Holidays at Home Omnibus

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

  Half an hour later Vera, Delyth and Madge arrived, proudly carrying three bags of broken biscuits, the shopkeeper allowing one per customer. Smiling with an effort, Eirlys thanked them, then asked Vera to go to the phone box and leave a message with his parents to tell Ken he was needed.

  Vera did so, and also spoke to the doctor’s wife. She knew very little about babies and their birth, but she could see that this one was anxious to arrive and she didn’t want to be involved in all that!

  When she returned to the others, Eirlys was curling up with pain. They gave her sips of water, held her hand until they thought their fingers would be crushed and, in silent prayers, urged the doctor to hurry.

  * * *

  Ken was at a meeting at the ENSA headquarters in Drury Lane. He had contacts with up-and-coming singers and comedy acts and was arranging for them to be auditioned to join a concert party. Although he was a small-time organiser, he always encouraged those performers with talent to aim for better things, and whenever possible he helped them further their careers, even when it meant his losing a valuable act.

  Today he had come to discuss Shirley Downs, and Janet. Talking about Janet wasn’t easy for him. He knew that if he wanted to save his marriage and hold his child in his arms, he had to forget her. Before he did, he wanted to give her career as a singer a boost. Once the war ended she stood a chance of making a good living in the world of entertainment. She and Shirley had once been partners, so it was natural for him to discuss them both.

  His father phoned the theatre and told him he was needed at home; he had no further information, just that Eirlys was unwell. He made his excuses, left details of how both girls could be contacted through Shirley, and hurried to the station.

  An air-raid siren began to wail its warning and he tried to ignore it and run through the streets, pushing past those already making their way to the underground shelters. A warden stopped him and insisted he went with the rest. Impatiently he waited, pressed in with the others, and as the minutes passed he felt tempted to make for the doorway and run. Nothing was happening and he wanted to be with Eirlys.

  The explosion briefly deafened him and as it cut out the lights he was blinded too. There was only his sense of smell, and even that suffered as his nostrils filled with dust and cement. He was choking in a silent darkness. As he began to recover, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes, there was a second explosion, followed by several more. A final blast rocked the shelter. A part of the roof caved in and there was a scramble as people were pulled away from the fallen masonry. No one had been seriously hurt and he heard murmurings as they were comforted. He covered his mouth and nose with a scarf and waited for what at that moment seemed to be certain death.

  Torches flashed and lanterns were lit, and at once everything improved, hope revived. People wiped the dust from their eyes, smiled their relief at having survived and waited for freedom, trying not to think about what was happening at street level.

  The rumbling and roaring of fires and more distant explosions went on for a while, then the thin, single note of the all-clear was heard and they trooped back out to see what damage had been done, many running towards their homes, afraid of what they would find there.

  Ken hurried through the rubble-strewn street, but the scene that awaited him at the station was one of the devastation. A bomb had exploded, leaving a huge crater, and the trains that weren’t damaged would not be able to.leave. Ambulances were taking away the dead and injured and he was directed to a bus that would take passengers to the nearest station that had been undamaged by the raid.

  At Paddington he was able to board a train, and, although it was crowded and he had to stand, he was taken without many delays to Bristol, where he had to change to the local train. It was there he was told that the trains were all delayed because of trouble further up the line. Impatient now to reach home, he went outside and thumbed a lift from a delivery van advertising utility furniture for newly-weds. The driver stopped and agreed to take him as far as he was able towards St David’s Well.

  After two miles the van lurched, and an examination showed that a tyre was flat. A lack of tools meant the puncture would take hours to fix. Ken thanked the man, apologised for not stopping to help and stood at the corner in the hope of another lift. Although the fear of invasion was past, there were still many unwilling to pick up a hitch-hiker in case they were helping a spy. After several vehicles passed him without stopping, he began to walk.

  * * *

  The doctor examined Eirlys and declared that she should be in hospital. The baby had turned and was lying breach, so it was likely to be a difficult birth. Maldwyn waited for Morgan and the boys, to tell them what had happened, and the three girls took a bus to the hospital and prepared to wait.

