‘The last time he was home he looked so ill, I hated seeing him go back before he was fully recovered,’ Beth said.
Scrounging oddments of fat from her parents, swapping some tea for some extra sugar and offering a few duck eggs in exchange for some marmalade, Beth made a cake, the marmalade plus grated carrot and a few prunes being a substitute for fruit. Not the usual Christmas cake but it would have to do and they would celebrate Christmas when Peter came home, whenever that was, in case he couldn’t get leave in December. She decided to decorate the room too and spent some time gathering holly, ivy and branches of the blackthorn bushes which she painted white in place of a Christmas tree and on which she hung baubles and glitter.
One of the people making gifts to sell produced fine quality hand-knitted ties and she bought one, wrapped it and put it in the corner where they intended to place the tree. Christmas — their first Christmas together — would be early, but it would be as perfect as she could make it.
With a month to go to Christmas Day, Peter arrived and, to her relief, looked fitter than when she had last seen him.
‘Good news.’ he said after kissing her and hugging his father. ‘I’m staying in this country, at least for a while. Training others to do what I’ve been doing, hoping to give them the skills I’ve learned, to keep themselves alive.’
It was a celebration far more exciting than any other even though they weren’t allowed to tell anyone else the reason for their happiness. For the foreseeable future Peter would not have to face the danger of being dropped behind enemy lines working to help flyers and others to make their way home through occupied country. Beth hoped that his new appointment training others, sharing the knowledge he had gained over the past three years, would keep him home, safe, until the war ended, no matter how long it took to defeat Hitler.
* * *
Huw and Marged were kept busy catering for the flood of weddings continuing to take place that year. Marged opened the café on the cliff high above the beach on these occasions, even though the weather was often cold and damp. It made the poorest of wedding parties more exciting having the unusual and beautiful setting for the wedding breakfast. Huw made sure that the black—out for the windows was kept in good condition because even when the meals were arranged for the afternoon, the celebration sometimes went on until darkness had fallen.
Alice Potter, who helped in the seaside rock and sweet shop on the promenade during the summer, sometimes came to help. She was shy and still had to be coaxed before she would tell Marged she had heard from Eynon. Teasing, probing, nothing would persuade her to give a hint about how she felt about him. Her face would redden and even Huw felt sorry for his teasing and gave up on it.
Secretly, Marged wondered whether Alice and her youngest son would be the next wedding the Castle family would celebrate.
* * *
Eirlys had watched Ken storm out of the house. He had arrived late the previous evening and when he announced his intention to go and see Janet and Shirley, she asked him not to go. ‘Surely it isn’t unreasonable to expect some of your time?’ she had complained.
‘Shirley asked me to go and see them, it’s something to do with a charity concert. You know,’ he’d said sarcastically. ‘the war effort?’
The argument increased and had ended with Ken storming out while Eirlys stood on the doorstep staring after him, wondering how he could have changed into a bad-tempered stranger.
With rehearsals every day except Sundays and Mondays, Shirley and Janet were very busy. Beth was running the market café and enjoying the experience and Shirley’s boss had been persuaded to allow Hetty to take her daughter’s place at the newsagent. So when they were asked to sing at yet another concert, they had to refuse.
That evening, straight from the row with Eirlys. Ken went to see Janet on the excuse of asking her to take part in the concert. She had been thinking about Max. Ken was fresh from a row with Eirlys, and comforting each other got out of hand within minutes. They made love, each one acting to punish the one they loved: Janet felt both regret and anger with Max for being outside during that air raid, and Ken hated Eirlys at that moment, for what he considered such a lack of understanding.
They both went separate ways and arrived at Shirley’s fiat a few minutes apart to plead for her help with the concert. It was for the victims of air raids, to buy them replacements for their lost possessions.
The two girls agreed to ask permission from their producer and after careful consideration he agreed. ‘Nothing once we’re into production.’ he warned. ‘but as it’s for such a worthy cause, you have my permission.’
