‘How are you?’ Hetty’s conventional greeting was to allow her time to gather her thoughts, but it went unanswered as Maude glanced towards Bleddyn.
‘Auntie Marged asked me to ask if you’d bring some fish and chips home tonight for a late supper,’ she said.
‘Tell Hetty what you need and I’ll bring it when I finish,’ Bleddyn said, disappearing into the back preparation room.
‘I’m sorry I was so unkind to you and Myrtle when we first met’, Hetty said, ‘I know I should have said this before, but knowing that my husband had a second family was a terrible shock. You’re old enough now to realise that, aren’t you?’
‘He was our dad and I don’t know anything about the time he lived with you,’ Maude said nervously.
‘I don’t intend to criticise him,’ Hetty promised. ‘I would like to talk about him sometimes, to tell you what he was like and perhaps you can tell me a little about the years he spent with you.’
‘Come and see us at Auntie Marged’s,’ Maude said in a spuriously adult tone. ‘I’d like to know what he was like before he was our dad.’ She added softly, ‘We miss him something awful, me and Myrtle.’
‘I’ll ask Marged when it’s convenient,’ Hetty said.
When Bleddyn reappeared, she said sadly, ‘I can see so much that was Paul in that girl’s face; her eyes are like his and something about the mouth.’
‘I’d like to think you can be friends, you and Shirley, Maude and Myrtle,’ Bleddyn said, smiling.
* * *
Hetty had once worked alongside her daughter in the newsagent but when a new owner arrived he had kept Shirley on and managed the rest of the time himself. He had no objection to Hetty filling in for her daughter when Shirley needed a few hours off and it was becoming a regular event for Hetty to be there late on Wednesday afternoon, when they reopened on the half-day to deal with the evening newspaper deliveries. Her hours working for the Castle family at the beach were varied, and it was easy for her to arrange to be at the shop when Shirley needed her.
It was also on Wednesdays that the market closed for the afternoon. After the encouragement given by Max when he heard them sing, Janet and Shirley had arranged weekly singing lessons and spent the rest of the afternoon practising songs and also some dance steps to go with the popular songs of the time.
‘In The Mood’, the signature tune of Joe Loss, was a current favourite and the version they danced to was the Glen Miller recording. Full of enthusiasm and energy they fitted their steps to the lively melody, making much of the stops and restarts near the end. Hetty smiled and hoped they would at least be successful enough to have some fun.
Hetty was in the shop one Wednesday when Bleddyn called. ‘Oh, this is what you do when you “mitch” from work, is it?’ he teased, his strong, bearded jaw thrust forward as though in disapproval.
‘Mitching is it? I’ll have you know, Mr Castle, that I worked from dawn to get your café smart and fit for business,’ she said, then laughed to show she was teasing too.
‘Your Shirley gone to her singing class?’ he asked.
‘I don’t suppose it will lead to anything but I want them to try. At least they’ll have a few laughs.’
‘From what I hear they’re very good. Dancing as well as singing. They need a name for themselves though. Shirley Downs and Janet Copp doesn’t roll off the tongue. What about the Beach Belles or the Sand Swingers?’
‘You’re probably right. I’ll suggest it when they come home. They usually come back here and practise some more.’ She shook her head. ‘I wish I had their energy.’
‘So do I! We’ve been extra busy. Young Beth arranged to take the weekend off for her wedding and she’s so disappointed with the cancellation she took a few days off anyway. You don’t know how much one girl does until you have to cope a day without her. Grand girl, my niece Beth.
I’m going home to change, then off to the chip shop to work till eleven. What a life, eh?’
‘I’ll help if you like, once the shop closes,’ Hetty offered. ‘I can serve fish and chips or work in the café.’
It didn’t take Bleddyn long to agree.
