Homecoming (40 page)

‘I will.'

‘And when you're at work?'

‘I'll sort something out. My sister lives next door to us and Lily's uncle and his wife are up the road.'

‘It's good to know families still rally around in an emergency.' The doctor left his seat. ‘You'll want to see her.'

Jack waited until Brian was busy with their first customer of the day before asking if he could use the telephone in the office. After sending the receptionist out to make tea, he dialled the number of the warehouse. The minute it took for the switchboard to connect him to the buyer's desk dragged and he was resigning himself to failure when her heard Helen recite, ‘Helen Clay, Buyer,' in a businesslike voice.

He steeled himself for rejection. ‘It's Jack.'

There was a momentary silence before she asked, ‘Have you heard how Lily is?'

‘Martin telephoned this morning. She had a restful night and the baby's heartbeat is strong.'

‘That's wonderful news.' Even on the telephone her relief was palpable.

He debated whether or not to mention that he knew she had been at the home but eventually settled for, ‘I'd like to see you.'

‘Why?'

‘We are still married, Helen.'

‘You want a divorce?'

‘Do you?' When she didn't reply, he asked, ‘Can I come to the house?'

‘No.' The refusal was brittle but final.

‘I'll meet you anywhere you like.'

‘The beach in front of the house next Sunday morning at eight o'clock, there's generally no one about at that time.'

‘Not sooner?'

‘No.'

‘And if it's tipping down with rain?'

‘We'll wear raincoats.'

‘Tea, Mr Clay.' The receptionist set a cup down at his elbow.

‘As one of your women obviously wants you …'

‘That was the receptionist Brian's taken on in the garage.'

‘If you change your mind about next Sunday, Jack, don't bother to call again. I generally go for a walk around that time in the morning anyway.'

‘Helen …' He realised he was talking down a dead line.

‘Is everything all right, Mr Clay?'

‘The tea's fine, thank you,' he replied abruptly.

Martin gingerly opened the door to the treatment room. Some time during the previous evening, the examination couch and desk had been carried out and replaced with a single iron bedstead. Lily lay flat in the bed, her head resting on a thin pillow. She looked at him warily as he stepped closer. Then he saw there were tears in her eyes.

‘I'm sorry, Marty. I should have told you …'

‘It's me who should be sorry, love,' he whispered. ‘How are you feeling?'

‘A bit groggy, but the matron said that's because of the morphine I was given to stop me from losing the baby.' She looked intently at him. ‘I know you were here yesterday because the matron told me, but I'm not sure if I remember seeing you or I dreamed it. Did you really say that you don't mind about the baby?'

‘I only wish you hadn't felt that you had to keep it from me.'

‘You were so worried about the money we borrowed and the garage … the garage.' She looked at the clock on the wall opposite the bed. ‘You should be in work …'

‘The boss gave me the morning off.'

‘Marty, you have to go in.'

‘I will,' he assured her, ‘just as soon as I can be sure that you will be all right.'

‘The doctor says I have to stay here for at least a week.'

‘Which is why you have to tell me what you want from home so I can bring it up tonight.'

‘You can't come and see me here every day.'

‘Watch me.' He took her hand into his as he sat beside her. ‘Promise me something.' He looked deep into her eyes. ‘Don't keep any secrets from me, ever again.'

‘I'll try.'

‘Your wife should rest now, Mr Clay.' The doctor stood in the doorway, Matron behind him.

Martin nodded. ‘I can come to see her tonight and bring some clothes?'

The doctor looked to the matron.

‘As long as you realise that the visit will be short and supervised. Yes, Mr Clay, you can visit.'

As Martin left the house he felt as if he had climbed Everest – and was standing alongside Hillary.

