Copper to Red (The Dillwyns' Stories)

by Bladen, Ceri

  Copper to Red

  (The Dillwyns’ Stories – Book 2)

  By Ceri Bladen

  Copyright © 2012 by Ceri Bladen

  Image Copyright © 2012 Kim Sen

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author: Lynda@Bladen.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. The author acknowledges the trademark status and owners of various items used by the author, which have been used without permission. The publication on/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This ebook is for personal use only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Acknowledgements

  A big and loving thank you to my wonderful family and friends, who have supported and encouraged me. Thank you Daniela, for inspiration with the title.

  A thank you to some of the people on TLF (Turkish Living Forum), who allowed me to ‘pick’ their brains about life and public houses in the 1960s.

  Also thanks to Ozlem and Claire (Altinkum’s self-defence classes for women) who have shown me some ‘moves’ to use on unsavoury people!

  Special thanks to Swansea for having such a rich history that I am able to select from!

  “When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.”

  ― Helen Keller

  Chapter 1

  Tom Dillwyn adjusted his tie. It felt like a noose on the verge of strangling him. He stared straight ahead at the pulpit, vaguely aware of the hushed whispers of family and friends behind and to the side of him.

  Abruptly the organist started playing and he nearly jumped out of his skin. The bridal march reverberated around the small chapel. Much too loud, Tom dimly thought. He stood straighter, trying to get his varied thoughts into order. Just nerves, just nerves, he repeated silently to himself.

  Tom rocked gently, heel to toe, trying to calm his increasing anxieties. He wondered how many other men felt like this on their wedding day. Michael, his brother and best man, placed a hand gently on his arm to soundlessly warn him that the church doors had opened. Tom slowly turned towards them to greet his bride.

  Chapter 2

  Four months earlier…

  “I’ll get these boys. It’s my round. Same again?” Standing, Tom waited for the replies, or grunts of agreement, grabbing the empty glasses in his large hands. The men, his friends, crowded around the table had already lost interest and were back playing dominoes.

  Glad for the break from losing, he casually walked towards the bar in his local pub, the Red Lion. Tom Dillwyn was never in a rush, life was too good to let it pass by quickly. He smiled to himself when he noticed that the sawdust, which was thrown on the floor to catch spillages, had shifted and made a pathway all the way to the bar. It was a path well-trodden tonight! He was having an enjoyable night with his friends; they regularly got together for a pint and a game of darts or dominoes at the local. Even when nobody had arranged to meet, there was always someone sitting at one of the tables to talk to. The Red Lion was like a community centre to many of the locals, with the bonus of serving alcohol!

  Some of Tom’s mates worked with him at the market and others he had known since they were in school together. Living and working in a small community for twenty eight years, it was impossible not to know nearly everyone. To be honest, anyone that wasn’t local, had to work hard to get accepted, but once accepted, you were a ‘friend’ for life.

  Tom, at nearly twenty nine, was content with life. Family, good friends, work that he enjoyed and some spending money, yes, life was good. To top it all, he was meeting Jane a little later on at her father’s butcher shop. His mouth curved when he thought of Jane, a bit of a live-wire and she sure was foxy to go with it. There was certainly never any dull moment when he was around her, which was just what he wanted after just coming out of a two year relationship with Sarah Davies. No, he certainly didn’t want have any strings attached to him for a while and Jane was just the tonic he needed.

  Willow, who was serving behind the bar, watched Tom as he sauntered over towards the bar, hands full of empty beer glasses, and a wicked smile playing on his mouth. She was half-heartedly in a conversation with Dai, an elderly regular who always sat in the public bar, alone. As she pulled Dai’s pint, she pushed down the sensation she always felt when Tom approached the bar. It rolled slowly through her as she silently accepted that most women had the same reaction to him. He was easily six feet tall, broad, with black hair which grazed his collar and a wicked smile, which just made you melt. He was handsome alright, but the cleft in his strong jaw and dark stubble, made him just a little dangerous looking at times, a heady combination. Willow smiled at him, she was amused, not threatened, by her reaction to him. She had just been through a divorce and even though she enjoyed feeling something towards a male again, she certainly had enough of men for a while.

  Tom’s handsome face split into a grin, when he saw Willow acknowledge him with a nod and a friendly smile.

  “Same again, Willow. The boys are thirsty tonight!” He placed the glasses on the mat and leaned against the bar, one elbow resting, while he looked back towards the card game.

  “All you boys busy in the market today?” Willow enquired, nodding towards the group of men that Tom had just left.

  “Ay, the weekends are always busy. It has been chaotic since the new market reopened a couple of years ago. But we are not complaining. Keeps the money rolling in for us to spend here!” Tom laughed, patting his pocket.

  “Yes, my parents are pleased about that.” Willow finished pulling the first pint and placed it on the bar. Tom flashed his breezy smile, which lit up his face, Willow’s heart fluttered slightly; she silently smirked at her reaction.

