All That Glitters, page 36
‘Beaches will be out of bounds, lest the Germans try to land spies on them. Though pity help the spy who tries to creep in on this coast. The Welsh are a suspicious lot, even of people they’ve lived next door to for years.’
Dusk rose from the ground, thickening the twilight and turning the sand a cold, silver grey. The sun was sinking low on the horizon, its dying rays smudging the line between sea and sky tinting it a subtle, velvety shade of red-gold.
‘The water looks like the powdered ink we used to mix in school.’ Jane stepped on to a peninsula of sand that a few short hours ago had been a magnificent castle, complete with driftwood drawbridge and pebbled battlements. The sea washed around her, lapping over her feet on its inexorable journey over the sands.
‘You’re going to get your shoes wet.’
‘They’re old ones.’ Wilf had been right. The oilcloth hadn’t worn well.
‘That’s the last turret gone.’ Haydn observed as a wave surged into the moat and undermined the remaining hillock of sand.
‘But there’ll be more tomorrow.’
‘Not as many as today. There’ll only be the local children and those lucky enough to be staying in the chalets to build them. But if the sun shines we’ll come again. And next time we won’t give our costumes to my father to take home early. There’s nothing like moonlight bathing.’
‘You’ve done it?’
‘Not here. In Torquay, and over in Shoni’s when we were kids. My mother used to put us to bed, then go to chapel meetings, and in summer we’d creep down the stairs and sneak out through the front door. My father never missed us. He was always in the kitchen with his nose stuck in a book.’
‘The water must have been freezing.’
‘No. It’s warmer at night than in the day. I’ll bring you back here next week and prove it to you, or better still, take your bathers to work tomorrow and well call in Shoni’s on the way home.’
‘As long as you go into the water first.’
‘Coward.’ He led her away from the sea. Holding her close he pulled her to the ground. They knelt facing one another, the sand cool beneath their legs, their lips warm as they kissed.
‘You were right earlier; it would be wonderful if this could last.’ He looked towards the end of the beach. ‘There’s a light on in your chalet.’
‘It’s not mine yet.’
‘When it is, can I live there with you?’
‘For as long as you like.’
‘I think I’m falling in love with you, Jane Jones,’ He hadn’t intended to say the words, but he meant them. For the first time since Jenny.
‘I fell in love with you the moment I saw you.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘You were on stage, singing …’
‘Then you fell in love with the stage me?’
‘Only for a little while, before I got to know the real you.’
‘And now?’
‘Only the real you. The one who’s with me now.’
When he looked around again, the outlines of the stragglers on the beach had darkened to black silhouettes against a rich, deep, navy blue sky. ‘I told Will and Diana we’d meet them at dusk. We should go.’ He dusted the sand from her legs as they rose to their feet. ‘Hungry?’
She shook her head.
He lit a cigarette. ‘Well, I am.’
‘Move along there! No one allowed on the beach. Move along there!’ A row of tin-hatted air-raid wardens were rousting out the vagrants sleeping in the shelter of the wall.
‘Out, that cigarette!’ one of them ordered Haydn. ‘Don’t you know there’s a war on? Every light, no matter how small, is an infringement of blackout regulations.’
Tempted to protest that the Germans weren’t likely to see one cigarette even if they had been flying overhead, Haydn thought better of challenging the man, and dropped it into the sand.
‘What, may I ask were you doing on the beach, sir, miss?’ A policeman accosted them as they reached the promenade. Jane began to tremble and Haydn wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
‘Looking at the sea.’ he answered.
‘Make the most of it, while you can. There’s no saying how much longer the beaches will stay open. Now if I were you I’d get home quick.’
‘I feel as though the war has started.’ Haydn said bleakly, straining to see the way to the fair through the blackout.
‘What gives between you and little Miss Muffet?’ William asked Haydn as they left the girls at the Ladies on the station.
‘Nothing.’
