Past Remembering (28 page)

Read Past Remembering Online

Authors: Catrin Collier

BOOK: Past Remembering
5.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘There’s plenty more. You’ve eaten hardly any meat.’ She picked up a forkful and tried to put it on his plate.

‘I couldn’t.’

‘I hope you’ve left room for dessert.’

‘You’ve got to be joking.’

‘It’s fresh trifle. Made with tinned peaches, real egg custard and real cream.’

‘I didn’t think it was possible to make a trifle in wartime.’

‘George Collins was feeling in a generous mood, so I took advantage.’

‘I’ll help you clear the dishes. By the time we’ve washed up I may have room for some.’

‘Men don’t wash up.’

‘Try telling that to my sisters. Come on, the sooner we start the sooner we’ll finish.’ And the sooner I can go, he thought to himself as he picked up his plate.

Chapter Fifteen

‘Did Ronnie tell you that he called into the shop to see me yesterday?’ Alma asked Diana as they sat on the mountain with Phyllis, Megan and Jane, watching Evan play football with Brian.

‘He mentioned that he wanted to talk to you about supplying the cafés.’

‘I thought you were working flat out,’ Megan commented.

‘I am, but I’ve been thinking of expansion for some time. Ronnie said the High Street café isn’t doing so well. He could keep on the tea, coffee and snacks side which are all prepared up front, and turn the kitchen over to us if we can find someone to run it.’

‘Like?’

‘Ronnie would do it, but as his leg is almost healed he hopes to go into munitions in the next week or two. He suggested you might take it on, Diana.’

‘He didn’t say anything about it to me today.’

‘It was only a suggestion, nothing’s definite yet. I said I’d talk to you.’

‘I’ve already got the shops and Billy.’

‘The shops don’t take up much time now you’ve got a girl in each of them, and I can look after Billy,’ Megan broke in. ‘I think it’s a good idea. The more you expand now, the more there’ll be for the boys to come home to at the end of the war,’ she enthused, thinking of William and hoping to see him as a fully-fledged partner in one of Charlie and Wyn’s shops.

‘How would Charlie take to going into partnership with Ronnie as well as Wyn?’ Diana reached out to catch the ball that Brian had kicked, before it hit the pram Billy and Anne were sleeping in.

‘He left the business in my hands. If it gives us another kitchen to work out of, I can’t see him objecting, can you?’

‘Not when he’s away and unable to make decisions himself,’ Jane chipped in brightly. ‘It seems to me that with the men gone we’ve just got to get on and make the best of our lives. We could waste years just sitting around waiting for them to come back.’

‘Any more?’ Ronnie asked as he plunged his arms to the elbows in soapy water and felt around the bottom of the sink for stray knives and forks.

‘You’re a glutton for punishment.’ Jenny wiped the last saucepan and stacked it on a shelf.

‘I like things neat and tidy.’

‘So I see. Tea with your trifle?’

He glanced at the magnificent bowl laid out in solitary splendour on the marble cooling slab in the pantry. Jenny had even found a sprinkling of coconut to dust the cream whirls that decorated the top. ‘It looks too good to eat.’

‘Does it now?’ She brushed against him as she walked past and untied the apron from her waist. ‘Damn!’

‘Something the matter?’

‘The bow’s knotted.’

‘Here, turn around, and I’ll have a go.’ As he fiddled with the ribbons, she backed into him.

‘Give me some room, woman.’

‘You’re the first man who’s ever asked me to do that.’ She slipped off her shoe and ran her foot up the inside of his leg.

‘Don’t, I’m likely to fall over. I’ve only got one good leg, remember.’

She turned around to face him. ‘Then it might be an idea to rest it. My bedroom’s next door.’

He took a deep breath as he realised this was why he’d been wary of accepting her invitation. Even through all the table-talk about being brother and sister-in-law, the signals had been there. He’d just been too out of touch with courting practice, and too stupid to pick up on them. He debated whether to remind her he was Italian, and they liked sweet, modest girls who allowed them to do the chasing, but he had a feeling that under the circumstances she might not appreciate the joke, so he settled for a mild, ‘I’m not at all sure that’s a good idea.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’d rather remain friends.’ He gave her the standard cliché as he succeeded in pulling the ribbons apart. After handing her the apron, he removed the tea towel he’d tucked into the waistband of his trousers before he’d washed the dishes.

‘What would be the harm in it? It’s not as though we’d be hurting anyone. I’m lonely, you’re lonely …’

‘And not at all eager to get my face rearranged by Alexander Forbes. The man has muscles. I can’t compete with a miner in my present state of ill-health.’

‘I told you, Alexander is only a friend.’

‘And what would I be?’

‘A lover,’ she whispered seductively, ‘and a strong one at that.’ She locked her arms around his neck. ‘Rumour has it, you put your brother in his place.’

