Goodbye to Dreams

by Grace Thompson

  ‘I’m going out next Sunday,’ Ada said. ‘I’ve been invited out to tea.’

  ‘Oh? And what lucky man would that be?’ It was a demonstration of his acceptance as their friend that she told him.

  ‘It’s that daft Phil Spencer. He’s only gone and told his mother I’m coming, so she’s bought lots of food and made some of her special butter cake. I can’t disappoint her, can I?’

  Peter smiled, his loose cheeks quivering as he pursed his lips and said, ‘By the look on your face, Miss Ada Owen, it’s you who’d be disappointed.’

  ‘Go on. That’s enough cheek from you!’ Smiling and with a blush enhancing her cheeks, she went into the back kitchen to start preparing food. It had become more and more her job to cook the evening meal and for once she was glad to get away from Peter’s teasing.

  She was excited about visiting Phil and his mother. He was such good fun and always in a good humour. Their occasional meetings had increased until now it was a regular thing for him to pull up outside the shop and whisk her off somewhere for the evening. She hoped Peter would leave before Phil came to collect her tonight. Teasing still made her tense. Although Phil repeated his offer of marriage often, she was not yet certain of her feelings and raillery was difficult to cope with.

  Peter waited until Ada was in the kitchen then asked, ‘What about it, then, Cecily? Oh, it’s all right, I know about Gareth, the dancing barber. This is just a friendly invitation and I’d be glad of your opinion of the place that’s for rent. You’ve got a good business head on your shoulders—’

  ‘For a woman?’ she finished for him.

  ‘I wouldn’t be so condescending! You could teach a few local businessmen a thing or two. You have a flare for forgetting traditional ways and going for something fresh and unusual. I haven’t forgotten how we moved my cafe a little to improve its site. Remember?’

  ‘Thank you, Peter. Van and I will love it.’

  ‘I know, I’ll ask Gareth myself. I’m going there now for a trim. Got to look my best if I’m escorting a couple of beautiful ladies.’ He patted his greying head. ‘I’m not too old to enjoy that.’

  ‘You don’t have to ask Gareth. Thank you for inviting us.’ The thought of having to ask Gareth touched something inside her and made her feel rebellious. Ask Gareth indeed!

  ‘We aren’t married yet!’ she said to Ada when she mentioned her acceptance.

  Peter Marshall left the Riley outside the shop and walked up to the main road. He had been shaken by Cecily’s willingness to go out with him. He had hoped both sisters would accompany him but it was more than he’d dreamed of for Cecily to come on her own. The Wedge was closing for the day and the tobacconist’s half already had blinds pulled down. He went into the barbers and waited for Gareth to be free. Fortunately, when the customer Gareth was dealing with had paid, no one else entered.

  ‘Just a trim, if you please. And I would like a word.’ He thought for a moment that it might have been wiser to wait until his hair had been cut before telling the man with the scissors that he wanted to take his girl out! He was polite and cautious with his explanations. ‘I’m a customer of the Owens,’ he began, ‘and they’ve been helpful in increasing my business over at the Pleasure Beach.’

  ‘Cafe, is it, Mr … er …’ Gareth looked at the short nails, the work-stained hands and wondered how he could possibly serve teas.

  ‘Yes, among other things. The sisters are very good about delivering, on occasions making special trips to bring me something I urgently need.’

  ‘Wonderful thing, the telephone,’ Gareth said vaguely. His mind was already on the meal waiting for him. Lovely cook Mam was. He hoped she’d give Cecily some lessons one day soon.

  ‘So, I’d like to take Cecily with me when I go to Porthcawl on Sunday. Just for a look around, see what the competition is. You know, get the feel of the place. Cecily would be a great asset while I’m thinking of a possible business there.’

  ‘Cecily go with you? Why?’ The scissors stopped their snapping, and leaning towards him, Gareth stared at the man and demanded, ‘What’s Cecily got to do with you?’

  ‘As I’ve just explained, I value her advice.’

  ‘No, no, we’ve made arrangements for Sunday.’

  ‘That’s funny, she told me you’d be busy decorating this place.’

  ‘That’s right, yes, then I was going there for dinner.’

