Over the following days, life went on at Llyn Hir as though everything had returned to normal but there was still an atmosphere of unease. Lottie refused to discuss the unexpected shock of Ronald’s will any further, but the mystery of his unkindness to his wife was on everyone’s mind. Mabs too refused to comment. She ignored Lottie when they met. To Greg and Zena, she insisted that their mother knew the reason for their father’s actions and, until she was told, she wouldn’t speak to Lottie again. She was very strained in her communication with them too, but when Greg turned up as usual to help in the night café she treated him as always, with a hug and a ‘Thank you, lovely boy’.
It made it difficult for them all, being unable to share their grief. Trying to avoid remarks on happy moments from the past that included their father, usually also included Mabs, who had been such a close part of their lives and avoiding her name was a constant worry.
Zena went home one day about two weeks after the funeral to find all her father’s clothes tied up in a bundle. They were going to the place where tramps called to find replacements when their clothes and shoes were worn. Other items were included, that would be sold to provide food for them. His personal possessions were placed in a box from which friends could take anything they wanted. Books were left there and some records, which Lottie offered to Mabs.
‘Thank you but no, I don’t need anything to remind me of my brother. Unless you find a diary!’ she said sharply. ‘I know you must have hurt him badly and I want you to tell me how.’
‘Ronald was my husband. And what went on within our marriage is my business and no one else’s.’
‘He was my brother, and I need to know why he acted so badly. His family was his life; you and the children were his greatest pride and delight, so what went wrong? What did you do to him?’
‘If you don’t want any of his books I’ll take them to the hospital,’ Lottie replied, ignoring the question. ‘Some of the patients are glad of a book to read.’
Dismissed, Mabs left.
The house was cheered by visits from Nelda and her two lively girls. Their laughter and their endless questions brought the place to life after weeks of anxiety and worry. When she knew they were coming, Lottie busied herself cooking, making all the things children loved, cakes and biscuits, as well as sausage rolls with which Bobbie enthusiastically helped. The large garden and the fields beyond were perfect for adventurous play, with even Georgie managing to climb to where the tree-house still stood. Greg promised to get it strengthened so they could have tea there next time.
They walked in the woods and even down the rocky path to the edge of the lake, although the girls were warned never to go there without an adult. The company of the children did more that anything else to help Lottie. Zena knew this and invited them again for the following weekend.
Greg and Uncle Sam fixed the tree house ready for them with smiles of satisfaction. It had been Sam’s father Neville, who had made it originally and he came to inspect their work and nodded approval. It was the saddest time and the happiest, Zena thought. Such a pity her father hadn’t been there to enjoy it.
Jake was back in London but since the misunderstandings, he promised to come home every other week and he telephoned fairly regularly. With frequent communication between them and getting back to the daily minutiae there was always plenty to say and they returned to their former closeness.
Madeleine was unrepentant about her failure to let Zena know about his presence in her flat, insisting she hadn’t wanted to worry his little countrygirl. Happily, Jake took the simplest way out and believed she had acted out of kindness and nothing more.
Rose hadn’t been to see them since she had called and found Jake lying on Madeleine’s couch. She was embarrassed, and also sad, presuming that his presence there was more than Madeleine helping a sick friend to recover. As she imagined them becoming close, she was reminded of her empty life and the loss of Greg. Sadness turned to bitterness at the thought of how the Martin family had ruined everything. Bitterness was easier to cope with than sadness. She missed the company of Jake and Madeleine but they probably didn’t want her intruding.
Jake was at the shop watching the people coming out of the staff entrance and waved when he saw her. ‘Madeleine has tickets for a show,’ he said taking her arm and tucking it in to his own. ‘You’ll come, won’t you? Meet you early and go for a meal first. Celebrate my mended arm. We’ll be here when the store closes on Saturday. All right?’ Other plans were made over the next few days and it was with relief that she returned to their casual friendship.
His arm injury still prevented him driving but did not stop Jake working. He delivered messages by bus and sometimes on foot, and collected payments. He became expert at collecting long overdue amounts, smiling with perseverance and developing a knack of embarrassing people and persuading them to pay up. He told them he only received wages on what he collected, and thanked them with great humility when they succumbed to his deceit. The plaster on his arm helped. He’d be sorry to lose it.
When something especially good happened, he celebrated by inviting Madeleine and Rose for a meal or to the theatre. He intended to tell Zena every time they went out together, to prevent more misunderstandings, but each time he changed his mind and decided not to. It was innocent and telling her might make it sound more important that it was, so he said nothing. After all it was connected with his work, keeping the secretary sweet was part of the job, she was an important cog in the wheels of his increasing success. When changes were made in the running of the firm, he was informed immediately and before anyone else, so he knew exactly what was happening. She was also good at covering when he was inadvertently late for an appointment.
There was the time a lady was almost knocked down by a car so he called for a taxi to take her home, after buying her a cup of tea in a nearby café. Then there were the hours he wasted helping a youngster to hunt for his missing dog, which they found sitting outside a café, where they then sat and drank tea to recover from all the effort.
