Hearts of Gold (43 page)

‘Dad, please.’ Embarrassed, she stared down at the table.

‘Just tell me one thing. Was it your idea to marry him or your mother’s?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Yes’

‘He asked me. It was the only offer I had, and the way things are –’

‘What about your your young man?’ he demanded angrily. ‘Your Dr John. He seemed a nice enough fellow. Surely if he knew the circumstances he’d come running.’

‘He wouldn’t, Dad,’ she asserted bitterly.

Tina interrupted them, bringing over the pie and a knife and fork. She smiled at Bethan.

‘How are things on the nightshift?’ she asked cheerfully.

‘Fine,’ Bethan replied mechanically.

The smile died on Tina’s lips as Bethan turned away. She remembered the pit closures. It must be difficult for Bethan and her father, with only Bethan’s wages coming into the house now. Just enough money to stop the family getting dole. She resumed her place behind the counter without another word.

Picking up the knife and fork, Bethan prodded the pie. She couldn’t see what she was doing. Tears blinded her, as she remembered the last time she’d seen Andrew. The foul, cruel words he’d flung at her.

“You’ve dragged me down as far as I’m prepared to go.”

‘He left me, Dad,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s the old, old story. I should have known better. I’m sorry. I was such a stupid fool.’ Tears fell on the surface of her tea.

He put his hand over hers. ‘I didn’t come looking for you to make you cry, love.’ He had to struggle to keep his voice level. ‘I wanted to tell you that you can come home. You don’t have to stay with Alun.’

‘But Mam …’ she began.

‘Your mother’s got no say in the matter,’ he snapped. ‘Come home, love. Where you belong. I promise I’ll look after you …’ His voice trailed pathetically as the same thought crossed both their minds. How could he look after her when he wasn’t bringing a penny into the house?

Bethan pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and blew her nose, wiping her eyes at the same time in the hope that no one else in the cafe had seen her tears. ‘Alun’s bought a house on Broadway,’ she prattled in a forced bright manner. ‘It’s been empty for a while, so it’s in a bit of a state, but he intends to do it up. Turn it into a lodging house. He needs someone to cook and clean …’

‘So you’re his bloody skivvy?’

‘I’m his wife,’ she contradicted with a firmness that amazed herself. ‘He’s promised to give my baby his name.’

‘But at what price? Oh God, I wish you’d come to me with this instead of your mother.’

‘Don’t be too hard on her, Dad,’ she whispered, remembering how kind her mother had been when she’d found her in the parlour. ‘She picked up the pieces when I tried to get rid of it.’ She looked up. Evan was staring at her, horrified. ‘I know it was a stupid thing to do. Particularly when you consider I’m half a trained midwife. But I was desperate. And when she found me, Mam didn’t say one unkind word. Whatever she did, Dad, she did because she thought it was best.’

‘Then you intend to stay with him?’

‘I knew what I was doing when I married him. I’m not a child any more,’ she declared vigorously.

He’d never been prouder, or pitied her more than he did at that moment.

‘I know you’re not, darling.’ He spooned sugar into his rapidly cooling tea and stirred it. ‘But please, Beth, love, listen to me. We all make mistakes; God alone knows I’ve made enough in my time. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in nearly fifty years, it’s this. There’s no mistake so bad that you can’t walk away from it.’

‘Auntie Megan can’t walk away from hers,’ she blurted out unthinkingly.

‘I wasn’t talking about stupidity. Megan’s made her bed, she’s going to have to lie on it. What I’m trying to tell you, snookems, is that you only have one life. It’s no good making a mess of it and sticking with the mess simply because you think that’s the right thing to do. No one’s going to pat you on the back or give you a putty medal for being noble. If you can’t live out your life to make yourself happy; what chance have you got of bringing happiness to anyone else?’

He sat back and stared out of the window, embarrassed by the depth of feeling he’d put into his speech. It was fine enough. Pity he hadn’t thought to take some of his own advice years ago.

‘I know what you’re trying to tell me, Dad. And I’m grateful. I really am.’ She pushed her virtually untouched pie aside. ‘But I married Alun because I couldn’t see any other way out. And I still can’t. I work in the homes. I see what happens to the unmarrieds.’

‘That would never happen to you.’

‘Dad, I’m beginning to think we’re all one short step away from the workhouse. Alun was kind enough to take me on, and he’s found a way for both of us to make a living. I owe him for that.’

‘But …’

‘Look, I have to go. I have to make an appointment to see Matron in the morning.’ She left the table, then turned back. ‘Do the boys and Maud know I’m married?’

‘They know.’

‘Give them my love and tell them I’ll see them soon.’

‘I will.’

