Tiger Bay Blues (24 page)

In addition to paying for the wedding, they bought her and Peter a bedroom suite but left the selection to her and, when Sali abdicated all choice of music and hymns in favour of Peter’s preferences, Edyth took it as an indication that her parents couldn’t care less about the ceremony.

She only saw Peter once during the month, when he visited Pontypridd to discuss the arrangements for the church service over lunch with the Reverend Price and the Bishop, thankfully for their stomachs, at the Bishop’s invitation in the Park Hotel. The Bishop asked her parents to join them but they refused, citing a longstanding engagement with the committee of the miners’ welfare fund. And if, as Edyth suspected, it was a tactical engagement, neither Peter, Reverend Price nor the Bishop questioned their absence.

Apart from that one brief day with Peter, when they met in the jeweller’s in Market Square so she could select her wedding and engagement rings from a tray he had arranged for the assistant to show her, most of her waking hours were spent in Gwilym James department store in Pontypridd.

Even after she had chosen her wedding dress, there were endless fittings and accessories to be chosen, both for herself and the bridesmaids. And for her new home, cutlery and china patterns, bed and table linen, and kitchen utensils to be picked out and decided on. But Peter insisted that they defer the actual buying until after they had received their wedding presents.

Peter was so busy with parish affairs that he couldn’t spare another day to visit her in Pontypridd, but he did manage to steal enough time to make occasional visits to Gwilym James’s sister store in Cardiff to view her choices. To her surprise, unlike Harry and her father, who left all domestic decisions to Mary and her mother, she discovered that Peter had very definite ideas on tableware, ornaments, linen and even bridal accessories and her trousseau.

He sent her daily epistles, relating details of the new church societies he was setting up, improvements he had made to the old ones, happenings at the weekly meetings of the parish council and descriptions of the friends he was making – friends, he reminded her, that would soon be hers. And, at the end of every letter, he outlined the improvements the builders and decorators, employed by the Church at the behest of the Bishop, were making to the vicarage in Cardiff Docks. His letters were more practical and informative than the romantic love letters she had dreamed of receiving when she was growing up, but what they lacked in passion they made up for in plans for their future together.

Affected by the strain of trying to pretend that her relationship with her parents was as close as it had ever been, she retreated to her room as often as she could during her last month at home. She packed boxes of personal possessions to be sent on to the vicarage by carrier to await her arrival after her honeymoon. And she looked for clues in Peter’s letters that would help her to visualise the new life that awaited her in Cardiff docks.

… 
In addition to redecorating every room in the vicarage, the Bishop has ordered the builders to modernise the bathroom and the kitchen. To Mrs Mack’s delight, they have already installed a new kitchen sink, stove and bathroom suite. I don’t think you saw either room on your short visit here. They certainly needed updating. The enamel on the sinks and the bath was crazed with black lines that Mrs Mack insisted no amount of scouring with
Vim
would remove. We will also have constant hot water available from the very latest design in gas boilers.

You have probably received a letter from my mother, if not, she intends to write to you very soon to tell you how delighted she is with our news. She has offered us her furniture, which was placed in storage after my father’s death. Most of it is antique Regency which my father inherited from his grandmother. She realises that it may not be to your taste, and she won’t be in the least offended if you decide to refuse it. However, as the Reverend Richards has given his furniture to his brother who runs a boarding house in Porthcawl, I won’t need to remind you that we are in need of all the help we can get in setting up home.

I confess, Edyth, I rather like the idea of being surrounded by the trappings of my childhood. As Mother pointed out, the pieces are only deteriorating in storage and if you really don’t like them we can discard them as soon as we can afford to replace them with new, although I warn you that is not likely to be very soon.

I am sorry I was so angry when you came to see me on the spur of the moment in Cardiff. I understand now that you only had my interests at heart and I regret that I wasn’t more sympathetic on hearing about your ordeal.

Just as Micah Holsten said it would, the fracas has been forgotten and I doubt that anyone will connect you with the girl who was attacked outside the church in the early hours of the morning.

She didn’t believe for one minute that Anna and the other women who had kicked and thumped her would forget it – and nor would the police.

