Rhoda was in a bad mood. Her parents and her sister had pointed out with unnecessary sternness that she had to find something to do. More than that, she needed to earn some money. It was so unfair. She’d never worked. How could Brian have left her in this mess? Why couldn’t her family see how impossible it was for her? She still grieved for Bri and needed time to adjust before making any decisions about her future. How could she consider work? The word was such an ugly one, with connotations of poorly dressed, grubby-handed people. A career, now that was better.
She thought about it while hand-washing her precious nylons and drying them on a soft towel. As she re-polished her nails, she still hadn’t come up with an idea. If something didn’t happen soon she might have to marry Ned Hardy!
On cue, the doorbell sounded and there he was, P.C. Hardy, honest face looking as if it were scrubbed twice a day: a pleasant, sincere, unexciting young man, but, he was there!
“Ned. How lovely. Make a cup of tea while my varnish is drying, will you? Mam’s out with the children and I’ve so much to do. My hands will be ruined with all the washing.” She touched her brow with a beautifully manicured hand.
Ned took her hand and kissed it reverently. “Hands like these should never have any work to do,” he said shyly. Silently, she agreed with him.
“Come for anything special, have you?” she asked.
“I’m wondering if you’d help with the scouts picnic this year.”
“I’d love to, Ned, dear, but when is it? So many calls on my time, things get so booked up, don’t they?”
“Yes. I remember how disappointed you were when you weren’t able to come to the Jumble Sale.” he said, not seeing the grimace of distaste appearing briefly on her lovely face. “Still, this is on a Saturday. Two weeks’ time.”
She frowned prettily and pursed her lips. “I’ll have to check with Mam of course, I’m sometimes needed to help with the children while Miranda and Dadda do the shopping.” She smiled, and touched his smooth cheek. “I want to help you, Ned, dear and I’ll come with you if I can, I promise.”
“Thanks.”
When he was about to leave she shuddered in a ladylike manner and asked herself if she could manage to survive a lifetime of being Mrs Ned Hardy, with the limited social life that this would offer. No eating out, no dances, apart from those run for pimply members of the youth club. Then there were scout meetings, jumble sales, choir practices and fund-raising committees. The alternative was work, so she decided she could.
His kisses were always brief. Almost formal. More like an uncle kissing a baby. Today, she would add a bit of “zing” to them. If she couldn’t wake him out of his respectful torpor today, she’d go and look for a job.
He gave the usual light touch of his lips on hers but this time her arms went around his neck. She felt his shoulders go rigid with shock but held him close, her fingers ruffling his hair, and refused to separate her trembling lips from his. When she finally allowed him to break away, his eyes looked down at her like those of a startled owl. She looked at him, closed her eyes and waited for a repeat. It was a long time coming and she almost dispaired but he kissed her again and this time there was less of the uncle and a little more of the impatient lover about him. She sighed contentedly.
Charlotte saw very little of Joe. The engagement, or understanding, she had had with Danny had been over on her part as soon as it had begun, but as she had waffled and wavered and been unable to tell him she didn’t love him, she was now having to suffer the consequences. Joe must certainly think she had loved Danny and was unhappy at his leaving. How could she expect him to believe otherwise? Why hadn’t she spoken out, explained to both Danny and Joe how she felt? Now it was too late.
She went along Main Street one Saturday morning and bumped into Joe coming out of Vi and Willie’s café.
“Hello my pretty. Are you in a hurry, or can you stop and have a cup of tea? I’ve bought some buns, look.” Lowering his voice in mock imitation of his Auntie Bessie he said, “Now there’s a thing. I must have known I’d bump into you.”
“Put the kettle on, will you, while I serve? You’ll see I’ve put everything ready.”
There was no cubbyhole of an office in the new premises, but there was a small, neat kitchen behind the shop. A table and two chairs, a shelf for china, a shining new kettle and a new cooker made it easy for her to find everything and when Joe came in the kettle was just starting to steam.
“Still four sugars for you?” he asked with a grin.
“Joe. You know I don’t take any,” She smiled.
They began to eat the buns and drink their tea. Charlotte served someone with a torch and another with a replacement wind-screen wiper, a third with a new headlamp.
