Holidays at Home Omnibus

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

  ‘What’s this nonsense? You’ll be with me.’

  ‘I’ll be there for as long as you want me,’ Janet promised and they were continuing the conversation in friendly argument as they left the stage door.

  They were among the first to leave, not stopping to change out of their stage clothes, using their long coats to cover their bare legs, protecting themselves against the chill. It was dark, no lights escaping to help them find their way, and they pushed through the crowd emerging in a chattering flood, heading towards the corner where Joseph had promised to wait for them.

  Shirley and Janet ran towards him, expecting him to be bursting with praise, but he took Shirley’s arm and pulled her somewhat roughly towards where he had a taxi waiting.

  ‘A taxi? Why? It isn’t that far to walk,’ Shirley protested as they half ran, trying to keep up with his long angry strides.

  ‘You can’t walk through the streets dressed in that disgusting outfit!’ he said as the taxi driver opened the door for them.

  ‘What? Joseph, why are you angry? Didn’t you see how well we went down? It was wonderful and the costumes were perfect for the numbers we sang.’

  ‘Numbers, is it? Not songs, it’s numbers now.’

  Pulling on Janet’s arm, Shirley pulled herself away from Joseph’s grip and stepped away from the open door of the taxi. ‘Come on, Janet, we’d be better off walking than riding with a madman!’ Leaving Joseph calling after them they hurried off.

  Neither spoke as they hurried through the chattering crowds and headed for home through the dark damp streets; Janet because she didn’t know what to say, and Shirley because she was close to tears.

  Determined not to be upset by Joseph’s reaction to their performance, Shirley and Janet went to the Saturday dance. Janet hated going, knowing she would never again dance with Max, but Eirlys had told them that Ken was due home. He might be there and he was always a great comfort.

  Joseph paid and went in but he didn’t show himself to the girls. He stood in a dark corner and watched. Janet sang with Ken during the interval and Shirley sang a solo with Ken accompanying her on the piano. When they left in the company of Ken and one of his friends, greeting each other with light, friendly kisses, Joseph watched as the two men walked off with Shirley and Janet chattering happily between them.

  A letter arrived for Shirley with a London postmark and the address of an agency on the corner. As before, Hetty hesitated before giving it to her, but this time she guessed that a disappointing response would not be as hard to take. Now the two girls were starting rehearsals for the panto Shirley wouldn’t be so hurt. She handed it to Shirley when she went down to relieve her for her mid-morning break.

  ‘They’ve been a long time making up their minds,’ Shirley remarked as she tore open the envelope. She frowned as she read it. ‘Mam, I don’t understand. They’re asking why I didn’t accept their previous offer of a part in the chorus of a new musical. I didn’t have any offer. What can have happened to it?’

  Hetty’s hands flew to her mouth, a universal expression of shock and dismay. ‘I — oh Shirley, I’ve been so stupid!’

  When Hetty told her daughter about the previous letter and Joseph taking it away without showing her, they both knew what had happened.

  ‘He lied, didn’t he?’ Hetty said.

  ‘I wonder if that was the first time?’ Shirley mused when the anger had left her. ‘I’ve always been puzzled about the time Janet won over me. Both Janet and I thought the decision was phoney. She didn’t sing well that night. The range was wrong for her, it wasn’t one of our rehearsed numbers and she even forgot the words at one point and Ken helped out.’

  ‘Keep well away from the man,’ Hetty warned.

  Later Hetty asked Bleddyn to have a word with Joseph, which he did, his burly strength and aggressively jutting yaw unnerving Joseph for a while, but not for long. He was convinced that Shirley belonged to him and he would marry her. Once she had got this foolishness out of her system she would turn to him for protection and comfort.

  * * *

  Myrtle Copp didn’t really enjoy delivering groceries on the big carrier bicycle after school, specially now the evenings were so cold and dark. Most of the customers were friendly but there were a few who grumbled about the few biscuits that were broken and regularly blamed her for dented tins or a bacon ration that looked less than perfect.

