A Welcome in the Valley

by A Welcome in the Valley (retail) (epub)

  They had intended to each make their way home separately. Amy going into town, then, after a few items of shopping, back again on the bus, but it was raining heavily. Thunder and lightning snarled across the sky and Amy was worried about Margaret and Freddy.

  ‘I’ll drive you,’ Harry said. ‘No one will see us in this. We’ll pick up the kids from the bus stop.’ He looked at the thin, summer dress she wore. ‘You can’t stand waiting for a bus in that. It isn’t much of a chance; come on.’ He ran to open the van door and she got in. He drove to town and saw the children easily, huddled in a corner, at the bus stop.

  Oliver was thrilled with the added excitement of riding home in the van. The two younger ones chatted happily, telling Amy and Harry of the film they had seen, and the ice-cream they had bought and eaten, standing in the rain.

  Harry stopped first at Oliver’s house and waited as he ran in, then drove a little further to the shop and helped Amy and Freddy and Margaret out. He held Amy’s hand a moment, and whispered, ‘I love you, Amy,’ then he went home, to Prue and his other life.

  In the shop the following day, Nelly was listening to Oliver telling of his adventures. ‘Pelting down it was, Gran, I’m sure the rain was bouncing back up as fast as it usually comes down! Then Mr Beynon and Mrs Prichard came past in a van and we all climbed into the back and had a ride home. You’d have enjoyed it too, Gran.’

  Prue was in the shop and she exchanged a glance with her sister. Amy guessed that Harry had not mentioned the lift home. She smiled brightly at Prue. ‘I think they enjoyed the ride in the old van more than the films they saw! Just like kids. Buy them a beautiful present and they play with the box.’

  ‘I didn’t know Harry gave you a lift as well, Amy,’ Prue said. ‘I thought the children went on their own.’

  ‘We did, we did,’ Oliver said excitedly.

  Nelly smiled at the way he chatted so easily. So different from the shy boy he had been when he arrived. He’ll soon be a real chatterbox, she thought fondly. Because she was concentrating on the way Oliver was telling about his adventure, she was not really listening to the other conversations. When she did, she heard alarm bells ringing.

  ‘Where did you meet Harry then?’ Prue asked.

  ‘He drove past me as I was running for the bus. It was pelting with rain. He stopped and gave me a lift and when I told him about the kids being in town, he went to find them too. Good like that, your Harry. Near Boots, it was I think,’ Amy added to make the lie more convincing.

  ‘But Harry was in Cardiff. How could he be passing Boots?’

  Amy shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask him where he’d been. Too glad to see him I was.’

  ‘Harry wouldn’t let her walk in all that rain, them bein’ related an’ all,’ Nelly said. ‘Only natural, ’im givin’ ’er a lift, ain’t it? What’s to wonder about that, eh? Nothin’ odd about Harry givin’ ’is sister-in-law a lift that I can see.’ Nelly felt the air crackle and she knew she had said too much. She had over-explained, and revealed the fact that an explanation was necessary.

  She smiled at Prue nervously, and avoided looking at Amy as she sidled out of the shop. ‘See yer tomorrow,’ she said to Oliver. ‘Glad you ’ad a good time, dearie.’ She blew out her breath in a long sigh of pent-up dismay when she stepped outside the shop. She didn’t quite know how, but she had made things worse for Amy and Harry, whose secret she had kept for months.

  Prue waited until the shop was empty, then asked slowly, ‘How long, Amy? How long have you and my husband been lovers?’

  Amy laughed and tried to bluff, but saw it was useless.

  ‘Talk to Harry,’ she said.

  ‘How long?’

  ‘I – I can’t say. You’ll have to talk to Harry,’ Amy said more firmly.

  ‘I think you had better come to the house this evening. We have to discuss this, all of us.’

  ‘I can’t. I don’t want the children involved in this.’

  ‘You should have thought of them before embarking on this sordid affair.’ Prue glared, her eyes slightly reddened with incipient tears. ‘But then, you never did think before you acted, did you, Amy?’

  Amy watched her go, wondering what would happen next. Would Harry stand by all he had promised her? Now the secret was out, there was no need to delay. They could arrange a divorce and start their long awaited life together. The thought gave her less than the joy she had dreamed of, behind it all was the memory of the times when Harry had backed away from the final commitment, and had chosen to leave her.

