George listened to her recommendations with growing interest.
‘The trouble is we’ve done things the same way for so long we can’t see how out of date we are. I’m sure you and Frieda will agree on what’s best.’ He laughed and added, ‘She’s not so set in her ways as me.’
‘Countrywide, there’s been an encouraging, although small, growth in the number of people buying their own homes in the past year,’ she said. ‘Soon we’ll be into a new decade. The fifties!’ She pointed to the date on one of the forms they regularly used.
George groaned on seeing the date printed was 1939. ‘I didn’t think anyone would notice, and we ordered so many when we were warned that paper might be scarce during the war, it seemed a pity to waste them,’ he confessed.
Warming to her theme, Meriel went on, ‘The fifties! Imagine that. We’ll be saying goodbye to all the shortages of wartime and look forward to great things. There’s a feeling of excitement in the air, a confidence that the best times are on the way. Perhaps, one day, we’ll see a larger part of the business dealing with house purchase.’
George looked at her, caught up in her excitement, seeing a boom in his business, good profits that enabled him to buy the house near the sea his wife wanted so badly. But when he spoke he said doubtfully, ‘Perhaps you’re right, as long as it doesn’t become “Boom and Bust” as the Americans warn. Anyway, for the moment we’d better get these accounts posted or we’ll never survive to see it!’
The furniture was well used in Badgers Brook. There were very few evenings when no one called. They came with excuses to call at first, telling her of the various activities taking place in the area or bringing something to help feed her endless visitors, but soon gave up the pretence and just walked in and sat around the fire or filled her kitchen making tea, often bringing a tiny share of their food rations to help.
During the first week of December she phoned her parents from the phone box on the lane and insisted they came to Badgers Brook for Christmas instead of her going home.
‘It’s such a magical place, you’ll love it,’ she gushed. ‘And the people are so friendly you won’t want to go back home.‘
So it was decided. The changes she had brought about were making her life just perfect. Spending Christmas in this beautiful house, a promising new job, new friends, and her parents coming to meet them would make it even better. The following morning she finally met George Dexter’s wife, Frieda, and everything fell apart.
*
Frieda Dexter was George’s second wife and fifteen years his junior. Small, pretty in a china doll kind of way, her makeup was carefully applied to be unobtrusive, and her hands wore soft-pink varnish to match exactly the lipstick and the clothes she wore. She had a demure shyness about her that George adored. How lucky he’d been to win her heart.
She didn’t see Meriel at first, as the taxi driver dropped her suitcase on the front step. After she had walked in and held out her arms for George’s hug, smiled shyly at Teifion, she looked up and recognition, already shown by the paralysing horror on Meriel’s face, was repeated on her own. They had met in the lane behind that dilapidated row of large houses several weeks ago. Her clothes and make-up were completely different but there was no mistaking her.
Unaware of the shock on both faces, George introduced them. They didn’t shake hands and almost immediately Frieda left the front office and disappeared into the back room.
Meriel asked for an early lunch and went to sit in the café, drank tea she didn’t want and ate a sandwich she couldn’t taste. What should she do? Pretend they hadn’t met in the lane behind the hotel, a lane a very long way from Brighton? Or carry on as though nothing had happened between them? That would surely be impossible, but the alternative was to leave the job, leave Cwm Derw and forget she had ever seen Badgers Brook.
*
When George went into the back office, Frieda was staring at the books and files, noting the changes Meriel had begun.
‘Why have you allowed her to mess up our system?’ she demanded, her voice still soft and almost pleading. ‘She’s muddled everything so only she knows where to find things. Miss Indispensable, that’s what she wants to be, muddling everything so only she knows where to find things.’
‘I don’t think it’s like that, she’s very experienced and I like some of her ideas.’
‘It’s a clever idea, darling, but not one that gets past me.’ When she looked up, she said slowly and carefully, ‘George, darling, she will have to go.’
