Sophie Street

by Grace Thompson

  His arms wrapped her against him and they kissed; a sweet, gentle kiss that left them both shaking. A second kiss offered hope and they held each other close, each afraid to speak and spoil the moment. Until the voice from the landing called, “I’ll have a cup of tea if you’re making one. I didn’t feel well enough to go with Dad this morning.”

  Helpless with laughter, Jennie and Peter hugged each other once more, before getting up and creeping from the house.

  * * *

  Later that morning Carl stormed into Temptations and demanded of Jennie, “Did you do this? Did you persuade Frank to mess up my posters?”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, frowning. Then she remembered seeing some posters that morning as she had wandered back to look at her old shop. “Oh, are those red ones yours? The ones that are hard to read?”

  “I paid good money for Frank to distribute them. So why did he paste them back to front?”

  “I don’t suppose it’s any surprise to you, Carl, but you aren’t the only person in Pendragon Island to cheat occasionally!” The revelation lightened her mood and when Peter came to meet her at five thirty, she was quite cheerful. She was even happier when Peter suggested going back with her to The Firs to share a meal.

  * * *

  When Frank and Mair went to the register office to exchange their vows, there was a crowd of people outside. Among the mass of excited onlookers Frank recognised Jack and his wife, Victoria; Viv Lewis, dressed in a smart suit and sporting a rose buttonhole, with his wife Joan, and a group of children and young people gathered around Jack and Victoria who he realised were Victoria’s brothers and sisters. Why had they all come? He was pleased though. “Better than no one at all,” he confided in Basil, who was to be his witness.

  “They aren’t here for you, you fat-head.” Basil laughed. “Look who’s coming.” A car stopped and a shy Mrs Glory Collins stepped out to be greeted by her family. Stepping forward from where he had been waiting, was Sam Lilly, with his sister beside him. “You aren’t the only one getting wed this morning,” Basil said. “And I told you we were too early!”

  The wedding party went inside amid fluttering hands and shouted good wishes. Then Frank saw the rest of his family and friends gathering. By the time Glory and Sam Lilly had come out with their small party and stood with the new arrivals, the pavement was packed solid.

  The crowd parted when Mair arrived, dressed in a blue, mid­ calf-length dress with flowers in her hair, accompanied by her father. For once, Bernard Gregory was not in uniform as he approached Frank Griffiths. Instead of the usual glowering dis­approval, he smiled and offered his hand before following him through the doors. The cheering crowd of well-wishers, many unknown to either of them, settled to wait. Some ran to buy boxes of confetti, happy to be able to celebrate the joyful occasion.

  * * *

  Sam and Glory Lilly went to the small house in Goldings Street for their celebration meal. “Fancy having to stand there and hear the registrar say my name for everyone to hear, ‘will you, Gloriana Fleur Collins.’” Glory laughed.

  “Even your children were surprised. I think you’re in for some teasing, don’t you?”

  Outside, fixed to the window frame, there was a ‘house for sale or rent’ notice. As soon as they were able, the couple, plus Glory’s children, would make their home together in the house on Chestnut Avenue, with Sam’s sister sharing the house until she could find a place of her own.

  * * *

  For Frank and Mair there was the certainty of an all-night party in the Griffiths’s small cottage. Who would come no one knew, but they did know that the house would groan with the size of the party and that the food would last until the cockerel declared a new day had begun.

  Barry watched as people crossed the fields and headed for the cottage, laughing as they hurried towards the welcome they knew would be there for them. There was regret in his heart. He would love to have been a part of that unconventional and contented family, but he knew that he lacked that special undefinable something, that was needed to make him belong. Time to look away and search further afield for whatever life had in store for him. Two marriages today, and on Monday he would see the solicitor and tell him to get on with breaking up what was left of his.

  * * *

  Rhiannon and Charlie had planned a day out for the Sunday after the weddings. Mr Windsor from the garage had offered to lend Charlie a firm’s van to take his family out for a drive and to buy tea somewhere.

