Holidays at Home Omnibus
Page 60
* * *
Beth was happy that her aunt had married at last, but she was less happy about her own marriage plans. Freddy was unreliable and he was hopeless with money. But true love had no boundaries and she supposed she had to accept him with all his faults, as she expected him to accept her. Occasionally she felt a stabbing fear when she thought about the future, imagining sitting at home wondering whether Freddy was being unfaithful. She was ashamed to realise that these thoughts were greater worries than concern for his safety.
There were stories in the newspapers of men being let down by women while they fought the enemy and she determined that, whatever her doubts, she would remain loyal and support Freddy until the fighting stopped. Then Peter came home on leave and her strength was sorely tested.
She went for a walk one Sunday morning in February when the sun was beginning to spread its warmth, with a promise of the better days to come. Before she reached Goose Lane she met Mr Gregory and his flock of donkeys heading for the cliffs. Bernard was walking beside a small cart being pulled by the donkey known as Gus and the cart was loaded with hay bales and the drum of food for the donkeys’ evening feed.
Mr Gregory knew the story about Paul Downs and his affair with Martha Copp, and he filled in a few gaps. ‘Things aren’t ever forgotten, Beth, my dear. The gossip dies down but the facts lie dormant, simmering beneath the surface, and ready to pop up and start all over again. Remember that it’s the girls who are the victims in all this. The less they hear of the worst side of the story the better. They should know only that their father and mother loved them dearly.’
‘I agree,’ Beth said. ‘I’ve told them that already. And that their father loved their mother so much he gave up a great deal to be with her.’
‘Good girl,’ he said approvingly, puffing fiercely on his pipe. ‘I knew you’d say the right things.’ He smiled at her proudly and tilted his head as a salute. ‘Now why don’t you come with me to Sally Gough’s field, then we’ll go back for a cup of tea.’
Enjoying the slow, unhurried pace of the donkeys, Beth walked beside the cart with him, one of them on either side of Gus, through the lanes.
‘Peter’s due home tomorrow,’ Bernard told her. ‘Will you be able to get off for an hour or so? It being a Monday, you don’t open the chip shop, do you?’
‘I might,’ she told him. ‘Although Mam is already getting started on the café over the beach. With Dad not willing to help, and Uncle Bleddyn keeping away afraid of being involved, there’s a lot to do before the May opening.’
‘Peter’ll be disappointed not to see you,’ Mr Gregory said. ‘He loves your letters and looks forward to seeing you when he gets home. He reckons his leaves will be few and far between from now on. He can’t tell me of course, but I think there’s something serious in the offing.’
‘I’m not promising,’ she said, her heart racing as she tried to speak the words she didn’t want to say. ‘It’s Freddy, see. I’m not sure, but perhaps he’ll be home and I won’t be free.’
‘You and this Freddy, still engaged, are you?’
‘Still engaged. This isn’t the time to break off engagements, is it, with the men likely to go out to France or further afield, facing danger at any moment.’
‘You know he sees Shirley Downs and writes to her and you don’t mind?’ the old man asked curiously. ‘You modern women mystify me and that’s a fact!’
‘He feels sorry for her, that’s all. She’ll find herself a real boyfriend soon and then Freddy will forget her. Men and women can be friends without it developing into – you know – something deeper,’ she admonished.
‘Oh, can they?’ Mr Gregory didn’t sound convinced. ‘The back row of the picture house wasn’t for innocent friendships in my memory.’
She didn’t ask if he had seen Freddy with Shirley recently. She didn’t want to know. Just get the war over, she told herself, and then they would sort their lives out. Now, she owed Freddy loyalty and support, whatever he felt about Shirley Downs.
They sat in the field that sloped down to the rocky edge of the sea for a while as the donkeys explored their temporary home. The sea was empty of boats. The restrictions on their movement meant that the all-important fishing went on within a rigid timetable or they risked being shot out of the water by patrols.
