Past Remembering (10 page)

Thank you for the socks and mittens. It is still unbelievably cold here, but rumour has it spring is on the way and I hope I’ll never have to spend another winter away from you, Rachel and Eddie. My son – it’s strange to have a child I’ve never seen. Little did I think when I left you that last morning that we would end up being separated with no hope of seeing one another again until the war is over. Please keep writing, you can have no idea how much your letters mean to me.

Re-reading this I realise I’ve allowed my anger to show through in the beginning, but I am still finding it difficult to get used to the idea of suddenly becoming a father for the second time. If only I could hold you. Then it would be easy to tell you how I feel. Furious
–
but only because I love you and worry about you having to bring up the children on your own.

I love and miss you so very much. Kiss Rachel and Eddie for me, and pray with me every night that this war will soon come to an end.

Your devoted husband Andrew.

PS Mother has written to me. Thank her for the socks and scarf and explain that I can’t write as many letters as I’d like. And try to get up to see her with the children more often. I know things have been difficult between you, but she does adore Rachel, and with me here, and Fiona and Alex in Scotland, you and my father are all the family she has.

Bethan re-read the letter while she finished her tea. The censor hadn’t blacked out any important bits, so she supposed she should be grateful for that much, but she found herself wishing that he’d blacked out the postscript. It infuriated her to think that her mother-in-law could still get to her through Andrew, even when he was in a POW camp in the heart of Germany. What did she care for Andrew’s sister Fiona, and her doctor husband Alex who’d pulled every string he could reach to get a posting to a hospital in Edinburgh the minute war had been declared?

She clutched the letter, scanning for more in between the words. Andrew seemed so remote. The only time she had to miss him in her hectic days was the increasingly brief time between going to bed and sleeping, and even then she was not always alone, because since Eddie’s birth, Rachel had taken to climbing out of her cot and joining her.

A year – a whole year since she’d seen him. How much longer? And what would they both be like when it finally ended?

Chapter Six

‘Heard you paid Jenny Powell a visit,’ Tina greeted Ronnie as he limped into the café. Gina had walked up to the Tumble from the restaurant lower down Taff Street to pass on the gossip. She was far too wary of her older brother to dare mention any scandal concerning him to his face, but Tina had no such qualms.

Ronnie perched on a stool and unfolded the copy of the
Pontypridd Observer
he’d bought off a boy manning the pitch outside the Clarence. ‘I called into her shop for a packet of cigarettes, and as you can see,’ he fingered the lapel on the suit he was wearing, ‘she offered me Eddie’s clothes. As beggars can’t be choosers in these days of rationing, coupons and shortages, I took them.’

‘Rumour has it you’ve a lot more in common than most brother and sister-in-laws.’

‘Mama Mia! You sound just like Mrs Richards,’ he complained as she dumped two cups on the counter and reached for the coffee jug.

‘I can see you’ve just come back from Italy. It used to be “bloody hell” before you went.’

‘Our grandmother objected to anything stronger, and she understood just enough English to know when I was swearing. Haven’t people anything better to do than talk about me? For pity’s sake, I’ve just lost my wife.’

‘Which means you’re available. And virile, eligible men are at such a premium in the town at the moment, you’ll have half the women, married as well as single, flinging themselves at you. So you may as well get used to the attention now.’ She poured out the coffee too vigorously, slopping it into the saucers as well as the cups. ‘And then again, you did have to go and pick on Jenny Powell to talk to, didn’t you?’

‘It’s a bit difficult to buy anything in her shop without talking to her.’

‘Everything Jenny Powell does is of interest to the gossips. She can’t even brush her hair and put on a dab of lipstick without someone spreading the rumour she’s after a new husband. But then, young widows are expected to lead racy lives to entertain their neighbours. As are young widowers,’ she added pointedly.

‘What I can’t understand is how she ended up marrying Eddie Powell,’ he said in an attempt to draw Tina’s attention away from himself. ‘The last I remember she and Haydn were courting strong.’

‘She might have been courting Haydn, but she left your wedding breakfast to go up the mountain with Eddie.’

‘Frankly I was too busy looking at Maud at the time to care what her brothers and their girlfriends were doing.’

‘Then when Haydn left Pontypridd to go on stage, she well and truly sank her claws into Eddie.’

‘“Sank her claws?” Since when have you joined Mrs Richards’s gossipers’ club?’ he asked as she handed him the milk jug and sugar shaker.

‘I’d hate to see you get tarnished by Jenny’s reputation.’

‘Her reputation? Have I missed something here, like Jenny forcing Eddie to marry her at gunpoint?’

‘No one really knows what happened except that she kissed Haydn outside the church after she married Eddie in a way no sister-in-law should. And everyone, including me, saw it. Tony told me the next day that he saw Eddie drinking until two in the morning. Jenny was nowhere in sight, and considering it was their wedding night -’

‘More fool Tony,’ Ronnie broke in, ‘because there’s nowhere legal you can drink until that hour.’

