Although pleased to see her friend so easy with the people she met, Sophie began to wonder whether Daphne would ever leave. The original invitation, for two or three days, had stretched past the weekend and halfway through the next week and she was still making no move to return home.
‘The trouble is,’ Daphne explained when she broached the subject, ‘I’m bored out of my mind. Returning home and going back to the office where I dealt with allocations of foodstuff was interesting enough for a time, but now, having travelled, seen other places and met new people, I feel trapped. So I’ve decided to leave, I’ve written to telling them of my intention, and I’m hoping they’ll agree to my working out my notice during the holiday. It will only mean going back for a week if they don’t, and I wasn’t that good,’ she admitted with her loud laugh. ‘I just can’t go back to everything I’ve left, everyone expecting me to settle back in again.’
‘It was the opposite for me,’ Sophie explained. ‘No chance for me to settle back into how things were before. I came back to nothing and no one.’
‘Hardly no one, surely?’ Daphne asked curiously, but her words were ignored.
‘I needed a base,’ Sophie went on, ‘and I think I’ve found it here. But I don’t think Cwm Derw offers what you need, it’s hardly a place of variety, of excitement. Boredom is never far away.’
‘Would you mind if I gave it a try?’ Daphne asked and at once added. ‘Not here, sharing your home. But if I could find a place to stay, would you find my presence an intrusion? Please tell me, I prefer people to be straight.’
‘I’d love it if you were near, so we could meet and share some time together, but no, you’re right about my not wanting you to live here. I need the solitude. Besides, I’d have to ask my landlord, and Geoff might not approve of my inviting someone to share.’
‘Betty Connors wants someone to live in at the Ship and Compass. Just company through the nights, no work. So I’d have to find a job, and pay her rent. Shall I go and talk to her?’
‘What a good idea!’
Betty agreed immediately and, with relief and some regret, Sophie waved goodbye to her visitor and settled back into her quiet days.
The garden was producing an amazing amount of food, and, although the arrangement was for Bob to work it and take all he grew, he was generous with Sophie, leaving vegetables and salad stuff on the doorstep for her most days. On the days she wasn’t at school, she helped, finding pleasure in working the ground and nurturing the new growth.
On Saturdays Bertie began to appear again, and Bob gave him some simple tasks, enjoying the boy’s growing interest.
‘Tell him a thing once and he’s got it for ever,’ he said one late evening, as Bertie ran off home, clutching some young carrots and a sixpence. ‘He seems to have a great interest in the land. Such a pity he hasn’t grown up on the farm, eh?’
‘Life isn’t always fair.’
‘A father who doesn’t even know of his existence and a mother who’s too unhappy to cope. What chance does he have to grow into a well-adjusted man?’
‘A better one with you taking an interest, Bob,’ Sophie told him. ‘The saddest thing is that I have the feeling Owen would have been happier, too, if he’d accepted him and been a father to the boy.’
‘Too late now though.’
To Sophie’s surprise Sarah called to see her a few days later and asked for her help.
‘I’ll do anything I can,’ Sophie promised, wondering what was to come.
‘It’s Bertie. I’ve made a career of self-pity and I’ve neglected him. He needs more than I’m giving him and I want to change things, so I can improve our lives. Working in the factory and spending so much time away from him has become such a habit, I’ve hardly been aware of how cruel I’ve been.’
‘Not cruel! Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve tried to do what’s best for him. He knows you love him.’
‘I’ve tried to make a fresh start several times. Moving to a cheaper room was always done with the intention of saving, getting us somewhere decent. But I seem incapable of managing however low the rent. I borrow and still owe arrears on the bills. I don’t know why it happens, but this time I want to get it right, The room is awful and Bertie deserves better.’
‘He understands, even though he’s only a child.’
‘But he’d like to run home from school and find me waiting for him?’
‘Of course. He wouldn’t call on me if you were there, believe me.’
‘All this time I’ve earned a good wage, but I’ve wasted it being sorry for myself, going to the pictures, buying clothes I don’t need, meeting friends for a good moan, you know what I mean.’
‘We can all fall into that trap,’ Sophie said with a comforting smile. ‘So, what’s the plan?’
‘I saw an advertisement for a part-time sales assistant at the dress shop and wondered whether I should apply.’
‘Have you worked in a shop before?’
‘Oh yes. I was a manageress before I married. Not dresses, mind, but selling is selling, and I was quite good at it.’
‘What did you sell?’
Sarah looked a bit embarrassed. ‘Pots and pans, kitchen goods, in a department store,’ she said with a grin.
‘Well, selling is selling,’ Sophie agreed with a laugh, and Sarah joined in.
Sophie stared at her. In some inexplicable way the decision to leave the factory and work fewer hours so she could take better care of her son had changed Sarah. It was as though she had stepped out of the shadows. She looked younger and far more attractive: the smile had eased away the frown lines, her hair was freshly washed and shinning like gold. Perhaps, like Bertie, she had needed to know someone cared enough to help. The little Sophie had done, and perhaps the intervention of Tommy, had been enough.
