‘Yes, lucky I am.’ Amy bustled around, hoping to avoid a long conversation. Milly had too little to do, living with her daughter above the fish and chip shop. She did nothing all day except wander around with Sybil Tremain in tow, but she always had plenty to say, none of it riveting and Amy was always abrupt with her.
Amy stood and watched for her daughter as the bus passed and was relieved to see her red hair and gave a wave. Leaving Margaret early in the morning would not do, the girl would have to come to the shop and leave for school from there, Amy decided. The holidays were going to be difficult without Freddy to help.
She missed Freddy, but he had gone and she couldn’t change that. She had leaned on him long enough, she knew that. He had to go. She shuddered at the thought that one day Margaret too would leave her. Loneliness overwhelmed her suddenly and she didn’t see Phil Davies wave as he passed on the way to his mother’s and a second breakfast.
The days passed and Amy settled into a routine. It was when she was carrying some vegetables outside one morning to put a display that a pair of hands lifted the heavy basket full of onions from her. She looked up to see Billie Brown’s tawny eyes smiling at her.
‘Let me take that, girl, you shouldn’t be lifting heavy things when there’s a man around to help.’
‘Makes a change, a fellow being around when he’s needed,’ Amy retorted. ‘What are you doing so far from the farm this time of the morning?’
‘Your Margaret left her gloves and hat when she came over with young Oliver last Sunday. Couldn’t get here before, not sure where this new house of yours is, so I waited to catch you in the shop. Sure to find you here, I thought.’
‘Where else?’ She straightened the sacks and boxes until she was satisfied they could not be any neater. ‘They weren’t a nuisance, were they? I didn’t know they were going to call on you.’
‘Nuisance? Damn me, no! Lovely to see a couple of youngsters about the place, tell them to call any time. Bring their mother too,’ he added, touching her shoulder with his large hand. ‘It’s a long time since you came to see us.’
‘There’s never any time. Working from eight-thirty until five-thirty and then having to do the books as well as housework and cooking. Not that I’m grumbling, mind. I’m very happy with my life.’
‘But lonely?’
‘No I’m not! Everyone thinks because I haven’t got a man to slave over I must be lonely,’ she snapped.
‘I only meant with Freddy going away…’
‘I’m sorry, Billie. I get that remark so often that I jump before I hear the end. Yes, I miss Freddy, but he has to make his own life. I dread the day when Margaret leaves, she’s only eight yet, but the time passes so quickly. It’s something everyone has to face, though you won’t! I doubt your sister will marry now and leave you.’
The side door opened and Sheila came out. She wore more than her usual amount of makeup but it failed to hide the paleness about her eyes, and the unhappy set of her mouth.
‘Everything all right, Sheila?’ Amy asked, hoping the girl wouldn’t start to tell her her problems. She didn’t like Sheila and was not in the mood for other people’s worries.
‘I don’t feel too well, Mrs Prichard, but don’t bother about me, I’ll be all right.’ She reached into her handbag and brought out a letter. ‘Would you post this to Freddy for me, please? I’ve heard from him but lost his address.’
‘I’ll see to it lunchtime.’
Sheila said goodbye, smiling enticingly at Billie, but the gestures and the smile were automatic and she forgot him a moment later as she boarded the bus to take her to work. ‘Trouble, that one,’ Billie said.
‘You’re right. I’m tempted to burn this.’ She held up the letter. ‘But, as I said before, like it or not, it’s his life.’
* * *
Sheila’s love for Maurice was as ardent as ever, but she sensed a cooling off in him. When they parted, she almost had to push him into agreeing to meet her again. Since she had moved into the flat, she had continued to sneak out after her parents were sleeping, but twice she had been unable to see him. She waited far into the night before walking home, her need for him a stressful ache.
Tonight she stood at the window and watched Ethel make herself a cup of cocoa, wind the clock and damp down the fire before going to bed. Sheila pressed her face against the cold pane to read the time on the clock. Almost one. The cold ate into her bones. She would give it another fifteen minutes, then go. It was already difficult to get up in the mornings, but without his loving she found it hard to sleep anyway.
