‘No, it was one of the cheapest but we settled on it because it was the plainest. Mam was never one for frills and fancy.’
‘Then there’ll probably be some insurance money left.’
‘If there is, Martin and Jack think we should set it aside for the upkeep of Mam’s grave. How soon will we be able to put the headstone on her plot, Mr Griffiths?’
‘Four to six months is about usual, Katie. It will take that long for the ground to settle.’
‘I miss her so much and every time I talk or think about her I can’t stop crying. I feel so stupid ...’
‘Don’t.’ John handed her a clean handkerchief. ‘And don’t try to keep the tears in. It will only make you feel worse. There’s no shame in crying. My parents were killed when I was eleven and I was still breaking down ten years after we buried them.’
‘Killed – that must have been horrible.’
‘We lived in Oxford Street. Our house caught fire one night when we were in bed. I was in the back bedroom and a neighbour rescued me by climbing on to the kitchen roof. But the fire was too intense for him to reach my parents. We could hear them, but we couldn’t reach them. Then the ceiling collapsed on top of us. If it hadn’t been for the neighbour dragging me out I would have died. As it is’ – he paused for a few seconds – ‘I was left as you see me now.’
‘The scars on your face, your leg and arm ...’
‘Didn’t you know I’d been crippled in a fire?’
‘No, Mr Griffiths.’
‘I assumed everyone in the street knew.’
‘If they do, they never talk about it.’
‘Which goes to show Carlton Terrace is not the hive of gossip I took it to be.’
‘Mam always used to say some things shouldn’t be talked about. Like people’s disabilities and failings.’
‘Your mother sounds like a very kind woman, Katie. I wish I’d taken the trouble to get to know her better.’
‘Dad wouldn’t have liked that. He didn’t – doesn’t like us talking to anyone outside of the family.’
‘Didn’t, Katie. Hasn’t Roy told you that he has had a restraining order put on your father to prevent him from even walking into Carlton Terrace?’
‘Yes,’ she answered in a small voice.
‘But you’re still afraid of him.’
‘I’ll always be afraid of him, Mr Griffiths. He ... he ... no matter what the law says, I think he killed my mother and Mrs Evans.’
‘A lot of people would agree with you on that.’
‘Marty says that he and Jack can protect me but they can’t watch over me twenty-four hours a day, any more than they could over Mam.’
‘But unlike your mother you’re never alone, Katie. Think about it. You live with Lily, and even when Roy works the night shift your brothers and Brian are downstairs. And when you’re in work you have a whole warehouse full of people around you.’
‘I know. I’m just being silly.’ She didn’t sound reassured and as he glanced at her he could see fear lurking behind the outwardly composed facade.
‘Come on, time to take you home. Can you eat any more of those fish and chips?’
‘No, thank you, Mr Griffiths. You bought far too much.’
‘I didn’t, Katie, you eat far too little.’
As he took the parcel from her she began to cry again. He held out his arms and she clung to him.
‘I’ve never met anyone like you before, Mr Griffiths. You’re good and kind ...’
‘No more than most, Katie.’
‘Yes, you are,’ she said fiercely. Lifting her tearstained face to his, she kissed him hard and inexpertly on the mouth.
‘Katie, you’re overwrought, you don’t know what you’re doing.’ Shocked, he held her back at arm’s length.
‘Yes, I do. Lily always told me that I would meet a man I would want to kiss one day. I never believed her but ...’
‘She meant a boy, Katie, not a married man with two children older than you.’
‘I’m sorry, I’ve embarrassed you ...’
‘No, you haven’t, Katie, Not at all.’ He turned the ignition and reversed the car, swinging it in a wide arc until it faced the main road.
‘I’m sorry ...’
‘And stop apologising.’ He sounded harsher than he’d intended.
‘Can I keep my job?’
‘Of course. Let’s forget it ever happened, shall we?’ But even as he smiled across at her he was making a mental resolution never to put himself into a situation where he would be alone with little Katie Clay again. She might look like a child but the kiss she had just given him had stirred emotions he’d almost forgotten he possessed.
