Swansea Girls

by Catrin Collier

  ‘He hadn’t told me they had a booking.’ Martin made a resolution to respect Jack’s privacy less and interrogate him more. Perhaps if he’d made it his business to do so a few years back, he might have saved his brother from the disgrace of Borstal.

  ‘There are still tickets left. The girls are going.’ Adam winked at Katie who turned aside.

  ‘Can you get me one?’

  ‘Make it two.’

  ‘Consider it done.’

  ‘We could walk there with you, girls.’ Martin reached for the sugar.

  ‘How about we meet the three of you here about half past seven, have a coffee and go on to the youth club?’ Brian suggested.

  ‘That’s fine by me,’ Martin enunciated carefully lest he slur and Lily suspect he’d been drinking.

  ‘By the three of us, you mean Katie, Judy and me?’ Lily picked up her spoon and dipped it into her strawberry ice cream.

  ‘And Helen,’ Adam added. ‘If she can make it. I heard her mother won’t let her out.’

  ‘What do you think, Katie?’ Lily looked at her friend.

  ‘If it’s all right with Judy, it’s all right by me.’

  Lily noticed that Katie hadn’t responded to Adam’s smile. She also noticed that Adam couldn’t stop looking at her friend.

  ‘Then it’s a date. You’d better eat up, girls, if we’re going to get you home before Norah’s curfew.’

  ‘What a racket,’ Adam complained as a motorbike roared past.

  ‘Idiot deserves to get killed.’ Something made Martin turn around. He was too late. It was already out of sight. The uneasy feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. Jack wouldn’t be such an idiot as to drive flat out down St Helen’s Road, especially after drinking two pints of beer earlier. Would he?

  ‘Sandwiches and gin. I thought you didn’t drink.’ Jack joined Helen on the sofa in the basement.

  ‘I stole it from my father’s cabinet so I’ll have to replace it. I was hoping you’d buy a bottle for me. I have the money.’ She opened her purse.

  ‘Give it to me later. I’m starving.’

  ‘I’m beginning to think that’s your middle name.’ She felt ridiculously shy with him considering the kisses they’d exchanged the evening before. ‘How’s your mother?’

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘You did see her tonight.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Joe mentioned Lily was going to visit with Katie. Your mother’s not any worse, is she?’

  ‘She’s not good. I suppose you know why she’s in there.’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’d rather not talk about it.’

  Sensing she’d blundered into forbidden ground, Helen picked up the bottle of gin. ‘Want some gin and lemonade?’

  ‘Don’t mind if I do.’

  Taking two tumblers, she poured gin into one of them. Not having a clue how much a normal measure of spirit was, she didn’t stop until the glass was half full and the bottle a quarter empty.

  ‘You’ve never drunk gin before.’

  ‘Is it that obvious?’

  Taking the glass from her, he tipped half the contents into the second tumbler. ‘I suggest we top them up with lemonade and keep topping up, otherwise you’ll be too drunk to stagger upstairs and I’ll never make it back over the wall. Cigarette?’ He opened a packet and offered her one.

  ‘I don’t smoke.’

  ‘You don’t like it?’

  ‘I’ve never tried.’

  ‘Not even round the back of the bike shed when you were twelve?’

  ‘We didn’t have a bike shed at my school.’

  ‘Don’t know what you’re missing.’

  ‘I don’t like the smell and if my mother came down here it would be the first thing she’d pick up on.’ To her relief he closed the packet without removing one.

  Handing her one of the glasses, he lifted the other and touched it to hers. ‘To us.’

  ‘To us.’ Taking a long draught of the gin and lemonade, she smiled at him, waiting for his kiss. She wasn’t disappointed. Taking the glass from her hand, he set it together with his own on the table.

  ‘How about we make ourselves more comfortable?’ Kicking off his shoes, he pushed her back on to the sofa and lay beside her.

  ‘This feels ...’

  ‘Right?’

  His kisses coupled with the gin sent her head swimming. She was conscious of his hands on her face, her neck ...

