by Rosie Harris
Several times she thought of searching him out and saying she’d changed her mind but the thought of spending a whole evening in his company was so irresistible that she knew that she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
I’ll go, just this once, she told herself. I might find that he doesn’t ask me again so that will be the end of it and there will never be another time.
In her heart she prayed this wouldn’t be the case. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than for Gwyn to be her steady boyfriend. She knew he was popular with a number of the girls, not only because he was so good-looking but also because he was such good company.
The fact that he had singled her out for special attention must mean that he was attracted to her and that he wanted to know her better. Unless, of course, she reminded herself, it was simply a matter of making a new conquest. Would it be just one date and then she’d never see anything of him again except by chance when he had another girl on his arm?
She wished Rita was still as close a friend as she’d once been so that she could talk it over with her. Rita had been going out with boys since she was about fourteen and knew so much more of what to do and say to hold their attention. In addition, she not only claimed that she knew how to spot a flirt but also insisted that she knew the right way to deal with that sort of boy.
For all Sarah knew she might be risking heart-break by going out with Gwyn. She knew she was very attracted to him but did he feel the same way about her?
Although she was debating whether or not to go, Sarah knew in her heart that she had every intention of doing so. How could she turn him down when something that she’d dreamed about for so long was actually about to happen?
She was already planning in her mind’s eye which dress she would wear the next day and wondering if either her father or mother would notice. If they did, then how on earth was she going to explain why she had decided to get all dressed up when she was supposed to be attending lectures?
Again, her mind filled with doubts as to whether it was worth all the palaver and intrigue that seemed to be necessary. Perhaps she should tell her parents the truth.
Even as the thought crossed her mind she knew she couldn’t. Both of them would say the same thing: that boyfriends were out of the question, that they would distract her from her purpose.
She’d be told very firmly that she must forget all about friendships of that sort until she had achieved a good degree and was holding down a responsible job. Until then, she must keep her mind fixed firmly on her studies and nothing else.
Chapter Four
To Sarah’s delight far from it being the first and only date with Gwyn Roberts, their visit to the pictures resulted in an ongoing friendship that sometimes left her feeling mesmerised by its intensity and confused about his intentions.
She knew so little about what was expected of her. In the darkness of the cinema she was quite prepared to kiss and cuddle because that was so exciting. When his hands began roaming too intimately, however, and her senses started to spin out of control, then she became scared and started pushing him away.
He seemed to understand her reluctance but more often than not found it difficult to control his desire and enthusiasm and that left her feeling more bewitched than ever.
In next to no time it was as if her life centred on being with him. When they weren’t together the memory of being in his arms, feeling his lips claiming hers, obscured everything else.
The serious drawback was that although she delighted in their wonderful friendship it took up such a great chunk of her time and filled her thoughts so much that she found focussing on her course work increasingly difficult.
Gwyn didn’t seem to have the same problem; when they met for coffee or for a meal he talked enthusiastically about what he’d been doing as if it was the main interest in his life.
To her surprise and relief, Gwyn insisted on paying whether they were eating out, going to the pictures or going dancing but, nevertheless, she felt so concerned, wondering how on earth he could afford to continue doing so, that in the end she mentioned it.
‘Don’t worry about it, cariad; when I’m broke then I’ll ask you for a sub, or else I’ll get you to go round with my cap while I sing in the streets,’ he joked.
‘That’s not an answer,’ she said stiffly. ‘I really am worried, Gwyn. It seems so unfair that you are always the one to foot the bill, but I must admit I wouldn’t be able to afford to come out with you so often if I had to pay my way each time.’
‘There you are then, my lovely! Stop worrying about it. I’ve got plenty to spend,’ he added, jingling the coins in his trouser pocket as if to prove his point.
‘I don’t see how you can have,’ Sarah persisted. ‘Your dad is only a working man the same as mine so he can’t give you very much more spending money than mine does, and I find it goes nowhere.’
‘I don’t have to buy powder and paint and silk stockings to make myself look beautiful, though,’ he teased, putting an arm round her waist and burying his face in her hair.
‘Seriously, cariad,’ he went on when she stiffened and pulled away from him, ‘I have plenty to spend. My brothers are working and getting a man’s pay so they make me a regular allowance. Our mam used to give them pocket money before they left school and so now they say it’s only right that they should give me pocket money, seeing as how I’m still at school.’
Sarah stared at him with raised eyebrows. ‘Are you telling me the truth?’
‘Of course I am, cariad. What with the pocket money from them and what my mam gives me, I’m rolling in it,’ he boasted. ‘I sometimes think I’d be just as well off if I stayed a student all my life as long as they kept up the pocket money.’
‘I bet they don’t know that you spend it taking a girl out, though?’ Sarah pointed out.
‘Why not? It’s probably what they did when they were my age. Anyway, cariad, if they met you, then they’d not only understand but would also be green with envy.’
Although Gwyn treated it all very light-heartedly, there were times when Sarah felt very guilty about all the deception. It worried her so much that in the end she decided that it might be better to be open about it.
‘Would you like to come home and meet my parents?’ she suggested on Friday evening as they left the pictures.