  “It will probably be the last outing before the baby arrives,” Charlie coaxed as Rhiannon showed slight hesitation.

  “Then I think we should,” she said but there was still doubt revealed by the slight frown. “Gwyn would love to go somewhere different. We don’t get out nearly often enough, do we?”

  “We’ll get a saddle for my crossbar just as soon as the baby’s old enough and we’ll go off on our bikes again. We all enjoyed that, didn’t we?”

  As she packed the picnic, Rhiannon was thinking that with only three or four weeks to go before the birth, she didn’t want to be too far from home. “Perhaps we could go to Dinas Powys and walk on the common. I love wandering down the green lane,” she suggested.

  “I’ve got something better in mind,” Charlie said. “But don’t ask, because it’s a secret. Right?”

  “Not too far, though, Mam and Dad have invited us for dinner, remember,” was all the doubt she showed. How could she spoil Charlie’s surprise?

  Dora and Lewis’s day had been planned. A morning making sure the rooms were all ready for Eleri and Basil and the boys to move in. Then, after a snack lunch, the van bringing their new lodgers’ belongings would arrive, followed by the family. “I expect the whole Griffiths clan will be here as well,” Dora sighed. “Lucky I made plenty of cakes.”

  “They won’t be here for ages yet and the place is so clean you’re wearing it out,” Lewis said as he put the last bed precisely into its allotted place. “We’ve got time to go and see Mair and Frank, give them that gift you bought.”

  After a cup of coffee, and having made sure everything was as ready as they could make it, they left the house at eleven o’clock to call on Frank and his new wife.

  * * *

  Basil brought the Griffiths’s old van to a halt outside the flat in Trellis Street and waited for Eleri and the boys to get in. They were going to leave the children with Hywel and Janet, while they used the van for the removal to 7 Sophie Street.

  “Not sad, are you, love? Leaving our home like this?” Basil asked, as he pressed down the clutch and put the old van into first.

  “I wish we could have stayed,” Eleri replied. “But if we have to move, I can’t think of anywhere better than sharing with Mam and Dad Lewis. They were so kind to me when I was married to Lewis-boy and they’ve never changed since. I love your parents, Basil, you know that, but I love the Lewises too. They’ll always be a part of our family.”

  “We’re pretty lucky all round, aren’t we, love?”

  “I should say we are.” She touched the heads of their two small boys as she spoke, then looked at her tall, boyish-looking, loveable husband. “I love you, Basil Griffiths. More than I can tell you.” She stretched up and tried to kiss his cheek.

  “Hang on,” he warned with a laugh. “We’ll be causing an accident and where would our luck be then? If I damage this ol’ van, our dad’ll kill me!”

  * * *

  Sam had suggested taking the children for a run as the weather was fine. They were surprised when four of them refused. Albert and George wanted to explore the area around their new home in Chestnut Road. Elizabeth and Margaret had been invited to a nearby house to play with some new friends, so it was with only the two youngest, Winston and Montgomery that the couple finally set out that Sunday morning.

  “What about calling for Victoria and Jack?” Sam suggested. “We’ll be back for lunch, but they might like an hour and a pint somewhere.”

  “Shall I drive?” Glory
asked, and when Sam nodded agreement, she slipped into the driving seat, a cushion at her back, and fiddled with the seat adjustment to be able to reach the pedals comfortably, and they were off.

  After they had picked up Jack and Victoria, they decided instead of going for a drive into the country, that they would take them back to Chestnut Road to see the changes taking place there.

  “But we could go through the lanes instead of the road, make a bit of an outing of it,” Sam suggested. “If you don’t mind driving through the lanes, dear?”

  “Of course I don’t mind. It’s no different from driving through the busy streets after all. In fact it can be easier as no one tries to overtake, and people drive more slowly.”

  “So, back to Chestnut Road, but by the scenic route.”