  ‘I’m going to phone the corner shop and ask them to tell our parents we might not be home,’ Delyth said. ‘I don’t want to leave until this is over, do you?’

  ‘I’ve got work in the morning,’ Vera said.

  ‘So have we!’ the other two chorused. ‘But if Ken doesn’t get back in time, Eirlys will need friends around her.’

  Eirlys’s father arrived, having left Maldwyn looking after the boys, and they all sat there with nothing to say, being frowned at by the staff, who hinted that they should go home and leave people to get on with their jobs, hints that were smilingly ignored.

  ‘Where’s Ken? Why hasn’t he come?’ Eirlys sobbed.

  ‘He’s not likely to be in here, is he?’ the nurse said briskly, looking around the operating room with a disapproving frown. ‘He’ll be in the waiting room. I’ll send someone to look for him when we have you settled ready for the surgeon.’

  ‘Surgeon?’

  ‘I’m afraid you have to have a Caesarean section, Mrs Ward. Don’t worry, we’ll just need to empty your stomach first. Now, try to swallow this tube for me.’

  * * *

  Ken was hurrying along the dark country road, stopping hopefully every time he heard a car approaching. None of them stopped. He should have stayed at the corner, where he could be seen, or even stayed to help the van driver change the wheel. Perhaps he would catch him up. He stared back along the empty road, briefly encouraged, then his shoulders drooped; he would be ages yet. No one else would stop for him out here. They would be past before they saw him.

  The drone of a large engine was heard; it sounded as though it was going slowly. It had to be his best chance. He stood in the road and waved his arms frantically. The driver stopped and leaned out of his window to ask what was wrong.

  ‘My wife’s having a baby and I want to get to the hospital,’ Ken said.

  The driver grinned, his teeth showing brightly in the darkness. ‘I’ll get you there, lad, but first I have to go behind a hedge. I drank too much tea at my last stop.’ He jumped down and went across the road to where a break in the hedge offered a chance of privacy.

  Ken stood in the road a few yards away, impatient to be off. As the driver walked back he stopped to light a cigarette. Unaware of anything except the man’s irritating delay. Ken called him and, when he didn’t move, started pulling him towards the truck. Until it was almost upon them, they didn’t see the car that came speeding towards them. The lorry driver threw himself back towards the hedge. Too late, Ken tried to follow him and he was spun into the air, falling close to where the shocked driver lay. The car slowed, then picked up speed and quickly disappeared.

  * * *

  When the operation was over and Eirlys was recovering, Delyth, Madge and Vera hugged themselves, considering themselves a part of the happy occasion.

  ‘If only she could wake up to find Ken here,’ Delyth sighed.

  ‘He’ll be on his way.’ Morgan said, more to convince himself than them. ‘She wasn’t even sure where he was. It might have been Scotland! He’ll come as soon as he can.’

  As Eirlys opened her eyes and looked at her baby being proudly held by the nurse before being placed in her arms, she had no idea that Ken was lying unc
onscious in the same hospital.

  Eleven

  Maldwyn settled the boys, providing toast and cocoa and a bag of biscuits that Percival had found in the pantry, supervised teeth-cleaning and sent them to bed. Percival insisted he would never sleep unless he was read to. ‘I’m bovered by nightmares, blood and daggers and—’

  ‘All right,’ Maldwyn capitulated before he was given a more detailed précis of Percival’s imagination, and read a couple of chapters of Three Men in a Boat, which Percival didn’t quite approve of but which sent his brothers into paroxysms of laughter. ‘I’m going to ask Uncle Morgan for a dog and I’m calling it Montmorency,’ he announced before falling asleep.

  Maldwyn sat in the chair and tried to stay awake, expecting any moment for either Ken or Morgan Price to walk in. But eventually he dozed, and woke confused at six a.m., wondering where he was and why he was there. He hadn’t realised that it was a knock on the door that had woken him and when a second knock came he went to answer it, expecting to see one of the men, complaining about a mislaid key. It was the police.

