It was strange to wake the following morning with no need to get up the moment the alarm shrilled in her ear. Seranne’s first reaction was to reach for her dressing gown and get up but then realization came and she sank back onto the pillow. Instead of thinking ahead to the first routine tasks of the day in the café, she was faced with the unpleasant thought of looking for another job.
She walked up the lane and caught a bus to the main road and tried not to look across at the café, where a weak light struggled through steamed windows. It was not yet half past nine and a few prospective customers stood outside, leaning forward occasionally to peer through in the hope of the door being opened. She saw movement inside and curiously she stopped to look. A huge notice was displayed: STAFF WANTED. Regret filled her and she hurried on.
Perhaps she should go home? Her mother’s tea rooms was certainly in need of her expertise. No, that wasn’t the answer, she could no longer go home. It wasn’t false pride that stopped her, or the embarrassment of knowing she had failed, but the realization that she had moved on. She no longer belonged.
As though she had picked up on her thoughts, when she telephoned her mother a few minutes later, Jessie said, ‘I love seeing you, you know that, but next time will you let us know when you’re coming? Paul and I were so disappointed to be out last time. Let us know then we’ll be sure to be in.’
‘That sounds very formal, Mum. Whose idea is that, yours or Paul’s?’
‘Well it was Paul who suggested I mention it. We go out quite often you see. We’d be so sorry if we missed you.’
‘It’s still my home, Mum.’
‘And always will be, but now, with Paul in my life, the days are so full. It’s really wonderful. I’m so happy, darling, I really am. So just tell us and we’ll make sure you get a real welcome.’
Seranne put down the phone with the uneasy feeling that all was not well. Nothing specific, just a slight strain in her mother’s voice she hadn’t been aware of before. She was trying so hard to convince me, she mused, but the effect was the opposite. She was so distracted with concern for her mother when she went to the employment exchange that she found nothing that appealed among the vacancies.
At two o’clock she went for a walk. She was too miserable to enjoy it as she usually did, her solitary state no longer enough. She felt cut off from her mother and very lonely. Signs of approaching spring went unnoticed. Birds pairing up after spending the winter in flocks, fresh green leaves like tiny spears appearing on the sunny banks. Bright sunshine that fell dappled by the still bare trees onto the woodland floor. Nothing succeeded in lightening her mood.
The following day, when she spoke to Stella in the post office, Stella offered Scamp, her little terrier, as a companion for her walks and she accepted with a few misgivings. She had never owned a dog and wasn’t sure how he would behave.
On the first day he seemed to assert himself as leader and instead of walking through the lane toward the wood, he pulled her in the opposite direction. From the doorway of the shop Stella called. ‘He’s off to our country cottage. Don’t worry, he knows the way.’ Being towed along by the excited dog, Seranne had no choice but to follow. Country cottage? What on earth was Stella talking about?
Scamp led her to the allotments, where plots of land were neatly set out and dug ready for planting, each with its small shed. One shed door was open and it was to there she was taken.
‘Hello,’ Colin said. ‘Scamp’s brought you to see me, has he? Want a cup of tea?’ He patted the little dog then turned to fiddle with a paraffin stove and a kettle. ‘Stella always makes sure there’s the makings of tea. Her country cottage she calls it.’
The shed wasn’t like any other she had known. Inside there was a square of carpet, devoid of mud and grass as though regularly swept. The window was dressed with pretty curtains. Shelves held vases of artificial flowers.
‘This is amazing,’ she said as she watched Colin open a tin from which he took cups and saucers and plates. A second container revealed biscuits and another a few small cakes. Chairs were unfolded and she sat and admired the gardens and sipped the tea Colin had made, enjoying the unexpected interlude.
She tried to coax Scamp to take a long route back to the post office but as before, he told her where he wanted to go and that was back home, where he jumped into his favourite armchair and slept.
During the next few days she called at the employment exchange several times and in between, she and Scamp explored the woods and surrounding fields. Several times she thought she had lost him as he disappeared chasing a rabbit or a bird, but he returned to her without trouble.
