Holidays at Home Omnibus

by Wait Till Summer; Swingboats On the Sand; Waiting for Yesterday; Day Trippers; Unwise Promises; Street Parties (retail) (epub)

  ‘An’ it’s time that was changed, too,’ Huw muttered, before being shushed by Marged.

  The ladders and benches and heavier tools were already on board and the rest was thrown casually on top of them. Huw drove with his mother-in-law next to him, and as the rest squeezed themselves among the tools they set off home.

  ‘And don’t think I’ve forgotten about what you did to the shop. Tomorrow you’ll have to repaint it in the blue, like always. Right?’

  ‘Fine, if you don’t mind closing the café as well as the shop. If Bleddyn and I have painting to do we can’t deal with the café.’

  ‘Or the boat trips,’ Bleddyn added quietly.

  ‘I suppose it will have to stay for the moment - unless,’ she added, glowering at them, ‘the council sends someone to close us down!’

  Two hours later, fully recovered from the hard work and fortified by a good meal of fish and chips from their Uncle Bleddyn’s shop, Eynon and Ronnie were out with friends, Beth and Freddy were sitting hand in hand listening to the wireless, Huw was snoring, and Lilly had slipped away to see Phil Martin.

  * * *

  Phil was waiting as arranged at the corner of Garth Row and Angel Villas, a place where few were likely to see him. Both roads had few houses, just a few privately-built detached properties with high walls and gardens filled with shrubberies and tall trees.

  ‘Oh, Phil.’ Lilly sighed as they hugged each other passionately. ‘I’m so glad you could get away. I’ve had the most awful day and you’re the only one to make me forget it.’

  ‘You’re opening Piper’s Café and the stalls tomorrow, then?’ he said. ‘It’ll be more difficult for us to meet now the season’s starting, what with your long hours and my wife wanting to go out and about. I hate the summer.’

  ‘I hate it because we can’t see each other as easily, but I’d dread the season anyway. Why should I have to work in the family business when they won’t give me a say in the way it’s run? Mam and Dad and Granny Moll have all made it clear that I’ll never be in charge. Only my brothers are good enough to run it. No matter that I’m the eldest and I’ve worked there since I grew tall enough to see over the counter. No, unless they can promise me one of the businesses to run as I want it run, then I’m going to tell them I’m finished.’

  ‘Best to hang on a bit longer, Lilly love. I don’t think your Eynon is too keen to take it on and Ronnie, well, he’s due for call-up soon and if he’s in the forces fighting Hitler, then they’ll need you proper, won’t they? No, best you hang on.’

  ‘I hate it.’

  ‘What about the rock shop on the promenade? There’s a tidy little back room there that would be handy on a quiet afternoon, eh?’

  ‘I don’t think Auntie Audrey will part with that job. Oh, have you seen what our Dad and Uncle Bleddyn did to it? Granny Moll asked them to touch up the dark blue paint and guess what they did? Painted it in stripes.’ They laughed as she described the various faces when her grandmother arrived at the café to complain, then grew serious once more.

  ‘If I leave, show them I can be independent, then I could come back when they need me and make my own conditions.’

  ‘That’s a clever thought. Bright girl you are, no mistake, Lilly Castle. But come here and forget it for an hour. I daren’t stay longer; my wife will be back from her sister’s by nine o’clock and we shouldn’t waste valuable time on all this. Oh Lilly, if only things were different. You and I would make a wonderful team, we could do anything. If only—’ His words were silenced by her kiss.

  As the big clock on the church chimed half-hour he walked her back to the corner of Sidney Street where she lived. Arms around each other, pressed as tightly together as possible yet still able to walk, they strolled through the dark lanes behind the houses, stopping for just one more kiss, a few murmured endearments and regrets, seeking privacy until the last moment, when they would step out into King Edward Street where they would part.

  ‘I think I could persuade our Mam to let me find a job in a shop where the hours aren’t so long and the work easier, but it’s Granny Moll. She won’t hear of it.’

  Stopping for a final kiss before going their separate ways, they were half hidden, having pressed themselves deep into an overgrown privet hedge. When they heard footsteps approaching they turned away, hiding their faces in the thick foliage and waited for the person to pass. To their consternation, the footsteps faltered and a female voice said, ‘Evening, Lilly.’

