* * *
‘What’s your Maurice doin’ about Sheila?’ Nelly came straight to the point when she went to see Ethel later that day. ‘I knows about the baby so you can talk straight with me.’
‘What a mess it all is, Nelly,’ Ethel sighed. ‘They were arranging for a divorce and now, well, how can they apply on the grounds of breakdown of marriage with her expecting! Maurice was advised to sue for adultery but I begged him not to. There are enough lives ruined already without bringing Freddy into it. He’s only a boy and doesn’t deserve to become entangled in all this.’
‘If it is his baby, then he is tangled good and proper, ain’t ’e?’
‘You don’t really think it’s his, do you?’
‘You don’t think it isn’t?’ Nelly countered.
‘I think I’ll emigrate to Australia and stay there until all this is settled,’ Ethel smiled. ‘Pity Maurice didn’t stay there, poor boy.’
‘I think Sheila deserves some of yer pity,’ Nelly said, her eyes watching Ethel as she poked the fire and added more coal. ‘She ain’t no saint, but I think Maurice owes her somethin’ fer what ’e did to ’er last year, marryin’ ’er then leavin’ ’er to face the baby and the death of it all alone, don’t you?’
‘You’re right I’m sure, Nelly, but Maurice is my son and I can’t help putting him first.’
‘I found Sheila walking along in the pourin’ rain last night. ’Owlin’ ’er eyes out. I was frightened at the state of ’er, Ethel, afraid she might do somethin’ to ’erself. She was soaked and didn’t care. ’Air all scraggling, no umbrella, only a soggy scarf on. Frightened and with no one to ’elp ’er. Gas ovens ain’t only the solution fer the simple-minded, they’re a temptation fer the despairin’. She’s only young, Ethel. Talk to your Maurice why don’t yer?’
Nelly went home and sat waiting for six o’clock when she had arranged to go back to Ethel’s and meet Sheila there. The rain continued to fall and Nelly’s coat was put in front of the fire to steam and spread a stale, damp smell through the room.
At six o’clock she and Ethel sat waiting for Sheila to arrive. They said little and the room was silent apart from the slow ticking of the wall clock and the gentle restlessness of the simmering kettle. At seven-thirty they faced the fact that she wasn’t coming.
* * *
In town, Sheila had turned back as she was about to step on to her bus. She was unable to face the inquisition of Ethel and Nelly, unwilling to bargain for some begrudging help for herself and her baby. She would survive, with or without Ethel’s support she’d make a life for herself and this baby. Delina would see how much stronger she was. Delina wouldn’t see her begging for crumbs. Paying her money, she went into the cinema and sat enthralled through Creature from the Black Lagoon.
* * *
Johnny wanted to buy something for his new baby. He knew that with her usual efficiency Fay would have bought all they needed, but he wanted to give the baby a present from himself, something he had chosen and bought.
Occasionally on the way through town between work and home he would stop and look self-consciously in shop windows displaying baby clothes, but he lacked the nerve to go inside. There were usually young women inside looking at the garments the assistants placed on the counter for them to see, smiling and holding up each small item, discussing the merits with the assistants and finally choosing and seeing it placed in a bag to be carried home.
Several times he told himself he was a fool, lacking the confidence to buy for his own child, and even managed to get as far as the door, but he couldn’t go inside. One shop was just changing its window display and in the centre of the window was a beautiful pram-suit. Too large he guessed from his study of the contents of several shops and the age and measurements marked on them. But when winter came the baby would be sitting up and then… He wanted it. Of all the garments he had hesitated over this was the best. He marched to the door, looked through the glass window, and backed away. Three young women were inside being attended to by assistants. He couldn’t go in there, not with all those women.
He turned, desperately looking for a solution to his problem and saw Sheila walking towards him. She would help. He’d ask her to go in and buy it for him.
‘Sheila, will you do me a favour? It won’t take a minute.’
Not answering, Sheila looked at him and the way he was gesturing towards the baby clothes in the window.
‘Go in and buy a pram-suit, will you? I can’t go in there but it’ll be easy for you to go in, you being—’ Being a woman he was about to say but to his surprise and alarm Sheila shrieked at him.
