The small beach was still dressed for winter, with the shops and stalls boarded up and with no more than a few people enjoying the golden sands. But soon the place would be transformed, as the day-trippers and the holiday-makers arrived in ever-increasing numbers.
Through the café doorway Beth could look down on to the beach where Ronnie, Eynon and her father Huw stood in deep conversation, punctuated occasionally by her father pointing up at the roof of the café. She climbed up on to a café chair and leaned out of the window to wave, but they were too intent on their work to see her. She saw her brothers leave, shrugging on jackets and heading for the bus stop.
Beth was excited. Her dark brown eyes shone and a smile was ever constant on her generous mouth. Her black hair looked like a polished cap; always neat, it was cut in a short bob with a fringe that just touched her eyebrows. Her mother often told her she looked like the beautiful film star Anna May Wong. She was just under five feet tall, a half-inch that she regretted; four feet eleven and a half sounded so childlike. But being a bouncy, happy person, rarely critical of anyone, a friend to every person she met, the lack of height added to her air of innocence and was an enhancement rather than a disadvantage.
She loved the summer season with its lively crowds intent on having fun. The days were hectic and she knew from previous years that she would sink into bed each night exhausted, but happy. Only a few more days and the place would be open for business. War or no war, St David’s Well Bay would attract the crowds.
Looking across the sand to where the waves were lit by the early sun, she watched as her Uncle Bleddyn set out his pitch ready for the boat trips he would run on the following day. He launched his twenty-seven-foot, clinker-built boat, registered to take twelve passengers, with his son, Johnny beside him and put-putted gently around the area of bay they were allowed to use. Further out there were barricades and mines, and soldiers ready to shoot to kill, a grim reminder of what was happening in France.
Beth’s brother Ronnie, who at nineteen was just a year older than herself, greeted the start of the summer season with as much happy anticipation as herself. For Eynon who was a surly seventeen, and her sister Lilly who was twenty-six, the prospect was gloomy.
‘All the hours we have to work and for a wage most of my friends would laugh at,’ Lilly grumbled as she lifted the cover off a display cabinet behind the counter in the café and began to pile up the assorted bars of Cadbury’s and Fry’s chocolate.
‘But it’s such fun,’ her sister replied. ‘What other job could we do that would give us such fun?’
‘I can’t see the fun. Only months of hard slog. A waste of the summer. Everyone on holiday except us. We’d be better off working for someone else. Family loyalty is all very well, but I want to earn real money. Don’t you?’
‘This year will be a good one for me.’ Beth’s eyes shone. ‘A time to remember. There’s my engagement party on my eighteenth birthday for a start. Only three weeks away.’
‘Marrying that Freddy Clements isn’t something to celebrate,’ Lilly warned. ‘I’m telling you now that if you marry him you’ll regret it. Too fond of himself, that one.’
‘Come on, you’re only jealous. Twenty-six you are, Lilly, and no sign of a fiancé for you yet, is there?’
‘That’s all you know. I don’t share my private life with the whole town like you do.’
‘Still seeing this secret lover-boy then? Hard to believe in someone you keep so well hidden, mind.’
‘Shut up about a secret lover or you’ll get a thump. Right?’
Their mother Marged walked in then, staggering under the weight of a long shelf, recently painted a cheerful blue, on which the glasses for the popular ice-cream sundaes would stand.
‘Give me a hand, Lilly, you’re a bit taller than our Beth.’
‘Oh Mam, I’m just finishing this.’
With a barely audible sigh, Beth put down the glass shelf she had been polishing and went to help her mother.
* * *
Beth’s soon-to-be fiancé, Freddy Clements, worked as ‘third sales’ in a gents’ outfitters in the town. As this was Wednesday, a day on which the shop closed at lunchtime, he went home to change out of the formal suit he wore for business, having promised to go and see Beth. He wore another suit, one reduced to second best since it was no longer smart enough for work. As he straightened his tie and admired himself in his wardrobe mirror, he wondered whether he dare raid the savings account he and Beth had started a year ago and buy another suit and a few shirts. If rumours of clothes rationing became fact, then he would need a good stock. He didn’t think Beth, who wore white overalls over any old thing, would understand this.
