‘Where is she? I’ll kill you for this!’
‘Talk to the solicitor, sign the shop over to me and she’ll turn up, unharmed. If you don’t hang about too long, that is.’
‘Who was that?’ Madge asked as Gabriel moved away. ‘He looks familiar.’
‘Mrs Chapel’s nephew and—’ he almost blurted out the truth but he realised that it would put Delyth in more danger ‘—and he wants to help us search,’ he finished.
Breaking a promise seemed unimportant now, so Madge said, ‘I remember Delyth saying he might be the man on that odd little boat we saw from the cliffs. Something about the way he stood with his head to one side—you know how observant she is; her artist’s eye, I suppose. She remembered him wearing cut-down wellingtons and saw some in that man’s van. Probably a coincidence, mind. She wasn’t sure.’
Maldwyn went with the others to search some fields further away. All the time Gabriel stayed near him, warning him against telling anyone what he’d learned. He wondered if Gabriel were telling the truth about holding Delyth, or just taking advantage of the situation to get the shop. He knew this was something the police should handle, but he daren’t risk telling them in case Gabriel was holding Delyth.
At four o’clock they stopped for a rest and a conference.
‘Time passes so fast sometimes, doesn’t it?’ Gabriel said.
Maldwyn turned to him and nodded. ‘All right. I’ll telephone the solicitor, and tomorrow I’ll go and sign anything you want.’
At the telephone box. Gabriel listened to both sides of the conversation and nodded. ‘Tomorrow, when you’ve signed the shop to me, and explained to my dear aunt how excited I am at learning the flower trade, I’ll tell you where to find her.’
‘Please, don’t leave her for another night.’
Gabriel smiled. ‘No tricks mind. I’m the only one who knows where she is, remember. I’ll meet you at the flower shop tomorrow morning at nine and we’ll go together to the solicitor, right?’
It was as Gabriel ran across the road near the promenade that the Castles’ van hit him. He lay unmoving on the road and anxiously Huw waited while someone telephoned for an ambulance. Gabriel was not hurt but he remained on the ground, his eyes closed. Maldwyn ran up, put his head close to the man’s ear and begged him to tell where he had hidden Delyth. Feigning unconsciousness, Gabriel stifled his amusement at the irony of the ill-timed accident.
* * *
Delyth watched the light fade and the night close in. She was extremely cold, unable to exercise her stiff and painful limbs. She was thirsty and hungry but no one came. She was unaware that her worst fears had materialised and the only man who knew where she was wouldn’t tell anyone and couldn’t come himself.
Madge was staying in Sidney Street, where she and Delyth had stayed before, but she spent the evening with Marged and Huw. Maldwyn was there too, and they went over and over what had happened, trying in vain to think of an explanation. Maldwyn said very little. He was imagining Delyth lying somewhere without food or comfort, alone and afraid. And it was all his fault. If he hadn’t asked Mrs Chapel for a job, none of this would have happened. He counted the long hours that would have to pass before he could sign the forms that would hand over the shop to Gabriel, and even then everything would depend on Gabriel being well enough to keep their appointment. He prayed to the fates not to let Gabriel be badly hurt or change his mind about freeing her.
When Madge’s words entered his mind he didn’t react at first.
‘A boat, did you say, Madge?’ He turned to Huw. ‘Have the police searched the boats in the harbour?’
‘Of course they have. And all those around the beach.’ To take Maldwyn’s mind off Delyth, Huw went on, ‘Funny thing, mind, there’s an old abandoned boat out in the next bay and this morning I watched it moving, yet the sea was calm. I bet there’s a couple of big fish out there. What say we go out one day and see what we can catch, eh Bleddyn?’
Bleddyn and Maldwyn had the same thought at the same time. They leaped up and grabbed their coats. ‘Come on. It’s worth checking!’
* * *
Bleddyn had once taken trippers for boat rides around the bay and along the coast, but the war had stopped all that. His boat was in a stable, propped up on trestles until he could use it on the beach once more. He led the others to a shed and pulled out a small rowing boat, which they dragged down over the shingles of the pebbly beach some distance from their destination. Bleddyn began to row strongly, cursing the lack of petrol for the engine that would have made their journey faster.
As they came around the promontory that protected the cove, he was tiring. ‘Out of training for this, I am,’ he complained, but he wouldn’t let Maldwyn take over. Inexperience would have slowed them more than his aching muscles.
* * *
Delyth was sleeping, her breathing shallow. She heard talking, and felt the movement of someone coming aboard, but didn’t move. The door opened and all she was thinking about was that if the man was bringing food, the effort of eating would be more than she could manage.
‘Delyth?’
She didn’t reply. She must be dreaming. She’d heard him call her name so often in the past hours and every time she’d responded the silence had returned to mock her.
‘Delyth, are you there?’ The lantern beam shone on her face and she closed her eyes against the glare. ‘Maldwyn?’ she whispered. ‘Is it really you?’
‘Yes, it’s me, lovely girl, it’s me.’
