Time to Move On (15 page)

Seranne was thankful to return to Badgers Brook and allow its
serenity
to calm her mind and help her to put aside worries about which she could do nothing.

Tony and his father went to see an architect about building a new bake house. The money they had been putting aside, together with a small mortgage was enough for the large premises they envisaged and they were excited. As a family firm, the bakery was jointly owned by the four of them and with a majority of three out of four, they could at least start the process before trying once again to convince Babs that it was the right way forward.

Keeping her unaware of their plan was underhand and dishonest, but after many harsh battles in which Babs stoutly defended the principles laid down by her grandfather that small and reliable was better than risky adventures, she remained adamant that nothing should change. Tony and his parents eased their troubled consciences by assuring one another that, once there was something definite to show her, Babs would understand.

Her father and Tony were in the habit of going out in the evening for a drink before returning at eight, and she had been unaware of their lengthy discussions. Now, as she worked at the café and no longer drew a wage, they found it easy to talk and meet the accountant and the
planning
officers; the preparations were well in hand.

Betty and Alun kept Ed and Elsie’s guest house running, as well as
managing
the Ship. It meant rising early and working late and using every spare moment between opening times and deliveries to go and attend to guests. Laundry, bed-making, shopping and cooking were all dealt with by staff but on days off and when someone was sick, they coped between them. It went on and on and there was no sign of Elsie being well enough to return home. That meant Ed being at the hospital during visiting hours and between times he seemed incapable of doing anything to help.

Alun didn’t complain and Betty was grateful. ‘I know it sounds hard,’ she admitted, ‘but the business will be Ed’s when Elsie passes away and I have to keep it running efficiently for him.’

‘I understand that,’ Alun said.

‘But it’s for my brother and you shouldn’t be landed with all this extra work.’

‘You’re doing it for Ed,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’m doing it for you.’

‘Thank you.’

He shrugged away her thanks, then looked at her with concern. ‘You look worried and you haven’t see Elsie for a couple of days, so why don’t you go and see her this afternoon? Go straight after we close at two o’clock and I’ll see to the clearing up.’

Betty found Elsie in a bed with the sides pulled up and she looked so small and pale sleeping in what looked like a baby’s cot, that Betty felt great pity. She had not approved of her brother marrying Elsie Clements, because she had not revealed how ill she was until it was too late for Ed to back out. He told Betty he hadn’t wanted to cancel the wedding, but it was impossible for Betty to forget how Elsie had lied.

There were visitors at most of the beds, but the place was very quiet. The only sounds the subdued voices, the distant tapping of nurses feet as they went about their tasks and the rattling of paper as gifts of fruit and sweets were handed over. Heads nodded as she went in but there were no cheerful greetings from the few people she recognized, the ward was hushed by grief and despair.

Ed was dosing in an armchair nearby. He woke when Betty approached and whispered, ‘She seems better today, but she’s sleeping a lot, so if you can stay a while, I’ll go home and get changed and see if anything needs doing.’

‘Everything is all right but I’ll certainly stay with her and give you a rest.’

‘I don’t want a
rest
from my wife, as you put it!’ he hissed irritably. ‘I just want to go home and change then I’ll get back as fast as I can.’

‘Of course. I didn’t mean that to sound like it did.’

‘You don’t have to pretend. I know you’ve never been happy about my marriage. But I’ve been happy. Elsie has made every day a wonderful experience. You wouldn’t understand about loving someone, would you?’

His harsh voice and the unkind words hurt, but she said, ‘I’m sorry. For goodness sake, Ed, I’m doing all I can and Alun too. Just go and see how well we’ve looked after things and stop picking a fight!’ Elsie stirred but settled again. ‘Go on, and for goodness sake take your time. There’s no rush,’ she said, patting his arm to show her brief irritation was spent.

Alun had lent Ed his car and as he drove home, Ed was thinking about how he would manage if Elsie didn’t come back home. It was easier when she was there even though she did practically nothing. She sat in her chair
or in bed and managed the place, giving instructions and reminders, and praise. She was in charge and nothing was forgotten.

Spending so much time going to and from the hospital and not having her there when he got home was distorting everything and making the hours race by at times and at others seem to drag so he stared at the clock, willing it to hurry, waiting to leave for the hospital instead of catching up with some of the work. Betty would cope. She had never understood about Elsie, but she’d cope.

