Holidays at Home Omnibus

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  The letter gave no news, it was no more than a few words written in haste, assuring Hannah of his love and signed with kisses. Handing it back, Beth managed a smile.

  ‘You’re right, Hannah. Peter and Johnny and our Eynon will soon be home, clambering to get back to the beach, pretending none of the last six years have happened.’ Briskly she asked, ‘Right then, what d’you want me to do?’

  ‘Sew up those wedding-dress dolls’ clothes if you would. Eirlys is running a best-dressed doll competition next week and there are customers waiting for them. We make dresses and the children are supposed to decorate them.‘

  ‘I don’t know how Eirlys keeps up the enthusiasm for the Holidays at Home scheme, do you? She must be weary of competitions, chess games, competitions, races, concerts, dances. Yet she enthuses and makes everyone feel the excitement of yet another summer at the beach and in the town.’

  ‘She wasn’t going to work another year but her bosses persuaded her. Now Anthony is settled into the routine of coming here or being looked after by Alice, she’s decided to stay on and work full time throughout the year.’

  ‘Brave. It’s hard work running a house and looking after Ken and her father and the three evacuees.’

  ‘I suppose she’s looking ahead, to when the need for Ken to organize concert parties for the forces is no longer needed and he’ll have to find a career for himself. Her wages will give him the chance to start again.’

  ‘We both know it’s more than that,’ Alice said sadly. ‘Ken’s affair has left her less than confident in the future. She needs to know she can earn enough to survive if he leaves them.’

  * * *

  The rooms which Sam Edwards had taken, a few doors away from Audrey’s café, were not as filthy as Lilly expected, but nevertheless, dark walls and dark linoleum, forty-watt light bulbs and dirty windows gave a depressing first impression. As she was coming out after making a list of necessary jobs to be done and listing the furniture they would need to bring, Audrey called from across the street. With her were Myrtle and Maude. Coming towards them was Sam with Phyllis holding his hand.

  ‘What are you doing here, visiting?’ Maude asked. ‘Who do you know in this street?’

  Lilly tightened her lips and was clearly not going to reply, so Sam said, ‘This will be our new home. We’re moving in at the end of May. You must be our first visitors, mustn’t they, Lilly?’

  ‘You’ve bought Mrs Summers’s house?’ Audrey said in surprise.

  ‘No, we’ll have just two rooms. They’ll be plenty for us, won’t they, Lilly?’

  ‘Plenty,’ Lilly said, avoiding her aunt’s eye.

  ‘If you need any help–’ Audrey offered.

  As Lilly brightened up, ready to accept, Sam interrupted and assured Audrey firmly that Lilly would manage, ‘Just fine.’

  Audrey quickly guessed that the planned move had not been the idea of her niece and when the few questions fell into a silence she hugged the child, smiled politely at Sam and left them. She was frowning, wondering what had gone wrong. They wouldn’t be moving from a house to two rooms unless they had met with a problem. It was also clear that at present, Lilly didn’t want to talk about it.

  Lilly saw Netta the following day as she was on her way to the park, and as soon as Netta greeted her she burst into noisy tears. After walking a little way to allow Lilly time to calm herself, Netta led her to a café where Lilly told her what had happened.

  ‘He must know,’ she said, drying her red eyes with a sodden handkerchief. ‘Somehow that stupid Sam let him find out about our affair and now my life is ruined. Why did I let myself be persuaded? Seduced I was, mind,’ she added, glancing at Netta to see the effect of the emotive word. ‘I tried to stop him but he seduced me and now my life is ruined and poor little Phyllis hasn’t got a proper home.’

  ‘She would have if you went back home to Sidney Street,’ Netta suggested.

  ‘What? And have to be grateful to Mam and Dad? It’s the month of May, remember. The holiday season has started. Go back home and have to slave away on the beach all summer? No thanks!’

  * * *

  Marged and Huw were concerned abut Lilly’s change of circumstances and Marged wondered if Sam might be ill. ‘Perhaps he’s preparing Lilly for widowhood,’ she suggested. ‘Heaven knows she’s never been a capable person and maybe he’s trying to make her face up to looking after herself and Phyllis.’

