Holidays at Home Omnibus
Page 84
Janet was shaken at the speed with which she had been able to accept the comfort of Ken’s arms. She was trembling as she closed the door against them and didn’t move for a long time. The precipitous situation, then falling over the edge of dishonesty, cheating on her friend in the most unkind way, hadn’t been a considered plan. It had happened so suddenly she couldn’t remember who had made the first move although she suspected she hadn’t protested, not for a second.
She was undressed and ready for bed when there was another knock at the door. This time Ken pushed his way in and claimed her lips with his and slowly led her to her bed.
* * *
Bleddyn walked home from the hospital with Hetty a few days after the accident. At a convenient shop doorway, he stopped and pulled her into his arms. ‘This might not be the right time to discuss this, love, but with Shirley needing help, why don’t we get married now and share the responsibility?’ He smiled, and Hetty felt the movement of his cheek caress her own. ‘Everyone knows we plan to marry so it won’t come as much of a surprise. Shirley is happy about the idea and I, well, I’d be the proudest man in St David’s Well.’
‘Yes, Bleddyn. I’ll marry you, of course I will. As soon as you want.’
They walked the rest of the way slowly, arm in arm, the promise of a good future stretching out before them. No grand ceremony; because of Shirley’s condition they decided on a quiet affair with very few people present. Then while they waited for Shirley to recover they would get Bleddyn’s house ready to welcome her there.
‘We’ll go the hospital tomorrow and tell Shirley, then we can tell the few who need to know.’ he said. ‘I’ll do everything I can to make sure you and Shirley don’t regret it.’
* * *
While Shirley continued to stay in hospital, Janet had time to think. She was falling in love with Ken Ward and, as he was married to Eirlys, she knew she had to get away – temptation was strong. Besides being aware that Ken and Eirlys were not really compatible, it was the general attitude of people in these dangerous times to grab happiness at the expense of others, convinced that it would be short-lived. She was tempted, so she had to leave.
Being alone, with no family, she clung to St David’s Well and her friends as a substitute for the sisters, brothers and cousins that she lacked. Now she would have to pull up her roots and leave, start again, make new friends. The prospect was frightening.
It wouldn’t be easy, but it had to be soon. Once Shirley was out of hospital she would become involved with her convalescence, become a support for her through the tedious months of recovery. And all the time, Ken would be there. They would visit Shirley, probably take part in concerts together and grow closer and more dependent on each other. There would be opportunities for love. She had to leave but where should she go?
Women were being conscripted for the first time in history from the present month of December: unmarried women from twenty to thirty years old. While she was running the café she would probably be exempt, but if she were not, then to have a choice of what she would do, she would have to make a decision soon. Another reason not to delay.
She considered the options. Land Army? No, she didn’t think she had the stamina for heavy work. Wrens? She liked the uniform, but was that enough? There were posters everywhere inviting women to join the ATS, the WAAF, become a nursing auxiliary, go into factories to make munitions. Then a poster caught her eye.
Get into a good war job now.
Join the NAAFI.
Catering for the armed forces seemed the perfect choice. The more she considered it, the more it became clear that the NAAFI was the place for her. With her experience of running the café single-handed, she would be able to take on a good position and do a good job. She went at once to the recruiting office and filled in the necessary forms, then went to tell Shirley her decision.
Shirley was in the hospital bed, a magazine in front of her face and when Janet approached she saw her friend was not reading but using Woman’s Own to hide her tears.
‘Come on, Shirley Downs, this isn’t the way to get well,’ she encouraged. ‘Don’t you know that laughter is the best medicine? Haven’t the nurses told you that?’
‘I’ll laugh when I find something to laugh at.’ Shirley smiled sadly. ‘I’m lying here thinking about the dances we did, the songs we sang, knowing I’ll never do them again.’
‘Rot! If the doctors have told you that then they don’t know you. I’ve never met anyone more determined than you. Even if the chances of you dancing were less than fifty-to-one I’d back you.’
