Holidays at Home Omnibus
Page 42
War or no war, Marged still insisted on throwing away what hadn’t been used, and starting each morning with clean shelves and fresh food. A man called Richards arranged to collect the discarded foodstuffs and he came every evening and emptied the separate bins containing food, which he took back to his farm and boiled up for his ever-hungry pigs.
Maude and Myrtle often stood for long periods, staring up into the faces of passers-by.
‘I’m sure I’d know our brother if I saw him,’ Maude would say repeatedly. ‘He must look like us.’
‘And Dad used to talk about St David’s Well Bay, didn’t he?’ Myrtle said, never tiring of the stories her sister told about what she remembered of their parents.
‘Yes, he did, and that’s why we came here, because this is where we’ll find our sister-in-law and our brother.’
* * *
The business during those last few weeks of that first season of wartime increased instead of slowly fading. Even with the whole family working all the hours of daylight, Marged and Huw had difficulty coping. Alice was invited to work as often as possible, releasing Audrey to assist in Piper’s Café. Lilly was given clearly defined tasks to do, much to Beth’s satisfaction. Freddy helped out as and when he could, spending a lot of his spare time on the sands working the helter-skelter and the swingboats with her brother Eynon, with whom he had developed a kinship not previously apparent. Beth also suspected that the pair of them sloped off early some evenings to go to the pictures. Still they needed extra hands, and small children known to Marged and Huw, who were on holiday from school, were occasionally employed to help serve.
The youngsters tried to outdo other stall-holders, shouting to attract customers and having a wonderful time, with the added bonus of getting some pocket money at the end of each day. Tin buckets and spades, flags and balloons were in constant demand. There had been no sign so far of the shortages they had been warned to expect, so stocks were not conserved. There seemed no need when there was an apparently endless supply. The war would surely be over before they need worry about supplies for the next season, eight whole months away.
The summer was one of the busiest and happiest they could remember. The youngest assistants hoped the men wouldn’t come home too soon and spoil their fun. As the family’s confidence in them grew and the stalls were at their busiest, they were each wrapped around several times with a white aprons and, wearing saucy hats pinned to size, they were soon selling ice-cream. They tried not to be seen licking their hands or the scoops too often, because Moll had threatened them with a cut in their pocket money if they were caught.
Youngsters ran with the donkeys too. Old Bernard Gregory walked sedately with the older patrons but when children wanted a more daring ride, one of the band of enthusiastic helpers would run behind the patient donkeys, urging them into a gallop. All the beach people were sunburnt and happiness shone in every eye. It was with surprise, therefore, that the family greeted Freddy’s words one Saturday night when they were making their way homewards.
‘I won’t be able to help you after next week.’
‘Why not?’ Beth demanded. ‘Don’t tell me you’re fed up with the beach already?’
Making the most out of the situation, lying with ease, Freddy said sadly, ‘I was devastated at my cowardice when that boat overturned, and, well, I had to prove to myself that I’m not a coward, so I ignored the fact that I’m in a reserve occupation, getting the bombs and bullets out to our boys. Sorry, Beth, but I’ve enlisted. It’s the army unifonn for me instead of a white jacket.’ Dramatically, he opened his arms to Beth to be hugged, and they clung together, oblivious of Huw and Marged’s stare.
‘Joined up voluntary, like?’ Huw said, amazed.
‘When you didn’t have to go?’ Marged asked with a frown.
‘Oh Freddy, I wish you hadn’t,’ Beth said. ‘Why didn’t you discuss it with me? I am your fiancée.’
‘I knew you’d try and talk me out of it, and this is something I have to do,’ he said emotionally.
Moll just stared at him enigmatically. This wasn’t what she had heard from others who worked at the factory. She said nothing. Perhaps her information was wrong.
‘There is something I’d like to suggest,’ Freddy went on. ‘I know how desperate you are for help, so I asked Shirley Downs if she’d be willing to give up the job she found at the café in town and come and help you. She’s experienced now, waiting table at that café.’
