Lucy collapsed onto the desk in a distressed state. ‘I’m stupid and vain,’ she wailed at Meriel when the news of George’s offer had sunk in. ‘I thought Teifion was a friend and all the time he was spying for his father. Oh, Meriel, I’ve ruined everything. I really thought he helped because he liked me. How stupid is that?’
‘Come on, we’re going home,’ Meriel said, her eyes blazing with anger and a little fear. Could he persuade them to sell? He was capable of making things so difficult they would be glad to. Lies and rumours, leaking secrets, they had been his weapons in the past, and could be again. With that determined expression he so often wore on his face he could threaten to buy them, or destroy them. Destroying them might take a bit longer but would cost him nothing.
In a spate of activity they closed the office, pushing papers carelessly into drawers and filing cabinets, ignoring the ringing of the phone as they locked the door behind them. Whoever it was could wait. They had to get out of the place, escape to the safety of Badgers Brook and think what to do.
Lucy drove back to the lane and they let themselves into the house in silence. Meriel began preparing their meal and Lucy stood outside, staring at nothing, her mind aching with the pain and humiliation of knowing she had let Meriel down. What was wrong with her that she believed men could like her for herself? She had believed Gerald loved her and twice he had let her down. She felt tears fill her eyes as she remembered the flattery of him asking for a second chance. His recent disappearance was proof enough of his lack of love. Now she had encouraged Teifion – against Meriel’s instincts – to work beside her, allowed him to gather information which he had passed on to his father.
Meriel called her from the doorway. ‘Come and eat, Lucy, then we’ll decide what to do. Dadda will help. Don’t worry,’ she said as Lucy still didn’t move, ‘we aren’t a company suitable for a takeover, that’s for the big league. All George can do is spread rumours that we’re in a difficult situation financially and hope the public will do the rest. We can make sure people know the truth. Come on, let’s eat, then drive to Barry and talk to Dadda.’
‘Best I stay here,’ Lucy said, turning to go inside. ‘I’m the cause of this.’
‘Rubbish. What could Teifion have told his father that he couldn’t have found out easily some other way?’
‘Ironic isn’t it, us trying to convince Gerald I was being sacked? I didn't dream it would happen.’
‘Lucy, you’re talking rubbish. We’re partners and if there’s a problem – and we don’t know that there is – then we’ll deal with it together.’
They ate in the garden, sitting in the sun and relaxing in its warmth. As they were about to get up and set off to talk to Walter and Lynne, they had a visitor. Teifion came around the corner, bent almost double in his haste, a hand held up to stop them talking.
‘Please, let me talk first,’ he pleaded. ‘I heard about Dad’s offer at five o’clock and tried to phone you.’
‘Go away, Teifion.’ Lucy said, rising from her chair.
‘I know you’re upset and you believe the worst, but I have never discussed Evans and Calloway business with my father. It’s important that you believe that. I helped because I really enjoyed the business for the first time in my life, felt the excitement of a prospect and the thrills when things went well.’
‘Just go,’ Meriel said, with an exaggerated sigh.
Ignoring her, he went on, ‘That auction was the most exciting day and I felt a part of it. A part of it! I’ve never felt that before. The business is called Ace, it was always referred to as George Dexter and Son, but it belonged to Dad, and I never belonged. Never.’ He paused for breath and they stared at him unable to reply.
He flopped down in a garden chair, his eyes bright, his face flushed with emotion. ‘Dad told me he’ll close you down once he’s bought you out. I told him I’d never speak to him again if he tried to.’
Meriel and Lucy exchanged glances and Meriel handed him a glass of home-made lemonade. ‘Are you telling us the truth?’ she asked coldly.
‘I am. Making the break and leaving Dad’s business was scary but turned out to be the best thing I ever did. I enjoy working with Betty Connors at the Ship and Compass. Using my spare time to help you, using my hard-won experience in an estate agency, I’ve enjoyed it for the first time. It has opened my eyes to a better future.’
‘Like me, Teifion, you’re an only child and you have a moral duty to support your father.’
‘I used to think so but not now.’
‘So you think working in a pub is what you were intended to do?’ Meriel asked.
‘Or take over our business and earn a pat on the head from your father?’ Lucy added cynically.
He stood up and walked towards her. ‘Lucy, I’d never hurt you. I hoped we’d become friends, something more than friends now you’ve given that Gerald creep the heave-ho.’
‘I didn’t. He left me,’ Lucy said honestly.
‘More fool him. Lucy, please believe I didn’t cheat on you and Meriel. It’s important that you believe me.’
Without another word Meriel took out the page which had been marked in several places with a cross. ‘Can you tell us what these crosses mean? Are they points of interest to pass on to your father?’