* * *
Morgan Price walked home from his factory shift. It was two thirty and he was hungry. When Eirlys’s mother was alive, she would have been there with a meal freshly cooked, waiting for him in a neat, orderly house. Life with Teresa was not the same as with Annie. He loved Teresa, or thought he did – he certainly liked the way she filled his bed – but she didn’t know the first thing about running a home. The only thing she could cook was boiled potatoes, and the only variation from that was chips from the chip shop. She didn’t know and didn’t want to learn. If only Eirlys would come back to look after them all, then everything would be perfect.
‘I heard your Eirlys was home for the weekend and she never came to see you.’ was Teresa’s greeting as he walked through the door. ‘Unkind I call that, Morgan, love. Here, you make a cup of tea and I’ll open a packet of biscuits. The boys’ll finish them off if we don’t help ourselves before they get home. Devils for biscuits they are.’
‘Eirlys home?’ He frowned. ‘I wonder why she didn’t let us know?’
‘Easy to answer that one, Morgan. She can’t bear seeing you happy, that’s why. She thinks you should go on grieving for her mother for the rest of your natural.’
‘Come on, Teresa, Eirlys isn’t that petty-minded, but I think we are the problem. She hasn’t got over how fast we got together.’
‘Like I said, hates seein’ you ’appy.
‘No, I didn’t mean—’ He gave up and asked instead, ‘Is there anything cooking?’
‘I haven’t had a minute all day. Morgan. I was upset, hearing about your daughter treating you like that and I forgot about food. Come ‘ere, and let me cheer you up, eh?’ She opened her arms but he turned away, something he was doing more and more frequently.
‘I can’t think of that. I want to think of a way to bring Eirlys home,’ he said.
‘’Ome? ’ome ‘ere? You can’t mean it, two women in the kitchen, that’ll never work!’
In a rare burst of anger, he said, ‘Two women in the kitchen’? One would be a novelty!’
Teresa shouted back in anger and within moments they were having a raging row, he accusing Teresa of being lazy and Teresa telling him she was not there as a drudge. He laughed at that and the row ended in seconds.
‘Anything less like a drudge than you is hard to imagine,’ he said, hugging her. ‘Beautiful you are and I don’t think St David’s Well has ever seen anything like you before. I’m the envy of all my mates.’
‘Come on then, show me off, make ’em all jealous. Take me out and treat me to something nice.’
She was dressed in a smart two-piece suit in black, the skirt a fraction shorter than fashion dictated, with a red blouse, red shoes and a silly little black hat on top of her curled hair. Her make-up was always immaculate if a trifle heavy, and she turned heads wherever they went. He had never seen her less than perfectly dressed and admired her for it. Even at night she wore expensive nightgowns and a small amount of make-up on her smooth skin. But why couldn’t she combine her attractiveness with a few housewifely skills?
It was about the lack of activity in the kitchen that Morgan wanted to talk to Eirlys. He wasn’t having any decent meals except when they ate out and with five of them to pay for, the money didn’t allow for that to happen very often. Aware that she was dressed to go out, he belatedly asked, ‘Where were you going when I came home – somewhere special? You look very nice. Too nice for shopping.’
‘I thought of calling for that Hetty Downs to go to the pictures. You don’t mind do you, Morgan? I was going a bit early to look at some dresses, but if you fancy a bit of a rest, and spare half an hour?’ She tilted her head and looked at him provocatively and he smiled.
She was lovely and by the time he had washed and changed the boys would be on their way home. He would have spoilt her afternoon.
> ‘Go on, you, enjoy yourself.’
After she had gone he went to the pantry to see what he could find and was disappointed to see that the cupboard was practically empty. He would have to go shopping before the boys came home from school. They couldn’t eat from the chip shop again. He dug deep into his pocket and found enough to buy potatoes and carrots and a few items from the cake shop. There wasn’t any meat and he decided to appeal to the butcher and get a few scraps to add a bit of taste to the gravy. Searching through his pockets he found an extra three shillings in mixed change and he set off. He managed to buy two meat and potato pies. Half each would have to do for Teresa and the boys tomorrow. He would eat in the canteen if he could borrow from a friend or raise an advance on his wages again. Today they would have eggs.
