Holidays at Home Omnibus

by Wait Till Summer; Swingboats On the Sand; Waiting for Yesterday; Day Trippers; Unwise Promises; Street Parties (retail) (epub)

  * * *

  Eirlys felt more positive about her wedding after those hours spent in Piper’s Café. She was still very busy both at work and making her rugs, experimenting with wall hangings too after seeing some in a quality home-maker’s magazine. When she and Johnny were together they talked easily and about everything. Eirlys knew she would be utterly content as Johnny’s wife. She even helped out one evening in Piper’s fish-and—chip shop when Bleddyn had a night off.

  Unfortunately, that was the evening Taff and Evelyn came in.

  ‘I don’t think I want chips tonight,’ Evelyn said to Taff. Quietly, she added to Eirlys, ‘Not from your hands I don’t.’

  ‘What is the matter with you?’ Eirlys demanded loudly. ‘What have I ever done to you for you to treat me as though I’m not fit to look at you?’

  Taff and Johnny looked at Evelyn, both waiting for her apology or at least an explanation, but Evelyn simply turned around and left the shop. Johnny went to run after her, but Eirlys stopped him. There was a long queue of customers waiting and enjoying the fun. Johnny smiled at the next customer and asked cheerfully, ‘What can I get you, Mrs Thomas, the usual cod and chips, is it? And the names and odds offered on the contestants in tonight’s fight?’ Everyone laughed and the moment was eased.

  When the shop was closed, the cleaning done and Johnny was walking her home, Eirlys explained briefly some of the earlier incidents between herself and Evelyn and asked if he knew what had upset his sister-in-law.

  He laughed and said, ‘Whatever it is, it can’t be anything for us to worry about. She seems to have a problem accepting that I’m getting married. Perhaps being the only daughter-in-law, being fussed over by Dad, is a role she enjoys. Maybe she hates the thought of having to share his attentions with you, Dad having two of you to spoil and enjoy? He’s fond of you, get on well you do, anyone can see that. She might feel put out. I don’t know; let’s forget it and enjoy the walk home.’

  It was a shared problem now, she thought with relief, and it drew them closer. The wedding day was something Eirlys began to think about more and more and with greater excitement. For Johnny too, confidence in their forthcoming marriage was stronger. He felt he would be able to visit Hannah and the girls without fear of being tempted by her.

  He knocked on her front door one evening, straight from his new job at a greengrocer not far from the one at which Beth worked. A moon was showing through thin cloud and casting a magical beauty over the town.

  He had no reason to call, but decided to ask whether the girls would like to go with himself and Eirlys to the last week of the pantomime. He was smiling, certain Eirlys would agree.

  The door opened and Hannah stood there, her expression invisible in the poor light. There was no mistaking the voice, though. She had been crying.

  ‘Hannah? What is it? Can I come in?’

  ‘Sorry, Johnny. My mother insists that if I get any men callers I will have to take the children and find somewhere else to live.’

  ‘But that’s ridiculous.’

  ‘I have to agree with her. I have no choice,’ she said. ‘I even had to refuse to hand over a child’s dress yesterday when the husband of my customer called to collect it.’

  ‘Are there any restrictions on coming out for a walk? Josie and Marie aren’t in bed yet, are they?’

  ‘No, they haven’t had their supper yet. I keep them up a bit later than I should because the evenings are so lonely.’

  ‘Get their coats then and we’ll walk through the town and peer into shop windows. I used to love that when I was small, didn’t you?’ He produced an Aero, which he gave to the children. ‘Who cares if it spoils their supper? It doesn’t hurt once in a while,’ he excused to Hannah, who thanked him then nodded to tell the girls it was all right to eat it.

  The moon rose clear of the clouds and lit their way and they walked along the main road, where most of the shops were, stopping whenever something attracted the attention of the little girls. There was a toy shop, and Josie and Marie pressed their noses to the glass, covered the sides of their faces with gloved hands and tried to look at the wonders on offer for those with money. Bicycles and scooters, forts and castles, dolls’ prams, houses and everything needed to enjoy them. They discussed what they would buy if they were given a choice and Johnny stood inside the porch with Hannah close to him.