  ‘That is absolutely enough, Jack Clay!’ Removing his hand from the inside of her dress and the outside of her bra cup, she climbed over him, leaving the sofa and retreating to the door.

  ‘I saw more than your bra last Saturday.’

  ‘Only because my dress was torn.’ Helen fastened the top button on her shirtwaister. ‘And you won’t be seeing any more of me in future.’

  ‘Make a bet on that?’ He grinned.

  ‘Yes.’ She opened the door.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Upstairs.’

  ‘You said your family won’t be home for hours.’

  ‘They won’t.’

  ‘Then come back here.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You afraid?’

  When she didn’t reply he held out her glass. ‘Come on, don’t spoil things.’

  ‘It’s you who spoiled them.’

  ‘By putting my hand on the outside of your iron-padded bra?’

  ‘It’s not iron ...’

  ‘It felt like it. I thought we drank to us.’ Picking up their glasses, he drank half the contents of his own, while offering her hers.

  ‘You trying to get me drunk?’

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never been drunk either,’ he mocked. ‘Face it, Helen, you just don’t know how to enjoy yourself.’

  ‘And you do, I suppose.’

  ‘Better than you by the look of it. What’s the matter, don’t you trust yourself?’

  ‘I don’t trust you.’

  ‘That’s a fine thing for a girl to say to her boyfriend. Surely I don’t have to teach you the facts of life, or do you still think babies are found under gooseberry bushes?’

  ‘Decent people ...’

  ‘I’m not decent people – I’m dangerous, remember.’ He patted the sofa beside him as she finally took her glass from him, but she sat in the chair opposite.

  ‘Haven’t you ever wondered what it’s like to make love?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That’s a fib. Girls talk about it all the time.’

  ‘Only the girls you know.’

  ‘I know you well enough.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’

  ‘I know you wouldn’t let any other boy kiss you the way I just did.’

  ‘I could have another boyfriend,’ she challenged.

  ‘I haven’t bumped into anyone else creeping over your wall.’

  ‘They come late at night when you’re in bed.’

  Leaving the sofa, he knelt in front of her and rested his face on her knees. ‘Would it be so awful for you to admit you like kissing me?’

  She looked into his eyes and felt herself drowning in their depths. ‘No,’ she whispered in a small voice.

  ‘Then how about picking up where we left off.’

  ‘I don’t want to have a baby.’

  ‘There are ways of preventing that.’

  ‘You’ve ...’ Steeling herself to ask the question uppermost in her mind, she blurted, ‘You’ve made love to other girls?’

  ‘Hundreds, and none are pregnant.’

  ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ He slid his hand up her skirt, past her stocking tops, slipping his fingers beneath her suspenders on to her naked thigh.

  ‘Don’t.’ She grabbed his hand, holding it firmly in her own.

  ‘I won’t go all the way.’

  ‘I know you won’t.’

  ‘So, what’s the problem?’ he coaxed, unbuttoning her dress with his free hand. ‘The curtains are pulled, the
door locked, no one will ever know what we’ve done or haven’t.’

  ‘I’ll know.’

  Reaching up with his free hand, he pulled her head down to his and kissed her again. ‘You can’t lose your reputation a second time, Helen, so why not enjoy all that being a bad girl offers.’

  ‘Because ...’

  ‘Because what?’ he murmured, sliding his hand higher.

  ‘I go to night school on Tuesdays and Fridays, but I’m free tomorrow. We could go to the pictures or something,’ Martin suggested diffidently to Lily as they rounded the corner from Craddock Street into Carlton Terrace.

  ‘I’d like to, Martin, but I’m going out with Joe tomorrow night.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known you were going out with Joe Griffiths.’

  ‘It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or anything; we’ve only been out together once. We’re just friends.’

  For the first time Martin found himself wondering whether Lily was as artless as she appeared, or a scheming little flirt out to get two men circling round her.

  ‘I’ll be seeing you on Saturday,’ she continued brightly when he didn’t reply.

  ‘Yes.’

  Taken aback by his brusqueness, she looked ahead to where Katie was walking with Adam. He reached for her hand, but Katie either didn’t see it or deliberately walked away.

