Authors: Catrin Collier
‘Didn’t I?’ Jane answered carelessly, feigning nonchalance to conceal her shock.
‘He looks cold, but then he would, wouldn’t he, after living in all those hot countries?’
‘I don’t know about cold, Sally, but I wouldn’t mind a pair of gold earrings like the ones those girls are wearing, or one of those fur coats, now that brass monkey weather’s arrived.’
‘They look extremely unpatriotic,’ Jenny dismissed. ‘No one should make such a display of themselves when clothes are rationed and there’s barely enough food to put on the table.’
‘They could be pre-war,’ Sally suggested.
‘And I could be a flying pig.’
Jane didn’t hear a word they said. She’d had another letter from Haydn yesterday, but like the last time, she’d only read the first paragraph in which he’d complained that he’d received hardly any of her letters. Little did he know that she hadn’t written any for the last two months, for him to receive.
‘Here you are, four sherries and two beers.’ Judy dumped them on the table. ‘I’ll just go back and get mine.’
Jane picked up her sherry and drank it down in one.
‘Steady …’ Jenny warned.
‘I’m thirsty. Anyone else want another one?’
‘I’ll get them,’ Ronnie offered, giving her a sideways look as he walked to the bar.
‘I could buy you a new one.’
‘I want this one.’
‘The lady’s got taste, if you don’t mind me saying so, sir. That’s a fine diamond and it’s cleaned up beautifully. You won’t find quality like that in a new one, not in wartime.’
‘You see,’ Myrtle smiled as Huw slipped his mother’s engagement ring on to her finger.
‘What do I owe you?’
‘It was pleasure to renovate such an outstanding piece,’ the jeweller fawned.
‘You expect us to buy the wedding ring from you?’ Huw asked shrewdly.
‘Well it just so happens I have one tray left of nonutility, high carat rings.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Twenty-two carat, not nine. Although government regulations force me to stock the utility range, take my word for it, they’re rubbish. But these will last until your golden wedding.’ Like a conjuror producing a rabbit from a hat, he reached under the counter and lifted a velvet stand on to the glass counter.
‘They’re beautiful,’ Myrtle gasped.
‘Aren’t they?’ The jeweller gloated visibly at his success in hooking and landing his catch.
‘Pick whichever you like,’ Huw offered generously.
‘You choose,’ Myrtle demurred.
‘You know me by now: I’ll go for the most expensive because I’ve been a cheapskate over the engagement ring.’
‘If I may suggest -’ the jeweller took the widest band, and incidentally the most expensive, from its bed. ‘It will be a perfect fit, madam.’
Huw looked down and saw the sparkle in Myrtle’s eyes. It was enough for him. ‘We’ll take it.’
‘Huw! You haven’t even asked how much it is.’
‘You like it?’
‘I love it.’
‘Then it’s yours. This was the easy -part. Now we have to face your father,’ he whispered as the jeweller went to look for boxes.
‘You know something? For the first time in my life I’m not afraid of him.’
He smiled at her as he pocketed the ring box. ‘Good, because from now on I’ll allow no one, not even him, to upset you.’
‘Jane, let’s go up to my house.’ Jenny tried to stop her from opening her handbag to look for her purse. ‘I’ll make us some coffee.’
‘I don’t want coffee,’ Jane protested noisily.
‘What you don’t want is any more to drink.’
‘Leave the girl alone,’ Judy interposed, peeved because she’d got absolutely nowhere with Alexander. ‘She’s worked hard and she’s entitled to a bit of fun.’
‘She has to work tomorrow, and she can’t do that with a hangover.’ Jenny looked over to the bar, trying to catch Ronnie or Alexander’s eye, but it was hopeless, they were too engrossed in conversation.
‘If I want another drink, I’ll have one,’ Jane declared, swaying precariously over the table as she tried to leave her chair.
‘I’ll get them.’ Jenny picked up her handbag.
‘It’s my round,’ Maggie objected.
‘You can catch up tomorrow,’ Making her way to the bar, Jenny reached out to touch Ronnie’s arm just as Alexander moved between them. He turned and stared at her in surprise.
‘Jane’s drunk,’ she muttered, but not too low for Ronnie to hear. ‘I think she should go home.’
‘Jane?’ Ronnie repeated in astonishment. ‘Quiet, mousy Jane?’
‘If you think that, you don’t know her.’
‘She’s normally so responsible. What on earth possessed her?’ Alexander asked.
