Nia Martin didn’t want to enter Temptations sweet shop ever again. She was highly embarrassed by her affair with Lewis Lewis becoming general knowledge. It had been going on for years, far longer than Dora realised. They had been so successful at keeping their secret, and now, because Barry had decided to close the shop early, everyone knew. It was so unfair, she thought childishly. They had harmed no one and there hadn’t been anything but misery once Barry had spread news of it. Her other son, Joseph, seemed to find it all amusing, but he was a man who found humour in everything. He hadn’t been upset, just surprised that they had been able to keep the secret for as long as they had.
Joseph continued to go to work in the gentlemen’s outfitters as if nothing had happened, neatly fielding any attempt to prise information from him or criticism of his mother.
Only to Caroline Griffiths did he speak of it, when he called into the wool shop to replace a button. Caroline and he were friends and he knew she wouldn’t want the details for gossip’s sake but would understand and sympathise.
It was Barry who kept the sweet shop open, doing his own work in his photography studio in the evenings. After another week had passed, Barry talked again to his mother and made her see that she must at least deal with the shop until other arrangements could be made.
“We’ll have to wait and see if Rhiannon’s mother will let her come. If she doesn’t, then I’ll sell up. I won’t make plans until Rhiannon tells us what she’s decided.”
She knew that the chances of Dora allowing her daughter to work for her, the woman her husband had been having an affair with, were so slim they could almost be discounted. But Nia meant to appease Barry for a little while, get him used to the idea that Temptations would very likely pass out of the family. Then she would be able to contact an estate agent and set the sale of the business in motion. She wanted out. There wasn’t a foreseeable end to people’s memories where something as juicy as this was concerned. She knew that for months and even years hence, there would be the occasional remark to wound her.
When Barry came home one day and told her Dora was willing for Rhiannon to work at Temptations Nia could hardly believe it. “I won’t go there, mind. She’ll have to manage on her own, but all right, she can run it until it can be sold,” she had said.
“You can’t let it go, Mam,” Barry pleaded.
“Think how you’ll regret it when this has all blown over in a few months time. You love the shop and you’re proud of it being a family business.”
“‘Katie’s Confections’ your grandmother called it when she began.”
“So proud she was when you took it over and changed the name to Temptations.”
“I know all that, Barry, love, but now is what matters and now I can’t face the smirks and false smiles.”
“Can’t you? Even for a few weeks? That’s all it’ll be. Once you’ve seen your customers a few times there’ll be nothing more to say and tongues will find another target.”
“You’ve asked Rhiannon to take over, I’ve agreed to that; so what are we having this conversation for?” Nia said irritably.
Barry knew that the best thing for his mother was for her to face the reality of her situation and stand up to the few spiteful people who would enjoy her humiliation, so he said, “Rhiannon’s mother is willing, and Rhiannon will be fine, but you can’t expect her to walk in there one Monday and run the place without some guidance. There’s the rationing for a start, ordering what you can sell and making sure you have sufficient coupons, it’s all very complicated, you must see that. Stay with her for a few weeks, then go on a holiday. Please, Mam, go in for a few days and take the first shower of bullets before she comes. It’s only fair. She’s only a kid.”
Nia considered this advice for a while as she thumbed idly through the phone book, putting a tick against the estate agents she intended to approach. It would be unfair to let Rhiannon face the embarrassment alone. Perhaps she would manage one day. One day of watching the furtive smiles of knowledge, waiting for the sarcasm and innuendo. Yes, she could face it for one day and that would be an end to it. It would be enough to please Barry. Then, she’d persuade him to run the place until she found a buyer.
“All right, Barry. If that mother of hers will really let her, tell Rhiannon to come at two o’clock on Tuesday. I’ll open up on Monday and perhaps most of the snide remarks will have been made by Tuesday dinnertime. You’re right, we don’t want her upset by regurgitated gossip any more than can be helped. None of this is her fault.”
“Great, Mam. Great.” Barry was pleased with his mother’s consideration for Rhiannon. “It demonstrates her basic goodness,” he said later to his elder brother Joseph. “I find it hard to understand how she could have been carrying on with Lewis Lewis all these years. In every other way she’s such an open and honest person,” he mused.
