Goodbye to Dreams (26 page)

‘Thank you, Peter, you might just have saved my sanity.’

Christmas was approaching but it seemed to Cecily like something happening in another country. She didn’t see the decorations in the shop windows, or hear the carol singers or the Salvation Army playing on the corner of the main road. None of it was a part of her world. Apart from the customers in the shop, whom she served like an automaton, her world was the living room where she spent most of her days and nights.

Dorothy didn’t go near the shop. As usual she did most of her shopping in Waldo Watkins’ store but she managed to gather all the gossip via her
group of friends. Gleefully she told her daughter all she had learned, but Annette refused to discuss what had happened to Ada and Cecily; Willie’s loyalties were hers too. Disappointed, she went to join some of her friends in the cafe, where she often met them during the half-day closing. There she felt very important, and shared all she had gleaned with added opinions of her own. But she wasn’t happy. Somehow the situation hadn’t given the spiteful satisfaction she had expected. Ada and Cecily were her sisters-in-law and a feeling of guilt at her lack of support reminded her of that fact. If her husband had lived, he would have been supportive, not spiteful. She made a cake, and sent Owen to deliver it, with a note stating her regret at their time of trouble. It sounded pompous but she didn’t feel able to send her love or some affectionate words of comfort.

Cecily looked at it and showed it to Willie, who said, ‘My Annette is a better cook than her mother.’ Which made them both laugh.

Peter found Jessie at home when he called a day later. Recognizing him, she smiled and invited him in. There were the usual offerings of tea and cake then she said, ‘I suppose you’ve come to talk about Danny and Cecily?’

Peter nodded. ‘I wondered whether you are still determined to take this to court.’

She didn’t answer and Peter added, ‘Can you cope with standing up in court and telling people about your marriage? It will be hard for you and I was going to suggest that you have your family there to support you. Cecily will have her sister, and several friends. You must do the same.’

‘I don’t think I can do it,’ Jessie whispered.

Peter was silent for a moment then asked, ‘What gave you the idea of suing for divorce? It doesn’t seem the kind of thing you’d want to do. Quiet and gentle is how I’d describe you, not bold and—’

‘Brave?’ she offered.

‘All right, brave. It takes a lot of nerve to do something like this.’

She leaned towards him confidentially, ‘I was persuaded by Mrs Owen. Mrs Dorothy Owen,’ she confided. ‘Mrs Owen and Gareth’s mother, Mrs Price-Jones.’

‘Dorothy isn’t the one to have to face it, is she?’

‘What d’you think I should do?’

‘You must do what you think is right, no one can decide for you. Now, if I could have another slice of that delicious cake, please, we’ll talk about more pleasant things.’

Two days later, Cecily heard that the decision to sue for divorce citing herself for adultery was changed and the client would go by the more usual
route and wait the relevant time. Peter was pleased when she phoned to tell him and he suggested a celebration.

‘No. It isn’t a cause for celebration, Peter. I’ve been a fool and I’ve had a lucky escape, what’s there to celebrate about that?’

Strangely, there was more talk when the court case was no longer facing her. Cecily heard remarks like wriggling out of responsibilities, luck of the devil, people like her never getting what they deserve, and Ada marrying a criminal. There were many references to their mother leaving them to live with another man, remarking that the family had bad blood. Gareth’s mother was the one who spoke loudest, grateful her son had the sense to walk away from Cecily just before they were married. Dorothy was uncharacteristically quiet.

Phil had made his appearance in court and was remanded in custody. Ada was in court but she forbade Cecily from being there. The newspapers wrote an article about the sisters, and even though the news was out of date, mentioned the divorce and the name of the co-respondent, as well as the suspicion of Phil’s involvement in the local burglaries. Van picked up the paper someone had shown her and ran out of the house, unaware of where she was going. She eventually went to Beryl and Bertie and Edwin, but said nothing about how she was feeling. She stayed a while. Beryl rang Cecily to tell her where she was, guessing Van hadn’t told her.

