The Lost Days of Summer (46 page)

‘Yes, I suppose it does,’ Nell said slowly. ‘In fact, if only Hywel were still stationed at Valley, I don’t believe I’d hesitate. I’d know heaps of people and I could come back to Ty Hen whenever I wanted. In fact, I could go on working here . . .’

‘You’re thinking that you and Hywel could have moved into the spare room,’ her aunt said, nodding and smiling. ‘But believe it or not, cariad, even more problems would have raised their ugly heads. Could you have walked into your bedroom with Hywel and not felt embarrassed? Believe me, two women into one kitchen don’t go
. I told you how Nain resented any attempt on my part to help in what she regarded as her own home. I dare say I wouldn’t make such difficulties for you, but I expect I’d interfere. I wouldn’t mean to, but if I saw you doing something wrong I wouldn’t be able to resist telling you so.’

Nell heaved another sigh as her aunt drove the pony into the farmyard and drew to a halt. She climbed down and went to the pony’s head, and once her aunt was on firm ground she began to lead Feather towards the stable, saying over her shoulder, ‘Then do you advise me to agree to get married by special licence, which is what Hywel wants? Or shall I say I need more time and set the wedding date for autumn – or even next spring?’

‘Now there I can’t advise you,’ Auntie Kath said, beginning to untack the pony. ‘It’s the one question that only you can answer. I – I was in a similar position once, and now, with hindsight, I believe I took the wrong decision. But I’m sure about one thing: you are very young to get married. Further than that, I dare not go. All I will say is, think long and seriously before you make up your mind.’

Nell agreed to do so, thinking that if her aunt knew what Hywel had suggested she would probably have forbidden him even to visit the house, for Hywel had wanted her to go over to Tern Hill and spend a weekend either at a local pub or at Toby’s cottage – as Mr and Mrs Smith, of course. She had been shocked . . . but tempted nevertheless. However, now at home once more the idea seemed downright ridiculous, and she decided to put it out of her mind. I’m not seventeen yet, she reminded herself defensively. We’ve plenty of time for – for that sort of thing.

A couple of days after Nell’s return from her trip to Liverpool, Maggie came in from a visit to the village to order animal feed, a newspaper in one hand and her face very red. She burst into the kitchen and slammed the paper down on the table. ‘Them buggers have pretty well flattened Liverpool,’ she said breathlessly. ‘The bloody Luftwaffe targeted the docks, but . . . well, read it for yourselves. Dai Bread told me it’s been on the news, but there’s something wrong wi’ our set; I reckon our accumulator needs rechargin’.’

‘Flattened?’ Nell faltered. Her voice wobbled and she could feel the blood draining from her cheeks. ‘Oh, Maggie, all my relatives . . . well, not the kids, they’ve been evacuated, and Mam and Auntie Lou aren’t there but the rest . . . Auntie Carrie, Auntie Susan, Grandma Ripley and Great-aunt Vera, my cousins . . .’

‘Here, read it,’ Maggie said briskly, indicating the paper she had put before Auntie Kath. ‘It’s real bad, chuck. I know I don’t have no family, but I’ve a grosh o’ pals in the city.’ She turned to Auntie Kath. ‘Can we go back, Auntie? There might be something we could do to help.’

Auntie Kath, however, shook her head. ‘It says here that the railway stations have been hit and the phone lines are down,’ she said. ‘There’s no way a couple of girls could do anything to help; in fact you’d be more of a hindrance, because judging from the report in that paper there might well be more raids to come.’

‘Oh, but Auntie—’ Nell began.

Her aunt cut across her words. ‘
No
, Nell. I said no and I meant no,’ she said firmly. ‘For a start, how do you mean to get there, with the railways out of action, and no doubt the buses and trams too? Besides, you know very well that your mother sent you to me to keep you safe, not to let you go hightailing off to the city when it’s being deliberately targeted by enemy planes.’

‘Oh, but Auntie, suppose Hywel was there? Suppose he – he was injured in one of the raids? I can’t bear to think of him needing me, wanting me . . .’

‘You can telephone this evening and make sure he’s still at Tern Hill. Be grateful that you can still keep in touch, which might not be possible if he were stationed near Liverpool.’

‘But what about the aunts, and . . . and everyone?’ Nell said frantically. ‘Auntie Susan’s on the telephone; I don’t know her number but I dare say I could find it if I rang the exchange.’

‘No point,’ Auntie Kath reminded her. ‘As I’ve already said, cariad, the lines are down. But I promise you that as soon as it’s safe to do so you and Maggie can go back to the city and check up on your friends. Until then you must just continue to be patient, get on with your work, and wait for news. For a start, I’ll get the trap out and fetch the accumulator; then at least we’ll be able to listen to the wireless morning and evening.’

