Nothing is Forever (3 page)

‘Come on, wake up, Aunty, we’ll get you onto the couch till we can find a taxi.’

‘Don’t tell me I haven’t got a bed?’ Aunty Blodwen wailed. ‘You can’t turn me out in the middle of the night. March it is and freezing out there. I’ll catch my death, girl!’

Ruth smiled and with a young man, whom she didn’t know, helping her, she guided her aunt up the stairs and into her own bedroom. ‘You’d best sleep here tonight. I’ll sort out a bed for myself when that lot downstairs finally leave.’ She pointed down behind her with a thumb.

The young man looked doubtful. ‘Leaving? Settled for the night most of them,’ he said.

Aunty Blod undressed with Ruth’s help and was soon producing gentle snores. Ruth sighed and wondered how many more hours it would be until she could do the same.

In fact she didn’t go to bed at all. Too tired to find a blanket and find an unoccupied place to sleep, she sat in the kitchen on the old couch they had been meaning to throw away for months, and dozed, in between people coming in and out for drinks and a bite to eat until three o’clock, when it finally went quiet. She stayed there until seven o’clock in the morning.

Her first thought on waking and remembering the reason for her unusual position was guilt for not making sure Henry had been told about the wedding. She must try and reach him today. He deserves an explanation even though it wouldn’t sound very convincing.

The morning was more chaotic than the day before. Tommy and Toni, Bryn and Brenda were difficult to rouse.

‘Give us another hour, Ruth, it isn’t a long journey’ Tommy muttered, when she banged on the bedroom door at eight o’clock.

‘No panic, Sis,’ Bryn said sleepily when she tried to call him. ‘It isn’t all that far.’

‘Emrys and Susan are up and on their way back to Bridgend,’ she called to them.

‘Good on ’em,’ both brothers muttered in unison.

The friends sleeping in the living-room asked very politely if they could have a cup of tea and maybe some toast. A sleepy figure uncurled from behind the couch, someone she hadn’t noticed before, and asked sleepily if he could please have the same, before falling back out of sight. Glad to be busy, Ruth obliged but warned them it would be toast with Marmite or jam without butter or margarine. The ration wasn’t large enough to share and she’d borrowed on next week’s to provide food for the wedding.

‘Come on, get a move on,’ Ruth called to the four an hour later.

‘No rush, Sis.’

‘Not for you maybe, but I have work to do. There’s all this mess to sort out after I’ve fed you,’ Ruth protested mildly.

‘Manage fine you will. A marvel you are, our Ruth.’

There was a knock at the back door and she ran down to open it. ‘Henry! I’m so glad to see you. Sorry you couldn’t make it in time for Tommy’s wedding; it was all such a rush. They didn’t give me any time to plan it properly – you know what those two are like.’ He didn’t respond at once and she stood, wondering how to make her explanation sound genuine. ‘I rang one of the hotels where you usually stay, but I’m so sorry, I didn’t think to ask your mother to pass on the message. I’m so sorry, but it was such a rush,’ she repeated lamely.

‘Can I come in?’ He smiled and she thought it seemed as artificial as hers had been all through the day before. ‘I’ve just driven through the night from Porthmadog. Sorry I didn’t make the wedding. I only heard yesterday, from my assistant. Why didn’t you write to one of the places I was staying, I’d given you the addresses and dates?’

‘No time for writing and anyway, I lost the list you gave me, in all the muddle of getting things done.’

‘I see.’ He stared at her and she knew he had been hurt by her negligence. ‘And about forgetting lunch with my mother?’

‘I’m so sorry, I’ll write to her and explain.’

‘I did try to get here, I would have liked to have been there to see Tommy and Toni married, join the celebration. I would have cancelled my appointments if I’d been told. It went well, did it?’

‘Meagre food, but everything else was fine.’

‘I’d have come, you know that, Ruth. Why didn’t you tell me?’

She was saved a reply.

‘I’m sinking for a cuppa. Any chance of some breakfast, our Ruth?’ Tommy called, as he walked down the stairs. ‘Oh, hello, Henry. Where were you? You missed a good party.’

Henry looked at Ruth and shrugged.

