* * *
Despite their rather prim image, the dance classes at Gomer Hall were very popular. Basil and Eleri went whenever they could arrange for Janet and Hywel or Dora to look after Ronnie. Rhiannon was usually there with Jimmy Herbert, Viv and Joan, Frank and Ernie, plus several other friends. Basil’s work as night-watchman meant he had to leave before nine, but if Eleri stayed on, she would be seen safely home by Frank or Viv when the class ended at ten o’clock. Basil didn’t mind her staying. With their second child due around Christmas, he wanted Eleri to have fun while she could.
He knew she missed Rhiannon, having lived with the Lewises throughout her first marriage, and after Lewis-boy’s death, right up to her marriage to him fourteen months ago. They were as much like sisters as Ernie was like his and Frank’s brother.
When they walked into the over-full hall one evening, he saw Rhiannon and at once guessed she was upset.
“Better go and see what’s up, love,” he said to Eleri, nodding in the direction of Rhiannon. “Had a fall-out with young Jimmy I expect.”
“I’ve just told Jimmy I don’t want to go out with him any more,” Rhiannon confided when she and Eleri were alone in the cloakroom.
“I thought you liked him?”
“I do, but not enough. I don’t want us to drift into an engagement and a marriage in a casual way. I like him very much, but I don’t want to spend my life with him.”
“Are you going to stay, or go home? I’ll come with you, shall I?”
“I want to run away and hide, but I won’t. If I mean what I told him, that I want to build a life on my own, then I have to stay don’t I? I have to feel able to come to the dance class without him. I have to accept that I’m no longer one of a couple.”
“Come on, I’ll get Basil to whizz you around the floor a few times, that should shake the blues away. Worse than riding a bad-tempered donkey it is, dancing with my Basil.”
Rhiannon smiled. Basil’s dancing was enthusiastic rather than stylish. She wiped her eyes, added more make-up and followed Eleri back into the throng.
Eleri whispered a word or two to her husband and he came over to Rhiannon. Bending his long, lanky frame into a suitable pose, he began to dance and make her laugh, assuring her without needing to put it into words that whatever happened, she was among friends.
Basil left just before nine and Rhiannon sat with Eleri for the last hour, between dances. She danced once with Jimmy, who put no pressure on her to reconsider, twice with Frank. When the last waltz was announced, she ran quickly into the cloakroom. She didn’t want to sit and watch other couples dancing, looking into each other’s eyes, thinking about the slow walk home with their arms around each other, unaware of the cold night air. Slowly, she dressed ready for the solitary walk home.
With Viv and Joan, she went first to Eleri’s flat in Trellis Street where Janet and Hywel were sitting beside a low fire and listening to the radio. Refusing their offer to walk her the short distance back to Sophie Street, she left them and hurried down Brown Street.
It was dark and in the light from the street lamps there was a suspicion of sleet falling. She hardly noticed the cold, she was on the very edge of tears, wanting to turn around and run to where Jimmy parked his car in the hope of seeing him, and begging him to forget what she had said earlier. She stopped on the dark, cold street and wondered if it represented her future, cold and empty. Had she been a fool?
She might still catch him, the hall wouldn’t yet have emptied and he might have stopped outside to talk. With a stifled sob she turned as she reached Temptations on the corner. “Jimmy,” she whispered. “Please be there.” She began to walk back to the hall.
From the corner, where Temptations stood, someone called to her. She gulped down the sadness that choked in her throat and brushed away tears that filled her eyes. Who could it be? She didn’t want to see a soul. A second call, and she turned to recognise a man and a boy with a dog on a lead. Charlie and Gwyn Bevan.
“Rhiannon, have you seen our pup?” Gwyn called. “Our Dad got her for me. Great, isn’t she?”
“Oh, Gwyn she’s beautiful.” He stopped for them to approach her and smiled at Charlie Bevan. “Good idea for him to have a pet. Our Mam was talking about getting one, but she never did. Now we’re all out all day it wouldn’t be fair.”
“I’ll take him to show her, shall I?” the excited boy suggested.
