Swansea Girls

by Catrin Collier

  ‘Esme ...’

  ‘I’ll see if Mrs Jones has actually remembered to prepare the vegetables for the evening meal for once.’ She almost ran into the kitchen, leaving John bewildered, confused and – suspicious.

  He’d never asked Esme about Joe’s father because he’d always assumed he’d been one of her ‘set’. A boy too young to marry. For the first time he wondered if Joe’s father had abandoned her because he already had a wife. Peter and Amelia Butler had been his mother-in-law’s closest neighbours and Esme had babysat for them. Was Joe the result of the old cliché, the young virile husband with a wife recovering from childbirth and an attractive babysitter?

  Like most of the businessmen in the town, Peter Butler had been a member of the Chamber of Commerce, but unlike the others, he’d been consistently polite and pleasant, always asking after Esme and Joe. Had he asked out of guilt at abandoning them? Did Joe resemble him? He tried to picture Peter but could only recall unremarkable features, brown hair and Esme’s uncharacteristic grief when she’d heard of his early death in a boating accident.

  He would have to broach the subject with Esme again when she wasn’t so distraught and Helen and Joe were out. If only she’d said something. Now Helen was working with Peter’s son he knew he should push it, but he had never managed to persuade Esme to talk to him when she didn’t want to and he had a feeling he wouldn’t succeed now.

  At the end of the working day Richard Thomas poured his customary whisky, left his desk and stood in front of the window. Sipping slowly, he watched the shop and office workers trudge up the hill from the town centre. He had almost forgotten Esme Griffiths – Harris – as she was, until John Griffiths had asked in a Chamber of Commerce lunch if anyone knew of an office junior vacancy that might suit his daughter. To his own amazement he had buttonholed John at the bar afterwards and offered the girl a job. Even now he couldn’t say exactly what had prompted him to do it. Curiosity to see Esme’s daughter? A desire still to be seen as a benefactor to his old friend’s family? As executor of Esme’s father’s will he’d had cause – and later excuse – to visit Esme’s mother almost every day. Esme had been a schoolgirl, a virgin and a very pretty girl. He might even have been tempted to forget the twenty-five-year disparity in their ages if he hadn’t been married.

  He put the thought from his mind, just as he’d done over twenty years ago. He had been married then and was still married. Daisy was exactly the kind of wife that suited him and his needs, domesticated, dutiful, obedient and decorative, a competent hostess with none of the new-fangled ideas of female emancipation that set his teeth on edge. And she had agreed before their marriage – albeit reluctantly – when he had informed her he didn’t want children.

  When Esme became pregnant he arranged a private abortion, expensive, discreet. No one would have been any the wiser if she had gone along with it. Instead, she’d avoided him and created a scandal by marrying seventeen-year-old John Griffiths after a whirlwind courtship. At the time he’d felt almost any other option would have been better for her. If she’d felt so strongly about having the child, she could have gone to a Salvation Army home and had it adopted. As it was, he’d felt duty bound to keep a discreet eye on the boy after the first time he’d seen him in his grandmother’s house.

  Joseph had been a solemn three-year-old with dark eyes and hair and an intelligent look he was convinced the child had inherited from him. A son any father would be proud of. Shortly afterwards he began to filter more money into the trust fund Esme’s aunt had set up for Joseph than the old woman had seen in her lifetime.

  He had continued to monitor Joseph’s career from a distance. He knew he had a part in a radio play being broadcast that night, a practically unheard-of honour for a temporary student researcher. If only he’d realised when he was younger how proud a man could be of his child’s achievements, but he and Daisy had lived the life he’d chosen – unencumbered, sophisticated, with holidays they would never have been able to afford if they’d had to pay school fees...

  A knock at the door interrupted his reverie.

  ‘Come.’ He looked at Philip in surprise. ‘I assumed you’d left for the day.’

  ‘You do know that girl you just took on is the one involved in the incident with Laurence Murton Davies on Saturday night.’

  ‘Are you absolutely sure?’ Richard was adept at concealing shock.

  ‘I didn’t see her because I was at the hospital but I recognised the name. I rang the station and they confirmed the address.’

