Pontypridd 05 - Such Sweet Sorrow

by Catrin Collier

  But if William hadn’t attacked Ben, who had? He swung his legs out of the bed and reached for his clothes, all excitement at his first sexual experience fading to a dull, embarrassing and humiliating ache. Someone had done the right thing in hurting Ben, but he wasn’t surprised that whoever the hero was, he hadn’t waited around to claim Diana as a prize, because whatever else, she certainly wasn’t fit to be the wife of any decent man, not now. Not after an experience like that.

  Diana walked slowly up the hill, stopping every time she heard a footstep ring out into the darkness. Reason told her it wouldn’t be Tony’s, but reason didn’t prevent her from hoping. It was only when she reached the halfway point and followed the broken white line past the entrance to Factory Lane that she started to think through the full implications of what had happened. It was then she realised that even if Tony had run after her, there was nothing she could say or do to undo the damage to their relationship. The look in his eyes after she had told him that she had been raped had been condemnatory and final. He would never, never, smile at her again as he had done when she’d climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever again. Any love he had felt for her had died the moment she’d told him he wasn’t the first man to touch her. And even if it hadn’t, it wouldn’t make any difference. How could it, when she’d been repelled and sickened by his touch? Why was the filthy act even called ‘making love’ when it involved so much pain and degradation for a woman? Were there any women who actually enjoyed it? Would she have been any different if Tony really had been the first?

  There was no point in even thinking about it, not when tonight’s experience had only served to confirm her suspicions that she’d be repulsed by the touch of any and every man. Ben Springer had marked her as irretrievably as if he’d branded her. She was not only soiled goods, she was damaged. She loved Tony with all her heart and soul, as much as she was capable of loving any man, yet loving him was not enough. She hadn’t been able to bear his nakedness near her own. Kisses exchanged in the comparative safety of a public place, like the street after dark, had been endurable. But only because there was no risk of anything more intimate happening.

  After what Ben and Tony had done, no other man would want her, which was probably just as well now she’d found out she couldn’t be a wife in every sense of the word. Poor Tony! She’d hurt him so much, simply by falling in love with him. He deserved better than her. Hopefully when he left Pontypridd he’d be able to put her and this dreadful night behind him. But where did that leave her? What did she have to look forward to? A spinsterish old age, a dried-up aunthood to William’s and her cousins’ future children.

  She stared down at the white line on the kerb wishing she had the courage to end it. There was no point in living any longer. She had hurt the one man she loved, brought shame on her family by allowing Ben Springer to do what he had to her. She wasn’t even a proper woman. Women made men happy, including the ones who could be bought in station yard, and she couldn’t even offer her man that much.

  ‘Diana or Will?’ Evan Powell opened the kitchen door as Diana stepped into the passage, barely giving her time to pull the blackout curtain.

  She dried her tears in the thick, heavy material Evan’s common-law wife, Phyllis, had bought to shroud the doors and windows, and called back, ‘It’s Diana.’

  ‘You all right?’ he asked, picking up on the tremor in her voice.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘You don’t sound it.’

  ‘I’m just cold, it’s freezing outside.’

  ‘Is Will with you?’

  ‘No, he went into Cardiff with Tina.’

  ‘You didn’t walk up the hill by yourself in the blackout?’

  ‘Tony brought me home,’ she lied quickly.

  ‘You look half frozen. Come into the kitchen and get warm.’

  ‘I’d rather go straight to bed if you don’t mind, Uncle Evan. I’m tired, and Friday’s always a long day.’

  ‘Have a cup of tea first.’

  ‘No, really.’

  ‘Come on.’

  Her uncle wasn’t usually so persistent. She straightened her skirt as she walked down the stone-flagged passage, wondering if her uncle and Phyllis would guess what had happened to her. But then why should they? No one had guessed what Ben Springer had done to her, and she had been in much more of a state then. Evan was holding the door open. Heat laden with wholesome cooking smells blasted towards her, warm and comforting, and there sitting in an easy chair next to the hearth, was a small, thin woman with a careworn face, who looked smaller, older and more shrunken than she had done behind the distancing barrier of prison screens.