Madeleine kept a diary of their entertainments and saved their theatre programmes writing on them the date and who had taken her, although it was she who usually paid.
Zena increased the time she spent with Mr Roberts without charging him. She liked him and was pleased to help. She had learned that he had three sons who rarely visited. Dick and William lived in Newport and Jack, the youngest, lived just a few miles away in Bridgend. She was curious to know why the three sons so rarely contacted their father and hoped it wasn’t a quarrel. Quite likely it was just the usual lack of need as they grew to adulthood with lives of their own and, now involved with their own families, had allowed things to gradually drift.
She learned from Doris that it was his birthday soon. Perhaps she would find out then. He was sure to receive cards from them, wasn’t he? She crossed her fingers with a silent wish.
She continued to take a few cakes when she went to clean. She enjoyed cooking and living with her mother who dealt with the catering for the three of them, she had little reason to do so. Mr Roberts happily accepted her gifts, muttering about paying her until she smilingly threatened to bring no more if he mentioned the subject again. He thought of a thank-you gift. She was engaged wasn’t she? She wouldn’t refuse a gift for her bottom drawer.
He banged on the wall one day soon after she’d gone and shouted, ‘Doris! Do-o-ori-i-s.’ His neighbour came in and he asked her to choose a suitable gift for his young cleaning lady who was so kind. ‘Engaged she is, so something for the wedding, d’you think?’
‘If it’s that Jake Williams she’s marrying it’s a pot of patience is what she’ll need,’ was Doris’s reply, ‘and you can’t buy that!’
‘What’s wrong with him?
‘Feckless, irresponsible. Everyone’s best friend. But as a husband, perish the thought! He thinks charm is all he needs to make his way in the world.’
‘She’s making a mistake?’
‘Jake is harmless enough, mind, but he loves helping people and although that isn’t a bad thing, old cynic that I am, I think it’s the praise he needs rather than the joy of helping. Zena will always come second, believe me.’
‘So, flowers then?’
‘Perfect! I’ll find a really pretty bunch.’
Greg began to enjoy brief visits to London, but always spent some of the time scouring the shops, foolishly hoping for a clues to where Rose was working. Several times he thought he saw her and hurried over only to find it was a stranger.
Once he did see her but at first he didn’t recognize her and when he did he was so surprised he didn’t approach her. She had cut her hair and had bleached it to a startling blonde. Her clothes were smart and there was such a look of confidence about her that for a moment he couldn’t believe what he had seen, but this time he wasn’t mistaken. He followed her, trying to decide what he would say but she jumped a bus, standing on the platform at the back of the double-decker as passengers slowly moved in and found seats. She didn’t look back. He stood, staring after the bus and saw her still on the platform, holding onto the post at the foot of the stairs. Then she turned and climbed to the top deck, and he walked away.
He had noted the number of the bus and the time but wasn’t sure whether he would come again. A completely new style of dress, a more impressive job and an air of confidence he had never before seen, perhaps meant a new man in her life. Unbelievably, Rose had become a stranger.
He bought a book to read on the train but although he turned pages, he didn’t take anything in. Between his eyes and the print, Rose’s face with its changed image interrupted his concentration.
Rose had surprised herself by discovering a skill for selling. Learning to use make-up and fashionable dress helped her confidence, and selling is as much confidence as knowing your stock and enjoying what you do. She loved her new job having quickly realized she had a flair for it. She was able to assess a price range with which a customer was comfortable and by not offering anything at prices too high or too low she helped them to relax and enjoy selecting their gifts.
She enjoyed the social side of London with Madeleine and Jake, thankfully treating Jake as nothing more than a friend; she didn’t want any more traumas in her life. She had invited him to her room once, when they had needed to shelter from the rain, but both had been uneasy. Greg had appeared without warning and if he did so again when they were together it would be embarrassing to explain.
Frank and Mabs’s first customer for their night café had been little Sid. He had turned up one day while the café was still only a daytime business and one day when it closed he had been upset and told Mabs he had nowhere to go.
‘What about your family?’ she asked, and he explained that they had taken over the house where he and his wife had lived for thirty years.
‘I know it sounds impossible but it happened. Once my wife died, my daughter-in-law and son pushed me out of my room, insisting my large room was wasted on one small person and they put the children in there. Then I was moved again. What I have now is what was a store room next to the kitchen. The kitchen, I am reminded, is strictly out of bounds. All the furniture has been replaced, my things thrown away. When their friends visit I’m expected to disappear into my miserable room.’
Mabs and her husband Frank had listened to his story, at first with disbelief and then with anger. He was their reason for opening the café, Sid and others like him. The reasons varied but the people who found their café, all needed somewhere safe and warm with the companionship of others, to pass away the lonely hours of darkness.
Frank had invited a few of the night people he saw regularly from his bus, and Sid had gradually introduced them to other men who had similar stories. Some had no family, some had been left when their children had moved away. Henry had lost his family when they could no longer cope with his constant fighting, drinking and the resulting court appearances.