‘Last night I dreamed we were dancing and I tried to get out of bed. The nurses had to call the doctor to get me back in position. If I’ve disturbed the leg it might mean another operation.’
‘Does it hurt?’
‘No more than usual.’
‘Well, it’s probably all right. You’re fastened in there so tight I doubt if you could escape without half the army coming to help!’
‘What’s new in the outside world?’ Shirley asked, putting down her magazine and drying her swollen eyes.
‘Well, you know that women can be called up as from this month? I’ve decided to get in first, before I’m told where and what to do. I’ve applied to join the NAAFI. You have to agree it’s what I’m best suited for.’
‘You’re leaving St David’s Well?’
‘Only for a while. Once the war’s over I’ll be back.’
‘But why? You’re needed in the market café. Feeding the fighting force isn’t the only way of helping win the war! Women need a cuppa!’
‘Beth is doing all right. I think I can persuade her to stay and run it for me until this is over.’
‘She’ll be working on the beach next summer. What will happen to your café then?’
‘Next summer?’ Janet laughed. ‘This’ll be over before next summer! And you and I will be back on stage, singing our little hearts out!’
‘I don’t think so.’ Shirley sighed. ‘The doctors don’t seem very hopeful of me jumping around in the near future. I’ll be in traction for weeks yet, and even then I’ll need a wheelchair to get around. Crutches in the house, wheelchair if I want to go outside.’ She looked at Janet and asked, ‘Has something happened to make you want to leave?’ She wondered whether Janet had been offered a part in a musical and was afraid to tell her.
‘Nothing except my need to do something to help end this damned war.’ Janet was tempted to tell her friend about her feelings for Ken, but decided that the best kept secrets were in the head of only one person; it was the only safe way of keeping them.
‘I’ll never dance again. I – I don’t even want to go out, so the wheelchair will be wasted on me.’
‘Of course you’ll want to go outside!’
Shirley’s face seemed to collapse as she whispered, ‘What a mess, eh?’
‘I know a few people who’ve broken a leg and I don’t see them in wheelchairs. It’ll only be temporary. You’re talking as though it’s for life.’
‘Might as well be for life, Janet. I’ll never dance again, not like I used to.’
‘A few months from now, you’ll be dancing. Let’s face it, Shirley, you could dance using crutches and still be better than me!’ She was rewarded with a weak smile.
‘Don’t tell anyone about the wheelchair. I need to accept it myself before I can talk about it.’
Janet promised, wondering why the thought of a wheelchair was so frightening. Perhaps Shirley was convincing herself that it would be a permanent necessity, that if she accepted it, she would never live a life without it. If that were so, she ought to tell someone, so they could convince her otherwise.
But who?
The nurses reassured her that Shirley and her mother would be given all the facts, but the break had been a serious one. The doctors were more encouraging and she felt better after speaking to the doctor and then Hetty and Bleddyn. They were all more determined to treat the injury as a temporary setback. Making
plans, dreaming dreams, would help Shirley’s recovery as much as the other aspects of the care.
* * *
In Brook Lane, Bleddyn looked through the post, relieved to find a letter from Johnny. Since the death of his elder son, Taff, he felt a rush of panic every time he saw the telegraph boy in his area and every postal delivery was treated as a threat. If a letter came with unrecognised handwriting, he thought it was from a commanding officer to tell him the worst possible news.
But today was another reprieve. Johnny’s letter was cheerful and contained a hint that he was on his way to North Africa, with his reference to the sand that worked its way into every article of clothing. The reason it hadn’t been blue-pencilled as too revealing and a possible help to the enemy, was explained by the fact that the whole letter was full of reminiscences about the previous summers and their work on the sands of St David’s Well.
In some ways it was a comfort to know where his son was going but at the same time an extra worry when news was given of fierce battles between Rommel’s forces and the British Eighth Army under General Auchinleck.
