Goodbye to Dreams

by Grace Thompson

  Her silence just added to Ada’s resentment.

  Chapter Nine

  WHEN CECILY AND Ada had gone, taking Van home to bed, Bertie went into his study and called Beryl to join him. He set out the map showing the area of the proposed demolition site. Was there anything he could do to avoid putting Dorothy out of her home?

  They discussed the situation for a while, but with the properties condemned and there being no possibility of Dorothy’s, being in the middle of the terrace, being exempted from the order, her house would have to be demolished with the rest.

  ‘I’ll ask around and try to find her a place,’ he decided. ‘There is a place soon to be vacated in Slope Street.’

  ‘Oh, dear. Dorothy wouldn’t like that,’ Beryl said. ‘Too near the docks.’

  ‘It’s clean and it’s cheap. I don’t think she can refuse, do you?’

  ‘It’s a long way from the shop and that might be a good thing. It might stop her pestering Cecily. I’ll make enquiries tomorrow,’ Beryl promised.

  At the beginning of September there was a special entertainments day in the large park. Ada and Cecily were going with Gareth. Van and Edwin had been invited too, although it was likely to end rather late.

  ‘I’ll come away early with them if they’re tired,’ Ada offered. ‘Without Phil there it won’t be as much fun for me. He won’t come, he’s too conscious of his limp, silly man.’

  ‘Can Marged and Annette come too?’ an excited Van asked when she was told of the treat. Eventually it was a party of seven setting off to walk through the town, among the crowds heading for a day of fun.

  There was a gymkhana and a flower show, then as evening approached there was dancing on the green and Edwin danced with Van in a corner set aside for children. Illuminations were added as daylight faded and to end it all, a display of fireworks.

  As Cecily and Gareth danced a quickstep, Cecily saw in the shadows at the edge of the area a figure she recognized: Danny Preston. When she looked again he had gone and she searched the crowd, desperate for another glimpse of him.

  She felt the usual fluttering confusion of her senses even though she was not certain it had been he, but anger with herself swiftly took over and she pressed herself closer to Gareth, looking up at him, smiling in her provocative way.

  ‘Gareth, I want you. I can’t wait for us to be married,’ she whispered against his cheek.

  ‘Hush, girl! Someone will hear you,’ he hissed back, whisking her away in a fishtail, their feet in perfect unison, to where the crowd was thinner.

  ‘What does it matter if they do?’ She laughed at his agitation. ‘Really, Gareth, love, you shouldn’t be so easily embarrassed.’

  ‘You do embarrass me, Cecily, and I won’t pretend otherwise.’

  ‘I want to sleep with you,’ she said, raising her voice so his eyes revealed his alarm. She loved to tease him and Danny’s presence was an added thrill. ‘I want to wake in your arms. There! What would your mam think of that?’

  ‘Stop it, Cecily. You know I can’t cope with your tormenting.’

  ‘Tormenting you, am I? Tormenting you with desire?’ She hugged him close and he stopped and led her off the dancing arena and back to Ada and the children. Standing next to Ada was Danny. Gareth saw him as he approached Ada and he pulled Cecily back into the dancing.

  ‘For a moment there, I thought you were going to give me back to Danny.’ She laughed, her head back, her mouth temptingly close, but it was Danny she was aware of, not her stiff-faced partner.

  ‘There are times when I sympathize with Danny. He called you a tart, didn’t he?’

  ‘I am a tart, Gareth, but only for you.’ She touched her lips against his tight jaw and he pulled away angrily.

  ‘All right. I’ll be chaste and well behaved, but only till we’re married. Then,’ she whispered into his reddening ear, ‘then look out. I’m going to be a demon in our bedroom!’

  ‘I think it’s time we went home.’

  She looked at him as they moved back once more from the dancers, feeling guilty for teasing him, but in his face, strange in the gaudy coloured lights, she saw an expression she hadn’t seen before. Desire was there and she knew her tormenting had aroused him. ‘Tiger!’ she whispered and this time he was unable to hide a smile. He pulled her into a pool of darkness and kissed her more fiercely than he’d ever kissed her before, his face hungry with longing. But for her, the kiss had been as disappointing as everything else in their courtship.