She went home eventually, hardly speaking to Cecily apart from telling her she was going to stay with Auntie Beryl and Uncle Bertie and Cecily agreed, although she always hated sleeping in the empty house. She watched as Van packed a bag, gave her some money in case she needed something and made her promise to go to school without fuss the following day. Van nodded, shook her head, uttering a word only when necessary.

While Cecily was in the back kitchen preparing food, Van packed a second bag and put it outside the shop. Not waiting for food, she dressed in her best clothes and opened the shop door. A protesting Cecily asked her to at least eat before she went, pleading to no avail.

‘And don’t leave any presents out for me,
Mother
. I’ll put them in the bin!’ her daughter shouted as she ran out. Van was upset and Cecily wanted to talk to her, find out what was worrying her, half afraid she had seen the article in the paper, needing to convince her that the divorce story was incorrect and it would all soon be forgotten. Van slammed the shop door behind her and the bell tinkled angrily.

Cecily didn’t bother to phone Beryl. Her daughter had just come from there so it must have been arranged. She put aside the food she had cooked
and turned on the wireless, the sounds filling the room with a false company, and it was late before she went to bed.

The next morning she looked into Van’s room wishing she and her daughter were better able to communicate. She wanted to phone Beryl to ask if Van had slept well or talk to the school later, to ask if she was all right, but she did neither. Van would not be pleased. She wondered if anything she did would please her and sadly thought not.

At four she expected her home and when she didn’t arrive, rang Beryl and Bertie to ask if she was coming home or staying an extra day.

‘Van? No, dear, we haven’t seen since her Bertie took her home at about five yesterday.’

‘But she packed her clothes, said you’d agreed to her staying the night, something about a new game Edwin had been given?’ She felt a chill that seemed to melt her bones and sank into a chair. ‘Oh, Beryl! Where is she? It was that damned article. She read that and she’s gone. But where? What’s happened to her?’

Bertie came on the phone, having heard the conversation plus
explanations
from Beryl. ‘Cecily, call the police. We’re on our way. Now don’t panic, she’ll be safe. Sensible she is, our Van. She must have known what she was doing and planned a fright for us all.’ The phone went down and, fighting off the need to scream in terror, Cecily called the police station to tell them her daughter was missing. Then she rang Peter.

Van had set off on the Cardiff bus with her plans clear in her head. She knew which bus stop to ask for and defiantly demanded a single ticket. She was never going back. The streets were crowded, the bus was
uncomfortably
full and she was pushed here and there by the excited passengers. The lively shoppers annoyed her; she resented the atmosphere of fun. The anger was really for her mother who had ruined everything. Everyone was happy except her.

Too late she realized she was on the wrong bus and got off. She was cold, the bags were heavier than she’d imagined and she began to feel nervous. What if they weren’t there? People do go away for holidays, even at this time of year. Then she saw the bus coming and confidence returned. She bought another ticket and travelled on.

Night was approaching and she began to feel afraid. She imagined knocking on the door and finding the place empty. What would she do then? If that happened, she decided, I’ll go back home, tell them I wanted to give them a fright, and try again another day. Her bus stop was reached and she stepped off, and didn’t recognize a thing. Wasn’t there a shop on the corner, selling newspapers and sweets? She was hungry and badly
needed some sweets. The houses looked different. The park railings weren’t where she’d expected to see them, the bags were heavy and she was so cold.

At Owen’s shop people were milling around and stupidly Cecily was standing in the back kitchen making tea for them all. She had spoken to the police and explained everything with complete honesty. This was no time to hide her embarrassment. They smiled reassuringly, and told her that runaway children almost always came home safely. ‘There has been no
accident
reported, so put those negative thoughts out of your mind, Miss Owen. She’s run away angry with you, upset by the newspaper report.’

‘Someone could have taken her. She was alone and she’s only a child. You do hear about such things.’

‘Not around here,’ the policeman said firmly.

Neighbours from the local shops came and were involved in the local searches, the voices of several nationalities filling the room as everyone wanted to show their concern and willingness to help. Some brought food, which was placed on the shop counter with the trays of tea brought in by Beryl and Melanie. Dorothy came with Gareth. Uncle Ben of the booming voice announced his opinion that she was a badly behaved child who should be punished for frightening her mother.

