‘I’m not saying,’ Rhodri said, touching his nose as though holding back a secret.
‘This mustn’t happen again,’ she warned. ‘If you have a bonfire it has to be when we’re all here so we can make sure it’s safe. If the doctor found out he might not let you stay with us.’
Again Rhodri put a finger to his nose, implying it was their secret.
As spring approached the house and garden were slowly being cleared of neglect. With her skill at decorating, Marie painted walls and woodwork and Geoff repaired a couple of windows that were worn where the paint had fallen away. Neighbours called with small gifts, sometimes a few offerings from their winter gardens, or a few eggs. Some called just for a chat and a cup of tea, friends visited to see the children.
‘The house is friendly and seemed to want to be filled with people,’ Marie told Geoff one day. ‘I know that sounds foolish, but that’s how I feel. There’s a pleasant atmosphere there. People love to call and sit for a while. Old and young find it peaceful.’
Geoff thought the peaceful atmosphere came from her but declined to say so. She was a natural homemaker and wherever she had settled the home she built would have been welcoming and warm with love. He was tempted to wish he could share it but knew the time was not right, perhaps it never would be.
‘And Rhodri?’
‘He’s a bit odd at times but he’s very happy. And he loves the children.’ She didn’t mention the dangerous fire he had created.
‘I see you’ve made a start on the garden,’ he said one day, when he called with some chopped firewood for them. The worst of the neglected plants had been cut down and around the windows, rich earth was showing in semicircles that Marie planned to fill with geraniums with a border of lobelia and alyssum.
‘Like the parks,’ she said disparagingly. ‘I can’t think of how else to fill the beds and give a display all summer. I wish I knew more.’
‘It will be perfect,’ he said, thinking of starting to grow a collection of annuals for her to assure her of a good display. He wasn’t a gardener, but he could see that an interest in growing things would be beneficial to Marie, helping to take her mind away from wondering where Ivor had gone.
She had lost weight, and although she no longer filled her evenings with painting and decorating she was still under a lot of pressure. Taking responsibility for Rhodri was not an easy task. Beside the constant worry about Ivor, there was her job as well as running the home and looking after four other people. It was all taking its toll.
‘Do you fancy coming out one evening?’ Geoff asked at the end of March. ‘There are a few good films on and we could have tea first, or supper afterwards if you like. The boys and Violet will be there to look after Rhodri.’
‘Rhodri can look after himself,’ a voice called, and her father-in-law came into the kitchen smiling. ‘You go, Marie. It’s time you had a little treat. We’ll be fine here.’
Straight from the shop at five thirty Geoff met her and took her to a café for tea. It was as he was helping her on with her coat when they stood up to leave that his fingers touched her neck as he eased her hair from her collar, and she felt a moment of guilty pleasure that ruined the evening.
She sat as far away from him as possible, stretching once or twice to accept one of the sweets he had brought, and when the film ended she stood up quickly and pushed her way out, putting several people between them, creating a distance as though imagining Ivor standing there watching her.
‘Did you enjoy it?’ Geoff asked anxiously. ‘I hope so. I thought we might do it again some time.’
‘Sorry. Geoff, but I feel like a traitor enjoying myself, not knowing how Ivor is living. Does that make any sense?’
‘Of course it does. Next time we’ll take Violet as well, shall we?’
He was so kind and understanding and she wanted to hug him and tell him so, but that would have been worse than sitting close to share his sweets and enjoying the experience. She knew that given different circumstances she would have enjoyed the evening, cuddling up to Geoff, glorying in his devotion and strength. The tantalizing promise of his love was there, but she was bound to Ivor, who had left her to cope alone. Why was her life such a mess, while Jennie sailed through smiling, enjoying herself, being forgiven for any stupidity or unkindness?
Jennie had confided in her and described the distressing date with Bill, although she didn’t tell her sister of his accusations. She had told her about the revival of her friendship with his father, which seemed to offer Jennie a life of wealth, comfort, position and even more pampering. We must have been born under different stars, Marie thought as she climbed the stairs to her lonely bed.
