by Lyn Andrews
On the way to the hospital Kate blamed herself. ‘If I hadn’t nagged him to go to the bank, this wouldn’t have happened.’
‘Mam, stop it! It’s not your fault, you were only doing what you thought was best,’ Iris had said and Charlie had agreed but it hadn’t helped, Kate couldn’t stop fretting.
When they arrived, Kate was immediately taken off by the sister in charge, who instructed Iris and Charlie to wait as the doctor was still with their father.
‘Oh, I hope it’s not too bad, Charlie,’ Iris said, biting her lips as they sat on one of the long wooden benches.
‘So do I but that copper wasn’t giving much away, was he? Just said it didn’t look too good. What exactly did he mean by that, I ask you?’ Charlie too was worried but he’d already started to wonder when his father would be able to return to work and how they would manage in the circumstances.
The minutes seemed to drag by but then they were both startled to see a doctor, accompanied by the sister who’d told them to wait, appear and beckon to them. Their sombre expressions made Iris tremble with a growing fear. ‘Can we see him now, please? Is he going to be all right?’ she pleaded.
‘Of course you can see him, but … but I’m afraid he has succumbed to his injuries, which were serious. He died a few minutes ago. I’m so sorry.’
The tears that had been welling in her eyes began to slide down Iris’s cheeks as she clung to her brother for support. It couldn’t be true! Da couldn’t have died! He’d been fine that morning – his usual good-natured self.
‘Mam …?’ Charlie said, his voice cracking with grief. He’d seen hundreds of men die and die horribly, but this was his father!
‘Naturally very upset and shocked. Would you take them to her please, sister?’
Iris didn’t remember that short journey down the white-tiled corridor but when she saw her mother cradling her father’s head in her arms and sobbing brokenly, the sheet covering him covered in blood, she too broke down. Charlie, too, was fighting back tears as he gently put his hand on Kate’s shoulder.
‘Mam, he … he was so badly injured. He must have been in great pain. It … it’s for the best,’ he tried to comfort her.
Kate raised a tear-blotched face. ‘What am I going to do without him, Charlie? He was the love of my life, my best friend and I sent him off to the bank! I sent him to his death!’
Before he could answer the sister took charge. ‘Now, Mrs Mundy, you must not think like that! Accidents happen and that’s exactly what they are. Tragic accidents. You are shocked and overwrought but you must not blame yourself. You are all shocked and overwrought. I’ll get one of the student nurses to bring you some sweet tea while the formalities are taken care of.’ She turned to Charlie, who was obviously more in control of his emotions. ‘Young man, could I ask you to accompany me to the office?’
Charlie nodded grimly and followed her out while both Kate and Iris tried to stop crying.
‘He … he looks peaceful now, Mam,’ Iris at last managed to say. He did, she thought. If it weren’t for the bloodstained sheet he’d look as if he were just asleep. Her mind and emotions were in turmoil but she had to try to help calm her mam and stop her blaming herself.
Kate’s sobs were diminishing. ‘It … it’s just such a … shock, Iris. I … I always thought we’d grow old together. He … he wasn’t even fifty-five.’
Iris clung to her. ‘I know, Mam.’
A young nurse arrived and asked them to follow her as she’d organised some tea and they needed to attend to Mr Mundy now. Reluctantly they left, holding tightly to each other, and when they entered the small room adjacent to the matron’s office they found Charlie waiting. The details of the accident had been relayed to him. A lorry had skidded, mounted the pavement and crushed Bill against the wall of a building. His injuries both external and internal had been so serious that there had never been any doubt that they would prove fatal.
‘I’ve got the death certificate, Mam, and I’ll attend to all the other formalities tomorrow. You’re too upset.’
Kate nodded slowly. A funeral would have to be arranged but she couldn’t think about things like that now. She just couldn’t.
‘Rose! Charlie, we’ll have to get word to Rose, she’ll have to come home,’ Iris cried, suddenly remembering her sister.
Charlie nodded. ‘I’ll go and see Florence’s father after I’ve got you both home.’
Iris stared at him in some confusion.
