Leo was at the office waiting for Walter the following morning. He had been unable to sleep and at five thirty had gone for a walk to Watchtower Bay and around the lake. He had met no one and was thankful he hadn’t needed to make polite, inane comments on the hour or the weather. He valued the silence as he tried to decide what he would say to his boss.
Should he offer to resign? That was the worst thing; his loyalty and support for Meriel might result in him leaving the job he had enjoyed since leaving school. He didn’t regret supporting Meriel but wished the outcome had been a failure to find her first family instead of her having to face the sad Roberts-Price family and search for echoes of herself in them.
He stood when Walter walked in and began to apologize. ‘I’m so sorry about this. I had no idea it would be so painful. I so wanted to help her and I thought that if I made enquiries. and assured her there was no connection between the Roberts-Prices and her, that she’d give up, but now she insists on seeing them for herself. I honestly thought any enquiries I made would come to nothing. I’m truly sorry.’ When Walter took off his jacket and began to look through the mail without saying a word, he went on, ‘I’ll quite understand if you want me to leave. I don’t want to, but if it’s what you and Mrs Evans would like – if it would help.’
‘How would it help me to lose an able assistant? Have you any idea how difficult it is to find experienced staff?’
‘Then I can stay?’
‘Of course,’ Walter said gruffly. He attempted a smile and added, ‘Meriel would kill me if I sacked you, wouldn’t she?’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’d better take some more unofficial holiday and go and see if she’s all right.’
‘What d’you want me to say – to do?’
‘Leo, I’ve known you since you were a toddler. If I can’t trust you to do the right thing now, when will I ever?’
‘She will want to meet them.’
‘Then go with her. Help her to understand, will you?’
Still stricken with guilt, seeing the strain on Walter’s face and knowing he was at least partly responsible, made the prospect of talking to Meriel difficult. Should he discourage her from trying to talk to the Roberts-Price family? Or would that make her go there alone and face whatever happened without support?
When he reached Cwm Derw he didn’t go straight to the office but sat in the café, nursing a cup of tea he didn’t really want, playing with a scone he couldn’t eat, trying to clear his mind, calm himself for the difficult interview ahead. He reached Evans and Calloway as Meriel was making a cup of coffee in the room behind the office. ‘Make that two, will you?’ he called.
‘Oh Leo!’ she sighed, coming to greet him. ‘I’m so glad you’ve come. Pandora’s box this certainly is. What can I do to make it all right again?’
‘What d’you want to do?’ he asked, holding her close.
‘Truthfully?’
‘Truthfully,’ he replied.
‘I want to talk to Mr and Mrs Roberts-Price.’
‘Then that’s what we’ll do.’
Leo phoned the Ship and spoke to Teifion, who arrived at two thirty and after a brief explanation agreed to stay until five o’clock. Meriel and Leo drove to Bridgend and went into the shop selling religious literature and asked to speak to Mr Roberts-Price. The assistant came out of the back room and told them the boss was out. ‘He won’t be back today,’ she said after acknowledging Leo with a smile. ‘There’s a publishers’ conference or something. Can I give him a message?’
‘You don’t know where his daughter is working, I suppose?’ Leo asked.
‘In a shoe shop – and hating it! It’s next to the cinema. There’s a musical on there this week.’ Leo thanked her and they left.
‘I think we should try and find the daughter,’ Leo said. ‘Her name is Martha, she’s nineteen but looks about fifteen.’
‘What is she like?’
‘Old-fashioned and childlike, very much under her father’s thumb I’d guess. But under that subdued and obedient appearance I think there’s quiet defiance.’ He told her about the time he had peered into the cottage near the church and saw her dancing and singing to lively music from her gramophone. ‘She obviously has some spirit, in spite of her parents’ rigid upbringing.’ He saw her hopeful look and wished he’d said nothing. To build up her dreams, probably falsely, would add to her distress.
‘I’d better ring Teifion in case we aren’t back,’ she told him, still smiling as she imagined the girl who might be her half-sister. ‘We might be a long time, so I’ll tell him to close the office at five.’ She turned to Leo walking beside her, his hand under her arm, and pointed to a phone box. ‘He’s been very kind to us, hasn’t he? It’s as though he’s trying to make up for his father’s behaviour. Being your father doesn’t make a man perfect, does it?’
‘You don’t have many complaints about your own, do you?’
‘None at all. I couldn’t have asked for more. He and Mam have given me a wonderful life. I love them and I’m grateful.’
‘So why are you going on with this, knowing it’s hurting them?’
She pushed his hand from her arm and linked arms. ‘It probably sounds silly, but for one thing I’d be afraid to marry, because I don’t know what I’ve inherited, perhaps some dreadful disease I could pass on to my children, or some human weakness that might show itself. Oh, I don’t know! Call it curiosity if you like! I thought I knew who I was, but when George told everyone I was an adopted child, that Walter and Lynne Evans are not my real parents, he took away everything of importance.’
