‘Maude! What are you doing here? I thought I’d seen a ghost!’
‘Me too an’ all,’ muttered a trembling Percival. ‘You’ve given us all nightmares. Maude.’
As confidence returned, Stanley demanded, ‘What the ’ell you playing at, Maude? Eh?’
‘I was feeling miserable and I thought that by coming here, remembering how we had lived after running away from the children’s home, I might realize how lucky Myrtle and I now are.’
‘Why did you run away?‘ Percival wanted to know.
‘We thought we had a brother-in-law and we wanted to find him.’ Maude said.
‘Instead we found Hetty and Shirley Downs,’ Myrtle added.
‘Shirley’s a sister, our dad was her dad, too. Hetty didn’t like us at first, but now she’s like another auntie. And we’ve got all the Castle family and lots of friends.’ Myrtle turned to her sister. ‘So, what have you got to be miserable about, our Maude?’
‘Nothing. I suppose. I feel lonely now you’re out so much. Auntie Audrey and Wilf away, everyone busy, I’m neglected, and I want to work at the beach like I used to.’
‘Jealous, she is,’ Stanley whispered to Myrtle as they left the sad building and set off once more for the beach. ‘You having a nice bloke like me to go out with.’
She grinned and gave him a push. She turned to her sister. ‘Why don’t you come with us?’ she asked, but Maude shook her head.
‘I’ll go home with her,’ Myrtle said, handing Harold the soggy paper bag she was holding. ‘I dare say you lot will manage to eat my share.’
‘Don’t do that, Myrtle,’ Stanley whispered urgently. ‘It’s what she wants, to spoil things.’
‘Don’t be daft! She isn’t well, that’s all.’
‘Spoils things, that’s what she does. Jealous of you and the friends you make and the fun you have, so she spoils it.’
Angrily, Myrtle pushed him away and hurried after Maude. She was aware that what he was saying was true but she wasn’t ready to face it.
As they walked home, Maude said, ‘D’you think if I brought the man from the employment office here, showed him where we had lived, he might be more sympathetic?’
‘Worth a try,’ Myrtle said. ‘Talk to Uncle Huw about it, he’d know how to get them to come.’ She patted her sister’s arm. ‘Sorry you were miserable and I wasn’t there to talk you out of it.’
‘I’m on my own so much lately. You always off with that daft Stanley, Auntie Audrey and Uncle Wilf in Devon.’
‘You don’t have to stay in. Why don’t you go out? You never know who you’ll meet if you go out instead of locking yourself away.’
‘I don’t know anyone.’
‘Course you do, there’s them for a start!’ Myrtle pointed to where Mr Gregory and his donkeys were coming around the corner of the lane, returning from their day on the beach.
They turned and walked beside the dainty-footed creatures. Maude touching the rough wet coats, taking pleasure at being with the sturdy animals. They waited while Mr Gregory collected the animals’ feed and a bale of hay which the lead donkey, Charlie, carried, and went with him to the stables where they were sheltered at night.
The sound of the donkeys as they chewed their meal, the smell of their wet coats, the companionable feeling they gave, comforted Maude in a way she was unable to describe. They gave comfort and asked nothing in return. Mr Gregory studied her changing expression, the frown lines easing away, the jaw softening and, clenching his pipe in his strong teeth, he smiled and nodded slightly to show he understood.
* * *
When Maude left the factory at two o’clock one afternoon, she remembered Myrtle’s words and, instead of going home she went for a walk. Her feet took her along the lane leading to Mr Gregory’s smallholding, and at a junction where two lanes crossed, she saw a young man standing looking at a piece of paper, turning it this way and that in a puzzled manner, shuffling his feet, looking in one direction then another, obviously lost. She called out offering help and walked towards him.
‘I’m looking for a Mr Gregory,’ he explained. ‘I have an appointment to talk about a job.’
‘I’m heading that way. I’ll show you where he lives but he might not be there. He’s probably on the beach with the donkeys for a couple of hours yet.’ Maude said.
