‘Who was he, Ma?’
‘You mean the man with me in town? No one important, just someone I met in a pub. He was walking me back to the bus stop, that’s all. It’s nice to make a few friends after all the years I’ve had to put up with only your Dad for company.’
Pete stared at his mother in disbelief. She was the stranger! He hadn’t been told, but he guessed she had found out about his dad and that Bethan in the fish and chip shop. He wondered if she had also worked out that Griff was the father of Arthur Toogood, Bethan’s illegitimate son.
* * *
Bethan Toogood and Sheila Davies quickly became friends. Sheila’s boldness appealed to the shy young woman who had rarely travelled further than Llan Gwyn. Now, under Sheila’s tutelage, Bethan began to discover the delights of cafe’s, public houses and dance-halls. She didn’t have very much money: her mother, Milly Toogood, demanded a large sum each week for taking care of Arthur.
Now, with Sheila reminding her that life was short and meant for fun, she gradually increased the amount she kept for herself and soon the ubiquitous white overall was a thing of the past. Only when she was serving in the shop was it seen. At other times Bethan showed her trim figure in angora jumpers and slim fitting skirts that were shorter than the approved length by several inches. A pair of high-heeled shoes and a saucy hat made her feel different and, over a period of only a few weeks, act differently, too.
She still needed Sheila’s company to support her new image, and when Freddy was home and Sheila not available she sank back into her previous existence and hid herself away in her solitary room behind the shop.
* * *
The day that Freddy came home for his pre-Christmas visit he didn’t tell anyone he was coming. He had parcels for his mother and Margaret, and one for Sheila and he intended to surprise them all by arriving without warning. He was late getting into Swansea. His train reached the town at ten o’clock at night and he managed to get a bus to Llan Gwyn, knowing he was likely to have to walk the last lap of his journey.
He was quite cheerful as he walked through the town where late-night drinkers were gradually leaving the public houses and the crowds on the pavements were thinning as buses took them back to their homes. He was half-running, hoping to get to the bus stop in time for the last bus to Hen Carw Parc when he saw them, Sheila and Bethan wandering towards the bus stop as if there was plenty of time. From the way they were laughing, he suspected they were drunk.
‘Sheila? Where are you going at this time of night?’
‘Freddy, darling!’ She hugged him, her welcome leaving him in no doubt as to her genuine delight at the unexpected encounter. ‘Home, that’s where we’re going, if we haven’t missed the bus.’ She smiled at him, widened her eyes in a way that made his heart flip and then hugged him again, while Bethan stepped back wondering whether to go or stay. ‘Freddy Prichard, where have you sprung from? I’ve missed you. Are you coming home with me?’
‘I ought to go to Mam’s but—’
‘But you won’t,’ she whispered, touching her tongue against his lips and then smiling provocatively. A chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ came from a group of boys passing by and she smiled at them, too, her head tilted, her lips parted. Then she turned to Bethan. ‘Bethan and I were going for a taxi, now we can all go together. Oh, Freddy, it’s wonderful to have you back.’ She pressed herself against his rough uniform and for the moment she almost meant it.
Freddy had forgotten Sheila’s companion and the fact that he had suspected them of being drunk. They had just been fooling around, laughing because they might have missed the bus. She was five years older than himself but she was so young and helpless that she made him feel mature beyond his years. He asked nothing from life other than looking after her and protecting her from all life’s dangers. He loved her for her helplessness as well as her sexual attractiveness.
He smiled at Bethan, the street lamp shining on his glasses and concealing the curious expression in his eyes. Bethan Toogood and Sheila? It wasn’t a combination he could ever have imagined.
‘Come on then, let’s find ourselves a taxi.’ He shepherded his charges to the taxi rank, felt in his pocket for some money and thought that once again he would arrive home and almost immediately have to ask his mother for a loan that neither expected to see repaid.
