After a word with Huw and Marged, Bleddyn dropped a note through Alice’s door inviting her to visit them.
Alice was anxious about her father. He was becoming more restless, unable to sit for more than a few minutes and unable to sleep through the night no matter how late he stayed up. Alice had been to the doctor to get pills for him but these he had irritably thrown on the back of the fire.
He was often up during the night and early one morning she had been woken by the smell of burning, to find that he had gone back to bed leaving a frying pan containing bacon on the gas cooker. The tea towel, then peeling wallpaper had caught fire and she had battled alone to prevent the whole room being destroyed.
She kept most of the worries to herself, but he threatened the postman, who then refused to make any more deliveries, then punched her when she complained. Bleddyn saw the bruises on her upper arms and persuaded her to tell him what had happened.
‘He wasn’t always like this,’ she excused sadly. ‘So kind and gentle he was, except in the ring of course. Then that blow to the head changed him and now, I don’t know what to do to please him.’ She choked against tears. ‘I want to please him but I don’t know how.’
Bleddyn had a word with the doctor but Colin could be calm and lucid when he needed to be, and gave the impression of being in control. The doctor told him that unless Colin did something really violent, or they could see that his life or the life of Alice was in danger, they couldn’t do anything. Bleddyn made Alice promise to let him know if things got out of hand again. He was helpless, at present, to do more. He wrote and explained the situation to his nephew Eynon.
* * *
Once the shock and the shame of Shirley’s accident began to fade from his mind, Joseph considered the situation. He talked to the nurses and the doctors, telling them he was Shirley’s fiancee and trying to assess her recovery. Somewhat reassured, imagining that once she recovered her mobility she would be ready to forget the stage, settle for being a wife and mother, he began calling at the hospital every day and, although she refused to see him, he left gifts of flowers and sweets and an occasional cake.
One day, convinced she was strong enough emotionally to cope, Shirley told the nurse she would talk to him.
He walked in almost hidden under the parcels he carried. Handing them to the nurse, he bent over Shirley’s bed and kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘Thank you for agreeing to talk to me,’ he said as he sat beside her. ‘I didn’t blame you for refusing, but I desperately need to explain.’
‘You almost had me killed,’ she said harshly.
‘I wanted to talk to you, nothing more. I wouldn’t have hurt you, Shirley, you know how I feel about you. I thought I was doing what was best for you, I really did.’
‘Oh, you weren’t thinking about yourself? Me giving up all ambition and spending my life looking after you?’
He looked down, reached out for her hand. ‘Would that be such a terrible thing?’
‘Yes, it would!’ She didn’t intend to give him an inch. ‘I have a talent and you can’t live with that.’
‘I love you and I want to look after you.’
‘I’m not ready for love. I want to get out of this bed and get on with my career.’
He looked startled. ‘Get on with what? Surely you can’t still expect to sing and dance? Not after this? You’ll have to forget short skirts! Any ideas you had of a stage career were destroyed when you crushed your leg!’
The words, a cruel reminder of what she had lost, made her rage spill over. ‘The injuries you caused! No, Joseph, nothing will stop me! And your determination to make me change my mind just gives me more determination to get strong again.’ She rang the bell for the nurse and shouted. ‘Go away and don’t come back! You might as well have killed me. I hate you as I’ve never hated before.’
The nurse ran towards the bed and Joseph didn’t need a repetition of Shirley’s angry shouts to know he had to leave.
Maude and Myrtle came soon after and were alarmed to see Shirley is such a state of despair. Nervously they sat, one each side of her, offered her the flowers they had brought and slowly she calmed down.
They talked to her about the jobs they were doing, Maude in the factory canteen and the undersized Myrtle delivering on her huge bike.
‘You don’t look strong enough to ride one of those,’ Shirley said, trying to take an interest in the chatter when all she wanted to do was bury her head in her pillow and cry.