  * * *

  Prue’s eyes were bright as she walked, head down, across the road and home. Her mouth was trembling as she asked herself, why? What had she done to force Harry to find someone else? And suddenly it was Amy’s fault.

  Amy had always been – loose. She had come back from Yorkshire with Freddy, a little boy who she said was adopted. Amy, who had to have a man, even if he belonged to someone else. Freddy’s father was probably a married man; that was why she had been forced to lie about him. Amy was responsible. Amy had stolen Harry from her own sister. Prue managed to close her door and lock it, before beginning to cry.

  For the rest of the day and the whole of Friday, Prue said nothing. Harry and Amy were on edge, waiting to hear what she would say, wondering what she would do, but nothing happened. Amy waited for Harry to say or do something, but Harry could not bring himself to open the dreaded discussion. He believed Prue capable of sending him to prison, so he waited and said nothing. He went home as usual, and as usual his meal was produced and placed before him without a word. He spent his evenings in his office, and went to bed in the spare room and nothing was said.

  Prue was trying to decide on the best way to punish them. She did not want Harry to go to prison. If he had understood her better, he would have known she would not be able to face the shame. No, better think of a private punishment. On Saturday morning, it came to her.

  ‘I won’t be coming any more on Saturdays, Auntie Prue,’ Freddy told her. ‘I’m starting work for Uncle Harry.’

  ‘Perhaps you are, perhaps you aren’t,’ Prue said.

  The boy looked startled. ‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘There might be. If I’m displeased with you, you won’t start. There are plenty of young boys only too anxious to get the job.’

  ‘But I want it. Uncle Harry promised me…’ Freddy looked at her and frowned. ‘What is it, Auntie Prue? Haven’t upset you, have I? Left something not properly done?’

  ‘There’s a curtain rail I want fixing in the spare bedroom.’ She went to the stairs, and kicking off his heavy, mud-caked shoes, Freddy followed.

  ‘Sure, I’ll do that for you. Uncle Harry showed me once how to fix screws in the wall and—’ He stopped, puzzled when Prue closed the door and began to un-button her dress.

  The buttons went from the neck to the hem and underneath she was wearing a slip, and a bra, in pink satin. Slipping the straps from her shoulders she wriggled and allowed them to fall. The French knickers bought to please Harry, needed only the opening of a button and they too joined the rest of her clothes.

  Shock registered on Freddy’s face and he did not move. Prue saw sweat burst out on his face, the blue eyes widen and show a large amount of white. She tried to smile but there was a throb in her cheek as a nervous tic developed. Then Freddy smiled too and she knew it was going to be all right.

  She opened her arms to him and he stepped towards her with a gasp. Speechless, he began to groan his pleasure and the sound was enough for Prue. Inexpert as she was, and clumsy in her attempts to give him what he wanted, to the completely innocent boy, her movements were electric. He was ready for her, wanting her, desiring her and making her feel like a woman again. Wrapped in the pleasure of it she forgot for a moment who he was and what she was doing.

  Afterwards, she sat on the side of the bed and watched Freddy dress. He stood facing away from her confused and alarmed by what had happened. He bent down, hun
ching his broad shoulders, and she watched with guilty pleasure as the muscles in his strong thighs moved. His buttocks were small and the only part that made him seem younger than the man he was.

  She was confused as she sat, wrapped in a dressing gown, modesty quickly returning, and waiting for Freddy to fix his jacket. She hadn’t thought it through; what should she say? They both waited for the other to speak. Slowly he raised his eyes to her face. ‘Auntie Prue,’ he began painfully. Compassion came then and she stood and hugged him, stroked his hair.

  This time he did not hold her like a lover, but hid his head low on her shoulder. She patted his broad back and whispered, ‘Next Saturday, as usual, Freddy?’

  He kissed her awkwardly and stumbled from the room. Outside the house, he ran, past his house, on along the road leading to town, until he couldn’t take another step; then he sat at the side of the road for a long time just watching the traffic. Being young, it was hunger that finally persuaded him to go home.

  Prue washed her body in the bathroom, puritanical disgust returning. She re-made the bed on which Harry usually slept but did not change the sheets. Part of the revenge was using Harry’s bed for the seduction of his mistress’s son. She lay on her own bed and slept.

