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Authors: Catrin Collier

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Life, #Historical, #Historical Fiction, #Russian

Spoils of War (14 page)

BOOK: Spoils of War
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‘Then Tony might make it?’

‘Seems like there’s a chance.’

‘I hope so for the sake of the rest of them. Nice family.’ He wandered back down the bar.

‘Diana and Tony are ill?’

‘Where you been for the last two days, Judy?’ Glan delved into his pocket and pulled out a shilling.

‘Where do you think? Cooking and cleaning up after my old man. I haven’t had a minute to stick my head outside the door from Saturday night until I came here tonight. So, what happened?’

‘From what I heard, Ronnie came home unexpectedly and found Tony in his house with Diana. They had a fight and either Ronnie or Tony shoved Diana through the kitchen window, breaking her head open. Tony must have run off afterwards because the police found him half-dressed – in your street as it happened. Appears he’d had one too many – not that anyone can blame him for that, seeing as how he was on leave. Anyway, they locked him in the cells for the night and by yesterday morning he was in a bad way. Sister said it was young Dr John that saved him. Got some of this new drug the papers are full of – penicillin,’ he pronounced, proud that he’d remembered the word. ‘After a week or two’s rest they reckon he’ll be as good as new.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she muttered absently, taking his money and ringing up the price of his pint.

‘You all right, love?’ he asked as she returned his change.

‘Fine, why?’

‘You didn’t get a drink for yourself.’

‘I’ll have one later.’

‘What time do you get off?’

‘I’m going straight home tonight, Glan. I’m tired.’

‘I could walk you.’

‘It’s only across the road.’ Any other night she would have jumped at the chance but all she could think of was Tony’s kitbag. She’d dumped the clothes he’d left in her bedroom into it and pushed it beneath the bed in the boxroom, but it couldn’t stay there. Her father rarely went in there, but what if the boys came home and found it?

‘Judy!’

‘Mmm …’

‘What’s the matter with you? I’ve been talking to you for the last few minutes and you haven’t said a word.’

‘I told you, I’m tired.’

‘Tomorrow night? You – me – walk home?’

‘I’m off.’

‘Even better, how about the pictures?’

‘OK,’ she agreed half-heartedly, still preoccupied with thoughts of the kitbag.

‘Meet you outside the White Palace at six.’

‘You sure you’ll be able to get away tomorrow night?’

‘With you waiting, love, not even matron herself will be able to stop me.’

‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Bethan, Andrew.’ David hesitated before deciding it would look odder if he didn’t kiss Bethan’s cheek. Afterwards, he held out his hand to Andrew.

‘It was our pleasure, David,’ Andrew replied with equal insincerity.

‘Are you ready, Angelo?’

‘Yes, Colonel.’ Angelo gave Liza’s hand one last squeeze before following David through the door.

‘See you tomorrow, Angelo.’ Liza waved as the two men trudged through the snow towards David’s Jeep.

‘Bye,’ Bethan called before closing the door.

‘It was good of the colonel to give Angelo a lift down the hill.’ Liza returned to the dining room and began to heap dirty dishes and glasses on to a tray.

‘It was good of him,’ Bethan agreed. ‘Leave that, Liza. You do enough work in the wards all day and don’t try to tell me you don’t. I was a trainee once. Now go on up and see your sisters. If they’re asleep I suggest you join them.’

‘You sure, Auntie Bethan?’

‘I’ll give Bethan a hand.’ Andrew walked in from the kitchen with an empty coal bucket.

‘Then I’ll say good night.’ She kissed Bethan.

‘Liza?’

‘Yes?’

‘That’s a nice young man you’ve got there.’

‘Angelo? He’s not bad is he, Auntie Bethan?’ She laughed as she ran up the stairs.

‘That girl’s grown up so much since I took her in.’ Bethan heaped the last of the glasses on the tray as Andrew placed the bourbon in the sideboard. ‘You don’t have to help me here,’ she murmured, slightly unnerved by his silent presence.

‘I really don’t mind.’

‘Togetherness is hardly washing dishes.’

‘Then what is it, Bethan?’

Leaving the tray on the table she looked across at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘What I said. I’m asking for your definition of togetherness.’

‘It’s a bit late to play games, Andrew. You have surgery first thing in the morning, I’ll be up early with the children.’

‘So, we carry on without talking.’