‘Only because he was drunk. If he’d been sober I wouldn’t have stood a chance.’

‘You expect me to believe that?’ She ran her fingers over the front panel of his trousers. A touch that had always aroused Eddie and never failed to excite Alexander. ‘You can’t tell me you don’t miss married life?’

He reached down and caught her hands in his. ‘It wouldn’t work Jenny. You’d be thinking of Eddie and …’

‘I can’t spend the rest of my life thinking about the dead, and neither can you.’

‘Isn’t that what we’re doing now?’

‘No. When I said lover, I meant just that. A lover. I wouldn’t want anything more. Not a husband, not a fiancé, just a man I could make love to without worrying about ties, or emotion. Someone who would call in now and again for a good time. You do want a good time don’t you, Ronnie?’ She stepped away from him and unbuttoned the imitation pearls at the neck of her dress. He watched, mesmerised, as her hand travelled down the line to her waist. Pushing the frock over her shoulders, she allowed it to slide to the floor.

The breath caught in Ronnie’s throat. The only time he’d seen underwear like hers before was on pin-ups in men-only magazines. Her silk stockings were fastened by blue-ribboned garters, her lace-trimmed, silk camisole and French knickers were so fine they were almost transparent. Reaching out, she unfastened the collar studs on his shirt. When she’d succeeded in loosening them, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

Despite his earlier protests, his hands seemed to develop a will of their own. Encircling her waist, he pulled her to him as he returned her kiss. Beneath the thin layer of silk her body was firm, yet soft. Her perfume no longer heavy and oppressive but sensual, intoxicating.

She caught at his hand. Walking backwards she led him out of the kitchen on to the landing, pulling him towards her bedroom.

‘It’s all right,’ she reassured him as he hesitated on the threshold. ‘It overlooks the back, no one will see.’

The whole scene had taken on the surreal atmosphere of a dream. The porcelain quality of her beauty, the provocative lingerie, her offer of sexual favours was the substance of male fantasy not reality. As he struggled to regain his senses he forced himself to remember the crude lath and plaster walls, and rough, clumsy furniture of the attic bedroom he and Maud had shared in his grandfather’s farmhouse.

He felt her fingers tugging at his fly and said the first thing that came into his head. ‘Mrs Evans has her binoculars trained on the front of the house.’

‘She’ll think we took a long time to do the washing up.’

‘Jenny, I like you …’

‘That’s all I want.’

He hadn’t been a saint before his marriage, but lovemaking with Maud had been so very different from the meaningless acrobatics he had indulged in with various girlfriends before she had come into his life, that what they had shared had spoiled him for anything less. And then there was Diana. He had kissed her only a few hours ago. A sweet, gentle, tender kiss that for all its disastrous consequences, still meant more to him than these cold-blooded advances.

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.’ He moved back, disentangling his hand from Jenny’s. ‘I’m really sorry. It’s nothing to do with you, it’s me.’

‘Why? I’ve told you I don’t want anything more from you.’

‘The problem is, I might.’ He returned to the kitchen, checked his fly, pulled down his shirt-sleeves, buttoned his collar and reached for his jacket. She walked in behind him, blocking the doorway.

‘All you men are the same. You’re supposed to be the “love them and leave them” sex but when it comes down to it you can’t wait to fasten a ball and chain around a woman’s ankle. Every man I meet wants to put a ring on my finger to show the world he owns me.’

‘Like Alexander?’

‘Yes, damn you! Like Alexander.’ She picked up her dress from the floor. He turned to help her with the buttons. ‘And stop being so bloody nice.’

‘Thank you for allowing me to catch a glimpse of the new emancipated woman who can swear as well as any man.’ He smiled, hoping to diffuse the situation with humour.

‘Don’t you dare patronise me.’

‘I’m sorry, Jenny.’

‘And stop apologising. I’ve shocked you. Go on say it. You think I’m a slut? It’s all right for a man to chase a woman and drag her into bed, but not for a woman to do it to a man.’

‘I’m all for equality between the sexes, just too old and tired for affairs. Marriage gave me a taste for domesticity.’

‘If I was a man I might agree with you. It must be convenient and comforting to have a wife slaving away for you in the background.’

‘I was happy once,’ he murmured, refusing to be riled. ‘I’d like to think I could be again.’

‘Be honest, all you want is someone to cook your meals, wash your socks, and drudge for you.’

‘If I wanted that, I’d get a servant. Sorry, Jenny.’ He fastened the last button at the neck of her dress, bent his head and kissed her cheek. ‘I really am. Thanks for the meal.’

‘I wish I could say we’d do it again.’