‘You two haven’t half been doing a lot of sneaking off for “nothing”. With what you’ve got in the Town Hall I’d never have thought you’d go for a plain Jane.’
‘She’s not plain.’
‘Aye aye.’
‘Aye aye what?’
‘Come on, Haydn, it’s got to be love if you think Jane’s pretty. She has a figure like a scarecrow with the straw taken out.’
Haydn gave William a look that cut even through the darkness. ‘Sorry. I had no idea it was serious.’
‘It’s not.’
‘If that’s so, then why are you looking at me like that?’
*……*……*
Eddie had never been much of a one for the pub or drinking, but after he cleaned the gym that Sunday night he stayed on in the Ruperra. He joined Joey and a few of the boys for a pint which became two, three, and ultimately he lost count of the number. If he’d had his bedroom in Graig Avenue to go back to, he probably would have left when the walls and floors of the pub began to waver around him. As it was, he remained seated next to Joey, getting caught up in round after round of pints; it seemed a better option than walking into the Griffiths’ flat and facing Jenny’s mother. He imagined her sitting in the over-furnished, stuffy living room knitting and listening to the radio with the same disapproving look on her face she’d worn when he’d left.
He couldn’t help thinking the clock back to this time a week ago. He’d rushed up the hill as soon as he’d finished in the gym, knowing that Jenny would be waiting for him in the storeroom. There hadn’t been a day between his proposal and yesterday when they hadn’t made love. But apart from the kiss in the church he hadn’t touched her since the vicar had declared them man and wife. Was this what all the half-humorous, half-serious warnings married men directed at single ones were about? That once a woman had a man’s ring on her finger it spelt the end of sex?
He’d wanted to marry Jenny because she was pretty and, unlike one or two of the other girls he’d gone out with, hadn’t minded taking her clothes off. He’d seen enough of his parents’ marriage to know the damage that a frigid woman could inflict on a man, and he’d promised himself that he’d never get caught in that trap, no matter how attractive the woman. Yet here he was, one day after saying ‘I do’ at the altar, more lonely and frustrated than he’d ever been.
‘Penny for them?’ Joey asked.
‘My thoughts aren’t even worth that,’ he said sullenly, emptying the pint glass in front of him.
‘I’ll grant you they look miserable enough from where I’m sitting. Married life disagreeing with you?’
‘It’s not a bed of roses.’
‘I tried telling you to stay away from females, but you wouldn’t listen. I’ve yet to meet the boy who does. Mind you, I didn’t expect you to look quite so glum so soon. Jenny problems?’
‘Mrs Griffiths problems.’ Eddie hedged evasively.
‘Is it true about Mrs Griffiths?’ Glan Richards whispered, as he looked around the bar which was almost deserted; the landlord only opened illegally for the gym and card school regulars on a Sunday evening.
‘She doesn’t turn into a witch and ride a broomstick at night. If that’s what you mean.’
‘I didn’t think she did,’ Glan said impatiently. ‘Is it true she doesn’t allow Harry into her bed?’
‘How in hell do you expect me to know that?’
‘You’re living there, aren’t you? Does he sleep in the box room?’
‘You know he does. Mrs Evans opposite told everyone on the Graig that years ago.’
‘Well does Mrs Griffiths ever go in the box room?’
‘Not that I’ve seen, but then I only moved in this morning.’
‘I think it’s true,’ Glan reflected. ‘After all, Harry always looks miserable. As if he doesn’t get enough “you know what”.’
‘You want to know something, Glan?’ Eddie rose unsteadily to his feet. ‘After you’re married, sex isn’t the only thing you think about.’
‘Go on!’ Glan stared at him in disbelief. ‘In that case I don’t think I’ll ever get married.’
‘That’s just as well, seeing as she’d have to be pretty desperate to take you on.’
‘Jenny’s in bed.’ Mrs Griffiths clutched her candlewick dressing gown close to her ample figure and eyed Eddie suspiciously as he staggered up the stairs. ‘She tried waiting up for you, but she gave up in the end. Which is hardly surprising, considering the hour. Try not to wake her when you go in.’