‘Except their love for you.’
‘That isn’t why I’m doing this.’
‘Then what is the real reason for this crusade?’
‘Nothing specific. I just need to know, to see whether I recognize anything of myself in any of them.’
‘If – and it’s a big if – if they are your missing family, the soldier you told me about, who threatened you with the police when you were sorting out his parents’ shed – he could be a half-brother.’
‘And the sad little girl you describe will be my sister.’ She squeezed his arm. ‘Nothing will change my love for my parents, that has never been in doubt, even during those first awful moments. Nor has your friendship been anything but true.’
It wasn’t what she wanted to say and neither was it what he wanted to hear and they went towards the shoe shop a little sadder for it having been said.
They stood outside the shop for a few minutes, both afraid of what they might learn. Looking through the window, the interior was too dark for them to see whether the place was busy, and finally they went inside the rather gloomy shop with its heavy smell of leather.
‘We need to talk to your father,’ Leo said to the brown-haired dull-looking girl who came to assist them. Meriel stared, wide-eyed, at the unattractive stranger who might be a relation. Surely this must be a mistake?
‘Will he be at home this evening?’ Leo asked.
‘Who shall I say is calling?’
‘My name is Leo Hopkins, but he won’t know me. I’d rather not say what it’s about, it’s rather confidential.’
The girl shrugged and walked away. A moment later from the room behind the shop music could be heard and as she stood close to the doorway, watching for a customer, they saw her feet, in their high-heeled sandals, were tapping in time to the music and her lips were moving silently following the words. A wartime favourite, ‘Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree, With Anyone Else But Me’. It seemed they were already forgotten.
Somehow Leo’s hand had wriggled up and was holding hers again. She knew it was only for reassurance, that he was aware of the anxieties she would face very soon. But it felt so right and the warmth of him travelled through her veins and made her feel safe. She wondered if he felt the same or whether, to him, she was still that young girl, his boss’s daughter.
Gerald was enjoying his new position. Although he hadn’t actually made a sale, he had been allowed to approach customers and cope with the preliminary chat, admiring the vehicle, telling the customer he was clearly a man of discernment. As soon as a real interest was shown he introduced him to the boss, who gave the practised spiel and told the customer how easy it was to buy using hire-purchase.
He found himself boasting about Lucy quite often. His girlfriend ran her own business, he told anyone he wanted to impress. She was an estate agent and auctioneer. She must be a remarkable woman, was the frequent response, and he agreed with more and more pride. That it saved him admitting his father mended motorbikes was a bonus. Until one day when he gave his name to someone who wanted to meet him for a drink after work. The man was obviously wealthy, buying a new car for his wife.
‘Cook, you say? Not related to Arthur Cook, are you?’
Before Gerald could make up some story about a distant uncle, the man went on, ‘Marvellous man. There isn’t anyone else this side of Birmingham or nearer than London who can do what he does. My first motorbike was offered for scrap, but it was all I could afford. A Norton it was. Nothing more than a wreck to be honest, but Arthur Cook restored it to perfection. The parts he couldn’t find he made in that small workshop of his. The man’s a genius.’
‘He’s my father,’ Gerald said, still with doubts about whether he should admit it. After all, a mechanic wasn’t on the same level as this man with his smart, expensive suit and clean hands.
‘You must be thrilled to have a father like Arthur Cook. Wait till I tell my father. Tell him Peter Drew was asking about him.’
Guilt made Gerald stutter as he promised to tell his father he had met him. It was very confusing. Later, he asked his boss if he had heard of Arthur Cook, a restorer of motor cycles, and the man admitted he hadn’t heard of him. That made Gerald feel much better. The man had been talking rubbish.
He was glad of something to tell his father, though. He had ignored the request to leave home and had continued to use his bedroom, but his parents were making it clear they didn’t want him there. Any attempts at conversation were quickly snubbed and at least this little snippet of his exciting new job would be of interest. He repeated the name for fear he’d forget it.
A few days later his boss suggested he invited Lucy to lunch. ‘I’ll bring the wife and we can get to know each other.’
He wrote to Lucy and asked her to meet him.
At five o’clock as Teifion was closing her office door back in Cwm Derw, Meriel stood beside Leo and watched the door at the side of the bakery in Bridgend, for the appearance of William Roberts-Price. He arrived with the girl they knew was his daughter, at a quarter to six and unlocked the front door. Meriel noted that the shoes the girl now wore were heavy brown lace-ups.
As the door was about to shut the sad looking couple inside, they called and ran across. They saw momentary fear shadow the man’s face and he moved the door as though he was about to close it against them. Then he relented and said, ‘You’d better come in.’