How could she win Maurice over again? She wanted to be married so much, to be her own boss and not have her mother dogging her footsteps wherever she went. Not to have to get the bus into town every day and sell boring people boring dresses. Oh Maurice, she sighed silently, don’t let me down.
Inside, Ethel pulled on the chain and lowered the height of the flame around the gas mantle. The room sank into darkness, and not even the fire could be seen. Sheila felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks. She had been so sure Maurice loved her. What had gone wrong?
He came at last, carrying his bicycle on his shoulder as he walked up the muddy track. She hurried towards him, longing for his warmth.
‘Maurice, I’m so cold. Where have you been?’
‘You shouldn’t have come, Sheila. You’ll make yourself ill, standing around in this weather.’
‘Let’s go inside.’
‘No.’
She was alarmed by his attitude. He held her, but did not bend his head to kiss her. She stared at the door and moved towards it. ‘I’m frozen. Let’s just go in for a few moments, for me to warm up.’
‘You shouldn’t have come.’
‘I had to. I have to talk to you.’
‘It’s over, Sheila. It’s been fantastic fun, you’re a great girl, but it’s finished. Sorry.’
She drooped against him like a cut flower. He had to tighten his arms around her to prevent her falling. She pressed against him but he eased her away.
‘I’ve tried to hint – but there’s no easy way to say it.’
His thoughts were still with Delina Honeyman, who he had just left. They had been to a carol concert and his mind was bursting with the joyous music and the thrill of sharing it with Delina. He found it hard to listen to Sheila’s pleadings; she was already an embarrassment to him. But the effect of meeting the charming, beautiful and gentle Delina was so devastating that he was kinder to Sheila than he would otherwise have been. Delina had released in him a new compassion and he was kinder to Sheila because of it.
‘Look, I know it’s hard on you now, but I’m not the sort for a long-term affair, not yet. Got no prospects, and no desire to settle down. Not for a while. After being away for five years I need time to find my feet, sort myself out, decide what I want to do with the rest of my life.
‘I haven’t got a job yet. Demob money’s all but gone. Got to get myself sorted, see. You’re best looking for someone more settled. There’s a bloke somewhere just longing to find a lovely, passionate girl like you. You’ve got a lot to offer a man, you have, and no mistake.’
It was a long speech for him, and although it was full of clichés, it was as sincere as he could make it.
‘Love me once more, Maurice, please.’ Sheila pressed her eager body against his and reached for his lips. He turned away and gently pushed her from him.
‘Best not. End it clean, shall we? I’ll walk you back home. Right?’
‘All right, but let’s go up the lane and around, the long way?’
Why not, Maurice thought. It would definitely be the last time.
* * *
Phil stared at the letter. It was not for Netta Cartwright, but for Johnny. He didn’t get many letters, and this one was from the council. He wasn’t putting up for the council as well as Timothy Chartridge, surely? He wondered who would stand the better chance: enthusiastic Johnny, or the staid Tim. His eyes brightened at the thought of us
ing his mother’s large black kettle to steam the envelope open. Not that he ever had, but it was something he often dreamed of doing. ‘Damn,’ he muttered quietly, ‘do anything like that and Mam would clout my ear, old as I am!’ He went into his mother’s kitchen and called, ‘Mam, there’s a letter for Johnny Cartwright this morning, from the council.’
‘Be about the house, I expect, but don’t say anything yet.’
‘What house?’
‘Well, I don’t know for certain, but rumour has it that Fay’s applied for the empty house up on St David’s Close.’
Phil sat down and gasped. He had been keeping the news of Fay’s interest in the house to himself.
‘Mam, I’m the postman. I’m the one who’s supposed to gather all the news. You hardly ever go out. How do you do it?’
‘Sausage with your egg?’
Maurice came sleepily downstairs and held his hand out for a cup of tea.
‘Make any more noise and the room’ll fall in,’ he grumbled to Phil. ‘There’s loud you talk.’