“You think Mam loving someone is dishonest?” Joseph smiled.
“If he’s someone else’s husband, yes, I do!”
“God ‘elp, Barry, you sound as pompous as old man Weston.”
“You think she was right or wrong to carry on with Lewis Lewis?”
“Right or wrong? I don’t know about that. But I think she was unlucky that you found them and not me. Don’t you?”
Lewis Lewis was utterly miserable. So far, since the breakup with Dora, neither his wife nor Nia Martin had been to see him. He had tried repeatedly to talk to them both but Dora insisted she didn’t want to talk about what had happened for at least a month, and Nia had laughed at his oft-repeated plea to live with her, Barry and Joseph.
Unaware that his daughter was about to start work in Temptations, he called at the shop early on the Monday morning, watching warily for a sign that someone was coming out of number seven Sophie Street, before pushing the door and darting inside.
“Lewis! What are you doing here? Dora passes around this time!” Nia warned.
“I bet she passes with her nose in the air, not looking in your direction,” he replied. Then, “Oh Nia, why won’t you talk to me? I’ve phoned, called at the house, I’ve written letters. How long are you going to keep this up, love? I miss you terribly. Why abandon me now, when I’m free?”
“Lewis, you and I have been lovers for a long, long time, and we’ve been happy with the arrangement, haven’t we? I live my life the way I want to, free of commitment and with a wonderful, secret love life, and you have Dora and the family; We’ve never wanted more, now have we?”
“But I’ve left her and I want to be with you,” he pleaded.
Nia shook her head. “No you don’t. You want to go back to Dora and Lewis-boy and Rhiannon and Viv. But they won’t have you, will they?”
They were standing in the shop, which was just open for business, and now Nia lifted the blind off its hook, holding it from rising, as a warning to Lewis that she was about to open the shop for customers. She was was nervous, wondering who would come to let it be known that they had heard the rumours. Gertie Thomas would be the first, she was sure of that, she could picture her sickly grin. Finding her talking to Lewis would start everything off again, full tilt.
She fussed unnecessarily with a display of lollipops, avoiding looking at him, wishing he would go. There would be enough said without him blatantly standing there only three doors away from his wife. What if Dora changed her routine and walked past? The last thing she wanted was a shouting match in her shop. Her fragile confidence wouldn’t cope with that. If Dora walked in and saw Lewis there she’d run back home and hide away forever!
“Shouldn’t you be working?” she hinted gently, her calm voice hiding the fact that she longed to push him out through the door.
“Can’t you see, love? It’s all happened for a purpose. You and I can be together at last. After all the years we’ve loved each other and stayed apart because of our sense of duty, it’s going to work out. Dreamed about it often we have. And discussed it.”
“Only in a fanciful way. We both knew it would never happen.”
“You don’t love me enough?”
“I love you, Lewis, of course I do. But, I love myself more. I have this shop, I have a house where I can be myself, enjoying the company of my sons”.
“Ah, yes. Joseph.”
“Joseph is a lovely boy. Working in a gentlemen’s outfitters wasn’t what I’d hoped for him, but he’s content.”
“Is there anything I can do for him?”
“There’s nothing you can do for any of us. I can cope. Barry’s right when he says it’ll be all fuss and feathers for a few days then it will settle.”
She touched him then, affectionately, both hands on his chest, smoothing the lapels of his overcoat like a mother seeing a child off to school. “Go now, before we’re seen. We’ll talk later. Best you don’t come here again, your Rhiannon might be starting work here tomorrow.”
“What? Dora would never allow it!”
“Well, Barry asked her and she’s coming to see me tomorrow afternoon.”
“What did Dora say?”
“I didn’t ask!” She opened the door, a hint she really wanted him to go and added, “If she comes or if someone else takes it over, I think I’ll go away for a while. Abroad somewhere. Perhaps Italy or France.”
“For how long?”
Nia shrugged. “A couple of weeks? A month? It’s about time I began to explore the world a bit.”
“You’d be content to leave Rhiannon in charge?”
“If she decides to work for me, yes. She’s capable, and Barry would be on hand to help if necessary.”
