‘Are we going to eat like this every night when we’re married?’ Sam forked the last of the slice of cream sponge on his plate into his mouth and pushed his chair back from the table.
‘No.’ Judy refilled her sherry glass.
‘And that’s because?’
‘I won’t have time to cook.’
‘We haven’t talked about you giving up work yet.’
‘And we won’t, because the subject’s not up for discussion,’ she warned. ‘I am going to carry on working once we’re married, full stop.’
‘And what happens when I work odd shifts, like I am now?’
‘You’ll cope, just as you’re coping now.’
‘Who says I cope?’
‘If you can’t, then we’ll have to pay someone to do your washing and ironing and cook your meals.’ She cleared their dishes into the kitchen and stacked them next to the sink. Much as she hated getting up in the morning to a messy kitchen, she couldn’t face washing them. Returning to the living room, she picked her glass and the bottle of sherry, and curled up on the sofa.
‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ he questioned in amazement. ‘You’d pay someone to do your housework for you?’
‘Just as I pay girls to work in the hairdressing salons, yes,’ she answered flatly. ‘It makes sense, Sam. My mother and I draw good wages from the salons, so why shouldn’t I use some of it to employ someone to do the things I hate, like housework and laundry?’
‘You hate housework?’
‘That surprises you?’
‘Yes.’
‘I have no objection to you doing it.’ She looked sideways at him. ‘Go on, say it.’
‘What?’
‘It’s women’s work.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ He set his glass of beer on the coffee table and joined her.
‘That remark doesn’t even warrant an answer.’ She threw a cushion at him before refilling her sherry glass.
‘I’ve never seen you drink this much before.’ He caught the cushion and set it aside.
‘I am not drunk.’
‘I didn’t say you were, but one sherry is usually your limit, you’ve had five.’
‘Now you’re counting.’
‘I didn’t mean it that way.’ He slipped his arm around her shoulders. ‘Is the bed aired?’
‘It was when I slept in it last night.’
‘Good.’
‘Where did you park your bike?’
‘Two streets away and before you ask, no one saw me creep in here.’
‘Just because you didn’t see any curtains twitching …’
‘Curtains, nothing, you’re talking to an experienced policeman who can sense when he’s being watched, so, pretty please, can I stay the night?’
‘Not all night.’ She finished the sherry in her glass and poured herself another.
‘Why not? I don’t have to get up in the morning. Mike’s doing my shift.’
‘I don’t want to risk someone seeing you here tomorrow morning.’
‘Like who?’
‘I have neighbours.’
‘Who don’t know I’m here. Come on, Judy,’ he persuaded, ‘as neither of us have to work tomorrow, we could have a lie in, then while you have a long, lazy bath, I’ll do the washing up and cook brunch for us before we pick up your mother and Roy, and go to visit my mother. What do you say?’
‘All right,’ she murmured, too tired and full of sherry to argue. Tomorrow they were going to discuss their wedding arrangements with their parents and in a few weeks they’d be spending every night together. The sooner she became accustomed to sleeping in the same bed as him, the sooner she’d adjust to married life.
Although the duty member of staff had propped the window sash open the regulation three inches before pulling the curtains, the air in the bedroom was fetid and stale. It was also freezing.
Emily shivered beneath a single blanket in her cramped, narrow bed, eyes wide open as she stared blindly up at the shadows that shrouded the ceiling. Around her, the seven other women breathed, snuffled and in one case, snored loudly in their sleep and she hated them simply for being there.
Her mother had insisted that all her children move into a room of their own on their second birthday, and even on the frequent occasions when she’d stayed over with friends, she had generally been given a guest room to herself. The only times she had shared with anyone were on the holidays she had taken with Angie and her other girlfriends when they had doubled up in French and London hotels – and the times that she and Robin had sneaked into one another’s rooms at house parties.
Thoughts and memories of Robin tumbled in disarray through her mind, dating back to the time she had returned from her first – and last – London season with her mother. Robin appearing darkly handsome in a dinner jacket at Larry’s twenty-first birthday party; Robin asking her to dance on the wooden stage set up in front of the band in the marquee on her parents’ lawn; Robin feeding her champagne and strawberries as he had teased her and Angie. She had always liked him but that night she had fallen in love. And when he had invited her to the theatre shortly afterwards, she hadn’t doubted that he had been hit by the same thunderbolt as her.
Robin being tender, romantic, undressing her and making love to her for the first time in his bedroom and, from that moment on, every time they met. Robin introducing her to peculiar books full of even more peculiar illustrations and persuading her to join him in what he called ‘adventures’, which she had agreed to because she was besotted with him.
