Swansea Girls

by Catrin Collier

  ‘Watkin Morgan residence.’

  ‘I need to speak to Joe Griffiths. It’s urgent.’ He could barely conceal his irritation or impatience.

  ‘There is no one of that name here, sir.’

  ‘He is a friend of Robin ...’

  ‘Mr Robin is not at home. If you’d leave a message and a number, sir ...’ John slammed the receiver down, before the woman he assumed was the housekeeper finished speaking.

  ‘Who was that, Angie?’ Robin called from the den where he was sitting with Joe and Emily.

  ‘Someone for Pops. I gave them the number of his surgery.’ She walked in with the whisky bottle. ‘Top up, Joseph?’

  ‘Getting drunk isn’t going to help.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more, but neither will you going back to Carlton Terrace when Lily doesn’t want to see you.’

  ‘I need to see her.’ He left his chair.

  ‘Think about it from her point of view, Joe,’ Angie coaxed persuasively. ‘She’s had the most terrible shock. She’s ashamed, embarrassed. She made it clear to you that she doesn’t want to face anyone just yet.’

  ‘I’m her fiancé.’

  Robin flicked his head towards the door.

  Taking the hint, Angie pushed the ice bucket at Emily. ‘Give me a hand in the kitchen.’

  ‘Love to.’

  After the girls left, Robin sat forward in his chair and confronted Joe. ‘The house was packed. Half Swansea saw that woman claim Lily as her daughter, Joe. You have to think of yourself. Once word gets out that Lily’s mother is a streetwalker, Lily will be finished socially and so will you, if you insist on getting engaged to her.’

  ‘It’s not important who her mother is ...’

  ‘That’s rubbish and you know it. Why do you think I got the girls out of there as fast as I could? No decent man will allow his wife or daughters to associate with the daughter of a woman who can be bought for a few bob down the Strand.’

  ‘That’s Lily’s mother, not Lily!’

  ‘Of course it is, but Lily’s mother has just made a scene at your engagement party. If she can do that without a qualm of conscience, think what she’ll do at your wedding or any dinner or cocktail party you organise to entertain your boss when you have one. Joe, Lily no longer has a reputation worth speaking of. Stay with her and you’ll be tainted too. Especially at the BBC. You’ll lose that job before you even get it and that means kissing everything you’ve worked for goodbye.’

  ‘That’s what Lily said but do you really think it will happen?’ Joe pleaded, wanting to hear otherwise as he turned an anguished face to Robin’s.

  ‘I know so. There’s no way you can marry Lily and have the life you dreamed of. It’s Lily and obscurity, and I mean obscurity – no Swansea school will take the husband of a girl with Lily’s parentage on to their staff. Or a degree and a high-flying career in broadcasting.’

  ‘That look on her face ...’

  ‘She realised the score before you, Joe. Here.’ He handed his friend another whisky. ‘I’ll have a word with Mums and Pops; ask them if you can stay here for a couple of days, out of it. Then, when it’s blown over ...’

  ‘I can’t stay here.’

  ‘You can’t go back. Not yet.’

  ‘Lily ...’

  ‘As you said, she won’t even talk to you, so what’s the point of going home and trying, and upsetting yourself even more? You’re in shock and not thinking straight. At least wait until Pops comes home and takes a look at you. He’ll help you decide how to deal with this but it’s obvious to anyone in their right mind that you have to put yourself first on this one, Joe. Come on, sit back, finish your drink and try to put it behind you until tomorrow. Believe me, there’s nothing you can do about it until then.’

  Joe found it surprisingly comforting to do as Robin suggested. It almost felt like regressing to childhood when his father had made all his decisions for him. Sit back, drink and try to forget the look on Lily’s face just before he had looked away, until such time as she allowed him to apologise to her.

  Robin nodded to Angie as she walked through the door.

  ‘Ice.’ She dropped two cubes into Joseph’s glass before sitting beside him on the sofa.

