Pontypridd 05 - Such Sweet Sorrow

by Catrin Collier

  Bethan stopped off at the Ronconis’ Taff Street restaurant on the way back, to find Alma and Diana trying to console an irritable and highly sensitive Gina. If anything, the place was busier than usual, and when she looked around she realised that what Will and Eddie referred to as the crache ‘be-hatted brigade’ of middle-aged women were out in force sampling teas, coffees and what passed for cakes under wartime rationing conditions. It was good to know that the Italians who had served the community faithfully for so many years weren’t entirely without friends.

  ‘Tina wouldn’t let me go back to the Tumble after yesterday, she’s running the place herself,’ Gina complained as Bethan joined them.

  ‘What about the High Street café?’

  ‘We haven’t opened it this morning. Laura’s gone down the police station with Mama to see if they can find out where they’ve taken Papa. Bethan, what’s going to happen to us?’ For all her outward confidence and air of sophistication, Gina looked very young and very frightened at that moment.

  ‘I don’t know, Gina.’ Bethan tried to find words that would reassure, but it was difficult without resorting to meaningless platitudes. ‘I wish I did. I’ve asked Andrew’s father to do what he can. As soon as he finds out anything, I’ll let you know. I promise.’

  ‘If you have trouble finding someone to run the High Street café, I can take over for a few days,’ Diana offered.

  ‘You’ve got Wyn’s shop to run,’ Gina protested.

  ‘Wyn and I talked it over this morning. The sweet shop never gets that busy until the early evening cinema rush, and I’ll be able to help him with that if I go straight to the shop after I’ve closed the café. And when Wyn has to go to the hospital for check-ups, Myrtle can take over our shop. Mrs Edwards is always prepared to keep an eye on Wyn’s father for an hour or two.’

  ‘If you’re serious, we may well take you up on that offer.’

  ‘We’re serious,’ Diana assured her.

  ‘I just don’t know how we’d manage without all of you helping us …’ Tears ran down Gina’s cheeks.

  ‘You won’t need help for long.’ Alma put her arm around Gina’s shoulders. ‘The War Office will soon realise it’s made a mistake and release your father and the others. Look at Charlie – they imposed a curfew on him before taking him into the army, and now they’ve promoted him to sergeant … oh no!’ Alma put her hand over her mouth. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. He warned me not to tell anyone.’

  ‘Typical Charlie,’ Diana smiled fondly, remembering his reserve when he had lodged with her mother. ‘Trying to keep everything to himself, as if we wouldn’t see the stripes on his uniform when he comes home on leave.’

  ‘Gina, cook’s gone doolally tap again!’ one of the waitresses shouted up from the basement kitchen.

  ‘Is he threatening to walk out?’

  ‘Not yet, but you’ve a better chance of calming him down if you get to him before he reaches that stage.’

  ‘Tina’s much better at handling him than me. I wish she’d left me in the Tumble café,’ Gina grumbled as she left the table.

  ‘You’ll cope,’ Bethan called after her as she dived down the stairs.

  ‘She’ll cope because she has to, like the rest of us.’ Alma arranged the cups the waitress had brought to their table and picked up the coffee pot.

  ‘And because people like you two are rallying round. Nice relaxing honeymoon you and Wyn are having,’ Bethan said as she handed Diana the milk jug.

  ‘It seems wrong to take a honeymoon with a war on, besides,’ Diana smiled, ‘Wyn and I are happier keeping busy with the shop.’

  ‘What it is to be young, in love, and happy,’ Bethan teased gently, winking at Alma.

  ‘It’s early days, but so far we haven’t thrown anything at each other. The only problem is, Wyn’s too placid to have a really good row with. I’m beginning to find out I can stand anything except being agreed with.’

  ‘Not much danger of that continuing when William and Eddie get home,’ Bethan warned.

  ‘Wyn sounds a bit like Charlie. If he doesn’t like something he retreats into silence instead of complaining. It’s infuriating.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing, Alma,’ Bethan contributed. ‘Andrew and I have both said things in the heat of the moment we wanted to take back later, but couldn’t.’