Eddie was about to say that now Jenny was his wife, he’d do as he damned well pleased in their bedroom, but the look in Mrs Griffiths’ eyes decided him against it. She stepped back as he loomed towards her. Banging clumsily into the wall he tried to open the bedroom door towards him before he succeeded in stumbling into the room. A bedside light was burning. Jenny was lying on her side turned away from him, a book propped up on the pillow in front of her.
‘You’re late.’
‘So what? I’m a grown man, it’s a free country, I can do whatever I please.’
‘As Mam says, you’re married now, and married people have to make sacrifices.’
‘Seems to me I’ve done nothing but make bloody sacrifices since I walked out of church with you yesterday morning.’
‘You went down the gym tonight.’
‘Only because I want to get enough money together to get us out of this …’
A banging on the wall interrupted him mid-flow.
‘Now you’ve woken Mam.’
‘I doubt your Mam ever goes to sleep. Most vermin are nocturnal.’
‘Eddie!’
The banging started up again and they both fell silent.
‘Why do I get the feeling she’s got a glass pinned to the wall so she can listen to every word we say.’ He sat heavily on the end of the bed and untied his bootlace. When one boot fell with a loud thump to the floor, he began on the other.
‘I took a walk up Leyshon Street this afternoon.’
‘That must have been nice for you.’
‘I saw some rooms.’
‘Oh yes.’
‘They weren’t bad. One down, one up, in Mrs Edwards’s house.’
‘Old Mrs Edwards?’
‘Her son’s signed up for the army and her daughter’s married. She’s going to have trouble making ends meet once he goes and she said we can rent them off her for ten shillings a week.’
‘Ten bob? You can rent a whole bloody house in Leyshon Street for that!’
‘If you can find one. Come on, Eddie, there’s only her in the house, it would almost be as good as having our own place.’
‘Ten bob’s more than we can afford.’
‘You agreed to pay Mam fifteen.’
‘But that included food.’
‘Eddie,’ she laid her hand on his arm. Her touch was enough to make him forget everything except his frustration. Leaning towards her he fumbled with the neck of her nightgown.
‘Eddie, not now,’ she hissed, conscious of her mother the other side of the wall.
‘Not now! Not bloody ever.’
‘Eddie …’
The banging started again.
‘It’s all right, Mrs Griffiths,’ he bellowed. ‘Your daughter’s saving her virtue for the worms, just like you.’ He picked up his boot.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Out.’
‘At this time of night? Eddie …’
‘When you find a place at a price we can afford, and you’re prepared to carry on where we left off before yesterday, let me know.’ He picked up his bag and stuffed into it the contents of the drawers and the few things in the wardrobe that were his, before storming out of the room and down the stairs.
‘You moving back in?’ Evan asked as Eddie walked through the door carrying a case.
‘For tonight,’ he growled.
Evan smelt the drink on his son’s breath. ‘If you come into the kitchen I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
‘Aren’t you on your way up to bed?’
‘No,’ Evan lied. ‘Just checking on Brian. I thought I heard him crying. Jane moved in with Diana yesterday so he’s back in his old room.’ He led the way into the kitchen and set the kettle on the stove to boil. ‘Trouble?’ he asked quietly.
‘Seeing as how no one in this house was all that keen on the idea of me marrying Jenny, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
‘No.’
‘I know you thought of her as Haydn’s girl.’
‘He told me before you got engaged that there wasn’t anything left between them.’
‘But you had to ask?’
‘We were talking about something else at the time.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like me, and Phyllis and your mam, if you must know.’ He spooned tea into the pot.
‘Oh Christ, what’s the use. It’s not really Jenny,’ Eddie said angrily, loath to divulge the whole truth to his father. ‘It’s her bloody mother.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘No you can’t. I came back from the gym tonight, and before I could even get into bed with Jenny, she started banging on the wall.’
