She called them and announced her intention. ‘About Christmas lunch, I’m inviting Keith to join us.’
‘Great.’ Maude said. ‘Just the person to make the day special.’
‘Lovely,’ Myrtle said in a tone that sounded anything but pleased.
For a moment the worry returned, then Audrey smiled and said, ‘Now, shall we buy him a little gift for under the tree?’
Audrey had never seen the place where Keith lived; he had been reticent about telling her his address. It was Marged who found out and there was something in the way she shared the information that made Audrey curious. On impulse one afternoon, while Maude and Myrtle managed the café, she went to find it. The name was charming, tempting the imagination to paint beautiful pictures. The Dingle sounded quaint and pretty and countrified, but the reality was a shock.
The Dingle was a rundown row of cottages that had become little more than a slum. In one there was a family of eight children, two other cottages were abandoned and open to the elements, and in another, where Keith lived, the owner had rented out three sad rooms to lodgers whom she boastfully called ‘her gentlemen’. Audrey didn’t go in. She had intended to knock and see if Keith was at home but on seeing the place she changed her mind. He would be embarrassed if she met him there. Puzzled, she walked away.
She said nothing to Marged or the girls, and she didn’t tell Keith she had been there. He seemed to have a good business, he was certainly busy with work in the town, so why did he live in such a dreadful place? She knew he had been married and wondered if he were still having to pay maintenance to an ex-wife or perhaps there were children to support? She realized with a shock that she knew very little about him. Their conversations had seemed to range widely, but they had been mostly about the work he was doing on her café. But surely that was only because she hadn’t been curious enough to ask? He didn’t seem a secretive man.
She made a pledge to herself: before she invited him to spend Christmas Day with her and the girls, she would find out about his family and why he no longer lived with them.
* * *
Marged found it strange to have her sister no longer living a few doors away. Audrey still used the house to keep stores in and one day they met there. These days they greeted each other more affectionately than of late but on occasions there was still an edge of unease. Anything to do with the café was discussed in a tentative way, but Marged began to relax and hope that they might become really close friends again, and Christmas was the perfect time to achieve it.
‘Why don’t you all come to us for Christmas lunch as well as in the evening?‘ Marged asked.
‘I can’t, Marged. We’ve invited Keith.’
‘Still hanging around, is he?’ she said.
‘Yes, he’s “still hanging around”, Marged. He’s become a good friend to me and the girls.’
‘You know he’s married, don’t you?’
‘Divorced,’ Audrey retorted, hoping it was true.
‘All right then, divorced. He’s still paying for that ex-wife of his, mind, and the two children.’ Knowing he had children was a shock, but Audrey hoped it hadn’t shown.
‘That’s why he’s working so hard and that’s why we’re lucky to have his help free and for nothing!’ Audrey retorted. ‘Stop trying to make trouble, Marged. Leave me alone.’ Audrey picked up the extra linen she had called to collect and was on her way out when Ronnie and Olive came down the stairs and called to her.
‘Auntie Audrey, we know you won’t be here for Christmas and we want us all to go out for a meal a few days before, say Wednesday the 22nd? The market closes at one and Beth will be free. She doesn’t think Peter will be home, but it will be lovely if the rest of us can be together.’
Seeing his enthusiastic face and with Olive adding her coaxing, Audrey had to agree. ‘Thank you, Ronnie and Olive, dears, of course we’ll be there. I’ll tell the girls and they’ll be delighted. We’ll meet you at eight, if that’s all right. It won’t be a problem, and,’ she added, glancing at Marged, ‘Keith is sure to offer to help.’
When he was told. Keith at once offered to deal with the cleaning.
‘You three go off and get dolled up and enjoy yourselves,’ he said. ‘Just leave everything and when you come back you’ll think the fairies have been.’
* * *
As the Christmas festivites were drawing closer, the town had decided that although a tree with lights was too much of an extravagance with the country struggling to survive, and with lighting still prohibited after dark, they would still have a Christmas tree outside the town hall. A tree was duly felled and placed in a central spot and decorated with all the tinsel, now dreadfully tarnished, that they could beg or borrow. Instead of lights, a circle of candles was placed around the tree and these were lit during the afternoon and doused officiously by the wardens at nightfall. It wasn’t much, but it cheered the inhabitants to see it standing there, where others had stood over past years. It seemed a beacon of hope, an augury of good news to come. Perhaps this Christmas really would be the final one celebrated in wartime? They were three months into the fifth year of the conflict.
On the day of the family meal to which Ronnie had invited Audrey and Maude and Myrtle, there was a complication. Wednesday was half-day closing in the café as well as most of the shops in the town and it was on this day they were asked to accommodate a birthday party. Eirlys and Ken wanted to make a special occasion of Stanley’s fifteenth birthday which was a slight embarrassment as he had been telling Myrtle he was fifteen for several months.
Having accepted the invitation to go out with Ronnie and Olive and the rest of the family on the same evening, Myrtle decided she couldn’t go and for this Stanley was grateful. Please don’t tell her it’s my fifteenth.’ he pleaded. ‘I told her it was a party for Percival so she wouldn’t think she was missing much.’
