Swansea Summer (37 page)

‘I’ve half a mind to wake him.’

‘Please don’t,’ Lily pleaded, ‘he’s only just gone to bed.’

‘So you do have the grace to be afraid …’

‘I’m afraid for his health. Working afternoons can make him overtired and he only went to bed a short time ago.’

‘Then we’ll see what he thinks about this in the morning.’ She stood, looking at them. ‘Well, come on, up you go.’

‘Now! But we’ve just made sandwiches and cocoa,’ Katie protested.

‘You don’t think I’m going to allow you to eat and drink down here with those boys only a floor below.’

‘They’re probably fast asleep.’

‘And two of them are my brothers,’ Katie broke in.

‘I’m not going to put up with your cheek. Up to bed this minute, both of you. And leave the dishes in your bedroom. I’ll clear them tomorrow.’

‘We’ll eat down here,’ Lily snapped, deciding that despite her uncle’s pleas she couldn’t take any more of Mrs Lannon’s carping.

‘Well! If that’s all the gratitude I’m going to get for everything I’ve done for you and your uncle, miss, I’m …’ She stared at Lily. If she was hoping to intimidate her she was disappointed. Lily gazed coolly back. ‘I’ll speak to your uncle in the morning.’ Gathering the remains of her dignity, Mrs Lannon swept out of the kitchen.

Chapter Twenty

‘Judy! Judy!’

As someone shook her roughly by the shoulder, Judy tried opening her eyes but her eyelids were simply too heavy.

‘Judy it’s two o’clock. Your mother is going to be wondering where you are.’

She sat up stiffly. Every inch of her ached as if she’d been trampled on.

‘Your dress is here.’ Adam picked it up from the floor and put it in her hands.

She finally opened her eyes to see Adam, his unfamiliar living room, the wedding portrait of his parents taken a quarter of a century before. ‘Brian,’ she whispered, ‘Brian was here …’

‘He wasn’t,’ Adam interrupted harshly, turning away from her. He hadn’t intended for things to go so far between them but then she had so obviously wanted it to happen – hadn’t she?

‘I thought you were Brian.’ She looked down and saw that she was practically naked and there was dried blood on her thighs.

‘There’s a bathroom in the lean-to. You’d better clean yourself up before you go home.’ His hands shook as he opened a packet of cigarettes.

‘You raped me …’

‘I could accuse you of the same. You were all over me. Even at the dinner dance you couldn’t keep your hands off me. And there’s plenty of witnesses who’ll say just that.’

‘You’re not even my boyfriend.’

‘No, Judy, I’m not.’ He tilted his head defiantly. ‘But I’ve put one over on him. The next time you see him you can tell him that I got my own back for that joke he played on me.’

‘Joke …’ She trembled as the full impact of what had happened hit her. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘That perfume and lipstick you gave him. Those kisses Brian painted on my chest – and other places – on Jack’s stag night.’

‘That wasn’t Brian. Katie gave Jack the lipstick and scent. It was Jack …’

Sick to the pit of his stomach, unable to face the horror-struck expression in her eyes, Adam turned away. ‘You’d better hurry up in the bathroom if you don’t want your mother to worry about you.’

Joe hesitated as he reached the junction of Calvert Terrace and Mansel Street. He felt in his pocket. The keys to the basement were on his keyring because he entered the house that way when he borrowed his father’s car and parked it in the garage at the back of the house. His father had warned him he would have to walk round the block once Jack and Helen moved into the flat but that hadn’t happened and Lily’s bedroom was at the back of the house. Not that he thought she’d be up at that time in the morning but …

Walking purposefully up Verandah Street, he turned down the back lane. Darkness closed around him and he slowed his pace, giving his eyes time to become accustomed to the gloom. Fixing his attention on the ground, he trod carefully and didn’t raise his head until he neared Lily’s house.

He stopped, mesmerised by the sight of her perched on the window seat of her kitchen. She was leaning against one side of the bay, her knees drawn up to her chest. He lingered, taking in every inch of her diminutive, slim figure, imprinting it, and the clothes she was wearing, on his memory. From the way the royal-blue candlewick dressing gown that she’d thrown carelessly over turquoise peddle-pusher pyjamas draped round her, to the tiny bows on the ballet-type slippers she was wearing. Her ankles were crossed and she was holding a blue and white striped breakfast cup, resting it on one knee. Her long dark hair fell to her waist, plaited loosely over one shoulder. If he’d been there he would have loosened it, run his fingers through the thick waves …

He could almost smell the lemon-scented shampoo she used as it mingled with the delicate perfume of her skin cream and her favoured fragrance, Lily of the Valley. Feel the cool, silky texture of her skin beneath his fingertips …

Oblivious to his presence, she continued to gaze out into the night. He caught a glimpse of someone moving in the room behind her but he only had eyes for Lily. Leaning against the garden wall, he fumbled blindly for his cigarettes, pushing one between his lips, too engrossed with her image to look for his lighter. When she finally left the seat and moved too far inside the room for him to see her, he remained staring at the window even after the light was switched off. A flicker of landing light glimmered through a bedroom door on the floor above the kitchen. His heart quickened when a lamp was lit and he realised it was her bedroom. But the curtains were closed.