From his inside pocket he took out a sheet of paper which he handed to her. She read it quickly, it was a brief letter asking the editor of their local newspaper to read and consider the enclosed article. She shook the solitary page and, still in silence, quirked an enquiring eyebrow as she passed it to Lucy.
‘I’ve been preparing a piece about you two. Young women who had started a business usually run by men, and making a success of it. I’m not completely satisfied with it yet, and the crosses on that report were marking the words in hundreds to give me an idea of the length I needed. Nothing more sinister, I promise. I didn’t intend sending it until you two approved,’ he added.
‘Sorry,’ Lucy said. ‘It was instinctive to blame you for your father’s behaviour. I was wrong.’ Her apology was echoed by Meriel and he was invited to stay.
‘Anyone home?’ a voice called and Walter and Lynne came around the corner of the house.
‘Perhaps I’d better go,’ Teifion said.
‘If you’re afraid of more questions, then yes, you should hurry away before they start!’ Lucy said, as Meriel went across to meet her parents. Teifion glared at her with some defiance, and sat down.
When explanations were over and Walter told them how he had heard George’s latest move from a friend, Lucy said, ‘Teifion has been working with us but insists he knew nothing about this.’
‘He’s probably right. George has been telling people that the business is insolvent and about to collapse and he’s buying it as a surprise for his son.’
They decided on an increase in their advertising and Walter applauded Teifion’s idea of writing an article about the enterprising friends and their new and thriving business. ‘A successful business run by two beautiful young women is news and worthy of a mention. He took Lynne’s hand and added, ‘We’re so very proud of you, love.’
An unbidden thought entered Meriel’s mind and she wondered whether her real mother would be proud of her too. Although she had told her parents she had abandoned hope of finding her mother, the need to know and her curiosity wouldn’t go away.
Walter and Lynne left about nine o’clock, leaving three more relaxed people still sitting in the garden. Teifion left soon after and when Meriel and Lucy finally went to bed the shock had eased from them, the house made its small comforting sounds as night settled around them, and they slept.
Leo still clung to the curiosity about Meriel’s family too although he tried to keep his thoughts about them to himself. He walked past a book shop specializing in religious literature one morning and saw William Roberts-Price inside, serving a young woman. He went in and began to say hello but the man looked up and at once shuffled back out of sight.
When another assistant appeared Leo asked, ‘Was that Mr Roberts-Price? I’d like a word, please.’
‘I’m sorry, he has had to go out on an errand. Can you try later?’
Leo tried twice more but each time he was told that the man was unavailable. He drove to the cottage near the church where the family lived and knocked the door, unsure what he was going to say, but hoping to have an explanation of the man’s reluctance to speak to him. The door was opened by a stranger who told him the family had moved away and he didn’t have a forwarding address.
Later that week he called into a café for a cup of tea and saw the young woman from the book shop. He involved her in conversation and once the introductory politenesses were over he asked about her boss. ‘I don’t think he likes me,’ Leo said conspiratorially. ‘I must represent something he doesn’t approve of.’
‘I have to admit he doesn’t approve of very much at all,’ she confided, adding, ‘it wouldn’t have been personal, he keeps very much to himself. You could try talking to his daughter, she’s more chatty, not that that’s very difficult,’ she added with a laugh. ‘She works in Woolworth’s on the record counter. She loves serving young people and enjoys modern music and the latest comedy records but she isn’t allowed to buy any. Her father won’t allow them to have a wireless let alone a gramophone! Can you believe that? He doesn’t approve of her working there either, but at least she shows some spirit and defies him.’
‘Good on her,’ he said. He stood to leave and thanked the girl for trying to help. When he tried the record counter Miss Price – without the Roberts – was at lunch.
Putting aside any worries about the time he was wasting, he went back later on but the girl wasn’t there. A few days later, when he was calling in the area he again asked for Miss Price but this time he was told she had left and the family had moved away.
As he walked away, Leo wondered if the family were still in the area. The daughter had left her job on the record counter and the family no longer lived in Church Cottage. Everything seemed to suggest that William Roberts-Price insisted on complete obedience. He felt a brief sympathy for the daughter who had tried to make up her own mind. He wondered where she was and what she was doing. Perhaps the girl from the book shop could once again help?
Teifion was worried about what his father might do to harm the business of Meriel and Lucy. He didn’t go to see him, having decided that any contact might be misconstrued and he was afraid Lucy would think the worst. When he saw his father and Frieda coming into the bar the following evening he walked to the far end, hoping Betty would serve them, but he couldn’t escape.
‘A pint of your best, please, Teifion, and a sherry for Frieda.’
Teifion served the order without a word and avoided looking into his father’s eyes. He took the money he offered, put the change in front of him and moved to serve someone else. George smiled and pushed the change towards him. ‘Keep the change, barman, I expect you can do with it.’
Teifion pushed it back to his father so fiercely it fell to the floor. Neither made any attempt to collect it.
