A Silver Lining (29 page)

‘Shame for her. She was such a nice girl too.’

‘Well that’s what you get for marrying above you,’ Mrs Richards said enigmatically as the women went back to their fetching, carrying and sorting.

Trevor dropped his leather bag on to the floor next to the cot, opened it and removed his stethoscope.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ he apologised, as he sat beside the baby on the bed.

‘Your other emergency?’ she asked.

‘Can’t fool a nurse. You’re just like Laura. How can you tell?’

‘The expression in your eyes and around your mouth.’

‘Mr Hughes died half an hour after I left here early this morning.’

‘Poor you. You can’t have had much sleep.’

‘It happens. You must have found that out with Andrew.’

‘Not really. It’s different, working in a big London hospital. He does his twelve-hour shift then he comes home. That’s it until the next shift. Occasionally the senior consultants get called out, but not the junior doctors like Andrew. There’s always another one around who’ll cover.’

‘That must be nice for you. Able to make dinner knowing that Andrew will come home on time to eat it.’ He warmed the disc of the stethoscope in his hands before laying it against Edmund’s bare chest.

‘It used to be,’ she murmured absently as if talking about something that had happened a long time ago.

Concentrating on listening to the baby’s heartbeat Trevor didn’t hear her answer. He frowned, then he pressed his hand gently on Edmund’s chest and abdomen. He picked him up, laid him across his knee and listened to his back.

‘His temperature
has
dropped,’ Bethan informed him eagerly as he removed the stethoscope from his ears.

‘Slightly. But he has a chest infection, Beth.’

‘Is it pneumonia?’

‘I don’t think so. Not yet.’

‘What can I do?’

‘Keep him in an even temperature. Get plenty of fluids down him. Watch him. In short do all the things you are already doing.’ He opened his bag wider and rummaged in its depths.

‘It’s bronchitis, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ he said reluctantly. ‘I wish you’d let me admit him to the hospital.’

‘They wouldn’t let me stay with him.’

‘No, they wouldn’t. But he’d be well looked after, I promise you.’

‘No, Trevor. I know you’re only trying to help, and thank you, but no.’ Her reply was firm and final.

‘I telephoned Andrew.’ He rose wearily and looked at the bedside clock. Half-past nine. He should have been in the Graig Hospital at eight. Now he wouldn’t finish on the wards much before three, and he’d still have all his house calls to make. Better to steal ten minutes as he drove down the Graig hill now, and warn Laura that he wouldn’t be home for dinner, than incur her wrath when he turned up to a burnt dinner at teatime.

‘Is Andrew well?’ Bethan might have been enquiring after a stranger.

‘I didn’t think to ask and he didn’t say. He told me to tell you he’ll be here as soon as he finds someone to take over his shift in the hospital.’

Bethan picked up Edmund and wrapped him in the cool sheet again. ‘Will it be all right if I take him downstairs to the kitchen? I have to do some work. Wash his bottles, make up his feeds. Make tea for everyone.’

‘As long as you keep him out of strong direct heat.’

‘I asked Eddie to move his cot to the corner next to the dresser in the far corner, opposite the stove.’

‘That should be all right.’ He picked up his bag. ‘Beth,’ he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. ‘You don’t have to be strong all the time. Let Andrew carry some of this load. He’s obviously prepared to.’

She allowed herself the luxury of relaxing against Trevor’s shoulder for a moment. The most marvellous thing about Trevor was his calm, steady reliability. She found herself envying Laura. Not her husband, but his dependability. Trevor would have accepted Edmund if he’d been his son, she was sure of it. She turned away and laid Edmund down in his cot.

‘You don’t understand, Trevor. Andrew doesn’t want Edmund –’

‘Of course he does,’ he contradicted fiercely, loyal to his friend. ‘You know what Andrew is; he’s never been very good at expressing his feelings. Edmund’s his son. He loves him, Beth, I’m sure of it, even if he hasn’t told you in so many words.’

‘The reason I’m here, not London, is that Andrew wanted to put him in an institution. Please, you will help me won’t you? You won’t let Andrew put Edmund in the Graig. You know as well as I do that they won’t do anything there that I can’t do for him here. Please, Trevor...’

‘I’ll try,’ he promised, resolving to get Laura to call up as soon as possible. ‘But Andrew’s a doctor, Beth. He’s going to think of both of you. And frankly I’m as worried about you as I am about the baby. You’re white as a ghost, you’re not resting properly. How long will it be before you fall ill too? Then we’ll have both of you to look after.’

