Goodbye to Dreams (3 page)

When he had settled them in the trap, Willie said, ‘We’re so late anyway, what say we go around the beach road. It’s a clear night and you’re both well wrapped up.’

‘What a lovely idea, Willie,’ Ada said. She sat close to Cecily and put an
arm around her, comforting, reliable and concerned. Sensitive to her sister’s unease after seeing Danny. ‘We need to unwind a bit, don’t we?’

The hoofs clopped and echoed, an impertinence in the solemn silence of the early hour. As they skirted the wide curving bay and saw the
silver-tipped
waves on a leaden sea, the only lights were from the few houses where some families still celebrated the beginning of a new year, a new decade.

The sea was separated from the sky by the thinnest pale line, but as they watched, morning came, borne reluctantly in on pink-tinged mist, rolling over eastern point until the lights in the houses were dimmed in its wake.

‘Beautiful,’ Ada breathed.

‘Melancholy,’ Cecily murmured.

‘Late!’ Willie announced firmly. He clicked to the weary horse and they trotted home through the empty streets.

Danny Preston rode home in the early morning, furious that he had wasted time coming to see Cecily. She hadn’t changed. She was still a flirt, laughing and looking up into every man’s face, widening her dazzling eyes, not able to keep her charms for one person. He opened the throttle, uncaring of the people he disturbed, remembering how she had hugged and kissed everyone within reach, her dress offering a generous view of her body. Why had he wasted even a moment imagining how she would welcome him back after the lonely years? Lonely years? She wasn’t the type to be lonely!

His mind built images of her outgoing personality, her familiarity with strangers that showed her for what she really was: a tease and a flirt. How could he ever have contemplated marrying her and spending half his life wondering how friendly she was being while he wasn’t with her? Her mother had left them to live with another man – it must be in the blood – and he’d been a fool to believe Cecily would change.

Jessie was far from exciting but at least she would give him peace of mind. He forced himself to think of quiet, gentle Jessie as he rode the last few yards to his home. Tomorrow he and Jessie would name the day for their wedding. Tonight had not been a waste of time; it had exorcised the obsession of Cecily Owen for good. But it was of Cecily he dreamed and whose face troubled his sleep that night and for many nights to come.

To Cecily the early morning ride was unreal. The wild dancing and the excitement of the New Year, the tentative hand-holding of Gareth, all seemed more like a play she had seen long ago, not recent moments in the darkness. Seeing Danny, sitting beside him, feeling his lips on hers, had distorted everything into a fantasy. Even the shop for which they were
heading was not the home she had left only hours before but a place not seen for a long time. It was as if she were the one who had been away for seven years, not Danny, who had popped back into her life to rouse the flames still flickering there, only to fight and depart once more.

As they trotted along the main road she wondered vaguely about the time. If the town hall clock had chimed she had not heard it. The streets were not completely empty even now. When Willie turned the trap from the main road down the hill to the shop, a slow trickle of men were on the way to the docks, their hard boots joining the sound of the horse, who was hurrying now he was close to the stable and food. Shopkeepers were already at work washing pavements outside their premises and carrying out their wares to attract passers-by. Paper boys were off on their rounds, whistling cheerfully.

The shop bell tinkled as they opened the door. Willie waited until they were safely inside then walked the horse around to the back lane and the stable entrance. Cecily walked in first and their father stood up out of the large armchair.

‘Been joy-riding, have you?’ he asked disapprovingly. ‘Disgusting
behaviour
I call that, keeping that young lad out all night. Willie waits until all hours to see you two home safe – you could at least consider him a bit.’

Owen Owen was a tall, thin man and as he rose to greet them, ash from the cigarette he had been smoking fell from his clothes. He was in stockinged feet: the heavy work boots were where he always put them, on the fender of the dying fire ready for the morning. Beside them the pipe he occasionally smoked lay fallen on its side, spent ash in an untidy heap. His eyes were red-rimmed with tiredness and the effect of the smoke drifting up to sting them, and held their customary sadness.

‘I’ll go and help Willie with the horse,’ he muttered. ‘Luckily I don’t start till two o’clock today. Not that you worried about that!’ Continuing his grumbles he stumbled across the room, down the passage and through the back kitchen to the yard.