  * * *

  On that Sunday morning, Jennie was sitting in her small bedsit wondering where she would be a year hence. So much had happened in the past six or seven months that it was impossible to guess. Would she and Peter be together, or would they go ahead and divorce? To be back with him was what she wanted, but with conditions, she mused. She wanted Peter without his parents too near, or at least without his interfering, over-possessive mother. His father she thought she could manage without much difficulty. He was one of the ‘anything for peace’ type and wouldn’t try to run Peter’s life for him.

  She understood a lot of her mother-in-law’s behaviour now she knew about Peter’s parentage, but she still couldn’t face living a life with her clinging to them and insisting that everything was done to suit her. No, if she and Peter remained married, it would have to be a long way away from Pendragon Island.

  A knock at the door surprised her. She hadn’t had a single visitor until last night, when Peter had walked her home. She remembered how he had stared with some discomfort at the single iron bedstead, situated so close to the small sink and scarred old cooker in the room she now called home. She thought it might be Peter now, braving a second look, and hurriedly smoothed back her hair and checked her face in the mirror, adding a touch more lipstick before calling, “All right, I’m coming.”

  It was Peter, but his words were not cheering. “I’ve got the car outside, with Mam and Dad in it. We thought you’d like to go out for lunch,” he said.

  “To lunch? Me? With your mother?” She regretted the sarcastic response as soon as it was uttered, but was unable to take it back.

  “Please,” Peter said. “Mam wants to try and make amends for – for – well, you know,” he finished lamely.

  Putting on her summer jacket Jennie regretted not washing her hair. She went into the bathroom she had to share with four others and cleansed her face and neck, and reapplied her makeup. She looked at her thick hair, dull and with a hint of greasiness. She was ashamed of her neglect that morning. She combed it through with cotton wool in the comb to which she had added a few drops of cologne. Not perfect but it would have to suffice.

  Peter insisted she sat beside him, which she did, in spite of a few complaints from his mother, and he drove in an uneasy silence along Sophie Street up to the main road and on towards the quiet lanes that eventually would take them westward.

  “I thought Tenby would be nice,” he said cheerfully. Jennie agreed, wondering how she was going to cope with this awful journey and wishing she hadn’t answered the door. Peter’s father was pleased. He loved Tenby and hadn’t been there for years. Mrs Francis said nothing. She sat looking out of the window, stiff-lipped as though hating every moment. So much for making amends for her behaviour, Jennie thought grimly. What a dull boring day this was going to be, she silently sighed, as they passed the end of Chestnut Road.

  * * *

  Chestnut Road was on Lewis’s mind as he drove towards the Gregorys’ cottage tucked into the edge of the wood. Perhaps it had been the talk of Frank and Mair’s wedding that had begun the train of thought. He had married Dora when they were very young and, like Mair, she had been expecting a child, a baby they had lost. For years he had thought he was happy. Although there had been a few lapses on his part and many quarrels, he had believed he and Dora would spend their lives together. For most people, even now in 1956, when the number of divorces was increasing, that was still the expected thing.

  Meeting Nia Martin had changed all that. For many years he had wanted to leave Dora and go to her, but Nia wouldn’t agree. Their loving relationship had lasted undetected for many years. They had had a child, Joseph, who had been brought up by Nia as Barry’s brother. When Joseph had been killed in the same accident as Lewis-boy, their affair had been revealed. Then he had left Dora and gone to-live in Chestnut Road with Nia. When Nia had died in a stupid accident in her garden, he had not imagined anything more unlikely than his present happiness with Dora.

  Dora had changed, he had changed and together they had found a contentment he had once thought impossible. It wasn’t the strong passionate love he had known with Nia, nothing would ever replace that. He was thinking then of the moments he had shared with the quiet, softly-spoken Nia, the woman who had been the real love of his life, when a car hurtled out from a side lane right across his path.

  “Lewis!” He heard the warning, and it was Nia’s voice he heard. But he heard it too late.

  * * *

  In Sam’s car, Glory’s reflexes were not fast enough to stop the car as the van Barry was driving crossed in front of Lewis and Dora. Sam grabbed the wheel and pulled in towards the side where a ditch was hidden by ferns and grasses that grew there in profusion. Barry was wide-eyed with shock as he ran straight into Sam’s car, at the same time being shunted sideways towards the edge of the lane by Lewis’s car.