‘I am too small really, but I’m getting better. I ride downhill now with my feet off the pedals an’ all,’ Myrtle said proudly. Even in her depressed mood, the vision made Shirley smile.
‘I’m more afraid of Alice Potter’s father than riding the bike,’ the girl went on. She described the man’s behaviour, more to make Shirley laugh than because of her worries.
‘You make sure you tell Bleddyn,’ Shirley said. ‘Mam told me he was a bit strange. Eynon asked his uncle to look out for Alice.’
‘He can deliver there for me if he likes,’ Myrtle said cheekily. ‘He’s a bit bigger than me. Just a bit!’
* * *
Bleddyn and Hetty had arranged their wedding for Friday 12 December and they met at the register office at eleven o’clock in the morning. Hetty was wearing a simple cream dress under a camel coat, with a spray of tiny button chrysanthemums on her lapel. The cream dress was summer weight but she didn’t have anything warmer that was smart enough for this special day. Beth had chosen a forest-green suit under which she wore a smart cream blouse. Over her arm was a coat in camel the same as the bride’s and they laughed at the coincidence as they approached each other.
In the fashion of the time both women wore hats. There was a dry-cleaners in the town where hats could be reblocked and remodelled and they had both used this service to great effect. Long feathers taken from an abandoned hat had been set on a turned-back rim to make Beth’s into a ‘Robin Hood’ style and Hetty’s had a spray of flowers covered by a short veil. Bleddyn told them he was proud of his two special women on his special day.
The small wedding party walked back to Bleddyn’s house in Brook Lane and had a snack before separating to go on with their daily routines, Bleddyn to open the chip shop for the lunchtime session, and Hetty to continue preparing the downstairs front room for her daughter’s arrival.
Beth and Ronnie returned to the market, Beth to the café where she had left her sister Lilly in charge for the short time she would be away. Ronnie made his way to the greengrocery stall where his wife, Olive, and their baby were holding the fort.
There was no sign of Lilly when Beth reached the café. A long line of impatient customers were waiting and a harassed Sally, from a nearby fruit stall, was trying to cope. Without waiting for an explanation, Beth thanked her and took over, swiftly dealing with the queue. In a lull, and after making tea for Ronnie and Olive and for Sally to thank her for her help, she asked what had happened to Lilly.
‘She asked me to look out for five minutes while she went somewhere,’ Sally told her. ‘That was an hour ago and we haven’t seen her since!’
Beth fumed silently. Her sister Lilly had never been enthusiastic about work but she hadn’t expected her to walk off and leave the café unattended.
For the next hour she was busy preparing the meals she had planned, thankful that she had put a casserole and a fish pie in the oven to keep warm while she had been away. A huge pan of potatoes chopped small was soon boiling ready to mash, and tinned carrots and tinned peas were simmering.
Lilly came in breathlessly at one o’clock full of apologies.
‘I was rushed off my feet,’ she said before Beth could speak. ‘I ran to fetch Mrs Denver to help me.’ She gestured behind her to where Mrs Denver was hurrying towards them.
‘I was only gone an hour. What did you want Mrs Denver for?’ Beth demanded, as she juggled with dishes, serving two people at once.
‘Desperate it was. I couldn’t possibly manage on my own, not with dinne
rs to watch an’ all,’ Lilly said, holding out her hand for customers’ payments as Beth served meals. Behind them in the confined space. Mrs Denver squeezed in and began sorting out the dishes.
‘Thank you. Mrs Denver, but we can manage now,’ Beth said kindly. She could hardly blame the woman for coming when Lilly had asked.
‘It’s no trouble and hardly worth the rush if I don’t do something to help.’
Irritable now, Beth thought that if she expected payment it would come out of what she had promised Lilly.
Mrs Denver seemed to know instinctively where everything was kept and what was expected of her. She knew where to find the utensils and managed to wash dishes as they went along, so they didn’t pile up as a long tedious task at the end of the busy lunch hour. Beth often found a plate in her hand before asking for one. If only Lilly were like that, what a boon she would be. Before she left, the efficient lady even mixed batter using duck eggs from Ronnie’s stall and made some drop scones to sell during the afternoon.