‘One of the girls has been plaguing her with photographs of Haydn and his other women.’
‘And there’s certainly been enough of those in the papers lately. He’s a dull bugger to pose for them,’ Ronnie flatly condemned his brother-in-law.
‘That isn’t going to help me get her home.’
Alexander looked across to where Jane was holding forth, eyes feverish, hands gesticulating wildly. ‘I’ll slip across to station yard and get a taxi.’
‘Would you? I’ll never manage her on my own, and as she’s working tomorrow, she really ought to sleep it off.’
‘I’ll give you a hand to get her outside.’ Ronnie returned with her to the table.
‘Look girls, a man.’ Maggie grabbed Ronnie’s arm. ‘I was beginning to think you were an extinct breed like the dodos they told us about in school.’
‘You’re looking at one of the last who’s brave enough to hazard female company. Sorry, ladies, but I’m going to have to break up this happy gathering. I’m here to escort Mrs Powell to a party.’
‘There’s a party?’ Jane tried and failed to focus on Ronnie.
‘Family party, tonight. Don’t tell me you’d forgotten?’
‘Just one more drink …’
‘We’ll be late, and then Bethan will be mad with us. Tell you what, I’ll bring some bottles. Alex has gone to get a taxi, Jenny’s coming.’ He took her arm and helped her to her feet. ‘This your coat and handbag?’
She nodded, fighting back the tide of nausea that threatened to engulf her as the room swayed.
‘Then let’s go.’
Alexander had asked the taxi driver to drive the gas-powered vehicle across the Tumble and park it in front of the Hart. It was just as well. Jane’s legs were going out from under her before Jenny and Ronnie even got her to the door. Jenny breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the enormous gas balloon, looking for all the world like an enormous carbuncle on the roof of the waiting car. Even with Ronnie’s help she felt she couldn’t have hauled Jane another yard.
Alexander climbed in first, dragging Jane behind him. After a moment’s hesitation Jenny sat beside her.
‘You coming, Ronnie?’
‘With all that crumpet sitting neglected and lonely in there? No chance,’ he winked. ‘See you later, Jane. Hope you’re soon feeling better.’
Concerned in case Jane passed out, Jenny and Alexander watched her anxiously. They had no time to look out of the window, and that’s how they missed Haydn walking down the hill.
Indignant and furious at what he’d already decided was his wife’s blatant neglect of their child, and him, Haydn walked through the bars of the White Hart, until he finally ended up in the back room. He stared at the crowd of women sitting around the centre table in amazement, then he heard someone call his name.
‘Don’t you recognise me?’
‘Ronnie, you look a damned sight better than when I last saw you.’ Haydn turned away and continued to scan the room. ‘I was hoping to find Jane here.’
‘She left a couple of minutes ago.’
‘But I walked down the hill. I couldn’t have missed her.’
‘She took a taxi with Jenny and Alex. Look, as you’re here have a drink with me.’
‘Who’s Alex?’
‘Your father’s lodger. Between me and you, I think he’s sweet on Jenny,’ he added, seeing a jealous light in Haydn’s eye.
‘Eddie’s only just been killed.’
‘A year and a half ago,’ Ronnie reminded him as tactfully as he knew how. ‘What are you having?’
‘Some other time. I’ve only got a seventy-two-hour pass and I was hoping to spend some of it with my wife.’
‘It is … it’s Haydn … Haydn Powell!’
Haydn screwed his face into a pained expression before turning to face the women. Ronnie had never seen such a change in a man within the space of a few seconds. Haydn beamed, as though he’d only come home to see his fans.
A crowd of girls pushed their way through the bar towards him, as they groped in their handbags for pencils and paper.
‘Visiting your wife?’ Judy asked snidely as he backed towards their table, signing autographs.
‘That’s right.’
‘We weren’t sure you’d want to.’ She folded over the newspaper she’d shown Jane.
Haydn recognised the
Daily Mirror.
He’d already seen the latest photograph of himself and the Simmonds girls splashed over the front page. It had been lying on an empty chair, and that was when he began to wonder.
‘Oh boy, have you had a skinful,’ Bethan said as Alexander and Jenny carried Jane through the door. ‘Here Alex, I’ll take over and get her upstairs.’
‘I’ll help,’ Phyllis offered.
‘Can I do anything?’ Jenny hovered in the passage hoping Phyllis would say no, so she could leave. She hadn’t been alone with Alexander since he’d fallen from her window, and she had no intention of talking to him now if she could help it.