  ‘She’s never mentioned him seeing a doctor, except when he was attacked in the railway arch the night Cassie Davies was robbed. It couldn’t be anything to do with that, could it?’

  ‘Best we go and see him,’ Marged said emphatically.

  When the café was closed and cleaned ready for the next day, instead of going straight home. Marged and Huw went to see Lilly and Sam. Sending a reluctant Lilly out to make them a cup of tea, Huw asked Sam if he was well. ‘We wondered, Marged and me, if you were ill and that was the reason for you moving to somewhere cheaper.’

  ‘I am in the best of health and the reasons for the move are nothing more than financial,’ Sam said. He slapped his knees as he stood up and followed Lilly into the kitchen to help with the tray, making it clear he had no intention of saying anything more on the matter.

  When Marged and Huw left, he went on sorting out the unwanted items from the house. He didn’t ask Lilly to help – that would have been too cruel. Besides, every discarded piece brought back memories of the years he had been married to his first wife and the sadness was almost pleasurable.

  Sam had grieved when his wife Marjorie had died even though she had been ill for years and had needed so much care. He had spent so many hours of each day caring for her that her death had left an enormous void. He had been desolate when she died but that suffering was nothing compared with this. Then, as now, he had felt suicidal but for different reasons. Then it was because he had wanted to join Marjorie, now it was because he wanted to get away from Lilly; she was a reminder of his failure and stupidity. Only Phyllis, the innocent one in all this, held him back.

  A young man stopped and looked at the assortment of jumble he had piled at the gate.

  ‘Excuse me, sir, but if that lot’s to be thrown out, can I have it?’

  ‘If it’s any use to you, yes. Take it and welcome,’ Sam replied.

  ‘Thanks. Er…’ The young man grinned cheekily and asked, ‘D’you think I could borrow your wheelbarrow to take it away?’

  ‘Take the wheelbarrow too. I have no further use for it.’

  The man made two trips with the barrow piled high, to an empty house at the edge of the wood. He was delighted with his good fortune. Prepared to offer payment, he hadn’t even had to pay a penny. After a small charge to hire a market stall for a day he would be able to make a few pounds with this lot. When he was leaving with the second load, Sam called to him and gave him half-a-crown for his kindness. Whistling cheerfully, he hurried away to begin the pleasurable task of pricing everything ready for his sale. What a bit of luck. It showed that the gods were still smiling on him.

  * * *

  ‘Our Mam and Dad tried to find out why we have to move,’ Lilly told Netta the following afternoon. They were sitting in a café, the three children tucking into a mock chocolate cake. In a corner a wireless murmured, unheeded by them.

  Most people in the country followed the news throughout every day with great excitement. The death of Hitler and the shooting of Mussolini at the end of April had brought cheers to everyone’s lips. Every item of information was repeated, dissected and analysed.

  Everyone knew that the announcement about the end of the war in Europe was imminent but for Lilly there was nothing to think about other than her stupidity. Unaware of the excitement she sat and stared glumly into her coffee cup. Around her people talked and laughed and even Netta seemed unaware of her misery. Then suddenly, at three o’clock, everything went quiet. The manager turned up the volume on the wireless but Lilly remained unaware. All she could think of was the dev
astation of leaving the neat little house kept spotless and comfortable by Sam.

  She didn’t hear the owner of the café make an announcement. So when the huge shout and roar of several dozen voices rose and filled the room, she was terrified. She stood up and grabbed her daughter preparing to run, from what, she didn’t know. Looking outside they saw crowds of people running, shouting and climbing the steps of the town hall. At the top of the steps a group of men appeared and one was shouting something through a megaphone.

  The words were repeated, shouted, one to another and it took only a few moments more for the realization to reach them. The war in Europe was over. Germany had surrendered.

