Tapping her feet, Shirley sang ‘Mountain Greenery‘, and the mood changed. She softened it again with a rendering of ‘I Get Along Without You Very Well’, which filled Maldwyn with melancholy emotion. He left, to walk the streets, berating himself for being a fool. He had to accept that Vera thought nothing more of him than someone who was available when there was no one better. He passed the hall again as the crowd inside were singing the national anthem and he hurried home, unable to bear seeing Vera come out on the arm of her soldier.
But Vera didn’t walk home with her soldier. She left the hall just before the last waltz was played.
* * *
Eirlys was light-hearted. The police had not returned and Ken was more affectionate, even loving. They had talked about the baby they were expecting in a few weeks and he had assured her he was as excited as she. He came home twice that week, told her exactly where he would be between visits and even gave her telephone numbers in case she had to call him. ‘I know it’s too early, but I want to know if you’re worried, even if it’s only a slight twinge of anxiety.’ He even promised to delegate his Saturday plans and come with her to the moonlight dancing, even though she would only be a spectator.
The weather had turned chilly, and girls who had been excitedly looking forward to showing off their summer dresses for probably the last time were disappointed. Hand-knitted angora-wool boleros were popular and had been in use for several years. Many searched for them in drawers or borrowed from friends, adding them to a dress and hoping the dancing would keep them warm.
No one wore stockings. With clothing coupons being far from generous they couldn’t afford to buy them. Instead they bought packets of ‘liquid stockings’, a powder which was mixed to a paste and spread with a sponge over the legs. Some were lucky enough to have a friend who would draw a seam for them and a block on the heel to make them look more realistic.
Maldwyn looked at Vera sadly. She had dressed in the outfit she had worn to the previous Saturday dance, which revealed too many of her charms.
‘Won’t you be cold?’ he asked stupidly. ‘It’s being held out of doors, remember.’
‘If you think I’m covering this with a cardigan you’re mistaken. Honestly, Maldwyn, you sound like my grandmother sometimes.’ She straightened up to show him the blouse she had so carefully remodelled to show the titillating glimpses of her shapely figure. ‘Don’t you think I look nice?’
He didn’t reply.
Fortunately the night was clear and the moon shone across the water like a golden path. Musicians who played by ear, without the need for music, had gathered and formed a small band. Everyone who came was determined that this final occasion would be fun, and at once the mood was set.
Half the town seemed to be there, the dancers spreading along the prom and even on to the sand below. Even Mrs Chapel came for a while, before the cold persuaded her back to her flat and the warm fire. Bernard Gregory came on his horse and cart, bringing Beth and promising to come back for her later. He sat beside Mrs Chapel and they watched as the lively couples danced. ‘Pity we aren’t a few years younger, eh?’ he said, tilting his hat with its notebook tucked into the lining band, something he always carried. ‘I’ve got some nice holly in the field: want to place an order for Christmas, Mrs Chapel?’
‘A bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you?’ As he took out his notebook and a stubby pencil, she laughed. ‘Go on then, put me down for what you’ve got, although I bet young Maldwyn will be walking along the lanes getting some for free. A bit of holly and ivy will be the only things we’ll be able to rely on for tradition this Christmas, and that’s for sure.’
‘There’ll be a few chickens and a rabbit or two. We’ll celebrate with over-eating as usual, you see if we don’t, even if it means there’s nothing left in store.’
‘D’you know, even now, with the shortage of so many foodstuffs, there’s many a pantry where a few special tins are still hidden. Salmon, a bit of tinned fruit, a tin of cream, hiding there for when the boys come back. Never tempted to use it — birthdays, Christmases and even weddings, there it stays, waiting for the biggest celebration of them all, when this awful war ends and the boys come home.’
‘What a party that’ll be, eh? We might even join in the dancing ourselves that day, Mrs Chapel.’
