As she rode home on the bus, Lucy wasn’t angry; she was worried. She began to imagine every kind of accident and disaster. She knew Teifion wouldn’t have let her down without a good reason. She got off the bus at the end of the lane and started walking towards Badgers Brook when she saw Meriel coming to meet her.
‘What’s happened? Why aren’t you in the office?’ she asked with dread.
‘It’s George Dexter, he’s had a heart attack and is in hospital.’
Guilty relief flooded Lucy’s mind, grateful nothing had happened to Teifion. ‘So that’s why he didn’t meet me.’
‘Teifion left a message for you at the restaurant, where have you been?’
‘Plans were changed, we went to an hotel so the message didn’t reach me. I waited for more than an hour then came home. D’you think I should go there?’
‘I’m sure Teifion would be glad to see you. It sounds serious.’
‘I think I need a cup of tea first, then I’ll drive to the hospital and see if there’s anything I can do.’
They walked back down the lane, where after several days of wind and rain, there were already signs of autumn, with leaves beginning to curl and wither, and grasses yellowing and drooping to allow their seeds to fall.
‘I love it here,’ Lucy said. ‘Every time I come home it’s a reminder of how lucky I am and how fortunate we are to live in that wonderful house.’
‘The legend is that no one stays longer than they need to sort out their problems. D’you think that’s right?’
‘If it is, then perhaps I’ll be moving out one day. I have the feeling that Teifion and I will marry – not that he’s asked me,’ she added, colouring with embarrassment. ‘I might be wrong. I just feel that even after all that’s happened, we belong together.’
‘Then you’d better get to the hospital fast, so he knows you support him, even with that unpleasant father of his!’
Teifion was sitting in the corridor outside the ward and he ran to her and hugged her.
‘Thanks for coming, I’m sorry about our ruined afternoon. You got my message?’ he asked rhetorically, and was surprised when she shook her head.
‘I waited an hour then came home. Meriel met me at the bus stop and told me what happened.’
‘I’m so sorry. You must have been very angry.’
‘Angry? Of course not. I was afraid you’d been hurt or something. I knew you wouldn’t let me down without good reason.’
‘Reason. Now there’s a word that isn’t in Dad’s vocabulary!’ They sat together, hand in hand, while he told her all he knew about his father’s condition.
‘He won’t see me,’ he said. ‘I went in and asked whether Frieda has been told. He said no, that she’d gone back to her previous life, then told me to go.’
‘What was her – previous life?’ Lucy asked.
‘She worked in a dance hall and sang with the band. Apparently, the pianist was a man called Kit Keys, a made-up name of course, but it sounded good. They were more than friends – still are, I gather.’
‘This is the man she’s been seeing? In that shabby house? Why didn’t she marry him?’
‘He already had a wife and three children.’
A nurse came out and told them that his father wanted to see him and with a frown, he nodded and followed the nurse back into the ward. Lucy stood at the door and watched as Teifion went to his father’s bedside. George was propped up on several pillows. He was obviously talking although she couldn’t hear what was being said, but she guessed from Teifion’s nervously shifting feet that it was nothing pleasant. Two minutes and he was back.
‘How is he?’ Lucy asked, touching his arm.
‘Breathless but telling me off for not manning the office instead of coming here.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I reminded him I no longer worked there and he just glared at me. Illness doesn’t change anything, does it?’
‘Frieda ought to be told. D’you know where she is?’
‘I think I can find her, but should I?’
‘I can’t decide for you, but if it were me, I’d let her know.’
The simplest thing was to go to the house where Frieda had been staying and, leaving Lucy at the hospital, he drove there following Meriel’s directions. Frieda carelessly tidied herself by putting on fresh make-up and combing her hair then followed him out to the car. On the way to the hospital Teifion explained that he was disobeying his father’s wishes. ‘Be prepared,’ he warned. ‘Your reception might not be warm.’
‘I can’t believe he wouldn’t want to see me at a time like this.’
The nurse led her straight into the ward and Teifion sat beside Lucy with fingers prominently crossed. Only a minute passed before he gestured to the doors through which Frieda came, trying to wipe tears from her eyes.
‘He told me to go back to my piano player,’ she said.
‘Come back to the house,’ Lucy suggested. ‘None of us can do anything here.’
Trying to take her mind off George’s abrupt dismissal, Lucy told her about Meriel’s success in finding her real parents.
‘Telling Meriel about her birth was such a cruel thing to do. What pleasure does he get from hurting people? I don’t understand.’ As Teifion began to speak she went on, ‘I know I deserve his treatment of me. I married him without loving him, still loving another man. I was flattered by his attention and he’s still an attractive man – and wealthy. I thought I’d make it a success. I really intended to do everything I could to make him happy.’
‘And in the process made yourself very miserable,’ Teifion said. ‘He’s my father, so I automatically disliked you, took his side when he complained about the trivial things he thought of as personal attacks, but I’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that you deserved better.’
‘Thank you,’ she said tearfully.
When they reached Badgers Brook, Meriel was listening to a Glenn Miller recording on the wireless, there was a freshly baked loaf on the table and a pot of rabbit stew simmering on the hob. Frieda felt the weight of misery lifted from her as she sat near the fire while Meriel set extra places at the table.
They talked about many things but not at all about George. Frieda told them stories about her time in the dance hall and they discussed their favourite music, then Frieda’s eyes became heavy and when Teifion had gone to make his apologies to Betty Connors, Meriel and Lucy made up a bed. Frieda fell asleep as soon as she closed her eyes.