‘You’d better come and pack up the rest of your clothes and things,’ Frieda said. ‘We’re having some rooms decorated and we need to clear as much as we can.’ She touched his hand lightly and added, ‘Tomorrow afternoon when you close after the lunch session. All right?’
‘All right,’ he said, glancing at his father, who was smiling at some unspoken joke. He knew it wasn’t humour to be shared, he was the butt of his father’s cynical amusement. His face reddened as he felt the embarrassment he’d so often caused him in the past.
When they closed the pub at two o’clock the next day, he went to the office and told Lucy where he was going and why.
‘I quite understand.’
‘Does that mean you believe me?’
‘I don’t think your father needs your help to harm us. He can manage well enough on his own.’
‘I’ll come back as soon as I’ve finished,’ he promised.
He walked past his father’s office and tried to see whether his father was there but the July sun was bright and the reflection restricted his view. He hoped George would not be at home.
There were only two hours before he needed to be back at the Ship but he dawdled as he went to the house he still called home, stopping to look over a farm gate, to count trees and lamp posts and chimney pots. Anything to delay the visit in which he might have to face his father.
Frieda saw him coming and opened the door. She led him straight into the living room where piles of clothes covered the chairs and a couple of boxes were open revealing many of his possessions, some forgotten since childhood.
‘Frieda! What am I supposed to do with all this? I’ve only a small room at the Ship.’
She shrugged. ‘Your father asked me to collect it all up and ask you to get rid of it. We’re refurbishing two of the rooms and what was once your bedroom is one of them.’
‘Put it all in the shed. I can’t sort it out now. I’ll need to have a few hours to go through it all and decide where I can dispose of it. I have to be back in an hour.’
‘Then you should have come earlier, shouldn’t you?’ George said from the doorway.
‘Oh, throw it all away!’ Teifion said, startled by George’s sudden appearance. ‘I don’t want anything from you, not even my clothes. I’ll manage on what I took with me.’
‘Cellarman, barman, you won’t need much in the way of smart clothes.’
‘That’s right. What does it matter what I wear? Who looks at a cellarman?’
‘Come on, boy, don’t you think you’ve sulked long enough? We want you to come home.’
‘I’m happier where I am.’ He looked properly at his father for the first time and he felt a shock of alarm. The unusual pallor around the eyes made them look deepset and large. The high spots of colour on the cheeks and the way the skin on his face had become loose and lined had aged him. Was he ill? Was that the reason for asking him to come back? Did he have a real need for him? George’s words seemed to confirm his concerned thoughts.
‘Are you all right, Dad?’
‘Are you pretending to care?’
‘I just thought that if you aren’t well – it might be why you want me back.’
‘The truth is, son, I’m thinking about retiring. Frieda and I want to move down to Bournemouth, somewhere pleasant and warm. The business was always intended to be yours. Come home and take over. I’ll persuade Meriel Evans to sell her paltry attempt to ruin it and you can have Lucy working for you. Wouldn’t that make you happy?’
For a moment his heart leapt with excitement, but he showed no joy. He calmly repeated his last words. ‘I’m happier where I am.’
‘Evans and Calloway are losing their reputation, you know. Quick to rise and quicker to fall, that’s the fate of amateurs.’
‘If that is true then it’s your doing. And how can you call Meriel an amateur?’
‘What else can we call Lucy?’
‘She’s keen and a fast learner.’
‘Then ask her to come and work here, for you.’
‘You’re really going to leave?’
‘I said so, didn’t I?’
‘When?’
‘Soon, probably in the spring.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
George walked across to the table and picked up a leaflet. ‘We’re acting for that Roberts-Price family, you know the ones who sold their house through Evans and Calloway? Odd that they aren’t going through them to buy, isn’t it? Could it mean they aren’t as good as they suppose?’
‘I wouldn’t read anything into what that man does.’
‘Know them well, do you?’
‘Not really, I thought for a while they were—’
George tilted his head curiously and waited. Teifion saw no reason to prevaricate. After all, the story had been disproved. ‘For a time I thought they might be Meriel’s real parents. Since you told everyone she was adopted and ruined her peace of mind, I tried to find her real mother but I failed.
‘I approached the family but they are nothing to do with Meriel, thank goodness. She thought it might make it easier to bear once she knew where she came from, why her mother didn’t keep her. You really shouldn’t have done that, Dad. It was cruel.’
‘What made you think it was the Roberts-Price couple? From what I know of them they’re hardly the type to abandon a child.’
‘I was wrong and before you ask, I haven’t been able to discover anything about her adoption. If I had, you’d be the last one I’d tell. You almost destroyed her telling everyone the truth.’
George shook his head and tutted slowly. Then he smiled and patted his son’s shoulder as though amused at the rantings of a child. ‘Oh, how I’ve missed you. Come home. Please, Teifion. Come back and make us laugh again. The place isn’t the same without you, is it, Frieda?’
