by Rosie Harris
‘Don’t take on, cariad,’ Maria said softly. ‘I’m just a silly old busybody trying to do a bit of matchmaking. Of course Glanmor is the one for you, we both know that. He’ll be back, and when he finds you aren’t living in Margaret Street, then he’ll come looking for me to see what I can tell him. He always knows he’ll find me outside the station. Which is another reason why I must pull myself together and get back there,’ she added stoically.
It was early summer before Maria was well enough to return to work.
‘You’re not well enough, but your regular customers are missing you and constantly asking after you.’ Fern sighed. ‘I suppose a couple of hours a day on the stall would be all right.’
‘If I’m well enough to do a few hours each day on the stall, then I am well enough to be outside the station,’ Maria argued.
‘It’s too draughty there for you,’ Fern told her.’
‘Rubbish! It’s the middle of summer!’
‘Yes, and you’ll find it exhausting standing there in the hot sun,’ Fern argued.
‘One minute it’s too draughty and the next it’s too hot. Make your mind up, cariad,’ Maria said crossly.
‘I think you’d be better off on the stall where there are other people around if you need help.’
‘You mean like that nice Rhodri Richards,’ Maria said, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
‘Most of the stallholders would help if they saw you needed it,’ Fern answered, refusing to rise to the bait.
‘Very well, I’ll work on the stall for a few weeks as long as you promise that I can go back to my pitch the moment I feel strong enough to do so.’
‘Not for at least another month or two. What is more, I want you to promise that once the weather starts getting colder again you’ll switch back to the stall,’ Fern insisted.
She knew Maria was still hoping that she would take up with Rhodri and was constantly telling her what a fine-looking boyo he was, but although she agreed with Maria about that she had no intention of going out with him. She was only interested in Glanmor and he was constantly in her thoughts, especially in those quiet moments before she drifted off to sleep.
She tried to visualize what he must look like now. After almost two years he’d be a full-grown man and probably look quite different.
Maria seemed to take on a new lease of life once she was back working her pitch and even when the autumn winds became chill she refused to let Fern take her place outside the station. Maria was still working there the week before Christmas even though it was horribly cold and wet.
‘I’ll wrap up really warm; I’ll put on two of everything. I’ll even put two shawls round my shoulders then, if the top one happens to get wet, I can take it off,’ Maria told her.
‘What about your feet, though? Standing there for hours – they’ll be like blocks of ice,’ Fern persisted.
‘Nonsense, cariad.’ Maria shook her head. ‘I’ll be wearing two pairs of thick woollen stockings and they’ll keep my legs and feet snug and warm. You make up plenty of holly wreaths and don’t forget I’ll want some as well as sprigs of mistletoe. Don’t go keeping back all the best bits for your stall,’ she added as an afterthought.
‘Those as well as flowers will make the tray too heavy for you to carry,’ Fern warned.
‘Not a bit of it. I’ll only have mistletoe and posies in my tray and Rhodri can bring over a bigger one with all the wreaths on it and stand it on the ground by my feet.’
‘You might turn giddy bending down to pick them up,’ Fern said worriedly. ‘Do you think we could put up a trestle table?’
‘No, cariad, the station people wouldn’t allow it. Now don’t worry, I’ll tell the customers to pick out the wreath they want so they’ll be the ones doing the stooping down, not me.’
For the few days leading up to Christmas, Fern was so busy on the stall that she hadn’t time to worry too much about Maria. A couple of times she asked Rhodri to keep an eye on things while she dashed over the road to make sure that Maria was all right.
‘Of course I’m all right. Now, get yourself back to your stall and stop worrying about me,’ Maria told her crossly.
When they finally packed up on Christmas Eve, Maria was far from well. She claimed it was just a touch of the sniffles but Fern could see that she was having trouble breathing.
Maria tried to make light of it, talking about what good business they’d done, but by the time they reached home she was not only shivering but coughing and wheezing.
‘You’d better take off all those damp clothes and go straight to bed,’ Fern told her. ‘I’ll bring you some hot soup.’