Elsie had been ill for all of their time together but he loved being with her. When her time came, he silently promised that the guest house would continue in exactly the same way as she had always run it. The business could afford an assistant and the cleaner could do extra hours. The rest he could manage. Betty was always there and she’d support him until he had learnt to cope without Elsie. Betty had time to spare and she loved being needed.

At the hospital Betty sat watching Elsie sleep. A nurse came and asked if everything was all right.

‘How is she?’ Betty asked. ‘Will she be coming home again soon?’

‘You can never tell of course, but she is very ill.’

After the nurse had checked the patient was comfortable and left them alone again, Betty moved and stretched. Elsie reached out through the rail of the bed and Betty held her hand. The grip tightened and then relaxed. It was several minutes before she realized that Elsie had died.

The nurses came and drew the curtains around the bed and after a few minutes they took her away. Betty walked up and down wishing Ed would come. She telephoned the guest house and the Ship but there was no reply. Then, when she tried the guest house again, desperate to see Ed and tell him the sad news, it was Alun who answered. ‘I’ll go and find him,’ he promised. ‘Wait there and we’ll come and join you.’

Ed had taken Betty at her word and taken his time. Elsie would be pleased to see someone different when she woke. It would be a nice change for her to talk to Betty. He went through the house making sure everything was neat and orderly and checked that the kitchen was prepared for late-night drinks. Betty was so good at organizing. Perhaps she’ll continue to come when Elsie came home? he wondered. She had Alun to help out and running the pub wasn’t that hard. He was the one who’d need help. Elsie would need all his time, some spoiling, being reminded how much she was loved.

He went to have his hair cut and stayed for a chat with a few friends, before going back to the guest house to collect the few treats he had
bought to take into the hospital. The phone rang as he was leaving, but a glance at the clock reminded him of how long he had been away and he ignored it. If it was important they would ring back. He didn’t think it would be about Elsie. She was sleeping and would have Betty for company when she woke. And he would be back with her very soon.

He went to the shops and paid for his newspapers and put in the order at Mrs Harvey’s grocery shop, then drove back to the hospital.

When he walked into the hospital he saw Betty and knew at once that the worst had happened.

‘I’m so sorry, Ed,’ Betty said.

‘Why wasn’t I with her?’ he wailed ‘Why did you tell me not to rush back?’

Betty sat him down and let him rage about the unfairness of it all. She had phoned Alun again and told him she would wait until the first stage of the procedures had been dealt with, then drive her brother home.

Ed was numb with grief and was unable to gather his thoughts. She drove him back to the guest house where the young cleaner had kindly waited to see how she could help.

‘I have to go, Ed,’ Betty said. ‘We have to open the bar but I’ll be back as soon as the first rush is over.’

‘Yes, you go. I’ll have to manage, won’t I? My Elsie’s dead but you have to open the bar!’

She ignored the petulance in his voice and with relief, drove back to the Ship – and Alun. When she reached home, Alun said nothing. He just put his arms around her and held her. He rested his cheek on her head and once or twice, kissed her forehead. She was so grateful for his strength and comfort she didn’t move for a very long time.

The following days went in a blurr of activity and phone calls as arrangements were made. Betty and Alun told the staff to refuse further bookings at the guest house for the following two weeks and Ed stayed there alone. He made it clear he didn’t want people coming in offering condolences.

‘They didn’t bother with her while she was alive and you hardly
bothered
even when she was in hospital, so why should I have to listen to false sympathy now?’

He told everyone he wanted a quiet funeral and only a few ignored him and went anyway. Elsie had been unable to go out for several months and even before that her social activities had been seriously curtailed. Friends had lost touch, there was no family, and it was only a few
neighbours
and business people who followed the coffin that day. Even fewer
went back to the guest house where Betty and Alun had provided a meal and at nine o’clock that night they left Ed alone as he had requested, and promised to call the following day.

‘Is there a will, d’you know?’ Alun asked, as they walked home.

‘Hardly likely. With Ed as sole beneficiary, Elsie probably didn’t bother.’

‘It makes things a bit easier, that’s all.’

‘I hope having the business to run will make things easier for Ed. He’ll have to get on with things. There’ll be no time to sit and mope or dwell on his grief. That must be a good thing.’

