Jennie and Lucy went back to their parents. Lucy was rather disappointed – having been treating the flat-sharing as a practice for when she ran a home for her husband – but eventually she gave in to Jennie’s persuasions not to look for somewhere else to practice their independence.
‘What worries me, Luce,’ Jennie confessed, as they gathered the last of their possessions into boxes, watched by a suspicious landlady ‘is I often think of getting married one day and having a home of my own, but after a few weeks here I can’t see me managing to look after it. I’d hate all that routine of boring jobs Mam has to do. I’ll have to find someone very rich.’
‘I wouldn’t worry, most people start in two rooms, like Gerald and I will, or sometimes sharing the house with your parents. There won’t be much to do, not until you move into something bigger, when you have a child.’
‘A child?’ Jennie gave a shuddering sigh, the prospect clearly horrifying. ‘Oh, I don’t think I could cope with a child. Our Marie’s three are enough to put me off motherhood.’
‘You’ll be lucky to find someone who’s rich and doesn’t want to start building a family.’
‘A family? You mean more than one?’ She exaggerated the look of horror on her face. ‘That’s it, I’ll stay fancy free for ever.’
‘We’re heading for the dreaded thirty now, mind,’ Lucy warned, trying to hide a smile. ‘And the fancy-free bit doesn’t last much longer than this. I’ll be glad to marry Gerald.’
‘And have children?’ Jennie was still pulling faces to make her friend laugh but Lucy remained serious.
‘Oh yes, if it isn’t too late. One or two. There’s no point in anything unless there are children.’
‘Who told you that yarn?’ Jennie shook her finger. ‘Blackmail, that’s what that is. Or a great big confidence trick, like someone bathing in the sea, blue all over, shivering fit to fall to pieces and saying “It’s lovely, you must come in!”’
Jennie rarely mentioned the prospect of Lucy marrying her Gerald. Apart from Lucy’s visits to his parents and an occasional letter, there was no evidence he was ever going to name the day. Lucy had been waiting for him to decide for six years. She saw the unhappiness in her friend’s eyes and regretted her remarks. A mention of children was something to avoid in future, even in jest.
A taxi came to take them to their separate homes and they both looked back with dismay at the failure of their brief flight to freedom. Lucy was dropped off first and she paid her share of the taxi, then Jennie began to work up sobs and a tearful countenance, ready to be greeted by her mother’s open arms. The taxi driver saw her and turned slightly to ask, ‘Is there something wrong, miss?’
‘No, there isn’t!’ she snapped, with no sign of the tearful performance she was preparing. ‘Mind your business and keep your eyes on the road, why don’t you!’
It was seven o’clock on a Friday evening, and to her dismay she saw her sister standing beside her mother when the door opened. Disapproval was a constant feature of Marie’s face these days, she thought. Behind them her father waved a welcome. She grabbed her shoulder bag and ran past them indoors, tears in her eyes and distress on her face, her mother following, leaving Marie and her father to bring in the rest of the boxes and pay the driver.
‘Jennie, love?’ her father called, as he walked into the hallway, where a sad Belle was staring up the stairs.
‘Leave her a minute or two.’ Belle said. ‘Upset she is, anyone can see that. She was so enjoying having a place of her own.’
Marie said nothing.
When Jennie had calmed down from her self-imposed tearful state, she sat warming her hands on the cup of tea Marie had made and said sadly. ‘I feel so let down by Lucy, Mam. We were doing fine but she wanted to go back where she could save a bit more money ready for her wedding to boring old Gerald.’
‘It wasn’t that looking after yourself was too much for you?’ Marie said innocently, unable to resist some gentle teasing. ‘I thought it was you who’d had enough.’
‘Hush, Marie.’ Belle scolded. ‘Lucy would say that.’ She patted Jennie’s arm, glared at Marie and went out to attend to the meal.
‘’Specially if it were true!’ Marie muttered, grinning at Jennie. Their parents came back having dealt with the meal and stored the boxes of Jennie’s belongings in her room, and Marie said soothingly, ‘Mam and Dad are so pleased to have you back and I’m sure it’s for the best, Jennie.’ Playing Jennie’s game was a way of life. She caught her sister’s eye and saw laughter there. Marie was smiling as she went home to her family.