‘Should have been up hours ago, lazy sod,’ Phil retorted. ‘When are you going to get some work?’
‘Got any ideas?’
‘Not unless you want to try Leighton’s farm with our Sidney. He’s short of a man and might take you on.’
‘I’ve already tried him and there’s nothing except occasional jobs, like filling in that stinking pond.’
‘What about Mary and Billie Brown then? Do they need anyone?’
‘No,’ Ethel said, taking a couple of sausages from the pan over the fire. ‘Not much future in farming unless you work for yourself. Ask Sidney, he wishes he’d learnt a trade like our Teddy.’
‘Talking about a trade, what about the building trade? Prue Beynon wanted Freddy to join the firm but he chose the army instead,’ Phil said. ‘Perhaps she’ll have a vacancy. Especially with the baby and all.’ He glared at his mother. ‘Kept that to yourself for long enough, didn’t you?’
‘I’ll go and see Prue Beynon later,’ Maurice said.
‘Suddenly very keen to get work, aren’t you? You must be broke.’ Ethel handed him a second cup of tea.
‘Or wanting to settle down with some nice girl?’ Phil teased. ‘From what I hear you’ve been out with every eligible female from here to Cardiff.’ He was surprised when Maurice did not retaliate. Perhaps there was a girl.
Mary Dairy and her brother arrived with the milk. They were sipping their tea and trying some of Ethel’s biscuits when Bert Roberts knocked at the door. As usual, he was outraged about something.
‘Call this a village,’ he shouted as soon as he opened the door. ‘No pub, only a tiddly little village hall, nowhere to meet, it’s ridiculous.’ He took a cup and saucer from the shelf and helped himself from the teapot.
‘Tea’s a bit strong,’ he complained and Ethel nodded towards the kettle. He added some water, pulled a disapproving face and continued his tirade. ‘We’re having to cancel the gardening club meeting. The hall is needed for an election. Call it a church hall? It’s no wonder it doesn’t collapse from shame, having to listen to all those lies. Elections! Rubbish!’
‘Who hit you?’ Billie asked, laughing at the outraged face.
‘Well it isn’t right. The sooner we get a local man on the council the better. If that pompous ass Timothy Chartridge gets elected I’ll be after him to get a few things done.’ He didn’t wait for anyone to comment but hurried on. ‘See the new people are in Amy’s flat. A couple from the council houses. That daughter of theirs is a bit of a tart by the look of her.’
Phil looked at his brother for a reaction. ‘I’ve seen you with her, haven’t I Maurice?’
‘No, not me. Not my type at all.’
‘Best for you too. Dangerous, women like that.’
‘I have met a girl though,’ Maurice said. ‘I don’t know if you’ve met her. She’s a teacher and lives up in St David’s Close. Victor Honeyman’s daughter.’
Phil closed his eyes, rubbed his nose and looked thoughtful.
‘Yes, I know the girl. Didn’t Vic get the sack after letting Harry Beynon have goods he hadn’t paid for or something?’ He thought again. ‘Yes, Delina she’s called. Beautiful too. Works in Llan Gwyn Junior School.’
‘That’s the one, she’s a lovely girl. I’ll be seeing her tonight.’
Phil looked at his younger brother then at his mother and mouthed the words, ‘he’s smitten,’ nodding wisely.
* * *
Prue had a letter that morning in answer to her complaint about Phil Davies’s late deliveries. She had written to the Post Office stating that her business was suffering because he deliberately left her until last and stopped on his rounds for several cups of tea and gossip-gathering.
When the doorbell rang she was alarmed to see Phil’s brother on the doorstep, but he was smiling.
‘I’m busy,’ she said by way of greeting. ‘Was it something important?’
‘Well, yes. I was wondering if you’re thinking of taking on any extra staff? I know you asked Freddy and he chose the army and I thought that if you still needed someone, like…’ The words went on and on and he wished he had rehearsed what he was going to say. He had meant to tell her how useful he would be and how reliable, but ended up sounding like a dog begging for a bone.
