‘As long as they don’t dirty the cars by leaning on them.’ She hardly looked at Rick, who was standing in the porch talking to people in the crowd, but as she passed, she muttered from the side of her mouth, ‘Can’t you make them go away? They’re ruining the effect.’
‘Hardly!’ he replied, but she had walked on, nose in the air, ignoring the greetings from those already seated.
Dorothy Seaton-Jones wasn’t the build to be haughty – she seriously lacked the height besides being well rounded and wearing a dress with too many frills in a bright pink. She wore gold shoes, carried a gold handbag and struggled to control a wide-brimmed hat. Her face was rosy, her hair was blonde and even in the extra high heels – the reason for her ungainly exit from the car – she was below the level of her partner’s shoulder.
Ushers showed her to her place and she looked around as though wondering who to remove from her presence. Sally smiled as she found a place halfway down beside Valmai and Netta, and settled with a chattering Sadie on her lap. David entered and, seeing her, he moved someone along the row and sat beside her. He spoke to Sadie, whispering something in her ear that made the little girl smile, then showed her a packet of chocolate buttons ‘For after, mind,’ he said, winking at Sally.
Amy looked lovely in a white dress with a fitted bodice and a skirt that flowed around her slim figure like molten satin. She carried a bouquet of flowers in a pale honey colour that matched the dresses of the bridesmaids. She looked quite at ease, smiling at those in the pews that caught her eye, giving a little wave to Sally and Sadie, who called, ‘There’s Amy and she’s pretty!’ to the amusement of the congregation.
Despite earlier fears, the train was held capably by six small bridesmaids who followed her obediently to the altar, where it was quickly arranged around her feet. Amy smiled and reached for Rick’s hand. The chief bridesmaid, dressed in a slightly deeper shade of honey, took the bouquet and stepped back. The service could begin.
At once Sally began to feel weepy. The dream, so long held, that she would one day walk down the aisle with Rhys, surrounded by well-wishers, was gone for ever. She hugged Sadie as the little girl watched the proceedings in rapt attention, whispering a question sometimes and waving to people she knew.
David, aware she was upset, handed her a handkerchief. When they stood to sing, he put an arm around her shoulder and for once she was glad he was there.
Coming out of the church, everyone smiling, the photographer dashing around trying to organize people into the groups he needed, there was a sudden hush as Milly Sewell’s loud voice said, ‘Wearing white? Never! There’s no shaming some people.’
Dorothy was just behind her and she gave her an unladylike dig in the back. ‘What are you talking about? How dare you suggest that my daughter isn’t entitled to marry in white!’
Amy tried in vain to hush her mother, but to no avail. ‘I want you to leave this gathering at once,’ Dorothy demanded.
‘Well, if you don’t see anything wrong about having a honeymoon before being churched, then why should I?’
‘Talking rubbish you are.’ Dorothy pushed the woman again.
Milly laughed. ‘You pretending you don’t know?’
Every effort was made to stop the argument but convinced she was in the right, and outraged at the interruption on her daughter’s big day, Dorothy refused to ignore Milly, now joined by a few others who were enjoying the unexpected interlude.
‘There’s nothing to know! Respectable family we are, not like you, Milly Sewell. Where’s your son now? Pretending he doesn’t exist like always, are you?’
‘What are you talking about?’ Milly demanded. ‘Talking rubbish you are!’ She twiddled a finger in the area of her temple suggesting crazy talk, but Sally, watching her, recognized a hint of fear in those hard, dark eyes that she had never seen before. Surely a woman who took such pleasure in hurting people with criticism couldn’t have a secret of her own, could she?
Speculation was forgotten as Amy’s little mother suddenly ran at Milly and gave her a push that sent her running tip-tilt. To avoid falling over, her feet were moving faster and faster as she tried to regain balance. A man coming around the corner caught her. Breathless but determined, she turned and shouted back, ‘Don’t believe me? Where were you on the weekend of their original wedding date, eh?’
‘In hospital, which is where you’ll be if I get hold of you!’
