‘Well done, Lucy,’ Meriel said, and Leo patted her on the back.
‘I pointed out that this is 1950 not the dark ages and more people are able to afford a car. And with petrol no longer rationed there’ll be a few more.’
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘we obviously aren’t going to be offered a cup of tea by your miserly partner, so let me take you both to the café when we close, it stays open till six o’clock.’
‘We have to get back, Rascal will be needing her walk,’ Meriel said sharply, and Lucy, the peace-maker, insisted he went back with them and shared their meal. Lucy had bought pasties from the baker’s and with a few salad vegetables they made a satisfactory meal. Lucy insisted on dealing with the dishes and suggested Meriel showed Leo how well they were looking after the garden.
It was quite lovely, with so many summer blooms adding chaotic brightness to the borders and the vegetables in their neat rows offering contrasting symmetry and order.
‘It’s mainly Bob Jennings and Colin Jones who keep it looking like this,’ Meriel admitted. ‘Lucy and I do the weeding and some of the digging and trimming but only under their supervision. They love working here and they are all such wonderful friends. I’m so lucky to have found this place.’
‘The superstition is that the place finds you and not the other way around,’ Leo said.
‘Where did you hear that?’
‘Oh, here and there. The locals believe that Badgers Brook is where people come when they’re in trouble. Are you in trouble? Meriel, if you are, then please let me help.’
‘You know the things that are bothering me.’
‘Why you were lied to? You’ll have to work that out for yourself.’
‘Who I really am.’
‘That’s a mystery you can’t solve.’
‘Will you try to help, Leo?’
‘Where do I start?’
She shrugged, but missed the gleam in his eyes. He had decided to repeat the visit that Teifion had made to Mr and Mrs William Roberts-Price. Something must have made him curious, something more than them losing a child. And why had they been so upset? It was a tenuous thread but the only one he had.
He drove to the church beside which was the home of the Roberts-Price family. Surely it couldn’t be this easy?
*
Teifion spent less and less time in his father’s office, making excuses to go out, often not returning until late at night, when he went straight to bed. Seeing Frieda there, showing affection for his father when she had been deceiving him with another man, sickened him. He’d never liked her but hadn’t been prepared for the real dislike she engendered now. Staying in the same house was becoming more and more impossible. When he caught his father’s eye it was George who looked away, embarrassed at his son knowing of Frieda’s double life and his pretending ignorance of it. He had to leave, but to go where, and do what?
Ignoring the food provided by his stepmother, he usually ate out, either in a café or a pub; managing without the traditional meat and two veg didn’t seem like hardship compared with sitting facing Frieda and his father. One summer’s evening he sat in the bar of the Ship and Compass, without a place to call home and wondering what to do about it. He was old enough to leave home; most men of his age were married with homes of their own, families and responsibilities. He justified his lack of these things by reminding himself of the difficulties he had faced. Working for his father had been a tie most people lacked and walking away meant giving up his inheritance, and giving it all to his young stepmother seemed an impossibility. Meriel had been tied to her family by love but in his case it was nearer to hatred.
Betty Connors was busy that evening and the young woman at the bar seemed inexperienced and slow. Tables and areas of the bar were filled with empty glasses and a few plates, there was hardly room to put down a newly drawn pint. Every time Betty began to clear, or asked the young girl to do so, a few more people came in and they had to serve. Without realizing how uncharacteristic of him it was, Teifion began collecting the glasses and putting trays of them on the bar.
‘Thanks, Teifion,’ Betty said. She leaned towards him and added, ‘Daft girl this one. I have to tell her every little thing. You wouldn’t watch the bar a moment, would you, while I go down and change the barrel? Ed was supposed to come and do it but he hasn’t turned up. Elsie must be unwell, he can’t come if she needs him.’
‘Of course, but, better still, tell me what to do and I’ll do it for you.’
‘Best I do it this time, most flood the cellar the first time they try. But come and watch by all means.’ She called to where Colin Jones was sitting and asked him to ‘mind the shop’ and led Teifion into the cellar. ‘It’s always useful to have a few people around who can change a barrel and who know where to find the drinks and cigarettes.’
He was surprised at the size of the cellar and its cleanliness. ‘I’d always imagined cellars to be cobwebby places with murky corners and creepy echoes.’
‘You’re thinking of coal cellars, like most people. This is inspected regularly and no cobwebs are allowed, I promise you. Walls whitewashed regular and floor scrubbed every day. Very fussy about such things we have to be.’
‘There’s more to a pub than serving pints,’ he said, watching as she carefully changed the tap on the barrel to the new one, wiping up the few drops of spillage.
She pointed out where the various drinks were stored and he asked a lot of questions. Foolishly he began to imagine himself working in such a place. As he sat finishing his drink he thought about Lucy’s words. Working in a pub often meant accommodation as well. Less pay of course and fewer comforts than he was used to, the accommodation wouldn’t be as grand as in his father’s house but the idea was growing. It was one way by which he could leave home without too many problems. A pub would solve most of them immediately: food, a room and a job.