They were shown into what the man called the parlour, a cold impersonal room furnished with a polished table around which there were four elegant and precisely placed chairs. An armchair stood on either side of an empty grate, each with a pristine cushion carefully arranged. Heavy dark-green curtains hung at the window almost obliterating the light. Meriel sat on an armchair and Leo stood beside her. Mr Roberts-Price excused himself and said he would be a moment, and left them. Uneasy, unable to sit still, Meriel stood up beside Leo, close together in the cold, comfortless room.
When the door reopened it was his daughter who came in. She held out a hand, saying, ‘I’m Martha. Who are you?’ she asked in a whisper. ‘Father seems very upset by your visit. Is he in trouble?’
‘No trouble, I promise you,’ Leo said, putting an arm around Meriel’s shoulders. ‘Trouble is the last thing we want.’
Martha’s parents came in then and sent her out to make tea.
‘We don’t want to upset you,’ Meriel said hesitantly, ‘I just need to know – can you tell me – is there any truth in the story that I am your daughter?’ They were such a sad couple and living in a sad house that she willed them to say no, the idea was a nonsense.
‘You are our daughter,’ the man said, and his wife nodded agreement, and Meriel felt her whole body begin to shake. The room spun around her and she would have fallen if Leo hadn’t been holding her. She was shivering violently and Leo lowered her gently into one of the stiff armchairs and wrapped her in his coat. He spoke soothingly to her and kept reassuring her that everything would be all right, he’d take her home and stay with her until she had recovered.
Mr Roberts-Price left the room and came back with a drink of water, his wife knelt down beside Meriel and rubbed warmth into the girl’s hands. Slowly the room righted itself and her eyes focused. She looked properly for the first time at the woman who had given her life. She had the same colour hair as herself but it was carelessly arranged, dragged back into a loose plait that stretched down her back, almost to her waist.
‘I didn’t really think it would be true,’ she whispered to Leo. ‘For all my talk, I wasn’t prepared for this.’
The couple stood near them and said nothing as Leo continued to talk to her in a low voice. Meriel looked at them, he with his old-fashioned clothes like a person from another time, and the woman who was her mother, wearing a homemade cotton dress and apron, dark colours, plain design. Fashion and attractiveness were forbidden strangers in this house, she thought miserably, and happiness too. How could this be true?
The family members she had met were all wrapped in some shameful embarrassment, hiding behind plainness, apologizing to the world, ashamed to be seen. Surely it couldn’t be because of her birth and abandonment? After almost twenty-three years the wounds must have healed?
‘Please don’t discuss this in front or our daughter – our other daughter.’
‘As you wish,’ Leo answered for her.
‘Can we meet somewhere and talk it through?’
Having heard the last remark and seeing an opportunity, Martha put the tea tray down and asked, ‘May I go to the pictures, Mother? It’s nothing violent or wicked.’
‘Just this once,’ her father said. The young woman skipped off like a ten-year-old.
‘My wife and I knew this day must come, so you might as well hear our shameful secret. Keeping it is now impossible.’
Meriel reached for Leo’s hand as he went on, ‘Ellie gave birth to you when we were only seventeen. We weren’t allowed to marry and were separated. Our child –’ he stared at Meriel with his sad eyes for a long moment – ‘was given up for adoption. A year later we had defied them once again and our son Jacob was born. This time our families accepted that we loved each other and allowed us to marry.’
‘That’s a lovely story,’ Meriel said softly, her voice quivering with emotion. ‘I’m so relieved. You can’t imagine how many unhappy stories I’ve invented since I learned of my adoption.’
‘The story didn’t end there. A year on we had a second daughter, Martha, and our son died. We felt it was punishment for our behaviour, flouting the teaching of the Bible. Even though we were gifted of a second son, who is now eighteen, we didn’t feel forgiven.’
Meriel didn’t know what to say. Leo offered her his hand to rise. ‘Thank you, Mr and Mrs Roberts-Price. We are most grateful to you for talking to us and explaining why you couldn’t be parents to Meriel. I think I should take her home now.’
‘Yes, thank you both. It was not knowing, you see? I didn’t know who I was any more.’
Mrs Roberts-Price opened a drawer in the table and brought out a locked box. From it she took some papers, many yellow and faded. ‘We were fortunate, knowing you were loved and being given a good life.’ She began spreading out the contents of the box and Meriel saw they were photographs and school reports and some newspaper cuttings showing various sports day events and stepping closer she recognized they were all about herself. She looked at the woman who was her mother and frowned.
‘Your new mother was thoughtful and generous,’ Ellie told her. ‘Lynne Evans found out who we were and over the twenty-two years and ten and a half months, has sent news of you.’
‘Anonymously of course,’ her husband added, ‘but we knew who was sending them. Such a kind, generous woman to allow us to share in your special moments.’