‘So do I. You’re quite a girl. I hope you find what you’re looking for.’ He slipped past her, knocking his leg painfully on the door frame as he picked up the crutch he’d left outside the kitchen.

She watched as he limped awkwardly down the stairs. The shop bell rang as he unlocked and opened the door. It closed and she was left alone with the silence.

She went into her bedroom and sat on the bed. Tears of rage and frustration scorched, hot and humiliating on her cheeks as she snatched a pillow and flung it at the door. How dare he reject her! How dare he! Wasn’t she prettier than most girls? She’d show him! She’d sleep with Alexander and every eligible bachelor in town. Make Ronnie Ronconi and all the Victorian-minded men in Pontypridd realise that the new age was here to stay. That women could work like men, earn the same money as men, and behave like men if they chose to. That the days when girls sat at home learning to cook, clean and sew until boys came courting were finally over. That they no longer had to flutter their eyelids in gratitude and delight at the prospect of a ring, as restricting and binding as any slave chain.

And she’d begin today. By sleeping with Alex. And tomorrow? She’d look around the factory. She’d find someone to sleep with tomorrow. And then both Ronnie Ronconi and Alexander Forbes could look out.

‘No.’

‘Wyn …’

‘Absolutely not, Diana, and that’s final.’ Wyn’s voice echoed down the stairs into the front parlour where Megan was settling his father for the night.

‘That’s the first time I’ve heard those two behave like a normal married couple.’ Mr Rees rubbed his hands gleefully as Megan stirred his nightcap of cocoa with just a touch of brandy.

‘Perhaps they’ve had their rows in the shops before now, out of our earshot,’ Megan said calmly as she set the cup on the table next to his bed.

‘What’s it about?’

‘I’ve absolutely no idea.’

‘She hasn’t got another man, has she?’ the old man squinted sideways.

‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.’

‘Mothers always stick up for their daughters.’

‘And fathers should stick up for their sons. If there’s nothing else, I’ll go and listen to the radio. Goodnight, Mr Rees.’ She left the room, closed the door and climbed the stairs. The bathroom door was open, which meant Wyn and Diana had finished preparing Billy for bed, but their bedroom door was closed.

‘Diana?’ she called softly.

‘What is it, Mam?’ Diana opened the door, looking as cool and unflustered as usual.

‘Once you’ve got Billy down, I’d be happy to babysit if you and Wyn want to go out for an hour.’

‘Billy’s almost sleeping. I’ll have a word with Wyn.’

Diana saw her mother’s frown. ‘It’s not a serious quarrel, Mam,’ she reassured her.

‘Every young couple should have their own space. I wish you and Wyn did.’

‘See you in a minute.’ Diana closed the door and looked at her husband. He was standing next to the cot nursing Billy in his arms.

‘Did you hear that?’

‘I had no idea I was shouting so loud.’

‘And I had no idea you could be so stubborn.’

‘I just don’t think it’s a good idea.’

‘But it is. Taking Ronnie into our partnership with Alma could double our turnover.’

‘You don’t know that for certain.’

‘It will, if Alma can get the stock. She’s keen on the idea, and building up the business will give her something to do while Charlie’s away, and keep me out of mischief while you’re in the factory.’

‘You have enough to do with Billy.’ He laid him in the cot, tenderly stroked the down on his head and pulled the blanket over his tiny shoulders.

‘No I don’t. Mam looks after him better than I do.’

‘Can’t you find anyone other than Ronnie?’

‘Who?’

‘I don’t know. Someone – anyone?’

‘Everyone’s working in the pits or munitions these days. Ronnie’s got the kitchen, the business know-how and the drive. He proved that when he built those cafés up from practically nothing.’

‘I thought his father did that.’

‘His father opened the High Street café. He wouldn’t have even thought of expanding if Ronnie hadn’t pushed him into buying the other two places, and look at them now. They’re more successful than the original café.’

‘Have you thought what will happen after the war when Tony comes home and wants to work in a business we own a third of?’

‘We’re talking about Ronnie, not Tony. And we’re only taking over the kitchen in one of the cafés. If we can increase production it might be nice to open three new shops, one each. That way we can divide them up, and end the partnership whenever we want to.’

‘You’ve got a lot to learn about business, Diana. Things are never that simple. If you, Alma and Ronnie do succeed in opening three new shops they’re not going to have the same turnover. Then you’ll be arguing over who gets the best one after the war.’

Other books

Out of Whack by Jeff Strand
Zombie Mage by Drake, Jonathan J.
Bloodchild by Andrew Neiderman
Forged in Blood I by Buroker, Lindsay
Twisted Triangle by Caitlin Rother
Death with Interruptions by Jose Saramago
Whisker of Evil by Rita Mae Brown
A Pregnancy Scandal by Kat Cantrell
Morning Light by Catherine Anderson