Freddy himself was not tall, measuring only an inch and a half more than Beth. He jokingly told her that he would never marry her if she grew that extra inch and a half as she’d shame him. He was as fair as Beth was dark; he used to try and flatten his hair, which was a bit longer than most and deeply waved, with Brylcreem, but now allowed it to move freely around his ears. His boss was constantly complaining about it but Freddy knew that girls liked it and he prefered to please girls than his boss any day.
Aware of his lack of height, he walked with his shoulders well back and his neck stretched to hold his head high. Giving himself one last look in the mirror and seeing that his collar wasn’t sitting flat, he called to his mother.
‘Mam, can you give this shirt one more go? The collar isn’t up to your usual standard, and I know you’d hate me to go out looking sloppy.’
Twenty minutes later, declaring himself satisfied, he set off for the bus stop. He was a bit late, but he knew Beth would be waiting. Confidence widened his smile.
* * *
Beth left her cleaning and went to the bus stop to wait for him. She leaned on the sea wall and studied the groups of people dotted around the sand. Several families were painting their stalls, small wooden shacks in which they would offer for sale everything needed for a day on the beach. She waved to the people she knew, rivals but still friends.
Her cousins Taff and Johnny were helping to paint the swingboats and the helter-skelter in bright red and yellow stripes. Now, before the summer season began, the magic was yet to come. All there was to be seen were rather shabby wooden structures being disguised by cheerful paint, touched here and there with gold. Bright colours and glitter were essential elements of the seaside.
Many stretches of the coast, both isolated areas and a number of once popular beaches, were now inaccessible to the public, having been surrounded with barbed wire and concrete blocks to prevent invasion forces landing. In the more isolated places they had been heavily mined and flags and notices gave stark warnings of the dangers to those who thought of trespassing. It had been decided to leave St David’s Well Bay relatively open, however, apart from defences further out to sea, to offer families a chance to forget the worries of the war for a week, or a day or even a few hours. Holidays at home were encouraged and every town, not only those on the coast, were providing entertainments to persuade people against travelling. ‘Is Your Journey Really Necessary?’ asked the posters.
She saw the bus making its way around the funfair and turned to watch its approach. It was two o’clock and this was the third bus she had seen arrive. Freddy was sure to be on it, smiling, warming her with his obvious delight at seeing her. She walked towards the bus stop but the only passengers to alight were her two brothers, Ronnie and Eynon, struggling with a piece of glass and assorted packages. They explained they had been sent home for some tools, glass and putty to fix a loose window.
‘Tell Mam I’ll wait for one more bus,’ she told them, turning once more to look at the busy people on the sands.
Piper’s Café had been started by Joseph and Harriet Piper, her Granny Moll’s grandparents. Joseph and Harriet had actually been Moll’s husband’s grandparents, but she always referred to them as her own. It was tucked into the curve of the cliffs on the eastern side of the bay and could be reached
from the path along the headland or, when the tide allowed, by climbing metal steps leading up from the sand.
Some distance below the level of high tide, in front of the café steps, some council workmen were scrubbing the pool built from rocks that was filled regularly by the incoming tide. As the tide ebbed, it would slowly empty to await the next high tide, leaving small crustaceans, which colonised the cracks and hollows throughout the winter. These were now being evicted for the summer by men wearing waders and carrying brushes and spades, who were filling buckets with the winter residents, intent on making it more comfortable for the bare-footed children who would soon fill the place.
