Many people helped where they could and it had been a regular habit for some weeks for Ada and Cecily to fill a box with food and leave it in the lane for Horse to collect. There was usually enough to provide a reasonable meal for the two people. The odd couple always called on the way back from their regular spot in the town to thank them.
Horse was back to full health and Cecily wondered how he had survived the winter living as they did. The blankets were delivered by Willie, who reported that they were received with delight, Horse’s wife declaring she had never owned anything more beautiful. So their gift was followed by a pillow, old but surely better than a hay-filled sack. Their business was thriving and they were glad to be helping the two homeless old people.
‘We’ve known them for years but do you know their real names?’ Ada asked, ‘because I don’t.’ Ada was packing their evening’s food.
‘I think he’s called Horse because of always smelling of horse liniment,’ Cecily chuckled. ‘What is even more odd is that we don’t know his wife’s name either. He always calls her Wife.’
‘Let’s ask!’
Van was out so they locked the shop door after them and went to the place where Horse and Wife lived. The landlord answered the door.
‘We’ve called to see Horse and his wife,’ Ada explained, about to walk in.
‘Sorry, but they’ve gone.’
‘Where?’
The man shrugged.
‘Why did they leave here?’ Ada asked.
‘If they don’t have the rent they don’t have the room. I’ve got plenty of people waiting to move in here, more respectable people too,’ the man blustered.
‘How much did they owe?’ Cecily asked.
‘Eight shillings and that’s before this week. Come Saturday and all I’ll get are more excuses and you can’t expect me to go on giving them a room with nothing but promises.’
‘You made an ex-soldier, wounded for his country, homeless for eight shillings?’
‘More than that come Saturday!’
They walked away sadly, wondering where the two people were sleeping that night.
‘We’ll ask Willie to keep his eyes open.’
‘His ears as well! He’s sure to hear him singing from streets away!’
Later that evening, Willie stood just inside the stable on the lane and waited for Horse to pick up the box of food. Wherever they slept, the food would be collected, he was certain of that.
Ada sent Van out at half past eight to tell him to go home. As soon as he left, Horse slipped around the corner where he had been waiting and picked up the box and hurried to the barn where they were sleeping, without the farmer being aware of his unpaying guests. Horses shared their accommodation and made it warm and cosy. They would stay for as long as the farmer was unaware of their presence. It meant getting up very early but they didn’t mind that. The nights were the most important. Pity they couldn’t heat food, but something would turn up, like it always did. Most days they could afford some soup, and cups of tea were often on offer, usually by shopkeepers as a bribe to make them move away.
His wife’s only worry was his cough. She was afraid he might be heard and then they’d be sent on their way. She fingered the coins in her pocket. Tomorrow she would buy some more cough mixture. That always helped.
It was after the trial that had sentenced Phil to nine months in prison that Ada finally had a letter from him. She had been told nothing about the trial, Phil insisting that his mother didn’t tell her when it took place. He couldn’t stand in court and listen to his crimes and hear the sentence knowing she was there, watching him, listening to it all.
But she was there. The case was in the local paper and if she hadn’t read it herself there were plenty to tell her when and where, some with sympathy, others with a less than kindly interest. Dressed in less than her usual style, she had shuffled in with the other curious members of the public, hoping Phil wouldn’t see her and cry out, tell her to go away as she feared he might. Huddled in heavy winter coats she was anonymous among the similarly dressed strangers.
She was upset when she got back to the shop and went straight into the living room and sat crouched in their father’s old armchair and stared into the fire. Cecily came as soon as the shop emptied and put her arms around her. They didn’t talk for a long time. Cecily went in and out of the shop to serve and in between made tea and sat with her sister.
All Ada said about the afternoon was, ‘He looked so small, so defenceless.’
‘Will you try again to see if Mrs Spencer will agree to your going home?’
Ada shook her head. ‘I have tried but she insists she copes better on her own, although I don’t think she leaves the house. Neighbours shop for her and she spends her time rearranging the furniture to decide which way it looks best, for when he comes home.’
It was after the shop closed one evening when there was a knock at the shop door. Cecily went to open it, saw Mrs Spencer and called Ada.
‘Mother-in-law, what a lovely surprise, come in, come and sit by the fire, it’s so cold for you to be out.’
Mrs Spencer held up a letter but didn’t step into the shop. ‘No, I won’t stay, I’ve brought you this.’ She put the letter into Ada’s hand and hurried off, ignoring the pleas for her to come in and warm herself. Ada watched her until she disappeared in the darkness then went into the living room and threw the letter onto the table. It would only be the account from the coal man, which she had paid ever since Phil had been arrested. It was as they began to clear the table after their meal that Van picked up the letter, saw the envelope and threw it towards Ada. ‘A letter from your criminal, Auntie Ada,’ she said dismissively.
It was then that Ada recognized the large scrawling writing and knew that at last Phil had written. Grasping the envelope, she ran up to the bedroom, sat on the bed in the icy cold room and opened it. Unfolding it was almost frightening. What would he say to her after all this time? Would he ask her to visit at last? Foolishly she sat with the single page folded as though the imagination of his words were sufficient for her and the real thing would be a disappointment. She pulled the chain to increase the gas-light and opened it. It was disappointingly short.