‘You never stop playing the big brother, do you?’ Tina complained, irritated by his interruption.

‘Someone has to with our tribe.’

‘Our tribe is in Birmingham with our mother. Gina and I are married women. Responsible adults who work and run businesses as well as homes.’

‘You were telling me about Eddie and Jenny,’ he reminded her, refusing to quarrel.

‘And you weren’t listening. God! I’d forgotten just how infuriating you can be!’ The steamer began to hiss, she opened it up, took out the pie inside, slapped it on to a plate and carried it into the back room for a customer.

‘I’m listening now, always presuming there’s a point to this story of yours,’ he said when she returned.

‘There is a point, and it concerns you. The day after the wedding, Eddie left Jenny with her parents and returned to live in his father’s house in Graig Avenue. A couple of days after that he attacked Haydn, punching him through a plate-glass window in town, breaking his leg and cutting his face and head really badly. Haydn was in the cottage hospital for days. Trevor and Andrew said he was lucky to have survived. Before Haydn even left hospital, Eddie disappeared. We found out afterwards he’d joined the Guards. He only came back once on leave before he was killed, and that was when Jenny’s mother died.’

‘Thank you for the news report, but what’s all this got to do with me?’

Tina narrowed her eyes and repeated the gossip exactly as she’d heard it. ‘‘‘Ronnie Ronconi was seen taking off his clothes in Jenny Powell’s front bedroom this morning. And the shop door was locked. Something Jenny has never done before during opening hours.”’

‘And where did you hear that bit of spicy tittle-tattle?’ His voice was soft, controlled, but his hands trembled as he picked up the coffee in front of him.

‘Old Mrs Evans who lives above the fruit shop opposite saw you in the bedroom, she told Mrs Richards, who caught you coming out of Jenny’s private rooms. Mrs Evans went to the restaurant this morning to order a cake for Mrs Jones’s daughter’s wedding …’

‘And no doubt by now all three ladies have relayed the story, with embellishments, to the entire Graig. Did Mrs Evans also say that the bed in the room I was in was dismantled, and Jenny was only with me for a few minutes? I told you, Jenny offered me Eddie’s clothes. She took me upstairs to see them. Amazing as this may sound, they were in a wardrobe in a bedroom, not one of the kitchen cupboards.’

‘But you undressed?’

‘Not in front of Jenny. Eddie might be dead, but as far as I could tell from my brief visit, Jenny was nowhere near frustrated enough to sink her claws into my battered body. Of course if I’d known Mrs Evans was watching I might have removed my underpants as well as my shirt to give her a real thrill.’

‘I doubt she would have survived the experience.’

‘I needed clothes,’ he reiterated. ‘Jenny offered me Eddie’s. There was no point in taking them if they didn’t fit, so I tried them on, and it’s difficult to do that without undressing.’

‘I’m only telling you to be more careful in future. You know how people talk.’

‘Apparently even my own sister.’

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ she snapped back.

‘What’s to warn me about? Jenny offered me clothes, which I gratefully accepted.’

‘Just as long as it is only Eddie’s clothes she’s expecting you to fill.’

‘That’s not the kind of remark I ever expected to hear from a sister of mine.’

‘I told you, Ronnie, we’ve grown up since you went away.’

‘Crudely.’

‘Save the lectures for the little ones when they come home. Gina and I don’t take kindly to being told what to do, say or think any more.’

‘What do you mean, “any more”? You never did a damned thing Papa and I told you to do when I was home.’

‘Can you blame us when you expected us to behave like nuns?’ She picked up a rag and began polishing the tea urn.

‘You may as well finish what you started so we can get it over with,’ he advised, hoping to diffuse her anger before it erupted into a full-blown argument.

‘Considering the reception you’ve given my warnings, I rather think I have.’

‘Come on, get it out in the open.’

‘It’s nothing I can prove, so I’d rather not say anything.’

‘You’ve gone this far, what’s another bit of scandal?’

‘I’ve heard that Jenny’s carrying on with Alexander Forbes, Evan Powell’s conchie lodger. Some even say she was doing it before Eddie was killed.’

‘She’s a widow, she’s entitled to see anyone she wants to.’ He didn’t know why he was defending Jenny. Eddie’d been killed at Dunkirk, the telegram couldn’t have come much before nine months ago. Maud had been dead twice as long and he couldn’t imagine ‘carrying on’ with anyone.

‘That’s just it, she isn’t seeing him.’

‘So how can she be carrying on with him? Through radio waves or out-of-body experiences?’

‘Mrs Evans spotted a man with fair hair sneaking around the Factory Lane side of the shop late at night, and …’

‘You believe her?’

‘It was obvious that things had gone wrong between Jenny and Eddie. If it hadn’t been for the state of their marriage, Eddie would never have volunteered to join the Guards in the first place.’

‘Thousands are dying every day,’ he asserted harshly. ‘If Eddie hadn’t died at Dunkirk, there’s no guarantee he would have survived the war.’

