‘Did he want to keep in contact with me?’
‘Yes.’ Joy was taken aback by Judy’s composure. After the arguments of the past few weeks, she’d expected her daughter to show her anger. But no matter what it cost in terms of their relationship, now she had started on the truth she felt it would be a betrayal to tell Judy anything less. ‘I see now that I had no right to keep you apart by telling you he was dead.’
‘Did he write?’
‘To ask for a divorce, to tell me he had other children. You have two half-brothers. The letters are in the house, you can read them for yourself.’
‘Who else knows he isn’t dead?’
‘Roy Williams.’
‘You told ...’
‘Not until the night Norah Evans was buried. Remember, he came round and we were quarrelling because you wanted to go out with Brian and I didn’t want you to. He ...’ Joy brushed her hand over her cheek and was surprised to find it wet. Since Bill had left she’d prided herself on always keeping her emotions firmly under control. ‘... He was angry because I was trying to stop you seeing Brian. I tried to explain why. That part was easy, I didn’t have to tell him about your father’s other women, Roy worked with him before the war and if anything, he knew more than me. He understood that I was afraid for you because Brian is tall, dark, handsome, and a policeman like your father and it would be just as easy for him to be unfaithful, but he wouldn’t leave it there. Roy’s been asking me to marry him for years and he thought I felt the same about him, that being a policeman he was just as likely to stray. He gave me an ultimatum, so I finally explained I couldn’t marry him because I was still married to your father.’
‘What did he say?’
‘That I thought more about what people would say and gossip than I thought of you or him. That we could have married years ago and been a family ... I’ve made a mess of all our lives. Yours – Roy’s – your father’s and mine ...’ Unable to bear the bewilderment – and pain – in Judy’s eyes, Joy went into the salon and opened her handbag. Rummaging for her cigarettes, she found them and lit one. Judy followed her. Summoning her courage, Joy turned and looked her daughter in the eye. ‘You have every right to be angry with me.’
‘I know I do.’
‘Are you?’
‘Not now you’ve explained, and after what Brian put me through; I thought he knew me, what I wanted, that I loved him and ...’
‘He found someone else?’
‘No, he wanted me to marry him and forget about the job in the BBC in London.’
‘You haven’t got it yet.’
‘If I don’t, there’ll be others I can try for. And in the meantime I think you should apply for that divorce and marry Constable Williams before he finds someone else and marries on the rebound.’
‘Judy ...’ As Joy hugged her daughter she realised Judy was crying as much as her. ‘Thank you.’
‘It was always us against the world, Mam, remember. And Brian – all you had to do was explain.’
‘You still would have gone out with him.’
‘Yes, but at least I would have realised why you were so set against him.’
The bell rang as the salon door opened. Releasing Judy, Joy reached for a towel and blotted the tears from her face.
‘We’ll talk more later.’
‘After you’ve seen Constable Williams, and sorted everything out with him.’ Judy reached along the shelves. ‘You’ll need perming solution.’
‘The right strength this time,’ Joy warned.
‘Nice flowers, Katie,’ John observed as he returned to the office.
‘For Mam’s grave. It’s her birthday. I thought I’d go up there after work.’
‘The cemetery closes at six in winter.’
‘I didn’t know.’ Katie bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling.
Confident that Katie was courting Adam Jordan, unsettled by the events of that afternoon and stung by compassion, he succumbed to impulse. ‘I don’t feel much like working, so why don’t I drive you there now.’
‘But, Mr Griffiths ...’
‘Don’t tell me what needs doing, Katie, or I’ll have a guilty conscience.’ He fastened his raincoat. ‘Come on, you could do with some fresh air by the look of you.’
Ten minutes later they were driving through the Hafod in the direction of Morriston. Hands clasped around her knees, Katie stared straight ahead out of the window, embarrassed by thoughts of her behaviour the last time she had been alone in the car with her boss. Whenever she glanced across at him, he seemed stern, remote, and she wondered if he was deliberately being aloof because he was wary of her making a fool of herself again.
John drove into the cemetery and parked close to the crematorium. Pulling a newspaper from his pocket, he switched on the interior light. ‘Take as long as you like, but remember where the car is, it’s going to be dark in another ten minutes or so. And,’ he peered out at the drizzle that was getting heavier by the minute, ‘take my umbrella, it’s bigger than yours.’
‘Yes, Mr Griffiths, thank you.’
Sitting back, he watched her struggle to put up the man-sized umbrella. Seconds later, her slight figure bobbed along the path through the neat rows of headstones to the mounds of newer graves beyond. She looked thin, small and fragile, in total contrast to the cheerful bunch of yellow chrysanthemums she was carrying. His heart went out to her. For the first time in her life she should be free from fear, but given Ernie’s treatment of his family over the years he wondered if it were possible for anyone to give her the safety and security she craved and had so far eluded her in life. Particularly when he considered the warning Roy had given him, that Ernie was due for release in the next few days. She must be concerned that her father would come looking for her and what guarantee could he, Roy, her brothers or anyone else give that he wouldn’t?
He was halfway through an article on an earthquake in Algeria when Katie returned. ‘You weren’t long.’ He turned up the collar on his raincoat. It was thinner and not as warm as his overcoat.
