Holidays at Home Omnibus

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

  * * *

  Eirlys wondered how much Lilly had told her parents. She and Ken had been surprised and when she had looked at Marged and Huw, they seemed to be as shocked as the rest of them. They recovered quickly but she thought the whole thing had been an unkind surprise to them all.

  As they walked home, she thought Ken was still unusually quiet. Glancing at him she saw he was frowning deeply.

  ‘Why the glum face, love? Is anything wrong?’ she asked, stopping and turning to face him. ‘Perhaps I can tell you something to make you smile.’

  ‘There is something I have to tell you,’ he began.

  She put a hand over his mouth playfully and said, ‘Let me tell you something first. Something that will take away your sad expression.’

  He gently pulled away her hand and protested, ‘No, let me talk first.’

  ‘Ken, I can’t wait another moment. Darling, you’re going to be a father!’

  He pulled her to him, trying to hide the shock of the unbelievable words. In the letter from Janet, crumpled and hidden in a pocket, she had just told him the same thing.

  Eirlys was unaware of Ken’s dismay and the following day she went to see Beth to tell her the news.

  ‘Peter and I want to wait until the war’s over before we start having children,’ Beth said after congratulating her. ‘It’s been going on for two and a half years, it can’t last much longer, can it?’

  ‘At least Peter is safe now.’ Eirlys smiled. ‘Thank goodness he won’t have to go abroad again. That must have been very frightening for you as well as him.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a relief. I just hope we hear good news about Eynon soon. Mam and Dad look quite ill and I know they aren’t sleeping.’

  ‘The thing is, Beth, although I’m thrilled to be expecting a baby, I want to go on working. Is that very terrible? Ken’s work is hardly well paid and we won’t be able to manage on the little he earns.’

  ‘He won’t carry on with a concert party after the war, surely?’

  ‘I think he hopes to make a career in the music business. Song writing and some performing. Like Shirley and Janet, but with different talents.’

  ‘Shirley’s voice is wonderful. I hope she recovers from the accident and gets back to her career,’ Beth said. ‘I think she lost confidence for a while.’

  ‘Janet going away didn’t help. I wonder why she left so suddenly?’ Eirlys mused.

  ‘She knew she’d have to do some war work, and made a move while she still had a choice. Pity though. Shirley could have done with her being around these past weeks.’

  Eirlys reached home that Sunday to see a police car outside and two policemen standing at the front door. Her father was opening it as she ran down the path and she followed them in demanding to know what had happened. She was frightened: they might have found out who was responsible for the robberies her father had carried out with the evacuee, Stanley, after all this time. A glance at their faces reassured her.

  Offering them tea, she waited to be told the reason for their visit.

  ‘You had three evacuees,’ the constable said. ‘Stanley Love and his brothers Harold and Percival. Right?’

  ‘Yes. Are they all right?’ Morgan asked anxiously.

  ‘Poor little fellers, they’ve lost their mother.’ He glanced at Eirlys, as though not wanting to talk while she was there.

  ‘We’ll have that tea now please, Mrs Ward,’ the sergeant said politely but pointedly.

  ‘Not until I know what’s happened to the boys,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Well, it seems,’ he began hesitantly, ‘that their mother was in the habit of going out at night and leaving them alone. Only young she was, poor girl. Probably liked a drink and a bit of company. You know how it is.’ He was still eyeing Eirlys, hoping she would leave them. ‘Well, it seems that she was in a bombed-out building – er – probably sheltering from an air raid or the rain or something. And, well, it seems that the building collapsed and killed her and – er, some man who happened to be sheltering with her.’

  Eirlys moved to her father and held him as the sergeant went on. ‘The boys were taken into care, together with others who had been orphaned by the bombing but they insist that they live here, in St David’s Well, and gave your name and address, sir.’

