Pontypridd 05 - Such Sweet Sorrow

by Catrin Collier

  ‘This idiot stepped in front of us,’ she complained through Wyn’s open window.

  ‘Diana?’

  ‘A sore and aching Diana.’ She rubbed her head as her uncle shone his torch inside the car.

  ‘I suggest you get your young man to drive you home so you can put some cold water and vinegar on that bruise before it starts to swell.’

  ‘I’ll get her home now.’ Wyn started the engine and began to wind up the window, but not quickly enough to cut out the conversation between the two officers.

  ‘But he’s a bloody pansy!’

  ‘Language, lad, and I’d be very careful what I’d say if I were you. Particularly about one of the town’s retailers and employers. You could get caught with a massive fine for repeating slander of that nature.’

  ‘Looks like you’ve done wonders for my reputation.’ Wyn turned the wheel and followed the road up the Graig hill.

  ‘Any time you need a girlfriend you know where to come,’ Diana replied flippantly.

  ‘You mean that?’

  ‘I’d be only too happy to be of some use to a man,’ she replied, unable to keep the irony from her voice.

  ‘Then how about coming to tea on Sunday?’

  ‘Tea? In the New Inn?’

  ‘At home with my father and sister.’

  ‘I’d like to if I can.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that Will might be getting engaged.’

  ‘To Tony Ronconi’s sister?’

  ‘Now that’s an idea. I’ll make a deal with you. If there’s no party I’ll have tea in your house, and if there is, you come to it with me. That way no one can shower me with sympathy over Tony.’

  ‘Is that what you want?’

  ‘That’s most definitely what I want,’ she answered firmly.

  Chapter Six

  ‘Early for chapel, aren’t you?’ Wyn’s father carped from the depths of the bed set in front of the fire.

  ‘I’m not going to chapel.’ Wyn walked in from the passageway. When his father had become bedridden, he had insisted on taking up residence in the ‘middle room’ of the comfortable semi-detached he shared with his son and daughter. Wyn would have preferred him to have moved into the rarely-used front parlour because it could be shut off from the rest of the house; Myrtle the largest bedroom because it was close to the upstairs bathroom, but he insisted on the middle room because in addition to serving as living room it also acted as the sole passageway between the kitchen and the hall, a distinct asset when his only interests in life were monitoring the comings and goings of the household and eliciting sympathy from visitors.

  ‘Then why are you all prettied up like that?’ the old man enquired scathingly. Wyn was wearing a white boiled shirt and starched collar, his favourite dark red tie and his best suit which had been brushed and pressed to pristine condition.

  ‘Going out.’

  The invalid lifted his head from the pillows Myrtle had plumped up for him and looked out of the window at a vista of grey skies and gathering stormclouds. ‘Can’t go for a walk in the park on an afternoon like this.’

  ‘I’m going to Ronconi’s.’

  ‘To sit with the tram crews?’

  ‘There’s a private party in the restaurant they’ve opened in Taff Street,’ Wyn said evenly, ignoring the gibe about the crews.

  ‘And you’ve been invited?’

  ‘A girl asked me to go with her.’

  ‘Girl? You with a girl?’

  ‘Diana, the one who works in our High Street shop.’

  ‘Our? There is no “our”, boy. It’s all mine and don’t you forget it.’

  Wyn walked into the back kitchen where his newly polished shoes lay where he’d left them, outside the wash-house door. ‘If you’ve no objection, I may bring her back for supper,’ he murmured casually as he carried them through.

  ‘Objection! I’ve been waiting for you to bring a girl into this house for ten years.’ For the first time since his father had taken to his bed, Wyn actually saw a smile on his face. ‘It’s serious then?’

  ‘Diana’s a friend. A good one.’

  ‘But she could be more?’

  ‘Don’t push, Dad.’

  ‘If I don’t, you never will.’ His father settled back on the bed.

  ‘Is there anything I can get you before I go?’ Wyn asked when he’d finished lacing on his shoes.

  ‘Myrtle can see to me when she gets back from the Troop Comforts Fund meeting.’

  ‘That might not be for hours. You know how committees go on, so if you want anything, ask now.’

  ‘Just the radio on low, perhaps.’ Wyn obliged. ‘Not that low,’ he snapped, ‘and not that loud either.’