After checking with the Bishop I have decided to ask Micah Holsten to be our best man, although he is a Lutheran. It seems fitting as he rescued you that night. I trust you will approve. As the saying goes, things have worked out for the best. God truly does move in mysterious ways.
I only hope that I will be deserving of your unselfish love.

All my love, now and always,

Your Peter

Edyth set down the letter. Carried away by the excitement of setting up her own home with Peter, she had been happy to go along with all his suggestions. She had already furnished the vicarage in her mind’s eye with tasteful Regency pieces, even going so far as to seek out complementary fabrics for curtains and cushions in Gwilym James and earmarking them for future purchase.

The telephone rang in the hall but, unable to decide between an imaginary green and gold Turkish rug and a red and dark blue Bokhara for the sitting room, the sound barely registered until Maggie shouted up the stairs, ‘Edyth, it’s for you.’

She walked out on to the landing. Maggie was standing at the bottom of the stairs with her lips puckered. She made a theatrical sucking noise. ‘It’s Lo-ve-er Boy.’

‘Why so childish, Mags?’ Edyth ran down the stairs and snatched the receiver from her sister.

‘Ooh, we mustn’t tease the vicar or his fiancée, must we, Edyth?’ Maggie chanted in a sing-song voice.

Edyth covered the receiver with her hand. ‘When are you going to grow up?’

‘When I go to college, which is more than you’ll ever do, Miss Forget the Promise You Made to our Father,’ Maggie goaded.

Edyth took a deep breath in an effort to contain her temper. ‘Privacy, please,’ she snapped, an expression Bella had used when she had been courting Toby. Turning her face to the wall so she wouldn’t have to look at Maggie, she spoke into the telephone. ‘Hello, Peter.’

‘Hello, Edyth, that, I take it, was Maggie.’

A lump rose in Edyth’s throat. Peter sounded so close she felt that he could almost have been in the next room. ‘You’re right, it was.’ She glanced in the mirror. Her sister was hovering in the hall, rearranging the dahlias their mother had cut that morning. She placed her hand over the receiver again and hissed, ‘Clear off.’

‘Pardon me for living.’ Maggie flounced into the sitting room, only to turn at the last moment and seize the receiver from her sister. ‘We’re all so looking forward to the wedding tomorrow, Peter. I can’t wait to have another brother. And Edyth’s positively
dying
for the honeymoon …’

Edyth grabbed Maggie’s arm and twisted it until she dropped the receiver, then pushed her through the sitting-room door. Maggie slammed it behind her. She heard Maggie’s voice loud in complaint and her mother’s softer tones.

‘Sorry about that, Peter,’ she apologised. ‘How are you?’ She lowered her voice when she heard a door open upstairs.

‘You’ll be pleased to hear that I’ve finally settled in the locum curate so I can look forward to tomorrow with a clear conscience. You?’

‘Missing you.’ Just hearing his voice had given rise to an overwhelming wave of longing. ‘For two pins I would grab my hat and coat and run down to the vicarage … you are with Reverend and Mrs Price?’

‘Not yet. I’ve been held up on church business. But please don’t run down to the Bay, not after what

happened last time.’

‘I didn’t intend for things to turn out that way.’

‘Edyth, that was a joke,’ he broke in swiftly.

The slight misunderstanding made her realise just how little time they had spent together. In some ways she felt as though she had known Peter all her life; in others – especially his church ways – she didn’t know him well enough to sense when he was being serious or not. Her knees trembled. She lifted the telephone from the table, sank down on the stairs and cradled it in her lap. In less than twenty-four hours they would be married.
Married.
She continued to shake at the enormity of the step she was taking while Peter talked.

‘… I’m sorry. After what happened, that was in bad taste. I wish it had been possible for us to have spent more time together this last month. I would give a great deal to be with you right now, but it would have been impossible for me to take even a week off for our honeymoon if I hadn’t concentrated on the parish. With Reverend Richards in hospital it’s been a nightmare to sort out the most basic things and then there’s all the work on the vicarage. The builders needed constant supervision –’

‘How is the Reverend Richards?’ Edyth interrupted, feeling the need to say something before Peter noticed her silence.