Meriel still felt a bit light-headed as they walked to the car. She was tearful but Leo didn’t speak, he held her, silently comforting her, knowing this wasn’t the time for an inquest into the strange visit. That would come later when she had been through it all in her mind.
At home, Walter was edgy, waiting for Leo to telephone to tell him how the dreaded visit had gone. Instead it was Meriel who rang, from the office when they called to glance through Teifion’s notes for a quick update on the day’s happenings. ‘Dadda, I’ve seen them and I understand why they couldn’t look after me.’
‘We were so lucky that they had to part with you,’ Walter said. ‘You’ve brought us so much joy over the years we can never thank them enough.’
‘I don’t think they want thanks, but they’re grateful for Mam’s kindness in sending regular reports on my progress. Wasn’t that a wonderful thing to do? They’re such a sad little family.’
‘Regular reports?’
‘Yes, you know, Mam sent school reports and pieces of news and— Oh no. Don’t tell me you didn’t know!’
‘I didn’t know.’
‘You aren’t angry?’
He was bewildered and hurt that he’d not been included in Lynne’s secret, but he said, ‘Hurt? How could I be? Such thoughtfulness is typical of your mother.’
‘Dadda, let’s make an end to these secrets. Talk to Mam, tell her you’re pleased she helped them to keep contact.’
‘I am pleased, it was a generous thing to do. And you’re right. There’ll be no more secrets, my darling girl.’ But behind his back his fingers were painfully crossed.
There was still one secret and that must never be revealed.
Leo went back with Meriel to Badgers Brook, where Lucy was up and preparing a meal insisting she would be well enough to work the following day. As they ate Meriel told her all they had learned. With coffee beside them Leo and Meriel talked about the day and the strangeness of the family they had met.
‘It’s as though they’re punishing themselves for loving each other,’ Lucy surmised. ‘Keeping that daughter of theirs on a short leash too, for fear she’ll be as wayward as they once were. If I were her I’d run away and join a group of gypsies, exchange the prison of that home for the freedom of the road.’
‘The saddest thing is, it’s probably too late.’ She held Leo’s hand and said, ‘I feel ashamed to say this, but didn’t I have a lucky escape, being brought up by Mam and Dadda instead of being inhibited and choked by their guilt?’
‘But if they’d kept you they wouldn’t have felt guilty.’
‘Oh yes they would. Some other reason would have been found, it’s what they are. So afraid of life and of making mistakes they don’t do anything that has the slightest risk. They’re ashamed and wrapped up in guilt and fearing a God who is loving and forgiving.’
‘Perhaps knowing the secret is out will help them. They might learn from it.’
‘Well,’ Lucy said with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, ‘it seems you two have learned a lot today, not the least about yourselves.’
Leo let Meriel’s hand go and stared at Lucy. ‘Don’t mind me,’ Lucy said with a chuckle. ‘I’m going to wash the dishes and it will take me a very long time!’
Embarrassed by Lucy’s remarks, afraid Meriel might not have been pleased at the implications, Leo kissed her lightly on the cheek, called ‘Goodnight’ to Lucy, and left. Meriel’s spirits sank. A joke, a hint that he was fond of her and he had run away. She ran down the path and stopped him as he got into the car.
‘I’ll want to see them again, will you come?’ she asked.
‘Of course I’ll come. We’re friends, aren’t we? You know I’ll do anything to help.’
‘That’s very friendly of you. Although it’s probably nothing more than trying to please the boss!’ she retorted as she hurried back inside.
As it seemed to be the day for sorting out people’s problems even if not his own, Leo went to the Ship and Compass. The bar was quiet. Betty was chatting to Bob and Colin, a couple sat near the fire and Teifion was emptying a tray of washed glasses and putting them in their places. Leo ordered a beer and engaged him in a discussion about his father.
He didn’t know the facts about Teifion’s childhood and knew he couldn’t really contribute, but as in most cases, all the man needed was someone to listen. He wondered doubtfully if he could keep his thoughts away from Meriel long enough to be any use.
‘My father wants me to go back to the business and I can’t,’ Teifion began.
‘Why, it’s yours, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be there to keep up with it all?’
‘Lots of reasons why I want to stay away, most of them boiling down to my father’s attitude.’
‘We all have problems with parents at some time, we usually grow out of it,’ Leo offered.
‘I was never happy at home and looking back I’ve spent all my life trying to please him. Making him proud of me was impossible – I learned that at a very young age – but I tried to please him, convinced that would be enough. Now I’ve come to my senses and realize nothing will change. I’m not sure what I’ll do with my life but it will be independent of my father.’
‘You’ll tell him that?’
‘He won’t listen,’ he replied dolefully, rubbing at a glass that was already shining. ‘The strange thing is, the job wasn’t the problem. I’ve really enjoyed it since working with Lucy – and Meriel, of course.
