Holidays at Home Omnibus

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

  Vera was in bed when he got back to Mrs Denver’s house in Queen Street. He felt let down, both because she had tried to ruin his happy mood and because she was not there when he needed to talk about the events that had followed.

  * * *

  Alice Potter left the sweet shop on the promenade and went to the bus stop. Twice each week she visited her father. Colin Potter had been a boxer and a blow to the head had caused brain damage which, besides making him totally off balance when he stood up, had increased his temper in an uncontrollable way. She had been going in the evenings but Audrey had given her an hour off once a week so she could see him in the daytime, when he would be sitting out on the balcony in the sun with several others. It was less distressing for Alice than seeing him in the ward, when the gloom of the place seemed to make him even more subdued than he already was by the effects of his medication.

  He didn’t appear to recognise his daughter. Since he had been in the hospital he had become more and more withdrawn and the only thing he said to her that made her think he actually knew she was there was to warn her there were to be no men in the house, something he repeated several times. Apart from the sharply spoken threat, he said nothing. He didn’t look at her but seemed to be concentrating on something far in the distance. She would sit and tell him all that had happened during the days since her last visit, but nothing aroused a response.

  * * *

  Eirlys sat with the sewing basket on her lap, working her way through the boys’ clothes, getting them ready for school the following day. Buttons missing, a tear in the corner of a pocket when they had forced some treasure into it. Sleeves that had been taken up and now needed to be let down as their second owner had grown. The pile seemed endless, but she was glad to have something to do. Sitting waiting for Ken to explain would have been worse without something to occupy her.

  ‘If it’s another woman I want to know,’ she had said quietly, but Ken had only shaken his head. Questioning was only possible when her father was out of the room. Sensing their need to talk, Morgan had excused himself and gone to bed early, armed with a book and two Sunday papers.

  ‘I’m going out,’ Ken said, pushing aside the Radio Times, which he had been pretending to read.

  ‘Where? It’s half-past nine. If you want a drink Dad has a couple of flagons of beer in the pantry.’

  ‘I don’t want a drink. I need to get out and do some thinking.’

  ‘So it is a woman?’

  No reply, only a snatched overcoat and a slammed door.

  Morgan came back down in his dressing gown, his face freshly scrubbed and shining. ‘Is there anything wrong, love?’

  ‘No, Dad. Go back to bed and I’ll bring up some cocoa. Ken’s worried about something, that’s all.’

  ‘Some problem with this big concert he’s booked, is it? Some act let him down?’

  Cynically she replied. ‘No, Dad. It’s more likely he’s double-booked.’ She laughed harshly at her poor joke and didn’t explain.

  * * *

  Ken went to Brook Lane, where Bleddyn Castle lived with Hetty and Hetty’s daughter, Shirley. It was Shirley he wanted to see.

  When Shirley and Janet had begun to make a name for themselves as singers and dancers, Janet had known that Shirley had the greater talent and would rise higher than she ever would. She had not been envious, just willing to help her friend achieve her goal. But then an accident had ended Shirley’s dancing career and for a long time had prevented her appearing on stage; Janet and Ken had spent more and more time together and had fallen in love. The effect of Shirley’s accident had spread far wider than she could have imagined. It wasn’t only her whose life had been changed because of it.

  ‘Janet and I have been seeing each other and I don’t know what to do,’ he told Shirley when they were alone.

  ‘Seeing her? Are we talking euphemisms here?’

  ‘All right, we’re having an affair.’

  ‘End it, or tell Eirlys and help her face it,’ Shirley said sharply. ‘If you came here expecting sympathy you’ve wasted your time!’

  ‘I can’t do either of those things. I need Janet, I want her in my life. As for telling Eirlys, how can I? She’s having a baby in a few months.’

