Holidays at Home Omnibus
Page 163
She loved living in South Wales among people who cared, in a small town surrounded by lovely countryside and small villages. Yet she knew that if she really wanted success, her future lay in faraway places. Once she allowed herself to be free, her voice would take her all over the country, perhaps the world, and sometimes that was what she wanted, but not always. In fact her ambition, once so strong, was becoming less and less important to her. Freddy was coming home.
If only Andy would go away she would welcome Freddy home and perhaps, just perhaps she would marry him and settle here, accept a small local career and be happy.
* * *
Freddy walked the streets of the town where Shirley had performed and couldn’t break away from the sadness of his homecoming. All his dreams of a future with Shirley were shattered. He had seen her on stage that evening and marvelled at her talent. She out-classed everyone else. She was a caged bird who needed to be free. How could he expect her to think of him as anything more than a loving friend when she could fly from her cage and dazzle the whole world? She was beautiful and her voice thrilled everyone who heard her. He had such mundane dreams. Opening a shop to sell shirts and suits? He must have been mad to imagine Shirley and himself together.
He went to the hotel, where his small suitcase and a bag containing a new shirt and tie, which was all he had in the world, laughed at him. Tomorrow he would leave, but not to go to St David’s Well. He would find a new town where he could begin again. A place where he could work and forget he had ever known and loved Shirley Downs.
* * *
Shirley stepped off the train and began to walk to Brook Lane. As she walked she made a decision. No matter how many times she saw Andy, and even if he spoke to her, she would say nothing to anyone else. If she pretended it wasn’t happening, then others might forget she had ever thought differently.
She knew without doubt he was alive, but she wouldn’t give people the opportunity to suspect she was losing her mind. The nudges, the shared, knowing looks hadn’t gone unnoticed. She was fully aware of what people were saying about her. No more. Andy was dead, just like everyone thought. She felt better, more in control having made the decision.
At the end of Brook Lane she heard a voice call, ‘Shirley.’ It was a voice that chilled her blood, then anger overcame the shock and she carried on walking as though she hadn’t heard.
‘Hello, lovely girl. Marvellous you were tonight. Absolutely marvellous.’ He touched her arm and gripped it, holding her back. ‘I pinched a purse today so I could buy a ticket. Best seats too. Third row. Worth every penny you were.’
She slipped her key into the lock but he stopped her from turning it, his hand over hers, his breath touching her throat. ‘Come for a walk, Shirley, please. Just ten minutes of your time, that’s all. You can spare ten minutes, can’t you?’
She turned to face him. ‘Go away, Andy. I’m tired of your games.’
‘Please, lovely girl. All right then, five minutes.’
‘All right, I’ll only talk to you on one condition. That is you promise to go and see Reggie, tell him I haven’t been imagining seeing you.’
‘I can’t do that, lovely girl. Not yet. Not until I’ve sorted out what I’m going to do.’
She had turned back and was grasping the key but again he stopped it turning.
‘It isn’t easy, setting myself up with a new identity, a new life. Give me another week and then I’ll go and see him. There, I promise. One week and I’ll let everyone who needs to, know that I didn’t drown. Right?’
* * *
Reggie was worried. He didn’t quite believe that Shirley was suffering from delusions. Andy was such a devious character that it was just possible she was right and he had survived. He looked around him at the passengers waiting for the train. They had walked from the theatre and it was unlikely he would see Shirley. Travelling from the theatre by taxi, she’d have caught an earlier train and would be safely tucked up in bed by the time he could get to Brook Lane, but he had to go there, just in case.
On his long legs he was at the end of the lane when Andy finally talked Shirley into walking with him and listening to his story. It was curiosity that persuaded her, she wanted to know what had happened between him almost drowning and being rescued. Although, she was doubtful whether what he had to say would be the truth.
He took her arm and threaded it through his and she impatiently pulled away. They went to the park, where the railings had been taken for scrap and there were no gates to keep anyone out, and he invited her to sit beside him on a bench. She moved so they weren’t touching and demanded to know what had happened.
‘It was just like the dream, Shirley. The one that’s haunted me all my life. I was in the water and heads bobbed all around me and there was no one to help. I couldn’t breathe. My mouth and nose were covered by foul, greasy water, the surface moving up and down, covering my face one minute, choking me in thick oil and the next dropping down giving me hope of another breath. I was drowning, only this time I wasn’t going to wake up in bed, with Reggie telling me it was all right. I almost gave up and accepted my fate, but a piece of wood floated near me, part of the boat I’d been in, maybe. Anyway, I grabbed it and heaved myself partly across it and, well, I was drifting for about three hours.
‘Staying awake was the hardest part. I was so cold and utterly exhausted, terrified of choking on the foul-smelling oil as much as dying in the deep water beneath me. Fear can rob you of your strength – I didn’t know that, but I learnt a lot of things during those three hours. It was tempting just to relax and let myself go. After all, it was what the dream had told me, that I’d meet my end in the water like that. It seemed impossible to cheat on my fate. But I kept seeing your face, and I swear that was what saved me.’
