Homecoming (3 page)

‘I am.'

‘Poor, hard-done-by Sam.'

‘You think I like living with Mike when he can't even remember to buy the essentials?'

‘You could try buying them yourself.'

‘I do, sometimes,' he qualified. ‘But I still have to do every single little thing for myself and it hurts when I come up here and see Martin's whims, never mind needs, lovingly catered for by you. The man lives like a lord, eats like a king …'

‘And works almost every hour God sends.'

Although Lily had inherited the house from her aunt, Martin worked all the overtime he was offered in the council garage where he was employed as a mechanic. Sam had found that strange, until he realised that Martin felt he had to bring as much money home as he could because the house and furniture had been Lily's, not his.

‘We all work hard, even you in the bank.' He lifted the teapot from a shelf, poured a little boiling water in it, and swirled it around to warm it.

‘What do you mean, even me?'

‘You're a woman.'

‘And women are?'

‘Chattels and homemakers. Face it, Lily, you're built to be men comforters.'

‘If I were you, I wouldn't say that around Judy, not even as a joke.' Lifting the pastry from the table, she folded it over, eased it into the pie dish and patted it down.

‘I don't need the warning, I know my woman. Has she said anything to you about opening another salon?'

‘Not since she opened the last one.'

‘She won't be happy until she has a dozen and maybe not even then.' He poured milk into her cup. ‘No sugar, right?'

‘Right.' She took the tea he'd made her and put it on the table. ‘Help yourself to another bun, if you like.'

‘I would like, very much indeed. You know, as landladies go, you're the best I've ever had.'

‘I'm the only one you've ever had.'

‘I was hoping you wouldn't remember that.' Sinking his teeth into his second bun, he looked around the kitchen. Lily and Martin had made a lot of changes since they had taken over the house after Lily's Uncle Roy had married Judy's mother and moved out, and all of them were for the better. Martin had bought Lily every labour-saving gadget on the market, like the Bendix washing machine, Hoover, gas cooker, electric toaster and brand-new, sixty-six guinea, Everest blue Frigidaire he had presented her with on her last birthday, yet somehow Lily had still managed to make the room look warm, cosy and inviting. ‘Good rock buns.' He pushed the last few crumbs into his mouth.

‘If you eat any more, you won't have room for those fish and chips.'

‘You're right. Goodbye, dear buns, I hope to see you tomorrow.' He pushed the top back on the tin and returned it to the shelf. ‘Any messages for Judy?'

‘Only that I'll see her at Jack's party tomorrow. Is Mike going?'

‘He's on shift.' Sam grinned. ‘It was mine but I persuaded him I needed the night off more than him. Do you think Jack will have changed much?'

‘Don't you start, that's all Helen can talk about.'

‘Poor beggar. Two years National Service was more than I could bear. Those extra six months must have felt like a life sentence. Well, no peace for the wicked – and ever hopeful.' He picked up the packet of tea. ‘Thanks for this.'

Martin stood outside the gate at Swansea station and watched passengers stream off the London train. Considering it was a freezing cold evening in March, a surprising number had made the journey. Young men and women who worked in the ‘Smoke' returning for the weekend, an elderly couple burdened with so many parcels they were either bringing presents for half the people in Swansea or had been on a mammoth shopping spree, a couple of students wearing college scarves. He stared at a young man who strode confidently down the platform. He was Jack's height, colouring and build, but the army had changed radically since his day if they allowed National Servicemen to wear their hair that long.

‘Marty.'

He whirled around as someone tapped his shoulder. ‘Jack?' he muttered tentatively, staring at his brother.

‘Have I changed that much?'

‘Only grown a foot and a half and put on about six stone.'

‘Four stone and four inches.'

‘And with a suntan a Hollywood star would envy and an almost bald head.'

‘By army standards this is long.' Jack ran his hand over his regulation short back and sides. ‘If I buy you a pint in the Grand, do you think you could shut your mouth long enough for it to go down?'

‘Try me.' Taking one of the bags Jack was carrying, Martin shook his brother's hand before leading the way across the station yard to the hotel.