  ‘Yes, your baby! Eirlys is the injured party here and you know what you have to do, don’t you? You have to face up to it, Ken; you’re committed to Eirlys and to being a father to the child when it arrives. There’ll be plenty of children born without a father, thanks to this war. And plenty of women having to face their husbands when they return and explaining a child born while they were away. Can you let your child face something like that? No excuse of war conditions for you, is there? So much misery and there’s you thinking about adding to it.’ She looked at him, his head bent, shoulders drooped, utterly miserable. ‘What does Janet think? She never mentions you in her letters to me.’

  ‘I have to see Janet because she takes part in some of the concerts I arrange.’

  ‘Have to see her? That’s rubbish and you know it. There are plenty of other singers you could use good as she undoubtedly is. No, you have to make up your mind before Eirlys guesses what’s going on and decides for you.’

  Ken thought that would be an easy way out. His wife telling him to leave would be a relief. He would make a home for Janet and everything would be perfect.

  ‘I don’t even like children,’ he said childishly. Then, ‘Can you imagine what a start we had, Eirlys and me? Living with her father would have been bad enough, but with those three boys as well, it’s impossible.’

  Shirley’s voice softened and she went on, ‘We’re all selfish to a degree, Ken. I know I’ve done things I’m ashamed of.’ She thought of the way she had coaxed Freddy Clements away from Beth without a qualm, but she didn’t mention that. Instead she said, ‘When Janet and I were starting out I put myself first when I shouldn’t have. I cheated on her by taking part in concerts without telling her, wanting the applause for myself alone. Yet she’s always been such a loyal friend, and she forgave me. I’d be pleased if this worked out for you and her but I can’t see it happening.’

  ‘Talking about being selfish, I’m aware that looking after her father and those dratted boys is very hard for Eirlys, and her job is a very complicated one. She does a lot more than me and grumbles far less. I admire her, but admiration isn’t enough. I still don’t want to be with her.’

  ‘You’re seriously thinking of leaving her, with all that and a baby to look after?’

  ‘You make me feel ashamed.’

  ‘Good! That’s a start. Now, if you’ll set out the cups I’ll make us a hot drink and you can go home and start telling yourself how you’re going to cope. And cope well enough to persuade Eirlys you’re happy.’

  ‘Tall order.’

  ‘Mm.’ She heaved herself out of her chair with the aid of a stick and went to the fire where a kettle was beginning to sing. ‘I didn’t think I would ever learn to accept not being able to dance again, but here I am, standing on stage, singing and pretending every day is a pleasure.’ She took some packets out of a cupboard and handed them to Ken. ‘You have a choice, Ken: Ovaltine or cocoa,’ she said with a grin.

  ‘Tea!’

  ‘If only your other decisions were that easy.’

  * * *

  A letter from his stepmother made Maldwyn decide to go home again. Winifred had fallen while trying to clean windows and was unable to get out. When he told Vera she agreed to go with him if she could get the time off from the café. The hours she worked were long and Marged agreed to her request.

  They left straight after the flower shop closed at one o’clock the following Wednesday. He sadly decided that it would be best if they didn’t call to see Delyth. If he was the target of the mysterious stranger, then it was safer for her if he stayed well away from her.

  He had told Vera about the events of that evening, and the police had called to Mrs Denver’s to ask him a few more questions. Their inquiry took an alar
ming turn when they began asking whether he had any involvement with criminals. Or could there be some activities in which he had become unintentionally involved? After all the questioning no one appeared to know why he and Delyth had been threatened in such a frightening way.

  ‘I wrote to Delyth and Madge to tell them we’d be coming to see them,’ Vera said, breaking into his thoughts as they got into the train.

  ‘I wish you hadn’t,’ he said. ‘You know Delyth was badly frightened when I was threatened last Sunday. I don’t think she’d want to be within miles of me after that.’

  ‘What are you worrying about, Maldwyn? Proper old woman you are sometimes. It was a mistake, wasn’t it? That’s what the police think. Unless you’ve got some terrible secret in your past you aren’t telling me about? Are you two up to no good in your spare time?’

  ‘It wasn’t funny. She was scared — she thought she was going to be seriously hurt. I thought so too.’