Mabs and Frank began to stay open later than usual and allow the men to enjoy the warmth and friendliness of an increasing group of lonely people. They usually closed after midnight. When Frank died, and Mabs found the nights long and sleepless, she’d extended the hours until early morning. Since then her life had been fulfilled. Her busy routine was nights at the café, the mornings sleeping. Then Richard Thomas came to help.
Richard was another insomniac and, once he found the night café, he became a regular. He was a retired ex-teacher. After the untimely death of his wife, he’d been spending his night hours unsuccessfully courting sleep, eventually giving up to wander the streets, where he gradually got to know others and was introduced to Frankie’s night café. He became a volunteer after a few months and now Mabs – known as Frankie – worked four nights and Richard Thomas dealt with the rest, with Greg coming whenever he could.
Greg sometimes called as a customer when he had a long wait between journeys. He didn’t tell other drivers and conductors though. They weren’t the kind of people Mabs wanted to attract and their presence would have discouraged the people she did want. He drank his tea and ate a cake, helped when there was need and time, before going back to his bus for the next journey.
Sid, being the first of Mabs’s night time customers so long ago, considered himself to be the most important and he began to check newcomers before inviting them in. He knew Mabs wouldn’t have anyone who smelled of drink and if there was a sign of an argument it was he who quickly jumped up and opened the door for them to leave. All, that is, except when the quarrel included Henry. They were all a little afraid of Henry. Sid being less than five feet tall was the bravest but also the fastest on his feet if he didn’t think he could cope.
When a newcomer came in late one night, Sid stepped forward. ‘Hi, mate, I’m Sid, what’s your name?’
‘What’s it to you?’ the man asked. Sid shrugged and nodded to Greg, who came over and took the man’s order for tea and a sandwich.
‘I don’t like the look of him,’ Sid whispered to Greg. ‘That’s a prison haircut or I’m the Christmas fairy. And he’s got angry eyes.’
‘Don’t worry, Sid. I’ll watch him,’ Greg promised.
The man didn’t stay long but he came back the next night and for several after.
‘His name is Arthur Johns,’ Sid had learned, ‘and he’s been in prison for cheating money out of someone.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Just a few innocent questions, and a couple of guesses.’
Mabs frowned at him. ‘No more questions, Sid. We don’t want to stop him coming.’
‘But I don’t like him,’ Sid confided. ‘I hope he moves on.’
‘Me too,’ another muttered. ‘He’s got greedy eyes.’
Mabs laughed. ‘First angry eyes, and now greedy eyes! Have you two been reading books again?’ she joked.
The following night Arthur didn’t appear. In the local paper a few days later there was a report of a man called Arthur William Johns, who was in court on a charge of breaking and entering. Sid was jubilant. ‘Didn’t I tell you he was a bad ’n?’
‘Sure it was our Arthur, are you?’ Mabs asked.
‘I could see straight away that he was a bad ‘n.’
Mabs sighed. In a place like the night café, they were certain to attract a few unsavoury people. Best to forget about them, and carry on.
Lottie had refused to take money from Greg or Zena to help with the burden of the mortgage. It had to be cleared, she was determined on that, but the large debt was alarming and it seemed impossible. She smiled then, remembering a plaque on her mother’s wall, saying ‘The difficult we do at once, the impossible takes a little longer.’ It might take a little longer, but it would be done, she promised herself.
She had been working until Ronald had become so ill, so decided to ask for her job back. She had been working in the stationers and called after another visit from Mabs who had reminded her she had to face up to the difficulties in which Ronald had left her. She owed hundreds of pounds and had very little in the bank. The first thing she had done was sell the car and that money had gone straight to building society.
She constantly wondered what Ronald had needed the money for, and how he had spent it, but there was no clue to be found in the papers he had left. All she knew was that the money had gone. Whatever his reason it was her task to deal with it. She was determined to leave the house for her children to inherit rather than leave them with a debt.
The mortgage had been in arrears and she had practically emptied her own bank account and used it to cover the overdue payments and for two months ahead. That gave her a breathing space. The first thing she must do was to get a job, and fortunately the girl they had taken on in her place was leaving. It seemed that luck was with her so far. It was with relief that she took home her first week’s wage and parcelled it out in to the various books and tins for weekly payments and shopping and the frighteningly large mortgage. She decided to try and keep two months ahead in case there was a time she couldn’t pay and with just a small amount in her purse, she began her second week with a growing confidence, but still with a fear in the back of her mind that living so precariously meant she could fall into even more serious debt if her luck didn’t hold.
Both Greg and Zena insisted on increasing their contribution to the household expenses and Lottie accepted gratefully. Sam Edwards offered her a lift to work several mornings but this she refused, knowing how inconvenient it would be for him even though he’d have coped willingly. ‘I have to prove to myself I can manage on my own,’ she explained after thanking him. ‘It’s important to me.’
‘Then at least tell your Zena I’ll take her shopping when I get what Dad and I need, will you?’
‘Thanks, Sam, but we get most of it delivered.’
He nodded and smiled. ‘Any time you want help I’m there for you. All of you. Right?’
‘Right.’