  Eventually Wyn hit a sound level that elicited no criticism. ‘Do you want a cup of tea, Dad?’ he asked.

  ‘So soon after my dinner? You want me to die of indigestion?’

  ‘You might get thirsty. How about I bring you a bottle of lemonade?’

  ‘That would be fine if I had the strength to lift it.’

  ‘I’ll pour you a glass.’

  ‘And let it get flat before I drink it? You know I can’t abide flat lemonade. No, you go off and have a good time. Don’t worry about me, Myrtle will see to me when she gets back.’

  Wyn counted silently to ten in a desperate effort to ignore his father’s air of whining martyrdom. ‘Here –’ he propped a cane his father used to rap on the dividing wall between their house and next-door, against the bed. ‘I’ll warn Mrs Edwards I’m going out and you’ll be alone for an hour or two.’

  ‘There’s no need to bother the neighbours,’ his father interrupted sharply.

  ‘Would you rather I waited until Myrtle came back?’

  ‘As your social life is obviously more important to you than my health and comfort, just go, will you.’

  ‘Well if you’re sure you have everything you need, I will,’ Wyn answered smoothly, knowing full well that the last thing his father wanted was to be taken at his word. ‘See you later.’

  ‘With the girl?’

  ‘If she’s not too tired.’

  It wasn’t hard to walk away from the cantankerous, manipulative old man. It was only later, after Wyn had crossed Gelliwastad Road and was halfway down Penuel Lane, that he remembered the strong, upright, proud man his father had been. He almost turned back before recollecting that man had gone for ever. The whining invalid who ruled his and Myrtle’s every waking minute with a rod of iron had supplanted him, transforming their lives into a never-ending routine of tedious, joyless duty. The last thing he could afford to do was yield to the tyrant’s demands any more than he already had. For Myrtle’s sake as well as his own.

  Diana had been too busy on Saturday and Sunday morning to visit Ronconi’s café even if she’d had the inclination to do so. Saturday was taken up with work, and Sunday morning went in helping Phyllis and her mother bake for William’s engagement party. As Evan had invited her Uncle Huw and Charlie and Alma up for Sunday dinner to celebrate Megan’s homecoming, the house was full of noise and high-pitched brittle laughter that accentuated the tension caused by the war and the imminent departure of William. Everyone was being far too cheerful, especially her mother, but for a few hectic hours she managed to relegate all thoughts of Tony to the back of her mind; however, when she found herself packed alongside her mother, Bethan and the baby in Andrew’s car on the way down the Graig hill to the Ronconis’ Taff Street restaurant, she remembered, and wished she’d had the sense to plead illness – any excuse rather than face Tony after the embarrassment of that night.

  Wyn was waiting for her outside Penuel Chapel. He smiled when he spotted her climbing out of the car with a pile of biscuit tins balanced in her arms.

  ‘You’re early.’ She forced a reciprocal smile as he came to greet her.

  ‘Mrs Powell, Mrs John, Doctor.’ He lifted his hat to Megan, Bethan and Andrew.

  ‘You must be Wy
n Rees, I’ve heard a lot about you.’ Andrew, the only one with a free hand, extended it to Wyn who shook it vigorously.

  ‘Allow me, Mrs Powell.’ Wyn relieved Megan of the pile of tins she was carrying.

  ‘Seems I have a lot to thank you for, Mr Rees.’ Megan looked Wyn up and down, anxious to form her own opinion of Diana’s boss, after listening to William’s less than flattering description.

  ‘I’m lucky to have found Diana, Mrs Powell. She’s a good worker.’

  ‘Are you lot going to stand outside all day gossiping?’ William was waiting in the open doorway, Tina wearing an enormous smile and a new, red and green crepe dress, hanging on to his arm.

  ‘Do I get to kiss my new cousin-in-law?’ Without waiting for a reply Andrew kissed Tina on the cheek.

  ‘Hey, John, layoff, there’s no such thing as a cousin-in- law,’ William protested.

  ‘Looks like there is now,’ Bethan laughed, shifting the baby to a more comfortable position in her arms.