  “Night, girls, don’t forget to mention Saturday to Judy.’ Brian dashed down the steps to his door.

  ‘We won’t,’ Lily assured, as Martin followed him without looking back at her.

  ‘See you, Adam.’ Katie ran to the door, reaching it before Lily, leaving Adam to look after her with a wistful expression that reminded Lily of the abandoned dogs in the animal shelter in Singleton Park.

  ‘You annoyed Angie by pushing off the way you did on Monday night.’ Robin drew back his cue, balanced it carefully between his index finger and thumb, and pitched it forward, sending the balls scattering over the table.

  ‘I had work to do.’

  ‘Pull the other one.’

  ‘And an early start in the studio.’ Grinding a cube of chalk over the tip of his cue, Joe studied the position of the balls as he moved to the other side of the table.

  ‘She thinks you’re still upset because she suggested you went your separate ways in the summer.’

  ‘I’m trying to take a shot.’

  ‘Tell me to keep my nose out of your affairs, why don’t you.’

  ‘How about we talk about you and Emily?’ Joe potted the ball he’d been aiming for and smirked triumphantly at Robin.

  ‘We did it.’

  Joe whirled round.

  ‘Last night. In my bedroom before Mums and Pops came home.’

  ‘You and Emily ...’

  ‘Surprised me too, but I sort of got carried away and she went along with it.’

  ‘And if she gets pregnant?’

  ‘Give me credit for some sense.’ Robin patted his pocket. ‘I paid a visit to the barber the moment I sensed which way the wind was blowing there.’

  ‘What’s the barber got to do with it?’

  ‘“And would sir like anything else? Hair preparations, comb, brush ... French letters ...”’

  ‘No barber’s ever offered me those.’

  ‘That’s because you insist on going to your father’s. And for the record, they don’t ask, just offer the extras. It’s up to you to tell them what you want. Here.’ Robin took a small cardboard packet from his shirt pocket and tossed it across the table. ‘Three feather-light ...’

  ‘You don’t have to come out with the advertising spiel. I have seen them before.’

  ‘For a minute, there, you had me wondering.’

  ‘I never thought that a girl like Emily ...’

  ‘A girl like what?’ Robin demanded indignantly.

  ‘A nice girl.’

  ‘Emily is a nice girl. And we’re living in the 1950s, not the 1850s, thank God. Haven’t you heard it’s all right for women to enjoy sex these days – and take it from me, they do, if you push the right buttons.’

  ‘And when she wants to get married?’

  ‘Years from now.’

  ‘Whenever, what’s her husband going to think when he discovers she’s not a virgin?’

  ‘You sound like my mother’s maiden aunt.’

  ‘A girl’s reputation is everything ...’ Joe began hotly, thinking of his sister and Larry.

  ‘As is her sex appeal. And I’ve been enhancing Emily’s every way I know how. I may even end up marrying her myself.’

  ‘And if you don’t?’

  ‘If her future husband has any sense, he’ll be grateful to me for breaking her in.’

  ‘You’re disgusting.’

  ‘God save me from the bourgeoisie and their petty bloody morality.’

  ‘You want us to be as immoral as the select few, so there’ll be more women available for you to practise on.’

  ‘Now you’re telling me I’m an aristocrat!’

  ‘There might not be a title, but look at this place and the way you live.’

  ‘I admit we’re comfortably off. Last time I looked that wasn’t a crime. But you can’t exactly plead poverty either. You go to university the same as me. Your allowance is the same. Your trust fund is bigger ...’

  ‘What do you know about my trust fund?’

  ‘Wake up, Joe, this is Swansea, everyone knows everyone else’s business.’

  ‘So I’m beginning to find out.’

  ‘There’s no need to go into a huff. I’m not the one who did the prying.’

  ‘But you move in circles that do.’ Joe took his next shot, missed the ball and sent his cue skidding across the baize.

  ‘Steady, my father’s only just had this table recovered.’

