Past Remembering (41 page)

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Authors: Catrin Collier

BOOK: Past Remembering
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He thought back to the photograph in the
Mirror,
but he wasn’t in the mood to excuse Jane’s behaviour.

‘You’ve no idea of the strain the women who’ve been left behind are under.’

‘That’s all I’ve been hearing since I’ve got home. Do you think it’s so damned easy at the front?’

‘At least you know what’s going on. We have to rely on censored letters, what little news the War Office deigns to release, and rumour. And believe you me, the rumours fly thick and fast from one end of town to the other. They’ve had every man who’s ever left Pontypridd killed ten times over. And while we’re coping with that, we still have to fight the war here. Contend with severe rationing of just about every essential, bring up children on our own, look after evacuees as well as answering the call for women workers to fill the places of the men.’

‘Jane had no business working. I can support her and the baby and support them a lot better than -’

‘It’s not a question of money or support,’ Bethan said carefully, realising that his anger was bordering on the irrational.

‘Don’t tell me: you women “want to do your bit”,’ he sneered.

‘Without munitions the soldiers can’t fight. If they don’t fight, we’ll end up being invaded like France.’

‘There’s plenty of single girls who can work. Jane has a baby. They wouldn’t have taken her if she hadn’t volunteered. And you can’t tell me she didn’t volunteer to spite me.’

‘We’re all working. Diana’s running Wyn’s businesses and helping Alma out until the baby’s born. And as soon as Alma’s baby is born she’ll go back to work. With Charlie posted missing, she has no option but to provide for her child.’

‘That’s different, Charlie could be dead.’

‘Just as a stray bullet could have got you while you were travelling round the front. Do you think Jane never worried about that happening? For pity’s sake, Haydn, get down off your high horse. Andrew’s in a prison camp, he has enough money to provide for me and the children and he’ll be coming back when all this is over, but that hasn’t stopped me from taking on a full-time job as district nurse and opening my house to evacuees.’

‘That’s different, you’re needed.’

‘So is Jane in munitions.’

‘After farming my baby out?’

‘Megan and Phyllis are looking after my own and Diana’s children as well as yours. That’s their way of fighting this war. You make me mad, turning up here without any warning after nine months away, and expecting to find Jane sitting around waiting for you.’

‘I certainly didn’t expect to find her drunk.’

‘And you never got drunk on tour?’

‘That was different.’

‘Why – because you’re a man? Grow up,’ she snapped irritably as she folded Jane’s dress on to a chair. ‘You said you’ve only got a few days’ leave. If you don’t use the next couple of hours to calm down and get to know your daughter, you’ll mess up whatever’s left of it. I’ve seen enough marriages go to pieces already in this war, without wanting to watch yours disintegrate as well.’

Chapter Twenty-two

‘There’s a letter for you, Wyn.’ Diana handed it to him as he walked through the door.

‘Thank you.’ He looked at it, knowing it was from Erik even before he turned it over.

‘Hungry?’

‘Starving. Where’s Megan and Dad?’

‘She’s helping him shave. Don’t you remember? Tonight’s the night Myrtle’s bringing Uncle Huw to tea. I wonder if he’ll still want me to call him uncle when he’s my brother-in-law?’

‘Have either you or Megan had the courage to tell Dad what he’s in for?’

‘We thought we’d leave it to you men.’

‘Cowards.’

‘That’s us. Do you want a sandwich or can you wait another half-hour?’

‘I can wait.’

‘Is it from Erik?’ she asked as he opened the envelope.

‘Yes.’

‘You must miss him.’

‘Do you miss Ronnie?’ he asked, watching her carefully.

‘I saw him on Saturday at Rachel’s birthday party,’ she said, refusing to meet his steady gaze.

‘Alone?’

‘For a few minutes in the kitchen. I was heating the babies’ bottles.’

‘I don’t need to know every little detail, Diana.’

‘But I need to tell you. I haven’t changed my mind since we talked about him, Wyn. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it.’

‘But being in the same town as Ronnie, and not being able to see him, is quietly killing you?’ he asked, crediting her with what he’d feel if the situation were reversed.

‘Of course not.’

He might have believed her if she’d been able to look him in the eye.

‘I’ll wash and change, then I’ll see if I can help Megan smarten up my father. After all, it’s not every day a daughter gets engaged.’

‘Why can’t I stay alone with you in the same room for more than five minutes without tearing my clothes off?’

‘And mine.’ Jenny snuggled under the bedclothes, wrapping her arms and legs around Alexander so she could siphon some of his warmth into her body.

‘I think I actually prefer winter to summer.’ He clamped his hands over hers to stop her from tugging at the hairs on his chest. ‘We can spend longer together without anyone suspecting a thing, now the nights have drawn in.’

‘I let you into my flat and my bed for the first time in months, and you’re making plans for the entire winter? This puts us right back to where we were when I had to ask you to hand over my key.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to push.’

‘No? You want to own me, body and soul, Alex, and I’m not prepared to give any more than I just have.’

‘It’s enough,’ he assured her swiftly.

‘If it isn’t, you’d better leave now.’

‘You know I don’t want to.’