Robin slipping a ring on to her finger at their engagement party in her parents’ house in front of both their families and friends while a band had played ‘With This Ring’ – his choice. Occasionally afterwards she had felt that he was taking her for granted, but she had assumed that no relationship, even perfect loving ones like theirs, could be sustained on that initial breathtaking plane. And even when he had neglected her when they were out with friends or at parties, he had always ended the evening by making love to her. Even when her father went to prison and the invitations to social functions dried up, he had insisted their engagement continue right up until the moment she had told him she was pregnant. With hindsight, she realised that after that conversation his whole attitude to her had changed.
A tear fell from her eye. The knowledge that Robin no longer cared for her, and possibly never had in the way that she had loved him, was extraordinarily painful. But she forced herself to face facts. He had abandoned her as soon as she told him she was carrying his child, and that was not the action of the man she thought she knew. If he truly loved her, he would have stayed with her at the party and remained at her side throughout all the snubs and jibes. He would never have left her to Angie and Thompson – or had he been in on their scheming from the beginning? Had the three of them planned the events of that night so he could free himself from the double scandal of her pregnancy and her father’s crimes?
She turned over in the bed and buried her face in the pillow, as a second tear fell from her eye.
Maggie stretched out an arm and held out a handkerchief. ‘Take it, it’s clean.’
Emily managed a wan smile and folded it into her palm.
‘You’ll get used to this place. When you leave, it will seem like a bad dream. A couple of years and you will find it difficult to believe that you were ever here.’
Clutching the handkerchief, Emily curled into a tight foetal ball, facing away from Maggie’s bed. ‘I hope so,’ she muttered, lacking the courage to look that far forward.
‘Judy …’ Sam muttered sleepily.
‘Go back to sleep,’ she whispered, as she stole from the bed. She went into the bathroom, locked the door, threw up the toilet seat and vomited the sherry and most of the meal she’d eaten earlier into the toilet.
For all the time and care she’d expended on cooking, decorating the table, and getting in the drinks, her mother’s advice hadn’t worked. It hadn’t been any easier for her to accept Sam’s lovemaking than it had been the very first time she had allowed him into her bed.
‘I thought pink would be nice for the bridesmaids,’ Ena Davies, Sam’s mother gushed, as Joy with Billy on her lap, Roy, Judy and Sam sat around the tea table she’d prepared for them. ‘And I’ve found the perfect shade of figured nylon. Sam has six cousins. The oldest is ten, the youngest two. They will look so sweet walking down the aisle behind you in pairs, with crowns of pink rosebuds in their hair and carrying bouquets of pink roses.’
‘Don’t you think pink crowns, bouquets and dresses will be too much pink?’ Judy enquired diplomatically.
‘These sandwiches are ham and cress, the ones next to your plate, salmon and cucumber, Mr Williams.’ Ignoring Judy’s reaction, Ena fussed over Roy.
‘Please call me Roy.’ He gave Judy a look of commiseration that also managed to suggest forbearance, and took a sandwich from the plate Ena handed him.
‘Roy,’ she repeated coyly, fluttering her lashes, ‘and you must call me Ena.’
‘Thank you, Ena.’
Unable to keep a straight face, Joy concentrated on Billy, who was subdued in the unfamiliar surroundings.
‘But you must have relatives that you want to invite to be bridesmaids as well, Judy?’ Ena passed Joy a paper napkin.
‘No.’
‘Probably just as well.’ Ena poured out the tea and handed cups down the table to her guests. ‘Six is a tidy number. I went into town yesterday and picked up a swatch of that material I was telling you about.’ She delved into her bulging pinafore pocket and pulled out a square of almost luminous, pink figured nylon. ‘Of course you can’t see the full flower pattern from this, so you’ll have to take my word how pretty it is. If you pull out that drawer behind you, Joy … Not that one, the next one down. There’s a pattern on top for a bridesmaid’s dress that Mrs Howells next door used for her daughter’s wedding. The minute I read Sam’s letter telling me that you’d been to see the vicar to fix the date, I went round to her house and borrowed it. Have you thought about a dress yet, Judy?’
‘No.’
‘Of course you haven’t,’ she broke in blithely, answering her own question. ‘How silly of me, you’ll want me to help you choose it. And there’ll be all the accessories, your veil, headdress and so on. We’ll go shopping together.’ She beamed at Joy, who was watching Judy intently and wondering just how much longer it would be before she’d lose her temper.