‘We’ll have to step back and not encourage him to depend on us too much. He’s been running the place practically single-handedly for months and we mustn’t make him feel unable to cope now Elsie’s no longer there.’

Betty shrugged. ‘I know I wasn’t pleased when he married Elsie but now I’m selfish enough to be relieved that he has the business, and a life of his own.’

Silently Alun agreed.

A few days after the funeral of Elsie Connors, Ed received a letter from their solicitor, Mark Lacy. When he opened it, presuming it would be something confirming his ownership of the guest house, he stared at the few short sentences with casual interest. It simply asked him to go and see Mr Lacy, and Ed phoned to make an appointment. Although he didn’t expect there to be any complications, he was still distressed by the death of Elsie and he asked Betty to go with him. ‘In case I miss something he tells me,’ he explained. ‘My head isn’t clear at the moment.’

Alun willingly agreed to deal with the morning preparations for
opening
and with Betty driving, she and Ed – still wearing mourning black – set off.

‘This will be the final hurdle,’ Betty said. ‘After this you can make arrangements for the help you’ll need and things will settle down. I’ll be there to help with any problems, although I don’t think you’ll meet any. After all, you’ve run the business on your own for a long time now.’

‘I haven’t. Not really. Elsie was ill but she was still in charge. I don’t know anything about the accounts, she kept hold of all that.’

‘It can’t be difficult. Poor Elsie didn’t know she was going to leave you so soon or she’d have shown you everything,’ Betty said, although she was puzzled about Elsie’s reticence to allow Ed to deal with the business side of things. He booked people in and managed the manual work, so why didn’t he share the rest? ‘It can’t be easy to face the fact of your imminent death,’ she said comfortingly. ‘I’m sure she’d have involved you if she’d known. Perhaps there’s a note with the will.’

‘I don’t think she left a will.’

‘Don’t worry, the solicitor will sort it out. As her husband you’ll inherit everything. It’ll take a little more time, that’s all.’

The solicitor’s office was above a shoe shop with an entrance at the side, but its importance showed in the well-painted door and the highly
polished brass plate and door knocker. Ed rang the bell above the solicitor’s name and walked up to where they found the door open and Mark Lacy waiting for them, hand out in greeting. He seemed nervous but when they were seated and he was behind his enormous desk he seemed more at ease.

‘Firstly, let me tell you how sorry I am to hear about your loss,’ he began. Then the nervousness returned and he seemed unable to face them. He looked down at a document in front of him, smoothing it out, patting it, then said, ‘You are aware of course, that your wife left a will?’

‘No, I didn’t know,’ Ed replied, ‘but it must have been before we married and our marriage would cancel it, wouldn’t it?’

‘The will was made a few weeks after your wedding, Mr Connors and your wife assured me you were aware of its contents.’ Mark Lacy patted the document again. ‘I was told that you knew and understood.’

‘Understood what?’ Ed stood up and tried to look at the piece of paper in front of the solicitor and Betty stood with him and held his arm. ‘Tell me for heaven’s sake. She left a few gifts did she? That isn’t a surprise, she was very kind. There was no need for her to tell me about them.’

‘The guest house will be easily transferred to my brother, won’t it?’ Betty asked. ‘No problems with that, is there?’

‘The guest house is left to Mrs Connors’ niece, er …’ He was nervous and pretended to check on the paper. ‘A Mary Anne Crisp.’

‘But – but – I thought, as her husband – who is Mary Anne Crisp? I’ve never heard of her.’ He was shaking and Betty grasped his arm more tightly.

‘Sit down, Ed, listen to the rest of what Mr Lacy has to say.’

‘The money left after everything has been dealt with is to be divided between you and Miss Mary Anne Crisp, apart from a few small bequests.’

‘You, Miss Connors, are to be given fifty pounds to thank you for the support and kindnesses you have shown. There are gifts too for the nurses and a member of staff’ He looked up at Ed and added, ‘I have only done a preliminary assessment but I believe you will inherit in excess of two hundred pounds.’

‘But I thought there was more than that.’ Ed frowned. ‘Elsie didn’t discuss the details but I understood she had several thousands, left to her by an aunt.’

‘That is shown in the purchase of the property and her more recent medical expenses, Mr Connor.’