He handed his wages to Teresa each week less a little pocket money for himself, as he had with Annie, but he had a suspicion that the money was not stretching to Teresa’s spending. If only Eirlys would come home and run the household or teach Teresa to do so, he would be a very happy man. In the meantime, he was worried about the scrap meals he was offered, and bills that arrived and which were swiftly snatched away before he could examine them. He was beginning to realise they were in deep water and it was getting deeper.
He knew he should take control. After Annie died he had managed to cook a few simple meals for himself and he knew that with a little advice from friends and neighbours he could cook on a regular basis, but Teresa refused his help. The ingredients he needed were never available, and the ration of items like butter and cooking fat and sugar rarely lasted the week. If only Eirlys would come home, she would have everything sorted in a couple of weeks.
He went to see Bernard Gregory, who explained about Eirlys’s unexpected visit to attend the wedding of his son, Peter, to Beth Castle: the wedding that never happened. Morgan didn’t want to think about it. His daughter had come home and hadn’t called. He had never imagined such a thing could happen. Everything in his life was a mess. He was having to choose between Teresa and the boys and his daughter, it seemed.
He bought a dozen eggs, and, when Teresa came home, he made them all some scrambled eggs on toast with the addition of a few tomatoes and a few leftover potatoes warmed under the grill. Stanley ate his and half of Harold’s and when Percival complained that there was skin on his tomatoes and brown bits in the egg, he ate his too.
‘What’s for afters?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Bread an’ jam!’ Teresa retorted.
‘I ’aves a bit o’ bover with bread an’ jam. There’s pips and I ’ates pips. I only like puddin’s.’ Percival complained. ‘Unless you takes the crusts off.’
Morgan sighed. He had to find a solution and quick, or the boys would go down with rickets! He took out pen and paper to write to Eirlys again. It was time for some honesty.
* * *
Joseph Beynon went to the dances and often saw Shirley there, recently with Janet Copp. He never asked her to dance and, unless they actually came face to face, he ignored her. He was still angry at the way she had treated him. One night she left early complaining of an upset stomach and when Max Moon came looking for her he saw Joseph and, recognising him as a friend of Shirley’s, asked him to convey a message to her.
‘I have an audition arranged for Shirley and Janet next Wednesday. Well, a competition really but there’s an agent who promises to be there and I think they should be heard. I’m just off to the station. Would you call in to the shop and give her this?’ He handed Joseph a sheet of paper. ‘It’s the venue and time and how to get there.’ Hardly acknowledging Joseph’s doubtful expression, he thanked him and dashed off to catch his train. Joseph read the information and tucked it in his pocket.
Walking home he argued with himself about whether or not he would deliver the message. It was utterly unkind not to and, he told himself, it wasn’t in his nature to behave badly, but she had been more than unkind to him, treating him with such indifference when they had gone to the dance together. He threw it on to the pavement and scuffed it with his foot and walked on home. Then conscience struck and he turned around, picked it up and wiped it clean.
He went into the shop where Shirley was serving someone with a birthday card.
Waiting patiently, he watched her as she dealt with the customer. Quick, efficient with a smile for everyone.
‘Hi yer,’ she called cheerily as though they had never had a disagreement. She always thought it best to forget arguments as soon as they were over. No point lumbering yourself with guilt. She eyed him nervously though, afraid perhaps that he was going to make a scene. Amused by her embarrassment, he waited for her to speak.
‘Joseph, I’ve been meaning to call and apologise,’ she said, her face glowing a little as she looked at him with her special smile. ‘I was very stupid and rude leaving you at the dance. I did look for you to explain but in the crush at the end I lost sight of you and—’
‘You left before the end,’ he said mildly.
‘What a mistake that was,’ she said, ignoring the challenge to her lies. ‘This soldier said he was with ENSA and could get me an audition. Promised me a tour with some professionals he did. And there was me foolish enough to believe him. I’ll never be that stupid again, Joseph. Fancy the Wednesday dance?’