Without hesitation Audrey agreed to keep the café open for the afternoon and to her surprise they were quite busy. Shop girls on their half day off and with nowhere to go, learned of the opening and arrived with friends to enjoy a comfortable hour to talk about Christmas. Older people joined them, pleased to find a place to sit and dream of Christmases that had gone and those to come.
The takings were better than most afternoons and Audrey decided that if regulations allowed, she would continue to open on the town’s half day to give the young people a place to meet and hopefully instil in them the idea of meeting there in the evenings as well. It might be just what was needed to get the business on track.
‘What about Ronnie’s dinner with the family, Auntie Audrey?’ Maude asked when at five o’clock there was no sign of the place closing.
‘Go and find Keith and well ask him to close up for us as he offered to clean up anyway.‘ Audrey suggested. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind. He’s working in the butcher’s shop yard, fixing the broken fence at the back.’
‘Is that why we haven’t seen him for a few days?’ Maude asked.
‘He’s very kind, helping us when he can, but he does have his own work and that must come first,’ Audrey reminded her. ‘But I’m sure he’ll come when he knows we’re running late for the family meal.’
It was Myrtle who went to the butcher’s shop to find him, and she was told that Keith had packed up the job a couple of days previously and had gone home feeling unwell. Given his address and an offer to use the big, delivery bike, she set off for The Dingle. When she found it she was as shocked as Audrey had been.
‘Not well.‘ was the answer to her query about his whereabouts. The overweight, underwashed woman whom she presumed was his landlady stood at the doorway, arms folded, suspicion creasing her brow. ‘Who wants to know?’ she asked. Myrtle was saved from answering by Keith coming to the door looking quite cheerful and smiling a greeting.
He was very carelessly dressed in dirty overalls and shirt, and a paint-splashed jumper, all of which were creased as though they had been slept in. By the look of him Myrtle thought he ha
dn’t shaved for a couple of days and looked as though washing was something he hadn’t got around to either.
Doubtfully, Myrtle explained the situation at the café and he promised to come within the hour.
‘It was a migraine,’ he explained. ‘I get them now and then and they make me feel quite ill for a while. I have to lie down in a dark room till they pass. It’s going now and as soon as I’ve had a hot cup of tea I’ll be fine.’
‘Are you sure?’ Myrtle asked. She didn’t want Audrey to see him in this state or she wouldn’t leave him to look after the café while they went out, and she did so want to go. She missed the Castle family dreadfully and, even though her loyalty was to Audrey, she wanted to see the rest of them, remind them of their importance to her and Maude. ‘Don’t come if you aren’t well.’ she said crossing her fingers. ‘You don’t look—’
‘Don’t worry, Myrtle. I’ll smarten myself up before I report for duty. Don’t say anything about the migraine to your auntie, there’s no point in her worrying. I’m going to be fine.’
Wondering about the unpleasant place in which he lived, undecided about whether or not she should tell Audrey, she cycled back to return the carrier bike and then ran back to the café, where business was still hectic. Between clearing tables and dealing with dishes, she told Audrey about the terrible place called The Dingle.
‘I know,’ Audrey said. ‘I went to see it myself a while ago.’
‘You know? Then tell me, why does he live in such an awful place? He works, he can’t be so poor he’s unable to find something better. Maude and I were destitute and we didn’t have any way of getting somewhere decent to live, so why does he accept that place and have that awful woman looking after him?’
‘Apparently there are several lodgers living there and some of them are little better than tramps, begging on the street for money, so I’ve heard. But I can’t offer to help, can I? He’s never told me much about himself so it’s a question of pride.’
‘He’s in debt or something?’
‘Maybe. Whatever it is, it’s his business and private. We can’t ask,’ Audrey said. ‘It’s best he thinks we don’t know.’ She hesitated then decided to tell Myrtle what she knew. ‘Marged told me he’s married and has two children. He’s probably divorced but still paying most of his wages to them.’
There was no chance to discuss it further as the café needed their attention, and a few minutes later Keith arrived. He had washed, shaved, changed his clothes and he looked perfectly well. As he had been involved with the café so often before, he saw what was needed and began to sort out the chaos that followed a busy few hours with efficiency and in good humour. Myrtle watched and wondered.
At seven, leaving Keith to close the café and clean up ready for the following day, the three went up to the flat to get ready. Maude had treated herself to a new winter dress and she put it on, while Myrtle chose to wear a skirt and a blouse on to which Hannah had sewn a few sequins and lent her a rhinestone necklace which caught the light beautifully and added a touch of glamour. Audrey wore a dress she had bought years before when she and Wilf had first married. In a soft blue, with an edging of lace and some silver buttons, she felt smart enough to feel confident in front of the family she had all but abandoned.
She felt a bit uneasy, aware that if Marged chose she could make the evening a tense one for her, but as soon as they went inside the hotel where their meal was booked, everything went well. Ronnie and Olive, with a sleepy Rhiannon ready to settle to sleep in her pram beside them, acted as host and hostess for the evening and welcomed each one as they arrived. Their places were marked and Audrey found herself next to her sister with Hetty on her other side. Bleddyn and Huw had been placed outside the three of them.