Zena had come to an understanding with Nelda. The place was in a muddle every time she went there and at first she was afraid she had been too interfering by sorting out the dozens of wools and cottons and materials with which Nelda made her items to sell at the gift shop at Ilex House. But Nelda had been pleased with the result of Zena’s streamlining, her visits made it easier to find what she needed and, ordering supplies had become much simpler as she could see at a glance when she was running low. Zena had improved the stock reordering system by means of a simple notepad and had gradually sorted out the muddles and brought order to the storage. She checked regularly and left notes for Nelda to remind her when items were running low.
Bobbie and Georgie had bedrooms as chaotic as their mother’s workroom but she didn’t make the same determined effort to tidy up after them. She moved everything and cleaned, but then put everything back where she had found it. She smiled, remembering how she had hated having her room tidied when she’d set it out exactly as she wanted it. Several times she stayed with the children when Nelda had a large order to fill and usually found some new game for them to enjoy.
To her amusement, Bobbie began leaving notes for her. ‘Don’t touch the table, we’ve set it for a teddy bears’ picnic,’ was one. And ‘Will you tell Mammy that we are out of Marmite.’
Greg couldn’t forget Rose even though she had so completely moved away from him. He needed to talk to her just once more. There had to be a reason. Once he understood, he’d be able to let go, start dating again. There was a new girl at the bus garage called Susie Crane. She was pretty and had an appealing cheerfulness that attracted him. From the little he’d learned, she seemed open and relaxed about her family, a definite improvement.
If only he could escape from this obsession with Rose – but it wasn’t that simple. He had to know why. Those brief moments at the railway station and the glimpse of her running and jumping onto the bus, swinging aboard, hanging onto the pole before climbing the stairs was not enough. Before he invited Susie Crane out on a date, he decided to go to London for one last time.
‘Zena,’ he called as he went into the house. ‘Fancy a day in London? I have someone to meet and you could see Jake and we could go for a meal before coming home. Better still,’ he added, as the thought entered his head. ‘Let’s book a theatre and stay an extra day!’
‘Great! What days are you free? I’ll ring Jake and see if he’s in town, shall I?’
Arrangements made, they set off early. Zena enjoyed watching the scenery they passed; the fields were larger, there were fewer birch trees, but as at home, everywhere leaves were beginning to clothes the branches for the summer glory to come.
Jake was at the station to meet them. Zena and Jake left to wander around the crowded shops and Greg went to brave the large imposing store to ask about Rose Conelly.
For Zena it was a wonderful day. She and Jake bought gifts for the family and for each other, hiding them so the purchases were a surprise for later. ‘You deserve the best,’ he said, laughing, as she pushed him away from the window of an expensive jewellers.
‘Nothing expensive,’ Zena warned, ‘we’re saving to get married, remember.’
‘You deserve only the best,’ he said.
Jewellery was also involved in Greg’s day but the day wasn’t as happy. He stepped into the store and found himself in the fashion department and hurried through, head down feeling very self-conscious and uneasy. Then he relaxed, aware of the large number of men standing around waiting for wives and girlfriends, and nodded to a few as though sharing their bemusement at the behaviour of their women. He stopped to look around at the glittering counters and the glamorous assistants until he saw Rose. She was smilingly attending to a young lady at a jewellery counter. He stopped to watch her for a while before going up and asking to see some necklaces.
‘Greg! What are you doing here?’
‘I want to buy a necklace – for my mother. What do you recommend, Miss Conelly?’ he added, ostentatiously reading the name on her label.
‘Go away!’
‘Rhinestone necklaces are pretty. They pick up the light and sparkle, don’t they? Show me some of those, Miss ... Conelly,’ he said, again pretending to read her name from her badge.
‘They’re very expensive, sir.’
He stared at her, shuffling his feet as though impatient. Rose saw the floor walker approaching and hurriedly took a tray from below the glass counter.
‘Meet me after work or I’ll come back tomorrow and make a fuss,’ he whispered. ‘Now, give me a rhinestone brooch; I think my mother would prefer a brooch. D’you agree?’
‘All right. I finish today at four. Meet me at the main door.’
‘You will be there?’
‘I promise.’ The transaction on the brooch completed he walked away to wait until she was free. He didn’t really trust her but she knew that if he came tomorrow and asked about her there was a good chance she would be embarrassed, so he hoped she realized he meant it and would be there.
He wasn’t under the illusion that she would be going home with him; she had so determinedly cut him off he couldn’t imaginee being able to trust her again. He just had to know why she had run away. The story about someone else didn’t ring true. She had changed from the moment she had been introduced to his parents. Something had been said at that meeting which made her leave him. But what could it have been? There were no secrets in the family: then he remembered about the missing money and the shock of his father’s will and wondered. But how could anything his father had done be connected with Rose Conelly?
At 4.15, when he was just beginning to give up, she appeared.
With a nervous smile she guided him to a small café in a side road and ordered coffee for them both. Greg changed his to tea. Had she forgotten his preference already? He added sandwiches and a couple of cakes to the order and they sat in silence for it to arrive.
‘Just tell me why you ran away,’ he asked. ‘That’s all I want to know.’ She didn’t reply and he added, ‘If you’ve found some one else, I can live with that. Just tell me and I’ll go.’