‘You can start by telling us how much she’s had,’ Bethan called down the stairs.
‘About six sherries. Unfortunately she drank them in about half an hour.’
‘Could be worse.’
‘Put the kettle on and make some coffee, will you please, Jenny?’ Phyllis asked as she ran up after Bethan.
‘She’ll soon sleep off six sherries,’ Bethan declared as Phyllis slipped off Jane’s shoes. ‘It’s probably worse because she drank them quickly on an empty stomach.’
‘It’s worse than you think. Haydn arrived a couple of hours ago,’ said Phyllis.
‘Where is he?’
‘He went down the Hart to find her. He was none too pleased when he discovered Jane was working, and even less pleased when I told him she was probably in the Hart. I dread to think how he’ll react when he sees her in this state.’
‘Oh well, there’s nothing like hitting a man right between the eyes.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
‘Don’t worry. If you can put up with me a bit longer, I’ll talk him out of his mood. Here, give me a hand to undress her and get her into bed.’
Ignoring Alexander, Jenny lifted the kettle from the stove and went into the washhouse.
‘You’re looking well,’ he ventured when she returned.
‘I am, thank you,’ she replied stiffly.
‘I’ve been wanting to talk to you.’
‘Not enough to climb up to my bedroom window again, I hope?’
‘I’m sorry about that.’
‘Not as sorry as I am. Have you any idea how much it cost to repair that down-pipe?’
‘Send me the bill and I’ll pay it.’
‘If you’re feeling generous I’d like the gossips silenced as well.’
‘One good thing came out of it. I talked to Evan. He doesn’t mind us going out together.’
‘And because my father-in-law has no objections, you’ve already decided we can carry on where we left off?’
‘Jenny, I’m sorry I embarrassed you. Please, couldn’t we at least talk?’
She hesitated.
‘Perhaps we could go to the cinema one night this week, or the theatre, or the New Inn? Anywhere you want. I promise I won’t mention engagements or marriage, not unless you bring up the subject.’
‘No,’ she answered slowly. ‘Between work and supervising the shop I really don’t have time for much else.’
‘Just an outing …’ The front door opened and Evan walked in, black and grimy from the pit, in sharp contrast to the immaculately uniformed Haydn who followed close behind him.
‘Jenny?’ Evan greeted her in surprise. ‘How nice to see you. I hope you’re staying for tea.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t. Some of the girls are coming round, but thank you for asking. I only called in with Jane. Haydn, you’re looking well. It’s good to see you home.’
‘Is Jane here?’ Haydn asked as she picked up her coat.
‘Upstairs. But I wouldn’t go up right now if I were you. Phyllis and Bethan are with her.’
‘What’s the matter with her?’ He walked down the passage to see Jenny out. ‘Is she ill?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘What do you mean, not exactly?’ he demanded angrily.
‘She’s had a bit too much to drink.’
‘Are you telling me my wife is drunk!’
‘It’s hard on all the women in munitions. Having to work long hours in foul conditions, and it’s worse for Jane. Every break-time at least one girl taunts her with photographs of you and those two blonde floozies …’
‘Thank you for bringing her home.’ Haydn opened the door.
Jenny would have liked to say more, but the ghost of their old courtship and Eddie stood between them. She looked up, and saw Alexander standing in the passageway behind Haydn. ‘Goodbye, Haydn. If I don’t see you again, have a good leave.’
‘Wait!’ Alexander called out. Grabbing his coat he ran after her. Haydn watched them go, then closed the door as Phyllis walked down the stairs.
‘How drunk is she?’ he enquired acidly.
‘She only had a couple of sherries; the trouble is they were on an empty stomach.’
‘And how often has this happened before?’
‘This is the first time,’ Phyllis countered indignantly.
He waited until she reached the bottom of the stairs before running up them and along the landing to his old bedroom. Bethan was pulling the eiderdown over Jane. She smiled and put her finger to her lips.
‘If she’s plastered she’s not going to hear anything,’ he asserted.
‘She’s only had a couple, Haydn.’
‘I get my first leave for nine months, and I come home to find my baby with Phyllis, my wife not only working but drunk -’
‘You sound like a pompous, self-righteous schoolmarm. ‘
‘I have a right to.’
‘Right? What about Jane’s rights? She’s worked hard since you left her here. She’s often stopped off for a drink on the way home with the girls, and this is the first time I’ve seen her like this. There has to be a reason for it. Do you know what it is?’