  Peter wasn’t the kind to argue but in this instance he looked at the petulant expression on the man’s face and said, ‘Sorry, but she’s accepted my invitation, her and Myfanwy. You’ll have to find food somewhere else.’ He sat nervously as the scissors continued their snipping and hoped Gareth was serious enough about his reputation to do a neat job. He paid, gave a generous tip and left, still making reassuring noises to an irate Gareth.

  ‘I’m beginning to see what Danny had to put up with,’ Gareth muttered darkly. It was liver and onions tonight, his favourite, but instead of going straight home, he went to see Cecily.

  She was contrite and submissive and he forgave her impulsive agreement to help a fellow businessman, and gave gracious permission for her to go. Cecily turned and gave Ada a wide wink.

  ‘But,’ Gareth said importantly, fear of losing her overcoming his nerves for once, ‘this shilly-shallying must stop. I want us to name a day for our wedding and decide where we’re going to live. Now, Mam would be willing for us to live there and—’

  ‘Gareth, love, I have to stay here. There’s Van and Ada and the business. No, we’ll get the top rooms decorated and start our home there. Come on, let’s go and see what alterations are needed.’

  By the time Gareth left, they had decided on a Christmas wedding and Cecily promised to go on the first free afternoon to choose a wedding dress and begin the arrangements.

  He told his mother the news in great excitement as he began to eat his shrivelled-up food, but was soon holding smelling salts under her long nose. When she had recovered sufficiently her first words were, ‘You don’t have to get married, do you?’

  ‘No Mam!’

  ‘Thank goodness for that. There’s no telling with a woman like that, seeing Danny Preston one week and accepting you the next.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Dorothy Owen. I met her in Waldo Watkins’ and she was saying how Cecily has seen Danny twice recently.’

  ‘Damn it all! And now she’s off to Porthcawl on Sunday with some man with dirty fingernails called Peter Marshall!’

  ‘What?’

  Gareth passed her the sal volatile.

  The month of August was always frantically busy, the town heaving with so many visitors it was hard to imagine where they all ate and slept. Towards the end of the month, the sisters and Gareth, sometimes with Van, managed to enjoy several of the entertainments arranged for the busy holiday period. Dancing On The Green, listening to the town’s silver band in the parks, racing and crazy sports at the beach one afternoon, and even a few evening dances when they weren’t too tied up with extra work. Everywhere they went, they met Danny.

  He greeted Cecily like an old friend, patted Gareth on the shoulder and, if Van was with them, found her some sweets from his pocket or bought her an ice cream and a balloon. He would discuss in a relaxed manner what they had all been doing during the day and seemed not to notice the way Gareth’s cheeks puffed out in anger at his constant intrusions.

  Cecily wondered how he knew exactly where they would be. Even when they made some last change of plan, he would be there. But she didn’t ask. She was going to marry Gareth.

  There was the road race on roller skates that Mrs Spencer had told Ada about and they all went to see the fun. Cecily stood at the side of the road to wait for the competitors to pass and found herself looking into the sea of faces, certain that somewhere among them would be Danny’s. To her surprise, he was competing, dressed in the costume of a gypsy fiddler. As he passed her he slowed down and waved, again knowing exactly where they would be standing
.

  There was community singing in the large park, polo to watch in the swimming pool and fashion shows organized by Dorothy’s department store. Firework displays delighted the children and there was a choral singing competition, in which Van took part, dressed in a very warm Welsh costume. Danny was there to cheer her on.

  One Sunday, Gareth was finishing off the decoration of his shop and Cecily and Van were invited to join Ada for tea with Phil and Mrs Spencer.

  ‘Looking forward to seeing you all,’ Phil said, bouncing around as he settled the three of them in the temporary seats in the van. ‘Sorry it isn’t more comfortable. Getting a car soon, I am.’ He limped around to the driving seat and they set off with a series of jerks.

  He chattered non-stop all the way through the town and Cecily was struck by the happy, relaxed relationship between him and her sister. Phil was not a handsome man and rumours abounded suggesting he was not exactly honest, but there was something about him that made criticism or censure impossible – with the exception of his driving!

