Willie sat in the back kitchen, where the sink and boiler half filled the small room. He was at the table, sacking spread around his feet to catch the scrolls of wood as he planed the top of a stool. He worked rhythmically and without pause, except to occasionally hold it aloft to make sure the shape was perfect.
The planning finished, he began rubbing with a sheet of sandpaper before placing the finished piece with the others, ready to be varnished.
‘Time you were in bed, Annette love,’ he said as the big wall-clock struck ten. ‘You mustn’t tire yourself.’
‘Yes, I must go.’ Dorothy stood up, packed away her knitting and kissed her daughter.
‘I’ll walk with you as far as the bus stop, Mother-in-law.’ Willie reached for his coat and cap.
‘No need.’ Dorothy did not feel at ease with Willie, although she had to admit he cared for Annette admirably. ‘I’ll only be a minute walking to the church corner.’
It was dry and bitterly cold, with a wind rustling the leaves along the gutters as she hurried to the bus stop outside the walls of the ancient churchyard. A public house was almost joined to the church and she watched in disgust as two men tumbled, laughing, out of its doorway, helped on their way by the toe of the landlord’s boot. Such a wicked waste of money, she thought with a curl of her lip. They probably had children at home, trying to sleep with empty bellies. She didn’t recognize them or she’d have told their wives to be more firm.
One of the drunken men stumbled and lurched towards her and she quickly darted into the shadow of the wall. She waited, holding her breath as he approached a nearby tree and peed noisily close to her, his eyes not seeing her stiffened shape as she turned her head in embarrassment. He stood for a while as if unsure which direction led to home, and all the time Dorothy crouched, hardly daring to breathe. People on the street dwindled to none before he lurched away.
As she was about to leave her hiding place another shadow appeared. She stayed hidden and waited. She wished she had accepted Willie’s offer to walk with her. You never knew who you’d meet in this area. To her surprise she recognized Phil Spencer walking towards her.
He climbed the stone wall, hardly visible in the meagre light from a lamp outside the public house and slithered like an eel over the top, to drop with hardly a sound on the other side. She found a jutting stone and risked a look over the wall to see him leaving the churchyard by the gate on the opposite side and disappearing into the lane beyond.
She was thankful when the bus came but she didn’t go straight home. She alighted at the police station to report what she had seen.
‘Supposed to be a cripple he is, but he can’t fool me,’ she told the sergeant. ‘I saw no sign of a limp. He’s that burglar the papers are full of for sure.’
Ada was startled by the late-night knock at the door. She peered down at the policemen standing outside and hurriedly dressed before going down. She looked anxious as she explained, ‘My mother-in-law is in bed but my husband is still in his workshop if you want to talk to him.’
‘If you please, Mrs Spencer. Sorry about the lateness of the call.’
With a curious look at the solemn-faced young men in their tall, silver-trimmed helmets, she went down to the workshop, knocking before opening the door and calling, ‘Phil, love, it’s the police. They want to talk to you.’
‘Me? Whatever for? Not wanting tickets at this time of night, are they?’ He limped through to the living room and leaned heavily on the table to ease his aching leg. Ada noticed he was sweating slightly and thought she would persuade him to visit the doctor again. His leg seemed worse lately. He must be straining it trying to walk without a limp.
‘Phil, sit down and rest that leg. You’ve overdone the exercises again, haven’t you?’
The police asked him to explain his movements that evening and he told them that, apart from going out to post a letter, he’d been working on Christmas orders for dances and raffles.
‘One of my busiest times, it is, see,’ he said, and went on, refusing to be interrupted, to explain how important it was for him to work late. ‘I daren’t refuse work. January and February are pretty lean and I need all I can get now. Printing is spasmodic, see – weddings in May, June and July, of course – but real printing is less easy to come by and—’ He went on until the constables, having partaken of tea and cakes, thankfully left, their heads reeling with the lecture on the problems of the small printer.
‘What was all that about?’ Ada asked.