“Thanks,” he said when the rush was over. “We always did work well, didn’t we?”
“I’ve missed you,” she said quietly. “There’s so much to deal with and no one to discuss it with.”
“Talk away, I’m always here to listen.” He searched under a curtain hiding a set of shelves. “Damn notice, where’s it gone?”
“You don’t still have your ‘Back in ten minutes’ notice!”
“It’s here somewhere.” He grinned at her. “What say we put it up and have another cup of tea? Go to the café if you like?”
She shook her head. “No, you’ll miss some customers. If you let them down once they might not come back.”
“There’s a businesswoman talking,” he said. “How is business at Russell’s Bookbinders and Restorers?”
“Dad is coming in once a week and he’s found someone to do any restoration or repair work, not that we’ve been offered any yet.”
“That’s great! Once people know Eric Russell is there you’ll soon see an increase in that side of the business.” He touched her hand. “How are you, my pretty? Not too much for you, all this, is it? Danny leaving you and all?”
There was the chance to say, I never loved him, it was all a mistake, but the words wouldn’t come. “I love working at the factory, but Rhoda doesn’t do much and—” She stopped, wary of criticising her sister in case she and Joe were still seeing each other. “I mean, I could do with some help at home.”
“Don’t rely on Rhoda. Advertise for someone. My Auntie Bessie can’t oblige as she’s promised to help your Dad and young Miranda with the children when they move out of Mill House.”
“She wouldn’t come back anyway,” Charlotte smiled. “She’s been a saint putting up with Mam all these years, but she won’t come back.”
“Housework is getting a bit too much for her, bless her heart,” Joe said. “The children will be hard but at least it’ll be a change.”
“Here we are, sitting talking like two old women!” Charlotte said, rising and putting the cups in the shining white sink.
“Come again,” Joe said. “I miss you.”
There it was again, the chance to start putting things right betwen them but still she couldn’t say the words. Afraid of being hurt, of hearing him say it was no longer her he wanted, that he found Rhoda more exciting, more fun, she swallowed any attempt to explain about Danny.
“Goodbye, Joe.” She left the shop and hurried up the street without glancing back.
Lillian walked up the hill to Mill House several times in the weeks that followed. She would arrive weary and breathless at the door and ask for Danny.
Charlotte spoke kindly to her, invited her in and, on one occasion, when the girl refused to believe Danny wasn’t there, allowed her to walk through the big house, examining every room. Lillian lumbered through the rooms, fascinated by the attractive home, gasping at its size, the comfort of carpets and the big upholstered chairs and highly polished tables. She was particularly interested in the electric cooker and the fridge, neither of which she had seen before.
Harriet was more abrupt when she spoke to the girl, telling her to go home and stop pestering them. She would close the door the moment she had said her piece.
It was on one such occasion that Harriet realised Lillian was unwell. As she was about to shut the door, she saw that Lillian had been crying.
“What’s the matter, girl? What are you thinking of walking all this way and you in that condition!”
“Got a belly-ache that hurts right through to my back,” was Lillian’s explanation. “I want to go home.”
“You shouldn’t have come, silly girl,” Harriet remonstrated. “Hasn’t your mother told you to stay near your house? You’d better come in and wait. I’ll get a taxi to take you home.”
“A taxi?” The idea appealed to Lillian. She smiled through her tears and sat obediently while Harriet telephoned and put on her coat. Between the pains she looked around the sunlit room and saw a thin layer of dust on the dark oak table which held a vase of flowers. Surreptitiously she lifted her skirt and used it to polish the surface with a look of pleasure on her podgy, red face.
While they waited for the taxi to arrive, Harriet didn’t sit with Lillian. She busied herself putting away the dishes they had used at lunchtime and setting the table for the evening meal, jobs she usually left to Charlotte, but which she preferred to the task of amusing poor Lillian.
Lillian cried on and off. When she went to see what was the matter, Lillian shook her head and said it was nothing, she just wanted her Mam.