‘I just don’t want to see you fall for someone like Jenny Powell who’s already ruined one man’s life.’

‘The only ruin I can see is Jenny’s reputation at the hands of Mrs Richards and Mrs Evans.’

‘You’re my brother. Much as you irritate me, I wouldn’t like to see you get hurt.’

‘I’ve managed to live the last thirty-two years without your help, and I have every intention of avoiding Jenny’s and any other designing woman’s claws.’

‘I’m serious, Ronnie. You’ve no idea how starved of male company the women are in this town. A lot of girls are going to be looking your way. And a widower, even one in your condition, has to be a better proposition than those too old or young to be called up.’

‘You’re missing William that much?’ he asked perceptively.

‘Every minute of every day. It’s bad enough for me and Alma; it’s worse for women like Bethan who are trying to bring up children without their fathers. The hardest is not even knowing where our husbands are. Every time there’s fighting I imagine William and Tony lying injured somewhere, with no one to care for them.’

‘Look at it logically, Tina. When it comes to self-preservation, comfort and caring for number one, William’s an expert. If there’s fighting, he’s got enough sense to keep his head down, and you told me Tony’s probably still somewhere in this country. Can’t you see that because everyone’s under a lot of strain in the town, they’re generating this doom-laden atmosphere?’

‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘And I’m here now, so you don’t have to go on doing everything yourself. Use me to take some of the load off your shoulders.’

She gazed at him earnestly, seeking reassurance. ‘You’ve lived in Europe, you know what it’s like over there. The war can’t go on much longer, can it?’

‘If we don’t get help, it might be over sooner than we’d like.’

‘You don’t think we’re going to lose!’

‘How long do you think this one small island can hold out against the rest of the world? I’ve lived under the Fascists, seen London flattened by bombs. Our troops are stretched on every front.’

‘There’s talk of the Americans coming in on our side.’

‘Why should they, when there’s nothing in it for them?’

‘So what do you suggest we do? Surrender?’

‘Of course not. We’ll go on fighting as best we can, because it’s the only real option open to us. Which is why I went to see Dr Evans this morning. Thanks to the papers I had from the RAF I’m no longer regarded as an enemy alien. They’re allowing me to work in the munitions factory.’

‘Not with your wounds, surely?’

‘I can start as soon as my injuries have healed. And it’s my hands not my legs they want. Like me with Eddie’s clothes, they’re grateful for what they can get.’ He finished his coffee and pushed his cup across the counter. ‘Until then I’m offering you my services as a counter hand.’

‘You work for me?’ she scoffed.

‘Why not?’

‘Fine, you can start right now. There’s a mountain of potatoes that need peeling in the kitchen,’ she ordered, not expecting him to make a move. She wasn’t disappointed.

‘First thing tomorrow morning, after we’ve negotiated my wages.’

‘All meals plus a pound a week?’

‘That will do until I start in the munitions factory.’

‘My God, you really are serious, aren’t you?’

‘About helping out, yes.’

‘Maud changed you that much?’

‘She gave me the happiest years of my life,’ he said simply. ‘But do me a favour, Tina. No more gossip. Since Maud died I’m not sure who I am, or where I’m going, but one thing I do know is that there’s no room for another woman in my life. Not now, and not ever.’

‘In that case you’d better go up to Bethan’s with me tonight. And before you ask, Gina and Luke are taking over the café.’

‘Why do I have to go to Bethan’s?’

‘She’s having a party for Charlie, and Alma and Jenny will be there. If you start treating both of them as family, it might silence the gossips on two counts.’

Her conscience pricked by Andrew’s letter, Bethan waited only as long as it took Rachel to wake from her afternoon nap. After washing and dressing both children in their best clothes, she packed Rachel and the baby into the back of the car and drove slowly through the town and up the hill to the Common and Andrew’s father’s house.

She had timed her visit to coincide with afternoon tea, because she knew Dr John made an effort to be home at that hour. Her relationship with Andrew’s mother had never been cordial for the simple reason that Mrs John considered a miner’s daughter an unsuitable wife for her son. His father was different. One of only two doctors left in the town, their newly won mutual respect was founded as much in their present, professional association as their personal relationship. But unfortunately for her, Andrew’s parents weren’t the only ones sitting in the over-furnished drawing room the maid showed her into. Her mother-in-law’s close friend, Mrs Llewellyn-Jones, and her spoilt, but extremely fashionable and attractive daughter, Anthea, were taking tea with them.

The first time Andrew had taken her home, Mrs John had gone to great pains to let her know that Anthea Llewellyn-Jones had been earmarked as her prospective daughter-in-law. Even now, Bethan occasionally had the feeling that Mrs John hadn’t quite given up on the hope that she would die young, or have an affair, so Andrew could divorce her and marry a woman of his own class. Someone just like Anthea.

All four of them were sipping tea and eating slices of sponge cake smothered in jam and butter icing as though they hadn’t even heard there was a war on.