Freddy’s leave was short and having spent the first night of it with Sheila he felt tempted to return to his camp without letting his mother know he had been home. Smiling at Sheila he said, ‘But that’s impossible. Can you imagine doing anything here in this village without half the population knowing within fifteen minutes and the rest being told before twenty-four hours have passed? No, I’ll have to go down and see them. I want to anyway. Mam’s letters have been a bit edgy lately. I think she’s worried about something.’
‘We’ll go after lunch and be back for a few hours, alone, after tea.’ The way she said ‘alone’ made Freddy’s heart somersault in his chest. He had wondered during the long hours he spent thinking about her, whether his mind had flipped with his heart-beat and he had only dreamt of being in her bed. It was something he had wanted for so long that he was half-afraid it had all been in his imagination. Her welcome on the night of his return had convinced him that, at last, Sheila loved him as much as he loved her. Once she was clear of the unfortunate marriage to Maurice, life would really begin for him. Sheila as his wife, and work in some garden, that was all he wanted.
* * *
Amy knew Freddy was home. Coming into the shop to start work she had been greeted by Milly Toogood.
‘Your Freddy’s on leave then?’
Recovering swiftly, she had said airily ‘yes’, pretending she had known. Then she spent the rest of that Saturday morning wondering if she would see him or whether he was going to spend the whole of his leave with that Sheila Davies. Mavis Powell would mind the shop while she went up to the council houses, and for a while she was tempted, but she decided it best to wait and see if he came. Once she began a confrontation, even hinted at resentment towards Sheila, it could easily accelerate, and the last thing she wanted was to have a less than easy relationship with her son. Not now, when there were so many problems to face.
At lunchtime he came into the shop with Sheila on his arm. He carried his kit-bag across his shoulder and when she saw them crossing the road she felt the usual stab of pain. He was so like Harry Beynon. He was a strongly built young man, looking more than his age, with a maturity about him in the serious expression in the blue eyes behind the rimless glasses, glasses like Harry had worn. And his eyes, like Harry’s, they could suddenly show mirth or wickedness and, she thought with a momentary sadness, compassion and deep love.
‘Freddy, love. I heard you were home. Milly Toogood took pleasure in telling me.’
‘Sorry I didn’t let you know, Mam, I thought I’d surprise you.’ He kissed her and she gave him a hug, surprised at how he had filled out. Rather plump he had been as a child, the softness had hardened into muscle.
‘Come and have some food,’ she invited.
But Sheila smiled and said, ‘It’s all right, Mrs Prichard, we’ve eaten. Freddy was too hungry to wait, you know what his appetite is like.’ She glanced at Freddy, her eyes widening, and Amy felt a wave of embarrassment, guessing what appetite the girl was hinting at, hoping she was wrong. Freddy was too young, Sheila was married. Yet the looks that were passing between them told her clearly the unacceptable story.
When Amy put the key in her front door after the shop had closed, voices were coming from the living room. She heard Margaret and Oliver, and then the rather strident voice of her sister, Prue.
She groaned. So much for a pleasant talk with her son. First Sheila in tow and now a visit from Prue!
Even before she called a greeting she began the automatic process of thinking out what they could eat. Margaret and Oliver would be sure to be hungry and Prue might want a sandwich. As for herself, all she could expect to do was drink a cup of
tea, feed the rest, and get back to the shop. What a disappointment. Freddy on leave, a dozen things to discuss with him and it all dissolving into a few hurried moments surrounded by others.
Prue stood up and pulled on her coat the moment she saw them walk in. Wondering what had caused the sudden departure she glanced at her sister, about to ask if she wouldn’t stay for a moment longer, then saw the venomous glance Prue was giving Freddy. Freddy, too, looked ill at ease. He must be a constant reminder to Prue of her husband’s infidelity. I can hardly blame her for feeling angry with Freddy, Amy sighed, even though he could hardly be blamed for being born. She helped her sister out and declined to issue an invitation for her to stay.
* * *
On Tuesday mornings Nelly cleaned for Mrs Williams who lived at the end of the village near The Drovers. Today she was late finishing her work. She had intended to be home in time to have some food ready for George, but with the extra Christmas cleaning it would have to be fish and chips.