‘Of course.’ He smiled. ‘Lucy being the real draw?’
‘I like her very much, but I don’t think we have a future, that’s something else my father has ruined for me. How can she trust me after the way he’s treated them?’
‘If it were me, I’d stay away, but you know your father better than I and you must decide.’
‘What if he’s ill?’
‘That is a sticky one, but he has a wife, that would be her problem to solve, wouldn’t it?’
When he left, Leo wasn’t sure if he had helped, but had always believed that speaking the words aloud was always better than having them going round and round in the head. He wondered if Lucy was aware of Teifion’s growing attraction but his thoughts soon returned to Meriel and how she was coping with the dramatic developments.
A note was handed in to the Ship the following morning. It was from George asking Teifion to go home as there was something urgent to discuss. The note was brief but hinted that he, George, needed help.
Determined to be firm, explain to his father that his interests were no longer with the family business, he set off an hour before opening time. He had hardly reached the gate before hearing voices raised in anger punctuated by the alarming sounds of smashing glass. He began to run up the drive but was almost knocked off his feet by his father running from the house. He was panting, red in the face and blind to everything except his urgent need to get away.
He began to run after him but was stopped by the slamming of the front door. He turned to see Frieda coming out of the house dragging a couple of suitcases. Ignoring him, she went to the gate and got into a taxi as the driver came up and collected the suitcases.
Before he could gather his wits and decide what to do, Teifion heard his father’s powerful car leaving the garage. He had to leap onto the lawn to avoid being knocked aside. The taxi had gone and he stood there like a half-melted statue until the sound of it faded away. He was panting almost as much as his father had been.
Using his key he went into the house wondering what he’d find. He opened the door to chaos. Furniture had been pushed over, every ornament he could see was smashed, as were the fine crystal glasses from the shelves. Picture frames no longer contained glass, and even the curtains had been pulled from their pole. A vase of flowers leaned drunkenly against the wall above the fireplace and water dripped musically onto the metal fire tools below.
His first thought as he stood gazing at the damage was that neither of the participants had been harmed. He gingerly picked up the phone and told Betty what had happened.
‘I’ll get in touch with the woman who used to be the housekeeper,’ she promised, and in less than ten minutes, while he stood bemused, she arrived.
The capable woman took charge and between them they cleared up the dangerous glass, threw out the broken items and put the room back in some semblance of order.
Teifion sat there for a long time after the housekeeper had gone, wondering where his father was and whether he’d be back. Eventually he wrote a note and went back to the Ship.
He went back to the house several times before he went to bed but there was no sign of his return. Days passed and there was still no word. He began to worry and even enquired at the hospital but no one had reported an accident. The office opened daily with George’s assistant in charge and gradually his alarm subsided and he settled back into the daily routine. ‘He’ll be in touch when he needs me,’ he told Betty, with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. ‘Meanwhile the office will manage without him.’
Unable to find his father and aware that Meriel needed some time off, having been told of the meeting with her first parents, Teifion spent as much time as he could at the office with Lucy. She showed him the letter from Gerald inviting her to lunch. ‘I’m not keen to meet him or his boss. He’s hardly been near since hearing that rumour about me leaving the firm and I’ve been ill with a cold and not a word. Now this. Why would I want to go all the way into Cardiff to meet him and let him show off to his boss about how clever I am? He’s been telling him I own this business, can you believe that? He’s nothing but a poseur, and that’s all this is, he’ll pretend we’re close and boast about me as though the business has nothing to do with Meriel’s expertise.’
‘He doesn’t know you if he thinks you’ll let him get away with it!’
She smiled and said, ‘Won’t he be upset if I tell his boss I’m an unqualified hairdresser, usually employed sweeping up and shampooing hair and helping Meriel with menial jobs?’
‘You wouldn’t dare! Or perhaps you would!’
‘Poor Gerald, he has a built in snobbery button.’
‘What if I meet you after the lunch and we go for a walk in Sophia Gardens, find a café for tea and perhaps go to the pictures, make a day of it?’
‘It will probably rain if Gerald is involved,’ she said gloomily.
‘I’ll bring an umbrella!’
‘I’ll tell him it will have to be in two weeks’ time, as we’re very busy.’
‘Fine by me. Just tell me when. Betty Connors will let me have a day off.’
George appeared later that day and Teifion went to the end of the bar to serve him, wondering whether to ask questions or wait until his father explained what had happened.
‘Thanks for clearing up the mess,’ George said, but there was no remorse in his voice and his eyes were clear of any apology. ‘Frieda really went mad that day.’
‘Are you all right? You look a bit feverish.’
‘Of course I’m all right. What’s the matter with you?’
‘And that,’ Teifion told Betty, ‘was the best explanation I can hope for. What’s the matter with the man?’
