All That Glitters, page 34
‘Is everything satisfactory, sir, madam?’ The porter hovered in the doorway.
‘Fine, thank you,’ Eddie nodded, then he remembered. Delving into his pocket he pulled out a sixpence.
‘Thank you, sir, madam. We hope your stay with us will be a pleasant one.’ He closed the door behind him, and Eddie walked across the room and locked it.
‘Eddie, no. Not in the middle of the day. Everyone will know what we’re doing.’
‘Would you rather do it with my brother?’ he asked bitterly.
‘No, not ever. And not with you in the middle of the day.’
‘Well you’ve no choice in the matter. You’ve said I do, and that’s it, madam. And while we’re talking about obeying, you can start forgetting all about Haydn, right now. No matter what you did with him once, it’s over, and it’s not going to happen again. Not if you want to remain in one piece.’ He crossed the room, pulled her to him and began to unbutton her jacket.
‘I told you, I’ve never done anything with Haydn. It’s over between us. I’m sorry for what happened at the church. I just lost my head. I wasn’t thinking straight. Eddie …’ She backed away, trembling, afraid of the strange light in his eyes.
‘You’re nothing but a bloody tease …’
Eddie’s outburst was interrupted by voices echoing in the corridor outside. Jenny went to the only chair and sat on it, legs demurely together, hands resting in her lap. The pose of the lady drummed into her by her mother.
‘Over here!’
‘No. Everyone in the hotel has probably guessed we’ve just got married.’
‘So what? There’s a first night for everyone.’
‘Exactly, a night not a day.’
‘Time and place have never stopped you before.’
‘Well they’re stopping me now.’
‘Why? Because we’re married? Is this what it’s going to be like from now on? You’ve caught me, you’ve got the ring on your finger, and now you’re going to kiss my brother behind my back and make me beg every time I feel like having a bit of fun?’ He was so angry he failed to see how close she was to tears. ‘Bloody hell! No wonder the gym’s so full of men getting away from their wives. I thought, really thought, you were different. Prancing around Shoni’s without a stitch on, kissing every inch of me, all that talk about wanting to sleep beside me every night. Then that night you -’
‘There was no one there.’
‘There’s no one here now.’
‘They’re just outside the door.’
‘So what are you saying? That you can only drop your knickers and open your legs in the dark in Shoni’s?’
‘Have you got to be so crude?’
‘You never thought I was crude before.’
‘That’s because you weren’t.’
‘But now you’ve hooked me I’m crude and not good enough for you any more. And Haydn is? Well I’ll tell you one thing Mrs Eddie Powell. You haven’t got your father here,’ he rammed his finger into his chest. ‘Your mother may have pushed him out of her bed and relegated him to the box room, but I know my rights. I married you, and that means I can have you, any time anywhere I choose.’ He caught her by the shoulders and threw her on to the bed. Then the tears came, a dam-burst that soaked her cheeks and quenched his rage. Furious with himself for allowing his temper to surface, and with her for provoking him, he turned his back and looked out of the window.
At that moment the irrevocable permanence of what he’d done hit home. Right or wrong, he’d made his choice, tied himself to Jenny and was stuck with her. As the marriage service said ‘till death us do part’. The muffled sounds from the corridor, her ragged breathing interspersed with sobs closed in around him, crushing, unbearable. He wanted to scream and shout. To run from the room and her, as fast as he could. Soft shoes shuffled over the thick carpet outside the door. There was a knock. Grim-faced, he walked from the window to open it. A bellboy stood there holding a silver bucket containing a champagne bottle set in ice, and a tray with two glasses.
‘Compliments of Dr and Mrs John, sir,’ he murmured looking at Jenny’s tear-stained face.
Eddie took the tray from him.
‘Would you like me to open it for you, sir?’
‘No.’ Eddie kicked the door closed. This time, Jenny noted with relief, he didn’t lock it.
‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ she asked timorously, wishing that once, just this once, he’d tell her he loved her.
‘Doesn’t look like we’ve got anything worth celebrating.’ He set the tray down on a side table.