Although it was a relief to settle back into the comfort of home, Jennie knew she had to do something to get away, before she was trapped into the situation she had always dreaded, that of being the dutiful daughter staying home and looking after Mam and Dad for the rest of their life and most of her own.
Bill James would have been no great catch, working on the railway and with no ambition to rise higher than a ticket clerk. Who did he think he was, treating her so badly? She had convinced herself she’d had a lucky escape, although she was still hurt at the way he had humiliated her. Being Jennie, she tried to plan a revenge in which humour was stronger than resentment. She needed to do something to give herself and Lucy a good laugh.
If she could find someone both good looking and rich she’d make him jealous and it would be she having the last laugh if he recognized what he’d missed. He’d regret reducing her to a terrified wreck with his demands and accusations.
‘Who do we know who’s handsome and rich, Lucy?’ she asked her friend the following morning as they left two clients under the dryers and had a few moments to drink a cup of tea. Lucy’s eyes twinkled as she nodded towards the street door, which, on cue, opened to allow their boss to enter.
‘Is everything all right?’ he asked as Jennie spluttered over her tea, trying to subdue her laughter. ‘Not upset about anything, are you?’
Calming herself she said, ‘No, we’re trying to cheer ourselves up after leaving the flat. As I told you, I’m worried about Mam and Dad. They’re getting on a bit, see, and Mam hurting her arm and, well, I felt it was my duty to stay. Just till they’re feeling better. I let Lucy down but she understands that I have to think of my parents, don’t you, Luce?’
‘Very commendable,’ he said and when he’d disappeared into the house, Jennie mimicked him. ‘“Very commendable!” There’s a way to talk! Not “There’s kind,” but, “Very commendable.” What a stuffed shirt.’
They hissed a warning as the door to the house reopened and Mr James came back. ‘Jennie, when you have a moment, I’d like a word.’
‘Yes, Mr James.’ Then in a whisper, ‘See? There he goes again. He’d like a word, not, “Will you pop in for a moment,” like a normal person would say.’
‘I wonder what he wants?’ Lucy said. ‘I hope he isn’t closing the business.’
‘It’ll be nothing exciting, that’s for sure.’ She posed dramatically, and said, ‘My life is devoid of excitement, Miss Jones. What do you recommend I do to change it?’ She giggled. ‘There, did I sound like him?’
Behind the door, Ernie James listened, and chuckled with them. She was a real livewire, that Jennie.
Jennie waited until the shop closed at half past five before she knocked on the dividing door and went to see Mr James. He was sitting in shirtsleeves, working on some papers, and he closed his fountain pen and placed it carefully on his desk as she approached.
‘You wanted to see me?’ she said.
‘Yes, that’s right, I wanted you to “pop in”.’ He was smiling and she guessed that he had overheard some of their conversation. She sat on an armchair and waited for him to explain what he wanted. If he thought she was going to apologize he was very mistaken.
He reached into a drawer of his desk and brought out two tickets. ‘I was given these. It’s a variety concert in Cardiff. I wondered whether you fancied going.’ She looked at him wide eyed. Surely he didn’t mean with him? If only he’d mentioned the date so she could offer a genuine-sounding excuse to decline ‘There are two,’ Mr James added, ‘and I thought you and Lucy might like to go. Perhaps your sister would stay with your parents.’
Relieved, she stood up, thanked him and was about to take the tickets when Bill came in.
‘What’s this, secret assignations with the workers? The shop is closed, isn’t it?’ His father looked angry and Jennie felt a need to hurt his son. She turned back to Mr James. ‘I’d love to go with you. I’m really looking forward to it. Thank you for inviting me.’ Without giving the surprised man or his son a moment to recover, she left.
They hadn’t been anywhere together since their visit to Swansea. He had invited her but she had refused. He had obviously taken her refusals to heart and now she had invited herself.
She regretted her stupidity immediately but felt there was no way of getting out of it. Surely Mr James would find a way. Invent some previous engagement that made him unable to go with her. The evening was less than a week away and, as the days passed and nothing was said she began to consider various illnesses as an excuse to get out of going.
‘What can I do?’ she wailed. ‘What if Bill gets nasty and tells his father stories about us?’
