Holidays at Home Omnibus
Page 157
* * *
Shirley walked home through the silent streets with her mother and took the opportunity of telling Hetty about Andy Probert.
‘He kept turning up when I needed someone and he had such a light-hearted attitude to inconveniences like a bus not arriving, that he made a disaster into a joke. A problem was transformed into a chance of adventure.’
‘And you like him enough to want to see him again?’ Hetty asked.
‘I can’t. He’s dead. At least I almost believe he is. He was evading the military police as he had run away from the Army because he had a recurring nightmare about being drowned. And, according to his brother that was what happened. His death occurred exactly as in his dreams.’
‘So why do you expect to see him? You haven’t started seeing ghosts, have you?’
‘He’d run away twice previously, after being arrested. He’s a survivor. And although he was declared dead, his body was never found and, Mam, I think I saw him this evening, watching us from the shadows.’
‘That’s understandable. When my grandfather died I kept looking out for him, convinced he wasn’t dead, that a mistake had been made. Once or twice I believed I saw him.’
‘It’s not wishful thinking, Mam. I almost convinced myself it was Reggie and not Andy I’d seen but not quite. The truth is, I really can’t believe he’s dead. He was so wily. He wasn’t exactly honest and I couldn’t imagine ever sharing my life with him, but I still feel as though I’m waiting for him.’
‘We deal with death in our own way: some close themselves off from the truth, pretend it hasn’t happened; others comfort themselves by blaming someone, some vague official who had neglected to follow an order, or had given a wrong instruction. Or even the person themselves, angry with them for dying and leaving them to cope alone.’
‘I don’t think any of those reactions relate to me.’
They had reached their gate and Hetty hugged her and said. ‘No, Shirley, love. With you it’s partly unfinished business with Andy, and mostly your doubts about Freddy. You can’t make up your mind whether you love Freddy or not and putting Andy in the way of a decision is your way of dealing with it – for the moment. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until you and Freddy meet, knowing he isn’t going away again. Then you’ll know, one way or another, and Andy will fade from your mind.’
‘I hope so.’
‘And so do I, love. We can’t step into the future until we have laid to rest the past.’
* * *
An inebriated Sam, escorted by an only slightly more capable Morgan, struggled to walk in a straight line along the kerb and he kept falling off the edge.
‘Damn me, Sam. I don’t know what to do with you. Too heavy to carry and too useless to walk.’ Morgan turned and called to Keith, who was gathering the last of the planks, making them safe until morning. ‘Keith, come and help me with Sam, will you? I won’t get him home till morning at this rate. Sam sat himself down on the pavement, leaned against Morgan’s legs and sang softly to himself. Keith and Morgan got him to his feet and over to Marged’s house.
‘Best he stays with us,’ Huw said. ‘I can’t see him getting much sympathy from our Lilly, can you?’
‘I doubt she’d even answer the door,’ Marged agreed. ‘Bring him inside.’
‘Great,’ Morgan said. ‘Thanks Marged. Now I can go home before Eirlys locks me out!’
‘Wait a minute, not so fast,’ Marged said, pointing to her silly, giggling son-in-law leaning on their front door. ‘You can help us sort this merry old soul out first.’
They managed to get Sam on to the couch and Marged wrote a brief note explaining the absence of her husband, for Lilly. ‘It’s to put through the letter box if she doesn’t answer your knock,’ she explained to Morgan.
Lilly heard the knock and the voice calling her name but she didn’t move. Uncaring of where her husband spent the night she lay there cuddling Phyllis, wrapped in misery, wondering why everything had gone wrong.
It had been such a wonderful thing to do, to marry Sam when her parents thought she was courting his son. Wonderful too to move into Sam’s neat little house and have him spoil her with attention and money and all the freedom she wanted to meet with friends and with few demands on her for work around the house.
Then Sam Junior had come home and reminded her of all she had been missing. With a sigh of deep melancholy she thought Sam might live for another twenty-five years and she would be trapped until she was an old woman with no chance of a different sort of life.
Her eyes opened wide then, as she felt the shame of her thoughts. Besides not wanting to wish him dead, she knew she needed him. She and Phyllis were safe in his keeping and she didn’t imagine there were many men who would give her such an easy life. No, she didn’t want him to die, but perhaps she could find a way to continue seeing Sam Junior without him finding out.
Perhaps moving into those awful rooms would have an advantage. Sam Junior would have to find a place to live – there was no room for him there, and it could be a place for them to meet. Curiously she stepped out into the hall and peered through the window to see whether Sam was still patiently waiting. She would let him in, he’d been punished enough for her having to walk home alone. Instead she found Marged’s note and she was immediately angry that he had been given a comfortable place. Tomorrow she would tell him she hadn’t seen the note but had lain awake worrying about where he could be. She pushed it back out through the letter box and went back to bed.