‘What? How can you make such a decision? You’ve only just met her.’
‘Her reputation comes before her. I recognized her straight away, which is why she suddenly went out for lunch. She’s the daughter of Walter Evans, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, and that’s part of the appeal, him worrying about what I’ll tell her! She’s worked with her father most of her life and has knowledge we can use. Best of all, Frieda, it will mean we can spend more time together. She’s our ticket to better things, so why don’t you want her here?’
‘Because she’s a devious and troublesome liar.’
‘Come on, she can’t be that terrible. We’re in the same business, I’d have heard and I’ve only been told good things about her. We’re very lucky to have her. You must be mistaken, darling.’
‘Why d’you think her father let her go?’
‘She told me she wanted more experience.’
Frieda shook her pretty head. ‘She was told to leave. She really can’t stay. Trust me on this, George, she will bring us nothing but trouble.’
‘But I can’t tell her to leave without explaining why. What has she done? You have to tell me.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Frieda, tell me.’
‘Please, darling,’ Frieda whispered breathlessly, choking on her sobs. ‘Don’t press me on this.’ Tears threatened and George hugged her and backed off the subject.
Teifion had invited Meriel to go with him to the pictures that evening and after taking her back to Badgers Brook, he went home and walked in on a row between his father and stepmother. After George stormed out of the house, Teifion made Frieda a cup of tea and begged to be told what was going on.
‘It’s that girl. I don’t want her here.’
‘Meriel? But she’s marvellous. She knows the job and is full of new ideas to help our business to grow. I’ve learned so much from her already.’ After some cajoling Frieda agreed to tell him what she knew on condition he told no one.
‘There’s no proof you see, so you can’t repeat it, but she stole from one of her father’s friends, and tried to convince everyone that another member of his family was guilty. There was an uproar but no police were involved. I don’t know all the facts, but they were friends of mine and I do know that her father paid to hush it all up.’
As Frieda knew he would, Teifion immediately told his father, and the following day, two weeks before Christmas, George regretfully told Meriel she wasn’t suitable and gave her two weeks’ money in lieu of notice.
Her first reaction was to get in the car and drive to Barry to tell Leo. When her tears had subsided she made him promise not to tell her parents until she had decided what she would do.
‘I can’t come home, not before I try to find something else,’ she explained. ‘My flight into independence has to last longer than a few weeks.’
‘I’ll say nothing as long as you promise to keep me informed. I need to know you’re all right and not so miserable that rather than come home to us you’ll take on a job where you won’t be happy. I want you to be happy, Meriel.’
She knew he wanted her to admit defeat and return home but she was even more determined as she drove back to the haven of Badgers Brook. It soothed her with its calm, peaceful atmosphere, confidence flowing into her as she felt utterly certain it wanted her to stay.
*
Christmas was no longer the joyous occasion Meriel had hoped for, but her parents still came. Lucy helped her to prep
are for their visit and they managed to buy sufficient food. Peter Bevan, who had once sold vegetables from a horse and cart but now owned a shop in the town, managed to get her a pheasant and a couple of rabbits as well as a share of the available fruit and vegetables.
They planned that their neighbours and friends would gather at Badgers Brook for an evening meal on Boxing Day. Rabbit casserole, roasted pheasant, with oddments of off-ration cheese – begged from Haywards, the grocer – were the main ingredients and when the table was set for ten places, it looked like a feast.
They had invited Betty Connors, the sister of Ed Connors at the B & B. She owned the local pub, the Ship and Compass, and was pleased to have company for a while on her rare day off. They had miscounted and two people had to sit on the hearth and use a stool for a table but the inconvenience simply added to the fun.
Meriel tried not to think about her lack of employment, but simply enjoy the occasion. As he left, Geoff thanked her for her hospitality and said, ‘I think an auctioneer at the other side of town is looking for an assistant. Give him a try.’
