‘Good.’
‘Do you think you’ll be well enough to start it off?’
‘Give me two or three days.’
‘That’s not what Bethan said.’
‘I’m a quick healer. You in a hurry?’
She looked at the clock. If she wasn’t back to give Billy his midday feed, her mother would do it. And it was far too early to start the banking. ‘Not especially, why?’
‘I thought we could go through the figures together, seeing as how we’re going to be business partners.’ His heart beat faster as he looked at her. It was no use reminding himself that she was married and the mother of his brother’s child. He wanted to be with her. It was as simple and as dangerous as that.
‘All right.’ She pulled a chair to the table and opened the bag Alma had given her. ‘At least if I stay, I can stop you bobbing up and down every five minutes.’
Alexander walked down the hill with mixed feelings. He would much rather have spent the evening with Jenny than in a pub, but despite the warm welcome, marvellous supper and ecstatic reception, last night had ended on a sour note. Sheer frustration had driven him to give her the ultimatum that they make their relationship public or end it, but he had no regrets. Even six months was too long. He was tired of all the subterfuge. He respected his landlord, Evan Powell, and he would have liked to be able to look him in the eye every time his daughter-in-law’s name cropped up in conversation. Something he certainly couldn’t do at the moment.
He hadn’t even intended going out, but after coming home from the pit, bathing in the tin bath in the draughty and uncomfortable washhouse, changing, and eating supper he had felt restless, and as he had no place else to go, he’d decided to give the White Hart a try.
Crossing the road, he slowed his step as he walked past Griffiths’ shop. Freda was behind the counter. On impulse he called in and bought a packet of cigarettes. She didn’t mention Jenny’s name, and he didn’t dare ask, but no sound echoed down from upstairs, and when Jenny was home she usually had the radio on.
Did that mean she was working late? Or had she gone out with another man – Ronnie Ronconi again?
He carried on down the hill. Skirting station yard he resisted the temptation to eye the girls touting for trade, crossed the road and entered the Hart. Blinking against a fug of tobacco smoke, he peered into the bar. It was crowded with men playing darts and eking out their rationed pints. He walked on down the passage into the back room. An enormous crowd of women had commandeered the central tables, glasses of beer, shandy and sherry lined up in front of them. Cigarettes in mouths, they were laughing, drinking and chattering, making more noise than the men in the bar.
‘Gets you a bit, doesn’t it?’ the barman remarked as he walked past him with a tray of clean glasses. ‘But as the boss says, “Business is business.” Their money is as good as everyone else’s and seeing as how they earn it, why not?’
‘Why not indeed?’ Alexander echoed following him to the bar. As a fully paid up member of the Communist party he’d always advocated equality between the sexes, he’d just never assumed it would take such blatant proportions. Now he was faced with it, he was disturbed to discover that it shocked him to the core.
‘Alexander! Over here!’
Judy Crofter waved to him, her peroxide curls bobbing against her rouged cheeks, her lips stained a deep vermilion that bleached the colour from the rest of her face. But her pale skin was nothing compared to his when he noticed the woman sitting beside her. If looks could kill, the one Jenny was sending his way would have been enough for the barman to have reached for the sawdust bucket to cover his corpse.
‘That’s enough figures for one day. I can’t look at another number.’
‘I know what you mean, they won’t stand still on the page.’ Ronnie closed the child’s exercise book he’d been working in.
‘Do you want a hand to get up the stairs?’ Diana asked.
He looked at the clock. ‘The restaurant will have closed by now so Gina will be along soon with my tea. I’d rather eat it down here.’ He bundled the sheets of paper together. ‘Can you spare some time tomorrow?’
‘If you like.’
‘I’d like, very much indeed.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d want to come near me again after yesterday.’
‘Yesterday was just one of those things. No harm done.’
‘No?’
‘Ronnie, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. I’m happy as I am.’
‘Are you?’ His eyes were dark, serious in the gathering twilight.
‘There’s no reason why we shouldn’t be friends.’