Six
Jennie and Lucy went back to their parents. Lucy was rather disappointed – having been treating the flat-sharing as a practice for when she ran a home for her husband – but eventually she gave in to Jennie’s persuasions not to look for somewhere else to practice their independence.
‘What worries me, Luce,’ Jennie confessed, as they gathered the last of their possessions into boxes, watched by a suspicious landlady ‘is I often think of getting married one day and having a home of my own, but after a few weeks here I can’t see me managing to look after it. I’d hate all that routine of boring jobs Mam has to do. I’ll have to find someone very rich.’
‘I wouldn’t worry, most people start in two rooms, like Gerald and I will, or sometimes sharing the house with your parents. There won’t be much to do, not until you move into something bigger, when you have a child.’
‘A child?’ Jennie gave a shuddering sigh, the prospect clearly horrifying. ‘Oh, I don’t think I could cope with a child. Our Marie’s three are enough to put me off motherhood.’
‘You’ll be lucky to find someone who’s rich and doesn’t want to start building a family.’
‘A family? You mean more than one?’ She exaggerated the look of horror on her face. ‘That’s it, I’ll stay fancy free for ever.’
‘We’re heading for the dreaded thirty now, mind,’ Lucy warned, trying to hide a smile. ‘And the fancy-free bit doesn’t last much longer than this. I’ll be glad to marry Gerald.’
‘And have children?’ Jennie was still pulling faces to make her friend laugh but Lucy remained serious.
‘Oh yes, if it isn’t too late. One or two. There’s no point in anything unless there are children.’
‘Who told you that yarn?’ Jennie shook her finger. ‘Blackmail, that’s what that is. Or a great big confidence trick, like someone bathing in the sea, blue all over, shivering fit to fall to pieces and saying “It’s lovely, you must come in!”’
Jennie rarely mentioned the prospect of Lucy marrying her Gerald. Apart from Lucy’s visits to his parents and an occasional letter, there was no evidence he was ever going to name the day. Lucy had been waiting for him to decide for six years. She saw the unhappiness in her friend’s eyes and regretted her remarks. A mention of children was something to avoid in future, even in jest.
A taxi came to take them to their separate homes and they both looked back with dismay at the failure of their brief flight to freedom. Lucy was dropped off first and she paid her share of the taxi, then Jennie began to work up sobs and a tearful countenance, ready to be greeted by her mother’s open arms. The taxi driver saw her and turned slightly to ask, ‘Is there something wrong, miss?’
‘No, there isn’t!’ she snapped, with no sign of the tearful performance she was preparing. ‘Mind your business and keep your eyes on the road, why don’t you!’
It was seven o’clock on a Friday evening, and to her dismay she saw her sister standing beside her mother when the door opened. Disapproval was a constant feature of Marie’s face these days, she thought. Behind them her father waved a welcome. She grabbed her shoulder bag and ran past them indoors, tears in her eyes and distress on her face, her mother following, leaving Marie and her father to bring in the rest of the boxes and pay the driver.
‘Jennie, love?’ her f
ather called, as he walked into the hallway, where a sad Belle was staring up the stairs.
‘Leave her a minute or two.’ Belle said. ‘Upset she is, anyone can see that. She was so enjoying having a place of her own.’
Marie said nothing.
When Jennie had calmed down from her self-imposed tearful state, she sat warming her hands on the cup of tea Marie had made and said sadly. ‘I feel so let down by Lucy, Mam. We were doing fine but she wanted to go back where she could save a bit more money ready for her wedding to boring old Gerald.’
‘It wasn’t that looking after yourself was too much for you?’ Marie said innocently, unable to resist some gentle teasing. ‘I thought it was you who’d had enough.’
‘Hush, Marie.’ Belle scolded. ‘Lucy would say that.’ She patted Jennie’s arm, glared at Marie and went out to attend to the meal.
