Pontypridd 07 - Spoils of War

by Catrin Collier

  ‘I can’t get over how much he looks like Charlie.’

  ‘But, to quote our employee, he’s an odd bastard.’

  ‘Can’t get any odder than that mechanic and, as Huw said, the boy’s had a tough time being brought up the way he has.’

  ‘By the look of him he knows how to take care of himself.’

  ‘All the better for us. No one will try to pull a fast one with him around.’

  ‘You like him, don’t you, Will?’

  ‘I owe Charlie big time for giving me a job in the depression. And you heard, the kid’s good with engines, even if he does ask girls to go to bed with him.’

  ‘That really tickled you.’

  ‘I wish I’d thought of that approach when I was his age. I might not have had to wait so long.’

  ‘From what I heard about you and Vera Collins you didn’t.’

  ‘Don’t go saying that in front of Tina.’

  ‘She doesn’t know?’

  ‘Let’s say she’s forgiven me now I’ve promised to stay on the straight and narrow and come home nights.’

  ‘Man said you wanted to see me, Mr Ronconi.’

  ‘Yes, Peter. If you want a job it’s yours.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Eight-hour day, five-and-a-half-day week, four pounds. If there’s overtime at night or Sunday you can either take time off or I’ll pay you two shillings an hour.’

  Peter frowned.

  ‘You got a problem with that?’ William asked.

  ‘How many half a crowns in a pound?’

  ‘Eight, why?’

  Peter remembered what Feodor had said about two being a day’s wages and decided he was being offered better pay than his father would have given him to work in his shop. ‘I’ll work for you.’

  ‘Good.’ Ronnie looked carefully at him. ‘I’m now going to tell you what we tell everyone who works for us, but first a warning: you’ll get no special or different treatment because we’re friends of your father.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘We’re paying you good wages, we expect your total loyalty and honesty. You steal from us we go to the police and prosecute you. You want to borrow anything from the garage – a car – a tool – anything – you ask. If we say no, that’s it. If you take it without permission we’ll go to the police and tell them you stole it. If we agree you can borrow something we’ll expect whatever it is back the next day in the same condition you borrowed it in or we’ll dock the damage or loss from your wages.’

  ‘Dock?’

  ‘Take.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘And there’s dirty jobs in every place. Everyone here takes a turn at them and that includes cleaning the toilets.’

  ‘I’ve cleaned toilets before.’

  ‘You buy your own overalls. Here,’ Ronnie pulled two pounds from his pocket. ‘That’s an advance on your first week’s wages. You’ll need two pairs and a pair of good water- and greaseproof boots. You can buy them in town. We’ll expect you first thing Monday morning.’

  ‘If I started tomorrow I could have that blue lorry fixed by the afternoon.’

  ‘It needs a new gearbox.’

  ‘There’s a good one on the green lorry you’ve got for sale. Wouldn’t it be better to get the lorry that’s in for repair working and wait for the new part for the one you want to sell?’

  ‘Yes, it would. Tell you what, Peter, come in tomorrow after you’ve picked up your work clothes.’

  ‘I’ll get them today.’

  ‘No you won’t,’ William warned. ‘The shops are closed for half-day. How long do you reckon it will take you to swap over those gearboxes?’

  ‘A few hours, why?’

  ‘There’s a scrap yard I’d like to show you. It’s full of broken-down cars. Do you think you could sort out what’s usable from what’s not?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Hello, Peter,’ Bethan smiled warily at him as she walked into the office. ‘Nice to see you again.’

  ‘You know Mr Ronconi and Mr Powell?’ he asked in surprise as she kissed Ronnie’s and William’s cheeks.

  ‘My brother-in-law and my cousin. Half the people in Pontypridd are related. I’ve been to see Diana, Ronnie.’

  ‘She’s all right?’ Ronnie and William asked in unison.

  ‘Getting better all the time physically, and looking forward to seeing you and your mother on Saturday, Will; if the ward sister will let you in.’

  ‘From what my mother said, she’s an old cow.’

  ‘Language,’ Bethan warned, looking at Peter.

  ‘Old cow is not so bad, Mrs John.’

  ‘It’s not a description I think you should learn to apply to any woman, Peter.’