  ‘Our address you say? What could they mean?’ Eirlys said, teasing her father in her delight. ‘Well, they’re right. They came as evacuees and lived with us until their mother took them away. Twice she did it, mind! But we’d be happy to have them back, wouldn’t we, Dadda?’

  ‘I’ve missed them so much,’ Morgan said, unashamedly tearful.

  * * *

  Janet waited anxiously for a reply from Ken. Telling him she was going to have his child had been a difficult letter to write, but she felt he ought to know, even though the decision about how she dealt with it was her own.

  She was fortunate that the morning sickness that was usually such a nuisance in early pregnancy didn’t happen. The only sign was the constant visits to the lavatory and the loss of the monthly ‘curse’. At this moment she wouldn’t regard it as a curse, more a welcome visitor.

  She hadn’t been at the camp long enough to make any strong bonds, but being away from home for the first time the girls were very friendly and the closeness that might have taken months was already growing. Sharing the living accommodation created an intimacy as nothing else had, and helping one another, going out as a group during their free time, had all added to the camaraderie and encouraged trust. The ability to share confidences, particularly about their love life, was an essential part of it. Because of this, when her friend Elen, who was also from Wales, asked her what was wrong. Janet told her.

  ‘What will you do? You’ll have to leave the moment they find out.’

  ‘I can’t make a decision until I’ve heard from Ken,’ Janet told her.

  ‘But you have your medical for working overseas in a month. You don’t have time to wait for a letter that might not come.’

  ‘I can’t do anything until Ken knows and tells me what he wants me to do.’

  ‘Call me cynical if you like, but he’s got a wife, hasn’t he? His loyalty will be with her.’

  ‘You don’t know Ken.’

  ‘I know men! When it comes to the nitty-gritty of life, they take the safe option, believe me.’

  ‘I know he loves me.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right, but what’s that got to do with anything? He’ll stay with his wife and pretend this never happened.’

  The letter arrived, and Ken told her that much as he loved her he couldn’t help her. The circumstances were just too complicated and would be too distressing for Eirlys. He filled a page with reasons but to Janet they were nothing more than cowardly excuses. He was unable to face the responsibilities of what had happened. Janet read it twice then showed it to Elen.

  ‘Sorry, Janet. I really am. I was right, but don’t think I get any pleasure from that. I would prefer to have been wrong. I just wanted to stop you expecting roses, roses all the way. Life isn’t like that.’

  She held Janet while she cried, then added, ‘It happened to me. That’s why I’m so cynical.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Said goodbye to the man and to the baby.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘There are ways, if you’re determined. There’s this woman in our village. Years ago she’d have been burnt as a gwrach – the wise woman, or witch. But she’s helped a lot of women avoid a baby they can’t afford, for various reasons.’

  ‘What does she do?’

  ‘Gives you a dose of this stuff, gin, and herbs like penny royal and others. Boils it till it’s a reduced to couple of tablespoonsful and makes you swallow it.’

  ‘Dangerous, is it?’

  ‘I suppose so. I felt quite ill for about a week. But if you’re desperate—’

  * * *

  Ken read and reread Janet’s letter in which she had told him about the child. She told him she expe
cted nothing, that the mistake was as much hers as his and she didn’t want to force him to leave Eirlys, whom she considered a friend.

  She was unaware of the fact that Eirlys too was going to have a child. Perhaps she wouldn’t have told him if she had known. Janet loved him for what he was and would have done what was best for him. She didn’t want to change him as he suspected Eirlys would, once the realisation of an irregular wage began to be a problem.

  Now he’d been told that the house would be filled to overflowing with the three boys from London coming once more to stay.

  He felt obligated to Eirlys, whom he had married, but in his heart he wanted Janet. She would have been a partner for the whole of their life together, sharing a love of music, and giving him the support he needed to continue with his career once the war was over. With Janet he could have taken chances, gone all out for the career he wanted. Even with a child they would have persevered and chased success.