‘I’m not ready to marry. That’s all, Greg. I was happy as your friend but I don’t want anything more.’
‘Tell me the truth.’ His voice was low and harsh.
‘That is the truth.’
‘All right, I’ll call into the shop tomorrow.’
‘Please, Greg.’
‘Tell me the truth and I’ll leave you alone.’ He looked at her and was alarmed to see tears forming and fear filling her eyes.
‘There are things about me that you don’t know. I can’t marry. Not anyone. But especially you. Please, go away. I don’t want to change jobs again, but I will if you don’t promise to leave me alone.’
‘Where were you living when you pretended to live in the house where I left you every night?’
‘A single room, a place I didn’t want you to see.’
‘Why didn’t you trust me? You must know I’d never hurt you and your secrets will stay with me forever. Just tell me. I can help you to sort them out.’
She excused herself, went to the ladies room and didn’t come back. He waited for half an hour then joined Zena and Jake at the theatre. They all went home the following day, Zena chatting happily and Greg insisting he’d had a wonderful day with Rose.
‘What d’you think of surprising Mam with a birthday party?’ Greg suggested, as they left the station. ‘Christmas was such a disaster and inviting a few friends to celebrate her birthday and the end of rationing at last might cheer her up. Specially if we can persuade Aunty Mabs to come.’ Both events might have gone unnoticed at Llyn Hir, the lack of excitement, the lethargy that had held the family since the death of Ronald and the shock of his will, seemed to have deadened every emotion.
Zena agreed and promised to try and persuade Mabs to share the planning. She had no success. Mabs was firmly convinced that their mother was responsible for the loss of the money.
Life for the Martins seemed to exist of a succession of days without plans for the months ahead. ‘It’s as though we are stuck in a time warp,’ Zena said to her brother.
‘Let’s do something completely different for Mam’s birthday then,’ he suggested. ‘More low key. She’d hate a big celebration, it would have the opposite effect than the one we were hoping for. We could go on a picnic, or have sausages and chips instead of a roast.’
All suggestions of a celebration received the same response from Lottie. She shrugged and said, ‘Please yourselves.’
Mabs was unhelpful and made it clear that she would not be involved with the birthday arrangements.
‘Aunty Mabs, you can’t carry on like this. I can’t believe Mam did anything so terrible that Dad could treat her so badly. You saw them over the months he was in hospital, holding hands, talking with affection and love. How can you believe she did something to deserve this? It might have been a misunderstanding or someone repeating untrue gossip, but whatever she did or didn’t do, you need each other. You’re both grieving for Dad.’
‘Change the subject, there’s a love. I can’t think about it.’
Zena and Greg went ahead with the plan but the day was not a success. Even the weather had been against them with a cold wind blowing and rain drifting past the windows and they were glad to light the fire and enjoy its warmth. After they had eaten the roast meal and Sam and Neville – the only guests – had gone back to the farm, Zena looked at her mother who was staring into the coals wearing that sad and weary expression that seemed never to leave her. Opposite her on the other side of the flickering fire sat Greg, almost a mirror image of her misery. She felt the same. It was as though a shroud of gloom covered them all.
The radio hummed in the background and conversation failed to rouse Lottie out of her misery. At eight o’clock, Greg looked at Zena and gave a shrug. ‘I think I’ll go to see Aunty Mabs. Coming, Zena? Mam?’
Lottie said she was going to bed, Zena snuggled on the couch with a blanket and prepared to stay.
In London, Rose had changed her job and her accommodation. She didn’t mention it either to Madeleine or Jake; she just moved and hoped they wouldn’t find her. She had to keep right away from everyone she knew. Knowing Greg could appear at any time had unnerved her. The move wasn’t an improvement. She had found a vacancy in a quality shoe shop – but nothing like any she had worked in before. This one was spacious but with fewer items on display. Each of the many types of footwear and various makes had their own department. The assistants were aloof, unfriendly and the customers were much the same and this suited her perfectly. The money was less but she felt safer in the anonymity of the store. She had moved to a different flat but not far, and was aware she was only a few streets away from Jake.
She grieved for Greg and the life he offered but knew she could never change her mind. Although it was ruining her life, she had to hold the secret safe. If she told him her story, everyone would soon know.
Jake saw her one day as he walked back to his flat but although he recognized her he didn’t call out. He watched as she disappeared into a large house that had been converted into bedsits and flats. From what he’d heard from Zena and Greg, she was running away in the hope of never being found, so best to pretend he hadn’t seen her.
He told Madeleine about the girl, wishing he could do something to cheer her. ‘She has some secret which she believed will stop her marrying, according to Zena. What that secret can be I have no idea, but it must be something truly awful for her to give up on marriage to Greg.’
‘She’ll probably spend Christmas all on her own, in a bedsit where it’s possible there are no facilities even to make a slice of toast,’ Madeleine said sadly. ‘What a pity you’re committed to spending those special days with Zena and her family. They have each other and poor Rose has no one.’
‘She won’t join us, so it’s no use asking. She refuses to see Greg.’
