Pontypridd 05 - Such Sweet Sorrow

by Catrin Collier

  ‘Do you really need me, Wyn, or are you just being kind?’ It was a last appeal and it fell on deaf ears. He turned away. She gathered her handbag and coat from the chair and rose to her feet knowing from past experience that it was useless to attempt to remonstrate with him when he was like this. ‘I’ll visit you at home tomorrow after work.’

  ‘To give me another dose of pity? No thanks.’

  ‘You’ve always been there when I’ve needed someone. I’d like to return the favour. Not out of pity, but out of friendship.’

  He flung the most vicious thing he could think of at her. The one thing he knew would hurt. ‘And guilt?’

  She steadied herself against the doorpost, clinging to it as grey tides of giddiness washed over her. ‘And guilt,’ she echoed faintly. ‘I’m sorry, I should have seen that van …’ her voice faded, sounding distant even to herself. The last thing she heard before slumping downwards was Wyn’s voice crying out for help.

  ‘What’s the matter with Tina tonight?’ Luke asked Gina after her sister had shouted at the hapless cook for the tenth time in as many minutes.

  ‘She finally had a letter from Will this morning. Apparently they’re in transit.’

  ‘To France?’

  ‘We think so, but Will obviously wasn’t allowed to say. All he did say was that he, Tony and Angelo are well, and there’s no chance of leave in the foreseeable future.’

  ‘Odd that he hasn’t written home. Evan was only saying this afternoon that they haven’t heard from the boys all week.’

  ‘This letter took four days to reach Tina. The boys probably wrote to everyone, but their letters could be stuck in the post somewhere.’

  ‘Then it looks as though all the available men have been sent to France.’

  ‘You collecting information for Hitler?’ Tina asked Alexander as she carried tea to him and Luke from the counter.

  ‘No, just someone who follows the news.’

  Tina superstitiously touched William’s letter in her pocket. A bland censored letter, as different from the loving tome he had sent with Eddie as cold, cheerless slag from brightly burning coal, but she didn’t mind. Not now she had her memories to draw on. Memories that had been worth every minute of her father’s rantings. She glanced around the café. Since the fracas with Dai Station, trade had fallen dramatically. Most of the business regulars like the tram crews still called in, but the station staff had taken their custom elsewhere, and there were no girls or women in the place. Word travelled fast. She had asked Huw Davies to play down the incident to her father and mother, but she hadn’t been able to silence the gossips, or the Pontypridd Observer, and she was dreading the court case report appearing in its war-thinned pages. Enough families were paranoid about allowing young girls out in the blackout as it was, let alone to visit a café that had a reputation for trouble.

  Gina and Luke had left Alexander’s table and were whispering to one another at the counter. The rapt, loving expressions on their faces irritated Tina beyond measure, and there was something else, something Tina recognised as jealousy and bitterness. Not envy over Luke, his smooth, round, baby face reminded her too much of her younger brothers for that; but a resentment that came from Luke’s presence and William’s absence, which today’s letter had warned was likely to be months, possibly even years, and after that stolen half-hour the thought was an unbearable one.

  ‘Why don’t you walk Gina home, Luke?’

  Astounded, Gina stared at her sister. ‘It’s only eight o’clock.’

  ‘And it’s quiet. Go on, neither of you are serving any useful purpose by cluttering up this place.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Gina asked warily, expecting Tina to come out with some caustic comment.

  ‘Perfectly,’ Tina answered coldly.

  ‘If there’s a sudden rush I’ll help your sister,’ Alexander offered.

  ‘She means it. She really means it!’ Gina sang out to Luke as she rushed into the back and grabbed her cardigan.

  ‘Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t,’ Tina cautioned, as Gina ran past her on the way out.

  ‘That’s easy. You’d do no end of things if William was here.’

  ‘I’m trusting you to get her home in one piece and a lot earlier than she would have if she were working here,’ Tina called out to Luke as he opened the door.

  ‘That was nice of you.’ Alexander followed Tina to the counter after Luke and Gina had left.

  ‘Nice had nothing to do with it. I couldn’t stand their stupid mooning grins a minute longer. They always look as though they’re auditioning for a cocoa advert.’