I’m sorry. I hope you will forgive me.
Nothing like this will happen again.
Knowing you’ll be there for me is my strength.
Fear that you’ll walk away is a nightmare
that makes me afraid to sleep.
All my love,
Phil.
She went at once to the cottage where her mother-in-law lived alone and read it to her. Although she pleaded, Mrs Spencer still refused to let her come home.
Cecily heard little about Danny. She knew he was working part of the time with Willie and together they were making and selling small pieces of furniture. She often glanced at men who resembled him and felt both relief and disappointment when she was mistaken. So it was a shock to hear his voice behind her as she stood outside the shop putting the sacks of bird seed and corn in the shop porch.
‘What are you doing heaving those sacks about, Cecily?’
She turned, saw him and afraid he would see the confusion in her eyes, the longing and the dread, she turned quickly away. ‘Willie is having a few days off. He and Annette are going to take little Victor to visit his mother and stepfather.’
‘I know that, I work with Willie every day. Haven’t you got someone else to do the heavy lifting?’
‘We manage fine.’
‘I’ll come and help put it back in, when you close tonight.’
‘No. Thanks, Danny, but no.’ She went back into the shop and closed the door firmly.
That evening she brought the display from the porch in much earlier than usual.
‘I’ll do that for the next few days too, in case Danny isn’t easily discouraged,’ she told Ada.
‘Gareth hasn’t been in recently,’ Ada said, one thought jumping to another. ‘He’s stopped calling in for fruit ea
ch week.’
‘His mother insists he buys it in Waldo’s. Ours isn’t as good apparently, even though we buy from the same wholesaler and give any past its best on to Jack Simmons.’
‘We don’t see much of our Dorothy either, not that I’m complaining about that!’
‘We’re dangerous women, Ada, love. You with Phil in prison and me, well, every mother dreads having someone like me as a daughter-in-law.’ They smiled but there was no humour in their eyes.
‘I’ve been thinking. Would it be a good idea to invite them all for some sort of family party? We can think of some excuse, can’t we?’
‘Ada! I’ve had the same thought! Yes, we’ll get it sorted and Van can go around with invitations. They won’t refuse if Van asks.’
They began making notes of who to invite and what food to prepare and for a while at least they felt less isolated from them all.
That night, they heard a commotion outside and when they opened the door, footsteps ran off and they found Jack Simmons with blood running down his face, his clothes torn.
‘I thought you promised no more fighting,’ Ada said, guiding him into the shop.
‘They were tormenting poor old Horse. I tried to stop them,’ he said, a blocked nose making his voice sound strange.
Cecily rang the police station and made a complaint. Jack knew who the men were and the police took a statement and went in search of them. Justice would be done via their fathers; the constable knew there was no need for a court case. Their parents would make sure they apologized and they knew that if it did happen again, there would be no leniency.
For a while Jack was a star. People called to tell him he brave he was, and gifts were given – many of which he took to Horse and his wife, who also gloried in his fame. A room was offered to them and they stayed for two nights before – afraid of not finding the rent – they left. Jack took the sister of one of the hooligans to the pictures and her brother nodded approval. Things were looking up for Jack Simmons.
On Wednesday afternoon, when the shop closed for half day, Ada went to see Mrs Spencer and Cecily decided to go to see Peter. The day was cold but dry and the garage was in the hands of Peter’s apprentice, so they went for a walk. They set off in Cecily’s car and drove to Dinas Powys to walk across the common and down the green lane where few people went, enjoying the quiet, appreciating the lack of people. It was a change from talking to customers all day and they were both content to walk and allow their thoughts to wander over previous places they had seen, and times they had shared.
They found a place to sit and enjoy the flask of tea Cecily had brought and eat the sandwiches and cakes. It was chilly but they sat close, sharing each other’s warmth. Peter smiled. ‘I’ll be glad when summer comes and the life at the beach starts again. I love to watch the families having fun. Not having much money doesn’t affect their enjoyment. Mam fills a basket with food and some pop; children only want a bucket and spade and a picnic to be happy all day long.’
‘Van missed out on all that,’ Cecily said. ‘When Mam was here she used to take her sometimes, but Ada and I have been too busy, especially since Dadda died.’
‘Don’t feel guilty. You and Ada have given her a happy childhood. Don’t think she has suffered from deprivation; she’s always known she is loved. That’s more important than picnics.’
As usual, a few hours with Peter made her feel more cheerful and confident. It was with regret she parted from him and began to drive home after returning him to his house. Loneliness hit her as a corner was turned and he was lost to her sight.