  The call she most feared was to the run-down shop premises where Alice Potter lived with her father. Colin Potter regularly complained to her for one reason or another and every time she knocked on the door she held her breath, waiting for the angry, shouted words. He would look at the box of groceries and poke the bags and packages, frequently handing back an item he didn’t think they should buy and demanding that she make a note on the bill explaining the reduction.

  Because she wanted to finish early and go to help Hannah in the gift shop, she carried three small orders instead of making three journeys and the bike was top-heavy and nearly toppled over once or twice.

  Getting used to the weight, she began to hurry and when she knocked the wheel against the kerb and lost her balance, falling into the road on top of the laden bike, she was angry with herself, knowing there would be a delay.

  A lady took her inside and washed her cuts and bruises but all the time she was aware that she would be late delivering to Colin Potter and she grew more and more afraid. He always complained if she arrived later than he expected. The other worry was that biscuits would be broken and what if the eggs were too? She knew she would have to go back to the shop to get them replaced and that would make her later still.

  To her relief the two eggs were unharmed and she carefully repacked them in their paper bag, tucked for safety in tissue paper and placed between soft items like the packet of tea and a loose-wrapped bag of sugar.

  Knocking on the door she listened nervously for the slow, dragging footsteps as the man walked down the long passageway, leaning against the wall to maintain his precarious balance. Since being injured in a boxing match he had never been able to walk unaided, and his temper was far from good. The wild-looking man snatched the order without a word and slammed the door. She was so relieved she was smiling as she set off for the next call. Thank goodness that ordeal was over for another week, she thought as she heaved the heavy carrier bike away from the wall.

  * * *

  Once the beach activities were finished until the following year, Marged and Huw and the rest of the Castle family usually looked for work to see them through the winter months. Bleddyn kept his usual job of running the fish-and-chip café in town and Beth helped him. This year Beth also managed to work in the new handmade gift shop with Hannah for several hours on most days. In between serving customers she would sit working on new items to offer for sale, her fingers guided by the patient Hannah.

  Several people had brought handwork good enough for them to sell and Eirlys had devised a numbering system to enable them to know who needed paying for what had been sold at the end of each week. They weren’t making much money but they had hopes that with Christmas approaching, they would soon sell all they could make.

  Hannah still did her dressmaking, taking the work to the shop when it was possible, to enable her to spend more hours there. Dashing off to meet Josie and Marie from school curtailed the time spent selling their handcrafts except when Bleddyn was free. When he could he took the two girls home or to the park.

  Eirlys and Beth often went to the shop on Sunday to clean and redress the window. Time was precious for everybody and with both of them working five and a half days a week, Eirlys at the office, Beth in Janet’s café, they needed to show the others they were doing their fair share.

  One Sunday morning in late October, Eirlys was painting a design on the window of the shop door, when Evelyn, Taff’s widow, called to speak to Beth.

  ‘Do you know that Taff’s father is planning to marry Hetty Downs?’ she said as Eirlys opened the door for her.

 
‘Yes, I think it’s great news, don’t you?’

  ‘Not really. Taff was very fond of his mother and he’d have been hurt.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ Eirlys snapped. ‘What is it about you and weddings, Evelyn? You hated it when I was going to marry Johnny and you weren’t any happier when Johnny married Hannah.’

  ‘That isn’t true. I didn’t think it was right for you to marry Johnny when your father and Johnny’s mother were — you know — seeing each other.’

  ‘Carrying on?’ Eirlys suggested. ‘Having an affair? Go on, you can say it!’

  ‘If Bleddyn found out that your father was the one who’d led her away from him, he’d kill him.’

  ‘Led her away?’ Eirlys gasped. ‘What world d’you live in? Irene Castle wouldn’t go or do anything she didn’t want to.’

  ‘Took advantage of her unhappiness, that’s what I think!’ Evelyn snapped. ‘But whatever — Bleddyn would still want to kill him.’

  ‘He won’t find out though, will he? Unless you want to tell him.’ Eirlys stared at Evelyn and wondered if that was on her mind. ‘If you do it’ll be pure mischief. No good can come of it, not now Irene’s dead, so you’d be deliberately making trouble for the fun of it,’ she warned.

