All That Glitters, page 38
‘It would be more sensible to move in and use Mrs Edwards’s furniture, wouldn’t it?’
‘To start off with, I think so.’
‘Eventually of course, when we get a place of our own, we’ll have to buy things.’ Her heart beat faster as she remembered the previous night, the anger etched into Eddie’s face. Had he returned to his family and told them what a sham his marriage had turned out to be? Would he talk to her, much less allow her to persuade him to move into Mrs Edwards’s house? He’d suggested she look for a place, but had he meant it? And then this morning … She shuddered, unwilling to even consider the consequences of calling Eddie by his brother’s name. She had to see him, persuade him to move in with her, and quickly. Then she would show everyone how she could be the perfect wife. She didn’t think who exactly the ‘everyone’ she wanted to show, were.
‘You do want to live with Eddie, don’t you Jenny?’
‘Of course, Dad.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back.
‘It’s not just your way of trying to get back at your mother after the fuss she created last night and this morning? Because if it is …’ his voice trailed away awkwardly as embarrassment set in.
‘I wanted to marry him, Dad. We’ve just had a sticky beginning, that’s all.’
He cleared his throat, thinking back to his own wedding night. The one and only night he had slept with his wife, with disastrous consequences that had dogged the whole of his married life. The only good thing that had come out of the entire bitter, humiliating experience had been Jenny. He couldn’t help wondering if a similar situation now existed between his daughter and her husband. The prospect was too miserable to contemplate. It didn’t have to be like that between a man and a woman. He knew because there’d been others who’d been more of a wife to him than his own, especially Megan Powell, William and Diana’s mother. Perhaps that’s why he had such a soft spot for Eddie.
‘Dad,’ Jenny took his arm. ‘It was just Mam last night banging on the wall, that’s all. And this morning, it was just a stupid misunderstanding.’
‘You sure?’
‘I’m sure. When we have our own place we’ll be all right. I’ll go up to Graig Avenue and see Eddie now. Tell him to go to Leyshon Street tomorrow after work. She did say we could move in straight away?’
‘Tonight, but I told her tomorrow will do. I’ll carry your cases up for you.’
‘It will be all right, you’ll see,’ she reassured him, trying not to think of the look on Eddie’s face when she’d woken that morning.
‘Here, Eddie, take a look at these.’ Glan Richards walked to the corner of the gym where Eddie was skipping at high speed.
‘What you selling now?’ Eddie asked warily. Glan rarely offered anyone a free look at anything.
‘Something that a newly married man like you needs to give him inspiration.’
‘I don’t need inspiration.’
‘No? Then what you doing down here, wearing yourself out when you’ve a corker like Jenny keeping your bed warm at home?’
‘That’s enough!’ Joey Rees shouted. He’d been too far away to hear exactly what Glan had said to Eddie, but he knew his protégé well enough to read the change of expression on his face. Another word to Eddie, and Glan would be wearing his smile on the wrong side of his head, and he preferred to keep his boy’s talents for the ring. ‘This a gym or a gossip shop? Eddie, you’ve had enough for one night. Go home and thank Jenny for sparing you. Tell her that if she keeps you at this fitness level she’ll be spending that South African boy’s purse at the end of next month.’
Joey watched Eddie hang up the rope and sling a towel around his neck. Was it his imagination, or was the boy off colour? He’d certainly been troubled about something last night. Perhaps it was Jenny. Marriage took a bit of getting used to, and he hadn’t helped by being so hard on him. He’d pushed Eddie to the limit from the minute he’d walked in.
‘See you same time tomorrow, Joey.’
‘Make it a bit later if you like. We’ve got plenty of time before the big fight.’
‘Just trying to make sure I win.’
‘You will.’
Eddie followed Glan into the changing room. Making a beeline for the back, Glan was soon surrounded by a huddle of boys, who pored over the postcards he handed out with a suitable appreciative chorus of sniggers and titters. Ignoring them, Eddie went straight to his locker. He’d grown out of pin-ups when he was sixteen, probably as the result of exposure to the real thing.