‘I have an appointment with him.’ he explained, waving a piece of paper vaguely.
‘In that case, he’ll have left someone in charge.’
After pointing the way she looked at him curiously. He looked about her own age, so why was he job hunting when he was at the age for being called up?
As though reading her mind, he said. ‘I was offered the chance of doing work on the land instead of the army. My parents have a farm and I’m experienced in growing things.’
‘I thought they employed girls to do that sort of thing.’ she said with a hint of disapproval. She was immediately resentful at her own unchosen placement. ‘The Land Army is supposed to be for girls, to release men to fight. I tried to join but they wouldn’t have me because I have a few health problems. I had no choice,’ she said pointedly. ‘I was told to work in a factory and I hate it. I’d love the chance to work on the beach with the rest of my family. How come you were able to choose?’
‘Things change. I’m needed here apparently. But in a few months I’ll be told to join the forces. I’ve only been given a deferment.’
‘You don’t think the war will end this year then?’ she asked, softening her tone.
‘Unlikely, I’d say, but we can hope.’ He smiled then and asked, ‘Why the beach? What can you do to help win the war working on the beach?’
‘Entertainment is important. People need some fun as much now as in peace time. More perhaps, and the Castle family do a lot to keep people entertained.’
They had reached the gate of the smallholding, and walking to meet them was Bernard Gregory, his pipe in his hand, waving towards them.
‘Hello, Maude, coming in for a drink? I’ve made some tea and Beth brought some cakes home yesterday, left over from her café.’ Turning to the young man, he said, ‘You must be Reginald, come in and I’ll show you around.’
An hour later, Maude and Reginald left Bernard leaning on his gate, waving his pipe at them, as they set off back to the town.
‘Never without his pipe or that old hat of his,’ Maude whispered.
‘Where are you off to now?’ Reggie asked. ‘I don’t have to rush back, so if you want to show me the beach where these wonderful entertainments take place, I’ll be pleased to see it.’
Maude was hungry. The small cakes Bernard had offered them had not been enough, so she hesitated.
‘It’s all right, Maude, I understand if you want to get home,’ the young man continued.
She shook her head. She didn’t want to say goodbye to this pleasant young man. Taller than her by a head and strongly built, with hair that was wiry and long, a thick black frame for his rugged face with its surprisingly dark blue eyes. With an instant change of mind, she said, ‘No, not home. I was wondering if we could go to the Castle’s café. I’m starving.’
‘The café it is.’ He pulled some coins out of his pocket and examined them. ‘Four and sixpence I’ve got, is that enough d’you think?’
‘We’ll go Dutch,’ she insisted, taking out a purse and shaking it encouragingly.
Myrtle was there and she looked up in surprise when her sister walked in with the young man and introduced him rather casually, as though they were long time friends. ‘My baby sister,’ she announced as she waved towards Myrtle.
‘Nearly sixteen,’ Myrtle hissed.
Marged filled two plates with chips and a slice of spam and handed it to the young couple just as Huw was asking Reggie if he was looking for work. Reggie laughed and shook his head.
‘If I started work here I’d be in the army faster than Maude can eat this plate of chips.’ He explained his position.
‘So, we’ll be seeing yo
u then, if you’re living at Bernard’s place with our daughter Beth,’ Marged said and further explanations ensued on the Castle family members.
When Reggie walked back to the station, he was bemused with the information that had been hurled at him and begged Maude to meet him at the weekend and help him to sort it out. Maude walked home filled with excitement. Her feet wanted to dance. It was the first time she had made any kind of arrangement to meet a boy and Reginald was one of the nicest she had ever met.
* * *
That evening, Shirley was taking part in a concert not far from the town of Newport. Because of the late finish, she had been given accommodation in a small bed and breakfast in the town and a taxi had been arranged to take her there at the end of her performance.