She was taking a short cut along country lanes when the car began to splutter and finally stop. There were no houses near and she was blocking the lane for anyone who drove along it. What could it be? She took out the starting handle and tried ineffectually to restart it but achieved only a groan from the engine. She stepped out and began to walk. She had no idea where she would find the nearest house but decided that as she hadn’t remembered passing one recently she would walk in the direction she had been travelling. She walked a long way, then disheartened turned and walked back to the car. She had no idea what to do. Leaving it where it was wasn’t a choice but what could she do? She couldn’t push it. She just hoped that another car would come and be able to help. The lane was twisted and had high hedges on both sides so she came back to the car suddenly and there, standing beside it, was Danny.
‘Run out of petrol, have you? The efficient Miss Owen forgetting something as basic as petrol?’ He was laughing.
‘Danny! Where did you come from?’
‘I saw you turning into the lane and followed. I’m repairing a farm gate a bit further on.’
‘How much further? I walked for about ten minutes but didn’t see a house.’
‘I’ll drive around to get in front of you and tow you to a garage, how’s that?’ He was laughing again. ‘Running out of petrol! Dear me, I’d never have believed it!’
Angry now, she said, ‘It’s Willie’s job every week to fill up the car and the van. He’s away and he forgot. Right?’
‘Tut tut. Blaming poor Willie Morgan now. Really, Miss Owen the cold, efficient business woman, forgetting petrol. Tut tut. I’ll have to tell Peter how I rescued you.’ Still laughing, he reversed his van away and she heard him turn into a gateway and drive off. A few minutes later she heard him coming back, this time in front of her and he took out a rope and tackle and fastened it to the front of her car.
‘I’ll drive slowly. Just steer carefully and we’ll soon get you to a garage,’ he said.
The car seemed slow to move and he shouted, ‘The brake, woman! Take the brake off.’
‘I have! I’m not stupid!’ she lied. ‘It must have been stuck on a stone or something!’ She released the brake, hoping he hadn’t seen, and they began to move along the lane. To her alarm he towed her back to Peter’s garage. Then with a laugh he drove on again, this time to Peter’s house. He stopped outside, came to the window of her car and sounded the horn. He waited until he saw Peter’s face looking out of the window, then waved, the face disappeared and they drove on. When the car was filled, Cecily couldn’t find the starting handle. Danny held it up and smiled at her.
‘Come and have something to eat first,’ he said, approaching the car door. ‘There’s a little place not far away. I’ll drive you there.’
‘I want to go home. If you don’t give me the starting handle I’ll get on a bus.’
His voice changed and he said, ‘Come on, Cecily. Friends we are, and I did rescue you from a difficult situation, didn’t I? You can spare me an hour.’
She opened the car door and he helped her up and hugged her briefly before setting off for the cafe he’d mentioned.
As usual they talked easily and slipped into their longstanding friendship with ease. They talked about Ada and Phil, and Willie and Annette and how happy they were. They even talked about Jessie, whom he admitted loving but was treating badly. ‘She doesn’t understand that I can’t sit and talk to her in the evenings, I have to be doing something. She hates it when I spend my time in the shed. Willie and I are trying to build a business and that’s what I want to do. She’d benefit once we get the business underway but she can’t, or won’t, see that.’
‘Now there’s going to be a baby,’ she said softly.
‘I should have been more careful.’
‘Jessie wants this baby. But she’ll need help to bring it up.’
‘She’ll get that. But I won’t be there hour by hour to see her grow.’
‘I think Ada would have liked a child.’
‘And you? D’you think of Gareth and what might have been?’ She was about to speak when he added, ‘No point regretting anything now, mind. He’s out and about with your sister-in-law Rhonwen. Lovely girl she is. Gentle and kindly and surprisingly, his mother approves. Serious they are, according to Jessie.’
It was a shock for Cecily to realize that somewhere deep in her heart she had hoped that, one day
, she and Gareth might have found each other again.
The day had been full of twists and turns emotionally and she was happy to have met and talked to Danny, a reminder of how well they got on, but there was Peter too, and the way Danny had made sure they had been seen together. Then being told that she and Gareth were over. Never to revive their love affair had been a final disappointment. Forcing a smile, she went in to tell her sister about the events of her afternoon off.
‘I went to see Mother-in-law,’ Ada told her. ‘I read Phil’s letter to her again and pointed out that he believed and hoped that I was at home, waiting for him. I pleaded but as usual she refuses to let me return.’
Cecily’s attempt to make her sister laugh with exaggerated details about her afternoon failed and both were subdued when they went to bed.
Peter had been upset at seeing Danny and Cecily together. There was little hope of her loving him and making his remaining years happy, but putting aside his own regrets, he was worried about her continuing to be seen with Danny. There was no happiness for her there. He banked up the fire but didn’t go to bed. Midnight passed and still he sat, emptying a bottle of beer, something he rarely did, and stopping once to make sandwiches which he couldn’t eat as they reminded him of the picnic he and Cecily had shared.
At five in the morning he had made a decision. He packed a small suitcase and left notes for the baker and milkman. He emptied the larder and put the perishable food outside for the birds to finish. At eight he drove to the garage and arranged for the apprentice and a retired mechanic to look after the place for a week or so and drove to Owen’s shop.
Goodbye to Dreams Page 28