  ‘It’s not all lies, Lily. You did come into Swansea on an evacuee train.’ Roy handed her a cup of tea as she sat, hunched in Norah’s favourite easy chair in the kitchen. ‘Norah saw you arrive with your mother. Mary may have been younger then, but it was still obvious what she was. Arrangements were made to billet the both of you in a room in Dyfatty Street. Norah was concerned enough to draw the attention of the senior WVS helpers to your situation and she also mentioned it to me. My beat covered Dyfatty in those days. It didn’t take long. Two nights after you arrived there was ice on the roads, it was freezing and I found you wandering the streets in the blackout with only a vest on. I picked you up, wrapped you in my coat and took you down the station. You weren’t just cold, you were starving. We fed you and at the end of the shift I took you home. I cleared it with the duty sergeant. There were so many evacuees in the town no one cared where they were, as long as they were reasonably well looked after.’

  ‘My ...’ Lily couldn’t bring herself to say the word. ‘... that woman. Did she come looking for me?’

  ‘We went looking for her to charge her with abandoning and neglecting a child but we couldn’t find her. Six months after Norah and I took you in she reported you missing in Cardiff. By then, Norah wasn’t the only one who loved you. We’d had a chance to get to know you and see how you’d been treated. When I brought you home you were filthy dirty, but that didn’t bother Norah, a lot of kids who came in from London were filthy, it was to be expected given the times the water was cut off there due to bomb damage. Only when Norah washed off the dirt, we saw the bruises. Norah took you to the hospital. The doctor said you’d been beaten. They X-rayed you and found several fractures that hadn’t been attended to. You hadn’t been fed properly either and Norah always worried that was why you remained short, although I kept telling her you were just perfect.’ He fought to control his emotion. ‘It was another three years before you stopped falling to the floor and crying every time someone raised their hands above their head. It was obviously something you associated with the beatings.’

  ‘I have a lot to be grateful to you for.’

  ‘No you don’t, love, you brought Norah and me far more happiness than we ever gave you. I only wish I could have spared you this. I’d like to say Mary reported you missing because she was worried about you, but it wasn’t that. She’d been arrested for soliciting, knew she faced a gaol sentence and pleaded she had a child to look after. The Cardiff police checked the address she gave them and found it was the room you’d been billeted in. When Mary was told you were with us she demanded you back and refused to give you up for adoption. Norah went to see her the day she came out of prison. On her return she told me she’d sorted it out and we were going to keep you. I was so pleased I didn’t ask any questions. I had no idea Norah had paid Mary or agreed to keep paying her.’

  ‘You would have stopped Auntie Norah if you’d known?’

  ‘I might have tried, but I never would have given you up. I’ve been thinking about it and it’s my guess Norah did it to protect you. You saw Mary; saw what she’s capable of. I think Norah hoped to keep her away from you. And she succeeded for a few years. I’m only sorry ...’

  ‘It’s not your fault, Uncle Roy.’ Lily left the chair and hugged him. ‘I told Joe only a few days ago that it’s not who your parents are that’s important but who brings you up. Now, I can’t believe I was so stupid.’

  ‘Love ...’

  ‘Didn’t you see the way everyone looked at me when she said she was my mother? How fast Joe’s friends left the house? They despise me and I can’t blame them. To be related to that ... that woman ... to know she’s my mother!’

  Roy watched her crumple back on the chair. Not knowing how to help, he sat and watched her, wishing he
could turn the clock back to a wartime afternoon in Swansea police station so he could lie to a Cockney prostitute who’d been sent down from Cardiff and tell her that the child she had abandoned had frozen to death in the street four hours after she had left her.

  The telephone began to ring again and he ignored it. John had given him the message but whatever was going on at the station, he wanted no part of it. Swansea could collapse as far as he was concerned. Just like his and Lily’s world.

  ‘Scrambled eggs, à la Powell, with fried tomatoes, beans and toast?’ Brian asked, turning to Jack, Katie and Martin who were sitting round the kitchen table in the basement as if there’d been a third funeral in the house.

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ Katie answered as he looked at her.

  ‘That’s because you have no idea just how delicious my cooking is. Come on,’ he cajoled, ‘you have to eat something.’

  ‘There’s a mountain of sandwiches left upstairs.’

  ‘I want something more substantial before my shift and so do you.’

  ‘Just some toast, then,’ Katie capitulated.

  ‘It’s worth saying yes so you’ll keep that pinny on,’ Jack mocked. ‘It looks good with the uniform.’