With hope slowly fading, Beth glanced towards the bus stop where a few people were waiting to return to the town. He wasn’t coming, she thought sadly. Sitting once again on the strong sea wall she watched the activities below as the traders made the last-minute adjustments to their stalls and rides. A few people wandered around, idly watching others at work, intrigued perhaps at the sight of the flat boards and sections of corrugated iron that, by tomorrow, would be bright, cheerful, overloaded stalls.
She saw a bus in the distance, travelling up to turn and come down to the stop where she stood. This was her last chance. If Freddy wasn’t on board she would have to get back to the café and finish the job she had started. Her sister Lilly was right – Freddy wasn’t reliable – but they understood each other. After growing up only a street apart and spending most of their time together, they understood each other’s failings better than most. She knew that love wasn’t perfection. There were cracks in the best relationships; you only had to think about Mam and Dad to know that. Always arguing they were.
When the next bus spilled out its passengers, Freddy Clements was the first to alight and he hurried towards her, a smile to match hers on his handsome face.
‘You look nice,’ she said shyly. ‘Not dressed for work, though. Painting it is today, mind.’
‘Not for me,’ he said, pulling a face, persuading her to laugh with him. ‘Wearing a good suit is my way of avoiding the jobs I hate.’
‘What are you planning to do, then?’ she asked. ‘I thought you promised to help?’
‘Windows?’ he offered. ‘I don’t mind cleaning windows.’
They walked hand in hand along the promenade, their height practically the same, her dark head close to his fair one. They did not look like a couple; Beth was dressed in a skirt and blouse, both damp and stained from her work, while Freddy was dressed immaculately in his navy suit and white shirt. Beth was suddenly self-conscious, aware of the difference in their appearance, unable to excuse herself on the strength of eight hours’ work in the café that day.
On the promenade they passed the shop also owned by the Castle family, although still bearing the Piper name after Moll’s grandfather who had begun it. Like the rest of the shops and small cafés it was freshly painted. Beth was surprised to see that it had been decorated with stripes of pink and pale green and that on the window was written ‘Piper’s Peppermint Rock’.
‘That’s smart,’ Beth said, ‘but I’m surprised Granny Moll agreed. Adamant she was that it should be blue like the café. It looks much better, don’t you think, Freddy?’
‘Much better. More suitable than blue. Blue isn’t a colour for eating, is it?’ he agreed. ‘What can you eat that’s blue? No, pink and peppermint green is much better.’ He looked in through the window. The shop was empty and the stands holding postcards were just inside the door.
‘I wonder if someone has persuaded your gran to sell saucy postcards as well?’ he grinned. Then his face sobered and he asked, ‘Why don’t you forget the café and run this little seaside rock shop? Tidy little job that’ll be, with no overalls and no messy cleaning to do. You could dress smart working here, couldn’t you?’
Beth blushed then, even more aware of her untidy appearance. She knew Freddy hated her looking like a skivvy, despite the fact that cleaning was a part of her work.
‘Cleaning is as important to the entertainments business as smiling and waving flags and selling sticks of rock, Freddy,’ she retorted. ‘And besides, Auntie Audrey’s in charge of it.’
‘Auntie Audrey spends more time at the café, getting someone to take over for her here. It’s obvious she prefers it there, so why don’t you ask her if you can run the shop?’
‘Because I like the café and being on the beach. Piper’s is a family affair, remember, and we all have to do whatever’s needed.’
‘Your dad and his brother don’t think so, do they? Granny Moll never listens to them. In fact I’m amazed she let them have their way over the colour of the rock shop.’
‘She does listen! But we have to do what’s best for the business, and sometimes Granny Moll has to disagree with Dad and Uncle Bleddyn.’
‘Sometimes?’ Freddy said with a laugh. ‘Uncle Bleddyn and your dad have been trying to make some changes for a long time, but Granny Moll never listens to them, family or not.’
She led him in silence to where her father and her brothers were preparing to climb a tall ladder to fix the loose window.
‘Afternoon, Mr Castle,’ Freddy said and in reply was asked to help fix the window. ‘I’ve got a good suit on,’ he began to protest, looking at Beth for support.