‘Please, hand Judy the pattern, Joy.’ She waited until Judy took it. ‘Isn’t it pretty? Mrs Howells’s daughter’s dress was cut along similar lines …’
‘It’s ballerina length.’ Judy set the pattern aside.
‘Such a nice length for a bride and bridesmaids, don’t you think?’ Ena babbled, insensible to Judy’s disapproval. ‘No long hems to trail in the mud or trip little ones up. Mrs Richards – that’s our local dressmaker – made Mrs Howells’s daughter’s dress as well as the bridesmaids. If you like, I could ask her if she’ll make yours. She’s very busy of course, booked up for weeks ahead …’
‘I’d like to buy my dress.’
‘Given the short time we have to arrange everything, it might be just as well.’ Ena nibbled a crumpet.
‘And the bridesmaids’ dresses,’ Judy added.
Ena giggled. ‘Now that would be extravagant. Besides, I’ve already settled with Mrs Richards that she will make them. Now about the mothers’ outfits. I think they should be bought together with the bride’s dress to make sure they’ll look well on the photographs. Not exactly matching, you understand … do try one of those scotch eggs, Joy. I made them myself. I’ll give you the recipe. Sam loves my scotch eggs, don’t you, Sam?’
Sam grunted agreement through a full mouth.
‘Now where was I? Of course, the hotel. Sam said you’ve booked the reception.’
‘In the Mackworth.’
‘I hope they have a big room. There’ll be one hundred and eleven coming from our side of the family.’
‘One hundred and eleven,’ Joy echoed faintly.
‘We’re a big family and everyone loves Sam, so they all want to be there. Of course that figure includes one or two close friends. Now the menu, Judy, I think chicken. Don’t you agree, Joy? Everyone likes chicken and it always goes down so much better than pork, lamb or beef at a wedding. And prawn cocktails to start. Your cousin Doris had those at her wedding last year, Sam, do you remember? They looked ever so nice. Smart, different and less messy than soup. Easier for the little ones to eat, although I’m never sure prawns are good for them. Bit too sophisticated, don’t you think, Joy?’
‘I –’
‘Peas and carrots for vegetables, with roast and boiled potatoes, and stuffing, naturally.’
‘Naturally,’ Judy broke in, wondering if her future mother-in-law’s mouth would start unravelling if she talked any longer.
‘And ice cream for afters, everyone likes ice cream. Coffee of course. And flowers. Have you thought about the flowers, Joy?’
‘Judy and I –’
‘Lilies look good at weddings; they would go with the pink rosebuds too, you can have both in your bouquet, Judy. We have ever such a good florist in Neath. She does a lovely bouquet. I can see it now, white lilies and a spattering of pink rosebuds to pick up the colour in the bridesmaids’ dresses. You can have them in your headdress as well. And in vases on the tables at the wedding breakfast. Your cousin Sidney –’
‘Who’s Sidney?’ Sam interposed between bites of pork pie.
‘Ernie and Mabel’s son, he has a taxi business and he’s bought two posh cars that he hires out for weddings. He’ll give them to you at discount if you ask him. Oh and I’ve got the address of that hotel for you.’
‘What hotel?’ Sam asked blankly.
‘The one in Blackpool your cousin Sandra honeymooned in. She said it was lovely, a real home away from home –’
‘I don’t want to go to Blackpool.’
Sam’s mother looked at Judy as if she’d taken leave of her senses. ‘All our family go to Blackpool for their honeymoon, dear. It’s a lovely place.’
‘I’ve been there and I don’t want to go there again.’ Judy looked to Sam for support, but he appeared to be engrossed in his pie.
‘You didn’t like it?’ Ena couldn’t have been more affronted if Judy had insulted her personally.
‘Perhaps Sam and Judy have somewhere else in mind, Ena,’ Joy suggested smoothly, as Judy began to look mutinous.
‘Sam! What do you have to say about this?’ Mrs Davies turned to her son.
‘We might go to Jersey, Mam.’
‘Jersey! I’ve never heard of anything so extravagant in my life. Going abroad just when you’re starting out and have so many things to buy? And that’s another thing, Judy, I’ve lots of odd cups and plates you can have and some old blankets. They’ve gone a bit – well, bobbly – you know what I mean, but they’re perfectly serviceable, good and warm.’
‘I have my own things, in my own flat.’
‘You’ve been living as a single girl, Judy. Not a married woman. You have Sam to look after now.’
Judy closed her mouth, as Joy kicked her ankle. Sam still refused to meet her eye, so she did the most politic thing she could think of. Left the table and walked down the garden to the ty bach.
