Past Remembering (37 page)

She beckoned him into the kitchen. ‘Diana hasn’t come home. I thought she’d be with you.’

‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘What time did she leave?’

‘Four o’clock this afternoon. She was going up to Evan’s. Didn’t you see her at the theatre shop?’

‘I didn’t go to the shop tonight.’ He hoped she wouldn’t ask him where he’d been.

‘The theatre would have closed an hour ago. Even if she’d been held up or stopped to talk, she should have been home by eleven. You don’t think something could have happened to her?’

‘Like Alexander falling off another roof, or Ronnie’s leg getting worse?’

‘I’m sorry, I know I’m foolish to worry. It’s just that …’

‘She’s been walking around town with a night’s takings from the shop in her handbag. You’ve every right to be concerned.’ He bent down to lace on his shoes.

‘You can’t go out now, you have to be in work in a couple of hours.’

‘Someone has to find her.’

‘What’s going on?’ Wyn’s father tottered unsteadily out of the parlour into the hall.

‘Nothing,’ Wyn said sharply. ‘Go back to bed.’

‘That wife of yours run off,’ he gloated in a grating voice.

‘Diana hasn’t run off anywhere with anyone,’ he snapped. ‘I’ll be back shortly.’ He walked briskly down the passage, slamming the door behind him.

Chapter Twenty

Diana’s footfalls echoed loudly; resounding into the darkness as she tore through the deserted streets of the town. Frantic to reach home, she missed the entrance to Market Square. Too agitated to retrace her steps, she carried on running down to the Penuel Lane turn to Gelliwastad Road. Turning the corner by Penuel chapel, she stopped, stunned by a sight she hadn’t seen in over two years. Ahead of her the Gothic fountain gleamed white and ghostly, shimmering in a pool of bright light that spilled out of the window above Alma’s shop. As she drew closer she heard a hammering. Her Uncle Huw was banging on the shop door.

‘You seen Alma tonight?’ he asked, as though it wasn’t in any way remarkable for her to be in Taff Street in the middle of the night.

‘No, but it’s not like her to ignore the blackout.’

‘I know, and she’s not answering. If I don’t break a window one of the ARP’s wardens soon will. It’s a wonder they’re not already here.’

‘Smash one of the panes in the kitchen door,’ she suggested. ‘They’re small squares, easier to board over and replace.’

‘Good idea. You wait here. If something’s wrong I may need you.’ He went around the back. Seconds later she heard the breaking of glass and his slow steady tread as he moved through the shop. A torch flashed briefly as he wrestled with the bolts on the front door. As soon as he opened it, Diana ran past him and up the stairs.

Alma was sitting in her darkened bedroom holding one of Charlie’s thick, woollen jumpers to her chest. Diana called her name, she looked up, and Diana froze as Alma’s eyes, cold, dead, looked straight through her.

‘You haven’t drawn the blackout in the living room and you’ve left a light burning.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Alma’s voice was faint, remote. ‘I’ve only just left there. I must have turned it on instead of off’

Diana walked to the window, pulled the blind and switched on the lamp next to the bed.

‘Is something wrong?’

‘I have this pain. It keeps coming and going.’ Alma uncurled her fingers and Diana saw the yellow telegram in her hand.

‘I’ve turned off the light in the living room and pulled the blackout.’ Huw read the situation before Diana, but he was more accustomed to dealing with tragedy and grief. Pushing his big clumsy hand into his pocket he pulled out a clean, inexpertly ironed handkerchief and handed it to Alma.

‘Is it Charlie?’ Diana asked.

‘Missing.’

Diana had to bend her head to catch what Alma was saying.

‘That means there’s still hope, love,’ Huw said awkwardly.

Alma’s face contorted in pain.

‘You really are in trouble.’ Diana lifted Alma’s feet and laid her back on the bedcover.

‘I’m afraid it’s the baby.’

‘You’re pregnant?’

‘Five months.’

‘Does anyone know?’

‘I wanted Charlie to be the first.’ She stuffed a corner of the pillow into her mouth to stop herself from crying out.

‘I’ll go to the station and telephone Bethan.’

Diana laid her hand on Alma’s forehead. ‘Please hurry, Uncle Huw.’

‘Just as quick as I can, love.’

Wyn passed Ronnie in Market Square. He doubled back, addressing him by his name to make certain it was him, before grabbing his arm.

‘You seen Diana?’

‘She left my house about twenty minutes ago. I followed her, because I didn’t want her going through town alone at this time of night.’

‘I must have missed her in the blackout.’ Wyn relaxed his hold as he peered into the gloom. ‘What was she doing in your house so late?’

‘We fell asleep.’

‘In your bed?’