  Lilly froze and didn’t reply, but once the footsteps began to fade she pulled away from Phil and looked along the quiet unmade road to see who had spoken. There was no one in sight. Whoever it was had disappeared into one of the houses on King Edward Street.

  ‘Damn it all, Lilly,’ Phil muttered, ‘I hope whoever it was didn’t recognise me. If my wife hears about us we’re finished.’

  Lilly said nothing. She knew that forcing their relationship out into the open was her only chance of ever becoming more than a secret love, the one hope of a satisfactory end to all this. She wondered who had spoken, hope rising in a flood of excitement.

  * * *

  Beth was at home going over the endless lists that were an essential part of arranging an engagement party. The list of guests was growing by the minute and Marged glanced at it and shuddered. Beth was the first of her daughters to become engaged and she was determined to have a real good do but, with rationing already limiting her plans for a generous meal, she was doubtful of the wisdom of inviting so many.

  ‘What about making it a late evening do instead of starting at teatime? That way we’d cut out the children and invite only the adults. We’d be able to give a better meal if we cut the numbers,’ she suggested. She and Beth discussed this idea for a few minutes but when Beth turned to ask Freddy how he felt, he looked bored.

  ‘Let’s leave it for now, Mam, is it?’ Beth said, hiding her disappointment. ‘We’ve all had a busy day and we’re tired.’

  ‘Great,’ Freddy said, jumping up enthusiastically. ‘Let’s go to the pictures.’

  ‘Sorry, but I feel too tired, love. I want an early night.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ he quickly agreed. ‘I’ll get off home. An early night isn’t a bad idea.’ He gave her a chaste kiss and left. But he didn’t go home. He went to the Chain and Locker for a pint, then to catch the last showing at the pictures. Boring, that was what Beth had become. She talked about nothing but the engagement party or Piper’s damned Café. When would she have time for him?

  The picture house wasn’t full. Most people came for the earlier performances and he chose a seat a few rows from the back and threw his coat across the seat next to his.

  A few moments later someone lifted up his coat and put it on the arm and sat beside him. He took no notice as he was involved in the film, trying to work out the plot, which was difficult as it had been well under way when he had arrived. He didn’t try to see who it was until a voice said, ‘Want a toffee, Freddy Clements? Or a marshmallow or a hard-boiled?’

  Shirley Downs worked in a shop near the gentlemen’s outfitters, selling newspapers and magazines and sweets. Freddy often stopped for a chat when he called for his paper. Shirley was taller than him by several inches and to compensate she usually leaned on the counter, or kicked off her high heels.

  Sitting down, they were much of a height, but she slid down in her seat and lolled against the arm as she spoke. She held out a large paper bag and he smiled in the darkness and riffled around in it until she closed her hand and locked his among the sweets.

  ‘Ooh, ’elp! Let go of me, Shirley Downs,’ he said in mock alarm. ‘Grip like a set of pliers you’ve got!’

  Amid demands to ‘hush’ she allowed him to choose a sweet and they laughed as they settled down to watch the film. They whispered as they each tried to work out the story and an irate patron warned that he would speak to the manager and have them thrown out if they didn’t stop talking. So they moved places and sat in the back row.

&n
bsp; Shirley usually wore her long hair fastened in a tight ‘sausage’ around her head, rolled around a ribbon and held in place with clips, but tonight she had allowed it to fall about her shoulders and Freddy enjoyed the sensation of its fluttering touches as they leaned towards each other to whisper observations about the plot. He realised with some surprise that he didn’t remember ever touching Beth’s hair. He wondered whether the effect of caressing the short, orderly bob would be the same as running his fingers through the tempting tresses so close to him.

  They watched the end of the main film and sat through the ‘B’ offering, plus the news and all the shorts. Then they watched the main one again, hardly taking in what they saw.

  At eleven o’clock, Freddy said, ‘I can’t let you go home alone at this time of night. Where d’you live, Shirley?’

  ‘Above the shop. Mam and I work there and live in the flat above. It’s handy, but I’ve no excuse for being late for work, mind, and I start at five thirty. So get me home quick, so I can get some sleep.’