‘Been drinking bad by the look of him,’ Ada whispered.

‘I’ll go up and see that Myfanwy is all right.’ Cecily ran up the stairs and opened the door of the little girl’s room. The covers were thrown back and she carefully tucked them around the sleeping child, the little girl so precious to them all, whom they had adopted when she was only weeks old. Cecily kissed her and ran back down to Ada, who was laughing and pointing at the shop door.

‘Just look at them!’ Ada said and Cecily joined in her laughter.
Passers-by
, seeing the light shining through the shop from the back room, were knocking on the door in the hope of being served. ‘You make the tea,’
Cecily said, unlocking the shop door, ‘and I’ll see to this lot.’ Still wearing her fur-trimmed coat, she served the opportunist customers.

Owen Owen came back, took the cup of tea Ada offered and sank into his chair. Since Mam had gone, he was like a cushion with the stuffing leaked out, Cecily thought sadly. Poor Dadda. He had been so shocked by their mother’s departure he would never get over it.

It hadn’t been the first time she had left them to chase a man whom she thought would offer her more than Owen and the small shop. For a long time Owen thought she would walk back into their lives. He didn’t even know where she was: all attempts at finding her had failed and apart from a couple of letters to tell them she was safe and happy and hoped they were, she was lost to them completely.

He complained as he drank his tea, about having to spend the night in the chair waiting for them to come in, but the girls knew it was not uncommon for him to fail to reach his bed. He would often be found early in the morning, dazed with drink, slumped, still dressed, in the armchair close to the fire.

He had never behaved like this before their mother ran off and seeing him now, empty, hollow, without any emotion except occasional anger, Cecily and Ada felt pity and love for the man. Wordlessly they both bent to kiss him. Still fuddled with drink as he frequently was, he had always looked after Myfanwy for them to go out.

‘Did Van wake at all?’ Ada asked.

‘No, not a sound from her. I went up a few times and covered her up. There’s a fidget that girl is.’ He went up to the bathroom to wash and change and Ada looked at the big wall-clock. ‘There’s no chance of a sleep but I think I’ll bath when Dadda’s finished.’

Cecily yawned and stretched luxuriously. ‘Me too.’

Ada looked at her sister, elder by two years, her closest friend. ‘Want to talk about Danny?’ she asked softly. ‘Seeing him again like that, it must have been a shock.’

‘He only came to see me to make sure he wasn’t making a mistake by marrying someone else,’ Cecily said bitterly. ‘How could he be so unfeeling? Even after seven years I felt insulted. More like a cow in a market, not a human being.’

‘After seven years he couldn’t know he would still affect you so much.’

‘He does now,’ Cecily said with a harsh laugh. ‘Left him in no doubt. He touched me and I felt the same as I did all those years ago. How could he stay away without a word all this time then come back and casually tell me he’s marrying someone called Jessie?’

‘Give me your coat and hat, I’ll take them upstairs.’

Ada went to the back bedroom where six-year-old Myfanwy slept. The little girl was again out of the covers, her rosy cheeks fanned by long eyelashes blinking as Ada stepped into the room. The white counterpane had been folded back and had slipped to the floor. ‘Still too early to rise, lovey,’ Ada whispered. She re-covered the child and tiptoed from the room.

‘Tell me about the dancing, Auntie Ada,’ the sleeping voice pleaded.

‘Later, lovey, when the shop closes, we’ll both tell you all about it.’ She blew a kiss. ‘Cecily,’ she said when she re-joined her sister, ‘I know we’ll be tired, not sleeping last night, but shall we go out again this evening, just for an hour or two? There’s a dance at the Regal Rooms. What d’you say?’ She watched her sister, hoping she would agree. It would be better than her staying home thinking about Danny’s reappearance.

‘If I can stay awake past teatime I say yes, we go. If we can get someone to stay with Van. Dadda’s working, remember.’

There was no time for more than another cup of tea and some toast made in front of the revived fire before they began their day.

‘Mad we were, wasting all that time wandering around over the beach instead of coming home to sleep,’ Ada grumbled as she dragged barrels of goods into the shop porch. It was New Year’s Day but they would open for half of the day. Cecily hung up strings of onions and carried baskets of fruit to the window. Oval dishes containing the stiff, board-like salt-fish were placed in the other window on the marble slab. It was heavy work but they were accustomed to dealing with it, had done so for so long that, as Cecily put it, the jobs were only worth two groans now instead of a dozen. It was something that had to be done.