‘Take a look?’ Glan shouted above the sea of heads.
‘No thanks, I’m going to wash.’ Eddie went to the men’s room. Filling a sink with cold water he splashed it over his face, then delved into his American cloth bag for the metal soap-dish that contained his own bar of Lifebuoy soap. The soap in the gym was dark green, multi-purpose washing soap that Joey bought in bulk from the laundry suppliers. It stank of grease and carbolic, a heavy cloying smell that lingered on the skin for days. Stripping down to his underpants, he washed himself and put on his trousers. Looking over his shoulder to check no one was watching, he took a small bottle of men’s cologne out of his bag. Not thinking about why he was doing it, he tossed drops liberally over his neck and chest, hiding the bottle before buttoning on his shirt. He Vaselined his hair and walked to the mirror to check his appearance, in case – just in case – Jenny was waiting to waylay him as he walked up the hill, so she could see what she’d turned down for Haydn. Pushing his kit into his bag he returned to the locker room to put on his socks and shoes. The crowd in the corner had grown, as had the noise they were making.
‘I haven’t seen this one before.’
‘She’s just a kid.’
‘Tell you what, I wouldn’t mind finding a kid like that in my bed.’
‘Go on, you dirty old man. She only looks about twelve.’
‘Look at those eyes. Twelve or not, she knows what’s what.’
‘And what she’s got may be small, but it’s all there.’
‘Come on Eddie, a look will cost you nothing,’ Glan coaxed. Eddie had a good job as well as boxing purses, which meant that he had more money to splash around than most of the gym’s patrons. Although Glan had never actually sold him anything, he lived in hope. He held up a stack of postcards. ‘Merv’s latest.’
‘And you’re flogging them at a quid for twelve.’
‘Tell you what,’ Glan walked over to Eddie’s locker and whispered, ‘seeing as how it’s you, and your need is greater than most, just being married and all, I’ll knock off my commission. Seventeen and six. How’s that for a bargain between mates?’
‘It’s great to know what friendship’s worth, especially when Merv gives you five bob in the pound.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because he offered me the job first.’
‘You can at least take a look.’
‘That’s a girl from the Revue,’ one of the boys shouted excitedly. ‘I saw her on stage.’ He thrust a pile of postcards into Eddie’s hands. ‘That one there, look.’
Eddie did just that. There was something familiar about the peroxide blonde. Stage right, on a pedestal? He cast his mind back to the Town Hall and the blue-lit stage, thick with billowing smoke. For once Glan’s sales pitch had hit somewhere near the truth. The girls were new. Merv must have persuaded the Revue nudes to pose for him when they were in town.
He flicked through the cards in a tired, desultory fashion. Jenny with her natural beauty had far more to offer than the overblown, over-made-up blonde – but then, he had to remind himself, that had been the old, pre-marriage Jenny. And no photograph had ever had the same effect on him as a glimpse of the real thing. A silk-clad knee, or a button undone half-way down a blouse with the promise of more to come, had more power to excite him than a full-length nude, even the live ones on stage in the Town Hall. He handed the cards back to the boy who’d given them to him.
‘You’ve got to see this one. Just look at the hair.’
‘It’s not the hair I’m interested in.’
‘That’s a wig. They were all wearing them in that scene in the Revue.’
The boy pressed another card on Eddie. It featured a different girl: shorter, smaller, and thinner than the last, although her face was still covered with a mask-like layer of make-up. Her lips were drawn into a cute bow, her eyebrows arched into fine lines. But there was something else. Something in the face that reminded him of someone. Someone he knew … He looked again. Half child, half woman; small breasts, much smaller than Jenny’s, he noted, taking satisfaction from the fact.
‘She has that effect on you, doesn’t she?’ Glan nudged. ‘Makes you want to look, and keep on looking. Though I’m not sure why. She hasn’t got as much to offer as the other two. Must be the eyes, I suppose. She seems to be looking straight at you. All I know is I wouldn’t mind a couple of hours alone with her.’