He wondered where he would apply for such work, and whether he would need to go away somewhere for training or would learn on the job. Was there a magazine advertising such vacancies? Or would Betty Connors know? He amused himself imagining working at the Ship and Compass. If he could face living in the same house as his stepmother for all this time, living in the same town wasn’t impossible. His father rarely drank at the Ship and if he did, well it would be fun to serve him, take his money, offer him his change. With a smile he wondered whether his father would give him a tip and how generous it would be. No, somewhere further away where no one knew him, a fresh start, that was what he needed, but the idea of working in a bar still appealed.
With no experience there was doubt whether he would find a job but tomorrow he would try. Even offer to work a month without pay. When the bar closed he helped take the remaining glasses to the bar for washing and helped wipe the tables. Then he talked to Betty, explaining his desire to try something completely new.
‘The work is heavy, the hours long and inconvenient if you want any sort of social life,’ she warned.
‘I have a feeling I’ll accept the inconveniences. Give me a month’s trial and I’ll prove to you how capable I can be.’ A little more persuasion on his part and she agreed to give him a month’s trial. As he walked home and let himself into the silent house he promised himself that tomorrow Lucy would be the first person he would tell. That thought quickened his heart. Like a child at Christmas, he wanted to go to bed immediately to make tomorrow come more quickly.
*
William Roberts-Price saw the young man coming towards the door, recognized him from Evans and Calloway, and hurried out through the back and into the lane. He almost ran up the hill towards the bus stop, where he caught a bus for the centre of town. His daughter worked in Woolworth’s and he would make an excuse to call on her. The book shop he ran closed all day on Wednesdays and that was the day on which he did gardening for the vicar and a few other elderly householders. Today he had finished gardening early having promised the vicar he would whitewash the porch walls, but now it would have to wait.
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br /> Behind him, Leo knocked at the door and after a few minutes turned away disappointed. He had prepared a list of questions referring to the way the sale of the house had been handled, explaining they wanted to make sure their clients were satisfied with the service. He decided to call at a time when someone was more likely to be in.
He had said nothing of his intention to Meriel. Better for her not to know, as it was certain to end in another disappointment. He was closing the gate when he saw a woman approaching. She had auburn hair in an untidy bun and wore a grubby cross-over apron, long skirt and stout shoes. She carried a wooden basket in which he saw polishes and dusters and small brushes, and all this, plus the direction from which she approached, suggested she had been cleaning the church.
‘Looking for me, are you?’ she asked.
‘Sorry to bother you. I’m from the estate agency. Evans and Calloway, just a check up to make sure you and your husband were satisfied with the way your house sale was managed.’
‘Everything went smoothly, thank you, we have no complaints.’ She stretched up on tiptoe to see as he wrote something unimportant and illegible on his notepad. ‘I can’t ask you in,’ she said. ‘I have to get food before we go to the evening service, you see.’ She glanced towards the door and he was jolted by a sudden recognition. There had been something in that fleeting glance that reminded him of someone and he wondered if they had previously met.
Pulling himself together he said. ‘No need, Mrs Roberts-Price. If you have no complaints I’ll be on my way.’ Although he thought about it all the way back home, and through the meal he shared with his mother, he couldn’t put a name or an occasion to the face of Mrs Roberts-Price.
Making contact was all he had intended for a first visit. On another occasion he might start a conversation and slowly build up a casual friendship. Then as strangers often do, they would exchange questions and perhaps she would open up about the lost child. The plan didn’t fill him with much hope but at least he was doing something to help Meriel out of her confusion and unhappiness.
*
George knew his wife was still seeing the man he had seen at the neglected hotel. She had made all the usual promises, displayed regret, shame, remorse and guilt in huge proportions but her shopping trips, from which she returned sparkling and excited, made him doubt her honesty. Now he knew of her unfaithfulness it was hard to ignore the worm of suspicion in his heart. The look of disapproval on Teifion’s face was hard to take and he knew he had to sort his life out or he’d end up having no one. So one day he decided to follow her.
Teifion had an appointment the same day. Between the pub closing after lunchtime and opening for the evening session, Betty had invited him to call and have a cup of tea and discuss his idea of working in the licence trade. A month’s trial was what she had agreed but she needed to know whether he was serious enough to justify so much of her time or if it was to be a temporary job, just until he and his father had sorted out their difficulties.
He said nothing to his father when George told him he would be out for most of the afternoon. He would simply close the door and leave a note explaining to prospective clients that he’d be back in an hour. In fact he was away for more than two.
He was surprised at how interested he became once Betty began talking about the Ship and Compass. From the way she talked about the customers he began to think of the place as the very heart of the streets it served.
‘Like the kitchen is the heart of the home, the pub is the heart of the community,’ she explained. ‘All life is represented here, it’s where news, both good and bad, is aired, and opinions argued out, problems solved and decisions made.’ She smiled and added, ‘I don’t think the vicar would agree with me, mind! But although the church has its role, and it’s an important one, there are aspects of life that can only be dealt with at the pub.’