  Marrying Eirlys had been a stupid mistake and he felt a cheat, a confidence trickster like the spivs in the big cities selling unsatisfactory goods. He’d married her under false pretences, telling her he loved her when he knew that his feelings for Janet were stronger.

  He wrote again to Janet, begging her to ignore his previous letter, telling her it had been written before he’d thought about it properly. He told her lovingly he had changed his mind, and as soon as she wrote telling him she would agree, he would tell Eirlys about them and ask for a divorce. To convince her of his decision, he wrote a second and a third letter, reaffirming his promise.

  * * *

  Once she had made up her mind, Janet didn’t delay. On their next day off she went with her new friend to see the lady who promised an end to her problem. The woman who opened the door to them was smartly dressed and quite young, probably no more than thirty. She certainly wasn’t the ancient crone Janet had expected to see. When she reached camp that evening, she went straight to bed, and in the morning reported sick. She hinted that she’d had too much to drink the previous evening and, threatened with a cut in her wages, was left to sleep it off.

  The letter from Ken in which he told her he had changed his mind and wanted to leave Eirlys, and live with her and their child, she didn’t read until much much too late.

  * * *

  The Castle family had further news of Eynon a few days after the unfortunate wedding. He was a prisoner in a German camp. Huw said they could relax, holding on to the hope that for the rest of the war he would at least be safe. ‘Unless he tries to escape,’ Peter warned Beth when she told him. ‘Many men just can’t cope with being locked up and I think your Eynon might be one of them. On the run for months then imprisoned by the army, he’d find it hard to accept locked doors, but for his sake I hope he does.’

  ‘Can’t you find out?’ she pleaded. ‘Mam and Dad are sick with worry.’

  ‘So are thousands of other parents. No, love, we have to sit and wait; the hardest part of the battle, some say.’

  A week later, two men succeeded in making a home run and from these Peter learned about Eynon, but it was news he didn’t pass on to Beth.

  Eynon had been one of a small group to walk out of the camp wearing German uniforms and carrying the relevant forms, but he had been picked up only hours after he had passed through the gates. He had been beaten, his arm was broken and he had been placed in solitary confinement. It was while he was being taken to hospital to have his ann treated that he escaped again. At present, all that was known was that he was in a small village somewhere in occupied France. Peter decided that once there was more definite news, he would go and bring him out. Something else he didn’t tell Beth.

  * * *

  Shirley was getting stronger and when she was asked to sing at a small party to celebrate an ATS girl’s twenty-first birthday, Hetty and Bleddyn persuaded her to accept.

  Joseph called a few days later when Hetty and Bleddyn were out.

  ‘What’s this about you singing at a birthday party for a lot of soldiers?’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with you.’

  ‘How can you say that? I love you, I want to marry you, look after you until you’re fit and well.’

  ‘I don’t want to hear this. Please, Joseph, go away.’

  ‘How can you be so stupid? You aren’t strong enough. You shouldn’t put such a strain on yourself. This will set you back weeks, and you won’t have the voice you once had. Not any more. Not after sitting about for all this time, and the bronchitis. You’re finished as an entertainer. Why won’t you accept what I say?’

  Shirley raised her walking stick threateningly and told him to leave, but his words had done their damage. When the moment came for her to sing in front of a crowd mostly in uniform, and accompanied at the piano by a friend of the birthday girl – who didn’t play all that well – she lost her nerve.

  Her voice, usually so strong and sure, came out tremulously and she faltered and left the stage. The pianist continued to play and gradually the crowd joined in and the impromptu sing-song ended the evening happily.

  For Shirley the evening ended differently. She went out on two sticks and waited at the door of the small hall for the taxi she had ordered for an hour’s time. A figure loomed out of the darkness and Joseph said. ‘Shall I phone for a taxi?’

  ‘No, Joseph, I don’t want you anywhere near me. I’ve ordered a taxi and when it comes I’ll go home alone!’

  ‘But you need me.’