‘He’s got a telephone, hasn’t he? If Mam’s got the number for the post office in Tregarron we can phone. She can get the next bus home.’
‘I … I think I’ve got it somewhere but I’m not sure …’ Kate couldn’t think straight.
‘Don’t worry, Mam. I’m sure we can find out,’ Charlie reassured her. He was certain that Mr Taylor wouldn’t object under the circumstances and he would be able to inform Florence of the tragedy at the same time.
By the time they’d got home and he’d given his mother and sister a drop of brandy each and had one himself it was getting quite late. He wondered if he should leave it until tomorrow, but then decided no, it had to be tonight.
Edward Taylor was surprised to see the lad when he opened the door but given the lateness of the hour and Charlie’s expression he realised something was very wrong. ‘Come in, Charlie. What’s happened?’
He listened in silence as Charlie told him of the accident and then, giving the lad a tot of brandy and a pat on the shoulder, went to fetch his wife and daughter.
Florence immediately went and sat next to him and took his hand, tears welling up in her eyes.
‘Oh, Charlie, I’m so very, very sorry. Your mother and Iris …?’
Before he could answer Ethel spoke, moved by his plight. ‘Heart-broken, I imagine, and no wonder. The shock.’ She shook her head, thinking of young Iris.
Charlie finished his drink but still felt shocked. ‘It’s our Rose, you see. We’ve got to let her know and tell her to come home. I’ve the number for the post office in Tregarron and I was wondering if I could possibly …’
‘Of course you can use the telephone, but isn’t it too late? Will there be anyone to answer it? Does your mother’s friend live on the premises?’ Edward Taylor asked, thinking of the practicalities.
‘She lives in the adjacent cottage,’ Charlie replied. He hadn’t given a thought to whether Gwen would hear the phone.
Florence’s father stood up. ‘Right, we’ll try and if there’s no reply you can call again in the morning. I take it there is public transport of some kind your sister can use to get home? The train?’
‘There’s a bus service twice a week,’ Charlie informed him.
‘Not exactly regular,’ the older man commented as they went into the hall. When they managed to get hold of Rose he’d arrange something, he thought, even if he had to drive there himself. The poor girl would be distraught and if she had to wait for days to get home it wouldn’t help.
They had some difficulty getting through to the exchange and when the operator suggested that as the number wasn’t answering they should try tomorrow, Edward explained that it was an emergency and that she should let it continue to ring.
Finally Gwen answered and Charlie told her what had happened. She gasped, ‘Oh, my God! I’ll go and get poor Rose now!’ but he stopped her, asking that she just tell Rose and say she must get the next bus home. At length she agreed, after he’d said it would be better for Rose if she heard the terrible news from Gwen personally, rather than over the telephone.
As he replaced the receiver he thanked Florence’s father. ‘I do appreciate your help. I … I’d better get back now to Mam.’
‘These next few days are going to be pretty grim for you, Charlie, and if you need to use the telephone again don’t hesitate to call. We are all very, very sorry, please tell your mother that.’
‘I will,’ Charlie replied as Florence kissed him on the cheek and promised to come and see Iris after work tomorrow.
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‘And if there isn’t a bus either tomorrow or the day after, I’ll go and bring Rose home myself. Can’t leave the poor girl there waiting, she’ll be frantic,’ Edward offered as he showed Charlie out.
As he closed the door Florence went to him and hugged him, thinking how upset poor Charlie must be and knowing how she would feel if anything terrible happened to her father. It was a very sobering thought.
Chapter Ten
ROSE COULDN’T TAKE IT in. Gwen had woken her and told her the tragic news as gently as she could and had then sat with her as she’d sobbed brokenly. Later that morning before Gwen opened the post office she ran up to tell Bethan Williams what had happened and ask her to sit with Rose as she had to go into the shop.
‘Of course I will, Gwen. I’ll try and give her what little comfort I can. She’ll be going home then?’ Bethan asked as she hastily took off her apron and reached for a cardigan.
‘As soon as possible, Bethan, but I can’t see a way of going with her myself and I don’t want her to have to go alone, she’s in no fit state. Broken-hearted she is, poor love.’