‘There’s a reason for that.’ She looked up at him, her eyes dark-ringed, enormous in her pale face. ‘I’m going to have another baby.’ Her voice jerked as relief poured through her veins. It was wonderful to tell someone her secret.

‘All the more reason to put the strain of nursing Edmund on to someone else.’

‘No! And I don’t want you to tell Andrew.’

‘He doesn’t know?’

‘If he did he’d only use this baby as just one more excuse to put Edmund away. He’d say I couldn’t look after two.’

‘Edmund does need a lot of time and nursing,’ Trevor reminded her.

‘I don’t want another child,’ she said savagely. ‘Not if it means having to give up Edmund. You’re just like Andrew. You don’t understand.’

‘I’m trying to, Beth.’ He dropped his bag and sat next to her on the bed. ‘I really am.’

‘What a day,’ William complained to Charlie as they walked along Taff Street. ‘I seem to have been working forever. Humping all that furniture up and down steps. Chopping carcasses, cleaning the shop –’

‘It was worth it,’ Charlie interrupted. ‘It’s finally ready to open.’

‘I still think you’ve spent far too much money fixing up the roof and painting the outside. The place is leasehold, for pity’s sake.’

‘A lease that’s going to revert to me.’

‘And that carpet you put down in the living room of the flat.’

‘It was a bargain. Because Wilf doesn’t normally deal in them he wanted to get it off his hands.’ Charlie took a cigarette and offered one to William.

‘How about we have tea in Ronconi’s?’ William suggested as they headed towards the Tumble.

‘I think we should go home,’ Charlie said, thinking about Phyllis, and Bethan’s baby.

‘I saw Diana when I bought those pies for our dinner. Told her not to wait for us. I knew you’d hold my nose to the grindstone until this hour. There’s nothing we can do even if we do go back,’ William said bluntly, not wanting to face the sick-room atmosphere of Graig Avenue. Not just yet. He knew Bethan’s baby couldn’t help being ill, and that Phyllis and her baby had to go somewhere. He just wished they hadn’t had to come into his back kitchen. ‘There’s three women in the house and Eddie to run any errands. We’d only be in the way, particularly wanting tea.’

The prospect of a nice quiet meal in front of the fire in the back room of Ronconi’s suddenly seemed very appetising and very pleasant to Charlie. ‘All right,’ he agreed.

‘And seeing as how you squeezed every last ounce of work out of me today, I’m going to land you with the bill.’

‘As long as you eat only one dinner,’ Charlie warned as he pushed open the door to the café.

‘Tony! Double portion of sausage, chips, beans and egg, four rounds of bread and butter and a mug of strong tea,’ William shouted as he walked up to the counter. ‘And he’s paying,’ he pointed to Charlie.

‘That OK with you, Charlie?’ Tony asked, pencil poised.

‘Fine,’ Charlie murmured.

‘You having anything?’

‘Single portion of sausage and chips, no beans, and one round of bread and butter. And tea.’ Charlie looked around. The back room was hot, noisy and smoky.

‘Pub crowd in there,’ Tony warned, nodding towards the archway that separated the two rooms. ‘If I were you I’d sit in here.’

‘Good idea.’ William took the table nearest to the stove, unwound his muffler and pulled the cap from his head. He caught sight of Tina Ronconi ferrying a plateful of chips and three teas out the back and winked at her.

‘Leave those, Tina,’ Tony ordered. ‘I’ll see to them.’

‘It’s only Bobby Thomas and his crowd,’ she protested. ‘I can handle them.’

‘You don’t have to while I’m here,’ he answered brusquely. ‘See to the orders I’ve written.’ He took the tray from her hands and disappeared out the back.

‘Do you need seeing to?’ she asked, flirting outrageously with William.

‘Depends what you have in mind.’

She looked at Tony’s scribbles. ‘Three sausage and chips coming up. Two on one plate.’ She pushed the swing door open with her back and went into the kitchen shouting the order at Angelo.

Alma was at the sink washing dishes.

‘Guess what?’ Tina whispered as she crept up behind her keeping half an eye on Angelo, who was as likely to order her back out to the café as Tony.

‘What?’ Alma whispered.

‘Charlie’s just come in.’

‘Charlie?’ Alma hoped he’d wait and walk her back to the flat. She wanted to discuss her mother’s banning from chapel with him, and warn him that as well as making her mother hysterical it could adversely affect his trade. But most of all she wanted to hear his reassurance that, no matter what, the job would remain hers.

