Holidays at Home Omnibus

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

  Ken spent all the following day trying to find out where Janet had been stationed.

  * * *

  Shirley found life bearable once she had settled into her new home. Friends visited often and two regulars were Maude and Myrtle.

  They both entertained her with their observations. They had an amusing slant on life and chatted non-stop about the people they met and described the antics and attitudes of people so she could almost see them. They talked about summer days on the beach and life with Marged and Huw Castle. They had been accepted as members of the family and Shirley was pleased to see that her mother had lost all anger against them and entertained them with ease and pleasure. She was pleased too to see how happy her mother and Bleddyn were.

  If only she hadn’t been injured, had been able to take part in the pantomime and go on to the greater things she knew had been awaiting her, Janet wouldn’t have gone away and life would have been wonderful.

  ‘Damn Joseph Beynon and his jealousy,’ she said aloud.

  * * *

  Beth was happy now she knew Peter wouldn’t have to go abroad any more. He didn’t come home very often but he wrote, long, interesting letters mostly about the past and the future. The present was troublesome and best ignored.

  When he did come home, they treated it like a holiday. Whenever she was free from running the market café they spent a lot of time helping Bernard around his smallholding and in any spare time they walked through icy fields, stopping at a country pub to eat and talk. Beth thought they would never run out of things to say to each other. She didn’t help in the gift shop when he was home; Eirlys and Hannah didn’t expect her to, understanding how precious the time with Peter was to her.

  Peter said nothing about his work and she didn’t ask. She knew he was involved in training men and women to go behind enemy lines; people who risked their lives to help escaped prisoners achieve a home run. Thankfully the training took place at home; he would never again have to face the dangers of working behind enemy lines. She could cope with anything now she knew that he was safe.

  Eleven

  Shirley continued to have letters from Freddy and his support was casual, just the odd reference to her injury and the certainty of her full recovery. She felt better for receiving them and she kept them to read over again. There was no false sympathy; he instinctively knew she had more than enough of that and his letters made her smile as no others did.

  There were letters from Janet too and hers also cheered her. Her introduction to serving the RAF seemed fraught with disasters and her observations on those who served them with snacks and others supplying their daily needs like cigarettes, shaving cream, writing paper, pens and sweets were always amusing.

  There was another side of course. She told her of the boys who didn’t come back and those who came back badly injured. These incidents obviously distressed her but after the shock and pain she suffered at the beginning, with the need to tell Shirley of her tormented dreams, she described these tragedies briefly, not dwelling on the cruel waste of young lives. The simple words and brief sentences she used were enough to portray the horror of life and death at an RAF station.

  Later, Janet told her she had applied to serve overseas, which meant she would be wearing the uniform of the ATS Expeditionary Forces Institute and would have to undergo some intensive training. Shirley envied her. Danger aside, it was better than sitting in a wheelchair day after day.

  Shirley spoke pessimistically of her mode of transport but, although the wheelchair was still essential, she was learning to stand and to walk around the furniture. She told no one except her mother and Bleddyn, who encouraged her proudly.

  ‘Like a baby again,’ she said to Hetty as she boasted of her success at walking a few steps with first the crutches then a stick.

  * * *

  Lilly Castle and her baby no longer went to the park. The weather that January had been very cold, with ice on the roads and snow settling and building up into dirty, misshapen mounds that marked the edges of the pavements for days on end. She had occasional letters from Sam, but he was not a good correspondent and she called one day to see his father in the hope of news.

  Mr Edwards welcomed her enthusiastically and when she went inside, dragged the pram into the hallway. She took out her most recent letter to show him. It wasn’t very long, just a few words along the lines of ‘I’m well and I hope you are’. Mr Edwards smiled and handed it back.

  ‘Not the best reporter, my Sam,’ he said sadly, ‘but he obviously wants to keep in touch. I’m sure he values your letters very much.’