The following morning, after hearing about the illness of his old adversary, Walter drove to the hospital to see him. George kept him waiting for twenty minutes then told him he could only spare five minutes as he had his solicitor coming to discuss something important.
‘Cutting your wife and son out of your will, are you? Leaving your money to a cat’s home?’
‘What I do with my money isn’t your business, Walter Evans! You need to take care of your own affairs. No,’ he said, his dark eyes glinting with what could have been pleasure but Walter thought more likely to be malice. ‘I’ve written a letter and I want to make sure it goes to the right person if I should die before I can deliver it myself. It’s time the truth came out.’
Without another word, Walter turned on his heels, threw the fruit he had brought towards the sick man and stormed towards the door. ‘Do what you wish, George, but nothing will help. You ruined your life. Not me. No one else can be blamed however hard you try. Your mess and misery is all down to you! How can you even think of creating more?’
A nurse stood up from the desk and hurried towards Walter. ‘Please, this is a hospital, I have to ask you to leave.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m going. This man is poisoning the air, as he’s tried to poison everything else.’ The agitated nurse followed him to the exit and closed the doors after him. George Dexter clearly wasn’t a man blessed with many friends, she thought with some surprise. Such a charming man, and handsome too.
Frieda woke completely refreshed, and hungry. There were eggs from the farm, illegal of course, but better tasting for that. Boiled eggs followed by rounds of toast and jam was the best meal she’d had in ages, she told them, as she poured herself a second cup of tea.
‘You go off to your office and if I may, I’ll stay here today and relax. There’s something very calming about this house, isn’t there?’ Putting her cup and saucer on a small table she sat on the couch and slid down among the cushions and was asleep again before Meriel and Lucy left the house. Rascal hopped up beside her and resting his chin on her feet, slept too.
At the office, Meriel opened the post and read out a letter asking them to organize another auction. The letter was from the man they had worked for a few weeks previously, Mr Lewen.
‘Yippee,’ Meriel said inelegantly, dancing around the room.
‘Well done you,’ Lucy said, taking her hands and dancing with her.
‘Well done us,’ Meriel said as the door opened and they tried to behave more soberly.
‘Is this a party? Can I come?’ her father asked with a huge smile. ‘Good news?’
‘Dadda, it’s another large auction, the same people as before. Farm and contents. It seems farmers are being offered high prices for building land and the government needs more houses, so approval is readily given.’
‘Many farmers are selling because their sons are refusing to follow them,’ Lucy remarked. ‘Some blame the war years followed by two years’ National Service which has apparently unsettled them, shown them a wider world and offered greater choices.’
‘Still, it means business for us,’ Meriel said, ‘and I can’t pretend to be sorry.’
‘Well done you two. Wait till I tell your mother! We’re so proud of you both. Would you like to borrow Leo?’
‘Yes please,’ Meriel said at once. ‘I mean, only if you can spare him.’
Walter chuckled. ‘From what he’s been telling me, he won’t need much persuading.’
Martha had become a regular visitor to Badgers Brook and she came on the day Frieda was staying. Meriel and Lucy were starting to prepare a meal for a still-sleepy Frieda when there was a rather timid knock at the door. ‘Martha,’ Meriel whispered and went to invite her in. She had brought a bag of rather squashed cakes and, as she hoped, was invited to stay.
It was Lucy she usually spent most time with, talking about hairdressing and fashion, but when she learned that Frieda had been a singer with a dance band she transferred her attention to her. Her blue eyes were round with wonder as she coaxed Frieda to tell her about life behind the scenes, laughing in disbelief when she was told that it was quite hard work.
‘What a fabulous way to spend your life, being an entertainer,’ she uttered admiringly. ‘I wish I had a talent.’
‘Everyone has a talent, even if it isn’t one of the most talked about,’ Frieda told her, amused by the girl’s intensity. ‘What’s wrong with being a successful shop assistant, knowing your stock thoroughly and being able to help and advise your customers? I wouldn’t have the patience you need for work like that.’
‘Selling is only a job.’
‘So is singing when you’ve done it for a long time. Everything becomes routine after a while.’ She was lying, it had been a wonderful experience and if her voice hadn’t failed she might still be up there on stage and loving it.
‘I suppose selling records was a sort of talent,’ Martha said thoughtfully. ‘I was quite good at it, getting to know the bands and singers and latest recordings, being able to find customers what they want. Sometimes they’d hum a few bars of music and ask me to identify it and usually, I could.’
‘There you are, a talent without doubt,’ Frieda agreed.
Aware of how she was trying to help the girl who was her sister, Meriel smiled and mouthed her silent thanks.
‘It was hard though,’ Martha went on, ‘father not allowing us to have a wireless and forbidding me to play my records.’
‘You mean you didn’t hear all the latest tunes at home, yet managed to keep up with the latest? That’s impressive.’
When the girl had gone, Frieda asked why a wireless had been forbidden. ‘The man who is my father,’ Meriel said, her usual way of referring to William Roberts-Price, ‘is rather strict. Afraid of anything that might lead his daughter into trouble. Dancing would never be allowed.’
‘Can’t we do anything?’
Meriel looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I suppose we could try.’
They went together to the rooms behind the bakery and at once asked Mr and Mrs Roberts-Price if they would have any objection to them renting a wireless for their daughter. ‘She’s extremely knowledgeable about music, both popular and classical,’ Meriel told them as they gazed at her in shock. ‘And a great asset when she worked on the record counter.’