‘Got any more of this one?’
‘Here, six back shots, six front.’ Glan pushed them at Eddie, sensing a sale. ‘As you can see, a very tasty little piece.’
‘Very.’ Eddie said drily, seeing a way to get back at Haydn without even lifting a finger. ‘I’ll take these four. Five bob do it?’
Chapter Twenty-three
‘Thought I’d come backstage, admire my great brother and offer firewater to revive his jaded spirits.’ Eddie plonked a bottle of beer on to Haydn’s cluttered dressing shelf.
‘Thanks, but if you don’t mind I’ll leave it until after the second house. It’ll go down a treat once I know I’m through for the day.’
‘Suit yourself.’ Eddie opened a second bottle he was carrying, using a gadget attached to his pocket knife.
‘To what do I owe this honour?’ Haydn asked, hoping Babs would stay away until after the second house, as he’d asked her to.
‘I can visit you, can’t I?’
‘Any time. It’s great to see you. It’s just that I thought you’d be busy.’
‘I’ll never be too busy to talk to you, big brother.’
‘Glad to hear it.’ Haydn replied cautiously, wondering what was coming next. ‘How’s married life?’
‘You know of any reason why it shouldn’t be a bed of roses?’
‘None.’
‘There you are then.’
‘Been down the gym?’ Haydn asked, noticing the bag at Eddie’s feet.
‘Keeping my hand in. You know how it is. Can’t let anyone else aspire to the title of the most promising up-and-coming fighter in Wales. How’s life with you?’ Eddie raised his eyebrows as giggles resounded through the wall from the adjoining dressing room.
‘Can’t complain.’
‘Bet you can’t. Which one is it now?’
Before Haydn could answer Eddie’s barbed question, knuckles rapped at his door.
‘Come in.’
‘It’s only me.’ Jane stuck her head around. ‘Sorry, Haydn, didn’t know you had Eddie with you.’
‘No need to be sorry, I don’t bite.’
‘I know you don’t,’ she smiled. ‘The girls want ice creams. Do you want anything?’
Haydn shook his head. ‘Want anything, Eddie?’
‘No thanks.’ Sitting on the stool he propped his feet up on the wall and proceeded to drink the beer he’d brought. ‘She’s come a long way in a few short weeks,’ he commented after Jane left.
‘I suppose she has.’
‘William said you two are quite friendly.’
‘We are.’
‘You stuck to her like glue in Barry yesterday.’
‘Only because she’s never been there before. She’s a nice kid.’
‘Like everyone else, I’m wondering what plain Jane’s got that’s put all the crumpet in there -’ Eddie inclined his head towards the dressing room next door – ‘in the shade.’
‘They’re probably the reason I spend what little free time I have with Jane. What you see is what you get with her. There’s no false layers to dig through, of make-up or anything else.’
‘You think she’s honest?’
Haydn didn’t like his brother’s question. ‘There’s something innocent about her that reminds me of the way we used to be when we were kids.’ He turned to the mirror to check his make-up.
‘And that’s why you walk her home every night?’
‘There’s a few reasons, like we finish work at more or less the same time, and we go the same way.’
‘I’m surprised she doesn’t stop off in Station Yard.’
‘What do you mean?’ Haydn whirled around.
Eddie put his hand into his inside pocket. ‘Take a gander at these.’ He flung the photographs he’d bought on to the cluttered shelf below the mirror. ‘Bought them in the gym tonight. Glan was flogging them for the usual pound a dozen, but I managed to knock him down to six bob for those four. I think I did rather well. New girl and all that. But I don’t mind telling you she was the last one I expected to see posing for Merv. Still, what can you expect from a workhouse girl?’
Haydn reached out and picked up the photographs. The topmost one was a study of a brunette, ludicrously long hair cascading down over one shoulder, carefully arranged to give maximum exposure to her naked back. But there was no mistaking the features beneath the wig. Pouting lips, enormous eyes, thin cheeks. His mouth dried as he turned it over and stared at the one underneath: a full frontal view that left nothing to the imagination above the waist and very little below it. ‘Workhouse girl?’ he echoed dully, unconsciously reiterating Eddie’s last words.