They were at the edge of the wood on their way home one day when she saw Luke. He was walking and seemed in no hurry. She didn’t want to talk to him. Knowing he had a wife made it impossible to feel at ease with him. She would have been glancing around afraid of the wife appearing and attacking her in a jealous rage. She darted back through the trees and found her way blocked by an area of muddy water with a plank across it. As though she could already hear the angry shouts of Luke’s wife she hopped on to the wood which immediately sank, her foot disappearing in glutinous mud. She shouted her dismay and heard footsteps approaching. Not the wife but Luke himself. Angry with herself, and with him for putting her in the situation, she presented a look of such fury that Luke laughed out loud.
‘Oh, go away. Can’t you see this isn’t funny?’ Which only made him laugh even louder. He offered a hand to help her out of the gooey mess but she refused and, struggling to free herself, put her second foot in the water. ‘See what you’ve done now!’
‘What I’ve done?’
‘Yes, you, creeping up on me like that!’ She knew she was talking rubbish but couldn’t help herself.
‘Come on, take my hand and I’ll help you out.’
Reluctantly she did as he said and he helped her back to the road followed by an equally muddy dog.
‘The car is around the corner,’ he said as they reached the lane. ‘But I think you’ll both have to ride in the boot, don’t you?’
‘I can walk, thank you,’ she said rebelliously.
They reached the car and Luke bent down to take off her shoes and socks before helping her into the car.
‘My feet are cold,’ she protested ungraciously.
Luke removed his scarf and wrapped it around her feet. Scamp jumped onto the driving seat from where he was hastily removed. Not before he had spread foul-smelling mud all over it. This was when Seranne began to laugh. Aware that her laughter was unkind when Luke was helping, she tried to stop but couldn’t. Scamp barked, enjoying what he considered a game while Luke covered the seat with an old coat from the boot.
He drove her back to Badgers Brook, followed her in after tying a protesting Scamp to a tree at the doorway and put a match to the fire. ‘Go up and clean yourself,’ he said. ‘I’ll make us a drink.’ Too cold and uncomfortable to argue, Seranne did as she was told, leaving Luke opening and closing cupboards as he searched for the things he needed.
‘Why aren’t you at work?’ he asked when they sat drinking the cocoa he had made and Scamp was ensconced on his ruined coat in the kitchen. ‘You haven’t left the café, have you?’
‘Yes. I couldn’t work with Babs.’
‘I see. You were upset because you didn’t get the manager’s job and went off in a sulk?’
‘No, I didn’t! Babs cheated to get the job and I can’t consider her a friend any longer.’
He persuaded her to explain, then said, ‘She says she didn’t touch the oven?’
‘She must have done. There was no one else. I didn’t make a mistake.’
‘Heaven forbid!’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Little Miss Perfect, so experienced, no one else can come near your expertise, can they?’
‘I’ve been running a café alongside my mother all my life.’
‘A mischievous child might have gone in. Or you could have caught the control with your coat. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions – about anything,’ he added looking at her strangely.
She wondered what he meant. He couldn’t be referring to his wife. A man was either married or not and according to Kitty, he was.
‘I’d better get Scamp back to Stella or she’ll think we’re lost.’ He offered to drive her but she refused. ‘He’d be happy to walk,’ she said. Then seeing how dark it was, and how low the clouds were, she wished she had accepted. She added an extra jumper and some thick socks to what she was wearing, and two scarves, one around her neck the other, wide and thick, she wrapped around her head making her look like a colourful Egyptian mummy.
When she went out after stacking the cups and plates, the car was waiting. ‘I thought you might have changed your mind,’ Luke said amiably. She uncurled one of the scarves and got in. ‘You are inclined to speak before you think,’ he added, then he pressed the accelerator before she could jump back out, laughing at her angry expression.
She stayed and helped Stella to bath the dog then caught the bus to the top of the lane. She was aware how foolish she must appear to Luke. Always angry about something. She had never been as even tempered as she would have liked but he brought out the worst in her. She vaguely wondered why. It wasn’t an attraction. As a married man he was strictly out of bounds. Any brief dreams about a romance had been swiftly put aside. So why was he so kind to her? Was he really the same to everyone he met? From the little she had learnt about him, he ran several businesses and was on the board of several others, so he was obviously not desperate for friendship. She wished she dare ask Kitty for more details about the man but didn’t want to be misunderstood. He was married and that was definitely that!
