Friends and Secrets

by Grace Thompson

  Thanking him, she found John and explained. He waved a “thank you” to Dai, promising to ‘give him a bell’, and turned back to his friends. It was only ten o’clock but her feet felt as though they were welded into her shoes. Her strongest need was to get home and kick them off. She had difficulty walking to Dai Collin’s car. She didn’t invite him in for coffee and he didn’t seem to expect it. Unlocking the door, she kicked her shoes off and stood in utter bliss on the cold floor tiles in the porch, allowing her coat and handbag to fall beside her.

  * * *

  Cynthia told her husband that she had lent Joanne a dress and offered her the use of the chalet in Tenby.

  ‘I didn’t think you were that close?’ he frowned.

  'I’m not. Not really, but I have a feeling that things are not well with John’s business and she is short of cash. She actually admitted it today and was relieved. Keeping it to herself was destroying her.’

  Christian looked at his wife’s face, seeing an expression he knew well. ‘There’s something else?‘ he coaxed.

  ‘Darling, I’m almost certain she has been stealing from me.’

  ‘And you want to help her?’

  ‘I can’t prove it, but three times I’ve lost some money and on each occasion she was the only one who could have taken it.’

  ‘So why help? I’d have thought it better to avoid the woman after giving a hint that you know what she’s been doing.’

  ‘She’s trying so hard to cover up her difficulties. She’s talked about her cleaning lady, and I guessed she was imaginary weeks ago. And then there was the holiday that they cancelled. It had never been booked. Clothes that appear but aren’t new. Once I became suspicious, other things fitted too. I don’t know why, but I had to offer help. If she tried stealing from someone else, or from a shop, can you imagine what the shame of it would do to her?’

  ‘She isn’t your responsibility, Cyn.’

  ‘I know, but she is a friend, of sorts. And we had help when things were desperate. Ken’s mother saved us from a life of utter misery. Poor dear lady. If I’ve made Joanne admit to being short of money it was worth letting her use a dress and the chalet, don’t you think?’

  ‘I’ll ask around, see if I can find out if John is in difficulties or overreaching himself, or just being mean with his family.’

  ‘Thank you, I would like to know.’

  ‘Don’t get involved in family arguments, mind. If you get between man and wife, you always end up as the villain!’

  ‘Thank you, darling.’ She paused. ‘There’s been no more talk about subsidence?’

  ‘No, but two of the houses are up for sale, dammit. To be honest, Ken and I are a bit worried about these stories. This contract we’re trying for, which would give the workforce security for two years, maybe more, is needed badly. If someone has started the rumour to make sure I lose it, I’ll find out who if it’s the last thing I do.’

  ‘Do you know who else is tendering?’

  ‘Ken’s trying to find out. There aren’t that many firms big enough to cope with it. He’s going to see someone this evening, trying to get some information.’

  * * *

  Ken left the pub where he had been playing in a darts match and walked towards home. He hadn’t brought his car having decided he would enjoy a few drinks. It was late and the roads were quiet. When he reached the corner of his street he was surprised to see lights on in the house. His mother was usually in bed by this time. He groaned. One of the neighbours must have called for what he called tea and sympathy. His Mam was good at that.

  Without expecting anything more, he stepped through the door and called to his mother.

  ‘There you are at last. Come in Ken, there’s some friends waiting to see you.’

  He went in to see the two men who were theatening him, and his Mam making them tea! The scene was so incongruous he laughed. His luck just never seemed to change, just like when that lad at work never placed that winning bet for him. You have to laugh, or else you’d cry.

  ‘Time you came to a decision, Ken, old lad,’ one of them said.

  ‘Yes, time you sorted it all out,’ the other replied. There was a serious threat implied as they smiled and looked from Ken to his mother and back again.

  * * *

  Meriel and Cath attended several Collector’s Fairs and Antique Fairs during the early months of the year and towards the end of April, they booked a table and prepared to sell some of their stock. They had taken tables at some of the smaller events, getting rid of unwanted items and to practise their selling skills, but this was a big one.