‘And I saw Mrs Richards on the Graig hill when I walked down,’ Tina continued. ‘She told me that Charlie moved Phyllis Harry into the Powells’ house earlier today when the bailiffs put her and her son out on the street. Mrs Richards said it was terrible until Charlie came and sorted everything out. Now everyone’s saying that Phyllis’s baby is his. After all, it’s the first time he’s ever put himself out for a woman.’

‘Tina, where the hell are you? Charlie and Will are waiting for their tea.’

‘Coming, Tony.’

‘What do you think of that, eh?’ Tina dug Alma in the ribs. ‘Bet you’ll never see your new boss in the same light again.’

Alma stared at the grey, soapy water. She felt as though someone had just hit the breath from her body, and she didn’t know why. After all, it wasn’t as though she cared for Charlie.

Bobby had been ugly drunk when he had come into the café, and the food had made no difference to either the drunkenness or the ugliness. His cronies, who appeared to be floating in a similar alcoholic haze, became quieter and quieter as the evening progressed, too wary of saying anything that was likely to make him even more aggressive.

After a while Bobby’s voice was the only one that could be heard. Loud, raucous, it held absolute sway in the tense atmosphere.

‘I did debate whether to let them in,’ Tony confided to Charlie and William as he refilled their teacups and carried them back to their table. ‘I hoped the food would sober them up, but it doesn’t seem to have had any effect.’

‘You, Angelo and the girls couldn’t have done much to stop them coming in,’ Charlie pointed out logically.

‘Looks like there’s six ...’

‘Seven,’ Tony corrected him.

‘Those odds are way too high, even for me.’ William let out a large satisfied burp as he ate the last of his sausage.

‘Ronnie always tried to pacify rather than confront.’ Concern creased Tony’s forehead as he wished his older brother were here to advise him.

‘Do you hear from Ronnie?’ William asked, trying to take Tony’s mind away from the troublesome group.

‘Do you hear from Maud?’

‘Two letters last week. One for Bethan redirected from London, and one for Uncle Evan and Aunt Elizabeth. Bethan’s decided not to tell her that Uncle Evan’s in jail.’

‘Maud must write more than Ronnie. We’ve only had a card from him telling us they arrived safely. Did Maud say how Ronnie’s liking it over there?’

‘From what I saw she only wrote a lot of nonsense about Ronnie.’

‘Mush?’ Tony laughed.

‘Mush and lovey-dovey,’ William agreed, glancing slyly at Tina.

Bobby chose that moment to push aside the bead curtain that separated the front from the back room. He’d intended to leave for the Cross Keys pub on Broadway, but the sight of Charlie stopped him in his tracks.

‘If it isn’t my Russian friend.’ He swaggered over to the table. Ignoring William and Tony, he pushed his bruised face close to Charlie’s. ‘See this!’ – he pointed to a cut above his left eye – ‘and this!’ His finger travelled across to a bruise on his cheekbone. ‘Do you remember how I got them? I bloody well do.’ He lunged forward but Charlie was on his feet and out of his chair before Bobby had time to form his hands into fists. The blow slammed into the back of Charlie’s empty chair, splintering the bar between the uprights.

‘You bloody coward!’ Bobby hissed. He whirled round, but Charlie was heading towards the door in an attempt to draw Bobby outside and away from Tina, who was white with shock. Bobby moved swiftly after him. Wrapping his arm around Charlie’s neck he pulled him back into the room towards the archway.

‘I don’t want to hurt you again,’ Charlie gasped as he prised Bobby’s arm away and thrust him into the thick of his friends, who were standing with bemused expressions on their faces.

William stepped close to Bobby, fists clenched at the ready. Charlie shook his head, warning him and Tony to keep their distance. While the argument was just between Bobby and him there was hope that it could be taken outside.

‘Bobby?’ Alarmed by the noise, Alma had left the kitchen and was standing behind the counter next to Tina. ‘Please ...’ she began, as he turned to face her.

‘This is nothing to do with you, you little tart,’ Bobby snarled. ‘This is between me and Mr Big here, who thinks he can come to Ponty, throw his weight around and get away with it.’ He dived head-first towards Charlie again. His head connected with Charlie’s stomach. Winded, Charlie slammed back against the partition wall.

‘This is my café and I order you to stop it. Now! Before I call the police.’ Tony’s command sounded ineffectual even to his own ears. He tried to push between Charlie and Bobby, but all he succeeded in doing was collecting a punch on the nose from one of Bobby’s mates.