‘For God’s sake someone, get him an overall,’ Huw ordered, and after borrowing an overall from Eynon, removing his jacket and placing it carefully over a chair, Freddy resignedly climbed the ladder after Huw to help him deal with the task.
They worked for most of the afternoon making sure everything looked its best, the men outside putting the finishing touches to the paintwork, cheerful reds, blues and yellows chosen to attract the customers. Beth and her mother Marged were both very tired as they put the finishing touches to the inside, decorating the fresh clean shelves with doilies and checked shelf-paper before filling them with glasses, cups, saucers and plates. Teapots and jugs were piled conveniently close to the small trays they would need, everything in readiness for the following day.
Their last task was to place a few artificial ice-cream sundaes in the window and hang pictures on the wall. A formal portrait of Granny Moll’s grandparents looked down on the customers as they queued at the till, and there were old photographs of the beach in past years which showed the changes in dress to amuse the customers as they waited to be served.
Beth’s grandmother, Molly Piper, no longer worked every day in the café. When she had reached seventy, she had decided that it was time to relinquish her role and allow her daughter Marged and son-in-law Huw to run things their way. Although now, at seventy-four, she still liked to think her opinion was respected, as she told everyone who asked her about retirement. The truth was that she couldn’t relinquish her position as head of the family to Huw and his brother and, for them, this refusal to ‘let go’ was frustrating.
She arrived as Huw was locking the door and they were gathering up their tools and cleaning materials to go home for a well-earned meal.
‘Hang about, hang about,’ she called as she hurried along the path towards them. ‘Let me get my breath.’
‘What d’you want, our Mam?’ Marged asked, trying not to sigh. ‘Finished we have and off home for something to eat. I thought you were going home from the wholesaler on the bus with Audrey?’
‘I came down to look at things after I’d been to the wholesaler and just as well I did. Have you seen what your Huw and that brother of his have done to the shop?’
Huw and Marged exchanged a look that told of their expectation of argument.
‘I have, Granny Moll, and Freddy and I think it looks wonderful.’ Beth looked at Freddy for his agreement but he was half smiling, looking from one to the other, expecting fireworks.
‘Stripes! And in green and pink! This will delay the opening, mind. We can’t open it looking like that. You’ll have to get it changed. I won’t have it looking like a – a—’
‘A seaside shop selling seaside rock?’ Huw said th
reateningly.
Bleddyn arrived having made the boat safe and heard Moll’s comments. He spoke in support of his brother. ‘All the others along there are painted either brown or dark green. It stands out and shows clearly what it sells, Moll.’
‘It won’t open until you’ve changed it back to how it was!’
‘Can we discuss this at home? I’m sinking for a cup of tea,’ Freddy said, winking at Beth. ‘This could go on all night and I’d rather be sitting down, eh?’
They started to move away again but Moll stopped them. ‘Hang about! I want to check that everything looks right for the first day,’ the elderly lady insisted, taking out her key and reopening the café door.
While no one was looking, Beth and Freddy held hands. Huw exchanged a glance of irritation with Marged, Bleddyn stood head down waiting for a decision to be made and the two boys groaned and asked if they could walk on home. Beth’s sister Lilly drooped her shoulders and complained loudly that she had done enough. She was going to the pictures and didn’t want to miss the beginning.
‘You can all wait,’ Moll insisted. ‘This business was started by my grandparents and they had high standards. I don’t want those standards slipping.’ She looked around her, an expression on her face suggesting disapproval, then she nodded. ‘It’ll do,’ she said, touching a shelf, straightening a display. ‘Now, are you sure everything is ordered for the morning, Huw?’
Patiently, Huw and Marged went through the list of bread, cakes, milk and the rest until Moll announced she was satisfied. Thankfully, they all turned and walked towards the van, which bore the Piper name, with Moll mentioned as proprietor below.
Holidays at Home Omnibus Page 31