  Prue woke with a wonderful feeling of well-being, and her resolution that it would be the first and last time faded. Her longing for Freddy’s loving increased as the days went by and Saturday seemed a long time coming. She watched from the window anxiously, afraid he would not arrive, but he came, and after a wave towards the window where she stood, he began his work. With hands that shook slightly, she began setting out the cups for his coffee break.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nelly was playing some of her Donald Peers records when the dogs barked and warned her there was someone coming. She went up the path to greet Phil Davies, who waved a letter at her, and slipped on wet leaves and fell heavily on the rough, stone edge of the ash path. Phil dropped his bag and ran to help her up. She groaned a bit and complained of a bruised hip.

  ‘Seems to give out now and then,’ she said, as he helped her to the old wooden chair beside her door. ‘Don’t tell Evie that, though.’

  ‘Not a word,’ he said. ‘Make you a cup of tea, shall I?’

  ‘Yes, and bring out the cakes I got coolin’ why don’t yer?’

  When they were settled with their drinks and the plate full of cakes, Phil passed on all the news. He rubbed his nose and hesitated before saying, ‘Shouldn’t say this of course, but – Johnny and Fay seem to be having a few problems. She’s out walking all hours she is. I see her, getting up for work early like I do. She isn’t meeting someone is she?’

  ‘Not without Johnny knowin’ about it!’ Nelly snapped. ‘An’ I don’t want you sayin’ nothin’ different, Phil Davies!’

  ‘I only thought, seeing her walking about the fields last thing at night and early in the mornings like, that she must have been having rows or something. Not right, is it, for them to have to share with Johnny’s family. Can’t have a good row and finish with it.’

  ‘They don’t need no rows,’ Nelly insisted. ‘But she ain’t got enough to do even if she does work all the hours Gawd sends. Used to ’avin’ an ’ouse to see to, Fay is. Finds it ’ard to sit an’ do nothin’ so she walks. And that’s all!’

  ‘Yes, like I said, it’s living in that house with Netta and all the rest. Not right for a young couple.’

  ‘Where did you and Catrin start then, Buckin’am Palace was it?’

  ‘Mam’s front room,’ he laughed. ‘Still, Fay’s a bit above that now, isn’t she?’

  ‘Fay an’ Johnny is all right.’

  ‘Yes indeed. Can I have another cake then?’ He took a third cake and rubbed his nose again and leaned forward.

  ‘Funny about your Freddy; saw him coming out of Prue Beynon’s on Saturday doing his boots up, he was in such a hurry to get away. Had the worst of her tongue I bet. Wouldn’t like to work for that one.’

  They were still sitting there when Oliver arrived.

  ‘Heck,’ Phil said, looking at his watch and taking another cake. ‘Late I am. That Prue Beynon will have something to say about you and me, Nelly!’ He tousled Oliver’s straight hair and added, ‘I’ve left a few cakes for you, don’t worry boy.’ He assured himself that Nelly was all right and climbed on his bike and set off to complete his round.

  ‘What’s the matter, Gran?’ Oliver asked, hearing the enquiries from Phil.

  ‘Nothin’ to worry about. I slipped, that’s all. Want a game of darts do yer?’ She stood up, hiding the fact that her hip was painful, and went to fetch the darts and the board.

  Finishing the cakes between throws, they played a game of three hundred and one and Nelly was lagging behind. As she threw each dart, Oliver called out how many she needed, and advised her on the double to aim for. Neither of them saw Timothy watching from the top of the path. Oliver won and they started another game. ‘A short one,’ Nelly pleaded, ‘me leg’s a bit tired.’

  ‘Double seventeen, that’s thirty-four, plus three, that’s thirty-seven, and double three makes forty-three. Take forty-three from seventy-four and that leaves you with thirty-one to get, Gran. Are you tired; you threw them all at the bottom of the board.’

  ‘No I ain’t,’ Nelly said, glaring at him. ‘An’ you ain’t gettin’ out of this game that easy, young Ollie. I’m not beat yet!’

  Oliver laughed and threw two darts.

  ‘Good boy, Ollie. You only want a double three to win. Think you’ll do it with the next dart?’

  Timothy called then and Oliver threw the dart into the door, close to the three he wanted.