‘Perhaps she’s scared of what you’ll do to her daughter in your condition.’
‘You saying I’m drunk?’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘I suppose I am,’ he conceded miserably.
‘If Mrs Griffiths is a problem, you could try moving in here.’
‘With Jenny?’
‘If Haydn moved upstairs with William, you and Jenny could have the front room.’
‘It wouldn’t work. Not with Haydn living here as well.’
‘The only problems between Haydn and Jenny are in your head.’
‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me.’
‘You’re probably still coming to terms with everything happening so quickly.’
‘It seemed like a good idea to get married when Jenny suggested it. With the war and everything …’
‘You’re not thinking of joining up?’
‘Not me. Not until they send for me.’
‘Then what did the war have to do with it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Eddie said illogically.
‘Seems to me that now the deed is done, you’ve two choices. Give up as your mother and I did, or make the best of it.’
‘There’s no best to make of anything in the Griffiths’ house.’
‘Then look for a place of your own, as you said you would.’ Evan handed him his tea.
‘We have.’
‘Obviously not hard enough.’
‘She said she found somewhere in Leyshon Street today. Rooms in Mrs Edwards’.’
‘And?’
‘And I was angry and said a lot of things I shouldn’t have.’
‘Stay here tonight. Think about what you want. Go for a walk with her tomorrow. If you talk it over between you, you should be able to sort out something.’
‘You think so?’
‘For both your sakes I hope so.’ Evan was exhausted; it had been a long day at the beach and he had to be up early to get a cart out first thing in the morning. If Eddie had been in a receptive mood he might have tried saying more to him, but in Eddie’s present contentious frame of mind there seemed little point. He looked back as he reached the door. ‘You do love her, don’t you, son?’ he asked seriously.
‘I suppose so.’
‘In marriage there’s no “suppose so”, it’s either yes or no, and that’s something I learned the hard way.’
‘I married her, didn’t I?’
‘Then it wouldn’t hurt once in a while to tell her you love her.’
‘Is that what you did with Mam?’
‘No, but that’s what I do with Phyllis. All the time.’
Chapter Twenty-two
Despite the deafening din of the alarm clock rattling in the biscuit tin next to his bed, William woke slowly and sluggishly. He reached out to switch it off. The first sensation his sleep-numbed brain registered as he silenced the noise was the skin across his shoulders, tight and burning from too much sun; the second was of a body lying next to him. Suddenly wide awake he turned swiftly and saw Eddie lying on his back, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.
‘What are you doing here?
‘What does it look like?’
‘Jenny had enough of you already?’
‘No.’ Eddie answered shortly, leaving the bed and pulling on his trousers.
‘If I’d got married on Saturday, I wouldn’t have shared a bed with you last night.’
Ignoring his cousin, Eddie picked up the remainder of his clothes from the floor, pushed his bare feet into his boots, opened the door and clumped down the stairs. It was early, half-past three. Monday morning was baking and slaughterhouse morning in Charlie’s. William and Charlie took the slaughterhouse and he and Alma saw to the baking in the kitchen at the back of the shop. A full day, and he doubted that he’d had more than an hour or two of sleep. He felt foul, and because of the strict regime his trainer usually insisted on wasn’t sure why, although if he’d asked his brother or his cousin they would have diagnosed the classic symptoms of hangover. After washing, he finished dressing in front of the range in the kitchen. William joined him, but neither bothered with breakfast. There’d be time enough for that when the first joints were baking in the shop’s ovens.
Irritated by Eddie’s close-lipped silence, William couldn’t resist a gibe. ‘Going to call in and kiss your wife good morning?’ he asked as they left the house.
‘The old witch might put a spell on me.’
‘Her mother?’
‘You recognise the description.’
‘What’s she done to you?’
‘Not much, just wouldn’t stop banging on the wall when I went back there last night.’