Ken spent a little time rehearsing with them, then he had to go away to appear in a concert at an RAF camp in Yorkshire, promising to try to get back in order to take them and escort them home.
As the day of the concert approached, there was no sign of Ken. Janet blamed herself for becoming involved. He had to stay away, how could they face each other? He was married to Eirlys. What they had done was inexcusable.
‘Pity Joseph hadn’t been born with more sense.’ Janet sighed. ‘Pain that he is, we could do with him sometimes.’
‘I hope I never see him again,’ Shirley said angrily. ‘He tried every way he could to ruin our chances of a career in show business and I hope he rots.’
‘From the feet up. Slowly,’ Janet added.
Shirley hadn’t seen Joseph to speak to since his outrageous behaviour had been discovered. He had tried several times but she ignored him. When he came into the shop she threatened to call the police and, if there were customers in the shop, she begged them to get him out. For the sake of his reputation he had to stay away. But he had been seen skulking in corners at the dances she and Janet had attended. She sometimes wondered whether he went to every dance advertised in the hope of her being there. Otherwise, how did he know when and where they were planning to go?
The concert in which they were to appear was held at a large hall not far from the centre of town and the seats were all taken. To Shirley’s irritation when she peeped around the curtain before the performance began, sitting in the centre of the front row was Joseph with his mother. She didn’t want to embarrass Mrs Beynon, realising that she would be unaware of her son’s activities — which was probably why he had brought her — but she hated performing in front of Joseph. Imagining his strong disapproval would inhibit her and she knew she would give less than her best.
Janet looked around for Ken. If he could be found he would somehow get Joseph shifted. It was almost time for curtain-up before she spotted him and leaving Shirley backstage she ran down to explain to him what had happened.
Ken was not performing and sat in the third row with Eirlys.
‘Eirlys, excuse me but Shirley and I need Ken’s help,’ she said as the band began to play the introduction. She quickly told them about their unwanted guest and Ken left Eirlys to speak to the manager of the hall.
The result was Joseph and his mother being apologetically moved to the back row and a refund of their ticket money offered, plus the explanation that an important agent from London was there to see some of the acts.
‘An important theatrical agent who tried to get in touch with her by writing to her — several weeks ago!’
Joseph stung under the words. Ken was making sure he understood about the agent’s letter. Without a word of complaint, he and his mother moved, magnanimously refusing the refund.
The Two Jays were near the end, but instead of rushing off when their spot ended, they waited hoping to meet Ken and Eirlys after the finale. They were both still wearing their long, white dresses as they stepped towards the stage entrance. This was usually easier than trying to get through the crowd at the front doors. From voices coming back to them they learned that it was pitch black and raining heavily. They caught a glimpse of Joseph obviously waiting for them and turned away from the exit; instead they went out through a rarely used delivery door at the back of the hall. The rain and the darkness wa
s startlingly and frightening. They couldn’t see a thing.
‘It’s like we’ve stepped into the final scene of a horror film,’ Janet said nervously, ‘cutting us off from everything that’s bright and busy, leaving us alone and helpless in the gloomy night.’
‘Stop it,’ Shirley said, laughing. Then exasperated, she exclaimed, ‘This was a stupid mistake. Damn Joseph for making us skulk around like villains! Why do we let him do it to us?’
‘Shall we go back in and use the front?’ Janet suggested.
‘If we don’t hurry we’ll miss Eirlys and Ken.’ But the door had closed behind them and couldn’t be opened from outside.
‘Which way do we go?’ Janet asked. ‘I can’t remember where we were to meet.’
‘I’m not sure. It’s so dark, and coming out of a different entrance I’ve lost my bearings,’ Shirley said. ‘Damn this rain. My hair will need washing and curling tomorrow morning after this.’
