She threw the vegetable knife into the bowl and ran upstairs, returning with the exercise book, which she thrust into his hands. Silently, he sat and began to read. Then he looked up at her and waited for her to speak.
‘Is it true?’ she demanded.
‘Yes, it’s true,’ he told her. ‘Dad used to visit Betty Connors and there was more than casual friendship and doing odd repairs for her.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ She almost shouted in her grief.
‘Mum, how could I? It isn’t a subject for a son to discuss with his mother, especially when it concerns his father. Dad never knew that we’d found out. Besides, Richard, Ralph and I thought it would blow over.’
‘So you all knew?’
‘I don’t think anyone else did.’
‘They do now,’ she said sadly. ‘I feel such a fool apart from everything else.’
‘Perhaps it wasn’t serious, just a need for friendship.’
‘Friendship? What nonsense you talk, Phillip! He had me, and you three boys, his employees at work, why would he want friendship from the likes of Betty Connors, a common public house proprietor?’
He wanted to argue, to tell her not to be so harsh, that Betty Connors was a kind lady and far from common, but he didn’t. He thought about the difficulties they’d all had in talking to his mother. The impossibility of trying to make her understand their point of view when they didn’t agree with hers. Her unreasonableness was why he had left so soon after being demobbed at the end of the war, and it was also the reason Ralph had been afraid to leave and start building a life of his own. He thought all this but said nothing. It was still impossible to talk to her. She could still silence him with a sharp word or a glare from her constantly angry eyes.
Instead of discussing his father and Betty Connors, he told her about Fiona, and how he believed she had been trying to make him accept a child that wasn’t his.
‘It might have been yours. It doesn’t take that long. And if you treat women like common prostitutes…’
He was silenced, shocked by her use of the word.
‘I’d have liked to have the house filled with grandchildren,’ she said. ‘I imagined Ty Mawr being our family’s home for generations to come.’
Irritation broke down his usual caution. ‘Come on, Mum, you know you haven't got the patience for children. You treat them like little adults. Or animals that need training. Little Davy is yours but you hardly bother with him. All you do is crit—’ He fell silent, looking at her face, knowing he had gone too far.
‘All I do is criticize? Is that what you were about to say? It’s called trying to help, Phillip. I want him to have a good start.’
‘What if your help isn’t needed, Mummy? And, worse, what if you’re wrong? What then?’
She was excused answering by the sound of the door opening. Connie came in with Geoff, with carrier bags filled with an assortment of vegetables and fruit.
‘Here are some leftovers; we might make a big pot of vegetable soup, what d’you think?’ Then she saw him. ‘Oh, Phillip. What are you doing here?’
‘Hoping to see you, and to persuade you to forgive me and come back to North Wales.’
‘Phillip, I like children, but, as I’ve said before, I can’t cope with a twenty-eight-year-old child who won’t grow up.’
‘We’ll talk later. When we’re alone. Hope is sure to find me a bed.’
‘You can’t stay here. There isn’t room.’
Geoff took Connie’s arm and guided her back to the door. ‘Sorry we can’t stop, but we’re going out, delivering paraffin.’
‘How exciting,’ Phillip said, giving her his special smile.
‘It will be, with Geoff for company,’ she said, walking out of the door through which they had so recently entered.
Phillip spread his hands. ‘What did I say?’
‘She won’t want you here and neither will Hope, so you’d better go back to the guest house with your father.’
Phillip went to find Matthew and, dejected and despairing, they returned to the guest house. With Freddy they ate an unappetizing meal of cheese and potato pie in which there was a serious dearth of cheese with lots of pepper in an attempt to disguise the fact, and decided that something had to be done.
*
Geoff was quiet as they travelled around the houses delivering the fuel for heaters and stoves. Connie helped him, taking the money, writing the transactions into his book, offering change and a few polite comments. She wanted to talk to him, tell him that Phillip was no longer important, that she had seen him in clear and unvarnished truth for what he was, a lazy, self-centred man. She didn’t know how to begin so she said nothing. Afraid of hearing something he dreaded, Geoff said nothing either.