‘And I don’t want to be plagued by a man who won’t be content until he’s changed my life. I like it exactly the way it is.’

‘I understand. What you’re saying is you’ll see me on your terms, not mine?’

‘You do understand?’

‘That I have to learn to ignore you until such time as you decide you would like to spend an hour or so in my company?’

‘You make it sound as though you are a toy that has to stay in the cupboard until I want to play with you.’

‘Isn’t that exactly how you’re treating me?’

‘No, Alex. I’m trying to put our friendship on an even footing where we both keep our independence and run our own lives without interference from the other. I don’t want to control you, only make the decisions as to how often, where and when we meet. What you have for your dinner, or who you see when you’re not with me, is your own affair.’

‘And if I choose to spend my time with other women?’

‘If you have the energy -’ her hand slipped down between his thighs – ‘go ahead.’

‘And you?’

‘If I have the energy, I’ll look around for another man. But before you start throwing tantrums and playing the jealous lover, I’ll play fair and give you the opportunity to tire me out.’

‘I’m not used to women behaving like this.’

‘Like men behave towards women, you mean?’

He leaned over and picked up his cigarette case from the bedside cabinet. He would have liked to contradict her, but he knew she was right. She was treating him no differently to the way he’d treated his casual girlfriends before he’d met her, and he hated the way it made him feel. Like a vulnerable pawn totally dependent on the whim of a Grand Master.

‘I’m going to have trouble adapting.’ He opened his case.

‘You know where the door is. Perhaps you’d better go now, before we start quarrelling again.’

‘That was a plea for patience and understanding, not a cue for you to throw me out.’

Taking the cigarette case from his hands she closed it and slipped it under the pillow. Caressing his back lightly, her fingers moved downwards, teasingly, tantalisingly to the soft skin on the inside of his thighs. As he tugged the sheets and blankets over both their heads, he realised that although he had lost control for the present, there were compensations.

And even Jenny would want to settle down – eventually. Possibly with him, if he managed to make her fall in love with him.

‘I still think we should have waited until Megan or Diana could have come with us.’ Huw opened the door of his house in Bonvilston Road, and stood back to allow Myrtle to walk in ahead of him.

‘You need a chaperon?’ Wearing Huw’s ring on her finger had given her a confidence she would never have believed herself capable of possessing.

‘It’s your reputation I’m thinking of.’ He helped her off with her coat and hung it together with his own on the old-fashioned, Victorian hallstand that was far too large for the narrow passageway. ‘Kitchen’s straight ahead of you, second door on the right. I did warn you the house is in a bit of a state.’

‘It just needs decorating.’ The warmth of the stove blasted welcomingly towards her as she walked into the room and looked around at the massive, age-stained oak furniture and dingy wallpaper.

‘It needs a woman’s touch. You can do whatever you like. I’ve quite a bit of money put away.’

‘There’s no sense in buying furniture now. There’ll be more choice after the war.’

‘Would you like tea?’

‘I’d like to thank you for my rings,’ she said boldly.

‘You did in the shop.’

‘I meant properly, with a kiss.’

His face turned crimson. He ran his finger around the inside of his collar in a futile attempt to loosen it as she reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on tiptoe and kissed him, hard and inexpertly, on the mouth.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured, her face as scarlet as his when she finally stepped away.

‘Being married is going to take a lot of getting used to.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re nervous too?’ she blurted out.

‘I’ve lived alone for so long with no one to please except myself, I’m afraid I’ve grown selfish and sloppy in my ways. But I don’t understand why you should be worried. You kept house for years for your father and brother.’

‘It’s not housekeeping I’m nervous about.’ She pretended to study a religious picture of Moses parting the Red Sea that hung above the mantelpiece. ‘But of sleeping in the same bed with you.’

‘You don’t have to. There’s three bedrooms upstairs.’

‘I want to.’ She could feel her cheeks burning, but working with girls like Judy had taught her, if not to overcome embarrassment, at least to ignore it. ‘I have a confession to make. I’m very inexperienced about these things. You see, that’s the first time I’ve ever kissed a man. I mean really kissed -’

‘I know what you mean,’ he interrupted.

‘I feel strange. Apprehensive and excited all at once. The women in the factory talk about men and lovemaking all the time, the single girls as well as the married ones. Does that shock you?’

He thought back to some of the things he’d seen and heard the women do in station yard. ‘After more than twenty years on the beat in this town I think I’m shockproof’

‘It’s just that I thought if we could spend some time alone together, getting used to one another, it would make it easier for me on our wedding night.’

‘We could start with another kiss?’ he suggested, putting his arms around her. For all his high-minded opinion of Myrtle, it was as much as he could do to keep his hands clasped around her waist as her lips brushed against his. ‘Time we went to see your father.’

‘Can I come back here with you tomorrow night?’

‘You do, and you might find yourself honeymooning early.’

‘I wouldn’t mind.’

If he’d known what it had cost her to make that remark he might not have been quite so dismissive. ‘But I would.’ He went into the hall to fetch her coat ‘There’s a time and place for everything. I may be old-fashioned, but in my book, bed definitely comes after the wedding service.’