‘’Specially if it were true!’ Marie muttered, grinning at Jennie. Their parents came back having dealt with the meal and stored the boxes of Jennie’s belongings in her room, and Marie said soothingly, ‘Mam and Dad are so pleased to have you back and I’m sure it’s for the best, Jennie.’ Playing Jennie’s game was a way of life. She caught her sister’s eye and saw laughter there. Marie was smiling as she went home to her family.
Although it was a relief to settle back into the comfort of home, Jennie knew she had to do something to get away, before she was trapped into the situation she had always dreaded, that of being the dutiful daughter staying home and looking after Mam and Dad for the rest of their life and most of her own.
Bill James would have been no great catch, working on the railway and with no ambition to rise higher than a ticket clerk. Who did he think he was, treating her so badly? She had convinced herself she’d had a lucky escape, although she was still hurt at the way he had humiliated her. Being Jennie, she tried to plan a revenge in which humour was stronger than resentment. She needed to do something to give herself and Lucy a good laugh.
If she could find someone both good looking and rich she’d make him jealous and it would be she having the last laugh if he recognized what he’d missed. He’d regret reducing her to a terrified wreck with his demands and accusations.
‘Who do we know who’s handsome and rich, Lucy?’ she asked her friend the following morning as they left two clients under the dryers and had a few moments to drink a cup of tea. Lucy’s eyes twinkled as she nodded towards the street door, which, on cue, opened to allow their boss to enter.
‘Is everything all right?’ he asked as Jennie spluttered over her tea, trying to subdue her laughter. ‘Not upset about anything, are you?’
Calming herself she said, ‘No, we’re trying to cheer ourselves up after leaving the flat. As I told you, I’m worried about Mam and Dad. They’re getting on a bit, see, and Mam hurting her arm and, well, I felt it was my duty to stay. Just till they’re feeling better. I let Lucy down but she understands that I have to think of my parents, don’t you, Luce?’
‘Very commendable,’ he said and when he’d disappeared into the house, Jennie mimicked him. ‘“Very commendable!” There’s a way to talk! Not “There’s kind,” but, “Very commendable.” What a stuffed shirt.’
They hissed a warning as the door to the house reopened and Mr James came back. ‘Jennie, when you have a moment, I’d like a word.’
‘Yes, Mr James.’ Then in a whisper, ‘See? There he goes again. He’d like a word, not, “Will you pop in for a moment,” like a normal person would say.’
‘I wonder what he wants?’ Lucy said. ‘I hope he isn’t closing the business.’
‘It’ll be nothing exciting, that’s for sure.’ She posed dramatically, and said, ‘My life is devoid of excitement, Miss Jones. What do you recommend I do to change it?’ She giggled. ‘There, did I sound like him?’
Behind the door, Ernie James listened, and chuckled with them. She was a real livewire, that Jennie.
Jennie waited until the shop closed at half past five before she knocked on the dividing door and went to see Mr James. He was sitting in shirtsleeves, working on some papers, and he closed his fountain pen and placed it carefully on his desk as she approached.
‘You wanted to see me?’ she said.
‘Yes, that’s right, I wanted you to “pop in”.’ He was smiling and she guessed that he had overheard some of their conversation. She sat on an armchair and waited for him to explain what he wanted. If he thought she was going to apologize he was very mistaken.
He reached into a drawer of his desk and brought out two tickets. ‘I was given these. It’s a variety concert in Cardiff. I wondered whether you fancied going.’ She looked at him wide eyed. Surely he didn’t mean with him? If only he’d mentioned the date so she could offer a genuine-sounding excuse to decline ‘There are two,’ Mr James added, ‘and I thought you and Lucy might like to go. Perhaps your sister would stay with your parents.’
Relieved, she stood up, thanked him and was about to take the tickets when Bill came in.
‘What’s this, secret assignations with the workers? The shop is closed, isn’t it?’ His father looked angry and Jennie felt a need to hurt his son. She turned back to Mr James. ‘I’d love to go with you. I’m really looking forward to it. Thank you for inviting me.’ Without giving the surprised man or his son a moment to recover, she left.