‘Mind your own business, Johnny Cartwright! Find someone else as a butt for your schoolboy humour!’
‘Sheila, I only wanted you to…’ He saw to his alarm that she was crying and for a few moments he followed her but she slipped away from him. Worried about how he had upset her, he went home.
At his mother’s house he called and went in. Netta was ironing, her rosy face bright with the heat, her white hair a glorious frame. His wife, Fay, was sitting near the fire.
‘Fay, love, there’s a nice surprise. Been working local have you?’
‘No, I haven’t been to work today.’
‘Not ill are you?’ Johnny asked anxiously and Fay and Netta both smiled.
‘No, I’ve just stopped work.’
‘Yn wir? Honestly? Duw, that’s good news, isn’t it, Mam?’
‘Only until July. I’ve been promised I’ll have my job back. Someone who has retired is going back to look after my customers for me for a few months, just to give me time to get my strength back and find someone really suitable to look after the baby.’
‘Oh, I see. I thought…’
‘Johnny, I only stopped work this morning and already I’m bored and thinking about how soon I can get back! I’d never settle for domesticity.’
‘No, my lovely. You know best.’ He smiled and hugged her. ‘My clever wife who’ll be the best mother Hen Carw Parc has ever seen. Lucky baby he’ll be.’ Netta put the ironing away and brought in a tray of tea. She said nothing when the subject of Fay’s career was mentioned. She hoped that something would happen to change Fay’s mind but was wise enough not to show her dismay when so far it had not.
‘Mam,’ Johnny asked flopping into an armchair, ‘what’s up with Sheila?’
‘Unhappy about Maurice not wanting her. Being abandoned twice is enough to make anyone unhappy. Why?’
‘I saw her in town and asked her to go in and buy something for me and she acted as if I’d insulted her.’ He explained about the pram-suit for his baby and Netta frowned.
‘Sounds as if you hit a nerve. Perhaps she’s expecting again. Funny, Phil next door hasn’t said anything and he’s always first to spread the news.’
‘If you like the pram-suit, I’ll go and buy it for you, Johnny,’ Fay smiled.
‘No, no. It’s something I want to do. But it’s funny about Sheila, isn’t it?’
‘I’ll go and see Ethel, she’ll know although she might not want to say,’ Netta said. ‘Perhaps Amy will know. No, best I don’t ask her in case she thinks of Freddy. Oh dear, I suppose we’d better wait for Phil-the-post to tell us.’
So, gradually, the news of Sheila’s new baby was spread around the village with a variety of reactions. Maurice was embarrassed but warned by Ethel not to deny or accept responsibility. Sheila was brazen, holding herself so people could see that her usually slim figure was gradually swelling. But nothing was spoken about the situation between Sheila and Maurice.
People who knew them both, reacted with amusement or disgust. Few supported her and among those who did were Nelly and Bethan. Bethan and she recommenced their Tuesday evenings out and dressed up for the occasional walk on Sunday afternoons, laughing and flirting when the opportunity presented itself. The few brave enough to ask outright what Sheila intended to do were told firmly and not too politely to mind their business. Around her curiosity simmered.
Chapter Seventeen
Having made the decision to marry Victor, Amy began to prepare for the wedding. She knew that however she tried to make it a small, private affair in deference to the still recent death of Imogine, the village would not allow the event to pass without a real celebration.
‘What a year this’ll be, Amy,’ Nelly said as she scrubbed the floor of the storeroom one Sunday morning. ‘Cricket matches that threaten to start a war, Best Kept Village and all the little jealousies that’s brought to the surface, and your weddin’. Lovely it’ll be, we’ll all find some really smart clothes fer that day, Amy.’
‘You mean you won’t turn up in George’s wellingtons?’ Amy laughed.
‘I wouldn’t let you down, not on yer weddin’ day,’ Nelly said solemnly. Then with a grin added, ‘Not unless it’s rainin’ o’ course!’
‘Of course,’ Amy smiled.
‘You ’avin’ the church ’all? Pity the new one ain’t finished. You being married to your Victor would start it off in style.’