‘Something contagious is best, spots on your face, or a runny nose, put rouge on it to make it look sore,’ Lucy advised unsympathetically, making fun of her friend’s dilemma.
Jennie made no further reference to the plan but found herself making cheeky remarks to customers when she knew Mr James was listening. Watching him smile gave her enjoyment and made her feel smart and worldly. She said little to Lucy; the expected derisory comments would have spoilt her growing anticipation of a pleasant evening.
On Saturdays they worked until one o’clock but they stayed on so they could set each other’s hair. Lucy took even more care than usual over Jennie’s bleached curls. ‘There’s no escape,’ she teased. ‘You’re going to the theatre with your boss. An old, old man.’
As an added treat, making matters worse, Mr James invited her to have a meal with him first. She hoped it would be at the smart café where they sold her favourite spicy buns, but this wasn’t to be a simple tea; he was taking her out to “dine”. He showed her the menu for the evening meals and rather nervously she copied his choice and ordered a dish of lasagne, wondering what it would be as it was something she’d never heard of.
The dish of vegetables and a small amount of minced meat in pasta was tasty and, to her relief, something easy to eat. She had dreaded bones, or gristle, knowing she’d embarrass herself. She was used to eating out, but after the brief flirtation with his son, sitting with this man who was her boss, and just about old enough to be her father, made her nervous and she wondered how she would get through the evening. Swansea had been different, relaxed and comfortable. She wondered what had changed.
The variety show was the usual mixture of song and dance acts, conjurers and illusionists. Although she initially felt some unease sitting next to Mr James, and trying to ignore the double entendre from some of the sauciest comedians, the evening was enjoyable. They were soon sharing glances, both glad to share the laughter or the admiration for a performer’s skill. The mutual pleasure added to the entertainment in a way it hadn’t with anyone else. The stage worked its magic and by the first interval she was relaxed and talking to Mr James as easily as to any of her friends.
He drove her home talking about the various acts, laughing at the remembered jokes, and as they reached Rock Terrace he went quiet, then embarrassed her by telling her in his pompous manner that he couldn’t remember enjoying an evening more. If he had been one of her usual boyfriends she’d have been able to think of a cheeky retort and lighten the sudden formality into laughter, but she couldn’t think of anything to say except a muttered and ungrammatical ‘me too’.
He unnerved her further by jumping out and opening the car door for her. She pushed open the gate and ran up the path without looking back.
‘Did you enjoy your evening, dear?’ her mother asked.
‘It was all right,’ she replied casually, but she knew it had been more than just all right; she had enjoyed his gentlemanly attentions far more than she’d expected. Everything had changed. She had developed a warmth, an affection for him.
There was flattery in his concern for her comfort and pleasure, and she felt a flush of embarrassment for her earlier self and knew that in some inexplicable way the evening had changed her life. From now on she would be looking for something very different from her usual companions. Sadness enveloped her as she wondered whether she would be able to find it.
Ivor had remembered to collect his identity card and ration book when he left the home he had shared with Marie for so short a time. He presented the ration book when he had found a place to stay, dealing with the change of address at the local office. He’d found a room in a lodging house where the landlady provided a breakfast and what she called supper at nine thirty. Three other lodgers appeared at these mealtimes, two young men who worked on the council ash carts, who slipped in through the back entrance and went in turns straight to the bathroom, from where they would emerge shining clean and neatly dressed. Ivor was amused to notice that they took it in turns to be first, the other sitting patiently on a wooden stool outside the bathroom door.
The fourth guest was a rather quiet young woman who dealt with the office work in a local grocery shop. She was pale, with a mass of auburn hair that fell in natural waves and curls around her rather pinched face, emphasizing her plainness. Her eyes were small and her mouth was almost lipless, so tightly did she hold them in, tense and unforthcoming. It was only when she smiled that she showed friendliness and animation.
Apart from the brief social moments when they ate together, Ivor was on his own. He didn’t encourage conversation and he knew that his serious expression, his apparent lack of interest in the other guests made him appear unapproachable. He didn’t want to be sociable, he deserved to be friendless and alone.