‘Do you mean now?’ he asked in surprise. ‘Do you think it would be a good idea at this time of night?’
‘I didn’t mean right now,’ she said quickly. ‘What about on Sunday? Would you like to come to tea on Sunday afternoon?’
‘Well, since the forecast says that this weather is set for the next few days, then it is certainly too wet to sit around in the park, so it might be a better alternative,’ he commented as he shivered and pulled his coat collar higher to keep out the driving rain.
‘Right, well, I’ll tell my mam that I’m inviting you and she can break it gently to my father.’
‘You make it sound as though that is going to be a major problem.’ Gwyn frowned.
‘Not exactly a problem,’ Sarah said hastily, ‘but I did tell you that my dad is very strict. If he thought that because I was seeing you I was missing any lectures, or not studying as much as I should be, then he’d be very angry.
‘Then perhaps it would be better if you didn’t take me back to your home. What he doesn’t know he can’t worry about.’
‘That’s true enough, but if he found out in some other way, perhaps by someone saying they’d seen me at the pictures, then he’d accuse me of going behind his back and I’d be in even deeper trouble. That’s why I think it is better to be open with him.’
‘If you take me home then won’t he want to know how we come to know each other so well? Won’t he suspect that some of these late evening lectures that you’re supposed to be attending might be nights out enjoying yourself?’
They talked about it so much that Sarah felt that it was driving a wedge between them and she wished she’d never thought of
the idea, or else that she hadn’t told Gwyn what a martinet her dad could be.
‘Are you definitely coming on Sunday?’ she asked tentatively as they walked home from the pictures on Friday night. ‘I need to know so that I can tell my mam and dad.’
‘Of course I am. If only because it means that in future I can walk you right to your door instead of having to say goodbye on the corner of the street,’ he murmured as he stopped and pulled her into the shelter of a shop doorway and took her in his arms.
As she gave herself up to his passionate embrace Sarah once again felt apprehensive about Sunday but she decided not to voice her thoughts aloud.
On Sunday, Sarah felt so nervous that she couldn’t sit still for a moment. Even in chapel she found herself flicking through the pages of her hymn book instead of listening to the service, and when her mother gave her a light nudge with her elbow followed by a warning frown she almost jumped out of her skin.
Back at home she gladly would have foregone their midday meal of cold meat and pickles. It was never her favourite meal but was one which had to be endured because her father would not allow them to do any cooking on a Sunday.
They’d even had to make the Bara Brith – the bread speckled with spices and dried fruit that was one of her mother’s specialities – the day before. She would have liked them to have offered Gwyn some bakestones, but she knew it was out of the question because to be at their best they needed to be served freshly made the minute they came off the griddle and even using that on a Sunday was frowned on by her father.
As soon as they’d eaten their midday meal and she’d helped her mother to clear away and wash up, she excused herself saying she was going to her bedroom to study.
‘Why can’t you do it here on the dining table like you usually do?’ her father questioned.
‘It’s something I need to learn by saying it out aloud over and over again and I don’t want to disturb you,’ she told him.
‘Then bring it down here and I will hear you say it,’ he ordered.
‘I will when I’ve learned it,’ she murmured evasively.
Upstairs in her bedroom she spent the next hour preparing for Gwyn’s visit. She changed her dress twice and each time she messed up her hair so much that she had to do it all over again. She wanted to look her best when he arrived but she had to be careful not to overdo things so she used only a trace of lipstick in case her father commented on it unfavourably.
When she went back downstairs to wait for Gwyn’s knock on the door the first thing her father asked her was where was the piece she should be studying as he would listen to her saying it.
‘I think I know it well enough now, thank you,’ she told him quickly. ‘You enjoy your newspaper, it’s not often you have the time to sit and read.’
He looked at her questioningly but she avoided his eyes and speedily went out into the kitchen on the pretext of seeing if she could help her mother.
‘You’re making a lot of extra work, you know, by inviting this chap here,’ her father commented when she came back into the room and began laying the table with her mother’s best lace tablecloth which was only used on special occasions. ‘Was it really necessary to disrupt our Sunday like this, cariad?’
‘I thought you would like to meet him since he is a special friend,’ Sarah told him.
‘I see!’ Lloyd Lewis put down his newspaper and stared at her fixedly. ‘And just how special is he, then, and why have you never mentioned him before now?’
Sarah felt flummoxed. If she told the truth and said that he was her steady boyfriend it would cause an uproar, yet if she said he was just a casual friend then her dad would want to know why they were making so much fuss about his visit.
‘Hang on a minute,’ she prevaricated, ‘I think Mam is calling me for something.’
Once out in the kitchen she asked her mother what she ought to tell him.
‘How do I know, cariad? What is the truth? Is he special, or are you simply saying that to explain why you’ve asked him here? I’m very surprised at you doing so, I must say, since you know how much your dad dislikes visitors, especially on a Sunday.’
‘Well, it’s not possible during the week, now is it, because Gwyn is busy studying just as I am,’ Sarah argued.
‘Oh, I see. He has lectures late at night as well, does he?’ her mother asked dryly.