Eirlys was too weary to enjoy dancing, but she found a place to sit, with a blanket around her knees and Ken’s jacket around her shoulders for warmth, and watched the participants having a happy time. The musicians responded to requests; once or twice one started in a different key from the rest, but no one cared, or even noticed.
Madge was encouraged on to the floor by Constable Charlie Groves, who, after shuffling around the crowded area for three dances and sitting one out, shyly asked if he might walk her back to her hotel.
‘Hotel?’ she laughed, ‘Nothing so grand. We’re staying with a neighbour of Mr and Mrs Castle in Sidney Street.’
‘Then I’ll see you safely back there.’
She was about to refuse, but thought that with Delyth and Maldwyn, and probably Vera, it would do no harm. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I’d like that.’
When Ken left Eirlys and asked Delyth to dance she almost ran away. But he took her arm gently and waltzed her around the very edge of the dancers, smiling as he passed his wife before saying. ‘Delyth, I want to apologise. I’m ashamed of the stupid way I behaved. I love my wife and the brief friendship with another woman was a terrible mistake. I’m not a violent person and it was only fear of Eirlys being upset, her expecting our child, that caused me to panic. I really am ashamed and very sorry.’
Doubtful at first and still nervous of him, Delyth allowed herself to be reassured. She smiled as they passed Eirlys for the second time and when the music stopped she found herself standing next to her.
‘Everyone’s talking about you, Eirlys,’ she said, leaning to make herself heard over the conversations and the laughter as the band began another number. ‘Everyone’s saying how marvellous you are to have arranged all these events. You must work very hard.’
‘Not any more.’ Eirlys said. ‘I’ve retired, at least for the time being.’
‘You must be very proud of her,’ she said to Ken, and Ken took his wife’s hand, kissed it and said he was.
Maldwyn watched Vera, in the hope of managing at least one dance. She seemed determined to avoid him, taking a partner from the willing group surrounding her before he could reach her. He heard complaints about her uttered, the tarty way she was dressed, the way she pushed herself forward when she chose a partner. There was the usual shortage of men and she seemed to be taking more than her fair share.
As Delyth moved away from Ken and Eirlys, she touched his arm. ‘Will I do instead, Maldwyn?’
‘Oh, what do I say to that? You make it sound as though I’d consider you second-best.’
‘Just dance,’ she laughed, sliding with ease into his arms.
‘Eirlys, you look happy.’ Hannah said as she sat beside her. ‘Is it because you’ve finished work at last?’
‘Partly. I was getting very tired. But Ken has told me everything. It’s all out in the open, and we’re closer than we’ve been for a long time.’
‘Really? I’m glad, and I think it’s very brave and sensible of you to forget and start again. Life’s too short to hold on to anger.’
‘Hardly anger,’ Eirys laughed.
‘You aren’t angry? Then you’re a saint. If I heard that Johnny had been with someone like Janet Copp I’d break my heart.’
‘Someone like—? What d’you mean?’
Hannah stared at her, begging for the words to come that would take away those she had just spoken. Obviously Ken hadn’t told her everything. ‘Sorry, Eirlys, I wasn’t listening properly. Weren’t you talking about the man from the shoe mender’s who’s been keeping his affair a secret for three years?’
‘No,’ Eirlys said slowly, ‘I was talking about me and Ken, as you well know. You might as well tell m
e everything. I’ll find out anyway, and it’s better that you tell me. Come on,’ she said as Hannah hesitated, the shock of her thoughtless remark clear on her gentle face. ‘I need to know.’
‘I know nothing about it. I just heard that he was suspected of being involved with some black-market food then was found to be innocent. He tried to keep it from you in case you worried. What else is there to know?’ She pointed out the three boys, Stanley, Harold and little Percival, running through the dancers and being chased by Eirlys’s father, in the hope of distracting her. Eirlys said no more but Hannah knew the damage had been done.
When the last waltz was being played, Maldwyn looked in vain for Vera. It was implicit in his invitation and her acceptance that they would walk home together. She seemed to have disappeared. Instead, he invited Delyth to dance at the same moment as Charlie Groves came for Madge.
