Holidays at Home Omnibus
Page 162
Alice quickly sat him on a chair, a scarf tied first around his waist, then through the rungs of the chair to hold him safely but securely. He was quickly given a sheet of paper and some pencils and the boys settled to entertain him. Eirlys noted with amusement that the food was set out at one end and her lively son sat at the other.
‘You’ve done this before,’ she said with a chuckle.
Once the kettle had boiled and the tea made, they all began to eat while Alice surreptitiously watched Eirlys.
‘I’m anxious about the future too, Eirlys,’ she said later when Harold was reading to Anthony with Percival making the necessary farm animal noises. ‘I don’t know how Eynon will feel about me after all this time. He was so young when we met and like a lot of people we married in such haste too. He won’t be the same person, will he? And neither will I.’
‘Ken and I have changed. It’s this damned war, Alice. I’m not the same person he married. I’ve experienced the joy of having a career, not just a job to earn a little extra money, but a responsible position, one I filled successfully. I can’t go back to being a housewife and mother. It isn’t enough.’
‘You still love Ken, though?’
Eirlys sighed. ‘We’ve had such a stormy relationship. First it was on, then off, then on. The affair with Janet ruined my confidence in us, and the truth is, I can’t escape from the resentment I felt then. That doesn’t make me a very nice person, does it, Alice?’
‘Ken, your marriage; aren’t they worth fighting for?’
‘You would? You’d fight to keep Eynon whatever happened?’
Alice stared at her for a long time then said, ‘I’m thinking of offering him his freedom, if that’s what he wants.’
‘What? You’re crazy.’
‘What’s happened to him these past years will have changed him. If I’m no longer what he wants I’ll let him go. He might not want me, the quiet, unexciting wife, the beach and the regular routine of the summer season year after year.’ She sang then: ‘“How’er we gonner keep them, down on the farm, now that they’ve seen Pareee.” It makes you think, doesn’t it?’ she added sadly.
‘Damned Hitler.’
* * *
Cassie received a large consignment of bed linen and towels and other household items on Friday evening after the shops were closed. Joseph and the van driver shared the boxes and bundles between the two premises and left her to sort out the muddle. She ran to find Alice and asked her to help her arrange the new stock to enable her to open the following morning. Although Alice worked in the office, she still helped when she could.
‘No room to move if we don’t put it in some kind of order,’ she explained.
‘More damaged stock for coupons-free sales?’ Alice asked as they began pushing the boxes around to give themselves space to work. They chatted as they worked, planning where and how they would find room for it all. Cassie opened a box to check the contents and fell silent.
‘What is it?’ Alice asked.
‘Joseph told me it was ex-army, surplus to requirements now Germany’s defeated, so I expected browns and khaki, but look at this.’ She pulled a cellophane-covered bed-sheet from a box. It was white and had a border of pink gingham. ‘Some Army, eh?’ She closed the box and pushed them all to the back of the shop. ‘No, Alice, I don’t like the look of this. I’ve had my doubts before, but Joseph assured me it was all legal, but this? I’m not selling this and risk being put in prison. Rationing and restrictions didn’t end when the peace treaty was signed as well we know.’
‘What will you do?’
‘Tomorrow I’ll close the shop and go to Cardiff. This little lot is going back where it came from. Joseph might be gullible enough to believe it’s honest but I’m not. He’s a fool to be taken in by someone offering this as Army surplus. Pink? For serving soldiers? Never!’
‘Lucky he’s got you looking after him,’ Alice said as they began moving the boxes out of sight. ‘I’ll come with you if you like?’
‘No, Alice, dear. But thanks.’ She needed to go alone, her Joseph was far from gullible. He’d have known exactly what he was buying, and understood what he was asking when he delivered stolen goods to the shops. That house in Gratton Street would be used as a warehouse, no doubt about it. That was why she hadn’t been told about it and later discouraged from visiting it. But this time she wouldn’t be put off.