‘Lily, would you butter the bread, please? And, Katie, if you’d slice the fruit and Madeira cake, but not too thinly,’ Mrs Lannon warned, mindful of the economies Annie Clay had been forced to practise all her married life and had undoubtedly instilled in her daughter. She paused by the kitchen door to reassure herself that the girls were setting about their tasks competently before bustling into the dining room to check the progress of the buffet. The mourners were due back from Oxwich cemetery in the next half-hour and she intended to have food on the table and tea brewed before they walked through the door.
‘Who decided funerals should be men only?’ Katie asked, mutinously slicing a block of Madeira cake into half-inch wedges.
‘I have no idea.’ Lily was even angrier than Katie because it was her aunt’s funeral they were missing. She’d pleaded with her uncle to allow her and Katie to attend both funerals and when he’d categorically refused, she’d begged that at least Katie be allowed to attend her mother’s and she Norah’s. The ‘quiet word’ she’d envisaged had developed into the closest to a quarrel they’d ever had, but he’d remained obdurate, insisting she and Katie remain at home ‘with the ladies’ on both occasions.
‘Jack said it was because women faint at funerals. But I wouldn’t have fainted, and I had just as much right to say goodbye to Mam yesterday as Marty and him, instead of sitting here making sandwiches for a load of people who didn’t even know my mother, but could go to her funeral just because they’re men.’
‘Mrs Jordan sent us in here to fill the kettles and set them on the stove to boil in readiness. But I think the “grown-ups” want to talk about things we children are too young to understand,’ Judy sniped as she and Helen joined them.
‘I’d rather be in here than sit with that lot. Well, I would,’ Katie snapped, in response to a look from Judy. ‘It’s my mother and Lily’s aunt who have died and everyone is treating us as if we’re babies. Have you noticed the sudden silence when either of us walks into a room? And I’ve had more tearful hugs in the last week from people who couldn’t be bothered to say hello to me when Mam was alive than I’ve had since I was born. And here we are, Lily buttering mountains of bread and me slicing cake as if we’re preparing for a party, not mourning my mother’s and Auntie Norah’s passing. Damn it, every time one of the neighbours looks at us, I can almost hear them say it.’
‘What?’ Judy asked, taken aback by Katie’s outburst and the first swear word she’d heard her say.
‘Poor orphans.’
‘You’re not orphans, you still have ...’ Helen faltered awkwardly. ‘Your brothers and Lily’s Uncle Roy,’ she finished lamely.
‘Brothers can’t replace a mother.’ Katie cut down savagely on the cake.
‘Want some help, Lily?’ Judy pulled a chair up to the table.
‘I suppose so.’ Lily opened the drawer in the kitchen table and handed Judy a knife. Picking up yet another piece of bread, she suddenly dropped the knife she was using. ‘Katie’s right, this is nothing to do with her mam or my Auntie Norah. Who cares if the men have enough to eat? As far as I’m concerned they can starve – except Uncle Roy and Katie’s brothers. And your father, Helen,’ she added, ashamed of herself for leaving out Mr Griffiths. He’d called every day since her aunt had died, checking arrangements had been made and, wh
en they hadn’t, taking it upon himself to complete them.
‘This last week has all been about other people,’ Katie agreed. ‘What they think should be eaten after the service, what hymns they think are suitable to be played in the church. Marty tried telling the vicar that Mam’s favourite hymn was “All Things Bright and Beautiful” but the vicar insisted it was unsuitable for a funeral and pencilled in “ The Lord is my Shepherd”, although both Marty and Jack told him Mam hated it. The flowers were just the same ...’
‘You and your brothers did get to choose your own flowers, didn’t you, Katie?’ Judy broke in. She had overheard Helen’s mother muttering ‘stupid extravagant waste’ after Mr Griffiths had telephoned the florist on Katie’s and her brothers’ behalf.
‘Marty and I knew Mam liked roses better than any other flower but ...’ Katie fought back the tears she’d had little control over since her mother’s death. ‘Some of the neighbours thought white roses a terrible waste of money. If it hadn’t been for Mr Griffiths insisting that I knew my own mother best, I think Mam would have had a wreath of dandelions on her coffin.’