‘Pride,’ Betty said succinctly. ‘He won’t let go of that till he’s in his coffin!’
Walter was busy and without Leo helping he didn’t have time to go home for lunch. A phone call to Lynne brought her to the office with a wicker picnic hamper filled with small delicacies. ‘Not good to rush a heavy meal, darling,’ she said, spreading out tiny sausage rolls, sandwiches, fruit and some small cakes.
‘Have you heard anything more from Leo or Meriel?’ she asked as he finished the last of the fruit.
‘I told Leo not to phone, but to concentrate on our daughter.’
‘I’m so afraid we’ll lose her love, Walter. This has upset her so much.’
‘Love isn’t a limited quantity, silly girl! There’s always more if there’s someone to give it to. If we’d had another daughter we’d love them both and there wouldn’t be less for Meriel, would there? Or any less for you,’ he added.
‘Such a pity I wasn’t able to give you children.’
‘I haven’t felt the lack of them. Meriel has been such a joy.’
‘Will she still be there, after this?’
‘I don’t doubt it for a single moment. Now, shall we have a cup of coffee together, before I get back to this sale of shop contents?’ He pointed to a muddle of papers beside the neat list he was making. ‘It’s a wool shop closed down and for sale. I don’t know anything about wool and knitting patterns.’
‘Let me help, darling, let’s see what I remember, knit one, make one, purl two, slip one, knit two together—’ Laughter came easily.
It was almost six o’clock when he closed the office door and they set off home. At exactly the same time, Meriel and Leo were knocking on the door beside the baker’s shop in Bridgend.
Their intention was not to go in, but to invite the family to visit them at Badgers Brook.
The daughter was invited too and on the following Saturday evening, they arrived, getting off the bus wearing stiff, obviously best outfits used only rarely and carrying with them a whiff of moth deterrent. Meriel had told her parents what they had planned but both had declined to appear. Lucy was there, but Teifion was working at the Ship.
Conversation was difficult at first, but Martha and Lucy were soon discussing the music of Glenn Miller and Tommy Dorsey and the songs of Hoagy Carmichael, amid disapproving glances from her father. Having to avoid the subjects of music and books and the wireless and the cinema, Meriel struggled to find a basis for discussion and time stood still, the conversation dragging ‘like wading through deep water wearing a long serge skirt’, she remarked to Kitty and Bob later.
The only time there was any animation in the sad couple was when they talked about the work they did for their church. Although Meriel was impressed with the industry as they told her of the fund raising and sick visiting and voluntary help they provided, it was a monologue rather than a conversation.
She and Lucy were honest in their admiration for the way they spent their lives in the service of others but after a while found even that was hard, running out of new ways of describing their genuine admiration. Everyone was relieved when it was time for them to leave. Lucy and Meriel both offered to drive them home but they insisted on catching the bus.
‘They never stop punishing themselves, do they?’ Lucy remarked as they waved them goodbye and went back to start on the dishes.
George drove from the hotel where he was staying to the shabby house where Meriel had first met Frieda. He knew his wife was there and he was prepared for another row as he made a final attempt to persuade her to come back home.
She opened the door and at once the face of the man for whom she had repeatedly left him, appeared over her shoulder.
‘Don’t come in if you intend starting another row,’ she said and the man’s arm came around her shoulder.
George lowered his head, relaxed his shoulders as though in defeat and said, ‘I just want to see if we can come to some arrangement, that’s all. If not, then I’ll go and you can start divorce proceedings as soon as you like.’ She opened the door wider and allowed him to enter.
‘If you’re sure you’ll be all right, I’ll go for a walk and leave you to talk,’ the man said.
Frieda looked at George, who said, ‘I don’t hit women, if that’s what you mean!’
When the door had screeched to a close behind the man, he sat near her on a filthy chair and said, ‘Cards on the table. We can’t go on like this and I think you at least owe me a full explanation. This isn’t just an affair, is it?’ He looked around the drab room and the ill-matched chairs, the stained walls. ‘For once in your life tell me the truth.’
‘He was my first love, but he became ill and went away. We lost touch and I found out afterwards he thought he was going to die and didn’t want me involved. He lost his way for various reasons, mostly the lack of a job and no money. He turned to crime and ended up in prison. Three times he was sentenced to prison, each term longer than the last. He’d been about to give up, knowing he couldn’t cope with another and, well, we met again and I’ve been helping him. And before you ask, yes, we’re lovers. I never stopped loving him, you see.’
‘So our marriage is a joke?’
‘No, George, never that. But after we met again, I couldn’t leave him, not even for you.’
‘Now I know, will you come back and pretend? I’m beginning to realize that pride isn’t enough, but if it’s all I have then it’s better than nothing.’
He was aware of a pain in his chest but managed to hide it. This was his last chance and he couldn’t risk losing her in spite of all she’d told him. No one else need know, not even Teifion, he told himself, at least people would believe that he, George Dexter, was able to keep his pretty young wife.