  ‘And if I bugger it, he’ll just have to re-cover it again, won’t he?’

  ‘What the hell’s got into you?’

  Joe stacked his cue on the stand. ‘I’m surprised a socially acceptable family like yours puts up with their son slumming with the likes of me.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Joe, all I was trying to say is you give more credence to outmoded, archaic rules than me or, fortunately for me, Emily.’

  They stared at one another for a moment. ‘Tantrum over?’ Robin handed Joe back his cue.

  ‘I can’t bear the thought of people discussing me behind my back.’

  ‘They do that wherever you live. And if you don’t want the size of your trust fund talked about, I suggest you have a word with your solicitor. He has a loose mouth, especially after he’s had a few drinks.’ Robin took and missed his next shot.

  ‘That breaches client confidentiality.’

  ‘Now you want to sue your solicitor – take my advice, Joe, vent your frustrations on something else. Preferably shaped like this.’ Resting his cue in the crook of his elbow, Robin sketched a large-bosomed woman in the air with his hands.

  ‘So, what was it like?’ Joe asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the table.

  ‘Gentlemen don’t talk about it. Leastways not when they do it with girls they care about.’

  ‘Then you do care for her.’

  ‘That’s a given. Despite what you think of me for seducing the gorgeous Emily, I may yet marry her ... But not this week.’

  ‘Next?’ Joe enquired caustically, shooting his cue.

  ‘We have known one another most of our lives.’

  ‘But you’ve only just started seeing her.’

  ‘In every sense of the word.’ Robin walked round the table. ‘Girls look good in their underwear but so much better out of it. I even brought up the subject of weddings and we’re agreed neither of us is in a hurry to walk down the aisle. There are too many other things to think about. My career – when it gets started – hers. She’s going to art college with Angie and wants to finish the course even if she never works. And then there’s a house, furniture, so many boring things to settle. We both want to have fun before we start trawling round depart
ment stores and estate agents. She fancies going skiing at Christmas. Her people have friends who have a chalet in Switzerland. If you’re with Angie by then, you could come with us. You know what parents are. They’d be happier at the thought of two girls going off with two boys. It preserves the illusion of single-sex bedrooms and respectability.’

  ‘I have no intention of going out with Angie – or sleeping with her – to suit you and Emily.’

  ‘I thought you were hooked on her or was that some other friend I saw moping around all summer, mooning over his lost love?’

  ‘Leave it out, Robin,’ Joe snapped irritably, childishly pleased when Robin missed his shot.

  ‘Whisky?’ Robin went to the decanter on the sideboard.

  ‘Doesn’t your father ever complain about the amount of his booze you drink?’

  ‘He doesn’t keep a check on it. If he did my mother might realise just how much he drinks all by himself. Keep them,’ Robin said carelessly as Joe tried to hand the pack of French letters back to him. ‘I’ve plenty and you never know when they might come in useful.’

  Concerned lest someone walk in and see the packet lying around, Joe stowed it in his shirt pocket. ‘These aren’t foolproof.’

  ‘They are if you use them properly.’

  ‘That’s not what I’ve heard.’

  ‘You don’t believe that rubbish about the government putting pinholes in one in every dozen to keep up the population.’

  ‘How naive do you think I am?’

  ‘After that outburst earlier I was beginning to wonder. So, you taking Angie out soon, or what?’

  ‘What’s it to you?’

  ‘Nothing, except that she asked me to put in a good word for her. Girls tell one another everything. It’s a bit like follow my leader. Now that Emily’s tried it little sister won’t be far behind and you could be the lucky recipient. If you are, you’re so upright and moral, you’d marry her even if Marilyn Monroe flung herself at your feet the next time you left the house. And that would give me a decent brother-in-law I could get on with, not to mention help me with my career in the BBC.’ Robin stood back and watched Joe line up his next shot.

  ‘You’re talking rot.’

  ‘You’re a high flyer, I’m a plodder. I don’t mind. Pops has the pull to get me into the organisation. Eventually, you’ll be in a position to keep me there.’

  ‘Angie really asked you to talk to me?’