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault, Helen.’
‘But it is my mother’s. She thinks she always knows best.’
‘She means well.’ Pushing the butter away, Lily sat back in her chair. ‘And us moaning all the time doesn’t help. Katie and I are just touchy.’
‘You’ve every right to be.’ Judy shaved the last piece of bread from the crust on the table.
‘Are you going to move downstairs with your brothers now, Katie?’ Helen shifted a stack of buttered bread on to a plate and started cutting the slices into neat triangles.
‘Uncle Roy thinks it would be better if Katie carried on living here for the time being. He says we can talk it over again when Brian moves out.’
‘Brian is moving out?’
In spite of the pain that had gnawed at her ever since Roy had told her Norah was dead, Lily managed a small smile at the look of horror on Judy’s face. ‘Not as far as I know.’
‘Marty and Jack only let him live with them on the understanding that he’d have to leave when my mother ...’ Katie didn’t cry but a shudder ran through her body. Lily wrapped her arm round her shoulders. The door opened and Martin and Jack walked in. Lily immediately left her chair so Martin could take her place at his sister’s side.
‘Judy, we’re waiting for the tea,’ Joy called impatiently from the dining room.
‘Helen and I are sorting it, Mam,’ Judy answered.
‘Lily, the bread and butter?’ Esme reminded, sticking her head round the kitchen door.
‘Judy is bringing it out. I have to talk to Uncle Roy, Mrs Griffiths.’
‘Katie ...’
‘Isn’t feeling well, Mrs Griffiths. We’re taking her downstairs.’ Martin and Jack escorted their sister through the door and headed for the basement stairs.
‘Well!’ Esme looked after their retreating figures. ‘I thought those two would appreciate being kept busy.’
‘It’s all right, Mrs Griffiths.’ Judy handed her a full plate of bread and butter and picked up a second from the table. ‘You’ve still got Helen and me to boss around.’
‘It went well, Lily. The hymns were beautiful and the service moving. I think Norah would have approved if she’d been there.’
‘She wouldn’t have been allowed to go,’ Lily pointed out ungraciously, still smarting at her uncle’s refusal to allow her to attend the funeral.
‘I take it you’ve had a difficult time here.’ Roy guided Lily towards the only quiet room on the ground floor, the parlour.
‘No, everyone’s trying to be kind but ...’
‘You don’t have to say any more, love.’
The parlour looked empty and bereft now the second coffin had been removed. Seeing a white carnation on the floor of the bay, Lily stooped and picked it up. ‘I can’t believe I won’t see Auntie Norah again – ever.’
‘Neither can I, love.’
‘The food’s ready, Roy. Shall I get you and Lily a plateful?’ Esme hovered at the open door in a black sack dress of moiré silk more suited to a cocktail party than a funeral. Her only concession to the occasion was a wisp of apron concocted from hand-made lace and fine lawn.
Lily had always been a little afraid of and intimidated by Joe’s mother. Now she felt simply irritated. ‘No thank you, Mrs Griffiths.’
Esme looked expectantly at Roy.
‘No thank you, Esme, I’ll be out shortly.’
‘Shall I ask Joy to pour your tea and bring it in?’
‘Not for a minute.’ Roy was having trouble keeping his equanimity. Since the moment the doctor had pronounced Norah dead he felt he had been surrounded by well-meaning, interfering women, hell-bent on taking over his life.
‘I’ll tell everyone you’d like to be left alone then, shall I?’ Esme closed the door on them.
‘I think she’s miffed,’ Lily whispered as Esme tugged the door until the lock gave a final definitive click.
‘I’ll pacify her later. You eaten?’ Roy asked.
‘No. I’m not hungry. I’ll eat after ...’
‘Everyone’s left,’ Roy finished for her. ‘I want our life to get back to normal too, Lily, but I’m afraid there isn’t going to be a normal for us, not now Norah’s gone.’ He gave her a brief hug. ‘You want to go in there with me?’
‘Not really.’
‘We’ll need this room as well as the dining room, but not before the furniture’s been shifted back.’ He pulled an easy chair away from the wall and dragged it on to the rug, positioning it exactly over the dents the castors had made in the thick pile.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Jordan and Mrs Hunt wanted to see to it earlier, but I wouldn’t let them.’