When she went into the gleaming, glass-and-chrome-fitted shop it was empty. The lunchtime rush hadn’t yet begun. Hoping Bethan wouldn’t notice, she hauled the dogs in behind her and pushed them to sit against the counter.
‘Fish an’ chips twice an’ two meat pies fer the dogs,’ she instructed Bethan. ‘An’ what’s this about you an’ that Sheila Davies out on the town then? Gettin’ lively all of a sudden, ain’t yer?’
‘Fish and chips twice, and as the pies are a bit small I’ll let you have three for the price of two,’ Bethan said, reddening under her newly-applied makeup.
Nelly wondered how her words could have caused the young woman to feel uncomfortable. Surely her friendship with the flighty Sheila wasn’t a secret? Then she turned and saw the real reason for Bethan’s discomfort. Hilda Evans had walked-in behind her.
‘’Ello, Hilda,’ Nelly smiled. ‘Perishin’ cold, ain’t it?’
‘My new coat keeps me nice and warm, thanks, Nelly.’ Hilda smiled with her new teeth and stroked the fur collar of her grey coat. ‘My Griff has bought me lots of new clothes to keep me warm and comfortable. Kind of him, isn’t it?’
Nelly handed over the money, grabbed the newspaper-wrapped package and, nodding silently to both women, hurried out. She remembered the money Hilda had found and guessed that Griff wasn’t aware of his generosity to his wife. What would happen when he found out was something she didn’t care to think about. She sorted out the tangled leads, pushed and pulled the dogs into order and crossed the road.
Inside the shop Hilda stared at Bethan until Bethan was forced to ask, ‘What would you like, Hilda?’
‘Nothing from you.’
‘Oh, about your job is it? I’ll be glad if you’re ready to come back. It’s difficult for me to see to it all. I’ll have to find someone else mind, if you’re going to be on the sick for much longer.’
‘Stick your job, and as for managing you’ll have Griff when he’s out of prison and you’re welcome to him.’
‘Griff? I’d be glad of his help, of course, shifting the sacks and heavy jobs like that, but it’s the other things I need help with, the work you did.’ Bluffing her way through the conversation was making Bethan’s chest painfully tight. Hilda knew about them. Why play cat and mouse with her like this? It wasn’t fair. Best have a good row and see it finished. But she daren’t say the first word.
‘I’ve changed the locks on the doors and he isn’t coming back, you know,’ Hilda went on. ‘Got plenty of room for him in your bed though, haven’t you?’
‘No! I – I don’t know what you mean.’ The chance to bring it all out was there but she hadn’t the nerve.
‘You’ll soon find out what I mean. He’ll be back and when he is, it’s to your address he’ll be heading.’
‘No, I can’t take a lodger. I’ve only a small bed-sit and…’ but the door opened and Johnny Cartwright came in. Hilda greeted him and walked out.
‘What’s happened to her, won the pools has she?’ Johnny asked. ‘Talk about glamorous. It’s like she’s been visited by a fairy godmother!’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Bethan replied.
‘Got rid of that Griff and enjoying her freedom by all accounts.’
‘Lucky her!’ Bethan retorted, Sheila’s friendship having increased her courage. ‘Who’d want a man with a prison record?’
* * *
Johnny didn’t go straight home, but stopped at the cottage on the main road next door to Phil-the-post where his mother lived.
‘Mam,’ he called, pushing open the front door, ‘what about a cup of tea to go with these chips?’
‘Fay not home, Johnny?’ Netta asked as she went to fill the kettle. ‘On a Saturday? I thought shops didn’t want to bother with reps on Saturdays?’
‘She was doing some written work this morning then going into town to do some shopping. Things for the baby, Mam. Isn’t it great? It won’t be much longer. Duw annwyl, I can’t wait for this baby to arrive.’
Netta chuckled. It was four months away and Johnny talking about it as if it were only hours.
To Johnny’s delight Fay arrived an hour later with lots of shopping to show his mother. He sat happily while the two women drooled over the small garments and the items of equipment that were needed in readiness for the new baby. The only jarring point to the visit was when his mother asked why there were so many of each garment.
