He expected the other young men to become friends; working together as a team was what the army was all about, wasn’t it? In fact he was an outsider straightaway. His accent, the fact of his being shorter than the rest, and his over-anxious expectation of friendship all added fuel to the need for a few of the others to find someone to bully.
Instead of friendship he found himself alone, picked on by several but most severely by a quick-tempered man who had done a little boxing, called Kipper.
Kipper had taken it upon himself to teach the boy a lesson, although why and for what were never explained. It was partly to show the rest how dangerous he was and how wise they would be to treat him with respect. Eynon’s clothes went missing, his kit became dirty just before inspection, he was kicked and beaten for any real or imagined slight and when an opportunity offered itself, after a particularly bad session of the man’s cruelty, Eynon had absented himself from his group on a cross-country training exercise.
For weeks he was on the run and when an accident burst open an earlier head wound, giving him the excuse to plead lost memory, he gave himself up.
Whether the medical officers believed him or not, the severe cut on his head gave credence to his story and he was given a sentence that was less than he had feared. in addition, his fellow soldiers seemed to have gained a little respect for him. Now, in June 1941, he was given leave to go home and see his family before being sent back to rejoin his group.
In Sidney Street, preparations were under way in readiness for his arrival. Marged and Huw hadn’t seen their son since he signed on and Marged was more than a little tearful, partly because they were unable to meet him in Cardiff, not knowing the train on which he would be travelling.
‘He must know what train he’ll be on, we should be meeting him in Cardiff,’ she complained several times. ‘He’ll think we don’t care.’
Huw and his brother Bleddyn soothed her, reminding her that Eynon too would be feeling emotional about the reunion and must be allowed to do things his way.
* * *
Eynon stepped off the train at six o’clock on a Friday evening and there to meet him, as he had arranged, was Alice Potter who worked with his Auntie Audrey in the Castle family’s rock and sweet shop on the promenade.
They were both hesitant to hug each but grinned widely. They walked along side by side, not touching. Eynon carrying his kit and Alice with a small, home-made shoulder bag.
‘Your dad, is he all right?’ Eynon asked.
‘Still about the same. That punch he received in his last fight ruined him, and I doubt if he’ll ever get any better.’
Alice’s father had been a boxer and brain damage had disabled him. He couldn’t walk upright without support and the injury had made him very wild at times, Alice often bearing the brunt of his violent temper.
‘l’ve felt a few punches from a boxer and they didn’t feel too good either,’ he said ruefully. ‘Never fancied that as a way to cam my living. Sissy I am, l’d rather sell ice cream and buckets and spades on the beach!’ The laughter broke the ice and they strolled the rest of the way to his parents’ house, through the busy streets, arm in arm and close as they could get and still manage to walk.
Once, while he was still on the run, Alice had sheltered him and allowed him to clean himself and get a good night’s rest and he reminded her of how grateful he had been.
‘That simple night’s rest in safety and comfort was the most luxurious experience of my life,’ he said, kissing her cheek and making her blush.
As he had expected, the whole family was squeezed into his parents’ house and, for the first time, his granny Molly Piper wasn’t there with her arms outstretched. She had died while he was on the run. The others made up for it though and for a while Alice lost sight of him as he was surrounded by his brother and sisters and the rest. Then the baby cried and he looked at his sister, Lilly.
‘Come on then, let’s have our little sprog out and ready for inspection!’
Marged tried to hide her shock at the sight of him. He was thin and pale and there was a look of hardness, a toughness, a ‘seen it all’ coldness in his eyes. There was even a touch of grey in his short dark hair where a scar stretched almost down to his left eye. She stared at him as he laughed and joked and admired his little niece but she hardly recognised the young boy who had left home to join the army.
‘How long are you home for?’ Bleddyn asked.
‘Why, Uncle Bleddyn?’ he replied cheekily. ‘Don’t say you’ve got me down for a shift on the ice-cream stall?’
For a moment, amid the laughter, Marged saw the boy he had once been, but the expression quickly faded and she wondered if she had imagined it.
‘No ice cream, boy,’ Bleddyn replied when the laughter had subsided. ‘We aren’t allowed to make it any more. But there’s the helter-skelter if you’re free, mind!’
‘Dammit all, and there’s me thinking I’d spend the weekend in bed.’
‘I saw Eirlys on the train,’ he told them later. ‘She’s coming back and her job is waiting for her. Great news, eh?’
Hannah smiled at her father-in-law and said softly, ‘That’s good news. I was afraid my marrying Johnny had kept her away.’
‘Eirlys is too sensible to keep away because of you,’ Bleddyn reassured her. ‘It’s more likely to be that Teresa Love, moving in with her father.’
‘Morgan made a big mistake, from what I hear,’ Huw told them. ‘Debts all over the place and no decent food. Poor silly sod.’
* * *
Eirlys went straight to Shirley Downs’s flat above the shop when she reached St David’s Well. Hetty Downs had agreed to her staying there for a few weeks while she found somewhere to live, and most of her luggage was being held by Ken’s family until she had a permanent address.
Joseph Beynon was there ready to escort Shirley to a dance. Eirlys was invited to go with them but she declined.