He wouldn’t let Bleddyn help him. He untied her, sobbing unmanfully at the stubborn knots and the swollen rope, and lifted her, talking soothingly all the time, promising her that it was all over and she was safe. He carried her to the side of the boat where he reluctantly handed her to Bleddyn, just briefly, before getting in and holding her tight until they reached the shore just below Castle’s Café.
‘I’m never letting you go again,’ he murmured. ‘I love you and I want us to be together for always.’
She was too weak to reply, but she touched his face and snuggled closer, and that was enough. Bleddyn went on rowing, whistling and pretending he couldn’t hear.
* * *
Gabriel was insisting he had to get out of the hospital. His head was aching and he had a few bruises but nothing more; he’d be fine, he insisted. But the doctor refused to let him leave until the morning.
He woke to see two policemen sitting beside his bed.
‘Get the man who knocked me down?’ he asked.
‘Yes, and I’ll pat him on the back when I meet him,’ Charlie Groves said grimly, raising his arm to show the handcuffs he had ready to clip in place.
* * *
There was an air of celebration in the town as the news broke. Ken and Eirlys walked up to the flower shop and congratulated Maldwyn.
‘We hear an engagement will soon be announced,’ Eirlys said. She took Ken’s hand. ‘I hope you’ll be as happy as we are now.’ Their contentment was clear to see. Whatever rumours and gossip they had inspired, it looked as though it was all behind them.
* * *
On a ship heading out of Dover, Janet sat in a cabin with a dozen other girls. She was going out to be a part of a travelling concert party. She opened her kit bag and took out Ken’s letters. Other girls watched, but no one made a comment as she tore them up as small as she could and threw them into a bin. It was time to move on.
* * *
Mrs Chapel sorted everything out with the solicitor, and Maldwyn and Delyth announced their engagement a few days later. Beth and Peter insisted they have a party and, with the weather promising a good day, half the town made its way to the early, unofficial opening of Castle’s Café, the venue for so many of the town’s events.
Vera wasn’t there. She had left the factory once her condition was known, and after an exchange of letters between herself and her father she had gone home.
Madge came, accompanied by Charlie Groves, and from the way they behaved Delyth thought another
engagement was likely soon. She held Maldwyn’s hand and looked around her at the slowly wakening seaside town. A few visitors were already trickling in, ignoring the government’s pleas to holiday at home. St David’s Well Bay would always be an attraction for families, a friendly place where people were sure of a welcome. It would take more than a war to persuade people otherwise.
‘Day trippers we were, Maldwyn, you, me and Madge, but now we’re locals. Any regrets?’
‘Absolutely none, lovely girl.’
Unwise Promises
One
As Audrey Thomas watched her husband Wilf walk away from her, she frowned slightly. He didn’t complain, but she had the feeling that he was not well. It wasn’t anything she could describe, just a slowing down, an extra tiredness, a lack of enthusiasm that he tried to hide from her. Either that, or something was deeply troubling him, something he felt unable to discuss with her. Neither possibility pleased her. They had always been able to tell each other everything and the idea of him being unable to include her in a problem was worrying. The other alternative, that he might be ill, was even more alarming.
He was not an old man, yet as she watched him turn the corner and give a final wave, she had a frightening feeling deep inside her that all was not well.
Although they were in their fifties, Audrey and Wilf Thomas had not been married very long. Their second anniversary had been celebrated the previous January, two months ago. Now, in March 1943, the fourth year of the war, she dreaded the thought of his health declining, of him becoming sick and unable to enjoy the years they could expect to spend together.
She wondered why her thoughts had immediately taken her to this gloomy possibility. He probably had nothing worse than an imminent head cold. The years of waiting to marry Wilf had left her aware of how few were the years they could enjoy together, but until now she hadn’t felt the fear of that time being shortened by ill health.
Family commitments had kept them apart for most of the years before they married and before that, forbidding them to marry had been her family’s punishment for her giving birth to Wilf’s son. Bobbie had died and for the years that followed they had been refused permission to marry. So strong was their obedience to the family, they had accepted that they would remain single until the deaths of Molly and Joseph Piper, Audrey’s parents. The frustrations and the bitterness faded and they settled into a comfortable friendship, and it was only after the death of all four parents that they had finally become man and wife.
Sometimes she wondered why her obedience to the family had been so absolute. Her sister Marged had been allowed to marry Huw Castle, and Huw and his brother Bleddyn had been welcomed into the family and accepted like sons. Wilf had been treated like an interloper and even now he was excluded from much of the family discussions and plans. The family business, which was involved in much of what went on around the beach in the town of St David’s Well, was the most important part of all of their lives, yet Wilf was excluded.
She remembered her mother, Molly Piper, telling her she was a member of a very important family. The Pipers of St David’s Well were largely responsible for the fame of the town, she believed. ‘In fact,’ she often used to say, ‘Pipers are St David’s Well.’
Now the famous Pipers were gone; Audrey had been the last and once she had married Wilf she became Mrs Wilf Thomas. Huw and Bleddyn and their families were Castles and it was under their name that the business had continued, with the Castles of St David’s Well, replacing the Pipers.
Yet, even though her father and mother were dead, she still heard their voices warning her to keep her promise never to leave the family; the Castles were great because of their closeness, and if only one person broke away it might be destroyed. ‘The town needs us and we need each other,’ her mother Molly Piper had repeatedly said, and Audrey had never considered disobeying.