There was no sound apart from the waves dashing against the rocks. Whereas the regular movement of the sea would normally have relaxed her, Beth felt an increasing restlessness that was nothing to do with the sea and everything to do with Peter, who was coming home tomorrow.
‘I can’t be more than a friend to Peter,’ she said sadly. ‘Tomorrow I’ll tell him so.’
‘Sure about that, are you?’
When they left the cliffs, having settled the donkeys in and seen to their feeding, she didn’t go back to the friendly cottage in Goose Lane. Instead she went back home to write to Freddy and Peter and Johnny and Taff. It was her war effort and a very important weekly chore, she told herself. Nothing to do with the aching need to see Peter, and feel his arms around her, have her lips touch his, telling him how much he was loved. She wrote Peter’s letter first, describing the peace and beauty of the cliffs and the contentment of his father. She mentioned in a casual way that she and Freddy would probably marry the moment he was demobbed. She read the lines that were filled with untruths in writing that was decidedly wobbly and told him nothing of how she really felt, and kissed the pages before putting them into the envelope, imagining him kissing them too.
* * *
Eynon came home for a forty-eight hour visit and the family celebrated with a party. No one outside the family was invited but that didn’t stop them coming. From every house neighbours poured, most bringing something to add to the feast. Bottles left over from Christmas, food stored for that special occasion.
The scar was admired as though it had been earned in an honourable battle and even when he told people he’d done it falling from a lorry, no one believed him. There was a war on, they wanted a hero, and he was it!
He invited Alice but she didn’t stay long, afraid of her father’s wrath if she wasn’t there when he looked for her. She promised to write, though, to his delight. He returned to camp to a different group of boys, stronger and with no fear of bullying, prepared to do what had to be done, older than his years and more sure of himself than ever before.
* * *
Shirley Downs called at Audrey and Wilf’s house and was made welcome. She spent time with Maude and Myrtle, filling in gaps and talking about their father. She was surprisingly happy as she remembered incidents involving her father when she was young. Her stories were soaked up like a sponge by the girls as they built up a picture of Paul Downs, their father, who was buried not far from their mother.
* * *
During March, which came in like a lamb and therefore threatened to go out like a lion, Huw still lived at his brother’s house. They did nothing towards preparing for the new season at the beach and if Bleddyn thought Huw and Marged were stupid, he kept it to himself.
Bleddyn continued to run the fish-and-chip café and he occasionally asked Beth how Marged was, but it never went further than the kind of brief, polite remark that warranted nothing more than a brief, polite reply. Both were determined not to become involved in taking sides. Mostly they talked about the latest letters from Johnny and Taff, and now Eynon too.
Beth kept away from Goose Lane while Peter’s leave progressed. It would be a forty-eight, Mr Gregory had told her, so she felt safe to go there the following weekend. As she touched the gate she heard laughter and saw Peter coming around the corner arm in arm with a pretty girl of about her own age. She stopped and looked around as though preparing to run, but Peter had seen her, called to her and she was rooted to the spot.
‘Beth, how wonderful. I thought you weren’t going to visit us this week. Do come and meet Diana. Diana, this is Beth about whom you have heard so much.’
Taking in the small neat figure, t
he pale baby-pink skin enhanced with rouge and lipstick, and the fair hair with its bow of ribbon tying back curls, Beth felt untidy and wished she had bothered to change out of the casual clothes she habitually wore when visiting Mr Gregory and his donkeys. She felt sick with jealousy, frighteningly, horrifyingly sick, afraid that if she didn’t get away from this happy-looking couple she would almost certainly throw up on Mr Gregory’s neat garden.
‘I was on my way to the cliffs,’ she said. ‘Can I use your lavatory?’
Why had she said that? Why ask to use the lavatory before even responding to Peter’s introduction to his friend? What a stupid remark! How embarrassing! Why couldn’t she be self-assured like Diana obviously was? Then she thought, Why does it matter? I’m going to marry Freddy Clements. But even to her, that sounded more stupid than asking to use the lavatory.
