Gladys went from the Lewises’ to her daughter’s house and back again hoping for news, bending the taxi driver’s ear about the selfishness of the younger generation.
When they were once again gathered in Dora’s house where she and Sian were making their last-minute preparations for the wedding on the following day, the only news was another card, this time from London. Ignored by Sian and Dora, who were frantically checking food lists for their largest and most important occasion, Gladys made herself a cup of tea and demanded to know what they were going to do about Jack.
“Jack’s too old for us to send out a search party, Mother,” Sian said rather more sharply than usual. “Now could you go in the other room while I take these pastries out of the oven? I don’t want to risk dropping them on the floor.”
“What are they thinking of?” Gladys wailed from the doorway. “It’s that girl’s idea, all this. I know it. That’s what you get when you marry beneath you!”
“Oh, Mother,” Sally sighed, wiping her arm across her hot forehead, “Forget Jack and think about Joan. Tomorrow she is getting married to Viv, who is hardworking, clever and who loves her. Let’s concentrate on that, shall we?”
“And there’s another one, that Vivian Lewis.” Gladys seemed to have forgotten she was standing only a few feet from Viv’s mother. “Refusing to hold their reception in Montague Court, indeed. As if what he wants should matter a toss! Why can’t you see what a disaster it all is?”
“Mother! I’m worried about my son, I’ll be relieved when he and Victoria come home and explain, but, as Sally pointed out, Dora and I have a wedding to deal with tomorrow, and what can I do about Jack and Victoria anyway? Except wait and hope that they return without coming to any harm?”
“Harm? You think they’re in danger?”
“No, Mother,” Sian interrupted, “but you might be! Please move back a bit, I want to put these hot baking trays outside.”
“You shouldn’t be doing this for your niece’s wedding, Sian. And what about the arrangements already made for Jack’s wedding?” Gladys went on. “Do I confirm them? It’s only a couple of weeks away.”
“Put everything on hold,” Sally said, and Sian agreed.
“Tell everyone we’ll let them know when we know ourselves.”
“That should give the gossips something to chew over,” Dora chuckled. “You Westons are having quite a time of it, aren’t you?”
“If people knew their place none of this would have happened!”
Dora’s blue eyes took on a warning sparkle and she took a deep breath to respond, but instead she shared a smile with Sian and let the matter drop. Wherever Jack was, and whatever trouble he was making, the wedding of her son, to Gladys’s granddaughter, was starting in about fifteen hours and that had to be everyone’s priority.
* * *
The morning of the wedding day began with moist, thin cloud which burned away as the sun rose and strengthened. Gladys looked out of her bedroom window and wondered how it would all turn out. She had to admit that even if Viv wasn’t a son of one of the better families in Pendragon Island, he was honest and he certainly had a good understanding of business. She went downstairs in her dressing gown to make her morning cup of tea, a routine she still hated not having done for her, and made up her mind that she would enjoy the day and think positively about her darling Joan’s future.
At least they hadn’t invited Rhiannon’s awful new boyfriend, a convicted thief. He wouldn’t go to the church, would he? She shuddered delicately at the thought. What were the Lewises thinking about, allowing their daughter to mix with such people? A convict was what he was, and there was no wrapping that up in delicate words to make it acceptable. The Lewises were about to be related to the Westons, surely they ought to show a bit of social conscience?
When she walked into the church, the first person she saw was Rhiannon. She sighed with relief to see that the seat beside her was empty. At least she’d had the decency to leave that Charlie Bevan out of it. Gladys studied Rhiannon and admitted to herself the girl was looking very pretty. She wore a flouncy blue silk dress with a low neck, frilled with paler blue ruffles, and a hat that seemed to frame her thick red-brown hair and make it look more luxuriant. The Lewises were quite handsome, if in a common way, so at least Joan’s children would be beautiful.
She turned away to smile regally at the other guests as they arrived and were seen to their places by the ushers. Turning back to Rhiannon she covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. Charlie was there and with him his son, Gwyn. Gwyn sat beside Rhiannon but Charlie walked towards the front pew and stood there beside an elegantly dressed and startlingly handsome Viv. Surely they couldn’t – they wouldn’t – She turned to clutch Arfon’s arm and whispered, “Arfon, dear. Tell me, please tell me I’m mistaken. They haven’t asked that Charlie person to be best man, have they?”
“Afraid so, my dear. Grin and bear it. This is Joan and Viv’s day and the choice has to be theirs.”
Gladys thought she would never live down the shame, but at that moment, the organist stopped what he was playing and began the wedding march. She turned to see her granddaughter walk through the doors, a vision of loveliness, on her father’s arm, and her twin sister behind her organising a recalcitrant train, and she forgot all her worries and lost herself in utter enjoyment.
* * *
Jack was working in a bar, serving drinks with skills learned in The Railwayman’s over the past weeks. Sitting in the back room, having prepared lunch for the owners of the public house and their family, plus food for a few guests, Victoria sat at a small table on which stood a casserole and dishes of vegetables. She looked up expectantly as the door opened a few moments later and Jack smiled at her, kissed her and sat down opposite to share the meal.