‘Are you sure you two won’t come in for a cup of tea?’ Joy asked Judy and Sam, as Roy lifted a sleepy Billy from the back of Judy’s car and carried him to his front door.
‘No thanks, Mam,’ Judy refused. ‘I’ve had about as much tea as I can drink for one day.’
‘See you soon then, darling.’
‘Yes, see you soon.’ Judy revved the engine and her mother closed the door.
‘I warned you that my mother would be interested in our wedding preparations,’ Sam said, as she drove along Carlton Terrace.
‘Interested!’ Judy swerved the car around the corner. ‘She’s taking over. Bridesmaids’ dresses, flowers, cars, even the honeymoon.’
‘You have to learn to put your foot down.’
‘Like you, I suppose. You hardly said a word to her all afternoon and if what you did say was indicative of putting your foot down, I for one, missed the message.’
‘It’s the only way to deal with her. It’s what my father used to do when he was alive and it’s the way my brother and I cope with her now. It makes for a quiet life if you listen to what she has to say. Afterwards you can do your own thing.’
‘Like boycott Blackpool as a honeymoon venue. And since when are we going to Jersey?’ she questioned angrily.
‘I didn’t say we were going, I said I was thinking about it.’
‘You didn’t tell me you were thinking about it.’
‘Because I only picked up the brochure last Friday and since then we’ve been a bit preoccupied with other things. Come on, Judy, I know my mother can be overbearing, but don’t you think you’re being too sensitive? Bridal nerves and all that?’
‘No, I don’t!’
‘She means well.’
‘So did Attila the Hun.’
‘Are you sure?’ He smiled as she glanced across at him. ‘As I’m still on afternoons next week, I’ll go shopping with you on Tuesday morning and try to keep her under control.’
‘We’ll be going to dress shops,’ she warned.
‘It will prove how much I love you.’
As Judy continued to drive along the road that skirted the broad sweep of Swansea Bay, she couldn’t help feeling that the world was closing in on her, claustrophobic, constraining. It was almost as though her marriage to Sam was going to mark the end of her life, not the beginning. Time was racing, preparations were being made; in a few weeks she’d find herself married and, if her mother-in-law had her way, honeymooning in a hotel in Blackpool. And she felt absolutely powerless to stop it.
‘Jack, is that you?’ Helen called downstairs as she heard a key turn in the lock of the front door.
‘No, it’s the bogeyman,’ he shouted, as he stepped into the hall. He caught sight of his rust and grease-stained overalls in the mirror and remained standing on the tiled floor.
‘You’re late. I promised my father we’d be at his house by half past seven and it’s after seven now.’ Helen appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘You look as though Martin and Brian used you as a mop to clean the garage.’
He bent down and unlaced his boots. ‘It wasn’t the garage, Brian had that professionally cleaned, it was the second-hand tools Marty bought. They were filthy.’
‘I hope you’ve finished, because if you haven’t, you’ll be putting those clothes on again tomorrow. There’s no way I’m risking clogging my washing machine or staining my mangle with them, they can go in the bin.’
‘Every tool is now sparkling.’
‘Unlike you.’
‘If you think I’m bad, you should see Marty. God only knows why he insisted on cleaning every piece back to the bare metal. They’re only going to get dirty again as soon as he uses them.’
‘Is everything ready for the opening on Monday?’
‘It will be after Brian, Marty and I put in another couple of hours tomorrow. But as it’s mainly sorting the office and racking the tools, we shouldn’t get into anything like this state again.’ Removing his boots, he went to put them on the doormat.
‘No!’
‘Then where?’
‘Leave them on the tiles, they’re easier to clean.’
He smiled up at her. ‘If you’re thinking of going to the party in that petticoat, it’s only fair to warn you I can see right through it. And those rollers.’ He shook his head, ‘I’m not up on fashion but that particular shade of pink plastic doesn’t go with blonde hair.’
‘It’s easy to see who you’ve been working with all day, you even sound like Brian.’ A towel landed at his feet. ‘Strip.’
‘That sounds hopeful.’
‘Forget any thoughts you had in that direction, we’re late, remember?’
‘After Katie and Glyn’s welcome home party?’ he suggested.
‘That depends entirely on how much you drink. If your feet are clean under your socks, bundle everything you’re wearing into your vest, inside out. As it’s furthest from those overalls it should be the cleanest and least likely to drip dirt around the place. Then dump everything in the bin in the back porch. I’ll start running you a bath. From where I’m standing, it looks as though I should tip in a dozen handfuls of washing soda and the scrubbing brush, and that’s just to get the dirt out of your hair.’