‘Eddie, I’m sorry. But I can’t go to bed with you, not now in the middle of the day. Imagine if we had and that boy had come with the champagne?’
‘We would have asked him to leave it outside the door and he would have. This is a hotel. They’re used to coping with life.’
‘I’m sorry I’m not.’
‘So am I.’
There was a barbed edge to his voice that she didn’t know how to begin to soften. She left the bed, went to the wardrobe and removed a coat-hanger. Opening her case she proceeded to hang up the few things she’d brought. It would only take her a few minutes, but she had to do something to stop the voices in her head from screaming that she had married the wrong man. Before she’d emptied her case she heard the door opening. She whirled around to see Eddie, with his hat and jacket on.
‘You’re not going out?’
‘Why shouldn’t I? There’s nothing to keep me here.’
‘I never knew it could be so warm at this time of night,’ Jane observed as she and Haydn walked up the Graig hill at the end of what seemed like a marathon of three shows.
‘It won’t last.’ Haydn stopped and removed his lightweight jacket. He’d found his coat, and left it where he’d found it, hanging on the back of his dressing-room door. Slinging his jacket over one shoulder he loosened his tie and unfastened the collar on his shirt. ‘Winter’ll soon be here and then we’ll be wanting more of this.’
‘I suppose we will,’ she agreed, remembering last winter and how cold she’d been scrubbing the workhouse yard and steps.
‘If the weather holds tomorrow, we could go to the seaside.’
‘The seaside!’ Even in the subdued lighting of the street her eyes glittered with excitement.
‘Which do you prefer, Barry Island or Porthcawl?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I prefer Barry myself. Most people say the fair is better in Porthcawl, but Barry is the first holiday place I remember going to, so I’ve always liked it best.’
‘Wouldn’t it cost an awful lot?’
‘The train fare isn’t that much. Make it my treat, and we’ll get Di and Will to come with us.’
‘I’ll go only if you let me pay my way.’
‘I said, my treat.’
‘I won’t come otherwise.’
‘All right, be independent.’
‘I will.’
‘We’ll have to take blankets, food, buckets and spades, and bathers.’
‘Bathers?’
‘There’s no point in going to Barry if you don’t go swimming, girl.’
‘What do you mean you haven’t got a pair of bathers?’ Diana looked at Jane in amazement.
‘I’ve never been swimming.’
‘And I’ve only got one pair, unless …’ she opened her wardrobe door and went rummaging in the bottom.
‘What are you looking for?’
‘Trying to see if Maud left a pair behind. I couldn’t swear to it, but I think she was even skinnier than you.’ Diana fussed around throwing out various odd shoes, bits of ribbon and crumpled handkerchiefs. After five minutes she emerged with what looked like a child’s hand-knitted swimsuit. ‘Do you think you could get into this?’ she asked doubtfully.
‘I could try.’ Jane lifted the skirt of the cotton frock she’d put on that morning, kicked off her bloomers and struggled into the suit.
‘Let’s have a look.’
Jane pulled her dress over her head and Diana gazed critically at her.
‘I think you’re just the right side of decent.’
‘I’ve put on weight since I’ve come here,’ Jane said, studying herself in the mirror. She’d filled out a little, although Merv could still quite rightly say that she didn’t have a lot upstairs, she reflected, thinking wistfully of Judy and Mandy’s figures, and wishing that they hadn’t told Merv where she worked. Haydn’s kiss had changed her whole outlook on life. All of a sudden money didn’t seem as important as some other things. She’d burnt Merv’s photographs in the stove in the early hours of the morning, at the same time promising herself that she’d never, never go to his studio again, no matter how much he offered her.
‘Is it comfortable?’
‘Not too bad.’
‘Then I’d wear it and pack your underclothes into a towel. That way you don’t have to change on the beach. You can always dry and dress yourself under the skirt of your dress easier than you can undress. Right, let’s go. Sooner we make a move, the sooner we’ll get there.’
