Tiger Bay Blues

by Catrin Collier

  ‘I think morning service would be best. We could hire a taxi to get there, so we wouldn’t have to get up too early. And, after we’ve visited Mother and Aunt Alice, we’ll have the rest of the day free. If we lunch with them, we could either catch a bus or walk from Sketty to Mumbles, and have tea in one of the cafés on the front.’

  ‘You seem to have it all planned out.’

  ‘Mother appeared quite agitated this afternoon. And I do need to talk to her.’ He looked away from her, unable to meet her steady gaze. ‘Do you want to use the bathroom first?’

  ‘No, you can.’

  ‘I won’t be long.’

  She looked around the room after he left. He had unpacked his suitcase while she’d dressed earlier. It stood on its side in the corner next to the wardrobe. She lifted hers beside it and opened the drawer where she had placed her lingerie. She had chosen a white lace and silk negligée set but it was flimsy, and transparent in the light, so she had brought her satin robe for the hotel corridor. She laid everything out on the bed then sat on it and tested the springs. It was firmer than her bed at home. Was that a good or a bad thing? She bounced up and down and the springs creaked.

  ‘Edyth, what on earth are you doing?’ Peter hissed after he had closed the door behind him.

  ‘Testing the bed.’ Without thinking, she added, ‘It doesn’t half make a racket.’

  ‘So I heard. And I wouldn’t be surprised if it was heard halfway to Swansea. You’re not bouncing around with your sisters now. Didn’t you think what it would sound like out in the corridor? The clerk and porter were sniggering down in reception.’

  ‘Sorry.’ She jumped up in embarrassment.

  ‘The water’s hot if you want a bath.’ He set his toilet bag on the washstand.

  ‘I think I will.’ She couldn’t stop looking at him. His dressing gown was dark-red lightweight wool, which suited his colouring, and his pyjamas were blue-and-white striped cotton. He smelled of the same shaving soap and cologne that her father and Harry used. But he wasn’t her father or Harry, and there was a sudden rush of electrifying intimacy. She was finally alone in a bedroom with the man she loved, and he was dressed ready for bed.

  He went to the window and pulled the curtains across it.

  ‘Don’t close out the moon and the sea,’ she pleaded.

  ‘But people on the road or the beach can see in.’

  ‘Not if we switch off the light.’

  ‘I’d like to read.’ He picked up his book.

  ‘How about a compromise?’ she suggested. ‘You can close them now, but I’ll open them and switch off the lights when I come back. I’d like to go to sleep looking at the moon and the sea.’

  ‘Is that what married life with you is going to be like?’ he asked. ‘A compromise?’

  ‘Until we rub the rough edges off one another.’ She moved close to him and planted a kiss on his lips. He stepped back. ‘Is something the matter?’ She smarted at his rejection.

  ‘Just this place. When you go to the bathroom you’ll see what I mean, Edyth. You can hear every sound in the building. People talking in the room next door, walking up and down the corridors. I even heard someone coughing in the bar downstairs. The bed squeaking was the absolute limit.’

  ‘I didn’t think the walls were that thin.’

  ‘Perhaps I’m being over-sensitive, but I think it’s best we leave the start of our married life until we get home.’ Shocked, Edyth stared at him.

  ‘You do understand what I’m saying?’

  ‘A honeymoon without a honeymoon,’ she said unthinkingly.

  ‘You don’t mind, do you? You are very young. Something like that can be painful – a shock to the system. Especially in strange surroundings.’

  ‘Not according to my mother or Bella.’

  ‘You discuss the intimate personal details of your life with them?’ Now it was his turn to be shocked.

  ‘Not personal to me, no,’ she qualified, ‘but the facts of life, sex, and married life in general, yes.’

  ‘I’ll read until you get back.’

  He’d closed the subject and she was unable to think of a single thing to say to re-open it, so she left for the bathroom and lingered there even after her bath.

  She rubbed Nivea cream into her hands and feet to soften them; sprinkled essence of violets on her neck and behind her ears because Peter had told her it was his favourite perfume. She removed every trace of make-up with more than her usual care, put just the slightest dab of powder on her nose to stop the shine, brushed out her curls and studied herself in the mirror. She thought she looked reasonably attractive. Not stunning, but attractive. But what was the point when Peter didn’t want to make love to her?