“That’s funny, did you know that our Viv is being asked to manage Weston’s while they go away. Odd isn’t it that two of them have been given similar responsibilities?”
“Fortunate really. They won’t have too much time to dwell on what’s happened.” She let the blind roll up and pulled the door wide open. He stepped out after a wan smile.
She watched as he walked away, his head bent dejectedly, and she smiled ruefully. His body would straighten and return to its upright, confident walk as soon as he was out of her sight. A bit of an actor, Lewis Lewis.
The silence of the empty shop surrounded her and she felt dreadfully alone. Trepidation filled her each time footsteps approached the corner as she waited for the first of the verbal aggression she expected to bear, but, being Monday, there was little trade. Rationing meant that most sweets were sold towards the weekend, when the small allowance was bought to take to the pictures or given as a treat to a child or a loved one.
Telling her mother that she wanted to work for Nia Martin had taken all of Rhiannon’s nerve and Dora’s response was far from what she expected. Silently she had rehearsed scenarios and practised arguments, but none of the imagined discussions had prepared for Dora’s simple response.
“It’s up to you, Rhiannon. You can’t let your father’s treatment of me interfere with your life!” It had been Dora’s intention to continue by telling Rhiannon that if she did accept the job with Nia Martin, she could no longer consider the house her home.
But Rhiannon didn’t allow her to say any more. She hugged her and thanked her, told her how marvellous she was, unaware of the stifled, unkind words her mother had been on the point of saying.
Dora still intended to speak her mind but something stopped her. Wouldn’t it put her more firmly in the right if she could be tolerant and understanding? Thinking of yet another chance to make Lewis grovel cheered her, and she sat, while Rhiannon talked about the changes taking a job would entail, with a gentle smile suffusing her face. Eat dirt, Lewis Lewis and I hope it chokes you! Dora thought as she smilingly listened to her daughter’s plans.
Gladys and Arfon Weston spoilt their granddaughters. And Joan and Megan repaid them by behaving in a superior manner as young ladies should, and by letting everyone know how wonderful their grandparents were. With Jack, Sian and Islwyn’s son, it was different. Sally had added Weston to her daughters’ christian names and Jack had been persuaded to take the name Weston too, so that it didn’t die with Arfon.
Apart from agreeing to accept the name, Jack refused to conform to the family’s demands. He had served in the army during the war and after demobilisation had trained as a teacher, a profession that Gladys considered beneath him. He wouldn’t accept their gifts, laughed at what he called their pretentiousness – and he voted Labour. He told his grandfather to his face that he was a “charming old windbag”. Arfon loved him dearly.
Gladys decided that Jack’s inability to conform could not be the fault of their daughter Sian; good manners were inbred. So it must be the influence of Islwyn. After all, Islwyn Heath had no background to speak of, his parents being of no real importance, and for Gladys, background meant everything. This family lunch to discuss the proposed holiday was a perfect example of Jack’s lack of loyalty.
Gathering the family together had been Arfon’s idea.
“Let’s invite them all here for Sunday lunch, dear,” Arfon had suggested, “and we’ll tell them our great surprise then.” But rationing meant that unless she fed them all on bread and salad, they would have to go out and eat.
“Don’t worry,” Arfon said, when she voiced her dismay, “I’ll get us a salmon. There’s a man in Pembroke who owes me a favour.” He didn’t dare tell his wife the man was Basil, one of the despised Griffithses.
So with salmon and salad and boiled potatoes on the menu and some illegal farm butter to add a touch of luxury to the potatoes, the party was definitely on.
It was early and Victoria had just brought Gladys her morning tea. Best to telephone now, before her son-in-law set off for business. Gladys never referred to his occupation as work.
Sally and Ryan accepted at once. They would, Sally said, be delighted to attend a family gathering, and their twins, Joan and Megan would also be there. Gladys settled herself more comfortably on her pillows, put aside her early morning tray and picked up the phone again. She held her breath as she dialled her other daughter.
“Sian, dear, your father and I have something to discuss with you. Will you all come to lunch on Sunday? You, Islwyn and Jack? Your father has promised us a salmon,” she added as further incentive.