  He looked at the passengers and pointed out people and places he thought would interest them, like a courier on a grand tour, but he seemed happily unaware of other vehicles, driving furiously ahead and leaving it to others to swerve and avoid a collision in a cavalier way that gave Cecily a taste of sheer panic. Ada seemed unaware of the risks he took and even pulled on the steering wheel on occasions to attract his attention to something she wanted him to see.

  Mrs Spencer was at the gate. She was dressed in a long, dark blue dress over which she wore a snow-white apron, its wide ties in a large bow at the back. She ushered them inside, remarking on Cecily’s paleness, told Van she was beautiful, and told Phil to hurry himself and get to the table before everything was cold. Ada she hugged with great affection. Cecily gave her flowers and some cordial which came in a pretty flower vase, a special offer from Corona, both of which delighted her.

  The food was wonderful. Hot pancakes and syrup, toast spread with a homemade paste of chicken and herbs, an assortment of cakes and sandwiches and plenty of hot tea. After they had eaten, they were invited to sit near the fire, which, in the thick-walled cottage was necessary as the room was constantly cool.

  Mrs Spencer stacked the dishes on the scrubbed table in the back kitchen and said, ‘I’ll see to them later. Have you seen the paper, then? Wonderful to know the Queen has had her second daughter safely. The little Princess Margaret Rose has made history, too. Hers will be the last birth at which the Secretary of State is present. Best for them too! Who wants a man about at a time like that? Terrible, I think, him a stranger and only there to make sure there’s no mistake about who is the mother.’ She handed the paper to Cecily and ran her finger down to the relevant place. Ada smiled, knowing the woman’s secret and admiring the panache with which she hid it.

  ‘What d’you think of your sister and my son, then?’ Mrs Spencer asked Cecily as they were taking their coats to leave. ‘Happy they are and that’s what counts, isn’t it?’

  Cecily didn’t get the chance to reply. Phil came limping in and calling them. Outside the engine purred and Cecily tensed herself for the maniacal drive home.

  Cecily felt she had been fed through a mangle. She felt giggly and a sudden sympathy for her niece Marged, who was constantly reprimanded for showing unexplained hilarity.

  ‘Your Willie lives over there.’ Phil turned, pointed and narrowly missed a stone wall. ‘Not there at the moment. Out with Danny I expect. Making a wireless they are now. Always making something or the other. I bought a table from them last week.’

  So that’s how Danny knows my movements, Cecily thought. Her reaction might have resulted in anger against Willie but the visit to Phil’s home had left her in the mood to chuckle instead. She sobered then, and felt a niggle of envy. The family her sister was soon to belong to was so happy and uncomplicated, and compared to Mrs Price-Jones, Mrs Spencer was the perfect mother-in-law.

  When Phil left them, breathless and laughing, outside the shop, Dorothy was waiting for them.

  ‘Dorothy? Is something wrong?’ Cecily asked as Ada unlocked the shop door. The bell tinkled its welcome as they walked inside and Dorothy glared at it as if offended by its pleasantry.

  When it had stopped, she said, ‘Only that I’m about to lose my home, thanks to your friend Bertie Richards!’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Cecily slipped off her coat and handed it unthinkingly to Ada. ‘Take this up for me, will you, love?’

  Ada took the coat and her lips tightened as she said, ‘All right, but don’t start talking until I get back. Right?’

  Cecily went to where the kettle was standing and after stirring the coals swivelled it around to the heat. It began to murmur almost immediately and before Ada had returned, minus the coats and hats, Cecily had the teapot ready to receive the boiling water.

  ‘Well?’ Ada asked her sister-in-law. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Bertie Richards has given me notice. The whole row of cottages is going to be knocked down.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘He says they’re condemned. Nice little places like that? Never! Knowing him, it’s sure to be money. Tidy them a bit he will, then find new tenants willing to pay a better rent, that’s it for sure.’

  ‘When were you told?’

  ‘A letter yesterday, telling me I have to vacate the property at the end of September. Well? Are you going to talk him out of it? Persuade him to change his mind? Or are you going to watch as I and my children are thrown into the street? Robbed of this shop, and now this!’