  ‘Even if we lose money, we have to start somewhere,’ Meriel said as Cath showed nervousness at the expenses they had incurred. ‘This is a practice run and whatever trade you are in, you have to pay for experience.’

  Although not officially antiques, Meriel took some of her fiflies pieces and to her surprise, had sold most of them before lunch on the first day.

  They took turns to go to the cafe and when Cath was due back after lunch, Meriel saw her standing at a stall selling children’s toys. She saw her pick up a teddy bear and then watch a toy train that whistled and sent smoke through its funnel. There were several dolls, many of which were not intended to be played with by small hands. Cath ignored these and handled the soft, cuddly ones, a faraway look in her dark eyes. Meriel turned away, not wanting Cath to know she had seen her.

  Had she lost children of her own? Or been close to children who had moved away? Or perhaps she was unable to have them. Something important had happened to make Cath such a sad person and whatever it had been, children were central to it, that much was certain. Perhaps, she thought again, with less hope, she still might trust me enough to tell me one day.

  They were getting very tired by four o’clock on that first day, the preparations and the worries about whether they should be doing it had kept them both awake and besides, the actual setting up of the stall, carrying their goods from the van they had borrowed had been physically exhausting.

  ‘Will I be glad to get home and flop into a bath and dressing-gown!’ Meriel said. A woman was looking at a cup and saucer in the black and white Home-makers china, black sketches depicting all the things needed for the home, like vacuum cleaner, tables, lamps etc. Smiling as she wrapped it while Cath took the money, she was startled when Cath suddenly said, ‘Look, isn’t that Toby?’

  A girl no older than fourteen was strolling through the aisles, looking at one or two items, and vaguely keeping an eye on the youngster who constantly wandered off.

  Cath handed the change to Meriel to finish serving and watched the child. The girl was making an offer for a heavy glass milk jug and after looking around and not seeing the child, Cath heard her say, ‘Can you hurry please? The little boy I’m looking after has wandered off again. Little devil he is, mind.’

  Cath ran to where Toby was half hidden between the toy stall and a large chest of drawers from the next display and took his hand. She waited until the girl completed her transaction and began looking for him.

  ‘Are you supposed to be looking after this child?’ she demanded angrily.

  ‘Oh, thanks, I wondered where he’d got to,’ the girl smiled, apparently unaware of Cath’s anger.

  ‘Who are you? What are you doing with Toby?’

  ‘My auntie usually looks after him but she had to go to town so she asked me to. What business is it of yours?’ The girl at last awoke to the realization that Cath was not pleased.

  ‘Your aunt is—?’

  ‘Millie Rees, she works for Mrs Sewell, if it’s any of your business! Any other questions, or can I go?’ She stared at Cath her head tilted, one hip forward as though preparing for a row.

  ‘Just make sure he’s safe. Don’t let him wander around in this crowd. He’d be frightened if he got lost.’

  ‘I am looking after him, not that it’s any business of yours!’ She turned to Toby who was looking from one to the other with great interest. ‘Come on
Toby, love, let’s get you that burger I promised you.’ With a glare of disapproval she pulled Toby through the dwindling crowd towards the exit.

  ‘Vivienne is so careless with her baby.’ Cath said sadly when she returned to the stall. ‘If I had a child I’d never let him go off with anyone who’ll have him, like she does, would you?’

  ‘I can’t imagine doing so, no. But I don’t have this craving for crowds and dances and music that Vivienne does.’

  * * *

  John told Joanne that he wanted her to organize a dinner party for the week following the wedding of Dolly and Carl. ‘Eight people and here’s twenty pounds to get the extra food,’ he said, handing her the notes.

  She was tempted to refuse, but didn’t want any more confrontations. Things had not yet settled since the wedding. so she simply nodded agreement.

  Jeremy and Justin were to spend the evening and night with Cynthia, as John had insisted it was a very important occasion. Even with John hardly being civil to her, she was looking forward to demonstrating her skills and the prospect of some small talk while the men talked business.

  The first guest to arrive was Dai Collins and for a moment she failed to recognize him.