‘No! We’ve got her mother against my wishes. That’s bad enough,’ Huw complained. ‘Why should we give them work when they call us names? Just let me see her mother drunk, just once, and she goes, right? So we don’t want no Shirley Downs, right?’
‘Wrong,’ Marged said. ‘We’re too desperate to argue. Bleddyn’s boys are off in two weeks’ time and we’ll take who we can.’
Huw appealed to Moll, but she agreed with her daughter. ‘It’s only through these next few weeks, the busiest times will be over by then. Not worth making a fuss about, Huw.’
Huw walked a little way past the van and stared out across the slowly emptying promenade. He wondered how Marged could accept help from Hetty Downs after all the accusations she had made about Marged’s great-grandparents cheating her family. The woman must be exaggerating about the dishonesty of Moll’s parents. There was certain to be a grain of truth in the story, there usually was, but that would be all.
He ignored the struggles of the women as they put all the tablecloths and other washing into the van and fitted themselves around it. He didn’t try to help, and he drove home in silence. Why did no one ever listen to his opinion? He was the man of family, its head, yet it was as though he were invisible. He wasn’t a Piper, he seethed, he was a Castle, and one day he’d remind them of that fact.
* * *
The Castle family had a party the night before Bleddyn’s two sons left for the forces. As Freddy was due to go soon afterwards, he was included in the capacity of departing friend as well as part of the family and Beth’s fiancé.
Moll’s house was the largest so it was there they all gathered, each wondering how to set the tone for the evening. Although it was an excuse for a family get-together, the occasion had sombre undertones as they were saying farewell to those they loved as they left to face untold dangers.
Music was the way they set the mood, Huw playing piano and Bleddyn on mandolin. They started with comic, music-hall songs, laughter a release from the inhibitions of not being sure of what role they should play. The conversation was stilted for a while, but as the flagons emptied and the singing began, the mood swiftly passed through the usual stages of laughter, nonsense and into the sentimental or downright maudlin as they sang the melodies of years ago.
Bleddyn spoke very rarely to Hannah. He didn’t like the closeness she and Johnny were showing. The glances they shared were very revealing. She was too old and too worldly, with a divorce behind her. The fact of her parents being unwilling to support her told of some other event to discredit her and he didn’t want his son to become embroiled in anything sordid.
Hannah sensed his disapproval and was saddened by it, but she didn’t push Johnny away when he took advantage of a quiet moment and kissed her. Then he sang a love song, smiling towards the corner where she sat with a sleepy Josie and Marie. Taff looked shyly at his wife Evelyn and slid his hand into hers. Beth glanced at Freddy, but he was looking across the room towards Eynon as though they shared a secret.
It was when this late stage had been reached that Moll suddenly realised that Lilly had failed to appear. Before she could remark on the fact, Lilly came in, apologising none too sincerely for being late.
Moll looked at her, assessing her granddaughter’s mood. Lilly’s eyes were shining, her hair dishevelled, her face aglow with intoxication that had nothing to do with alcohol. Moll knew the signs of love-making; she had seen it on her own face many years before and on the face of her daughter. Her granddaughter had been with a man, not a casual friend either
, someone to whom she was strongly attracted and she showed the headiness of having that love returned.
In Piper’s Café, where Phil and Lilly had spent a blissful two hours, a cigarette burned slowly in a corner near the door. It glowed with one last burst of energy before guttering out.
* * *
Bleddyn was at a loss. He no longer ran boat trips, and the fish-and-chip shop was easily managed with the competent staff he had. Time hung heavily, and with his sons gone he had little heart for the beach. He kept looking up, expecting one of them to come and relieve him. He knew he should spend more time talking to Taff’s Evelyn and Johnny’s Hannah, comforting them, discussing their plans, offering help where needed, but when he met them he had nothing to say.