She had several visitors that evening. First came Connie and Geoff, who called each week for their rent and stayed for tea and biscuits. Next came Kitty and Bob, who asked if they could borrow a couple of chairs as they had visitors the following day. The third knock puzzled her. It was quite late and she wasn’t expecting anyone.
It was Tony and she glanced behind to see whether he had brought his sister. For a moment her heart leapt at the possibility she was going to be asked to return to the café, but he was alone.
Offered tea and a seat, he said, ‘Babs is struggling you know, and it’s all my fault.’
‘How can you say that? She ruined the scones in a petty attempt to make me look inefficient and—’
‘I turned the heat up.’
‘You? But why, Tony? Come on, aren’t you covering up for your sister?’
‘I wanted to spoil your chances because my parents and I want to buy a larger premises, bring in modern machinery and expand the business. Babs refuses to consider it. I thought that if I got her out of the way, Dad and I could get on with it. I wrote a wonderful letter recommending her for the job, my father gave her the finest reference. Then, seeing the scones that morning I couldn’t resist the temptation to mess things up for you. I altered the regulo – I wanted her to get the job. But now, well, I don’t think she’ll last long. She doesn’t know enough about running the business side of things. Making cakes in a modern bakery is different from selling them and making a profit.’
She stared at him. ‘You haven’t said sorry yet, Tony.’
‘I am. In fact I want to make a proper apology. Will you come out with me tomorrow night? Pictures maybe and supper somewhere?’
‘There’s no need for that, but you must put things right with Babs.’
‘I’d like to anyway. We’ve known each other a long time but we’ve spent very little time together. It would be good to talk to each other without my sister there. What d’you say?’
‘All right, Tony. Only if I can choose the film, mind.’
After he’d gone she felt a glow of contentment. She hadn’t lost her temper or told him what she thought of him for ruining her chances with Mr Griffiths. Luke would be proud of me, she thought happily.
As for their trip to the pictures, they hadn’t made a definite date and she could let it drag out until he lost interest. Tony and she had little in common, or they would have become friends long ago. She lit her candle and went up to bed.
She saw Luke the following morning as she stepped off the bus near the post office and told him about Tony’s visit.
‘What are you going to do?’ he asked, gesturing towards the café.
She shrugged. ‘What can I do?’
‘You could apply to the staff wanted notice.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! I couldn’t do that!’
‘Too proud, are we?’
‘Of course not. But….’ How could she explain that knowing she had been wrong about Babs just made things worse? Apologizing then working with her, Luke was probably right, her pride wouldn’t allow it. What was she doing worrying about what Luke thought of her? He was hovering on the periphery of her life, complaining about her temper, accusing her of jumping to conclusions without thinking things through, making her feel bad about things and causing her to mistrust her own feelings. He had no right to criticize. Calming down she wondered if perhaps Tony would help put things right. After all it was his fault the argument happened.
‘Why don’t we meet and talk about it, that often helps and you can hardly discuss how to apologize to someone with the person involved.’ He saw her hesitate and added, ‘Saturday evening? We could find a quiet place to eat, and talk for a little while then I’ll drive you home.’
That seemed a reasonable suggestion and she had to admit it appealed. She did need someone to talk to and, now she and her mother were no longer such close friends, apart from Kitty and Bob she had no one in her life to fill that category. Keep it casual and there was no harm, she convinced herself.
Her mind began to play with ideas about him as she went to the employment exchange for another attempt to find work. Perhaps Kitty hadn’t realized that his marriage had ended in divorce? A divorced man? Was that an attractive idea? It was hardly a pleasing prospect. Trying to convince herself she didn’t care, she decided that whatever had happened, he had been a failure.
Before Saturday came round she saw Luke again. This time he was talking to a young woman who was hand in hand with a little girl. The shock hit her anew. He was married, and for a moment she felt the usual surge of anger at his duplicity. Why was he hiding the fact? Then his words came back to her. Don’t jump to conclusions. Was it a friend? Or someone asking directions? Seeing him with a woman didn’t automatically make the woman his wife.
They met as planned and went to a small country public house, where they ate a simple meal of sandwiches. Luke said very little, he just asked an occasional question to encourage her to think things through.