  ‘Come on, Peter, show me what you have in mind for that gearbox.’ William led him out on to the forecourt, sensing that Bethan wanted to have a word with Ronnie in private.

  ‘Is he going to work for you?’ Bethan asked Ronnie as soon as Peter and William were out of earshot.

  ‘Would you believe the boy’s a wonder mechanic?’

  ‘I’d believe just about anything of him. It will be good for him to have something to do. I’m not sure Charlie is up to coping with him and his mother right now. She’s not very strong.’

  ‘No one can say that about Peter.’ He joined her at the window. ‘Just look at him lifting that engine. You hear about a boy who’s been brought up in prison and labour camps and you think of a half-starved weakling – well, I did – and in walks this –’

  ‘Thug.’

  ‘That’s a bit harsh, Beth. Give him a chance.’

  ‘I suppose I should.’

  He grinned. ‘Liza told you what he said to her.’

  ‘Liza? I didn’t even know they’d met.’

  ‘According to Huw, they met last night in Ronconi’s café. Peter told her she was pretty then asked her to go to bed with him.’

  ‘The –’

  ‘Liza told Huw it was a language difficulty and got him off the hook.’

  ‘The only problem that boy has with language is he uses too much.’

  ‘You didn’t drive all the way out here to talk about Peter, did you?’

  ‘I didn’t even know he’d be here.’

  ‘That’s what I thought.’

  ‘Diana asked about you today.’

  ‘She remembers me?’

  ‘No, but she has nothing to do except lie in bed, do her exercises and think. She recalled Megan telling her that she has a two-year-old daughter; we’ve told her it’s 1946 not 1941, she knows Wyn is dead so she asked about the father of her child.’

  ‘You told her we’re married.’

  ‘I told her she was married but I didn’t dare mention your name. Dr John would have banished me from the hospital if I had.’

  ‘She’s going to have to find out sooner or later.’

  ‘The doctors are only thinking of Diana, Ronnie, and it’s the way she finds out that’s concerning them. The safest option would be to wait until she remembers without any prompting.’

  ‘That could take for ever.’

  ‘And it could happen tomorrow. You have to understand that when it comes to the mind, doctors are fumbling in the dark.’

  ‘And while they fumble I live in limbo land with the kids, Megan and Dino.’

  ‘I know it’s difficult …’

  ‘Between you and me, Beth, I’m going round the bend. First they tell me she may never remember, now they won’t tell her who I am. What do they want? To keep her in hospital for the next sixty years!’

  ‘If it’s any consolation I told her that her husband is someone who loves her very much and wants to be with her.’

  ‘And what did she say?’

  ‘She asked why you hadn’t been to see her. Dr John told her they were afraid of what the shock might do to her if you did. I told her you weren’t happy with the situation.’

  ‘That’s the understatement of the century.’ He shook his head as he
went back to the desk. ‘Sometimes I feel like walking up to that damned hospital, battering down the door and demanding they let me see her.’

  ‘Now that Diana’s making good progress with her physical injuries, I’ll have a word with Andrew. Perhaps he can persuade the specialist to fix a date for Diana to leave hospital, if only for a day’s home visit. It’s not much but it’s the best I can do.’

  ‘But would they let her visit Megan’s, knowing I’m there.’

  Bethan hesitated. ‘You wouldn’t do anything stupid?’

  ‘Diana’s my wife, Beth. The person I care most about in the world. She wants to see her husband; I want my wife back.’

  ‘Then perhaps the specialist wouldn’t have to know who exactly is in the house. With the housing shortage, people have all kinds of lodgers these days.’

  ‘I really don’t want to go inside if your mother doesn’t want to meet me,’ Gabrielle demurred as Angelo drew up outside his mother’s house in Danycoedcae Road.

  ‘She’ll be fine once you’re in there, and my sister will be there with her new baby. You met her last night.’

  ‘She didn’t like me either.’

  ‘Only because Tony got you off on the wrong foot.’ He jumped out and walked around to the passenger side. ‘Come on, Gabrielle, my mother would be more upset at the thought of you standing outside in the street for all the neighbours to see than you in her kitchen. God, I hope Luke’s home, I’ll never shift this box by myself,’ he gasped, giving up on trying to lift the wooden crate that held all Gabrielle’s worldly goods. Taking her suitcase, he opened the door. ‘Mama?’

