At nine o’clock in the morning she’d put bread to toast in front of the fire when the telephone rang and, with relief, she heard Greg telling her they were all right. ‘Mam is with Aunty Mabs and I stayed with a friend. Grateful I am mind, but damn me that’s the most uncomfortable night I’ve had in a long time.’
‘Thank goodness you’re safe.’
‘Spoilt rotten I’ve been. Are you all right?’
‘Cosy and warm.’
‘Look, you won’t see us for a while, Mam’s car is at the hospital and she’ll wait in the hope of being able to drive back. I’m off to work to see if any routes are clear yet. There won’t be many even though workmen have been out all night. We’ll see you as soon as we can, but with the lane certainly blocked I don’t know when.’
Almost crying with relief, Zena stood for a moment staring at the phone then became aware of the smell of burning. She ran to the fire, threw the toast that was burned to a crisp out into the garden and put more slices on the fork in front of the red coals. Then she rang Aunty Mabs and burned those too.
After eating the third attempt she looked at the time. Jake should be in the office now. She dialled the number and the receptionist answered, but when she asked about Jake there was some hesitation. ‘Don’t tell me he’s been cut off by snow too!’ she said with a laugh. ‘We’re cut off and we’ve had no power for hours. Snow drifts have blocked the lane.’
‘Jake isn’t here,’ the girl said hesitantly.
‘Don’t worry. When you see him, just tell him we’re cut off but we’re all safe, will you?’
‘Yes I will – if I see him.’
Again she sounded hesitant, doubtful, but Zena put it down to the fact that the girl was new. She might not know who is who yet. The light and power was restored a hour later and, with a sigh of relief, she put the casserole on to cook.
At twelve o’clock she heard the sound of an engine and there at the gate was the tractor with Uncle Sam driving and her mother sitting beside him. Sam was grinning widely as he helped her mother down. ‘More trouble than all my cows and sheep this one,’ he teased. He stayed for coffee, handing Zena a box containing a quart of milk and some eggs. He wrote down their shopping needs which he would collect later then went off waving away their thanks.
Frost made the roads and pavement surfaces dangerous and Zena didn’t attempt to visit her clients. It was three days before Greg could get home by crossing the fields. The main roads had been quickly cleared and he had been working, staying with his friend. ‘It’s like the end of a little war,’ he said, as he hugged them. If only Jake would ring everything would be perfect, Zena thought. It was more than a week since they had spoken and, although she had tried the office again she’d had the same vague non-committal response when she asked to be at least told where he was. She had even asked to speak to Madeleine and was told that she too was unavailable. It wasn’t that unusual for days to pass without contact, but his having been told she had been cut off by snow, she had expected a note of concern.
She wrote twice to his flat and for more than a week waited in vain for a reply. He rang eventually telling her he was in Belgium and wouldn’t be back for a couple more days. ‘It’s a chance of some serious new business,’ he explained. ‘Too boring to explain now but it will mean some new lines and a pleasing number of new customers. I’ll tell you when we meet, and that won’t be long now, lovely girl. Meet me at Neath station two o’clock a week Friday and we’ll have a wonderful weekend.’
‘Neath station? The railway station? Aren’t you coming by car?’
‘Well, one of the other reps, Rick, was stuck for transport and, as I was off to Belgium for a week or so, I lent him ours. So far, he hasn’t got back. If he gets his sorted in time I’ll definitely drive down, give you a real weekend to remember.’
‘He’s lent our car that I haven’t even seen yet, to someone else,’ she told Lottie. ‘If he has something needed by someone else he’ll give it freely.’
‘Very nice, dear,’ Lottie said vaguely.
Zena stared at her, curious about the tone of her voice. ‘I was angry at first, but really, he’s just completely unselfish, isn’t he?’ And he makes sure you are too, Lottie thought, but she said nothing.