‘I’m waiting for Toni, Bryn and Brenda to get up,’ she said. ‘If you can wait, you can eat with us.’

‘I thought Tommy and Toni had booked an hotel. Nothing went wrong, did it?’

‘Only too much alcohol and not enough sense! They all stayed here last night. And they’re all going to Aberaeron together!’

Henry gave his loud, infectious laugh. ‘Sharing a honeymoon with your brother, Tommy? And no special first night at the hotel? There’s something wrong with you, man.’ Tommy nodded in happy agreement and went back upstairs. Henry moved towards Ruth, put his arms around her and kissed her lightly. ‘We’ll arrange things differently when you marry me. If only you’d stop pushing me away and say yes.’

‘I can’t think about it yet.’

‘First the boys were too young; then they couldn’t be expected to give up their home, and you couldn’t expect them to share it with me, then you had to wait until they were all married and away from home. What is it now, Ruth?’

‘Give me time to get over all this, please, Henry. My head’s all over the place. I’ve been so busy organizing Tommy’s wedding, and now have to find my way of coping without them all.’

Henry looked at her a half smile on his face. ‘Then, the cat’s only twelve, she might live for a couple more years,’ he said, with gentle sarcasm. ‘Then there’ll be nieces and nephews. When are you going to find time for yourself? For us?’

‘Henry, I’m sorry but—’ She was again saved from replying by a bump from above them. ‘Sounds like someone has fallen out of bed, I hope it isn’t Aunty Blod!’ She hurried to the stairs and ran up calling to ask if anyone was hurt. Reassured, she turned back to Henry, but he was gone. He had driven off to one of his favourite places in which to sit and think.

Henry owned three shops selling antiques. One was run by his mother, Rachel, one sold only ordinary second-hand items, mostly furniture and was run by part-time staff. The other, selling more expensive quality items was where he lived and he left it in the care of Tabitha Bishop when he was away buying stock. He had known Ruth since they were children and had always assumed they would marry, but with her insistence that she had to look after her brothers they were still without any firm plans. He wanted marriage and children and there was no one else for him but Ruth and he doubted whether there ever would be.

The four honeymooners finally left at midday. Aunty Blod helped by tidying up the kitchen and dealing with the left over food, then they sat with a cup of tea wondering where to start on the rest. Ruth was about to ask Blod what time she was leaving when that lady asked, ‘Ruth, love, you wouldn’t mind if I stay all next week, would you? The decorators are starting tomorrow and it won’t be very pleasant having them push me here and there as they do the repairs. Then there’ll be the painting and a new window’s going in where Emrys chopped some firewood and sent a piece flying through the pane. Everything is packed away ready for them and the landlord will be supervising.’

‘Good,’ Ruth said jumping up and reaching for the vacuum cleaner. ‘That’s the incentive I need to get me going. Come on, Aunty, we’ll start by getting a room ready for you.’

Aunty Blodwen was ready to leave at five o’clock, when she asked, ‘What’s happening about this house now the brothers are all gone? It belongs to all five of you. So will you sell it and share the money?’

‘No. The boys discussed this ages ago and they all agreed that I can stay here until I choose to leave. If I decide to stay, then after my time it’ll be sold and the money shared between the brothers and any children.’

‘Things have changed. They’ll be glad of the money now they’re married, won’t they?’

‘They’re grateful for the way I stayed and kept home for them. None of them wants me to have to leave. Besides, Ty Gwyn is still their base, it’s the family home and has been since our grandparents’ time; I don’t think they want to see it go to strangers.’

‘Now they’re setting up their own homes, though … Can you sit here on their inheritance, knowing they need it?’

‘We had a couple of valuations a few years ago and to be honest, they didn’t think the amount was worth tipping me out for. There won’t be much more than one hundred pounds each after bills are settled, so they’re happy to let me stay.’

‘Unless you marry Henry.’

‘The way I feel now, I’d be marrying for the wrong reasons. I can’t marry Henry because I don’t like living alone, or because the boys want to sell the house, can I?’

The bus took her aunt away at last and Ruth took a deep breath as she went back into the empty house. She couldn’t shut the door. If she did she would be shutting herself away from the world and now the boys were gone, the world wouldn’t be coming in. She propped the door open with a couple of bricks painted and left there for the purpose and went into the kitchen. Even that had lost its comforting feel. Being here alone wasn’t going to be easy.