  ‘You should have said ...’

  ‘What?’ Philip questioned acidly. ‘You’d already given her the job.’

  ‘You told me you’d settled the Murton Davies incident.’

  ‘Not the gossip. That girl ...’

  ‘Looks and sounds right for this office. But mention it to Isabel and tell her to keep a close eye. The first sign of trouble and she’s out through the door. Thank you for bringing the matter to my attention. You will go over the Roberts’ case files tonight?’

  ‘I have them in my briefcase.’ Philip closed the door as he left the room.

  Richard recalled what Philip had told him about the incident on Saturday night. It wasn’t difficult for him to imagine Helen naked, even given the amount of padding in women’s underclothes. She appeared to have much the same figure as her mother had had when he’d known her. He wondered if she had the same temperament. Esme had been fifteen when he’d seduced her – not that it had been difficult – and afterwards ... he smiled fondly at the memory. Who would have thought that an outwardly ice-cool blond exterior could have concealed such a sensual nature?

  John Griffiths glanced around the bar of the White Rose. Seeing Roy Williams sitting in a corner, he limped over to his table. ‘Can I get you another, Roy?’

  ‘I was thinking of going home. It’s been a long changeover shift but seeing as how you’re already holding my glass I’ll let you twist my arm.’

  John went to the bar and ordered two pints of best bitter.

  ‘I’d like to talk to you about Saturday night.’ John looked around to make sure no one could overhear as he returned and set two full glasses on Roy’s table.

  ‘Don’t ever quote me but that was a mess and not very well handled by the force. I’m sorry.’

  ‘I’m only sorry Helen was foolish enough to put herself in a position where a boy like Murton Davies could take advantage of her.’

  ‘We’ve all been young and foolish in our time,’ Roy commented philosophically. ‘You do know it’s Jack Clay you should be thanking. There’s no saying what might have happened if he hadn’t stuck his oar in.’

  ‘I know.’ John looked down into his glass. ‘Is Murton Davies really going to get off scot-free?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. For all our sakes I hope he’s learned his lesson and there’s no next time for some other innocent girl.’

  ‘Bloody crache!’ John swore with uncharacteristic vehemence.

  ‘If we had charged him and it had gone to court, Helen would have had to go into the witness box. I’ve seen similar cases and the girl never comes out unscathed. People like the Murton Davieses can afford to buy the best legal advice. By the time their barrister had finished with Helen, she – and the jury – would have felt as though she was the one on trial.’

  ‘She shouldn’t have worn that dress,’ John concurred, ‘but Murton Davies shouldn’t have ripped it off her either. Tell me, what would you have done if it had been your Lily?’

  ‘Killed the bastard.’

  Roy spoke so flatly that John couldn’t be sure whether he was serious. ‘I wish Helen would calm down. She’s putting years on me.’

  ‘And every boy who saw her in that dress on Saturday night.’

  ‘Esme won’t allow her out of the house and the girls haven’t been round. I suppose they’ve been warned not to talk to her.’

  ‘Norah and Joy Hunt will change their minds in time. A couple of weeks and the whole thing will be forgotte
n.’

  ‘Not by me – or Helen. She’s going to pay for that dress if it takes her ten years. As for Norah and Joy, I can’t say I blame them. If one of Helen’s friends had behaved the way Helen did last Saturday I would have forbidden Helen to see her again.’ John sipped the froth off his pint. ‘I trust this job of hers will make her think a bit more about others and less about clothes, make-up and having a good time.’

  ‘Helen’s got a job?’

  ‘In Thomas and Butler’s as an office junior. Heaven only knows why Richard Thomas didn’t cancel the interview after last Saturday. He must have heard what happened. According to my secretary, half of Swansea is talking about young Murton Davies and what he did to Helen. And on top of Saturday there’s the question of Helen’s qualifications. They leave a lot to be desired. She failed more than half her examinations first time round.’

  ‘So why do you think he gave her the job?’