The words seemed condescending to Teifion, as though he were stupid, good for a laugh, and unworldly and incapable of surviving outside his father’s care. He stood up and kicked at the boxes holding his childhood memories and went out. ‘If you don’t want the business sell it, and leave Meriel and Lucy alone!’ he shouted back.
George didn’t call after him. He looked at Frieda thoughtfully. ‘Now I wonder whether it would be worth visiting the Roberts-Price family? Letting them presume I know more than I actually do is a ploy that often works.’
‘This is all very boring, George. I agreed to stay with you but on certain conditions, remember, and one of them is forgetting this need for revenge against Meriel and Lucy.’
‘Come on, Frieda, I’ve agreed to our moving, haven’t I? Can’t I have a little fun before we do?’
‘Why d’you hate her so much? It’s a side of you I don’t like at all.’
‘I don’t hate Meriel, it’s her father who always gets in my way.’
Teifion was filled with doubts. Mistrusting his father was a habit, but perhaps this time he really did need help. He certainly looked unwell but he doubted his promise that retirement was imminent. George Dexter, Estate Agent and Auctioneer, would always be his life and if he took over, his father would never be able to stay away. He’d be unable to refrain from interfering and telling him how hopeless he was, criticizing him, humiliating him until the day he died.
There was no one to talk to. He could hardly discuss taking on a rival business with Lucy, and Betty would probably remind him that his loyalty lay with his father. Perhaps Leo might offer a solution? He was far enough away from the situation to give an honest opinion.
Back at the Ship and Compass after he dealt with the routine tasks and they had eaten, a few minutes before the doors opened for the evening, he wrote a short note to Leo, marking it private and addressing it care of Walter’s office.
Gerald was unhappy. He looked at his grease-stained hands, at the blackness under his fingernails, and pulled a face. The oilcan on the bench seemed like a symbol of his misery, he picked it up and threw it against the wall where it clanged and clattered before landing in the corner on a pile of spare parts.
Life was definitely passing him by. It seemed to have happened in a matter of weeks. There he was, playing with the idea of marrying Lucy, giving up on the distasteful occupation his father had planned for him and dreaming of a life married to a wealthy woman.
He now knew he’d been misinformed about Lucy leaving. He didn’t understand why she’d lied and presumed it was one of her jokes. Everyone knew the business was growing and that Lucy’s future was secure. But if they were married, he would be able to look after her, support her and offer help when she needed it. She wouldn’t be alone when problems threatened. She was so remarkable, walking away from all she knew, taking on a new challenge and making a success of it. A feeling of pride swelled in his chest.
He sighed contentedly as he thought about Lucy, not as a way out of a future he couldn’t face, but as a woman he desired. He recognized with some surprise his need to protect her and care for her. Could it be love? he mused with growing excitement. He certainly anticipated meeting her with more delight than before. And he wanted to do things for her, take her presents. The perfume was still in his drawer at home and he began to imagine a scene in which she fell into his arms with delight at his generosity. He was smiling when he bumped into his father as he went through the garage door into the workshop. His father was not.
‘Have you finished the service on the B.S.A.?’
Gerald looked up in surprise hearing the anger in his father’s voice. ‘Well no, actually. I’ve been thinking about how we can expand. I was about to go through the order book to see how many cars are on order.’
‘I can tell you that,’ his father snapped. ‘Exactly none. I don’t want the business of new cars, I repair and service motorbikes. That is what we do here.’
‘But I arranged to supply a new Morris to Mr Gorman.’
‘I unarranged it! I passed the order on to the place in Cardiff where they’re better suited to deal with such things.’ As Gerald took a deep breath to complain, he went on, ‘And before you say anything more, let me tell you something. I am tired of carrying you. I’ve paid your wages all these years and you’ve given nothing back. You don’t even pretend to be interested. Well, it’s over. I don’t intend to carry you any longer. Get stuck in and help with the work that’s waiting, or get out. Right out. Understand? I’ve had enough.’ Gerald’s mouth opened and closed like a stranded fish. ‘And, before you say anything, your mother agrees with me. Right?’
Throwing down a rag with which he had been about to clean the work bench, he hurried out, his face like thunder. Gerald turned on his heel to follow his progress but in contrast to his father, he was smiling. So he was sacked. What a good opportunity for a fresh start. He reached for the tin of cleaning jelly, washed his hands meticulously, symbolically removing the remnants of the work from his skin, then went to change out of the hated overalls and heavy boots.
The showrooms opening up in every town, selling both second-hand cars and new models, offered him hope. After all, he had the perfect credentials. Whether he liked it or not, he was a trained mechanic, and he had the tall, broad-shouldered figure that appealed to the ladies and the easy conversation and upper-class accent, perfected over the years, that men found reassuring. Confidence and good looks, that’s what a salesman needed and – as long as he was well away from his father’s disapproval – he had plenty of both.