‘Friends?’ he repeated slowly. ‘Is that what you think we are?’
‘How can we be anything else?’
‘That’s what I’d like to find out.’
‘Ronnie, I’m married. I have a family. I can’t offer any more than friendship.’
‘Then it will have to do.’ The ‘for the moment’ hovered unspoken between them.
The front door crashed open. ‘Ronnie, are you upstairs or down?’ Gina strode down the passage, slammed back the door and burst in carrying a hay box made out of a wooden ammunition crate. ‘I didn’t know you’d be here, Di. I brought your tea, Ronnie.’ She dumped the box on the table, and turned to her brother. ‘What are you doing out of bed?’
‘Going through accounts with Diana. She’s been here all afternoon and can verify that I’ve behaved myself’
‘Has he?’
‘I took out an hour to do the banking, so he could have danced the highland fling then, but while I’ve been here he didn’t put a foot to the floor.’
‘And don’t even think of doing so for at least a week,’ Gina ordered.
‘You sound like Bethan John.’
‘She called in to see me and Tina. You’d better follow her orders to the letter. If you don’t, you’ll find yourself in the Graig Hospital because neither Tina nor I can spare the time to look after you.’
‘Grown up bossy, haven’t we?’
‘I’ve no time for your sarcasm, Ronnie. Can you stay another ten minutes, Di, to dish this out and clear up after his lordship? I’d like to be home to wash Luke’s back before tea. He can’t reach all of it himself, and what he misses ends up on the bedclothes.’
‘In that case you’d better hurry.’
‘Thanks.’ She kissed Ronnie absently on the cheek and dashed out through the door.
Diana took the box into the pantry, lifted the lid and the straw that covered the saucepan hidden in its depths, and ladled half the stew it contained on to a shallow soup plate. Cutting four slices off a rather grey national loaf she found in the bread bin, she piled the plate and the bread onto a tray and carried it in to Ronnie. ‘You eating there or at the table?’
‘Here.’ He lifted the books and papers from his lap and dropped them to the floor. ‘Knowing Gina, she will have brought enough to feed an army. Why don’t you join me?’
‘I’ll have supper at home with Wyn.’
‘What time does he get in from the factory?’
‘Today, around six. I’m meeting him in the New Theatre shop.’
‘Then you’ve half an hour to spare.’
‘Just enough time to tidy up the pantry.’
‘It doesn’t need doing.’
‘That’s what you think.’
‘Sit and talk to me.’
‘We’ve talked all day.’
‘Only about business.’ He stuck a spoon into the stew. ‘You know, this has been the first good day I’ve had in a long time.’
She stacked the exercise books, papers and pencils neatly on the table. ‘I’ve enjoyed it too. Perhaps it’s because we’ve had something worthwhile to do.’
‘You don’t think it’s the company more than the work?’
‘Stop fishing for compliments.’ She went into the pantry, rearranged the hay around the saucepan, and replaced the lid on the box. He was right, the pantry didn�
��t need tidying, but she waited until his spoon stopped clinking in the bowl before emerging. He was sitting back in the chair, ashen with pain and exhaustion. ‘I’ll help you up the stairs.’
‘It’s all right. I promise to go as soon as you leave,’ he added in response to her sceptical look. ‘My leg aches too much to do otherwise. I thought nurses were kind women who soothed pain. Bethan’s brutal.’
‘Only with patients who don’t do as they’re told. You want tea?’
‘No thanks. I’ve drunk enough to float the navy today.’ He watched while she carried the tray into the washhouse. After soaking the dirty dishes in the sink, she returned to the kitchen and gathered her coat and bag from the chair. ‘You’ll be back tomorrow?’
‘If we work at the same pace as today we should have the final figures to show Alma. Is there anything you want me to bring?’
‘Just yourself.’
‘Ronnie …’
‘I know, friends.’ His face creased in pain as he moved his leg slightly. ‘But we’re friends who are playing with fire, Diana, admit it.’