She asked him if he had ever had to solve a similar situation. ‘Have you had a friendship that was in trouble and needed sorting?’ It was the closest she dared to get to asking if he had a broken marriage behind him. Surely if he cared, even a little, he would tell her?
He smiled and shook his head. ‘Friends are too important to take chances. We need them all. I always try to make allowances, see the other side, although that’s difficult at times.’
Talking to him helped make up her mind. She would see Babs and apologize and hopefully return to work beside her. She thanked him as she stepped out of the car. He didn’t come in and she wasn’t sure whether she was disappointed or relieved.
Betty Connors was on the phone to the brewery giving her weekly order when she saw the ambulance drive around the corner behind the post office. She immediately guessed it was for her sister-in-law. ‘Can you hold the fort a while?’ she called to Alun. ‘There’s an ambulance and it’s going towards Ed and Elsie’s place.’
Throwing off her apron and grabbing her coat, she hurried to her brother’s guest house where she saw the ambulance parked with its doors open, and a stretcher being lifted inside. Ed was coming out from the house carrying a coat and a small suitcase. ‘Betty. Thank goodness you’ve come. I couldn’t get through on the phone. Elsie’s real bad. Can you see to the arrivals this afternoon?’
‘Of course,’ Betty assured him. She watched as the ambulance drove slowly away then went in to see what needed doing. After ten minutes she rang the Ship.
‘Sorry, Alun, but I’ll be about an hour here. I’ll be back for lunchtime opening, then I’ll have to come back to see to the arrivals. Only four, thank goodness. Birdwatchers apparently. They won’t be much trouble.’
‘Don’t worry, love, I’ll be all right until you get back.’
The ‘Don’t worry, love’ pleased her and she felt like a young woman with her first crush.
Ed rang at lunchtime and the news wasn’t good. Elsie was having difficulty breathing and would be in hospital for some time.
‘I’ll do what I can,’ Alun promised Betty. ‘Bob will help and Kitty has promised to wash glasses. This is an amazing place, I didn’t have to ask!’
‘I know. They all help whoever needs it, even the grumpy and ungrateful,’ she said with a laugh. ‘The customers are patient, too. A couple of them will come round the other side of the bar to help if it’s busy.’
‘We can take turns going over to make the breakfast, the cleaner will cope with the routine and finding someone to help with the bed-changes shouldn’t be hard,’ Alun said.
‘I wonder if young Seranne would help us for a while?’ Betty suggested. ‘She isn’t working so far as I know.’
‘I’ll ask.’
Betty dealt with the urgent post and settled the accounts of the few guests without difficulty. Alun went over each morning and together they cooked breakfast, leaving the dishes for the cleaner, before dashing back to the Ship to start on their own morning’s work. It was hectic at times but sharing the problems with Alun made it a joy rather than hard work. They dealt with everything together without having to make arrangements, slotting into the necessary chores with ease.
Ed stayed at the hospital, sitting in the uncomfortable waiting-room when he was not allowed in the ward – to the disapproval of the staff. Between visits he dashed home for bathing and changing his clothes and gave only a cursory glance at how Betty and Alun were coping. He did nothing to help, just left everything to Betty.
‘A thank you for what you’re doing for him would be nice,’ Alun said.
Betty shrugged. ‘Ed has always taken my help for granted.’
‘He treats you more like a devoted mother than a sister with a life of her own.’
‘I looked after him after our parents died. Too well, I suppose. I took on the role of mother instead of making him cope on his own. I thought perhaps he’d be different once he married but he’s still rather selfish – except with Elsie. He’s devoted to her. The way he is with me is my fault. The truth is, I was glad of him being here. I didn’t want to be on my own. A different kind of selfishness maybe?’
Seranne was near the café, looking through the window and watching the shadowy figure of Babs dashing in and out of the kitchen, obviously without help. Swallowing her pride and apprehension she went in.
‘Want any help?’ she asked.
‘You applying for the job?’ Babs said stiffly. ‘You have to come for an interview like all the rest, mind.’
‘Tomorrow all right? Then I can spend today showing you how good I am.’
‘There’s dishes want washing,’ Babs said gesturing towards the kitchen with a tilt of her head.