‘She should be encouraged,’ Frieda added. ‘Did you know she tried to get her job back? The vacancy you made her create has unfortunately been filled. Such a waste of your daughter’s talent, her replacement is nowhere near as clever. There are other shops though and I think I might persuade one of them to give her a trial.’ She smiled and added, ‘I was in the music business myself, you see, and I still have friends in high places.’
The man had been struggling to speak but each time, either Meriel or Frieda stopped him. Finally he raised a protesting hand and said, ‘We do not wish our daughter to be involved in anything like this. She is settled in the shoe shop and the manager reports that her behaviour is excellent.’
‘Good behaviour is what you hope for from criminals,’ Frieda said sadly, ‘not young girls who’ve done nothing wrong.’
The man stood up and walked towards the door. ‘Thank you for calling. I’ll bear in mind what you say.’
‘We’ve been dismissed like naughty children outside the headmaster’s study,’ Frieda whispered, choking with laughter.
‘I think it’s time I went home,‘ Frieda said a few days later. ‘I’m in control and thoroughly rested thanks to a few days with you two, but I have to try and pick up the threads of my life sometime and the longer I stay here the harder it will be to leave.’
‘Where will you go?’ Meriel asked. ‘I mean, where’s home?’
Sadly Frieda shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. Not with George – not at the moment anyway, not till we’ve talked and I’ve made a few promises, he’s made that clear. I don’t want to go back to my sister, Brighton is too far away. So it’s the awful house where you and I first met,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘I don’t know where Kit has gone. I’ve tried all the usual places but no one has heard from him. I’m worried that he’s got himself into trouble once more. After several prison sentences it’s very hard to start again.’
‘You can come back when you’ve sorted things out,’ Lucy told her. ‘Badgers Brook is a wonderful place to sit and think and it seems you need to do a lot of that.’
‘I have to find Kit. He’s disappeared from all the usual places. George promised him some money to get him started, you see. Enough for a few weeks’ rent on a room, some clothes, an opportunity to get himself a job so he won’t be tempted to do anything illegal. If he stays away from the area where he’s known, where his so-called friends tempt him with offers of “just-one-more-job”, he stands a good chance of staying out of trouble.’
‘Then that explains it, he’s getting a new life and as soon as he’s settled he’ll contact you.’
‘Maybe.’ She sounded doubtful. ‘I have to find him, make sure George did what he promised. Then, once George is out of hospital I’ll do what I agreed and go back home and this time, play the part of the dutiful wife.’
‘He’s expecting you to go back then?’ Lucy said. ‘He implied to Teifion that you and he are separated.’
‘He blusters, but he wouldn’t be able to face the failure of us separating. So many people would love to see our marriage fail. Considering he’s a man who enjoys spreading unpleasant gossip he has a morbid dread of being at the receiving end!’
Meriel had a word with Lucy then offered to go with her to see Kit. Frieda drove and when they pulled up outside the rundown building Meriel wondered what they would find inside. The place had an eerie feel as they opened the ill-fitting front door and stepped inside.
The stairs were uncarpeted but had been scrubbed clean, the air was sweeter than expected and she saw, as they passed, that several doors had been recently painted and bore name plates. The tenants were more particular than the landlord, she guessed.
They went through a door bearing the name Martin, and Meriel was even more surprised when she entered a comfortable, albeit a sparsely furnished, room. There was a fire laid ready to light in the polished grate and two armchairs stood facing it. A wind-up gramophone stood in a corner with a sliding pile of records beside it. There were two gas lights sprouting from the walls but each had a broken mantle. A glass lay smashed in a corner lying in a puddle of its contents.
Evidence of a struggle immediately became apparent, A kicked-in door led to a bedroom and when they went inside they saw the bed tipped up and its cover ripped, a wardrobe door hanging on its hinges, a table on its side in a corner with drawers emptied onto the floor.
‘What’s happened?’ Meriel gasped. A small kitchen led out from the living room and with bated breath they pushed open the door and peered in, but it was empty, the solitary cupboard was apparently untouched, its neatly stacked contents visible through the open door.
Frieda sank into a chair and said, ‘He’s had a visit – from the police probably. Either George didn’t do what he promised me, or Kit couldn’t wait and went off to do that “one more job” convinced it would give him what he needed.’
‘Come on,’ Meriel said peremptorily, ‘We have to go to the police station and find out what happened.’ Slowly Frieda did what she was bidden. It was with relief that Meriel left the building that seemed, despite the efforts of its tenants, to be bereft of all hope. To their surprise they saw a policeman walking towards the house but he was unable to help, even though Frieda gave the man’s real name. The officer stood at the corner as they drove away.
‘Is there anywhere else you can try?’ Meriel asked.
‘Only his wife and children and I refuse to cause them more distress by going to see them. I’ve hurt them enough. Can I come back with you to Badgers Brook?’
‘Of course.’
‘Tomorrow I’ll insist on talking to George. As usual, whatever trouble I find, he’s at the centre of it.’
George was feeling more able to sort out his life and the promise of a return home had him making demands in his usual manner. He sent for Teifion and sat tapping his fingers irritably while he waited for him when visiting time came round.
‘Where have you been?’ he demanded, even though his son was among the first few to walk into the ward. ‘I need to get a few things organized for when I get home.’
‘Hello, Dad, how are you feeling?’ Teifion asked sarcastically.