It was not until the raids had ceased and the clearing up had begun that Aunt Kath agreed to the girls’ taking a long day off to check on their friends and relatives. They set off at the crack of dawn and came back to Ty Hen on the last train, but with quiet minds. The death toll had been heavy, but though Kingfisher Court had been razed to the ground, and the damage to the docks, warehouses and city centre was almost unbelievable, both Maggie’s pals from the children’s home and Nell’s relatives had been in shelters almost throughout the seven nights of raids. Though many of them were homeless, owning only what they stood up in, they had their lives, and after what they had been through, and what others had suffered, that seemed enough.

Nell and Maggie returned from the city knowing that the destruction was so bad they could do nothing to help. Indeed, as Auntie Kath said, their job was providing food for those unfortunates who were not in a position to grow fruit, vegetables and cereal crops for themselves. Nell rang Tern Hill most nights, but Hywel was up to his eyes in work since so many aircraft had been damaged.

‘But I’ll probably get a few days off when the damage has been put right,’ he said. ‘As soon as I know, I’ll tell you, and then we can see if . . . well, if we can meet.’

Nell had muttered something to the effect that meeting would be very nice, but she knew that Hywel meant more than just meeting. He still wanted them to book in somewhere as Mr and Mrs Jones, and Nell could not bring herself to agree to such a thing. But meeting, if it was just meeting . . . her mind spiralled off into conjecture, so that when Maggie spoke to her, she answered at random and then had to apologise. Maggie grinned. ‘You’ve been in a dream ever since Hywel said he’d be gettin’ leave and wanted to meet you somewhere quieter than Liverpool.’ She turned to Kath. ‘But tell your niece not to mek it anywhere in Wales, if she’s thinkin’ of a dirty weekend, ’cos the Welsh would be shocked out o’ their minds.’

‘That’s enough of that sort of talk,’ Auntie Kath said, but not as though she really disapproved. In fact there was a little smile on her lips and Nell wondered, with some dismay, whether her aunt had guessed that it had not just been marriage and a special licence that Hywel had suggested.

She shot a look at her aunt from beneath her lashes, reflecting that Kath and Eifion had had to work twice as hard as usual when she and Maggie had visited Liverpool. The four of them were sitting round the breakfast table, eating porridge and drinking tea, and now Kath cleared her throat and tapped the table to quieten Maggie, who was talking at the top of her voice about the possibility of a date with Bryn in the coming week.

‘Dates! That’s all you young things think about,’ Kath said. ‘But today it’s my turn to abandon Ty Hen for a few hours; I’ve some business to transact in Holyhead so I mean to take Feather and the trap down there as soon as I’ve finished my breakfast and tidied myself up. I may be back in time for evening milking or I may not, but you girls – and you, Eifion, of course – should be able to cope without me just for once.’ She stood up, collected the empty porridge bowls, and took them over to the sink. ‘It’s a lovely day; I’ll treat it as a bit of a holiday. A break wouldn’t harm me. And I might meet a friend or two whilst I’m in Holyhead. Be a nice change to gossip with someone other than you three.’

Nell, Maggie and Eifion set to work with a will. After milking it was Maggie’s turn to work in the house – which included, today, baking shortcakes for their elevenses – whilst Eifion fed the stock and Nell went to check on the youngest lambs. These animals were kept in the small pasture nearest the house, since they were more at risk than the older ones, and having satisfied herself that all was well she was heading across the yard once more when she happened to glance across to the shed where they kept the bicycles, and saw that the door was flung wide. Frowning, she went across to check and discovered that one of the machines was missing.

She was still staring, nonplussed, when a voice spoke behind her. ‘What’s up, Nell?’

She jumped and turned to face Eifion, who was peering over her shoulder. ‘One of the bikes is missing,’ she said slowly. ‘Surely it can’t have been stolen?’

Eifion snorted. ‘Is it likely?’ he said scornfully. ‘Borrowed, mebbe . . . or— Hold you on a moment.’

To Nell’s surprise he ambled across the yard to the stable, then turned and grinned at her. ‘Feather’s still in her stall,’ he called. ‘Clear as mud it is that your auntie have took the bicycle. I’ll let Feather out into the birch pasture, shall I?’

‘Yes . . . no . . . I don’t understand!’ Nell wailed, following Eifion across the yard. ‘Why should she decide to cycle all the way to Holyhead? It’s all of twelve or fourteen miles. She must have decided to go into the village instead.’