  ‘I’m not sure I believe you. Could it be that you’re thinking if you’re kind to those two, the fates might be kind to you and send this William of yours home sooner?’

  ‘You’re a romantic.’

  ‘Anything wrong with that?’

  ‘Everything, if the person you want isn’t around,’ Tina said abruptly.

  ‘Ouch. I know when I’m not wanted.’

  ‘You’ll do to talk to until something better comes along. More tea?’

  ‘I wish I had an invitation to a formal ball or concert in my pocket and a scintillatingly beautiful, witty female hanging on my arm –’ he pushed his cup towards her ‘ but as I don’t, I suppose I’ll have to settle for your cold comfort and tea.’

  Wyn waited for half an hour for a nurse to appear from the room they’d carried Diana into. Dr John came and went, and although Wyn called out to him, it was as much as the doctor could do to acknowledge him curtly before going on his way. The sister walked down the corridor and went into the room, staying for only a few minutes before emerging with a nurse and returning to the main ward.

  Unable to bear the suspense any longer, Wyn swung himself up on to his crutches for the first time without help; balancing precariously he stumbled down the corridor towards the sister’s office. The door was open and she was sitting at her desk, a cup of tea at her elbow and an enormous pile of forms in front of her.

  ‘How is Miss Powell, sister?’ he asked apprehensively.

  She looked up and stared coolly at him as he propped himself against the doorway. ‘You’re doing well, Mr Rees. Won’t be long before you’re racing around, at this rate of recovery.’

  ‘Miss Powell?’ he repeated.

  ‘She’ll be fine.’ She looked away from him and continued to write on the document in front of her.

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’ he pressed, irritated by her offhand manner.

  ‘Not a great deal that time won’t cure, but then, Mr Rees, I should imagine you’re in a better position to know that than anyone else.’

  A door opened behind him and he turned to see Dr John walking back into the ward. Manoeuvring quickly, he blocked the doctor’s path.

  ‘Can I see Diana, please, Dr John?’

  ‘Five minutes, then I’m taking her home,’ the old man barked, gruffly. He hated situations like this, finding them embarrassing for everyone concerned.

  Wyn swung his crutches around and limped back down the corridor. The worst was opening the cubicle door: turning the knob wasn’t a problem, stepping back far enough for the door not to hit him was. Eventually he entered to see Diana propped up on a couch, a cup of tea in her hand and a blanket covering her legs.

  ‘You all right?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You don’t look it. You’re as white as a sheet.’ He limped over and propped himself against the side of the couch.

  ‘All that talk earlier about whether you want me to stay or not was pointless. Very soon I won’t be able to work for anyone.’ She gazed at him with wretched eyes. He was the one person who knew all her secrets, and she saw no point in keeping this one from him. ‘I’m going to have a baby.’

  ‘Tony’s?’

  She nodded dumbly, sending tears splashing down on to the blanket.

  ‘I wasn’t much to start with, I’m even less now, but if you’re prepared to take on a crippled queer a
s a husband, the offer of marriage still stands.’

  ‘Didn’t you hear what I just said? I’m carrying Tony’s baby.’

  ‘I prefer to think of it as your baby, and if you marry me, it would be ours.’

  ‘You’d take on another man’s child?’

  ‘I love kids. That’s why I like working in the sweet shop. They’re mercenary little sods, but unlike adults they’re open and honest about what they want.’

  ‘But if I married you, it would be for all the wrong reasons.’

  ‘So, I’m asking you for all the wrong reasons. A cripple needs a wife to take care of him, and marrying you would make my father happy and guarantee me a half-share in his estate. What do you say, Diana? This could be a classic marriage of convenience, but I’ll lay a pound to a penny neither of us will ever regret it.’ Putting all his weight on one crutch he offered her his hand. ‘Partners?’

  ‘And when the baby’s born?’

  ‘It would be ours, yours and mine. I rather like the idea of being a father.’

  ‘You promise to treat it as your own?’

  ‘If you promise never to tell anyone it isn’t mine. Especially Tony.’

  ‘And if he guesses?’