‘So, Mrs Powell, do you come here every night after work?’ Alexander was acting the disinterested acquaintance for all he was worth. As Judy had reserved him a seat next to her, he had been forced to sit between her and Jenny; but although Judy was doing most of the talking, his attention had been riveted on Jenny, who persisted in ignoring him despite all the sly glances he sent her way.
‘I’ve only been working in the factory a week,’ she replied tersely.
‘But she’s getting really good at her job,’ Sally interrupted from across the table. She had no idea who Alexander was, other than the best-looking man she’d seen since the call-up had decimated the male population of the town, and that in itself was enough for her to want to get to know him better.
‘Is that right?’ He picked up his pint of beer and raised it to his lips.
Jenny didn’t answer him. Turning ostentatiously to the girl sitting behind her who was recounting the birth of her last child in colourful, graphic and, as far as Alexander was concerned, embarrassing detail, she appeared to develop a sudden and intense interest in maternity ward procedures.
‘I think I’ve had enough of sitting round here.’ Judy clutched Alexander’s arm. Brushing her face against the rough tweed of his jacket she deposited a thick smear of pink powder on his sleeve. ‘Do you feel like going to a café?’
‘I’ve already had my tea.’
‘Well none of us have eaten, have we, Jenny?’ She tapped Jenny on the shoulder to gain her attention.
‘I’d be quite happy to watch you eat.’ Alexander gave Jenny a hopeful smile as she turned her head.
Judy giggled as though he’d cracked an amusing joke. ‘Let’s go.’ She leaned over and scrabbled beneath the table for her handbag.
‘Mrs Powell?’ Alexander stood back and offered Jenny his arm.
‘No thank you.’ Ignoring him, she smiled as Judy surfaced, red-faced, and jealous-eyed. ‘Two’s company, three’s a crowd.’
‘If you say so.’ Judy gloated visibly as she linked her arm into Alexander’s and shouted goodbye to her workmates.
Feeling as though he’d finally had his public slap in the face, Alexander was left with no choice other than to leave Jenny and escort Judy to the door.
Diana made her way down the hill, neither seeing nor acknowledging the greetings of her neighbours. Preoccupied with the expression on Ronnie’s face when he had told her they were playing with fire, she attempted to analyse her feelings for him. Used to Wyn’s quiet diffidence, and during their brief courtship, Tony’s somewhat erratic ardour, Ronnie’s soft-spoken, self-confidence unnerved her. Despite all that she had told him about herself, he seemed neither shocked nor disgusted. He hadn’t even unduly pitied her. Only persisted in trying to get to know her better.
She realised that the sensible thing for her own, Wyn’s and Billy’s sake was to avoid Ronnie as much as possible, given that they moved in the same confined circle of family and friends. But no matter how much she tried to justify her visits to him as duty calls on a sick friend, she knew Ronnie was right. They were playing with fire. A flame that could easily consume what was left of the unorthodox marriage she and Wyn had so naively and optimistically embarked on.
Before she reached the shop she resolved to tell Wyn exactly how she felt about Ronnie. But even as she walked through the door of the theatre she suspected that once she came face to face with her husband she would break the resolution, take the coward’s way out and say nothing.
If only Wyn would lose his temper and order her to stop seeing Ronnie, the decision would be taken out of her hands. But Wyn was not a man who lost his temper easily. He always looked at difficult situations reasonably and logically, seeing them from every perspective, and generally setting his own feelings aside in favour of others. But it wasn’t just Wyn. She didn’t want to stop seeing Ronnie. Not while he remained in Pontypridd. No matter that she had a husband and a son to consider, she could no more resist the lure of his company than a moth could resist the deadly attraction of the flame. Even though it meant, at the very least, a painful singeing of its wings.
*……*……*
‘Has Mr Rees been in yet?’ Diana asked Alice as she walked into the foyer of the New Theatre.
‘Been and gone, Mrs Rees, He said you weren’t to worry about putting the takings in the night safe, but to go straight home. He’d see to the banking and meet you back at the house later on.’
‘Did he say where he was going?’ Diana had to make an effort to keep her voice steady.
