Swansea Summer

by Catrin Collier

  ‘You want me to put it in the living room?’ He looked quizzically at her. ‘Even if I could get it through the door, it wouldn’t fit in the hall …’

  ‘Don’t be silly, you know I meant the garage.’

  ‘There isn’t room for two and my father’s car will be there.’

  ‘Then you’d better put the top up in case it rains.’

  ‘I intended to.’

  ‘Thanks for the drive.’ She opened the door.

  ‘You’re going, just like that.’

  ‘You want me to give you notice?’

  ‘Just the chance to say thank you.’

  ‘You’ve already said it.’

  ‘I can say it again. Look …’ Momentarily lost for words, he stared into her eyes. They glowed luminous in the twilight. Magnificent, beautiful eyes that had first attracted him to her. No matter how many times he looked into them, they held a fascination that seemed to encompass her entire personality. He loved her wholly, deeply and profoundly to the half-agonising point where he felt himself defined by his feelings for her. She was the first thing he thought of in the morning and the last image his mind clung to before sleep overtook him at night. She stole into his day and night dreams. How could she not realise that every breath he took, every plan he made, was for her?

  ‘Look?’ she reiterated expectantly.

  He searched for the right words. ‘I know we’re only friends but can we do this again?’

  ‘The next time you want to talk to someone, you know where to find me.’

  ‘Not just talk. Go for a drive, a walk …’

  ‘Perhaps,’ she murmured distractedly. ‘There’s Martin.’ Opening the door, she ran up the street to meet him.

  A knot of jealousy tightened and twisted in Joe’s stomach, flooding his mouth with bile as he watched Lily greet Martin. He didn’t want to look at them but couldn’t stop himself. She was smiling. Was it his imagination, or was there more warmth in her face now than there had been all evening?

  Slowly, gradually, her smile grew strained as Martin looked from her to the car. Instead of the hug he’d braced himself for, Martin turned his back on her and headed in his direction. ‘Just can’t leave her alone, can you, Joe!’

  Lily grabbed the arm of Martin’s torn and oil-stained denim jacket as he lunged forward. ‘There’s nothing between Joe and me any more. We’re just friends …’

  ‘Friends!’ Martin spat out the word as if it were a profanity.

  ‘Friends,’ she repeated quietly, still clinging to his arm.

  He looked at her for an instant, then at Joe. Clenching his hands into fists, he turned on his heel and ran down the steps to his basement.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lily.’

  ‘It’s all right, Joe, he just lost his temper. I’ll talk him round.’

  ‘If it will help I’ll go with you.’

  She shook her head. ‘It wouldn’t, but thank you for the offer.’ Leaving him in the car, she walked up the path to her front door.

  ‘You’re late, Lily.’ Mrs Lannon emerged from the kitchen as Lily hung her coat and hat on the stand. ‘Your tea is in the oven; although heaven only knows what state it will be in after all this time. Burned to a crisp, I don’t doubt.’

  ‘I’ve eaten, Mrs Lannon, but thank you for the thought.’

  ‘Well, I must say it would be more thoughtful of you if you told me when you’re going to be out in future. And for how long. It will save me the trouble of making meals you can’t be bothered to eat, and all the worry that Katie and I …’

  ‘Katie’s in?’

  ‘She went down to Joe’s ice cream parlour with Judy and Sam. I think they’re going to meet her brother after visiting.’

  Lily was sure that Katie hadn’t told Mrs Lannon every detail of her planned movements but she said nothing beyond a vague, ‘I see.’

  ‘Don’t you want anything? A cup of tea at least? I know what you young girls are like. Dashing about here, there and everywhere, filling yourself with all sorts of rubbish, never taking time to sit at a table and eat a proper meal.’

  ‘I don’t want anything, thank you, Mrs Lannon.’ Lily was conscious she was clipping her words. She had to try harder – learn patience like Katie. Mrs Lannon’s constant carping and prying never set her friend on edge the way it did her.

  ‘You haven’t said where you’ve been.’ Mrs Lannon crossed her arms and waited to hear.

  ‘A friend was in trouble and needed someone to talk to.’