  “Where are your parents tonight?” After taking a brief look around, Tom picked up the pint and took a slurp. A satisfied grin lifted the corners of his mouth, while a little bit of foam covered the dark stubble on his top lip. His tongue shot out to lick it away.

  “They have gone to the cinema to watch the new film, Dr Zhivago.” She saw Tom’s eyebrows pucker in confusion. “You know, the new one staring Omar Sharif and Julie Christie?”

  “Ah yes, my sister has been going on about it all week. Well, Omar Sharif anyway, she thinks he is the best thing around!” Tom laughed.

  Willow chuckled, remembering briefly what it was like to be a teenager, in love with everyone. She shook her head, no she wouldn’t want to go through that again.

  “Teenagers!” She gave a husky laugh and a pretend shudder. “How old is Anne now?”

  “Seventeen.” Tom answered while watching Willow pour the last pint.

  “Wow, seems like yesterday that she was only a little girl! Where does time fly?” she mused.

  “Yep, we are all getting older.” Tom grinned, not really bothered about age. To him, it seemed as though women worried more about getting older than men, his sister, Ria, did anyway.

  “You wouldn’t think that about my parents at the moment.” Willow interrupted his thoughts. “Since I have come back to live here, my parents are romancing each other again!” Willow laughed more to herself.
She was secretly delighted that her parents were still in love with each other after years of marriage. She sighed, it was just what she wanted, but couldn’t achieve with Robert. She pushed the thought quickly out of her mind and gave a husky laugh and a pretend shudder.

  Tom looked at Willow, while thinking briefly of his own parents, a little confused by the brief sadness he witnessed in her soft brown eyes. His parents were always hugging and kissing even after years of marriage, he was definitely comfortable with seeing affection as it was so ingrained into their family life.

  “Anyway, they are going away to my Aunty’s farm for two weeks. She lives in North Wales. So I’m in charge for a change. It will be me kicking you out at closing time.” She wagged a finger at him, but with a smile on her mouth. “So no lock-ins for anyone.”

  Tom placed a look of mock horror on his face. “Ah. Don’t be a spoil sport! I would like to see you try…” He pointed towards his table. “…and you will have to break the news to that lot. I won’t be held responsible for their reactions.” He quipped back.

  Tom enjoyed having a little banter with Willow at the bar, she was like one of the lads as you could have a good laugh with her. Tom had noticed that she was around much more lately, since her marriage had ended. From recollection it had ended a while ago, but she had only recently come to live with her parents. He knew from the gossips that she had come to live back in the Red Lion with her father and mother; he had also heard that her husband had cheated on her. Tom took another sip of his pint and coughed quietly, feeling a little awkward. “Mmmm, by the way, I know you have been back a while now, but it’s nice to see you behind the bar again. I am sorry your marriage didn’t work out.”

  Willow averted her hazel coloured eyes, while she wiped the spills on the bar down. “Yes well. Rob didn’t turn out to be the ‘one woman’ type of husband unfortunately. But we live and learn. ‘What doesn’t kill us make us stronger,’ isn’t that the saying?”

  “Ay, that’s one way of looking at it. Still he shouldn’t have treated you like that. How much do I owe?”

  Tom pulled out the right amount from his back pocket, gave her a wink and made his way back to his friends, hands full with four pints. Willow was all but forgotten, as the chorus of friends started shouting; “You took long enough!”, “I’m dying of thirst here!”

  After a busy couple of hours serving, Willow took her well-deserved break. Her feet were killing her, even though she had worn flat, sensible, leather shoes. Not that she ever needed to wear heels, she towered over most people. Sometimes she cursed having her father’s ‘tall’ gene; what she wouldn’t give to be small and petite at times. Still, her height was handy behind the bar; at least she could reach the glasses without stretching!

  Her height was the reason she ended up with the nick name Willow in school, which still stuck now. Her real name, Janet, seemed like a distant memory which only her parents used. She shifted on the stool, watching her glass as she swirled lemonade around in it. She caught her breath as her throat constricted slightly. She wasn’t even Mrs Janet Evans now, she was back to Miss Janet Dawkins. Tears misted her eyes and she desperately tried to swallow the familiar lump that clawed at her throat. No, Robert Evans didn’t turn out what she expected, which still hurt her right down to the bone.

  Willow heaved a sigh when she thought back to when she first met the new boy when he arrived at her Comprehensive school. Blond, tall, good looking and with an English accent, he had all the girls falling at his feet. But to Willow’s surprise, he had been interested in her. He had pursued her relentlessly.

  Up until Robert showed interest in her, as most boys in school only came up to her shoulders, they just teased her, calling her all sorts of names. Names and taunts which usually left her crying into her pillow at night time. After years of tormenting, it took her along time to trust that Robert wasn’t joking about liking her. She was astounded that someone like him was genuinely interested in her, tall, gangly Janet. What she hadn’t realised, mainly due to the impact of years of teasing, was that she was blossoming into a beautiful woman.