‘If you didn’t have to go to Cold Brook Vale, I could invite her to spend the days with us, you, me and Rose.’ She smiled and coaxed, ‘And I cook a very good dinner.’
‘You’re so thoughtful, Madeleine. If only—’
‘If only we could think of an excuse to make it possible. What a wonderful surprise it would be for poor Rose. Isn’t there any chance, Jake?’
They set off together to find her, Jake guiding them to the building he had seen Rose enter. They were smiling in anticipation of Rose’s delight when they told her of their plans for her.
Jake came home occasionally and Greg took the new conductress Susie Crane out a few times but at Llyn Hir, nothing changed. The three occupants spoke to each other less and less. There seemed nothing to say that didn’t remind them of the lethargy and disappointment in their lives.
Summer passed and autumn brought its beauty as well as the warning that winter was on its way, with leaves falling, dahlias in the garden bringing splashes of colour which Lottie failed to notice. Fireworks, Halloween and early signs of Christmas began to appear.
There weren’t the usual signs of preparation. No puddings made, or cake planned. The shelves that were usually filled with assorted pickles lay empty. Lottie had no interest in anything.
With determination, Zena began making plans. Jake would be home and Greg had hopes of inviting Susie to visit. She was so bright and cheerful, surely she would succeed in reaching out to Lottie and making her come alive again?
Zena was surprised to receive a letter from Jake telling her he might not be home as planned. He said that with appointments in France and Belgium, he didn’t know when he’d be home, but would let her know. She gave a wail of disappointment, then telephoned the office. Madeleine answered and explained that Jake was out of the office adding nothing more. Zena then wrote to him at the office, telling him that if he wasn’t there for Christmas Eve, he needn’t come at all. She marked the envelope ‘personal and private’. Madeleine read the letter, smiled and threw it in the bin.
Madeleine also tore up two Christmas cards: one from each of her parents. She didn’t even want such reminders in the flat to ruin Christmas by their false words.
It was at Christmas that she had found her mother with a man they called Uncle Jeremy. She had come home early from a friend’s house where she had been sent to stay the night, they were in bed and Madeleine, a twelve year old, had screamed, her mother had screamed and Uncle Jeremy hurriedly dressed and left.
Ignoring promises she had made to her mother in exchange for a new bicycle, she had told her father the moment he came home.
Her father had left immediately, her mother soon afterwards, and neither had invited her to go with them. Ironically, it was Uncle Jeremy’s wife who had taken her in, paid for her education and looked after her until she was old enough to manage on her own. Men are unreliable and women are fools, had been her attitude ever since.
Mabs did not want to share the family Christmas and she lied. She used the untruth that her dearest friend had died for that year’s reason for declining.
She decided she would stay in her flat. Or, she mused with a smile, perhaps she would open the café for a few hours. She would cook a dinner for those of her regulars who hadn’t been invited to any family gathering. When she casually mentioned the possibility, she was surprised just how many there were. ‘Not a word to Greg, mind,’ she warned them. ‘I don’t want him to come. His place is at home with his family.’
There were just one or two buses on Christmas morning to take workmen for their early shifts and, with such a strange uneasy mood in the house and an absence of any cheer, Greg happily volunteered.
Driving back to the depot to collect his bike and go home, he passed the café and was surprised to glimpse activity behind the drawn curtains. He went to the door and walked in. Aunty Mabs was carrying a huge platter of turkey slices into the kitchen and on the counter were piles of vegetables. Without a word he took the platter from her and carried it through, then began cutting up the vegetables ready for cooking.
‘Sorry, Greg. I hoped you wouldn’t find out. I didn’t want to involve you, but I liked the idea. When I asked, casual-like, if anyone was interested I was amazed at how many people would be on their own, so I decided to open up.’
‘I’ll go home to have dinner with the others but then I’ll come back,’ he promised.
‘I’m cooking for five o’clock, so there’s no rush. Most of them sleep during the day as you know.’
‘What a peculiar Christmas this is. Rose has vanished and will be all alone in a strange place. Jake hasn’t arrived as promised and, as he was given an ultimatum by Zena, it seems that now he never will. Mam is on the edge of tears and you are missing us and ruining your own Christmas as well as everyone else’s. Come back with me and we can eat whatever Mam has prepared and still be in plenty of time to cook for your old boys. We’ll get a taxi if we can, or Uncle Sam will bring us down in his van.’
‘I can’t, Greg, love. Not until your Mam tells me what happened between her and your father. He was my brother-in-law and I need to know what she did.’
‘Why Mam?’ he dared to ask. ‘Couldn’t it have been something Dad did? Perhaps he took a chance on a risky investment. He’d remortgaged the house yet died leaving large debts. Where did the money go? Some sort of gamble could be a more believable explanation, couldn’t it?’ Mabs didn’t reply and he said nothing more. He just helped her finish the preparations and set the tables, then walked her home.
Christmas lunch was a tense affair with any light-hearted humour painfully forced, and he was glad to make an excuse of visiting friends and go back to the café.
When the diners were gathered and were wearing silly hats provided by Mabs, Arthur walked in, the man whom they all thought had been sent to prison for burglary. Little Sid ran to stand in front of Mabs. ‘Sorry, mate, but this is a private party.’