Eddie had wanted to see Haydn hurting, he’d gambled on William being right about Haydn being infatuated with Jane, but he felt no jubilation on seeing Haydn’s pain. The triumph of getting his own back on a brother who still figured largely in his wife’s thoughts, and possibly even in her bed, disintegrated as he witnessed an anguish cross Haydn’s face that told of more than infatuation. All the resentment and envy he’d accumulated over Haydn’s past with Jenny dissolved in a wave of shame and disgust with himself for what he’d done.
‘Workhouse girl?’ Haydn repeated.
‘I shouldn’t have said anything. I promised not to.’
‘You knew all along she was from the workhouse?’
‘William said you were keen on the girl. I had no idea it was serious. If I had done, I wouldn’t have bought the photographs, I wouldn’t have come here.’
‘You would have let me find out from someone else?’
‘No … Yes … I don’t know! How was I expected to know you thought that much of Jane? You’ve never talked about her. Never said a word.’ Eddie tried to ease his guilt by shifting some of the blame on to his brother’s shoulders. ‘And it’s not as though you were about to marry her, or anything.’
‘No?’
‘Look, if you were thinking about going that far, then it’s just as well you found out about her now, before it’s too late.’
Haydn turned over the last photograph Eddie had given him. He looked at all four for a moment before laying them face down on the shelf. It was no use. He could see her still. Smiling face transformed by greasepaint into a doll-like mask, blatantly naked body, posed like a Revue trouper’s. ‘Tell me what you know about her.’
‘I promised -’
‘All the promises in the world won’t make any difference now. Not after these.’
Since childhood Eddie had been a fighter, possessing a physical strength and agility that had soon outstripped Haydn’s advantage of age. As a result, he had never been afraid of his older brother until now. There was an iciness in Haydn’s unnaturally calm composure that he found terrifying. If he’d been shown pin-up photographs of Jenny he would be smashing his fist into something by now. The door, Merv’s face, Glan for selling them …
‘She never told me about herself. I’d appreciate it if you would.’
‘She came into Charlie’s one morning. It was early. We’d only just opened up. She was wearing a workhouse dress. One of those grey flannel things, and she had clogs on her feet. She looked rough, as though she’d walked the streets all night. She didn’t have much money, and she was hungry so I gave her a pasty. The following Sunday Diana introduced her as the new lodger.’
‘Five-minute curtain call for Mr Powell. Five-minute curtain call for Mr Haydn Powell. Five-minute call for Miss Babs Bradley.’
Haydn looked into the mirror. He picked up a stick of flesh-coloured greasepaint and applied it to his chin and nose. Puffing powder on his face, he coated his lips with a lurid red. Every move seemed to be taking place in slow motion, as though he were underwater.
‘That’s all I know, Haydn.’
‘Then why did she make you promise not to tell anyone?’
Haydn was looking at his own face in the mirror, yet all he could see was Jane posed shamelessly in front of the camera. He looked down. The sales legend on the back of the cards leered up at him:
‘Want to see more, apply to this box number care of Pontypridd Post Office.’
‘More?’ Was she working out of Merv’s back room instead of Station Square? Warmer, cosier and easier money than sewing for the chorus.
‘I’m not sure, but I think there might be something fishy about the way she got out of the workhouse.’
Haydn didn’t even hear what Eddie said. He’d been a fool to think that Jane was special, someone he could care for. She was no different from any of the showgirls he’d slept with, except physically. Plain Jane! The ugly duckling who worked among swans. But her ugliness hadn’t stopped her from behaving just like every other woman he’d met. She was out for Jane Jones. No one else. Out for what she could get, and perfectly capable of using any man stupid enough to say he loved her. His first impression had been the right one. She’d do anything to earn a quick shilling or two – or better still, a pound.
‘Three-minute curtain call for Mr Haydn Powell.’