She didn’t stay. She went into the garden behind the house and walked down to the euphemistically named ty bach – little house – and stayed a moment, combing her hair and wishing it was fair and curly instead of straight and black. She examined her face in the speckly mirror and pretended the freckles were in fact marks on the glass, wishing she had bothered to smear a little lipstick on her lips.
When she came out, the girl was talking to Peter’s father over near the chicken house and Peter was waiting for her in the kitchen.
‘Peter,’ she said, wrapping her scarf tightly around her head. ‘I don’t think I should write to you any more. Freddy doesn’t like it and as I’ve asked him not to write to Shirley, who was only a friend, it seems only fair,’ she lied.
‘What harm were we doing, getting to know each other better?’
‘You know how painful jealousy can be,’ she said, glancing towards the pretty young girl.
‘I understand jealousy,’ he said slowly. ‘I’m extremely jealous of the time you spend writing to Freddy. Are you sure you want to stop writing to me? I don’t know how I’ll bear it, Bethan.’
‘It’s the best thing to do,’ she said, with the conviction that she was being more stupid than at any time during her life.
Her dismay gave her face an expression of stubbornness and Peter stared at her for long moments before saying, ‘Of course. I understand. You love Freddy and I have to accept that. I’ll miss your letters enormously. They were the highlight of my week.’ He stepped towards her but she moved away, unable to trust herself. She was afraid to look at him; he would surely see in her face the tumult of her emotions.
‘Goodbye,’ she said, stepping towards the door.
‘If you should change your mind, Beth, I’d be so happy,’ he replied.
She hadn’t realised just how strong an emotion jealousy could be. Beside the sick feeling that hadn’t gone away, she felt as though her racing heart would explode with the agony of it. Peter and that fairy doll of a girl. Imagine her feeding the donkeys on a wet and windy hillside, Beth thought. She’d still manage to look beautiful.
There was a letter waiting for her when she reached home, and she recognised the writing as Freddy’s. It was longer than usual and she took it to her room to sit in privacy and read it. It said he thought they should end their engagement, as he was seeing rather a lot of Shirley and thought he and she were better suited.
Beth was still staring at the words when there was a knock at the door. Shirley Downs stood there.
‘I think we ought to talk about Freddy,’ Shirley said.
‘Don’t worry, Shirley. I’ve had a letter that makes everything clear. He’s right, you’ll make him happier than I ever would,’ Beth said, trying to keep her voice steady.
‘I don’t suppose you’ll ever like me, but I hope we can be friends, if only for Maude and Myrtle’s sake,’ Shirley went on.
‘They aren’t guilty of any of what went on between my family and yours. Even Mam can see that, and I think she’ll be able to get to know them once the pain of finding them has eased.’
‘Let’s meet in a day or so and take the girls somewhere where we can talk,’ Beth suggested, forcing a smile.
There was nothing to be gained by being bitter. The end of her engagement to Freddy was completely painless. At least, it would have been if she hadn’t been so determined to tell Peter goodbye, she thought sadly as Shirley left.
She had to get out of the house so she went to talk to the girls. When she got back her father was there. She went straight to the kitchen and shut herself in, afraid of interrupting what might be an attempt at reconciliation.
* * *
Marged and Huw at last began to talk to each other. With so much to do before the opening of the new season, common sense had prevailed. Marged’s first act of surrender was to arrange for the new signs. The Pipers were all gone; even Audrey was now Mrs Wilf Thomas. The new name would show proudly above each of their businesses.
Lilly was given the task of dealing with the laundry and the daily ordering of fresh food, a side of the business previously dealt with by Moll. She agreed, but hoped that the baby would excuse her from most of it by being born so conveniently in May when the season started.
Beth had watched through a crack in the door with her fingers crossed that first day when her parents had begun to communicate, and heard her father say, ‘Most importantly, we’ll listen to each other, won’t we, Marged?’ He was smiling but there was a threat in his glinting eyes and the stiffness of his lips. ‘All of us. We’ll all have our say; the Castle family is a strong, unbeatable team.’