He imagined her moving around behind them: slipping off the candlewick dressing gown and hanging it on a hook on the back of the door, sitting on the bed and removing her slippers, turning back the bedclothes …

The light went out a full five minutes before he visualised her getting into bed. The back of her house plunged into darkness, yet he remained focused on her bedroom window. He imagined her lying between crisp white linen sheets that smelled of lavender and ironing. Her lustrous black plait curled on the pillow beneath her head, her arm resting outside the blankets, her lips slightly parted as she breathed softly through her mouth …

The sky paled, the birds began to sing and he forced himself from his reverie. Shivering, he walked the few steps to his garden gate. Some day he wouldn’t be exiled to the bottom of her garden, but sharing her bedroom, and neither of them would sleep. They would spend entire nights making love – slowly, tenderly, erotically – and they would confide their hopes, dreams and thoughts. There would be no secrets – not between them. Together they would plan their lives and in the morning they would open the curtains to the sun and begin to live out their dreams.

‘You and Mrs Lannon had another run-in, Lily?’ Roy asked as she ran downstairs.

Lily checked she had everything she needed in her handbag and lifted her jacket from the hall stand. ‘She didn’t waste any time telling you.’

‘She knocked on my door and handed me a letter at six o’clock this morning.’

‘I’m sorry, Uncle Roy.’

‘So am I.’ Tying the belt on his dressing gown, he went into the kitchen. ‘Tea and toast?’

‘Please. All Katie and I were doing was making cocoa and sandwiches because we couldn’t sleep and she accused us of hiding the boys up here.’

‘I don’t think she’s convinced they weren’t here, even now.’ He cut two slices of bread and dropped them on to the grill.

‘It’s absurd.’

‘What’s absurd is me thinking it was going to work out between you and a woman like that. Norah always used to say she was the most narrow-minded creature in the street.’

‘Then why did you ask her to be your housekeeper?’

‘Because beggars can’t be choosers, love, and I couldn’t think of anyone else who’d take the job.’ He spooned tea into the pot. ‘Unfortunately, now we’re back where we started.’

‘She’s given in her notice?’

‘Packed her bags and moved back into her own house at seven o’clock this morning.’

‘Because of what I said to her last night?’

‘Because of what I said to her this morning when she accused you of …’

‘Being a tart.’ She set two cups, saucers and plates on the table.

‘That’s not the word she used. She will gossip about you, love.’

‘No one who cares about me will listen.’ She folded her jacket over the back of a chair. ‘Can Katie and I look after the house now?’

‘You’ll have to until I get someone else. In the meantime Mrs Hunt and Judy are moving in and I’m moving out into Mrs Hunt’s.’ He turned the toast. ‘I telephoned Joy early this morning and she agreed it was the best solution. If you and Katie were to move in with her and Judy it would look as if you’d done something wrong and I was punishing you.’

‘I’m sorry …’

‘So am I but with Mrs Lannon back in her own house next door but one and watching your and Katie’s every move, and the boys living downstairs, it’s as well to have a respectable woman sleeping in the house.’

‘I’m truly sorry. It’s not fair on you or Mrs Hunt.’

‘No, it’s not, but it’s only until we can work out a better solution.’ He smiled. ‘Just don’t keep Joy awake tonight with your picnics. You know how hard she works in that hairdresser’s on Saturdays.’

‘How is Helen?’ John stopped the doctor as he walked down the stairs.

‘Much better this morning.’ The doctor looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Can I have a word, John?’

‘Of course.’ John opened the door to the living room. ‘Can I get you something, tea, coffee?’

‘Nothing, thank you.’ The doctor put his bag on the floor and sat on the sofa. ‘I’ve been thinking about Helen. Have you considered suggesting that she and Jack adopt a child?’

‘No.’ John sat in the chair opposite him. ‘There’s so much red tape involved and she and Jack are young …’

‘She could opt for a private adoption. I could arrange it.’

John looked at the doctor in surprise.

‘We – the partners in the practice, that is – have arranged dozens over the years and all of them have worked extremely well.’

‘How exactly would they go about it?’ John asked cautiously.