Feeling their way, following a wall, bumping into unseen objects, sending a metal bin clanging away, and tripping over their skirts, progress was slow and the rain was soaking into their clothes. ‘I’ll go this way, you go that way and if we miss them we’re bound to meet up at the main entrance and then we’ll get a taxi. Right?’
‘Right.’
Both girls set off and Shirley moved slowly to the corner of the building. Having no light to help, she clung on to the wall as she felt her way around the first corner. Why hadn’t they used the main entrance like the rest? It was usually quicker to use another door and avoid the audience’s departure but not on a wet, dark night in December when she wasn’t sure of the way, she thought as she worked her way along the seemingly endless wall.
She heard the sound of cars starting up and moving off as she approached the second corner which she hoped would bring her in sight of the front of the building and the car park. Then a shadow, barely discernible in the night, loomed upon her and Joseph’s voice said, ‘Shirley, please let me talk to you. I can explain why I did it. It was for you.’
‘Go away,’ she shouted, hoping someone would hear her.
‘I was only thinking of what’s best for you,’ he said.
‘Rot! Rubbish! Get away from me!’ She felt his hand on her arm, holding her back, and she pushed him hard and ran to where the sound of voices represented safety. She ran without thinking straight across the tarmac towards the pavement and a car suddenly came towards her, close, very close. As it was reversing, the driver couldn’t see her and she backed out of the way, desperately shouting. She reached behind her with a hand, trying to find the wall, afraid of falling in the high-heel shoes she was wearing.
The car came on slowly, forcing her towards the wall of the building in which she had just been a performer, and voices continued and laughter rang as the sound of the engine filled her mind like a nightmare. The dull glow of the car’s lights were too weak for her to be seen by the happy crowd so close by, her shouts lost in the excited chatter.
‘Janet!’ she screamed, then the car hit her. Mercifully the driver had risked getting his head wet and looked out of his window to check his position. He saw the white of her dress and jumped on the brakes.
Shirley collapsed over the boot of the car. Her screams went on and on. People gathered around. The driver shouted his innocence. Janet cried. Unknown voices asked questions and others tried to reassure her. But the sound of the engine was still in her head and the voices came to her muffled as though through an echoing tunnel.
The next few hours were never fully remembered. She had flashes of scenes in which she was carried, remembered voices filled with concern, and in her head she heard Janet crying. Then there had been an ambulance taking her on a journey with Janet beside her, and a trolley taking her through hospital corridors that seemed to go on for ever.
She awoke in bed in a ward with other beds either side of her, coming out of a nightmare filled with fear, in which she was shouting at the driver of the car that had hit her. When she opened her eyes, the occupants of the other beds and the nurse sitting at her desk in the centre of the room were all staring at her. Then the nurse smiled and came over.
‘Glad to have you back with us, Miss Downs. Your mother and Janet are outside. Would you like to see them?’
‘What’s this?’ For the first time Shirley noticed the high mound of bedclothes covering her legs.
‘You hurt your legs, I’m afraid, but we’ll soon have you up and about. A few months and you’ll be on your feet again. Don’t worry about anything. That’s what we’re here for. We’ll do the worrying and you concentrate on getting well.’
‘My legs? But I’m a dancer!’
‘Not for a while. Miss Downs, not for a while.’
Shirley tried to move, get out of bed, prove to herself that the nurse was wrong. The pain was followed by paralysing fear, causing her to scream.
‘No more of that, now,’ the nurse admonished severely. ‘Screaming and making that dreadful noise won’t help you or anyone else. Stay calm; your mother and your friend are upset enough without you making a fuss.’
‘A fuss? But I’m a dancer!’
‘We’ll see,’ the nurse said with kindly intent. ‘Not being able to dance isn’t the end of the world. Just for now think about how fortunate you were not to have been killed. Another few inches and this could have been far worse. You’ve broken your leg and damaged the muscles of the other. You’ll mend, given time.’
‘I’ve broken my leg?’ Another scream welled up but died unheard.
