The Lost Days of Summer (45 page)

Nell nodded. ‘Yes, I know what you mean, but she’s not a bit like that really. I think it was the shock. When she’s thought it over, she’ll feel differently, I’m sure.’

For the rest of the ride to the Swtan, the girls chatted on a variety of subjects including, slightly to Nell’s surprise, the fact that Bryn had actually asked Maggie to go to the cinema with him. When she had told Bryn, as kindly as she could, that she would not be going out with him again since she and Hywel had discovered they were in love, she had expected him to fly off in a rage and single out one of the many pretty Wrens from HMS
Bee
, more as a gesture of defiance than anything else. Yet he had chosen Maggie; why?

She glanced quickly across at her friend and saw that she was waiting to hear how Nell might greet the news. ‘Are you pleased, Maggie?’ Nell asked bluntly. ‘Bryn’s awfully nice, but . . . well, it’s a bit sudden, wouldn’t you say?’

Maggie laughed. ‘Course it is, and Bryn’s got a very high opinion of himself, that’s what you’re thinkin’, ain’t it? You’re thinkin’ Bryn likes a looker, which I ain’t. But who says I agreed to go, eh? You ain’t the only who can play hard to get.’

‘You turned him down? Gosh, I bet that rocked him back on his heels,’ Nell said. ‘What did he say?’

‘Norralot. I telled him it weren’t on to break up with one girl and then to ask her bezzie for a date. He went red as a beetroot and muttered that he hadn’t meant to upset me.’

‘Well, that was nice of him,’ Nell said, just as they reached the top of the hill and began coasting down towards the Swtan. ‘He’ll find someone else and it won’t do him any harm to realise that he’s not everyone’s cup of tea.’ She pointed ahead. ‘See that thatched roof? That’s the Swtan. The hill’s pretty steep, so keep a hold on your brakes and we’ll be there in two shakes.’

They reached the longhouse and were about to prop their bicycles up against the cow byre when Maggie put a detaining hand on Nell’s arm. ‘Hang on a minute,’ she hissed. ‘Are you going to tell the old feller what Auntie Kath said about not selling him the Swtan? Surely you aren’t going to let him know that she threatened to kick him out of the place altogether?’

‘Of course I’m not. For a start, it’s none of my business, and anyway, I’m sure Auntie will change her mind when she’s thought things over. So I’ll pretend I never mentioned the matter; why should I, after all? Toddy didn’t ask me to interfere.’ She sighed deeply. ‘How I wish Hywel was here – he’d know how to persuade Auntie to be reasonable. After all, it’s not—’

She stopped speaking abruptly as the door swung open and Toddy came out to meet them, smiling broadly and holding out a hand to Maggie which she immediately took. ‘Good morning, Nell. This must be Maggie, of course.’ He turned his friendly smile upon the land girl. ‘I’ve heard so much about you that introductions don’t seem necessary, because I reckon you’ve guessed who I am! Come in, come in; the kettle’s on the boil and there are some Welsh cakes steaming on the griddle. And I made butter yesterday . . .’

‘Wharra lovely feller,’ Maggie said as they left, pausing at the top of the hill to wave down at the small figure standing in the doorway of the Swtan. ‘And why d’you call him old? I know he’s got white hair, but he can’t be more than forty or fifty. From the way your aunt talks, I’d have thought he were at least a hundred!’

Nell laughed. They had pushed their bicycles up the hill, but now they mounted and turned their machines towards Ty Hen. ‘I know what you mean; I was flabbergasted when I first met him. It’s just that when I first spied him from a distance, I saw his white hair and leapt to the conclusion that he was really old. Then Hywel called him “the old feller” and said he had a pension ’cos he’d been injured in the last war.’ She sighed. ‘Once you get an idea into your head, it’s damned difficult to get it out again, but I’m really glad you liked him. What do you think about his offer to take us out fishing next time we go over? He told Hywel and me that the
Maud
– that’s the name of the boat – was built for a crew of two, but now I think he only said that because he knew Hywel wanted to be alone with me. The
Maud
’s quite big enough for three, so if you’d enjoy a trip . . .’

‘Wouldn’t I just!’ Maggie said fervently. ‘So long as Auntie don’t go kickin’ him out before then!’

Much as Nell had enjoyed her outing with Maggie, it paled into insignificance beside the excitement devouring her as her meeting with Hywel drew near. They had arranged to meet on Lime Street station between ten and half past on 30 April, and though Nell hoped very much for fine weather she knew that, rain or shine, the day would be a special one.