* * *
Over past weeks, Freddy’s letters had been more regular and Shirley guessed he was home rather than abroad. When he turned up at the hospital to visit her she understood why. He wore a large bandage on his shoulder which, he told her, had been shattered by a bomb fragment.
‘A right pair of old crocks we are,’ he said as he bent to kiss her. ‘We’d look right on a mantelpiece, like a pair of comic bookends.’
That visit and others over the days that followed lightened her spirits like nothing else had. And once, when Joseph tried to see her. Freddy told him loudly and with complete authority to ‘Clear off!’
‘Cheeky sod, coming here,’ he muttered as Joseph left. ‘Don’t know how he’s got the nerve.’
When he went back to camp, Shirley was stronger in spirit and looking forward to going home. It was only then that her mother told her about her marriage. Shirley had been so depressed that Hetty had been afraid the news would upset her. Now her only complaint was that she had missed the occasion.
‘D’you know, Mam, I haven’t used one of my clothing coupons yet and there’s you letting me miss the chance of buying something new!’
‘I might have to borrow some,’ Hetty teased. ‘Mine have almost gone. Stockings, some underwear and handkerchiefs on top of a new coat. I used the same dress I bought last summer, mind, so I wasn’t too wasteful.’
‘Take as many as you need,’ Shirley offered. ‘I won’t be buying clothes until I can walk into the shop and choose them.’
Hetty kissed her, hoping the sadness she felt wasn’t visible on her face. No one could be certain yet, but Shirley might be in a wheelchair for a very long time.
The room in which they planned for Shirley to sleep had been repapered in a bright floral design. The single bed was covered in a Welsh blanket in cream and greens, the rug on the floor had been specially made by Eirlys to match, and the addition of some pictures gave the place a cheerful ambience that they thought Shirley would appreciate.
* * *
Hannah wrote letters too. Besides writing to Johnny, she wrote to her parents although they lived in the same town. She called on them regularly, sometimes with the children and sometimes alone. Her parents made it clear they didn’t welcome her visits and would look up and down the road as though embarrassed at inviting her inside. No matter what she said, or however she steered the conversation, they did not want news of Johnny and reminded her frequently that she was a wicked woman living in sin. She determinedly persevered, believing that one day they would forgive her for not being the kind of daughter they wanted. Surely they wouldn’t deprive themselves of their granddaughters for always?
Every Christmas she hoped that the good will would soften their hearts but this year was going to be like all the rest, with not even a card to wish Josie and Marie a happy time.
* * *
Christmas passed pleasantly enough for Shirley, with Hetty, Bleddyn and the rest of the family doing what they could to share it with her but she was relieved when it was over.
January, with its ice and snow, was welcomed as the month in which she would go home.
On the day of her homecoming Beth and Eirlys had both brought flowers, cut and potted: Chrysanthemums, a sweet-scented daphne and a scented stephanotis for outside her window, plus a pot of daffodils already spearing their way through the soil. These had been recommended by Beth’s father-in-law Bernard Gregory, a keen grower of flowers, besides the vegetables with which he earned his keep.
Janet was due to present herself at the NAAFI canteen just a few days before Shirley came out of hospital. Leaving the café had not been easy. She knew she was pulling up her life by the roots and had nowhere else to begin to set them down again. Unless Beth could keep the café going for her, there would be nothing to go back to. And where would she spend her leave when it came? She hadn’t be able to afford to pay rent on the flat, and it was now someone else’s home. So where would she go? She had kept her worries to herself. She knew several friends would be sympathetic and offer their homes as a base but she didn’t want to be a nuisance. Somehow it would work itself out.