‘We’re talking now.’ Picking up the tray she ferried it into the kitchen. She’d piled the dishes high, next to the sink. Normally she would have left them until morning and either she, or Nessie would have done them along with the breakfast things. But disturbed by Andrew’s mood and wanting to delay the moment when she’d have to join him in bed, she put a spoonful of grated soap ends into the enamel bowl and ran the hot tap.

‘I’ve taken out all the coals that can be salvaged from the dining-room fire and damped down the ashes.’ Setting the metal bucket he was carrying in front of the stove, Andrew lifted the glowing embers with tongs, placing them carefully on top of the fire before shutting the stove door.

‘Leave the fireplace for Nessie to do in the morning.’

‘I intended to.’

‘It was nice to have a fire in the dining room. We only lit it there a few times during the war – once for Rachel’s second birthday; then there were a couple of Christmases. Your parents spent the last one of the war with us. But I think I’ve told you that already.’ She was conscious of gabbling, of saying anything to fill the strained atmosphere.

‘Yes, you did.’

She leaned on the sink and took a deep breath as he returned the coal bucket to the wash house. She heard the cold tap running and guessed he was washing his hands out there. By the time he returned she’d finished all the glasses and laid them upside down on the draining board. She’d just begun on the plates when he brought the last of the cutlery and crockery in from the dining room.

‘There’s only the tablecloth.’

‘It’ll need washing. I’ll see to it in the morning.’

‘Right, you wash, I’ll dry?’ Taking a tea towel from a drawer in the dresser he picked up a glass.

‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘I know I don’t, Bethan, but I want to.’

Noticing that he’d called her Bethan, not Beth, all evening, something he only did when he was angry with her, she didn’t argue any more. Stacking the plates in the wooden drainer she began on the cutlery. ‘This silver needs polishing. After you’ve dried it, leave it out for Nessie.’

‘I will.’

‘Andrew,’ unable to bear the tension generated by his absurdly polite responses a moment longer, she confronted him. ‘Something is wrong. What is it?’

‘Absolutely nothing.’

‘Something is bothering you.’

‘You think I should be bothered?’

‘You’ve been odd all evening.’

‘I apologise if I have but I assure you, if my behaviour has upset you in any way it wasn’t intentional. Wasn’t I good company for your colonel?’

‘He’s not my colonel!’

‘But he’d like to be.’

‘We’re friends, Andrew.’

‘I know, good ones.’

‘You have women friends.’

‘Not like David Ford.’

‘They wouldn’t be, would they?’ she retorted tartly. ‘He’s a man.’

‘Why so upset, Bethan?’

‘Because you’re being ridiculous.’

‘Ridiculous.’ He raised his eyebrows.

‘Don’t stand there looking all holier-than-thou. You think there’s something going on between David and me. Why don’t you finally come out with it?’

‘Why should I, when you’ve already told me there’s only friendship between you.’ He gazed back at her, cool, self-contained and provocative. Positively daring her to say otherwise.

‘If there’s no trust between a husband and wife then their marriage isn’t worth this much,’ she burst out furiously, clicking her fingers.

‘I quite agree.’

‘Damn you, Andrew! You’re enough to drive a saint to desperation.’ Finally losing her temper she clenched her fists.

Catching her wrists before she could pound him, he pulled her close, all the while staring deep into her soft, brown eyes. She recoiled, uncertain whether he was about to hit her or push her away. In the event he did neither. Forcing her head back, he kissed her but there was no tenderness in his lips or his body as he used his weight to slam her against the wall. Everywhere he touched, his impact was savage, almost brutal in its intensity. Her wrists smarted as he finally released them to wrap his arms about her shoulders. His teeth and lips bruised hers as his tongue entered her mouth.

Suddenly afraid, she struggled to free herself but he was too strong – too determined. His fingers moved to the row of buttons at the back of her dress. He fumbled for only a few seconds before losing patience. Grasping her dress at the neck he tore it along its entire length from shoulder to hem. Ripping it from her body he tossed it to the floor and all the while he never stopped kissing her. As his fingers roamed over her flesh, brushing aside straps and snapping hooks and buttons, wrenching them from her underclothes, she shivered and not entirely from cold. Even now, with both of them angered to the point of violence he was sufficiently familiar with her body and skilled enough to evoke responses that were half pain, half pleasure.