‘It’s all right, Sid, he’s welcome.’ Mabs pointed to the empty chair at Sid’s table and grudgingly, Sid moved aside for him to sit.
Greg set a place for him and found one final cracker. ‘It was as if you’d known he’d come,’ he said to Mabs, who shrugged and said nothing.
‘We heard you was in prison,’ Sid whispered to the newcomer.
‘Yes, but I came out yesterday. I served my sentence all but a couple of days and I’m never going back.’
‘That’s what they all say,’ George muttered.
Arthur glanced to where Mabs was slicing more meat. ‘She made up my mind for me. Talked she did, while I was in prison, and what she said convinced me to stay on the straight and narrow. You can believe it or not, but that was the last time I go to prison.’
It was the most he had ever said and Sid and George stared in disbelief. ‘Our Frankie visited you in prison?’
‘Never!’ Sid gasped.
‘And not a word, right? She doesn’t want people to know.’
The visit from Mabs had released something in Arthur’s mind and he talked and laughed during those three hours, and took his turn at reading the silly jokes from the crackers just as the others did. Mabs whispered to Sid, ‘What sort of eyes has he today, Sid?’
‘It’s very strange, Frankie, they’re just blue. An ordinary blue!’
George shivered. ‘I still think he’s dangerous,’ he insisted.
Greg played cards with George and Sid and hesitantly Arthur agreed to join in. He was the first to leave and he thanked them all for their welcome and repeated his promise of going straight.
Greg thought later that serving dinner to eight men, listening to their reminiscences and pulling crackers and laughing at the silly jokes, had been the happiest part of the day.
‘Don’t worry,’ Mabs said, hugging him after the guests had gone. ‘Next year will be as Christmas should be, a special time that binds families together, just like always.’
Greg smiled and silently hoped for a miracle.
On the day after Boxing Day Jake arrived in his car, loaded with gifts. Several had foreign labels and he explained that he had been shopping in strange towns, and how the language had confused him and he laughingly told them they would find a few unintended purchases among them. Then he looked at Zena and Greg and was startled at the cold expressions on their faces.
‘What’s happened?’ he asked. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Where were you yesterday and the day before?’ Zena asked.
‘I told you. I wrote and told you I was held up and couldn’t get back. Travel wasn’t easy and I had to stay until late last night.’ He went to hug her but she stepped back and Greg put an arm around her shoulders protectively. ‘Zena, lovely girl, what’s the matter? I got off the boat, caught a train to London, rushed to the office and collected the car and came straight here. Why are you angry with me?’
‘I phoned the office and you weren’t there. That secretary didn’t know where you were, but said she’d tell you to ring me if you got in touch. Then I wrote. Don’t tell me you didn’t get the letter, I just won’t believe you.’
‘How could I get a letter? I was in France.’
‘Were you?’
‘What about showing us your passport, Jake?’ Greg asked, and Jake looked at Zena, his expression one of outrage. ‘I certainly won’t! I’m hurt if you don’t believe me. I don’t have to prove what I’m saying. You shouldn’t doubt me.’
Greg began to close the door but Zena stood back to let Jake step inside. In silence Greg helped him to bring in his case and parcels from the car.
In an uneasy truce Lottie made a meal for Jake and they talked spasmodically about the past days, Jake insisting he had been stuck in train stations and queues as he tried to get home, the others exaggerating the wonderful time he had missed. Presents were exchanged and it was clear that no one was excited by them, except Jake who exaggeratedly praised them and remarked on the clever choices.
When Jake and Zena went for a walk in the dark, crisp night, Greg went into the dining room where Jake had dumped his cases, searched through them and found his passport. Jake hadn’t been out of the country for more than two years, when France had been his destination. He put it back where he had found it, in a wallet hidden in a pile of clothing. He couldn’t decide what to do. Should he tell his sister that Jake had been lying? Or speak to Jake himself? He was still undecided when Jake came back with Zena, who went straight to her room. Jake gathered his things and drove to his usual lodgings with hardly a word.
Greg knocked on his sister’s door but didn’t tell her what he had found. Still undecided, hoping that Jake would tell her and explain these latest lies, he said Jake was not a man to trust her life to, and left it at that. She just nodded and he closed her door, standing there for a few moments still undecided, then went to bed.
Lottie had been even more subdued over the past few days. She had cooked the food and eaten it but with hardly a word spoken. Conversations drifted around her but there was no sign that she heard what was said. She was lost in a world the others couldn’t penetrate and after a while they didn’t try, just talked and hugged her, bought her flowers and her favourite chocolates and tried to please her, but mainly, left her to work her way through her distress.
They guessed she had been thinking of previous Christmases and grieving for the loss of their father, but Lottie had put aside grief and was trying to think how he could have secretly taken risks and lost their money.
She couldn’t talk to Zena or Greg about it, afraid she would show her hurt in anger and would say things about their father they shouldn’t hear. She wouldn’t offer a word of criticism until she found out what had happened. To spoil their memories of a loving, caring father and husband then find out later that what he had done was something perfectly understandable, would be a terrible mistake. But what reason could there be? She had always felt secure in Ronald’s love. There had been no secrets between them.