‘Maybe not formally correct,’ Olive whispered, ‘but we thought it would be nice for you two to sit together. You and Marged have always been such close friends as well as loving sisters.’
Audrey hoped Olive would be of the same opinion when the evening ended. Aloud she said, ‘What a wonderful idea this was, thank you Olive dear and you Ronnie. It will start Christmas perfectly.’
Others joined in their approval and the hum of conversation began to swell. Two and a half year-old Rhiannon slept through most of the evening and seemed unaware of the noisy chatter and laughter billowing around her amid the smoke of cigars and the chinking of glasses.
* * *
In the Corner Café things were not as orderly. With the blinds closed and the lights reduced to one overhead light by which to see what he was doing, Keith had started to gather the last of the china and on the final load, which was too unwieldy a load for the tray, he tripped, and fell against the counter before falling to the floor. All around him lay shattered glass and china, the contents of the tray having been joined by the broken glass falling from one of the counter display units.
He sat there for a moment and gradually dared to stare at his hands. In one a large piece of glass was embedded. As he watched, thick dark blood oozed around the glass. Carefully he removed the circle of glass and pressed a tea towel against the cut to staunch the blood. Slowly he got up and made his way into the kitchen.
Fixing the tea towel more firmly, he looked for a brush and shovel to start clearing up the mess. He couldn’t find the small hand brush, and the long sweeping brush handle was a nuisance, getting caught against chairs, the door and against the counter. He struggled but seemed incapable of judging distances and repeatedly knocked into things or pushed them over with the brush. He glanced at the time. Audrey and the others would be back soon.
Trying to hurry he pushed harder with the brush, tugging as it snagged again behind a chair. It came free and out of control, jerked up to hit the window blind. It came away from its fastenings and hit the window and, as though in slow motion, he watched as the glass cracked, loosened, then slid down, some to land on the floor, most piling up on the pavement outside.
Some wag passing by shouted, ‘Put that light out.’ And for a moment it was funny. His face creased into hysterical laughter and he had no strength in his arms.
The laughter ended as suddenly as it began. He was finding it difficult to concentrate but decided that the first thing to do was find some way of covering the broken window. A blanket and some tacks were quickly found and he fastened the blanket over the gap to provide, if not security, then at least some protection against someone falling against the glass.
The smashed glass went into the ash bins and the bins were left as a barrier beside what was left of the window. Going back inside he thought it would be wise to remove anything of value up to the flat in case an opportunist burglar should happen to pass. Illogically, bearing in mind its size, he decided that the undamaged glass counter display units were something it would be difficult to replace, so he staggered with one as far as the bottom of the stairs then decided that the coffee maker was more important.
Having turned off the main light, he lit a few candles to help him see where he was going. He was struggling up the stairs with the chrome coffee maker when he realised his hand was still bleeding. He stopped halfway up the stairs, supported the heavy coffee maker on his bent knee to re-fix the tea towel, and lost his grip on it. The blood made it slippery and although he tried to save it, handling it at an awkward angle gave him no chance of holding its weight and he cried out in dismay as he saw it roll down the stairs. It hit the glass display unit and he sat down on the stairs and covered his face with his hands. What was the matter with him? He couldn’t think straight. Why had he come? He had known when Myrtle had asked him that he wasn’t well enough, so why hadn’t he said so?
He was still asking himself those questions when Audrey, Maude and Myrtle walked in.
Eleven
Audrey and the girls stared at the ruin of the café, now lit with a couple of candles, in disbelief.
‘Keith! What’s happened here?’
He didn’t reply, he just sat on the stair looking at her, and in the wavering l
ight of the candles he looked like a whipped boy. She saw that he was shaking. Shock and the icy cold of the unheated place, which was practically open to the chill of the night, had made him intensely cold and when he tried to speak, he shivered so much the words were inaudible.
Behind the three women, first Marged and Hetty, then Huw and the burly, bearded figure of Bleddyn appeared.
‘What the hell?’ Huw and Bleddyn gasped in unison. Their words broke the spell of disbelief and Audrey went up the stairs to where Keith sat.
‘I wanted it to be perfect,’ he finally muttered, ‘but I couldn’t find the hand brush.’
‘And you lost your temper?’ she asked in alarm. ‘You lost your temper and did all this?’
‘No, I never lose my temper. You can ask anyone, they’ll tell you I’m the mildest of men. No, Audrey, I couldn’t find it and I had to use the floor brush.’
The others looked around them as Audrey stood waiting patiently for an explanation of how the lack of a hand brush could cause such damage.
‘Because I couldn’t find the small brush,’ he went on, ‘I used the long handled one and it got stuck and I jerked it free and broke the glass display case and then, when I was clearing that up, the handle hit the window.’
He was shivering uncontrollably and Audrey helped him up and guided him to the flat and into the equally cold sitting room. She sat him on a chair and lit the electric fire. Maude and Myrtle had followed and they began reviving the coal fire which had all but died while they were out.
Holidays at Home Omnibus Page 139
