‘And then?’
‘It happened by accident really. I came to see you on my half day several times, remember?’
‘I remember very well.’
‘One day Danny was waiting at the corner of the road and he got into the car. We drove to the marsh and sat there in the weak sunshine and watched the marsh birds. It was so good, just sitting and talking and sharing the pleasures of that lovely place.’
‘Then you stopped coming to see me.’
‘We met every week and I’d count the days. I know I’m a fool. He and I could never settle down in harmony. It only takes a suspicion that I’m being over-friendly with another man for him to start on again about my flirting ways and my desire for the attention of men. Then we’ll be shouting at each other and storming off in opposite directions swearing never to speak to each other again. He’ll never change. Most of the time it’s wonderful, then a kind word or a smile from a stranger and the wrong response from me and anger explodes.’
They were sitting in Peter’s shabby office and he suggested she might like to go somewhere more comfortable. He hesitated at first, afraid any distraction would discourage her from confiding to him her concerns. He wanted to be the one she could trust.
They drove to a small beach about four miles away and stayed in the car, watching the sea, dark, pulsing, powerful, being pushed by the incoming tide and a strong wind. Clouds raced across the sky which was darkening by the minute, giving the place a menacing aura.
‘Danny doesn’t object to you coming to see me?’ Peter asked.
‘Of course not. You’re a friend of long standing, like Waldo and Bertie. Even he couldn’t see you as a threat. Thank goodness I have a few good friends who don’t cause rows.’ She was looking out at the approaching storm and missed the frown and hurt expression which made his face as grey as the rest of the afternoon.
‘I look forward very much to your visits,’ he said.
‘Why don’t you come to lunch on Sunday?’ she asked on impulse. ‘Van will love to see you, and Beryl and Bertie will be there. Waldo and Melanie too. Please come.’
‘Thank you. I’d love to.’ Momentarily the frown left his face. ‘Will Danny be there?’
‘No!’
‘But you will go on meeting, and people will talk and that could lead you into trouble you’ll find it hard to take. Being the other woman and facing a divorce court isn’t fun, Cecily.’
She didn’t reply but looked down at her hands fingering the lacy gloves she had worn and which now lay like two exotic insects resting in the contours of her lap.
‘Is it a special occasion, this lunch?’ he asked.
‘Well – yes. It’s my birthday and I’m thirty.’
‘And I’m thirty-seven.’
They were silent for a while, looking across at the pulsating sea where clouds blotted out the horizon, but nearby visibility had improved and they were able to see a pilot boat which engaged their interest, guiding a cargo boat into the docks entrance, bobbing about like a toy.
‘Come on, let’s go back to the beach and get some tea and sticky buns.’ Peter started the car and drove back along the quiet roads to the cafe.
Although rain threatened, the beach was full of late summer visitors. The gentle murmur of their chatter was interrupted occasionally by the tannoy, reporting a child found and wanting his mam, or shouting at boys for misbehaving in the sands and disturbing others.
Red-skinned bathers walked up from the sand to find cool drinks or an ice cream, and some, who during their short stay had become regulars at the green-painted stall, would chat to the girl selling teas as if she were an old friend.
The clatter of dishes told of the success of the day despite the doubtful weather as picnickers returned trays to regain their deposits or order fresh supplies. Peter left her occasionally to help the girl to clear the counter. She watched him with real affection. Such a kindly man.
Wasps were a constant hazard and they saw several children hurried along by anxious parents to the First Aid hut on the parade, to return later, still with mouths pouting in dismay but soothed and comforted. Cecily looked at Peter and they shared a look, telling each other how they felt for the injured child.
The wind had dropped as the storm had raced past and the moist heat drew smells from the wet sand and warm paving. The seas, still rough and now high on the beach, brought the smell of seaweed and Cecily tasted the salt on her lips. At each side of the bay, the tide smashed over the rocky headlands throwing plumes of white spray high in the air. The plumes were a dazzling fluorescent white in contrast to the grey rocks, sea and sky.