  Nothing was said, but their eyes told it all. What he felt for Eirlys was forgotten whenever he was close to Hannah.

  In their black woollen stockings and sturdy boots they were well wrapped up, but the girls soon began to shiver and stamp their feet as an icy east wind stole the warmth from them.

  ‘We should be getting back,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Another five minutes?’ he asked huskily.

  ‘Johnny, please don’t do this to me.’ She took her daughters’ hands and began to walk away from him, not hurriedly, but slowly, waiting for him to join them after a few paces, talking to Marie and Josie, asking if they had room for supper after the chocolate, which biscuits they wanted with their night-time cocoa. Calm, easy questions, denying the tumult in her heart.

  With the girls between them they wandered back, swinging arms and running at times to keep warm. At the gate, Johnny asked whether she would allow Eirlys and himself to take them all to the pantomime. He spoke quietly, afraid of disappointing the girls if their mother said no. He was holding his breath as he waited for her reply.

  ‘No thank you, Johnny. It isn’t fair. You and Eirlys have to do things together. I’ll take them myself, they won’t miss it, I promise.’

  ‘Hannah,’ he pleaded softly, but she told the girls to thank him and slipped inside, lost to him, it seemed, for ever.

  He went to see Eirlys later and the confusion of his feelings led him to be extra loving with her.

  Any doubts she had felt were long gone. She was marrying Johnny Castle and they were going to be blissfully happy.

  She would cope with the strong-minded Granny Moll, and deal with Evelyn’s disapproval with Johnny’s support and help. They had a home of their own, and the promise of a summer helping out on the beach, but only if and when she wanted to. There was nothing but contentment ahead. Full of emotional well-being, she went in and hugged her parents as she hadn’t done since she was a child.

  Eleven

  Eirlys’s euphoria lasted until a week later.

  During that week, she and Johnny spent evenings at Mrs Hibbert’s, putting the finishing touches to their future home. Eirlys had made curtains and one of her rugs with its design of cherries lay beside the double bed that was already made up with crisp new linen and two Witney blankets.

  A chest of drawers and a cupboard in a corner stood empty, waiting for the wedding gifts to come. Many more had been promised than originally expected. Moll had spread the word that one of the Pipers was getting married. She ignored the fact that Johnny was not a Piper but a Castle. As far as she was concerned, Johnny worked on the sands and was therefore family – her family. She had spent some considerable time reminding people of their connection with the Pipers, and contacted the people from whom they bought their supplies during the summer season. By these and other means, she had extended the circle of their acquaintances, making the list of promised presents very impressive.

  It was one of those spectacular mornings that sometimes occur during early spring which deceive people into believing that summer is just around the corner. Eirlys was awake early and she knew she would not be able to stay in bed. She went down and found that, early as she was, someone had been up before her. She felt the teapot and found it was warm. Throwing away the dregs she made a fresh pot and considered taking one up to her parents, then decided against it. Sunday morning was not the time to be roused before you need be.

  She drank two cups of tea and ate a few biscuits then, putting on a thick coat and warm scarf and gloves, went for a walk. She had no destination in mind, but when she saw the bright sun giving a rosy glow to the hedges and the g
raceful birch tree at the end of the road, which looked more perfect than a Christmas tree, she decided to go through the fields. With luck she might see a fox or another wild creature searching for food. There would be catkins or sticky-buds to pick and take home. Her mother loved to see them opening their fresh green leaves.

  She walked fast at first to warm herself, swinging her arms, a feeling of well-being lighting her face with a smile. As she reached the lane she slowed her footsteps to gaze in admiration at the trees bordering the road, not quite bursting into leaf but with the blackthorn already decorating the lanes with its white blossom. In the grasses at her feet daisies and dandelions bloomed and celandines showed their golden faces rising from the clumps of heart-shaped leaves. Nature was wearing her ostentatious best as though sharing her joy. She wished she had remembered to bring a camera. The Brownie box camera wouldn’t do it justice, but it would have been a memory of today, when she was so very happy.