The photographer finally took control and everyone smiled easily for him while he shuffled people here and there, getting his pictures. The unexpected interlude certainly made the crowd look happy. When the job was done there was no sign of Milly. Sally felt a tinge of pity for the woman. If there was any truth in Dorothy Seaton-Jones’s accusations, then she must have suffered, and she knew all about that. Taking opportunities to hurt others might be the only way Milly could hide her own pain. She knew that if a child was involved, the pain never leaves. She still grieved for little Samuel, born and lost to her so soon.
Amy and Rick were embarrassed by the outburst, aware the accusation was true, but more so by Dorothy’s behaviour. In the Rolls-Royce on the way to their reception, Amy said, ‘When I think about how she’s always disapproved of practically everyone, reminding those who cared that she was born to better things. Then to charge at Milly like a demented terrier.’
Rick started to laugh and soon they were both helpless. They were still laughing as they reached their destination and throughout the meal, Rick only had to repeat Amy’s description of Dorothy as a demented terrier for them to start all over again.
Dorothy just glared.
With exaggerated politeness, Dorothy asked Rick if he had ever been to Paris before. Struggling not to laugh, avoiding Amy’s eyes, he shook his head and said, ‘No, Mother-in-law, but I can’t wait to see it with my lovely wife. The best way to see Paris is with someone you love, isn’t it?’
‘Never been? No naughty weekend with a previous girlfriend?’ someone asked and Amy’s laughter was impossible to contain. Sally, aware of their first, unofficial honeymoon, laughed with them.
Amy’s mother went on to say that Paris was too far away, too foreign and had an odd attitude to fidelity and free love. Bournemouth, she insisted, would have been a better choice. Rick and Amy clung together and their laughter was contagious although no one really understood the joke. It set the happy mood for the rest of the day.
Sally had left Sadie with Valmai and shared a car with some relations of Rick as the official guests made their way to the hotel where the reception was being held. The odd events had confused her. It made her wonder whether everyone had a secret or two tucked away, hopefully never to be revealed. Milly Sewell with a son? Dorothy with the temper of a fish wife? Where in her fine education and upbringing had she developed that? Were all her fine ideals and attitude lies too?
David hadn’t been invited to the reception but, to her surprise, Eric had. She sat next to him as they helped themselves to a huge selection of food from a large, semi-circular buffet in one corner of a well-appointed room with plenty of small tables and comfortable chairs.
‘Can it be true – about Milly Sewell having a son?’ she asked as they tackled a plateful of delicious pastries.
Eric smiled. ‘It’s true. Poor Milly. Her mother refused to allow her to keep him. She’s lost touch, of course, but it ruined her life. So bitter and angry. The memories of that time must still be fresh and raw.’ He looked at her and smiled. ‘I have a daughter, you know.’
‘A daughter? Where is she? What happened?’
‘My wife thought someone else would make her happier than I could so she left and took my little girl with her.’
‘I’m so sorry, Eric. That’s another pain that never goes away, like poor Milly’s. Losing Samuel was only a short while ago but I’ll never forget him, and I sometimes wake up having dreamt he was here and growing up. The shock when the dream fades is indescribable.’
He nodded agreement. I haven’t seen my child since she was at sch
ool.’
‘What is your daughter’s name?’ she asked.
‘Julia. She’d be twenty-six now, twenty-seven at Christmas time. Born when I was thirty-eight.’
He didn’t seem to want to say more so Sally changed the sad subject and talked instead about the secret honeymoon that was a secret no longer.
The official honeymoon was a few days in London and soon after they returned, Sally saw Rick as he was driving home from work to where Amy was waiting for him in the house locals still called the Waterstones’ house.
‘Sally! I’m glad I’ve met you. Amy would like you to come for Sunday lunch one day soon,’ he said. ‘She says she needs practice first and would rather try out her skills on a friend!’
She thanked him but refused. ‘I can’t leave Sadie with Valmai and Gwilym; they give her so much of their time.’