He pushed back his chair and left the cafe with her. ‘The next few weeks aren’t going to be easy for you,’ he warned. ‘Another day or so and the ins and outs of your wedding will be all over the Graig.’

‘The sooner the better,’ she said with more bravado than conviction. ‘There’s no going back. But thank you for offering to stand by me, Dad.’ She turned the corner, amazed at her own resolution. Perhaps she’d needed to talk to her father to sort out things in her own mind. She owed Alun for the use of his name and the respectability he’d lent to her condition. At that moment she resolved that it was her duty to pay him back in any and every way she could. Tomorrow she’d share his bed. If she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, it wouldn’t be that bad.

After all, the thought of facing unpleasantness was always worse than living through the reality.

Chapter Twenty-two

Evan waited until it was dark before be slipped out of the back door of the Graig Hotel and up the road. He looked around as he reached Phillips Street. When he was sure no one was about he climbed the steps steadily and turned the key in the lock.

‘Oh, it’s you, Evan Powell.’

‘Good evening, Rhiannon.’ He closed the front door and stepped through into the passage. ‘Phyllis around?’ he asked.

‘Upstairs resting,’ Rhiannon said tersely.

‘May I go up?’

‘You most certainly may not. I’ll call her. Go and wait in the front parlour. And make sure you pull the curtains before you turn the light on. I don’t mind telling you, Evan Powell, you’re only welcome in this house because Phyllis won’t allow me to make it any different.’

‘Thank you, Rhiannon.’ Evan closed the curtains and switched on a small table lamp in the parlour. Then he sat on the edge of the cold, hard chaise longue and waited. A large, oak-framed studio photograph of Rhiannon’s husband stared down at him.

Below it, on the mantelpiece stood a smaller one of a group of people crowding in front of a charabanc. He walked over to it and picked it up. The picture had been taken outside the chapel just before an outing. He studied the faces and recognised himself, his brother William, Rhiannon’s son Albert, Elizabeth, Phyllis and John Joseph amongst the revellers.

He, Phyllis and Elizabeth all looked so young, no older than his children were now. It had been taken the year before he’d married. Half a lifetime ago. They’d been on their way to Roath Park in Cardiff.

‘Evan.’ Phyllis came in moving with the slow awkward gait of a woman who’s almost at full term. ‘It’s lovely to see you,’ she murmured shyly.

‘And you.’ He kissed her sleep flushed cheek, and smoothed her tousled hair away from her face.

‘Sit down, won’t you?’

‘If Rhiannon will let me. To be honest, every time I come here I half expect her to put me outside the door.

‘She wouldn’t do that. She’s only worried that someone will watch the back and front of the house at the same time to see who stays.’

‘I know she worries about you. I won’t stay long. But look, love, I’ve been thinking …’

‘So have I.’ She smiled.

Completely captivated, Evan watched her. She was beautiful when she smiled. Happiness softened the lines around her mouth and eyes, and lent her face a gentle radiance that never failed to warm his heart.

‘Phyllis, please listen for a minute.’ He took her hands into his own. ‘You know I haven’t got anything.’

‘No one can say I went after you for your money,’ she laughed.

‘Let’s go away together,’ he suggested recklessly.

‘I can’t go very far at the moment.’ She patted her stomach.

‘Have you still got the money I gave you from the bet I put on Eddie?’

‘Evan, it’s only five pounds.’

‘It’s enough to get us away from Pontypridd.’

‘To where?’ she probed gently.

‘Does it matter? Anywhere, as long as it’s away from here.’

‘It will matter when the five pounds runs out. And while we’re running what will Elizabeth and the children do?’

‘Elizabeth and the children don’t need me any more. Not even Maud. She’s going to work in a hospital in a month. Bethan’s married …’

‘Bethan!’ Phyllis exclaimed. Then she sensed the pain within him and fell silent.

‘The boys can take care of themselves,’ he continued quickly, agitatedly. ‘Haydn’s got a steady job and will see Eddie all right.’

‘And Elizabeth?’ she enquired softly.

‘I couldn’t give a damn about Elizabeth,’ he said harshly.

‘Evan, I want us to be together more than anything else in the world, but not like this. Not because you’re angry with Elizabeth. That would be for all the wrong reasons.’

‘What about this little one?’ He curved his strong calloused hands with their blackened, broken nails tenderly around her stomach. ‘Isn’t he reason enough for us to be together?’

‘Not when you have other duties and other calls on you, Evan. I never intended to trap you or make you unhappy.’

‘And you haven’t.’

He left his chair and knelt at her feet. ‘Phyllis, if I talk to Elizabeth. If I square it up with her, will you come away with me?’