They talked about the possibilities for a while, and Sophie promised to be there whenever she was needed. ‘Between us we can make sure Bertie is safe,’ she said, brushing aside Sarah’s thanks. ‘I’ll be at the school, at least for a while, so I’ll be in a perfect situation to keep an eye on him, although, like you, I feel the need for something to change.’
‘Go back and finish your training then.’ Sarah laughed again, relishing the friendliness of this quiet, gentle woman. Then, her eyes shining with merriment, she added, ‘Oh, just listen to me! Talk about cheek! The thing is, I feel so different about everything, I feel I can solve everyone’s problems as well as my own.’
‘Good luck at the dress shop,’ Sophie said.
*
Sarah dressed with care on the day she was to see Nerys Bowen, the owner of the dress shop. She looked with dismay at her wardrobe, which lived in boxes pushed under the bed. She had bought so many garments that were completely unsuitable. How could she have been so stupid, and for so long? She borrowed the householder’s iron and set it on the fire to heat, having chosen a pink blouse and a floral dirndl skirt. She also ironed two of Bertie’s shirts and wished she’d spent money on buying him something decent instead of second-hand clothes that were never a good fit. But her eyes were opened now and things would be different from today. She hid her anxiety and, exuding confidence, she breezed her way through the questions with ease. Nerys Bowen seemed content with her replies and laughed with her when she cheerfully told her she had previously sold saucepans. It was clear the two women would work well together and Sarah was told straight away that the job was hers.
She told Nerys about being a mother on her own and quickly explained that she was no honourable war widow but a woman separated from her husband because of her own stupidity.
‘Do the job and that part of your life is your own business,’ Nerys said.
‘Bertie will be pleased I won’t have to leave him on his own so much. Factory hours have been hard on him.’
‘A boy needs his mother,’ Nerys said softly.
And a father, too, Sarah thought, but she didn’t speak the words aloud. It was too late for that.
*
He washed the carrots under the tap in the shared kitchen and chomped his way through them as he sat and waited for his mother to return. He heard her humming a favourite tune as she came in, adding words occasionally: ‘Sing a song of sunbeams, let the notes fall where they may, la, la la, la la, la, Oh it’s such a lovely day.’ She added her own words, as she often did. ‘Hello, Bertie, where have you been?’
‘Sitting waiting for you,’ he replied grumpily.
‘I’m glad you’re here. I’ve news for you. I’m leaving the factory and the awful hours spent away from you, my darling boy, and I’ve got a new job. Isn’t that great? No more awkward shifts. I’ll be here when you come home from school. What about that, then?’
‘What job?’ he asked huffily.
‘A dress shop, would you believe? I’ll have to spend a bit on clothes – I wasted so much on things I’ll never wear. I can’t wear my usual old stuff, it won’t be hidden by an overall any more.’
‘Can I have those shoes?’
‘Yes, with this week’s wages, and that’s a promise.’
‘Anything to eat?’ he asked.
‘Not much, love, but once I get us sorted we’ll be fine.’
‘Will we be able to move from here?’
‘One day. One day soon. I’ll be earning less but I’ll manage on what I earn and put aside what – what goes into the bank for us – and before you know it we’ll be rich enough to move to somewhere with a garden. We might even have a dog, what about that, eh? I’ve really made up my mind. You’ll see.’ She didn’t tell him she had also agreed to clean the floors and brass in Betty Connors’s public house. It would be hard and would mean being out of the house almost as much as before, although at more reasonable times, but they’d need the money if she really was going to make things better for them both. And she would. ‘This time I’ve really made up my mind,’ she repeated firmly.
They went to the shop on Saturday morning and bought the new shoes for Bertie. Unthinkingly, she moaned all the way home about how expensive they were, and how buying them had prevented her paying off the arrears owed to the coalman and milkman. He felt so guilty it was hard not to cry.
At school on Monday morning he was teased about his shoes, and on the way home he slipped into a muddy ditch with water up to his knees. When he got home he took them off and put them in the hearth, washed his feet as well as he could in cold water, and sat waiting for Sarah to come home.
She was about to shout and rage at his stupidity but a glance at the over-filled boxes protruding from under the bed reminded her how much she had wasted. She handed him the ration book and said, ‘You go to the shop and get a tin of soup and I’ll try to clean them up, OK?’
*
Feeling the need to tell her estranged family about her change of occupation and determination to improve her life, she went to the farm after walking Bertie to school one morning. As she had hoped, Owen wasn’t there. Only Rachel, sorting out some overalls that needed repair, and Tommy, who could be heard swishing water through the milking sheds some distance away.
‘What d’you want, Sarah?’ Rachel asked without warmth.
‘I wanted to tell you I’ve left the factory and intend to be at home when Bertie comes home from school. Tommy found him in the woods one day and it made me realize I needed to be home more than I have been. Tell him, will you?’
‘I’ll give Mr Treweather your message,’ she replied pointedly. ‘And if you’ve come to ask for more money from Owen, you’ll have to see him about it.’