Marged and Huw heard from Johnny occasionally and, in the way of wartime, they showed their letters to Bleddyn. With everyone there was a thirst for news and even news of other people’s sons was welcomed.
Alice heard from Eynon, Marged and Huw’s younger son, and reading between the lines, it appeared that he was waiting for a posting, but no one knew where it was likely to be. She scanned the newspapers daily wondering if a new offensive was likely and shared her anxiety with Beth and Eirlys. She couldn’t talk as easily to Marged and Huw and she certainly couldn’t share Eynon’s most recent letters with them. They were love letters, telling her of his feelings for her and talking about a future in which she would be his wife.
On 7 December the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. A day later Britain declared war against Japan, and America entered the war. They had supported the British throughout with lease-lend food and in many other ways, but knowing that the strength of their forces was to stand beside their own men gave people heart. With other countries like Finland, Hungary and Romania standing against Britain in the almost global war, and with most of the Continent under German control, for most people it was heartening news. With America on their side, many believed it would soon be over.
Bleddyn put Johnny’s letter aside to show Hannah. They had always shared what news they received. He would show Evelyn too, he decided. With Taff dead, Evelyn was still his daughter-in-law and he wanted to convince her of it. On this occasion he went to Evelyn first.
After reading the letter and agreeing with him about the hint of where Johnny was heading, she handed him another letter, this time in unfamiliar writing. It was from Taff’s commanding officer.
Bleddyn’s hands shook as he read about the qualities his son had possessed, and of his bravery under fire. And of how he had once saved the lives of at least a dozen others by wiping out a gun emplacement on the cliffs above the battlefield.
St David’s Well citizens could no longer feel they were immune to the difficulties and tragedies of war. Too many families had suffered the loss of loved ones.
‘I have something to tell you.’ Bleddyn said as he sat down near the dining table, the table he had helped his son to carry from his grandmother’s house, a gift for his new home. He was hesitant, dreading Evelyn’s reaction to his news, specially now having just received such a letter. He knew that in spite of ill timing it had to be said, otherwise she might hear from someone else and be more upset.
‘You know about Shirley’s accident?’ he began.
‘Of course. I wrote her a letter wishing her a speedy recovery.’
‘I don’t know whether speedy recovery will be possible,’ he said sadly. ‘Imagine her distress, just starting to become successful as a dancer and singer then losing the use of her legs. It’s the most cruel thing.’
‘She’s alive, isn’t she?’ Evelyn said harshly.
‘I know it doesn’t compare with what happened to our Taff, but she is alive and she’s having to live with the fact that she’ll never dance again.’
‘What can we do? She’ll have to face it, live with it, like hundreds of others. After all, she only needs to look around her at the men crippled by war, men with artificial legs, or wearing a jacket with a tied-up, empty sleeve.’
This was definitely not the time to talk to her. Not with the letter about Taff’s death in her hand. Bleddyn stood up and said, ‘Don’t forget where I am, Evelyn love. You’re still my daughter-in-law, Taff’s much-loved wife. I’ll always be glad to see you.’
Folding the letter, Evelyn put it back into its envelope and slipped it into a drawer. Inside, Bleddyn saw a pile of letters – all she had left.
‘Well, I’ll be off. I’ll go to the shop and show Johnny’s letter to Hannah. We always exchange news. I’ll tell her about your letter too. Perhaps one day you’ll let her read it.’
‘Perhaps. I’m glad Johnny is safe,’ Evelyn added. ‘I want him to survive in one piece. I’m not really religious, but I do pray for his safe-keeping, just as I used to do for Taff’s, and Ronnie’s when he was away, and Eynon’s.’
‘Thank you for that, Evelyn love. They need our prayers.’
As he was walking through the door, Evelyn called, ‘Dad – I can still call you Dad, can’t I?’
‘Of course you can! You’ll always be my daughter-in-law. Taff’s wife.’
