All That Glitters, page 25
Haydn followed Andrew through the hall into the dining room that overlooked the lawned garden. Birds were feasting at a nearly constructed wooden table covered with scraps. Andrew held out the coffee jug, then remembered working-class preferences. ‘Would you prefer tea?’
‘Coffee, please. I developed a taste for it in London.’
‘What brings you up here at this hour?’ Andrew poured the coffee and placed it in front of him.
‘I haven’t seen Bethan since the night I came home.’
‘That’s understandable. You’ve been very busy, from what your father and Phyllis have told us.’
‘Rehearsing Variety by day and playing Revue all night.’
‘You must be exhausted.’
‘Not if everyone in Pontypridd is to be believed. Didn’t you know that singing isn’t real work?’
‘You believe them?’
‘As I’m the one who’s on stage, I’m not allowed to hold an opinion.’
‘There’s nothing wrong, is there, Haydn?’
‘With me?’
‘It’s difficult to come back to a place like Pontypridd when you’ve made a success of your career,’ Andrew said perceptively.
‘You’ve found that out too?’
‘Doctoring’s slightly different, but I do know there’s no race like the Welsh for putting a man down when they’ve found him guilty of getting above himself.’
‘Then I’ve been tried and sentenced?’
‘Not that I’ve heard.’ Andrew took his customary place at the head of the table. ‘But I know Pontypridd people.’
‘They never change, do they?’
‘And God bless them for it.’
‘God bless who, for what?’ Bethan appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a cream silk dressing gown that flowed over her swollen figure and fell around her ankles in soft folds. Her dark hair was brushed back, away from her face. She looked like a pale, fragile version of Lady Macbeth. Haydn had a sudden pang of conscience. How could he have even contemplated troubling Bethan with his problems? She had enough of her own, with a house of this size to run, a husband to look after, and another baby on the way while she was still mourning the last one.
‘I was warning Haydn that the people in Pontypridd will never change.’
‘In what way?’ She sat down and Andrew poured her tea without asking if she wanted any.
‘You know how it is, sis, everyone assuming I’ve grown a big head.’
‘Now you’re on stage.’ She made a wry face as she sipped her tea. ‘I can imagine. But for someone who has to work late every night, you’re up early this morning.’
‘It’s the only time I could think of coming. I’ve hardly seen anything of you since I’ve been home.’
‘Whose fault is that?’
‘Mine, that’s why I’m here. You keeping all right?’
‘Fighting fit.’
‘You look tired.’
‘That’s because she won’t rest.’
‘Andrew, if I rest any more, I’ll turn into a cabbage.’
‘Never.’ He left his seat and kissed her on the forehead. Walking over to the sideboard he picked up the covers from the array of silver chafing dishes. ‘Sure we can’t tempt you with something, Haydn? Scrambled eggs, haddock, porridge?’
‘If I eat now it will go straight to my legs, and I’ve a full morning of dancing ahead.’
‘Anything for you, darling?’ Andrew asked solicitously.
‘Dry toast, please.’
He passed her a rack. She took a piece and laid it on her plate. ‘I know you, Haydn. You wouldn’t have left your bed to walk all the way up here if there hadn’t been something on your mind. Come on, out with it.’
‘There’s nothing, Beth, really.’
‘Just brotherly concern?’ She looked at him over the rim of her cup. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Well, maybe just one little niggle.’
Andrew frowned at him, clearly warning him off, but Haydn didn’t need Andrew’s prompting to see just how frail his sister was.
‘Is it the family? Dad’s ill …’
‘Nothing like that, Beth,’ he reassured. ‘Everyone’s fine, and just as you told me when I came home, happy.’
‘You’re getting on with Phyllis? Because if you’re not you can stay here.’
‘Brian, Phyllis and I get along very well’
‘Then what?’
‘It’s the lodger,’ he murmured, hoping he’d settle on a subject that wouldn’t concern her too much.
‘Jane … Jane Jones, isn’t it? Phyllis mentioned her last Sunday. She’s working in the Town Hall as an usherette?’
‘That’s right.’