They worked together for the rest of the day and gradually relaxed into their old friendship. Whispering comments about some of the customers led to laughter and by the end of the day things were almost back to normal between them. As they cleared the last of the pots and pans Seranne asked, ‘Do I have the job?’
‘If you say you’re sorry I might consider it.’
Seranne laughed. ‘That’s what I said to your stupid brother!’
‘You’re right. He is stupid.’
‘I was too. I am sorry, Babs.’
‘I won’t be staying you know. It’s all too much for me. Accounts are a mystery for a start.’
‘I’ll help with those. We can do everything together.’ The mention of accounts took her mind back to her mother and Paul. ‘It’s my mother’s birthday on Monday, and as we close at three, will you come with me to see her? I won’t tell her we’re coming, it’ll be a nice surprise.’ Or a shock, she thought anxiously.
‘I’ll borrow the van,’ Babs said.
‘Did you know your Tony has invited me to the pictures?’
‘Wonderful, I always said he’ll make a good husband.’
‘He will, but not for me, so if he does make a date, why don’t you come with us?’
‘Play gooseberry? No fear!’
‘It will stop him getting the wrong idea,’ Seranne pleaded.
‘I’ll see. It depends what film you want to see.’
On the way to see her mother, Seranne told Babs that she was worried about how rundown the place had become and when they parked outside, she glanced at the unwashed windows with increasing concern. Only two tables were occupied, each with two women who had obviously been shopping as their bags were beside them against the window.
Instead of going in through the side entrance they went straight into the tea rooms, Babs first. Paul and Pat Sewell were standing in a corner talking, heads close, Paul’s arm around Pat’s waist. Pretending not to see them, Seranne looked towards the kitchen.
‘Mum? Paul? Anyone about?’ The couple darted apart as though touched with an electric shock.
‘Seranne, what a lovely surprise.’
‘Oh, hello Paul, I didn’t see you there,’ she lied.
‘Jessie’s up in the flat, why don’t you go straight up? I’ll follow as soon as I’ve given Mrs Sewell her instructions.’
‘Remember my friend, Babs?’ Seranne’s heart was racing and her voice trembled high in her throat with the shock of what she had seen. She didn’t speak to Pat Sewell, her voice wouldn’t allow that. She was afraid she’d be sick if she even looked at the woman. Something was going on and it was more than the fading fortunes of the tea rooms. Don’t jump to conclusions, a voice inside her warned and by the time they had reached the flat she had a bit more control.
‘Hi Mum, happy birthday,’ she called. Her voice was still at the top of her throat and threatening to fail. But once she had handed her mother the parcel and flowers she had brought, her mother did the talking, then Babs joined in and she left them and busied herself making tea in the small kitchen of the flat.
She listened to the exclamations of delight as Jessie unpacked her parcels and the one brought by Babs. Paul came up with a few cakes and some dainty sandwiches on a tray. ‘I’ve just had to speak to Pat again about not washing the floor thoroughly,’ he said to Jessie. ‘I promise I was tactful though. I whispered so the customers didn’t here me telling her off.’
Seranne cringed at the feeble explanation he had offered in case they had been seen.
‘I’ll have to do more,’ Jessie said. ‘It’s been lovely having more time to enjoy, and I know you want to ease my load, but I miss it, darling. I really enjoyed baking and sandwich-making, serving friends and seeing customers enjoying what I do.’
‘You’ve worked hard for so long, it’s time you took things easy and that’s what I’m here for, to give you time to enjoy your life. Pat copes well enough – as long as I remind her of how you like things done, now and then.’
‘Any post for me, Mum?’ Seranne asked and was handed a few letters from the box where her mother stored her mail. She glanced through. ‘Nothing of importance, but thanks for keeping it for me.’
Paul seemed reluctant to go back down to the café and Seranne became aware that he was following her as she walked around the flat and showed Babs her room. Opening the door to the back bedroom, she said, ‘This is the office where Mum and I used to deal with the accounts and orders. Are you still using the same wholesaler, Mum?’
As she walked towards the huge desk that had been her father’s, Paul quickly pulled her away and closed the door. ‘Don’t bother your mother with such things on her birthday, Seranne.’
‘Paul, what happened to the teapots and plates from the shelves in the tea rooms? Some of them were mine, given to me by my grandmother.’
