Holidays at Home Omnibus
Page 80
Exasperated at his determination to undermine her happiness she snapped, ‘What if I’m a success? What if I get dozens of offers? What if they make me a star’? What then, eh?’
‘Pigs might fly!’ he retorted, his fear of losing the argument making him childish.
‘Stand by with a popgun!’ she retaliated, equally childishly. ‘We’ll have to shoot for bacon!’
When Bleddyn knocked on the door, Joseph was leaving.
‘Try and talk some sense into Shirley for me, will you?’ Joseph said in response to Bleddyn’s polite greeting.
‘Since when has Shirley been incapable of making her own decisions?’ Bleddyn asked in surprise.
He walked into the large room above the shop which was simply but comfortably furnished. Hetty was sitting near the fire and Shirley went to sit near her.
‘Shirley, I know it’s an awful cheek but would you mind disappearing for a while? I have something to discuss with your mother.’
‘Of course I don’t mind. I’ll go and see Janet,’ Shirley said. Kissing her mother, she grabbed a coat and left.
‘Hetty, will you marry me?’ he said.
‘What did you say?’ a startled Hetty asked.
‘Will you marry me, come to live with me in Brook Lane? You and Shirley can do it up as you want to, make it your home, and if Shirley wants to try to build a career in show business, she’ll have a safe secure place to work from. What d’you say?’
Slowly, Hetty shook her head and, at once, Bleddyn said, ‘Don’t tell me yet, think about it. I won’t rush you. There are so many rushed weddings happening in the town, but we can take our time. I want you to be happy. You and Shirley.’
She reached out her arms and they clung together but Bleddyn didn’t attempt to kiss her. She had been surprised by his words and he wanted to allow her time to recover.
‘I can’t leave the flat, not until Shirley’s made up her mind about this stage career. She needs the shop and we need the flat, at least until she’s decided.’
‘She can live with us until she’s able to manage on her own. I’ll support you both. You can work if you want to or stay at home if that’s what you prefer. I want you to do exactly what you choose. I – I’m not very good at saying this, but I love you, Hetty. I want to spend the rest of my life caring for you. When the boys come home we’ll be one big happy family. They’ll be proud to have your Shirley as a stepsister. As proud as I’d be to have her as a daughter. I hope one day soon you’ll realise you feel the same about me.’
It was a long speech for a usually quiet, unemotional man and when he stopped speaking and Hetty gave no response his spirits dropped. She was unimpressed, she was going to say no.
‘I’d love to marry you, Bleddyn, but I can’t. Not yet.’
‘Then we’ll wait,’ he said, looking at her and smiling. ‘We’ll wait until you can, right?’
‘I promise not to keep you waiting too long before I can say yes.’
She lifted her face for his kiss and they sealed their promise.
One way of dealing with the pantomime season was to ask the owner of the shop for four months’ leave for Shirley, with Hetty taking her place. This was refused.
‘I might have known it couldn’t be that easy,’ Shirley sighed. ‘And next week there’s a first rehearsal. What shall I do, Mam?’
‘Go, of course,’ Hetty smiled. ‘Lie if you have to. I’ll take your place and lie as well. One way or another you’re going to take that part.’
* * *
Alice still wrote regularly to Eynon although for a long time she didn’t know where he was stationed. His letters to her were short and the few lines he had written were further reduced by heavy blue-pencilling. She went on writing, hoping that his lack of response to her questions and comments were due to the heavy restrictions on what he could write and not because her letters failed to arrive.
She visited Eynon’s family and shared the little news she received, each time hoping that the Castle family would have some for her. She didn’t show them his letters – they were too personal for sharing – but passed on news that she thought would interest them. They discussed the embargo on information and surmised that he was in training. But for what and where they were unable to guess.
Lilly listened to the discussions and in her vague way worried about her brother. But her thoughts were more on her own war. Every time the news came through about the loss of a local man, she said at once. ‘Stop it! Stop it. It brings it all back. I know how his wife feels. My baby’s father died a hero, remember.’