‘I haven’t got time for all that. Listen to me, you’ll have to go in and run the office. The boy who I employed to learn the business isn’t any use and I need you to oversee all that’s going on and report back to me. Right?’
‘No it isn’t,’ Teifion replied quietly. ‘I work for Betty Connors and I’ve no intention of letting her down. You’ll have to learn to trust the people who are employed by you. I no longer am.’
George began a long string of invective, telling Teifion how useless and stupid he was and what a failure for a son he’d had to put up with all these years. Teifion saw the nurse running towards them and he left the ward without another word. He was shaking and sat on a bench near the doors to the ward, from where he heard his father shouting and the nurses trying to calm him down.
As he stood to leave, one of the nurses came out. ‘If you’ll wait a few more minutes you can go back in. I think he wants to talk to you.’
As she went back through the swing doors she turned to see Teifion striding away down the corridor. When she told George that his son had gone, he demanded that they telephoned Leo Hopkins. It was against the rules but he was in such a state they did as he requested.
Teifion went to see Lucy and told her about the distressing visit and what his father had demanded.
‘He never asks. He shouts and his commands are interspersed with reminders of my stupidity and uselessness. Why should I help him?’
‘What will you do?’ Lucy felt this was a test, both of his loyalty to his father and to herself, aware that he had information about their business that George would benefit from knowing. ‘However he treats you, he is your father and the business will be yours one day, won’t it? Shouldn’t you look after it for those reasons?’
‘I’m staying at the Ship and Compass with Betty, and in between, if you still want me and trust me, I’ll come and help you and Meriel in any way I can.’
‘At least ring the hospital and ask how he is.’
He rang and the nurse came to the phone and asked him to return to the hospital as his father wished to see him. ‘Tell him I’m very sorry but I’m needed by my employer,’ he replied.
During a cold wet Sunday afternoon, allowing for the times the Roberts-Prices would be attending church, Meriel and Lucy went to the flat alongside the bakery in Bridgend and knocked on the door. There was no reply and they decided to wait.
‘They must be home soon, there’s nowhere to go on a Sunday, especially in weather like this,’ Meriel said. There were no cafes open so they stood in a doorway opposite and waited, with mackintoshes draped around them, cold, wet shoes chilling them, stockings clinging to their legs, wondering how long they could stand the discomfort.
They saw Martha’s parents coming and stepped out. Martha wasn’t with them. Before her husband could speak, her mother said, ‘Oh, just look at the state of you both! Come in and let us dry you off.’
‘Where’s Martha?’ Meriel asked.
‘Not very well, she has a nasty cold, as you will too if you don’t get yourself warmed.’
‘We seem to be suffering with the same thing,’ Mr Roberts-Price added as he searched for his key. ‘We had to leave the meeting we were attending much earlier than planned.’
‘Come in quietly if you will,’ his wife whispered. ‘If she’s sleeping I’d rather not wake her.’
To their surprise the sounds of a popular cowboy song greeted them as the door softly opened. Immediately Mr Roberts-Price began to run up the stairs but Meriel held him with a hand on his arm. He looked outraged but his wife pleaded with him to stay. Their daughter was singing along to a record, her thin, reedy voice attempting an American accent making Meriel and Lucy grin.
‘I’m an old cow-hand, from the Rio Grande—’
Slowly they went up the stairs and peered through the door. They listened as the record ended and heard Martha’s now unaccompanied voice singing ‘Yippy I oke I aye – yip yip yip – yippy I oke I aye.’ Pushing the door slightly they could see her dancing around, wearing an ancient hat and drumming an imaginary guitar. Meriel glanced at the couple who were her parents and slowly, oh so slowly they began to smile.
They crept back down the stairs, breath held as though to prevent the wood creaking, and noisily opened and closed the front door.
‘We’re back, Martha, we seem to have a cold too so we came back a little early. Meriel and Lucy are here.’
Meriel and Lucy called up the stairs and took a long time removing their sodden coats and shoes while above, a scuffle suggested that Martha was putting her records out of sight.
‘We heard singing as we came in,’ Martha stared as her father spoke, afraid to reply. To her disbelief, he went on, ‘It sounded very good, and such a cheerful tune. Perhaps you’ll sing it for us sometime?’
Like a child threatened with a hiding, Martha looked at her mother, who said, ‘Yes dear, we were really impressed. First Meriel and Lucy, and then Frieda telling us we have a talented daughter, we must try to find you a more suitable job than selling shoes, it’s such a waste of your talents.’
Meriel and Lucy didn’t stay long, happy to leave Martha and her parents to talk. They promised to ask Frieda to try and persuade one of the music stores to give her a job, convinced that the girl’s reputation would have gone before her. They reached Badgers Brook as the dull day had turned into a dark evening but the weather couldn’t deaden the excitement and hope they felt for Martha’s future.
Frieda tried all the most likely places in her search for Kit Keys. In despair she went to the hospital to see George.
‘Of course I didn’t send him any money,’ he told her. ‘I wrote to him though, telling him what a disgusting apology for a man he was, treating his wife like a chattel and me like a fool. And you – like the tart you are.’
‘Where is he?’ she asked, her voice trembling with fear and dread.
‘In prison facing a charge of aggravated burglary. He insisted he was innocent, that it was a frame, isn’t that what they call it, your criminal friends?’
She went to the police station and asked to see him but she was told it was impossible at present. Offering to stand bail for him, she was told that it would almost certainly be denied. Tearfully, she returned once again to Badgers Brook.