  The glossy, curly hair Diana remembered so well was dry and wiry; more grey than black when viewed close up. The hands that had been soft and cared for were gnarled and scarred by deep cuts. But it was still her mother.

  ‘Mam!’ Diana flew across the kitchen. ‘I thought you had years more to do.’ She hugged her mother, unable to stop the flood of tears she’d held in check since she’d left Tony.

  ‘Time off for good behaviour,’ Megan replied in a hoarse, cracked voice. ‘Come on now, girl, don’t cry.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me Mam was coming home?’ Diana demanded of her uncle.

  ‘Because I didn’t want any fuss,’ Megan answered for him. ‘There’ve been so many conflicting reports going around the prison since the war started: first that they were thinking of releasing people from sentences that didn’t involve violence, then they weren’t. I didn’t know whether I had grounds for hope or not until last night when I found that I was going to be one of the lucky ones.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re actually here.’ Diana was holding on to her mother as though she was afraid she’d disappear at any moment.

  ‘Stand back and let me take a good look at you. It’s a real treat to see people without bars between me and them.’ Megan looked Diana up and down.

  ‘You’ve grown up,’ she declared, stifling a sharp pang of regret that she hadn’t been around to witness the event.

  ‘Will’s going to be so surprised when he finds you here.’

  ‘So I gather,’ Megan said acidly. ‘I hear he’s joined the Welsh Guards.’

  ‘With Glan next door and the Ronconi boys.’

  ‘I thought he’d have more sense after what happened to your father.’

  ‘This war will be a very different affair to the last one, Megan.’ Evan’s attempt at reassurance failed miserably.

  ‘It’s a war,’ Megan asserted flatly, ‘and that means boys will get killed.’

  ‘Not ours.’

  ‘Let’s pray you’re right.’ She turned back to Diana, taking her hands into hers. ‘Come on then, tell me what you’ve been doing, without a warder listening in on us for once?’

  Diana looked down at the skin on her mother’s fingers: it felt as though she were holding twigs covered in sandpaper.

  ‘Tea first.’ Phyllis poured out two cups and pushed one towards Diana, and one towards Megan.

  ‘As it looks as though these two are settling in for a night’s gossip, I think we’d better go to bed and leave them to it, love.’ Evan put his arm around Phyllis’s shoulders.

  ‘Please don’t go on my account, Evan,’ Megan pleaded. ‘You’re making me feel as though I’m throwing you out of your own kitchen.’

  ‘I’ve work in the morning and young Brian will be up early to keep Phyllis busy. We’ll talk tomorrow night.’ Evan led Phyllis towards the door. ‘But I’d like to say, welcome home, Megan. It’s good to have you back.’

  ‘I’ll only stay as long as it takes me to get my own home together again, Evan.’

  ‘Your home is here, with your children and us,’ he contradicted firmly. He’d only recognised Megan when he had walked in after work because of her resemblance to her mother. Her weight had practically halved in prison, and the harsh treatment had aged her twenty years. He’d always been fond of Megan, and after his brother�
��s death he had found it easy to transfer the affection he’d felt for his brother to his brother’s family.

  ‘We’ll see, but in the meantime thank you for looking after Will and Diana for me.’

  ‘Didn’t they tell you, they’ve been looking after me,’ he winked as he followed Phyllis through the door and up the stairs.

  ‘Are you really all right, Mam?’ Diana asked as she moved her chair closer to her mother’s.

  ‘Just a bit giddy, that’s all. It’s been a big day. I still can’t believe I’m sitting here, in Uncle Evan’s back kitchen and not behind a mesh screen in prison. It’s so good to be able to touch you after all this time.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Diana leaned forward and impulsively hugged and kissed her mother.

  ‘Get on with you.’ Megan pushed her daughter away because she was dangerously close to tears. ‘I’ve a lot to catch up on, so it seems. Elizabeth leaving Evan, and Phyllis moving in. I never thought he’d find the courage to live openly with her, although I suspected that something was going on there for years.’