Ed turned and stared at Betty. He looked stunned. ‘But this can’t be
right. There has to be a mistake! The guest house must be mine. We were married, she wouldn’t leave it to a stranger.’

As though warning against an appeal, Mark Lacy went on quietly, ‘Besides the will, which makes her intentions perfectly plain, I have a note written by her doctor stating her to be mentally alert and quite clear about what she wanted, Mr Connors. There is also this.’ He picked up another envelope. ‘Your wife left a letter for you. Perhaps she explains it all in that.’ He offered the envelope to Ed, who brushed the man’s hand aside angrily and it was Betty who took it and put in her handbag. ‘We have already set in motion the usual inquiries,’ Lacy said. ‘Appeals for Mary Anne Crisp to get in touch with us. When I have more information I will inform you immediately.’

‘You’re wrong. There has to be a mistake. Elsie wouldn’t treat me like this,’ Ed muttered.

Mark Lacy stood up and stepped towards him, hand outstretched. ‘When I have gone through everything thoroughly I will arrange another appointment and we can discuss it all fully. Until then, Mr Connors, I offer my sincere condolences and wish you well, and I hope this new stage of your life will be a good one. Good day to you both.’

Dismissed, they went out with his good wishes echoing dully in their heads.

‘I’m homeless, Betty,’ Ed said as they walked to the car. ‘Can you believe that? After looking after her, giving her every attention, loving her, this is how she treats me. I can’t believe she’d be so cruel.’

‘Perhaps she wasn’t thinking clearly, in spite of what the doctor wrote. She was very ill for most of your marriage.’

‘Her mind was as clear as yours.’ There was bitterness in his voice. ‘What am I going to do? I’ll have to come back to the Ship and Compass, won’t I?’

‘We won’t make any decisions until we know all the facts.’

‘Are you saying you’ll let me down too? That you won’t welcome me back home?’ Betty declined to remind him that the Ship was hers alone. She had a painfully guilty feeling, because welcoming him home was not what she wanted. Not at all.

The bar was open when they went in but there were few customers. Alun was polishing glasses and talking to Colin Jones, who wore an old railways coat which he used for gardening, and she glanced at the floor to see that he’d left his usual trail of mud from the door to the bar and from there to the table near the fire. Today she didn’t care. Ed’s problem was her problem as well and she needed to talk to Alun in private. If Ed
came back it would affect Alun too.

There was no opportunity as Ed went straight to tell him what had happened. She couldn’t hear his words but from the whining tone she could guess what he was saying. Her heart was racing; she was afraid that Alun would suggest moving out, believing it was what she would want.

There were constant interruptions when she tried to talk to Alun, mostly when Ed came in for another session of stating his dismay and misery. When they did have an opportunity she hesitated, unsure how best to explain how she felt and that resulted in Alun believing she was hesitating out of embarrassment at having to tell him to leave.

As she served the desultory few, she was rehearsing what she would say to make him understand that she didn’t want him to leave, not now, not ever. Putting all she felt into words was impossible, yet somehow she had to make him understand that when Ed had moved out, leaving her
without
help, she’d had to cope and, although she loved her brother, he now had to rebuild his own future and not expect to scuttle back to her, ruin her life, and expect everything to be made easy for him.

Another family in Cwm Derw was having problems. At the bakery, Babs had been summoned to a meeting, at which Tony and her parents told her they were building a new, larger, more modern bake house behind a larger shop they had bought, and they wanted her agreement.

‘I
don’t
agree,’ she said at once. ‘We’ve had this discussion time and again and I still believe we should stay with what we have. Extending and changing everything is a risk. We have a comfortable living here so why go for something new and unknown? It could be a disaster.’

‘All through the war and the years since, we’ve been restricted. Building was impossible and expanding the business was just a dream. Now it’s 1953, Queen Elizabeth will be crowned on 2 June. A new Elizabethan age. Everyone is looking to the future and making plans. We want to move on.’

‘Why?’ Babs asked again.

‘I’m young and everyone wants to make his mark,’ Tony said.

‘I don’t.’

Her mother looked away and her father coughed nervously. ‘Babs, love, if you don’t want to be a part of this expansion, we understand and we’re willing to give you your share of the money to do what you want.’

‘Buy me out?’