  ‘Would that be a girlfriend?’

  ‘Just a friend, Mrs Lannon.’

  ‘You’re not thinking of going downstairs at this time of night,’ she warned disapprovingly, as Lily opened the basement door.

  ‘It’s not that late and I need to see Martin.’

  ‘He’s alone down there, you know. I just heard the door bang.’

  ‘It could have been Sam or Jack.’

  ‘They’re still out with Katie. Besides, I saw Martin walk down the steps.’

  Lily realised that if Mrs Lannon had seen Martin walking down the steps she must have been standing in the front parlour window and that meant she must also have seen her and Joe arrive in Robin’s car and Martin shouting at Joe. ‘I won’t be long.’

  ‘Your uncle won’t like you being alone in that flat with your young man,’ Mrs Lannon called after her. ‘It’s not right for a girl your age to be with a boy that close to his bedroom …’

  ‘Uncle Roy would understand.’

  ‘There’ll be gossip.’

  Lily finally bit back, ‘Not if you don’t tell anyone.’

  ‘Leave the door open …’

  Suspecting that Mrs Lannon wanted the door left open so she could eavesdrop, Lily drowned out the rest of her directive by banging on the door that connected to the basement. When it didn’t open, she tried the handle. It didn’t surprise her to find it unlocked because the boys never bothered to pull the bolt on the inside. Stepping into the passage she shouted, ‘Martin,’ but there was no reply.

  She glanced into the kitchen. The light was on, but it was empty. The door in front of her was Sam’s bedroom, the door to her right at the end of the passage the bedroom Jack and Martin shared; both were in darkness. Closing the door and thrusting the bolt home to stop Mrs Lannon from following her, she walked down to Martin’s door and knocked gingerly on the glass pane before noticing that the back door was open.

  The light was on in the garage at the bottom of the garden. As her uncle had never owned or taken any interest in cars, he had practically given it over to the boys. Jack used it to store and work on his motorbike and Martin as a workshop where he cleaned and repaired the car components his boss allowed him to bring home.

  Martin glanced up as she opened the door, then quite deliberately looked down at the makeshift workbench he had cobbled together from an old table and a couple of tin trays. Usually he bathed and changed out of his work clothes as soon as he came home, but he was still wearing his stained denim jacket, jeans and old, worn shirt.

  She stepped inside and closed the door lest Mrs Lannon was watching from the kitchen window. ‘If I’d known you were that jealous of Joe, I would never have gone for a drive with him.’

  ‘You’re free to go wherever you please, with anyone you want to be with.’

  ‘There’s no one I’d prefer to be with rather than you.’ It was the closest she’d ever come to admitting that she cared for him but he continued to polish the rust from a piece of metal as if his future depended on the shine he put on it. ‘Martin, please, say something.’

  ‘What is there to say?’ He finally looked at her.

  ‘I bumped into Joe after work …’

  ‘And not for the first time,’ he broke in angrily. ‘I’ve seen you together before. Talking and holding hands in the Kardomah.’

  ‘I’ve had the occasional coffee with Joe in the Kardomah,’ she acknowledged, ‘but I never held his hand. Not after I broke our engagement.’

  ‘No?’ h
e challenged. ‘Think back a couple of weeks.’

  ‘I didn’t hold his hand,’ she protested.

  ‘And he’s walked you home from work. I’ve seen you coming up the street together.’

  ‘You make it sound as if Joe and I planned our meetings.’

  ‘Don’t you?’ He glared at her, daring her to say otherwise.

  ‘No!’ she exclaimed vehemently. ‘And if seeing me in the Kardomah with Joe bothered you, why didn’t you say something at the time?’

  ‘Because I was waiting for you to tell me that you’d gone there with him.’

  ‘If I didn’t, it was because I didn’t think it worth mentioning.’

  ‘You go to the Kardomah with your fiancé and didn’t think it worth mentioning to your boyfriend.’

  ‘Ex-fiancé, and if you don’t want me to see him again I won’t.’

  ‘Why, Lily? He has it all, fancy car …’

  ‘It’s his friend’s.’

