Hearts of Gold (23 page)

‘What is it?’ Laura asked.

‘A case of decent wine to sweeten your father,’ he grinned. ‘If a quarter of what I’ve heard about Italian fathers is true, we’re going to need every drop.’

The warm Italian welcome that the Ronconis extended to Bethan was as cordial as usual. It even embraced Andrew but it stopped short of Trevor. A German spy captured during the Great War couldn’t have been put through a more intense interrogation than the one Papa Ronconi subjected him to. Half a dozen of the café tables had been pushed together in the centre of the room and covered over with Mrs Ronconi’s biggest damask tablecloth.

Gleaming like freshly-cut coconut, it was graced by the family’s best silver and china that had been specially brought down for the occasion in the back of Ronnie’s Trojan van the night before.

Unable to sit alongside Trevor and listen to what her father was saying, Laura donned an apron and busied herself, cleaning the tables and straightening the chairs that Ronnie’s waitresses had cleaned and straightened the night before.

Bethan hid in the kitchen with Mrs Ronconi and Laura’s sisters. But when the soup thickened and the chickens turned a dark brown at their extremities Laura’s mother had no choice but to begin serving the meal. She laid the tureen proudly in the centre of the table, and Ronnie opened one of the bottles of wine that Trevor had presented to Laura’s father. Bethan recognised the label. The bottles were from Andrew’s father’s cellar, the same vintage that Andrew took on their picnics.

The meal wasn’t as bad as Laura had expected. Thanks to Andrew there were no embarrassing silences. He excelled himself. One amusing story followed another, and he took every opportunity to present Trevor in a good light. He deferred to Trevor’s judgement on all things from politics to current medical advances. Not forgetting to sketch in glowing colours the brilliant career that every doctor of note in the area confidently predicted for Trevor.

And when he wasn’t praising Trevor or the cooking, or the Signor Ronconis’ (father and son) business acumen, he was complimenting Laura’s mother on her children or smiling and joking with Laura’s sisters until all of them, even Tina, fell madly in love with him.

After the apple pie and ice cream had been cleared away he even succeeded in winning Ronnie over by producing a bottle of Napoleon brandy to complement the cigars that Trevor handed round. Bethan studied them as Andrew clipped off the ends, noting that they too were the brand that Dr John senior smoked.

Following the example of the women of the family Bethan gulped her coffee and rose to help clear the table, but Andrew forestalled her.

‘That was a wonderful meal,’ he thanked Mrs Ronconi effusively. ‘And we’d love to stay longer, but unfortunately I promised my parents that we’d pick up my sister and her husband from the station at one-thirty. They’re coming in on the London train. Please forgive me for cutting such a pleasant time short and having to take Bethan with me.’

‘We understand the value of family promises,’ Laura’s father said ambiguously, as he struggled to his feet. His vast stomach shook in unison with his arm as he pumped Andrew’s hand enthusiastically. ‘Good of you to join us. You will come again.’

‘I hope next time it will be our turn to play host,’ Andrew said with a significant look at Trevor. ‘Thank you so much for inviting us, Mrs Ronconi. Ronnie, nice to see you again. Tina …’ he went around the table shaking hands, and kissing blushing cheeks. ‘See you later, Trevor, Laura.’

If looks could have killed, Laura would have slain Bethan there and then. Andrew waited impatiently as Bethan untied her apron and fixed her hat on; securing it with the neat pearl headed hat pin that had been part of her inheritance from her grandmother.

Then he ushered her smartly out of the front door before she even had time to say her goodbyes properly.

‘We’re not really meeting your sister are we?’ she asked as the door clanged shut behind them.

‘Of course.’

‘Andrew! Not now! I look dreadful.’

‘For pity’s sake, she’s my sister not the Queen. Come on, we’ve barely ten minutes before the train comes in.’

The two glasses of wine she’d drunk with the meal swam fuzzily in her head as she marched briskly alongside Andrew, or at least as briskly as the fair paraphernalia would allow, towards the station. Andrew bought platform tickets in the ground floor office and raced up the wide stone staircase that led to the trains.