‘That’s no way to spend Christmas Eve,’ Maria panted. ‘There’re dozens of jobs to be done. I haven’t stuffed the chicken yet.’
‘I’ll see to it, so don’t worry. Go on, get yourself undressed and into bed. As soon as the kettle boils I’ll make you a cup of hot cocoa and I’ll fill a hot-water bottle to warm up your feet.’
‘I don’t want to go to bed. I was planning to make some mince pies tonight,’ Maria protested.
‘You’ve already made a Christmas cake so we can eat that instead.’ Fern smiled.
‘Christmas isn’t the same without a mince pie,’ Maria grumbled. ‘Supposing someone should call round to see us tomorrow – we’d have nothing at all to offer them.’
‘We’d have the Christmas cake,’ Fern reminded her. ‘Anyway,’ she added with a light laugh, ‘we’re not likely to get any visitors, now, are we?’
‘I don’t know; we might have a visitor. I did tell Rhodri to call round for a cup of tea and a mince pie if he felt like it. It was only my way of saying thank you to him for all his help over the last few days,’ she added quickly as she saw Fern frown.
‘Then I’ll make some mince pies tonight, if that’s what it is going to take to make you go to bed.’
When she took Maria a hot drink Fern felt concerned about how ill Maria looked. There were two bright flushes of colour on her cheeks and her forehead was burning hot.
‘I really think we ought to call in a doctor,’ she said worriedly. ‘He could give you something to stop you getting any worse.’
‘Rubbish! We don’t want to waste the money I’ve struggled to earn on a doctor,’ Maria croaked.
By next morning, however, there was no question of whether or not to send for a doctor. Maria’s breathing was so terribly laboured that she could barely speak.
Fern had no idea where to find the nearest doctor on duty so, pulling on her hat and coat, she ran down the road and round the corner to Rhodri’s house to ask him if he knew.
‘You get back home and take care of Maria and I’ll go and fetch one for you,’ he offered.
‘Do you mind? It’s Christmas Day, you must have plans of your own,’ she added shyly.
‘Oh I have,’ he grinned, ‘I’ll be sitting down to a meat pie and a bottle of beer for my Christmas dinner.’
‘You mean you are all on your own?’
‘That’s right. In fact, I was thinking of taking up Maria’s invitation and dropping in to see you both this afternoon.’
‘Then it’s a good job I did as Maria asked and made some mince pies last night.’ Fern smiled. ‘I would ask you to our Christmas Dinner, if you like. We’re planning on having roast chicken and there will be Christmas pudding with custard. Doesn’t that sound better than a pork pie?’
‘It most certainly does!’ he agreed, his face creasing into a broad smile as he pulled on his cap and wound a muffler round his neck. ‘Perhaps we’d better wait and see what the doctor has to say first, though. You mightn’t have time to cook a fancy dinner if you have Maria to look after.’
Chapter Eighteen
Maria had developed bronchitis and was ill for several weeks. At first the doctor was afraid that it might turn into pneumonia and that she would have to go into hospital again, but with Fern’s careful nursing she slowly began to make a recovery.
Throughout the difficul
t weeks of trying to look after Maria and run both stall and pitch, Rhodri was a tower of strength. Fern knew she could never have managed without his help. She and Maria were so grateful to him that they invited him to come to their place for a meal when he’d finished work each evening.
‘Duw anwyl, you don’t need to go to that much trouble. I’m used to looking after myself so you don’t have to feed me every night; you’ve got enough to do as it is,’ he told Fern.
‘Maria likes to see you. She says it’s as good as a tonic to talk to you,’ Fern said, smiling.
‘Oh, does she indeed! Well, all she talks about is you, cariad. You and your future,’ he added.
‘I see. I did wonder why you wanted to come every night,’ Fern joked.
Although she tried to keep the banter between them light she was well aware of his feelings. His eyes seem to follow her every movement and she wondered what else Maria had said to him. She hoped that she hadn’t brought up the subject of marriage because, much as she liked Rhodri and was grateful for his help, she simply wasn’t interested in him other than as a friend.