‘It’s very simple. We match childless couples to pregnant women who can’t keep their child. I’ll be perfectly honest: most of the mothers are young and unmarried – some under sixteen. Terrified of the disgrace of giving birth to an illegitimate child, they don’t confide in their families or come to us until they can no longer hide their pregnancy. I have three such patients in my care at the moment. If Jack and Helen are prepared to take any baby, I can match them with a prospective mother right away. If they have a preference for a boy or girl it may take a little longer.’

‘You don’t want references or checks?’

‘How long have we known one another, John?’ the doctor asked.

‘More years than I care to remember.’

‘Quite; enough said. There will be a few expenses. We like to house the mothers in a discreet boarding house rather than a Salvation Army hostel and deliver the babies in a private clinic. It ensures privacy for the girls and better health monitoring for both the mother and the baby. You will also need the services of a solicitor. Either one of my partners or myself will become the legal guardian of the child at birth, we will arrange for it to be fostered by Helen as soon as it can leave the clinic, which will pave the way for formal adoption to take place, usually when the child is a couple of months old. In my experience the bills rarely come to more than a hundred pounds, but then’ – he smiled wryly – ‘Helen and Jack will be left with the expense of bringing up the child. Naturally, each party will remain completely anonymous to the other.’

‘What about an arrangement fee?’

‘There is none.’ The doctor rose to his feet.

‘You do this for nothing?’

‘To assuage my conscience. When I was training I spent six months working on a gynaecological ward in Balham. We averaged between ten and twelve deaths a month from backstreet abortions on women desperate enough to risk their health and their lives to rid themselves of a child and that was without all the women who became sterile, or crippled. Twenty years on it’s no better. There’s four women dying in Swansea Hospital right this minute from septicaemia introduced by knitting needles and Omo douches. And women will continue to die until we change the law.’

‘Legalise abortion!’ John was shocked by the thought.

‘You’d rather women continued to die?’ He tipped his hat as he walked to his car. ‘Let me know what Helen and Jack decide.’

‘You look ill …’

‘It’s probably something I ate at the dinner dance last night,’ Judy lied. ‘The chicken tasted funny.’

‘You shouldn’t have eaten it,’ Joy lectured.

‘I didn’t, after the first bite.’ Judy picked up her handbag. ‘I have to get to the shop.’

‘You can’t work if you’re ill,’ Joy admonished.

‘The salon’s only just opened. How many customers do you think I’ll keep if I don’t open on a fully booked Saturday?’

‘You have to eat something,’ Joy shouted as Judy ran down the passage.

‘I’ll grab something on the way.’

Joy sighed as she poured herself a second cup of tea. She had hoped that Judy’s date with Adam would go some way to help her forget Brian, but if anything, Judy looked more miserable than the day he’d left for London.

‘No! No! No!’

Terrified that Helen was about to become hysterical again, Jack lifted the breakfast tray he’d brought up for her from the bed and tried to hold her in an attempt to calm her down but she thrust him away.

‘I lost my baby!’ she screamed at her father. ‘Don’t you understand, I lost
my
baby, a child that would have been
my
son and your grandson. It’s not like I lost a purse or a handbag. You can’t just go out and buy me a replacement …’

‘Your father was only trying to help us, sweetheart.’ Jack fought to keep his own feelings in check lest he add to Helen’s misery.

‘Stop it!’ Helen glared at him. ‘I don’t want the two of you trying to make me feel better. I don’t want to feel better, I want to … I want to …’ As she dissolved into tears, Jack folded his arms round her, pulling her even closer, while she fought to push him away. Finally she laid her head on his shoulder and shuddered in paroxysms of grief as great rasping sobs tore from her throat.

John looked helplessly at Jack. ‘I’m sorry. I only wanted to help …’

‘I know, Mr Griffiths, and thank you for trying.’

Turning aside, John stole from the room and closed the door softly behind him. The only consolation he could draw from the tragedy that had befallen his daughter was the remarkable strength Jack had found to handle it. He just hoped Helen would be able to cope when she found herself alone.

‘Your father meant well, sweetheart.’ Jack wiped the tears from Helen’s eyes and brushed her hair away from her face.

‘I know … it’s just that …’ she faltered as she looked up at him.

‘I’m going away, you need to get your strength back and although somewhere in the future there’ll be the right baby, now is not the perfect time for us to become a family.’

‘You really believe that?’ she asked seriously.

‘That there’ll be the right baby for us one day? Yes.’ Leaning against the headboard, he cradled her in his arms. ‘It wasn’t just you who lost the baby, sweetheart, it was us. And I meant what I said in the hospital: much as I wanted the baby, I want and need you more. I couldn’t live without you.’