As soon as Christmas was over she did, but the man looked at her apologetically and turned her down. It seemed that Frieda had passed on stories of her dishonesty. Because of Frieda’s own misbehaviour and lies, she seemed determined to drive Meriel from the town, knowing she had witnessed something she shouldn’t have seen.
Walter and Lynne were worried about their daughter. They had heard the rumours and tried to deny them, but mud always sticks. They presumed it was George who had started them.
‘Typical of the man, having fun humiliating a capable young woman because of her parents. If she hadn’t been our daughter he wouldn’t have employed her. As it is he did so for the childish pleasure of giving her the sack!’ Lynne sighed. ‘Troubles never really go away, do they? They lie dormant, then hover and reappear just when everything seems perfect.‘
*
So, 1950 will arrive with all its hope and promise and I‘ll be without a job, Meriel thought, and all because I walked around the lane to view that hotel. Why was life so unfair? It would be so easy to give up and go home, but she knew she wouldn’t, she couldn’t. She had made friends here and felt a part of the community, something she hadn’t felt when she had been safe in the cocoon of her sheltered life and her loving parents. There she had continued to live the life of a child, accepting their opinions without question – until recently when restlessness awoke in her. But she had stepped away and with Mr Micawber’s confidence that ‘Something will turn up’, she decided to stay in Cwm Derw and continue to live at Badgers Brook.
Two
New Year, 1950, was a time of celebration. It was the beginning of a new decade and everyone seemed thankful to leave behind the forties, and the long shadows of war, and were looking forward to better times. As New Year was a Sunday, the whole weekend and the days that followed were an excuse for many parties. It was a time to reassure everyone that good times were coming and the painful memories of the many tragedies so many families had suffered were beginning to fade.
The tenants of Badgers Brook were one of the last to invite friends round and call it a New Year party, even though it was a week after the start of the New Year. True to tradition, a few were invited and many turned up. As it was Sunday, even Betty Connors from the Ship and Compass came and she brought her brother, Ed, and his wife, Elsie, who ran the local bed and breakfast establishment. Leo brought his mother and although the intention was to drive home later, they didn’t need much persuasion to stay.
It was after two a.m. before the party ended. Walter and Lynne slept in the spare room while Leo and his mother settled into Meriel’s and Lucy’s rooms, leaving them to sleep downstairs.
Nothing was said about Meriel losing her job and she was thankful that, in the lively crowd, she could avoid conversation easily. She would find a job first, then tell them. She knew that, being so badly hurt by her treatment, she’d have found it difficult to resist their pleading for her to return home.
It was Leo who helped serve breakfast, a sorry meal of stale bread – toasted and spread with a mixture of margarine mixed with the top of the milk, whisked to make an imitation butter. It was helped down with some home-made plum jam brought by Stella, from the post office.
Lucy met a few of Meriel’s friends and the time went very fast. After another huge meal, and having been given packets of food to take with them, they left. Walter and Lynne kissed them both on the cheek, and wished them a ‘Happy New Year’ as they departed.
‘I just know the fifties are going to be great,’ Meriel said.
Lucy enthusiastically agreed. ‘This weekend is the start and it will get better and better, I just know it.’
‘I hate lying to Mam and Dadda,’ Meriel admitted as they drove back to Cwm Derw. ‘But if I tell them I don’t have a job, my not wanting to go back home would be impossible for them to understand. They’d be hurt, wouldn’t they?’
‘I wish I’d made the break during the war. It was easier to explain about leaving home then. I had my chance and I didn’t take it. Most of my friends escaped by joining the forces or the Land Army or the NAAFI. I was too nervous. Then taking the flat with Jennie didn’t work out, and now I feel I’m stuck at home for the rest of my life.’
‘Won’t you marry?’
‘I’m twenty-nine years old, that’s something else I've left a bit late. Jennie and I were having such fun you see. When life is good you don’t look ahead and think of it ending.’