Chapter Two

‘So.' Jack moved along the bench seat to make room for his brother when Martin returned from the bar with two pints of beer. ‘What's been happening in Swansea since I left, apart from you marrying Lily, and Katie, Mr Griffiths?'

Too taken aback to absorb Jack's question, Martin continued to stare at his brother. ‘I would have passed you in the street …'

‘Or at a railway station,' Jack broke in dryly.

‘Helen's going to have the shock of her life. She'll never believe it's you.'

‘She'd better.' Jack took the pint Martin gave him. ‘Cheers. And how is my wife?'

‘Fine, or she was last night when I gave Sam a hand to move Judy's dressing table out of your house; that is apart from being in a cleaning frenzy. Everything around her is gleaming. I think Judy only moved out today because she was afraid that if she stayed, Helen would polish her along with everything else.'

‘My house!' Jack sipped his pint. ‘I've only been in it once and that was just after Helen inherited it. It was in a bit of state.'

‘It's not now, but I'm not saying any more or Helen will kill me for spoiling her surprise.' Martin fell serious. ‘She's missed you, Jack. You wouldn't believe how much.'

‘I might.' Jack replaced his glass on the beer mat. ‘I missed her too, you know.'

‘All she's done since you left is work in the warehouse and on the house. Papering, painting, sanding off floorboards and woodwork, sorting the garden …'

‘No trips to the Pier?' Jack's voice was casual but there was a keen look in his eye.

‘Not since the last time we were all there together. I think we outgrew dance halls that night.'

‘I can understand you and Lily doing that,' Jack grinned. ‘You landed on your feet there, boy. Pretty wife with brains enough to work in a bank, furnished house all paid for …'

‘Just like you with Helen. And it was Lily I wanted, not the house or her money.'

‘Keep your hair on. I was only ribbing. I watched you fall in love with the woman when you were six years old. You would have married her when you were still in short trousers if you could have.'

‘We're lucky, Jack,' Martin murmured soberly. ‘Both of us, I don't know what Helen told you in her letters –'

‘I should hope not,' Jack interrupted.

‘I don't mean anything personal. She's done wonders for the trade in her father's warehouse. Expanded the teenage fashion side beyond even her own expectations and they were high.'

‘She wrote me.'

‘I rode your bike over to your house yesterday and put it in the garage. I cleaned it off and gave it a full service. Although I haven't used it much this last year, it's in surprisingly good nick. Not that you'll be using it much either now that Helen has a car.'

‘A car?'

‘She hasn't told you.' Martin hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. ‘That's me in the doghouse for opening my big mouth and saying too much. It's not exactly hers, it belongs to the warehouse, but as she needs it for her job no one else drives it. You won't tell her I told you?'

‘That depends.'

‘On what?'

‘What other secrets you're keeping from me.'

‘Judy and Sam are engaged.' Martin deliberately moved the conversation on.

‘Still? Helen put that titbit in her Christmas letter the year before last. What's the bloke waiting for?' Jack offered Martin a cigarette.

‘I think if it was up to him he'd marry her tomorrow. It's Judy. Since her mother had the baby, Judy's been running the hairdressers. They've opened ten more shops and she insists she hasn't time to think about a wedding let alone plan one.'

‘Sam obviously needs a few hints on how to keep her in line. Women should be in the kitchen not opening shops.'

‘And with Helen working all hours in the warehouse you're the one to give them to him?'

‘Perhaps, after I've had time to remind Helen of her wifely duties.' Jack flicked his lighter and lit Martin's cigarette before his own.

‘I hope, for your sake, you're joking.'

Jack winked. ‘How is Katie?'

‘Happy, and,' Martin took a deep breath, ‘pregnant. The baby is due in a few days.'

Jack scowled. ‘I was in shock for a week after Katie wrote and told me she'd married Mr Griffiths.'

‘Believe me, I went through all the arguments with her at the time.'

‘I would never have given my consent to their marriage.'

‘I don't remember Katie asking for it, or mine come to that.'