While Harriet clattered about ineffectually in the kitchen the girl began to wail, yelling occasionally, then returning to a wailing, sobbing moan. Harriet decided it was simply for attention and ignored her. Then a loud shriek startled her and she went in to see the girl lying on the floor, curled up and panting. Her eyes were wide and terrified.
“Make it go away!” she cried. “It’s hurting me. Where’s Mam? Aaahhh!”
“The baby!” Harriet’s shriek was almost as loud as Lillian’s. Harriet put a cushion under the girl’s head when she had calmed between contractions and ran once more to the telephone. The number of the factory was engaged. “Where’s Charlotte?” she asked the world at large. “Where is the girl! How can I be expected to deal with this?” The taxi arrived at the same time as the ambulance and close behind them was Miranda with the children she had met from school.
It was too late for Lillian to be taken to hospital for the birth.
“How long has it been hurting?” the ambulance man asked.
“Long time. Mam give me ginger for the belly-ache,” Lillian sobbed. “Bad belly-ache this time.”
When Lillian eventually held her daughter, and was taken in the ambulance to the hospital, Harriet went with her.
“Are you sure?” Miranda asked. Charlotte had told her how Harriet hated hospitals.
“I can’t let her go on her own, she’s so frightened and doesn’t really know what’s happened.”
“Then shall I go?”
Harriet shook her head. She knew Eric would be pleased if she did this and pleasing Eric was important to her. “Best I go, Miranda, dear. She knows me and there’s no time to go for her mother. Ring Charlotte will you? The number was engaged when I tried. Tell her to go down, now, this minute, and tell Bertha where her daughter is.” Harriet sat in the ambulance holding Lillian’s fat hand and looking down at the tiny mite in the girl’s arms.
“My baby,” Lillian said, bemused. “Will Mam still let me have the bantams?”
“I’m sure she will.” Harriet said softly. “What are you going to call your baby?”
“Danny.”
“That’s a boy’s name. You have a baby girl.”
“I’ll ask Mam, then.”
“What about Danielle? That’s a pretty name for a girl.” Harriet suggested.
“Will she be pretty? She won’t be slow, will she?”
“She’ll be quick and clever and so beautiful you’d never believe,” Harriet said softly.
News of the birth of Lillian’s baby spread with the town’s usual efficiency. The headline news was that it had been Harriet who had assisted at the birth, on the floor of Mill House. The name Danielle, which Bertha dismissed as too fancy, but on which Lillian was determined, added to the speculation of who the father was. Miranda held her head high and insisted that the name Danielle had nothing to do with her brother. Harriet was pleased to have her suggestion accepted. Eric said nothing.
To everyone’s surprise, Harriet was enchanted by the baby. She visited Lillian in hospital each day and when she was home, continued to call at the cottage near the river with gifts and advice.
“It’s all right.” Bessie grumbled one day in Bertha’s cottage, when Harriet was showing Lillian how to “burp” the baby after feeding. “We all know how to get a baby’s wind up for heaven’s sake. And who d’you think fed and winded and looked after yours if it wasn’t me!”
“I’ve asked Eric to get the pram down out of the loft,” Harriet said to Lillian, patting the baby and ignoring Bessie. “Tomorrow I’ll bring it down and we can take the baby for a bit of fresh air.” She gave the baby one final kiss, handed the sweet-scented bundle back to her mother, and left.
Rhoda and Ned announced to the world that they were courting. She appeared at the youth club and sat watching with barely disguised boredom while he showed his prowess at table tennis and snooker. She refused to dance to records, insisting that it was much more fun to watch. At the pub she even sat through a game of darts, clapping when someone shouted double top, even though she knew little about what that meant and cared even less. She was quietly confident that, within a few months of their marrying, she would persuade Ned that the time was better spent with her.
Harriet still refused to consider having Lillian as a companion. One morning, as she was setting off for the factory, Charlotte pleaded with her to at least consider it.
“Honestly, Charlotte! What conversation would there be? She’d gawp at me, only understanding half of what I said, even if I spoke to her like a child of four! I need someone to talk to not talk at!”
Charlotte didn’t altogether agree, but she was determined to continue working at Russells. “Give it a try,” she pleaded. “Just a week or so to see how you get on. The baby will be with her,” she coaxed.