The light burned, the door was open to the hall, but Bethan was oblivious to everything except the all-consuming, urgent hunger he’d engendered within her. But all Andrew could think of as his body finally pierced hers, was that this once – maybe for the first time since his return – he would drive every thought and every consideration of David Ford from her mind.

Noticing a light burning in the room he used as an office, David opened the door to find his old cook/batman sitting at the desk scribbling a note.

‘Dino, you’re the last person I expected to see here at this time of night. I know you’ve had to cut your honeymoon short but you should be home in bed with your wife.’

‘Got a tip-off in a pub that I thought might interest you. Now you’re here I can destroy the evidence. The natives don’t like snitches who run to the authorities with tales.’ Tearing the piece of paper he’d been writing on from the pad, he shredded it into tiny pieces before consigning it to the bin. ‘I’ve been drinking with my brother-in-law.’

‘The constable?’

‘Megan ordered us out of the house. She and Myrtle wanted to try to get through to Ronnie. Megan’s afraid that if he doesn’t talk about Diana soon he’ll crack wide open.’

‘So you and the constable went to one of the back rooms that are kept open twenty-four hours a day for the police?’

‘In New York maybe. In Pontypridd they’re more conservative.’

Knowing better than to ask, David removed a bottle of bourbon and a couple of glasses from the top drawer of the cabinet and poured out two full measures. ‘To snitches.’ He handed Dino one.

‘You didn’t hear it from me, but I think we –’

‘Me until next Monday. You’re on honeymoon, remember. Where you spend it is your concern.’

‘All right, you should take a look at a scrap yard on a farm above Treforest run by a Ianto Myles.’

‘He has our stuff?’

‘He’s selling guns to disgruntled ex-servicemen who are having trouble finding jobs.’

‘Our guns?’

‘That’s what Huw and I haven’t been able to find out but Huw hopes they are. He’d like nothing better than for you to nip this in the bud before anyone gets hurt.’

‘And incidentally do his job for him. Anything for a quiet life, your new brother-in-law.’

‘Nothing wrong with that.’

‘Nothing at all, given what’s happening in your family. But everyone knows a lot of guns have come back into this country with demobbed servicemen. Half the men I’ve talked to have souvenir Lugers.’

‘I’ve told you what I heard.’

‘And I’m grateful, Dino. So,’ David sat on a chair and lifted his feet on to the desk, ‘how’s married life?’

‘Apart from worry over Diana and Ronnie, pretty wonderful. You should try it yourself some time.’

‘I have.’

‘There’s nothing like it when it works.’

‘And there’s no one so smug as a happy bridegroom.’

‘Guilty, but then Megan’s quite a woman, and,’ he eyed David carefully as the colonel replenished both their glasses, ‘so is her niece.’

‘Mrs John? I’ve just had dinner with her – and her husband.’

‘If I’m talking out of place, tell me to go to hell.’

‘I haven’t any authority over civilians.’ David lifted his glass.

‘Colonel …’

‘Now you’re a spy out of uniform perhaps you could bring yourself to call me David. I take it you brought up the subject because your wife put you up to it.’

‘She’s worried about Mrs John.’

‘You can tell her I have no designs on my charming ex-landlady and even if I had, her husband is quite capable of punching me on the nose.’

‘And she’ll tell me that the way you and your ex-landlady look at one another says different.’ Dino picked up his glass and stared thoughtfully at the liquor as he swirled it around. ‘After living in the same house as you and Mrs John, I couldn’t help feeling that if Captain John hadn’t come back from the war his widow wouldn’t have remained a widow for long.’

‘But he did come back.’

‘And people are talking.’

‘So Mrs John told me yesterday.’

‘I know when it’s time to shut my mouth.’ Dino finished his drink.

David picked up the bottle and refilled both glasses a third time. ‘People here think differently to people at home.’

‘Not that differently.’

‘I mean about divorced men. They see us as immoral scoundrels. ‘

‘They’re revising their opinions. If the newspapers have got it right, half the returning servicemen want to get shot of their wives.’

‘And your wife thinks Dr John wants to join them.’

‘It’s not what Megan or I think that’s important, Colonel. I’ve said all I came to say. You won’t forget the name?’

‘Ianto Myles.’

‘Come to dinner one night when things have settled down a bit at home and we know what’s happening to Diana.’

BOOK: Spoils of War
11.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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