Bethan tried to keep up and failed. He waited for her by the ticket collector’s booth.

‘Unfit, Nurse Powell?’

‘After a meal like that, yes,’ she panted.

‘It was rather good wasn’t it?’ he agreed. He handed the tickets to the uniformed official. ‘London train?’ he enquired.

‘Platform two. Due in three minutes, sir.’

‘I love the certainty of railway staff,’ he whispered as he took hold of her elbow and ushered her down the platform.

‘I wish you’d given me some warning about this,’ she pleaded. ‘I must look dreadful.’ She rummaged in her handbag for her powder puff.

‘You look beautiful. Here –’ He took a clean handkerchief out of his top pocket and wiped a smut from her chin. She glanced down her nose trying to see if there were any grease stains on her costume from the cafe kitchen.

‘You look absolutely perfect,’ he grinned. ‘Come here, woman.’ He wrapped his arms around her. ‘You know, the best thing about railway stations is that people turn a blind eye to things that they’d “tutˮ at in the park. I don’t know why we haven’t thought of coming here before.’

Bending his head to hers, he gave her a long, lingering kiss.

‘Now you to have to reapply your lipstick,’ he laughed as he released her.

‘Thank you very much, Dr John,’ she said peevishly. Suddenly weak at the knees, she looked at the benches, saw the dirt on them and decided against sitting down.

‘How was Laura this morning?’ Andrew asked, staring up the line in the direction the train would come in. ‘Frankly, there were times when I wondered if Trevor would make it to the car in one piece.’

‘I’ve never seen her so nervous,’ she mumbled as she dabbed lipstick on her mouth. ‘Did you know that Trevor had asked her to marry him?’

‘He told me when he came round on Friday night, late. Or should I say early Saturday morning.’

‘You didn’t say anything to me yesterday.’

‘Laura warned Trevor against saying anything. She wanted to tell you about it herself so I could hardly pass on information that I wasn’t supposed to know. Look here’s the train. Three minutes to the dot.’ He checked his watch. ‘I take my hat off to Great Western. For once they’re spot on time.’ 

Chapter Eleven

Laura wasn’t the only one in town who was nervous that day. At two o’clock Eddie entered Captain Dekker’s boxing booth flanked by his trainer Joey, and Haydn. The bravado that had sustained him at home fled in the face of the large crowd pressed tightly around the roped-off makeshift ring.

‘You’ll be fine, boyo. Don’t think about them, just pretend you’re in the gym.’ Joey, who knew exactly what Eddie was feeling, slapped him soundly on the back. Eddie looked coldly at the old man and for the first time saw him as he really was. Teeth missing, nose broken and pushed sideways, jaw broken and badly set, eyes bloodshot, sunk into a prematurely aged and wrinkled face. He’d told everyone he was the one who’d make it. World champion!

But Joey had once believed in his own ability every bit as much as Eddie believed in himself now. And you only had to look around the town, or the gym to see those who were even worse off than Joey. Punch drunk, with slurred speech that no one could understand, not that they said anything worth understanding. Men like Cast Iron Dean. Once hailed as the strongest in the world, now a blind wreck that the kids ran from on sight, and jeered at behind his back.

‘It’s not too late to walk away, Eddie,’ Haydn murmured, blanching at the sight of the dried bloodstains on the canvas floor and walls of the booth. It was the best, or perhaps the worst thing he could have said.

‘I’m here to stay,’ Eddie snapped. ‘But if you want to go, feel free.’

‘That’s not what I meant and you know it.’

‘Haydn, Haydn, over here!’ Four of the chorus girls from the current show at the Town Hall were sitting on one of only two benches in the booth. Sandwiched between them was the show’s comedian.

‘Come on, I’ll introduce you,’ Haydn offered.