* * *
Morgan revived the coal fire with a few sticks and sat in the quiet room, drinking a glass of water to ease the sourness of his stomach after too much alcohol and not enough food. He wished Sam hadn’t confided in him. It wasn’t a secret he wanted to share. It was too much a reminder of his own infidelity and those of Dolly, mother of Stanley, Harold and Percival, whom he had once hoped to marry. He decided that next time he and Sam met he would say nothing to suggest he remembered. He hoped that Sam would have forgotten telling him.
* * *
On the couch, with the embers of the fire glowing in Marged and Huw’s living room, Sam lay thinking about his foolish marriage and the cruel reminder of his stupidity when he had found his son and his wife together. After a brief doze he had woken with a mind as clear as ever and he remembered telling Morgan what had happened.
Why hadn’t he kept quiet? What was it about drink that obliterated the common sense of confidentiality? It gave a sense of brotherhood to people who would normally be strangers. And a need to show deep and everlasting friendship by sharing secrets, displaying honesty and an openness that should never be revealed.
Although he had known Morgan for many years, they had never been close and he didn’t know enough about the man to guess whether or not he would forget what he’d been told. Perhaps his intake of drink had clouded his mind sufficiently for him to have missed it completely? For a moment that hopeful thought brightened him but then doubts returned. A juicy bit of gossip like that would have revived the most drunken of men. An old fool like himself being cheated on by a too-young wife, who would be able to keep that to themselves?
* * *
Cassie was another person not able to sleep well that night. The war was over and although she didn’t expect everything to revert back immediately in some magical way to pre-war conditions, she did wonder why Joseph was still unable to come home. An hour, that was all it took for him to travel home. For months he had left everything to her and she was tired and lonely. The street party, with families gathered together for celebration and lots of foolish fun, had deepened her unhappiness, reminding her of all she had missed.
A letter had come offering some fire-damaged bedding which had to be collected from a warehouse and instead of waiting for Joseph to get in touch and ask him to arrange for its collection, she decided to go there herself and at the same time call at the office where he worked. Surely now, with the war in Europe ended, there wasn’t a need to stay away? The di
stribution of supplies to the army bases in Great Britain couldn’t still be a heavily guarded secret.
She would go there and ask for him. The worst that could happen was to be told he wasn’t available or unable to leave his work. Comforted by the decision, she set her alarm for two hours’ time and went to sleep.
Lilly eventually slept too, having decided to plead with her parents to be allowed home.
At the time Cassie and Lilly were finally closing their eyes, Netta woke and dressed herself as smartly as she could. Today she was starting work with the Castle family and she was going to make sure they were pleased with her performance.
Six
Ken put down the magazine he was reading when he heard Eirlys coming in. He went out to greet her and took the shopping she carried and placed it on the table. Morgan was at work and the three boys were out. Now seemed to be a good time to sow a few seeds of an idea he had in mind.
‘I was talking to an actor friend today, Geoffrey Casterton. I phoned him about a young actor who he might audition for a small part in a play he’s touring with. Someone was taken ill and they’re desperate.’
‘Has he agreed to see him?’ Eirlys asked, as she packed her shopping away.
‘The frustrating thing is, if I lived nearer to London, I could have taken him along and introduced them. It helps to show your face. Once I’m better known they would come to me when they were searching for an actor instead of me trying to find an opening for those on my list.’
Eirlys showed no reaction and he wondered if the thought had penetrated her mind. She was so busy and with so many differing parts to her life she was sometimes lost when he tried to discuss something. London was where he wanted to be. His plans would not take root here, in the small town of St David’s Well. He needed to be where the action was, in London. But how could he persuade Eirlys that it was what they should do?
She made no comment on his remark and when she did speak it was clear that her mind was on her own work and not his.
‘I’ll be seeing Marged and Huw later. I have to tell them about a meeting they should attend. Shall we all go? The boys won’t mind a trip to the beach and Anthony will enjoy it too.’
‘Lovely,’ he said, hiding his disappointment. He would have to try again, when she had less on her mind, although when that would be he had no idea. It would have to be soon. With the war over and everyone coming home, he knew he had to move and find his place quickly while the opportunities were still there.
Later that evening, Eirlys picked up the magazine Ken had been reading to put it on the pile with the boys’ comics and the newspapers, and she noticed the page that was open advertised offices to rent. She frowned, but then shrugged. It couldn’t be for Ken; he must be investigating the possibilities for a friend, she decided.
In the phone box on the corner, Ken was working his way down a list of numbers. He was checking on cost and availability of offices to let.
* * *
A meeting of the entertainments committee was called for early June to confirm arrangements for the activities for the following months. Eirlys sat on the platform near her bosses, Mr Gifford and Mr Johnston, and prepared to take notes. She had her own list prepared, together with the dates and bookings already made.
The first alteration was the inclusion of a Victory Parade, with children dressed in the uniforms of the services and national costumes, carrying banners and flags of all the nations who had fought with Britain in the conflict. There would be a concert given for the children who were taking part. This was planned for the end of June, by which time it was hoped some of the fathers and older brothers would have been demobbed and able to watch the children taking part.
Eirlys suggested a collection, with people standing on the pavements rattling tins, as the parade of children walked past, and she promised to arrange for volunteers. Yet another note on her ever growing list of things to do.