As usual, Mabs was more outspoken when she met her nephew. ‘Lent the car to someone else, I hear. Kind of him, isn’t it, Greg?’ She looked at him, her eyebrow raised questioningly. ‘It’s Zena’s car too and she doesn’t have any say, does she? And Jake gets all the praise. She goes to work on a bike at this time of year with snow still on the fields and he lends their car to someone she doesn’t even know. Very kind to anyone except Zena, if you ask me.’
‘She doesn’t seem to mind and after all wouldn’t she do the same?’
‘She never gets the chance!’
‘He’s a decent chap and I like him,’ Greg defended.
‘So would I if he was engaged to anyone other than your sister!’
More snow fell but the lane leading to the house and beyond wasn’t seriously blocked and transport in the town ran without problems. Zena managed to get to her jobs easily, stopping one bright morning for a snowball fight with Nelda’s daughters. Bobbie managed a few viciously accurate hits on Zena and Nelda, Georgie laughing too much to join in.
The worst danger was the ice. In places it was invisible to the eye and made pedestrians slide and stumble and the family all warned Mabs not to go out. Sam delivered shopping bringing what Lottie needed, warning her that carrying heavy baskets made it more likely she would fall. He also took whoever was visiting Ronald to the hospital, where the staff were no longer talking about his coming home.
Despite the inconveniences, the snow and frost were a beautiful sight. The gardens and the trees were so lovely people stopped to stare at them as they passed the parks and Greg and Zena struggled down to the lake to admire the winter wonderland of trees and bushes dressed in silver and white.
Nelda visited with the girls and they walked through the woods towards Sam’s farm. The children played hide and seek among the trees and the scene was described by little Georgie as, ‘trees painted by fairies’.
Greg laughed one morning when Zena brought in a shirt that had been on the line overnight and stood it to its full height on the kitchen table where it stayed for a while before slowly collapsing in the heat of the house. He laughed a lot but Zena guessed it was no more than defence against the misery of his love for the mysterious Rose.
The thaw came and the beauty was replaced by gloom and mud. Zena was busy getting to her regular jobs, Greg doing extra shifts as winter illnesses affected the drivers, Lottie visiting Ronald between working in the stationers.
Ronald still talked happily about when he would be home, and said there was something important he had to do in case he became ill again. He didn’t explain and Lottie didn’t pressure him; she was afraid of doing or saying anything that might upset him, his health was so fragile. She did mention a curious letter from the bank but he waved it away, promising that it would all be sorted when he got home. It referred to a debt on which payments were overdue. Ronald insisted cheerfully that it must be a mistake. A transfer of funds would put it right. Reluctantly she put it aside.
It was as the last of the snow melted away and the grass shone like new paint in the fields around that Zena began to be worried. Jake had not come for the weekend as promised. A hastily written note cancelled their meeting in Neath and since then there had been nothing.
Mabs didn’t go out during the days, Zena or Greg or Lottie did her shopping, promising not to disturb her in the evenings as she liked to listen to the wireless and doze. They were unaware of the taxi that called for her four evenings a week and took her into town.
When Zena called for their usual lunch together, Mabs said nothing about Jake’s silence, afraid a wrong comment would result in a disagreement. When Zena finally saw sense about the feckless Jake, she would need her sympathy and support and a few wrong words now co
uld spoil that.
Greg hadn’t made further contact with Rose after she refused to explain her reason for lying about where she lived. He went out with friends and forced laughter, pretending they’d both made a terrible mistake and had parted. He put aside his curiosity and tried to forget her. Lottie, Zena and Mabs guessed there was something he wasn’t telling them, but they were wise enough not to ask. Then, one day she was waiting at the bus garage and said she was sorry and would explain one day, tell him the truth, before hurrying away.
The weather became almost spring-like for a few days and Mabs went out with baskets and purse to fill her larder. It was Wednesday, half day closing and Lottie would be home. She wondered how Ronald was. She’d go with Lottie to see him this afternoon. She always dreaded the first sight of him, afraid he would have deteriorated and would not be coming home. Thank goodness Zena was living there and looking after Lottie. Such a sensible girl, apart from the aberration that caused her to fall for that useless Jake Williams.