There was an atmosphere, an edginess like there had never been before. When they touched by accident they would both move away as though the contact was objectionable. Their hands reaching for the same item, although wrapped in thick gloves, suffered a shock that was similar to electricity, jarring and no longer exciting.
As they left the last customer and the van headed for home. Connie said, ‘Please, Geoff, can we go to our favourite beach?’
‘It’s almost dark, and we haven’t even brought a flask. You’ll be frozen.’ He didn’t slow down.
‘I’ll risk being frozen. Please, can we go, just for a little while, look at the sea and listen to the silence together?’ She was aware of the silence that had kept them apart since they left Badgers Brook, but she imagined a different kind of silence, a shared peace, a chance to be aware of each other without intrusion. An opportunity to isolate themselves from the rest of humanity and allow honesty to enter.
He reversed into a farm gateway and she touched his hand as a thank you. It wasn’t far and, as before, he drove in silence. When he stopped he turned, leaning away from her, his back against his door, and stated at her. ‘Go on, then. Tell me,’ he said softly.
‘What d’you want to hear, Geoff?’
‘It’s not what I want, it’s what I expect. You’re going back with Phillip, aren’t you? Tell me. Get it over with.’
‘I’m not going anywhere. Except I’ll have to leave Badgers Brook. I can’t stay under the same roof as Phillip.’
Still he misunderstood. ‘Can’t trust yourself?’
‘I couldn’t stand by and watch him twist his mother around his finger and scrounge money from her. That’s what he does, scrounge money, from one person after another, pretending love is in his heart, when he isn’t capable of loving anyone except himself. Oh, I fell for it like all the rest, and it took me longer to face the truth than most. I don’t know what Marjorie did to her sons, but I doubt if any one of them knew how to be happy.’
‘You’ll be leaving?’ Darkness was closing in, settling around them like a veil, and she could barely see his face.
‘Only Badgers Brook, and only if Phillip is staying there. If he’s moving in, even temporarily, I’ll find a room somewhere, maybe with Betty Connors at the pub. She’s very kind, and I don’t mind asking her.’
‘You will go home eventually, though?’
‘Not in the immediate future. Perhaps one day I’ll go on a short visit to see my folks. It’s here in Cwm Derw I want to stay.’ She leaned towards him a little, as though trying to read his expression. ‘Unless you ask me to go, I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave.’
‘You mean that?’
‘I do. I’ve never been happier than since I came here, never more optimistic about the future.’ Taking a chance on him not wanting to hear it, she added, ‘Mainly because of meeting you. I’d hate us to say goodbye, Geoff. You make me so happy I’d hate for us to part.’
‘Connie, could you be happy living at the shop?’ He was so nervous he was breathless. ‘It isn’t grand but you can do whatever you need to make it more comfortable. I don’t mean straight away,’ he said as she was about to speak. ‘I – I want you to marry me. Will you think about it?’
&
nbsp; ‘I’ve thought about nothing else since we first met.’
‘Neither have I,’ he whispered as he gathered her into his arms.
Later, practicalities were discussed and Connie had to ask the question she badly wanted to avoid. ‘Geoff, you do know that Phillip and I lived together, as husband and wife, don’t you?’
‘I try never to think about it.’
‘You have to I’m afraid. I want you to think about it and make sure it won’t come between us, tarnish our love with ugliness and resentment. I’m absolutely sure about loving you, but, given my past, it’s you who needs to think about it carefully.’
‘The past doesn’t spook me and it never will. The present is all that matters, and the future is ours to make of it what we wish.’
‘We’ll have to wait a while.’ she said as he held her tight. ‘I own nothing but a few clothes. I need to save some money.’
‘I have enough. The only reason for waiting is for you to be certain.’
‘In that case, what about next week?’ she said with a smile. ‘Supposing Hope can make a dress in seven days.’