  ‘Tell him he guessed wrong.’

  She looked him in the eye. ‘Partners,’ she echoed, taking his hand into hers.

  ‘I can’t believe Tina let me leave the café this early.’

  ‘I think your sister is really nice.’

  ‘Which only goes to prove you don’t know her. Where do you want to go?’

  ‘A walk. I love the spring, and it seems to have finally arrived.’

  ‘It’s too cold for walking, and it’s getting dark.’

  ‘You’re too used to working in warm cafés. A bit of fresh air will do you good. Put roses in your cheeks.’

  ‘There’s enough roses there already.’

  ‘I could take you to another café.’

  ‘And give money to the opposition? No fear.’

  ‘There’s nothing else open on a Sunday except the churches.’

  ‘I could make you supper in the High Street café,’ Gina suggested as they crossed the Tumble.

  ‘What about your father?’

  ‘I keep telling you he won’t find out. Besides, he’s too furious with Tina for chasing after William to worry about anything I’m doing. Come on, I have the keys.’

  ‘Does Tina know you have them?’

  ‘Of course. Otherwise how could I open up the Tumble in the morning?’

  ‘Then she’ll guess where we’ve gone.’

  ‘What if she does? I’ve no intention of doing anything wrong. Have you?’

  He turned the colour of beetroot as she opened the door of the café and went inside. He followed her and she closed the door and pulled the blackout. Walking into the kitchen she switched on the light.

  ‘Instead of supper you could kiss me again like you did on the mountain,’ she prompted boldly.

  Heart pounding like a piston in a steam engine, Luke leaned forward and touched his lips to hers.

  ‘Now we’re alone, I think we can do a little better than that.’ Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him close to her and kissed him soundly, if a little clumsily, on the lips.

  He drew back reeling from a heady combination of Evening in Paris that Gina had filched from Tina’s handbag, and the warm sensation of her body pressed against his.

  ‘Toast?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, please.’ Taking off his suit jacket he hung it on the back of one of the chairs. Under the pretext of adjusting his tie he surreptitiously loosened his collar. Embarrassment had sent his temperature soaring.

  Gina lit the gas. ‘I could make beans on toast?’

  ‘Between what I get at the Powells, the tea in the café, and what you make me, I’m putting on weight.’

  ‘You can afford to. Are they all as skinny as you at home?’

  ‘It’s working in the fields that does it,’ he said solemnly.

  ‘You don’t like me teasing you, do you?’ She waited until he sat on a stool before walking towards him. Linking her hands behind his neck she kissed him again. He pushed her gently away, holding her at arm’s length.

  ‘Kissing isn’t a dangerous occupation,’ she said pertly as his colour continued to heighten beneath her steady gaze. ‘My sister does it all the time when William’s around.’

  ‘They’re engaged.’

  ‘They did it before they got engaged as well.’

  ‘But we shouldn’t be behaving like this, not when we’re alone without anyone knowing where we are. I feel guilty every time we come here.’

  ‘I don’t see why. It’s not a sin to want to be alone together once in a while.’

  ‘Your father wouldn’t like it.’

  ‘What the eye doesn’t see, the mind won’t grieve.’

  Wrapping her arms around his neck she pressed her nose against his and looked into his eyes. ‘Tell you what, you give me one proper kiss, and in return I’ll make us a meal, then we’ll go.’

  This time as his lips touched hers, all his qualms about being alone with her and about the surroundings receded from his mind. He reached up, burying his fingers in her hair, fusing the length of her body to his.

  ‘I said just one kiss.’ Suddenly afraid of his mounting passion and the situation her innocent flirting had landed them in, she retreated behind the counter.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he faltered. ‘I don’t know what came over me …’

  ‘It will be a long time before I ask you to kiss me again.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to get carried away.’

  ‘I know,’ she relented. She chose a saucepan and put it down again.

  ‘Perhaps I should take you straight home?’

  ‘That might be a good idea.’ She picked up her coat.

  ‘This won’t make a difference, will it? To us, I mean?’

  ‘That depends on how you behave in future.’