  ‘I don’t believe in secrets. Best the truth is known.’

  ‘Why? Don’t you think it wise to protect innocent people? Or can’t you resist telling secrets for the malicious pleasure you get from revealing them?’

  ‘You’ve no right to talk to me like that! Your husband is out gallivanting with other women, going dancing as though he was single, and you don’t seem to care. And there’s me a widow, my husband not even allowed a funeral!’ She sobbed, but Eirlys didn’t attempt to comfort her. Evelyn was a difficult person to befriend, there was always disapproval in her conversations.

  ‘This has nothing to do with the tragedy of Taff’s death. Evelyn, this is you wanting to upset people. You should wish your father-in-law luck and welcome Hetty Downs into the family,’ Eirlys said firmly.

  ‘The Castles aren’t my family any longer. I’m Mrs Taff Castle in name but I no longer belong.’

  ‘That’s up to you. Bleddyn will treat you like a daughter-in-law for as long as you behave like one.’

  ‘How can I behave like one with Taff dead and Bleddyn carrying on with his chip shop as though nothing’s happened? He should feel as bad as I do but he doesn’t. He’s indifferent to the loss of his son.’

  Eirlys’s voice softened. ‘Go and see him, Evelyn, at least share your grief with him. He holds up for the rest of us but he’s finding it hard. I know him well enough to see that even if you don’t.’

  Pushing the door open and almost upsetting the tins of paint Eirlys was using. Evelyn ran down the street. Eirlys frowned. She hadn’t handled that very well, she thought sadly.

  Evelyn’s remarks about Ken going dancing as though he were single hadn’t registered. If she had thought about them she would have put them down to Evelyn’s spitefulness, nothing more.

  Evelyn went to Brook Lane and knocked on Bleddyn’s door before walking in, calling, ‘Dad? Are you there?’

  Bleddyn came out of the living room carrying an empty coal scuttle. ‘Just lit the fire, I have. You’ve timed it well for a cup of tea if you’ve got time.’

  She nodded and watched as Bleddyn went outside and refilled the scuttle, washed his hands meticulously and started to set the tray for tea. Her face wore a sullen look. He didn’t seem to be grieving. If Eirlys thought he was hiding it out of concern for others she was wrong. He was getting on with life, lighting fires, making tea, cooking chips as though that awful message hadn’t come. She could hardly stop the words coming; she felt an uncontrollable urge to shock him, hurt him.

  When the tea was poured and the formal politenesses were done with, she said, ‘Taff was so proud of you, Dad.’

  ‘Proud of me? What have I ever done to make anyone proud? All I’ve done with my life is have fun on the beach like an overgrown kid!’

  ‘Well, the way you coped with Mam being so ill.’

  ‘That was easy, you marry for better or worse. Anyone would have done what I did.’

  ‘And keeping control when you found out about her and Morgan Price, that takes a strong man, Taff said.’

  ‘What about Irene and Morgan Price?’

  ‘Oh, I thought you knew. I mean, I must have been mistaken. Sorry, I misunderstood something that was said. Stupid of me, eh?’

  Bleddyn was thoughtful as they sipped tea and touched the tops of a dozen subjects trying to make a conversation. His head was buzzing with half-remembered incidents and half-said words. When Evelyn had gone, he grabbed a coat and went to find Morgan.

  On the way he passed the shop where Eirlys was finishing her painting, and stopped to ask, ‘Where’s that father of yours?’

  ‘At home I think. Why do you want him, Mr Castle? Anything I can help with?’

  ‘Not this time. I have to see Morgan and I just might kill him!’

  ‘Did you see Evelyn?’ Eirlys asked as the man hurried on. When he called back over his shoulder that he had, she knew exactly why he was looking for her father. What an unpleasant girl Evelyn could be. So pompously certain of herself, never deviating from her own rigid rules, never accepting that she could be wrong.

  Hastily locking the shop, she ran through alleyways and over waste ground, determined to get there first. Perhaps one day, Evelyn might make a mistake herself or, even more unlikely, she might make allowances for someone else’s. Eirlys thought as anger simmered.