Henry came that evening and, as usual, Ruth couldn’t decide whether she was relieved to see him or not. They had been seeing each other regularly for years, but had never reached the stage when marriage was a certainty. Henry popped the question from time to time but she had always used the excuse of looking after her brothers. She wondered whether the wait had been too long and the pot had gone off the boil.

She told herself she wasn’t sure of his love, but that wasn’t true. The true reason, which she tried to deny, was not being here when her brothers needed her. That commitment to their welfare would always be there.

The second reason was her doubts about her feelings toward Henry. Did she really love Henry, or was it just a habit, a convenient way of planning for a future in which she didn’t have to cope alone? She wasn’t even sure what love really meant. Her parents had argued all the time, some times violently, and they had frightened her as a small child with their fights. Yet they had stayed together and between their frequent disagreements, they seemed content. There had been occasions when their happiness and laughter had filled the house, but those moments were rare and the strongest memories were the bad times.

More recently she had seen her four brothers fall in love and marry and those relationships had overridden memories of the fights between her parents to a certain extent. Any marriage was taking a chance, she was convinced of that. Even with the obvious happiness of her four brothers and their wives she knew it wasn’t the same for her and Henry. Perhaps they had waited too long.

She cleaned and tidied the house and washed the bedding, and threw out the oddments of leftover food into a bin for next door’s chickens. The day ended, darkness came and, with it, the dread of the night alone in the large house for the first time in her life. It was with reluctance that she closed the door.

She didn’t want to waste electricity by burning the light all night but couldn’t face the utter darkness. She lit a candle and set it in a dish beside her bed. It’s flickering light didn’t really help. A movement of the flame set her wondering whether there was a draught from an open door to account for it.

Restless and a little afraid, she rose three times and went down the stairs carrying the candle as well as switching on the landing light. Each time, she checked every door and window but nothing had changed. At four she made a cup of cocoa and at five she gave up trying to sleep and made tea and toast, sitting on the old couch to eat it, an electric fire glowing in front of yesterday’s ashes.

Jack had been in the area for a couple of months. He had escaped from his previous address just ahead of a police inquiry and with just enough cash to survive for a month. He had eked out his money by scrounging from other men sleeping rough and stealing when an opportunity arose. It was mostly food he took, but once he had found a purse temptingly easy to pick up and on two occasions an open window had enabled him to reach inside and take an ornament which he then sold when he was far enough away from where it had been taken. It was so easy. He laughed when he thought about it and his confidence grew.

In 1954 people still left keys hanging down behind their letterboxes and on that day in March, he risked entering a house after seeing a woman and three children leaving it and getting on a bus. Entering a house was something he swore never to do again, but he had nowhere to sleep and he was very hungry. He watched the bus stop and the family of mother and three children get in and find seats. He waited for a few minutes then pulled the key on its chain through the letter box and let himself him.

He went silently up the stairs and looked in drawers, carefully opening them and more carefully closing them again. With luck he wouldn’t leave evidence of his presence and anything missing would be presumed to be carelessness. A bank book was under some clothes and inside was a pound note and five shillings in coins. Pocketing the money he continued the search. Downstairs he went into what was obviously the best room with its table and three-piece suite and sideboard. It smelled of polish with a slight tinge of dampness. In the sideboard were three books; insurance, rent book and one marked coal and gas. Another three pounds. Without intending to go in – it was time to leave – he looked around the door of the living-room and to his horror saw an old man sitting near the fire.

‘That you, Dolly? What did you forget this time?’

Jack ran and didn’t stop until there were three streets between him and the old man. He travelled a long way that day, even using some of his money to go a few miles by bus, then, as darkness was falling, he found a barn and slept cosily and without any qualms of conscience. He was used to getting up with the dawn and as soon as a pale light appeared in the sky he was on his way before the farmer was aware of his presence.

In a café, he took out the notebook he carried and marked off another town on his list. No luck so far, but he felt sure he was in the right area. Today might be the day, he told himself, as he did every morning as, relaxed after a good night’s sleep and with a full belly, his confidence was at its height.