‘I’m sorry you were worried,’ Ronnie apologised, grateful for the shadows that shrouded both their faces, ‘but I’m not sorry for falling in love with …’ he choked on the rest of the sentence as Wyn knocked him flat on his back. He lifted his hands to protect his head as his shoulderblade cracked painfully on the cobblestones. As he struggled to rise, his fingers curled instinctively into fists.

‘Get up and fight, you bastard so I can kill you, right here and now. You’ll be worth swinging for.’

Ronnie relaxed his hands as he realised he couldn’t punch Wyn, not even in self-defence. He’d taken too much from him already.

‘And how happy do you think killing me will make you, or Diana?’

The calm mention of Diana’s name confirmed Wyn’s worst suspicions. He turned his back as Ronnie scrambled up from the ground.

‘She must have walked up Penuel Lane way, for me to miss her,’ he mumbled. ‘I’d better go and see.’

‘She should be home by now,’ Ronnie agreed. ‘Do you mind if I walk with you to check she’s all right?’

‘Yes, damn you! She’s my wife. I’ve been looking after her for the past year and I think I can be trusted to carry on doing so.’

‘Of course. But …’

Wyn caught hold of his shoulder and pushed his face very close to Ronnie’s. ‘I may have to accept what’s happened between you, but I don’t have to like it. And I warn you now, you ever hurt her the way your brother or that bastard Ben Springer did, and I
will
kill you. And that’s not an idle threat.’

‘I know. I heard what happened to Springer.’

‘I made sure he’ll never do what he did to Diana to another girl.’

‘There’s a difference between me and them, Wyn. I love her. And I’ll do anything in my power to make her happy.’

‘Including leaving her alone?’

‘No.’

‘She’ll never leave me.’

‘She will if you ask her to.’

‘I’ll see you in hell before I do that.’ Wyn turned on his heel.

‘Do you think she’s happy now?’ Ronnie called after him. ‘As happy as I could make her?’

‘Uncle Huw’s right, Alma: missing doesn’t mean dead. No more than killed in action does.’ Diana wrung a damp cloth and laid it on Alma’s forehead. The pains were coming alarmingly close together, and she was gabbling, saying anything – everything she could think of – to take both her and Alma’s minds off what was happening. ‘Look at the telegram Mam got after Dunkirk telling us that William was dead, and he turned up just fine …’

‘I’m going to lose Charlie’s baby, aren’t I?’ Alma stared at her, and Diana wished that she would cry, break down, anything other than suffer in this wretched, dry-eyed misery.

‘Not if Bethan and I have anything to do with it.’

‘I want him so much. Now more than ever. No one really understands about Charlie -’ She doubled up as another pain took hold.

‘That Charlie isn’t an ordinary soldier? We all know that. Would you like some tea … no … I’d better not give you anything. Oh why doesn’t Bethan come?’

‘I’m here.’ Bethan walked in and dropped her bag on the floor. She went to the bed, laid her hand on Alma’s stomach and pulled out her watch to time the contractions.

‘I want this baby.’

‘I know, and I’ll do all I can to make sure you keep it.’ She looked to Diana. ‘Tea, strong with plenty of sugar.’

Huw was already in Alma’s kitchen, boiling a kettle. ‘Wyn was in the station looking for you. They were about to send out a search party. I told him where you were and that I’d bring you home as soon as you weren’t needed.’

‘Thanks, Uncle Huw.’

‘It’s none of my business, but -’

‘That’s right,’ she said quickly. ‘It is none of your business.’

‘I saw Wyn standing on the old bridge tonight. He was looking down into the water. He said he was thinking.’

Always anxious to play down a potential drama, Diana knew her uncle wouldn’t have mentioned seeing Wyn if he didn’t think it was important. ‘You talked to him?’

‘For a while. He’s not happy, Diana.’

‘I know.’

‘He’s a strong man, a good man. He’s put up with a lot over the years.’

‘What are you trying to tell me?’

‘Like most men he’s too proud to ask for help when he needs it. Take care of him, love, because if you don’t I could be knocking on your door one night.’

‘I’ll look after him.’

‘I knew you would. Now, how many sugars do I put in Alma’s tea?’

‘The contractions have stopped and the baby’s heart is beating strongly. You’re a lucky lady, but you really should have gone to the doctor’s months ago.’ Bethan pulled the bedclothes to Alma’s chin and tucked her in.

‘I know. I’m sorry. I feel awful.’

‘That’s the drug I’ve given you: if you don’t fight it, you’ll soon be asleep.’

‘You’ll stay?’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Alma raised her hand and handed Bethan the telegram.

She lifted it to the lamp. The word missing stared up at her in thick, black letters.

‘It’s missing presumed dead.’ Alma tightened her grip on Charlie’s sweater.

‘They’ve been wrong before.’ Bethan refused to believe that Charlie – big blond, larger than life Charlie – could be dead. First Eddie, then Maud… not Charlie …

‘I have to see his commanding officer.’