  ‘Isn’t it marvellous? They’re so happy together.’

  ‘God knows Evan deserves as much happiness as he can get after suffering Elizabeth’s wifely ministrations for over twenty years. And speaking of husbands and wives, he tells me you and Will are both courting strong,’ she added artfully.

  ‘I think Will was hoping to buy Tina a ring this afternoon.’ Diana tried to deflect her mother’s interest from her affairs to her brother’s.

  ‘It’s serious between them, then?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Then why in hell did the fool go and join up?’ Megan spooned sugar into the tea Phyllis had poured. ‘You think they’ll get married?’

  ‘I don’t know, what with the war and everything –’

  ‘Damned war!’ Megan cursed angrily.

  ‘One good thing has come out of it.’

  ‘It has?’

  ‘You’re home.’

  ‘And all the boys have gone or are going. Evan told me Eddie’s been in the Guards for months. Signed up a couple of days after marrying Jenny Griffiths. Something happen there I should know about?’

  ‘None of us knows what really happened between Eddie and Jenny, other than he seemed to want to get out of Pontypridd in a hurry. But Will and the Ronconi boys signed up in the Guards because of Eddie. They’re hoping to be able to serve with him.’

  ‘And Haydn’s in ENSA.’ Megan switched the conversation to Evan’s oldest son. ‘Singing for his country and married. I noticed that Evan couldn’t stop talking about her, as opposed to his other daughter-in-law.’

  ‘Jane’s a sweet little thing, you’ll like her.’

  ‘An orphan, Phyllis said.’

  ‘She might be an orphan, but she’s got enough gumption in her to stand up to Haydn.’

  ‘Good. Apart from Evan, the men in this family always have had too much of their own way.’

  ‘I can’t see Tina letting Will get away with anything.’

  ‘And Maud’s still well and happy in Italy, and Bethan …’ Megan began, referring to Evan’s eldest daughter who’d married the local doctor.

  ‘… has the most beautiful baby girl you’ve ever seen,’ Diana interrupted excitedly. ‘Just wait until you see Andrew. He’s the most besotted father in Ponty.’

  ‘I can imagine. I’m glad it’s worked out for those two. And Charlie’s married to Alma Moore. I don’t think any of us saw that coming.’

  ‘She’s good for him, and he’s been marvellous to Will and Eddie.’

  ‘That just about covers everyone except you.’ Megan turned her dark, perceptive eyes on her daughter. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me anything about yourself?’

  ‘I’m happy. Wyn Rees is a wonderful boss –’

  ‘So work’s fine. What about your free time?’ Megan interrupted.

  ‘That’s fine too.’

  ‘Really? What’s this I hear about you and Tony Ronconi?’

  ‘We’ve been seeing one another, but I told him tonight I don’t want to get engaged or married. Not now he’s joined up.’

  ‘You don’t love him?’

  ‘He’s going away. No one knows what’s going to happen, everything’s so unsettled.’

  ‘You’re not prepared to wait for him?’

  ‘It seems silly to get married to a man I might not see for years.’

  Megan might have spent the last few years physically separated from her daughter, but she knew her, and knew her well. ‘So you quarrelled with Tony tonight?’

  Before Diana had time to answer, the front door closed and William came whistling down the passage. He opened the door and stood rooted in the doorway.

  ‘Mam! How on earth did you get here?’

  Megan rose unsteadily to her feet, and for the first time Diana realised just how frail her mother had become.

  William dropped his hat on to the table and scooped Megan into his arms.

  ‘I had no idea you’d filled out so much.’ Megan began to cry, seeing a mirror image of her long-dead husband in her son, even down to the fate that was leading him to war.

  ‘Don’t cry, Mam,’ William consoled clumsily, knowing exactly what his mother was thinking. ‘You can’t keep a bad penny from turning up. I’ll be back,’ he promised recklessly. ‘I promise you, Mam, unlike Dad, I’ll be back.’