The family had been kind and kept her supplied with essentials and the rest she managed from her store. Thank goodness for a fridge, she thought. That was one of the few things she had bought with Frank’s money and one she didn’t regret. She’d pretended it had been a Christmas present from him that he’d bought as a surprise. She hated using the money which she was convinced had caused his death. Winning all that money had been such a shock to the system, he’d had a heart attack and died within a month.
She closed the door and set off for the bus. Llyn Hir was still cut off with remnants of the drifts and the bus would take her only as far as the lake, and the steep path up to the house. Not for the first time since Frank had died she regretted not being able to drive. She smiled to herself as she waited for the bus. She could afford a taxi and many would call her stupid for not using one, but she was determined not to use more than a few hundred pounds of the fortune that had killed her Frank.
She began to shout as she reached the door. ‘Zena? Lottie? Anybody home? I’m sinking for a cuppa. Damned stupid place to live this is, stuck up here at the end of nowhere.’
Zena came into the kitchen and hugged her. ‘Aunty Mabs! So glad to see you. Mam’s at the hospital, they phoned for her to go in, but she rang to tell us he’s much better. He’d had what Mam called “a bit of a turn”, but he’s all right again.’
‘I thought I’d go in with your Mam to see him.’ She showed Zena the contents of her basket, producing sweets and a newspaper. ‘Where’s young Greg?’
‘He’s at work. Afternoons all this week.’
‘I thought he was mornings?’
‘Sickness has made them short of drivers.’ They talked about Greg’s shifts for a while, Zena amused by her interest in knowing where he’d be working and what time.
‘Glad I am that he followed your Uncle Frank and became a bus driver,’ Mabs said. Zena waited until Mabs was in front of a steaming cup of tea and a round of toast and said, ‘I have a day off today.’
‘Enjoy cleaning other people’s houses, do you?’
‘I wasn’t sure, and it was only intended to be for a short time but yes, I enjoy it. I only take on work where the people are pleasant, so I’m happy doing it for a while. Living in the flat with Jake away, I had so many hours with no company. I see my clients and listen to them talk about their lives and it helps. My routine used to be the office and home with nothing much besides. My days in that office were repetitious, so rigid and, well, boring.’
‘Of course it was boring. That’s what they pay you for.’
‘Without hope of running a bed and breakfast, as Jake and I had once planned, there must be better ways of earning money than cleaning up after others, but I’ll do it while I think about what I want to do.’
‘And Jake?’
‘He wants me to go to London and start a new life there. Perhaps I should, at least I’d feel a part of this relationship. At present I’m no more than appendage, a hanger on. Even the girls in the London office treat me as though I’m a nuisance, calling and interrupting them. And I don’t think the woman called Madeleine passes on my messages. Even Jake can’t forget them all!’
‘You haven’t made up your mind, about London?’
‘I can’t imagine living so far away from this place, and Mam and Dad and Greg, and you of course. Stupid, isn’t it?’
‘Seems to me following your instincts is a sound way to plan your future.’ She held up her plate. ‘And now I’d love another cup of tea and more toast slithering with that illegal farm butter!’
Lottie and Greg arrived home an hour later and found the table set and Mabs busy peeling potatoes. ‘Sausages and mash and onion gravy,’ she announced before hugging her sister-in-law. ‘Lovely chat we’ve been having. Now, tell me, how is that brother-in-law of mine? Anything I can take for him? I was hoping to go in with you but you’d gone. What’s this about your shifts changing, young Greg?’ Mabs chattered on throughout the meal and until Zena walked her to the bus stop.
‘Now Zena love. Don’t make any rash decisions. Think about the years ahead of you and how you’d like to live them. Right?’ As the bus took her away she was still shouting, ‘What about the flat? You’ve lost your tenants so when are you going to rent it again? Be careful about that, mind. And talk to that Jake!’