On the morning in question, she awoke as soon as the alarm went off, got out of bed and lit her candle, for it was still dark. Washing in cold water made her shiver, but the shiver was partly anticipation, and as soon as she had rubbed herself dry and scattered a little of the precious scented talcum powder which she kept for special occasions she crossed to the window and looked up at the sky. It was clear, the stars twinkling brightly, and there was a line of colour on the eastern horizon which seemed to promise another fair day. Nell swung round and examined the garments she had put out the previous evening. She had very few clothes, apart from the working things she wore every day, but she had bought a blue cotton dress from a market stall in Llangefni some weeks earlier and thought it would do very well provided it did not rain. The coat which she had worn on her arrival at the farm eighteen months before had inexplicably shrunk, though when she had said as much to Maggie her friend had guffawed rudely.

‘The perishin’ coat can’t shrink, you halfwit; you’ve got bigger,’ she had said. ‘I bet you didn’t have no real figure when your mam bought that coat, but now you’ve got a bust and a waist and that. If it’s cold enough for a coat, you’ll have to wear it, but it won’t be a bit comfortable. Leave it unbuttoned and sort o’ flung back . . . but if I was you, I’d risk freezin’ rather than wear that old thing.’

So now Nell put on the blue cotton dress and her old white sandals – who looks at feet? – then rooted in her chest of drawers for her navy cardigan. She had darned the holes in the elbows and replaced a missing button, though she had not been able to match the colour. Then she picked up the soft brown crayon which lay on her chest of drawers and tried to draw a line up her calves, to give the illusion that she was wearing stockings. The line, however, was so wobbly that Nell, sighing, gave up, scrubbed it off with her flannel, picked up her old brown shoulder bag and headed for the stairs.

She reached the kitchen, expecting to find it in darkness, and gave a squeak of surprise when she opened the door to find the room lamplit and her aunt, fully dressed, already at the stove. Kath smiled at her niece and jerked a thumb at the frying pan on the range before her. ‘Cut a couple of rounds of bread; I’m making you bacon and egg since you oughtn’t to set off on an empty stomach,’ she said. ‘I’ve boiled the kettle; make us both a paned, there’s a good girl.’

Nell set to work, saying as she did so: ‘Oh, Auntie, you really shouldn’t have . . . you are good! I was going to make do with a cup of tea and some bread and butter; bacon and eggs are a real treat.’

Her aunt ladled the food on to a plate and set it down before her niece. ‘And you don’t need to hurry because I’m going to drive you to the station in the pony trap,’ she said gruffly. ‘Can’t have you arriving at Valley all of a muck sweat.’ She dished up her own breakfast and sat down opposite Nell. ‘Give Hywel my regards and tell him to take good care of himself.’

‘I will,’ Nell said fervently, tucking into her breakfast. ‘You may be sure I will, Auntie.’

Nell was waiting under the clock on Lime Street station, more convinced every moment that something awful must have happened, for she had arrived at ten thirty and now it was just past twelve o’clock. She had almost given up when she saw an engine drawing in alongside the platform and doors beginning to open, and she was actually turning away, convinced that she and her lover were destined not to meet, when a voice she knew and loved spoke her name.

‘Nell! Oh, thank God you waited! I’ve been telling myself that you’d think you’d got the day wrong, or I had.’

Warm arms enveloped her and she felt safe and happy for the first time since she had arrived in the city. ‘Hywel! Oh, Hywel! I thought you were never coming. I thought something awful must have happened to your train, or that they’d stopped your leave at the last minute! I wanted to telephone the airfield, but I dared not leave the station in case you arrived while I was gone. But now you’re here, so everything’s fine.’ She snuggled against him for a moment, then drew back, linked her arm with his and began to pull him towards the exit. ‘Where do you want to go?’

They emerged on to the street and Hywel gave her waist a squeeze. ‘Tell me, cariad, is there a Lyon’s Corner House round here? I’ve been travelling since before six this morning and I’m parched. And it was too early for the cookhouse to make breakfast, so I’m quite hungry as well.’ He smacked his lips. ‘I wouldn’t say no to a pot of tea and a meal of some description.’

Nell arrived back at Valley on the last train and to her surprise, for she had not expected to be met, there was Feather, harnessed to the trap, with her aunt at the pony’s head. Nell, who had sauntered out of the station, preparing to tackle the long walk home, for she knew no taxi would be available so late, gave a cry of joy and ran over to her aunt. ‘Oh, Auntie, you are good! I
do
hope you haven’t met every perishin’ train.’