‘To them?’ Eddie stared at their faces, heavily painted to announce to the world that they were on the stage. He’d never seen so much make-up on a woman close up before. Not a young one, and not out of the station yard.

‘Come on, they don’t bite.’ Haydn pushed Eddie ahead and Joey, reluctant to allow his protégé out of his sight, followed.

‘Eddie, Joey, meet Polly, Daisy, Doris, Lou, and the best comedian in Wales, Sam Spatterson.’

‘Best comedian in the British Empire, old boy,’ Sam corrected.

‘My apologies,’ Haydn smiled. ‘Best comedian in the Empire. Everyone, this is my kid brother Eddie and his trainer Joey.’

‘Trainer … ooh … you’re a boxer,’ Daisy squealed as she caught hold of Eddie’s arm and pulled him down on to the bench next to her. ‘I just love strong, powerful men,’ she purred.

Too embarrassed to say anything, Eddie stared at his feet.

‘He’s a world champion in the making,’ Joey said proudly.

‘He doesn’t look much like you, Haydn.’ Doris said pertly. ‘Sure your mother didn’t stray from the nest?’

The blood rushed to Eddie’s face.

‘I’m sure.’ Haydn gave Eddie a warning frown. Even he occasionally found it hard to reconcile the risqué talk of show business people with that of “normal” life. He couldn’t expect the same kind of attitude from Eddie, who’d never been backstage in the Town Hall in his life.

‘Tell me, Eddie,’ Daisy whispered in his ear as she fingered his biceps, ‘are you doing anything later, after you’ve boxed?’

‘I hadn’t thought about it,’ he muttered.

‘If you aren’t, you should come and see me in the show.’ She puckered her bright red lips as though preparing to kiss him. ‘I have a spare ticket here,’ She pulled a warm crumpled ticket out of the front of her low cut blouse and thrust it into the breast pocket of his new suit. ‘Don’t forget now,’ she crooned seductively. ‘Afterwards we could paint the town red. What about it, strong man?’

‘Lay off, Daisy,’ Haydn warned. ‘That’s my kid brother you’re talking to.’

‘Oooh big brother can get masterful.’ Doris opened her eyes wide. ‘I never knew you had it in you, call boy.’

‘I’ll see you ladies tonight,’ Haydn retorted suggestively.

‘Promises, promises,’ Daisy cooed as Eddie extricated himself from her grasp and re-joined Haydn and Joey.

‘Will you really see those girls tonight?’ Eddie asked as they walked back towards the ring.

‘Of course, I’m working, remember.’

‘I forgot.’

‘Girls like that aren’t worth a farthing,’ Haydn said with all the assurance of his nineteen years. ‘It’s nice girls you should be making cow’s eyes at.’

‘Like Jenny Griffiths?’ Eddie couldn’t resist the taunt.

‘Yes, if you must know, like Jenny Griffiths. But if on the other hand you’re looking for a bit of skirt to take up Shoni’s Pond tomorrow, you couldn’t do better than Daisy. By all accounts she’s made men of many boys.’

‘Sure you don’t mean mincemeat?’ Joey interrupted.

Eddie turned to the old man in surprise. He’d forgotten he was there.

‘You want to win fights, boyo? You stay away from women. That’s my advice. Women concentrate the blood where it’s not needed or wanted in a fight. And they stop it from flowing to where it is.’

‘Can you see Bethan anywhere?’ Eddie asked, embarrassed again.

‘She said she’d be here this afternoon, and that means she will,’ Haydn reassured him.

A voice boomed from the centre of the ring.

‘Here we have Big Bad Brutal Billy …’

Joey pressed close to Eddie. ‘This is where you start fighting, boy. Watch. Eyes and ears. Remember. Eyes and ears. Listen to the ref. Watch their boy’s movements, think about his training. After you’ve seen two or three of the Captain’s lads you’ll be able to pick out their weaknesses. And there are always weaknesses. Knowing your opponent is half the battle, boy. And when you know enough to take him on, we’ll make our move. And not on one of your venture five bob, win a quid challenges either.’