‘Give me my pride,’ he said, knowing he had to get out before he collapsed.
‘Give me a few days to get a decent place for him to live and I’ll come back,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ he replied with more humility than he’d shown in his entire life. She put his breathlessness down to emotion. He drove himself straight to hospital and still breathless and in pain, stopped at the gates. Then he changed his mind and drove away. A few more days, just until Frieda came back, so people would know she was home again.
He drove home and went to bed. That’s all he needed, a couple of quiet days. Then he would talk to Teifion, remind him of where his loyalties lay.
William and Ellie Roberts-Price came to Badgers Brook several times after that first difficult visit, bringing photographs of their son, Jacob. Meriel still found the visits difficult and was relieved when Leo managed to be there too.
Then Martha came on her own. Less self-conscious without the presence of her father she explained how much she had enjoyed working on the record counter and talking to the young people who crowded around every Saturday to listen, buy and discuss the latest releases. ‘I was supposed to be the one with knowledge about the classical stuff but I prefer dance music,’ she explained. She lifted her legs and pointed to the heavy lace-up shoes she wore. ‘I hide these shoes which Father insists I wear and put on some really smart sandals, and dance to the rhythm like the rest.’
‘If you enjoyed it so much, why did you leave and get a job in a shoe shop?’ Meriel asked.
‘Father didn’t like me working there and when we moved he said it was too far from home. There were buses, but he wasn’t willing.’
‘How old are you?’ Lucy asked pointedly.
‘Obviously not old enough!’ was the reply.
One evening in September, while Meriel and Leo took the parents for a walk through the wood and down to the remnants of Treweather’s farm with its chickens and a few sheep, Lucy and Martha discussed hair. ‘I think your hair would wave a little if you took some of the weight off it with a good cut,’ Lucy said.
‘I can’t! Father won’t allow it.’
‘How old are you, Martha?’ Lucy repeated the question with a sigh.
‘Nearly twenty.’
‘Can he forbid you to have your hair cut?’
‘He says while I’m under his roof—’
‘There’s the solution. Find another roof!’
‘I’d love to stay here with you and Meriel,’ she said wistfully.
Lucy shook her head. ‘That would be changing one bolt hole for another. If you leave it has to be to make your own way. A room wouldn’t cost very much and you might find another girl to share with you. Nothing’s impossible and that’s a lesson I was late learning. I made the mistake of staying too long with my parents and if it hadn’t been for Meriel, I might still be there.’
‘My brother Noah is in the army and he told me that when he’s finished his time he won’t be coming back.’
‘What will he do?’
‘He’s clever with accounts, book-keeping and office management. He wanted to go to college and study accountancy, but Father refused, said it was not for people like us. Noah said he doesn’t care if he sweeps the roads, he isn’t coming home.’
Lucy thought the saddest thing was that Martha’s father would be happier if his son swept roads than if he did something with prestige and a good salary.
She dug out the hairdressing equipment she had rather foolishly bought and, with Martha behaving like a frightened mouse, styled her surprisingly thick and healthy hair; washing it and drying it and leaving it silky and clean. When Lucy held up a mirror and Martha saw herself with the sleek, shining glory where there had been a dull lacklustre curtain behind which she had hidden, she stared in silence for a long time.
‘Look at the lovely young woman you’ve been hiding,’ Lucy whispered. ‘You’ve come out of the shadows.’
‘Father will kill me! He won’t let me be seen until it’s grown back,’ she wailed fiddling with the ribbons with which her hair had previously been held.
Lucy was alarmed. Had she really made difficulties for her? Persuading her to leave home, revealing herself as an attractive young woman, alienating her from the safe security of her family? Then Meriel came in with Mr and Mrs Roberts-Price and it was too late to change anything.
‘What have you done?’ the girl’s father demanded. Running forward, her mother hugged her and said, ‘Oh Martha. Look at you! Two beautiful daughters I produced. I can’t believe it. You look lovely.’ Ignoring the puffed out anger of her husband she turned to Lucy. ‘Thank you, you’re very clever.’
‘I didn’t have to do much, the beauty was always there.’
They didn’t stay any longer; pulling on the coat he had discarded only a moment before, and ignoring the meal set out for them, William Roberts-Price indicated his desire to leave and in silence, Martha and her mother collected their things. Meriel and Lucy walked up to the end of the lane with them and waited for the bus. Although the women made brief comments in an attempt to lighten the mood, the atmosphere was awkward. It was a relief when the bus rumbled into view and they waved goodbye. Martha was the last to mount and she whispered a thank you to Lucy, adding, ‘I’m going to see if I can get my old job back. I’ll bury these awful shoes and I’ll start looking for a place to live. Can I write and let you know how I get on?’