  ‘In the kitchen, Angelo,’ a voice called back.

  ‘Follow me.’ Sensing Gabrielle’s reluctance he led the way down the passage and opened the door. ‘Mama, I’ve brought someone to stay.’ He pushed the door wider. ‘This is Gabrielle von Stettin, Tony’s fiancée.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  As Bethan turned out of the garage she saw the thickset figure of Peter Raschenko swaggering down Broadway, hands pushed deep into the pockets of his short navy workman’s coat, cap pushed to the back of his head, his mop of white-blond hair falling low over his eyes. Even from a distance of fifty yards he exuded a confidence bordering on belligerence. Slowing the car, she pulled up ahead of him and slid back the window on the passenger side.

  ‘If you are going into town, Peter, I can give you a lift,’ she called out.

  ‘I am used to walking.’

  ‘It is absolutely no trouble as I’m going that way. And you can be home that much sooner to tell your mother and father that you have a job.’

  He hesitated, then opened the passenger door and climbed in.

  ‘So, how do you like Pontypridd?’ she asked when he didn’t even murmur a ‘thank you’.

  ‘I will tell you what I told my father last night, Mrs John. I think everyone in Pontypridd asks the same question. And as I haven’t been in the town for a day I am not sure what I think of it.’ He looked out of the window as they drove past a picturesque row of cottages with long narrow front gardens.

  Peter’s reticence reminded Bethan of several silences she had endured with Charlie when she had first met him. She wondered what quality enabled father and son to sit easily and unembarrassed through a lack of conversation when she felt driven to say almost anything to fill the lull. Was it the difference between Welsh and Russian cultures, self-assurance learned during childhood, or simply a personality trait shared by both father and son? But there was one subject that did need broaching.

  ‘You met my foster daughter last night.’

  ‘Liza, and there she is,’ he shouted excitedly, making Bethan turn her head sharply as Liza crossed the road in front of them and walked towards the bus stop under the railway bridge. Turning left, Bethan drew to a halt ahead of the bus queue. Leaning across Peter she opened the window again.

  ‘I thought you were spending the afternoon with Angelo, Liza.’

  ‘There’s been a crisis in the café. Angelo will be busy for the rest of the day so I thought I’d meet the children from school.’

  ‘I’m on my way to the hospital to fetch Andrew. We’ve arranged to meet the children together as we promised Andrew’s parents we’d take them up to the Common for tea. Dr John has just bought a cine-camera and projector. He has a few cartoons but I think his real object is to take some moving pictures of the children. Why don’t you come with us and allow him to film you for posterity?’

  ‘Or you could come with me.’ Peter stepped out of the car and walked towards her. Mindful of his father’s advice, he blurted, ‘I would like to buy you a coffee and talk to you, or take you for a walk in the park, or to the pictures.’

  His words tumbled out so quickly that Bethan had to turn her head to hide a smile that was in serious danger of erupting into laughter.

  ‘What do you think, Auntie Bethan?’ Liza asked. ‘I have nothing else planned and Dr and Mrs John aren’t expecting me, are they?’

  ‘No, we thought you’d be with Angelo but –’

  For the first time Liza didn’t wait for her foster mother to finish a sentence. ‘Then I’d be happy to have a coffee, go for a walk or to the pictures with you, Peter. Or even,’ she smiled, ‘all three.’

  ‘Would you come and meet my mother first? I want to tell her I have a job. A good one that pays more money than my father thinks is a day’s pay.’

  ‘I’m not sure I understood that, but yes, I’d like to meet your mother. You don’t mind, do you, Auntie Beth?’

  Concerned by the thought of Liza spending time with Peter – possibly alone – and irritated because Liza had left her absolutely no room for manoeuvre, discussion or dissuasion, Bethan replied, ‘Your sisters will be disappointed.’

  ‘But they weren’t expecting to see me,’ Liza reminded mildly.

  ‘No – no, I suppose not.’