“Thanks, she’ll like that.” Rhiannon picked up the little dog and buried her face in the silky fur. “I wish we had a pet, they’re company when you’re lonely aren’t they?” Tears slipped then as the word lonely reminded her of her parting from Jimmy.
“Go home and give Polly a drink of milk then put her in her bed,” Charlie said to his son. “I’ll be there now in a minute.”
“Is anything wrong, Miss Lewis?” Charlie asked after his son had scampered across the road. “Can I help?”
“Thanks, but I’m all right. I’ve just—” she hesitated, how could she tell a virtual stranger? Then, because he was almost a stranger and knew none of the facts, it all came out. She told him that she had parted from her boyfriend and that she now wished she could run back and ask him to forget her words. “But I know that giving things another chance would be wrong. Ending it and facing the world on my own is hard but I know it’s the right thing to do, for Jimmy and for me,” she finished.
“Sometimes the hardest things to do turn out to be the most important decisions of your life,” was all he said. He took her arm and guided her to the door of number seven. He didn’t ask for explanations, but walked her to her door and saw her safely inside. “Come and see the pup tomorrow if you have time,” he said when they parted. “That son of mine loves showing her off.”
Rhiannon leaned against the inside of the door. The house was silent. Dora was probably in bed and Viv wasn’t yet back from walking Joan home to Glebe Lane. Without putting on a light, she crept upstairs, scrubbed off her make-up and got into bed. It was done and, thanks to Charlie Bevan, she hadn’t run after Jimmy and started it up again.
* * *
On Saturdays, Weston’s Wallpaper and Paint Store was always busy. Viv left the upstairs office where he dealt with the paperwork and phone calls, to help with sales. Since they now stocked carpets and a few small items of furniture, business was increasing faster than ever. He had always made it a policy to deal with the customers whenever he could, not wanting to be the sort of manager who sits in isolation, cut off from the comments of the people who buy.
Taking over the running of the business after both old man Arfon’s sons-in-law had been sacked, Viv had worked many extra hours to rebuild the business. Now, with Joan, Arfon’s grand-daughter, beside him, Viv thought he could never be happier. Joan, who with her twin, Megan, had once been notorious for rudeness and outrageous behaviour, now listened patiently to the needs of those who called for advice, helped them choose wallpaper and carpets, and, to her own surprise, took a pride in what she did.
One of their earliest customers that Saturday morning was Jack, Joan’s cousin and one of Viv’s closest friends.
“Oh, here he is, one of the big spenders,” Viv teased. “Why do I think you’re on the scrounge? Battered old tins of paint, slightly damaged wallpaper rolls? Is that it, Jack?”
“Yes and this time it’s for us. Victoria and me! We’re buying a house in Gethyn Street. What d’you think of that then? So besides being cheap, it has to please Victoria, right?”
“Bring her in when we close for lunch and we’ll see what we’ve got.”
“Oh, I can’t. Not lunchtime. Got something on,” Jack said evasively. “Will half-five do?”
“Five-thirty it is.”
“Just as well, really,” Viv said to Joan when Jack had gone. “I want to get those orders written out when the shop’s shut.”
“What about lunch?”
“I’ll nip out and buy a pie at The Railwayman’s.” It was late when Viv entered the pub and he was relieved w
hen the barman nodded to his thumbs-up gesture, and served him with a pie and a pint. He didn’t sit in his usual spot where he met with Basil, Ernie, Jack and the others, but found a quiet corner behind the door. Taking out a newspaper he began to read the latest on the Mau-Mau problem in Kenya, and the Vietnam War where the siege of Dien Bien Phu was being fought, and was glad he didn’t wear a uniform. He had been failed on medical grounds. A damaged knee that didn’t bother him but was enough to prevent his being called up to do National Service.
As it was almost time for lunchtime stop-tap, the bar slowly emptied. Looking up from his paper he was surprised to see he was one of only three people left. One of them was Barry Martin. What was he doing there on a Saturday lunchtime, he wondered? With a wife working just down the road he should be having lunch with her, or looking after their little boy.
“What you doing drinking alone, Barry?” he called. “Caroline fed up with you already, is she?”