‘Mrs Sewell took them down. She doesn’t have time for unnecessary ornaments.’
‘And the linen tablecloths?’
‘Old. Almost threadbare, we threw them out. Look, Seranne, none of this is your business any more.’
‘My mother will always be my business. Marrying you hasn’t changed that.’ She tried to ask her mother a few questions, but each time Paul answered for her, replying with the firm explanation that every change was to benefit Jessie.
Babs guessed what she was trying to do and she asked Paul to show her the tea rooms kitchen. ‘I run a small café myself you see and I’d be grateful for any tips you might have.’ Reluctantly he led her downstairs and into the kitchen.
‘Brr, it’s very cold in here, isn’t it?’ she remarked as they walked through the café which was now empty.
‘We’re having a bit of trouble with the electric fire,’ he explained. ‘Repairs are in hand, but the electrician is very busy.’
Ignoring his attempts to stop her she went to look at where the pretend log fire was plugged into the wall and saw that the flex near the plug was old and frayed. Paul stood at the doorway into the kitchen and he pointedly looked at his watch. ‘I’ve arranged an evening to celebrate Seranne’s mother’s birthday, Babs. I’m sorry but we’ll have to leave soon.’
After a few innocent comments about the layout of the room and its well-scrubbed table, and pretending not to notice the dirty floor and neglected cooker, Babs said, ‘I’m impressed with how well you organize your time, Paul. You work every day as well as help run this place, don’t you?’
‘Not any more. I gave it up to give Seranne’s mother a better life,’ he said. ‘This is a second chance for Jessie and I want her to enjoy every moment.’
‘She’s a lucky lady,’ Babs smiled.
‘And I’m a lucky man,’ he said earnestly.
In the flat while her mother cleared the dishes, Seranne darted into the office and quickly looked through some of the most recent letters. There were reminders for unpaid bills and the wholesaler was not the one they had used for years.
‘Why aren’t these bills paid, Mum?’ she asked when her mother came to find her.
‘Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, dear. Paul says it isn’t good business practice to pay a bill before the final demand, money in our account instead of theirs or something. I hated doing all that after your father died and I’m happy to leave it to him now, after all, he owned his factory so he knows about business. Seranne, I’m so lucky.’
‘So is he, Mum,’ Seranne said, unaware of the similarity of Jessie’s and Paul’s remarks.
On the drive home Seranne and Babs compared notes. ‘There’s a cracked window in the kitchen and in the bathroom,’ Seranne reported. ‘The curtains in the café need a wash and the cheap, carelessly laundered tablecloths are a disgrace.’
‘The faulty heater in the café seriously needs attention,’ Babs warned. ‘And the kitchen wouldn’t pass your inspection or mine. Crumbs and flour on the floor and piled up in the corner as though it hadn’t been properly cleaned for days. A haven for mice and creepy-crawlies.’
‘What can I do?’
‘Wait a while. I can’t imagine your mother spending much longer sitting about being “spoilt” by Paul, who’s a bit of a creepy-crawly himself, don’t you think?’
‘Perhaps I should come home.’
‘A better idea would be to get your mother involved. She doesn’t seem aware of the state of the place.’
‘He seems to have changed her completely. Love is said to be blind, but surely she can’t look around and not see what happened to her once beautiful tea rooms?’
‘I’ve never understood that saying, unless it means that a person needn’t be beautiful to be loved.’
‘If Paul doesn’t have a job, what are they living on? The café can’t be taking enough to pay Pat Sewell and give them enough to live on. He must be using my mother’s money. Money left to her by my father. Blind? She has to have gone crazy if she can’t see what he’s doing!’
Neither mentioned the closeness of Paul and Pat Sewell when they had made their unexpected entry. Seranne because she was desperately trying to persuade herself it was nothing important and Babs because she believed it was.
Seranne was thankful to return to Badgers Brook and allow its serenity to calm her mind and help her to put aside worries about which she could do nothing.
Tony and his father went to see an architect about building a new bake house. The money they had been putting aside, together with a small mortgage was enough for the large premises they envisaged and they were excited. As a family firm, the bakery was jointly owned by the four of them and with a majority of three out of four, they could at least start the process before trying once again to convince Babs that it was the right way forward.