‘Five bob. Only five bob a challenge. Any man who can go for more than five minutes in the ring with Bad Billy Bater and stay on his feet gets a crisp, crackling pound note. Now who’s going to be the first taker to down this man?’

The crowd gasped as Big Billy stepped over the ropes into the ring and stripped off his robe.

He was an enormous hulk of a man. His face battered, his back and chest above his shorts black and blue from the punches he’d taken in the last town. He grinned vacantly at the crowd and held his hands high.

‘Please, Joey. Let me have a go at this one,’ Eddie pleaded, dreading the encounter but anxious to have it over and done with at the same time.’

‘Not yet, boy. Not yet.’ Joey put his arm round Eddie’s shoulders. ‘See those bruises. No boxer worth his salt would let an opponent get close enough to leave marks like that. His brain’s gone. No medals to be won battering a has been like Bad Billy. He’s Captain Dekker’s punchbag. The real talent comes out with the five-pound offer not the quid. Remember. Eyes and ears, boy. Eyes and ears.’

Eddie leaned uneasily against one of the posts that held the canvas ceiling over the booth. Haydn put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a packet of PK. He offered one to his brother. Waiting was definitely the worst part of this game.

‘Andrew’s kept your existence quiet enough. But then he always was tight lipped about his girlfriends, even when he practically lived with us in London. Heaven knows why, because I’ve been dying to have a sister-in-law.’ Fiona Campbell White, nee John, pressed her hand over Bethan’s as they sat together in the back seat of Andrew’s car. ‘There’s so many things I could tell a sister-in-law that I couldn’t tell a brother,’ she confided in a voice that carried to Andrew.

‘Perhaps now Bethan can see why I’ve kept her away from you for so long.’ Andrew changed gear, ready to climb the hill to the Common.

‘Why, dear brother?’ Fiona purred sweetly. ‘Were you afraid that I’d tell her what a rotter you really are?’ She glanced slyly at Bethan.

Bethan was amazed at the similarities between brother and sister. Fiona was a beautiful feminine version of Andrew. They both had the same tawny eyes, smooth tanned skin, and glossy dark auburn hair. But Fiona’s curls had been tamed into the classic, perfect bob that belonged to the world of advertising posters, not real life. Expensively dressed in a tan, fur trimmed costume set off by matching crocodile skin shoes and handbag she exuded wealth and confidence with every whiff of her exotic perfume.

Even her husband seemed to be one of her accessories. Good-looking in a smooth, matinee idol, middle-parting sort of way, he was beautifully dressed in an immaculately tailored pin-stripe suit. The whole image of well-heeled affluence that they projected contrived to make Bethan feel grubby, working-class and more inadequate than ever.

‘So what’s new in the medical world down here, Andrew?’ Alec Campbell-White asked heartily.

‘Not a lot.’

‘Have you decided to take up my father’s offer of a post in the surgical department of Charing Cross?’

‘No. Not yet.’ Andrew glanced in his mirror at Bethan who was sitting very stiffly and quietly.

‘Here we are, home!’ Fiona exclaimed excitedly. ‘And everything looks just the same.’

‘It would, wouldn’t it,’ Andrew commented wryly.

‘It was good of you to meet us, old boy, I know you and …’

‘Bethan,’ Andrew supplied.

‘Bethan must have had a million other things to do.’

‘Nothing as important as meeting my favourite brother-in-law and favourite sister. Here, let me give you a hand with the cases.’ Leaving the engine running, Andrew stepped out of the car and opened the boot.

‘But you are coming in, aren’t you?’ Fiona demanded of Bethan as Andrew and Alec swung the set of matching brown leather cases out of the car and into the front porch.

‘Afraid not, Fanny,’ Andrew answered for Bethan. ‘We’ve promised to meet friends in town but we’ll be back for dinner.’

‘Look forward to it, old boy,’ Alec said cheerfully as Fiona rang the doorbell. Andrew slammed the boot shut. Climbing back into the car he patted the vacant passenger seat. ‘Join me?’ he asked Bethan.