She was nervous – that was all. Didn’t every bride feel nervous? Even Bella had complained about leaving her reception early and, unlike her and Peter, she and Toby had already made love. There were so many things to think about, so many adjustments to be made  …

‘The doctor told me that if Reverend Richards continues to improve, they will move him to the convalescent home at the end of next month.’

‘That is good news.’ Edyth tried to concentrate on what Peter was saying, but she found it difficult to sound enthusiastic about the recovery of a man she had never met. Particularly in view of the fact that if he hadn’t suffered from ill-health, Peter would never have been given his own parish.

‘I’d like you to meet him, Edyth. Perhaps we could visit him after he has moved out of the hospital. He and his wife never had children and he has no close family left, only a distant cousin in England and another in Australia, and they hardly ever write. The parish was everything to him and he put every ounce of energy he possessed into it for over forty years.’

‘We’ll call on him as soon as he is settled in the convalescent home.’ She found it hard to understand why she was still shaking when she had fought so hard for her parents’ permission to marry Peter.

‘Ask me about the vicarage.’

They were perfect for one another. Hadn’t Peter said so? And he loved her. Why couldn’t she quell her feeling of unease?

‘Didn’t you hear me, Edyth? I said, “ask me about the vicarage.”’

‘Is it ready for our return?’

‘That would be telling,’ he teased.

She turned around when she sensed someone behind her. But it was only Mari carrying a tray into her father’s study. ‘Did the furniture arrive?’

‘It did.’

‘And you’ve arranged it?’

‘Not so it can’t be moved.’

‘I’m longing to see it.’ She tried to envisage the gloomy sitting room, gloomy no longer but bright and cheerful with new wallpaper and light-coloured paint. But as Peter had refused to disclose the colour schemes the Bishop had allowed him to pick out, she found it impossible.

‘Then I’ll cancel the honeymoon, shall I?’

‘Now I know you’re joking.’ She lowered her voice, when she heard Mari and her father talking.

‘I can’t wait to see your travelling outfit. Did you find that pleated purple coat and bronze-green dress in Gwilym James in Pontypridd?’

‘You expect me to tell you that when you won’t even give me a hint about the changes that have been made to the vicarage, and the colour schemes I’ll be expected to live with for years?’ She heard the doorbell ring on the other end of the line and Mrs Mack’s strong Scottish accent.

‘I’m sorry, Edyth. That is the secretary of the church council. I’ve called a meeting. I know I’ll only be away for a week but there are a few things to put in place. Don’t worry; I’ll be on the eight o’clock train out of Cardiff tonight and at the church bright and early in the morning.’

‘You just wanted someone other than Mrs Price to cook your dinner,’ she suggested mischievously.

‘I’ve already eaten. Micah Holsten and his sister invited me to share beetroot soup, roast duck, and peach preserve with them. Be grateful, the Reverend Price wanted to invite both of us to dinner this evening, but I told him that you’d be busy with your family.’

‘Mam and Dad have invited all the cousins and aunts as they did before Bella’s wedding, to help with the flowers and the last-minute things.’

‘I have written to you today. Hopefully it will be the last letter I will have to send to you. It will certainly be the last time I will write “Miss Edyth Evans”.’

‘Thank you, that was a lovely thought. I’ll treasure it.’

‘You don’t know what’s in it yet. Sorry, the secretary of the church council is waiting; I am going to have to go. Until tomorrow.’

‘Edyth, I’m waiting for a telephone call.’ Maggie stuck her head around the sitting-room door.

‘You can wait.’ Edyth turned her back and plugged her free ear with her thumb but she could still see Maggie in the hall mirror. Her sister made no attempt to move and, unaware that her reflection could be seen in the mirror, stuck her fingers in her ears and wiggled them at Edyth.

‘You watch the wind doesn’t blow and fix you like that permanently, Miss Maggie,’ Mari warned, catching sight of her when she left Lloyd’s study.

Maggie retreated back into the sitting room. She clutched the door until the last moment and Edyth braced herself for a slam, but her sister knew better with Mari watching. She closed it quietly. Mari shook her head and carried on down the passage to the kitchen.