Chapter Twenty-one

Elvis Presley's ‘Heartbreak Hotel' was playing on the jukebox in the Italian café as Judy opened the door. Wishing that someone had chosen a more innocuous song, she looked around and saw Sam sitting in a booth, an empty cup and saucer and an overflowing ashtray in front of him. They stared at one another for a moment. When she realised that he wasn't going to acknowledge her, she went to the counter and ordered a coffee just as ‘Heartbreak Hotel' was lifted from the turntable and replaced by ‘Secret Love'.

Feeling as though fate was conspiring against her, she walked over to his booth. ‘Can I get you anything?'

He indicated the cup in front of him. ‘That is my third.'

‘I said I'd be here at four, it's five minutes to.' She made an effort to keep the irritation from her voice.

‘My shift finished two hours ago. Normally I would have gone to bed so I could have enjoyed my evening but you put paid to any chance of my doing that.'

Wondering if she'd ruined his evening by breaking off their engagement or by suggesting that they meet at four o'clock in the afternoon, she managed a bland, ‘Thank you for coming.' Taking off her coat, she folded it, set it beside her, and slid on to the bench seat opposite his.

‘You said we have to talk.' He pushed a cigarette into his mouth and lit it without offering her one. ‘I take it you've changed your mind about what you said yesterday and want to apologise to my mother.'

‘No.'

‘You don't want the ring back.'

‘No.'

‘Then I don't see that we've anything to say to one another.' Closing his cigarette packet, he blew smoke into her face and returned it to his shirt pocket.

‘I haven't changed my mind about breaking off our engagement but I shouldn't have done it the way I did. I was angry …'

‘I noticed,' he broke in caustically.

‘I think I had a right to be angry after what your mother did, Sam,' she said quietly.

‘If you've come here to complain about my mother …' He fell silent as the waitress set a cup of frothy milky coffee, which only the Italian cafés seemed to serve, in front of her.

‘I haven't, but she shouldn't have interfered with my choice of bridesmaids' dresses.'

‘The dresses were for my cousins. It was reasonable of them to expect to get some wear out of them afterwards.'

‘If they had paid for the material and met the dressmaker's bill I might agree with you,' she protested. ‘But I chose a pattern and material that complemented the dress I had chosen for myself. I paid for them and I think I was entitled to have what I paid for.'

‘Even if it would have been a waste, if they had only been worn the once …'

As Judy listened to his catalogue of excuses, she could hear the voice of his mother breaking through and, just like the day before, she wondered why it had taken her so long to realise that she didn't love Sam. All the signs had been there, obvious for her to see. Their constant arguments, more often than not about trivialities; the differences of opinion they had on just about everything important – like where they should live; whether or not she should work; the lovemaking that had been so disastrous for her from the outset. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, recalling Brian's tender caresses of the night before.

Little wonder her mother had been unable to explain what making love could be like when it was with the right person. Even after she had experienced it, she had a problem finding words to describe how Brian had made her feel – loved, cherished, special, so very special …

‘… You're not listening to me.' Sam's complaint shattered her thoughts. She started guiltily.

‘Sorry.' She set aside her memories of the night before and tried to concentrate. ‘There is no point in us discussing the bridesmaids' dresses now that they are made.'

‘That is exactly what my mother said,' he crowed triumphantly.

‘Please, Sam, we have more important things to talk about than the bridesmaids' dresses, like cancelling our wedding and deciding the most appropriate way to return our engagement presents.'

‘Then you are still determined to cancel the wedding?'

‘Surely you don't think that we can go ahead after everything that's happened!' she exclaimed incredulously.

‘Provided you make a suitable apology to my mother, yes.'

‘What about what you did to Brian?'

‘You've seen him.' After a momentary pause, he added, ‘You must have, Judy, to know what I did.'

‘Yes, I have,' she conceded flatly, reaching for her handbag. ‘I wrote ten letters to people we sent invitations to last night. I haven't posted them yet.' She removed one of the envelopes.

‘Then you are having second thoughts.'

