Valley in Bloom

by Valley in Bloom (retail) (epub)

  * * *

  ‘All we need now is for Freddy to come home,’ Amy sighed as she and Nelly began cleaning the storeroom behind the shop. It was Monday and Mavis was serving in the shop. They usually worked on a Sunday morning while the shop was shut, but Nelly had asked to change the day, wanting to spend George’s day off with him.

  ‘I don’t think it would be a bad idea, Amy,’ Nelly replied, using her backside to heave a cask of vinegar into place. ‘P’raps if he saw for ’imself that Sheila an’ Maurice was tryin’ again ’e’d be better able to ferget ’er.’

  ‘I don’t know. The way he feels about her he’d still be her protector, watching out for her in case Maurice didn’t look after her properly. Poor Freddy.’

  When they had finished they went into the shop to find it crowded and Mavis frantically busy serving them all. Nelly sat on a crate of cauliflowers while Amy helped. Evie came in, gave a casual ‘hello’ to her mother and asked for some of the daffodil bulbs that Amy was selling off cheaply.

  ‘They’ll be too late, Evie,’ Nelly told her. ‘My George put ours in months ago.’

  ‘They’ll grow and be established for next year,’ Evie said. ‘Timothy is becoming quite knowledgable about gardening and he says—’

  ‘Ere, while I think of it, Evie, the gypsies are in the lane with their ’orses. D’you want a barrer load of ’orse sh—’

  ‘Mother! Really!’ Evie glared at Nelly and stalked out of the shop.

  ‘’Orse shovellings. What’s the matter with er?’ Nelly asked of the customers at large. ‘I was only goin’ ter say ’orse shovellings!’

  When the shop finally emptied, Nelly announced that she was going for some fish and chips.

  ‘’Ave some fer you an’ Margaret why don’t yer?’ she offered. ‘Save you goin’ all that way ’ome, an’ it’s perishin’ cold out there.’

  While they were all debating about what they would have, a bus stopped on it’s way from Swansea to Llan Gwyn and a khaki clad figure jumped off.

  ‘Freddy!’ Amy said, running to greet him, throwing off her apron as she went.

  ‘Extra ’elpin’ of fish an’ chips then?’ Nelly yelled.

  With the door blind pulled down and the heater full on, the impromptu picnic was a success. Amy supplied tea and they all sat in the small shop and ate their meal out of the paper in which it arrived. The subject of Sheila was carefully avoided. They all made Freddy laugh with descriptions of Hilda’s new life-style, and interested him with explanations of what was being planned for the Best Kept Village Competition.

  It was after Nelly had taken her dogs and gone home to prepare a meal for George and Mavis had returned to the flat above the shop that Freddy asked the question that had been burning in his brain.

  ‘What’s happening with Sheila and Maurice, Mam?’

  ‘Freddy love, I still don’t know.’

  ‘Come on, Mam.’

  ‘All right. So far as I know Sheila is still with her gran and Maurice is living back at home. They see each other, in fact they turned up at Billie’s on Sunday and Maurice and Tad were walking round like two dogs about to spring at each other’s throats. There, that’s all I know.’

  ‘You mean Maurice was still interested in Delma then?’

  ‘He didn’t take kindly to the news that Tad and Delina are engaged. But Sheila and Maurice are still married, Freddy, and surely they’re likely to try and make a go of their marriage now he’s back home?’

  ‘I don’t want her hurt again, Mam.’

  ‘No, love. But I don’t want you involved in a conflict between a man and his wife. If you really care for her – as I’m sure you do,’ she added quickly, ‘you’ll want what’s best for her, and the best would be to make this travesty of a marriage work, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘I think I’ll go into town and meet her after work. Unless Maurice is there. If he is I’ll walk away, right?’

  ‘What ever you think, love. You’re a grown man and able to make your own decisions. Just don’t get involved in any fights on her behalf.’

  ‘I’m not likely to take on Maurice, Mam. He’s a mate, even if he is married to Sheila.’