Cecily felt close to Peter, as if they were separate from the hubbub going on around them, invisible and unheard. She looked at him with genuine affection and touched his arm as a gesture of it. He patted her hand and held it there.
Behind them were the more mundane sounds of lively humanity, deriving the most from the last of the precious days of summer. The ever-present smell of fish and chips, the delicious smell of hot bread as a baker’s boy delivered fresh supplies on a shallow board balanced on his shoulder. She soaked up the sights and sounds, aware of Peter’s relaxed company and knowing it was a day to remember.
‘I’m hungry,’ she announced and they sat like thousands of summer visitors and ate sandwiches and drank tea, which Peter poured from one of the cafe’s white china pots. The high tide was cooling the air and she was glad of his offer of his jacket.
The roads were filling up when they set off back to the garage to collect her car. It seemed that most of the bathers and picnickers had made the decision to leave at the same time. The car nosed its way through the jaywalking families heading for the trains and buses, and approached the edge of the town at little more than a walking pace.
Hot and tetchy children clung to their fathers’ shoulders. ‘Like limpets with legs,’ Peter said with a laugh. ‘Sticky with ice cream and jam and smelling of the sea. A lovely cargo to carry home on a summer’s evening.’
‘You’re very poetic today, Peter.’ He shook his head deprecatingly.
‘How is your sister-in-law Dorothy these days?’ he asked as they finally picked up speed and drove past a small row of shops where shutters were being put up for the night.
‘She still hints regularly that I won’t marry and have children so I should make out a will in favour of Owen-Owen-named-for-his-grandfather.’
‘After what she did to you on the eve of your wedding?’
‘She says she bitterly regrets that. But I don’t,’ she confessed. ‘I was only marrying Gareth to be safe.’
‘Safe? Safe from whom? Danny?’
‘I don’t know. Just – safe.’
‘Perhaps Gareth isn’t finished with the Owen family yet. I’ve seen him out several times with your other sister-in-law, Rhonwen, and her daughter, Marged.’
‘You have?’
‘I see many people when I’m sitting in my tea stall and I’m so often there few notice me.’
She was ashamed. After a niggle of jealousy. ‘That doesn’t mean anything, going out together sometimes. After all, I’ve been with you for hours.’
‘No, us being together doesn’t mean anything, being together and enjoying each other’s company.’
She looked at him, aware of the strangeness in his voice, but he was staring straight ahead. She couldn’t see the greyness in his heart, only the defiant laughter – like the determination of the revellers earlier, to pretend the sun was still shining – showing stiffly on his face.
On Sunday, at Cecily’s birthday luncheon, Bertie and Peter talked business.
‘Young Edwin will be helping in the business before too long,’ Bertie said proudly.
‘I can already read a balance sheet,’ Edwin said.
‘And damned good he is too. Sharp as a nagging woman’s elbow, our Edwin.’
‘I wish I could do something useful,’ Van sighed.
‘Hark at you,’ Cecily said with a smile. ‘All y
ou want to do after school is skip, play whip and top, or torment the boys next door.’
‘Only because you never give me anything interesting to do!’ Van complained. ‘First I’m a nobody and now I’m useless. What a life to be born to. Nobody’s bothered with me since Gran went away.’
‘Aw. Poor thing you,’ Edwin teased.
‘I’m considering taking on an assistant soon,’ Peter told them. ‘The garage is quite busy and I’ve bought the piece of ground around it so I can take in more cars to sell, leaving the workshop free for repairs.’
They discussed this for a while, then Melanie said, ‘Tell them, Waldo. They’ll know soon anyway.’
‘Good news?’ Cecily asked, then she saw from their faces that was not so.
‘We weren’t going to mention it, this being a party,’ Melanie said, looking at Waldo.
‘We were burgled last night,’ Waldo said. ‘Jewellery, money, silver, enough to ruin our pleasure in the lovely home we have built up over the years.’
‘It was such a shock. Sleeping peacefully in our home, while someone came inside and—’ Melanie was dry-eyed but her voice revealed the distress the thief had caused. Waldo looked angry, his cheeks bright red with the emotion he felt.