‘You gave her away at her wedding. For Christ's sake, Martin, he's my father-in-law.'

‘And brother-in-law.'

‘Don't remind me.' Jack pulled an ashtray towards them.

‘I can't say I was happy about it at the time. It certainly wasn't what I wanted for Katie, but she forced me to accept that it was what she wanted for herself, so I went along with it. And now I can honestly say that since she married Mr Griffiths, I've never seen her happier. Except …'

‘What?' Jack broke in eagerly, too eagerly for Martin's liking.

‘I don't know what you wrote to her because she never showed me any of your letters.'

‘I told her that he was old enough to be her father.'

‘Hardly tactful when she was already married to him. And as I said, they are very happy.'

‘You said “except”,' Jack reminded.

‘She's worried about you and how you'll react when you see them together. She doesn't want anything to change between the two of you, but more than anything she wants you and John Griffiths to be friends.'

‘That's going to be difficult seeing as he's my father-in-law and boss, as well as my brother-in-law.' He looked at Martin. ‘Do I still have a job in the warehouse?'

‘Do you still want one?'

‘To be honest, I don't know. I enjoyed learning to drive in the army and I gained a HGV licence as well as an ordinary one, but I'm not sure I want to carry on working as a driver in civvy street, especially if it means travelling long distances and being away from home for days at a time. I was hoping to use the next couple of weeks to get reacquainted with my wife and think about what I'm going to do with the rest of my life.'

‘The warehouse might be boring after the army.'

‘After the last couple of years I can live with boring.' Jack sank half his pint.

‘Was Cyprus as bloody as everyone says it is?'

‘As I haven't been here, I don't know what they're saying.'

‘I'm sorry about what happened. Have your wounds –'

‘I'm fit,' Jack broke in tersely, ‘which is more than can be said for some of the poor buggers I was with.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘Everyone was – at the time.' Jack emptied his glass and stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Much as I've enjoyed our brotherly chat, I've a wife waiting.'

Following Jack's lead, Martin finished his beer and rose to his feet. ‘Do me a favour, call in on Katie and John.'

‘Now?'

‘You don't have to go in the house. It will only take a minute to tell Katie that you're happy for her and wish them well. Helen will understand.'

‘You're taking a lot upon yourself, speaking for my wife.'

‘She's spent a lot of time with Lily and me since you left, and it wasn't easy for her either, Jack, seeing one of her closest friends marry her father.'

‘So Helen and Katie …'

‘Are still the best of friends.' Martin held the door open for his brother. ‘Please, Jack, don't say anything that will upset anyone, especially Katie in her condition.' He pulled his keys from his pocket as he halted next to a green Hillman Minx parked in front of the Grand.

‘This yours?' Jack asked, as Martin unlocked the driver's door.

Martin failed to hide his pride. ‘I bought it second-hand.'

‘How old?'

‘Eighteen months,' he grinned proudly.

Jack let out a long, low whistle and tossed his bags into the boot. ‘I didn't expect to come home to find my brother with the trappings of the crache.'

‘Hardly.' Martin gunned the ignition as Jack climbed in beside him.

‘First stop Carlton Terrace,' Jack said flatly.

‘Then you'll see Katie.'

‘As she's having my nephew, I suppose I'd better.'

‘Or niece. Thanks, Jack.' Martin glanced at his brother as he halted at the junction between High Street and Alexandra Road. ‘It's good to have you back.'

‘It's good to be back.' Jack settled into his seat and absorbed sights that had been familiar to him all his life. They seemed oddly strange after two summers spent in the blazing sun of Cyprus. But he wasn't missing the warmth, not even on a cold, Swansea, March night.

‘So you think you'll be getting married soon?' Judy tried not to sound overly enthusiastic as she took the cup of coffee Emily handed her. Four out of the five salons she and her mother had bought on mortgages, as opposed to leased, had flats above them and she would have preferred to have taken sole possession of one, but the only empty room was in the one Emily rented.

‘Robin and I have been engaged for fourteen months and with things the way they are … you do know about my father?' Emily sat in the easy chair opposite Judy's.