He had started work as an insurance agent, walking around an area of the town where most of the payments were pennies on fifteen-year endowment policies. Boring work as the occupants were often not at home and he found the books and payments left for him in a way that reminded of him of what he had done to Marie and the children, robbing the books she had left out with payment. New business was hard to come by, but as he became known his politeness and smart appearance persuaded a few to add to their policies, and his income gradually improved.
The loneliness was heartbreaking and he bitterly regretted leaving. Surely they could have worked through it? What a fool he’d been, to lie for all those years, and even after that, when Marie had found out about his father living in that filth and had given him the chance to put everything right, he’d walked away to nurse his shame and guilt instead of facing it.
A bad start in life never leaves you, he thought sadly. Isolated by his parents’ inadequacies he’d accepted none of the squalor but had been unable to shake off the humiliation and lack of social skills their behaviour had caused. Only with Marie had he felt true to himself, but all the time he’d been with her, happiness beginning to be an accepted right, his past had been hovering like a threatening shadow waiting for the opportunity to engulf him.
He’d been a fool to expect to cheat the past, to try to live up to Marie’s standards and forget his disastrous beginnings. His father was weak, his mother was dirty and lazy – and worse – and he must be the same. If not now, then later. When life became harder, or when old age wore down his determination, he would succumb to those traits and go under.
A child of such parents, how could he escape the inevitable? His dearest hope was that he hadn’t passed on those tendencies to his darling Violet. By running away, not giving her the chance to see his deterioration into the blackness of such illness, he hoped he had lessened that chance. He knew nothing about such illnesses and could only do what he thought best. Staying away was the worst and the best thing he could do. He loved them so much. Marie was better off without him. But he missed them all. Marie, their children, his comfortable home that his fears of the past had managed to destroy.
One thing he had not brought with him was clothing coupons. He had managed to bring most of his clothing by taking a taxi to the railway station, but he was seriously short of socks. Somehow, in the careful plan to move, he had brought only one pair and they were in need of darning, as he had worn them every day, washing them out each evening and putting them back on – sometimes still damp – the following morning. Without clothing coupons he couldn’t buy more.
He asked his landlady how and where he applied for replacement coupons but she couldn’t help, and in desperation he spoke to the quiet young woman who shared his table at meal times, and whose name he had learned was Euphemia. ‘But everyone calls me Effie,’ she had explained.
During their supper, he broached the subject and Effie immediately offered him sufficient coupons to buy a few pairs of socks.
‘I couldn’t take yours,’ he protested, Effie was always smartly dressed – her clothes neatly cared for, her shoes immaculately polished. ‘There can’t be any to spare from someone who cares about their appearance as you obviously do.’
She fumbled in her handbag and offered him the book of coupons. ‘I don’t need them. My mother makes my clothes from second-hand garments and I have only to buy shoes and stockings and things.’ She pressed them into his hand. ‘We’ll make it a loan if you prefer, but I’m not short, honestly.’
‘The problem is, I don’t know when I’ll get more.’ Almost without thought he began explaining his circumstances, shame making him look away as they finished the watery custard and two small tinned plums.
‘I’ve left home, you see. I’ve left my wife and children. I can’t tell you why but I had no choice. I didn’t pack very well, not wanting to take anything more than I needed, and, well, I forgot a few things, socks and handkerchiefs, and even if I had remembered clothing coupons I wouldn’t have taken them. My wife will need them more than me.’
Effie was curious but she refrained from asking questions. She knew he was from Cwm Derw, a place she had once known, having seen him address a letter there. She thought that this man, who was so distressed, would perhaps tell her one day, and she didn’t want to put him off by trying to persuade him. She guessed he would need someone to talk to.
‘First thing tomorrow you must go to the town hall and explain that you’ve lost your coupons,’ she said. She smiled then, a wide smile that lit up her eyes, brightening her rather dull expression. ‘They might not believe you, mind. I think a lot of people try it on. You know, tell lies in the hope of getting extra coupons.’
He had to tell the girl in the office more than he wanted to, but left there with the promise of ten coupons to tide him over until the new issue. With the coupons borrowed from Effie, he bought socks and a couple of handkerchiefs. He wondered sadly how long they would last and where he would be when they needed replacing.
Effie sat next to him at supper and asked how he had got on.