“I’ve got an appointment in a few minutes,” Barry replied, leaving his beer and hurrying out. Viv frowned. The way Barry scuttled out it seemed all was not well in the Martins’ love-nest.
The lights were switched off, towels thrown across the pumps, and the only other man there drained his glass and left.
Stretching, Viv prepared to leave. Then he heard Jack’s voice and it was coming from behind the bar. Whatever was he up to? Pressing himself into the shadows, he grinned and waited.
The landlord threw off one of the towels and began explaining to Jack the trick of pulling a good foaming pint.
“What’s this then? Left school at last have you?”
“Viv. Silly sod! You gave me a fright. No, I haven’t been sacked, I haven’t resigned, just curious to know how a pint is pulled. That’s all.”
“All right, I don’t want to know if you don’t want to tell. Part-time job is it?”
“I’m going to work in the bar but not for pay. Right? I told you, I’m curious that’s all.”
“Working for nothing? There’s got to be more to it than that,” Viv retorted as he went out.
“Well there isn’t!” Jack shouted after him. “So mind your business! Right?”
* * *
That same lunchtime, Helen Gunner was pushing away the lunch her mother had prepared and glaring at the tablecloth.
“I’m sorry, Helen,” her mother was saying, “but your father and I have discussed it and we have no intention of going to meet the Griffithses. We know enough about them to be sure they aren’t our sort.”
“And to know that we don’t want you mixed up with them either!” Helen’s father, Wilfred, added. Wilfred told Gloria not to invite Ernie but to ignore the situation, convinced that their daughter would soon tire of such a boorish companion. Gloria wasn’t so sure, in fact she had rather looked forward to embarrassing Ernie with her superior knowledge of etiquette. Now, watching her daughter’s face with its combination of anger, determination and pride, she wondered again if they were being wise.
Making a big fuss of putting her untouched meal in the kitchen and putting on her coat, Helen left to return to work in the large grocery shop on the main road. She knew that eating no breakfast and leaving her midday meal, giving the impression that she had eaten nothing since the previous day would worry her parents. She smiled as she bought two sticky buns and went into the park to eat them. She wasn’t worried about their refusal to meet Ernie and visit his family. Mam was a bit above herself but she’d come round. It was the Griffithses she was more concerned for – how would they cope with Mam?
* * *
One Sunday morning early in May, Rhiannon was putting the small joint of meat consisting of three small chops, into the oven for lunch when there was a knock at the door. She opened it to see Charlie and Gwyn, who had the struggling puppy in his arms. She invited them in and called Dora.
“Mam, come and see your visitors.”
“Three pounds seven and fourpence halfpenny,” her mother muttered before putting down the pen and coming out of the kitchen.
“Hello Charlie, Gwyn. And who is this then?”
“Polly,” she was told.
She took the puppy and admired her while the boy stood proudly by. Charlie glanced at Rhiannon and asked quietly, “Feeling better?”
“Thanks, I’m all right.”
Dora went into the kitchen and found some treats for both Gwyn and Polly. Charlie shuffled his feet as if undecided whether or not to speak. “Things can change so suddenly you’d never believe,” he said. “I was beginning to think I’d never escape the mess I’d made of my life, but then I was offered a job.”
“At the Windsor garage, Gwyn told me. That’s wonderful.”
“Dogsbody in a garage – it isn’t much, but it’s a beginning. I’m quite a good mechanic and I hope that once they’ve learnt to trust me, ‘train me up’ as Mr Windsor puts it, I’ll be able to progress to better things.”
“I’m sure you will,” Rhiannon said, smiling.
“It’s the boy, see. He’s the reason I have to succeed.”
They listened to the laughter coming from the kitchen and Rhiannon said, “What better reason could you have than a son, specially one like your Gwyn? He tried so hard to care for old Maggie, didn’t he? Now he needs someone to spoil him a bit.”
“Maggie left some money you know. Only a few pounds plus the rent. She’d saved enough to pay the rent on the house for six months and although I’ve been tempted to borrow from it, I haven’t. She knew how important it would be to have the security of a roof over our heads, if I’m to succeed and stay on the straight. It’s still there and I take strictly the right amount every week. Now I have a job I’ll try to keep it in reserve. Perhaps buy a headstone one day, eh?”