The musicians packed away their instruments and a few people began to disperse, but suddenly someone began to sing and dance the ‘Lambeth Walk’, and at once the exodus stopped. Afterwards someone began to sing ‘I’ll See You in My Dreams’, and almost immediately couples and groups of friends found places to sit, leaning on the sea wall or the shops or against each other, and the crowd settled for a sing-song that went on for another hour.
Charlie Groves told Madge where he lived and asked whether he could write to her. She shook her head. ‘Perhaps in a while, when I’ve sorted things out in my head,’ she said apologetically.
Eirlys didn’t wait to find Ken. As soon as the strains of the last waltz faded away she joined her father and the three boys and hurried home. When her father asked about Ken, she told him he had other things to do, and refused to explain.
Hand in hand, Madge, Delyth, Charlie and Maldwyn walked along the road, laughing as they remembered some of the events of the evening. Maldwyn forced gaiety into his voice and they sang their favourites, silenced to spluttering laughter when a bedroom window opened and a voice called for them to respect the Sabbath and shut their row. ‘Half an hour to go yet,’ Charlie shouted and they ran like foolish children, making their way through the dark and empty streets.
Maldwyn tried to put Vera from his mind and was relieved when Mrs Denver, who had waited up to make him a hot drink, told him she was already in bed. ‘I tried to find her and bring her home but she was nowhere to be seen,’ he protested when Mrs Denver accused him of not looking after her.
‘Well, she’s safe enough and fast asleep by now. No harm done.’
He knocked softly on her door as he went to bed but there was no reply. In her room the bed was neatly made up, and empty. The window was partly open and outside it a tree gave precarious access to the ground.
The soldier with whom she had danced so many times that evening had walked her home. He hoped for a few minutes of kisses but was disappointed. As soon as they had arrived at Mrs Denver’s house she had thanked him, said good-night and gone inside. A few minutes of Mrs Denver’s fussing and being persuaded to drink some hot cocoa and she made her excuses and went to bed. Turning the key in her bedroom door, she had made her escape and hurried to where another young man was waiting. His kisses were passionate and she responded with joy, the secrecy of their intimate association an added piquancy to the time they spent together.
Whether it was the excitement of the dance, or anticipation of the meeting, or the tension of climbing out of her bedroom window so late at night, which was something she hadn’t done before, or whether her feelings for the man had changed from a bit of fun to the moment when another stage of their relationship had been reached, she later couldn’t be sure. But she found herself wanting him desperately, her body crying out for him. Their kisses became urgent and impatient. He pressed her against him, the sensation bringing an abandonment of common sense, blotting out the oft-repeated warnings. Thinking only of the moment, desire growing to an almost painful degree, she allowed herself to be led to a place where they could lie down and succumb to their need of each other.
It was a couple of hours later, as she was climbing back up the convenient tree and slipping in through the window, absolutely exhausted, that fear returned. What had she done? This was one of her father’s worst fears, that one of his daughters would ‘give in’ to a man; yet the sensations left her in a haze of contentment. Worries were for another day. Now she could relax and relive the blissful joy of love. Fear of her father’s anger drifted quickly away. In that magical moment, her body crying out for relief, the need for loving had been stronger than her fear of his heavy hands and the thrashing he had constantly threatened.
She lay, not sleeping, her body still trembling with the aftermath of love, floating in a soft, gentle world where there was no harshness, no decisions needing to be made, and wondered how much longer he wanted them to keep their love a secret.
Soon, he promised they would tell the world. He was exempt from conscription, although he didn’t explain why and she was thankful he wouldn’t be leaving her. But he was going to London, where a job awaited him. It was her dream come true, leaving Bryn Teg and St David’s Well and going to live in London. It was the place to be if she wanted to start a career as a singer. Until then they would write, and she could join the band of women waiting for their man.
* * *
After searching unsuccessfully for Eirlys, Ken walked home. She was in bed, her face turned away from him, her body rigid and unwelcoming to his touch.