‘Dad, what was it that you had to tell me?’
‘Oh, nothing important. It’ll wait.’
‘Please. Don’t push me out.’
Bleddyn hesitated a moment, his heavy frame filling the doorway as he made up his mind. Closing the door, he went again to stand beside the table.
‘All right. The situation is this. Shirley will be in a wheelchair for a while when she comes out of hospital. She can’t really go back to the flat above the newsagent.
She’d have to be carried up there and she’d be a prisoner, unable to manage the stairs. Hetty and I are getting married and preparing a home for her in Brook Lane.’
‘I’m glad,’ she surprised him by saying. ‘You need someone to look after. Hetty and Shirley will be a way of helping you cope without Taff, and when Johnny comes home he’ll be glad too.’
The response was so unlike the usually prickly girl that Bleddyn turned and hugged her.
‘Thank you, Evelyn. You don’t know how much I value your approval.’
Just having held the letter telling of Taff’s death, she was afraid of the emptiness that faced her if she didn’t continue to be a part of Bleddyn’s family. She still felt the inexplicable jealousy that had damaged her friendship with others but she forced it aside and smiled. ‘Have you chosen a best man yet?’ she asked brightly. ‘That’s something Taff or Johnny would have liked, but I suppose your brother will be the one.’
‘Well, no,’ Bleddyn said. ‘I don’t intend to tell the family until it’s over. Hetty and I want a quiet ceremony. You, Beth, Ronnie and Bernard Gregory are the only ones to be told, although most people have guessed it was likely.’
‘Bernard will be best man?’
‘Yes, and Ronnie will stand in for Taff and Johnny. Beth will be there for Hetty.’
‘Can I be there?’
He shook his head. ‘Neither you nor Hannah. The more we invite the worse it will be for the others. Do you understand?’
She nodded, and wished him luck as he left her.
* * *
The gift shop was doing good business. Christmas, with the increasing difficulties of finding presents, had brought customers in their dozens. The small shop was packed all day. The problem was getting supplies. Sometimes Eirlys felt she had been without sleep for a week as she worked long into the night getting work finished ready for the following day.
She wasn’t the only one. Hannah worked long hours too and Bleddyn still helped by taking Josie and Marie out whenever he could. They still went to the park during the af
ternoons, not to play but to feed the birds. Twice Bleddyn had seen Lilly there with an older man, to whom he was introduced.
When he mentioned this man to his brother, Huw told him that the man’s son, Sam, seemed to be a serious contender for Lilly’s hand. Lilly was another young woman heading for marriage after a short courtship. ‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure’ was a saying that made people laugh. Old-fashioned and a nonsense. More relevant today, with its undertones of sadness, was ‘Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying. And this same flower that smiles today, tomorrow will be dying.’
* * *
Letters were spasmodic in arriving from those serving in the forces and Shirley’s mother arrived at the hospital one day bringing three letters for her from Freddy Clements, her dancing partner of earlier days. Shirley put them aside until her mother had left, then read them once, twice, three times, irritated by the blue-pencilled lines in which the censor had obliterated something that might conceivably assist the enemy. He was a different Freddy from the selfish, smartly dressed gents’ outfitters salesman she had first known. This new Freddy was serious and, on paper at least, more thoughtful.
She had written to tell him about the accident and explained that her dancing was finished and she might spend a long time in a wheelchair. His response was surprising and short, his only reference to her accident being. ‘Sod the dancing, you don’t need legs to sing! And we can still go to the pictures, can’t we?’
Apart from Janet and her mother, Freddy’s was the first positive reaction she’d had and she laughed at the pithy and brief letter, standing it up on her bedside locker.
* * *
Eynon wrote to Alice and to his parents with an occasional note to his Uncle Bleddyn. In one of these he asked Bleddyn to look out for Alice for him, explaining that Alice’s father was disabled and with an unpredictable temper.