  ‘Fancy you living above the newsagent. All this time and I never knew.’

  ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Freddy Clements.’

  ‘I might spend a bit of time finding out,’ he said, flirting with his eyes, receiving a promising response.

  Crossing the park on his way home, Freddy sat on a bench for a long time, thinking a little about Beth and a lot about Shirley. As the day of his and Beth’s engagement drew close, he had become less and less excited. Surely there should be more than lists and more lists?

  The romance that had slowly grown out of friendship had vanished almost as soon as he had proposed. He remembered their most recent discussion on the subject, when he had failed to convince Beth of his plan.

  ‘I know we’ve agreed that we’ll live with your Granny Moll and your Auntie Audrey,’ he had said, ‘but it isn’t too late to change our minds. Why can’t we do what we originally planned and get rooms of our own?’

  ‘We’ll be fine with Granny Moll. She has such a big house it seems a waste of money to spend on rent while she has rooms empty. Oh Freddy, we’ll be so happy with her to look after us. And we’ll be only a few doors away from Mam and Dad.’

  He shuddered. Why couldn’t Marged and Huw set them up in a flat? It wasn’t difficult to rent a place and furnishing wouldn’t cost much if they bought second hand.

  ‘I want us to start out on our own,’ he had said, trying to provoke an argument.

  ‘We can’t afford it, Freddy.’

  ‘Yes we can, if your mam and dad would help and if we buy second hand. My mam and dad have a lot of spare stuff they want to give us. I want us to be free to do what we want, lock our door and go out when we choose to, come in with the milk if we like, without having to tell Granny Moll where we’re going and what time we’ll be back.’

  As he remembered, his frustration grew. He walked on until he was at his gate. It was almost midnight and his parents were in bed, trusting him to go in quietly and lock the door. It would be a return to childhood to be ‘looked after’ by Granny Moll Piper.

  Was becoming a part of the Piper family and the seaside café, shop and stalls what he really wanted? Or had he thought of it as an easy way to earn his keep? Was he ready to settle down? He wasn’t yet eighteen and he and Beth had been together since their first day at school.

  His thoughts returned to Shirley Downs and the way they had laughed together. He had felt more alive after talking to her for a few hours than he had felt for months.

  Guilt touched him then, but he shrugged it off. Was he wrong to want a bit of fun before settling down with Beth and becoming a part of the Piper family’s business? Security and money had been and still were the attraction, he admitted, as he leaned on his front gate and stared at the sky, but the thought of being married to the earnest and kindly Beth was losing its appeal.

  * * *

  Beth and Lilly didn’t have a peaceful night but it wasn’t thoughts of Freddy that kept Beth from sleep, it was the argument between her mam and dad, a shouting match that quickly woke Lilly and Eynon too. Huw and Marged had been late going to bed and by the time they had done so their low murmuring had grown into an enormous row.

  Lilly covered her head with a pillow and, after wriggling about and complaining, fell back to sleep, but Beth was upset. Mam and Dad frequently argued and with the beginning of the season making everyone tired and edgy, their rowing was becoming worse by the day.

  * * *

  The morning of the opening of the summer season broke fair and Marged and Huw were up before six and on the sands by half-past. Everywhere was frantic activity as owners opened up the serving areas of their stalls and displayed their wares. Balloons and windmills on sticks were fixed all around the brightly painted stalls. Flags caught the morning breeze and waved a welcome to the crowds who were expected to come and buy.

  In the café high above the sands, Marged and Huw were setting out the food, turning on the chip-fryer and filling the boiler for making tea. Occasionally they looked out to see their sons setting up.

  Even from a distance, Marged could see the lack of enthusiasm in their younger son, Eynon. He stood looking towards the edge of the waves where their Uncle Bleddyn, their father’s brother, was fixing the painted sign that advertised boat trips. Ignoring Ronnie’s need for help, he stared while Ronnie climbed up on the helter-skelter to fill the spaces with the last of the flags, and only did something to help when chivvied by his brother.

  Marged watched and wondered how long they would keep him working the beach. There was no doubt that his heart wasn’t in it.

  Huw looked over her shoulder and, guessing her thoughts, said succinctly, ‘Lazy sod.’