‘Oh, it won’t be for a few weeks yet, and Sadie will be welcome. In fact it’s Sadie who’s invited and as a favour is allowed to bring you!’ he joked. ‘Amy would like Valmai and Gwilym as well. D’you think they’ll come?’
Sally shook her head. ‘Valmai would love to come but Gwilym never leaves the house, or at least, doesn’t go any further than his workshop.’
‘I understand he refuses to be fitted with an artificial leg, but why doesn’t he use the wheelchair? And surely he can manage crutches? Ask him. We’d be so pleased for them both to be our first guests.’
‘The trouble is pride, according to Valmai and Eric. Gwilym used to be a popular sportsman and he can’t face anyone in his disabled state.’
‘Surely someone can persuade him? The first few times would be embarrassing maybe, but people quickly start to notice the person, not the disability, don’t they?’
‘Ask him, or better still, persuade Amy to ask him. You never know your luck.’
Of course Gwilym refused. Amy pleaded and Valmai lost patience. Sally waited for the invitation but it was a very long time coming. Amy wasn’t brave enough to cook for a large number and having promised so many people an invitation she couldn’t just ask a few, so she gave up the idea completely.
Valmai was increasingly upset at Gwilym’s refusal to leave the house.
‘With young Jimmy desperate for a friend to help him succeed at something at school, you’re needed, Gwilym. All that knowledge and you’re unwilling to help someone like Jimmy. Then there’s our granddaughter. Can’t you make an effort for Sadie?’
‘Not yet,’ he replied. ‘Soon, maybe, but not yet.’
‘Always the same answer. When is soon, for heaven’s sake?’
‘It’s a bit late to start cricket practice. Perhaps next year.’ He pushed himself out of the house and into his shed.
One of his crutches was kept in the shed in case he needed to get up and reach something. She took the second one into the shed and placed it beside the first, glaring at him before reaching for her bicycle and heading off to work. He hid his distress. He knew he’d let her down and she deserved more than he’d been able to give.
When a few minutes had passed and he was sure she wouldn’t return to continue the tirade, Gwilym took out the artificial leg on which he’d been working, referred to the book with its illustrations, and carried on with the task. He was ready to hide it when he heard the approach of footsteps.
Almost every time Sally returned from work David was near, having brought firewood or some plants, or just with something to report. He sometimes went in and shared a cup of tea and some biscuits – often made by his mother. Mostly he just had a brief word, played with Sadie while she sorted out the meal, then left.
‘I know you’re busy, I only came to see that you and Sadie are all right,’ he’d say as he waved goodbye. One day, a week after Amy and Rick’s wedding, he was bursting with news.
‘I’ve got a job!’ he said. ‘Not what I’d hoped for, not proper carpentry, but it’s work.’
‘David! I’m so pleased. I’m sure it will lead to better things.’
‘Maintenance it is, for a man who owns several boarding houses. The work is humdrum compared with what I do best, the money isn’t grand either. But it’s a start.’
‘Congratulations. I’m so pleased.’
‘Are you? Well, you should be. My starting work after all these months is down to you. Seeing how hard you work shamed me, Sally. You have Sadie to consider and what responsibilities have I got? None. I should have got started ages ago.’
‘Never mind, you’re starting now.’
‘Fixing new doors and repairing window frames. Not much of a start.’
‘Come on in and have tea with us. We’re only having beans on toast but there’s bread and butter pudding to follow, thanks to Valmai.’
As they sat and shared the meal set out on a small table near the fire, he talked.
‘I realize now that if I want a proper life, with a wife and a home and children one day, I have to make a start, even if the start is a long way from where I want to be. I’ve been a fool to let the years pass me by feeling sorry for myself. I’m no better than Gwilym who refuses to make the effort to get out of that house, allowing Valmai to work like she does. Worse, in fact, being stronger and younger. One day, I’ll be able to care for a wife and she won’t have to work. She’ll be like Amy with money to spare and freedom to enjoy it.’