Since she had left the children’s home she had managed on her own, so this wasn’t as difficult as it might be for others, she told herself. Independence was a hard lesson learned young. She was leaving good friends, but she would make others. Everyone she met from now on would be in the same position and as anxious to become friends as she was. She tried to imagine it as a great adventure, and planned to write amusing letters to Shirley and Beth and the others and make pretend she was having fun. She wouldn’t think of Ken at all.
Beth had been so kind taking over the café and keeping it going for when she returned, if she ever did. Beth had promised to keep in touch and report to her on the progress of the café.
‘When you come back I’ll find a place for you,’ Beth had promised. ‘Us Castles know everybody. You won’t have any difficulty finding somewhere to live and when you’re on leave you can stay with Mam; she told me to invite you. She’d love to have you. She hates rattling around in the empty house, she said.’
Janet thanked her but thought she wouldn’t accept. Once she went away she’d stay away until the war ended and she was demobbed along with everyone else. Trying to cling on to the town and her friends would only make the parting worse. And she daren’t risk meeting Ken.
She left early one morning after packing away all her possessions and giving them to be sold to raise funds for Red Cross parcels for prisoners of war.
She was stationed at an aerodrome which was home to a squadron of Spitfires. She was introduced to the manager who gave her a set of keys, showed her where the stores were kept, pointed out the importance of keeping the books carefully, and left her to discover the rest for herself.
As she later wrote to Shirley, she then spent an hour fidgeting and poking until she knew where everything was kept and what utensils and stores were available. The rest of the staff soon arrived and looked to her to do the cooking, pointing out that the first break, at which the men and women would expect tea sandwiches and cakes, was at eleven o’clock. ‘I then made the fastest rock cakes on record,’ she reported to her friends. There were counters to fill and the tea trolleys with the urns of tea, which a couple of the counter hands usually took to the hangars, to be filled and made ready. At the end of the first day, Janet realised that she would not have a lot of time to grieve for Ken and everything else she had left behind. For this she was grateful, she told herself as she fell, exhausted, into her bunk.
* * *
Eirlys was surprised when Ken arrived a couple of days after Janet’s departure, unaware of her leaving.
‘She’s joined the NAAFI? Why has she done that?’ he demanded. ‘I thought she was going to join our concert party?’
‘She’s obviously changed her mind,’ Eirlys replied irritably. ‘Look. I have to go. I’m on duty at the ARP station at seven.’
‘A nice welcome home! Can�
�t you spare a few hours out of your busy life to spend with your husband?’ he asked with equal irritation.
‘I might have if my husband had greeted me like a wife instead of demanding to know where Janet is!’
‘I went straight to the market café because I have a booking next week and thought she’d help.’
‘Sorry, but I don’t sing or dance.’
‘No, more’s the pity,’ he muttered. ‘Well, if you’re off out I might as well go and see some of my friends.’
‘Good idea,’ Eirlys said sharply as she picked up her thick winter coat and left. She walked around the street for a while to hide her distress. What had happened to their marriage? It wasn’t fair to blame Janet; she was responsible for her own marriage. If she and Ken had drifted, she had allowed it to happen. And Ken had to take some responsibility too.
The meeting place was in the school and, although they had suffered few air raids and those nothing more frightening than seeing enemy planes flying overhead, they were meticulous about fire-watching and making sure lights were extinguished at sundown. Recognising one town would help navigators to find others.
She went in and when the others had dispersed to their various look-out points, she filled the water boiler ready to make cocoa later on, then began to deal with some of the paperwork. A knock at the door interrupted her.
Adjusting the black-out curtain, she opened the door and Ken stepped in and took her in his arms.
‘Sorry, Eirlys. I’m very sorry. It’s been a terrible week. Two friends have been killed, another wounded, and I can’t forget Max.’
Her feelings were mixed as she held him and comforted him. She wanted to believe that everything was all right but a part of her wondered with concern whether his distress was not for lost friends, but the loss of Janet.
Holidays at Home Omnibus Page 85