They had long ago stopped trying to tell her that other women suffered too and in most cases were married to the man, but Lilly insisted that her family should think of her and not mention such tragedies. Instead she wanted to tell them about Sam and how kind he was to Phyllis. When it was suggested that they meet this wonderful person, she made an excuse.
* * *
The plans to open the gift shop were going ahead but it was difficult to find the time to deal with it all. Eirlys and Hannah had employed Sammy Richards the carpenter, who also played accordion, to make a display area in the windows and make a few shelves for the walls.
Bleddyn had posters printed and distributed, telling people that the shop would open soon, and had placed an advertisement in the local newspaper. Behind the whitewashed window panes the cleaning and planning went on. Passers-by stopped and screwed up their eyes trying to peer inside, curious and hoping to be among the first to know what was happening.
With a weekend of hard work ahead of them, Hannah, Eirlys, Bleddyn and Morgan arrived at the lock-up shop prepared to wash and scrub, and paint and fix shelves and, with luck, fill the small window with a display of their rugs and handmade gifts.
Beth and Ronnie’s sister Lilly was supposed to be helping too, but she was so slow and so adept at being absent when something was urgently needing attention that they sent her back home to make sandwiches for their lunch; an excuse to avoid more strenuous work which she managed to stretch out to more than two hours.
Lilly had never been overfond of work and with the rest of the Castles involved with the beach during the season and doing whatever work they could find during the winter, she had managed to reach the age of twenty-eight without exerting herself overmuch. Since the pregnancy and then the birth of her daughter, she’d had the perfect excuse for taking it easy. Mrs Denver, whose son Phil was the father of Lilly’s child, had taken on the role of mother-in-law and she encouraged Lilly to do as little as possible. She wanted to make sure they remained friends.
Mrs Denver’s son, Phil, had two other illegitimate children, both boys, neither of whom she had seen. Once her son had told the women he denied parenthood and wouldn’t help, they had gone away and refused to allow her to see the children. Although Lilly denied it, Phil’s reaction had been the same with her and it was only his death that had allowed her to pretend that he was going to marry her.
Knowing this was her last chance of watching a grandchild grow, Mrs Denver had befriended Lilly and made sure she did nothing to upset her. Whatever Lilly wanted that was in her power to give, Mrs Denver gave. She flattered Lilly and encouraged her in her laziness simply to ensure she was allowed to stay close and share the joy of baby Phyllis.
‘Go on, Lilly love,’ she would frequently urge. ‘There won’t be another time in your life when you have such a good excuse. Pretend you’re suffering and men don’t like to ask questions. Enjoy it while you can. Once this little darling grows up you’ll never have another chance of a bit of sympathy.’
Using the excuse that baby Phyllis needed some fresh air after delivering the sandwiches of tomatoes with a thin sprinkling of grated cheese, Lilly strolled through the town to sit in the park. She looked towards her favourite bench and saw not the young man she usually met but an older man. She sat down and waved a rattle in front of Phyllis’s face. She didn’t look closely so didn’t recognise Sam’s father.
‘Hello, Miss Castl
e?’ the man said politely. Lilly stared at him, frowning, half recognising him, different clothes and hat misleading her. ‘I’m Samuel’s father,’ the man reminded her. ‘I’m Sam Edwards too. What a stupid idea, wasn’t it?’
‘Where’s Sam – I mean, your son?’ she asked.
‘He has a hospital appointment. They’re trying to assess whether or not he has to return to his unit. I’m hoping that he won’t have to go.’
‘I don’t blame you. If they tried to take my child, however old she was, I’d take her away and hide her!’ She smiled and they began to admire the baby. With Sam telling her how beautiful Phyllis was and what a wonderful mother she seemed to be, the afternoon passed pleasantly.
Mrs Denver lived alone since her son Phil had been killed in action. To earn a little money she baked cakes and pies for a local baker’s shop. She usually managed to make an extra cake or two out of the ingredients she was given and kept them for Lilly on her weekly visits. Lilly had one in her bag which she had intended to give to those working in the shop but she had forgotten and proudly handed it to Sam Senior. If he thought she had made it, she couldn’t help that, could she?