  ‘You and Andrew always seem so happy,’ Diana protested.

  ‘Not always.’ Seeing a wistful look in Alma’s eyes Bethan decided the conversation was getting too serious. ‘You should have seen his reaction when I starched his underpants the first week we were married.’

  ‘Did you do it deliberately?’ Alma asked as Diana burst out laughing.

  ‘Just got carried away when I did the weekly wash. Apparently he spent so much time scratching and wriggling in work, a rumour went round the hospital that he’d picked up body lice.’

  ‘I think even Charlie would shout if I did that to him.’

  ‘Have you heard from him recently?’

  ‘I had a letter today. He says he’s well. I’d rather see for myself, but there doesn’t appear to be any hope of leave, not soon anyway.’

  ‘I’m sorry, it must be hard.’

  ‘It’s hard on all of us,’ Alma said resignedly.

  ‘Harder on you with a business to run.’

  ‘Not really; the boy I’ve taken on pulls his weight. He’s not as good as William or Eddie of course,’ Alma qualified. ‘Who would be? But he’s willing, and I’m taking on a girl from the workhouse next week in the hope of boosting the brawn and pie production to somewhere near the level it was before Charlie left.’

  ‘I take my hat off to you for trying.’

  ‘It keeps me busy. I’m even thinking of expanding.’

  ‘Expanding!’ Bethan stared at Alma in amazement.

  ‘Into Wyn’s High Street shop,’ Diana explained. ‘We had to close it because of lack of stock, but if Alma can supply us with brawn, pasties and pies, we’ll reopen it.’

  ‘You make me feel idle and inadequate.’

  ‘Idle, with a baby and a house that size to run!’ Alma left her seat and looked across the road at the queue that was forming outside her shop. The ten-minute break was the longest she’d taken in a working day since Charlie had left. ‘Remind Gina I’m only across the road.’

  ‘We will.’

  ‘And if there’s anything I can do …’

  ‘You’ll be the first one we call on,’ Bethan promised.

  Tina was sitting at the counter of the Tumble café, a newspaper spread out in front of her and a thunderous look on her face. She glanced up as Bethan walked through the door.

  ‘Have you seen this?’ Without waiting for Bethan to reply she pushed the copy of the Daily Mirror she’d been reading towards her.

  NOW EVERY ITALIAN COLONY IN BRITAIN AND AMERICA IS A SEETHING CAULDRON OF SMOKING ITALIAN POLITICS AND BLACK FASCISM HOT AS HELL.

  EVEN THE PEACEFUL LAW-ABIDING PROPRIETOR OF A BACK-STREET COFFEE SHOP BOUNCES INTO A FINE PATRIOTIC FRENZY AT THE SOUND OF MUSSOLINI’S NAME.

  WE ARE NICELY HONEYCOMBED WITH LITTLE CELLS OF POTENTIAL BETRAYAL, A STORM IS BREWING IN THE MEDITERRANEAN AND WE IN OUR DRONING, SILLY TOLERANCE ARE HELPING IT TO GATHER FORCE.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve been reading this load of drivel?’ Bethan pushed the paper aside in disgust.

  ‘And not just me by the look of it. Now I know why this place was attacked, our windows smashed, Papa arrested, my mother –’

  ‘Ssh,’ Bethan warned, as she looked around. Fortunately no one was sitting in the front room of the café.

  ‘… and why we need a policeman on our doorstep,’ Tina continued to rant.

  ‘I’ve been to see my father-in-law. I asked him if there was anything he could do to make your family’s situation any easier.’

  ‘Why should he want to help us?’

  ‘Because Laura’s married to one of his junior partners. Have you given any thought as
to how you’re going to manage the cafés now your father’s left and your mother’s about to be sent away?’

  ‘We haven’t really had time to talk about it.’

  ‘You’re going to have to make time.’

  ‘I know. Laura tried warning Mama that she may have to move last night.’

  ‘It’s not just your mother, it’s nearly all the Italian families in Pontypridd. Dr John said the same as Huw Davies: you have to put the cafés into Laura’s name as quickly as possible.’

  ‘What’s the point when there’s no one to run them?’