  ‘You look far too gorgeous to be with him.’ Determined to give no one cause to pity her, Diana nudged Tina with her elbow as she carried the tins into the restaurant towards a long table that was already groaning with sandwiches that must have taken up the whole of the Ronconis’ ham and butter ration for a month. Besides the ham, cheese and chicken sandwiches, there were pies, pasties, sausage rolls, biscuits and a multitude of cakes of every sort, size and description, including a selection of fancies spread with icing that had attracted crowds of sugar-starved children. Diana opened her tins and moved the plates around in a futile attempt to make room for her family’s offerings.

  ‘You’re going to need another table,’ Wyn advised as he hovered at her elbow with the tins he’d taken from her mother.

  Diana looked around the crowded room for someone to help them. Charlie and Alma were standing talking to Bethan and Andrew, the baby’s tiny hands curled around Charlie’s powerful fingers; William and Tina were still at the door surrounded by friends, Tina half buried beneath a mounting pile of parcels that had been presented to them. There was no sign of Tony, but she spotted Angelo filling the tea urn behind the counter and called to him.

  ‘You’ve met Wyn Rees.’ She effected the introduction as Angelo and Alfredo brought another table to join the bank against the wall that held the buffet.

  Angelo nodded as he set down the table. Alfredo spread a cloth and Wyn and Diana moved plates on to it. The boys left them and returned to the counter with a cursory nod, but Diana looked up in time to catch Angelo’s eye. She wished she hadn’t. There was condemnation and anger in his fleeting glance, and something else, something she suspected wouldn’t have been there if she’d brought anyone other than Wyn to the party. She looked back to William and Tina. Her brother’s arm was wrapped around Tina’s waist and there was a subdued look about him she hadn’t seen before.

  She wondered if Tina had ‘volunteered’ to sleep in the café one night so she and Will could experiment as she and Tony had done. If they had, it must have ended more successfully than her episode with Tony.

  ‘Isn’t that your uncle?’ Wyn asked as Evan walked in with Phyllis and their small son Brian, Huw Davies trailing behind them.

  ‘Both uncles.’ Her heart missed a beat as Tony walked up the stairs from the basement kitchen with lipstick smeared over his cheek and collar and Judy Crofter, a short, incredibly silly blonde from Leyshon Street in tow. ‘Doesn’t Uncle Huw look odd without his uniform?’ she babbled, scarcely knowing what she was saying.

  ‘That’s Constable Davies?’

  ‘His helmet hides his bald patch and what’s left of his ginger hair. Come on, I know you’ve met him, but he’ll sulk if I don’t formally introduce you.’

  Wyn gripped her fingers reassuringly as she slipped her hand into his. ‘You all right?’ he whispered as he saw Tony staring at them.

  ‘Perfectly,’ she gushed.

  ‘I don’t think I should have come.’ Tony’s gaze made him feel like a gatecrasher. ‘It looks like this is a family occasion.’

  She gave him as close an approximation of Tina’s adoring look at William as she could manage. ‘Don’t be a silly goose, and thank you,’ she said in a voice designed to carry to Tony. ‘I’d love to have supper at your house.’

  William wound up the gramophone Trevor Lewis had brought down in the back of his car while Tina turned the pages of the record book carefully so as not to chip the delicate edges of the fragile records.

  ‘I’m amazed you’re still with us, Laura,’ Andrew declared tactlessly as he carried his daughter over to where Laura was sitting.

  ‘It’s not through choice.’ She patted her swollen abdomen. ‘Tina?’ she called to her sister, ‘put on a rousing jazz piece. A whirl with Andrew round the floor just might be the kick-start I need to get young Laura going.’

  ‘Oh no you don’t.’ Andrew took the vacant chair next to hers, and clutched his daughter close. ‘If anyone’s going to be responsible for that, it has to be Trevor.’

  ‘But he can’t dance.’

  ‘No one’s perfect.’

  ‘And you are?’ Bethan raised her eyebrows as she joined them.

  ‘Far from it, but I’m not foolhardy enough to foxtrot with Laura.’

  ‘Are there no brave men left?’ Laura wailed theatrically.

  ‘Only in the army,’ William crowed.

  ‘I’ll speak to you after you’ve met your first Sergeant Major,’ Andrew responded.