  Amy watched him go, sturdily built yet young and somehow vulnerable in his uniform. Sheila had been stringing him along for months and now there was a likelihood of a fresh start with Maurice she might be less than pleased to see him. She sighed and opened the door for business. Perhaps she’d find something really nice for their meal tonight, celebrate the fact that at least he would be spending this leave with her and his sister instead of at Sheila’s place.

  * * *

  Freddy and Maurice met in town. They were both in the animal foods and garden shop. Maurice was studying the selection of annual seeds and Freddy was looking at the shrubs offered for sale.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re going to do some gardening, Maurice,’ Freddy said.

  ‘Freddy, boy! Where did you spring from? When are we going to do some fishing. Years since we did, or so it seems.’

  ‘Won’t it be dull catching tiddlers after shark fishing in Aussie land?’ Freddy joked. He had been nervous of meeting his friend but Maurice showed no sign of knowing of Freddy’s affair with his wife. His handsome face lit up at the sight of his one-time fishing companion and, ignoring their intended purchases, they reminisced about the fun they had had.

  Glancing at his watch Freddy realised it was now too late to meet Sheila, she would be on the way to the bus stop.

  ‘Come for a drink?’ Maurice asked.

  ‘I can’t. I’m still not old enough,’ Freddy replied.

  ‘Come on, boy, that never stopped you before!’ Maurice grabbed his arm and led him to the nearest pub where he ordered them a beer. ‘Now, before I bore you about my brief visit to Australia, tell me what’s been happening in your life.’

  ‘Not a lot,’ Freddy said warily. ‘I’ve been planning Mam’s garden for this competition the village is entering.’ He felt in his pocket and on the back of an envelope he drew out the plan for the front garden, with its flower beds and shrubs. ‘What d’you think?’ he asked. Then, as Maurice began to take hold of the envelope, he snatched it back. It was a letter from Sheila. ‘No, on second thoughts,’ he said hurriedly, ‘I don’t want to give away my secrets. Get your own plan worked out you lazy so and so!’ Laughing, he put the letter back in his pocket and fastened the button with a shaking hand.

  They caught the bus back together and when Maurice dropped off at the bottom of Sheepy Lane he called back to remind Freddy of the fishing trip they had mentioned.

  ‘I’ll call and see you,’ Freddy shouted back down the stairs of the bus. ‘Staying with your mam, are you?’

  ‘That’s right, boy. Playing it cagey I am!’

  Freddy didn’t go straight home but walked along the road towards The Drovers, wanting to think and, above all, recover from the tension of talking companionably to Maurice while he remembered making love to his wife. He wished his leave was not as long as a week. Best if he kept away and gave Sheila time to see through Maurice and tell him goodbye. He was sure in his heart that she knew he, Freddy Prichard, offered her the best chance of future happiness. But he was also sure that she needed to get Maurice out of her system.

  Maurice went home and sat at the table listening to his mother’s quiet chatter, eating the meal she put before him. But his mind was not on the words or the food. He was thinking of Delina. All the time he was away he imagined her waiting for him, still loving him, and learning that she had forgotten him to the extent of becoming engaged to another man had been a severe blow.

  To discover that the man was Tad Simmons, someone who had punched the noses of several of the locals and who turned out to be a small, irritable-looking individual had made him want to laugh. Delina must be out of her mind to look at a man like Tad. He had heard of marrying on the rebound and thought that was the explanation here. He’d show Delina what sort of a man Tad Simmons was, show him up in front of her, make her see
clearly what she was settling for. Second best? Not even that.

  Throughout the early evening his mother’s house filled up with casual visitors. Among them were Phil-the-post and his wife Catrin.

  ‘Well, Maurice, little brother,’ Phil said to the young man who topped him by six inches. ‘Tell us, what did you really think of Australia, you’ve said so little about it. You couldn’t have stayed in the hostel for all the weeks you were there!’

  ‘I didn’t go far, I didn’t have the money to do any sight-seeing,’ Maurice replied, settling into a deep armchair and preparing to spend an hour talking. He owed them that much. They had all contributed to the fare for his return.

  ‘Did you bathe?’ Catrin asked. ‘What about this Bondi Beach we hear so much about?’