“Maggie was a wise old woman and I think she’d prefer you to spend it on things for the living.”
Gwyn came several times after that to show them the pup and occasionally, when Rhiannon opened the door as he was leaving, she saw Charlie standing at his front door, waiting for his son to return. They would smile and wave to each other and Rhiannon found her smile remained for a long time afterwards.
Charlie had been working at the Windsor Garage for a few weeks when Rhiannon passed on a Wednesday afternoon and saw him there. He was working on a big blue van. “Overhauling the engine and making sure it’s giving its best,” he explained. “I told you I’d be given proper work to do once they knew how good I was,” he grinned, his teeth white in his grease-stained face.
“I’m off for a walk,” she explained. “Perhaps I can take Polly when she’s old enough?”
A car squealed to a stop and the driver pressed the horn irritably. Charlie frowned and Rhiannon looked curiously around. “It’s my father,” she said. “What’s upset him I wonder?”
“Get in, Rhiannon,” Lewis Lewis demanded, as she walked over to see what he wanted.
“I’m going through the fields to Tremanor for a walk, hoping to pick some bluebells, I don’t want a lift home,” she said with a laugh.
“I said get in, or I’ll drag you in!”
“Dad? What’s the matter?” she slid into the passenger seat and was jerked back as he accelerated away.
“He’s the matter. That criminal you were talking to and smiling at. That’s what!”
“Charlie Bevan? I was only asking how the job’s going, Dad. What’s wrong with that?”
“Keep away from him. I’m warning you, Rhiannon. Keep away from him or I’ll speak to him and make sure he stays away from you! Right?”
She sat back in the seat and stared into her lap, counting the flowers in the pattern on her dress. She felt like a child caught in some misdemeanour by an unpleasant schoolteacher. He pulled up outside the house and turned to her.
“You and Jimmy, you aren’t seeing each other any more?”
“That’s right, Dad.”
“Is that Charlie Bevan the reason?”
“Of course not! I’ve hardly spoken to him.”
&nbs
p; “Not what I’ve heard. Calls often doesn’t he?”
“His son does, Gwyn brings the puppy for Mam to see.”
“Oh, well keep clear of him. He’s trouble. Been in and out of prison more times that I can remember.”
“I know. But he’s trying hard to leave that behind him. He deserves a bit of encouragement, doesn’t he?”
“Not if it’s coming from you he doesn’t!”
She stood at the door, her hand on the key, not wanting to go inside, but neither wanting to return to the walk she had planned. Turning round, she went to see Eleri and Basil and baby Ronnie.
It was a while before she realised that all the time she had been with Eleri she had been talking or thinking about Charlie Bevan. Her father’s reaction had made her realise that he was only a few years older than herself, and also that he was far from unattractive.
Approaching Sophie Street once more, she glanced up at the window of the flat above Temptations. The curtains moved and Caroline waved. Barry’s van wasn’t parked nearby, Caroline was on her own again. It seemed impossible that Barry had an appointment every Wednesday afternoon. He had to be avoiding Caroline on her half-day, instead of welcoming the extra hours in her and Joseph’s company.
She waved a beckoning arm and, when the window was opened, called, “Come and have a cup of tea with me. Dad’s just messed up my walk, Mam’s out and I’d be glad of your company.”
“Are you sure?” Caroline hesitated. She was still embarrassed, meeting Rhiannon, aware of how she had taken Barry from her.
They talked mostly about young Joseph, and Eleri and Basil’s baby Ronnie. Laughing at the funny things children do and avoiding mentioning Barry. But although Caroline gave a good imitation of a happy wife and mother, Rhiannon was more and more convinced that Caroline was lonely. Barry was neglecting her.
Caroline’s face was always ready to smile but today there was a strained look around her jaw and a haunting sadness in the lovely brown eyes that made Rhiannon want to hug her and offer words of comfort. Unable to comment, she bent once again to play with Joseph.
Unlocking the Past Page 9