‘Victor and I have already seen the Reverend Barclay Bevan and he’s agreed to marry us and let us have the hall. I don’t think I’ll get caterers in, though, I want to do it myself with some help from friends, of course. That way it’ll be a real village wedding.’
‘You inviting that poor Billie Brown?’ was Nelly’s next question.
‘Of course. I want all my friends there.’
‘Blimey, I ’opes them two rivals don’t start a punch up! Which reminds me, have you ’eared anything more about the argument between Maurice and Tad? Fancy ’im bein’ a fighter, although I should have guessed the way he punched my George’s nose for ’im once.’
‘Delina and Tad seem very happy now and as for Maurice, he seems to be keeping his head well down. Because of Sheila’s condition probably. What Ethel must think about the way he’s behaving to that poor girl I can’t imagine!’ She superstitiously crossed her fingers as she spoke.
‘So things is lookin’ up all round?’
‘Yes, at least they were, look who’s coming.’
Sheila walked towards the shop door which stood open to dry the floor Nelly had just washed.
‘We’re closed, Sheila, sorry,’ Amy said.
‘I only wanted a word, Mrs Prichard,’ Sheila glared at Nelly. ‘In private.’
Amy’s heart sank. A discussion about the pregnancy was something she hoped they wouldn’t have, now it seemed it was about to happen. Well, nothing was ever gained by putting off the inevitable.
‘Go and put the kettle on will you, Nelly love?’ She gestured to Sheila to come inside. ‘I can’t be long, mind, I have to get back and cook for Margaret and Oliver.’
‘On their own, are they?’
‘Only for an hour or two,’ Amy said sharply. Surely this girl wasn’t telling her how to look after Margaret now?
‘You know I’m expecting?’ Sheila touched her stomach with a proud hand.
‘I’ve heard. What are you going to do? Is Maurice going to stay this time? I think he should, he owes you that much and more for the way he treated you last year.’ Amy spoke fast as if to drown out the words she dreaded to hear. ‘I think everyone in the village thinks he was wrong to go like he did, best he settles down now and faces his responsibility.’
‘It’s not Maurice’s baby and he knows it. I tried to pretend it was his but he knew it wasn’t. Freddy is the father. I’ve told Maurice and his mother but so far I haven’t told Freddy or anyone else, except my friend, Bethan. What d’you think I should do now, Mrs Prichard?’
‘What d’you want me to say, Sheila? You know I don’t want Freddy tied to a married woman who doesn’t love him. You still want Maurice, don’t you?’
‘I want some support for me and my baby, Mrs Prichard. What d’you think I should do?’ she repeated, her blue eyes widening, her face showing childlike anxiety. ‘I haven’t anyone to talk things over with, only Bethan, and she thinks you should help. Unless I tell Freddy, of course. Glad to help he’d be, don’t you think, Mrs Prichard?’
Was it her imagination or did Sheila emphasise the Mrs? Amy was no more a married woman than Sheila was a virgin. They were silent for a while, each sizing up the other. Through a crack in the door Nelly watched and listened.
‘What do you think I should do?’ Amy asked in a low voice.
‘That’s up to you, but if we don’t want Freddy involved, then at least you could help me with some money. There’ll be a lot to buy if this baby isn’t going to suffer. I don’t want him to suffer the embarrassment of not having enough clothes or a decent pram.’
‘You’re asking me for money?’
‘Well, yes, Mrs Prichard. And help when the baby comes, you know how useless Mam and Dad will be. For Freddy’s sake really, isn’t it?’
‘Go now, we’ll talk later.’ Amy opened the door to its widest and watched as Sheila walked down the road and turned down the lane to the back of the fish and chip shop. She was going to relate the interview, word for word, point by point, with Bethan.
‘Tell ’im, Amy!’ Nelly came into the shop as Amy was closing the door behind her visitor. ‘You can’t carry the burden of that fer one single day. Write to Freddy an’ tell ’im what she’s sayin’.’
‘I’ve been in her situation, Nelly, without anyone to help. I can’t wish it on her. Not liking her just makes it that much harder, but I have to help her.’