*……*……*
‘Train leaves Barry Sub at half-past nine,’ William announced through a mouth full of toast and dripping.
‘You’re coming, aren’t you Phyllis?’ Diana asked. ‘Because I’ll feel awful if you don’t, seeing as how it’s my day to cook.’
‘Evan and I are coming.’ Phyllis wrapped cheese and pickle sandwiches in brown paper.
‘This is a great idea of Haydn’s.’
‘Where is he, Will?’
‘Clay piping his shoes out the back. He’s dug up a blazer from what looks like the props department of a pierrot show. I’m not sure I want to be seen with him.’ William finished off the last piece of toast in one bite.
‘One bucket and spade.’ Evan walked in from the garden with a battered tin spade and bucket in one hand and Brian in the other.
‘Sandwiches.’ Phyllis thrust them into her shopping bag. ‘But we haven’t any drinks.’
‘Don’t panic. We’ll pick up a couple of bottles of pop and some biscuits in Griffiths’ shop.’
Caught up in the air of excitement, Jane dashed around with the others. Phyllis put a tin of scones on top of the sandwiches, then packed a layer of Diana’s home-made biscuits on top of the scones. William produced an old cricket bag and packed two blankets and the rolls of towels and underclothes into it. Evan pushed the bucket and spade on top. Diana found a couple of balls and made room for them. Checking the strength of the sun by standing in the back-yard, Phyllis ran to get a large floppy brimmed cotton hat for Brian that the boys protested made him look like a girl. Then just as the others were ready to leave, she decided she needed her cold cream as well.
‘If we don’t go now, we’ll miss the train,’ William shouted impatiently.
While Diana strapped Brian into his pushchair, Evan wrote out a note for anyone who might call. Laying it in the centre of the kitchen table he called, ‘Ready?’
Diana picked up the food. William took the cricket bag, Phyllis pushed the pushchair and they went out through the front door. Jane ran on ahead to Griffiths’ shop to save time. She bought bottles of orangeade and lemonade as her contribution to the holiday, then on impulse asked for a box of chocolates.
‘You going out for the day?’ Harry asked.
‘To the seaside.’
‘Then it’ll be boiled sweets or wine gums you’ll be wanting, love, not chocolate. It’ll melt in this heat.’
Settling on a quarter of each, Jane ran out and caught up with the others.
‘We’ve picked a good day,’ William said, looking up at the sky.
‘Always is a good day on workmen’s club outing.’
‘I didn’t know they were going today,’ Haydn took the bottles from Jane.
‘Showing your age,’ Will shook his head. ‘Too old to be taken on the outing and too young to join and drink with the men.’
‘You a member?’
‘Not yet, but I’m working on it.’
‘Do you remember how it always used to rain on Sunday School outings when we were small, and never on club?’ Diana laughed.
The platform on the Barry Sub-station was crowded with men in short-sleeved shirts, women in cotton dresses, and boys and girls carrying buckets and spades. William and Haydn stood poised when the train came in, and by dint of judicious elbowing they managed to commandeer the door to a carriage. Standing one either side, they helped Phyllis and Brian in first, Evan with the pram, then Diana and Jane.
‘Perfect.’ Diana fell into a corner seat next to Evan and Phyllis.
‘Who said you can sit there?’ her brother demanded.
‘I did.’
He looked at the bench seat opposite. He hated sitting with his back to the engine; besides, Jane had commandeered one window seat, Haydn the other.
‘Sorry,’ Jane jumped-up when she saw him frowning. ‘You can have this seat if you like.’
‘He most certainly can not.’
‘Why not, if the lady insists?’
‘It’s supposed to be gentlemen who give up their seats to ladies,’ Diana informed him tartly as he took Jane up on her offer. ‘Sometimes I wonder if you’ll ever grow up.’
‘He hasn’t changed since he was six years old and pulled the communication cord because he wanted a wee.’ Haydn took the centre seat so Jane could take his.
‘I most certainly did not,’ William contradicted indignantly.
‘First I’ve heard of this.’ Evan looked from Haydn to William.