‘Not expecting twins, are you, Fay?’ Netta teased.
‘I’ll need plenty if I’m to expect a child-minder to keep her looking nice, Mam,’ Fay replied. ‘I can’t expect her to be washing and ironing all day, now can I?’
Netta nodded agreement. She couldn’t understand the need for Fay to continue with her job when she had a child to care for but she didn’t show by the slightest change of expression that she was in any way disapproving. She had always known that Fay was different from herself and her family, and that included Johnny, she thought with momentary regret. Fay had need of things Netta hardly thought about, considering them unnecessary or so far removed from possibility as to be not worth dreaming about.
She looked about her at her living room, cluttered with the memorabilia of her family: ornaments that were of no monetary value but precious because they were presents from the boys; curtains that had begun life in a bedroom and been brought into service in the living room during the war when rationing made it impossible to replace things. Too many chairs, for visitors who came less and less frequently.
She remembered with a wry chuckle how Fay had once asked her why she had flowered curtains, a check-patterned wallpaper, and a different coloured flower design on the linoleum that covered the floor and another on the threadbare rug in front of the fire, and why there were three odd armchairs. She had looked about her as if seeing the hotch-potch room for the first time and replied with wonder on her face, ‘I don’t know, Fay. It just happened.’
Fay’s house was sparse and neat, with electric fires instead of coal, few ornaments, those she had been given were tucked away in drawers. Everything that was needed was there and of the best quality, but there was no surplus, and in Netta’s opinion, little comfort. Although Netta visited often she was always glad to return to her inconvenient little house and its over-filled room with the over-stuffed chairs and the fire that burned a bright welcome.
She went to a cupboard and took out a tissue-wrapped parcel. She handed it to Fay who unwrapped yet more baby clothes.
‘Thank you, Mam. They’re beautiful. You made them?’
‘Yes, love in every stitch. You’re right, Fay, you can’t have too many, not if the child-minder is to give her time to the baby and not seeing to laundry. And as to that, I’ll help with the washing, just bring it down, Johnny, it will be a pleasure to help. Plenty of help you’ll need, with the baby and work as well, but you’ll manage wonderfully, I don’t doubt it. There’s a lucky baby she’ll be. Best of everything, lots of love, with you for parents.’
Johnny frowned at his mother. How could he p
ersuade Fay that her duty was to stay home with their child if Mam encouraged her to continue with her job!
* * *
Amy did find time to discuss her future with Freddy and Margaret after all. She invited Sheila and Freddy for Sunday lunch and when they had eaten, sat on the couch with her children beside her and asked, ‘Freddy, Margaret, what would you think if I told you I was going to marry Victor?’
‘Would it mean David and Daniel would be my brothers? I’d have three of them?’ Margaret asked. ‘I think that would be nice, if only David would begin to talk to me without a pout on his lips like one of Uncle Billie’s big milk jugs!’
‘Freddy?’ Amy coaxed.
‘I don’t think it concerns Freddy, Mrs Prichard,’ Sheila said, idly playing with the switch of the radio. ‘Out in the world on his own he is, and with decisions of his own to make.’
‘This will still be his home,’ Amy said firmly, looking at her son.
‘I wouldn’t like you to move away from here,’ Freddy said at last. ‘The house where Victor lives is very dark and there’s no garden. I’ve great plans for this one. You wait ’til you see what I’ve got planned for this competition next year.’
Amy looked at Freddy seeing the serious look in the blue eyes and guessing he was uncomfortable talking about it. The garden was a neat way of changing the subject.
‘You like Victor, don’t you?’
‘He’s all right. He did a good job of clearing the old shrubs from the back of the garden. I’ll be able to get that planted next time I have leave.’
‘He’s good at playing games and he always asks me to play my new piano pieces,’ Margaret said. ‘We wouldn’t have to move again, though, would we, Mam?’ Her beautiful brown eyes grew wide with anxiety.
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