‘He won’t know any more than what’s in the telegram.’

‘I have to go.’

‘You’re not going anywhere until you’re well again. And then it would be better to write first. If you turn up at Charlie’s home base without an appointment, you probably won’t even be seen.’

Alma turned a white anguished face to Bethan’s. ‘You don’t understand. He might not be dead.’

‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.’

‘But he still won’t be coming back.’ All Alma could think of was the conversation she’d had with Charlie on his last leave:
If by some miracle I do find Masha, I think that after twelve years, she, like me, will have a new life.

Her own voice echoed back from that other, happier time:
And if there’s room in it for you?

How do you expect me to answer that? I don’t know what Masha and I will think of each other after twelve years. Yesterday you felt like a stranger after only a year’s separation.

Perhaps he had found Masha and she hadn’t felt like a stranger. She hoped so. She would still lose him, but far better to another woman than to the war.

‘You haven’t left Alma alone?’ Wyn lifted the boiling kettle from the hob as Diana walked into the kitchen a little after half-past three in the morning.

‘Uncle Huw sent for Bethan. She’s staying with her. Alma’s pregnant.’

‘I didn’t know.’

‘None of us did until tonight. She went into premature labour after she got a telegram telling her that Charlie was missing. Bethan’s hoping it’s just the shock and things will quieten down. Alma desperately wants the baby. Now more than ever.’ She looked at the clock. ‘You don’t have to leave for the station for another half hour. Would you like some breakfast?’

‘I was just about to make tea. Want me to pour you a cup?’

‘Please. I’m exhausted. But then you must be too. How much sleep have you had?’

‘Not a lot.’

‘Do you realise this is the first time we’ve had breakfast together since you went into munitions?’

‘It feels more like supper to me.’

‘Want some porridge or toast?’ she asked as he tipped shaving water into his mug and stood it on the mantelpiece.

‘Toast would be good, thanks.’

‘I don’t know what Uncle Huw told you, but I wasn’t with Alma all evening.’

‘I know. I met Ronnie in Market Square.’ He tried, unsuccessfully, to hide the bruises on his knuckles.

‘You hit him?’

‘I didn’t go looking for him,’ he asserted defensively. ‘I wanted to make sure you were all right. I came in around midnight, you weren’t here, your mother was worried, so I went out again hoping to find you. I ran into Ronnie instead.’

‘I’m sorry, Wyn.’

‘I’ve been expecting it. Are you going to take Billy and leave?’

‘No.’

‘He told me he loved you.’

‘I married you. I made some vows; I don’t want to break them any more than I already have.’

‘Erik’s leaving town tomorrow. He’s been transferred to another factory.’

‘Close by?’

‘North Wales. I won’t be seeing him again.’

‘I’m sorry, Wyn.’

‘It’s a mess all round, isn’t it?’ He stared into the mirror as he wet his brush and lathered his face with shaving soap. ‘Sometimes I think it would be a lot easier if I was able to join up and never come back, like Eddie.’

‘Don’t ever say that. I couldn’t bear to lose you.’

‘You wouldn’t lose me, because we’ve never really belonged to one another, Diana. We just pretended, and hoped everything would work out. That’s a terrible basis for a marriage.’

A claw of cold fear knotted in her stomach as she remembered her uncle’s warning. ‘Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?’

‘Like what?’

She couldn’t even say the word. ‘Eddie left such a mess behind him. Look at what’s happened to Jenny if you don’t believe me. And if you need any more proof, you should see Alma. She’s distraught.’

‘You really want us to soldier on?’

‘We’re lucky, we have Billy. I’ve always known we were fortunate to have him, but seeing Alma fight to keep her baby tonight made me extra grateful for him … and you.’

‘I suppose we get on most of the time and we like one another.’ There was an odd, detached tone in his voice that terrified her.

‘It’s more than most married couples.’

‘But it’s not enough for you, is it?’

‘It will be from now on.’

‘Ronnie told me tonight that he won’t give up seeing you.’

‘I’d already decided, and told him, that tonight was the first and last night we’d spend together,’ she said, stretching the truth.

‘You don’t have to on my account.’

‘But I want to. I’m not cut out for sneaking, hole-in-the-corner affairs. I’m hopeless at lying.’

He ran the razor over his chin and rinsed it in the mug. ‘Whatever you do, Diana, it still won’t work between us.’

‘Please, Wyn. We have to try.’

He looked at her reflection in the mirror. ‘You’re sure that’s what you want?’

‘I’m sure,’ she answered resolutely.

‘Diana said you’ve had post. Have you heard from Charlie’s commanding officer?’ Bethan asked Alma as she walked into her bedroom.

‘Nothing since the letter saying they would let me know if they heard anything more. It’s been two weeks since I had the telegram. You’d think they would know something by now.’

‘I suppose it depends how and where he disappeared.’