‘Tomorrow I’ll get a special licence. We’ll go together, like we’ll do everything from now on.’
‘You have been thinking about this, haven’t you?’
Repeating her words, he said. ‘I’ve thought of nothing else since we first met.’
*
When Hope returned to Badgers Brook with Joyce and a chattering Davy, Phillip was there but she didn’t allow him to speak. Without a glance at Marjorie she quietly told him to leave. With a kiss on the cheek for his mother and without a word to Hope, he did so.
Hope was afraid to look at Marjorie, aware of how painful it all was for her. She concentrated on unpacking their shopping. Before she and Joyce had put everything away, Connie returned with Geoff and it was at once clear that something good had happened.
‘How soon can you make me a wedding dress?’ Connie asked, her eyes shining, her normally pale face flushed and quite lovely, happiness enhancing her dark eyes. Beside her Geoff’s face showed the same joy.
Hope’s first thought was that she would have to leave Badgers Brook. It was Geoff’s house and they’d surely want to live here. Her first reaction was spoken aloud almost before she thought it.
‘You’ll want me to leave Badgers Brook, then? How soon is all this going to happen?’ Then, filled with remorse at her selfish thought, she ran to hug Connie, saying. ‘Connie, my dear, I’m so happy for you. Congratulations, Geoff, you’ll make the perfect couple. Oh, this is exciting, isn’t it, Marjorie?’ She turned to her mother-in-law in certain dread of the reaction being worse than her own, but Marjorie stood up and offered a hand.
‘Connie, we haven’t known each other long, but I’m sure you will be a good wife to Geoff. You, Geoff, are a very lucky man.’
Hope was speechless. She hugged Connie again, hugged Geoff and went to the kitchen cupboard to see whether there was anything drinkable with which to toast the couple. Marjorie being polite! And wishing them every happiness? It was a miracle!
‘Before we drink a toast, I want to reassure you, Hope, that we won’t be living here. Connie and I will live above the shop and your tenancy is safe for as long as you want it.’
‘Thank you, Geoff. I can’t ever imagine wanting to leave this wonderful house.’
‘Oh, you will,’ Geoff said mysteriously. ‘The time will come when you’re ready to move out. The house will tell you when. It always happens like that.’
Hope didn’t question him, this moment was his and Connie’s, and his assurance, strange as it sounded, was enough.
*
The following morning Phillip watched as the train puffed noisily and importantly into the station. Doors flew open and passengers emerged and he jumped in and found a corner seat. A change in Cardiff then he’d be on the way to Paddington. He could be talking to Fiona this evening. Why had he spoken to Matthew and allowed himself to be persuaded to leave, he berated himself.
As the journey progressed he considered his plans. Instead of going straight to Fiona’s flat or meeting her at the shop he decided to get himself a room and a job, perhaps get himself reinstated in the toy shop. Then, although it was little enough, he would have some stability, and something to offer her. In his pockets were the beautiful gifts she had bought for him: the cigarette case and lighter, the gold watch, the cufflinks and tie pin. These would be returned to her whatever the outcome of their meeting. He would be sorry to lose them, but returning them and offering a sincere apology would be the first steps in the painful process of growing up.
Twelve
Marjorie didn’t know what to do with herself. Living at Badgers Brook with Hope, Davy and Connie meant everything was organized and there was no place for her to fill. She was left alone for much of the morning but the meal was already planned and the vegetables done before she woke. Hope was well used to dealing with the routine of the house and everything ran smoothly.
Connie, too, had fitted into the way Hope worked and she had made certain jobs her own. In her enforced idleness Marjorie took to walking. Most mornings when the weather was reasonable she dressed in her smartest clothes and went out. Sometimes to the post office, where she shared a few comments with Stella and those waiting to be served; haughty, defiant, unbending, proud of her ability to face them all, knowing that as soon as she had left the conversations would be about her latest disaster.
