* * *
Harriet still refused to consider having Lillian as a companion. One morning, as she was setting off for the factory, Charlotte pleaded with her to at least consider it.
“Honestly, Charlotte! What conversation would there be? She’d gawp at me, only understanding half of what I said, even if I spoke to her like a child of four! I need someone to talk to not talk at!”
Charlotte didn’t altogether agree, but she was determined to continue working at Russells. “Give it a try,” she pleaded. “Just a week or so to see how you get on. The baby will be with her,” she coaxed.
“There you are then!” Harriet said with satisfaction. “That’s what you want me to do, look after that child and give her a chance in life. You weren’t thinking of me at all!”
“No one could care for her better than you,” Charlotte said. “And think how much poor Lillian would benefit, living here with you.”
“You can forget the whole thing and please don’t mention it again. Your father will be staying and the household is large enough as it is. I won’t have time for Lillian and Danielle, not with your father and his children.”
“Mam, Dadda’s been looking at a cottage further along the river, past Bertha’s and Bessie’s.”
“Rubbish!” Harriet glared at her daughter. “Your father is staying here, at Mill House. He needs me to help him and how can I help if he moves all the way out there? Use your brains, girl!”
“You have to face it Mam,” Charlotte insisted. “Dadda, Miranda and the others, they’re moving out, and soon.”
“What if he does?” Harriet spoke bravely, although she was trembling inside. “There’s still you and Rhoda.”
“I think Rhoda will marry Ned. And as for me, well, perhaps I won’t marry now, but I’ll be out all day. You’ll be lonely Mam.”
“Stop fussing over things that might not happen. I’ve never known such a one for looking on the black side!”
One lunchtime, Charlotte cycled to Vi and Willie’s café.
Joe was there and as he was about to begin his beans on toast, he invited her to join him. “You’ll have to hurry, mind,” he warned. “They’ll be closing at one.”
She ate the beans on toast and accepted Joe’s invitation to have a cup of tea at the shop. Before they reached the Cycle and Motor Spares, they saw Willie, his white apron tucked up across his middle, followed by Vi, darting through the traffic, arguing, shouting instructions and eventually pushing their way into the crowded restaurant where they regularly ate.
Joe took his notice off the door and they went into the small kitchen. Joe filled the kettle; Charlotte set out the cups and all the time they were aware of each other so the very air crackled. Charlotte was at the back of the room looking out into the rain-misted yard, while the kettle began to sing and Joe came to stand behind her.
“When are you coming back to me, my pretty?”
“Joe, I’ve never really left you,” she whispered.
He turned her to face him and kissed her gently, with such tenderness that she felt tears seeping from under her eyelids and running down her cheeks.
“Oh, Joe, how I’ve missed you,” she said, as she curled into his welcoming arms.
“Not half as much as I’ve missed you, my pretty. Let’s put that ol’ notice back and spend ten minutes saying how much we love each other, shall we?”
The notice was up for an hour and at the end of it, Charlotte was still anxiously telling Joe he was not to consider himself second-best.
“Wasn’t it ever good between you and Danny?” he asked. “It won’t make any difference to the way I feel about you, nothing ever could. I’d just like to know.”
“He was different, like abreath of fresh air, and a lot of fun. He flattered me and made me feel special, but although I was happy in his company, something held me back.”
“He didn’t make your heart swell with happiness like you make mine?”
“Something held down the strings and stopped it singing.” She stared at him earnestly, wanting him to believe. “You were never long out of my thoughts and the attraction for Danny was a brief and foolish thing. Don’t think you’re second choice, Joe Llewellyn. That was how Dadda felt all through his marriage. It was never like that with me. I thought you’d left me for ever, and Danny seemed so set on marrying me I didn’t know how to tell him I didn’t love him and never could. I know it was cowardly. And all the time there was Mam demanding my time, and Dadda with his new family. My own feelings were pushed into the background. There was no time to think clearly about what I wanted – and –”
“It’s all right, my pretty… I’ve been here all the time, patiently waiting for you to remember where you belong.” He looked at her seriously and said firmly. “I know how hard it was for you to hurt Danny. I know how you hate defying the Dragon. But, don’t you see, I’m the one who cares for you. I should have been the one you couldn’t hurt. Don’t put anyone before us again, will you?”
“Sorry, Joe, I’ve been so weak.”