When the meeting broke up, Eirlys handed her neatly written notes to Mr Gifford, keeping a carbon copy for herself, and slipped away to talk to Huw and Bleddyn, who, as owners of the beach café, stalls and rides, had been invited to contribute. Bleddyn told her he and Huw were offering free rides to the children in fancy dress on the day of the parade, and she went back to report this to her boss. To her surprise she saw Bernard Gregory and his son talking to them.
‘Dad’s offering the donkeys to join in the procession,’ Peter explained. ‘In Crete and other places, the donkeys helped against the enemy and Dad thinks they should be represented.’
Smiling agreement, Eirlys left them and returned to the office. She would be working late again that evening, writing letters to confirm bookings for the concert and inviting others to attend. There was a pile of collecting tins in an unused office and she went to see whether they could be relabelled and used for the collection alongside the procession. There was still a war to be won and the Red Cross needed funds.
The room which was below the ground floor was the one in which she had worked before the war. It was small, dark and it had contained three desks where three typists and a filing clerk struggled to do the work sent down from the offices above. Life was certainly better now she was able to use her talent for organization. Thank goodness she would never have to return to the boring work of those days.
In a matter of weeks after the European victory, Alice was told she was no longer needed at the factory. With relief she called on her parents-in-law and offered to work on the sands.
‘Only till Eynon and Johnny come home,’ she said. ‘I know you won’t need me then. But until they get back I can work for you in the café.’
Marged and Huw looked at each other.
‘Pity is, we’ve got enough at the moment, Alice, love,’ Marged said, ‘with the new girl helping in the café, and Maude and Stanley, and me and Huw, Bleddyn and Hetty run the fish and chip shop with part-time help.’ She shrugged in disappointment.
‘Stanley might be glad of some help on the stalls, mind,’ Huw added. ‘The busiest time is to come and, good as he is, he can’t run two rides and a stall during the holiday months.’
Trying to smile, Alice said, ‘It seems you don’t need me. That’s good, I’m glad you haven’t had worries like last year, when Beth and I left the business and Audrey opened her own café with Keith. Don’t worry, I’ll find something.’
‘The truth is, Alice, we couldn’t pay you enough. You’ll do better somewhere else, somewhere permanent, not just for the season. And this Netta’s a bit of a find,’ Huw confided. ‘She works real hard, and doesn’t seem to mind what she’s asked to do.’
‘Netta? That wouldn’t be Lilly’s friend, would it?’
‘Yes, d’you know her?’
‘Remember I told you about a young woman following me? That was Netta. I know you think I imagined it, but she met Lilly in the park and I have the feeling she deliberately cultivated her friendship until she was introduced to the rest of you.’ She shrugged as though expecting them to laugh. ‘I know. It sounds ridiculous. But Lilly told me she asks a lot of questions about the Castles. Lilly was flattered, being reminded of how famous her family is, but I am less happy. She makes me uneasy.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye on her,’ Huw said.
‘Both eyes!’ Alice joked, but although she made their faces crease in a smile, the laughter failed to reach her own. She was hurt. Why hadn’t they thought of getting rid of Netta? She was family, an important member of the workforce, and now she was free, surely she had a place within the family business? But was it all a pretence? Nothing more than politeness because she was married to their son? She felt bereft, she no longer belonged. Would she feel that way with Eynon? Would he with her?
She went home and wrote to Eynon, telling him about her uneasiness regarding Netta but, unwilling to worry him with something that might after all be in her imagination, she tore it up and started again, writing a light-hearted description of the fancy dresses Hannah and Eirlys were making for t
heir children. She ended by hoping that he would be home in time to share the fun. Letters to serving soldiers were often torn up during the war years. A chance remark that might cause worry was quickly relegated to the rubbish bin. No one wanted the men and women to worry about things they weren’t able to change.
News of demobilization was now being discussed with the same enthusiasm as the war had been. The discharging of forces was due to begin in the middle of June and already families were preparing their own celebrations. Paint was found to create banners to hang over doorways and ‘Welcome home, Dad’ flags were made from any material that could be found.
By the time the day of the Victory Parade came, many houses had greeted their loved ones and for them, victory was complete.
Demobilization was by way of selection with age and length of service priorities for early discharge, but there were those with particular skills who were allowed to leave sooner than the rules allowed. Builders, farm workers and those concerned with industry were quickly discharged to ensure the country got back on its feet as quickly as possible. So one of the first familiar faces to be seen back in St David’s Well with his discharge papers and a new suit was that of Reggie Probert, who had worked on Bernard Gregory’s smallholding when the authorities had taken Sally Gough’s fields and handed them to Bernard to grow more food.
He had discussed a permanent job with Bernard and it was to the smallholding he went first on arriving in St David’s Well, to ask if the arrangement still stood.
Bernard agreed, aware that his son, Peter, did not intend to take on his father’s business and also, that he was getting too old to continue working as hard and as long as he had over the past years. Leaving his small suitcase with Bernard, and wearing his ‘demob’ suit, Reggie went to find Maude.