It was with curiosity and some trepidation that Leo went to see George. He was sitting in a chair beside his bed, holding a pile of papers on which he was scribbling notes and instructions for his anxious assistant who stood beside him.
‘You wanted to see me, Mr Dexter. I can spare you ten minutes.’ Leo refused to be treated like the young man who stood nervously beside him.
‘Two will do!’ He searched among his papers and handed Leo a sealed letter. Private and personal for Mr Walter Evans. It’s an apology. I want him to have it about six next Sunday evening, when he can share the moment with his wife.’
Leo thanked him and went out. In the corridor he stopped and stared at the envelope. Could the man really be saying he was sorry for the distress he’d caused? It was very unlikely. He toyed with the idea of steaming it open and reading it but knew it would be impossible to disguise the fact and besides, he had no right to interfere. Thoughtfully he put it in his pocket. Perhaps George has been told his health was giving concern and he wanted to settle things while he still had time, he mused. But an apology from George Dexter to Walter Evans? That still sounded unconvincing.
In the ward, George took out an identical envelope and handed it to his assistant. ‘This one must go to Miss Meriel Evans at Evans and Calloway, he said. There was a glint in his eye as he handed it over. ‘Deliver it to Badgers Brook at six next Sunday evening, when they can savour it at leisure. Keep it safe, mind, and don’t show it to anyone else.’
Teifion rang the hospital daily to enquire about his father’s progress but didn’t visit. He continued to work at the Ship doing much more than he needed to do, keeping busy in an attempt to stop thinking about his father. Between the shifts at the pub he helped Meriel and Lucy, grateful that they trusted him with the details of their day-to-day dealings and even occasionally taking his advice.
‘If only the shadow of my father weren’t there threatening to do what he can to ruin everything, I’d be completely happy,’ he said to Lucy as they sat in the office drinking tea and enjoying a cake brought in by Kitty and Bob. ‘I don’t want him to disappear, I just want him to accept that my life is with you and—’ he hesitated and stared at her. ‘Lucy, our friendship, our affection for each other has travelled a rocky road, but it’s brought us to this happy moment.’
‘Yes, Teifion, we are happy, aren’t we?’
‘We could be even happier. Lucy, you know I love you. Can you forget my father and all that’s gone before and marry me?’ She stared at him but didn’t reply and he went on. ‘I’m not after a share in your business, I’m content to stay at the Ship and help here when I can. I don’t want anything from my father. Frieda, or whoever he chooses to give it to, can have it all. I have enough money to give us a start and somehow we can find a place of our own where we can create an atmosphere as peaceful as Badgers Brook and be blissfully content. Will you marry me?’
They were still wrapped in each other’s arms when Meriel returned and words were unnecessary, their eyes said it all.
The following day Teifion spoke to Lucy again. Meriel and Leo were included in their discussion and their plans were made.
Leo didn’t wait until the Sunday evening to hand the letter to Walter. It seemed to be burning against his skin, so worried was he about what it might contain. He showed it to Walter on Saturday, explained George’s instructions and after a brief hesitation Walter took it and broke it open.
Leo left him to it and went to his desk in the outer office but a loud wail startled him and he ran in. ‘Here, you might as well read it,’ Walter said and Leo, seeing his white, shocked face and trembling hands, took the pages of writing and led the distressed man to a chair.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘Shall I ring Lynne to come? Or shall I drive you home?’
‘Read it.’
It wasn’t very long, barely two pages in George’s scrawling handwriting. It stated coldly that he, George, had been Lynne’s lover before she had married Walter who was then, and always would be, second best. Amid the blustering and boasting, Leo gathered that when Lynne became pregnant she had begged George for his help but he had refused to marry her and face sniggers about wedding dates and birth dates. Instead he had forced her to have an abortion.
‘Lynne became very ill,’ Walter said. ‘Her parents weren’t told and she stayed with her Auntie Gladys May. George showed no concern, or even enquired about her.’
‘Was the – the operation – the reason your wife couldn’t have a child?’ he asked.
‘Operation? A backstreet butcher more like.’
‘What I don’t understand,’ Leo said with a frown, ‘is why he’s sending you this letter if you already knew about it? What could be his reason if it isn’t to upset you?’ Then he jumped out of his chair and the two men stared at each other in horror.
‘Meriel! He’s written to Meriel too!’
‘You go to Lynne and stay with her in case she’s had a letter,’ Leo said. ‘I’ll drive to find Meriel and if there’s a letter I’ll stop her opening it.’
‘How will you do that?’ Walter stared at Leo like a trusting child.
‘I don’t know how but I will.’
George’s assistant was going out for the day on Sunday and, hoping his employer wouldn’t find out, he delivered the letter to the office on Saturday morning. Like her father, Meriel opened it at once, ignoring his request to wait until the following evening. She stared at the pages in disbelief and Lucy ran to see what was wrong.
‘It’s about my mother, Lynne I mean. Before she and Dadda married, she was expecting a baby and George Dexter was the father. He says she adored him so much that when he asked her to have an abortion she agreed, and—’ she threw the hated letter towards Lucy, locked herself in the kitchen and howled.
When she had read the letter Lucy called through the door. ‘Meriel, it says at the end he’s sent a similar letter to your parents, shouldn’t you go to them? They’ll need you there. You must go to them. We’ll close the office and I’ll come too but I’ll stay out of the way while you talk,’ All this through a closed door and with no response from her friend. Foolishly and almost without thought, she knocked on the door insisting she needed to make some tea. The door opened and a tearful Meriel stood there. After a brief hug, Lucy filled the kettle and set the tray for tea. Making tea in a crisis, she decided, was something to do with your hands, and a pretence that you’re helping when there’s no way of helping at all.