In Cardiff, Cassie didn’t reach the house in Gratton Street. She saw Joseph at the station. He and a young woman were wrapped in each other’s arms and when a train puffed its noisy way to the platform, he kissed her fondly before helping her on to the train.
She stood and waited while he waved the train out of sight and then, as he turned, she stepped in front of him and asked. ‘Joseph, who was that?’ She was trembling, and her voice sounded strange even to herself. Surely he was too old to be having an affair? Bed had been of little importance to him and she hadn’t minded settling for cuddles instead. He was sixty, and the girl was no more than thirty. She must be a close friend. Perhaps Joseph knew the girl’s husband – a business partner perhaps. All these disjointed thoughts flew through her head as she waited for Joseph to explain.
‘She’s called Joanna Lee-Jones.’
‘And who’s Joanna Lee-Jones when she’s home?’
‘A partner, someone I work with.’
‘I see.’
‘She’s going to London to finalize a deal on blankets and eiderdowns. Very lucrative if she carries it off, and she will. She’s very persuasive.’
‘I see.’
‘I was just on my way to see you. What are you doing here?’ he asked as though just realizing where they had met.
‘On my way to see you, Joseph. I can’t sell the stuff you delivered yesterday. I closed the shop to come and tell you to take it away. Whoever sold it to you as Army surplus was lying. It’s probably stolen. And what’s more, you knew that when you brought it for me to sell.’
‘Nonsense, Cassie. You do fuss so. It was taken from a shop that had been hit by a flying bomb. I discarded the worst of it and sent you the best. No coupons were needed, so you should be able to sell it with ease.’
‘I can sell some to Constable Charlie Groves, can I? He’s getting married and, so long as it’s legal, he’d be pleased to buy some bedding edged with pink gingham. ‘Specially if I tell him it’s Army surplus and pink is the soldiers’ favourite colour!’
‘You can sell it to the Chief Constable himself, Cassie. Now for goodness’ sake stop fussing and let’s get home.’ He pushed his way impatiently through the crowded platform, leaving her to follow in his wake. She believed him, because she wanted to, but her heart was heavy, and, she would not offer any of her new stock to Constable Charlie Groves. Joseph was not that convincing, she told herself sadly; about the stock or Joanna Lee-Jones.
Eight
Cassie spent the rest of that day working with Joseph but they weren’t in accord. They slept in the same bed but neither moved or reached out for the other. Breakfast was as silent as the night had been. When the time came for him to leave she waited in the hope of some affection or at least thanks for all she was doing to increase their business, but he refused the cup of tea and snack she prepared, avoided kissing her and left with nothing more than a casual wave. She began to be afraid.
* * *
Eirlys was still working alongside Ralph. To make his presence felt he planned to continue the programme of entertainments for the townspeople through the autumn and winter. He seemed to have accepted her reminder that fund-raising and morale raising was still important. The idea seemed reasonable but not the things he chose to do. He seemed unable to grasp the basic principle that the intention was enjoyment. He suggested plays and concerts that were heavy in content and to which few showed interest. Eirlys watched, helped when asked, made suggestions, most of which were ignored, and fervently hoped he would grow tired of it all and leave.
She wrote to Ken regularly but still hadn’t mentio
ned losing her job. Not telling him at once made it difficult to broach the subject now. She foolishly hoped that if Ralph found the job too much for him, he would leave, she would be reinstated and Ken need never know. When Hannah asked about her situation one lunch-hour in the gift shop, she made the excuse that Ken wouldn’t understand. Alice was there, and Shirley was trying on a partly stitched dress Hannah was making for her to wear at a concert later that month.
‘He doesn’t understand just how much I loved my job,’ Eirlys said in response to a question.
‘Oh I think he does,’ Shirley said with unusual sarcasm. ‘Refusing to follow him where his career took him, that was a mighty big clue, I’d say!’