Spanish, French, Indians from the local shops came as did a couple of Norwegian sailors. All the neighbours came and mingled then went out to search. Cecily was offered worry beads by the Greek family and in a corner a lady was moving her rosary through her fingers, praying for help: Our Father followed by ten Hail Marys then offering it up to Our Lady with a request for help. She put her hand in her pocket still turning the rosary and assured Cecily that all would be well. Cecily was grateful to them all.

Peter helped with the search and told the police all the most likely places Van would visit. ‘She has plenty of friends. Cecily and I have written down all we can remember.’ He handed over a list. Men were sent to enquire at them all as Cecily tried to remember others.

A constable came in holding Horse’s wife’s arm.

‘I seen her, I did!’ the thin old lady said excitedly. ‘I seen her getting on the Cardiff bus. Struggling with two bags she was.’

She was questioned and Cardiff police were told to look out for a little girl travelling alone.

‘Could she be trying to find Mam?’ Cecily said. ‘She loved her
grandmother
.’ She felt a surge of hope. ‘I don’t know where she lives; we’ve heard nothing since she disappeared six years ago. But perhaps someone did and Van was told?’

As she had no address for her runaway mother and the likelihood was that she had changed her name, the suggestion was of little use.

‘If she has found your mother, she would surely let you know the child was safe?’

Van kept walking around the streets, not going far from where she stepped off the bus, returning to that point twice, then three times. It was the right place, it had to be. Darkness was falling and she began to feel despair. She would have to go back home. Find out the exact address then come again. She mustn’t tell them where she planned to stay. Reluctant to see the end of her adventure and her escape, she turned towards the place where she had left the bus. Unable to stand still, she wandered a little way down a street she had walked before and heard laughter. The lamp lighter had passed on his rounds, lighting the street lamps, and in the garden of a neat terraced house she saw the girls. She waved and, dragging her bags, reached the gate as their mother saw her and waved.

‘I’m coming to stay. There’s a note from Mam in my pocket,’ she shouted in excitement. ‘Terrible trouble they’re in and Mam wanted me out of it for a while. Is it all right?’

Then she saw the cause of the girls’ laughter. They had a kitten which was playing with a ball and piece of wool being swung in front of its paws and performing as only kittens can with agility and boundless enthusiasm as it attacked the toys.

‘She’s got two sisters and two brothers,’ the girls told her proudly. ‘Beautiful they are.’

Jack Simmons offered to shut his shop and mind theirs if they needed to go and search for Van. Instead, Cecily sent him to tell Ada. She didn’t want to worry her but she should be told.

Dorothy came and offered her sympathy, reminding them about her own daughter’s disappearance when she had run away to marry Willie. ‘I remember just how frightened I was,’ she said. Then she listed all the most frightening scenarios that could possibly befall Van, and all the time explaining how much harder it had been for her, knowing Willie was involved. Willie who was the kindest and most hardworking son-in-law anyone could wish for! Cecily, in her stressed state, could hardly contain her anger. Dorothy was an unpleasant person and her words were tearing at her heart.

Rhonwen, her other sister-in-law, was different. She came and without adding to her fears, stayed, and helped when something needed doing. Her daughter, the giggly Marged, helped. Cecily thought it impossible not to smile when Marged was there.

Ada arrived, demanding to know what had happened and why she hadn’t been told before. In the middle of all the chaos, young David their assistant came.

‘I’ve got something to say,’ he said to Cecily and Ada, standing together to tearfully comfort each other.

‘Something about Van?’ Cecily asked hopefully.

‘No.’ He frowned in a puzzled way. ‘It’s about me.’

‘Tell me, but hurry up, I’m waiting for news about my daughter,’ she snapped.

‘I have to give notice,’ he said.

‘Now?’ Ada said, ‘with all this going on?’

‘Mam says I mustn’t stay with divorce and criminals and all sorts of carrying on, and your mam running off with some man and – and so I have to give my notice.’