“I knew you’d eventually realise what Danny was like and I’ve put up with your mam hating me for so long that her opinion doesn’t matter. I’ve been waiting for you, willing you to come and terrified that you wouldn’t.”
“Why does Mam hate you so much?” she asked.
“You mean you don’t know?”
“You mean you do?”
“It’s to do with your father being second choice. It’s true, he really was. Your mam was engaged to my father, Joseph Llewellyn, local dance hall owner and wealthy entxepeneur – or at least until the police caught up with him! He came to her one day and told her he’d been seeing someone else and as she was expecting a child he had to marry her. He left your mother and married my mother, and they parted a few months after I was born. Your Mam, the Dragon, has always believed that if she hadn’t married on the rebound, and waited, he would have come back and married her. It’s my fault, see. My fault she married your father and not the man she really loved.”
“I never knew!” Charlotte gasped. “Oh poor Dadda!”
“Poor me,” Joe laughed. “She wishes I’d never been born!”
* * *
Rhoda and Ned announced their engagement soon after Joe and Charlotte got together agdn. Harriet could now clearly see the gap Charlotte had warned her about opening up.
“You’ll live here, of course,” she said to Ned when he and Rhoda showed her the engagement ring. Rhoda pouted prettily and looked at Ned.
“Ned wants us to live with his parents,” she said. “in their little house in town, so convenient for people to call in when they want to see Ned, you see.”
When Charlotte told Joe her sister had set a wedding date he said. “Don’t let her upstage us. Come away with me, let’s get married without telling a soul.”
“Joe, we couldn’t!” He looked at her quizzically and she added with a gasp, “Could we?”
“Why not? We’re both of an age where paternal permission isn’t necessary. What about it? We can go now and arrange it for three weeks’ time and tell no one.”
Two days later they had it all arranged. A quiet wedding at the registry office in Barry followed by a brief honeymoon in Tenby.
* * *
Mill House was filled with wedding talk, as Rhoda began her preparations. Quietly, Charlotte made hers. She carried clothes down into town and deposited them in Joe’s shop. Gradually the larder of the flat was filled, ration books surreptitiously prepared for the change of name and address. Extra items of equipment were added to the pieces Joe had already bought and a week before the date, everything was ready. Then, Eric moved his family out of Mill House and Harriet took to her bed and refused to eat.
“Joe, I don’t know what to do,” Charlotte said.
Stiff lipped, Joe asked, “What d’you want to do, my pretty?”
“I can’t leave her like this.”
“Can’t you?”
“Well, Rhoda isn’t much use.”
“Isn’t she?”
Charlotte looked at Joe and saw a steely brightness in his eyes. This was a test of her love and she was failing it.
“If I’m not there—” she began.
“If you’re not there?” questioned Joe warningly.
“If I’m not there – then Rhoda and Mam will have to cope, won’t they.”
“And they will, my lovely girl. They will.” Joe hugged her.
* * *
Two days before the secret wedding, Lillian pushed the pram given to her by Harriet up the steep hill to Mill House. A film of sweat covered her face and the baby was crying when Rhoda opened the door to her.
“Charlotte’s at work and Mam’s in bed,” Rhoda said, trying to close the door. But from upstairs Harriet had been disturbed by the child crying and had gone to the window, hoping it was Eric with young Matthew.
“Let her in, Rhoda. I’ll be down in a minute.” Surprised, Rhoda widened the door and watched as Lillian struggled to get the pram into the hall.
“Silly girl,” Harriet scolded. coming down the stairs in her dressing gown. “You should have left the pram outside.” She picked up the baby, and groaned. “Small wonder she’s crying, poor love, she’s dripping wet!” She soothed the baby and demanded a clean napkin. Lillian handed her a bag of fresh, clean clothes. While Rhoda kept well away, she efficiently removed Danielle’s soaking clothes and, after washing her carefully, re-dressed her, all the time explaining to Lillian how it should be done. The child was dressed cleanly but in clothes that were ill-fitting and well worn. “Is this the only dress she’s got to put on?” she asked. Lillian mumbled about her Mam trying to make one ready for Sunday and the Christening.
When Charlotte returned from work that evening Harriet said. “I’ll have to have that Lillian here, for a while at least. She and Bertha haven’t any idea of how to look after a child. It’s my Christian duty.”
“That’s wonderful Mam,” Charlotte said.
“It won’t be hard, with you here to help.”