  ‘Duw, not half as good as Rossili! Shark nets, mind, to add a bit of excitement. But it isn’t as long as the beach on Gower. There’s more sunshine, I have to admit that,’ he added. ‘It’s all very bright, like a picture postcard of some exotic paradise, palm trees and yuccas, and even the birds wear bright fancy dress. None of your little brown sparrows. Hot sun, scantily-dressed beach girls but, d’you know, I was homesick almost as soon as I got there. I actually missed the rain pissing down and the hills covered with mist for half the time, and the green grass and,’ he grinned at them, ‘and Mam’s cooking.’

  He spoke for a while about his brief sojourn in that far off sunny country but his mind wasn’t on what he was saying. He was thankful when Phil stood up and offered Catrin her coat. At nine o’clock he found his own coat and went up the lane to stand and wait once more outside Tad’s house for Delina to appear.

  By this time he knew her routine. On the evenings Tad attended night-school she walked Dawn home at about eight and would leave Tad’s house, alone, at ten. Tonight he would walk home with her and they would talk. He would make her see how foolish she was being, pretending to love that Tad Simmons.

  He waited a little way past Tad’s house on Hywel Rise and watched as Tad saw her to the door. His fingers curled as he saw them kiss goodnight.

  ‘Make the most of that, boyo,’ he muttered, ‘it’s likely to be the last one you’ll get!’

  Delina didn’t seem surprised to see him.

  ‘Hello, Maurice. Waiting for someone, are you?’

  ‘Yes, you, Delina.’

  ‘Oh? I didn’t think there was anything to say to each other, that was all done with months ago.’

  ‘I tried to keep away, knowing about you and Tad, then I realised that for you, as well as me, that was a mistake. Mistakes abound where you and I are concerned, but it isn’t too late. At least you can come out of yours easier than I can, and that’s a start. Tell him goodbye, Delina. Let you and me start picking up the debris of last year’s fiasco and prepare for the future.’

  She was silent and he glanced at her perfect profile, the lovely blonde hair hidden by a thick woollen scarf. Perhaps the scarf was blocking her ears and she hadn’t heard a word of what he had said. Less confidently he began again.

  ‘Delina, it isn’t too late for us to regain what we had last year. I still love you and all the time I was in Australia I thought of nothing else but our reunion. It isn’t too late but you must tell Tad goodbye and—’

  ‘I heard you, Maurice, I’m just trying to think of how to tell you without hurting your feelings too much. I was mistaken when I thought I loved you. I know that, now, having met Tad. He is my future, not you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘You’re wrong! You and me, we’re—’

  ‘Finished, Maurice. I feel nothing except relief that Sheila’s baby prevented me from making a mistake that I’d have regretted all my life.’ She looked at him then, her expression unseen in the darkness of the winter evening. ‘Go to Sheila and make a fresh start, Maurice. She’s your future, not me.’

  They had almost reached her house and Maurice took hold of her arm. ‘You’re thinking of Sheila, aren’t you? Trying to do what’s best for her. But that’s crazy, she and I will never make a success of a marriage. It’s you I want and I know you want me. Admit it, and let’s tell the world, please Delina. I love you. I know you still love me.’

  ‘Sorry, there’s no chance for us, ever. I’m going to marry Tad and nothing could make me happier.’ She stepped inside and closed the door firmly, leaving him staring at its lighted glass window, waiting for her to re-appear. Although he waited for more than an hour, she did not.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The snow waited around for more and a week later the Vetch field had to be cleared of six inches of freshly fallen, white lagging before the Swansea football game could begin. In the gardens of several houses tall snowmen appeared, dressed in a variety of scarves and hats raided from cupboards when parents were otherwise engaged. Dawn joined Oliver and Margaret in the large garden behind Nelly’s cottage and, assisted by George, made a magnificent snowman with a pair of George’s Wellington boots forming the base and a battered umbrella under his arm.

  Ice formed on his surface, polished by the children’s hands, and gave a sheen that showed in the early evening, ghostly and alien, giving Bobby and Spotty a fright that made them bark, walk backwards into the cottage and peer nervously out through the door.

  Delina and Tad came to call for Dawn and stayed to admire the pale gentleman, and marvel at his sculpted face and hands.