They drank a cup of tea as though it was expected of them and set off. ‘I’ll drive,’ Lucy said. ‘I’m the calmest.’
‘No! ’ Meriel snatched the keys from Lucy’s hand and strode out, leaving Lucy to lock up. She drove carefully through the town but when she reached the open countryside she pressed harder on the accelerator and drove wide as they reached left-hand corners better to see ahead. Lucy gripped her seat and prayed.
Walter insisted on going with Leo, and when Leo offered to drive, Walter refused. He wasn’t capable of just sitting. He needed to see Meriel and to do that had to get himself there; this wasn’t a moment to rely on someone else, even someone as involved as Leo.
The weather was brighter and this had brought out a few more motorists. He tapped his fingers irritably on the steering wheel every time he had to pause at a junction or wait while a car manoeuvred into a parking spot. Leo warned him not to be impatient. ‘We need to get there fast, but still in one piece,’ he reminded him. His words were ignored and as soon as they were past the hazard Walter increased his speed.
As the road narrowed, a cyclist appeared from a rough track and Walter had to swerve to avoid hitting him. Leo pointed to a lay-by a bit further on and told Walter to pull in. ‘I really think it’s best if I drive,’ he said and to his relief Walter agreed.
It was as they were changing seats that a car approached and slowed to pass them. Joyfully, they recognized the driver. ‘Meriel! ’ they called as her brakes squealed and she began to reverse back to them.
‘We have to talk about George’s latest bombshell. Lynne mustn’t know about the letters. Some secrets should never be told,’ Walter called.
‘How did you know I’d received a letter?’
‘I guessed how his devious mind works. George gave a copy to Leo to deliver to me and I read it today.’
‘Leo? You delivered the letter from George Dexter and didn’t check it before giving it to Dadda?’
‘He said it was an apology.’
Without another word she slipped into gear and drove away.
They were facing the opposite direction and it took a while before they could turn and set off to catch her up.
Walter ignored Leo’s plea to drive and set off in pursuit, cutting corners, overtaking dangerously until at last they saw her in the distance. The road went downhill then up and they could see her about halfway up the other side. Walter increased speed as they went down to gather speed for the rise and were soon close on her tail. He flashed lights and sounded the horn to persuade her to stop but she ignored him.
Lucy was frightened. Meriel was crying and with tears in her eyes she must surely lack the ability to make high-speed decisions? It was when they took a sharp corner that she lost control. Fortunately she’d slowed to take the blind turning but unable to straighten up in time for the double bend she ploughed off the road and into some bushes. Branches slowed the car’s descent into the field below until it was standing on its bonnet among greenery. Lucy reached across and turned off the engine. The silence after the chase had a sort of dream quality.
Stiffly, amazed to find they were unharmed, they struggled out of the car and stared around them. Again, like part of a dream sequence, voices reached them and they heard rustling accompanying the voices as Walter and Leo scrambled down to reach them.
Cries of relief and hugs and halting explanations followed before they were helped back up on to the road. The got into Walter’s Hillman, Leo sat in the driving seat with no question of anyone disagreeing. Walter sat in the back with Meriel, holding her as though he would never let her go, and a still shaking Lucy sat beside Leo.
Lucy gestured back the way they had come, reporting that there was a café on the main road they were approaching. Turning the car cautiously, Leo headed in the direction they had come. They parked outside the large café, where a line of lorries stood, their crews taking a welcome break, but they didn’t all go in. Leo went to use the telephone and report an accident, and a few murmured voices around him made him aware that he’d been overheard. He assured them that no one was hurt, and the car was off the road and causing no hazard to other drivers.
‘This isn’t the place to talk about what’s happened,’ he said, when he went back to the car. ‘I suggest we drive back to Badgers Brook.’ Without questioning his decision, that was what they did.
Strangely there didn’t seem much to say once they were settled in the living room with the fire burning and food prepared. George had done his worst and they had survived. Sadly, Leo was aware that Meriel was avoiding him, refusing to look at him and ignoring him when he spoke. She was angry with him for delivering the letter, yet he’d had no alternative.
‘Leo should never have shown you that letter,’ she said to her father when they were temporarily alone. ‘Anything from George Dexter was bound to have meant trouble. He must have known that.’
‘Leo will always be honest and he had no right to keep a letter addressed to me. I’d think less of him if he had. So would you if you’d think about it.’
Teifion arrived at ten thirty having been told Lucy and Meriel had been involved in an accident. In the way of small towns, someone had heard it from someone, who’d met a lorry driver who had been in the café and had recognized Meriel and Lucy in the car.
He was relieved to see neither girl was hurt, but insisted they had a fire lit in their bedrooms and hot water bottles between their sheets. He and Leo dealt with these comforts to the silent amusement of Walter.
‘I don’t want your mother to know about the letters,’ he said. ‘There’s been too much agony caused already by looking back. It was a terrible time for her but it’s been overlaid with so much happiness that it no longer matters.’
Meriel handed him a box of matches and together they set the letters on fire, held them until the flames caught hold, then dropped them into the grate where they smouldered until they were no more than black ashes.
Walter went to see George the following day. He was sitting up in bed and smiled maliciously as Walter approached his bed. A nurse watched anxiously from the table in the middle of the ward.