‘Splendidly, thanks to you.’ He handed her the remaining coupons. ‘I’ll be issued with ten coupons tomorrow and I’ll be able to repay those I’ve used.’
‘Keep them, in case there’s something else you’ve forgotten,’ she said, pushing them back at him. ‘If I need some I’ll ask my mother.’
The ice broken, they talked easily during meal times over the following days, and sometimes, when he went to bed, Ivor felt an overwhelming guilt. He’d enjoyed the evening, sitting talking to Effie, and he shouldn’t be enjoying life, not for a single minute. For two nights he didn’t appear for supper, easing his conscience by eating in a café. His money was sufficient for his needs. He’d brought a small nest egg with him saved from the last horse race he’d gambled on, and which he’d intended to give to Marie for some extra furniture from the second-hand shop in town. Now, as he was earning a small wage and not risking any of it by gambling, he managed to send a few pounds occasionally to Marie.
To Jennie’s surprise Mr James offered a second invitation. ‘There’s a concert on at the church hall and I’ve been asked to make an introductory speech. Would you like to come with me?’
‘I wouldn’t be on stage or anything, would I?’ she asked doubtfully.
‘You’ll sit in the front row and clap enthusiastically when I’ve finished’ he said. ‘Just promise not to boo or jeer when I start telling them how wonderful everyone is.’
‘I can manage the front row. Yes, I’d love to go with you.’
‘Good. I call for you at seven.’
‘Oh, er. Ernie, what should I wear?’
‘Long, I think, as we’re guests of honour.’
‘Long dress? Guests of honour? God ’elp, you’re going up in the world, aren’t you?’ Lucy teased later. ‘I’ll do your hair up in a swirl on top with curls in the centre, and you can borrow my pearl necklace if you like. I’ll want a blow by blow report of what happens, mind. Every little detail. I’ve never met a “Guest of Honour” before!’
Laughing at the unexpected excitement, they went to Jennie’s house and searched through her wardrobe to decide on the most suitable outfit.
Marie heard of the invitation from her parents. ‘She’s so excited.’ Belle told her. ‘Your father and I have begged and borrowed coupons so she can buy a new dress but she’s convinced that her pink dress made over from your bridesmaid dress will do. I ask you! Pink! It isn’t elegant enough for a guest of honour. Try and talk to her, Marie, I know she’ll be more confident wearing something new and special.’
‘I’ll spare her a few coupons too,’ Marie replied. ‘Ivor sent us some a couple of days ago.’
‘So you know where he is? And why he doesn’t come home?’
‘No idea, he won’t say.’
‘That’s disgraceful. You really don’t know where he is?’
‘I think he’s in Swansea. We once had a wonderful holiday there, exploring Gower, but it’s a big town and if I went there, not knowing his address or where he’s working, I’d never find him. He’ll be found when he wants to be found and not before.’
‘And his father, is he intending to stay with you?’
‘He’s got nowhere else to go. I said he can stay until Ivor comes back and they can talk. The thing is, I don’t think Ivor will come back while Rhodri’s there.’
‘Does he know he’s with you? When Ivor left his father was ill and in hospital. He might think he’s still there.’
‘I don’t know what Ivor thinks and I’m beginning not to care.’
‘You aren’t thinking of divorce, I hope!’ She hesitated, then added, ‘Geoff is a good friend to you I hear.’
‘No, Mam, I’m not anxious to end my marriage. I want to restart it, but how I do that is a mystery to me when I can’t find Ivor, let alone talk him into coming back to us.’
‘You’d have him back?’
‘Of course, Mam. I just want to talk to him, find out why he left us. I know I’ll be able to persuade him to come back.’
Marie went home with her thoughts jangled. It was so frustrating to be unable to find Ivor. Waiting until he felt able to come home was hard. It was easier for him: he had chosen this separation and he knew where to find her if he wanted to.
‘Any post?’ she called to her father-in-law as she closed the door behind her.
‘Only the rates bill,’ he called back. ‘I opened it and threw the envelope on the fire. No point in littering the place with unnecessary rubbish is there?’