‘We were going to Creigiau. Auntie Megan took us there so we could pick primroses for Mothering Sunday.’
‘Brave woman.’
‘That’s what the guard said when he came down the train to collect the five-pound fine.’
‘Did Megan pay it?’
‘He took one look at us six children and her black dress and let her off, but it was touch and go for a while.’
‘Is that the train starting?’ Jane asked as the whistle blew and the engine gathered steam. She looked out of the window. ‘Where’s that?’ she asked excitedly as they chugged past the Maritime colliery alongside a row of houses.
‘Woodland Terrace,’ Haydn informed her. ‘That’s Maesycoed, and up there is the school we all went to.’
‘One day it will have a plaque on the wall to commemorate the fact,’ William teased. ‘Haydn Powell, Revue artist and singer sat and didn’t learn his lessons here.’
‘Sandwich, anyone?’ Phyllis opened the bag.
‘We haven’t left Ponty yet, woman,’ Evan said.
‘I thought if they had their mouths fun they’d stop bickering.’
Everything was new to Jane. The sound of the engine, the sensation of travelling at speed, the scenery. The only times she had ever gone anywhere with the orphanage they had walked, and the transfers between orphanages and workhouse had been via a tattered old charabancs. She exclaimed over everything, finding magic in the most mundane of landscapes. Excitement mounted as the minutes ticked closer to journey’s end where the sea beckoned. Just as she’s seen it on the posters on the wall of the station. Barry Island! Even the name conjured up images of Robinson Crusoe.
Jenny read the notice on the bedroom wall.
‘ALL ROOMS HAVE TO BE VACATED BY 10 A.M.’
‘We’d better pack before we go down for breakfast.’
‘Not much to pack.’ Eddie picked up the pyjamas Jenny had laid out for him which he hadn’t worn, as he hadn’t bothered to undress when he had come in drunk at two in the morning. Fortunately the crowd he had fallen in with hadn’t known that it was his wedding day, but they had known about his success in the exhibition bout, and luckily for him they’d been prepared to celebrate it.
‘I suppose not.’ It was strange they were married, man and wife. They had slept together in that bed, but because of their quarrel they had remained each in their own half. The bottle of champagne still stood on the table, untouched, the dinner Andrew and Bethan had paid for uneaten. After the lonely hours she had been shut in the room with nothing to do, Jenny almost looked upon the walls around her as a prison.
‘We’d better get breakfast while they’re still serving it.’
‘Yes, I suppose we’d better,’ she echoed dismally, following Eddie through the door.
As the hills gave way to softer, more rounded contours, William sniffed the air. ‘I can smell the sea.’
‘In your imagination,’ Diana retorted.
‘Big Water!’ Brian cried, pointing out of the window.
Jane looked and saw mud flats and a dirty brown expanse of water, a little like a sluggish river, only wider.
‘That’s the sea?’ Dismay was evident in Jane’s voice.
‘It’s the sea, but it’s not the beach,’ Haydn reassured her. ‘That’s further on.’
Jane left her seat. Standing at the window she watched the water roll past. Little wicker gates painted brown and cream came into view, alongside a line of straggling fencing. Evan and Phyllis began collecting their things together. The train drew to a long, slow halt. Finally it jerked and juddered to a standstill. William heaved down the window, opened the door, and picked up the cricket bag. Clutching her bag of sweets Jane followed out on to the platform.
‘Beach first?’
The others walked on briskly. Jane didn’t even try to keep up with them. She wanted to stop and look. Everything was so different from the valleys: whiter, cleaner, even the air was crisper, tangy with a fizz not unlike that of bubbling lemonade.
‘You’ve never been to the seaside before, have you?’ Haydn enquired perceptively.
She shook her head, gazing at the length of the promenade and the expanse of yellow sand beyond, littered with thousands of picnicking families. And beyond them the sea, blue and brilliant twinkling with a myriad dancing sunbeams.
‘Or on a train?’
‘You must think I’m a real country bumpkin.’
‘No, just checking, so we can organise you a day worth remembering.’