‘Please do. I wish you luck,’ Lucy whispered back.
When the bus had disappeared Lucy turned to her friend and wailed, her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. ‘Oh Meriel, what have I done?’
‘Made the poor girl see herself for the first time?’
‘I talked to her about her leaving home and she’s such an innocent she’ll get into terrible trouble and it’ll be my fault!’
‘If she’s my half-sister, then she’ll cope!’ Meriel replied. Then her eyes widened.
‘D’you know I keep forgetting she’s not a half-sister but a full one, both of her parents are mine too. And I have a full blood-brother called Noah. I wonder what they would have called me? D’you think names influence what you become? Would I have been the same if I’d been brought up by them and called Penitent?’
‘There’s no such name.’
‘You’d be surprised. Martha’s second name is Goodness. Noah’s was to be Servant of God but the vicar refused, according to Martha.’
‘Come on, Penitent, let’s have a cup of tea.’
They were still up talking over the events of the evening when there was a knock at the door. Leo called out and came in.
‘I saw there was a light on. I wouldn’t have knocked otherwise,’ he said. ‘Come on then, how did it go?’
‘I’m ashamed to say that again I feel nothing but relief that they gave me to Mam and Dadda,’ Meriel said. ‘I’d have certainly been a non-achiever if I’d been brought up in that inhibiting, unhappy atmosphere, where guilt is worn like a badge almost with pride. Does that make me a terrible person, d’you think?’
‘It makes me realize how important it is to consider your responsibilities when you have a child. How important it is for them to be free to make their own choices.’
‘You want children, Leo?’ Lucy asked.
‘I want a family very much. Doesn’t everyone?’ He spoke lightly but he was looking at Meriel.
‘I’ll go and make the cocoa, then,’ Lucy said with a chuckle. ‘Let you get the preliminaries done.’
‘What did she mean by that?’ Meriel said, looking at him and seeing love in his eyes reflecting her own.
‘I think she means this.’ Leo offered his hands and, lifting her from her chair, enfolded her in his arms and kissed her.
Behind them Lucy stepped through the doorway and stepped back quickly, her face creased in a wide smile and her fingers firmly crossed. ‘Come on, Rascal,’ she whispered to the dog. ‘Tonight you’re going to have an extra walk. A long one I think.’
On the day Lucy had arranged to meet Gerald in Cardiff for lunch with his employers, Teifion watched as she set off with some apprehension in his heart. She was going in by bus, partly because Meriel might need the car and partly so he could meet her and drive her home. He marvelled at how much she had changed since first arriving at the new premises with Meriel. At first he automatically disliked her, she was a rival to his father and loyalty had then been strong, now he couldn’t imagine life without her.
He fervently hoped she wouldn’t be beguiled by Gerald; he was clever, a natural flirt and attractive to the ladies, and, he knew how to impress. They had known each other for a long time, even been engaged for a while and although Gerald didn’t appear to be an ardent lover, there might still be a part of Lucy’s heart he was capable of reaching.
He refilled the bar, cleaned the cellar and polished the copper pipes and all the time he was thinking about the lunch, visualizing Gerald at his most charming wondering if Lucy could be won over by Gerald’s flattery, or whether she was planning to have a little fun at his expense.
Before he left, he went back in to make sure Betty and the part-time assistant had all they needed and when the phone rang he waved and began to leave. At the door he was called back to be told that his father was on his way to hospital suffering from a suspected heart attack.
He knew the name of the restaurant where Lucy was meeting Gerald and telephoned to leave a message to tell Lucy about his father and explain that he wouldn’t be there to meet her as arranged. The young woman who took the message seemed vague about the name but promised to find her.
Outside the restaurant, a taxi pulled up and Lucy stepped out followed by Gerald and another couple. At the last moment the booking had been changed and they had eaten at an hotel.
‘He isn’t here yet,’ Lucy said, looking around the busy street.
‘I’ll wait with you, shall I?’ Gerald looked at his boss. ‘If that’s all right with you, sir?’
‘There’s no need, he’s sure to be here in a minute.’ She glanced at her watch. He was already late, but only by a few minutes. He was probably walking around as he waited for her to arrive. She insisted on Gerald leaving and managed to avoid his attempt at a kiss before he went off with Mr and Mrs Harris. She pretended not to see him turn and wave. Where was Teifion?
What was it about her and Cardiff? Was she about to face another embarrassing wait and a self-conscious walk back to the bus stop? Half an hour later she went into a nearby café for coffee, half an hour after that she went home.
She wasn’t angry as when Gerald had left her standing on the street. She was concerned. Something was wrong. An accident maybe? Alarmed, she rang the Ship but Betty wasn’t there. She tried the office but Meriel had heard nothing, but promised to try and find out. With a feeling of dread, she ran to the bus stop wishing she had used the car.