  ‘That isn’t very flattering!’ he teased as she took his coat and hung it in the cloakroom. ‘I’d have known you from miles away, even though you’re smaller than I remembered, now you’ve taken off those ridiculous heels.’

  ‘They’re in the rubbish bin,’ she confided.

  ‘Joanne, your guests need you.’ John called, and she hurried forward to greet Carl and three other men she did not recognize.

  ‘Where’s Dolly?’ she asked, looking through the door expecting to see her.

  ‘Men only tonight,’ John said, and her spirits fell. So this wasn’t going to be a social occasion. She was to act as hostess through the meal then disappear.

  It was as she was in the kitchen preparing the tray of coffee that Dai found her.

  He had ‘accidentally’ spilt cream on his coat sleeve and made the excuse of finding a cloth to clean it.

  ‘Will you come and see my latest acquisition?’ he asked her, handing her a small card. ‘Bring a friend and the typical Welsh tea is on me. Wednesday?’

  She thanked him, hardly taking in the address of the cafe advertised on the card. The way she felt at the moment she’d have accepted an invitation to fly to the north pole!

  It was Cynthia she invited to go with her to the Gingham Cafe the following week and Dai was there, looking very different wearing, instead of a smart suit, a white apron and a gingham hat. The tables were immaculate with white cloths covered with a square of gingham. There were fresh flowers on every table. Gingham framed studies of Victorian children covered the walls and dried flower arrangements filled the corners. No harsh lights but far from gloomy, the place offered a quiet peace that fell over them like a mantle.

  They were greeted like VIPs and offered a generous choice. Sandwiches (various), toast or scones with jams (various), cakes (various) and a large china pot of tea. The cups and saucers were delicate floral china matching the teapot. They settled for what Dai called Lady’s Selection and it came on a huge oval tray, the contents of which filled the table.

  As they left, thanking Dai and promising to recommend the place to friends, he took Joanne on one side and whispered, ‘If you ever need a friend, I’ll be here. Please remember that, will you?’

  ‘What can he mean?’ Joanne asked, repeating his words as they walked towards the car.

  ‘Nothing,’ Cynthia reassured her. ‘He was just trying to be friendly. Probably fancies you. What’s the matter, is that so unlikely?’ she demanded as Joanne laughingly protested.

  ‘Fancies me!’ Joanne smiled. ‘As if he would.’

  Cynthia was thoughtful as they got into the car to drive home. Something Christian had told her made her think that the concern Dai had shown was not misplaced.

  Nine

  Joanne was surprised when John asked her to arrange a luncheon party only a few days after the dinner. She didn’t like lunches, the evening felt like an anticlimax. Whereas with a dinner party, the evening was filled and drifted quietly towards bedtime with a glowing feeling of success and the warmth of congratulations surrounding her.

  She arranged it for the following Wednesday and asked for a list of guests. If it were to be a business lunch, she would like to know in advance and not be disappointed at the insignificance of her role. She was pleased to learn that this time there would be some women and surprised to hear that two of the guests would be Meriel’s ex-husband Evan and his partner, Sophie Hopkins.

  How would she cope with being polite to Sophie Hopkins, a woman who had split up Meriel and Evan? Being formally polite would give her the opportunity to be quite cutting without actually being rude, she decided.

  ‘What is their connection with you?’ she asked John as she wrote down the names. ‘I didn’t think you had business connections with Evan?’

  ‘I have decided to furnish one of the cafes in cane furniture as an experiment. A sort of sixties revival, with a chrome and glass counter, lots of bright red fittings, and coffee machine and a balcony, and palms in pot. Plastic of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ Joanne groaned inwardly at the prospect, remembering the tasteful ambience of Dai’s Gingham cafe.

  ‘Evan is going to quote me for chairs and tables, cane bases and cheerful plastic tops and seats.’

  ‘Lovely,’ Joanne breathed, hiding a shudder.

  ‘He’s promised a friend’s discount. The hand of friendship is a powerful one. We never know when we might need it ourselves.’