‘Don’t worry about that, we’ll think of something. Maybe I could go with her.’
‘I’m distracted with it all, Bethan, I really am. And poor, poor Kate: how must she be feeling?’
‘At least she’s got Iris and Charlie with her, we have to thank God for that.’
Bethan spent the rest of the morning making cups of tea and trying to comfort Rose but she felt very helpless. All Rose kept saying was that she should have gone home earlier than this and she’d regret it all her life that she’d not been there when her poor da was dying. She couldn’t believe that she would never see him or hear his voice again.
‘But you will, Rose, you have to believe that. He’ll be waiting for you in heaven, cariad,’ she comforted her.
Gwen came in at lunchtime, looking anxious and flustered. ‘How is she, Bethan? I’ve been so distracted that I’ve had to tell people why and then I’ve spent most of the morning trying to persuade them not to knock and offer their condolences. It’s too soon.’
As she again put the kettle on Bethan nodded. ‘It is. I’ve persuaded her to go and lie down but I doubt she’ll sleep. She’s sort of dazed but that’s only to be expected. Has there been any more news from Liverpool?’
Gwen took the cup of tea her friend offered. ‘Just before I closed up a gentleman telephoned: a Mr Taylor. He said he was the father of Charlie’s “young lady”, who is also a friend of Iris’s. He said he’d drive over tomorrow in his motor car and take Rose back as there won’t be a bus for three days and Charlie is arranging the funeral.’
Bethan nodded. ‘That’s very kind of him.’
‘It’s a great relief to me too. She couldn’t go on the bus in the state she’s in. I’ll get her things together tonight after supper.’
‘Don’t you worry about that, Gwen. I’ll do it this afternoon.’
Gwen reached over and patted her hand. ‘It’s times like this when you need good friends and you’ve always been there when I needed you, Bethan. I just wish I could go over and see poor Kate.’
Bethan nodded as she sipped her tea. ‘Go on the next bus, Gwen. I’ll cover for you. You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t,’ she urged.
Edward Taylor arrived mid-morning the following day and, putting a note on the shop door, Gwen took him into the cottage where Rose was sitting waiting, her case packed. She was a little calmer but her eyes were swollen and red and she was very pale.
‘Rose, I’m Florence’s father and I’m so very sorry about what’s happened. I’ve come to take you home,’ he greeted her gently. He felt very sorry for the whole family but young Charlie was proving to be a sensible and reliable lad. He hadn’t gone to pieces the way both his mother and sisters had and that was a real blessing, although he’d confided that he’d miss his father terribly.
Rose nodded, unable to dispel the numbing mist that was clogging her mind. She had slept fitfully, exhausted by grief, shock and the tears she’d shed. She just wanted to get home to her mam. ‘Thank you. I don’t know if I could have faced … the bus,’ she replied.
He took her case out to the car while Gwen hugged her tightly.
‘I’ll miss you, Rose, I really will. I’ve loved having you here but now your mam needs you. I’ll see you soon though, I’ll be over on the next bus to see you all. Bethan is going to stand in for me. Tell your mam that.’
Rose buried her head in the older woman’s shoulder. ‘I … I’ll miss you too, Aunty Gwen. Everyone here has been so kind to me. I felt so … settled here.’
‘Maybe you’ll come back one day, cariad. You’ll always be welcome. Now, let’s not keep Mr Taylor waiting.’
Rose waved as the car drew away, wondering if she would ever come back to Tregarron where she had been so happy – until this terrible thing had happened.
When she finally arrived home she found her mother and Iris sitting in the kitchen and she could see from their red and puffy eyes that they had had as bad a night as she herself had.
Iris ran to her and hugged her and Rose broke down and sobbed for the room, so familiar from babyhood, seemed so empty and alien without her father.
Kate tried to comfort them both, making a huge effort to pull herself together. ‘Now, try and calm down, both of you. Rose, come and sit down, luv, and I’ll make a pot of tea.’
‘I don’t want any. I’ve drunk so much of it that just the thought of it makes me feel sick,’ Rose said, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. ‘Where’s our Charlie?’