‘Oh, Melanie, Waldo, I’m so sorry. When will the police catch this man!’ Ada was shocked and upset.
‘Your staff?’ Cecily suggested. ‘Do you trust them?’
‘Completely. I’d never believe them capable of this. The handyman was there early and he found the door wide open and I was already reaching for my dressing gown when Melanie cried out that her jewellery was gone.’ He sighed. ‘A lot of money too, I discovered later. I foolishly keep some at home for emergencies – nearly one hundred pounds.’
‘What can we do?’ Cecily asked, hugging Melanie. ‘Would you like to stay here for a few days? After such an experience you must both feel too upset to sleep there.’
‘No, we won’t be driven out of our home. It’s the jewellery itself, specially chosen for special events. Its value isn’t measured by the cost of replacing it.’
‘It charted our progress,’ Waldo explained. ‘Each piece was bought to celebrate a new success or stage in our lives.’
On the following day there was more bad news. Waldo was ill. The doctor warned Melanie that it was his heart.
‘He said Waldo must take things quietly for a while,’ Melanie sobbed. ‘And how can I make him do that? Loves that store he does and would die anyway if he couldn’t go there every day. Oh Cecily, I’m so afraid. What will I do if he dies?’
‘Tell him that. Tell him how much you need and love him. You’re more important to him than the store. Just remind him – if he needs reminding. Take him on holiday, persuade him the doctor is right and make him hand over the reins to a manager. And whatever Ada and I can do, you know you only have to ask. We’re so very fond of you both and we’d love the chance to help you for a change.’
When Cecily and Ada took Van to see the invalid, they were relieved to find him well enough to be out of bed and already feeling stronger. He sat and listened with amusement as the four women discussed him as if he were a child, deciding for him what he must do to lighten his workload.
‘I feel like the proverbial fly on the wall, sitting here learning what you think of me. Stubborn, am I? Don’t know when I’m well off, don’t I? Well, let me tell you this, you find me someone to run things the way they should be run and I’ll gladly half – no, quarter – my working day.’
‘What about Owen?’ Ada asked.’ Surely he’s been with you long enough to help?’
‘Confidentially, your Owen is a liability. I’d do better to trust old Zacharia Daniels, who collects other people’s rubbish and sells it to people almost as badly off as he is. At least he shows some business acumen! Owen Owen-named-for-his-grandfather, as Dorothy keeps reminding us, isn’t interested in increasing his responsibilities. Give him something extra to do and he forgets all the rest! We’ve only kept him on because we didn’t want to embarrass you two.’
‘Sack him, Uncle Waldo, and I’ll help,’ Van offered. ‘I can serve, when these two let me!’ she glared at Cecily and Ada. ‘And my teacher says I’m a genius at arithmetic.’
‘As soon as you’re old enough, Van, love.’ Melanie gave her a hug. ‘Until then, I’m afraid we have to put up with your cousin Owen.’
‘A real pain that boy,’ Waldo muttered. ‘Fat and idle. You’re worth ten of him, young Van.’
‘Last to arrive in the morning and first through the door when we close.’ Melanie sighed. ‘Fat he is but he slips through the door when six o’clock chimes before it’s properly open!’
‘What we’d give for a man like your Willie,’ Waldo added.
‘You can’t have Willie! Lost we’d be without him.’ Cecily turned to her sister in mock alarm. ‘Perhaps we’d better increase his wages again before the opposition steals him!’
‘Whatever you’re paying him,’ Waldo said, even though he knew exactly, as he dealt with their accounts, ‘Willie Morgan’s worth double.’
They didn’t stay long for fear of tiring Waldo and besides, Ada wanted to get home to the meal waiting for her. Cecily was anxious to close the shop, which Willie and young David were minding, deliver Van to Beryl and Bertie and go to meet Danny.
Cecily and Van walked with Ada to her bus stop then walked down the hill past the shop and along the road with its view of the docks, to Beryl and Bertie’s house.
