Holidays at Home Omnibus
Page 69
The normal work of allotting food and supplies was a full-time job but on top of that she was given the responsibility for local entertainments. ‘Holidays At Home’ was the overall title given to a summer of activities intended to keep the local people from travelling to another holiday destination. Posters to that effect were distributed through every town in the country, not just the places that normally attracted visitors but small towns in which there was no tradition of catering for families having fun.
In her absence many of the things she had originally set up had been neglected and on her return, her first action was to get in touch with Max Moon and Ken Ward. What she needed initially were more ideas.
It was already well into the season and the busy month of August was approaching fast. All these arrangements should have been settled earlier. Much had been discussed but very little actually arranged, she thought, as she read through the list of dances, competitions, cricket matches and novelty games.
With Mr Johnston’s co-operation she organised a meeting of all the local people involved with guests and day-trippers. There were the expected complaints at interrupting the busy business people, but a large number came.
Bleddyn Castle was there with his brother Huw, and Marged. Marged’s sister Audrey came with her husband Wilf. Others who worked on the sands were there too and besides the beach people, the hall was packed with hoteliers and guest-house proprietors, shopkeepers and many of the casuals like the photographer, the fortune teller and Bernard Gregory who ran the donkeys. Nervously, Eirlys began to address them.
At the end of the evening she had a list of possible events and went back to Hetty and Shirley’s flat to try and make sense of it. In the office next day she handed ideas to various members of staff for them to investigate and asked them to come back to her with their findings. Her own list included a visit to the school.
After discussing her idea with the headmistress she was invited to address the children in the school hall and when they came in, two by two, she saw an excited Stanley waving at her. Looking around the sea of faces she soon spotted a bored-looking Harold and a suspicious Percival. ‘What have we done?’ Percival mouthed at her. ‘I ain’t done nothin’.’
Smiling encouragingly, she asked them all to sit.
‘I want you to form a choir,’ she began, ‘We expect to have lots of people this summer looking for some really good entertainment and you are going to take part.’
There was a groan from some of the children sitting cross-legged in front of her. Smiling. Eirlys went on. ‘I want you to have a really grand Sports Day. A day that everyone will enjoy. I want to arrange a bicycle race and a swimming gala and, also, the biggest picnic ever seen. Mums and dads if they can come, grannies and granddads, visiting friends, everyone is invited.’
‘It always rains on picnics,’ said a voice that could only be Percival.
‘Not on this one it won’t,’ she said firmly.
It was the beginning of a very hectic few weeks and Eirlys wished she had come back sooner so things could have been set in motion without such a tight time limit. She welcomed the work. Since her return she had not passed a night in relaxed and undisturbed sleep. Living so near Hannah was difficult. She hoped that by filling her days so sleep would come might stop her dwelling on their happy marriage, and also be an excellent excuse not to become involved in her father’s problems. But although she packed the hours with work, the nights were long and she watched dawn break day after day.
Her thoughts were random and confused. It seemed such a waste of time to lie waiting for sleep that wouldn’t come. Most of the thoughts were about things already done and however she worried, nothing could change them. One thing she did think about during the sleepless hours did have a satisfactory outcome: she had to find herself a permanent place to live.
With so many men and women away from home, and most of the evacuees returned home, there were plenty of houses offering rooms to let, but with her good salary and the desire for privacy, she decided on a flat. Of these there was a scarcity but she managed to find one not far from the office and, with grateful thanks to Hetty and Shirley Downs for their help, she moved in at the end of June a few weeks after her return.
Her first visitor was her father. He called late on her first evening after finishing his two-till-ten shift and, after admiring her new home, slumped down in her one and only armchair, a picture of dejection.
‘What is it, Dadda? What’s wrong?’ she asked, certain she knew the answer to her own question.
‘Teresa has bought a new three-piece suite on the never-never and I don’t think we can afford it.’
‘You must have agreed. She can’t sign for you, can she? She isn’t your wife.’
‘She said the old one is dangerous, the arm is weak and one of the boys might harm himself.’
Irritated, Eirlys said, ‘And you fell for that? You must be crazy. There was nothing wrong with that furniture and you know it. Mam only bought the best.’
‘We’re in debt, Eirlys. She doesn’t feed us properly and I don’t know what to do.’
‘Like I told you before, take charge.’
‘I’ve never had to deal with housekeeping. I don’t even know how much she’d need for food.’
‘Ask her, then give her half of what she asks for!’ Eirlys didn’t try to hide her dislike of Teresa. ‘Either that or tell her to leave.’ She knew she sounded hard but there was no soft approach where someone like Teresa was concerned.
‘I can’t tell the boys to go, they’re settled in school and with friends, and I’d be all on my own if they left and I don’t think I could cope with that.’
It was tempting, but Eirlys held back a promise to return home if they went. Dadda had to make this decision on his own; embellishing one side of the solution was not the answer.
She made him some food, guessing from the few comments he made that there wouldn’t be any supper waiting for him, filling him with tinned soup and some crusty bread. She felt utterly cruel as he walked off into the night, back to his problems which she knew she could help solve. Hardening her heart she closed the door and began to clear up in her tiny kitchen.