‘No!' She only realised she'd raised her voice when half the heads in the café turned in their direction. Colouring in embarrassment, she pulled the letter from the envelope and handed it to him. ‘I read it again this morning and it seems all right to me. If you agree with the wording I thought I would ask the printer to run off enough copies beginning “Dear” with a blank to be filled in, to send to everyone we invited.'

He smoothed the paper on to the table and read:

Dear Lily and Martin,

I regret to inform you that my wedding to Sam Davies has been cancelled. Sam and I both agree that we are not suited to one another. I am very sorry for any inconvenience this has caused you.

Yours sincerely,

Judy

‘Since when have we agreed “that we are not suited to one another”, he demanded acidly, ‘and what inconvenience could we possibly have put Lily and Martin to, or anyone outside of our immediate families?'

‘They could have already gone to some expense to buy us a wedding present and new outfits for the occasion.'

‘Like my mother.'

‘Please, Sam, we are talking about cancelling our wedding, not your mother.' She lowered her voice as the opening bars of ‘Heartbreak Hotel' filled the café – yet again. ‘Doesn't anyone in Swansea want to hear any other damned record?'

‘Guilty conscience troubling you, Judy?'

For the first time she noticed a pile of shillings next to his cup.

‘Sixpence a play or three for a shilling. You know me, I always go for a bargain.'

‘You –'

‘I had to do something to pass the time while I waited.'

She made a supreme effort to control herself and swallowed the word she'd been about to fling at him. ‘Agreeing that we are not suited to one another sounds better than we had an almighty row,' she said, steering the conversation resolutely back on track.

‘Or the truth, that you threw a childish temper tantrum and created the most appalling scene in front of my mother's friend Mrs Richards and –'

‘Mrs Richards?' She looked at him blankly.

‘The dressmaker,' he explained tersely, ‘not to mention all my cousins who were far too young to have been subjected to the sight of you calling their aunt a lot of ugly names. As your future mother-in-law, my mother should have been accorded your respect –'

‘Sam,' she interceded wearily, ‘I quarrelled with your mother and made a mess of our engagement, but I'm trying to break it off in a way that will leave both of us a little dignity.'

‘Don't bother. Everyone will soon know exactly what you are when you start going out with Brian Powell.'

‘Whom you thumped.'

‘He had it coming to him. And don't try feeding me that old story about there being nothing between you. When I challenged him, he didn't even bother to deny it.'

‘There wasn't anything between us before you hit Brian, Sam, but there is now, and for that, I thank you.'

Brian slipped his arm around Judy's shoulders as he sat alongside her in the booth. ‘I would have been here half an hour ago, snookems, if you'd told me where you two were meeting. You have no idea how many cafés there are in Swansea. I thought I knew the town and I was amazed.' He waved to the waitress and called her over to their table. ‘Two coffees here, please, love.' He noticed Sam's empty cup. ‘Would you like one as well, Sam? My shout of course.'

‘Want some company on the drive?' Jack enquired, as Martin, freshly bathed and shaved, ran down the stairs carrying a small suitcase.

‘So you can see this woman who is having your baby?' Martin questioned suspiciously.

‘They wouldn't let me see her. Visiting is only allowed on Sundays and the last time I spoke to her, she warned me that she was going to tell the matron that she didn't want to see me again.'

‘So, what will you do when I go into the house to see Lily?' Martin shrugged on his jacket and picked up his keys.

‘Sit in the car and read a book.' Jack held up an Agatha Christie he'd borrowed from the library. ‘I'm at a loose end and I thought, seeing as Brian is out, we could stop off for fish and chips on the way home to save us the bother of cooking.'

‘As long as it is just company you want.' Martin picked up a bulging carrier bag topped by an enormous bunch of flowers that stood next to the front door.

‘If you'd rather be alone …'

‘As it happens, I wouldn't.' Martin checked the front door was securely locked after Jack had followed him out.

‘Sure you have enough flowers?' Jack teased.