In spite of her determination to disbelieve him, sympathy flooded through her. Why should he be blamed for running away when he had been so certain he would die?
‘What were you doing in a boat?’ she asked.
‘Running away,’ he replied and she could see his grin in the darkness.
‘Running away?’ she repeated foolishly.
‘We were boarded on to this ship, see, being taken out to France for the final push. When we were disembarking on the other side, we saw lines of men being marched up the dockside, then the drizzly rain increased to a downpour, so heavy you couldn’t see a hand in front of you, so me and a couple of other lads jumped over the side and swam to a small fishing boat. We hid until they sailed and went out with the rest of the fleet and, dammit, one of them hit a mine. Our boat was smashed and over the side we went.’
‘What happened to the others?’
‘The other two made it and they reported me as “drowned while absconding”.’
‘So why did you come back here and torment me?’
‘I didn’t intend to torment you, lovely girl. I knew it was a risk but I had to see you and I just didn’t want anyone else to know until I’d sorted myself out. There’s this man, see, and he’s getting me a new identity card and even a ration book. It’s amazing who you meet in the Army, even if I didn’t stay long. I can’t give myself up. You must see that. I’m a man for the open air, the fields and the woods. I need the big sky above me. Not bars over a small window. I don’t want to spend my best years in prison.’
‘Sorry,’ a voice said as a figure stepped from behind a bush, ‘but that’s exactly what you will be doing!’
‘Reggie! How did you get here? I didn’t know I’d be here myself until half an hour ago!’
‘Tormenting Shirley was a mistake. I believed her and I’ve been trying to catch you. Tonight I’ve succeeded.’
‘Not tormenting you, Shirley, believe me. I didn’t want to upset you, either of you,’ he added, turning to look at his brother.
‘I’ll hold him here while you call the police,’ Reggie said, and while they were momentarily distracted, Andy suddenly darted away and headed for the open gateway of the park. Reggie followed and w
ithin seconds the two brothers were scuffling on the ground, grunts verbalizing the blows they received from each other’s fists.
Both men were strong and fit but it was Reggie, fuelled by anger, who won the brief fight. He asked Shirley to phone for the police and he held Andy until they came. She did so, freed from the fascination he had for her. Ashamed that she had felt anything but distaste for someone who had cheated and stolen and evaded taking part in the war, while others fought for the freedom he enjoyed.
She went home to write to Freddy, to tell him everything that had happened, but to her surprise, on the table beside the cup set out ready for her hot drink, there were several of her letters to him, returned care of her own address. So where was he?
* * *
Every day saw more men returning from the battlefields. Many went home to children who didn’t know them and who objected to the stranger who came to share their lives. Others returned to wives who no longer wanted them, some had found someone else and some admitted that the love they had once enjoyed was no longer there.
More drunks than in recent years were seen wandering the streets, thankful when the police arrested them and gave them a bed for the night. The heroes, the victims of battles already drifting into the past, wandered around the town: some sick and confused, others fit and foolish, unable to settle back into the life they had lost years before. Freddy Clements was not the only soldier to return to no one and nothing.
Reggie was told that his brother would be dealt with by the military, and he was already regretting his part in Andy’s arrest. His motives had been honest. He believed that Andy needed a fresh start and the only way to achieve one was to wipe out all his previous mistakes.
* * *
Lilly wondered what would happen when Sam Junior returned. Where would he go? And how would they manage to meet? She didn’t discuss it with Sam, who seemed unconcerned by the thought of his son returning to find no home. So far as she knew, he hadn’t told Sam Junior their new address. She had told him. In one of her letters sent via Netta she had explained fully the dreadful situation she had found herself in, living in dingy rooms and with far less money to spend. So how could Sam call and see them? If his father hadn’t explained and given his son the new address he couldn’t suddenly appear. He wasn’t supposed to know. There was a danger of his finding out that she and Sam Junior had been in contact and the idea was both frightening and exciting.
* * *
Netta still worked in the beach café with Marged and Huw and Maude. She worked hard and was willing to do anything they asked of her, and only Alice was uncertain.
Netta still came to the café sometimes on her days off, bringing Dolly and Walter with her. Dolly continued to charm them and Walter gradually relaxed and began to accept Huw as a favourite uncle and Marged as a loving auntie. Alice watched them and her uneasiness grew. There was something in the way Netta watched her. And the ways she managed to talk to other members of the family and exclude her, putting her outside the family circle. She didn’t exactly know how she achieved this, but there were many times when the group, including Marged and Huw and sometimes Audrey and Keith and even Beth and Hannah, were rapt in something the girl was telling them, while she stood a little apart, the conversation taking place around her, isolating Alice from them.
At home, Alice considered this and wondered whether the fault was within herself. Perhaps, because she and Eynon had been together for such a short time, she hadn’t really become a part of his family, and the newcomer, with her more outgoing ways, had succeeded where she had failed. The children helped: Marged and Huw loved children and patiently won the four-year-old Walter over, until he chattered away happily. Dolly, almost two, was a delight.
Alice looked around her two sparsely furnished rooms and felt renewed anxiety about Eynon’s return. The fear that he had changed was always there but, looking at the rooms she had furnished, she knew she had to do something to make them more inviting. At present they were a stage set, waiting for the actors to walk in and start to bring it alive.
