work and earn the money to pay him back.
She still worked on the market stall but didn’t earn enough for her needs. If only she could pay him back, although she suspected that by this time, the money was not the strongest reason for his persistence. He had been made to look a fool and he told her he wanted to see her come into the place where he and his friends were gathered and hand over the money and make an abject apology. Only then would he leave her alone.
The so-called romance with Ronald had lasted less than a week. He had left without a word but two days later, while she was out and Percival was home alone nursing a head cold, an officer from the housing department came and, finding the place unfit for habitation and the boy on his own, called the welfare authorities.
Two officials were waiting for Teresa when she arrived home at seven, having called in at the pub for a drink on the way. She wasn’t a heavy drinker but had hoped to make a date for later on.
The three boys looked frightened, having been warned that they might have to go into a children’s home until their mother could get decent accommodation. ‘We could go and stay with Auntie Annie,’ Percival said hopefully.
The so-called ‘flat’ was a single room below pavement level, small, dark and damp, and sparsely furnished. After coming in from work and feeding the boys, Teresa habitually left them there while she went out and hung around the pubs looking for likely customers.
Much of what she earned went on herself. Her clothes were smart and quite new. She had to look good, dress expensively, have her hair properly washed and set and, use make-up skilfully unless she wanted to end up with the dregs of humanity. When she met the welfare people, she was aware of the difference in her appearance and theirs and tried to make excuses.
She had to get money, enough to set them up. Her lovely boys deserved more than she’d given them. They’d be better off in a home.
When the boys were asleep she went out to find the man who she called her shadow. He was in the usual pub at his usual table with his cronies around him. She pleaded with him to leave her alone so she could get the boys a decent place to live. ‘I stole from you,’ she said. ‘None of this is their fault.’
He hit her as she was laughed out of the place and said, ‘The money, here, tomorrow, or you’re dead.’ He had no intention of doing more than frighten her, but she believed him. Perhaps she should go to the police? But who would believe her? No one.
* * *
The boys had not made the address very clear and after reaching the general area. Annie spent several hours searching for them. She was extremely tired. Having found a place to stay and deposited her small suitcase in her room, she hadn’t stopped to eat, but had gone straight out to find the boys. Tomorrow she would go and see her daughter, but this evening was for Stanley, Harold and little Percival. She had a few pounds in the back of her purse hoping she would use it to take them back to St David’s Well with her. First she had to find them! The traffic was very different from back home, she thought, as two cars skidded around the corner and almost touched one another as they passed. So impatient, and, on the dark streets, very stupid too. She was nearing the address where she thought she would locate the flat when she saw, running along the opposite pavement, a figure she thought she recognised. That funny, tippy-toed run in such ridiculously high heels couldn’t be anyone else but Teresa hurrying home after her day in the market.
‘Teresa!’ she called, relief slowing her weary feet. ‘It’s me, Annie. I’ve come to see the boys!’
Teresa appeared not to hear her and, still with that silly girlish run, hurried towards the corner. Exasperated, afraid she would lose her and perhaps not be able to find the boys, Annie ran after her, calling her name.
The car that slowly cruised out of a side road was barely visible. But here in London, with more traffic and the hooded traffic signals, the light was slightly brighter than at home. The car’s shaded head lights snapped off and the car increased its speed. In the faint glow from other vehicles nearby, she saw quite clearly that the car was heading straight for Teresa. ‘Teresa!’ Annie screamed. ‘Look out!’
The driver swerved away from Teresa at the very last moment, as he had intended, but couldn’t avoid hitting, then running over Annie, who was heading for Teresa in blind panic.
Teresa gave a wail of horror and ran to where Annie’s body lay in the dark road. The driver’s shocked face was briefly visible as he stared back at what he had done, then he drove off, still without showing his lights. Only Teresa knew who he was.
Cars stopped, people arrived, instructions were shouted, and Teresa lay down beside the still form, unaware of them all, murmuring, ‘It was meant for me, Annie, it was meant for me.’ She lay beside her, hugging her, until an ambulance man came and took her away.
She was oblivious of what was said. Questions went unanswered, her brain dulled by the tragedy. Annie dead. And because of her. Stealing that twenty-four pounds had ruined everything and had now caused the death of a friend. How was she going to live with that?
Twelve
Teresa stared down at the peaceful face of Annie as the ambulance men lifted her body on to a stretcher. She knew she was dead. She remained still, her arms wrapped about herself, and silently wept.
In her head she relived the moment: the shouts, the revving engine, the squealing brakes as the car slewed momentarily out of control, then the thump, the awful thump. Unaware of the people approaching, slowly at first, then in a flurry of activity, she hadn’t responded to the voices at first, but had sat there on the cold ground nursing Annie, talking to her, telling her it was going to be all right. Then the wailing approach of the ambulance broke into her consciousness. Someone lifted her gently away from Annie’s still form and her hands covered her face as the sound of voices invaded her ears. Where had all these people come from? What had they to do with Annie?
Remorse hit her then. What had she done? By that stupid action, stealing the wallet of a man who wouldn’t accept his humiliation, she had been chased and attacked and it had ended in not injury to her, but the death of Annie Price. How could she live with this? How could she tell the boys?
The sequence of the events went round and round in her mind, as though next time, the ending would be different.
The next hour was filled with confusion – seeing Annie’s body taken away and then questions and more questions, until she told the police that her children were at home, unattended.
‘We’ll come back with you, and once we know they are safe, we can continue with the interview,’ she was told.
‘Interview?’ The word had connotations of guilt. Could they know what had happened, and understand that she was responsible?
‘You say she was your friend, a good friend. You must want to help us in every way you can to catch the driver of that car.’
‘I don’t remember anything. It’s all a blur, all squealing brakes and the shouting and—’
She sobbed and the policemen accompanied her home and waited, silent and unmoving, until she had recovered. They then continued with their questions.
They were very persuasive and she eve
ntually told them about the wallet, the threats and her convictions for prostitution.
‘Just tell us who the man is and we’ll do the rest,’ they told her.
‘I’ll be made to appear in court. I can’t let the boys go through all that.’
‘Tell us his name, Teri,’ one of them said, making it clear he knew the name she used when working, and for her prosecutions. ‘Give us his name, description and the make of car and the number if you know it. There’ll be enough evidence on the car to convict him,’ he coaxed.
Reluctantly, but with the image of Annie lying in the middle of the road to persuade her, she gave them a description, told them where he usually drank and everything else she could remember, to give them a picture of him.
When she fell into bed she was exhausted, but she didn’t sleep. The images were too vivid. She lay there in the cramped bed, trying to hug all three boys at once, the need to feel she was protecting them paramount.
As dawn broke on the dark wet morning, she lay for a while longer listening to the rain dripping through the rotten window pane on to the old bedspread placed to catch it, dull and persistent. What should she do? Where should she go? Then the idea flooded her mind like a shaft of warm sunlight on a winter’s day; comforting and filling her with a sensation of well-being. St David’s Well. She would go and stay in Annie’s home, with Morgan Price.
At once she felt more cheerful. With the first move planned she didn’t worry about what would happen after that. Knowing her first action was sufficient for the moment.
She woke the boys and said excitedly, ‘Get dressed, we’re going to see Morgan and all your friends in St David’s Well. Just wait till summer. We’ll see the beach in all its glory, just like Eirlys told you, remember? There’ll be roundabouts and donkey rides and sticks of rock and ice-creams and picnics on the sand and more people having fun than you’ve ever seen!’