‘Was it worth it, George?’ Walter began.
‘I’ve always hated you,’ George replied. ‘You took what should have been mine.’
‘I loved her, you wanted to possess.’
‘You stole her, tempted her when she was at her most vulnerable.’
‘What a fine state you’re in.’ Walter’s voice was deep with apparent sympathy and the nurse relaxed. ‘All alone, your son preferring to work in a pub than run your business, no longer wanting to be a part of your life.’
‘I was a strong father and he couldn’t take it.’
‘You were controlling and critical. Unable to hide your disappointment that he didn’t grow up into a carbon copy of you.’
‘Shut up!’
‘My darling daughter was given freedom to grow. She didn’t live with resentment and disappointment, she was nurtured with love.’
‘Love is for weaklings.’
‘Is that why you have a wife who can’t live in the same house as you?’
‘She let me down as you well know!’
‘You’ve neglected them both, spending too much of your energy seeking revenge for something that didn’t happen, something out of your imagination. That’s why your life is such a mess.’
‘I’ve told Meriel everything! See how well your love will deal with that! She has a letter too.’
‘I know,’ Walter replied. ‘We burned them together on the fire at Badgers Brook.’
After he’d gone George demanded his clothes and insisted on signing himself out.
Meriel and Lucy began making preparations for the farm sale. They designed posters and ordered copies, they visited the place and made lists of the items to be included, and all the time, Meriel wondered how she would cope when she met her mother, knowing what she knew. Would she be able to hide that knowledge from her and act normally? Or would the secret show on her face? Lucy reassured her several times then ignored her worries, knowing her words weren’t needed. But she was aware of her friend’s anxiety and tried to think of a way to help. One morning as they opened the door to see Kitty and Bob waving, then later, had a visit from Stella bringing a few cakes she had made, the idea came.
‘Let’s have a party. That’s always the best way to deal with something like this. It will be good to fill the house with friends, and an opportunity for you and your parents to put George and his wicked letters behind you.’
Meriel put aside the notes she was making in her neat hand and nodded. ‘Let’s make it a week next Sunday. Something special to celebrate then, eh?’
‘Fantastic! What about your other parents? Won’t Sunday be a difficult day for them?’
‘We’ll invite them and leave it up to them.’ Sales business put aside, they at once began to make new lists of things they needed to do, people they wanted to invite. Lucy was relieved to see her friend was more animated than she had been for several days.
‘We won’t invite Gerald and my first move must be to tell him I’m going to marry Teifion,’ she said. In fact Gerald had already heard the news from Teifion.
He and Gerald had met in the Ship, where Teifion was serving at the bar. Gerald approached him rather diffidently and asked, ‘Is Lucy well?’
‘That’s a formal query about a friend of many years.’ Teifion stared at him curiously. ‘Unless you heard about the accident she and Meriel had a few days ago?’
Gerald coughed in an embarrassed way, aware he had never bothered to find out if they were safe. ‘I had heard,’ he admitted, ‘but working in Cardiff and being so busy,’ he let the words fall and Teifion stared at him in disgust.
‘To think that she might have married you. What a disaster that would have been.’
‘Lucy will marry me and when the time is right I’ll ask her. She’ll be happy being the wife of a successful salesman.’
‘You’re too late, she’s going to marry me.’ Teifion handed him his drink, snatched the money from the bar and walked away. Gerald sipped his drink nonchalantly. Plenty more women about and he really deserved better than Lucy. She really wasn’t the type to fit the new, exciting life that was opening up for him.
George was back in the office but finding it hard. He was constantly tired yet was unable to sleep. Frieda had phoned offering help but had been told to stay away, so she continued to live at Badgers Brook, helping by cleaning and cooking for the two friends; a fact that increased his anger.
His assistant did all he could to please him at work and his housekeeper made things comfortable for him at home but once she had gone the hours dragged by in utter loneliness, although he still refused to admit the loneliness was of his own making. He thought about Walter, Lynne and Meriel and wished he could think of a way to destroy their happiness. Between them they had ruined his. This was a distortion of the facts, but his weary mind believed it utterly.
One Saturday morning, Meriel and Lucy dressed with extra care but they didn’t go into the office. Leaving a happy Kitty and Bob in charge, they set off in Teifion’s car, their own still being under repair, and headed for Cardiff buzzing with excitement.
They pulled up at the register office and an excited threesome stepped out. Leo and his mother were waiting for them and they went inside. Half an hour later, Mr and Mrs Teifion Dexter emerged and they all drove back to Badgers Brook.
Lucy and Teifion had discussed their plans with Meriel and all had agreed that with Lucy’s family so indifferent and George being so unreasonable and likely to spoil the day, it was best to arrange a small ceremony with as few people as possible being told.
They were negotiating to buy a small terraced house not far from the High Street and had arranged for its decoration. Until then, they would take a room in the bed and breakfast establishment belonging to Betty’s brother and his wife.
Betty Connors had left to open the Ship but she had given them a wedding cake and several plates of sandwiches and some tiny decorated cakes. Frieda had set everything out and with Kitty and Bob joining them when the office closed at one o’clock, the simple celebratory meal took place. The small wedding cake was cut to enable a photograph to be taken but otherwise untouched, intended for the party on the following day when the news would become public.
George heard the news via his assistant who had heard it at the post office, Stella Jones being the recipient of all that went on in Cwm Derw. Ignoring the pain that had settled in his chest, he went to the garage and started the car. He drove towards Badgers Brook without any clear idea of what he intended.