Wilf had protested at her situation in the early years and occasionally his protests would re-emerge as they waited through the long years for the moment when they would be free to marry. He had tried to persuade her to leave, move away to another town, marry and raise children, but after a while the urgency left him and, like Audrey. he had accepted the half-life of waiting.
Her acceptance of her family’s wishes had been absolute and resentment had faded in the thirty-three years since the birth and death of little Bobbie. Now, with the fear of Wilf being ill and ruining their hopes of a few happy years, it bubbled up again. The promise, never to leave the family business and to stay to help her sister Marged run the business, had been an unkind one. It had been instilled in her that as the eldest, she had a responsibility from which there was no escape.
Still watching the corner around which Wilf had vanished, Audrey sorted out the books and leather moneybag she carried, made sure she had a couple of freshly sharpened pencils and her fountain pen, and set off on her calls selling national savings stamps. The spring weather was cold but thankfully it wasn’t raining. The sticky-backed stamps got in a real mess if they became damp. She had worked hard, calling each week on an increasing number of houses, marking the amount she sold in her notebook and handing in the money each week. The round she had built up now took two and sometimes three evenings to complete, and she hurried to the point at which she intended to begin that evening’s collections.
By this time she usually knew how many stamps each house would buy and that made it quicker. Some even left the money in a small Oxo tin into which she would put the stamps, avoiding the need to knock. It was seven o’clock when she reached 78 Conroy Street and knocked on the door. Morgan Price lived there with his daughter Eirlys and her husband Ken Ward, with their baby son, Anthony.
It was also home to Stanley, Harold and Percival Love, who had arrived as evacuees from London and stayed on in St David’s Well after they’d been orphaned. After almost four years, they were accepted by most as local boys, particularly since they had developed a hint of a Welsh accent, mixed at times with strong verbal reminders of their roots, to the amusement of their friends.
There was a loud clatter of footsteps and impatient shouting as the three evacuees raced to be first to open the door. Audrey laughed as they thrust their hands out in front of her with their sixpences ready. Stanley, aged fourteen, and his younger brothers, Harold and Percival, filled the doorway until Morgan appeared and dragged them out of the way.
‘Come in, Audrey, step over this lot,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Gang of hooligans is what they are.’ He was smiling as he gently cuffed the head of whichever one he could reach and held them back for her to enter.
The business dealt with, Audrey asked to see the baby. ‘It’s amazing how quickly they change and I haven’t seen young Anthony for a week,’ she said.
‘He’s in bed and I’m in charge,’ Stanley said proudly.
Morgan Price winked at her and agreed. ‘The boys are wonderful with Eirlys’s little one, insisting they’re his uncles. Hang on a minute and see Eirlys and Ken, why don’t you? They won’t be long, they’ve gone for a walk and they’ve promised to bring back some chips for this hungry lot.’
‘Thanks, Morgan, but I’ll carry on. Perhaps Wilf and I will call at the weekend and see you all. The girls will be waiting for their supper and I haven’t finished collecting yet. Say hello to your Eirlys for me.’ She cut through their garden to save herself a few steps, intending to walk along the lanes to her next call.
As she walked down the path she heard voices nearby and she stopped, not wanting to interrupt what was clearly an argument. She waited near the fence, hoping they would move on, and as the emphatic statements continued, one against the other, she recognized the bickering couple as Morgan’s daughter and son-in-law, Eirlys and Ken Ward.
Eirlys and Ken Ward had a very stormy marriage. Although everyone pretended not to know, it was fairly common knowledge that Ken had had an affair with Janet Copp, the girl who sang in concerts occasionally and had helped run the market café.
Ken travelled all over
the country organizing concerts, some to entertain the troops or factory workers, others to raise money for charities to help the sailors, soldiers and airmen. Janet was often a performer in concerts organized by Ken and their work had drawn them together. Travelling to venues and rehearsals, Ken had relied on her help more and more. Frequently finding themselves far from home, in digs that would otherwise have been lonely, a friendship had grown, and from that it had been easy to slip into a more intimate relationship.
Being away from home for much of the time and, when he was home, finding the house filled with the noisy evacuees and Eirlys out at work, Ken had become disillusioned with marriage. Eirlys had been at home for a while after the birth of Anthony, and he had hoped that was where she would stay. But ignoring his wishes, Eirlys had returned to her work at the local council offices on a part-time basis, insisting that as soon as she felt confident enough to leave the baby she would return to full-time. In Ken’s mind, her idea of going back to work was wrong and she was being stubborn in recognizing the fact that she was needed at home.
Until Anthony had been born, Eirlys had managed a very responsible job working for the local council and for the past couple of years had organized the local ‘Holidays At Home’ entertainment, designed to persuade people to stay at home during the war and not travel great distances to enjoy their holidays. The idea was to save valuable fuel by cutting down on the use of public transport which was needed for servicemen and their requirements. Posters asked passers by ‘Is Your Journey Really Necessary?’ and every town had been asked to organize events to persuade people not to travel.
Holidays at Home Omnibus Page 117