Goodbye to Dreams

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Goodbye to Dreams Page 2

by Grace Thompson


  The man who had watched Cecily and Gareth dancing cursed when he failed to find his motorbike in the vicinity of the dance hall. He went back to the doors which were spilling out the last of the laughing, happy revellers and listened to the shouts of friends arranging other venues and calling affectionate goodbyes. The doorman shook his head when questioned. He didn’t remember hearing a motorbike start up.

  ‘Not a chance in the rowdiness of the past hours,’ he grumbled. ‘Young people today, never happy unless they’re making a row. A real suck-in this job is. Told me I’d finish at twelve and here it is gone half past one and me still trying to get them off the premises.’ He turned and shouted for the stragglers to hurry.

  The man left the doorman still complaining and went to begin a search of the streets. Outside he bumped into the girl he had been watching but had hoped to avoid meeting.

  ‘Danny!’ Cecily gasped.

  ‘Hello, Cecily, Ada.’ He nodded at the surprised sisters. ‘Someone has stolen my motorbike,’ he said foolishly, as an explanation of his presence there at that time.

  ‘Willie’s waiting for us with the trap if you’d like a lift?’ Cecily spoke nervously, quickly. She didn’t know whether to stop and talk or run away.

  Danny shook his head. ‘No, I’d better search for the bike.’

  ‘No, come on, Danny,’ Ada said, taking his arm, ‘come with us. Willie won’t mind driving around. Better chance of finding it then.’

  Cecily was in a daze. She stood, silent, as Danny approached the trap, and it was Ada who explained to Willie what had happened. The young stable boy nodded and jumped down to help Cecily and Ada up to their seats.

  ‘Come on, Cecily,’ Ada said with a laugh. ‘Don’t fall asleep yet!’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Danny belatedly offered his arm to help her.

  His arm was something long lost and recently found. The others were talking, discussing where they should look for the bike, but to Cecily their voices sounded far off, as if she were in the strange state when sleep had almost claimed her yet allowed her to eavesdrop on what was going on around her. Ada poked her cheerfully. ‘Budge up, sis, make room for me.’ And Cecily shook off the disbelief of seeing Danny so unexpectedly, and smiled at her sister.

  ‘I can’t remember seeing a bike, or hearing one start,’ young Willie was saying. ‘Fell asleep I did. Damn me, someone could have stolen the horse and I wouldn’t have noticed.’ He clicked at the horse and they began to pull away. ‘Leave it to me, I’ll go round the locality in a pattern. Find it for you we will, no trouble.’

  Cecily sat next to Danny, her heart pounding painfully, unable to start a conversation, unable to believe that after seven years she was sitting beside Danny Preston. He too seemed unable to speak. It was Ada who filled the air with her chatter. Cecily shrugged herself deeper into her fur-collared coat and listened as Ada began to talk about the dance.

  ‘There’s a pity you don’t like dancing, Danny. Great fun it was, all crowded together and sharing the celebration.’

  ‘More for the out-of-doors, me,’ Danny replied, his voice deep and strong, making Cecily start. She had been telling herself he was a ghost, an unreal image, dragged out of her heart by thoughts of being married to Gareth. She saw his head move slightly and knew the remark was for her. Dancing versus the great outdoors, that had been their constant problem. Dancing was the one subject she needed to avoid, and Ada, bless her, had jumped straight into it.

  ‘You always did prefer walks to dancing, didn’t you, Danny?’ Ada was saying. ‘Just as well, you taking a job as a postman! Still a postman, are you? Haven’t heard of you for years, Danny Preston.’

  ‘Still a postman.’

  ‘And we’re still helping Dadda in the shop. Doing most everything now, mind. With our mam not with us any more.’

  ‘I heard about her going off with some man and leaving you all.’ A brief embarrassed silence and he added, ‘Your father, still on the docks, is he?’

  ‘Yes, but he helps us with the heavy stuff. Young Willie too. He does a lot to help us. Couldn’t manage without Willie, could we, Cecily? But it’s me and Cecily running things, ever since Mam … left.’