‘Ralph isn’t doing very well,’ Eirlys said to Alice, ignoring Shirley’s remark. ‘I don’t think they’ll want me to leave just yet.’
‘Leave? You won’t go back to being a typist, then?’
‘I can’t. When Ralph decides he no longer needs me, I’ll leave.’
‘Have you decided what you’ll do when that happens?’ Hannah asked.
‘I’ll manage at home for a while, there’s plenty of time.’
‘Without money? That won’t be much fun!’
A woman entered; a young woman carrying a white stick was holding on to her arm. Hannah went forward to serve while Alice placed a chair for the young woman to sit.
‘My daughter needs a toy for her niece. Can you help?’ the mother asked. Alice and Eirlys hesitated but Hannah said at once. ‘I’ll be delighted. Now, what is your favourite colour?’ While a discussion took place with Hannah describing the various shades of blue in the soft toys on display and going into detail about them, the mother interspersed the conversation with the explanation that her daughter, who served in the WRAF, had been wounded when an airfield had been bombed. ‘It isn’t permanent,’ she said although she brushed tears from her eyes and shook her head to deny her words. ‘An operation in a few months’ time will give her back at least some sight, and that’s what we’re all waiting for, eh, Marion?’
Marion chose a couple of small teddies, one blue and one pink, which Hannah assured her would be perfect for a little girl, and they watched the tearful mother help the girl out of the shop.
‘Sometimes we’re reminded about how trivial our worries are,’ Eirlys said solemnly.
‘Eynon and Ronnie were wounded but not badly; poor Taff died, but the rest of us are safe,’ Hannah added, crossing her fingers so tightly they hurt. They discussed their various worries about the imminent arrival and, in Eirlys’s case the recent departure, of their men, sobered by the incident of the seriously injured young woman.
* * *
Something happened at the beginning of August that made people forget their small problems. Something that horrified the whole nation.
An atomic bomb was dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima, wiping out an area so completely that nothing recognizable remained. It was closely followed by a similar attack on Nagasaki, and the Japanese surrendered. The war had finally ended, almost exactly six years after it had begun.
When the aftermath of shock and shame had eased, and families began to prepare for more homecomings, a final end to the fears of the past six years, people once again began to make preparations to mark the occasion. Street parties were quickly arranged to mark what was known as V.J. Day, Victory over Japan Day. But for many, the pictures of the devastation took the edge off the celebrations; even the publication of the skeletal prisoners of war from many Allied nations didn’t altogether ease the public conscience. But for the children, and for those awaiting the return of loved ones, it was something to celebrate.
Hannah and the others spent a lot of time in the gift shop making more bunting. The small, multi-coloured flags were made from every oddment of material they could find. ‘If the townspeople look up,’ Alice said with a chuckle, ‘many would see flags to match their new blouse, or that nightdress you made for their daughter!’
Cassie sold the last of her collection of flags and grieved silently as the final celebration approached without Joseph making the effort to share it with her. He was always too busy to get home these days and she wondered whether Joanna Lee-Jones was the reason. Alice called to see her often and if she guessed, she said nothing, just casually promised to help her if she ever needed it. Cassie was grateful. There might come a time when just having someone to talk to would be important.
* * *
While amidst deafening noise the children were being fitted with home-made paper hats, tables were being spread out along the street and the food was being brought out, Freddy Clements quietly arrived at the station. He wore a demob suit and carried a small bag, and he didn’t know where to go. If he didn’t belong here, then where else could he go? St David’s Well had been his home, but no longer; now he didn’t have a destination in mind, just a hope of finding somewhere to stay, a room, somewhere he could sit and sort out what he was going to do.
He wanted to see Shirley, but didn’t want to appear suddenly. After years of letter-writing, he didn’t know how she would receive him. Letters from miles away, signed ‘with love’, were a wartime need, a lifeline, but now the war was over, they might be irrelevant.