Eifion went into the stable and opened the half-door to grab the pony and put a rope halter round her neck. Then he led her out of the farmyard and across to the birch pasture where Hal was already grazing. ‘I don’t know about the village,’ he said, slipping the halter from Feather’s neck and slapping her on the rump. ‘If you want to find out where the missus have gone, though, take a look at the dust in the lane. We’ve not had rain for days and days . . . there should be tyre marks.’

There were. Crossing the lane from the birch pasture to return to the farmyard, Nell and Eifion saw the tyre marks at once and they led, not to the village, nor to Holyhead, but in the opposite direction. Nell’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘She’s gone to the Swtan,’ she gasped. ‘I bet she’s going to tell Toddy that he can’t stay. Oh, Eifion, she wouldn’t want Maggie or me to know what she was up to because she must have realised we’d be upset. Look, go back to the kitchen, would you, and tell Maggie I shan’t be in for elevenses. I’m going to take the other bike and see if I can catch Auntie up before she reaches the Swtan.’

‘Well, I don’t know as your auntie would turn him out, ’cos that ain’t her way,’ Eifion said slowly. ‘Likely she’ll just name a peppercorn rent—’

Nell cut across him. ‘No, don’t you remember how angry she was when I told her Toddy had suggested buying the place? She seemed to think it was an insult to Owain. She actually said she would have him out.’

‘Oh aye, but has she done it?’ Eifion asked. ‘Course she hasn’t! If you ask me, despite what she says, she’s curious about the old feller and has gone to take a crafty look.’

Nell raised her brows. ‘I s’pose that’s possible,’ she said grudgingly. ‘But I’ve been meaning to ask you why you call him the old feller. He must be thirty years or more younger than you. Auntie calls him that too, though she’s never met him.’

Eifion shrugged. ‘I dunno. Before we knew his name was Toddy, everyone referred to him as the old feller and I guess it’s stuck; it’s a nickname like.’

‘Hm. But to go back to what I was saying earlier, people do strange things when they’re angry. Oh, I don’t know; I hope you’re right, but I’d feel a whole lot happier if I knew for certain what she meant to do. I think I will take the other bike and see if I can catch her up, ask her why she pretended she was going into Holyhead.’

She entered the bicycle shed, mounted the remaining bicycle and would have pedalled away had Eifion not grabbed the handlebars.

‘Hold you hard, girl,’ he said, a trifle breathlessly. ‘Your back tyre is as flat as a pancake. You ain’t going anywhere until it’s mended, ’cos that’s a real bad puncture. Here, go and fetch me a bucket of water and I’ll mend it for you.’

‘Thanks, Eifion, but I don’t mean to hang around,’ Nell said. ‘I’ll walk. With a bit of luck I might even arrive soon after she does, since I shall be going across the fields and she’ll have to go by road. Tell Maggie where I’ve gone.’

When Kath got up that morning, she decided that she had put off visiting the old man in the Swtan for quite long enough. She would go this very day, taking Feather and the trap, and confront the trespasser – for that was what he was – and suggest that he use his savings to buy or rent some other property. She did not really know why she should resent the man; perhaps what she really resented was the fact that she herself, the owner of the Swtan, was just about the only person who had never met Toddy. In a way, she had brought this upon herself by her determination never to cross the threshold of what had once been the home of the woman who had hated her so heartily.

You were a fool, Kath Jones, to tell everyone that you didn’t care who had taken over the longhouse, she reminded herself. Now, by being so stubborn, you’ve made it impossible to pay an ordinary visit. However, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t leave the pony and trap in Llanrhyddlad whilst you have a stealthy look round . . . Her mind did a double take. Of
course
there was a good reason for not leaving the trap in the village. If she did so, everyone would know that she had gone to the Swtan to spy on the old feller, so, since she had no desire for folk to think ill of her, she had chosen to go on the bicycle instead of taking Feather.

Pedalling slowly along in the sunshine, she thought she would hide her machine in the little copse just behind the well and then take a look at the Swtan. Then it occurred to her that there was a good chance the man would be out in his boat, for the tide was right and the sea smooth as silk. She decided that, provided she did not see him pottering around outside the longhouse, she would make her way to the cliff top. If his boat was not on the beach, then she would be safe to really look into things: to examine the outhouses, the vegetable garden, the state of the land upon which he trespassed, maybe even the longhouse itself. She remembered belatedly how she had once loved the cottage, been truly proud of the way she and Owain had made it good, lavishing not only time and material goods but also love on this odd little dwelling perched high above the sea shore.