‘Please, sweetheart, don’t make it harder for me than it already is. You know I’d like to say yes, but I’m not sure I can. Rhiannon’s been good to me. I can’t leave her.’

‘We’ll find someone else to look after Rhiannon.’

‘Even if we did, running away from our problems won’t solve them. Nor will five pounds keep us for very long,’ she said practically.

He sank back on his heels. ‘There has to be something I can do,’ he said, raging at his own impotence.

She cupped her hands round his face. ‘Keep on coming to see me from time to time like this.’

‘And if I leave Elizabeth?’

‘Please don’t. Not on my account. We both have responsibilities. Me to Rhiannon. You to Elizabeth.’

‘Then we’ll never live together,’ he said bitterly.

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Yes you did.’

The grandmother clock ticked deafeningly into the silence. He buried his head in her lap. She ran her fingers through his thick black hair, noticing many grey strands that hadn’t been there a year ago.

‘If we could sit like this, “Sion a Sian” in front of a fireplace most nights, Evan Powell, I’d be happy,’ she murmured. ‘Even if the whole world shunned me in the day, and I didn’t have a penny to buy a lump of coal for the fire, or a slice of bread for the table.’

He lifted his head and looked at her. ‘Do you mean that, Phyllis Harry?’

She kissed the tip of his nose, and smiled into his black eyes. ‘I mean it, cariad.’

‘Then I’ll try to find a way for us to be together. I promise you, I’ll try.’

‘The only promise I want you to make is to call in and see me whenever you can,’ Phyllis replied. More realistic than Evan, she’d long since learned to be content with the cards that the fates had dealt her.

Bethan was still writing out the patients’ reports when Laura walked into the office at five thirty in the morning.

‘You’re early,’ Bethan said, closing one of the files.

‘I saw your Haydn yesterday. Beth, how could you do it? How could you marry Alun Jones without saying a word to anyone? What about Andrew?’

‘He went to London.’

‘Beth, did you ever look into his face when he looked at you? Even that first night when he and Trevor took us to the theatre, and I wanted him for myself, I tried every trick in the book and a few more, but he wouldn’t take his eyes off you. If that wasn’t love I don’t know what is. The man clearly adores you.’

‘It was that belief that got me into the condition I’m in,’ Bethan retorted crudely.

Laura’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh Holy Mother of God! Haydn didn’t say …’

‘He was probably too embarrassed.’ Bethan put down her pen and leaned back in her chair. She was finding it a lot easier to talk about her situation than she’d expected.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Laura demanded when she managed to speak again.

‘So you could do what?’ Bethan asked coolly.

‘I don’t know,’ Laura said in exasperation. ‘It’s just that I thought I was your best friend …’

‘You are.’ Bethan smiled. A grim, wintry smile that failed to touch her eyes. ‘Look on the bright side. I’m a lot better off than the Maisie Crocketts of this workhouse.’

‘But what about Andrew? Does he know you’ve married Alun?’

‘No, and I doubt that he’d care.’

‘Of course he’d care. He loves you. And if he knew there was a baby …’

‘He’d do sweet nothing. I really don’t want to talk about Andrew,’ Bethan said. ‘He left me, not the other way round. I have to think of myself.’

‘So you married Alun Jones?’

‘The child needs a name. Alun was kind enough to offer. No one else came forward.’

‘But you and Andrew were like Trevor and me,’ Laura persisted stubbornly. ‘You had something special …’

‘He had something special all right,’ Bethan said harshly. ‘He had a girl who was stupid enough to open her legs when he said he loved her.’

Laura sat down abruptly. She’d come in early to give Bethan a piece of her mind, believing that Bethan had married Alun Jones on the rebound purely to spite Andrew because they’d had a silly row. Now she didn’t know what to think.

‘Is there anything that I can do?’ she asked finally.

‘You could congratulate me,’ Bethan suggested flatly.

‘But, Beth,’ Laura ventured tentatively. ‘Is this what you want?’

‘Whether I want it or not, this is what I’ve got.’

‘Oh, Bethan.’ Laura shook her head miserably. She felt suddenly guilty for having a wedding and Trevor to look forward to.

‘Please, no pity. Not from you, I couldn’t stand it. It’s friendship I need, now more than ever.’

‘You’ve got it.’ Laura crushed her in an enormous hug. ‘You’ll always have it. I promise you.’

‘Even when you’re a doctor’s wife and live on the Common?’ Bethan tried to smile but tears fell despite her efforts. She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. ‘I’m sorry, all I seem to do these days is cry.’

‘That’s all right the starch in my uniform could do with softening. And yes, I’ll be your friend even when I’m a doctor’s wife. That’s if you’ll come to my wedding.’