‘I remember you telling me that you go to your family graves to talk to your parents and grandparents, Mr Griffiths, and after Mam was buried and I first saw her grave I thought I’d feel the same way. But I don’t. Mam isn’t really there, she is with me all the time and I don’t have to go to one special place to talk to her. It’s not that I’m ungrateful,’ she added quickly, lest he think her unappreciative. ‘And I really wanted to put the chrysanthemums on her grave to brighten it up.’
‘I’m sure they will, Katie.’ He turned on the windscreen wipers as hailstones began to hurtle earthwards.
‘Not for long in this.’
‘Your Mam will be grateful that you thought of her, Katie.’
‘You understand everything, don’t you, Mr Griffiths?’
John was glad of the thickening darkness so she couldn’t see the expression on his face.
‘I saw a five in your window and, as I’m never home until six, I thought it might mean you’re missing me more than usual.’ Still in his working clothes of plaster and paint-spattered jeans and sweater that was more hole than wool, Jack fell on to the sofa alongside Helen.
‘I didn’t go to work today.’
‘Lucky you, I wish I could skive off on full pay. But in my business, no work no money.’ And he viewed the empty table. ‘No sandwiches.’
‘Is that all you come here for,’ she snapped. ‘The sandwiches.’
‘You know it isn’t.’
‘I don’t know anything.’
‘You trying to pick a fight?’
‘No, to find out whether you love me or not.’
‘You know I do.’ He put a grubby hand around her shoulders and hugged her.
‘You never say it.’
‘But I show it,’ he grinned, his teeth whiter than white against his grimy face.
‘How much?’
‘What?’
‘How much do you love me?’
‘This mu
ch.’ Putting his thumb and forefinger about two inches apart he waved them in front of her eyes.
‘Is that a lot?’
‘Why you asking?’
‘Because I’m having your baby.’
‘You can’t be.’
‘I think it happened that first time, the day your mother died.’
‘You’re serious ...’
‘Of course, I’m serious. You think I’d joke about something like this? What are we going to do, Jack?’ she asked in a small voice, terrified of his answer.
Releasing her, he sat forward on the edge of the sofa. ‘We could go to Gretna Green; you don’t need your parents’ permission to get married there if you’re under twenty-one. I have some money saved; it might be enough for petrol for my bike to get us there ... why are you looking at me like that?’
‘I thought you’d leave me.’
‘When you’re having my baby. No way.’ He pulled her close. ‘You’re my girl, Helen, I told you I’d never let you go and I meant it.’
‘And you want it?’
‘Our baby! It goes without saying that I want it. God, you didn’t think, you didn’t try to ...’
Overcome by his reaction on top of days of worry, she burst into tears. ‘I didn’t know what to think ...’
‘You’re my girl.’ Holding her, he kissed away her tears. ‘I’ll look after you, Helen, just as I said I would, I promise. I just have to work a few things out. But what the hell, we could go tonight ...’
‘Tonight!’
‘Tonight,’ he repeated. Given what Martin would say when he found out what he’d done, the best time seemed the soonest. ‘And we’ll survive, Helen. I promise you, I’ll take good care of you and my son.’
‘It could be a daughter.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s going to be a boy, you’ll see. Now, I’m going to wash, change and pack and write a note for my brother. It might be as well if you write one to your father so he doesn’t worry. Don’t forget to put on warm, waterproof clothes. It’s going to be freezing in this weather on the back of the bike. I’ll be back as soon as I can, and the minute we can sneak out without anyone noticing – we’ll be off.’
‘Are you in a hurry to get home, Katie?’
‘No, Mr Williams is on afternoon shift and Lily is seeing Joe.’
‘In that case, if you don’t mind, I’ll call in at the warehouse. I want to check it’s secure and nothing urgent has cropped up.’ He didn’t tell her he was thinking more of messages from his solicitor than suppliers. He wouldn’t be happy until all the negatives and prints taken that afternoon were in Martin Davies’s hands, and he had a signed piece of paper to say no others were in existence. ‘But I don’t expect you to do anything – understand.’
‘Yes, Mr Griffiths, and thank you for taking me to the cemetery.’
‘You sure there’s nothing wrong?’ He gave her a sideways look, as he pulled into the loading bay.
‘Can I come in with you, please? I could check the office while you check the warehouse.’
‘Mr Williams told you that your father could be out any day?’ he asked perceptively.
‘Yes.’
‘Come on then, I’ll lock the door behind us.’
John switched on the warehouse lights as Katie charged up the stairs. Cold, wet, dark winter days weren’t good for trade. It wasn’t yet six thirty and the fact that everything had been put in its place and the warehouse securely locked said it all. He doubted they’d had a customer in after five o’clock. After checking all the floors, he double locked the doors and went to the office. Katie was sitting at her desk, her head bent over an open file.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Checking a delivery note against our original order. They’ve sent us too many cutlery sets, the expensive solid silver ...’