Charlotte was on the point of telling her she wouldn’t be there after the following Saturday, but held the words back.
“I’ll go to the Christening, buy her a decent dress to wear. Bertha will have to make me Danielle’s God-mother,” Harriet went on. “I’ll see she’s brought up properly. Your father will help. He’ll be pleased I’ve taken charge,” she added. Charlotte guessed her mother still dreamed of a day when she and her father were together again.
On Saturday morning Harriet over-slept. Charlotte hadn’t called her. “What’s the matter with the girl! Gone to that damned factory again, I expect,” Harriet grumbled as she woke Rhoda.
There was a knock at the door before either of them were dressed and a sleepy Rhoda answered it. “Hello, Lillian, you’d better come in, we aren’t ready to go just yet, and didn’t my mother tell you to meet us in town?”
“Mam says to come here and stay till she comes. Gone out with Auntie Bessie she has. I’m to stay with you and Mrs Russell, for the day,” Lillian said nervously.
Harriet tried to find out where Bertha and Bessie had gone but Lillian seemed not to know. They all walked down the hill to town, Harriet pushing the pram. They passed Joe’s shop and there was a notice on the door. It read:
Gone for more than ten minutes!
Back a week Friday,
September 8th.
“Gone off with his Auntie again, I expect,” Harriet said. “I wonder if Charlotte knows?”
They completed their shopping and delivered Lillian back to her mother. Bertha was goggle-eyed and smelled of sherry. Bessie’s cottage was empty and silent. Puzzled at not knowing where Joe had gone, she wondered if he and Charlotte had argued again. That would explain her daughter’s non appearance at breakfast. She always went to the factory when she was upset.
At ten o’clock, when Charlotte had still not returned and there was no reply at either the shop or the factory, Harriet went to her room to see if her daughter had come in while they were out and gone to bed.
Charlotte’s clothes were gone.
On the pillow was a note.
Sorry Mam, but Joe and I were married this morning at eleven o’clock.
We will be away for a week, then you’ll find us at the flat – our marble hall.
I love you all,
Charlotte.
(That is, Mrs Joe Llewellyn.)
Bessie and Bertha were witnesses and Bessie’s only regret was that they didn’t marry on a Friday so she could spread the news as she made her collections.
* * *
Lillian moved into Mill House and to Harriet’s delight, settled in remarkably well. She was proud to be living in such a beautiful place and soon learned to care for it.
Harriet glowed in Lillian’s admiration and the approval she earned from the town. So far as she was able to be, Harriet was happy.
Joe walked through the beautiful historic town of Tenby in a dream. The sun shone, the sea was an unbelievable blue and worries about Bryn Melinau were far away.
“I don’t think I could be happier,” Charlotte said to Joe on the day they were to leave.
“Don’t you? I have a suggestion that might change your mind.”
She smiled at him. “What can you tell me that would make my life more complete?”
“I’ve had an offer for the business and, if you agree, I want to sell it.”
“Why, when it’s doing so well?”
“One reason is that I miss the kids coming in to have their bikes repaired. The new owers of my old shop don’t want to bother. I’d like to get a shed somewhere and go back to doing that. The other reason is that I’ve been talking to your father and he thinks you and I could work together at Russells Bookbinders and Restorers. He’ll help me get started and, only if you agree mind, I’d invest the money I get from the shop to buy some new equipment and—”
“Joe!”
He was unable to continue, stifled by Charlotte’s hug. “Oh Joe you were right, I could be happier. Joe and Charlotte Llewellyn, together, running their own business! It will be just wonderful.”
“You and me, Charlotte we’ll really make the place hum.”
* * *
Harriet was waiting for Charlotte and Joe at the station, a taxi purring beside her.
“Come on, you two,” she smiled. “Come up to Mill House, Eric and the others are there to welcome you home and wish you well.”
Bessie and Bertha were on the porch, the proud passers-on of the secret wedding plans. Eric and Miranda gave them both an affectionate hug. As they walked into the hallway, voices reached them and they realised to their surprise and delight that half the town was crammed into the house.
“Damn me,” Joe whispered later as they walked back down the hill to their ‘Marble Hall’, “I think your Mam has finally forgiven me.”
First published in the United Kingdom in 1995 by Severn House Publishers Ltd
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Grace Thompson, 1995
The moral right of Grace Thompson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781911591016
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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