‘From what Dad said she’s moving on soon.’
‘When she’s worked her week in hand and can afford to take up lodgings somewhere else.’
‘Then what’s the problem?’
‘It’s hard to explain, really.’ He racked his brains trying to think of something that wouldn’t alarm Bethan, wishing he’d never come. ‘Forget it, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’
‘This is just what he was like as a boy,’ Bethan complained. ‘He’d say something like “Now I’ve done it, Mam will kill me”, run off, and leave me to worry and search the house for signs of wreckage.’
‘This time it is nothing. I can’t get anything out of her.’
‘Like for instance?’
‘What she’s done until now. Where she’s come from.’
‘You think it could be prison?’ Andrew joked.
‘That could come as a recommendation in our family,’ Bethan interposed tartly, thinking of her aunt and her father.
‘It could be the workhouse,’ Haydn said uneasily. ‘I get the feeling she’s afraid of something, or someone. She’s a nice kid, I’d like to help her, and I wondered if either of you knew any more about her.’
‘So that’s it? Sir Galahad to the rescue. Well I’m afraid I can’t help you. I don’t know anything. I’ve never even met the girl. If there’s a mystery there, you’re going to have to solve it yourself.’
‘As I said, that was only one of the reasons I came. I really did want to see how you were.’ He caught Andrew’s eye. Bethan was smiling, but Andrew wasn’t. He pushed his coffee cup aside and reached for a cigarette.
‘You’re up and about early.’
‘Thought I’d make you my first stop and give you something to brighten your day.’ Eddie dropped the small ham and dishes of brawn and pressed tongue on to the counter in front of Jenny. Leaning over, he kissed her full on the mouth.
‘It’s just as well the counter is between us,’ she murmured breathlessly when he finally backed off.
‘I won’t be able to see you tonight because I’m fighting, you do know that, don’t you?’
She nodded as she stowed the cooked meat he’d brought on the cool slab. ‘I’d give anything to be there.’
‘Girls don’t go to boxing matches.’
‘Who says?’
‘Everyone. Matches can get bloody.’
‘And you don’t want me to see you getting hurt?’
‘I won’t get hurt. But the other fellow won’t be a pretty sight.’
‘I can stand it if you can.’
‘My trainer …’
‘Joey Rees.’
‘You follow boxing?’
‘Only your fights.’
‘He’s a bit old-fashioned. Doesn’t like women around the ring.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because Bethan and Laura Ronconi watched me once when I fought in the booth in the Rattle Fair.’
‘You won?’
‘I did,’ he answered proudly.
‘Well, there you are then. Joey can hardly object if I come tonight.’
‘But that was different. This is a proper match. The place will be packed out. There’ll be talent scouts there …’
‘I could borrow my father’s suit again.’
‘Without me to look after you? Forget it.’
‘Please,’ she begged, brushing her hair out of her eyes. He looked at her and felt as though his heart was melting. He wanted her, enough to take her right here and now, on the shop floor.
‘I suppose I could nip out of the shop at dinner time and ask Joey Rees if you can come,’ he capitulated.
‘And if he says yes?’
‘I’ll let you know on my way home tonight. But if he’s prepared to organise a seat for you, you’d better be on time, sit quietly and not say a word.’
‘To see you box, Eddie, I’d do anything.’
‘Anything?’ he murmured suggestively.
‘Anything.’
The shop was deserted. He vaulted over the counter, gathered her into his arms, and kissed her again. The bell clanged above the door, but neither of them looked up.
‘First thing in the morning, Eddie Powell? Ach y fi, for shame on you. You too, Jenny Griffiths,’ Mrs Richards scolded as she dumped her battered shopping basket on the counter.
‘It’s a good way to start the day, Mrs Richards,’ Eddie clasped Jenny hard before releasing her. ‘You should try it yourself some time.’
‘You keep away from me, young man,’ she shouted as he dived back over the counter. She picked up her basket and held it in front of her. ‘Do you hear me, you stay away or I’ll have Mr Richards after you.’
‘I’m terrified.’ He turned to Jenny. ‘See you later.’