‘You can put it right in the morning and give them a telling off while you’re at it.’ He’d been amazed by Katie’s business manner. Insecurity and diffidence vanished once she picked up the telephone or met a rep. Consistently polite and pleasant, she never hesitated to tell a supplier exactly what she thought of them if she suspected they were trying to offload second-rate goods, or more stock than had been ordered.
‘Sorry, Mr Griffiths ...’
‘And stop apologising.’ He sank into the guest chair beside her. He had a sudden aversion to the prospect of an evening at home. He didn’t doubt Helen would be well enough to have Jack around, Lily and Joe would be discussing their engagement party and after the day he’d just had, he didn’t feel like coping with young love.
‘You hungry?’ he asked Katie.
‘Not really.’
‘I forgot, you’ll want to be with your boyfriend. Come on, I’ll take you home.’
‘Adam Jordan is not my boyfriend,’ she burst out emphatically. ‘No matter what he says, he is not ...’
‘Katie ...’
‘Why does everyone think he’s my boyfriend,’ she shouted, ‘when ...’ Her voice trailed as she looked at him.
He tried to smile sympathetically and reassuringly. One of the first things he’d discovered about Katie was that she had absolutely no confidence in her own looks or personality beyond her work capabilities and Adam Jordan was an exceptionally handsome young man, just the sort to make an insecure girlfriend jealous. Presuming that she and Adam had quarrelled, he murmured, ‘I’m sorry, Katie. But if it’s any consolation, all young people have spats when they start courting. You and Adam will make it up ...’
‘There’s nothing to make up!’ Paternal understanding from the man she loved was more than she could bear. No matter what it cost, she felt she simply had to tell him the truth. ‘I hate Adam Jordan!’
‘Katie, if he’s done something to you ...’
‘He’s done nothing to me because I wouldn’t let him. But that didn’t stop him from telling me there was something wrong with me just because I wouldn’t let him follow me around and kiss and paw me every chance he got. And it didn’t help that everyone thought he was my boyfriend or kept saying how lucky I was, just because Adam’s good-looking. As if I should be grateful that he decided to pay a plain little mouse like me some attention. I can’t stand Adam Jordan. I can’t stand him touching me, or even near me because ...’ She bit her lip so hard she drew blood.
‘Those feelings are understandable after what happened to your mother but it doesn’t have to be like that between a man and a woman. Lots of married couples are happy ...’
‘Please, Mr Griffiths.’ She looked into his eyes, begging him to see the love etched in hers, so she wouldn’t have to spell it out for him.
‘Katie, if there’s anything I can do to help I will. But I think you should talk about this to a woman. Mrs Hunt, or even one of the girls ...’
‘You don’t understand,’ she threw all caution to the wind, risking his respect and the job she loved. ‘I love you. Only you. I go to sleep every night thinking about what I’m going to say to you the next day and when the next day comes I lose my nerve and say none of the things I imagined myself saying the night before. And all the time you are kind and caring, but only in the way you are with everyone who works here. I’m not a child, Mr Griffiths. I’m a woman and I love you. It doesn’t matter that you’re married or think I’m a child because I can’t help the way I feel. I’ve tried to hide it because I didn’t want to embarrass you again like I did that time on the cliff top but ...’
‘Katie ...’
‘Please, don’t try to be kind,’ she whispered, ‘not now ... I’ll go ...’
As she turned, he stepped forward and opened his arms.
Afterwards, John had no idea how he and Katie got from her desk to the sofa in the alcove. Or how long he held her while she dried her tears, or how they came to kiss. He only knew that he hadn’t been wrong about the way the first kiss she’d given him had made him feel.
Chapter Twenty-three
‘That’s the buffet menu sorted.’ Lily closed the
notebook she’d used to list the food. ‘Mrs Jordan’s offered to make the cake and Uncle Roy thinks we should let her. Her cakes are really good and ever since she did that evening class in icing they look as professional as any that come out of Eynon’s the baker’s.’
‘Dad’s ordered a barrel of beer, sherry and champagne for the toast.’
‘Uncle Roy thinks the bride’s family should provide everything.’
‘And my father thinks that’s an old-fashioned idea, and we should share the cost.’ Grabbing her hand as she tried to walk past, he pulled her down on to the sofa next to him. ‘Somehow, all of a sudden, this seems to be more complicated than you and me getting together. Half the street appear to be involved, as well as our families.’
‘Wait until we start organising the wedding.’
‘That I leave to you.’
‘Coward.’
‘Does it matter what kind of wedding we have as long as we’re together afterwards?’ Pinning her against the sofa, he kissed her.
‘Not to me,’ she murmured, returning his kiss, ‘but Uncle Roy will want to feel that he’s doing everything right.’ She shifted uncomfortably. ‘This feels as if it’s stuffed with bricks.’
‘It probably is. Want to go downstairs?’
‘Aren’t Helen and Jack there?’
‘Probably, there’s always your house.’
‘And Mrs Lannon.’
‘Why did your uncle have to pick the most meddlesome woman in the street to be your housekeeper.’
‘Because she’s the only widow without ties.’
He kissed her again. ‘Compromise, we’ll stay up here for another half hour, then go down and throw little sis and Jack out. She should have an early night anyway, seeing as how she was too ill to go to work today.’
Swansea Girls Page 39