She talked to Hannah often about Johnny’s return and her anxieties, knowing that for Hannah, the problems were less acute.
‘I do worry about the first impression I give,’ Hannah said, ‘and whether Josie and Marie will still feel the same way about him. But I am sure of my love and I can’t imagine that Johnny would have changed so much that he won’t want to return to how things were. We won’t have changed. That’s the important thing. The thought that’s kept them strong when they faced dangers and injuries is knowing we’re still here, just the same as when they left, keeping a place for them to slip back into without any readjustments. That’s what Johnny and your Eynon will be hoping for.’
‘That’s one of my worries, Hannah. I’m not the same. I’m nothing like the shy girl Eynon left behind. Working with other girls, going out and having fun, these were things I didn’t have confidence for. He’ll look at me and see a stranger.’
* * *
Unable to contain herself any longer, Lilly asked her husband what arrangements he had made for the return of his son.
‘How will he find us? Have you left a message with anyone, our ex-neighbours?’ she asked. ‘You say you haven’t told him in your letters, so how will he find us, and more important, where will he sleep? There’s no room here.’
‘Not for both of us, certainly,’ Sam replied and the way the words were spoken startled her. Was he implying that Lilly had a choice?
‘He’s your son, Sam, dear. You ought to arrange something for him. He can’t sleep on the railway station, can he?’ She attempted a laugh.
‘Do you have any ideas? Is there anywhere you would suggest? Like in our bed?’ He stared at her then and she felt his accusation chill her.
‘Hardly, Sam, dear.’ She tried again to laugh. ‘There’s only room in my life for one man, and that’s you. Don’t worry, there’ll be a room he can rent somewhere. He’s a grown man, isn’t he? Old enough to help himself.’ She was unaware of the irony of her remark, but Sam stared at her and said, ‘Oh yes, he can certainly do that.’
Lilly went to see Netta as soon as she could leave without appearing to be in too much of a hurry. ‘He knows, Netta,’ she said breathlessly as she burst into her parents’ beach café and found her friend on her own. ‘I’m sure Sam knows.’
‘Sh-sh-sh.’ Netta warned. ‘Your Mam’ll be back in a minute, gone down to the beach to collect trays she has and your father’s on the swingboats while Stanley takes a break.’
‘Will you be free in a while? I have to talk to you. I don’t know what to do.’
‘I’ll take a break about three o’clock. Come back and we can have a cup of tea and a chat.’
‘Hello, Lilly,’ her mother said as she re-entered the café from the metal steps from the sand. ‘Where’s our little Phyllis?’
‘I left her with Sam. He’s promised to take her to the park and around the streets to see the decorations. Getting ragged they are now, but she loved to see all the flags and banners.’
‘And there are always a few fresh ones as the men continue to come home. It can’t be much longer before our Eynon and Johnny are demobbed, surely,’ she added with a sigh. ‘Auntie Audrey and Keith have made big huge banners.’
* * *
In a terraced house in Hollis Street a home-made banner over the door shouted its welcome home to Matthew Proudfoot. His children, a boy now seven and his daughter aged twelve, had laboriously painted flowers all over the piece of cardboard, interspersed with the words ‘Welcome Home, Dad’, ‘Welcome Home, Matthew’ and ‘Welcome Home, Uncle Matt’ that now hung over the front porch.
Inside the house, his wife had prepared a meal. Cakes, covered with dishes to stop them from drying up, and a tin of fruit with accompanying tinned cream stood waiting for his arrival, the tin opener ready beside them. In a frying pan, sausages sat waiting to be cooked.
Matthew hadn’t been able to tell them exactly when he would be ho
me but they had been waiting since early morning, the children unwilling to go out to play or enjoy their Saturday-morning film show.
Matthew walked slowly from the station. His wounded leg made it impossible to hurry, the scars on his body and face pulled painfully. How would they react when they saw him? He delayed longer by going into a café and, in a large mirror on the wall behind the counter, he saw his reflection and he stared at himself, sadness in his dark-brown eyes, the droop of his shoulders telling of weariness and almost despair.
‘A cup of tea?’ Audrey asked.
‘Thank you,’ he replied.
‘Just on your way home, are you?’
‘Yes,’ he said as he dropped his bag and sank into a chair. ‘And it isn’t going to be easy, looking like this.’
‘Nonsense,’ she said softly. ‘They’ll look into your eyes and see the man they remembered. If you have children, they’re bound to be curious at first, but if you can cope with their staring, within days they’ll forget the scars and see only their father.’ She brought him a cup of tea and added a cake, refusing payment on either. ‘Welcome home,’ she said softly.
Matthew sat there for a long time, looking around at the customers, mostly shoppers at this time of the afternoon, and he was pained by the way they quickly looked away, afraid to catch his eye, wanting to examine his damaged face without being seen. It was going to be like this for a long time. Perhaps for always. He waved his thanks to Audrey, who called, ‘Enjoy your homecoming. I hope you’ll be thoroughly spoilt.’