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s much he can say,’ Lilly excused. ‘What they do say is sometimes pencilled out. I tell him about little Phyllis and about my brothers and sister. Plenty to tell, although I doubt if he’s really interested, mind.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Mr Edwards coaxed. ‘I am interested. Your sister is married and helping to run a gift shop. Is that right?’

  Lilly sat in the kitchen while Sam Edwards prepared a tray of tea and some biscuits. She noticed how competent he was as he attended to the simple tasks. He had been a widower for several years and had obviously taught himself the necessary skills needed to run the house.

  She knew he worked in the food and supplies stores used by army personnel, keeping note of what was in stock and which items needed to be replenished. The hours were sometimes long and, he had told her, the work tedious. All that was needed was an orderly approach. Running the house and dealing with a garden filled with vegetables besides must have kept him very busy, yet whenever she called, the house was neat and orderly. Just the sort of husband l’d like, she thought with a smile. She hoped Sam Two, as she referred to his son, had inherited his father’s talents.

  When Sam came on leave at the end of January, he invited her to spend the evening with him.

  ‘Dad will cook for us and we can play cards after if you like.’

  ‘Wonderful.’ Lilly replied, wondering how she could get out of the boring card games. She had enough of those at home when her mother invited friends in. Card games needed concentration which she lacked. ‘What about the pictures?’ she suggested. ‘Your dad doesn’t go out much, I bet he’d enjoy it.’

  ‘But we couldn’t take Phyllis.’ The disappointment on Sam Two’s face was almost comical.

  ‘Oh no.’ Lilly tried to share his dismay. ‘But we could take her out tomorrow?’

  ‘Pictures it is.’ He smiled. ‘You, me and Dad.’

  * * *

  Joseph still visited Shirley when he could. He usually waited until Hetty and Bleddyn were likely to be out, working out the evenings when they would be at the chip shop until past ten o’clock. He would knock on the door and when Shirley called, he would go in before she realised who it was and could tell him to go away.

  The door was never locked. Shirley was unable to move fast enough to answer a knock so it was impossible for her to stop him walking in. He never stayed long, just asked how she was getting on and warned her about doing too much.

  ‘I walked right across the room with only a stick yesterday,’ she told him on one occasion.

  ‘You shouldn’t do that. It’s too soon,’ he exclaimed. ‘You should still be in the wheelchair. Why don’t you let me take you out? We could walk around the shops and even go to the park if you dress up warm. If there’s anyone you want to visit we could do that too. It would be refreshing to get out and talk to people and you wouldn’t be so anxious to do more than you should.’

  ‘You don’t want me to get out of this chair, do you? You want me stuck here, dependent on you. Well, sony, Joseph Beynon! But it isn’t going to happen. Now go away, I need to do my exercises!’

  Joseph left but he was smiling. He had loved her since he had first seen her and his love for her was a jealous love, he admitted it. She was beautiful and he wanted that beauty to be for him alone; he had to keep her away from the admiring glances of other men. She belonged to him and, one day, his patience would be r
ewarded.

  While Shirley was disabled she couldn’t think of singing, and dancing was no longer a possibility. He was determined to make her accept the curtailing of her ambitions. Then, when she was mobile again, he would persuade her to marry him. The injury was far less serious than he had first thought and having a wife who had to spend a lot of time at home would suit him perfectly. He would love her and care for her and she would want nothing more, and neither would he, he thought happily. With Shirley as his wife, life would be just perfect.

  Until then, his mother would continue to look after him perfectly well. He was preparing for the time when she was no longer able to. Then Shirley would care for them all.

  At the beginning of February, his plans were cruelly disrupted. Mrs Beynon woke one morning and when she tried to get out of bed a pain across her chest stopped her. She called Joseph who ran to the telephone box and asked the doctor to call. An hour later he was told that his mother had suffered a heart attack.

  * * *

  Eirlys had more time on her hands now the winter had closed down so many aspects of her work. Plans were going ahead for the entertainments during the following summer but there was nothing urgent about the preparations. Ken was still away for much of the time and when he was home they were uneasy with each other, more like strangers than they had ever been, in spite of the months of marriage.