Since his death there had been many nights without sleep as she tried to think of an acceptable explanation but found none. She had to find out what had happened. But would the truth be a comfort? Or a terrible shock?
Zena went about the routine tasks at the end of the day and wondered where Jake had gone. Back to London and that secretary whom, she suspected, had been less than diligent at passing on messages and letters?
Or had he found a room here in Cold Brook Vale with his ex-landlady? It was almost ten o’clock but she suddenly decided to try and find him. Whatever his reason for not coming home she had to at least listen to his explanation. She took her cycle and rode to where he had once lived but there was no sign of the car and, when she knocked, there was no reply.
On a whim she went to her flat, from which the tenants had gone. She needed to check that the place was clean and ready for new tenants arriving in two weeks. There was a light in the kitchen and she just knew it was Jake. Taking out her key she opened the door and walked in. Jake was sitting at the table, a jar of honey and a few cracker biscuits on a plate in front of him. ‘Sorry, love, but I thought you wouldn’t mind. My landlady didn’t have a room, see, she needed more notice, and I couldn’t face sleeping in the car.’
‘Where have you been, Jake?’
‘London. I was in London giving a lonely, unhappy young girl a good Christmas.’
‘Madeleine Jones?’
‘No, er, yes, sort of.’
Zena began to walk to the door. ‘Stay tonight but tomorrow I want your key.’
‘All right, I’ll tell you the truth.’
‘Or another lie?’
‘It was Rose Conelly. She wouldn’t explain why she left Greg, she just told me she can never marry. She is living in a sordid little room with no cooking facilities.’ He gave an exaggerated description of a place very different from the one he’d seen. ‘She’s friendless and very unhappy. Madeleine found out and, well, we couldn’t bear to think of her alone and without even a proper meal at Christmas time, so we invited her to Madeleine’s flat and gave her the kind of day most people have.’
‘So you let me down because of Rose being unhappy? Jake, we’re supposed to be getting married. How can I marry someone so thoughtless and unkind?’
‘You had your brother and your mother and Aunty Mabs, friends calling in. You had a home, the warmth of a loving family, good food and gifts. Rose had nothing.’
‘You spent the day with Madeleine and Rose and then lied to me. I’d have thought better of you if you hadn’t lied. We could have done something for Rose, together.’
‘I daren’t tell you, lovely girl.’
‘You daren’t tell me? This gets better and better!’
‘If I’d told you and you refused, I wouldn’t have been able to help her, see?’ He looked at her anxiously. ‘I love you, Zena, you know I do, I want you to be my wife. I want to be a part of your family. But it was Christmas and Rose had no one.’
Zena felt an irresistible urge to laugh. Seeing the smile twitching her lips Jake leapt up and hugged her. ‘I knew you’d understand.’
‘Like I understood when you bought a car we didn’t need because a friend hadn’t a car to go on holiday? And when you gave my bicycle away because a nurse in the village needed it for work?’
‘I can’t help it, my lovely girl.’
‘Will it always be like this, Jake? You putting every lame duck you meet before me?’
‘Sometimes people take advantage of me, but that’s a chance I take. I shouldn’t involve you, I know that, but if someone’s in trouble I can’t help myself. While I’m being honest, I’ll admit that I’m unlikely to change.’
‘Is there anything between you and this Madeleine Jones?’
‘Good heavens, no! Terrifying she is! She only suggested this day for Rose because she too was on her own. To be honest, I know she wouldn’t have cancelled any arrangements of her own to give Rose a good time.’
‘I think she was pleasing you, not Rose Conelly.’
Jake ignored the remark and went on, ‘If I’d told you about Rose, I wouldn’t have needed to persuade you to help her, would I?’
‘Perhaps not, but I wouldn’t have ruined your Christmas to please someone else. I suspect your impulses are for yourself and never for me. Not ever for me. There are so many instances of you being praised for your generosity, but you were giving away things taken from someone else – including me. That isn’t even honest, is it?’
‘Come on, lovely girl, you didn’t really mind about my giving away your old bike, did you?’
‘You’re evading an answer, Jake. Isn’t it the truth that you just love to be loved? That you’re happiest when people praise you and tell others how wonderful you are?’
‘We can share this thing. There are so many ways to make people feel happy and I know you’ll understand when we do it together. I won’t do anything again before we discuss it.’
‘No more secrets?’
‘None, I promise.’
An hour later, by which time Greg and Lottie were beginning to worry about her, Zena and Jake arrived home. Both were smiling. With very little explanation, Jake was given supper, a blanket and the couch.
Zena didn’t sleep easily. She was considering how she would cope with a husband who attracted lost sheep and became their saviour. She became drowsy at last and saw Rose’s face, and the many people he had helped in his life plus others – strangers – in a montage of what life with Jake would be. Then the dream became nonsense and she saw Jake in a field; laughing, surrounded by sheep laughing with him and beckoning her into his world. She awoke with an uneasy feeling that she would not be able to cope.