“There you are then!” Harriet said with satisfaction. “That’s what you want me to do, look after that child and give her a chance in life. You weren’t thinking of me at all!”
“No one could care for her better than you,” Charlotte said. “And think how much poor Lillian would benefit, living here with you.”
“You can forget the whole thing and please don’t mention it again. Your father will be staying and the household is large enough as it is. I won’t have time for Lillian and Danielle, not with your father and his children.”
“Mam, Dadda’s been looking at a cottage further along the river, past Bertha’s and Bessie’s.”
“Rubbish!” Harriet glared at her daughter. “Your father is staying here, at Mill House. He needs me to help him and how can I help if he moves all the way out there? Use your brains, girl!”
“You have to face it Mam,” Charlotte insisted. “Dadda, Miranda and the others, they’re moving out, and soon.”
“What if he does?” Harriet spoke bravely, although she was trembling inside. “There’s still you and Rhoda.”
“I think Rhoda will marry Ned. And as for me, well, perhaps I won’t marry now, but I’ll be out all day. You’ll be lonely Mam.”
“Stop fussing over things that might not happen. I’ve never known such a one for looking on the black side!”
One lunchtime, Charlotte cycled to Vi and Willie’s café.
Joe was there and as he was about to begin his beans on toast, he invited her to join him. “You’ll have to hurry, mind,” he warned. “They’ll be closing at one.”
She ate the beans on toast and accepted Joe’s invitation to have a cup of tea at the shop. Before they reached the Cycle and Motor Spares, they saw Willie, his white apron tucked up across his middle, followed by Vi, darting through the traffic, arguing, shouting instructions and eventually pushing their way into the crowded restaurant where they regularly ate.
Joe took his notice off the door and they went into the small kitchen. Joe filled the kettle; Charlotte set out the cups and all the time they were aware of each other so the very air crackled. Charlotte was at the back of the room looking out into the rain-misted yard, while the kettle began to sing and Joe came to stand behind her.
“When are you coming back to me, my pretty?”
“Joe, I’ve never really left you,” she whispered.
He turned her to face him and kissed her gently, with such tenderness that she felt tears seeping from under her eyelids and running down her cheeks.
“Oh, Joe, how I’ve missed you,” she said, as she curled into his welcoming arms.
“Not half as much as I’ve missed you, my pretty. Let’s put that ol’ notice back and spend ten minutes saying how much we love each other, shall we?”
The notice was up for an hour and at the end of it, Charlotte was still anxiously telling Joe he was not to consider himself second-best.
“Wasn’t it ever good between you and Danny?” he asked. “It won’t make any difference to the way I feel about you, nothing ever could. I’d just like to know.”
“He was different, like abreath of fresh air, and a lot of fun. He flattered me and made me feel special, but although I was happy in his company, something held me back.”
“He didn’t make your heart swell with happiness like you make mine?”
“Something held down the strings and stopped it singing.” She stared at him earnestly, wanting him to believe. “You were never long out of my thoughts and the attraction for Danny was a brief and foolish thing. Don’t think you’re second choice, Joe Llewellyn. That was how Dadda felt all through his marriage. It was never like that with me. I thought you’d left me for ever, and Danny seemed so set on marrying me I didn’t know how to tell him I didn’t love him and never could. I know it was cowardly. And all the time there was Mam demanding my time, and Dadda with his new family. My own feelings were pushed into the background. There was no time to think clearly about what I wanted – and –”
“It’s all right, my pretty… I’ve been here all the time, patiently waiting for you to remember where you belong.” He looked at her seriously and said firmly. “I know how hard it was for you to hurt Danny. I know how you hate defying the Dragon. But, don’t you see, I’m the one who cares for you. I should have been the one you couldn’t hurt. Don’t put anyone before us again, will you?”
“Sorry, Joe, I’ve been so weak.”
“I knew you’d eventually realise what Danny was like and I’ve put up with your mam hating me for so long that her opinion doesn’t matter. I’ve been waiting for you, willing you to come and terrified that you wouldn’t.”
“Why does Mam hate you so much?” she asked.
“You mean you don’t know?”