  ‘But he has enough money to buy one just like it if the mood takes him. Just as he has prospects and a trust fund to give you everything I can’t.’

  ‘We’ve been through this, Martin,’ she reminded him hotly. ‘It’s you I’m going out with, not Joe.’

  ‘Were going out with.’

  ‘You’re finishing with me?’ Her throat went dry. She leaned against the wall.

  ‘You’ll ruin your jacket.’

  ‘Then I’ll have to clean it,’ she snapped.

  ‘Knowing what Jack’s like when he’s working on his bike, it could be covered with oil.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake stop fussing about my clothes.’

  ‘People like you shouldn’t come near grease monkeys like me. Here.’ Ignoring her outburst he wiped down an old stool with a rag, covered it with his handkerchief and handed it to her. As she took it, their fingers touched. He jerked back as if he’d been scalded.

  ‘Do you think so little of me that you’d believe I’d go out with Joe when I’m going out with you?’ she asked as she sat down.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what I think about you any more, does it.’

  ‘It does to me,’ she said impatiently. ‘I can’t understand why you think I want to get back with Joe.’

  ‘It’s obvious.’

  ‘Not to me. Joe’s a friend. He came to me tonight with a problem …’

  ‘What kind of a problem?’

  ‘His problem and it has nothing whatsoever to do with me, or you. He wanted to talk …’

  ‘And there was no one else he could talk to.’

  ‘He probably would have gone to Helen if he could have, but she’s in hospital.’

  ‘He has a father, his posh university friends …’

  ‘But he came to me,’ she countered. ‘I’m sorry if that upsets you, Martin. He offered to come here to try to explain …’

  ‘I bet he did.’ He finally set down the piece he’d been working on. ‘It’s the end of a long day, Lily. I’ve been working since seven this morning and I haven’t had tea.’

  She watched as he tidied away the sandpaper and dusted his bench. One of them had to say it. All she had to lose was her pride and that was a small price to pay if it meant holding on to him. As he walked to the door to turn off the light, she steeled herself for rejection and whispered, ‘I love you.’

  He paused, without turning to look at her.

  ‘It’s you I love, not Joe,’ she repeated, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

  He finally switched off the light, plunging the garage into darkness.

  ‘Did you hear me?’ She followed him outside.

  ‘Yes.’ He swung the bolt across the door.

  ‘And?’

  ‘I don’t know how you can. I’ve a foul temper. I hit people …’

  ‘Not people, only Adam and he deserved it.’

  Still refusing to look at her, he busied himself with the padlock on the door. Petrified that he was about to rebuff her, she gazed up at the stars. It was a clear, cloudless night. Millions upon millions of dazzling diamond pinpricks of light shone around a perfect crescent moon. Dizzy with apprehension – and wonder – she almost lost her balance.

  Catching her, Martin pulled her back against his chest, wrapped his hands round her waist and brushed his lips across the top of her head. ‘I don’t understand how you can love someone like me.’

  ‘Neither do I after the way you just behaved.’ She turned and kissed him and, as his lips met hers and the length of his body pressed against hers, all doubts and uncertainties dissipated. He might not have repeated her words but his embrace gave her all the reassurance she needed.

  ‘Are you absolutely sure?’ He looked into her eyes as he finally released her.

  ‘Absolutely. You?’

  ‘I love you so much it hurts.’

  The kitchen window banged open above them. ‘I can see you, Lily Sullivan. Come in this house this instant, or I’ll tell your uncle what you’ve been up to.’

  ‘We’re not doing anything illegal, Mrs Lannon, so I doubt he’ll arrest us,’ Martin called back.

  ‘Your behaviour is disgraceful …’

  ‘Would you rather I kissed her behind the shed where you couldn’t see?’

  ‘Martin Clay …’

  Neither Lily nor Martin heard another word. Lost in the moonlight, they kissed again, clinging to one another as if they’d just invented love.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘Everything go all right?’ John looked up from the Evening Post as Joe walked into the living room.

  ‘I think so. Why?’ Joe asked suspiciously.

  ‘You’ve been a long time and I didn’t mean that as a criticism. Whisky?’