  ‘I promise –’

  ‘No …’ she interrupted as they walked out through the door. ‘No promises.’ She reached for his hand. ‘You’ll only break them when we get married.’

  ‘I heard a car.’

  ‘Dr John brought me home.’ Diana pulled off her tarn and dropped her handbag into a corner. She was glad to find her mother alone. She checked the time. Evan and Phyllis would soon be back from Alma’s. Steeling herself for an outburst she said as casually as she could, ‘Wyn Rees has asked me to marry him.’

  Her mother dropped her knitting on to her lap. ‘And what did you tell him?’

  ‘I said I would.’

  ‘Diana …’

  ‘I know all about his reputation, if that’s what you’re going to tell me.’

  ‘Do you think you could be happy with him?’

  ‘Happier than I could be with anyone else. We’re good friends.’

  ‘There’s a lot more to marriage than friendship.’

  ‘I know and so does Wyn. There’s already a baby on the way.’

  ‘And Wyn’s the father?’

  ‘He’s promised to take care of both of us,’ Diana answered, neatly evading the question.

  ‘Don’t marry him just to give the baby a name, Diana. You know I would never let you go to the unmarrieds’ ward in the workhouse. Neither would your Uncle Evan if it came to that …’

  ‘It doesn’t need to come to anything, Mam. As soon as it can be arranged, I’m marrying Wyn.’

  ‘It’s what you want?’ The words were commonplace, but there was a wealth of pleading in Megan’s eyes that Diana found hard to ignore.

  ‘There’s no one else I’ll marry.’

  ‘In that case there’s nothing for me to do except wish you and Wyn well.’ Megan would have liked to ask a lot more questions, but the years she’d spent in prison had estranged her from her daughter, damaging their once close, loving relationship. She longed to rebuild it, but she knew enough to tread carefully. If things were going to ret
urn to what they had been, it would take time, but for now Diana had retreated not only from her, but from everyone in the family. If Wyn had broken through Diana’s reserve enough to want to marry her, and she him, who was she to stop them?

  ‘He’s coming out of hospital tomorrow. I’m going to his house after work so we can tell his father and sister.’

  ‘About the wedding or the baby?’

  ‘Both,’ Diana replied shortly. ‘I can’t stand the thought of anyone gossiping behind my back. I’d rather it was out in the open so the scandalmongers have nothing to talk about.’

  Megan left her chair, and hugged her.

  ‘Tell Uncle Evan, Phyllis and Beth for me?’ Diana avoided looking into her mother’s eyes.

  ‘Wouldn’t you rather tell them yourself?’

  ‘I won’t have time. I want to go to bed now, and I’ll be in Wyn’s tomorrow night. If Wyn can get a special licence we hope to be married next weekend.’

  ‘In the Registry Office?’

  ‘It seems more appropriate than a church under the circumstances.’ Diana went to the door.

  ‘Just tell me one thing?’

  ‘Yes, Mam.’ Diana looked back.

  ‘If I’d been here, if I hadn’t gone to prison and been able to keep our home going, would it have been any different for you?’

  Diana thought back to Ben Springer, remembered the cold welcome Evan’s wife Elizabeth had given her when she’d returned from Cardiff Infirmary, the lack of money that had driven her to take the job with Ben.

  ‘No, Mam,’ she lied stoutly. ‘No it wouldn’t.’

  ‘Time I was going.’

  ‘You’re a real nag.’ Gina looked up at the stars shining down on Danycoedcae Road.

  ‘Tina will have closed the café by now and I think you should be in bed before she gets home.’

  ‘Yes, Papa.’ She pecked Luke’s cheek before crossing the road to the white cross that gleamed on her garden wall.

  ‘I wish I could take you home with me to introduce you to my family,’ he said, as he walked with her.

  ‘Do you think they’ll like me?’

  ‘My mother, brothers and sisters will. I’m not too sure about my father. Not that he wouldn’t like you as a person, but he’s a very strict Quaker.’

  ‘And like Papa with me, he’ll expect you to marry into his own faith. Well that’s going to make for one very disappointed Catholic and one very disappointed Quaker. What say you we get married in the Salvation Army Citadel?’