He reached the turning, slowing down as a bus lumbered past, then without waiting to see whether his way was clear, he swerved into the lane. A car was approaching and he braked suddenly, his heart racing with the shock of it. He pulled up onto the grass verge near the gate, turned off the engine and heard laughter and music coming from the house. Anger consumed him and he sat there unable to decide what he could do. He wanted to tell Teifion what he thought of him for arranging his wedding in secret, and he tried to prepare what he would say, but the words wouldn’t come.
Teifion and Lucy were the first to leave, intending to visit George and tell him what they had done. They walked to the gate shrugging on their coats with confetti falling from their clothes and laughing in sheer happiness and stopped as they saw George sitting in his car on the grass verge.
Apprehensively Teifion tapped on the window. ‘Dad?’ he shouted. He called again but George didn’t respond.
When Teifion opened the door he realized his father was dead.
They ran back inside and Leo drove to the phone box to call the doctor, the police also came and the day which had started out in happiness and joyful expectation, ended in guilt, grief and sadness. Amid all the regrets and recriminations Teifion said, ‘He even had to spoil today for me.’ And was immediately ashamed.
The idea of a party on the following day was abhorrent and they left messages to let people know it was cancelled. Sunday passed in a series of visitors all wanting to tell Teifion how sorry they were. Most referred obliquely to the loss of his father, the comments were regret for his ruined wedding day.
Walter and Lynne came and offered sincere congratulations to the couple, bringing some beautiful bedding as a wedding gift for when they moved into their home. Meriel greeted her mother with the same affection, momentarily forgetting George’s final spiteful act. He had done his worst and they had survived.
To their surprise Mr and Mrs Roberts-Price came with Martha and their soldier son, Noah. No one had thought to tell them the party had been cancelled. They stayed and shared their meal, offering sympathy to Teifion, shaking hands nervously with Walter and Lynne, then departed. Martha managed to have a word with Lucy to tell her she had her job back, and was allowed to keep her gramophone and was happy.
The will reading was awaited with bated breath after the sombre funeral had taken place. Teifion was expecting nothing and beside him Frieda sat expecting the same. A bitter man to the end, they knew George had undoubtedly willed away his money and business to some obscure relative or to a charity, as he had threatened many times.
The solicitor attended the funeral which took place at George’s home with tea and sandwiches provided by his housekeeper as he had requested. Afterwards he called Teifion and Frieda into another room.
The will was very brief and surprising.
‘The business is left to my son, Teifion, for him to run or to sell as he wishes,’ the man read. ‘My house is for my wife Frieda and all monies remaining after all accounts are settled will be divided between them.‘
‘I won’t take your home,’ Frieda said at once, putting a hand on her stepson’s arm. ‘It’s your home and should always be yours.’
‘Of course not! Thank you for such a wonderfully kind thought but I would never take it. It’s yours and you can sell it and buy yourself a place where you’ll be happy.’ Lucy hugged her, agreeing with her husband.
‘What will you do?’ Lucy asked Teifion.
Would he take over his father’s business and compete with Evans and Calloway? she wondered.
‘Sell it of course,’ he said. ‘My loyalties are with you.’
Meriel, Teifion and Lucy walked back to the office where once again a proud Kitty and Bob had been left in charge. The place had been closed as a mark of respect but Kitty was delighted to tell them there had been two phone calls and one caller to whom she had given some leaflets and allowed to leave a name and an address. ‘George Dexter would have understood,’ she defended.
Things began to settle down and, with Lucy no longer living there, Meriel was glad to have Frieda staying. When she eventually left, Badgers Brook would seem very empty. A week later, Frieda announced that she was going to stay with her sister. ‘Not a cover for meeting Kit this time. I really am going to Brighton,’ she said wryly.
Meriel sat in her dressing-gown, stoking up the fire and making the flames dance around the walls. The dancing reflections peopled the room with a pretence of company but did nothing to expel her loneliness. When there was a knock at the door she leapt up to answer it, thankful for a visitor to fill a few minutes.
‘Hello, Meriel,’ Leo said. He didn’t walk in but stood there, the lights playing shadows across his face so she failed to read his expression.
‘Well?’ she demanded peremptorily, unwilling to show how pleased she was to see him. ‘Are you coming in?’
‘No, you are coming out,’ he said.
‘What, dressed like this?’ she opened her arms to display her dressing-gown.
‘If you wish, although I’d prefer you wore something more suitable.’
‘Suitable for what? Where are you intending to take me?’
‘Through the woods to watch the badgers. We’ve just got time to test the wind and find a suitable place to sit.’
Bemused she changed into trousers and dark coat and they walked across the lane and into the dark trees. He took her hand and occasionally shone a torch to guide her until they were sitting on a low branch some distance from where the badgers had trodden their path across the brook.
An hour later, having seen about eight badgers set off on their nightly foraging trip; chasing, mock-fighting, happy to be free to wander, he took her into his arms and said, ‘I’ve always loved you and waited for you to love me. Now, despite your occasional huffs—’
‘I don’t huff,’ she protested.
His teeth glistened as he smiled in the darkness and he said, ‘In spite of your occasional “huffs”, I now think you do. Marry me.’
‘I don’t know, there’s so much to arrange and—’
He silenced her with a kiss.
She laughed, hugging him so close, feeling so good in his arms, utterly content. ‘It seems I have a very determined man in my life so what can I say? Except, yes.’