‘I don’t know but it’s nothing for us to worry about. They wondered if I had seen anything suspicious. At least I think that’s what they said.’ He winked and went on, ‘I didn’t give them a chance to say much, did I?’ He hugged her. ‘Come on, Mrs Spencer, let’s go to bed.’
Outside the policemen agreed there was little doubt about the man being a cripple. ‘The woman made a mistake.’
‘A relation, wasn’t she? The informant? Terrible rows there are in some families. I bet that’s what it was here. Still, we’ll report it and let others decide whether he needs watching or not.’
‘That cup of tea was welcome, though.’ They continued their round, having written up the relevant details in their notebooks and, out of sight, finished off the cakes Ada had insisted they took with them, with relish.
Owen’s shop was filled to overflowing with the extra needs of the Christmas season. With only ten days to go, the sacks of nuts and crates of oranges and boxes of apples were being constantly replenished. Figs, dates and tangerines added to the displays. Willie took the sack truck and walked to the wholesalers except when the load was large, then he took the van.
The extra scents of fruit and spices filled the air with the subtle reminders of the approaching season. Van had decorated the shop with greenery gathered by herself and Edwin in the fields outside the town. Holly and mistletoe hung in corners, garlands draped the walls. Bolder colour was added with balloons blown up by Van and Edwin, with an air of contagious fun.
The stables with their cellar and loft were now extra storage and sacks of potatoes and corn and other dried goods were kept there. Willie set dozens of mousetraps to prevent the stock being spoilt and used everything in strict rotation to ensure they sold only the best. Any fruit and vegetables past their prime were still given to Jack Simmons to sell to those unable to afford better.
It was a busy time and for Willie, an anxious one. Their baby was due any day and although he knew Gladys Davies wouldn’t leave Annette’s side, he didn’t like leaving her all day.
‘The baby will probably come in the middle of the night,’ Cecily said. ‘They usually do. Everyone I ask says the same. You’re busy all day then you settle to sleep and they announce their imminent arrival.’
‘What time was Van born?’ he asked.
‘Midday! But she was bound to be awkward. Don’t worry, you’ll be there when Annette needs you.’
‘I’ll go home at midday, though, just in case.’
Every day he’d dash home when the shop was reasonably quiet and the sisters didn’t need anything urgently, and spend a while with Annette. Now her time was near Willie thought her more beautiful than ever. Her face was rounded, her arms deliciously plump and her eyes glowed with happiness.
‘I can’t believe my luck,’ he murmured as he settled her into a chair to rest when he went back to the shop. ‘Luckiest man in the whole of Wales I am, for sure.’
It did happen at night. Willie heard the slightest of sighs from her and was awake in a moment, reaching out and holding her.
‘What is it, love? The baby is it? Oh, damn me, I’ll go and knock up Gladys this minute.’
‘No, Willie, not yet. Stay with me and hold me. I don’t want you to go from me yet.’
He settled back on the pillow but his eyes were wide open, staring up at the ceiling as though gripped in terror. Every time she moved or made the slightest sound he started up, only to be calmed by Annette.
‘Not yet, love,’ she whispere
d. ‘Try to rest. I’ll tell you when it’s time to fetch Gladys and phone the doctor. I don’t want any false alarms and have them calling me a sissy. And it costs money to get the doctor out.’
‘This is daft beyond,’ he said with a groan. ‘Me lying here being comforted by you! I’m supposed to be the strong one.’
‘You are, Willie. Strong and caring and a giant among men.’
It was a little after two when a gasp and a shout made him insist on fetching help.
‘All right, go, you. Nothing will happen in the few minutes you’ll take to call Gladys.’
‘I’m calling the doctor too,’ he said, jumping into his trousers. ‘No arguments, right?’
Gladys came at once and waited with Annette while Willie ran up the green lane, jumped the railings, raced through the park and down to the doctor’s house. He didn’t wait for a lift back but ran home the way he had come. He saw the doctor’s car approaching as he reached the bottom of the green lane.