‘Laura, I don’t know,’ she answered uneasily.

‘Please, you agreed to be bridesmaid.’

‘Not like this.’ Bethan laid her hand across her abdomen.

‘I’m getting married in six days not six months.’

‘In six days I will be almost six months.’

‘You don’t look it. Are you sure?’

‘You’re asking a nurse who almost made it to midwife.’

‘All right, I’ll let you off being my bridesmaid,’ Laura compromised, ‘on condition you come to the wedding as an honoured guest. I hope you realise that this means that I’m going to have to put up with all five of my sisters trotting up the aisle after me in their Whitsun dresses, because if I choose just one, the others won’t speak to me for months, if ever again.’

‘Please, Laura, I’d really rather not come if you don’t mind,’ Bethan begged.

‘I do mind.’

‘I couldn’t face him.’ Bethan didn’t have to say who “him” was. They both knew.

‘I don’t think he’ll come,’ Laura said hesitatingly. ‘I made Trevor write to him …’

‘To tell him what?’ Bethan interrupted anxiously.

‘Nothing about you, I swear,’ Laura reassured quickly. ‘I told Trevor I didn’t want him at our wedding. Not if you two weren’t speaking. After all, you’re my best friend and Andrew’s …’

‘What?’ Bethan broke in quickly.

‘Only a friend of Trevor’s. And that puts him way down in the pecking order of importance when it comes to
my
wedding.’

‘Oh, Laura,’ a peculiar expression, half pain, half tenderness, crossed Bethan’s face.

‘Then you’ll come?’

‘I’ll see.’

It wasn’t the assurance Laura wanted, but she knew that for the moment it was all she was going to get.

The pride that had sustained Bethan in her encounters with her father and Laura left her, and she felt weak, tired and sick when she finally left the hospital after seeing Matron at the end of her shift. Without thinking she turned right instead of left in High

Street and began to walk up the Graig hill towards Graig Avenue.

She reached Temple Chapel before she realised she was going the wrong way.

Feeling extremely foolish she turned and began the walk down the hill and out along Broadway. Another two weeks … that’s all she had left in the hospital before she’d be spending every minute of every day in Alun’s company.

The interview with Matron hadn’t gone as smoothly as she’d hoped. Astute and experienced in life, particularly in Pontypridd life, Matron had taken one look at her, asked if she was pregnant, and dared her to say no.

Bethan had to admit it. There was generally only one reason for marriages as quick and secretive as hers and Alun’s, and when she recalled the gossip she and Andrew had generated in the hospital – gossip Matron was undoubtedly aware of – she had blanched in embarrassment.

‘To be honest, I’ll be sorry to lose you, Nurse Powell,’ Matron announced briskly. ‘Good nurses who are responsible, reliable and prepared to work nights are few and far between.’

Bethan wondered if there really had been a flicker in Matron’s eye when she’d said the words “responsible” and “reliable” or if it had been her imagination. ‘But as you no doubt appreciate, I cannot have a pregnant nurse working on the wards,’ she continued practically. ‘Particularly the maternity ward where there’s so much heavy lifting to be done.’

‘I’m sorry to leave,’ Bethan apologised.

‘Well, at least I know why you’ve neglected your studies of late.’

‘I’m sorry, Matron,’ Bethan repeated dully.

‘I suppose it’s perfectly understandable, if disappointing given the circumstances. Young girls will marry. But don’t allow that brain of yours to atrophy, Nurse Powell. You’re an intelligent woman. Don’t forget it. And should your circumstances change and you ever want to return to nursing, please come and see me first, before applying to any other hospital.’

‘I will, Matron. Thank you.’

She’d walked away, trying not to think of her shattered career, of Alun waiting for her in the dingy house on Broadway. She shuddered at the thought of what lay ahead of her that morning.

The imminent prospect of sharing Alun’s bed, of his sweaty, hairy body lying next to hers, of him touching her as Andrew had. Kissing her, sharing the most intimate moments of her life.

She almost turned back when she reached the slaughterhouse at the town end of the road. Then she remembered she had nowhere to go. She thought of Hetty and something akin to envy stirred within her. Oblivion seemed a preferable alternative to the life that stretched before her in that damp, bleak, run down house.

She walked on along the shining, waterlogged grey pavement, glancing up at the other houses in the terrace.

Some were bright, clean, gleaming with new paint and freshly washed lace curtains at the windows. If it had been the old Andrew of the spring and early summer who’d been waiting for her further down the road instead of Alun, she’d be running towards him, not dragging her feet. Making plans to transform the house into a comfortable and cosy haven from the world.