  ‘Please.’ Joe sat down. ‘I met Lily from work and took her for a drive in Robin’s car.’

  ‘Then you two are …’

  ‘Just friends.’ He looked at John. ‘You’ll be glad to know that I’ll be able to afford my own car now so I won’t need to borrow Robin’s – or yours.’

  John handed him a glass of whisky. ‘Then your grandmother’s estate was worth having.’

  ‘According to Richard Thomas, I’m officially one of the richest – if not the richest – young men in Swansea.’ He watched John carefully as he mentioned Richard’s name, but there was no flicker of knowledge that suggested John knew the man was anything other than the family solicitor.

  ‘I’m happy for you, Joe.’

  ‘It will take a while to sink in. Do you mind if I take this’ – Joe held up the whisky – ‘upstairs? I have some studying to do.’

  ‘If you’re hungry, Mrs Jones left a fish pie in the kitchen.’

  ‘I’ll forage later.’ Joe took his glass and climbed the stairs. Switching off the landing light, he walked into his bedroom, leaving it in darkness. The curtains were open and light flooded out from their dining room and next door’s kitchen windows, shining down on Martin and Lily locked in one another’s arms below him in the garden. He continued to stand at his window, watching every move they made, all the while hating himself for being unable to walk away.

  Katie knocked discreetly on the back door. ‘Jack’s upset and Mrs Lannon’s hysterical. Judy’s trying to calm her down but she’s threatening to give your uncle notice, Lily.’

  Lily slipped her arms round Martin’s waist. ‘Kiss me again, quick.’

  ‘Tomorrow.’ Martin wrapped his arm round Lily’s shoulders and faced his sister. ‘Why is Jack upset? Helen’s not worse, is she?’

  ‘He doesn’t know. She overheard Jack telling one of the doctors he was leaving on Sunday to do his National Service and fainted, but they turfed him out of the hospital before she came round.’

  ‘Don’t worry, sis, I’ll look after him.’ He smiled at Lily. ‘See you tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes.’

  His smile widened as he went to the door. ‘We should quarrel more often.’

  ‘You and Martin quarrelled?’ Katie asked, as she led the way up the basement stairs.

&nbs
p; ‘Our first.’

  ‘But you’ve made it up.’

  ‘As you saw.’

  ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘Glad enough to brave Mrs Lannon with me?’ Lily whispered as they reached the top of the stairs.

  ‘That’s a lot to ask.’

  ‘Please, she’s always preferred you to me,’ Lily pleaded, as she opened the door to the hall.

  ‘Only if you stand between us, so I can run if I have to,’ Katie compromised.

  *……*……*

  Esme walked restlessly from bedroom to bedroom, switching lamps on and off, standing at the windows and straightening the drapes, studying the garden and sea views as if she’d never seen them before and wasn’t likely to again; all the while wondering when, if ever, she’d be back.

  Finally, she descended the curved oak staircase, allowing her fingers to linger over the banister and thinking it strange that she had never noticed just how fine the carving was before. The drawing room was furnished with antiques that had been her father’s pride and joy. He had courted experts and frequented auction houses, making it his business to find out when the best pieces would come up for sale and always insisting on detailed provenance. If she had inherited the place she would have swept them aside, ripped out the picture and dado rails, done away with the coving and painted the walls in bright modern colours, purple, orange, rich crimson and blue … but then, the house wasn’t hers. It was Joseph’s and he would prefer to allow strangers to live in it rather than his own mother.

  As she left the drawing room for the dining room, her heels echoed hollowly over the wood block flooring, raising goose bumps. Although she’d grown up in the house and moved back in after she’d left John, it was the first time she’d actually spent a night alone in the place. The housekeeper had packed her bags and left less than an hour after Richard had read the will. Her mother had joined her father in his grave … and she … what was to become of her?

  Richard, John and Joseph expected her to move into the flat above the shop on Newton Road that John had signed over to her as part of the divorce settlement. She hadn’t set foot in the place but she knew it would be small and noisy. How could she make a new life for herself there, without status or friends, after living in this house? And how like men to expect her to do so, after they had destroyed every dream and ambition she’d ever had.