Subliminally he blamed them for his sons’ leaving, as if by looking after them better they could somehow have prevented it. They came to see him as often as they could and sometimes stayed at the beach all day, wanting to help, to lose themselves in work. He should have been grateful, but distress and fear obliterated all compassion for them.
One morning, after heavy rain during the night, they even managed to remove the stiff and awkward covers from the swingboats and the helter-skelter by themselves. Although he didn’t want to help, he was offended by their unwillingness to ask for it.
He took over the ice-cream making, using the last of their stock of powder, and spent time in the pop factory dealing with the jobs no one else wanted to do, clearing out corners, painting areas that were looking shabby, seaching for tasks he could do alone. He relieved his brother Huw of the ordering and checking the deliveries of foodstuffs, but all without any joy. It was as though he had presumed the deaths of his sons, knew they would never survive and was already in mourning.
* * *
As Marged and Beth were setting the tables with the freshly laundered gingham cloths one morning, Marged complained that the floor hadn’t been washed properly the evening before.
‘Look at this, there’s dirty ol’ ash down in this corner. Whose job was it to mop the floor?’ she demanded angrily.
‘Lilly’s, I think,’ Beth said as she straightened the cutlery.
‘She never does anything proper and still thinks she could take over from me,’ Moll added, outraged at the negligence. She collected brush and dustpan and dealt with the ash and cigarette ends. ‘Imagine if our first customers came and saw that,’ she tutted.
‘I did the floor last night and I didn’t miss that corner,’ Mrs Downs said, having overheard. ‘However it got there, it wasn’t there when I washed the floor.’ Her eyes were bright as she prepared to defend herself.
Seeing her mother about to argue, Beth said curiously, ‘Mam, the same thing happened a few days ago. I’d done the floors the day before, and I didn’t skimp on the cleaning either. I think someone pushes rubbish through for a joke or because they’re too lazy.’
‘That’s likely,’ Mrs Downs agreed.
Marged disagreed. ‘I don’t think so. It isn’t in the right spot to have fallen through the letter box.’
With customers already banging on the door, they didn’t discuss it further, but they were all puzzled about the overnight appearance of the cigarette ash. Could someone be using the place after they left? It seemed impossible. The place was firmly locked each evening and nothing had changed when they arrived in the morning, except the occasional appearance of cigarette ash. Moll sighed and put it down to tiredness. It was not surprising that after a long busy day they were less than fussy over the final cleaning job.
Aware that they were in danger of being found out, Lilly and Phil still used the café, but were more careful not to leave behind any evidence of their nocturnal visits.
* * *
Because he had been employed to work in the parks during most of the summer, it was for two weeks only that the Punch and Judy man joined the other entertainers on the sands. Twice every morning and three times every afternoon, a crowd of children and adults would gather, sitting cross-legged on the sand to watch the performance. Boos for the villain, cheers for the hero, sympathy with the victims were all interspersed with laughter. Nothing changed from year to year and it was the repetition, the knowing what came next, that gave the performance its special delight.
* * *
Audrey Castle did very little on the beach these days. Leaving Alice Potter in charge more and more often, she cleaned and ran her mother’s home, leaving Moll free to help where she was needed. Besides looking after her own mother’s place, Audrey also spent a lot of time helping Wilf’s mother run hers.
Geraldine Thomas was a semi-invalid, rising late, going to bed early and taking a rest each afternoon. Wilf worked as a storeman in a wholesale fruiterers and besides working at the early morning market, he was training as an auxiliary fireman with special emphasis on how to deal with incendiary bombs in case of air raids.
Audrey went up to King Edward Street after she had dealt with breakfast for her mother, Maude, Myrtle, Olive and herself, and prepared a late breakfast for Mrs Thomas. When the rush of early customers had slowed, Wilf cycled home to join her. Audrey went shopping then, shopping for her own meals as well as food for Wilf and his mother. Wilf went with her and this was the longest time during their busy days that they spent together. This was the extent of their ‘courting’. Sometimes they went into a café and enjoyed a cup of tea, although instead of personal conversation, Audrey usual whispered criticisms on the way the place was run, comparing it unfavourably with Piper’s.