Keeping her unaware of their plan was underhand and dishonest, but after many harsh battles in which Babs stoutly defended the principles laid down by her grandfather that small and reliable was better than risky adventures, she remained adamant that nothing should change. Tony and his parents eased their troubled consciences by assuring one another that, once there was something definite to show her, Babs would understand.
Her father and Tony were in the habit of going out in the evening for a drink before returning at eight, and she had been unaware of their lengthy discussions. Now, as she worked at the café and no longer drew a wage, they found it easy to talk and meet the accountant and the planning officers; the preparations were well in hand.
Betty and Alun kept Ed and Elsie’s guest house running, as well as managing the Ship. It meant rising early and working late and using every spare moment between opening times and deliveries to go and attend to guests. Laundry, bed-making, shopping and cooking were all dealt with by staff but on days off and when someone was sick, they coped between them. It went on and on and there was no sign of Elsie being well enough to return home. That meant Ed being at the hospital during visiting hours and between times he seemed incapable of doing anything to help.
Alun didn’t complain and Betty was grateful. ‘I know it sounds hard,’ she admitted, ‘but the business will be Ed’s when Elsie passes away and I have to keep it running efficiently for him.’
‘I understand that,’ Alun said.
‘But it’s for my brother and you shouldn’t be landed with all this extra work.’
‘You’re doing it for Ed,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’m doing it for you.’
‘Thank you.’
He shrugged away her thanks, then looked at her with concern. ‘You look worried and you haven’t see Elsie for a couple of days, so why don’t you go and see her this afternoon? Go straight after we close at two o’clock and I’ll see to the clearing up.’
Betty found Elsie in a bed with the sides pulled up and she looked so small and pale sleeping in what looked like a baby’s cot, that Betty felt great pity. She had not approved of her brother marrying Elsie Clements, because she had not revealed how ill she was until it was too late for Ed to back out. He told Betty he hadn’t wanted to cancel the wedding, but it was impossible for Betty to forget how Elsie had lied.
There were visitors at most of the beds, but the place was very quiet. The only sounds the subdued voices, the distant tapping of nurses feet as they went about their tasks and the rattling of paper as gifts of fruit and sweets were handed over. Heads nodded as she went in but there were no cheerful greetings from the few people she recognized, the ward was hushed by grief and despair.
Ed was dosing in an armchair nearby. He woke when Betty approached and whispered, ‘She seems better today, but she’s sleeping a lot, so if you can stay a while, I’ll go home and get changed and see if anything needs doing.’
‘Everything is all right but I’ll certainly stay with her and give you a rest.’
‘I don’t want a rest from my wife, as you put it!’ he hissed irritably. ‘I just want to go home and change then I’ll get back as fast as I can.’
‘Of course. I didn’t mean that to sound like it did.’
‘You don’t have to pretend. I know you’ve never been happy about my marriage. But I’ve been happy. Elsie has made every day a wonderful experience. You wouldn’t understand about loving someone, would you?’
His harsh voice and the unkind words hurt, but she said, ‘I’m sorry. For goodness sake, Ed, I’m doing all I can and Alun too. Just go and see how well we’ve looked after things and stop picking a fight!’ Elsie stirred but settled again. ‘Go on, and for goodness sake take your time. There’s no rush,’ she said, patting his arm to show her brief irritation was spent.
Alun had lent Ed his car and as he drove home, Ed was thinking about how he would manage if Elsie didn’t come back home. It was easier when she was there even though she did practically nothing. She sat in her chair or in bed and managed the place, giving instructions and reminders, and praise. She was in charge and nothing was forgotten.
Spending so much time going to and from the hospital and not having her there when he got home was distorting everything and making the hours race by at times and at others seem to drag so he stared at the clock, willing it to hurry, waiting to leave for the hospital instead of catching up with some of the work. Betty would cope. She had never understood about Elsie, but she’d cope.
Elsie had been ill for all of their time together but he loved being with her. When her time came, he silently promised that the guest house would continue in exactly the same way as she had always run it. The business could afford an assistant and the cleaner could do extra hours. The rest he could manage. Betty was always there and she’d support him until he had learnt to cope without Elsie. Betty had time to spare and she loved being needed.