‘You’d better come inside.’ She opened the door wide and then went ahead of him to sit behind the kitchen table, to hide her swollen belly. ‘I thought you had come to protest. I’ve written to the Post Office about your brother. His deliveries get later and later. He spends hours chattering instead of getting on with his work.’ She waited for him to protest anger but he did not.
‘Quite right too, Mam’s always going on about it.’
Maurice guessed Prue was testing him and he very much wanted work, but he made a mental note to warn Phil. ‘I think that if you take money for doing a job you should give it all you’ve got.’
‘And working for a woman, does that offend your male ego?’
‘It would just make me more protective for her interests. Men have to look after women, don’t they?’
Prue stared at him and tried to sum him up. Nice looking, although a bit common. Plausible, a bit fond of exaggeration, but a slick tongue was not a disadvantage in business.
‘Write me an application for the job and send any references you have and I’ll let you know in a few days.’ She went to rise but changed her mind, conscious of her rounded body. She stayed behind the shelter of the kitchen table, ‘See yourself out, will you?’
‘Thank you, Mrs Beynon, I promise I’ll do a good job for you if you take me on.’
‘Goodbye, Maurice.’
She sat for a while after he had gone. The fact that he had not protested at her complaint made her warm to him at once. He seemed a likeable young man, confident and chatty. Yes, he might do very well, but first she had to find out more about him. He had been away for five years and in the army too. That must change a boy and make him grow up with standards different from those of his home. She would have to make sure there was no scandal attached to him.
* * *
There was only one Junior School in Llan Gwyn and Maurice went there at three-thirty and sat on his bike, waiting for the children to leave, and then the staff. Delina came out last of all, when he had almost given up hope and ridden home.
He reached the gate at the same time she did, pushing along on one foot, ringing his bell to attract her attention.
‘Hello. So this is where you work is it?’
‘Maurice, what are you doing in town?’ She smiled at him, her delight in seeing him evident.
Sometimes Maurice knew it was best to play games and pretend, but not with Delina. ‘Waiting, hoping to see you,’ he said. ‘I found out where you worked and I came along, hoping I’d chosen the right school!’
‘I’m glad,’ she said with equal honesty.
‘Got time for a coffee?’
‘Yes, but I mustn’t be long, Mam wi
ll wonder where I am.’
‘Right then, The Copper Kettle suit you?’
‘They do lovely home-made doughnuts there. Do you like doughnuts?’
‘My favourites! True!’ They both laughed at the delight of discovering a mutual pleasure and, pushing his bicycle, walked to the cafe together.
‘It was nice at your house the other evening. Your brothers gave us a good game of Monopoly, didn’t they? But,’ he added, ‘I’m looking forward to this, talking to you just the two of us.’
They swapped details about each other’s families, and talked silly talk about favourite things, but true to his word, Maurice did not try to persuade her to stay longer than half an hour. As he walked her to the bus stop he glowed with the happiness that even a simple cup of coffee and a doughnut could create in the right company. She told him she loved walking and cycling and was interested in wildlife. Maurice could think of nothing more enchanting than walking with this lovely creature beside him. When her bus left he raced after it for a while, as excited as a child who has just discovered Christmas.
He thought of the many girls he had met and from whom he had parted with very little disappointment. Delina was so different it was impossible to explain.
‘It’s a desire to care for her,’ he told Ethel later. ‘I want to look after her and protect her. I never thought I could be so unselfish, but I would do whatever was best for her.’
‘I’d better start saving my butter rations for a wedding cake, had I?’ Ethel asked with a smile. ‘Seems you might be in a hurry to get this girl to the altar.’
‘Too early to say, Mam, but I hope so, I really do.’
* * *
Johnny saw the envelope propped up on the table as soon as he arrived home from work that Monday afternoon. He picked it up and looked at the postmark. What did the council want with him? He put it down to wait for Fay to get home. They usually opened any letters that came together.
Valley Affairs Page 13