  ‘I will take good care of her, Mrs John,’

  Peter’s quick assurance only served to worry Bethan even more. ‘You see that you do, Peter. Don’t be late, Liza, and don’t you dare walk up from town by yourself. Telephone and either Andrew or I will come and fetch you.’

  ‘I will walk her home, Mrs John.’

  ‘There’s no need, Peter. We’ll pick her up in the car. I’ll see you later, Liza.’

  ‘It might be a while later if we go to the pictures.’

  Despite her anxiety at the prospect of Liza spending time with Peter, Bethan had to suppress another smile as Peter offered Liza his arm in blatant imitation of a couple at the bus stop. Then she looked at Liza’s face and took a deep, deep breath. No – it couldn’t be – it had to be her imagination. Peter was only sixteen, Liza nineteen, and at that age a three-year gap the wrong way between a girl and boy was enormous. Besides, Liza was going out with Angelo.

  Then she remembered all the questions Liza had raised earlier that morning. Pushing the car into gear she drove on up the hill thinking of Andrew and what he had said about ‘other people’s problems’. She had a feeling she had just witnessed one in the making. An enormous one she sincerely hoped Liza wouldn’t live to regret.

  Mrs Ronconi retreated to the wash house and covered her eyes with her apron. ‘I told Tony I didn’t want Germans in my house and now you bring one in, Angelo. Isn’t it enough that they killed your father, started a war and Gina doesn’t like her, without you bringing her here into my home?’

  ‘Mama, I had no choice. I couldn’t leave her in the café by herself.’

  ‘Tony –’

  ‘Tony has been arrested.’

  She dropped her apron. ‘What has he done now?’ she demanded furiously.

  ‘Punched a man for calling Gabrielle a Nazi.’

  ‘But she is a Nazi.’

  ‘There are no more Nazis, Mama. We won the war and finished them off.’

  ‘She’s a German and Germans are Nazis.’

  ‘She’s a young girl who’s been lied to. Tony told her that he owned a chain of hotels and fi
ne restaurants.’

  ‘So, she was going to marry him for his money. He fooled her! Serves her right, the – the – gold-digger.’

  ‘Mama, she has no one to turn to now Tony is locked up. Can’t you feel even a little bit sorry for her?’

  ‘Why? Because she thought she could make money from our Tony and now she can’t?’

  ‘Because she’s alone in a foreign country with people she knows don’t want or like her, and hate her for being German. And because Tony is in jail and might be there for a long time if the man he thumped doesn’t recover.’

  ‘So, she’s suffering. Good!’

  ‘Mama, please, just come into the kitchen to meet her. Talk to her. I promise you she is just an ordinary girl. Are Roberto and Luke at home?’

  ‘Why?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘Because I need help to carry Gabrielle’s box upstairs.’

  ‘She can’t move in. There is nowhere for her to sleep.’

  ‘She can have my boxroom.’

  ‘And where will you sleep. The street?’

  ‘Either in Roberto’s room, in Alfredo’s bed, or the café. As Alfredo and I are going to have to run the restaurant and café between us until we know what is going to happen to Tony, it will be easier if one of us sleeps in the café to be there for the six o’clock morning opening.’

  ‘You expect me to put the entire house in uproar for a German. You expect me to change the bedclothes on your bed, clean and dust the room, allow her sit with us at table …’

  ‘If anyone’s created uproar, Mama, it’s Tony. Please, try and be nice to Gabrielle. She’s been through a lot the last couple of days.’

  ‘You can be nice to her.’

  ‘As soon as I’ve carried Gabrielle’s box in, I have to find Ronnie and ask him what he wants to do about Tony.’ Giving up on his mother, he returned to the kitchen. He was surprised to see Gabrielle sitting at the table, nursing Gina’s baby while his sister made tea.

  ‘Want a cup?’ Gina asked.

  ‘If it’s quick.’

  ‘It will be. The kettle’s almost boiled. Gabrielle’s a dab hand at calming babies with colic. Mama and I haven’t been able to do a thing with her all day and now look at the little angel, butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.’ Gina glanced fondly over Gabrielle’s shoulder at her daughter swathed in a shawl, eyes open, toothless mouth gaping in a grin.