‘Don’t bother to clean the bath after Marty, Lily, I’ll do it, and,’ Brian gave her a rueful smile, ‘I promise to scrub it out again after I’ve used it.’
‘I thought Marty came home from the council depot filthy, but he’s never been in this state before.’
‘Don’t touch the linen bin,’ Brian warned as she went to pick it up, ‘not until I’ve cleaned off the greasy finger marks.’
‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Closing the bathroom door, she walked into the bedroom where Martin was towelling himself dry. ‘Have you finished cleaning the tools, or can I expect you two in the same state tomorrow?’
‘We have to put in a couple of hours tomorrow to get everything ready but it’ll be relatively clean work.’
‘I know your idea of relatively clean.’
‘I’ll just be racking the tools and sorting where to put things in the workshops so they’ll be to hand.’ His face shone as he turned towards her. ‘It was a brilliant idea of Brian’s to go to that auction. We had some real bargains.’
‘Even after all the elbow grease you put into cleaning everything.’ She smiled at the expression on his face. He looked like a little boy who had been given his first bike.
‘The work we put in was worth it. I knew I’d bought some good stuff, but I didn’t realise just how good until we stripped off the rust and grease. Why don’t you drive over with us tomorrow and take a look at the workshops? They’re not as big as the ones in the depot but thanks to the auction, they’ll be better equipped. They’re a mechanic’s dream.’
‘And I’m forgiven for organising the loan,’ she interrupted hopefully, as she opened his wardrobe and lifted out a clean shirt.
‘You can’t blame me for worrying,’ he murmured defensively.
‘Here, you missed a bit.’ Taking the towel from him she dried his back between his shoulder blades.
‘I won’t be happy about the overdraft until we’ve repaid every penny, but from the way the place looks, if we fail, it won’t be from the want of trying.’ He retrieved the damp towel and tossed it on to the bed.
‘You’ll soak the bed,’ she reprimanded, picking it up and folding it over the towel stand.
‘Sorry.’ He held out his arms and looked down at the bed.
‘Dress, or we’ll never get next door.’
‘There’s bags of time. Brian isn’t even out of the bath yet and he has to scrub it and dress. And besides, you look fantastically and deliciously plump, just like a wife should.’
‘Plump!’ Her heart missed a beat. Had he guessed her secret?
‘Rounded in all the right places or is it the blouse? I’ve never noticed it so tight over your bust before. I have this uncontrollable urge to flick the buttons …’
‘Don’t you dare!’ She glanced in the mirror as she backed away from him and realised it had been optimistic of her to hope that Martin wouldn’t notice she had gone up two bra sizes in the last two months. ‘My blouse must have shrunk in the wash,’ she lied.
‘Then I advise you to shrink all your blouses.’ He caught her and opened the top few buttons.
‘Marty,’ she protested half-heartedly, laughing as he imprisoned her in his arms. ‘I’m all ready …’
‘You were all ready.’ He pulled her gently down on to the counterpane.
‘Am I clean?’
Helen looked critically at Jack and rummaged in the bottom of her handbag. ‘I can’t see. Turn around. You had a great big black mark on the back of your head when you came in.’
‘Has it gone?’ He straightened the sleeves on his sports jacket.
‘It has. Jack, why don’t you wear a suit? Both of them are –’
‘Too small.’
‘Not your suits as well,’ she sighed. ‘You only wore them once or twice before you went into the army. Have you any idea how much I paid to have them cleaned?’
‘Sorry, love, but the sports coat will have to do until the next wedding.’
‘Which is Judy’s and only a couple of months away. Damn!’
‘Problem?’ he asked innocently, as she turned her handbag upside down and tipped the contents on to the hall table.
‘I can’t find my keys.’ She looked at him in exasperation. ‘Instead of standing there grinning like a fool, you could help me to look for them.’
‘Want me to drive?’ He dangled them in front of her.
‘Not after what you did the last time you got behind the wheel of my car.’
‘Then come on the back of my bike.’
‘In this dress, absolutely not! You’re infuriating.’ She snatched the keys from him.
‘You shouldn’t leave them where you can’t find them.’
‘Which was?’ She held out her arms so he could help her on with her coat.
‘The kitchen table.’
‘Blast, I left them there so I wouldn’t forget the –’
‘Cake you promised to pick up from Eynon’s for your father?’ He held up the box.
‘Think you’re so smart.’