‘I suppose so, but giving you the opportunity to leave what you no longer enjoy and start again is a kinder way of saying it. You chose to
leave the business, to run that café so now you no longer take any
interest
in the bakery, it seems the best solution.’

‘But I am interested. In fact, I want to come back and run the shop. I hate the café serving all those boring woman as they sit and gossip for ages over one small coffee and a bun. Seranne will make a far better manageress than I ever will.’

‘Too late,’ Tony said. ‘We’ll soon be advertising the shop for sale and we’ll move out as soon as the new premises are complete.’

Brother and sister continued to argue, going over the same points time after time, neither willing to give in. They were different sides of a very high fence. Their parents sighed and left the room. This was a quarrel no one could win. By the time they parted, faces ugly with acrimonious fury, it was seven o’clock on a dark, cold March evening.

Babs refused to sit and eat the meal her mother had prepared, and ran from the house. There was a bus coming and she ran for it as though it was her last chance and got off at the top of the lane near Badgers Brook.

When she knocked on the door of Badgers Brook, pushed it open and called, Seranne greeted her with pleasure. ‘What a lovely surprise, Babs. Come in, Kitty’s here, she brought me a helping of soup for my supper. Plenty for two if you’re staying.’

‘Thanks, I’d love to.’ She went into the warm living-room where Kitty sat in an armchair near the blazing fire. ‘Hello Mrs Jennings, not interrupting, am I?’

‘I’m just off to give my Bob his supper. But not because you’ve come, mind,’ Kitty said with a laugh.

Seranne set the table in the kitchen and served the bowls of lentil soup, flavoured with onions and a few bacon bones begged from the grocer. Babs said nothing until they had eaten and were sitting beside the fire nursing their cups of tea. ‘Seranne, I don’t know what to do.’

‘Tell me about it,’ her friend coaxed.

Babs explained about her family’s plan to sell the baker’s shop and move into a new premises. ‘I disagree and tonight they told me they’re going on with it without my consent. They offered to buy me out, give me my share of the money and let me start again with something I want to do.’

‘And?’

‘I wanted to go back to the shop and sell bread and cakes, but it’s too late. They’re selling and I’m losing my home.’

‘Don’t be so melodramatic. You can still live at home, unless you feel
it’s time to move on? And they will certainly find you a job. But it’s a good time to stop and think how you want to spend the rest of your life. I left when I realized I was getting in the way of my mother’s new marriage. It’s a frightening feeling, like hanging over a river on a branch that might break off at any moment. But it doesn’t. Young people do it all the time, leave the safety of home and move on.’

‘I don’t want to stay in the café. Even with your help – which makes me realize what a cheat I am, applying for a job I couldn’t do.’

Seranne looked at her thoughtfully. ‘What if we could buy it, run it our own way, would that make you enjoy it?’

‘Buy it? Buy the café?’

‘I have some savings and with what your parents plan to give you we could afford it, although it would be run on a shoestring at first. If you could make the bread, in fact do all the baking, we could advertise
home-made
cakes and bread and the smell alone would bring ’em in!’ Warming to the idea she had been incubating for a while, she went on. ‘There’s a lot we could do to increase trade, appearance for a start. It’s never been made to look very appealing, has it?’

Their tea went cold as they sat there in the calm quiet of the old house and allowed their thoughts to tumble over the possibilities. The clock marked the hours unnoticed when they took out paper and pens and started working out what their idea would mean. By adding together their funds, the cost of buying the business plus the expenses of
smartening
it up seemed a possibility and their eyes glowed with the excitement.

‘I’d need a larger room than the kitchen we have at present,’ Babs said. ‘Could we afford to extend? Even double it?’

‘It’s a question of permits for new building, but I can’t see that it’s impossible, can you? Things are far less tight than a couple of years ago.’

‘My family will know all about building permits!’ Babs said, wryly. ‘They’ve been investigating for months.’

‘We wouldn’t be able to do anything straightaway, we’d have to see how the finances work out, but …’

Babs laughed then. ‘There’s me coming here for a moan because my family are making changes and just hours later I’m planning an expansion of my own!’

‘There’s a lot to find out, the first being whether Mr Griffiths will sell. I did hear rumours about him wanting to retire, which is why I had already been thinking about this idea.’

‘How can we run a business? I haven’t the first idea.’