  ‘Like it?’ Brian turned to show off the floral apron he’d cadged off Lily the week before. ‘The duty sergeant will have my guts for garters if I turn up with grease spots on my trousers.’

  ‘So you turn up in drag instead.’

  ‘Damn that bloody telephone,’ Martin cursed. ‘Doesn’t it ever stop ringing?’

  ‘I think Roy is in the kitchen with Lily.’

  ‘How can they ignore it?’ Picking up his coat from the back of his chair, he rose to his feet. ‘I’m going down the pub.’

  ‘Peace,’ Jack smiled, as the ringing finally stopped.

  ‘You spoke too early.’ It started again before Martin could open the front door.

  ‘I’ll answer it.’ Brian set aside the eggs he’d been beating. Taking the narrow basement stairs two at a time, he reached the telephone the second it stopped ringing. Cursing, he waited a moment. He could hear voices in the kitchen. It was something that Roy had managed to get Lily to talk; earlier he’d wondered how anyone could recover from a shattering experience like the one Lily’s mother had put her through.

  The telephone began to ring again as he was halfway back down the stairs. Almost falling over himself, he returned and grabbed it.

  ‘Roy Williams’ house.’

  ‘Who is this?’ barked a familiar voice.

  ‘Constable Brian Powell, Sergeant.’

  ‘What the hell’s going on there? I’ve left six messages for Roy ...’

  ‘There’s been a bit of crisis, Sergeant.’

  ‘I’ll say there has. Ernie Clay’s been released.’

  ‘Released from prison?’ Brian couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  ‘That’s what I said. You’d better let Roy and the Clay children know immediately.’

  ‘Yes, Sergeant.’

  ‘And don’t use that as an excuse to be late for your shift.’

  ‘No, Sergeant.’ Replacing the telephone on the chest of drawers, Brian walked to the kitchen; he could hear Roy and Lily talking. Hating having to disturb them, he tapped on the door.

  ‘That’s Helen,’ Katie left the table at a knock on the door. ‘She said she was going to call in later.’

  ‘Talk to her for a minute, sis, I want to comb my hair.’

  ‘You won’t be able to do that when you’re married.’ She smiled, opening the door. The smile froze on her lips as her father stepped down into the room. Dumping a brown-paper bag on the table, he swayed as he turned to look at her.

  ‘Making tea for me?’ He peered at the eggs Brian had been beating. ‘They told you I’d be out this morning, then.’

  ‘No.’ Too terrified to speak, Katie mouthed the word as she shrank away from him.

  ‘Well, here I am. I’ll have my tea, then I’ll be off out. You got money?’

  Katie shook her head.

  ‘Yes, you have. Come on, a couple of quid for your old dad.’

  ‘No!’ Walking backwards, she slammed into a chair, knocking it over.

  ‘Don’t you dare defy me like your stupid bitch of a mother.’ He jabbed a finger into her chest, sending her reeling against the door. ‘I knew her tricks, keeping money from me just so she could have a big bloody do of a funeral, leaving me without two halfpennies to rub together to toast her passing. A word of warning, missy, don’t even think about it ...’ Grabbing her by the shoulders, he shook her like a rat.

  ‘Touch her again and I’ll kill you.’ Jack pushed Katie behind him and closed his hands into fists.

  ‘You bastard. Raise your hand to me like your brother ...’ Ernie dealt Jack a blow that sent him hurtling across the kitchen into the bath. Katie screamed and Ernie turned on her.

  ‘Always whining, just like your bloody mother.’ Lifting his hand, he stood over her before lashing out with all his strength.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Brian, Roy and Lily all heard the screams coming from the basement, but although Brian was nearest, Roy was first down the stairs. Someone was already hammering on the outside door but Roy stood transfixed in the passage, trying to take in the horrific scene in the kitchen. ‘Just a minute,’ he shouted, as the banging grew more frenetic.

  ‘Roy!’

  Roy took command as he sprang to life. ‘Go upstairs, John. Lily will let you in through our front door. Lily, call an ambulance, let Mr Griffiths in and stay upstairs.’ Blocking the door and Lily’s view of the kitchen, Roy turned first to Jack who was lying next to the bath, his head covered in blood, his arm bent high, at an unnatural angle behind his back. ‘Don’t try to move, boy.’