Marged sent her out again almost as soon as she got home. She was told to deliver more sandwiches and flasks of tea.
‘Will you give a hand displaying these rag dolls?’ Ronnie asked, handing her a large cardboard box. She did so without attempting to hide her reluctance and when the simple task was almost completed, afraid of being given something else to do, she suddenly announced she was leaving and told them she had a feeling that Mrs Denver needed her.
The others didn’t take much notice of Lilly’s dramatic remark. Lilly’s ‘feelings’ were well know to be an excuse to leave something she didn’t want to do!
‘Just as well,’ Eirlys sighed. ‘She only gets in the way. Thank goodness she brought the food first!’
They had finished scrubbing the wooden floor and intended to stain the boards before leaving that evening. The shelves were now painted a cheerful green and the walls a pale yellow. The transformation from the dingy, neglected premises they had rented was amazing. Tomorrow, when they displayed the rest of their goods, it would be better still.
Hannah had been rather quiet all day and as they packed up their cleaning tools ready to paint the floor before leaving, Eirlys said, ‘You go off home, Hannah, the girls will be missing you. I’ll finish staining the floor.’ Tired as she was, aching in every muscle, she was determined to finish the floor that day.
‘It’s all right, they’re safe and happy with Johnny’s Auntie Marged,’ Hannah said, but there was concern on her gentle features that Eirlys wrongly interpreted as worry about her daughters. Until she had married Johnny, Hannah had never left the girls for so long.
‘You’re right, they’ll be having a lovely time, don’t worry.’ Hannah sat on the edge of the window and her shoulders drooped. ‘It isn’t Josie and Marie. I haven’t heard from Johnny for weeks.’
Bleddyn heard her and added, ‘Evelyn hasn’t heard from Taff either. I expect the boat with the post has been delayed. We have to keep writing and hope our letters get through. It’s more important for them to hear from us at home, remember.’
‘I know. I write every day,’ Hannah said. ‘I’m being silly. No news is good news, isn’t that what they say? Bad news travels fast, and we’d have heard if—’ She couldn’t complete the sentence.
‘Come on, let’s get this finished.’ Bleddyn said brightly. ‘I can’t wait to see Johnny’s face when he sees this place. Imagine you becoming a businesswoman, Hannah love. So proud he’ll be. I always knew you were talented. Bring out the hidden talents of a lot of women this war will. Yes, indeed it will, eh, Eirlys?’
‘I wouldn’t be doing the job I’ve been given if the men hadn’t been called up,’ Eirlys agreed, ‘but right now I’d go back to being an office junior if it would bring them all home safe.’
‘I bet we’ll hear before the end of the week,’ Bleddyn said. ‘Now come on, no slacking, let’s deal with this floor and if either of you paint yourself into a corner you’ll stay there till it’s dry, right?’
When Eirlys finally reached home, tired and stiff and longing for a bath followed by bed, Ken was there. She tried to appear pleased, as she hugged and kissed him and asked what he wanted to eat, but he told her that he wanted to go and see Janet and Shirley to find out how they got on at their audition.
‘Did they get it?’ he asked.
‘I think so. But, Ken, don’t you want to see the shop? We’ve been working on it for days, every moment we could find, and it’s looking really smart.’
‘Oh, yes, well done. We can go on the way back from Janet’s if you like.’ Seeing disapproval on her face he added. ‘I have to take an interest in Janet, because of Max. You do understand, don’t you. Eirlys?’
‘Of course. We’ll look at my effort when it’s too dark to see anything, shall we?’
‘Stupid of me. I forgot. We’ll go there first,’ he amended.
It was tempting to tell him not to bother but she held her tongue, managed without a bath, made an omelette with the crusty remains of their cheese ration for her father and wearily set off with him to see Janet and Shirley.