‘Edwin’s got a new bike. Can I have one?’ Van asked.
‘No, lovey, I don’t think so. It’s far too dangerous for you to be on the roads.’
‘I could come on my own then. You wouldn’t have to bring me.’
‘I want to come with you or at least see you off with Auntie Ada or Willie. I like to know you’re safe in Auntie Beryl’s care.’
‘I ride Edwin’s bike even though it’s too big for me.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t. There are cars along the road every few minutes and it isn’t safe. You’re too young.’
‘Too young for this, too young for that,’ Van moaned rebelliously. She pointed to the corner of the road where Horse’s wife was standing offering a cap to passers-by in the hope of a few coins. ‘She’s got more freedom than me!’
‘And she begs for enough to buy food for the day and sleeps in a dirty room in a derelict house in a field!’
‘I’d love it. I could do whatever I wanted. Stay up all night, eat jam sandwiches instead of the boring food you make me eat.’
Cecily stopped listening and watched the woman who was usually accompanied by her husband. Strange for them not to be together. The woman wasn’t singing, she just offered the hat to anyone who came near, most of whom stepped aside.
‘Where’s Horse?’ Cecily asked as she approached. ‘You aren’t usually out on your own. She glanced at the hat and saw that the three coins inside were foreign, obviously put there to make a jingle and encourage people to contribute. She searched in her pocket and offered some coins to Van to place in the hat but Van was stepping aside, holding her nose against the smell coming from the woman’s clothes.
‘Ill he is. Pneumonia so the chemist thinks. He needs some mixture to help his cough but I haven’t had a penny given me today. I can’t sing see, not without Horse I can’t.’
Cecily opened her purse and put a shilling in the woman’s hand. ‘Use it for medicine, mind, and come to the back lane at seven and I’ll find you some leftovers for your supper,’ she said as they walked away. She rang Willie and asked him to leave a parcel of food out in the lane for the old lady to collect.
‘What about a bike?’ Van asked when they were near their destination.
‘No. Definitely not until you’re older. Go on in, lovey, Edwin will be waiting for you.’
Cecily didn’t stay. She waited until Gaynor had helped Van out of her coat and scarf, then, after kissing her daughter and having a brief word with Beryl, she hurried to the bus stop. It was
irritating not using the car but they hoped to avoid prying eyes by not being seen together in the well-known vehicle. The bus, taken from a distant stop, seemed a wiser plan.
Danny was waiting at the prearranged place and they sat separately on the bus which took them to a small village. They planned to go for a walk. It was all they ever did. Afraid of being seen together, the quiet village where neither was known was a haven where they could relax and forget Jessie, and the gossip their meeting would engender.
Trees were shedding their leaves, crunchy underfoot, and the wind, though not cold, made Cecily thankful she had worn her woollen coat and her brown felt hat. Danny was in brown too. A trilby worn at a rakish angle, an overcoat too large and with a belt tied without using the buckle, and tied in an untidy knot.
There was always an air of devil-may-care abut Danny. The earring he wore glinted in the light from street lamps which had just had the attention of the lamp-lighter doing his round on a bicycle, his long pole balanced with practised ease as he rode past them onto the next.
She went into his arms as soon as they found a quiet place and felt the warmth of him flooding through her as he held her tight, reassuring her with a kiss that all was well. She was always nervous when they met, dreading the suspicion in his eyes that began many of their evenings together. It might be a chance remark about a customer, or even the way she thanked the conductor as he helped her off the bus. The innocent words would have apparently passed without trouble but the time between parting and meeting again would allow suspicion to incubate and produce that monster of jealousy that so often ruined their time together. Tonight, as she studied his waywardly handsome face, everything was perfect.
The man in the almost deserted bar room obviously wanted to talk. He tried several times to include himself in their conversation but Danny blocked him. Then he came and sat beside them, a small man, dressed in a navy suit with a white muffler around his neck. He was clearly impressed with Cecily’s figure in the soft blue woollen jumper.
‘Haven’t I seen you here before?’ he asked.
Goodbye to Dreams Page 22