  Cecily felt the blush heat her face despite the freezing air. The second worst subject to discuss with Danny was their mother running off with the coalman and apart from a scrappy note written on the back of a used envelope, no explanation or a word telling them she was sorry.

  ‘What about trying up round the park?’ she suggested, hoping to change the subject. ‘Aren’t we supposed to be looking for a bike?’

  ‘I’m heading there now,’ Willie said. ‘Keep a good lookout.’ He showed no embarrassment at listening to their conversation. He was sixteen and had worked for the Owens in one capacity or another since he was nine.

  ‘Where are you living now, Danny?’ Ada asked.

  Why doesn’t she be quiet, give him a chance to say something? Cecily thought irritably. Tell us what he was doing outside the dance hall for a start.

  ‘I’m back home with Mam, for the present, that is.’

  Cecily’s breath shortened. She waited for the next words. Was he about to say he was married? Living at home with his wife? Or soon to be married and expecting to change accommodation? She had heard nothing of him since they parted when she was eighteen.

  Willie called for the horse to ‘whoa’ and stopped near a lamppost. ‘Come on, Miss Ada. You walk around one side of the park with me and these two can walk round the other. Save us time, that will.’

  They all obediently stepped down and Danny walked beside Cecily, leaving the other two to walk in the opposite direction and circle the small park. He didn’t touch her and only an occasional cough revealed his nervousness. Cecily still failed to think of a word to say to him. Questions abounded in her head. She wanted to know what he had been doing, whether there was someone else in his life, if marriage was on his mind, or whether he had found it impossible to let another New Year pass without seeing her and finding a way back to what they’d had all those years ago. His unreasonable jealously had ruined their love and she wondered if he would remain her only love. Guilt brought Gareth to mind. Gareth was different. She would have married him and cared for him, but there would never have been the excitement and passion she’d known with Danny Preston. Perhaps, she thought with a brief moment of understanding, perhaps that was how it had been for her mother.

  ‘What have you been doing since we parted, Danny?’ she asked at last. ‘None of the crowd have seen you and no news of you has filtered back. You might as well have gone to Australia.’

  ‘I did leave, I went to sea. For five years I travelled in cargo ships in and out of a hundred ports. Then I grew tired of it all. I lived in Spain for a while but politics made things difficult so I came home. Went back to delivering letters.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ she whispered, but he appeared not to hear.

  ‘I came home, got a job and found myself a girl and now I’m going to be married. Next month my wife and I will be moving into rooms in Foxhole Street.’ He said the words fast, as if to prevent her from commenting.

  ‘Foxhole Street. That’s over the far side of the docks, near the Pleasure Beach, isn’t it? Very nice over there.’ She was amazed at how calm she sounded, coming so soon after his unexpected reappearance had hurled her back into a dream of his returning to her. All thoughts of Gareth had fled. He was here, walking beside her in the darkness, then the foolish, fanciful, golden dream had been shattered.

  ‘Sudden, wasn’t it?’ she forced herself to ask. ‘Meeting this girl and planning to marry her?’

  Why did you come? she asked silently and, as if she had spoken the words aloud, he said, ‘I came to the dance to look for you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ve thought about you a lot during the last seven years, Cecily. I’ve wondered, in the dark loneliness of nights in foreign places, whether we’d made a mistake all those years ago. When I came back and heard you weren’
t married I wondered, for a while, if I should come back into your life.’

  ‘Supposing of course that I wanted you to!’ she couldn’t help blurting out. ‘But you didn’t.’

  ‘I didn’t. I met Jessie and she seems to suit me, want the same things and we, well, we’re getting married.’

  ‘Love match, is it?’ Her voice was sweet but the sarcasm was clear.

  ‘I wouldn’t marry her if I didn’t love her,’ he defended.

  ‘Then why did you come and find me tonight? That was what you were doing, wasn’t it? Probably watching me dancing and having a good time and even though you no longer love me, you still felt the old jealousy writhing inside you like an evil snake.’ She fought down the temptation to hit him for his stupidity. After seven years she still wanted to hit out at the foolish jealously that had forced them to separate. ‘Danny Preston, with all your world travel and vast experiences, you’re still a fool.’