It was the beginning of February, though, before Maria was fit to work again and then she agreed that she would take things easy. Fern insisted that for a short while Maria should serve on the stall on Fridays while she took her place outside the station.
‘If you are working on the stall then I won’t have to worry about you because Rhodri will be alongside you and he will keep an eye on you.’
‘Yes, and he’ll be worrying about you instead,’ Maria commented dryly. ‘I don’t like the idea of you selling out in the street while it’s dark so early.’
‘There’s no need for either of you to worry; I cut my teeth on the pitch, remember.’
Their conversation went through her mind as she loaded up a large trug with plants and flowers and a second, lighter, tray with small posies and buttonholes.
She had almost finished for the night and was putting the few remaining posies into the trug to make it easier to carry them back to the stall when a tall bearded man came up to her.
‘I’m afraid there’s not very much choice left this late in the evening,’ she murmured without looking up from what she was doing.
‘Oh, I’ve seen what I want,’ he said, and at the sound of his voice Fern looked up, startled.
‘Still selling flowers then,’ he commented, his blue eyes twinkling.
‘Glanmor?’ Fern stared at the broad-shouldered man in disbelief. ‘Glanmor! Is it really you?’ she gasped as she studied the tanned, bearded face.
‘I was hoping I would find you here. My mother said she had no idea where you were living these days.’
They stared at each other for a moment longer, each taking in the changes in the other’s appearance and then she was in his arms and he was holding her so tightly that she could hardly breathe.
When he kissed her, she laughed and pulled away. ‘That tickles,’ she told him.
‘Really!’ He affected mock surprise. ‘Perhaps, then, it’s a good job I’ve only grown a beard and not a moustache as well.’
‘If you had then I wouldn’t have let you kiss me,’ Fern told him.
‘Are you saying you want me to take it off?’ Glanmor questioned, pretending to look hurt. ‘It’s taken me almost two years to grow it and I’m very proud of it.’
Fern looked serious and then, experimentally, she stroked it. ‘No, perhaps not. It does make you look different, though; quite grown-up, in fact,’ she teased.
‘I am grown-up.’
‘Oh, Glanmor, it’s so wonderful to see you.’ Her arms went round his neck and her lips sought his. This time, as he responded, she didn’t draw back but gave way to her pent-up passion.
‘Hey! Steady on! You’ll be getting us arrested.’ Glanmor smiled but he kept his arm firmly round her waist, pulling her as close to his side as he could, and giving her a tight hug.
‘Are you home for good?’ Fern asked anxiously, her eyes searching his face.
Glanmor shook his head. ‘No, cariad, I’m only ashore for a month or two. Well, that is if I want to rejoin the Saturn. She’s in dry dock for repairs at the moment but as soon as those are done we’ll be making another trip to Russia.’
Fern bit her lip and said nothing but she wished she hadn’t asked. Knowing that he would be leaving again so soon in some ways ruined everything.
‘Come on; don’t let’s worry about that at the moment, cariad. I’m here now and you’re more lovely than ever,’ the arm round her waist tightened and she felt his lips against her cheek. ‘I’ve been dreaming of this moment all the time I’ve been away; I’ve missed you so much. We’ve an awful lot of catching up to do. For a start, you’d better tell me where you are living now.’
‘With Maria in Loudon Square.’
He frowned. ‘I thought you got on well with my mother; what made you move?’
Fern bit her lip and was silent for a moment. ‘It wasn’t your mother, it was him; that Jake Tomlinson, It was all right at first but then things became unpleasant.’
Glanmor looked taken aback. ‘I haven’t met him yet, but you mean he caused trouble between you and my mother?’
‘Far worse than that! He attacked me and tried . . .’ She looked embarrassed. ‘Oh, you know what I’m trying to say. Your mother didn’t believe me so I simply had to leave. When I went to work next day, Maria saw the state I was in and the bruises I’d got in the struggle to get away from him, and she suggested that I move in with her.’
‘Cariad! I’m so sorry.’ He pulled her into his arms again and hugged her close, smoothing her hair back from her brow and then kissing her tenderly.