  The field in which the old barn stood was the usual muddy morass. A few weeks ago it had been surfaced with hard ridges, with frozen water shining dully in the dips between them. She stepped carefully across and stood near the entrance for a while, wondering which field the cows were now using. Using the ridges as stepping stones, she made her way across the field until she was in sight of the caravan. Someone was using it. Smoke rose straight up from its chimney in the clear air, and the door stood open.

  Curious to know who could live in such a lonely place during the winter, she went to see if there was anyone home. She saw that the door was propped open with a pair of wellingtons. They were very like her father’s. She called and stepped closer, then as she had heard nothing she went right up to the door and looked in. A woman’s wellingtons were just inside. The thought flashed through her mind that Irene’s wellingtons were missing, and her ring and watch had never been found. Perhaps she used this place; Eirlys remembered seeing her nearby once.

  Daring to look further inside she saw a man sitting with a coat around him, looking as though he was fast asleep. She hesitated; she could hardly wake him up just to say ‘good morning’. Slowly she tried to back away. Then he opened his eyes and turned to face her.

  ‘Eirlys? What are you doing here?’ her father asked.

  ‘Dadda?’ she asked with a confused frown. ‘Can I ask the same question?’

  She went inside and saw to her horror that he had been crying. His eyes were bloodshot and tears wet his cheeks. Then she saw that the coat in which he had wrapped himself was not his coat. It was Irene Castle’s. She recognised it easily with its brown fur collar.

  A letter was near him and as he tried half-heartedly to pick it up, it fluttered to the floor. She stepped forward and was about to give it back but something stayed her hand and she read it.

  ‘Darling M, I will be waiting for you tomorrow at two. Don’t be late, I am desperate to see you.’ It was signed ‘I’.

  ‘Irene?’ she gasped. ‘Were you and Irene Castle seeing each other?’ When there was no reply she pleaded, ‘Dadda. Please tell me it isn’t true?’

  ‘It’s true. You wouldn’t understand.’ He pulled the coat tighter around him. ‘Bleddyn gave me her coat, this coat, and told me to cut it up for you to make rugs. I couldn’t do that.’

  ‘Tell me I’m wrong,’ she said. ‘Please, Dadda, tell me I’m wrong.’

  ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ he repeated, still not moving or even facing her, curled up hugging himself in Irene’s coat.

  ‘Understand? What is there to understand? You were carrying on with another woman and Mam didn’t know!’ She was trembling with shock and knew that if she didn’t allow anger full rein she would howl. Her parents involved in something as sordid as this? It only happened in films, didn’t it? Not in real life. She began to shout and scream at him and, as the full realisation came, that she could never marry Johnny after such shame, she began to hit him.

  He held her arms and talked soothingly to her, then as anger abated and hopelessness and despair overwhelmed her, he cuddled her as he had when she was a child.

  ‘If we tell no one, there’s no harm been done.’ He deliberately misled her into believing that Annie did not know. If both kept their secret independently, then it would avoid further outbreaks of Annie’s recriminations, The arguments, the recriminations, the anger, they would never go away. He didn’t think he could cope with any more of it. ‘Why upset your mother now, when it’s all over?’ he reasoned.

  ‘How can I marry Johnny after this?’ she wailed.

  ‘Not marry Johnny Castle? Why not? He doesn’t know, so how can it affect your marriage? So long as we don’t tell anyone nothing will change.’

  ‘Mam should be told. She has the right to know.’

  ‘Why, so you can feel better? Punish me? It won’t do anything for your mother except destroy her happiness, and where’s the sense in that, eh?’ he insisted, continuing with the lie.

  ‘I have to tell someone.’

  ‘No, Eirlys, you don’t. If Irene hadn’t died you might have been justified in telling everyone about us, but now she’s gone, and talking about it would only bring more misery. To her family as well as ours,’ he reminded her.