They hadn’t been anywhere together since their visit to Swansea. He had invited her but she had refused. He had obviously taken her refusals to heart and now she had invited herself.
She regretted her stupidity immediately but felt there was no way of getting out of it. Surely Mr James would find a way. Invent some previous engagement that made him unable to go with her. The evening was less than a week away and, as the days passed and nothing was said she began to consider various illnesses as an excuse to get out of going.
‘What can I do?’ she wailed. ‘What if Bill gets nasty and tells his father stories about us?’
‘Something contagious is best, spots on your face, or a runny nose, put rouge on it to make it look sore,’ Lucy advised unsympathetically, making fun of her friend’s dilemma.
Jennie made no further reference to the plan but found herself making cheeky remarks to customers when she knew Mr James was listening. Watching him smile gave her enjoyment and made her feel smart and worldly. She said little to Lucy; the expected derisory comments would have spoilt her growing anticipation of a pleasant evening.
On Saturdays they worked until one o’clock but they stayed on so they could set each other’s hair. Lucy took even more care than usual over Jennie’s bleached curls. ‘There’s no escape,’ she teased. ‘You’re going to the theatre with your boss. An old, old man.’
As an added treat, making matters worse, Mr James invited her to have a meal with him first. She hoped it would be at the smart café where they sold her favourite spicy buns, but this wasn’t to be a simple tea; he was taking her out to “dine”. He showed her the menu for the evening meals and rather nervously she copied his choice and ordered a dish of lasagne, wondering what it would be as it was something she’d never heard of.
The dish of vegetables and a small amount of minced meat in pasta was tasty and, to her relief, something easy to eat. She had dreaded bones, or gristle, knowing she’d embarrass herself. She was used to eating out, but after the brief flirtation with his son, sitting with this man who was her boss, and just about old enough to be her father, made her nervous and she wondered how she would get through the evening. Swansea had been different, relaxed and comfortable. She wondered what had changed.
The variety show was the usual mixture of song and dance acts, conjurers and illusionists. Although she initially felt some unease sitting next to Mr James, and trying to ignore the double entendre from some of the sauciest comedians, the evening was enjoyable. They were soon sharing glances, both glad to share the laughter or the admiration for a performer’s skill. The mutual pleasure added to the entertainment in a way it hadn’t with anyone else. The stag
e worked its magic and by the first interval she was relaxed and talking to Mr James as easily as to any of her friends.
He drove her home talking about the various acts, laughing at the remembered jokes, and as they reached Rock Terrace he went quiet, then embarrassed her by telling her in his pompous manner that he couldn’t remember enjoying an evening more. If he had been one of her usual boyfriends she’d have been able to think of a cheeky retort and lighten the sudden formality into laughter, but she couldn’t think of anything to say except a muttered and ungrammatical ‘me too’.
He unnerved her further by jumping out and opening the car door for her. She pushed open the gate and ran up the path without looking back.
‘Did you enjoy your evening, dear?’ her mother asked.
‘It was all right,’ she replied casually, but she knew it had been more than just all right; she had enjoyed his gentlemanly attentions far more than she’d expected. Everything had changed. She had developed a warmth, an affection for him.
There was flattery in his concern for her comfort and pleasure, and she felt a flush of embarrassment for her earlier self and knew that in some inexplicable way the evening had changed her life. From now on she would be looking for something very different from her usual companions. Sadness enveloped her as she wondered whether she would be able to find it.
*
Ivor had remembered to collect his identity card and ration book when he left the home he had shared with Marie for so short a time. He presented the ration book when he had found a place to stay, dealing with the change of address at the local office. He’d found a room in a lodging house where the landlady provided a breakfast and what she called supper at nine thirty. Three other lodgers appeared at these mealtimes, two young men who worked on the council ash carts, who slipped in through the back entrance and went in turns straight to the bathroom, from where they would emerge shining clean and neatly dressed. Ivor was amused to notice that they took it in turns to be first, the other sitting patiently on a wooden stool outside the bathroom door.
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