He walked through the streets, stopping to admire the efforts of the people setting up the various parties, each trying to out-do others. He stood for a long time staring up at the house he used to call home. It looked much the same apart from brighter, more cheerful curtains. He went down the back lane and saw washing on the line, underwear and dresses like his mother would never have worn. With a regretful thought on his parents’ passing he wandered on. He saw a poster advertising a concert and saw that the top of the bill was Shirley Downs. He bought a ticket, then found himself a small hotel and booked in for two nights.
* * *
Since seeing Andy and attempting to set up a meeting with his brother, Shirley hadn’t seen the runaway. She doubted her sanity on occasions, and on others felt anger both with him for tormenting her and with Reggie and her mother and stepfather for not believing that she had seen him.
She was sitting in her dressing room with others getting into their costumes for the opening number, feeling restless and trying to recite words of a poem she used to calm herself and isolate herself from the frantic activity backstage. ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud…’ She saw herself lying on the couch and felt the peace of the scene invade her.
When she was prepared, she walked through the ancient corridors of the theatre and stood in the wings to watch the girls’ dance routine, remembering the time before the accident when she had been able to dance. Then she peered through the curtains at the side of the stage and stared into the audience. The stage was bright but after a while she could see the faces and there, in the third row, was Andy. Angry and determined to stop his tormenting, aware that there were forty minutes yet before she needed to be ready for her act, she went around and walked along the back of the seats. She knew that Maude and Reggie were in the audience that evening. If she could find them and point Andy out to them they would have to believe her.
Minutes passed and she tried in vain to spot Reggie. He had to be there. The dress circle was closed, he had to be here, in the stalls, but where? With ten minutes before she was on stage, she gave up and went back to the wings where an anxious producer waited for her.
‘Where have you been, Shirley? I thought you’d been taken ill or something.’
‘No, I’ve been trying to trap a ghost,’ she replied, and refused to add anything further.
Like the professional she was, she put aside all thoughts of Andy and his brother and sang three songs to a delighted audience. She was appearing in the finale and, assuring the producer she would be back, she went once again into the stalls.
An interval was called and it was then she saw them. Maude and Reggie with Stanley and Myrtle, coming towards her heading for the door.
‘Your brother is in the middle of the third row,’ she told Reggie and, witho
ut a word, Reggie left the others and pushed his way through the crowd all heading towards the door. The three rows were empty.
Hidden in a group of chattering girls. Andy watched and smiled. He would see his brother but not yet. He was having fun with Shirley and when he owned up and she forgave him… His thoughts drifted towards a wonderful ending in which she fell into his arms.
‘As I expected, Shirley, he wasn’t there,’ Reggie said quietly when he rejoined her. ‘Please stop this. You’re making yourself ill and it isn’t doing me much good, raising my hopes of finding my brother alive, then dashing them again. Just stop it. Please?’
‘I know Andy’s alive. He’s tormenting me for some reason known only to him. One day you’ll find out I’m right.’
She sang her final three numbers and an encore, then joined the rest of the cast and the audience with a few more, before standing for the National Anthem and leaving the stage. The seat on the third row remained empty.
Outside the stage door, Reggie and the others were waiting. ‘Come home with us?’ Maude invited, after they had all congratulated her on her performance.
‘No, I have a taxi waiting and I need to be on my own to calm down or I won’t be able to sleep.’ She glared at Reggie before adding, ‘I’ll see you soon.’ She stepped into the waiting taxi and waved as it moved away. Reggie shook his head and the four friends walked off to the railway station.
Not far away from where they stood, Freddy Clements also watched until the lights of the taxi faded.
The taxi only took her to the railway station and she stood on the platform, urging the train to hurry, hoping the others wouldn’t catch her up. She needed to be alone. The train was full but she found a corner seat and stared unseeing out of the window. Lights of passing cars and buses were seen and occasionally a lighted house or small village. She knew the trees and fields were there but in the darkness they were invisible. Like Andy, except when he wants to be seen, she thought with growing irritation.