While Betty made tea Teifion thought of the many times he had come to the Ship when he was happy, and when there had been a need to drown his sorrows. It was here he had come when his mother had died and when his father had remarried. It was here he had come to boast about girlfriends, and for sympathy when they had parted.
‘Mrs Connors, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life,’ he said, jumping up and helping her with the tray of tea.
*
George kissed Frieda goodbye and gave her some extra money for her shopping trip to Cardiff the same as he always did. From the car he saw her head for the bus stop then drove to Cardiff as fast as he dared. Parking the car he followed her on foot from the bus. She went first to the Louis restaurant on St Mary’s Street and sat at a table. The room was long and narrow and unless she was facing away from the door he would find it impossible to go inside without being seen.
He decided to risk it and go in. Better to allow her to see him before she met anyone, that would be the best. No explanations would be necessary. It would be nothing more than coincidence. She had made him promise that if they tried again he would trust her and never look for evidence of her deceit. She told him she couldn’t live with mistrust and if he couldn’t forget and make a genuine fresh start, it was better she left. He had made that promise and had meant it, but now, a few weeks later it was impossible to keep. Her many unexplained absences caused him fears and doubts and kept him awake and if she were cheating he had to know.
He took a deep breath and opened the restaurant door to the hum of a dozen conversations; a few people lifted their heads to look. He walked a few paces and saw her sitting at a table for two, her slim body in a smart red dress – which he hadn’t seen before – her blonde hair flowing in waves around her shoulders, not in its usual neat style, and he felt sickened. It was a clear signal that she was playing a different role from the one she acted out for him.
She faced away from him and didn’t turn to look at who had entered. He stood, frozen into the moment. He didn’t know what to do. He either had to show himself now, or walk away. If she was meeting someone quite innocently for a girls’ shopping spree and saw him following, any trust would be gone. He knew it would be harder to mend their difficulties a second time and this time he would carry the guilt.
As he began to back out, the door opened and a man entered. He walked confidently to the table where Frieda sat and gasped in mock surprise. ‘Fancy meeting you,’ the man said loudly. ‘How are you? Waiting for someone?’ Frieda said something George couldn’t catch and the man laughed and sat down taking both of her hands in his. It was the same man she had met before, whom she had promised never to see again. Blinded by misery, George stumbled out into the fresh air.
He was shaking as though with a fever and he went into Bwyty Hayes Island open-air snack bar and asked for a cup of coffee. Later he didn’t remember drinking it or paying for it but presumed he had done both. Still shaking, his heart racing wildly, he walked back to where he had left the car.
He sat there for a long time, knowing he wasn’t capable of driving back to Cwm Derw. The crowds around him began to diminish as shops began to close. The queues at the bus stops lengthened with women carrying shopping bags and girls chattering about their plans for the evening. Buses came and went and the queues filled the pavements with tightly packed and impatient passengers, all wanting to be taken home, then the numbers gradually reduced until the place was deserted.
George glanced around him. He ought to leave, calm himself and drive back and be there before Frieda. He forced himself to think about the office. Concentration was difficult but he wondered if Teifion had remembered to phone the council about the query a client had regarding trees near the house he was buying.
Irritation, both unreasonable and fierce, overcame him as he thought of Teifion. The anger he couldn’t show Frieda exploded at his disappointment in his son. He isn’t interested in the business, he thought, he’s far too lazy. His annoyance at his son allowed him to forget the real reason for his unhappiness; blaming Teifion for his bad mood, he found he was able to face driving home.
He parked the car and walked into the house. Teifion was waiting for him in a hall.
‘Frieda not back yet?’
‘Dad, I want to leave the business. I’ve got a job with Betty Connors at the Ship and Compass and I’m starting straight away.’
George stared at him then his face seemed to twist, making him unrecognizable. He tried to say something that came out as a guttural moan and, in front of a startled Teifion, he fell.
Teifion knelt on the floor beside him and begged him to be all right, he said stupid things and asked stupid questions for brief moments then got up and reached for the phone, thankful they were one of the few who had one in the house. Unable to decide what to do, continuing to talk to his father reassuringly, he rang the doctor and explained what had happened. By the time Frieda arrived, soberly dressed, her hair tied back in a neat bun and carrying several shopping bags, the doctor had arrived and George was being carried into the waiting ambulance, already recovering.
Frieda wailed, insisting she was unable to go with him as hospitals terrified her. After giving her a look of real contempt, Teifion went with his father, who was by this time awake and asking for his wife.
‘She’s staying at home, Dad. I think it’s best not to upset her, you know how nervous she is.’
‘Not nervous. Loves danger. Excitement,’ was George’s odd response.
Teifion didn’t wonder what he meant, if he’d even heard the words. He was concentrating on his father’s white face and wide staring eyes, convinced he was responsible.
The Heart of the Home Page 16