Occasionally she went to the bridge across the railway line, drawn more and more frequently by melancholy over the fate of her young son, seeing in her mind’s eye the wheelchair, and the occupant’s struggle to free himself of its confinement, imagining him climbing over the high barrier and waiting with determination and utter despair for the train to approach. She allowed the events leading to the death of Ralph to pass through her mind like a film, time and again, wanting to become so accustomed to them that they no longer caused such excruciating pain.
This morning she hesitated at the approach when she saw someone standing where she usually spent a few minutes reliving her grief. The figure, hunched in heavy overcoat and a thick scarf, was gazing down over the shining, innocuous silver lines. She stopped and began to turn away. This wasn’t a place where she would enjoy even a brief conversation. These moments were for herself alone. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears and she didn’t recognize Freddy until he called out to her.
‘Marjorie, wait.’
She increased her speed but he caught up with her easily and held her arm.
‘Go away, Freddy.’
‘Come with me, we’ll have a cup of coffee and talk about Ralph. D’you know, we never have. Not really talked.’ She continued walking and he still kept a hand on her arm. ‘Walk away if you wish but I want you to listen to something I should have said a long time ago.’
She stopped then and glared at him. ‘I see, you have more excuses, have you?
‘I lost my son,’ he shouted. Then he released her arm from his grip in an angry gesture as though throwing it from him in disgust. ‘You and I have never shared in the grief. I loved him too, but you pushed me away, convinced that as a mere father I couldn’t possibly feel the same sense of loss, the same agony at the stupidity of the ending of a life hardly begun. I lost him too, but you used your agony to blame poor Hope, who had lost her husband, her lover, her future. There is no compassion in you, Marjorie, not for anyone.’
He calmed down a little but didn’t apologize as he might once have done. Instead he stared at her, demanding a response.
‘Go away, Freddy.’
‘You can send me away, you can push everyone away, but your misery stays with you. Remember that.’ He walked off towards the main road and she stood for a long time staring at his receding back, allowing the tears to fall.
*
Geoff suggested they arrange caterers for the wedding breakfast when he and Connie married. He wasn’t short of money and, although it was a rushed affair, he didn’t want
them to regret that they hadn’t made more of their special day. A cake was planned, and, as usual during the years of shortages, many friends and neighbours contributed what they could spare towards making it. Cooking it was entrusted to Hope.
The dress was second hand, and it was a few hours’ work for Hope and Joyce to alter it to fit and add a few decorations of their own, to make it unique. There wouldn’t be a great variety of flowers available but the local florist promised to do something spectacular with whatever she could find. Amid all the excitement Marjorie’s misery was swamped. Freddy’s words had shocked her, and although initially she felt more anger towards him – how dare he criticize her after what he had done – she was beginning to accept that they were true. If Hope noticed a deeper misery in her mother-in-law’s demeanour she said nothing. Marjorie had been given many chances but now she had to make the first move if she was ready to accept help.
*
In London, Phillip heard about the forthcoming wedding and for a moment felt regret that he hadn’t been able to accept commitment and marry Connie. He discussed it with Matthew one day when Matthew came up to London in the hope of finding work.
‘Other people settle for routine and family life, so what is it about us that we find it so hard?’
‘We’ve blamed the war for so long I think we’ve begun to believe it,’ Matthew said sadly. ‘The truth is, we’re fools, losers. My friend, you’re right. It’s time for us to grow up.’
‘My biggest regret is Fiona. I just might have been wrong about her taking me for a fool.’
‘Wrong to take you for a fool?’ He gave a half grin.
Phillip gave a sad smile. ‘No, she wasn’t wrong about that, was she? I avoid decisions whenever I can and when I do make a choice I make the wrong one. But in some ways I’ve been a lucky fool. I talked my way back into the job in the toy shop. I’ve found a fairly decent place to live. And I’m going to try and see Fiona, take her out for a meal. I need to see her and try to make her understand.’
A Girl Called Hope Page 26