  ‘Hand of friendship? Evan? You hardly know him.’

  ‘If I get a better deal by giving the illusion that we’re friends, then we’ve been buddies for years! Glad of the pretence he is. Not many around here have much sympathy for him and Sophie.’

  ‘I don’t for one,’ Joanne said sharply. ‘Meriel didn’t deserve what he did to her.’

  ‘Then you should. Falling in love can happen to the most unexpected of us.’

  Joanne remembered Dai Collins and his gentle, warm smile and said no more.

  As she was uncertain how long the luncheon would last, she arranged for the boys to go to Cynthia’s after school from where she would collect them.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Cynthia assured her. ‘Millie will be here if I’m not and she’ll get them something to eat.’

  ‘The gannets that they are, they’re looking forward to clearing what’s left of the luncheon,’ Joanne laughed, ‘But thank you. You are very kind.’

  Sophie and Evan were the first to arrive and, removing her coat to reveal a very short black skirt and red, low-necked blouse, Sophie looked around the room with interest.

  ‘Very nice,’ she said finally. ‘I thought you’d live in an old— fashioned place. Dark furniture, good-but—boring ornaments and heavy curtains. Funny isn’t it, how wrong you can be about people?’

  ‘So glad you approve,’ Joanne breathed politely.

  Dolly and Carl Davies were among the guests and several other couples whom Joanne had met only briefly at the wedding.

  Sophie’s voice was the one most heard throughout the meal and instead of being irritated, the others seemed to enjoy her sometimes silly remarks and her almost boastful displays of ignorance. Whatever the subject, she had some input and if it was obvious she didn’t know what she was talking about, the laughter was instant and far from unkind. She saw Carl staring at the young woman with an interest that was clearly upsetting the obviously pregnant Dolly.

  Joanne was thankful when the party broke up at three. At least her compliance with John’s wishes had meant Jeremy had gone on his school trip without further argument. Leaving the dishes to be dealt with later, she walked over to Cynthia’s about an hour later, to give Fifi some exercise and to collect the boys.

  Christian answered her knock and said at once, ‘They aren’t here.’

  At once Joa
nne began to panic. ‘Not here? But——’

  ‘They’re out on the cliffs playing hide and seek. Come on,’ he laughed, ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’ll come with you and find them, shall I?’

  They let Fifi off the lead and she led them across the field, along narrow paths through the tufted grasses and wild flowers. Voices guided them to the cliff path, and below it, they saw Justin and Marcus squeezing out of a fissure in the rocks on the beach below.

  ‘Call the others, will you, Marcus?’ Christian shouted. ‘Time for Jeremy and Justin to go home.’

  They watched as the two boys climbed back up the cliff as nimble as goats.

  ‘We don’t know where the others are,’ Marcus said. ‘We all went to hide ages ago but they haven’t come to find us, even though we called and whistled.’

  ‘Determined to hide until the very end,’ Christian laughed. ‘Let’s see if I can find them.’

  Leaving Joanne to walk back to the house with Justin and Marcus, he set off across the rough ground, stopping to listen occasionally. He hoped to creep up on them and frighten them, so he didn’t call. In fact he almost fell on top of two of them. His son, Rupert, was in a freshly formed hollow, the grass at the bottom surrounded with an almost complete circle of reddish earth as though formed by a tunnel entrance collapsing below the surface. Almost beneath his son, eyes closed and deeply lost in a kiss, was Henrietta, Helen’s young daughter.

  For a moment, Christian said nothing, there was something quite beautiful about the scene, then he heard the swish of grass and looked behind him to see Joanne approaching.

  ‘Time to come back down to earth I think,’ he said softly and like clockwork dolls, with stiff jerking movements the two separated and sat up. Christian walked away with a chuckle, and led Joanne back towards the house. ‘I’ve found Rupert and he can find the others. Come on, I think we might persuade Millie to make us a cup of tea.’

  That evening, when his sons were in bed, he spoke to Rupert about Henrietta. ‘Be careful, young man. She’s only fifteen, and you could find yourself in a situation you can’t handle.’