She did a little housework, although most was dealt with by Mrs Thomas and Wilf, and usually stayed to get their midday meal on the table before going back home in time to cook the evening meal for her family.
‘One day, my dear. One day,’ Wilf always whispered as they parted.
‘Yes, dear, one day,’ she would whisper back. The remark and response were automatic, having lost their excitement over the years they had been repeated. She had almost stopped dreaming about being married to Wilf and having a home of their own. Being needed, flattered and complimented, she was content.
* * *
Despite local enquiries, the Castle family had failed to learn anything about the girls they had taken under their wing. Maude was fully recovered and Myrtle was preparing, somewhat nervously, to return to school.
Both girls were able to read simple stories, although understanding arithmetic had come easier. Huw had been right: having a reason to learn – their desire to help more fully on the beach stalls – had given them the incentive they needed to understand the mathematics of money.
Eynon was talking to the donkey man, Bernard Gregory, one day and the old man thought he remembered the family. ‘Maude and Myrtle are easily remembered,’ he told Eynon. ‘They sound like a music-hall act. If you call round the house one evening, I’ll let you see the snapshot album, old snaps taken years ago. I’ve got a feeling that Maude and Myrtle are in some of them. If I’m right, then the family used to work the beach, but I can’t remember what they did.’
Eynon told Beth and they arranged to go to see the man together.
Bernard Gregory lived in an area just outside the town, where he had a couple of fields for his donkeys and hen houses as well as a pond for ducks. Beth and her brother Eynon walked down there one Sunday evening and found the old man carrying a bucket of warm mash to feed the chickens.
They walked around the smallholding with him, admiring the ducks as they were locked up for the night and the hens and the thirty cockerels – which, he informed them, were being fattened up for Christmas. Beth shuddered. Even though she ate chicken with as much relish as the rest of her family did, she didn’t like looking at the beautiful creatures and being aware of their purpose.
They went inside the cosy, over-furnished living room and Mr Gregory handed them three battered photograph albums. He pointed out the children, then very young, whom he thought were the sisters and invited Beth and Eynon to take the albums home in the hope that they might trigger some
memories. But as to who Maude and Myrtle were, he insisted he could not remember.
Beth came away convinced he knew more, that his memories of the children were clearer than he admitted.
‘Perhaps it’s not his story to tell,’ Beth said thoughtfully.
‘Or it might involve a juicy bit of scandal,’ Eynon said.
‘You don’t think Granny Moll or Mam and Dad are pretending not to know, do you?’
‘Why not? You can’t imagine they’re connected to St David’s Well, without someone recognising them, can you?’
* * *
Eynon had persuaded Alice to go to the pictures with him several times and had managed a few brief kisses. One rainy evening when they had run from the picture house and were very wet, she invited him in to dry his hair.
‘What about your Dad?’ he asked
‘Fast asleep by this time, don’t worry,’ she whispered as she opened the front door.
They walked on tiptoe along the dark passage and went into the kitchen beyond. As Alice filled the kettle and set it to boil, upstairs her father stirred. He could barely hear a sound, but some sixth sense told him there was someone in the house. Not bothering to find anything for his feet and not possessing a dressing gown, he moved quietly down the stairs, walking with his body slanted, his shoulders leaning against the grimy walls.
Eynon turned off the gas under the kettle and said, ‘Why don’t we go upstairs, Alice?’ She took his hand and they had actually begun to climb the stairs when they saw Mr Potter on his way down. ‘Who’s there with you, Alice?’ he shouted and Eynon tried to leave.
The door was stiff and the man was moving very fast. Eynon abandoned the door and ran down the passage. There might be a high wall, but the approach of Alice’s father promised him wings!