She lay awake as usual, her thoughts dwelling on her father, wondering if she should go back and help. He was her father and she loved him. Her mother would have expected it of her. But her mother could not have foreseen the complication of Teresa Love and her children.
* * *
When Eynon Castle’s leave ended, he went on an earlier train than necessary. He had to travel through London and the risk of delays was a worry. He didn’t want to be even a few minutes late returning. He couldn’t face more punishment. He spent his last few hours with Alice Potter who had been given the morning off from serving in the seaside rock shop on the promenade. Her father was subject to moods and could be violent for no apparent reason, but when Eynon knocked on the door of the dingy rooms behind an empty shop where Alice and her father lived, she invited him in.
As he stepped into the narrow passageway he heard the shuffling gait of Colin Potter and stood waiting for him to appear. Colin was bent like an old man and he needed to lean on the wall to support himself as he walked. The side of his sleeves were worn with constant rubbing against walls. His dark eyes flashed with anger and he snapped, ‘Alice! Who’s this then?’
‘It’s Eynon, Dad, you’ve seen him before. Eynon Castle.’
‘You a boxer then?’
‘No fear,’ Eynon said, laughing, then seeing the anger strengthen in the sick man’s eyes, quickly added. ‘Not brave enough to fight. That takes real courage, Mr Potter.’
Satisfied, the man lurched away through the passageway and disappeared into the living room.
Alice led Eynon into the lean-to kitchen and made them tea. Opening a storage tin she offered him a slice of cake bought earlier as a special treat.
‘Queued for half an hour for that,’ she told him as he took a bite of the gaudy yellow mixture.
; They didn’t stay long. Eynon’s train would leave in an hour and they wanted to spend the time talking freely, so they went to the park.
Children were playing chase among the bushes, they could hear the lop-lop of a tennis game in progress and couples strolled along the paths enjoying the mild weather. They ran out of things to say, both aware of the nearness of their parting. Unimportant comments were exchanged: ‘I think I’ll have my hair cut,’ Alice said after a long silence began to make her edgy.
‘No, Alice!’ She was surprised at the vehemence of his reaction.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I want to remember you and know you look the same. I don’t want you to change until I’m back home for good. I’ll be going overseas soon and I need to have a picture of you in my mind. Just as you are at this moment.’
She understood and smiled. ‘I promise I won’t change a thing. I’ll be waiting for you just as I am this moment.
An hour later Eynon would have had difficulty recognising her. As she walked through the door, her father grabbed her by the long hair she had thought of cutting and dragged her into the living room. ‘Weak little soldier!’ he shouted, repeating it again and again as he hit her. ‘Keep right away from him, d’you hear? Coward he is, not having no guts for a fight, what use is he to anyone, eh?’ His fist cut her lip and bruised her eye and as she tried to stem the blood running from her nose she wondered if she would ever escape from her father’s frustrated anger.
* * *
In June, a few days after Eirlys had taken possession of her flat, there was another attempt on the part of Beth and Peter to arrange their wedding. As before, the plan was aborted only hours before the event. Beth put away her wedding dress for the second time and went with Eirlys to her flat where Eirlys provided a meal. ‘What’s the opposite of celebration?’ Beth asked sadly. ‘Whatever it is, this is it.’
‘Nonsense, it’s just another rehearsal, and a house-warming for my new home.’
Having been given the evening off in preparation for the wedding, Beth suggested they go for a walk. Inevitably their footsteps took them to Peter’s father, Bernard Gregory, who was walking home through the lanes with his donkeys. Teresa’s three boys were with them and ran to greet Eirlys with affection.
‘Where’s your mam?’ Eirlys asked.
‘Rowing with Uncle Morgan.’ Harold grumbled. ‘Can’t stand all that shouting so we went to the treehouse, but it’s rotting and Uncle Morgan says he’ll repair it but he doesn’t.’
All this came out in a rush and Eirlys looked at Stanley and smiled. ‘Never was the most tolerant of people, your brother, was he?’
Mr Gregory promised to talk to Morgan about repairing the treehouse and they ran back home discussing what was needed, while Eirlys and Beth followed the dainty-footed animals back to Sally Gough’s field and their evening meal.
Comfortably at home in the cottage on the smallholding that was Bernard’s home, Beth made a pot of tea and set out the small cakes Eirlys had brought. Her first cooking in her new fiat, they were sticky, shiny, fatless sponge cakes. She exchanged news of Peter with the small man and, with a little prompting, Bernard produced his photograph albums and led them through Peter’s childhood, revealing facets of the local families too.
It was late and, although it was not yet dark, Bernard insisted on taking them home. The horse was harnessed and they clip-clopped through the lanes on the back of his cart, the long way around, enjoying the peaceful journey, allowing the quiet countryside and the slow pace to relax them.
The atmosphere in Bernard’s cottage had soothed her, made her problems shrink into a manageable size.
‘Working with animals teaches you patience,’ Bernard said. ‘They won’t be rushed and you have to accept their ace. For the first time since her return, Eirlys slept right through the night.