‘And what do you think you’re doing, young lady?’ Mrs Richards demanded as Eddie rode away on his bicycle.
‘Serving you, Mrs Richards. Have you a list?’
‘List nothing. Look at you, going from one brother to another. Unnatural, I call it. And it will come to no good. You mark my words. No good at all.’
Chapter Fifteen
‘It’s good of you to offer me a lift down the hill.’ Haydn followed Andrew out of the house into the coach house that had been converted into a garage. ‘But really there’s no need, I can make my own way.’
‘No trouble, I have to go into town.’ Andrew opened the doors, pinned them back, unlocked the car and pulled out the crank.
‘I’ll do that.’
‘Be my guest.’ Andrew handed it over and sat in the driver’s seat.
‘I’m the one who should be thanking you,’ Andrew said as he negotiated out of the drive on to the narrow lane that led into Pontypridd.
‘What for?’
‘Not upsetting Bethan.’
Haydn slid back the window, pushed his hat to the back of his head, and rested his elbow on the sill. ‘The last thing I want is to upset Bethan, especially now with another baby on the way.’
‘And I’m grateful. I’m no Einstein, but it doesn’t take a lot of brains to work out that you didn’t walk all the way up Penycoedcae hill just to talk about the lodger.’
‘As long as Bethan thinks I did.’
‘I think you managed to convince her that you’re concerned about her and the baby.’
‘I am.’
‘I know I haven’t made a very good job of looking after your sister so far, but from now on I intend to take care of her. I love her, Haydn. Very much.’
Haydn had never felt easy in his sister’s husband’s company, but there was a quiet dignity in Andrew’s voice that commanded respect. ‘You’ve been through a rough time,’ he said awkwardly.
‘And it looks as though you’re going through one now.’
‘It’s nothing I won’t be able to work out for myself.’
‘Just answer one question,’ Andrew said, changing down a gear as the terraces of the Graig came into view. ‘Is Bethan likely to find out about whatever it is that’s troubling you?’
‘I hope not. Look, is there something I should know about Beth. Is she ill? Is it the baby?’
‘After Edmund, we’re both worried about this baby, and we’ll continue to worry until it’s born. But so far there’s been no signs to indicate that Bethan’s carrying anything other than a normal, healthy child.’
‘And Bethan?’
‘She’s not ill. Weak and tired, yes. She’s not resting properly. She hasn’t been strong for a while, and the events of last winter really pulled her down.’
‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘Calling in this morning and telling her you’re getting on with Phyllis helped. She worries about the family. Especially Maud in Italy.’
‘But there’s no need. Dad wrote and told me that when Trevor Lewis saw her last month the tuberculosis was no longer active.’
‘And he told Bethan the same thing when he came home, but telling Bethan is not the same as allowing her to see for herself. And I wouldn’t risk taking her to Italy, not in her condition. And then there’s Eddie …’
‘Eddie’s fighting fit.’
‘Fighting being the operative word while he insists on boxing. She’s terrified he’s going to get hurt.’
‘Eddie can look after himself.’
‘That’s what I keep telling her. And as if Maud and Eddie aren’t enough, there’s your parents. It’s not exactly a straightforward situation, although I agree with Bethan, things seem to have worked out for the best there. Neither one of them was happy when they were together.’
Haydn stared at him in amazement. ‘Aren’t you worried what people are saying?’
‘I’ve learned the hard way that the only thing to do with gossip is to ignore it. People can say what they like. My only concerns are the health and happiness of those close to me. Nothing else.’ He pulled up alongside the fountain. ‘This is as close as I’m going to get to the Town Hall on market day.’
‘Yes, of course. Thanks for the lift.’
‘Haydn,’ Andrew stopped him as he opened the door, ‘I meant what I said about being grateful for not bringing any problems to Bethan’s attention at the moment, but if you want someone to talk to, or if there’s anything … anything at all you think I can do to help you at any time I’d be honoured if you asked.’
‘Thank you for the offer, but there’s nothing.’