Dancing was not a favourite occupation and from the look on Joseph’s face he was quite happy having Shirley to himself.
In fact the occasion was not a dance but yet another talent competition. Amateur entertainment was popular and inexpensive, with many people tempted on to a stage who would never have been brave enough before. ‘I can do better than that,’ was a phrase often overheard.
This competition was one about which Shirley had declined to tell Janet Copp. Joseph knew nothing about the competition either, having been told by Shirley that Janet was not free to go and that it was only a boring old dance in a church hall that wouldn’t attract more than a few.
When they got to the door Joseph could see that Shirley hadn’t been completely truthful. Girls were dressed in long skirts and with their hair carefully arranged. Some of the men were in evening dress, their shoes highly polished.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked. ‘I thought you said it was only a dance.’
‘Oh, nothing. They’ve sold more tickets than I expected, that’s all.’
Ignoring her casual reply, he asked someone in the crowd waiting to get inside and was told about the competition. Turning to Shirley he demanded, ‘Did you tell Janet about this?’
‘She wasn’t free, I told you that.’
‘Where does she live?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Why are you making such a fuss? She didn’t want to come.’
‘Janet Copp,’ he called. ‘Does anyone know where she lives?’ I
‘Stop it, Joseph, you’re making everyone stare.’
‘Where does she live?’ he asked again.
Someone called out, ‘Janet Copp? D’you mean her from the market café? She’s lives at Seven Oldway Street.’
‘Thank you,’ he replied, then turning to Shirley, he said sharply, ‘You wait here until I get back.’
‘Joseph! If you think I’m going to wait out here, you’re mistaken!’
‘I have the tickets and I said wait!’ Leaving Shirley seething with anger, he hurried away.
Oldway Street was no
t far and within minutes he was knocking impatiently on the door.
‘The dance tonight includes a talent competition,’ he told a surprised Janet. ‘Grab a dress, comb your hair and come.’
‘Why have we only just heard?’ she asked as they ran back to the hall. ‘Shirley heard it was only a small dance for a youth club or something like that.’
Joseph said nothing and waving an irritable hand then glaring at a disgruntled Shirley, he ushered them into the hall.
Shirley went into the cloakroom with Janet and waited while she changed her dress and combed her hair. ‘Lucky we heard in time, wasn’t it?’ she said to Janet. ‘Just chatting in the queue while we waited, we were, and when I realised it was a talent competition I begged Joseph to go and fetch you. He’s.so kind, isn’t he?’
‘I must tell him how grateful I am. Specially if we win.’
‘Don’t say anything, Janet, he’d be embarrassed. There’s no need. I’ll remind him of how grateful we both are later,’ Shirley said with a wink.
They discussed the song they would sing and rehearsed, very briefly, the steps they would do in the middle before stepping out to rejoin Joseph.
He had entered their names and they were near the end of the list, so they sat watching the other acts, discussing their good points and relishing their bad. The competition was not daunting; they both felt confident of winning.
They had chosen a sentimental number. ‘When I Grow Too Old To Dream’, Janet easily harmonising for the second chorus, and it went down well, with so many of the audience thinking of loved ones far away. Choosing them as winners was a popular choice and they hugged each other as they ran up to receive their prize.
‘Thank you, Joseph,’ Janet said excitedly.
Joseph looked at Shirley and said slowly. ‘Thank Shirley, not me. She learned about it, didn’t you, Shirley?’
Shirley hugged her friend and did not reply. Her eyes were glittering with the excitement of their success, tempered by the thought that if Janet hadn’t come, the success would have been wholly hers. If Joseph thought he could shame her he thought wrong! She was going places and nothing would stop her, certainly not loyalty to Janet or stuffy Joseph Beynon!
* * *
Eirlys went to see her father on the Sunday before she started back in her old job at the council offices in St David’s Well. It was eleven o’clock in the morning and her mother would have had meat roasting and vegetables prepared even if the meat was no more than a couple of measly chops. But there were no tantalising smells as she opened the back door and called to let them know she was there. In fact the remains of a previous meal were spread across the table and the sink held unwashed dishes and pans. The strongest smell was of Daddies Sauce which had spilt across the stained tablecloth.
The boys, Stanley, Harold and Percival, came running to greet her and to her surprise they were still in their far from sweet-smelling pyjamas.
‘What’s this?’ she said, laughing. ‘I was hoping you’d be ready to come with me to see Mr Gregory.’ Teasingly, she turned as though to go back out. ‘If you don’t want to come then I’ll go on my own.’
Stanley and Harold shouted, pleading with her to wait. Solemn little Percival said, ‘My ’jamas is boverin’ me. The cord’s knotted itself and I can’t get out.’
As she helped undo the cord and the others ran upstairs to dress, Teresa appeared and said firmly, ‘Sorry, Eirlys, but you should have told us you was comin’. The boys ain’t going nowhere without a bit o’ breakfast inside them. It ain’t right to go off with an empty stomach.’
‘I’ll wait.’ Eirlys smiled, giving Percival the ends of his cord to hold so he could run after his brothers and get dressed. She sat down in the chaos of the kitchen and crossed her legs. She wouldn’t start clearing up. It would embarrass Teresa and she didn’t want to do that.