  ‘Aw, poor Maldwyn. How anyone could mistake you two for dangerous criminals I can’t imagine. More like Abbot and Costello if you ask me.’

  ‘You go and see her while I see what Mam needs me to do. I’ll meet you back at the station at five. We might be back in time for the late picture show.’

  ‘Goodbye, my enigmatic friend. Don’t be late or I’ll imagine you at the bottom of a mineshaft with a dozen knives in your back and a bomb up your jumper.’

  He smiled in spite of himself as he went into his step-mother’s house.

  Winifred was undoubtedly pleased to see him, and he spent the afternoon chatting to her between dealing with a list of jobs she found difficult to manage. He cleaned the windows, and ordered her not to touch them until he came again. Under her guidance he even managed to prepare a casserole of vegetables ready for her to eat the following day.

  Neighbours were kind, and he left confident that she would manage until the following week, when he would come again.

  Vera was at the station, with Delyth and Madge. Vera and Madge were laughing, Delyth was not. ‘Has anything happened?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘My mam is going to marry Uncle Trev,’ Delyth wailed.

  Maldwyn sighed with relief. For a moment he had imagined another incident like the lorry and the attack near the café.

  ‘Good on ’em,’ he said. ‘Why the long face? It won’t change anything for you, will it? You won’t be homeless or anything?’

  ‘As good as. How can I live there now?’

  All the time he was with her Maldwyn was anxious, half expecting there to be another incident. He tried not to show his relief when the train came and they waved their goodbyes.

  ‘Did your visit home go all right?’ he asked Vera when they had squeezed themselves into a compartment crowded with soldiers, at whom Vera directed saucy smiles.

  ‘Oh yes, except my father told me I have to go back home.’

  ‘I hope you don’t. I’d miss you,’ he said.

  ‘He’s worried that I’ll get into trouble — you know — with a boy. Although why he thinks I’m at greater risk in St David’s Well than at home I can’t explain.’

  ‘It’s me,’ Maldwyn joked. ‘He can see I’m practically irresistible!’

  She stared at him and said. ‘Well, some girls might think so. Delyth for example.’

  ‘Delyth won’t come near me now, so don’t worry.’

  ‘What makes you think I’m worrying, Maldwyn Perkins?’

  ‘Because I’ve got some sweets and a bit of cake from my stepmam and you want some?’

  * * *

  It was after midnight when Ken came in that Wednesday evening. Eirlys was very tired; she knew she would find it hard to continue working until the end of the season and she longed to go to bed. Nevertheless she waited until he came in, the light low, the fire almost out. Trying to make her voice pleasant, she asked:

  ‘Where have you been, Ken?’

  ‘I went to see Shirley Downs.’

  Still keeping her voice light, she said, ‘I wish you’d said, I would have gone with you. I want her to be one of the judges at the beauty contest and she needs to know the details.’

  ‘Write them down and I’ll take them to her tomorrow while you’re at work.’ He didn’t sit but moved towards the stairs. It was clear he had no intention of talking to her. Suddenly her patience was lost.

  ‘No, it’s perfectly all right, I don’t want to trouble you. Heaven forbid when it’s clear that you have plenty to do, coming in at this time of night.’

  ‘I don’t mind helping if I can. I wouldn’t mind being one of the judges myself,’ he said, hoping to make her smile.

  ‘No thank you, I can cope. You are far too busy.’

  He threw his jacket down on the armchair and turned to go upstairs. ‘Yes. You’re right. I’ll have to leave first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Good!’ she retorted, choking back tears.

  They got between the sheets, both chilled by the silence and the widening gap between them in the once cosy bed.

  The next morning they rose at the same time. Silently she cooked a breakfast of fried bread, scraping the basin for enough fat to crisp it and serving it with an egg that was half the ration for the week. He ate in silence, watching as she dealt with morning chores, cleaning out the fireplace and setting the paper and sticks with ashes and small lumps of coal on top ready to light that evening. The grate was washed and everything was neat and tidy, an electric fire sending out a small amount of heat before she called the boys.