While his father and mother were discussing what had been said, he made a phone call. He spoke well and his comments about his abilities and enthusiasm impressed. An interview was arranged for later that day. Dressed in his newest suit, highly-polished shoes and an immaculate shirt and tie, he went into the yard.
He stood beside the firm’s van and shook his head. It wasn’t the vehicle to be seen in, not if he wanted to be taken seriously. On the pavement he hesitated, considering bus or train, and inventing reasons to explain why he hadn’t arrived in the sports car he had told the interviewer he owned. George Dexter drove past and stopped.
‘Any luck with a new career, Gerald?’ he called, exaggerating the accent on the name.
Gerald walked across. ‘I’m going into Cardiff. There’s a vacancy for a salesman at one of the new car showrooms. Selling high-class vehicles will suit me better than working with Dad, repairing bikes. But how can I arrive in that thing?’ He gestured towards the van.
‘Get in, I’ll take you,’ George said, pushing open the passenger door of his MG. He drove out of town and once they were on the road to Cardiff he stopped and said, ‘Better still, you can drive.’
Cautiously, determined not to damage the car, Gerald took the wheel. It was a dream to drive and unable to resist, he picked up speed on the quiet stretches and it was with regret that he slowed when they approached the town. He parked at the side of the road where there was a bus stop.
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I enjoyed that.’
‘Go on, drive the rest of the way, impress them. I’ll be a friend who begged a ride in your smart two-seater.’
Glowing with pride, Gerald drove into the forecourt and leaped out. He straightened his tie in a nervous gesture then walked across to the office. This was the moment to impress and he determined to make them aware of how much they needed him, not how much he wanted the job. Casual and confident, those were his key words.
He was offered the job and accepted with ill-concealed amazement. The first time in his life he had applied for a vacancy and he got it. His first thought was how much he would enjoy telling his father, the second was telling Lucy.
Driving home beside George they talked about his success, laughing and joking like conspirators. ‘Thanks, Mr Dexter,’ Gerald said seriously. ‘Driving up in this fabulous car definitely helped.’
‘It probably gave you a good start. Look successful and you’re halfway there,’ George said.
The confidentiality of their unplanned afternoon made Gerald relax and talk of many things. He had never had anyone to confide in before and George was like a newly discovered friend. He told him about his dread of loneliness. ‘To reach middle and old age alone must be the worst thing. I’d rather marry someone in haste than end up on my own. I’m past thirty and time is running out.’
‘And there’s no one you care for? What about Lucy Calloway?’
The success of the interview had made his earlier dreams of loving Lucy fade a little. Now he was going to be a salesman and earn lots of money, her attractions no longer fed his picture of a golden future. ‘I don’t think I’ve found the right woman yet,’ he said. ‘I’m fond of Lucy, very fond. But she won’t fit the image I have of how my future will evolve. I need a wife who will help me build my reputation. Someone who can stand by my side and mix confidently with the best.’
George was silent for a moment then said harshly, ‘Whether you realize it or not, what you need is someone you love and who loves you. There is no substitute for that.’
‘Really, Mr Dexter. I wouldn’t have put you down as a romantic.’
‘Call it what you will, I can tell you my life has never been happy despite my success. I was young and foolish and I discarded the one love of my life. I married my first wife because her father offered me the money to start my business. My love was thrown away on the altar of greed. The man who married her is showered by my hatred every time we meet. Yet it was I who threw that love away.’
‘Aren’t you looking back through rose-tinted spectacles. Mr Dexter?’
‘Maybe.’
‘You think I should marry Lucy even though I don’t think she suits my needs?’
George chuckled. ‘You have to ask her first. She might say no! You aren’t the only man who finds her desirable, my young friend. I suspect my son is seriously smitten.’
Gerald stepped out of the car to see his father sweeping up some iron filings in the garage yard. ‘I went for an interview this afternoon. Mr Dexter gave me a lift, in fact I drove his MG most of the way. Wasn’t that generous of him?’
‘Did you get the job?’ His father’s voice was low, he didn’t look at his son.
‘Oh yes,’ Gerald replied airily. ‘I start a week on Monday.’
‘Good,’ was the abrupt reply.
‘Don’t you want to know what and where?’
‘A salesman in a car showroom?’
‘How did you know?’
His father pointed to a small Fiat parked outside the yard. ‘It isn’t grand or even very impressive but it’s yours if you want it. You’ll need transport and you can always hope they’ll think you an eccentric.’
‘I don’t understand—’
‘It’s a parting gift.’
‘Thanks, I’ll be glad of—’ But his father walked off without another word.