  ‘I can help.’

  ‘You’ve got a baby.’

  ‘So’s Laura, and looking after two babies is no more work than seeing to one. I can take John any time Laura needs to leave him, and if an extra pair of hands are needed, we’ll leave both babies with Megan and Phyllis.’

  ‘You’d do that for us?’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting Maud’s a Ronconi? That makes us practically sisters, and besides, your family has a lot of friends and customers in Pontypridd. You can’t just close your cafés on them.’

  ‘So it would appear.’ Tina smiled for the first time since Bethan had walked through the door.

  ‘If you’re prepared to allow your mother to go wherever they send her with just the younger children, Dr John said he’d go to the police station and tell them Laura needs you to look after her and the baby for six months. It’s not much, but we thought it might help Laura if you were around, and hopefully William will be home before the six months are up. Then you two can get married, and as the wife of a serving soldier no one will be able to order you to go anywhere you don’t want to. Between Laura, you, me and Diana, if Wyn can spare her, we may be able to keep all three cafés open.’

  ‘You really think so?’

  ‘I think so,’ Bethan reiterated. ‘After all, we can’t have the boys coming home to closed cafés at the end of the war, now can we?’

  By the time the day shift had ended in the pit, Huw’s secret whisper to Tina and Gina had spread from one end of town to the other, and multiplied. The first thing Luke heard after the cage doors opened at the top, was that the Ronconis were being shipped out of Pontypridd within the hour. Refusing to be dissuaded by Evan or Alexander, who wanted him to wait until he’d bathed and changed out of his working clothes, he ran down the hill to the Tumble café. He flung open the door to find Tina, not Gina, standing behind the counter.

  ‘We don’t serve miners in working clothes,’ she snapped tartly, looking no further than the coating of coal dust.

  ‘It’s me.’

  Recognising the Cornish accent, she peered into his face. ‘Well seeing as how it’s you, I suppose I’d better let you in. Just stay there,’ she pointed to the doormat, ‘and don’t touch a thing.’

  ‘Is it true?’

  ‘Is what true?’ she asked irritably.

  ‘That your whole family is leaving Pontypridd for the Midlands immediately?’

  ‘Not in the next five minutes.’ She relented when she saw the anguished expression on his face. ‘But we’ve been warned we’ll have to go soon, probably next week. The families of all enemy aliens are going to be resettled away from coastal areas, and although you might not credit it, for war purposes Pontypridd has been designated a coastal area.’

  ‘Do you know what day you’re going?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Where’s Gina?’

  ‘The restaurant, she should be here any minute.’

  ‘I’m really sorry about your father, Tina. Everyone up at the pit has been saying it’s rotten luck. No one believes he’s a Fascist.’

  ‘Except the government.’

  A tram driver opened the door and tried to edge around Luke without touching him. Pointing to a spot behind the door, Tina said, ‘If you stand in that corner there’s no danger of anyone brushing against you, and I’ll give you a cup of tea while you wait for Gina.’

  He shook his head ‘I’m making a terrible mess. I only wanted to make sure Gina hadn’t already been sent anywhere. Now I know she’s still in Pontypridd, I’ll be back down later to see her.’

  ‘Speak of the devil and she arrives.’ Tina watched Gina walk past the window. ‘But looking the way you do, I doubt she’ll want to see you. Even love isn’t that blind.’

  Gina opened the door, recognised Luke beneath the layer of coal dust, and flung herself into his arms.

  ‘God, you two really have got it bad, and you’re hopeless, Gina. Now you’re going to have to go home and change, which means I’m not going to get a break for hours,’ Tina complained angrily. ‘Go on, off with you, and take that filthy thing with you.’

  Ignoring Tina’s moans and Luke’s state, Gina grabbed his hand and pulled him out through the door.

  ‘I’m sorry about your father,’ he murmured as they began to walk up the hill. ‘Do you know what will happen to him?’