‘I have a job. Two, in fact. And although both together they won’t pay as much as I earned at the factory, I’ll cope. Tommy made me realize how I’ve neglected my son, and I won’t make that mistake again. Tell him, will you?’ She turned from the door – obviously she wasn’t going to be invited inside.
‘Come in, if you’ve time,’ Rachel called and, surprised, Sarah stopped, a harsh remark at the tip of her tongue. Then she saw the expression on Rachel’s face and held it in check.
‘Five minutes,’ she replied; she didn’t want to appear grateful.
The heavy kettle was always simmering on the edge of the fire on the large oven range, and Rachel slid it closer to the heat. When it boiled she tilted it to fill the teapot. Sarah sat in silence as tea was poured and a slab of cake cut into slices.
‘I’ve found a job in Nerys Bowen’s shop, part time, so I’ll be there for Bertie a bit more,’ she said when Rachel sat in the large armchair close to the fire.
‘Selling clothes? But you haven’t had any experience.’
‘I’ve sold saucepans.’
At last, a hint of a smile. ‘Different sales patter needed then?’
‘I’ll learn. And I’m also cleaning in the Ship and Compass a couple of mornings, while Bertie’s at school. I’ll have to think of some arrangement for school holidays, but Sophie at Badgers Brook has promised to help.’
‘Do you have to do both jobs?’
‘Of course. As I said, even with the two jobs I won’t be earning as much as the factory work, but looking back I’m ashamed of how much I wasted. I’ll have to be more careful if I’m to get us out of that sad little room to somewhere better. Bertie deserves it and I’m determined to find somewhere before the year is out.’
‘I wish you luck.’ It wasn’t said unkindly and Sarah thanked her. ‘Your son, he’s well, is he?’
‘Physically he’s fine, but I don’t think he’s happy. The children at school tease him. Having no father is a heaven-sent gift for bullies, and he hasn’t been dressed as well as he should be. My fault, all of it.’ She stood to leave, wondering why she had succumbed to the ever-present need to talk to someone and confessed her failings to the very person she shouldn’t, who would never ever see her point of view or feel even the slightest sympathy.
To her surprise, Rachel stood and helped her on with her coat. Keeping her hand on Sarah’s shoulder, holding her there a moment longer, she said, ‘Owen was dreadfully hurt by what happened while he was away, and he was too stubborn to forget. And you didn’t help, mind, running away before giving him a chance. No one need have known if he’d been able to accept it. Believe it or not, Sarah, I tried to persuade him to reconsider his rejection of the boy. He isn’t Bertie’s father, and nothing will change that, but I pointed out that he is half yours, and that won’t change either.’
‘Thank you,’ Sarah whispered as she hurried through the door, fearful now of seeing Owen, or even Tommy, and being warned once again to stay away.
*
Elsie and Ed’s wedding had not taken place. Twice the service had been arranged but each time Elsie had been unwell and it had been cancelled. Ed spent a lot of time at the B&B, and Daphne slipped into the role of Betty’s assistant. After going back to work her weeks notice, which her boss had insisted upon, she had found work in the offices of a garage and had bought herself a car, which she offered to Betty for occasions when Ed was using his car, to which Betty had previously had access.
Settling in the town of Cwm Derw and living in a public house was something that amazed her sometimes. When she wrote her weekly letter to her mother and told her what had happened during the week it all sounded so dull, yet she had never been happier. The only disappointment was the departure of Gareth Treweather. She had begun to imagine that they might become close one day.
*
Learning that Sarah had left the factory and its beguilingly high wages made Sophie consider her own situation. She had enough money to live on, and she earned a little making her preserves, but looking ahead, she knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Everyone was getting settled and it was time she did the same. But what could she do? Returning to college and completing her training seemed so long term; she wanted
something now. Ideas drifted through her mind but none stayed. The school seemed the right place for the moment.
She had her base; Badgers Brook had welcomed her like a much-loved, secure haven, but there had to be somewhere outside where she would feel needed and useful. She enjoyed the hours she spent in school and it was there she would stay until something more enticing appeared.
*
Owen came in from the fields where he had been checking on the sheep and heard loud, angry voices coming from the parlour. He stopped, calling back the dogs, who had followed him into the kitchen, and, shutting them outside, closed the door as silently as he could, without fastening the latch. Then he crept into the hall and close to the parlour door to listen.
‘I thought now Gareth had gone you’d stay. You can’t really be planning to leave us without help? Owen and a couple of untrained boys, that’s no way to run a farm. It’s a family business, you’ve always understood that. You can’t walk away from your birthright.’
‘But you’ve known for months what I’ve been planning!’ Ryan said, his voice loud with exasperation. ‘I’m leaving to train as a teacher. I realized while I was in the forces that farming isn’t what I want to do with the rest of my life. Rearing animals and sending them off to be killed – there has to be a better way.’
‘It’s that girl. Those are her words. She’s confused you,’ Rachel said.
Ignoring the remark Ryan turned to his father and said. ‘Look, I’ll be away during the week but home most weekends. I’ll do what I can to help then, but that’s all I can promise, right?’
A New Beginning Page 11