‘Then how about you giving me a hand to do it now? Afterwards, you can go down to the garden and sit on Norah’s bench while I make small talk and thank everyone for coming.’
‘Wouldn’t that be rather cowardly of me?’
‘There isn’t anyone here you won’t be seeing again. I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well. If they don’t understand that you need to be alone, they’re not worth bothering with. Now take the other end of that table. Careful now, it might be a bit heavy.’
Chapter Eighteen
‘Katie, I’ve brought some food for you and your brothers.’ Helen tapped the back of the basement door with the heel of her shoe to announce her arrival as she edged a heavily laden tray round the curve at the bottom of the stairs.
‘I’ll give you a hand,’ Jack shouted. Running out of his bedroom at the end of the passage, he took the tray from Helen. Forcing her back, he kissed her behind the cover of the door.
‘Want to sit with us for a bit?’ Katie invited, as Helen followed him into the kitchen.
‘Only if I wouldn’t be in the way.’
‘That has to be a first, tactful Helen.’ Jack set the tray on the table.
‘Jack, apologise to Helen,’ Martin prompted.
‘It’s all right, I have tended to put my foot in it lately.’
‘Is Lily upstairs?’ Martin took a sandwich and opened it.
‘She’s sitting in the garden. I think if her uncle hadn’t suggested she go out there for some peace and quiet she would have hit someone. Probably my or Judy’s mother. The way they’re carrying on up there with Mrs Jordan and Mrs Lannon, anyone would think they’re catering for the Queen.’
‘You only brought cheese and cucumber?’ Jack asked, examining the sandwiches.
‘And ham salad, salmon and lettuce and cream cheese and spring onions. I’ll go back up for cake if you want some. There wasn’t room for it on the tray.’
‘Great, Helen, thanks, I’m starving.’
‘Aren’t you always,’ she responded, without thinking what she was saying.
Martin looked from her to Jack, as his brother lifted four plates from the dresser and piled one high with sandwiches for himself. ‘This is goo
d of you, Helen, thank you.’
‘Any time.’ She smiled at Martin but the smile died on her lips. She had never seen him look so exhausted – or so peculiarly at her. Could he suspect that she and Jack ... ‘Point me in the direction of the teapot and I’ll make tea.’ Avoiding Martin’s gaze, she looked around the room.
‘It’s all right, I’ll do it.’ Jack took his plate with him as he went to the stove.
‘Brian and Judy upstairs?’ Martin asked, still watching her.
‘Seeing as how the “caterers” had to have someone to order around, they kindly volunteered.’
‘Remind me to give Brian a gold star when he comes down.’ Jack spooned tea into the pot.
‘Do you think Lily would appreciate a cup of tea and something to eat?’
‘I’m sure she would, Martin,’ Helen encouraged, wishing him anywhere but in the same room as Jack and her.
‘Give me a couple of minutes and you can take the tea out with you.’
‘I’ll do that.’ Finally turning away from Helen, Martin looked at his sister. ‘Katie, help me out here. What sandwiches would Lily choose?’
‘Tell me to go away if you don’t want company, Lily.’ Joe stood in front of the bench Roy had set facing his flowerbed. He remembered Mrs Evans sitting on it sewing through almost every fine summer afternoon of his childhood, and he didn’t want to intrude if Lily was remembering.
‘Please, sit down. I’m trying to escape all those people upstairs. I would have gone to the basement with Jack, Martin and Katie but I think they should be left alone for a while.’
He sat beside her and took her hand in his.
‘Uncle Roy said Auntie Norah’s funeral went well.’
‘It was quiet, dignified, moving, and from what little I knew of her I think she would have approved of the hymns and sermon. Which is more than I can say for the carrying on here, if the sniping that’s going on between some of the women upstairs is indicative of what’s been happening.’
‘Katie and I really wanted to go to the funerals.’
‘I see no reason why you shouldn’t have. This Welsh tradition of men at the graveside and women in the house is barbaric.’
Swansea Girls Page 30