‘No, but he had a man with him. One of the foreigners from Jacobsdal. From the way they were talking I think they intended to go for a drink.’ Unable to look her employer in the eye, Alice began straightening the row of sweet boxes on the counter. Diana turned away, sensing a well-meant sympathy she could not take. ‘Do you want me to give him a message when he comes back, Mrs Rees?’
‘No, Alice. I’ll catch up with him later.’
Confused and inexplicably angry, Diana left the shop, but she didn’t walk on through town towards Tyfica Road. Instead she turned back up the Graig hill. If Wyn wanted to spend time with Erik in Jacobsdal, then there was nothing to stop her from spending time with Ronnie. She would clear his tea dishes, soak his washing and prepare his breakfast for the morning. The more she did for him, the less he’d have to do, the quicker he’d mend and the sooner they could make a start in the kitchen of his High Street shop. It made good sense – and it would have made even better if she’d believed that was her only motive for returning to Graig Street.
Alexander sat opposite Judy in Ronconi’s café watching her shovel sausage and chips into her mouth in between high-pitched, noisy outbursts of hysterical laughter that he suspected were designed to draw attention to her and to them as a couple. He couldn’t help wondering how on earth he’d ended up with the woman. All he’d wanted was some company, preferably Jenny’s, and here he was with a girl he had absolutely nothing in common with, and who didn’t remotely interest him, listening to stories of how difficult it was to buy make-up, and how impossible it was to get perfume and how hard it was to sit still on a factory line filling powder caps all day.
‘So what about it?’
The sharp question intruded into his reflections.
‘What about it?’ Judy repeated, her mouth opening wide enough for him to see half-chewed lumps of sausage and chips wedged between her tongue and teeth.
‘Sorry, I was miles away.’ He pushed his chair as far from the table as the wall behind him would allow.
‘What we going to do now?’ she demanded impatiently. ‘We could go back to my place if you like?’
‘To meet your family?’ he asked warily.
‘My father’s worked nights for years. He lost a leg in an accident in the colliery, so they gave him a cushy job as a night watchman. My mother ran off before he even left the hospital. Can’t say I blame her, reall
y. Watching a man take his leg off every night to go to bed must be a bit like living in a horror film. Don’t know how Diana Rees stands it … where was I?’
‘Your house,’ he reminded her.
‘Oh yes. All my brothers are in the army. So,’ she leaned over her plate to get closer to him, ‘we would be all alone.’
‘Apart from the neighbours and the twitching curtains.’
‘I don’t give a fig what the neighbours say.’
‘I’ve heard there’s a good film on in the White Palace.’
‘You want to go to the pictures?’
‘Why not?’
‘All right.’ She used her fingers to scoop the last few chips from the grainy soup of vinegar and salt on her plate, speared them on her fork and crammed them into her mouth. ‘If we hurry we might get all of the short and the first feature.’
He paid the bill while she took her hat and coat from the rack. As he handed the money over to Tina he wondered whether or not he dare try Jenny’s door again that night. This was one evening he really wished was over before it had begun.
‘I thought I heard someone down here.’ Ronnie limped down the stairs and stood in the doorway of the kitchen watching as Diana raked the ashes from the grate.
‘Thought I’d come back and clear up.’
‘There was nothing that couldn’t wait until morning.’
‘I know. It’s just that I had a spare couple of hours.’
‘I thought you were going home to have supper with your husband?’
‘He’s gone out with friends.’ Her lips closed into a serious line that warned Ronnie not to trespass further. He hobbled forward, crying out as his crutch slipped into a crack between the flagstones and his foot hit the floor.
‘You really should be in bed.’ She turned around, impatience giving way to concern as he sank on to the bottom step of the staircase.
‘I’m going.’
‘I’ll help you.’
‘Not for a minute you won’t.’
‘It’s really hurting, isn’t it?’
‘I have to admit. It’s burning like hell.’ He watched as she reached for her coat. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To telephone Bethan.’
Past Remembering Page 28