  The news spread like magic, neighbours knocking on doors and calling everyone out. Shopkeepers stood on doorways and shook hands with everyone that passed. One woman set fire to her ration books and knew she would spend ages queuing for replacements and didn’t care. Within hours everyone was out on the streets. Doors were left open as the occupiers ran joyfully out. Some waving Union flags; some with the Welsh dragon. Others ran with flags wrapped around their shoulders. The instinct of the population was to gather where they could stand together, and share their joy. People leaned out of office windows, boys climbed lamp posts and waved their hands. Whistles were blown together with mouth organs and Boys Brigade bugles and people sang. Sammy Richards, carpenter and handyman, walked along the street playing ‘God Save the King’ on his accordion. Dogs ran through the hastening feet, tripping people up, barking and joining in the new game, and cats ran for shelter, tails twitching in anxiety.

  At the café on the beach, Marged and Huw looked down to see people running among the picnicking few, shouting. Opening the door and stepping out, Marged turned to stare disbelievingly at Huw and Maude and said, ‘It’s over,’ and promptly burst into tears.

  In Audrey’s café, someone ran in to tell them and Audrey put the remaining sandwiches and cakes on the counter and told people to help themselves, then she closed the café and with Keith and Myrtle, hurried towards the beach.

  The streets were packed with the celebrating population of St David’s Well. Everyone was on the move, some heading for members of their family, others to share the wonderful moment with friends. Many, by pre-planning or telepathy, made for the square outside the town hall and hugged ecstatically when they met. Near the main shops, a long gaggle of women and children were dancing the conga, their voices clear above the general hubbub. Children were crying and being dragged along with the rest.

  Near the railway station, a house caught fire and the fire-engine couldn’t get through the crush of people in time to save it. The owner had draped garlands usually saved for Christmas across his room and in the window he had lit candles. One of the garlands, insufficiently fastened, had fallen, caught fire, and the flames had quickly reached the curtains.

  A few neighbours tried to dowse the flames with buckets and bowls of water but most people ran past, the victory more important than a house fire on that incredible day. The few who did stop and stare momentarily, wondered vaguely if it was a part of the celebration.

  Eirlys was working in her office at the council offices and with the rest of the staff she left, and hurried to the shop to collect her small son. Buses were unable to get through the streets so she ran. The two younger evacuees Harold and Percival were there, having been collected from school by her father. Rosy-faced with the excitement, they all set off for the beach. Only young Percival looked less than thrilled.

  ‘Isn’t this wonderful?’ Eirlys said as she steered Anthony’s pushchair through the crowd with Percival holding the handlebar. She was puzzled by his lack of excitement, although he was always the most dour of children.

  ‘Teacher says everyone will be going home,’ he said in his low, slow voice. ‘We were told once about the people in the Channel Islands being freed from the Germans, and how they could go home again. And how the soldiers will come back.’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed, ‘everyone will be back where they belong. Johnny and Eynon Castle will be back on the beach.’

  ‘They won’t need our Stanley any more, will they?’

  ‘Our Stanley will work on the sands for as long as he likes.’

  ‘Not when the soldiers come home though,’ he insisted.

  With so many distractions Eirlys didn’t finish the conversation and seeing Lilly and her friend Netta, she waved and the two young women with their children pushed through the throng to walk with them. Percival’s eyes were wet as he fought back tears. Eirlys wasn’t telling him yet, but he knew he would be sent back to London. Everyone back where they belonged. That was what he had been told and he belonged in a barely remembered dingy room in London.

  Houses left open as the occupants celebrated offered opportunities for thieves, and sadly there were a few. Some households lost rent money or milk money, left for convenience on a hall table. Books for the insurance man with the weekly payment tucked inside were pilfered with ease.

  Marged and Huw kept the café open but there was some confusion about their customers paying and they eventually gave up trying to claim their money and just gave away the little they had left. With the door closed the family stood looking down at the sands, laughing at the crowd below, each with their own thoughts. Huw and Marged thought about the return of their son Eynon. Bleddyn and Hetty’s thoughts were with both Johnny, and on Taff, lost early in the conflict. As they finally walked home through the still crowded streets, Marged summed it up. ‘A time for laughter and tears,’ she said. Then, ‘Now we must get the street parties organized. Our street doesn’t have many children, so we’re going to share with the one behind. We’ve made a list of who will lend trestle tables and tablecloths and –’

  ‘For Heaven’s sake, Marged,’ Huw intenupted with a laugh. ‘Let us enjoy today before starting on next week, can’t you?’