Inside the shop they displayed dishes of brawn, cooked pigs’ trotters, chitterlings and black pudding, all protected by muslin dipped in vinegar to discourage flies. The shop also had barrels of corn, pigeon food, dog biscuits, lentils, dried peas and rice, a freshly washed scoop in each one. They hung paper bags in bunches in various places around the shop, patted their hair and stood, ready to serve. Owen’s Grocery and Fish was open for business.

Lots of shelves around the shop were empty, wooden boards with their surfaces knobbly and white with constant scrubbing. If only Dadda would let us expand, Cecily thought each morning as she gazed around the wasted spaces, then we could really show what this shop could do. Stubborn he is and won’t even listen to our ideas.

Willie returned and was standing by, waiting to deliver orders and deal with anything heavy. They had told him to stay home and get some sleep but he had refused. Miss Cecily and Miss Ada were his responsibility and he took that very seriously.

‘Willie, what would we do without you?’ Ada smiled at him.

Cecily laughed a lot that day. Determined not to allow the unexpected reunion with Danny to disturb her, she sang and joked and seemed in very high spirits and only Ada noticed how frequently she glanced at the door and how her face fell in disappointment every time it was not Danny who walked in.

When the shop was quiet, which happened too frequently to please Cecily, they went into the living room and watched for customers through the window between the living room and the shop.

‘Sinking for a cuppa I am,’ Ada said, and Cecily turned the kettle on its swivel over the fire where it at once began to murmur. They were both achingly tired but remembering the fun of the previous evening and discussing some of the happy moments, they decided it was worth it. Neither mentioned Danny again.

The clock went slowly: the day seemed neverending. They didn’t close the shop; a few customers might need a few things. It all helped, with
business
so poor. At five o’clock when Van had been given her tea and was playing ‘shops’ with her dolls under the big table – made into a tent with a blanket – Willie came in from the stables.

‘Finished the orders. D’you think I can leave a bit early today?’

‘Of course you can. We told you to finish at midday, didn’t we?’

‘Well, there were a few customers hanging about and the stables needed cleaning.’

‘Thanks for staying,’ Cecily said. ‘And thank you for waiting for us last night. The drive around the beach made a perfect end to the evening. Did your mam mind? You being so late?’

‘No trouble.’ He nodded in the direction of the stables. ‘The horses are fed and everything is put away for the night. See you tomorrow.’

‘Wait,’ Ada called after him. ‘There’s some fresh plaice left. Take it for your mam, will you? Loves a bit of plaice, doesn’t she?’

Willie thanked them and left – to face a situation he had been dreading for more than a week.

The house where Willie lived was a poor one, with a holed, badly leaking roof. The walls were of earth which had once been whitewashed but were now a dirty brown, coloured with lichen and mosses and patches of
strong-smelling
mildew.

It was damp inside and far too small for Willie’s family, but with only the few shillings earned from his job at Owen’s shop and the odd extras from running errands or cleaning stables and grooming horses for the brewery, he couldn’t see the possibility of ever improving their situation.
Now, from the gossip he had picked up, it appeared that his mother was planning to change things.

It was one of the delivery boys from the large and prosperous Waldo Watkins’ grocery store on the main road who had been first to warn him of what was going on at home.

‘Don’t rush home on Wednesdays, Willie Morgan,’ Jack Simmons had jeered. ‘Wednesday’s her busy day. Curtains drawn, door shut tight and never answering a knock. Wouldn’t hear if the fire bell rang next to her gate, she wouldn’t, not on Wednesdays!’

‘What d’you mean?’ Willie had jumped from the cart and grabbed the head of the boy’s horse to stop him then he leaped on Jack and pulled him off his cart and rolled him on the ground.

‘It’s true, Willie Morgan! Your mam’s no better than she should be!’ The hateful words stopped as Willie’s powerful fist hit Jack’s face. Then there were few words, just grunts and shouts of pain as the two young men battered each other almost senseless. A crowd had quickly gathered and formed a ring, calling encouragement to first one then the other as the fight wavered to and fro between the boys.