‘You can’t go on Wednesday,’ he said, handing her the grubby note. ‘Your friend, Max Moon, asked me to deliver it,’ he explained.
‘Lucky you aren’t as unkind as me, or you might have thrown it away,’ she said, unpeeling it with difficulty in its fragile state.
‘I did throw it down,’ he admitted. ‘Then I thought that wasn’t the action of an honest person, and picked it up again.’
She read the note and her face flushed again, this time with excitement. ‘It’s an audition! Me and Janet!’ She did a whirl and added more calmly, ‘Well, an amateur night competition really but there’ll be an agent there and this might be a big step forward for us, if he likes us, of course.’ In her excitement she grabbed hold of Joseph and danced around the shop.
Trying to hide his pleasure, he said, ‘If you like I’ll come with you. You won’t want to be travelling home alone late at night, will you?’
‘Thanks, Joseph, Mam will be more willing if you come with us.’
* * *
‘No! You don’t go!’ Hetty said firmly. ‘Certainly not with that Joseph Beynon who upset you when he brought you home from the dance!’
Too late, Shirley remembered the lie she had told to cover her stupidity at walking home with the unknown soldier. It was a long time before she could convince Hetty that she had not told the truth about the soldier walking her home. Hetty threatened to see Joseph and his parents to hear the story from him. Fortunately he came into the shop just then and he didn’t try to cover up for Shirley. He told the truth convincingly, so it was agreed that he should escort the two girls to the audition.
‘Stick to the truth,’ he said to Shirley when her mother left them to make their arrangements. ‘You aren’t clever enough to lie! If you don’t want to tell it, don’t. Right?’
Looking suitably contrite, Shirley nodded.
Shirley and Janet were experienced at competitions by this time and they had learned to read an audience and chose their material to suit it. They rehearsed their songs but were prepared to change them and select others from their briefcase filled with song sheets at the last minute. With many older people filling the crowded hall they sang sentimental songs, old, well-loved favourites. They included one for the girls separated from their loved ones. ‘You Came Along, From Out of Nowhere’, which they knew would touch hearts.
It was a surprise to no-one when they were awarded the first prize.
They were invited to attend an audition for a concert to be given a few weeks later, and the following day, with Beth looking after the market café and Hetty at the shop, they arrived at a cold, empty room above a café.
They sat in the dingy place, huddling together for war
mth, and watched as a long stream of performers took to the stage and offered their talent. They were very poor. Most were comedians who stood and rattled off a long line of well-used jokes, with a few singers who lacked talent and murdered a few lovely melodies, and, unbelievably, a cornet player who lacked rhythm and constantly missed the notes. All stood waiting for applause from the other contenders, with hope on their faces.
‘I don’t think we should do this.’ Janet whispered. ‘I don’t think it will help us if we take part in a concert with this lot.’
Shirley stared at her friend, then nodded. Waving cheerily to the harassed man sorting out the hopeless from the downright impossibles, they headed for the toilets, then dashed to the door and made their escape.
‘I’ll kill Max when I see him next!’ Shirley said as they ran for the bus.
‘No. I want to do it!’
‘No, let me!’ They laughed helplessly most of the way home. Buoyant with confidence, they were aware that they had passed a certain level and were on the way up.
* * *
Huw and Marged’s youngest son, Eynon, was due home from the army prison where he had been punished for being absent without leave the year before. Marged was so excited at seeing him again she could hardly contain herself. Besides stocking up with as much food as she could buy, scrounge or swap for other things, she cleaned the house, and even made Huw paint the front door. It had been so long, yet in her mind was the picture of the sixteen-year-old, innocent boy she had last seen. Huw tried to warn her that he would have changed but she didn’t, couldn’t believe him. He was her baby and he was coming home.
Eynon Castle had joined the army before he had reached the age when conscription claimed him. In a mood of bravado, he and Freddy Clements, then engaged to his sister, Beth, had walked into the recruitment office and signed on as regulars.
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