Sarah looked at her quickly, wondering if perhaps she’d guessed the truth but her mother was concentrating on cutting slices of ham off the joint she’d cooked the day before and didn’t look up.
For one wild moment Sarah thought of putting on her coat and dashing down to the tram stop to tell Gwyn that one of her parents had such a bad cold that they thought it best to call the whole thing off; only the thought of how stupid that sounded stopped her. She’d asked him, he’d accepted, and therefore she’d have to go through with it and hope for the best.
Everything was ready on the table well before four o’clock. For the umpteenth time Sarah checked, four cups and saucers, four plates, knives, napkins, milk and sugar and a plate of ham sandwiches, a plate of Bara Brith and also a plate of Bara Sinsir, the tasty ginger cake that her father liked so much.
‘I’m ready for my tea,’ Lloyd pronounced as the grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimed the half-hour. ‘What time is this special friend of yours arriving, Sarah?’
‘I told him half past four.’
‘It’s that now, so he’s not very punctual, is he?’
Even as her father spoke there was a knock on the door and Sarah felt the colour rush to her cheeks as she hurried to answer it.
To her delight, Gwyn had brought flowers for her mother and Lorna was charmed by his thoughtfulness. She welcomed him quite warmly, told Sarah to take his coat and hang it in the hall, and then to bring him through to meet Lloyd.
Sarah felt prickles running down her spine as the two men confronted each other. Gwyn confidently held out his hand to the older man and thanked him for the invitation to visit them. Taken by surprise, Lloyd returned the handshake and motioned him to sit down.
Even though the occasion started off reasonably well it soon became very plain that her father and Gwyn didn’t see eye to eye. Lloyd cross-questioned Gwyn in his sergeant-major voice about the course he was studying and what plans he had for his future career.
Sarah hardly said a word, hoping that it would give her father a chance to get to know Gwyn better if they talked man to man, and then regretted her decision the moment Gwyn mentioned that he came from Aberdare and that the men folk in his family were all miners. To make matters worse he went on to say that he hoped that when he became a fully fledged journalist he’d be able to put over their viewpoint and help them fight their corner for better conditions and rates of pay.
The moment she heard him say it she knew he had antagonised her father and she listened in growing dismay as Lloyd held forth on what a discontented lot the miners were and how they were always holding the country to ransom with their demands.
Several times Sarah tried to intervene, to turn the conversation to other topics, but Lloyd silenced her abruptly. ‘Quiet, you may be studying law but you know nothing about politics,’ he told her in a harsh voice. ‘Neither does this young whipper-snapper, but he will know a great deal more after I’ve pointed out a few home truths to him.’
‘He’s not come here for a lecture, he’s come to enjoy Sunday afternoon tea,’ Lorna said mildly as she held out the plate of Bara Sinsir to Gwyn.
‘Thank you, Mrs Lewis, and a splendid tea it is.’ Gwyn smiled back at her. ‘I’d rather have another slice of Bara Brith, though, if I may; I much prefer it to ginger cake.’
‘Indeed you may,’ she said quickly, holding out the other plate. ‘The Bara Sinsir is not to everyone’s taste but I always make it because it is my husband’s favourite,’ Lorna told him.
‘Another thing on which we don’t agree, then, isn’t it?’ Lloyd said critically. ‘Tell me,’ he went on, not wait
ing for an answer, ‘if you are supposed to be studying to be a journalist and my daughter’s course is law and commerce, then how is it that the two of you have become so friendly?’
‘Well, we are both attending Cardiff University,’ Gwyn said with a bland smile.
Lloyd looked thunderous. ‘I am well aware of that, but you are not attending the same lectures.’
‘No, that’s true. I am two years ahead of Sarah, of course, and that makes a considerable difference, doesn’t it?’ Gwyn told him.
Sarah held her breath. She wasn’t sure whether Gwyn was teasing him or challenging him but she could see that her father was riled and she was fearful of what he might say or do next.
As soon as it was possible to do so, Gwyn stood up and said that he must be leaving as he had some studying to do in readiness for the next day’s lectures.
With her heart in her mouth, she watched as her father ignored Gwyn’s outstretched hand as he took his leave and prayed that he wouldn’t kiss her in front of her parents.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Sarah,’ he said breezily. ‘Thank you once again for a lovely meal, Mrs Lewis,’ he added as he walked towards the door.
Chapter Five
The moment the door closed behind Gwyn, and Sarah came back into the living room, the row erupted.
‘Don’t ever bring that chap here again. Furthermore, I want you to stop seeing him altogether. He is not the sort of person I want you associating with; is that understood?’
‘Gwyn is my friend, of course I shall go on seeing him,’ Sarah said shakily. ‘There was no need to be so rude to him; you wouldn’t even shake hands with him when he left.’
‘He’s a troublemaker, mark my words. With his sort of background I suppose it is only to be expected.’
‘If you mean that because he comes from the Valleys and his family are miners then you are quite wrong,’ Sarah defended. ‘They’re the salt of the earth. Where would this country be without them? It’s coal that powers industry as well as heats our homes.’