She was quite used to staying away from home now. She enjoyed the camaraderie of other performers and had no fears about waiting for taxis to take her to unknown places to spend the night. That evening she had been asked to join with a small group and sing a few choruses at the hospital where they had given a small concert for injured soldiers, sailors and airmen. She was touched to see how the familiar choruses cheered them.
They overran their time and when she went for the taxi it had gone. Using the telephone in one of the nurse’s rooms she was disappointed to be told that she would have to wait for almost an hour.
‘That will make it late for my landlady,’ she said with a worried frown. ‘She doesn’t have a phone, so I can’t let her know.’
A young man who had been helping with the mock-up stage asked where she was staying and, when she told him the address, offered to take her home.
‘I’ve got Dad’s car and enough petrol to get me home and I go past your digs anyway,’ he assured her. The taxi was cancelled and amid grateful thanks, the young man, who said his name was James Thorby, helped her and her stick and small makeup bag into the Austin Seven with pride.
Shirley didn’t know the area and had never been to the address where she was to stay, so when ten minutes had passed in polite conversation and she looked out to see fields and woodland she didn’t feel any alarm. The town couldn’t be far and with the continuing restriction of lights being shown at night, she wasn’t likely to see it until they had arrived.
It was as the road became a lane and appeared to peter out into what was no more than a track, that she asked, ‘Is this a short cut, James?’
He turned to smile at her and gave a slow chuckle. ‘We aren’t in a hurry to get there, are we? Why would we want a short cut? There’s a nice little patch of grass up here just outside the wood, we can sit there and get to know each other.’
A chill drenched her in sweat, she felt it running down her sides. Her bowels churned and muscles stiffened as fear gripped her. Trying to sound calm and in control, she said, ‘I think you’ve made a mistake, James. I am very tired and I need to get to sleep.’
His hand left the wheel and he began to caress her thigh, moving higher until she lifted her handbag and brought it down heavily on his roaming hand, making him gasp.
‘What did you do that for?’
‘Please, just take me to my digs, will you?’
‘What’s the m-m-matter, Shirley? You’ve been g-g-giving me the eye all evening and the way you accepted my offer of a lift, well, we know how many b-b-b-beans make five, don’t we?’
His stutter and the way he was glancing at her showed he was as nervous as herself and her panic increased. ‘Stop the car! I insist you turn around and take me back to town as you promised.’
‘S-s-stop the c-car,’ he mocked. ‘T-t-t-ake me home! All right, I don’t mind playing your games and having some fun first.’ He stopped the car and she backed away from him as he leaned towards her. She realized with increasing alarm, that he thought her demands, her reticence, were part of the game in which he believed they were involved.
She opened the door of the car and threatened, ‘I’ll scream if you come near me. D’you understand?’ She reached towards him to rescue her stick but he caught hold of her arm in a strong grip, pulling her until they were face to face.
‘Tease,’ he hissed. ‘Worse than tarts they are.’ With frightening speed he leaned across and pushed her so she fell from the car onto the gravelly surface, then he drove off. The tail lights disappeared and she was alone in complete darkness, miles from anywhere. Surely he’d come back? He wouldn’t abandon her without cause? She felt panic rising as she realized she knew nothing about him and neither would anyone else. She hadn’t even noticed the man until she was phoning for the taxi. Her presumption that he was one of the hospital staff was almost certainly wrong.
The sound of the engine which had almost faded, grew louder and she sighed with relief. He was coming back. Thank goodness. He’d only intended to frighten her. He was coming back and everything would be all right. She knew she would never accept the offer of a lift ever again, particularly in an area she didn’t know.
As the red lights reappeared, she began to prepare words to apologize without appearing too forward — she didn’t want to face more embarrassment. The car skidded on the gravel. the door opened but as she stepped forward to get in, first her stick was thrown out then her handbag, open, its contents, including the torch without which she never travelled, falling in a scatter. Then the door slammed shut and he drove off once again. The silence settled around her and she fought back tears of helplessness. Lowering herself painfully to her knees, she began to feel around trying to gather her belongings, her fingers searching for the round, shiny torch with urgency.