  Voices came then. Willie and Ada in muted voices, conscious of the lateness of the hour and of people sleeping in the nearby houses. ‘Danny! We’ve found it!’ Ada called.

  ‘Not damaged so far as I can see,’ Willie added.

  ‘Not even hidden. It’s just by the wall over by there!’

  Cecily couldn’t decide whether she was glad the painful interlude was over, or sorry they couldn’t have worked through the anger and recriminations to something approaching harmony. After seven years it was unbelievable that they were at once on the defensive and even attack, after just moments in each other’s company.

  Willie and Ada didn’t approach them but walked away waiting for Danny to follow to where they had found his motorbike.

  Danny reached for her. ‘Cecily, why do we fight so?’ He pulled her close and his lips touched hers, gentle at first but then with ever growing hunger. His touch, his arms enfolding her, the very scent of him were so familiar she sobbed as he released her. In the dim light of a distant street lamp, his eyes were moist too.

  ‘Danny, it’s been so long,’ she whispered. ‘I hoped you would no longer make me feel this way.’

  ‘I was a fool to come.’ He walked away, calling to Ada and Willie. ‘Where are you? Thanks for finding the bike. It’s a long walk home.’

  Cecily didn’t move to join them. She heard the sound of his feet running on the gravel road, the muffled talk and laughter. Then the sound of the bike starting up and moving away put an end to her anticipation of his returning to her. She wiped her eyes and called in a firm voice, ‘Come on, Ada, I’m frozen. Let’s get home.’

  When he had settled them in the trap, Willie said, ‘We’re so late anyway, what say we go around the beach road. It’s a clear night and you’re both well wrapped up.’

  ‘What a lovely idea, Willie,’ Ada said. She sat close to Cecily and put an arm around her, comforting, reliable and concerned. Sensitive to her sister’s unease after seeing Danny. ‘We need to unwind a bit, don’t we?’

  The hoofs clopped and echoed, an impertinence in the solemn silence of the early hour. As they skirted the wide curving bay and saw the silver-tipped waves on a leaden sea, the only lights were from the few houses where some families still celebrated the beginning of a new year, a new decade.

  The sea was separated from the sky by the thinnest pale line, but as they watched, morning came, borne reluctantly in on pink-tinged mist, rolling over eastern point until the lights in the houses were dimmed in its wake.

  ‘Beautiful,’ Ada breathed.

  ‘Melancholy,’ Cecily murmured.

  ‘Late!’ Willie announced firmly. He clicked to the weary horse and they trotted home through the empty streets.

  Danny Preston rode home in the early morning, furious that he had wasted time coming to see Cecily. She hadn’t changed. She was still a flirt, laughing and looking up into every man’s face, widening her dazzling eyes, not able to keep her charms for one person. He opened the throttle, uncaring of the people he disturbed, remembering how she had hugged and kissed everyone within reach, her dress offering a generous view of her body. Why had he wasted even a moment imagining how she would welcome him back after the lonely years? Lonely years? She wasn’t the type to be lonely!

  His mind built images of her outgoing personality, her familiarity with strangers that showed her for what she really was: a tease and a flirt. How could he ever have contemplated marrying her and spending half his life wondering how friendly she was being while he wasn’t with her? Her mother had left them to live with another man – it must be in the blood – and he’d been a fool to believe Cecily would change.

  Jessie was far from exciting but at least she would give him peace of mind. He forced himself to think of quiet, gentle Jessie as he rode the last few yards to his home. Tomorrow he and Jessie would name the day for their wedding. Tonight had not been a waste of time; it had exorcised the obsession of Cecily Owen for good. But it was of Cecily he dreamed and whose face troubled his sleep that night and for many nights to come.

  To Cecily the early morning ride was unreal. The wild dancing and the excitement of the New Year, the tentative hand-holding of Gareth, all seemed more like a play she had seen long ago, not recent moments in the darkness. Seeing Danny, sitting beside him, feeling his lips on hers, had distorted everything into a fantasy. Even the shop for which they were heading was not the home she had left only hours before but a place not seen for a long time. It was as if she were the one who had been away for seven years, not Danny, who had popped back into her life to rouse the flames still flickering there, only to fight and depart once more.