  ‘No one will be able to resist this piece,’ Tina set the needle down on the rousing refrain of ‘I can’t dance, don’t ask me’. Glan Richards made a beeline for Tina’s sister, Gina. Alma dragged a reluctant Charlie on to the square that the Ronconi boys had marked out for use as a dance floor in the back room, Wyn Rees and Diana joined them, and soon they were lost to sight behind a dozen other couples.

  ‘I think your parents must have invited half the Graig,’ Andrew commented to Laura as he looked around the crowded restaurant.

  ‘Just family and friends, plus everyone who has boys leaving in the next week or two.’

  ‘All these boys have joined up!’ Bethan exclaimed.

  ‘Let’s hope they all come back,’ Trevor said as he carried a tray of orange juices towards them.

  ‘Why is Diana with Wyn Rees?’ Tina asked as she bounded up to change the record. ‘I know she and Tony have had a spat, but someone should tell her she’s picked the wrong sex to make Tony jealous.’

  ‘I’m not sure she is trying to make Tony jealous. She always has been rather fond of Wyn,’ Laura answered in a flat tone that she intended as a warning to Tina to drop the subject.

  ‘But he’s a –’

  ‘Exceptionally nice chap,’ Andrew broke in speedily, as Wyn and Diana walked towards them. ‘And a fair and decent boss, from what Diana says.’

  ‘Boss? He’s a … ow!’ she exclaimed as Laura kicked her ankle. ‘What did you do that for?’

  ‘Testing to see if movement can make junior here budge. I’m fed up of carrying her around, it’s time someone else had a turn.’

  ‘You’re that sure it’s a her?’ Andrew said.

  ‘She wouldn’t dare be anything else. I need reinforcements to keep Trevor in check. Tell you what, Tina, put on “Begin the Beguine” and I’ll get lazybones here,’ she rose majestically to her feet and took the tray from Trevor’s hands, ‘to take a turn around the floor.’

  ‘I’ll start the car engine and keep it running,’ Andrew joked.

  ‘Laura in labour?’ Diana asked as she joined Bethan.

  ‘Not yet, but she’s hoping.’

  ‘Would anyone like some buffet?’ Wyn was anxious to be of service. He felt uneasy surrounded by people he sensed would never willingly have chosen his company.

  ‘I’d love a sandwich,’ Bethan said as she took Rachel from Andrew, ‘if you really don’t mind getting them?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Make it a plateful, please,’ Andrew called after him
.

  Diana stood against the wall and watched the dance floor. Half the girls on the Graig seemed to be there and Tony was in the middle of an adoring group of them. Reason told her she should be pleased that he had recovered so well from his disastrous experience with her. She loved him, she wanted him to be happy, but all the well intentioned good wishes in the world couldn’t put her in a reasonable frame of mind. It was unbelievably painful to stand back and watch him flirt and laugh, especially with Judy Crofter, whom he had always dismissed as an empty-headed ninny. But Diana didn’t doubt that she was a virginal empty-headed ninny and that was the one thing she had learned really mattered to men, and the one thing she no longer had to give.

  A sharp tap on her shoulder startled her. She turned to find herself staring at Angelo.

  ‘Dance?’

  She looked around for Wyn. He was deep in conversation with her mother and uncle Huw at the buffet table. ‘Do you know enough not to tread on my toes?’ she demanded, suspecting an ulterior motive behind the invitation.

  ‘Tina’s been giving me lessons.’

  ‘Lessons don’t necessarily mean that you’ve learned anything.’

  ‘You and Tony quarrelled?’ he asked bluntly as he led her on to the dance floor.

  ‘That’s between Tony and me.’

  ‘He’s really miserable and we’re leaving first thing tomorrow.’

  ‘He doesn’t look miserable.’ She couldn’t stop watching Tony. He’d left the dance floor as soon as she and Angelo had stepped on to it and was now standing at the counter, Judy still fawning all over him, although he was now talking to Eddie’s wife Jenny who’d turned up unexpectedly with a large and, she suspected, expensive parcel for William and Tina.

  ‘That’s an act, Diana. You know he likes you.’

  ‘He told you that?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ he hedged.

  ‘He’d be furious if he knew that you were talking to me.’

  ‘Probably,’ Angelo admitted. ‘But he’s my brother, and you two have been happy all summer. I hate to see you fall out now, when we’re going away and anything could happen. We might not come back …’ his voice faltered as he realised he’d finally put his greatest fear into words.