  Was it her? Was she off-putting or ugly in some way that she hadn’t noticed? Did she have halitosis? After she cleaned her teeth she put her hand in front of her face and breathed upwards, but all she could smell was mint-scented tooth powder.

  Finally, having no more cause for delay, she gathered her towel, toilet bag and clothes together and returned to the bedroom.

  ‘I’ve set the alarm for half past seven,’ Peter said without looking up from his book. ‘Will that give you enough time to dress and get ready to go down for breakfast?’

  ‘Yes.’ She went to the window. ‘Can I switch out the light and open the curtains?’

  ‘Switch out the light first but give me time to put my book away.’ He folded his bookmarker into the page, closed the book and set it on the chest of drawers next to the bed.

  She waited until he lay back on the pillows before pulling the switch and drawing the curtains. Moonlight streamed in through the window on to the bed, bathing the room in a cold grey light that painted the bed linen silver.

  Heart pounding, Edyth slipped off her robe and went to the bed. Peter’s eyes were shadowy enigmatic pools in the gloom.

  ‘That is a very pretty negligee. It could be a fairy costume from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’

  ‘I hoped you’d like it but I don’t think I’m anyone’s idea of a fairy. I’m far too clumsy.’ She turned back the sheet. ‘Peter,’ she summoned her courage, ‘are you quite sure that you wouldn’t like me to undress completely?’

  ‘No, Edyth. Aside from the feeling that the entire hotel is listening at the door, we’ve had a long day. Let’s sleep. We have the rest of our lives to get to know one another.’

  She slipped off her negligée and hung it and her robe on the back of the door. Sitting on the bed, she swung her legs up and pulled the sheet and blankets over herself. Peter rolled over and turned his back to her. She reached out to him but he moved away, evading her touch and effectively ending her hope that he would go to sleep holding her.

  She lay rigid, fighting frustration and disillusionment, until she heard his breathing steady into a soft even flow. Only when she knew he slept did she close her eyes.

  David climbed the steps of Pontypridd’s most famous landmark, the old bridge, and stared down at the dark and swirling waters of the River Taff far below. The air was cold and damp, the surface of the water gleamed, black like wet coal, and still he could see Edyth and Peter. They were drawing slowly, inexorably closer to one another in that Hollywood-style boudoir – their lips met, Peter closed his hand on Edyth’s bare shoulder, she locked her arms around Peter’s neck …

  Closing his eyes against the image didn’t help, he could still see them. He lifted first one foot then the other on to the parapet, straightened up, leaned forward and jumped. And then, finally, he saw them no more.

  The alarm trilled into life at seven-thirty. Edyth looked around the room in bewilderment for the few seconds it took her to realise where she was. She sat up, ran her fingers through her hair to brush it back from her face and saw Peter sitting, dressed and shaved, in the chair in front of the window.

  He turned to her and smiled. ‘Good morning, Mrs Slater.’

  ‘Good morning,’ she answered shyly. ‘You are up early.’

  ‘
I’m usually an early riser, especially when I sleep as well as I did last night. The combination of exhaustion, champagne and travelling proved an excellent sleeping pill. But I woke just as dawn broke over the sea. It’s so long since I’ve seen it, I’d forgotten what a wonderful sight it is. How did you sleep?’

  ‘Fine, when I managed to stop thinking. Peter, what you said last night, about us waiting. I –’

  ‘It will be different when we are in the privacy of our own home, Edyth. Now, if we are going to be in good time for breakfast you’d better dress.’ He set his book aside. ‘I’ll go downstairs and order us a taxi to take us to the church. It will be an extravagance, but then a honeymoon is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.’

  ‘Can we afford it?’

  ‘On special occasions, but we won’t be able to make a habit of it.’ He left his chair and kissed her cheek. ‘If my aunt’s chauffeur can’t bring us back here, we’ll walk to Mumbles from Sketty through the park. We certainly have a fine day for it. The only cloud is over the sea, and we can always order a taxi in Mumbles, or even, if you’re up to it, walk across the headland to here.’

  ‘I’d enjoy a walk if the weather stays fine.’

  He went to the door. ‘Meet me in the dining room?’

  ‘I’ll be half an hour.’

  She looked out of the window after he left the room. The sun was shining but the wind was whipping sand across the beach. She opened the wardrobe and lifted out a dark-green woollen suit before going to the bathroom. She washed, dressed and applied her make-up mechanically. All she could think of was Bella’s confession that she and Toby hadn’t been able to keep their hands off one another – and Peter’s wish to postpone their lovemaking.