  ‘I know you won’t let this get any further, Roy, but I asked around the Chamber of Commerce. Richard Thomas offered. I assume because he was a close friend of Esme’s father and Esme’s godfather. He looks after my affairs and a trust fund Esme’s aunt set up for Joe. But for all that, the offer surprised me. Richard never struck me as the sort of man to do anyone a favour unless there was something in it for him.’

  ‘I see.’ Tight-lipped, Roy picked up his pint.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Come on, Roy, we’ve known one another for years, something’s wrong. What is it?’

  ‘Office junior, you say, Thomas and Butler.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with that, is there? Or do you know something about Thomas and Butler I don’t?’ he asked warily, recalling Esme’s reaction to the news.

  ‘Annie’s girl Katie had an interview for that job this afternoon. It didn’t go well. The senior partner as good as told her there and then that she wouldn’t get it because she lacked experience.’

  ‘I didn’t know little Katie had been to tech.’

  ‘She hasn’t. Annie went out scrubbing pubs by day and sewing for Norah at night to scrape up the money to send her to night school. The kid did well, came top of her class in every subject, distinctions all the way. Annie even bought some good-quality cloth, so Norah could make the girl a new costume for the interview. That’s why I’m sitting here. All Norah and Lily did through tea was commiserate with Katie. I don’t think they ate more than a mouthful between the three of them. It was enough to put me off my food. So deciding I was better off out of the house for an hour or two, I came down here. It’s impossible to listen to the radio through a chorus of female voices.’

  ‘You say Katie got top marks in her year?’

  ‘In all her subjects, or so I understand from Norah.’

  ‘Shorthand and typing?’

  ‘The lot, Norah said, whatever “the lot” is.’

  ‘Don’t suppose she’d consider taking a job in the warehouse? My secretary’s getting married at the end of the month. I was going to advertise next week, but if Katie can start on Monday my girl can train her up. If she likes the work and can cope with it, I’ll keep her on.’

  ‘You know the situation there ...’

  ‘I know Ernie’s put Annie in hospital again, the boys have moved into your basement and Katie’s staying with Norah and Lily. You’re a braver man than me. I’ve often thought about helping Annie and the kids, but I’ve never taken it further than thought. I remember Ernie from school. I was three years below him and, fortunately, never attracted his attention but I do remember him flattening anyone who got in his way.’

  ‘Yet you’re prepared to offer Katie a job.’

  ‘That’s different, that’s just work.’

  ‘Ernie could just as easily make a scene in your warehouse as on my doorstep.’

  ‘Not with the number of men I’ve got working for me.’

  ‘You do know that with Ernie the way he is and Martin and Jack only earning apprentice’s and labouring wages, Annie relies on Katie’s money.’

  ‘I’ll see Katie all right. You and Norah know Annie better than me, Roy. Can’t you persuade her that she and the girl would be better off without Ernie? He must drink double his wages every week and the extra has to come from them.’

  ‘If Annie’s thinking of leaving Ernie, she’s keeping it close to her chest. I saw her yesterday and nothing will shift her from the story that she tripped and hit her face on the sink. She’ll go back to Ernie, she always does, and knowing Katie, she’ll not let her mother go back alone. But if the girl gives up the café to work for you, there’s no way they’ll take her on again if you decide not to offer her a job at the end of her training. Her present wages may be grim but they’re better than no wages at all.’

  ‘If Katie’s not up to the work I won’t keep her on in the office, but I can always use an extra pair of hands in the warehouse. I’ll find her a place there. What do you think?’

  ‘I think you should ask her. Another?’ Roy picked up their glasses.

  ‘I shouldn’t, but our house is as miserable as yours by the sound of it. Helen has hardly said a word the last couple of days. Joe’s working in Alexandra Road and Esme’s in the theatre, auditioning for a new production.’

  ‘She’s keen.’

  John realised Roy’s casual remark was a criticism of the amount of time Esme spent away from home but he couldn’t think of a word to say in her defence.

  ‘Drink up.’ Roy emptied his own glass. ‘And while I think of it, has Joe told you he’s taking Lily out tomorrow? Full marks to the boy. He came round to ask Norah’s permission. She agreed, but warned him that if he upsets our girl he’ll have to answer to me.’