He raised his hand to wave to the doctor and at that moment saw a figure break out of the shadows at the bottom of the road. He gasped with horror as the doctor’s car hit the indistinct figure and threw it like a pile of rags, into the air. It seemed to hover for a moment suspended by an invisible hand, before dropping onto the car and sliding down to the ground.
He felt no sympathy for the injured man; only fury that he had delayed the doctor from reaching his beloved wife. He ran to the spot where the doctor was kneeling beside the fallen man and said, ‘Go, man. My wife needs you.’ Willie was in a panic of fear at the thought of Annette needing help and his voice was high and loud. ‘I’ll see to him. I’ll knock someone up and send him for the police. Just go, will you?’ He began tugging at the doctor’s coat.
‘I can’t leave the scene of an accident,’ the doctor said calmly.
‘What accident? There never was no accident.’ The injured man stood up, stiff but apparently without serious injury. Willie recognized the voice of Phil Spencer.
‘Phil? What the hell are you doing out at this time? My wife needs this doctor so tell him you’re all right and let him go, will you?’
‘No need to call the police. I’m only bruised. I couldn’t sleep, that’s all. Let me get away from your fussing!’
‘He does appear to have avoided any serious damage,’ the doctor said.
‘Then bugger off and leave me go home,’ Phil whined.
‘Come on, Doctor! Get to my wife. She’s having a baby, now this minute!’
Up and down the road doors were opening and a crowd soon gathered to see what had happened. Phil moved with a pronounced limp to lean on the wall of a house, pushing the doctor away as he tried to continue his examination.
Someone had gone for the policeman who lived nearby and someone else brought out a chair for Phil to sit on. Many shouted about the stupidity of using cars at night and one old man insisted they should run on rails like trains do, ‘not run as wild as they like on roads, bumping into people,’ he insisted loudly, creating laughter in the group of curious bystanders.
‘If you’ll give me a hand, and a shoulder to lean on, I’ll get myself home,’ Phil insisted. He was clutching his coat tightly around him with one hand. The other he waved hopefully at Willie.
‘Hurt your chest, have you?’ Willie asked, pointing to the doctor then at his home where the door was open and the house well lit. ‘I’ll see to him, you go to my wife.’
‘Your chest?’ the doctor asked.
‘Not hurt at all, I keep telling you. I want to go home!’
Willie began to walk with him, while the crowd shouted encouragement and the doctor tried in vain to make him stay, following them with the chair and pleading for Phil to be sensible.
‘You be sensible and get to my wife!’ Willie shouted back. He ushered the man away like a mad dog. He glared at Phil, who was limping along beside him, still holding his chest. ‘You pick your moments, don’t you! Why choose tonight of all nights to go wandering in front of cars?’
They were in sight of the church when a car entered the road.
‘Hang about,’ someone called, ‘it’s the police.’
Willie hurried Phil unceremoniously back across the road. ‘Damn me, I want to get back to Annette. Having a baby she is.’ He pulled Phil roughly and turned him to face the policeman now running towards them. ‘Take him, somebody. Let me and the doctor see to my wife!’
‘Just one minute, sir, I’ll be as quick as I can, seeing your predicament. Now, what damage did you sustain from the vehicle?’ he asked Phil, who was struggling to get away and was being held by one shoulder by Willie, who handed him to the policeman like a parcel.
‘Fine, I am. Just fine.’
‘Looks like he’s hurt his chest,’ someone said. The crowd had regrouped around them and was growing by the minute as more neighbours were woken by the voices.
‘Best you take a look, Doctor.’ The constable ignored Phil’s continuing pleas that he was ‘just fine’ and his protests turned to a wail of dismay as, after another push from the impatient Willie, several silver items fell from his coat and landed on the ground with a musical clatter.
‘It looks to me, sir, that we might have found our burglar.’
The shock passed through Willie almost without giving a thought to the repercussions. He could think only of Annette and her need of him. He was letting her down. Grabbing the doctor’s arm, he pointed again to his house. ‘Look, Constable, that’s where we’ll be, all right? Come on, Doc, we’ve got to go. My wife is more important that all this.’ Dragging the bemused doctor and still shouting explanations to the policeman, Willie ran across the road and sighed with relief when the doctor finally climbed the stairs.