“You mean you do?”
“It’s to do with your father being second choice. It’s true, he really was. Your mam was engaged to my father, Joseph Llewellyn, local dance hall owner and wealthy entxepeneur – or at least until the police caught up with him! He came to her one day and told her he’d been seeing someone else and as she was expecting a child he had to marry her. He left your mother and married my mother, and they parted a few months after I was born. Your Mam, the Dragon, has always believed that if she hadn’t married on the rebound, and waited, he would have come back and married her. It’s my fault, see. My fault she married your father and not the man she really loved.”
“I never knew!” Charlotte gasped. “Oh poor Dadda!”
“Poor me,” Joe laughed. “She wishes I’d never been born!”
Rhoda and Ned announced their engagement soon after Joe and Charlotte got together agdn. Harriet could now clearly see the gap Charlotte had warned her about opening up.
“You’ll live here, of course,” she said to Ned when he and Rhoda showed her the engagement ring. Rhoda pouted prettily and looked at Ned.
“Ned wants us to live with his parents,” she said. “in their little house in town, so convenient for people to call in when they want to see Ned, you see.”
When Charlotte told Joe her sister had set a wedding date he said. “Don’t let her upstage us. Come away with me, let’s get married without telling a soul.”
“Joe, we couldn’t!” He looked at her quizzically and she added with a gasp, “Could we?”
“Why not? We’re both of an age where paternal permission isn’t necessary. What about it? We can go now and arrange it for three weeks’ time and tell no one.”
Two days later they had it all arranged. A quiet wedding at the registry office in Barry followed by a brief honeymoon in Tenby.
Mill House was filled with wedding talk, as Rhoda began her preparations. Quietly, Charlotte made hers. She carried clothes down into town and deposited them in Joe’s shop. Gradually the larder of the flat was filled, ration books surreptitiously prepared for the change of name and address. Extra items of equipment were added to the pieces Joe had already bought and a week before the date, everything was ready. Then, Eric moved his family out of Mill House and Harriet took to her bed and refused to eat.
“Joe, I don’t know what to do,” Charlotte said.
Stiff lipped, Joe asked, “What d’you want to do, my pretty?”
“I can’t leave her like this.”
“Can’t you?”
“Well, Rhoda isn’t much use.”
“Isn’t she?”
Charlotte looked at Joe and saw a steely brightness in his eyes. This was a test of her love and she was failing it.
“If I’m not there—” she began.
“If you’re not there?” questioned Joe warningly.
“If I’m not there – then Rhoda and Mam will have to cope, won’t they.”
“And they will, my lovely girl. They will.” Joe hugged her.
Two days before the secret wedding, Lillian pushed the pram given to her by Harriet up the steep hill to Mill House. A film of sweat covered her face and the baby was crying when Rhoda opened the door to her.
“Charlotte’s at work and Mam’s in bed,” Rhoda said, trying to close the door. But from upstairs Harriet had been disturbed by the child crying and had gone to the window, hoping it was Eric with young Matthew.
“Let her in, Rhoda. I’ll be down in a minute.” Surprised, Rhoda widened the door and watched as Lillian struggled to get the pram into the hall.
“Silly girl,” Harriet scolded. coming down the stairs in her dressing gown. “You should have left the pram outside.” She picked up the baby, and groaned. “Small wonder she’s crying, poor love, she’s dripping wet!” She soothed the baby and demanded a clean napkin. Lillian handed her a bag of fresh, clean clothes. While Rhoda kept well away, she efficiently removed Danielle’s soaking clothes and, after washing her carefully, re-dressed her, all the time explaining to Lillian how it should be done. The child was dressed cleanly but in clothes that were ill-fitting and well worn. “Is this the only dress she’s got to put on?” she asked. Lillian mumbled about her Mam trying to make one ready for Sunday and the Christening.
When Charlotte returned from work that evening Harriet said. “I’ll have to have that Lillian here, for a while at least. She and Bertha haven’t any idea of how to look after a child. It’s my Christian duty.”
“That’s wonderful Mam,” Charlotte said.
“It won’t be hard, with you here to help.”