  ‘Mama and Laura came into the restaurant after they’d been to the police station. The sergeant seemed to think they’re going to put all the Italians in an internment camp in the country, somewhere remote like North Wales, or Scotland. The last thing Papa said to us before he was taken away, was to look after each other and the business, but now Mama is going as well …’ She tried and failed to control her tears. Balancing his snap tin under his arm, Luke held her tight, wishing he was clean. ‘I’m sorry, I’m behaving like a fool, and I’m keeping you from your tea.’

  ‘Phyllis will probably put it in the oven, and if she hasn’t, I’ll buy something in the café. You don’t really have to go away with your family, do you?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘I have no choice. They won’t let me stay. Laura tried arguing with the sergeant before she and Mama went to see some of the other families. Most of them aren’t as lucky as us. As Laura’s married to Trevor she will be allowed to remain in Pontypridd, so at least we’ll have one member of the family here to keep an eye on the business for us.’

  ‘But who’s going to run the cafés? Laura can’t possibly manage all three places on her own.’

  ‘We know, and that’s what’s worrying Mama, because if the cafés close we’ll have no money to live on. And Mama’s going to have the added expense of paying rent wherever we’re sent …’

  ‘Laura can stay because she’s married to Trevor, right?’ he broke in urgently.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then if we get married you’ll be allowed to stay and carry on running the café?’

  ‘You been talking to Tina about this?’

  ‘No. What’s the matter, don’t you want to marry me?’

  ‘Of course I want to marry you, but whenever we’ve talked about getting married it was always years from now.’

  ‘If it’s down to a choice between losing you, and marrying you now, there’s no decision to be made. I’d hate to live here if you were somewhere else.’

  ‘But we’re both under twenty-one. Papa isn’t even here to say no, which I know he would. Mama will never give us permission, and aside from my family, what about your father? You said yourself he wouldn’t want a Catholic daughter-in-law.’

  ‘I’ll write to him tonight,’ he interrupted, keeping quiet about the sure and certain knowledge that his father would sooner cast his eldest son out of the family than give his blessing to a union between him and a Catholic. And that was without bringing the question of age into the equation. His father had always advocated marriage at twenty-five for women and thirty for men. Twenty-one would have been difficult, eighteen an impossibility.

  ‘Even if you manage to convince your father, there’s still Mama. We’ll never persuade her to give her permission.’

  ‘Wait for me in the Powells’ while I wash and change, then I’ll go home with you and we’ll find out whether she can be persuaded or not.’

  Evan and Alexander were just sitting down to their meal when Luke walked in with Gina. As Megan had already brought down his evening clothes he dived straight into the was
h-house to bathe and change, leaving Gina with the family.

  ‘You heard anything from your brothers today, Gina?’ Megan asked after offering her a place at the table.

  Gina shook her head. ‘We can’t understand it. The first troops came back from Dunkirk ten days ago.’

  ‘The Guards could have been stationed much further inland.’ Bethan busied herself with Rachel. The last thing she wanted to listen to was any further speculation as to where Andrew or the boys could be, because wondering in her experience inevitably ended in all too vivid imaginings of them lying dead on a forlorn battlefield, or in a ditch at the side of the road being strafed by machine-gun fire.

  ‘You sure you don’t want a plate of stew, Gina?’ Phyllis asked. ‘You’re more than welcome.’ She cut more bread to stretch the pot in case Gina accepted.

  ‘No thank you. I have to go up the house and change so I can get back down the café. Tina will need help with the early evening rush.’

  ‘Don’t forget to tell your mother if there’s anything we can do to help her pack, she only has to ask,’ Megan reminded her.

  ‘Doesn’t he clean up well?’ Bethan joked to Gina as Luke emerged pink and scrubbed from the wash-house.

  He was dressed in his second-hand suit, a collar buttoned on to his best shirt. He was even wearing a red and white striped tie he’d filched from Alexander’s peg on the wash-house wall.

  ‘He’ll do.’ Gina smiled despite her misery at her family’s predicament.

  ‘I’ll dish out your stew, Luke.’ Phyllis picked up the ladle.

  ‘If you don’t mind, Mrs Powell, I’ll skip tea tonight. I’d like to go and see Gina’s mother.’

  ‘I’ll walk up with you.’ After Tina’s comments yesterday, Bethan had guessed what was coming, and thought she might be needed.