  As they strolled back to the others there was no sign of Danny and she began to wonder if she had imagined his presence. She was melancholy, alone among the crowd. She wished for the magic of the late summer evening to transport her to some place where she could be free, abandoned, without restrictions, where she was not committed to this marriage and where she and—She stopped her wild thoughts as Danny’s face swam into her vision; as if the magic was working, as if she had created his image out of passionate memory and subconscious longing. But Danny’s face was real, and frowning with disapproval.

  He had approached them by pushing his way through the dancers and now held her, his face only inches from hers. ‘Van is tired and wants to go home,’ he said harshly. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, she’s the little six-year-old you and Ada promised to care for!’

  ‘I’m seven!’ Van said promptly, before being dragged away by Ada.

  ‘What business is it of yours?’ Cecily demanded, shaken by his appearance out of her imaginings, shocked at the shattering of her dream. She looked to Gareth for support against Danny’s rudeness but he had bent his head and walked to where Ada waited with the children.

  She felt ridiculously close to tears, wanting to display the stamping rage of a child. She was let down so badly, both by Gareth’s kiss, which failed to arouse the passion she longed to feel, and by his lack of concern when she had been accused of neglecting Van. She pushed Danny aside and ran to where Ada and Van had been joined by Annette, Marged and Owen. The children were playing ring-o-roses, falling down like idiots and having a happy time just being young and free from parental restraints.

  ‘Ready to go home, are you?’ she asked brightly.

  ‘Oh, no, Auntie Cecily,’ they chorused. ‘Please, not yet!’

  Cecily didn’t dance any more, refusing invitations, although the band continued to play. Danny had disappeared and Gareth sat near her on the yellow, straw-like grass, his shoulders a hunched barrier, and did not speak. Cecily watched the youngsters, wishing she was as carefree and not facing a marriage she didn’t want and a future that looked loveless and bleak. ‘Thank you Danny Preston!’ she muttered.

  The season was almost over but Annette and Willie still met on Mondays and had tea with Peter Marshall. He had become a friend and confidant and they discussed with him all the daily happenings as though he were a favourite uncle. Willie told him about the wireless he had made and the programmes he enjoyed.

  ‘Wireless Willie Mam used to call me,’ he chuckled, ‘after the comedian Willie Rouse.’

  Annette explained about the demolition of their house and the planned move to Slope Street, and of Bertie’s kindness in finding the house for them.

  Peter was also informed of their plan to marry one day. He wished them luck and offered to help in any way he could. He always walked with them now, to where they had parked the van, and seemed reluctant for them to go. ‘You’re like a family to me,’ he told them once. ‘The wonderful youngsters I never had. God bless you both.’ He always waited, waving a work-stained hand until the van was out of sight.

  As he set off back to the garage, where he spent most of his days, he sighed deeply. If only he were younger, and Cecily were free. He sighed again. Things were never well timed in his life. He could only to continue to watch her and enjoy vicariously her successes and joys.

  Annette and Willie had a second unexpected meeting that week. Cecily had asked the new boy, David, to take a box of groceries to Dorothy’s home.

  ‘A big o
rder for Miss Dorothy, isn’t it?’ Willie said with a smile, his forthright comments accepted by the sisters, as he was a very important part of their success. ‘Wants a favour, does she? Buying from us instead of Waldo Watkins?’ He knew all about Dorothy’s move to a new house from his discussions with Annette, and since from the sisters themselves. They chuckled at his remarks and told him he was right. She wanted them to ask Bertie if he would compensate her for having to move, but that they would not do.

  ‘I’ll take the order,’ Willie offered. ‘Leave the boy, he’s sorting out boxes in the stable loft. Van is down below helping him so he’ll be busy for a while.’

  When Annette opened the door to him his heart lifted with joy. She was flushed, having just taken some small cakes out of the oven, a few touches of flour on her face.

  ‘Willie!’ She opened her arms and hugged the box of groceries as well as him.