  She remembered the casual friendship they had enjoyed and wondered how it had been lost. Surely marriage should lead to greater closeness, not this feeling of being trapped with a guest who had outstayed his welcome? She tried to take an interest in what he was doing as she once had, coaxing him to tell her about the concerts they were giving, and the audience’s reaction to his songs.

  ‘I don’t write songs like Max did,’ he told her one day. ‘I try, but he was inspired.’

  ‘Perhaps being in love with Janet had something to do with it. Emotion can’t be turned on and off, can it?’ She looked at him as she spoke, wondering if his love for her had died and whether it would ever be revived.

  Perhaps he guessed her thoughts or maybe he needed reassurance himself because he turned and put his arms around her and kissed her with greater passion than usual. ‘I love you, Eirlys, and if loving someone was the key, I’d win every award in the business.’

  For a while she basked in the joy of his words.

  She was still making rugs and wall-hangings and more recently embroidered pictures from the wool they had in stock. Her father framed them and they sold moderately well, with the never-ending demand for wedding gifts. The stream of hasty marriages continued unabated and it seemed that every day there was at least one happy couple among their acquaintances who were celebrating their union.

  * * *

  Marged and Huw Castle wondered if their daughter Lilly might have found her future husband. At twenty-eight she was approaching the age at which marriage was unlikely. They knew Lilly wrote regularly to Sam and also spent a lot of time visiting his father. ‘It looks hopeful,’ Marged said to Huw, more than once.

  When Hetty and Bleddyn called one Sunday afternoon, they shared news of the family as they always did, discussing any letters that had been received from Johnny or Eynon and the activities of the other members of the family.

  ‘That Sam who Lilly’s going about with seems a nice enough young bloke,’ Bleddyn said, referring to a day when Lilly and Phyllis had brought the young man to meet her uncle and step-aunt Hetty. ‘He seems very fond of the baby too. D’you think Lilly might have found someone special?’

  ‘We wonder that too,’ Marged replied, glancing at Huw.

  ‘I only hope he’s hard-working, because if he marries our Lilly he won’t get much work out of her!’ Huw said with a grim smile. ‘I don’t know who she takes after; she’s a damn sight cleverer than the rest of us. I’ve never known anyone so nifty at avoiding work as our Lilly.’

  ‘If this Sam is as besotted as he seems, then I don’t think she’ll have much trouble persuading him she needs looking after and spoiling,’ Hetty smiled. ‘Why not? Good luck to her.’

  At the kitchen door, Lilly listened and smiled.

  * * *

  Shirley wasn’t feeling well. She had woken with a heavy feeling in her chest and when she coughed it hurt. She lay back on her pillows and tried to sleep. Both Hetty and Bleddyn were out. They had risen early to go to the wholesalers for fish, an occasional visit to check their regular order and to see what was available. They intended to go into Cardiff later and Shirley would be on her own until lunchtime.

  She found herself thinking about Joseph. He hadn’t called for several days and although part of her hoped her continuous requests for him to stay away had worked, this was one day when she would have been glad to see him. She needed a doctor and there was no way of calling him.

  She managed to sit up and between bouts of tiredness she wrote to Janet. It was a sad letter, telling her she was unwell and that her chest was painful, and it probably meant she wouldn’t sing again.

  Joseph called an hour later and contacted the doctor.

  ‘It’s probably pneumonia,’ he told her as they waited, adding, ‘Don’t worry, it’s probably because of the time you’re spending in the house. If you’d listened to me and got some fresh air, you might have avoided this.’

  ‘I don’t like people seeing me like this,’ she protested, gesturing towards her leg with a wave of her hand.

  ‘You should have listened to me.’ he repeated, patting her hand affectionately. ‘I know what’s best for you and one day you’ll realise it.’

  ‘Will it affect my singing?’ She needed reassurance but Joseph gave her none.