  Chapter Four

  William reached out for the alarm clock that was shrilling and rattling in the biscuit tin next to his bed. He squinted through one eye as he silenced it; it was no use, he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, let alone the clock. The blackout curtains with which Phyllis had covered every inch of window in the house cut out even the faintest glimmer of light but … as the alarm had only just sounded there was no harm in stealing five more minutes.

  Pulling the bedclothes over his head, he snuggled into the pillow and closed his eyes. Friday morning! It wasn’t as bad as the outdoor market mornings of Wednesday and Saturday when the population of every surrounding valley poured into Pontypridd, but the butcher’s stall he ran for Charlie in the indoor market still had to be opened. He didn’t like Friday’s customers as much as his Saturday regulars. The only people who could afford to patronise the market twenty-four hours ahead of the Saturday-night knockdown bargain auction, when the remaining perishable goods were sold off by the traders for whatever they could get, were the crache. And serving the crache meant being careful. No calling any woman ‘love’ or man ‘mate’, not that there’d be many men shopping. It would be ‘sir’ and ‘madam’ and bowing and scraping, and he’d have to man the stall by himself because the shop would command all of Charlie and Alma’s time and attention. He’d be lucky if one of them would be able to spare ten minutes to bring across his midday dinner of meat-filled baps and tea.

  He hadn’t realised how much he’d miss Eddie, especially in the shop, until after his cousin had gone. Butchering was hard, physical work, but when he had asked Charlie in the recruiting office how he expected Alma to manage both businesses without them, the Russian had muttered something about giving the market stallholder notice. Surely Charlie didn’t expect Alma to keep the shop going by herself with no help at all? Just humping the bins of kidneys, liver, tripe and offal Charlie had taken to buying from the slaughterhouse since meat rationing had been enforced, would be too much for her. And that was without the cooking, pressing and slicing.

  Perhaps it might be as well if the army did turn Charlie down. It wasn’t as though he was desperately needed. There were enough single blokes to fight the war without dragging in the married men. But then how could he really regard himself as single, when there was Tina to consider?

  ‘Letter for you, Will,’ Evan shouted up the stairs.

  Clutching his pyjamas close to his shivering body, William slid out of bed, hopping in a mockery of an Indian war dance as his bare feet hit the freezing linoleum. He opened his door, grateful for the warmth of the strip of jute carpeting o
n the landing and stairs.

  ‘It’s Ministry of War.’ Evan handed it over.

  The door to the downstairs front room that had remained empty since Haydn had left, opened, and Megan stood in the doorway, wearing the old brown dressing gown William remembered from his childhood. He glanced at her as he slit the top of the envelope with his thumb.

  ‘Well?’ Megan demanded tensely.

  ‘They want me to report to training camp on Monday.’

  ‘This coming Monday?’

  William nodded, avoiding his mother’s eye. ‘As I’ve only two working days left, I’d better let Charlie know before I set up the stall. He’s either going to have to find someone to take it over, or give it up before next Wednesday.’

  ‘Something wrong, Will?’

  Diana was standing on the stairs already dressed for work, her hair neatly waved, a touch of lipstick heightening the colour of her mouth.

  ‘Monday,’ he answered briefly. ‘The Ronconi boys will probably be going the same time.’ He kissed his mother’s crinkled cheek. ‘We’ll have a couple of days together, Mam.’

  ‘Yes.’ She tried to smile at him before returning to her room, but the smile didn’t touch the frost blighting her eyes.

  William climbed back up the stairs. Three days! So much to do in such a short space of time. Tina had wanted an engagement party; it would have to be held on Sunday, or left until his embarkation leave. Seven weeks from now he could be facing the German guns on the French borders, but before then he’d have to face something far worse – Tina’s father.

  He bundled his clothes under his arm and carried them down to the wash-house. Suddenly the familiar routine was filled with poignancy. He sensed his whole world closing in around him. Ahead loomed another. A strange, alien environment full of foreboding and menace. Would he have killed his first man two months from now?

  He pushed open the door to the kitchen, appreciating the warmth that flowed towards him. Phyllis was cutting bread on the table and his uncle was heaping small coal on the fire to bank down the flames.