The excitement of the day fell from Gerald like an icy garment, spreading a chill as it went. He’d been so pleased with the interview and the friendliness of George Dexter, it was as though the day had opened a door onto a brand new start, but with hardly a word, his father’s attitude spoilt it all. A parting gift? Where was he supposed to go?
His father went into the house and said to his wife, ‘That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. We’ve spoilt him and I just hope it isn’t too late for him to stand on his own feet.’
In need of comfort and praise, Gerald went to Badgers Brook to see Lucy to tell her about the new job, but even that fell flat as there were several people there, including Teifion Dexter, who seemed completely uninterested in his news. Even Teifion seemed bored when told of his father’s kindness when he went for the interview. Lucy asked polite questions but showed no real interest in his replies. He was aware of sitting outside a close circle of friends, being in a place of which he had no part. He didn’t stay long. Better to talk to Lucy when they were on their own. After he gave her that bottle of perfume. She would listen to him then.
Leo was surprised to receive Teifion’s letter and he opened it with Walter looking over his shoulder and they read it together.
‘Please forgive me for involving you in my problem, but I believe my father is ill. He denies it but tells me he is to retire and move to the south coast of England. He wants me to take over the business and threatens to close down Evans and Calloway. He promises to employ Lucy as my assistant and I have to admit here that the thought of working with Lucy is something that strongly appeals, but not at the expense of harming either her or Meriel. If I go back to help my father, Lucy will believe I have betrayed them and this is something I don't want to happen.
My instinct is to ignore all this, I dread the thought of going back to work for him, but I am worried in case my father really is unwell and this is his way of asking for my help. What sort of a son would I be if I did nothing? Frieda is not the type to care for a sick person.
I don’t know what to do and would appreciate the opportunity to talk to you about it.
Will you phone me at the Ship and let me know if you agree to help?’
Walter read the letter a second time and said, ‘I believe the boy’s genuine, what do you think?’
‘What also jumps out of the page is his feelings for Lucy. I think that if I go, you should come with me.’ And so it was agreed. Leo rang Teifion and arranged to meet him at the weekend, when he, Walter and Lynne could include a visit to Badgers Brook.
Without mentioning it to Walter, Leo went to the Religious Books shop and invited the young girl assistant to have lunch with him. ‘I’m visiting a client and I need to eat and prefer not to eat alone,’ he explained. She accepted with obvious pleasure and led him to a café where a long list of choices turned out to be chips with anything you fancied. As they ate he was thinking that they would have done better to buy from Gwennie Flint‘s and eat chips straight from the paper, sitting on a park bench. But he hadn’t come expecting haute cuisine, he wanted to find out where the Roberts-Price family had gone.
Apart from listing her opinions about the dull boring family to which her friend had the misfortune to belong, he learned little. The town to which the family had moved was Bridgend and the street she thought might be something to do with a castle or something medieval but she remembered nothing more.
‘She promised to write, but I don’t think she will,’ she said. ‘And I won’t be devastated if I never see her again. Can you believe she’s not allowed to go to dances, or the pictures, she can’t listen to the wireless or buy records – at least when the old man is around. I sold her a record player,’ she confided, ‘and she keeps it hidden, only playing her records when he’s safely out of the way.’
Leo remembered with sadness the view of the young girl dancing alone, her reedy voice singing along with the lyrics, trying to put some gaiety into that sombre house.
‘What a life, eh?’ the girl went on. ‘That job in Woolworth’s was her best chance of having fun but her miserable father made her leave and move away. And,’ she added, her eyes wild with disbelief, ‘she has to go to church three times every Sunday. I ask you, what sort of a nineteen-year-old girl accepts that these days? A drip, that’s what sort of girl. I was glad when she left.’
‘But I thought, as you work in a shop selling religious books, you’d understand?’
‘Understand? Do I heck! I took the job to fill in until I’m old enough to join the ATS. It sounds good when they ask what I’ve been doing, see.’
Leo thanked her for her time, wished her luck in her future career and went back to the car. It had all been an utter waste of time. Or had it?
On a whim he went to Bridgend and asked if there were any religious book shops in the area and was told of two. At the first he struck lucky. He stood in the doorway pretending to look at the books displayed on a stand, and as his eyes became accustomed to the dark interior, there behind the counter he saw the unmistakable stooped form of Mr Roberts-Price. Hoping he hadn’t been seen, he walked swiftly away.
After a phone call giving Walter untrue reasons for his delay, he sat near the shop in his car and waited. At five o’clock the shop door closed and a few moments later, during which time Leo wondered whether the staff had left by a back door and he’d missed his quarry, three people came out. The door was locked by Mr Roberts-Price then rattled to make sure it was properly secure. Heart racing, Leo started the engine.