  When she burst into the house she found her father reading the Sunday papers.

  ‘Get out, Dadda. Bleddyn Castle’s on the way to find you, and he knows about you and his wife,’ she gasped.

  * * *

  Bleddyn walked fast, his hands bunched into fists. He was longing to push his fist into Morgan’s face. The man had made a fool of him. His jaw tightened as he realised that others must have known and had been laughing at him. His pace slowed a little as he thought of Hetty and how happy his life had become since Irene’s death, and of the loss of his eldest son. His temper calmed as he put the affair between Morgan and his wife into the past. But he still needed to relieve his fury.

  Morgan ran down the garden, jumped over the fence into next door and leaped two more fences, making his way to the allotment shed where he locked himself in and sat, shivering, as he waited for Bleddyn to appear. He always knew this day would come but had hoped to delay it until both he and Bleddyn were too old to fight. As he sat in the dark musty-smelling shed, his imagination saw Bleddyn grow taller and fiercer by the minute.

  When the knock came he felt his muscles become liquid.

  ‘Come out, Morgan Price! Come out and face me like a man!’

  Morgan cringed, making himself as small as possible even though he knew he couldn’t be seen. He’d stay here as long as it took, until Bleddyn gave up and went away.

  ‘I know you’re in there, and I can wait all today and tomorrow. I am a very patient man, Morgan Price.’ He said nothing more and the minutes passed. On a nearby allotment a man could be heard rooting out a few parsnips, the fork digging into the soil, hitting stones as the earth was smoothed over the empty space, the man calling across to a friend nearby. Morgan sat on the floor hardly daring to breathe for fear of being heard.

  In a more casual voice, Bleddyn said, ‘Its all right, you know. I knew there was someone. I just didn’t know it was you. Irene was unhappy and sick. She tried to find happiness but it always eluded her. Perhaps I should thank you for giving her some excitement, some fun. What d’ you think, eh?’

  Morgan said nothing and didn’t move a fraction of an inch even though something hard was sticking into his leg and his arm was stiff.

  ‘You were the worst off, weren’t you, ruining your daughter’s happiness. She turned my Johnny down because of your carrying-on and there she is, married to Ken, and even I can see she’s very unhappy. You’ve got that to live
with, so you’re the worst off. No, I don’t feel any bitterness towards you for the trouble you caused. Irene’s death wasn’t really down to you. And my son Johnny is very happy with Hannah. It’s Eirlys’s life you’ve messed up and you have to see her every day and know what you did to her. Live with that, can you?’

  Inside the shed Morgan’s heart was racing. He knew what his affair with Irene Castle had cost his daughter and hearing someone else saying it was more than he could take. He stood up and opened the door.

  ‘I regret what I did more than you know. But I’ve suffered too. Losing Annie, then Teresa and the three boys was a punishment. I miss them all terribly. And you’re right. I’ve suffered bitter regret seeing Eirlys so unhappy, knowing I caused her to leave your Johnny.’

  ‘Sorry, but you’ll have to suffer some more,’ Bleddyn said as he swung a fist at Morgan’s face, then stomped off.

  The man working close by called, ‘Hey, what’s going on? I’ll call the police, mind, if you don’t stop.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Morgan shouted back with a voice that sounded different from usual, echoing around in his head like the railway announcements in an enclosed station. ‘It’s all right, Arthur, I only bumped into the door.’

  ‘A right hook from a shed door? That’s a good ’un! Haven’t heard that one before.’

  Eirlys said nothing as she bathed her father’s face and put a plaster over a cut on his cheekbone. Neither did she mention it when she next saw Bleddyn. Her father had it coming and in her opinion he’d got less than he deserved.

  * * *

  Beth had a letter from Peter telling her he was coming home for forty-eight hours’ leave. She showed it to his father. ‘We don’t usually know when to expect him, so I wonder what this leave means?’

  ‘Don’t look for problems, Beth love. Be thankful he’s coming.’ They both knew that his leaves usually meant he was off on a dangerous mission behind enemy lines.