  Charlie heard rather than saw the accident and his foot was already on the brake as they turned a corner and came upon the three vehicles. Even though his speed was not great he found himself moving inexorably towards them. A protective arm across Rhiannon, he waited for the bump that would certainly come.

  Basil, in the Griffithses’ van coming up behind him, was unaware of the crash. Charlie and Rhiannon were bewildered and frightened when the bump they expected came, not in front of them, but from behind. When the van came to a stop and they had recovered from being thrown forwards and backwards, Basil and Eleri sat stunned as both children began to cry.

  The sound of the tormented metal which filled the air finally ceased, and there was only the sound of crying, accompanied by the slow regular drip of escaping petrol and an unidentified clicking.

  It was Charlie who reacted first. Carefully opening the passenger door he helped Rhiannon out and made her sit on the grass near a gate set back from the road, away from the cars.

  When he turned back, people were emerging slowly, stiffly as if dancing in some strange ballet. Their movements were accompanied by low moaning and wails and the occasional shrill cry of a child. He recognised Lewis and Dora who were standing staring as though bemused by what had happened. He couldn’t know that Lewis was looking around him, expecting to see Nia. Basil carried the two boys, while a tearful Eleri held his arm and walked beside him to sit with Rhiannon. He exchanged a few words of reassurance before running to see why no one was getting out of one of the other cars.

  Peter was sitting in the driving seat and beside him, Jennie was frantically trying to open her door, but her side of the car was too close to the bank and Charlie opened the driver’s door and dragged Peter out. With Jennie out and helping, he half carried Peter, and left him with the women. He saw to his relief that her mother was with her, and went back to Peter’s car. Peter’s parents were in the back, Mrs Francis wailing softly, a shivering kind of moan that chilled him.

  “Don’t worry, Missus, we’ll soon have you out of there. Just get you all away from the cars, then we’ll go for help.”

  “It’s my husband,” she whispered. She looked bewildered. Her voice was trembly and weak. “Help him, will you?”

  Charlie leant into the car and looked at Peter’s father. His head was at an awkward angle and there was ab
solutely no movement. He checked that Peter had turned off the engine, and holding back his panic, concentrated on opening the back door.

  “Come on, Missus. Let’s get you out of there, shall we? Give your husband a bit more room, is it?” He was no expert, but he didn’t think the man had survived the crash.

  He helped Mrs Francis out, groaning as she leant on her dead husband to do so, wanting to scream with the horror of it, wanting to get back to Rhiannon, filled with some atavistic dread of being so close to a dead body. He wanted to run back to the gateway, hug his wife, make sure she was safe and unharmed, longing for the live, healthy warmth of her. At the same time ashamed of his abhorrence, of his lack of pity for this man, and, for what the woman would have to face.

  When he was sure that apart from Mr Francis, no one was left in any of the vehicles he ran back to the gate and hugged Rhiannon. “Are you all right, my darling girl? I’m sorry I had to leave you but we had to get everyone out. You do understand, don’t you? You don’t think I should have stayed with you?”

  “Charlie, you did all the right things and I’m so proud of you,” she said tearfully.

  Dora nodded, watching her daughter for any sign of distress. After a few seconds allowing relief to spread through them, Rhiannon asked for details of what had happened. He avoided mentioning Mr Francis, but told her the rest.

  “Will you help me up now, please, Charlie? I want to make sure Jennie is all right.”

  “Basil has gone for help and Jennie is with Peter and his mam,” Charlie told her. “They’re all right. Don’t worry, help will be here soon.”

  Dora left them then and walked back to the crossroads looking for Lewis. When she realised he wasn’t there, shock took away her composure and she began crying and talking to herself. Rhiannon was talking to Eleri but seeing her mother was upset, hurried as fast as her ungainly body would allow and hugged her. “Where’s Dad?” she asked.