Janet and Mrs Downs came in and they seemed unable to speak. Janet stood allowing tears to slide down her cheeks and Hetty sat down and put a hand on her daughter’s face and tried to smile.
‘It was Joseph,’ Shirley sobbed. ‘He tried to talk to me, tried to grab me and I ran away and—‘ She turned to Janet and said, ‘That nurse, she seems to think I won’t dance again.’
‘You will. She doesn’t know you like I do. Nothing will stop you taking part in that panto in three weeks’ time. Or if not this one then definitely the next one and that’s a promise.’
‘Nice try, Janet,’ Shirley said, and turned her face away to hide the tears.
Ten
Guilt and remorse made Joseph want to run away, hide from everyone, imagining the whole population of St David’s Well would be pointing a finger and accusing him of Shirley’s injuries. He phoned the office and told them he was ill and wouldn’t be at work for a few days, then sat in his room and stared at the walls. On the evening of the second day he braved the outside world and went to the hospital. It was visiting time and he buried himself in the crowd of visitors standing armed with magazines and flowers and other gifts, and when the doors opened he walked in.
He lost his nerve before he had taken two steps into the ward. Seeing the lines of beds down each wall and the assorted patients looking hopefully towards the arrivals, he backed away.
Using the excuse that he had forgotten the flowers he had intended to bring, he asked a nurse to point out Shirley Downs. He was distressed when he saw her lying there. Her face was as pale as the pillow on which she rested, and with a complicated traction apparatus looming over the bed. He hurried away, bumping into people in his haste.
How could he face her? What could he say? He knew he was really going there to insist she accept it was not his fault. What if she agreed to see him, and could forgive him for the pestering that had resulted in this dreadful injury? What would he do then? After Dolly, how could he face another sick wife? Ashamed of his feelings he went home to hide once more in his room. He couldn’t even talk to his mother. She too would be ashamed of his conditional love.
The following morning he took flowers to the ward and said, ‘Tell her they are from a friend.’
* * *
Shirley was depressed and nothing anyone said comforted her. She asked her mother to write to the producer of the pantomime and explain that she would not be able to take part. The doctors told her she was likely
to be in traction for six weeks and after that would have to use a wheelchair to get around.
When Janet was told about her resignation, she too withdrew from her place in the chorus.
‘Why?’ Shirley demanded. ‘I’m the one who’s injured, you shouldn’t let this spoil things for you.’
‘I won’t enjoy it if you aren’t there. Being together, sharing it all, then travelling home talking about the performance, that would have been the fun,’ Janet explained.
Janet was there when Ken came to see Shirley and after a few nervous seconds there was no uneasiness to spoil their meeting. They joked and laughed and cheered her, but once outside the doors, Janet felt the tears well up and Ken’s arms were a comfort and his lips touching her cheek were both soothing and exciting.
She knew she had no right to be in his arms, even though they were there because of Shirley’s accident. She moved away, dried her eyes and, walking as far away from him as the pavements allowed, hurried home. She didn’t prolong their parting; she just promised to inform him of Shirley’s progress and closed the door firmly against him. She and Ken. It wouldn’t do at all. Then he knocked and she foolishly answered. He stepped inside and held her in his arms.
Then a voice called, and they broke apart to see a figure running down the dark street materialise into Eirlys.
‘Ken?’ she called as she neared them. ‘I’m glad I caught you. I went to the hospital and guessed you’d have seen Janet safely home. It’s Marged’s fiftieth birthday on Saturday and they want you to come for supper. Can you come?’
She was speaking to Ken, but they both answered. ‘I’d love to.’ Their enthusiasm might have surprised Eirlys if she thought about it, but parties were a welcome change from boring routine and she would have recognised their pleasure as nothing more. She was unaware of how relieved they were that the message was so innocent and that the black-out, cursed so often, had prevented her from seeing them moments before.
Holidays at Home Omnibus Page 83