Zena had interviewed prospective tenants and two seemed suitable. They wanted to move in after Christmas, which was a few weeks away. She smiled as she walked back up the path, thinking of how involved Aunty Mabs was in the day-to-day happenings of the family; then she frowned. She hadn’t told her the full story about her difficulties in contacting Jake. It was stupid to blame Madeleine and the others. Contacting her or not was Jake’s choice. She hadn’t mentioned her growing fear that they would soon be parted by his indifference and wished she had; telling it out loud might have helped her to face it.
She stopped at the gate of Llyn Hir and looked around her; at the bushes where they fed the fox, at the dilapidated platform in the oak tree that hadn’t deserved to be called a tree house, but where she and Greg and their friends had played happily through long summer days.
‘Mam,’ she called, ‘I wonder if that tree house could be mended? We’ll never use it again, but I love to see it there, a memory of lovely days.’
‘I’ll ask Uncle Sam if he knows anyone with the patience to try.’
Greg had expected little from life except a happy marriage and children, with a job that gave him enough to keep them comfortable. He had no desire to move away from the village where he had been born and that was filled with people he liked. He earned a reasonable wage as a bus driver, with occasional overtime and even more occasional extra money driving coach trips in the summer months.
The cottage left to him by his grandmother was added security, giving him extra money and a chance to learn new skills as he dealt with small repairs when they were needed. The tenants he had found had given little trouble and he was happy with the present arrangement with a couple now due to retire who used it as a holiday home while they decided whether to move to Cold Brook Vale to live out their later years.
Meeting Rose Conelly had promised to be the beginning of his dream of home, wife and children. She made him feel happy and he had imagined that it was the same for her, but her refusal to meet his family or introduce him to hers was a concern. He hadn’t told her he’d discovered the fiction about where she lived. He had been hoping that she would tell him and explain her reason for lying, but although he had vaguely mentioned the house to which he had regularly taken her after their dates, no explanation was forthcoming. They could drift for a long time like this; a secretive love affair that offered no hope of anything more. It had to be sorted. But how?
He and Rose were meeting to go to the pictures that evening and he had suggested a meal afterwards. ‘That was a hurdle too,’ he told Zena. ‘She doesn’t like eating in restaurants. How can she be shy? She works in a shoe shop, dealing with customers; surely she couldn’t d
o that if shyness was her problem?’
‘Jake used to be uneasy when we ate in what he called a posh place,’ Zena explained. ‘It was something he wasn’t used to. He was embarrassed, knowing the other diners would recognize him as a Joe’s caff, pie and chips man. Perhaps it’s the same for Rose. Why don’t you bring her home? Or take her to a small insignificant café somewhere?’
Greg disagreed. ‘I have to make her face whatever is troubling her, and tonight I plan to put a few of her demons to rest.’ He didn’t tell Zena he was going to propose. He was not that sure of Rose’s acceptance and being turned down was not something he would enjoy admitting. He was tense during the evening, taking in nothing of the film they were watching.
He hardly said a word as they walked to where they were to eat supper, although Rose chatted away and seemed unaware of his mood. At the restaurant he had chosen she became quiet and was nervous as they went in and he coaxed her to hand her coat to the waiter who came forward. They were shown to a corner table and Greg offered her the menu. ‘Anything you want, Rose. Tonight is a special occasion.’
‘Not a birthday is it?’
‘No,’ he whispered smiling at her. ‘I’ll tell you later.’
She relaxed, tucked in their corner, and was soon laughing at his stories about some of his passengers, joining in with amusing observations about some of the diners. Greg looked at her with utter pleasure. Surely everyone they met must envy him? She was pretty and funny and tonight she seemed more relaxed, although she turned away when someone offered a polite ‘Good evening’. He felt a great love and a need to protect her, keep her safe from anything that worried her. He could imagine a lifetime without an angry word between them. She relaxed him when he became irate – usually about something unimportant – and made him see the funny side of life.
The End of a Journey Page 4