  As he refused even to discuss it, all she could do was wait until the end of the week when they would go to the vicarage in Tiger Bay. But that thought didn’t prevent a tight knot of apprehension from forming in her stomach. Peter was charming and polite, solicitous even. But she could hear Harry’s voice ringing in her ears: ‘Some men don’t make good husbands and I have a feeling Peter Slater may be one of them …’

  The front doorbell rang out as Harry was running, light-footed and whistling, down the stairs early the next morning. He turned and shouted up the passage, ‘I’ll get it, Mari.’

  To his surprise, one of his parents’ oldest friends, local constable Huw Davies, was on the doorstep.

  ‘Good morning, Uncle Huw. You’ve come round early for a cup of tea on a Sunday morning. And in full uniform, too. Have they run out at the station?’

  Huw stepped inside and removed his helmet, revealing his thinning ginger hair. I’m sorry, Harry, I’m afraid I’m not here for Mari’s tea. Is your father in?’

  ‘There hasn’t been an accident, has there?’ Harry froze as he thought of Peter and Edyth. ‘My sister –’

  ‘It’s not your sister,’ Huw reassured quickly.

  ‘Huw, I heard your voice. How nice of you to call.’ Lloyd walked down the stairs in shirtsleeves and waistcoat, still fastening cufflinks into his cuffs. ‘Come in.’ He opened the door to the sitting room. ‘Harry, ask Mari if she’ll make us some tea, will you, please?’

  ‘I’ll leave the tea, if you don’t mind, Lloyd.’

  ‘This has to be a first, a policeman refusing tea.’ Lloyd waited for Huw to enter the sitting room and followed him.

  ‘As I was just saying to Harry, this isn’t a social call, Lloyd. I only wish it were. It’s about your brother-in-law, Harry.’

  ‘My brother-in-law,’ Harry repeated in surprise. ‘All three are upstairs sleeping.’

  ‘The younger two may be, but David isn’t. I recognised him from your wedding. I’m sorry I couldn’t make Edyth’s but –’

  ‘Edyth understood, Huw,’ Lloyd interrupted. ‘It’s not always easy to get leave at short notice.’

  ‘I’ll check David’s in bed.’ Harry went to open the door.

  ‘He’s not, Harry,’ Huw said firmly. ‘We had an attempted suicide in the town last night. It was definitely David. He jumped off the old bridge.’

  Harry stared at him in bewilderment. ‘David … Are you sure?’

  ‘I saw him jump and hauled him out of the river. He picked a bad spot. The water’s not deep enough to break a fall at that point. Or drown in,’ he added.

  ‘Is he alive?’ Lloyd dared ask the question Harry couldn’t bring himself even to phrase.

  ‘Just about. He’s under guard in the Graig Hospital. He’s broken bones in both his legs, ankles and pelvis.’ Huw turned his helmet over uneasily in his hands. ‘You know my views on charging unsuccessful suicides, Lloyd. If it had been up to me I would have turned a blind eye. But unfortunately I wasn’t the only one to see him jump. The sergeant was with me and we both watched David climb up on to the parapet, so there’s no question of an accidental fall. When the sergeant told the Superintendent, he insisted that David be formally charged with attempted suicide as soon as he comes round.’

  ‘Has he said anything?’

  ‘He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, Harry.’ Desperately unhappy at having to deliver the news, Huw continued to look down at the helmet in his hands. ‘He’s in a bad way. The doctors are not expecting him to come around for at least twenty-four hours.’

  ‘But he will live?’ Harry had grown to love his brother-in-law in spite of his obstinacy and occasionally wild ways, but he knew that Mary loved him more.

  ‘That, as the doctor told me this morning, is in the lap of the gods.’

  ‘Can we at least see him?’ Lloyd pleaded.

  ‘Strictly speaking, no. But, as I reminded the Super this morning, procedure demands a formal identification by a close relative.’

  Huw didn’t have to say any more. Quicker than Harry, Lloyd opened the door and reached for his and Harry’s hats and coats.

  ‘If he does come round, and can give us a good reason as to why he should have been on that parapet and jumped from the bridge – anything at all that I can use to placate my superiors – I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to get the charges dropped, Lloyd.’