“Any particular reason, Mummy?”
“Ah, you’ll have to wait until Sunday to find out.”
“How mysterious,” Sian laughed. “Of course Islwyn and I will come.”
Gladys crossed her fingers as she asked, “And Jack?”
“Mummy, you know what Jack is like. How can I answer for him? Grown man he is and probably has plans of his own. I’ll ask him mind, and you never know.”
“It is important, dear. I don’t often insist,” Gladys admonished. “See that he comes, to please me and your father, will you?”
“Mummy, I’ll do my best.”
Gladys replaced the phone on the table and glared at it. Arfon should have invited Sian and Islwyn, he was more firm. Jack had to be there, he needed a reminder of who he was. What had been an amusing individuality when Jack was a child was now an embarrassment.
He had been seen in the company of one of the Griffithses more than once and he would insist on hanging around with Viv Lewis, one of their employees. She gave an involuntary shudder: Playing darts! And with someone who worked for his father! With the best schooling and the best social connections, Jack seemed to choose the most unsavoury company and it really had to stop. This holiday was as much for his benefit as anyone and he had to be persuaded to come.
She rang the small bell imperiously. “Victoria,” she said, when the girl appeared, flushed from running up three flights of stairs to the bedroom, “squeeze me an orange and I’ll have that last egg, lightly boiled.”
The last egg and it’s mine by right, Victoria thought sadly as she hurried down to do her mistress’s bidding. It was seven weeks since she had tasted an egg.
The Weston’s luncheon party was not a success. Mainly because Gladys was angry. Jack didn’t turn up, even though his parents had promised he would. And, when she and Arfon announced their plans for a family holiday in France, there was a hushed, surprised, almost alarmed look on the faces staring up at them and not a single expression of delight.
“France you say?” Islwyn muttered. “Isn’t it going to be difficult, the language and everything?”
“With the education your girls have had I wouldn’t have thought a few words of French beyond them,” Arfon retorted. “And as for you, Islwyn, where’s your sense of adventure?”
“We’d love to come,” Joan and Megan, the twenty-year-old twins chorused. “Thank you Grandmother and Grandfather.”
Slightly mollified, Gladys and Arfon waited as voices murmured and faces relaxed as each couple discussed the idea. Acceptance came but so grudgingly that the whole idea was spoilt for Gladys, who had expected an outburst of delight at the exciting announcement. Only gradually did they all agree that, as it was only for a fortnight, they wouldn’t mind giving it a try.
“How reckless and pioneering of you all!” Gladys said sarcastically.
“Where’s Jack?” Arfon asked with a sigh.
“He’d accept in a second.”
“You might well ask,” snapped Gladys. “‘Where’s Jack’ seems to be an eternal question when we ask for the family to support us!”
Jack was with his friend, Viv Lewis. They had travelled on Jack’s motorbike to the river Teifi and were standing contentedly on the bank watching their lines being taken slowly down stream, then reeling in waiting for some unfortunate fish to be attracted to their bait. They had been there for three hours without a bite and as the evening chill began to rise through their feet and their legs Viv wound in the last of his line and removed the reel from the rod. “Come on Jack, I’ve had enough for today. Let’s go for a pint.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Why for heaven’s sake?”
“I’m frozen to the spot,” Jack laughed. Stiffly he packed away his tackle and threw the last of their bait into the river.
“And to think you gave up the chance of a salmon lunch for this,” Viv chuckled.
“A lunch with the family isn’t worth suffering, even with salmon and other illegal goodies. I wonder what they wanted this time?” he mused.
“To give you a lecture about last Saturday?” Viv chuckled.
“That’s what I suspected, that’s why I came fishing with you instead. All I did was go for a late night walk with a mate.”
“One of the Griffithses!”
“Basil’s all right. He taught me a lot!”
“He’s a Griffiths!”
“Yes, one of my grandmother’s favourite hates, the Griffithses.” He mimicked the voice of his grandmother and said, “That awful family who never do any work but are never short of money.”
“Perhaps it isn’t anything to do with them. Aren’t you curious?”