  ‘Annette.’ He bent to kiss her soft, warm cheek. ‘I had the chance to deliver these and thought I’d surprise you.’

  ‘Come in. Sit down. Owen won’t be home for ages yet. He’s gone to play with Marged and Auntie Rhonwen is sure to offer him tea.’

  Willie kissed her again and the warmth of his greeting melted her. She relaxed into his caress and seemed to float on air. To Willie, her skin, hot and moist from the baking, felt like swansdown.

  ‘Annette, love, I ought to go,’ he groaned as she pulled him close and kissed him again and again. This unexpected moment of privacy was a dream come true.

  She sat then and he stood, looking down at her. For the first time since they had become friends, he was at a loss for words. Wanting her was so painful he couldn’t think of anything except her loveliness and his own desire. She slowly removed her apron and although there was no intention of being seductive, the movement added to her allure in a way that was almost wanton.

  ‘Annette, show me your room,’ he murmured huskily.

  ‘No, Willie, I shouldn’t.’ Then she slipped off her cardigan, revealing plump pale arms and he lifted her from the chair. ‘Please,’ he whispered. ‘No one will be back for ages yet. Oh, Annette, love, it seems so right for us.’

  He carried her upstairs and she pointed to the back room overlooking the small back yard. He placed her gently on the bed and stared into her eyes. The answer to his unspoken question was reflected there.

  She was limp like a doll as he slowly removed her clothes, then she turned to him and soon they were both naked. When they came together, there was never a moment in his life so perfect.

  They lay together for a while, smiling at each other, marvelling at the wonder of it, kissing gently, relaxed and content in their love.

  ‘What time is it?’ Annette asked when the aftermath of their loving had subsided. ‘We don’t want Mam to catch us, do we?’

  ‘Plenty of time.’ He reached on the floor for his waistcoat and pulled out Owen Owen’s watch. ‘Not half past one yet. We’ve time to do it again.’ He began stroking her round, rosy cheek and her neck and shoulders, but she became impatient and guided his hands, then her own exploring awakened his body with wonder and exquisite joy.

  Willie knew he would never forget that room, wherever life took them. He would only have to close his eyes to see his beloved Annette lying on the bed with the blue covers and the white sheets framing her beauty. He would see the marble wash-stand with its bowl and jug, the polished floorboards and the small blue rug at the side of the bed. And the long wardrobe mirror in which they stared at their reflections, his long and thin, covered with dark curling hair, Annette’s small and rounded and as feminine and perfect as any dream.

  Dorothy was restless and unable to concentrate on her work. She had been waiting for weeks for a reply to the letter she had sent to London and had become almost obsessed with the need for a response. The wedding of Cecily and Gareth was two and a half months away and time was passing so quickly. If Cecily married, then the birth of a son would add to the difficulties of gaining the grocer’s shop for Owen. With both sisters past their youth it was so unfair that they should marry now and produce an heir to thwart Owen’s right to inherit.

  At lunchtime she planned to go home to see if the second post had brought the letter. Two reps delayed her but finally she could bear it no longer and, complaining of a headache, she went home.

  She stepped inside and saw the freshly made cakes and smiled proudly. Annette was a dream of a daughter. Apart from her unfortunate shyness, she was everything a mother could want. One day, she thought, her daughter would make someone a very good wife, but not for a long time yet. Annette was needed until Owen was old enough to manage without her.

  Seeing the order still in its box, she wondered why it hadn’t been packed away but thought that Annette, with her recent liking for walking, and probably gone to stroll through the park in the centre of the town.

  On the mantelpiece, tucked behind the tea-tin with its picture of Queen Mary and King George, was the post. Eagerly she tore open the one with the London postmark, reading it with her green eyes open wide. Tucking it into her handbag, she prepared to leave. There were a few people who should see this.

  She was pulling the door shut behind her when she heard something, and stopped. She was about to call her daughter’s name but something held her tongue. There were voices. Surely Annette couldn’t be talking to herself? She climbed the stairs softly, expecting to find that Owen had not gone to his Auntie Rhonwen as arranged. Avoiding the creaking stairs by walking at the edge, she looked into Annette’s room first.