She did as he asked, waving shyly at Fiona in return for her enthusiastic goodbyes.

‘I didn’t know we were dining with your family tonight,’ she said as they left the driveway for the road.

‘I’m sure I told you.’

‘And I’m sure you didn’t.’

‘It’s no big deal, Beth.’ Instead of turning down the road into town he steered the car along the rough road that skirted the Common and the bleak moor that surrounded the Cenotaph.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Somewhere where we can talk.’

‘I promised to go to the boxing booth this afternoon.’

‘The boxing booth!’ he exclaimed in horror. ‘Bethan, have you ever been in one?’

‘No, but my brother Eddie is fighting.’

‘In that case I’ll take you. But they don’t even open until two and nothing much happens for the first couple of hours. If I promise to get you there in the next half-hour, can we talk for ten minutes now? I want to explain …’

‘There’s no need to explain anything,’ she said quickly. She had a sudden premonition that jarred uneasily with his decision to introduce her to his family. He was going to London to take up the post that Alec had mentioned. Laura and Trevor were getting married and Andrew was saying goodbye. She began to shake, terrified at the thought of a future without him.

‘You just took me by surprise,’ she gabbled hastily. ‘You never said anything about meeting your family.’

‘You don’t want to meet them?’

‘No … yes. Of course I don’t mind meeting them. It’s just that …’ She fell silent, conscious that she was talking simply so she wouldn’t have to listen to what he had to say. He continued driving until the road ended in a narrow lane. After a mile of winding turnings and sharp corners he pulled into a lay by beside a farm gate. He switched off the engine and turned to face her. She was staring at her handkerchief, knotting its corners into tortuous shapes with her tensed fingers.

‘Don’t you think it’s time you met my family?’ he pressed.

‘It’s good of you to ask me.’

‘Do you or don’t you want to meet them?’ He lifted her chin with his finger, forcing her to look at him.

‘If you want the truth, I’m scared to death of meeting them,’ she admitted.

‘Why, Beth? You already know my father, and my mother’s sweet and old-fashioned. Not in the least bit modern or strident like Fanny.’

‘Sounds to me as if you don’t like Fiona very much,’ she observed neatly, attempting to divert his attention from his father.

How on earth could he say that she knew his father? Nurses bowed their heads in the hospital when the senior doctor passed. Andrew talked about him as if they were used to exchanging pleasantries.

‘Take no notice of Fanny,’ he said glibly. ‘Sibling rivalry. We’ve hated each other since cradle days.’

‘Why?’

‘No reason at all. Don’t you hate your brothers and sister?’

‘No.’

‘Oh dear. I had no idea you belonged to a perfect family.’

‘My family’s anything but perfect.’

‘At last. We have something in common.’

‘Imperfect families?’

‘Come to dinner? Please?’ he smiled. ‘I’d lose all credibility with Fanny if you didn’t. And I told my mother to expect you.’

‘When?’

‘This morning.’

‘I could have made other arrangements.’

‘I asked you to keep the whole day clear.’

‘All right, I’ll have dinner with your family tonight.’ She summoned up her courage. ‘On one condition,’ she blurted out quickly before she could change her mind.

‘Name it.’

‘After we’ve been to the Rattle Fair you take me home to change, then you can meet my family first.’ She wanted to add, “so you can see who and what I really am” but pride held her back. If he really loved her, home, background and family would make no difference.

‘I thought you were never going to invite me,’ he smiled. ‘Now that’s settled how about picking up where we left off in the station.’ He cupped his hands around her face. Drawing her close he kissed her, effectively preventing her from voicing any of the mass of questions that slithered through her mind. But his lovemaking failed to still her doubts. Was he leaving? Going to London? If so why did he want her to meet his family? Yesterday he’d said he loved her. Was that a trite, meaningless remark – a product of passion – of the moment? Or the truth? Laura and Trevor were to marry and they …