  Her school life changed, when she started to date the hot new boy. Rob had taken one of the taunting names, willow, and used it as her nickname. It had instantly made her feel interesting and glamorous, rather than trying unsuccessfully, to blend into the background. She no longer had to walk with stooped shoulders, trying to be the same height as everyone else. The teasing instantly stopping.

  Willow felt as though her life was complete when he asked her to marry him when she was nineteen. How beautiful she felt on her wedding day a couple of years later. Her white wedding dress and her blonde curly hair flowing, threaded with spring flowers, and Rob, so handsome, in his suit.

  Her married life had been wonderful for three years. They scraped together some money to put on a small terraced house, with her parents acting as guarantors. She worked in the Red Lion for her parents, whenever she wanted, and Rob, worked at the Grand Theatre. They had just started to discuss her coming off the pill, to start the much wanted family. Willow felt her shoulders slump and heart miss a beat. As it turned out, it was her that wanted a family, Robert wanted to leave her, to live with a showgirl he had met at the Grand Theatre.

  Two years later, divorce granted, Robert was goodness knows where, while she was back living with her parents after struggling to sell their first home. The tiny little terraced house, which she had lovingly furnished with second hand furniture, had to be sold to cover costs. The rest was divided between them by solicitors, just like her heart, split in two. Her life was in tatters. After being in hibernation for a long time, licking her wounds, she had eventually felt like working at the Red Lion again. She was thankful for the unwavering support of her family and friends who had helped her through it.

  In retrospect, selling their home had been liberating and coming back to work too, had helped her get her life back on track. Even though she had been back for a while now, the odd customer who had enough courage, like Tom, still commented on her situation. She always smiled, but she was still raw even after thinking at times she was healing. What she did know, was that she never wanted to trust her heart to anyone anymore. She didn’t think she could survive having it trampled on again.

  A crash of glass pulled her out of her day dream. Willow sighed, back to reality with a crash, the story of her life.

  Chapter 3

  “Mam, don’t bother making me any tea tonight.” Tom looked up from the last spoonful of his porridge and homemade blackberry jam that his mother had made.

  Megan eyed her eldest son, “You’re not gambling down the Red Lion again are you?”

  Tom laughed as he strolled to put his empty bowl into the sink. “Mam, that is the same line you have been giving me since I have been old enough to drink!” He continued to walk over to his mother, who was making a pot of tea, and planted a kiss on her head.

  “As it happens we have a big delivery coming tonight and I don’t know what time we will be finishing. So, everyone is going to the Red Lion after for a pie and a pint afterwards. Mrs Dawkins, the landlady, makes a lovely steak and ale pie.” He looked down onto his mother, who at a little over five feet was tiny next to his six feet. “But obviously her pie isn’t as good as yours.”

  Megan gave her son a pretend shove away. “Go on with you! Always the sweet talker! Do you want a cup of tea before you go?”

  “Ay, yes please. The kitchen is empty this morning, where is everyone?” Tom enquired, while listening for the normal household noise that usually filled the house.

  “I’m waiting for your father and Michael to come home from work. They had to do an extra shift down the mines as there are a lot off because of the flu. Anne and Sam are supposed to be getting ready for school…” Meg rolled her eyes at this as she knew she would have to start raising her voice to hurry them up soon. “..and…”

  Tom’s eyes flicked quickly to his mother, he didn’t miss her gripping the sink and wiping a tear away.
Even though it had been nearly five years since his younger brother Johnny had died, his death still affected them all considerably. Johnny had only been eight when pneumonia had finally got him after years of being weak from his bout of measles when he as small. It was the worst thing Tom had ever experienced. Even though, as a family, they knew the end was near, it still ripped the hearts out of them all, the pain immeasurable.

  He remembered immediately before, how pleased all the family were when his sister and her husband announced they were expecting a baby after three years of marriage. Everyone was so happy for Ria and Morgan, they were all excited about a new addition to the family. Johnny had been especially pleased as he loved Ria unquestionably, they had a special bond between them. She always came to visit him even though she was now married and lived further away. When she had finished school, Ria had unselfishly given up her dream of becoming a nurse to work in a factory, to get the extra money the family needed for Johnny.

  A month before their baby was due, Johnny succumbed to pneumonia. Just after the funeral, Ria had been so heart-broken that she went into labour a month early. Luckily, the little boy she delivered had survived and they called him Johnny Templeton in remembrance of her beloved brother. Fortunately, Morgan and Ria’s boy, was now a strapping, normal, active five year old boy.

  Tom could recall everything as though it was yesterday, which is why he tried not to think about it too much, it still hurt him deeply. Tom tried to change the subject, it wounded him too much to see his mother so upset, and more so, because he couldn’t do a blind thing about it. “Willow is back in the pub full time.” He shook his head, confused to why he just mentioned Willow. He shrugged his shoulders, he hadn’t even been thinking of her.

  “Willow?” his mother looked puzzled.