‘As an experienced hair stylist you could move away, get a job somewhere else.’
‘My wages aren’t enough to buy independence.‘
‘Mine would be – if I could find a job! But my experience is not something many people want. I’m a woman doing a man’s job – which makes me unacceptable. Crazy, but there it is. So although I’ve more to offer than many of the men in similar jobs, my knowledge of the work is useless, unless I go back to my father’s business – which incidentally will be mine one day.’
‘Isn’t it a pity we can’t be our own boss,’ Lucy said.
‘It sounds silly, but besides wanting to break away from the security of home, I’d find it hard now to leave Badgers Brook.’
‘There is something special about the place.’
‘It’s soothing and friendly. It’s the strangest thing, it’s the coldest month of the year yet there’s always a welcoming warmth when I walk in. Even though there hasn’t been a fire lit for three days it won’t be cold. Come back and we’ll find something for supper. You’ll see what I mean.’
While Lucy prepared a meal from the package of food Meriel’s mother had given them, Meriel dealt with the fire. It had been laid ready and the first match soon had it roaring up the chimney. They sat and ate cold, roast goose with mashed potatoes and a few leeks and tinned carrots from trays on their laps, the warmth making them sleepy.
‘It’s so good to be home.’ Meriel sighed. ‘I wish Leo were nearer though. He’s so easy to talk to and he always manages to get to the nub of a problem and say all the right things. It helps me to see things more clearly.’
‘I sometimes wish I could see Gerald, although too much time has passed for us to get back together. If we met again I might not feel the same as I once did anyway.’
‘There’s nothing like that about Leo. He’s my father’s friend, and my friend, not a love interest,’ Meriel protested sleepily.
Lucy returned to the hairdresser’s shop on Tuesday morning and Meriel went job hunting with a determination to accept anything that would help pay the rent. She began by considering her options which included using the car. Deliveries were something she might try, but where to start? She parked outside the post office and began calling on shops and businesses. By offering her services to several shops she found sufficient to at least pay the rent and feed herself and her continuing stream of visitors.
Over the next couple of weeks, she delivered groceries, office supplies, the occasiona
l bouquet, even bread when the baker’s boy fell ill. The money slowly filled her purse but she was frustrated at the way her plans had fallen apart. ‘They didn’t fall apart, they were pushed, by stupid Frieda Dexter,’ she grumbled to Lucy one day when they were on their way to the pictures.
‘Talk of the devil,’ Lucy whispered, gesturing to the people ahead of them in the queue. ‘Or his son!’ she added with a giggle. Teifion Dexter was on his own a few yards ahead of them, moving slowly as the patient queue of people shuffled towards the ticket desk. He saw them and managed to sit next to Meriel.
She leaned firmly away from him toward Lucy but he said, ‘Don’t be angry with me, I didn’t want you to leave and I don’t think Dad did either. It was Frieda. She has sudden likes and dislikes and there’s no arguing with her.’
‘It was most unfair and you know it. A few enquiries would I have proved her wrong. My reputation is excellent.’
‘I know.’
‘I didn’t see you supporting me at the time!’
‘Sorry, but it was difficult.’ he said. ‘I couldn’t disagree with my father and my stepmother. Loyalty isn’t compatible with honesty, is it?’ he added sadly.
‘That’s very perspicacious of you,’ she replied.
‘Er, is it?’ he asked, pretending not to understand.
‘He’s such a bore,’ Meriel said as they drove back home. ‘I think he’s been belittled all his life by his father and hasn’t the sense to get away. He still tries desperately to please him. I think he wants a kick up the you-know-what!’
‘Why did you really leave Dexter’s?’ Lucy asked. ‘No one believes the story about you stealing.’ After a brief hesitation, Meriel told her about meeting Mrs Dexter, dressed like a tart, and with a man, outside a seedy hotel when she was supposed to be with her sister in Brighton.
The Heart of the Home Page 3