  * * *

  Drunks roamed the streets late that evening. Some happily celebrating, others trying to drown memories of sons and brothers and fathers who would never come home. There were still children who cried, confused by the day and unsettled by the unusual behaviour of their families. No one thought about bedtime. Everyone stayed out in the streets until long after midnight had chimed. About 3 a.m., night finally settled over a weary, shabby town that would wake to a world that had been transformed by a few words into a town filled with hope.

  Cassie celebrated alone. She opened a bottle of port and set a tray with a half-full bottle of whisky, two glasses and some food, and waited for Joseph to come, convinced he would leave his desk and come home to share the moment with her. He was only in Cardiff, no more than an hour’s journey. There had been a time when he would have walked it to be with her. He should have come to share this moment with her. He didn’t work twenty-four hours in each day. At midnight she went up the stairs to her cold, empty bed and tried to pretend she understood.

  Alice went back to her two rooms in Holby Street and sat for a long time in the dark, her anxious heart racing, and wondered how Eynon would greet her. Would he be disappointed in her? She was no beauty and perhaps his memory had distorted her in his mind into someone more lovely. Memory was not always truthful, and the men were sure to have exaggerated the wonders of the girl they left behind. Eynon could have made her into a person she couldn’t live up to, someone clever, beautiful and – she shied away from the word ‘sexy’, but her imagination led her to the bed they would share. All her thoughts had been fears of Eynon not loving her and for the first time she wondered if perhaps she would find it difficult to get into those cold sheets with a man who was almost a stranger. Unable to settle, she wrapped herself in a blanket and sat in the one comfortable chair. She took out Eynon’s letters and read them through until her eyes grew heavy and sleep overcame her.

  Stanley came home late, having spent the evening with Myrtle and Maude and Auntie Audrey. He crept in, trying not to disturb Eirlys and Ken, and didn’t see Percival sitting near the remnants of the fire, wrapped in
a coat belonging to Morgan. When he heard his brother close the bedroom door, Percival pushed sticks into the dying ashes and added some logs. He tried to work out what would happen to him. Would he be taken back to London and left there? Would his brothers be with him? His mam was dead and he imagined living on his own in one of the sad little rooms in which he had spent his early years. Tears trickled down his face, he was one of the few for whom the day’s news was not joyful.

  Shirley walked back through the town with her mother and stepfather, singing in her sweet confident voice to the entertainment of the passers-by. Some recognized her and called. Others asked for a favourite song to be sung. She obliged them all, glad to avoid her thoughts. Like Alice she wondered what would happen on the day the men came home. She and Freddy Clements had kept up a regular correspondence throughout the almost six years of war. Freddy, who had once been engaged to Beth Castle, had joined the Army with Eynon, both signing for three years. Any agreement about years of service had been forgotten and now they expected to be demobbed with the rest. Letters in which people told their innermost thoughts were no substitute for a courtship and, although she had a strong affection for Freddy, she didn’t know whether she wanted to share the rest of her life with him. She also didn’t know whether he wanted to share his life with her. They signed their letters with love, but affection written on a page to someone far away, and true love-you-for-ever love, and love-you-above-all-others love, were different. Freddy hadn’t replied to her offer to find him a temporary place to stay. In a cowardly mood, she decided to go and talk to Ken Ward to see whether he could fix her up with a long tour of concerts. If she were out of town when Freddy came home, he would find somewhere to live, and get a job, without her involvement. He could wander around, reacquaint himself with his home town and plan his future. Satisfied she had at least made a decision, she slept. She woke a few hours later to the realization that she held his savings. If she ran away, he would think the worst. Whatever happened later, she would have to be there when he came home.

 

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