  She didn’t wait to walk home with her father, she ran across the slippery, uneven ground and stumbled, still sobbing, into the lane. Several times she skidded on the treacherous surface but she hurried on, unaware. How could they keep it a secret? In a small town like St David’s Well someone was certain to have seen them together and although weeks had passed since Irene Castle’s death and funeral, that did not mean they were safe from an ill-timed comment that would start the rumours spreading.

  Then a thought stopped her hasty retreat and she saw Evelyn’s dislike of her very clearly. Evelyn knew. Somehow she had found out and that was the reason for her unpleasantness, her unwillingness to accept her as a suitable wife for Johnny. She knew!

  The snide remark about a caravan honeymoon had been directed at her father, not her. The ‘ask your father’ and the conviction that she, Eirlys, knew what had been happening between her father and Johnny’s mother. It all fitted together now.

  She didn’t want to go home, but she had to. She would prepare the vegetables for dinner, and chat to her mother as though nothing had happened. Somehow she had to conceal from her the fact that her life was destroyed. Then, when she had recovered sufficiently, she would have to talk to Johnny, tell him their wedding was cancelled. She would have to tell him, but without explaining why. Only Evelyn would understand, and she would smile in satisfaction and say nothing.

  The saddest part of all this was that there was no one in the world with whom she could discuss it, talk to about her feelings, ease away the pain by sharing the whole sordid story. The secret was hers and hers it had to remain.

  Somehow she survived the day, using a headache as an excuse to stay in her room for much of the afternoon, and using the same excuse for not eating the meals. All the facts chased round and round in her head until she thought it would burst. She had decisions to make and they had to be made quickly.

  When Johnny called, she longed to run downstairs and fall into his arms, tell him everything and beg him to make it all better. She couldn’t. She loved him too much for him ever to be told. She persuaded her mother to tell him she was unwell and in bed. How could she see him now? Once she had her tears under control, then she would see him. Then she’d be strong enough to tell him she no longer wanted to marry him.

  Darkness fell, ending that most awful of days. Annie came up and fixed the blackout and lit her lamp and still she didn’t leave her room. How could she go downstairs and stay in the same room as her father, knowing what she did?

  On Monday morning she surprised her boss by offering her resignation.

  ‘If there’s a chance of transferring to a similar job elsewhere, I would like to be considered,’ she told him, ‘but I have to get away from St David’s Well.’

  Mr Gifford and Mr Johnston questioned her brief
ly but quickly accepted that it was something she did not want to talk about, for the moment at least. Mr Gifford guessed it was love trouble and thought it wise to do nothing for a while, in case the rift was mended and she changed her mind about leaving.

  ‘Will you please say nothing to the others,’ she asked as she faced him across his large wooden desk, her fingers twisting, showing her anguish.

  ‘I’ll say nothing until you are sure you mean it,’ he promised kindly. ‘Problems have a way of sorting themselves out given enough time. If you change your mind and want to stay, then nothing would please me more. You’ve been an asset to the office from the day you arrived, Miss Price. Hard-working and willing to tackle any task you are given. Whatever you decide, I wish you nothing but the best.’

  His gentle understanding made tears threaten. She managed to say, ‘Thank you,’ before hurrying from his office.

  She had to tell Johnny and her honesty wouldn’t allow her to write him a note – that would be cowardly – although how she would face him, tell him she wouldn’t marry him and at the same time refuse to give an explanation, was something she couldn’t imagine. Then there was the other problem of how to tell her parents. She had to move away from St David’s Well and start again somewhere far away, yet she didn’t have any idea of where to go or how to set about finding accommodation or work. She was daunted by her naivety, her ignorance. She had lived at home with her parents making all the decisions, happy to play a minor role in her own life, and now, at nearly twenty-three, she was trying to move out of that security and cope alone. How could she, without help? Then she thought of Ken Ward.

  As Eirlys was dropping a letter addressed to Ken Ward into the post box, the postman was delivering a letter to her from Ken. With the letter from Ken, two letters from the boys were delivered.

  Ken had tried to find Teresa and her sons but had failed. No one knew them at the address Eirlys had given him. He promised to try again when he had an opportunity.