‘Gone to Brougham Terrace to … to register the …’ Kate fought down a sob, unable to bring herself to say the word ‘death’.
Iris spooned the tea into the pot. She really didn’t want any either but she had to do something, she thought miserably. ‘Even though he’s terribly upset he … he’s been very good, seeing to all the formal things,’ she told her sister.
‘Everyone has been so kind. The Taylors and all the neighbours. Mrs Taylor sent a lovely card, it arrived in the first post, and Mr Taylor insisted on going to Tregarron and doing all the telephoning,’ Kate added.
‘Florence came straight from work yesterday, she was very upset, and she’s promised to come again tonight. I put a notice on the door of the shop but Mrs Marshall and Mrs Connolly have offered to take over until Mam feels up to it again, if we can sort out supplies with the market people,’ Iris continued.
Kate nodded wearily; she was thankful for their offers of assistance. In this neighbourhood when tragedy struck everyone knuckled down and helped out as best they could and they’d all called, every woman in the entire street, and all with sincere words about how much Bill would be missed.
‘’E was a proper gentleman, Kate. Kind, pleasant – treated us all as if we were somebody when we went into the shop and was always delighted when we could afford ter redeem our stuff. “’Is valued and regular ladies” ’e always called us. Aye, ’e was the salt of the earth, luv, and we’ll miss ’im,’ Ada Marshall had assured her. And there had been cards and messages from the proprietors of other businesses, particularly other pawnbrokers, including Cookson’s down on Scotland Road.
‘Aunty Gwen is coming on the next bus, Mam, though not to stay. Mrs Williams is going to cover for her in the post office,’ Rose said, thinking that she really must make an effort to find the energy to unpack.
‘That’s good of her – good of them both,’ Kate replied, the tears again threatening to overwhelm her. She really didn’t know Bethan Williams all that well; people were so kind and thoughtful and she drew comfort from it, knowing that there were dark days ahead.
The funeral was arranged for the end of the week and they were all dreading it. ‘It … it will seem so … final. I know Da’s … gone … but it doesn’t seem real,’ Iris had said to Rose, who had agreed but who repeated what Bethan Williams had said and confided that it was something that she was clinging to.
The
church was packed to capacity that summer morning for Bill Mundy had been well liked and respected in the neighbourhood and everyone who could spare an hour had come. As the hearse had travelled slowly through the streets people had stopped what they were doing and stood in silence. Men had taken off their caps and women had bowed their heads, a policeman had even saluted and, although grief-stricken, Kate had felt a rush of pride in the man she had loved and been married to for all those years. She would never forget all their gestures of sympathy.
Iris, desperately fighting back her tears, was holding Rose’s hand tightly as both girls slowly followed their mother and brother up the aisle. Charlie, dry-eyed but pale, felt that at least the war had taught him how to hide his feelings and appear dignified although inside he felt bereft. He knew he would struggle to hold back his tears, but he was pleased and moved to see Florence, accompanied by both her parents, in the congregation. They stood out being far better dressed than everyone else, wearing the full black of mourning and not just an armband as most people were.
The whole day had passed in something of a blur, Rose thought as the last of the neighbours left having tidied up after the funeral tea.
‘I’m exhausted,’ Kate said, sinking into a chair. It had been the hardest day she’d ever lived through. Not even when Charlie had been away in the trenches had she endured such a trial but she’d had Bill by her side to help her through that ordeal.
‘We all are, Mam. Why don’t you go on up? Rose and I will put these last few bits away,’ Iris urged.
‘Mam, there’s something I have to discuss with you,’ Charlie said tentatively. ‘I know it’s not exactly the best time but, well, it’s a bit pressing, like.’
‘What?’ Iris demanded, wondering just what was so pressing that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
‘What do you want to do about the shop? Da’s shop. It’s Friday tomorrow and you know people always come in to redeem their clothes for the weekend.’
Kate nodded. It was a custom that had been adhered to for decades. The women brought all the decent clothes in on a Monday and redeemed them on Friday when the men were paid. It was a way of borrowing a few shillings that would help to tide them over the week and everyone had what passed for their best clothes back for the weekend.