She was not completely at ease with this man who was her father-in-law, grandfather to Violet and step-grandfather to the boys. He was often vague and lost in his thoughts and sometimes did unlikely things. She had made Violet promise never to go out with him ‘Except when I’m with you.’ She had spoken lightly and had added. ‘I like to be with you every moment I can. And share everything you do. I love you very much, you see. Roger and Royston too.’ She didn’t want to frighten the child with what were only unsubstantiated fears that Rhodri would return to being the sick man they had so recently known.
She threw off her coat and went into the kitchen to start preparing their evening meal. The boys would be in soon and Violet was already settled with her drawing book in the corner of the living room, close to the bright log fire. She went to the kitchen to find that saucepans were simmering ready for the vegetables and a few sausages spluttered in the frying pan under a low heat.
‘Rhodri? This is a nice surprise.’ She glanced at his hands and hoped fervently that he had washed them before touching the food. Cleanliness was still low on his list of priorities. The vegetables were chopped and the table in the small room off the kitchen was set for five. She stared at the table. Underneath each plate was a pile of not very clean newspaper.
‘I know you wish it was set for six, but not today,’ he said, misunderstanding her stare. ‘Perhaps tomorrow.’
‘Perhaps,’ she said doubtfully. She wished she didn’t have to work. Her uneasiness was growing and having the children home before she finished work was something she couldn’t change. Or could she? She began to work out the possibility of managing on fewer hours. Perhaps, if Mr Harries would allow her to finish at four instead of five thirty, the time Violet had to spent alone with Rhodri would be too short for anything to happen. What could happen? He saw the doctor regularly and if there had been any possibility of danger to her or the children she would have been told.
By being careful and adding the money sent by Ivor, Marie had almost paid off the arrears owed on the house in Hill Crescent. When the debt was finally cleared she intended to start looking for Ivor. If he were to see them settled into this comfortable house at the edge of the wood, and no longer in debt, she thought she might persuade him to return to his family. First she had to find him. As usual when she faced a problem, she went to see Geoff.
He was attending to a small queue of customers on that Saturday afternoon and she began to anticipate his needs, collecting tins of paint or other small items from the shelves or stores as soon as the customer requested them. Having so frequently bought the materials, she knew where everything was kept. When there was a lull in the stream of customers planning a weekend of work, she interrupted his thanks by saying, ‘Geoff, once more I need your help.’
‘It’s yours, you know that,’ he said, encouraging her to talk by sitting on the counter beside her and smiling his willingness to listen. The counter was littered with unwanted items that needed to be replaced on the shelves but he held her hand as she began to move them. ‘Leave that, I can deal with tidying up later.’
She slowly pulled her hand away, and said briefly, ‘I want to find Ivor. Why would he want to hide from me?’ she asked sorrowfully. ‘I’ve let him down. If he’d been able to talk to me he’d still be here.’
‘He’s hiding from his own mistakes, not from you, Marie. He was stupid, pretending to be someone different from who he really is, and when he was found out he couldn’t cope. That’s the truth of it.’
‘I want to find him,’ she repeated.
‘And I want to help. Shall we go to Swansea and just drive around, ask a few people, show his photograph and see where that takes us? It’s unlikely we’ll find him, but it’s better than doing nothing.’
‘Thanks, Geoff.’
Leaving the boys and Rhodri, they planned to take Violet the following day. At ten, as she was about to set off, a small boy came with a message for her. She took the note and read it, alarm showing on her face.
‘It’s Dad,’ she said. ‘He’s fallen and Jennie’s gone out for the day. I’ll have to go.’
Leaving Violet in the care of the twins, Geoff drove her and they found Howard sitting at the bottom of the stairs nursing his arm.
‘I don’t believe this!’ Marie gasped. ‘First Mam and now you.’
They took him to hospital and were reassured that the arm wasn’t broken, just badly bruised. By then it was after one o’clock. ‘Too late to go now,’ Marie said.
‘Next week we’ll try again,’ he said to comfort her.
They went back to Badgers Brook where the boys were clearing a corner of the garden of some overgrown and straggly bushes. ‘Where’s Violet?’ Marie called, and they shrugged their shoulders and carried on with their task. ‘What d’you mean? Where is she?’
‘She went for a walk in the wood with Grandad Rhodri.’
Roger said. ‘It isn’t fair, I wanted to go but Royston said we had to finish this.’
A cold panic overwhelmed her and she leaned against the side of the van. ‘How long have they been gone?’