‘I need a hand in the kitchen,’ Megan said as Myrtle and Huw walked into the living room.

‘I’ll help,’ Diana followed her mother.

‘Me too,’ Myrtle offered.

‘Glad to see you’ve finally decided to come home,’ her father grumbled. ‘And before you start on the food, you can make me a cup of tea.’

‘Not before we all sit down, Dad.’

‘That’s all you know! You may as well move out and live in that factory of yours for all the attention you give your own father these days. I haven’t been strong enough to sit at the table for weeks. I’ll have mine on a tray over here.’

‘Then I’ll get your tray ready.’

‘And I’m supposed to talk to myself while you lock yourself up in the kitchen with Megan and Diana?’

‘Here, Mr Rees, I’ll keep you company.’

‘It’s kind of you to spare a sick, old man the time, Constable Davies,’ he griped in a martyred tone. ‘You got everything under control in the town?’

‘We’re trying, Mr Rees.’

‘Not hard enough, judging from all the reports of blackout crime in the
Observer
.’

Wyn retreated to the corner of the room, leaving Huw no option but to take the chair opposite the sofa his father was lying on.

‘I haven’t come here to talk about blackout crime, sir.’

‘No, you’ve come for tea. A bachelor is always looking for a free meal, and your sister’s not a bad cook. I’ll give her that. Better than Myrtle,’ he carped, hoping his daughter was listening.

‘I’ve come to tell you that Myrtle has agreed to be my wife.’ Huw had been practising the announcement all day. At their age, he felt that neither he nor Myrtle needed to ask anyone’s permission, and it was the most tactful way he could think of emphasising that fact to the old man.

It was as much as Wyn could do to keep a straight face. Paralysed by shock, his father stared open-mouthed at Huw.

‘You want to marry Myrtle?’ he spluttered when he eventually found his voice. ‘Whatever for?’

‘Because I love her, she loves me, and we believe we can make one another happy.’

‘That’s ridiculous. You’re both far too old to get married.’

‘There’s an age limit?’ Huw smiled to lessen the sting in his words.

‘What do you think people are going to say? Myrtle’s a spinster. Always has been. The minister’s wife said she was born that way.’

‘So is every woman,’ Huw pointed out wryly.

Silence reigned, so strained, so dense, Wyn could hear his own pulse throbbing below his ear. All three men focused on the door to the kitchen where there was precious little rattling of cutlery and crockery, considering the women were supposed to be preparing tea.

‘We’ve fixed a date four weeks from now. I’m going to see the minister tomorrow. If the chapel can’t accommodate us, it will be a Register Office do.’

‘No daughter of mine is getting married in a Register Office.’

‘It was good enough for your son,’ Huw reminded mildly.

‘Had to be, didn’t it? That was a shotgun job. You should have heard what the minister and his wife had to say about my grandson appearing six months after they tied the knot.’

‘Nothing un-Christian, I hope,’ Huw commented gravely. ‘I’d like to set your mind at rest and tell you that I can provide for Myrtle. She’ll want for nothing, I promise you. I have my own house in Bonvilston Road. It’s not as good as this one, and it needs a bit doing to it, but it’s all mine. There’s no mortgage on it, and I’ve enough put away for Myrtle to do anything she wants, even exchange it for a bigger one elsewhere in the town if that’s what she decides. So, as you can see, we’ve nothing to wait for.’

‘Nothing! What about me?’ the old man demanded petulantly. ‘Who’s going to look after me in my old age if my own daughter abandons me? That’s what I’d like to know!’

‘Me, Mr Rees.’ Megan bustled in with a full tray, which she set on the table. ‘You’ll be pleased to know I made a cake in honour of the occasion.’

‘You knew about this?’

‘Hoped, more than knew. Isn’t it marvellous to have something worth celebrating in these dark days?’

For once the old man was completely at a loss for words.

Haydn was sitting listening to the radio, nursing his grievances and his daughter, who’d grown from a contented baby into a plump contented toddler during the nine months he’d been away, when the kitchen door opened and Jane walked in, pasty-faced and shivering.

‘I saw the suitcase in the bedroom. I had no idea you were coming home.’

‘I wanted to surprise you. I think I succeeded in surprising myself more,’ he replied coldly.

‘It’s bedtime, love,’ Evan nodded to Phyllis.

Phyllis leaped to her feet. ‘You’ll dampen down the stove, Jane?’ she asked as she followed Evan out.

‘I didn’t even know the tour was coming to an end.’ Tightening the belt on her dressing gown, Jane sank down into the chair Evan had vacated.

‘Evidently,’ Haydn said drily.

‘I didn’t mean to drink so much …’

‘But you did.’

‘I was angry.’

He remembered the photographs, but he didn’t ask her to elaborate.

‘How long have you got?’

‘Seventy-two hours, and I’ve lost twelve of those already. It’s all I could wangle, and I doubt there’ll be any Christmas leave this year. We’ve too many shows to get out.’

‘I’ll ask my supervisor if I can have tomorrow afternoon and the day after off’

‘You’re not going into work tomorrow!’

‘I have to.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. The war effort won’t grind to a halt if you’re not there to polish the gun barrels, or whatever it is you do.’

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