  ‘We brought your camera, Dawn,’ Tad said, ‘in case you want a photograph.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Margaret shouted, ‘come on, Dawn, take Oliver and me hugging him!’

  ‘No thanks! I can’t waste a photograph on that!’ Margaret wondered if ‘that’ meant the snowman or herself.

  Ignoring Dawn’s muttered protests, Tad took one of the three children, Margaret and Oliver laughing, Dawn showing a pout, the snowman’s stony eyes indifferent to the un-spoken quarrel going on around him.

  * * *

  Maurice still lived at the cottage on Sheepy Lane with his mother, although Ethel frequently tried to send him up to the house on St Illtyd’s Road with various messages, inviting Sheila for Sunday tea or asking him to take up a cake she had baked, or drop in with a recipe or a knitting pattern. Maurice avoided all her efforts, he could see no future for himself and Sheila as a couple. Sheila was attractive, and sex with her was always exciting, but there was nothing more. Good as it was, you couldn’t spend more than a small part of your day lying down naked! They had nothing to talk about and any attempt at a conversation was reduced to Sheila’s description of the clothes she wanted or some gossip about her neighbours. She disapproved of most people, he realised, and he began to understand why she seemed to have no friends.

  ‘Why don’t you go out with Bethan?’ he asked one day as they walked down the snow-edged lane to where she would catch her bus for work. He had been walking in the crisp and clear early morning, across the fields, through the woods to where he could look down on Billie’s farm, binoculars around his neck, a small book of bird recognition in his hand.

  ‘She’s a bit boring, Maurice,’ she said, and sighting the book added, ‘we can walk for hours and she won’t see a thing.

  It’s not like that when I go out with you, you make everything interesting, you do, you’re so knowledgeable.’ She looked up at him with her lovely eyes, widening them and showing adoration in their clear blue, shining depths.

  ‘Here’s your bus. Lucky you are to be working. I haven’t found anything yet,’ he said, catching hold of her arm and hurrying her towards the bus stop.

  ‘Try to get your old job with the builders,’ she called from the platform of the maroon bus. ‘Prue Beynon might be glad to have you back.’

  She boldly blew a kiss. If only he’d decide to stay then she stood a chance of winning him back. I’ll make it clear that I forgive him and will take him back. As if I’ve left him in any doubt, she thought as she found a seat on her own at the top of the bus where she could day-dream uninterrupted.

  Perhaps, she decided belatedly, I would have been bette
r to play hard to get when he came back to Hen Carw Parc. But with a strong desire for his loving that was not as easy as it sounded. She was weak, she knew that. She patted her tummy and the reminder of just how weak made her shiver with anxiety. This time it would be different. She would have her baby and go home, to Maurice, who would love them both and never leave them again. If Maurice stayed she wouldn’t be weak with anyone else. She wouldn’t need anyone else. She imagined telling him about the baby, their baby so far as he or anyone else would know. And in her mind saw him holding her tight, promising never to leave her, weeping with joy. Soon she would tell him and he would realise what she was offering him and accept that their destinies were linked. She sighed deliciously. That sounded so romantic.

  * * *

  Maurice walked back up Sheepy Lane. He didn’t go back to his mother’s house but walked up to stand and wait outside Delina’s house for her to come out.

  He knew her movements well, having spent hours watching the comings and goings in her council house. Glancing at his watch he wondered vaguely where she was as the time for her bus approached. Then he saw her hurrying out of her gate, half running, her neat figure with the cap of shining blonde hair swaying with the rhythm of her walk, the heavy bag of books hugged in her arms, unmistakable and heart-breakingly lovely.

  He had to persuade her to give their romance another chance. He couldn’t believe that she was serious about Tad Simmons. From what he’d heard the man was nothing but a bad tempered misery, hitting out when anyone said a word he didn’t want to hear. How could a flower like Delina consider sharing a life with a man like that!

  ‘Carry your books, Miss?’ he asked, stepping out in front of her.

  ‘Maurice. What are you doing hanging about at this time of the morning?’

  ‘Waiting for you.’ He took the books from her and matched his pace to hers. ‘I’ll wait for you for ever if necessary.’