They had reached the bike and as they were packing their boxes and rods Jack frowned. “I am rather. Grandmother did seem a bit excited, as if the reason for the get-together wasn’t a telling off – for once – but something I might actually like.”
“We’ll go straight back if you like, not stop anywhere for food. They might all still be there and there could be some salmon left.”
“Okay, but you’re coming in with me. Right?”
They rode back in the cold November dark. Although there hadn’t been any rain, the day had been overcast and evening had closed in early. Lights at the front of the Weston’s impressive house suggested the family was still there and Jack hesitated, then parked his muddy bike near the front steps – something his grandmother disapproved of.
Victoria answered his knock and as he walked past her, followed rather hesitantly by Viv, he slipped an arm around her waist, gave her a squeeze and a peck on the cheek.
“Stop it!” Victoria whispered harshly.
“Go on with you, you love it. A bit of fun with the handsome grandson of the house, isn’t that the reason why you girls become maids?” he teased. It had become a joke between them.
But then, as Victoria darted towards the drawing room door, Viv leaned behind Jack and pinched her bottom and pointed at Jack. She turned and slapped Jack hard across the cheek.
With a red face, Jack, followed by Viv, entered the dining room to face the staring eyes of his family.
“I won’t put up with that, Mrs Weston,” Victoria said shrilly.
Viv was about to own up but Jack stopped him with a gesture.
“Sorry, Grandmother.” Jack rubbed his cheek and under cover of his hand, winked at his grandfather, who looked away, hiding a smile.
“Go into the kitchen, Victoria and I’ll come and talk to you presently.” Gladys glared at her grandson when the door had closed. “Really Jack. When will you learn to behave?”
“Sorry Grandmother,” Jack repeated. Then, “Am I too late for some salmon? And Viv here is starving and could eat a plateful.” The table had been cleared, only the demi-tasse coffee cups remained, and Jack sighed his disappointment. “I’ll go and ask Victoria to set a couple of trays.”
“You will stay right here!” Gladys snapped. “I will go and talk to Victoria. You will come to the kitchen in five minutes and apologise.” She pointed at the marquetry wall clock with a quivering finger and left the room.
Viv and Jack sat in the chairs ranged along the wall and waited for the food to arrive.
“What’s the reason for this shindig then?” Jack asked. “Am I here for a telling off again? Or is it someone else’s turn?”
“I think we’ll wait for your grandmother to return, Jack,” Arfon said. “She has a surprise for you.”
When Gladys made her announcement, Jack smiled with delight and immediately asked, “Can I bring a friend?”
“Er, which friend?” Gladys asked suspiciously, thinking of the dreaded Basil Griffiths, or worse. Jack certainly had a nerve to ask this of her. “We thought of being just the family, didn’t we Arfon, dear?”
“Viv here. I’d have a far better time if Viv came with us. Outnumbered by women we are in this family, aren’t we Grandfather? Viv would even it up a bit.”
Highly embarrassed, Viv shook his head and frowned. “Don’t be daft, Jack. Of course I couldn’t come. Me going to France? Mam would have a fit if I asked for the money for a holiday and I certainly don’t have enough.”
“If Grandmother is renting a house what will there be to pay? Bring a toothbrush and a comb and we’ll provide the rest, eh, Grandmother?”
It was a very tight-lipped Gladys who agreed. After all, with the young man in the room with them, manners forbade her to say no. “But,” she hissed in Arfon’s ear, “I’ll have a strong word to say to that young Jack. Putting me on the spot like that. Imagine what people will think of us, taking one of the workmen on holiday as if he were a friend!” Then realisation glowed on her face, lit up her bright blue eyes and she gave a regretful smile. “Jack dear. We can’t take your friend. He will be required to manage business or we simply can’t go.”
Viv gave a huge sigh of relief. Then he started with shock. “Me? Manage the business for two weeks?”
“Don’t worry Viv, things are fairly quiet about now,” said Arfon.
“But I don’t know anything about management.” Viv began to think France, even with the formidable Gladys Weston, was preferable. “I could make a real mess of things.”