  Annette had not dressed. She and Willie stood admiring each other in the long mirror. They heard the wail of dismay and at once covered their important parts in the classical pose beloved by sculptors. Open-mouthed, they stared towards the door.

  ‘Annette! I can’t believe what I’m seeing!’ Dorothy began to wail then she turned on Willie and the wail became a scream of shouting in a babble of angry words. Willie couldn’t understand any of it but from the look on her face and the position in which they still stood, he needed no translation.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said stupidly, ‘we’re getting married.’

  ‘Oh no you’re not! Get out of here and never come back, d’you hear? When I see my sister-in-law you won’t have a place there either! No one will employ you, Willie Morgan. No one! After this no one will trust you near a decent girl.’ She picked up his abandoned clothes and threw them down the stairs. Willie refused to move. He took Annette’s hand and waited until all his clothes had disappeared over the banister.

  ‘We love each other and we’re getting married.’ He spoke calmly, although he was trembling with shock and the embarrassing vulnerability of being without clothes. It was difficult to stand his ground in the face of his nakedness and Dorothy’s fury, but one hand gripping Annette’s hand, the other covering as much as he could with the other, he waited until the first wave of Dorothy’s anger subsided.

  ‘If you aren’t out of here in two seconds, you disgusting animal, I’ll go and call the police. Get out! My son will be home soon and I don’t want him mixed up with this—’ She searched for a suitable word but found none.

  ‘Go now, Willie,’ Annette said quietly. ‘I’ll talk to Mam when she’s over the shock. Best you go now. I’ll be all right.’

  ‘Are you sure? I’d rather stay and talk this through. I don’t want you facing it alone.’

  ‘I’ll be all right. Go, and we’ll make our plans later. Don’t be anxious for me, Willie. Mam won’t hurt me and I can explain better if you aren’t here.’

  ‘There’ll be no explanations from you, young lady!’ Dorothy shouted. ‘All you’ll do is listen! You are never to see this – this – person again. D’you understand? And you, Willie Morgan, get out of my sight before I kill you.’ She picked up the china jug from the dressing table and threatened him with it.

  He didn’t flinch but moved when he saw the fear in Annette’s eyes. ‘Please, Willie, it’s best you go, love.’

&nb
sp; He sidled over to the door trying to avoid Dorothy’s wildly flailing arms as she waved him away as though dealing with a bad-tempered goose. As he reached the comparative safety of the landing, she threw the jug, which smashed against the wall, the pieces chasing him down the stairs. He grabbed his clothes and stood outside the back door and hurriedly dressed, darting glances at the windows overlooking this and other yards, then went back to the shop.

  Dorothy went back to her daughter, trying to calm her racing heart and holding back tears of dismay and shame and disappointment. That this should happen to her and with Annette, whom she had always considered the last person to give trouble of this sort. Shy Annette! It was unbelievable! She stood for a moment on the landing and looked into the room where her daughter was dressing in fresh clothes. A lump of love and sympathy overcame her and she ran in and hugged the now tearful girl.

  ‘Please, Annette, let’s forget this happened. We’ll hush it up. I doubt Willie will talk about it and no one else will know. But promise me you’ll never see him again, never give in to temptation again.’

  ‘Only with Willie, Mam.’ Annette was unrepentant, unaffected by her mother’s rare demonstration of love. ‘Only with Willie. There’ll never be anyone else.’

  ‘You will never see that stable boy again, d’you hear me?’

  ‘You won’t stop me. Short of locking me up and throwing away the key, you’ll never stop me.’

  Dorothy stared at her daughter, alarmed at the change in her. She had never dreamed that the quiet, obedient child could harbour such defiance.

  ‘You’re still a child. I’ll do whatever’s necessary. You and Willie are forbidden to meet. Do you understand?’ She said the last word slowly and with emphasis but as she looked at the coldness in Annette’s eyes she knew she had lost her daughter and a stranger stood before her.