‘He wouldn’t have dared to lay a finger on you if I’d been around,’ Glanmor assured her.
‘That’s what Maria said but you weren’t here so you couldn’t come to my rescue. She was nearly as upset as I was,’ Fern smiled, ‘I expect she will tell you all about it when she gets the right moment. You are coming home with me to see her?’
‘Isn’t she here with you?’ he asked looking around as if expecting to see her.
‘We have a stall in the Hayes as well now,’ Fern reminded him. ‘Normally I run that and Maria is here. She hasn’t been too well so I thought it was better for me to stand out here than for her to do so. In fact, at the moment we only sell here on a Friday night because I found it was so difficult running both of the sites while Maria was so ill.’
‘So Maria is at home?’
‘She will be by now; she’s been on the stall today. She’s going to be very surprised to see you. We’ve barely heard from you in all the time you’ve been away.’
Glanmor raised his eyebrows. ‘I’ve written to you but you’ve never replied. The letters were all addressed to Margaret Street, of course, because that was where I thought you were still living.’
‘I’ve not had a single one of them and couldn’t write because I had no idea where you were.’
‘You could have addressed it to the Saturn and the name of the shipping company and they would have sent it on.’
‘Maria didn’t think that there was any point in doing that because we didn’t know your destination.’
‘Utter rubbish!’ he exclaimed angrily as they began walking in the direction of Loudon Square. ‘I’m surprised Maria told you a tale like that. I did write to you, Fern, dozens of times, until the last few months and, as you’d never answered, I thought you’d lost inerest and found someone else.’
Fern shook her head, her eyes bright with tears as she realised Alwyn must have kept all the letters Glanmor had sent to her and how near she had come to losing him.
‘So there is no one else?’ he questioned as they turned into the Square.
‘Of course not!’ She squeezed his hand. ‘It’s been so lonely without you; please don’t go away like that again.’
‘I don’t want to give up the sea,’ he said stubbornly.
‘No, I know that, but can’t you sign on for a sho
rter trip? I wouldn’t mind you being away for a month or two but this time you have been gone for years.’
‘If I stay with the same ship, then it will be Russia again,’ he told her. ‘You could come with me, of course.’
‘Go to Russia with you?’ Fern stopped dead and stared at him in disbelief.
‘Why not?’
‘I couldn’t leave Maria in the lurch. It wouldn’t be fair after all she’s done for me. Wait until you see her and you’ll understand what I mean. She’s still quite frail after her illness and she wouldn’t be able to manage the stall or the pitch on her own.’
‘I’m sure she could find someone else to help her; no one is indispensable, you know.’
Fern bit her lip and didn’t answer. She was uncertain about what to say but as they were already in Loudon Square and he would be seeing Maria in a few minutes, she thought it was better to say nothing. Once Glanmor saw Maria then he’d realise why it was impossible for her to leave.
Maria was overjoyed to see Glanmor. For a brief moment she stared at him as if she was seeing a ghost, then she held her arms wide and he was hugging her and she was kissing him, both of them crying.
‘You bad boy,’ she scolded, ‘why have you never written to Fern all the time you’ve been away?’
‘It’s a long story. Fern will explain.’
‘If she believes it then there must be a grain of truth in it,’ Maria commented. ‘Do you want a cup of tea or can you stay and have a meal with us?’
‘I’ll stay if there is enough to go round because by the smell of it you’re having cawl. I’ve dreamed about your delicious soup and Bara Brith while I’ve been away,’ he added with a deep sigh.
‘Get away with you!’ Maria chuckled but Fern could see her eyes had lit up at the compliment.
As Maria went towards the kitchen Fern caught her by the arm and stopped her. ‘I’m sure everything is more or less ready, so while I dish up, why don’t you sit down and talk to Glanmor and catch up on what he’s been doing.’
Maria hesitated, then smiled and nodded. ‘Yes, very well, I am feeling a bit tired. Call out if you need any help,’ she added as Fern went into the kitchen.