“Rubbish, boy,” Arfon counted off on his fingers, saying, “No credit, not for anyone except those already approved and with a monthly account, you know the rule. Two, money to the bank every evening without fail. Three, daily books to be kept up to date. Four, if there’s a run on anything as people start to tidy up their houses for Christmas you must reorder. You know the wholesalers and I’ll leave all the addresses you’ll need. Just remember those four things and try not to burn the place down and that will satisfy me.”
“Once is enough, eh Grandfather?” Jack laughed. He turned to explain to Viv that years before, the whole place had been lost in a terrible fire.
“That won’t happen again, I’ve taken every precaution,” Arfon said, glaring at his grandson. “No need for you to worry about anything as dramatic as a fire. Just do your job as efficiently as usual and you’ll have no problems.”
“Right, then,” Viv gulped. “Right then.”
Nia Martin didn’t expect to see Lewis Lewis for a while now that he knew his daughter was about to start work in the shop. During the years the affair had been going on, their meetings had been erratic but it had been rare for a week to pass without a few hours spent together. Two weeks apart had been the longest time ever.
She had often thought about how she would cope now that her affair was public knowledge. The reality, however, was worse than she could ever have imagined. She greeted each customer that first week wondering whether they knew and were laughing at her. Forty-eight and being caught out like an immature schoolgirl with her first spotty paramour! It was so ridiculous. So undignified.
Although only a few made some sarcastic reference to the incident or attempted a humorous comment, it was impossible for Nia not to believe that every serious face was held in check only until they closed the door before bursting into malicious laughter. It was Friday and the first humiliating week was almost over. Barry was coming in for her to leave early, keeping up a pattern that, in the past, had often included Lewis.
She wondered if it had been as bad for Lewis and suspected not. The man is considered a bit of a lad, whereas the woman was burdened with the guilt. She had heard from those who delighted in adding to her misery that Dora had thrown him out and that he was lodging in a small bedroom in The Firs boarding house, from where he pleaded with his wife to be allowed to return. She didn’t add to speculation by telling people he had pleaded with her too. If she did there would be a constant discussion on who would give in to his pleading first!
“They always choose the wife in the end, though, don’t they?” was the comment of more than one of her supposed friends. She hoped they were right!
Barry didn’t come at four but she went home anyway. She glanced towards the Lewises’ front door as she closed the shop. The need to see Lewis and feel his arms around her suddenly enveloped her. She pushed the sensation from her. She didn’t need Lewis or anyone else to support her, she told herself. She coped alone. But loneliness and the lack of those comforting arms refused to completely fade as she realised for the first time her role was second best. Dora had the best of it. For the first time since the affair began, more than twenty years before, she felt used and unclean.
She tried to tell herself she hated Lewis. She would use this opportunity to end it. Cliches such as: ‘Given him the best years of my life’ and ‘What a fool to have drifted for so long’, ran through her mind to add to a sudden and strong determination to tell him goodbye. In those first seconds of decision she felt a light-headed relief. It was over and she was free. Then gloom resettled in a shower of broken memories.
Nia had never wanted to remarry, and loving Lewis had been a perfect way to enjoy the best of both worlds. She had Barry and Joseph to care for, Lewis to give her love and affection to remind her she was still an attractive woman, and the carefree life of a reasonably wealthy single woman, with no emotional see-saws to distress and distract her from the pleasures she enjoyed: No, she told herself, frowning with the intensity of her determination, Nia Martin was capable of coping alone, she no longer needed Lewis for support.
It was a shock therefore to bump into him as she locked the door and began to move away.
“Lewis!” she gasped. “I thought we’d decided to stay away from each other for a while.” Her voice wavered with her fading resolution as she added, “Go away, it’s best you go. Dammit, your wife is only three doors away!”
“I couldn’t stay away any longer, love. The past days have been hell. Open the shop again and let’s go inside.”
Fumbling with the keys, sensing Gertie Thomas’s eyes taking it all in, telling herself it was over and she hated him, wanting him, loving him, she finally managed to reopen the shop door and, leaving the light off, they stepped inside. At once Lewis took her in his arms and kissed her hungrily.