  ‘We’ll go this evening and talk to Bertie, find out exactly what is happening.’ Cecily poured a cup of tea for Dorothy. The look on her sister-in-law’s face was fear. She was frightened at the prospect of searching for a new home. If only our family had more men, Cecily thought angrily. Women were at a disadvantage at times like this, no matter how she tried to believe differently.

  Ada’s thoughts were similar. ‘We’ll help if it does come to a move,’ she promised. ‘And there’s Uncle Ben and Johnny Fowler, they’ll give a hand. The twins, Tomos and Trefor too, if Uncle Ben can persuade them.’

  ‘I don’t want to move! I’ve just spent money buying new linoleum for the kitchen and I’ve papered two bedrooms. I want some use of it before men come and smash it all to dust!’

  ‘You go home and we’ll talk to him,’ Cecily said.

  ‘If we learn anything we’ll call on the way home to tell you,’ Ada added.

  ‘Do what you can, will you? It’s been so hard getting everything together since Victor died, and to start again—’

  ‘We’ll do everything we can.’ Ada ushered her out into the dusty summer evening. She frowned at her sister on her return. ‘What she expects us to do I don’t know. If Bertie wants to sell, how can we stop him?’

  They went to the big house overlooking the sea and Van ran at once into the garden with Edwin. A few words were exchanged, the sisters telling them about their happy visit to the Spencers’ home. Then without explaining the reason for their visit, they followed the children out into the wide expanse of lawns and shrubbery.

  Van had dragged out their pretend shop made from empty boxes and Cecily saw the pebbles in what was their till. But the shop was empty and there was no sign of the children until a muffled laugh gave away their hiding place.

  They all pretended to search for them and even showed concern for their safety, then, laughing, first Van then Edwin slithered down from an apple tree into Bertie’s arms. He carried Van inside, Edwin following close behind. Like a great bear with his cubs, Cecily thought affectionately. Bertie loved children and it was sad they had only managed to have one.

  They were offered refreshments but refused, wanting to get home and settled down with the books to up date.

  ‘Before we go, can we ask you something, Bertie?’ Cecily said quietly.

  ‘Of course. Beryl and I want to help with any problem. Marvels you two have been. Such a b
usiness brain, Cecily, and you, Ada, well, I don’t know how Cecily would manage without you.’

  Ada smiled but the smile was sour. She was always referred to as Cecily’s assistant. Couldn’t people see she was as capable as her sister? That they were equal partners?

  ‘Everything is fine with us,’ Cecily assured him. ‘It’s Dorothy. She’s been told you’re selling her house.’

  ‘She’s right. I am, forced to by the council. Condemned it they have. The drains need replacing, the roof is in danger of collapse, and one of the walls is bowing out with the window unsafe.’

  ‘Can’t it be repaired?’

  ‘It would cost too much, and I’d have to spend a lot more than the places would be worth. I’d lose a lot of money. You’ll understand that, Cecily.’

  There he goes again! Ada thought angrily. Cecily understands but not me. I’m just the dogsbody! ‘Come on, Cecily, it’s time we left.’ Her voice was so sharp the others looked at her in surprise. In a quieter tone she added, ‘It’s been an exciting day and none of us will get any sleep tonight if we don’t get this child home soon.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Cecily stood and smiled at Ada. ‘Come on, young Van. Find your hat and coat. Monday tomorrow and we’ve all got a lot to do, haven’t we, Ada, love?’

  As they left, Cecily stopped for a moment and spoke to Bertie and Beryl and Ada waited. Cut off from important things again, she decided.

  ‘Did Bertie tell you anything Dorothy should be told?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing you need to be told, Ada, love. As for Dorothy, I think we’ll wait till tomorrow and think up the best way of telling her we failed, don’t you?’

  ‘Nothing about the business then?’

  ‘Nothing important.’

  Another decision made without consulting me, Ada fumed silently.

  Cecily didn’t tell her sister that Bertie had not been discussing Dorothy, but warning her about a series of burglaries that had taken place locally and reminding her to make sure the doors were firmly locked and bolted. Cecily didn’t see the point of worrying Ada, who was so particular about locking doors anyway. It was a big house and the normal sounds would be misinterpreted if her mind was on someone breaking in.