‘I don’t know. I know we’re starving and he promised to make us some sandwiches,’ Royston said, clutching his stomach theatrically.
Sensing Marie’s alarm without her saying a word, Geoff slammed the van door and took charge. ‘I’ll go through the trees towards the stream and you go across to the village,’ he said, and the boys, catching the urgency of his words, dropped their tools and asked where they should look.
It was almost five o’clock before they found her. She came through the trees singing and carrying a clump of wild daisies, which she insisted on planting in the garden the boys had recently dug.
They had walked further than they intended, looking for birds’ nests, Rhodri had explained apologetically. ‘Then we sat near the badger sett. I’ve half promised that we’ll go out one night and watch for them, all of us. So long as we sit to windward and we’re very quiet, they’ll go about their business undisturbed.’
When Geoff left, after a simple meal of soup and crusty bread, Marie followed him to the van.
‘I know she was unharmed, but I don’t like leaving her with him. He’s so erratic and unreliable, and I can’t forget how confused and ill he was not so long ago.’
‘She can come to the shop after school if you like. She’ll be safe enough with me and I can bring her home when the shop closes and arrive at the same time as you. How will that be?’
To avoid hurting Rhodri’s feelings and perhaps bringing back thoughts of his recent illness, they told Violet that she was being offered a job and would be paid every week on Friday night. She was delighted and asked Marie to make her a special apron so she looked smart.
‘Clothes your first thought, just like your father,’ Marie said sadly.
It was Jennie who first saw Ivor. She and Ernie James had gone to Swansea for a day out one Saturday, leaving Lucy to deal with the Saturday morning clients. Ernie had suggested a walk on the sandy bay that curved south-westward the six miles to Mumbles. The centre of Swansea was a short walk from the sea but the shops were too tempting for Jennie and at three o’clock they were still wandering around the market, buying the odd item and admiring many others.
It was as she was looking at some inexpensive jewellery that Ernie presented his bombshell. ‘Don’t look at cheap rubbish. You deserve better than that.’
She laughed. ‘Me deserve better? Better has to be paid for, Ernie, and besides, I like cheap jewellery. Wear it, enjoy it, then throw it away. No worries about it being stolen if it’s worthless.’ She turned and smiled at him and saw that there was no echoing smile on his face. ‘What is it? Have I said something utterly stupid? I’m sorry but I’ve never had the money to even consider the best and the only way to deal with that is to pretend you don’t care.’
‘I want to buy you the best. I want you to have everything you want.’
Jennie didn’t know how to react. Was he offering to buy her a gift? And if so, what should she accept, something valuable or only moderately so? Certainly nothing from this stall! If he took her to a decent jewellers would it be better to play down his words and insist on the least expensive thing she could see?
‘I want to buy you a ring.’
Her heart leaped painfully. Surely he didn’t mean…? ‘I can see a pretty little imitation pearl over there,’ she said, afraid to look at him. ‘That’s nice.’
‘A diamond ring is more suitable for an engagement ring.’ His voice had a trembling quality, revealing his nervousness. ‘Don’t you agree?’
She had to force herself to turn around and face him. How should she react? It might be a joke, or he might be buying it for someone else, she didn’t know his friends. Afraid she had misunderstood him, she asked. ‘Ernie, what are you saying?’
‘Marry me. I know that Swansea market isn’t the most romantic place for a proposal, but it just came out. I had to ask when I felt brave enough. If I’d waited for the right moment I’d have lost my nerve.’
‘But we haven’t known each other very long, not really known each other.’
‘I knew how I felt about you when we went out together for the first time. I hadn’t enjoyed myself like that for a very long time. You create happiness around you, Jennie. And if you’re thinking of Thelma, well, she was very fond of you and I’m sure she’d be happy for me. Well?’ he coaxed as she didn’t say anything.
In stories the heroine always asked for time to think about it and Jennie had always thought that stupid, and hurtful, to the handsome hero, but now it seemed the right thing to do.