Her aunt returned her hug, then gestured to the pony trap. ‘Get in, cariad,’ she said briskly, then chuckled. ‘Fond though I am of you, we’ve been far too busy for me to go chasing off to the station every hour or so. Besides, I guessed you and young Hywel would want to spend as long as possible together, which meant you’d almost certainly catch the last train. If you’d come earlier, of course, you might have taken Mr Jenkins’s taxi, so when you’d not turned up by ten o’clock I decided to give Feather a bit of an airing. Well? Did you have a good day?’ She joined Nell in the trap, then clicked to Feather and the equipage moved forward. ‘You can tell me all about it as we drive.’

Nell snuggled into her seat and tapped the large brown paper parcel on her lap. ‘It was a perfect day,’ she said contentedly. ‘But I didn’t forget the commissions you and Maggie gave me. I bought a length of gingham for Maggie to make up into a summer frock and another length for you, only not gingham, just cotton.’ She looked anxiously at her aunt in the faint light afforded by the moon. ‘You did say blue, didn’t you?’

Aunt Kath nodded. ‘That’s right. I’m no hand at dressmaking, but Mrs Scissor in the village does a really good job, provided you don’t want anything too fancy. And now tell me about your day.’ She turned and smiled at her niece. ‘I don’t want any intimate details, though I don’t suppose there was much chance of canoodling with the city jam-packed as usual.’

Nothing loth, Nell began to describe her day until the moment of parting on the station. Then, as the pony and trap turned into the lane which led to Ty Hen, she twisted round to face her companion. ‘Do you remember me saying that Hywel had something important to discuss with me? Do you mind if I tell you what it was? It’s – it’s not exactly a secret, but I don’t mean to confide in anyone else. The truth is, I’d like your advice.’

‘Fire ahead,’ Auntie Kath invited. In the moonlight, Nell could see a little flush creep up her aunt’s cheeks and a smile of pleasure tilt the corners of her mouth. ‘I won’t say a word to a soul, and I’ll do my best to help in any way I can.’

‘Thanks,’ Nell said briefly, then took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. ‘Oh, Auntie, I just don’t know what to do for the best. It seems that Hywel has a friend at the airfield, a young man called Toby. Toby’s married and he and his wife rent a cottage halfway between the airfield and Tern Hill village. A week ago, Toby heard he was to go on a course at Church Stretton, to learn to fly bombers instead of fighters. This means he won’t be returning to Tern Hill ’cos at the moment, at any rate, there are only fighters on the station. Toby’s offered the cottage to Hywel and me. If we got married, Hywel would get a living-out allowance and he says I could easily get a job on one of the surrounding farms, either as a land girl or just as a farm worker. Only I think it’s too soon. We’ve known one another less than a year and we didn’t discover we were in love until a month ago. I’m not going to change my mind, there could never be anyone but Hywel for me, but actually marrying . . .’

‘It’s a big step,’ Auntie Kath agreed slowly. ‘But war makes a difference, cariad. You won’t be seventeen until June, which is awfully young to get married, even in wartime. And if you’ve doubts . . .’

‘Not about Hywel, but about other things,’ Nell admitted. ‘I’ve never had to run a house, or cope with rationing, because you’ve done it all. And then things are easier here – foodwise, I mean – because you grow so much of your own stuff, and keep hens and pigs and cows . . .’

Auntie Kath chuckled. ‘You’d learn soon enough how to manage your little house, and you’ve finally become a fair little cook,’ she pointed out. ‘As for rationing, that’s something that we’ve all had to learn, old and young alike. What you’ve got to ask yourself, dearest Nell, is whether you want to spend the rest of your life with Hywel. Are you happy with telephone calls and meetings when you can both be spared, or do you want to be together in the fullest sense of the word?’

Nell put her hands to her flushed cheeks. Auntie Kath clearly understood that part of her reluctance was a fear that marriage was a great deal more intimate than what you might call courtship. Would loving Hywel be enough? Other girls talked of the intimacies they shared with their boyfriends, but Nell had no real idea of what went on between two people once the bedroom door closed behind them. And she was beginning to wonder, she realised guiltily, whether she wanted to know.

She said as much, falteringly, to Auntie Kath, who gave a short bark of laughter and then leaned over and patted her knee. ‘I can remember feeling the same when Owain and I first wed,’ she told her niece. ‘It wasn’t something folk talked about then, but though I didn’t love Owain, I trusted him and I was right to do so. If you remember, I was still in love with another man, yet very soon my marriage was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Does that answer at least a part of your question?’