  ‘Not again? Are you following me around?’, Maldwyn gasped. ‘What am I suspected of now!’

  ‘You? What are you doing here?’ Constable Charlie Groves asked. He checked his notebook and asked. ‘Does a Mr Ken Ward, or a Mr Morgan Price live here?’

  ‘They both do, but Morgan is in the hospital with his daughter, who’s having a baby. I don’t know where Ken is.’

  ‘We do. He’s in hospital, and I’m looking for his father-in-law to tell him what’s happened. What are you doing here? I thought you lived with Mrs Denver in Queen Street.’

  Maldwyn explained the events of the previous day and ended by saying. ‘The last I heard, Morgan Price is at the hospital. Delyth and Madge were there too. Perhaps you should see if they’re still there? I’m sure Madge will be pleased to see you, eh?’

  Charlie smiled and nodded. ‘Good idea. I can always tell my sergeant I was acting on information.’

  When Ken came round he tried to ask what had happened to his wife, but his thoughts wouldn’t gel, his mouth was unable to form the words. He was soothed and reassured and he slept normally without rousing sufficiently to understand what was happening.

  Charlie found three sleepy people still in the waiting room. Vera had gone to work, unwilling to miss a shift unnecessarily, leaving the two girls and Morgan waiting for news. A nurse had come several times to tell them to leave, but each time they were propped against each other sleeping peacefully and she hadn’t disturbed them. Charlie shook Morgan awake. ‘Looking everywhere for you, I’ve been. Congratulations on your grandson, Mr Price.’

  ‘All we have to do now is find Ken Ward and everything will be fine,’ Delyth said sleepily.

  ‘He’s found. Unfortunately he’s in another ward. Had a bad accident, he did, knocked over by a car, and the doctors are trying to decide which of them to tell first — Ken about his baby, or Eirlys about her husband.’

  It was Morgan who broke the news to his daughter, and only a few minutes later Ken woke, fully compos mentis, and asked about Eirlys. After the doctors had examined him again, and dealt with a broken arm and a badly bruised head and body, he was wheeled in to see his wife and their son.

  He leaned over, looked at the sleeping child and burst into tears.

  ‘He’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. Oh, Eirlys, you’re wonderful. I’m so lucky. I love you, my darling girl, I love you both, so much.’ He reached out awkwardly and hugged her and together they stared down at their son, Ken trying to stifle his sobs and Eirlys wondering when she had ever been so happy.

  Delyth and Madge were escorted to the railway station by Charlie. They got on the train and fell asleep at once, almost missing their stop. When they went to the shop — nothing further had happened about the threat to send them to more important work — and began to explain the reason they were so late, their boss took one look at their tired faces and told them to go home.

  * * *

  During the next few days, Eirlys had several visitors. Two at a time was the strict rule, but the boys found a window near her and stood there smiling and blowing kisses to the baby they had yet to meet, until they were chased away.

  Her father came, and Maldwyn, who shyly handed her a beautifully arranged bouquet of Chrysanthemums from himself and Mrs Chapel then hurried away, embarrassed at the sight of all the young women in bed with babies at their sides. Several members of the Castle family called with gifts, including Beth and Hannah.

  When Matron relented and allowed the three boys in to see the baby, Stanley and Harold marched in and leaned over the cot in delight, making coochy-coo noises like veterans. Percival held back, standing beyond the next bed, afraid to look at the tiny child.

  ‘Percival? Don’t you want to see him?’ Eirlys asked gently.

  ‘He might not like me,’ he muttered.

  ‘Of course he will. You’ll be like a big brother to him, someone to look after him and love him, just as I love you. Come here.’ She held out her arms and he ran to her, hiding his face, ashamed of wanting to cry. ‘I’ll look after him for you,’ he whispered. ‘But I’ll be glad when he ain’t so small.’