  ‘Won’t be a minute,’ Nelly said, aiming her first dart. ‘What’s left fer me to get, Ollie?’

  Oliver looked nervous. He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure, Gran. I can’t remember. You work it out.’

  ‘Needs a double eleven, I do.’ She turned to Timothy who was watching the board. ‘Go on in an’ make a cuppa tea, why don’t yer?’

  ‘Good idea.’ Timothy disappeared into the cottage and Nelly and Oliver finished their game. ‘Who won?’ Timothy asked when he came out with the re-filled teapot.

  ‘’E did! I taught ’im the game an’ now I ’aven’t won a game fer weeks!’

  ‘Your mother wants you to go shopping with her, Oliver, she’s buying you some new sandals.’

  ‘Goody!’ He put out his hand for his father to take but Timothy said, ‘You go on, son, I’ll follow in a few minutes; your mother’s waiting for you.’

  When Oliver had gone, Timothy said, ‘You’re doing a remarkable job on Oliver, mother-in-law.’

  ‘Go on, I only showed ’im ’ow to play darts.’

  ‘And work out betting slips.’

  ‘Oh Gawd. Evie knows, does she?’

  ‘He still doesn’t do very well at school. Strange isn’t it? He isn’t willing to write things down. Spelling terrifies him and he is so untidy because he’s nervous. Arithmetic too; he shuts off when he’s asked a question, but there’s nothing wrong with his brain.’

  ‘If ’e was a bit slow to start, there’d ’ave bin a lot of teasin’. Ollie’s quiet too, an’ they gets overlooked if the teacher ain’t on the ball. Evie was like that, shy, certain she’d fail an’ look stupid. ’Ates lookin’ stupid, my Evie.’

  ‘I think I’ve pressured him too much, to be honest,’ Timothy admitted.

  ‘Yes you ’ave!’ Nelly was emphatic. ‘An’ Evie too. No doubt.’

  ‘You would have made a good teacher, mother-in-law.’

  Nelly laughed her loud laugh. ‘Go on with yer! Me? Just think what they’d learn from me that would upset their mothers!’

  * * *

  Later that day, Oliver returned and to his delight, arrived at the same time as the tramp, who was carrying three small trout.

  ‘What a surprise,’ Nelly shouted, waving from her chair near the door. She didn’t get up and Oliver asked if her leg was hurting. She shook her head a
nd forced herself to rise.

  ‘I wondered if you would like to go on a picnic,’ the tramp said, and Oliver’s eyes lit up. ‘A real one, with a fire, and fish to cook on it, and a pot of tea without milk but tasting of the fire and the wood.’

  They chose a spot near the stream and George showed Oliver how to wrap the fish in mud and wet newspaper, then place it on the fire to cook. Once everything was underway, Oliver and the dogs played among the trees in the warm sunshine while Nelly and George talked. Nelly’s hip was aching but she tried not to show how thankful she was to find a comfortable place against a tree on a moss-covered bank, or how anxious she was about getting back up.

  ‘There won’t be nothin’ like this when I go an’ live with Evie,’ she said, sipping the tea George handed her.

  ‘Then don’t go.’

  ‘Seems I’ll ’ave to. I ain’t got one good argument left, an’ the doctor’s on Evie’s side now. They say they’ll “take steps”.’

  ‘You can’t be forced to leave your home if you don’t want to, no matter what “steps” they take.’

  Nelly chuckled. ‘Pity I’m not a bit younger, I’d run away with you, George. That’d be a laugh, wouldn’t it? Me, runnin’ away from me own daughter!’

  ‘No, Nelly; don’t run away. Here is where you belong.’ There was a gleam in his eyes and he rubbed his beard thoughtfully.

  ‘Why did you run away, George?’ Nelly waited, but he did not answer immediately and she regretted the question. ‘Sorry. I’m a nosy parker. Shouldn’t ’ave asked.’

  ‘I don’t mind telling you, but it sounds such a weak story. I was unable to cope with a problem that thousands have to face.’ He smiled at her, reassuring her he did not object to her curiosity. ‘I was married and I worked as a book-keeper in a small wholesalers. We lived in a flat near a small park. It was very pleasant. It was a simple life, but I asked for nothing more than to spend my life in the same way.’

  ‘What went wrong?’ Nelly coaxed.