The man didn’t go far. In the street behind the book shop he went into a door beside a bakery. The daughter went in a few minutes after him, dressed in a long ill-fitting dress and flat sandals, her hair straight, unevenly cut and reaching her shoulders. Leo found it hard to believe she was approaching twenty.
Hunger was tormenting him but he waited for an hour but no one came out again. He drove back to Barry, satisfied he had found their new home. He still didn’t know how he would use the information, but felt reassured by having it.
Lucy woke the next morning and felt her head jar painfully as she lifted it from the pillow. A tightness around her throat and a tickle that quickly developed into a cough and she knew she had caught another unseasonal cold. She had always been susceptible to these and wondered what to do about it. Kitty recommended oranges, lots of oranges. Stella in the post office advocated lemon juice and blackcurrant jam. When she went downstairs, where Meriel was already up and setting the table for breakfast, she was sent straight back to bed.
When she protested, Meriel said, ‘The best way of getting rid of a cold is to rest, and besides, our clients wouldn’t be pleased if you passed it on.’
Teifion heard at lunchtime from someone who had called at the office and as soon as the pub closed he went to see Meriel. ‘Can I do anything, go and see her and take Lucozade or Tizer?’ he offered.
‘Best to let her rest,’ she said after thanking him.
‘Then can I do something here? There was a brief silence and he added, ‘That’s if you trust me.’
She smiled, and gestured towards Lucy’s chair.
When they closed the office at five, he went with her to Badgers Brook and to their surprise, when they reached the door they heard voices and laughter. ‘Gerald!’ Teifion said pulling a face. ‘Perhaps I won’t stay after all.’
‘Don’t be so defeatist,’ Meriel said, pushing him through the kitchen.
‘Gerald’s got himself a job,’ Lucy’s muffled voice reported.
‘Two jobs, isn’t that going to be difficult?’ Teifion asked.
‘My father and I have parted company. I phoned about a position and went to Cardiff for an interview. They were very impressed, especially as your father let me drive myself there in his MG,’ he added, watching for Teifion’s reaction. ‘I start work on Monday as a car salesman.’
‘Does this mean you’ll be moving?’ Meriel asked. ‘If you’ve been kicked out by your father you won’t want to go on living there, will you?’
‘What d’you mean? My father didn’t kick me out, I found a better way of earning my living.’
‘We had an enquiry today, from a neighbour and he said your father told you to go. What’s that if it isn’t being kicked out?’ Meriel asked sweetly.
Teifion laughed at the man’s discomfort and looked at Lucy, relieved to see she was sharing it.
Gerald realized with alarm that Meriel was right, he would have to find somewhere else to live. Leaving home! How would he manage, unless Lucy agreed to marry him? Sharing Badgers Brook with her and Meriel wouldn’t be too bad, until he got on his feet and could afford something better. He touched the house key in his pocket. He’d better get home fast before his father presumed he wouldn’t be back. He had visions of seeing his clothes piled up on the doorstep. All appeared normal when he returned, his parents were listening to the wireless and he muttered goodnight and went to bed with a sigh of relief. He wasn’t ready to move out, he wondered vaguely if he ever would. Despite George’s wise words, Lucy’s charms didn’t give the situation that much urgency, he admitted sadly.
When Leo eventually reached the office, Walter and Lynne were there although it was after closing time.
‘Where have you been all day?’ Walter asked.
‘I’m sorry but something happened and I had to deal with it. I’ll make up my time. Sorry I couldn’t let you know how long I’d be.’
‘I asked where have you been.’
Leo looked at his employer and lowered his head. ‘It’s private,’ he said.
‘Nothing to do with our daughter?’
From Walter and Lynne’s expression Leo knew it was pointless to lie. ‘Meriel was devastated when George Dexter told her you were her adoptive parents. Since then she has tried to accept it, but feels she won’t be able to until she finds her other family and is told why they gave her away. She wants to see the family she was born into and find out who she is. I can understand that.’
‘You’ve been investigating, even though you know we didn’t want this?’
‘Not investigating, I didn’t know where to begin. More like excluding someone from her possibilities.’
‘And did you? Exclude these people from her possibilities?’
‘Not really. I just don’t know. The family in question doesn’t seem the right sort, but – I’m sorry but I really think she needs to know. All I have decided is to investigate this one lead and if it’s wrong, as I think it is, that will be an end to it. I really don’t know any other place to search.’
‘Finding a connection with a Bible-thumping bore, how will that help her?’ Walter growled and in alarm Lynne spoke over Walter’s words hoping Leo had failed to hear them and realize their import. ‘We don’t know who she was, Leo, we aren’t allowed to know,’ she shouted to block out the words. ‘Our guesses won’t help anyone, and guessing is all we can do.’
‘We were never told,’ Walter insisted. ‘Secrecy protects the mother as well as the child. We don’t even know the town in which she was born. Believe me, there are no clues to help us even if we wanted to find out where she belonged before we took her into our lives. Please, Leo, let this rest.’