“Are you sorry we’ve missed Joan and Viv’s wedding?” she asked as she served him.
“Not a bit. This is much more fun,” Jack smiled. He looked at his watch. “The wedding’s all over now, except the party tonight and I’m a little bit sorry to miss that, aren’t you?”
“It would have been fun, with all of your friends there.”
“Our friends,” he corrected gently. “Everything I have is yours and that includes my best friends.”
“Oh Jack, this is scary, but it’s fun too. Imagine everyone’s faces if they knew where we were. They’d never believe we were here, in Scotland, waiting to be married in Gretna Green.”
* * *
Jack had perfected his skill as barman during their time in Scotland, and Victoria had learned to cook for a crowd and had enjoyed experimenting with new recipes. In their spare time they had walked around the lovely border countryside and taken photographs and treated the weeks of waiting as a honeymoon but without the loving. That would have to wait, Jack had decided. When they were back in Wales and settled in their own home, then he could introduce her to the magical joy of sharing their lives completely.
He looked at Victoria as she rose to take their dishes over to the large sink below the window. Her hair was escaping from its pins and her face was flushed from cooking. How lucky he was to have found her and faced the criticism and teasing. There would never be a moment in the years ahead when he would forget how lucky he was.
“Come here, Victoria my love,” he whispered. “I have an overwhelming desire to kiss you.”
Victoria had relaxed and opened out in the absence of Gladys and Arfon and the rest of Jack’s family. Warm and loving, and finding the natural social skills that had previously been hidden by shyness, she had easily made friends among the softly spoken Scots in the friendly border town.
Attending to the bedrooms when guests were staying was nothing new and cooking meals – sometimes at short notice – no longer held terrors for her.
“Nothing could be more terrifying than working for your grandmother, Jack,” she admitted, making him laugh at one of her rare and mild complaints.
Wild flowers, opening a little later than at home, deligh
ted her. And the wild animals with which the fields abounded seemed less afraid and would allow them to step quite close.
“Better not tell Basil, Frank and Ernie,” she warned.
* * *
Frank was working in the house Jack and Victoria had bought to begin their married life. While time dragged a little for them in Scotland, impatient as they were to spread their news, Frank was thinking how quickly the next couple of weeks would pass. He had to finish papering the main bedroom that day to keep to his schedule and it was going hard. He was counting the days to the time Victoria and Jack were due to return and there didn’t seem enough hours in the day or days in the week for him to complete the surprise Jack had arranged for his bride.
He had promised to finish redecorating the whole house and make sure all the furniture was back in place and the curtains re-hung, and time was too short. He was even missing the party to celebrate Viv Lewis’s wedding. If ever a man suffered, he moaned to himself.
If only he had persuaded Ernie to forget Helen for a few nights and help, the task wouldn’t have been so daunting. But he and Ernie were not the friends they once were. He wondered whether Basil might take pity on him and give a hand. To help the job along he promised himself a pint after hanging three more lengths and cheated by choosing short ones.
* * *
Gladys put on a brave expression, but the wedding was a disappointment. Apart from Joan making such a stunningly beautiful bride of course. But the day wasn’t over and there were other shocks awaiting her that day. The first being the arrival of Terrence Jenkins, a cousin of the Jenkinses of Montague Court, on the arm of her other granddaughter, Megan.
The last she had heard of him was a whispered hint from Sally that he had not been very gentlemanly towards Megan. That was after two thugs had invaded her Christmas party and picked a fight with him. Such embarrassment her family had suffered. She frowned at Megan and beckoned her over.
“Why is Terrence here, dear? I thought after his dreadful, loutish behaviour at Christmas he wouldn’t show his face.”
“I invited him, Grandmother.”
“But why?”
“Oh, we had a few misunderstandings and I thought if we cleared them up we might be friends again.”
“I suppose we might give him another chance,” Gladys frowned. She couldn’t face another confrontation at the moment. And, she reminded herself, he is a Jenkins of Montague Court. “Invite him to tea tomorrow,” she added.
Terrence had written several times to Megan and receiving no reply hadn’t deterred him. The letter from Jack, with postcards enclosed which Jack asked him to post in various parts of London and Sussex, was intriguing, and using the excuse of visiting his family, he had arrived at Megan’s door in time to be invited to attend the wedding of Viv and Joan.
He hadn’t been able to forget Megan, and even though he had probably ruined things by his lack of patience, rushing her into taking their friendship too far too soon, he thought it worth another try.
Megan had greeted him coolly when he had knocked on her door, but there had been an expression in her dark eyes that had given him hope, and when he asked her to go with him to have tea at Montague Court with his cousins, Margaret and Edward, she had accepted. That had been a few days ago and now they were attending the wedding of Megan’s sister and, albeit through gritted teeth, Gladys Weston had invited him to tea on the following day.
* * *
Megan had always been as outrageous as her wealth and social position had allowed. Although it had usually been her twin, Joan, who set the pace and dared the most audacious dares, Megan had been a slightly more hesitant but nevertheless willing partner. With Joan married and Jack about to do the same she had felt an upsurge of resentment fired by the fear of loneliness, and opening the door to see Terrence there, smiling his special smile, she had seen a way to bring a bit of excitement into her life.