‘Eirlys, tell me what’s wrong and we can put it right. I don’t know what to say to you. How can I, until you tell me what’s wrong?’
‘I want you to leave. Move out. Now. I want you out of here before Dadda and the boys are awake.’
‘No!’ he said simply. ‘My home is here, with you, and here I’ll stay. If you won’t talk to me now, then we’ll talk this through in the morning. I won’t leave the house until we do.’ He slid in beside her but they didn’t touch, both almost leaning over opposite edges of the lonely bed.
The air of tension was something of which even the boys were aware. As it was Sunday there was no rush to get to school and they asked Morgan if he would take them through the fields to Mr Gregory’s smallholding. They loved visiting the animals, especially walking on up to Sally Gough’s field, where the donkeys were settling into their winter quarters.
Morgan took one look at his daughter’s face and read the anger there. ‘Hurry up then, lads. We’ll go as soon as we’ve helped Eirlys with the dishes,’ he said. ‘We might be in time to see the chickens fed.’ As well as his laying hens, Bernard Gregory had several dozen young cockerels, four months old and being fattened for the Christmas market. The boys had watched them from day-old chicks settled around broody hens and heated substitutes, and were fascinated by the way they were changing. ‘Whether they’ll still eat their Christmas dinner after treating them almost like pets is something I don’t like to think about,’ Morgan had whispered to Eirlys once or twice.
When the house was quiet, Ken asked. ‘What is it, Eirlys? What’s bothering you now?’ His tone suggested she was being unreasonable, and even that it was part of a tedious pattern.
‘Wrong? Don’t you know?’
‘Tell me, then we can sort it out.’
‘Does the name Janet mean anything to you? You and Janet, having an affair like some sordid film story?’
‘Who told you that?’ he protested, glaring at her, about to deny it, but then his shoulders drooped and he nodded his head.
‘Don’t tell me it isn’t true. It explains so much.’
‘It isn’t true. It was true but now it’s over. It was a brief mistake and it’s finished.’
‘That it happened at all is enough. I want you to leave, Ken, and the sooner the better.’
‘Why? I admit it. I made a stupid mistake, but I love you and only you, and I want us to stay together. I want to be here when our child is born and stay, watching him grow.’ She waited, watching him and wondering if she could ever trust him again. ‘It was because we were t
hrown together so much with the work we do — did. Janet isn’t involved with my concerts any more. She’s working for Naafi and has applied for an overseas posting.’
‘So that’s why you want to come back to me? Because she’s no longer available?’
‘No. Eirlys. I — we — finished it a while ago. Someone saw us as we were ending it, quarrelling and trying to sort out the mess we’d got ourselves into. Someone saw us, and that was when I realised how stupid I’d been; I knew in that moment where I belonged and who I really loved.’
‘Fear of being caught out in your sordid affair made you run out on Janet and come back to me? That’s supposed to make me feel better?’
‘No. You’re twisting everything I say. It was that day tripper who’s become friendly with you and Beth and Hannah. Remember the drawing she showed you of two people quarrelling?’
‘That was you and Janet? Then she knows!’ She turned away from him, stood up and began banging saucepans about on the cooker, throwing vegetables into the bowl for peeling and generally acting the outraged woman. ‘Who else has been talking about me, calling me a poor stupid woman who doesn’t know what her husband is up to? Hannah knows. It was she who inadvertently told me. So how many others have guessed?’
‘I’m so sorry, but no one else can actually know, and if we behave as though there’s nothing wrong they’ll all believe the story was nothing more than rumour. Let’s face it, rumours usually are wrong.’
‘I think I hate you.’
‘I love you. I always have, in spite of all this. I love you and I want our marriage to be a success.’
She cried then and he held her in his arms until the outburst had subsided.
‘One chance, darling Eirlys. We owe it to the baby to try again. I promise you’ll never regret it.’
Holidays at Home Omnibus Page 110