  Vera walked through the town soon after two o’clock and saw Maldwyn busily washing the windows of the florist’s, whistling cheerfully. ‘How d’you do it, Mal? Why aren’t you dragging yourself about like me? Perhaps you had more sleep than me!’

  ‘I probably did. I was woken first thing by the police and I thought they’d come to arrest me, thinking I was in hiding or something,’ he laughed. ‘Fancy the pictures tonight?’

  ‘Not likely. I have to be up at five and the way I feel now I could sleep straight through until then.’

  At the corner of Queen Street her boyfriend was waiting, and instead of sleeping she checked that Mrs Denver was out on one of her endless shopping trips then led him inside through the back lane. She wasn’t sure what time he left, as she was deeply asleep.

  * * *

  Many letters from St David’s Well during those weeks included the story about the dramatic birth of Anthony Kenneth Ward. The news that Ken had recovered from his accident was another episode to the story and news of the infant’s progress filled many paragraphs. Good news was welcomed, no matter whom it concerned.

  Ken was overwhelmed with love for his son, and his feelings for Eirlys were stronger than they had ever been. The baby’s helplessness was appealing and brought out a strong desire to protect him from any harm. He was proud that, although helpless and utterly dependent, the child managed to get what he wanted. He would screw up his little face and protest loudly when things were not to his liking and Ken would hold him and talk to him, utterly enchanted.

  There was other good news too. In November 1942 church bells rang for the first time since 1940. No longer a warning of invasion, they were a celebration of the success of Montgomery and the Allies in the final battle for El Alamein, a battle that had raged for several months. For those in the know, there was still a very long way to go. But for many the sound of the church bells gave hope.

  * * *

  Christmas came and went, and 1943 offered little change to the tedious routines of most women. Many were dashing about practically every hour of the day, trying to fit in everything they had to do. More and more women found work; they would look after a friend’s children so that friend could work, then hand over their own children to the same friend so they could do their own hours of work, in factories or stores or sometimes in an office. Washing, cooking, cleaning and shopping had to be fitted in when there was a moment to spare. Everyone was exhausted. Their only consolation was their escape from the air raids suffered by the larger towns and the south-east of England.

  Beth looked up one Tuesday afternoon to see Janet standing there, smiling and asking for a cup of tea. ‘And I hope it’s as good as I used to make,’ she said, laughing at Beth’s surprised face.

  ‘I doubt that,’ Beth replied. ‘I have to get so
many more cups out of every packet, it doesn’t have much colour or taste by the time I close.’

  ‘Don’t bother to explain. I work for the Naafi and you wouldn’t believe how many cups we have to get from two ounces of tealeaves!’

  ‘What are you doing home? How long have you got?’ Beth asked a stream of questions as she served a queue of patient customers, many of whom recognised the previous owner and stopped for a brief chat.

  ‘I’m only here for two days, and there’s something I want to discuss with you,’ Janet said.

  When the market closed the two young women went back to Mr Gregory’s smallholding, and after eating Janet and Beth stood outside in the cold darkness while Mr Gregory fed the dogs and cats, and Janet put forward a proposition. ‘I want to sell the café. At least the business — the property isn’t mine to sell, as you know. What d’you think?’

  ‘I’ll be sorry if I have to leave.’ Beth said, quickly wondering where she could find a job until May, when she could return to the work she had always done, in Castle’s Café on St David’s Well Bay.

  ‘Why leave?’ Janet asked. ‘Why not buy it yourself? You’ve run it successfully all this time: it wouldn’t be much of a change except you’d keep all the profit.’

  ‘I don’t think I’d be able to raise the money.’ Beth replied, but her face shone with excitement.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Perhaps I could borrow from the bank. Maybe Mam and Dad might help.’

  ‘Or me,’ her father-in-law said as he joined them, taking his ever-present notebook from the inside band of his old trilby.

  He led them back indoors and with his stubby pencil made notes and eventually agreed on a price.