  John gave a wry smile. ‘I think he already knows that, Roy, and speaking for myself I couldn’t be more pleased. Nice, sensible girl, Lily.’ He could have added ‘unlike Esme’ but then he had never been publicly disloyal to his wife and had no intention of starting yet.

  ‘That wasn’t too horrendous, was it?’ Robin asked Joe after the producer had signalled ‘off air’.

  ‘No,’ Joe agreed tersely, folding his script as he turned away. Since Robin had tried to absolve himself of all responsibility for Larry on Saturday night, he could barely bring himself to look at, let alone talk to, his friend. He also wanted to sound nonchalant and casual for the benefit of the producer and the rest of the cast, as though his five doorman’s lines hadn’t cost him several anxious hours and a sleepless night.

  ‘Good work, people.’ The producer opened the door to the studio.

  ‘Right, I’m for home.’ The leading actor reached for his jacket.

  ‘No drinks?’ Robin looked to the rest of the cast.

  ‘You’re welcome to come back to my place. We could have an impromptu pool party,’ he added by way of incentive. ‘How about it, Geraldine?’

  ‘I have to go through tomorrow’s script.’ Geraldine was blonde, attractive and six years older than Joe and Robin. An experienced professional who had delivered her thirty lines with considerable confidence and aplomb.

  ‘Then how about a lift home?’ Robin pushed.

  ‘You don’t know where I live.’

  ‘I’ll take you anywhere.’

  ‘London?’ She picked up her handbag from a table at the back of the studio.

  ‘You want to go to the station?’

  ‘You don’t give up, do you, boy?’ To Robin’s chagrin she tickled him under the chin.

  ‘Don’t say I didn’t offer.’ He turned to the door.

  ‘How about as far as Sketty?’

  He beamed triumphantly. ‘As it’s an MG you’ll have to sit on Joe’s lap. Or better still, he can drive and you can sit on mine.’

  ‘I have to go home,’ Joe demurred, furious with Robin for behaving as though Saturday night had never happened.

  ‘Oh, come on, I want to talk to you about Larry. You do know no one’s talking to him?’

  ‘No.’

  Geraldin
e looked coolly from Robin to Joe. ‘Do I get my lap?’ she interrupted.

  ‘Of course.’ Robin took her arm as they left the studio. ‘My house has a pool. It’s a beautiful evening, we could swim, have a few drinks. What do you say?’

  ‘I’ll be too busy going through tomorrow’s script to babysit.’

  ‘Babysit?’

  ‘Little boy your age, that is what you wanted, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’re beginning to sound boring.’

  ‘I can always take the bus.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. Here.’ Robin tossed Joe his car keys as they reached the front door.

  ‘I’m not coming with you.’

  ‘I need to talk to you, Joe. Please?’

  It was almost impossible to fight Robin when he was in one of his conciliatory moods and Joe was curious what – if any – punishment was being meted out to Larry, but there were practicalities to consider. ‘I won’t be able to get home afterwards.’

  ‘I’ll drive you. Come on, Joe. Be a sport.’

  Unable to come up with another reason why he shouldn’t go with Robin, Joe pushed the keys into his pocket and followed him out on to Alexandra Road.

  Helen checked her watch as she brushed a layer of dust from the sofa in the front room of the basement. The place was a mess and there wasn’t time to give it more than a cursory dusting before the magic hour of ten. She’d hidden in her room until her mother had ordered her to lay the table for the evening meal. Not daring to broach the subject of her job again, she’d cleared the dishes after her mother had left for the theatre, cleaned the kitchen and hovered around upstairs until her father went to the pub, unfortunately not early enough for her to have a really good go at the basement.

  Walking to the back door, she shook out her duster while listening hard for the roar of Jack’s motorbike’s engine. ‘Please don’t let him stop in a pub,’ she whispered. ‘Please ... please ... please ...’

  Someone must have answered her prayers for a few seconds later the unmistakable noise of a motorbike resounded from the lane that ran at the back of the terrace. She checked her watch again. Half past nine. He must be eager to see her to leave a full half-hour before practice normally ended. Racing down the path, she reached the bottom of the garden as a dark shape emerged from the back of the garage next door.