  Ignoring the directive, Jack struggled to sit up. ‘Katie ...’

  Roy looked at the girl who was standing with her back pressed against the wall, too traumatised to move or speak. Seeing no obvious wounds, he finally studied Ernie. He was lying on his back on the floor between his son and daughter, the knife Brian had been using to cut bread sticking out of his chest.

  ‘Is he dead?’ Sickened, Brian averted his head.

  ‘Keep back,’ Roy ordered sternly, stepping into the room.

  ‘I killed him,’ Jack shouted hysterically. ‘I took the knife and killed him, he was trying to hit me ... I killed him ... I ...’

  ‘Quiet, Jack!’ Kneeling beside Ernie, Roy checked the pulse in his neck. Quite certain he was dead, he pulled a tea towel from the back of a chair, covered his hand with it, and slowly and deliberately wiped the knife from the tip of the handle down to where the blade protruded from Ernie’s chest. Then he lifted Ernie’s hand and folded it round the handle, pressing the dead man’s fingers tight against the black plastic. ‘It’s obvious what happened here, Jack. I can smell the drink on your father. He must have spent all day since his release in the pub. Then he came here, attacked you and your sister, and when you tried to protect Katie, he picked up the knife. Too drunk to stand, he fell on it when Katie stepped away from him. I was here in time to see him fall on it.’

  ‘You saw ...’

  ‘I saw it happen, Brian,’ Roy repeated. Straightening up, he kicked Ernie over with the toe of his boot until he was lying face down on the floor. ‘That’s not an indication of what I feel for him. I can’t touch a body with my hands for fear of contaminating evidence. Brian?’ He stuffed the tea towel into his pocket as he looked at the young man. ‘Did you see what I saw too?’

  ‘No ...’

  ‘Of course not, how could you?’ He looked Brian in the eye. ‘You were behind me. But you do agree that’s what happened here.’

  Brian glanced at Jack, battered, bruised and broken on the floor, Katie paralysed, staring blankly with round, unblinking eyes.

  ‘Do you agree, Brian?’ Roy pressed sternly.

  ‘That ...’

  ‘Do you agree?’

  Brian gazed at Katie and saw the blood
on her right hand.

  ‘Do you agree?’ Roy repeated heatedly.

  ‘I agree,’ Brian whispered. He couldn’t argue against the justice of what Roy was doing, but it went against everything he believed in and had been taught in training school. What price fair dealing for all, irrespective of who they were and what they’d done, if a solitary constable could act as judge and jury, settling a case before it even reached court?

  ‘Take Katie-to the sink; wash her hands, then the sink – thoroughly. Don’t leave any traces. Dry her hands in her skirt. She shouldn’t have tried to help her father, but it’s an instinctive reaction even when casualties are beyond assistance. Then take her upstairs and telephone the station. Tell them there has been an incident and an accidental death...’

  ‘I’ll take care of Katie.’

  He looked up to see John standing in the doorway.

  ‘How long have you been there?’

  ‘John ...’ Screaming and sobbing, Katie flung herself into John Griffiths’ arms. ‘I killed ...’

  ‘I just heard Mr Williams explain how your father fell on the knife he was holding when you stepped away from him. That’s not killing him, Katie.’

  ‘I ...’

  ‘She needs to be sedated, John.’

  ‘I’ll phone my own doctor.’

  ‘Tell him Katie is traumatised and needs heavy sedation ...’

  ‘I know what to do.’

  ‘Don’t leave Katie alone for a moment before he gets here or allow her to talk to anyone else.’

  Avoiding touching her hands, John laid his arm round her shoulders. ‘Come with me, sweetheart,’ he murmured gently, taking her to the sink. Washing and drying her fingers, just as he would a child’s, he led her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

  Roy turned his attention to Jack. ‘I told you to lie still. Move again and you could do that arm a lot of damage.’

  ‘Katie and Mr Griffiths ...’

  ‘He’ll look after her.’

  ‘And my father?’ Jack stared at the body humped over the knife, the blood oozing thickly on to the tiled floor.