‘Yes, I do.’ He kissed her lips before opening the door. ‘Look who I married for a start.’
‘Damn!’ she reiterated, as she started the car.
‘What now?’ Jack asked patiently.
‘A letter came for you, second post today. I meant to give it to you.’
‘Whatever it is, it can’t be important enough to make us any later than we already are.’
‘You sure?’ Helen pushed the gear into reverse.
‘I’ll read it when we get home.’
*……*……*
‘It’s nothing but parties for us these days. First Jack’s homecoming, now this, and in eleven weeks mine and Judy’s wedding.’ Teetering on the edge between merry and drunk, Sam beamed benignly at John and every man in the kitchen, with the exception of Brian.
‘Pity Glyn isn’t old enough to join us, John. This malt of yours is nectar, the best I’ve ever tasted, and I’ve tasted some corkers in my time.’ Roy sniffed his glass before sipping it slowly and appreciatively.
‘From the way the women are fussing over Glyn in the living room, I’d say he’s not faring too badly.’ Brian offered his cigarettes around. ‘And you left one party out, Sam, we’ll be organising an event to mark the opening of the garage. At Will and Ronnie’s expense,’ Brian added quickly when Martin scowled.
‘Good idea.’ Jack drew his brother aside. ‘I’ve been thinking …’
‘I thought you were on your second honeymoon.’
‘Very funny, Marty. You know that apprentice you’re thinking of taking on?’
‘After I’ve sorted just how much work I’ll have for him and how much money will be coming in,’ Martin qualified.
‘I’ve come up with someone.’
‘Who?’
‘Me.’
‘You?’ Martin scoffed. ‘You don’t know one end of a car from the other.’
‘I would if I went to night school.’
‘Apprentices only earn a couple of quid a week. You’re a married man with a wife to support.’
‘And an apprentice’s wages will be a nice little boost to the wages and commission Brian will be paying me to sell cars.’ Jack opened a bottle of beer and topped up both their glasses.
‘You want to work for both of us at the same time?’
‘The penny has finally dropped.’
Martin’s frown deepened. ‘It wouldn’t work.’
‘Why not? It’s not as if the garage is going to be that busy when it opens, at first anyway, and you’d save the cost of a worker between you.’
‘Men in suits sell cars, not grease monkeys in overalls,’ Martin declared, ‘and you can’t service cars in a suit. Not if you want to wear it afterwards.’
‘So, I’ll wear overalls over my suit – when I get one – when I work for you and take them off when I work for Brian.’
‘Have you any idea how filthy a mechanic’s job is?’
‘After today, yes,’ Jack said deprecatingly, ‘and oil-stained overalls will give the impression that I know what I’m talking about when I recommend a car to a customer.’
‘That might be difficult when you haven’t a clue what’s under the bonnet.’
‘How hard can it be to learn?’
‘It took me four years of hard graft to get my certificates,’ Martin rejoined acidly. ‘And you’ve only ever driven army vehicles.’
‘And Helen’s car for the last fortnight.’
‘And you didn’t scrape it on the gate?’ Martin crowed.
‘How did you find out about that?’ Jack demanded. ‘Helen swore she wouldn’t tell anyone.’
‘Lily saw the scratch when you pulled up tonight.’
‘Isn’t there anything those girls don’t tell one another?’ Jack griped.
Martin recalled Judy sitting in their kitchen the day he and Lily had quarrelled and Lily’s admission that they had discussed his reluctance to go into the garage. ‘Not much.’
‘I drove all sorts in the army,’ Jack boasted. ‘Did I mention that I gained a HGV licence as well as –’
‘Yes. And please don’t try to impress me with the skills you acquired in the army,’ Martin implored. ‘I know exactly what they’re worth and what army drivers are like. They jump in and out of the nearest empty vehicle and leave checking the oil, water, petrol and tyres to the grease wallah. There could be camels under the bonnet for all they know.’
‘I’ve talked to Brian …’
‘He has.’ Brian joined them. ‘You’re the one who’s worried about money, Marty,’ he reminded. ‘And what’s the worst that can happen if Jack grafting for both of us doesn’t work out? We’ll have to bring in someone else.’ He shrugged his shoulders as he answered his own question.
‘At practically no notice.’
‘That doesn’t mean we won’t find the right person for the job.’
‘And it will give me a chance to find out if I’m more suited to being a salesman or mechanic,’ Jack pressed persuasively.
‘Stop worrying,’ Brian slapped Martin’s back. ‘Everything is going to work out just fine.’