Martin stowed the case and bag in the boot of his car. ‘The flowers are from Katie, Joy, Judy and Helen. They packed a whole lot of other things they said Lily would need in the bag as well. Books, chocolates, magazines and fruit, and Katie assured me she only packed the absolute essentials in the case.'

‘I know women and their absolute essentials. You should have seen what they made me cart into Swansea hospital for Helen …' Jack's voice trailed into silence. He climbed into the front passenger seat of Martin's car.

‘This must bring back a lot of memories you'd rather forget.' Martin started the car and drove around the corner on to the main road.

‘It's bloody rotten luck this happening to both our wives.' Jack swore savagely.

‘It hasn't happened to Lily yet,' Martin bit back.

‘I'm sorry, Marty. I hope everything works out for you and Lily, and you have a beautiful bouncing boy like Katie's in – how many months?'

‘Another five, give or take a couple of weeks, and I'm not sure how I'm going to get through them. The doctor warned me that Lily will have to take things easy and stay in bed for most of the time.'

‘It will be worth it if you have a baby.'

‘It will, if Lily and the baby are both healthy at the end of it.' Martin ran his hand through his hair. ‘I've been such a bloody fool, Jack. Going around like a bear with two sore heads, growling at everyone because I wanted to take Brian up on his offer of a partnership but didn't think it right to use Lily's money to do it. And all the time too blind to see that she was pregnant and too afraid to tell me.'

‘I wouldn't say afraid. Knowing Lily she probably didn't want to worry you.'

‘If you can't confide in your husband or wife, who can you talk to?'

‘Your brother?' Jack suggested.

‘That's fine for me.' Martin looked gratefully across at Jack. ‘But Lily doesn't have one.'

‘She talks to the girls,' Jack consoled. ‘There isn't much that Judy, Katie, Helen and Lily don't tell one another.'

‘Lily didn't tell any of them that she was pregnant.'

‘Probably because she wanted to tell you first.'

‘Only I wasn't in a mood to listen.'

‘But you will be from now on,' Jack countered staunchly. ‘You can't go round for the rest of your life feeling guilty because you made one mistake in over two years of happy marriage.'

‘Like you don't feel guilty.'

Jack lit two cigarettes and passed Martin one. ‘It's the Clay curse. The men in the family are destined to learn their lessons the hard way. I didn't tell Helen about Maggie until she wrote to say that she was having my baby. If I had, maybe things would be different between Helen and me now.'

‘And maybe they wouldn't,' Martin counselled. ‘Can you imagine turning up after two and half years National Service and telling Helen that you'd slept with another woman? She'd have thrown you out of the house before you had time to drop your suitcase on the doormat.'

‘So, she did it two weeks later.'

‘You said they were good weeks,' Martin reminded.

‘Which makes me all the more miserable now, because I know what I'm missing.' Jack opened the ashtray set in the dashboard and flicked the ash from his cigarette into it. ‘Would you tell Lily if you slept with another woman?'

‘I haven't slept with any other women.'

‘I don't mean just since you married.'

‘Neither do I.'

Jack whistled in amazement. ‘But you were in the army, you were abroad …'

‘The first thing I learned in the army is there is a lot of talk and very little action between conscripted military personnel and people of the female persuasion.'

‘But say you slipped up now,' Jack persisted. ‘Would you tell her?'

‘I hope I'd have more sense than to “slip up” as you put it. But in answer to your question, no, I don't think I would, because I know it would hurt her.'

‘I'm seeing Helen on Sunday morning,' Jack divulged suddenly.

‘She got in touch with you?'

‘I telephoned her in the warehouse yesterday.'

‘And she was prepared to talk to you?'

‘Just about.'

‘Then there is a chance of you two getting back together,' Martin said eagerly.

‘I don't think so.'

‘There won't be if you insist on trying to adopt Maggie's baby. Or have you come to your senses and given up on that idea?'