* * *
The preparations for the summer holiday period were going well. The schools in the town and the surrounding area were all contributing several children from each class, and the choir, under the baton of a retired bandsman, were rehearsing regularly for the six Saturday concerts they would perform. Max and Ken came once or twice and began to plan a Grand Concert in aid of Red Cross parcels to be sent to the prisoners of war in Germany. To their delight, Shirley and Janet were included in the list of performers. Dancing to ‘Two o’Clock Jump’, the Harry James number, they rehearsed at home and whenever they went to a dance and could persuade the compére to play the record.
One Saturday evening when Bleddyn was not working at the chip shop he invited Shirley’s mother to go with him to the dance. ‘Not to perform,’ he added quickly. ‘I haven’t danced for years. I thought we could sneak in and watch Janet and your Shirley without them knowing we’re there.’
* * *
Shirley received another letter from Freddy Clements, her first dance partner, the one who had introduced her to the joys of dance, which in turn led to her singing in public. He had joined the army on the same day as Eynon, and for a while had expected her to wait for him. Knowing how easy it had been to take him away from Beth Castle, Shirley had no illusions about his loyalty.
The letter didn’t mention her singing, just told her the few things the censor would allow about his daily activities. Irritated, she threw it aside. She wouldn’t write back; it was better not to hang on to the past. The future with its promise of great things was what she dreamed of, encumbrances of the past were not for her. Freddy was boring. A man with an uninteresting past and no future. Dragging failures along, trying to find them a place in constantly changing fortunes was for losers. She had to forget the past and move on. There was a time to let people go. If they didn’t want the same thing, or could cause you to miss chances, they had to be abandoned like a dress that was no longer the right style.
She was already becoming irritated by the constant companionship of Janet. Their partnership had been all right for a while and she knew they stood a good chance of making a reasonable success of their singing and dancing act. It just wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to stand on stage and accept the applause knowing it was hers alone. Janet had outgrown her usefulness. The night she had tried to enter the contest without her and had been cheated by Joseph still rankled. She didn’t want to finish with Joseph, although he was not a part of her future plan. She needed him for a while yet, to take her to places when she didn’t feel confident going alone.
Joseph did very little apart from escorting Shirley and Janet to their concerts and to dances. When he wasn’t needed as their escort, he came home from work and, after cleaning himself up and eating the meal provided by his mother, he would sit and read to his wife. It was weeks since Dolly had felt well enough to get out of bed and come downstairs so he spent more and more time up in her bedroom.
Besides reading, he talked to her about Shirley and Janet and others who frequented the dances. Unable to go and resigned to that fact, Dolly enjoyed hearing about the music and the people he met, reminding him sometimes when she began to feel afraid, of his promise not to become too fond of anyone else.
He flattered her, told her she was too lovely to ever fear a rival.
‘I’m too boring to attract someone else.’ He would smile, repeating the reassurances as often as she needed them. ‘Don’t you think I realise how lucky I am to have found a lovely girl like you to love? I wish you would get well a bit faster, but apart from your illness, there’s nothing in my life I want to change.’
He knew he was lying; she knew he was lying; but the game of pretend helped them to cope.
The Saturday dance was a regular arrangement with Janet and herself but Shirley learned from Eirlys that on the following Wednesday there was a special evening which included a talent competition organised by the council entertainment committee. There would be someone there looking for acts for a prestigious open-air variety show on the promenade once every week during the peak holiday month. Besides local talent, professional performers would be invited
to take pan.
Singers either solo or in groups were required as well as dancers. Shirley wanted to dance solo and sing too. As confidence in herself had grown so had her voice. Janet was definitely not needed.
On Wednesday morning she asked her mother to mind the shop for an hour and went to the market café. Holding her head and putting on a dramatic expression, she announced to Janet that she had a ‘real bad head’. ‘I can’t go to the singing lesson or practise the dance,’ she complained sadly. ‘I doubt if I’ll be well enough for tonight, so why don’t you go on your own?’
‘I won’t do that, we’re a double act. No, we’ll miss it if you don’t feel up to it. There’ll be other chances. I’ll go and see some of my friends. I’ve neglected them these past weeks.’
‘Thanks, Janet, you’re a real good pal.’
Relieved that her plan had worked, Shirley walked sorrowfully until she was out of sight, then picked up speed and ran back to the shop to prepare for the singing lesson. She would be picked for the display, she just knew it. She would think of an excuse for Janet later. She had a momentary twinge of conscience for the way she was cheating her friend, but it soon passed. No one ever achieved anything worthwhile without being strong-minded, and she knew she wanted this badly enough to risk Janet’s friendship.
An audience had been invited to watch the rehearsals and a small fee charged in aid of one of the war charities. No opportunity was lost to make money to help the army, navy and air force at this time.
When she walked into the dance hall, which was now filled with rows and rows of occupied seats, the first person she saw was her mother. Hetty and Bleddyn had found a place in a dark corner but it was close to the cloakroom and Shirley bumped right into them.
‘Mam? Mr Castle? What are you doing here?’
‘We hoped you wouldn’t see us,’ Hetty said. ‘We wanted to watch you and Janet without you knowing we’re here, not to make you nervous, you see.’