Charlotte was on the point of telling her she wouldn’t be there after the following Saturday, but held the words back.
“I’ll go to the Christening, buy her a decent dress to wear. Bertha will have to make me Danielle’s God-mother,” Harriet went on. “I’ll see she’s brought up properly. Your father will help. He’ll be pleased I’ve taken charge,” she added. Charlotte guessed her mother still dreamed of a day when she and her father were together again.
On Saturday morning Harriet over-slept. Charlotte hadn’t called her. “What’s the matter with the girl! Gone to that damned factory again, I expect,” Harriet grumbled as she woke Rhoda.
There was a knock at the door before either of them were dressed and a sleepy Rhoda answered it. “Hello, Lillian, you’d better come in, we aren’t ready to go just yet, and didn’t my mother tell you to meet us in town?”
“Mam says to come here and stay till she comes. Gone out with Auntie Bessie she has. I’m to stay with you and Mrs Russell, for the day,” Lillian said nervously.
Harriet tried to find out where Bertha and Bessie had gone but Lillian seemed not to know. They all walked down the hill to town, Harriet pushing the pram. They passed Joe’s shop and there was a notice on the door. It read:
Gone for more than ten minutes!
Back a week Friday,
September 8th.
“Gone off with his Auntie again, I expect,” Harriet said. “I wonder if Charlotte knows?”
They completed their shopping and delivered Lillian back to her mother. Bertha was goggle-eyed and smelled of sherry. Bessie’s cottage was empty and silent. Puzzled at not knowing where Joe had gone, she wondered if he and Charlotte had argued again. That would explain her daughter’s non appearance at breakfast. She always went to the factory when she was upset.
At ten o’clock, when Charlotte had still not returned and there was no reply at either the shop or the factory, Harriet went to her room to see if her daughter had come in while they were out and gone to bed.
Charlotte’s clothes were gone.
On the pillow was a note.
Sorry Mam, but Joe and I were married this morning at eleven o’clock.
We will be away for a week, then you’ll find us at the flat – our marble hall.
I love you all,
Charlotte.
(That is, Mrs Joe Llewellyn.)
Bessie and Bertha were witnesses and Bessie’s only regret was that they didn’t marry on a Friday so she could spread the news as she made her collections.
Lillian moved into Mill House and to Harriet’s delight, settled in remarkably well. She was proud to be living in such a beautiful place and soon learned to care for it.
Harriet glowed in Lillian’s admiration and the approval she earned from the town. So far as she was able to be, Harriet was happy.
Joe walked through the beautiful historic town of Tenby in a dream. The sun shone, the sea was an unbelievable blue and worries about Bryn Melinau were far away.
“I don’t think I could be happier,” Charlotte said to Joe on the day they were to leave.
“Don’t you? I have a suggestion that might change your mind.”
She smiled at him. “What can you tell me that would make my life more complete?”
“I’ve had an offer for the business and, if you agree, I want to sell it.”
“Why, when it’s doing so well?”
“One reason is that I miss the kids coming in to have their bikes repaired. The new owers of my old shop don’t want to bother. I’d like to get a shed somewhere and go back to doing that. The other reason is that I’ve been talking to your father and he thinks you and I could work together at Russells Bookbinders and Restorers. He’ll help me get started and, only if you agree mind, I’d invest the money I get from the shop to buy some new equipment and—”
“Joe!”
He was unable to continue, stifled by Charlotte’s hug. “Oh Joe you were right, I could be happier. Joe and Charlotte Llewellyn, together, running their own business! It will be just wonderful.”
“You and me, Charlotte we’ll really make the place hum.”
Harriet was waiting for Charlotte and Joe at the station, a taxi purring beside her.
“Come on, you two,” she smiled. “Come up to Mill House, Eric and the others are there to welcome you home and wish you well.”
Bessie and Bertha were on the porch, the proud passers-on of the secret wedding plans. Eric and Miranda gave them both an affectionate hug. As they walked into the hallway, voices reached them and they realised to their surprise and delight that half the town was crammed into the house.
“Damn me,” Joe whispered later as they walked back down the hill to their ‘Marble Hall’, “I think your Mam has finally forgiven me.”