‘Can I give you an answer tomorrow?’ she asked. ‘There’s a lot to think about and if I slept on it…’
‘Of course.’ His jaw tightened, the primness was back in his voice, disappointment in his eyes, but Jennie saw only a wonderful future, with no shortage of money, and a loving, considerate husband. There would be no need to worry about his wanting children – he was too old to cope with babies – and she would have someone to do the boring things she’d hate. She clasped his hands in hers, looked up at him and said, ‘My only consideration is whether I can make you happy, dear Ernie, that’s what I want more than anything.’
‘My concern is the same, for you, my dear little Jennie.’
‘Then it’s yes, Ernie, I’ll be proud to become your wife.’
They went to one of the finest jewellers in the town and chose a ring. After they made sure it was a perfect fit, it was placed in a box lined with rich blue velvet.
‘Before you wear it, I must talk to your parents, assure them of my determination to make you happy,’ he said, placing the precious symbol of love in his pocket.
‘Let me try it on just once more,’ Jennie pleaded, and, smiling happily, he took it out for her to admire. ‘It’s perfect. The day’s perfect and so are you,’ she breathed.
It was after they had been to the Mackwonh Hotel for a celebratory tea that Jennie saw Ivor. He was in a bookshop and when she called his name he took a step as if to run away. ‘Ivor! When are you coming home?’ she demanded in her forthright way. Ernie was behind her and he stood back politely to allow her to greet the man, unaware of who he was.
‘I – hello, Jennie. How is Marie?’ He was so shocked he didn’t know what he was saying and he glanced around as though searching for an escape route. Sounding like a distant stranger he added, ‘I hope she’s well?’
‘Oh, she’s fine. Very happy. Everyone’s happy.’ In her present euphoric state of mind, happiness was all she could think of. Giving Ivor the impression he wasn’t needed or even missed didn’t occur to her. As she turned to beckon Ernie forward to introduce him, she saw a young woman approach carrying a book. She came up to a pale and shocked Ivor and handed it to him. ‘Here you are, Ivor, a little gift. It’s the book on aeroplanes you wanted.’
Jennie backed away as the woman pushed the book into Ivor’s hands. Ivor called after her, ‘This is a lady who stayed in the same hotel as me,’ he called, unable to resist exaggerating, even at such a time.
Jennie didn’t wait for explanations, she pulled on Ernie’s arm and they hurried from the shop.
Finding a place to sit in the small park in the middle of the town she explained about the disappearance of Ivor. ‘My sister mustn’t know he’s with someone else,’ she said, sobbing a little. ‘It would break her heart. Oh, I wish we hadn’t seen him, it’s almost spoiled our perfect day,’ She wiped tears from her beautiful eyes, took a deep breath and added, ‘but I won’t let it. Nothing can make me unhappy today, not even my sister’s deceitful husband.’
Ernie told her how much he admired her for being so brave, and she hugged him.
‘Ernie dear, you’re so understanding.’
They drove home and she relaxed into dreams about the wonderful future that was spread out before her. She allowed him to open the car door for her, and after kissing him with a passion that startled them both, Jennie waved him out of sight then ran in to tell her parents the unbelievably good news, feeling so excited she began shouting the news before she opened the door.
The following day she was surprised to find Bill waiting when she and Lucy opened up the hairdresser’s shop.
‘Don’t think you’ll get away with this,’ he said almost conversationally as Lucy pushed past him and went inside. ‘My father might be a fool for a pretty pair of lips and saucy blue eyes, but I’m not. I know the sort of woman you are, and what you hope to get from my father. If you don’t tell him you’ve changed your mind and won’t marry him, you’ll have me to answer to.’ He stood and leaned towards her the expression on his face a clear warning that he meant what he said. ‘Tell him today.’
Jennie had nowhere to go. She couldn’t tell her parents, or even talk to Lucy about Bill’s threats. She would feel belittled by the situation. Marie, who would normally be her confidante, was best avoided, in case she let slip that she had seen Ivor the previous day. And she could hardly tell Ernie that his son had threatened her.
What could she do except carry on as though Bill hadn’t spoken and hope his threats were nothing more than hot air? And jealousy, of course! That idea cheered her. Yes, she had succeeded more than she had intended in her attempts to make him regret his treatment of her. Bill wanted her himself and regretted the cavalier way he had dismissed her. This was the version she told Lucy, and later, when she no longer feared letting the cat out of the bag regarding Ivor, it was the version she repeated to Marie.