  As they trotted along the main road she wondered vaguely about the time. If the town hall clock had chimed she had not heard it. The streets were not completely empty even now. When Willie turned the trap from the main road down the hill to the shop, a slow trickle of men were on the way to the docks, their hard boots joining the sound of the horse, who was hurrying now he was close to the stable and food. Shopkeepers were already at work washing pavements outside their premises and carrying out their wares to attract passers-by. Paper boys were off on their rounds, whistling cheerfully.

  The shop bell tinkled as they opened the door. Willie waited until they were safely inside then walked the horse around to the back lane and the stable entrance. Cecily walked in first and their father stood up out of the large armchair.

  ‘Been joy-riding, have you?’ he asked disapprovingly. ‘Disgusting behaviour I call that, keeping that young lad out all night. Willie waits until all hours to see you two home safe – you could at least consider him a bit.’

  Owen Owen was a tall, thin man and as he rose to greet them, ash from the cigarette he had been smoking fell from his clothes. He was in stockinged feet: the heavy work boots were where he always put them, on the fender of the dying fire ready for the morning. Beside them the pipe he occasionally smoked lay fallen on its side, spent ash in an untidy heap. His eyes were red-rimmed with tiredness and the effect of the smoke drifting up to sting them, and held their customary sadness.

  ‘I’ll go and help Willie with the horse,’ he muttered. ‘Luckily I don’t start till two o’clock today. Not that you worried about that!’ Continuing his grumbles he stumbled across the room, down the passage and through the back kitchen to the yard.

  ‘Been drinking bad by the look of him,’ Ada whispered.

  ‘I’ll go up and see that Myfanwy is all right.’ Cecily ran up the stairs and opened the door of the little girl’s room. The covers were thrown back and she carefully tucked them around the sleeping child, the little girl so precious to them all, whom they had adopted when she was only weeks old. Cecily kissed her and ran back down to Ada, who was laughing and pointing at the shop door.

  ‘Just look at them!’ Ada said and Cecily joined in her laughter. Passers-by, seeing the light shining through the shop from the back room, were knocking on the door in the hope of being served. ‘You make the tea,’ Cecily said, unlocking the shop door, ‘and I’ll see to this lot.’ Still wearing her
fur-trimmed coat, she served the opportunist customers.

  Owen Owen came back, took the cup of tea Ada offered and sank into his chair. Since Mam had gone, he was like a cushion with the stuffing leaked out, Cecily thought sadly. Poor Dadda. He had been so shocked by their mother’s departure he would never get over it.

  It hadn’t been the first time she had left them to chase a man whom she thought would offer her more than Owen and the small shop. For a long time Owen thought she would walk back into their lives. He didn’t even know where she was: all attempts at finding her had failed and apart from a couple of letters to tell them she was safe and happy and hoped they were, she was lost to them completely.

  He complained as he drank his tea, about having to spend the night in the chair waiting for them to come in, but the girls knew it was not uncommon for him to fail to reach his bed. He would often be found early in the morning, dazed with drink, slumped, still dressed, in the armchair close to the fire.

  He had never behaved like this before their mother ran off and seeing him now, empty, hollow, without any emotion except occasional anger, Cecily and Ada felt pity and love for the man. Wordlessly they both bent to kiss him. Still fuddled with drink as he frequently was, he had always looked after Myfanwy for them to go out.

  ‘Did Van wake at all?’ Ada asked.

  ‘No, not a sound from her. I went up a few times and covered her up. There’s a fidget that girl is.’ He went up to the bathroom to wash and change and Ada looked at the big wall-clock. ‘There’s no chance of a sleep but I think I’ll bath when Dadda’s finished.’

  Cecily yawned and stretched luxuriously. ‘Me too.’

  Ada looked at her sister, elder by two years, her closest friend. ‘Want to talk about Danny?’ she asked softly. ‘Seeing him again like that, it must have been a shock.’

  ‘He only came to see me to make sure he wasn’t making a mistake by marrying someone else,’ Cecily said bitterly. ‘How could he be so unfeeling? Even after seven years I felt insulted. More like a cow in a market, not a human being.’

 

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