  They tumbled down the stairs, arguing, asking what was to eat. Percival declared that it wasn’t something he liked and his brothers increased their rowdy argument as they offered to eat anything he didn’t want. While they ate porridge, the frying pan was heated and slices of bread dampened with a small amount of water before going into the last of the hot fat. The result was not crispy bread like Ken had enjoyed, but it was warm and the boys didn’t complain.

  Sadly Ken watched Eirlys deal with the food and clear away. With a wave at the boys and a nod towards Eirlys, he left.

  It was far too early to set off for his first appointment, and that added to his frustration. Having said he was leaving early out of pique, he had no alternative but to leave early.

  The beach was not one of his favourite places but it was there he went to kill time before setting off to visit an Army camp and check the stage and the equipment in preparation for a concert he had organised. There were few people about but already the stallholders were opening up in the hope of a good day. The season had only a few weeks to go and they needed every penny they could earn to help support them throughout the winter months.

  He saw Bleddyn and Hetty unlocking the swingboats, helter-skelter and various stalls, and walked over to greet them. ‘I saw your Shirley yesterday; she’s making progress, isn’t she? And she’s as popular as ever as a singer.’

  ‘Still depressed, mind,’ Hetty said sadly. ‘Her friends have been supportive and she hears regularly from Freddy Clements, who used to take her dancing. He never sympathises with her, mind. He’s very casual about her injuries, treats the fact that she can’t walk without a stick with no more concern than a splinter in her foot. She enjoys his letters and I suppose they are a refreshing break from the long faces and sympathetic noises. He makes her laugh, and that does her as much good as anything else. Thanks for persuading her to take part in your concerts. It’s good for her to know she still draws the crowds.’

  ‘The accident didn’t damage her voice.’

  ‘Hear anything about Janet?’ Bleddyn asked.

  ‘Oh, she still sings for me when she can.’

  ‘When you see her tell her we hope she comes back soon. With our Beth running the market café for her we’re short on help in our place.’ Bleddyn gestured to Castle’s Café above the sands. ‘Tell her we miss her too.’

  ‘If I see her I will.’ He felt uncomfortable talking about Janet, and although Hetty invited him to go with them to the café for a cup of tea
he declined.

  He walked back along the beach, scuffing his feet childlike through the sand, and when he saw that the hoop-la stall was open for business he impulsively had a try and won a goldfish. ‘What on earth can I do with it?’ he laughed when the stallholder proudly presented it.

  ‘There must be a child somewhere who’d love you for ever if you gave him that.’

  He went back to the house in Conroy Street and left the fish in a large jamjar for Percival, with a note promising to buy ‘Glub’ a proper tank when he was next home. Before he left, he tried to write an affectionate note to Eirlys but after the first sentence he had nothing to say, so he left the brief scribble beside Percival’s, stating just that he would be home on Sunday evening.

  * * *

  Maldwyn came into the shop after buying the daily flowers and fruit from the early-morning market and found Mrs Chapel leaning on the counter, obviously in pain.

  ‘Mrs Chapel, what is it? Shall I call the doctor?’

  ‘He’s been, during the night, and I have to have a few days’ rest. Sorry, Maldwyn, can you manage on your own?’

  ‘Of course I can. When you feel better, why don’t you go to your sister’s for a few days and have a break? You enjoy visiting her, don’t you? I’ll cope. The café will send in a bite to eat at lunchtime and I can spend the hour we’re quiet tidying up and making up the orders. Manage fine, I will.’

  ‘I know you will, Maldwyn. You’re such a good boy.’

  She left the following morning after declaring herself well enough to travel the twenty miles to the village where her widowed sister and her nephew, Gabriel, lived. At once Maldwyn began clearing out the clutter that seemed to gather around the shop whenever Mrs Chapel was there. No matter how often he cleared away, she gathered more until the back room was so full he could barely move. ‘So much for the valuable extra space,’ he sighed as he reached for the brush and shovel.