It was more than the chance to upset her family, although that was something she would enjoy. She knew that amongst the boys and men she had encountered, Terrence Jenkins was the only one with whom she could imagine falling in love. There was a strange restlessness about her, a disturbance of her deepest nerve endings when she saw him, and when he touched her it was electric. Perhaps she wouldn’t need to be alone for long.
* * *
Dora watched her daughter dancing with Charlie and saw a love affair in the making. Charlie was far from handsome. Ordinary-looking in fact, she mused. But then, her Lewis had been the best looking young man in the town and look how far that had got her! Here she was celebrating their son’s wedding on her own and Lewis was skulking about with Nia Martin on his arm, wanting to be part of it all and at the same time wishing he were miles away.
Amid the celebratory chatter and the dancing and laughter, there was an undercurrent of concern for the whereabouts of Jack and Victoria. Mrs Jones, Victoria’s mother was the only one aware of the secret and she smiled to herself as she watched the family discuss the disappearance in their various ways. Another two weeks and they will all know the truth. Two whole weeks. It was a long time to hold the secret. More than two weeks had already passed since they left, each day dragging itself to a close. Not sharing Frank’s workload, she knew that for her, the next two would go so slowly.
* * *
Two weeks after Joan and Viv were married, Victoria and Jack walked down the aisle in the small village of Gretna Green. Their wedding day was as perfect as Jack had promised. A large number of local people who had got to know the young couple turned up to see Victoria arrive at the church in her beautiful dress. And they stayed to cheer and throw flowers as they walked from the church to the Blacksmith’s Shop, an ancient site where the traditional anvil weddings had taken place for centuries.
For this second ceremony, several people dressed up in historic garb and one man played the role of the marriage priest, another became “father of the bride” and sat there looking fierce with a shotgun on his arm, while the happy couple repeated the traditional Scottish oath.
It was all great fun and once it was over they both longed to return home and tell heir friends all about it. But both admitted to feeling the sadness of leaving their new friends behind.
“We’ll be back,” Jack promised her. “Next year perhaps, as an old established married couple, we’ll be back.”
Chapter Twelve
Janet was surprised at the sudden change in Ernie. Since meeting Helen he was anxious to find work and seemed for ever to be asking around begging someone to give him a start. He had tried the woodyard and furniture factory, applied for the post of school caretaker and of assistant gardener at the hospital. He finally found a job, and came running through the yard filled with excitement to tell Janet and Hywel, “I’m going to be a bus conductor. A public servant.”
“But you can’t add to save your life, man!” Hywel said. “Public servant? Public embarrassment you’ll be.”
“No trouble,” Ernie said his eyes bright with excitement. “Teach me, they will, and I want the job so much I’ll be their star pupil, you just watch me.”
“Came in all fuss and feathers and told us he’s got a job,” a smiling Janet told Caroline later. “It’s because of that Helen Gunner. All fired up to be respectable he is. I can hardly believe it.”
“To love someone and want to work for them, that’s wonderful. I’m so pleased for him, Mam.” Caroline’s gentle smile relaxed into sadness.
“Barry worked for you, love,” Janet admonished, reading her daughter’s thoughts. “Whatever his faults you have to admit he worked for you.”
Caroline shook her head sadly. “For himself, not me. He wanted to build up a photography business. That was his dream and Joseph and I weren’t a part of it.”
It was a Sunday morning and the weather was calm. There was no wind and a weak sun bleached colours and presented a peaceful backdrop to the scene. The essence of the day, that special Sunday quiet, reminded people they didn’t have to rush to work, an
d many took the opportunity to stay a little longer in bed and go through the motions of the early morning rituals slowly and sleepily. Outside, where the Griffiths family often took their breakfast of toast and a cup of tea, was warm and still.
Janet and Caroline had taken the card table outside and were shelling peas and peeling potatoes ready for the midday meal and in the oven the meat was beginning to send forth tantalising smells.
They heard a van but neither looked up. It would be Frank, back for something. He was working at Jack’s house and always running out of materials. He had become forgetful in his hurry to get the job done; dashing off very early each morning and having to return to beg or borrow things he had forgotten. Paint brushes that had to be replaced because he’d neglected to wash his own. Sugar soap he’d forgotten to buy, and which he needed to wash walls. Sandpaper for rubbing down. And always rags for wiping up mess.
“What is it this time, Frank? Run out of elbow grease?” Caroline asked, without looking up.
“It isn’t Frank, it’s me,” Barry said. “I’ve come to ask you to come for a walk after lunch. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
Caroline looked startled at seeing him. His visits were becoming less and less frequent. She looked at her mother who nodded imperceptibly before saying,
“In that case, Barry love, you’d better stay and eat with us, unless your Mam is expecting you?”
“No, I don’t go to Mam’s very often. I shift for myself,” Barry replied.
Guessing that there was something very important on Barry’s mind and hoping with fingers crossed so tightly they hurt, that it wasn’t divorce, Janet insisted on looking after Joseph.
Unlocking the Past Page 20