  ‘Try not to think about that now,’ was all he said, but with implications of doubt in his voice. He sat and held her hand. He said nothing about his mother’s illness. ‘Dogged by illness. It seems to be my fate, caring for the ones I love, dealing with their ill health. But I don’t mind. Shirley. I’ll care for you as I cared for Dolly, with love and devotion.’

  Her already low spirits deepened with every word.

  The doctor had just arrived when Hetty and Bleddyn returned.

  ‘Joseph thinks it’s pneumonia and I’ll lose the power of my voice.’ she said to Hetty. At once Hetty asked Joseph to leave, thanking him briskly for his help.

  She took Shirley’s hand and said to the doctor, ‘Now, will you tell us how she is, Doctor? I’m sure she’s making good progress, isn’t she?’

  Taking on the cheerful tone she presented, the doctor smiled. ‘She looks very well to me and the reports I have from the hospital are all encouraging, Mrs Castle.’ He took out his stethoscope and a few minutes later said, ‘I think you have a heavy cold and there’s some infection in the chest, but it isn’t anything like pneumonia and we’ll make sure it doesn’t get any worse.’

  A more cheerful Shirley listened to Hetty warning her about Joseph’s determination to undermine her confidence. ‘It wasn’t just the dancing and singing he tried to stop. He wants you dependent on him so much, that he wants you to consider yourself an invalid,’ she said grimly.

  ‘He won’t come here again,’ Bleddyn said warningly. ‘I’ll see him and make sure of that.’

  ‘I wrote a miserable letter to Janet. I don’t think I’ll send it,’ Shirley said.

  ‘Too late,’ Bleddyn told her. ‘That Joseph took it when he left. Why not write another one to tell her you don’t feel as though you’re at death’s door now old joyless Joseph has gone?’

  ‘He really is best avoided, Shirley love,’ Hetty warned, and Shirley agreed.

  ‘I have to work harder and get out of this room as soon as possible.’

  ‘And get back to your singing lessons as soon as you’re able,’ Bleddyn added.

  That evening, with the medicine the doctor had prescribed already taking its effect if only psychologically – she wrote to Freddy, telling him about Joseph’s attitude and her weakness in allowing it to affect her. Putting it into words helped
and she promised herself she would write a similar letter to Janet very soon.

  * * *

  Joseph’s mother didn’t go into hospital. With the help of neighbours she continued to look after Joseph and he was hardly aware of any change. His meals were ready when he went home after work and his washing and ironing were dealt with without any apparent problems. She didn’t ask for his help, except for dealing with the fire, carrying in the coal and making sure the fire was lit before he left for work each day. Thinking it better not to worry her by making her fear she was unable to manage, he didn’t offer further help.

  Gradually, as the days passed and she seemed to be back to normal, he forgot the fright and pushed it to the back of his mind. Shirley filled his thoughts through the day and his dreams at night. Her accident had been tragic but perhaps it had been a benefit too, he reasoned. Once he could persuade her that her career prospects were gone for ever, she would see how foolish she had been to expect it. With Janet away and Ken busy with his concert tours, there was no longer anyone to encourage her.

  Filled with buoyant hope he called on Shirley, When she answered the door, standing with the support of a walking stick, he smiled and stepped forward. He managed to step back just fast enough to avoid the slamming door.

  * * *

  Unlike Joseph, Lilly’s romance seemed to be making excellent progress. When Sam was on leave they went out in a threesome, or four if Phyllis was included. When Sam was away she spent a lot of time with his father, making herself at home in the neat little terrace house, listening to the wireless or reading the magazines Mr Edwards bought for her.

  Phyllis would be put down on a warm blanket to play and it was Mr Edwards who spent the most time with her, enjoying the small measures of progress as the child gurgled happily and struggled through the various stages of mobility, ‘walking’ when held, pulling herself up and walking around holding on to the furniture, strengthening her muscles ready for her first unaided steps.