‘But there is something you can do for me,’ Andrew smiled wryly. ‘Get me four tickets for Saturday’s show. The last performance. A box if you can. I’ll pay you.’ He put his hand in his pocket.
‘Pay me if I can arrange it. Last nights are usually packed.’ Haydn couldn’t resist a dig, after all Andrew’s talk about looking after Bethan. ‘Thinking of organising a boys’ night out?’
‘Anything but. I’d like to take Bethan, Trevor and Laura. We haven’t seen a lot of them since they’ve come back from Italy.’
‘You two would take your wives to a Revue?’
‘Why not? Bethan would watch anything as long as you were in it, and you know Laura. She might be a Lewis by marriage, but she’s a Ronconi by birth and they’re game for anything. Besides-’ Andrew pointed at a poster on a pillar at the market entrance – ‘it says there that the displays are tastefully arranged.’
‘And you believe that?’
‘It’s there in black and white. Look, provided you manage the tickets, how about coming out with us for a few drinks and a supper after the show?’
‘I’d like to, but it will be the last night.’
‘Of course, how stupid of me. Theatrical tradition and all that. Well if you can’t manage the tickets we’ll see you on Sunday.’
‘You will?’
‘Bethan’s birthday. The family are coming up for lunch, and Charlie, Alma, Trevor and Laura. They did tell you?’
‘Yes,’ Haydn lied, wondering if anyone would have got around to mentioning it if he hadn’t called at Bethan’s.
‘Can I take a break today, Mr Horton?’ Jane asked as she checked the time on the clock on the end of the wall of the market. Judy and Mandy had told her they would be in the New Inn from one o’clock on, and she had promised she’d try to meet them there. If Mr Horton didn’t let her go, she’d have to wait until she went into work at four o’clock to see the photographs and pick up her second five-pound note. The money worried her more than the photographs. She wasn’t at all convinced that she was going to see it.
Wilf Horton looked around the hall. Trade had been brisk that morning, although it was now beginning to ease off. Whether his and the other traders’ good fortune was due to the school holidays or the warm summer weather that had encouraged people to make a day of it, or whether times were really getting better and the economy of the town was picking up after the depression, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t want to analyse the cause too closely in case the upturn in customers and profit didn’t last.
‘I suppose this is as quiet as it’s going to get. Half-hour, that’s all, mind.’
‘Thank you, Mr Horton.’ Clutching her handkerchief in her pocket, which now contained a five-pound note as well as her precious hoard of coppers and silver, Jane raced out through the door and around the corner to the New Inn, to find Judy and Mandy waiting for her at the table she had begun to think of as theirs.
‘Almost given you up,’ Mandy said as Jane sat down breathlessly.
‘I can’t stop for long.’
‘Is that because it’s your turn to pay?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Take no notice of her, she’s just teasing,’ Judy chipped in.
‘No really, it is my turn.’
‘Well you’d better take this then, if you’re paying.’ Judy pushed an envelope across the table. ‘Your money’s in there as well as the photographs.’
Jane opened it carefully. A five-pound note was tucked into the top of a large brown cardboard folder.
‘For God’s sake hide it under the tablecloth.’ Mandy eyed the matrons who were sipping tea and eating cucumber sandwiches around them.
Jane picked up the first photograph and almost fell off her chair.
‘Hard to recognise yourself, isn’t it?’
‘You’ve seen them?’
‘Merv was that chuffed, he couldn’t wait to show us.’
‘That’s the trouble with the camera, it puts pounds on,’ Judy grumbled. ‘Skinny little things like you always come out better than the well-blessed like me. But even Merv said he was staggered with the way your top storey developed. His very words.’
Jane flicked through the photographs. There were twelve in all. Half a dozen taken with her naked back to the camera, long strands of black hair streaming over her shoulder and lightly grazing her naked buttocks, as she peeked coyly at a point somewhere to the left of the lens; and six front view, where the only thing fastened was the collar and tie around her neck. The sides of the shirt draped wide to expose her chest, the tie falling midway between her naked breasts, the crook of the hockey stick angled carefully to conceal the flesh-tinted patch glued between her thighs.