‘Yes, I'm sorry,' Judy murmured mechanically. The whole of Swansea had heard about Ernest Murton Davies. A year ago he had been counted among the town's wealthiest and most respected citizens, a bank manager who lived in a large house with vast gardens overlooking Caswell Bay, a picturesque and expensive Gower beauty spot. His wife, daughters and son had lived in a style few could aspire to and everyone envied. Helen's brother, Joe, had been briefly admitted to the ‘Murton Davies set' when he had studied at university alongside Emily's brother Laurence. He had talked about their lavish hospitality, servants, swimming pool and trips abroad, but all that had come to an abrupt end when Ernest had been arrested for fraud and embezzlement. It had taken the case six months to reach court. Ernest pleaded guilty and was sentenced to eight years imprisonment, but by then his family had lost everything. The house, furniture and even Mrs Murton Davies's jewellery had been sold to meet the demands of Ernest's creditors. Mrs Murton Davies had retreated to Bournemouth to throw herself and her younger daughters on her sister's charity leaving Emily and Laurence to fend for themselves.

Both Emily and Laurence had been forced to abandon their studies, Laurence in university and Emily at the art college. Now the closest Emily came to anything resembling art was a walk past the Glynn Vivian Gallery on her way to her sales assistant's position in Lewis Lewis's department store, two doors down from the tailor's where Laurence worked.

‘It's been awful for all of us,' Emily confided, ‘but worse for Larry and me because we stayed in Swansea. But I couldn't bear to move away from Robin. I don't know what I would have done without him. He and his family have been marvellous.'

‘I'm sure they have.' Judy couldn't help wondering why Robin Watkin Morgan's family hadn't invited Emily to live with them. It wasn't as though they were cramped for space. Joe had been a frequent visitor to their house and said that besides their twelve bedrooms there was a whole attic floor, which had once been servants' quarters, they never used.

‘Of course, I'll give you as much notice as I can.' Emily set her coffee mug on the shelf next to her. ‘You'll need to get someone else in.'

‘I'm not sure I will.'

‘I thought you'd need the money,' Emily blurted thoughtlessly.

‘I can afford to live alone.'

‘I didn't mean to suggest you couldn't.'

‘No offence taken,' Judy said evenly.

‘And,' Emily looked at the solitaire on Judy's left hand, ‘you'll be getting married yourself soon.'

‘Possibly.'

‘That will be Robin.' Emily jumped to her feet as the doorbell rang, and ran down the stairs to the front door.

Judy carried their cups through to the kitchen. Her flatmate's babbling was interspersed with a slow, masculine drawl. The door closed and Emily darted back up the stairs ahead of a more ponderous step. Judy returned to her chair just as the living room door burst open.

‘Judy, I'd like to introduce my fiancé, Robin Watkin Morgan. Robin, this is my landlady and flatmate, Judith Hunt.'

‘We've met before,' said Judy, stepping back as Robin leaned forward to kiss her cheek. Extending her hand, she kept him at arm's length while he shook it.

‘I hate to disagree with a lady but I would have remembered someone as beautiful as you, Judy.' He gave her a charming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

‘And I hate to disagree with a gentleman, but you were at Joe Griffiths' and Lily Sullivan's engagement party. Not that they were engaged at the end of it.'

‘They weren't, were they?' His smile broadened. ‘Ems said you'd been living with Joe's sister. It must be a hundred years since I've seen the old boy. How is he?'

‘Fine from what I hear.'

‘Living it up in London, eh?'

‘Presumably.'

‘I've just had the most fantastic idea. Why don't you come to the pub with Ems and me? You can fill me in on what's been happening with Joe.'

‘Much as I'd like to, I'm expecting my fiancé.' Judy did something she had never done before; wave her engagement ring under a man's nose.

‘Too late, eh? Well, come on, Ems, you're wasting good drinking time.'

‘I only have to get my coat.'

‘Goodbye, Judy.' Robin reached for her hand. Before she could stop him he lifted it to his lips and kissed it. ‘I hope this is the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship.'