He was shaking as he handed Gladys a kettle of hot water and the clothes Annette had put ready, then he waited, walking around the room like a caged animal, still not giving a thought to Ada and what she would be dealing with. His ears were tuned to hear the slightest sound from above and at last came the kitten-like wail followed by the doctor saying, ‘Well done, Mrs Morgan. Congratulations on the birth of a fine healthy son.’
Standing at the foot of the stairs, one foot on the second step ready to bound up the moment he was allowed, he waited again. Gladys’s head appeared and she smiled. ‘It’s a boy, Willie. A beautiful boy!’
Willie contained his patience a little longer, until the doctor called him. ‘Come on up. She won’t settle to sleep until you’ve seen her and this wonderful son of yours.’
Willie was up the stairs two at a time and into the bedroom before he’d finished speaking. He was trembling as he went across to the bed. Annette was sitting smiling at him, her face red from her exertions but with hair neatly combed and wearing a pretty nightdress specially bought for after the birth. ‘Was it very bad, love?’
‘It’s over now, and look, Willie, look at our son.’
He kissed her gently before looking at the bundled little person lying beside her. Tears filled his eyes for the first time since he’d left school. The wrinkled old/new face was not that of a stranger, but of a long-awaited loved one. ‘He’s perfect,’ he sobbed, ‘and so are you, my lovely, clever Annette.’
He stayed with Annette, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Gladys stayed until morning. ‘Only a few hours,’ she told him, ‘just in case you have to go again for the doctor.’ Like Willie, she was too exhilarated by the drama and the wonder of it all to sleep.
Willie went outside before dawn, looking up at the stars, breathing the sweet night air, reliving the wonder of that first sight of his son. It was a while before he noticed there were still lights on at the Spencers’ house. He thought he’d go and tell Ada the wonderful news and only then did the memory of Phil’s disgrace come back to him and the realization that Ada was in real trouble. He checked for the twentieth time that Annette was sleeping and Gladys was not, and went out.
Ada answered his first hesitant knock. She had been crying, her face was swollen and her hai
r untidy. She was fully dressed and held a coat over her arm. ‘Oh, it’s you, Willie,’ she spoke dully as if his calling so early was a normal event. ‘I thought it was the police. They’ve taken him and—’ She broke down and Willie guided her into the living room where Mrs Spencer sat, rocking in a chair and staring into a blazing fire. She didn’t look up when Willie spoke to her.
‘Sorry I am for what happened. I hope you don’t think it was me who caused it.’
‘No. Phil insisted you weren’t to blame. It was misfortune that you called the doctor at that time. How is Annette?’ she force herself to ask.
‘Lovely thanks. We have a son and we’re going to call him Victor, after your brother, Annette’s father.’
‘I’m glad.’ She began to cry again. ‘It’s just a pity that the doctor came at that moment and hit Phil.’ She poured a cup of tea and handed it to him. ‘I knew nothing of all this. You do believe that?’ Willie nodded. ‘If I had, I’d have stopped it before he was caught, and made him give it all back. We didn’t need it!’
‘I’m sure you would.’ He sipped the tea and asked, ‘Does Cecily know yet?’ He had been referring to them by their Christian names in private for a long time and tonight, fatherhood had made him brave. ‘I’ll go over and tell her, shall I? Now Annette’s safe and sleeping, Gladys won’t mind staying a while longer. Grinning down at the baby, she is, as if he’s her achievement. She certainly played a part and we’re very grateful.’
‘Glad I am for you and Annette, such wonderful news. No, I don’t think there’s any point waking Cecily. There’s nothing she can do. Let her sleep.’
‘I’ll drive you to work at the usual time, then? Bring you back as soon as you’ve talked to her.’
‘Thanks.’ She smiled then, the swollen face contorting itself into more of a grimace than the kindly expression she hoped. ‘You won’t want to stay long either, will you?’
Goodbye to Dreams Page 24