At the hospital Betty sat watching Elsie sleep. A nurse came and asked if everything was all right.
‘How is she?’ Betty asked. ‘Will she be coming home again soon?’
‘You can never tell of course, but she is very ill.’
After the nurse had checked the patient was comfortable and left them alone again, Betty moved and stretched. Elsie reached out through the rail of the bed and Betty held her hand. The grip tightened and then relaxed. It was several minutes before she realized that Elsie had died.
The nurses came and drew the curtains around the bed and after a few minutes they took her away. Betty walked up and down wishing Ed would come. She telephoned the guest house and the Ship but there was no reply. Then, when she tried the guest house again, desperate to see Ed and tell him the sad news, it was Alun who answered. ‘I’ll go and find him,’ he promised. ‘Wait there and we’ll come and join you.’
Ed had taken Betty at her word and taken his time. Elsie would be pleased to see someone different when she woke. It would be a nice change for her to talk to Betty. He went through the house making sure everything was neat and orderly and checked that the kitchen was prepared for late-night drinks. Betty was so good at organizing. Perhaps she’ll continue to come when Elsie came home? he wondered. She had Alun to help out and running the pub wasn’t that hard. He was the one who’d need help. Elsie would need all his time, some spoiling, being reminded how much she was loved.
He went to have his hair cut and stayed for a chat with a few friends, before going back to the guest house to collect the few treats he had bought to take into the hospital. The phone rang as he was leaving, but a glance at the clock reminded him of how long he had been away and he ignored it. If it was important they would ring back. He didn’t think it would be about Elsie. She was sleeping and would have Betty for company when she woke. And he would be back with her very soon.
He went to the shops and paid for his newspapers and put in the order at Mrs Harvey’s grocery shop, then drove back to the hospital.
When he walked into the hospital he saw Betty and knew at once that the worst had happened.
‘I’m so sorry, Ed,’ Betty said.
‘Why wasn’t I with her?’ he wailed ‘Why did you tell me not to rush back?’
Betty sat him down and let him rage about the unfairness of it all. She had phoned Alun again and told him she would wait until the first stage of the procedures had been dealt with, then drive her brother home.
Ed was numb with grief and was unable to gather his thoughts. She drove him back to the guest house where the young cleaner had kindly waited to see how she could help.
‘I have to go, Ed,’ Betty said. ‘We have to open the bar but I’ll be back as soon as the first rush is over.’
‘Yes, you go. I’ll have to manage, won’t I? My Elsie’s dead but you have to open the bar!’
She ignored the petulance in his voice and with relief, drove back to the Ship – and Alun. When she reached home, Alun said nothing. He just put his arms around her and held her. He rested his cheek on her head and once or twice, kissed her forehead. She was so grateful for his strength and comfort she didn’t move for a very long time.
The following days went in a blurr of activity and phone calls as arrangements were made. Betty and Alun told the staff to refuse further bookings at the guest house for the following two weeks and Ed stayed there alone. He made it clear he didn’t want people coming in offering condolences.
‘They didn’t bother with her while she was alive and you hardly bothered even when she was in hospital, so why should I have to listen to false sympathy now?’
He told everyone he wanted a quiet funeral and only a few ignored him and went anyway. Elsie had been unable to go out for several months and even before that her social activities had been seriously curtailed. Friends had lost touch, there was no family, and it was only a few neighbours and business people who followed the coffin that day. Even fewer went back to the guest house where Betty and Alun had provided a meal and at nine o’clock that night they left Ed alone as he had requested, and promised to call the following day.
‘Is there a will, d’you know?’ Alun asked, as they walked home.
‘Hardly likely. With Ed as sole beneficiary, Elsie probably didn’t bother.’
‘It makes things a bit easier, that’s all.’
‘I hope having the business to run will make things easier for Ed. He’ll have to get on with things. There’ll be no time to sit and mope or dwell on his grief. That must be a good thing.’
‘We’ll have to step back and not encourage him to depend on us too much. He’s been running the place practically single-handedly for months and we mustn’t make him feel unable to cope now Elsie’s no longer there.’
Betty shrugged. ‘I know I wasn’t pleased when he married Elsie but now I’m selfish enough to be relieved that he has the business, and a life of his own.’
Silently Alun agreed.