‘All right, but you still have to tell Freddy.’
‘You’re right, of course, but it will ruin his chances of a happy life. I want so much for him and Margaret to be happy.’ More briskly, she added, ‘And Victor and I will have to shelve our plans to marry. I can see me having to look after the baby while Sheila works just like I looked after Prue’s baby while she was ill. Someone will have to help and I can’t see those two upstairs being willing to, can you?’
Sadly, Nelly agreed. ‘When will things start going right for you, Amy?’
‘Not until I’m too old to care!’
* * *
Amy saw very little of her sister, Prue. Since recovering from the depressive illness that had hit her after the birth of her daughter, Sian, almost a year ago, she had been looked after by a woman employed to help in the house and share responsibility for the baby. It had worked out well, but some animosity, as yet unexplained, separated her from Amy. She rarely came into the shop, preferring to go into town and get what she needed. Twice she had walked out of Amy’s house when Freddy appeared.
‘It’s as if most of her resentment is aimed at Freddy, but I can’t imagine why,’ she told Victor when Prue had again walked past them without speaking. They were in town for a rare visit to the cinema with Delina and Tad and Daniel looking after the children.
‘Didn’t Freddy work for her?’ Victor asked.
‘Yes, until he left to join the army.’
‘Perhaps she is angry with him for leaving her after her husband died? Illness can turn disappointment into a grudge.’
‘Perhaps. I don’t understand why she’s been so odd. Since she moved back to her own home with Florrie Gwyn to look after her she’s hardly set foot in my house, and all those months while she was in hospital I cared for little Sian as if she were my own.’
‘Now you might have a baby to mind once again.’
‘So it seems. Funny, that gypsy friend of Nelly’s told me I’d have a baby in my arms. I’d better go and see if she can see another. Nice to know where I stand,’ she laughed.
‘Whatever happens, we stand together, Amy love, remember that.’
‘Victor, if I have to help bring up Sheila’s baby, I can’t marry you. We’ve been over this time and again and well, I can’t do it to the boys. They’ll resent me enough without inflicting a crying baby on them. Different house, different family and attitudes and a squealing child? We couldn’t do it, Victor. It wouldn’t be fair.’
‘Don’t cancel anything yet, promise me that. Who knows what Sheila will do? Who knows what your F
reddy will do? And there’s Maurice. He might decide to accept the baby and stay. There is an ironic justice in that. So many “ifs” there’s got to be a slight chance for us among them?’
‘All right, we’ll give it to the end of April and decide then.’
They went to join the queue for the cinema but changed their minds as they approached the head of the queue where the uniformed man was gradually allowing a few people at a time to cross the foyer and buy their tickets.
‘Come on, Amy, let’s go to a pub and talk instead.’
* * *
Near Nelly’s gate in the lane there was a tap. Before Evie and Mrs Norwood Bennet-Hughes had arranged for the new bathroom to be installed in the cottage Nelly and George had used it, carrying all their water down the cinder path into the house. Now it was only used by Farmer Leighton to fill the old bath in the field where he kept his old plough-horses.
Coming up the lane one day, after cleaning for Mrs Williams, Nellie heard voices and when she turned the corner saw a crowd of young people around the tap, filling bottles and drinking from them, laughing, chattering. Among them were Bobby and Spotty enjoying cuddles and the occasional tid-bit, and George.
It was the first time since his recent bout of illness that he had felt strong enough to walk up the path to the gate and she hurried to make sure he was all right.
‘’Ello, you some of them ramblers?’ she called, seeing from the trousers and waterproof coats and thick boots that they were out on a walk.
‘Nelly, love, these people are a bit lost. They’ve come from the old brick-works at Cymer and are heading for Leighton’s place.’
Nelly didn’t reply immediately, she was counting heads. ‘If you don’t mind a few cups without ’andles we can offer you a cup of tea before you carry on, eh?’ she offered. ‘Then me an’ the dogs’ll see you on your way.’ Her words were greeted with an enthusiastic chorus of thank you’s.
Valley in Bloom Page 22