  ‘Keep away from me, d’you hear? Or I’ll talk to the police.’ The stick was raised and this time she brought it down not more than inches away from his head.

  She wrote to Freddy and told him exactly what had happened, and as before, his reply was far from sympathetic.

  My dear, dear girl.

  I reckon that was a good thing, you drying up at that party. You can see now what an idiot you are to let someone like Joseph affect your plans. Now you’ll be strong and never let it happen ever again. Wait till I get home and I’ll kick his ‘whatsit’ so hard he’ll find himself in Somerset. Until then, book a proper concert and sing for yourself, not anyone else, just yourself, and you’ll be a wow. I can’t wait for the day when I’ll be there cheering you on.

  Good luck. God bless, your loving friend. Freddy

  A few days later she wrote to Ken and asked him to arrange for her to take part in a concert when there was one planned in the town. Freddy was right; she had to take responsibility for herself. Joseph had damaged her confidence but she had to accept that she had allowed it to happen. Facing that as Freddy had intended, she determined never to let it happen again.

  * * *

  The shop opened by Eirlys and Hannah to sell handcrafted gifts continued to be busy, although since the frantic rush at Christmas time, it had slowed down to a steady trickle of business that Hannah could cope with easily on her own.

  Bleddyn had bought a treadle sewing machine and delivered it to the shop and it was there Hannah did most of her dressmaking. When she wasn’t making clothes – usually from other unpicked ones – she made smaller things to sell. ‘Make Do and Mend,’ the posters told people and that applied particularly to clothes. Large jumpers were sewn into smaller ones, coats became trousers and jackets for children, men’s trousers became skirts. Unpicking seams and pressing the material took time, and the use was limited by the odd shapes, but it meant inexpensive garments could be made and sold without using the precious clothing coupons.

  Hetty and Bleddyn looked after Josie and Marie after school and usually brought them to meet Hannah at five thirty when the shop closed. There was usually a meal waiting for her and she had never felt so cared for or so loved. She still contacted her parents but there had not been any softening in their resolve to treat her like a wicked and ungodly woman.

  One evening, when rain had shortened the day and made the afternoon gloomy, she was sewing sequins on a dance dress. It had originally been made for someone much larger than Shirley Downs but now the long skirt and the sim
ple top, decorated with sparkling sequins in deep-forest green, would make an elegant gown for her return to the stage. Hannah had managed to find some specialist wadding that she had sewn inside the hem to make it stand out at the bottom, emphasising Shirley’s wonderful figure.

  When the door opened and a customer walked in, she didn’t look up, but continued to concentrate on the small needle coming up in exactly the right place for the next sequin.

  ‘Still busy I see,’ her mother said quietly.

  Jumping up, Hannah went forward to greet her mother but hesitated. Her mother didn’t like outward displays of affection, and besides, as she had hardly spoken to her since her marriage to Johnny Castle, she probably wouldn’t consider the slightest show of emotion appropriate.

  ‘Yes,’ she said after a pause. ‘I’m still busy and loving it. The variety means there aren’t two days alike and it’s fun dealing with the customers, helping them with a new garment from old, or choosing a suitable gift.’

  ‘The girls, they’re well?’

  ‘Why don’t you come and see them?’ Hannah asked softly. ‘They often ask about you.’

  ‘Do they?’ Her mother seemed surprised.

  ‘I’ve told you often enough. And they’ve written to you and sent birthday and Christmas cards.’

  ‘It isn’t easy—’

  ‘Oh but it is, Mum. All you have to do is come to Brook Lane and walk in. You and Dad would be welcome.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  As she turned to go, Hannah said, ‘Mum, it’s my birthday soon. Why don’t you bring Dad? Perhaps you can make us a cake.’

  ‘You don’t have to remind me when your birthday is!’ The harsh tone was back and Hannah instinctively stepped back.

  ‘It would be nice to share it with you, like when I was a child.’