  ‘Thank you, Huw. You’re a good friend.’ Lloyd set his hand on Huw’s shoulder.

  ‘As I said to the sergeant, David’s a farm boy. I thought I saw a shadow leave the water and crawl on to the bank when I went in to get him. If he saw a dog and tried to rescue it …’

  ‘Being a farm boy, David has a harder attitude than most to animals. Especially ones he doesn’t know,’ Harry dismissed.

  ‘Oh no, he doesn’t,’ Lloyd contradicted, instantly understanding what Huw was trying to do.

  ‘But he does –’

  ‘If he was rescuing a dog, Harry, it couldn’t be attempted suicide, could it?’ Huw always spoke slowly and Harry had often wondered if it was a deliberate attempt to make people think he wasn’t very bright. For the first time he realised it was exactly that.

  ‘I’ll go and tell Sali where we’re going. Harry, you’d better tell Mary what’s happened.’ When he saw Harry hesitate, Lloyd said, ‘Better it comes from you than anyone else.’

  ‘Yes, Dad.’ Harry had never been so reluctant to comply with an order from his father. But he went into the hall and walked back up the stairs.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘I told Alice you would be at church this morning,’ Florence Slater said triumphantly, gazing at Peter and Edyth before shaking her table napkin out of the ‘slipper’ the maid had folded it into.

  ‘More fool them.’ Alice straightened her fork. ‘Theo and I found better things to do the morning after we were married than go to church.’

  ‘We had to attend church anyway,’ Peter said quietly, ‘so I thought we may as well sit in your pew, Aunt Alice.’

  ‘Vicar or no vicar, I’m sure God would have forgiven you for missing service this one Sunday.’ Alice rang the bell for the maid to start serving the meal.

  ‘Alice, that is blasphemous,’ Florence reprimanded.

  ‘No, it isn’t,’
Alice contradicted. ‘I’m only applying the philosophy of the good book. God is all-seeing, all-knowing, all-forgiving – or so you keep telling me.’

  ‘Not when it comes to deliberate sins,’ Florence lectured.

  ‘I think we’ve all had enough sermonising for one day, Flo. Much as I like Reverend Hastings, he goes on and on and on. More than half the congregation were sitting with their eyes closed this morning. I’m sure I heard the choirmaster snoring. I was so bored, I caught myself counting the hairs on his head when it fell forward. He has fifty-seven left, and they were so thickly plastered with Macassar Oil it was easy to see every one. Now,’ she turned to Edyth and Peter before Florence could protest any further, ‘are they looking after you at the hotel?’

  ‘Very well,’ Edyth assured her.

  ‘And the food?’

  ‘Dinner last night was wonderful.’ Edyth glanced at Peter but he seemed happy to leave the conversation to her.

  ‘Excuse me, madam, ladies, sir.’ The maid came in with a tray that held four steaming bowls of cauliflower soup.

  ‘Tell me, what did you eat?’ Alice demanded once the soup had been served.

  ‘Oysters followed by roast duck with plum sauce, mashed and roast potatoes, vegetables, cheese soufflé, pears in red wine, cheese, coffee and brandy,’ Peter answered.

  ‘And to drink?’ Alice’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

  ‘You know what we had to drink, Aunt Alice, because I had it on good authority from the wine waiter that you insisted on going down to the cellar to choose the champagne yourself.’

  ‘Champagne?’ Florence said. ‘I know you gave Peter and Edyth the honeymoon at the Caswell Bay Hotel as a wedding present, Alice, but champagne really is an unwarranted extravagance. Just think what they could have done with the money.’

  ‘Phooey,’ Alice dismissed. ‘In my experience, unless people are destitute they always find money for essentials.’

  ‘It was very generous of you, Aunt Alice,’ Edyth said gratefully, hoping she wouldn’t antagonise Peter’s mother further by expressing her gratitude.

  ‘Just make sure they serve you the same vintage every night,’ Alice warned. ‘Don’t you dare put up with anything inferior, no matter what they tell you about short supply. It’s a jolly good drink. I always share a bottle there with a few members of my bridge club after our monthly inter-club tournaments. They have a decent cellar in the Caswell Bay – provided, of course, you know your wine and aren’t prepared to be fobbed off with rubbish. And price is no indication of quality. Remember that, Edyth. Take the trouble to study wines and vintages. It could save you a great deal of money and, more importantly, your palette, in future.’