As her father came running down the stairs, having been told by the boys of her arrival, Teresa said, ‘If you want a cup of tea you’ll have to wash a cup. One for me an’ your father too while you’re at it.’
So much for shaming her, Eirlys thought wryly.
It was Eirlys who made toast and washed the dishes, and who ironed a shirt for Stanley when he couldn’t find a fresh one to put on.
Teresa and her father sat, telling her about some of the mishaps the boys had caused and how well they were doing at school.
‘When we manage to get there,’ Stanley muttered. ‘Mam oversleeps and we get up too late sometimes.’
Teresa thought that was funny too.
When they were finally ready to go on their walk, Morgan said he would go with them. At first Teresa complained. ‘Who’s going to help me get our dinner?’ she demanded.
‘I’ll bring back some more eggs,’ Morgan promised.
‘Thank Gawd they ain’t rationed yet.’ She sighed. ‘We’ll ‘ave ’em boiled so I’ll cut some bread, shall I?’
‘That’ll be great,’ Morgan said, as though she had offered to prepare a five-course banquet.
When they were on their way with the boys running ahead, Morgan said, ‘You can see how it is, Eirlys love. Is there any chance of you moving back and taking over? The boys are suffering, not having proper food, and they need shoes and there’s no money. Stanley has outgrown his and he’s going to school in claps,’ he said, using the local name for plimsoles.
‘Dadda, you know I can’t live there with you now. I love the boys and I want to help, but I can’t give up my job and take over the organisation of Teresa’s family. You can’t ask me to do that.’ She was tempted to remind him that the mess was of his own making but she didn’t. Instead she called Percival back and held his hand, pointing out the many wild flowers that grew in the fields and hedgerows.
‘There’s the money too.’ Morgan said in a low voice. ‘I’m not even sure the rent’s being paid.’
‘You’ll have to handle the money yourself. Be fair, Dadda. If you’re expecting Teresa to suddenly be able to run a household of five people with all its complications after the way she lived, you must be crazy. Tell her you’ll be managing the money and make sure you really do manage it. I don’t want to criticise her but she seems able to do exactly what she wants without a thought for you, or her sons.’
‘Mum loves us. “Love be name, and love be nature”, that’s what she says,’ Percival chanted solemnly.
‘You’re so lucky to have a mum that loves you,’ Eirlys said in alarm. She had forgotten the child was there. ‘I’m talking about someone else, a lady I know who doesn’t love her children enough to care for them properly, they aren’t lucky like you and your brothers.’
‘Can we have custard for puddin’?’ he asked.
‘We’ll get fresh milk and eggs from Mr Gregory as soon as we’ve said hello to the donkeys, and I’ll make you some,’ she promised, bending down and hugging him.
As he ran off to tell his brothers about the custard, she turned to her father and hissed, ‘No shoes for the boys, but her clothes are all new, aren’t they? Get it sorted, Dadda, or she’ll make you homeless then hop it back to where she came from!’
Four
In the way of most families during the difficult war years, the Castles exchanged news and often gave their letters to other members of the family to read and share the pleasure of the often brief communication.
Shirley Downs and Alice Potter were exceptions. Shirley heard from Freddy Clements but had no contact with his parents, so she read his letters then put them aside to read again later.
For Alice it was shyness that made her hide the fact that Eynon wrote to her. Shyness and the loving content of his regular letters. He talked of his love for her, and they made plans for when the war ended and they would marry. Although he had never actually proposed, it was accepted by both of them that they would become man and wife as soon as they were able.
Shirley read Freddy’s letters with greater interest than she had at first. Before he had joined the army he had been a convenience, a way of
exploring her talent for dancing and then singing. He had been casual about it, treated it as nothing more than a bit of fun, an added interest to their evenings out. Now he was taking her more seriously, not praising her successes overmuch, but wanting to hear her latest news.
She began to look forward to telling him about the auditions, making a joke out of the bad ones and trying to be casual about the ones which went well. At least he was interested enough to ask, and that pleased her.
For Alice, Eynon’s letters were the highest point of her week and hiding them from her father the most fearful need.
Hannah wrote every day to Johnny and when she received a letter from him she shared the joy of it with her father-in-law, Bleddyn. She still tried to interest her parents in their son-in-law but they refused to accept the end of her previous marriage. ‘In the eyes of the church you are living in sin,’ was the regular response when she tried to talk to them. She never gave up. One day they would face facts and accept that her first marriage to a man whose priorities were violence and drink, was over.
* * *
Eirlys settled back into her former position at St David’s Well council offices, but not without some difficulties. Several girls had been employed and none had stayed long, but before leaving they had changed the filing system that Eirlys had kept so meticulously and rearranged the lists of suppliers, cancelling some and adding new ones.
Her first task was to put things back in a way she understood and which would allow her to find what she needed quickly. To this end she worked into the evenings, leaving the building with the escort of the nightwatchman, a replacement for Bob Beynon, Joseph’s father. It took a week of busy days and long evenings working alone before she felt confident that she had everything returned to its previous order.
Holidays at Home Omnibus Page 68