  Ronnie, who was nineteen, tried to encourage his younger brother.

  ‘Do you want to finish off here, Eynon, or go and fetch the ice-cream with Dad?’

  ‘I don’t want to do either. I want to join the army and get away from this boring beach for ever!’

  ‘Come on, you know the call-up isn’t to take you on a picnic. I’m two years older than you and I’ll have to go before long and believe me, I’d rather stay here than face guns and tanks and bombs and God knows what all, over in France.’

  ‘At least it won’t be boring.’ Eynon kicked at the sand which had settled around the base of the round wooden stall, making it appear to have been there for ever.

  ‘You’re right there. You damned fool, haven’t you seen Eddie Powell who’s lost a leg? Or heard of the fathers who won’t be coming back? Stop pretending and be thankful that you’re here and safe!’

  ‘Until they start bombing us!’

  ‘Oh, go and fetch the ice-cream!’ Ronnie snapped.

  ‘No I won’t! I’m going to find my mates.’

  ‘You’d better serve these kids first,’ Ronnie warned him.

  ‘Any pop, mister?’ the first customer requested.

  ‘Waiting for it to come.’

  ‘Do you sell Snowfruits?’

  ‘No, that’s Wall’s. We make our own.’

  ‘Is that the biggest balloon you’ve got?’

  ‘Yes, and you can’t have it, so clear off before I thump you.’

  Every request received a short and irritable response until Ronnie lost his temper with his brother. ‘Eynon, for heaven’s sake, boy, these people are here to have fun, not to be shouted at by a misery-guts like you!’

  ‘I hate this stupid stall. I’m off!’ He reached for his jacket and slung it over his shoulder.

  ‘Too late to slope off, boy, here’s our Dad.’

  ‘Ronnie, d’you think you could help in the fish-and-chip shop this dinnertime? Your Uncle Bleddyn needs to get the boat ready; there are quite a few passengers waiting and he can’t be in two places at once.’

  ‘Why can’t I do that?’ Eynon moaned.

  ‘Because he asked for Ronnie. You’ll stay here and serve on the stall, right?’

  ‘Not much point without ice-cream or pop
.’

  ‘They’re on the way. Your cousin Johnny is bringing it all. He’s been on the job since five o’clock this morning.’

  ‘More fool him,’ Eynon muttered.

  ‘What about the shop?’ Ronnie queried. ‘Did Granny Moll mean it when she said she wouldn’t open it till the paint was changed?’

  ‘Auntie Audrey is opening it later.’

  ‘I could open it now,’ Eynon said hopefully. Anywhere away from Mam and Dad and Granny Moll’s eagle eyes. There would be a chance of a bit of flirting, and he might arrange a date for himself for later with a bit of luck.

  ‘Gran’s determined that Dad changes it back to blue, mind,’ Ronnie told him.

  ‘Pity. Our Dad ought to get his own way sometimes. I wouldn’t allow a woman to boss me around, would you? Oh,’ Eynon added cheekily, ‘I forgot. You already have Olive, haven’t you!’ He darted away to avoid the cuff aimed at his ear.

  The café was busy that first day. Although it was not warm enough for bathing, several families had settled for the afternoon and the sand was dotted with deckchairs and brightly coloured towels. Buckets and spades were in action as the tide approached and children, mothers and a few grandfathers made channels inviting the water to flow in and fill the moats around castles. Using the iron steps, mothers climbed up to the café and ordered teas. Beth and Marged were kept busy serving meals and filling trays with cups and saucers and teapots and milk jugs for people to take down on to the sands, while Granny Moll and her youngest daughter Audrey made sandwiches, cut and filled scones and baked Welsh cakes on the heavy metal bakestone.

  Beth’s Uncle Bleddyn was not like her father even though they were brothers. Huw was small and slim, whereas Bleddyn was taller and heavier with a beard that disappeared during the winter and grew again in the spring to give passengers the romantic impression that he was a seasoned sailor – which he was not. He looked powerful and strong however, which he was. At forty-six, Bleddyn Castle, with his dark hair scattered with grey and skin toughened by summers spent in the open air, was still a handsome man. His recently widowed status had added to his appeal to the ladies of St David’s Well.