He was looking at her strangely and Sally felt uncomfortable. Surely he wasn’t expecting her to be a part of his plan? ‘Come on, Sadie, time for bath and bed. Pass me Teddy Blue Ribbon, will you, David? Thanks for staying. It makes a change now and again.’
He handed the large teddy given to Sadie by Eric, with the blue ribbon around its neck, and reached for his coat.
‘Want any help with the dishes?’
‘No thanks, you go. You do enough for us without washing the pots.’
He put on his coat and suddenly leaned over and kissed her cheek before leaving. She locked the door after him and frowned. That was a complication she didn’t need.
Unaware of her frown, believing he had taken a couple of steps towards a stronger relationship with her, he was smiling when he went through his door. Rhys had been released by the police for now. But his time would come.
His mother was out and a saucepan on the stove was filled with hot water, keeping his plated supper warm. Ignoring it, he went up into the loft. The package was there undisturbed: the stolen items carrying Rhys’s fingerprints and no one else’s. If Rhys came back then it wouldn’t be long before the evidence was given to the police. With Rhys in prison for theft, Sally would put him out of her mind for good. ‘And,’ he said aloud, ‘I’ll be there.’
His new job was poorly paid, but with the occasional theft from unsuspecting people, walking into houses left unlocked while the owner was at the shops or even hanging out clothes in their garden when he felt particularly audacious, meant savings building up. One day, he’d be rich enough not to need this but until then there were always people too stupid to notice the small valuable items he took to unsuspecting dealers, who believed he was a market trader or antiques dealer. And besides, it was fun.
The repairs to various houses gave him added opportunity to search for items that were valuable but unlikely to be missed. Everyone, it seemed, had something of value, something special, often hidden away, their sentimental value no longer entitling them to be seen, but kept in a forgotten corner. Throughout the late summer and as autumn drew near, he added to his savings and by the time Christmas decorations began to be seen in shop windows, he had acquired an encouraging amount. Another year was almost at an end and there was still no sign of Rhys coming home. Perhaps now would be a good time to take his relationship with Sally a stage further.
Valmai, with the minimal information given by Sally, had visited Bristol several times during the past months but had failed to find her son. She tried at the house described to her by Sally and there was no one there who knew him from the photograph she took to show around. One neighbour did remember seeing him but assured he
r he didn’t live there, but used to visit a previous tenant. Valmai wasn’t sure whether that information was good news or not. If the woman and her child had moved out and Rhys was no longer seen, it seemed a possibility that they had moved away together. But where?
She went to the café to where letters had been sent one Friday afternoon. She had taken a few days’ holiday to concentrate on the search.
‘Yes, I know him but he hasn’t been here for months,’ she was told. She ordered tea and toast and sat, with the photograph on the table beside her, hoping someone would see it and be able to help her. A few people glanced as they passed, curiosity bringing them past the table instead of directly to the door.
‘Seen him, have you?’ Valmai asked a few times but was rewarded only by a shake of a head. Then as she was leaving a man stopped and asked, ‘Looking for Rhys, are you?’
‘Yes, he’s my son. Please, do you know where he is?’
Another shake of a head then the man said, ‘You could try Golden Harp Street. Don’t know the number but he was there for a while. Working on the roads he is. Council might help.’
She found the street and knocked on doors until she found someone who remembered him. There was another disappointment as she was told Rhys had moved out after only two weeks.
Valmai thanked the man, left her address in case he should ever see him, and headed for the train station. There was nothing more she could do that day. The council offices would be closed as it was after six o’clock on a Friday evening, but they’d be open on Monday and then she’d find him.
She was almost crying with relief when she knocked on Sally’s door.
‘I went to that café who held his letters and a man there knew him. He lived in Golden Harp Street for a couple of weeks but has moved again. He works on the roads. On Monday I’ll find him.’
Sally didn’t disguise her lack of interest. ‘Glad I am if you find him, but I don’t want to know. He treated me like a fool and whatever the reason, his whereabouts are no longer my concern.’
Facing the World Page 19