Her emotion was disappointment, not jealousy. She had achieved something and there was no one with whom to share it. Surely it was not that unreasonable to hope for something more from a marriage than the uninterested, dull relationship that Ken offered? He was extremely busy and spent a lot of time travelling; she knew and understood that, but instead of his hectic life making their time together more precious, she was increasingly certain that Ken felt the same as she did, that their time apart was more exciting than the moments they were together.
She sat in Janet’s small flat, her muscles stiffening and the longing to sleep almost overpowering her, and listened while Janet went through every moment of the day she and Shirley spent in Cardiff and joined, in artificial enjoyment, with Ken’s congratulations.
At Shirley’s home it was a repeat of the same and she kept thinking of a long, warm bath and the last of the bath salts she had been saving for something special. Preparing her shop for opening was something special, but not for Ken; for him, the audition of Janet and Shirley had the edge.
The shop opened, and for the first few days business was brisk. Many people came just to look but there were plenty who either bought or asked for items to be put aside ready to hide away for Christmas.
There were very few goods in the shops towards the end of 1941 and the simple toys made by Hannah and Eirlys filled a need. They put a notice in the front of the window asking for anyone with goods to sell to bring them in for possible inclusion.
The appeal for more goods to sell was not a great success. Most of the soft toys, knitted garments, cushion covers and the like that they were offered were not good enough. The owners were sent away disappointed and in some cases, offended and even angry.
‘If we aren’t careful we’re going to run out of things to sell!’ Hannah sighed as she picked up her sewing and finished off the seam of yet another rabbit.
Beside the rugs, Eirlys’s speciality was dolls and dolls’ clothes and once she had made patterns for the clothes to fit the dolls she made, these were fairly quick to run up. The body, head and limbs were sewn on a machine but the finish was done by hand. Because she did a better job, Hannah stuffed the dolls and did the embroidery that completed them. Each doll was unique, Hannah’s nimble fingers managing to shape the heads into pretty little faces with a variety of features and hair styles.
Eirlys still worked long hours at the council offices and called after work to discuss progress with Hannah and decide what they needed to make. She sat up until late every evening at the sewing machine or knitting small dolls and teddies. Like most people at that time, she rarely wasted a moment; there was always something to be done.
* * *
Beth went home one evening to the cottage she shared with Peter’s f
ather, and Bernard Gregory came out to meet her as she cycled towards the gate.
‘Got a surprise for you,’ her father-in-law smiled, clamping his teeth down on his old pipe. ‘He’s home.’ He held her arm and added softly, ‘He’s been ill, mind, so be prepared to hide the shock of seeing him. We don’t want to upset him, eh?’
Throwing the cycle carelessly down, Beth hardly took in his words. She gave a shout of delight and ran into the house. Her husband was leaning against the fireplace and he looked ghastly ill. His face was sunken and his hair was flattened against his head. Even his eyes were lifeless until she called his name and he looked up.
‘Darling Peter!’ she said as she ran to him. The sight of him made her careful not to be too enthusiastic. He looked as though she might easily knock him over. She pressed her head against his chest, thankful of the opportunity to hide her tears.
‘How long?’ This was always her first question and was usually rewarded with the reply, ‘Not long enough’. Today, however, he smiled weakly and said, ‘Quite a while I think.’
‘Wonderful, your father and I can fatten you up.’
‘I’ve been ill,’ he said.
‘Are you allowed to tell me about it?’
‘No, but I will. I think you should know at least something of what I’ve been doing these past years.’
‘I’ve guessed some of it. Like – you’ve been behind enemy lines, haven’t you?’
‘Trying to form escape routes and helping the underground to create fresh ones every few weeks to protect the brave supporters from being caught. As you guessed, my work was in enemy-held territory.’ He sank back into a chair as though he hadn’t the strength to stand. ‘This time I was taken prisoner and I escaped and needed the routes I’d been planning for myself. Holed up for days unable to show myself was pretty sordid, Beth my darling, and I don’t want to come near you until I’ve been able to clean myself up.’