A rota was arranged for washing woodwork and painting, especially the helter-skelter, which would proudly bear the colours red, white and blue. The new season was rapidly approaching, but although relieved that her parents were talking again, Beth was unable to involve herself in the excitement.
She had told Peter she didn’t love him out of misplaced loyalty. Now it was up to her to try to put things right.
* * *
She met Mr Gregory, who told her that Peter was leaving on the nine o’clock train the following morning, and she decided to try and see him. If she could just write to him again, and continue to watch for the postman with such hope, that would be better than nothing. She stood at the station, trying to decide what she would say and how she would say it. She remembered Freddy’s first departure and his first leave and wondered how this railway station meeting would end.
Peter came on his father’s cart, his father driving, while Peter sat beside him writing something on a pad of paper.
‘I just wanted to say goodbye properly, Peter,’ she told him when, with a great smile, he jumped off the cart and ran to where she was waiting. ‘I will still write, if you want me to, and if Diana doesn’t mind. I wouldn’t want to do anything to spoil things.’
‘Diana? She’s a customer of Dad’s, Beth! There’s nothing there to spoil, and as for writing, I’ve just started a letter to you, begging you not to abandon me.’ He handed her the piece of paper on which he had written, ‘Darling Beth, please tell Freddy goodbye, and marry me.’
With only a few moments before the train was due to leave, they hugged and kissed and promised to write every day. Peter said, ‘We’ll marry as soon as the war is over and I’ve set up my employment agency.’
‘Not before? But what if things change?’
‘If I die, you mean? You’d rather be my widow than my loving friend?’
‘Oh Peter, I didn’t mean that! Please, don’t die. I meant that you’ll be away from me and might meet someone else.’
‘I don’t need anyone else. All I need is to imagine you on the beach, helping everyone suffering because of this terrible war to relax and have a good time.’
Their parting was swift and painful, the kiss harsh and greedy and they were breathless as Peter turned and waved to his father who was waiting with the pony and cart to take Beth home.
‘Peter and I—’ she began to explain.
He interrupted with, ‘An’ about time too.’
Waiting for Yesterday
One
In the Welsh seaside town of St David’s Well during the month of April 1941 there was a mood of growing irritation. Everyday objects were becoming scarce and making do and doing without was developing into a routine that people still found difficult to accept.
Cigarettes and, to a lesser degree, pipe tobacco were strictly under the counter reserved for regulars. Sausages were changing their contents to contain less meat and more bread as the rationing made itself felt. People spent more of their time shopping, joining queues and hoping for something interesting to place on their tables. Families were reduced in number by the increasingly urgent conscription of men, and girls danced with girls at the local dances.
Several engagements were broken due to the unsettling effect of the war. Girls coped with the absence of a partner for a while in a limbo of half-made plans and half-made promises, then, on discovering the freedom to please themselves and the advantages of extra money provided by the factories still advertising for bench hands, began to enjoy managing alone.
Men conveniently forgot their promises and found distractions while away from everything familiar and gave in to the temptation of what was offered. Long-standing plans for marriages that would have been relatively content, were forgotten, many with sighs of relief.
At the same time many couples were marrying after a very brief courtship. Life was precarious, happiness short-lived and the growing attitude among young people was to live for the day. Older people shook their heads and said these marriages wouldn’t last but the young knew that for many of them, they wouldn’t live long enough to prove or disprove the sceptics.
Shirley Downs, who worked in a newsagent and tobacconist shop, lost interest in Freddy Clements as soon as he was sent to join the fighting in some secret location overseas. While he still had the occasional leave to brighten her life she had written to him and even promised to wait for him, but the war was dragging on and she didn’t fancy living the life of a nun while the war continued, maybe for another year. The most fun she’d had with him had been taking him away from the boring Beth Castle just weeks before they were to marry.