It was an hour later when the pair left, furtively, separately. They had hardly spoken apart from words of love. Jangled and almost tearful with the power of the emotional meeting in the dark shop, Nia knew she couldn’t go straight home. Barry and Joseph would find something to eat and go out for the evening. Barry to the shabby building where he was gradually building a photography business, and Joseph, probably to the pictures with one of his friends – perhaps even one of Lewis’s sons! Oh, it was all so crazy. The miracle was that this tangle hadn’t come to light years before.
She went to the Blue Bird café and ordered a sandwich, a couple of cakes and a pot of tea. She ate the sandwich without tasting it and ignored the cakes. After a while she ordered more tea. The bright lights inside made it impossible to see the street. Cut off from the world, she felt like staying beside that comfortingly steamy window all night.
Viv Lewis was late finishing work that Friday night. Old man Arfon had been at the stores all day, pointing out things he needed to know about running the business during the time the Weston Family were in France. He was tired, his brain felt swollen and heavy, as if his skull was no longer large enough to contain it. Instead of going home he walked through the main road and went into a café for a cup of tea. Seeing Nia Martin, he hesitated, half in and half out of the door. It was so embarrassing, her being his father’s – bit of fluff.
“You can come in, Viv, I don’t bite,” Nia said sharply.
“No, of course. Can I sit at your table, Mrs Martin?”
Viv was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t slight the woman by ignoring her, or even pass her table without sitting there. Red in the face, feeling that every eye was on him, he asked weakly if he could buy her a cake.
She smiled her thanks and offered him those she had bought. Nervously chomping his way through dry rock cakes, sweating with embarrassment, he told her why he was late. Explaining about the Weston Family going to France and leaving him in charge, he couldn’t resist boasting about the heavy responsibility he was about to undertake.
She didn’t tell him she’d already heard the news from his father.
“This is a wonderful opportunity to show what you’re made of, Viv. I’m sure the experience will be valuable.”
“I’ll be dealing with the banking, and the day-books, as well as ordering fresh stock when necessary, Mrs Martin. I’m quite excited about it, really.”
“And a bit scared?” she asked.
“Well, all right, a bit,” he admitted.
“Although it isn’t the same business, I’ve been running my business by myself for about twenty years, Viv. If you think I can help with a problem, please let me know. I’d be happy to help.”
“Thanks. Mam and Dad say they’ll sort me out if – sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned them. Sorry Mrs Martin.”
Nia smiled and touched his hand lightly. “I think you’ll manage perfectly well without needing any of us.”
“Thank you Mrs Martin.”
“Talking about managing, what d’you think of Rhiannon running Temptations for me? Like the Westons, I feel the need to get away. A long break somewhere where no one knows me is what I want.”
“Give a chance for memories to fade, is it?”
“Give time for people to forget, and me time to lick my wounds.”
Blushing furiously, sweat popping out on his forehead, Viv said, “But don’t stay away, Mrs Martin. You can’t let gossip drive you from your home.”
Nia stood to leave. “You’re right. Thank you. I promise I won’t.”
It took a great deal of preparation for Rhiannon to begin working in Temptations. Organising the new routine meant persuading others to contribute to the running of the house. Eleri had been used to having a meal prepared. She escaped from much of the housework too, apart from clearing up after the evening meal and setting the table for breakfast.
“I’ll get the dinner on Sundays and Mondays,” she offered. “It’s about time I began to learn anyway, I’ve leaned on you far too long.”
“Oh no! Please, no!” Lewis-boy teased. “My delicate stomach is about to be practised on! It’s enough to make a man leave home!” He hugged his wife to take the sting from his teasing and winked at Rhiannon. “You’ll have to watch out, mind. My wife might soon be teaching you a thing or two. Clever girl my Eleri. Seriously, Rhiannon, I’ll help when I can. But I do work long hours.”
With Viv promising to take over the job Lewis-boy was supposed to do and keep the house supplied with chopped firewood and replenish the coal scuttles each evening, Rhiannon thought that the house would continue to run without much confusion. Mam was erratic with her offers of help. She meant well but would often be too exhausted to carry out her promises. It will be Eleri who supports me, Rhiannon decided. She silently thanked her lucky stars that Lewis-boy had married such a kindly, gentle girl. With two brothers, it was wonderful to have a sister-in-law who was as close as a sister.