He felt shame for upsetting them but Walter’s outburst, his angry mention of the ‘Bible-thumping’ family gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach which he hoped he’d managed to hide. Lynne said they had no idea, so perhaps Walter was hinting that he knew where his enquires had led him, nothing more than that.
‘Please, Leo,’ Walter said, ‘if we mean anything to you, Lynne, Meriel and me, please drop it.’
‘I’m sorry I’ve upset you,’ he said. ‘I apologize to you both.’
Lynne stood up and went to the door, Walter following. She turned and said, ‘This is not the way to make her notice you, Leo. There are better, kinder means to attract her attention than this.’
Startled, he stared at her.
Walter attempted a smile and quirked an eyebrow. ‘Don’t think we haven’t noticed how much you care for her. You’ve seen her grow from a gawky schoolgirl into a lovely woman – your feelings for her changing too.’
‘Nothing would delight us more than you and our daughter getting close. It’s our dearest wish.’ Lynne said as she opened the office door and stepped out. ‘Good night. Come on, Walter, darling, let’s leave him to think about things. We’ll talk about it again tomorrow.’
‘Just remember what happened to Pandora when she opened that box,’ Walter remarked grimly as they left.
Were they warning him he would lose Meriel if he didn’t agree? He had never been a man to evade trouble, had always thought it best to face it head on. He knew he wouldn’t rest before talking to Meriel. He had to ask her one more time if she really wanted to take the risk of knowing the truth. His loyalty was to her. Walter’s displeasure was a risk he had to take. He called briefly to tell his mother he wouldn’t be home until very late then drove once more to Badgers Brook. He was unaware of Walter making the same decision.
Lucy was in a chair, wrapped up and dosed with lot lemon juice and blackcurrant jam – delivered earlier by Stella. Meriel was listening to the wireless turned low and the fire was slowly sifting down to its end. A peaceful scene and what Leo had to say would probably ruin it.
He was offered a cup of tea and when they were seated, he said, ‘Meriel, are you sure you want to find your first family? They might not want to find you, remember. You could cause them a great deal of hurt. And you could find the truth upsetting, too. Wouldn’t you be happier just living with vague dreams? After all, you could invent a family and make them what you want them to be. Rich, poor, clever, successful or the village idiots, happy or miserable, town or country, tall or short, fat or thin, knock-kneed, toothless—’ He stopped and looked at her, hoping his words had raised her spirits.
‘Leo, I have tried to forget it, I really have, but I must know. Even if they are the worst people I can imagine, I need to know where I came from and why I was abandoned.’ She lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes filled with suspicion. ‘You know, don’t you! You know!’
He carefully explained his reasons and the way the investigation had taken him. Then he told her of the slip made by her father that his mother couldn’t quite cover up.
‘Who are they?’ she whispered and he held her close, her heart beating wildly against his own.
‘I’m whistling in the wind here, I’m not at all convinced,’ he began, ‘I haven’t spoken to them, faced them with it.’
‘Tell me!’
‘It was Teifion’s initial idea that you are the daughter of the Roberts-Price family and I’m now beginning to believe he was right. I have no proof, just a few odd hints, their behaviour when they see you, their leaving Church Cottage so soon after moving there, and making their daughter move with them, give up her job and start again. They’re running away from something, at least, he is, but I have nothing more concrete than that. I wish I hadn’t started this. All I’ve done is upset you and your parents and none of you deserve it.’
She gave a groan and whispered. ‘I believe I knew. There was always something odd about the way he was with me. He avoided me and ran off whenever I appeared, or pedalled off on that creaky old bike, and there was the strangeness of them all. Belonging to them, being their dark unspoken secret, was one of my worst dreams. I was the explanation of their oddness. I was the reason they lived surrounded by secrecy. They suffered shame and guilt from my being born which was made worse by then giving me away.’
‘None of the shame rests with you, remember that. You are innocent of anything sad or shameful. You are Meriel Evans and that baby was the end of a tragedy and the beginning of something wonderful.’
A knock at the door and Walter walked in. ‘So he’s told you then?’
Still clinging to Leo, Meriel could only nod.
‘Then let this be an end to it. I pray you’ll never learn the rest. If you have any feelings for us at all, finish this now. Forget the Roberts-Price family and let it go. If you carry on with this you will destroy your mother. Is that what you want?’
‘There’s more?’ Meriel gasped.
‘For heaven’s sake, Meriel, let it rest!’
Walter turned and went out, running down the path to the lane. Through the open door they heard the sound of the engine as he drove away.
Lucy, wrapped like a cocoon, forgotten by them all, peered out from the blankets.
‘That wasn’t very sensible, was it? Telling you there’s more and demanding you don’t try to find out what it might be. Red rag to a bull, that is!’