She collected what she could, then sat wondering what to do. It couldn’t be more than midnight and she didn’t fancy sitting there until morning in the faint hope of someone passing. She got up, wishing she was wearing something more sensible than a thin dress decorated with sequins. Heading back the way they had come seemed the wisest thing to do and as she walked, picking her way in the darkness with only the narrow beam of light from the torch to guide her way, she tried to remember how long it had been since they had made the last turn.
A man was leaning against a tree, a couple of dead rabbits hanging on his shoulder, a ferret in his pocket. His eyesight was keen as he was used to being out at night and he saw and heard the woman approaching long before she reached the bend in the track. He moved quietly around to the other side of the trunk and waited.
The person was walking unevenly and when he saw the long clothes and heard her sobs, he realized it was a woman and didn’t want to frighten her. He ran quietly and swiftly until he was some distance away from her, then he began singing. Approaching her slowly would worry her less.
‘“Kiss me goodnight Sergeant Major”’, he sang, ‘“Tuck me in my little wooden bed”. Here, who’s that wandering around at this time of night?’ he asked, as though he’d just heard her.
‘Go away!’
‘Certainly, but if you’re lost, I’m the bloke to help you. I know this area like a pigeon knows his way home.’ He stepped out from the bushes and Shirley raised her stick threateningly.
‘All right. I’ll leave you to find your own way. How did you get out here? No buses and we’re a long way from a railway. Car?’ he suggested, head on one side. ‘Bicycle? Broomstick?’
‘I was offered a lift but, well it might sound like a joke to you, but he got fresh and I’ve ended up having to walk.’
The man laughed and she turned and walked on. He ran to catch her up. ‘Sorry, I’m real sorry, but you have to admit it’s funny. It’s like a music hall joke.’
She admitted she needed help and he led her, keeping well away from her, aware of the speed with which she could raise that formidable stick, until they came to a small cottage.
Leaving her at the gate, he knocked on the door until a window opened and a voice called out angrily. Shirley heard a whispered exchange of words and soon a man and a woman came to the door.
She had a fleeting thought that this might be an experience similar to the first, but she was exhauste
d, her leg was aching badly and she accepted the invitation to sleep on their sofa.
‘You bin poachin’ again, young Andy?’
‘Poaching? Me? Never! But I’ve left a rabbit on your doorstep. If anyone asked, he gave himself up.’
The following morning, after a good sleep and a huge breakfast, Shirley was taken into Newport on a hay cart, where she collected her overnight bag and caught the train back to St David’s Well, wondering whether she would ever again have the nerve to leave it.
* * *
Audrey and Wilf came home from Devon and when Huw met them at the station, it was immediately apparent to him that something was wrong. Audrey was flushed, as though holding back anger, Wilf solemn and uneasy. They answered the usual questions about the few days away automatically, as though the holiday was already forgotten and irrelevant. Huw’s good-natured smile faded and he was reduced to silence as he drove them through the streets in the late evening glow. The day had been a pleasant one, but these two had brought clouds and gloom, Huw thought curiously. He glanced at them in the rear view mirror wondering if they had been quarrelling — a most unlikely event.
Marged opened the door to them and ushered them inside, while Huw carried their luggage to their own house a few doors further on. Audrey refused her sister’s invitation to stay for a meal, insisting they went straight to their own home. ‘You can come if you wish, we have something to tell you both.’
‘It’s only salad and baked potatoes with a scrap of cheese.’ Marged announced, ‘so I’ll bring it up.’ She placed all they needed on a tray and took the supper to where her sister and Wilf were sitting silently, one each side of the table.
‘I won’t be opening the shop as I promised,’ Audrey announced when they were sitting down to the meal Marged had prepared for them. Maude and Myrtle were both out and the four of them were sitting uneasily around the table.
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