Past Remembering (19 page)

‘Feel like a walk in the park?’ Diana asked, as she waylaid Wyn outside their New Theatre shop.

‘You got time before Billy needs feeding?’

‘Half an hour. We need to talk and we can never do that at home.’

They walked down Taff Street and turned into the lane alongside Woolworth’s. A few steps took them across the bridge that spanned the river, and they were instantly surrounded by green lawns and vegetable beds. Shunning the main thoroughfare and children’s playground where they were more likely to meet people they knew, they headed towards the dry-stone walls of the sunken garden, the town’s memorial to the men who hadn’t returned from the Great War. Looking out over the heart-shaped enclosure and seeing it was deserted, Wyn pushed the pram down the stone ramp. The raised flowerbeds were resplendent with the paintbox colours of budding tulips, daffodils and violets, but neither of them wanted to linger. Instead, by tacit agreement they directed their steps towards a bench at the far end.

‘It was only a matter of time before Tony came home on leave.’ Diana reached across one of the armrests that divided the bench into individual seats and tucked her fingers into the crook of Wyn’s elbow.

‘I should have realised. I just never thought about him.’

‘Why should you? Everything’s been turned upside down by the war. We’ve had far more important things to worry about than Tony Ronconi.’

‘Because he was away I allowed myself to forget him. It was a stupid thing to do.’

‘It was the right thing to do. Tony is nothing to do with us.’

‘Didn’t you see the way he looked at Billy? He knows.’

‘Suspects, maybe; there’s no way he could possibly know for certain. And Tony coming back makes no difference to the way I feel about you, or our marriage.’ She meant what she said, but for the first time since she had married Wyn she was unable to meet his eye. She pretended to study a trail of ivy cascading over the wall behind his head as he looked from her to the baby.

‘Nothing can alter the fact that he is Billy’s father.’

‘Father!’ She turned an indignant face to his. ‘How can he be? Where was Tony when I was in labour? You, not Tony, held my hand and helped Bethan to deliver him, and he wasn’t the one who got up night after night when Billy needed feeding, or comforting when he had colic. He hasn’t bathed him and put him to bed every single night since he was born. No one could be more of a father to Billy than you, Wyn.’

‘Do you still love Tony?’

‘No,’ she answered decisively. ‘But I made the mistake of thinking I did. Whatever I felt for Tony ended the night he slept with me. You know, I don’t think he’s said a single word to me since – until today, that is, and then only because William was around.’ She stared down at her fine lace gloves. She’d peeled them off her hands and knotted the fingers so tightly she’d probably ruined them. ‘Wyn, you know more about me than anyone. You were the one who picked up the pieces, not once but twice. You’re the one I live with, the one I sleep beside every night.’

‘And the one who will never be a proper husband. Not the way a woman wants.’

‘I wouldn’t want any other kind.’ She shook the handle of the pram as Billy stirred. ‘We’re a family, Wyn. You’re my lifeline, my security, and not only mine, Billy’s too. Nothing can change that.’

‘Not even Tony Ronconi?’

‘Especially not Tony Ronconi.’ She laid her hand over his as she left the bench. ‘Come on, time we got our son home for his feed.’

He tried to return her smile, but he felt as though the first cracks had appeared in the fragile life they had built for themselves. Cracks rooted in lies that could tear the whole fabric of their marriage apart.

Saturday proved to be a long day in the Tumble café, and by the time Ronnie had closed the doors, washed the floor and furniture and locked up, it was an hour into Sunday morning. Apart from a short visit to Megan, Tina and William had scarcely emerged from the upstairs room. Their disappearance had given rise to a lot of ribald comment, but Tina had categorically refused to move out into Laura’s.

Feeling more than a little sorry for himself, Ronnie hobbled up the blacked-out hill trying to ignore the pain in his leg. Turning the key in the door of Laura’s house he walked down the passage without bothering to switch on the light, to find Tony sitting by firelight in the back kitchen, a bottle of whisky and a glass at his elbow.

‘Drinking alone? That’s a bad sign,’ he commented lightly.

‘I saw no point in going out. Will’s shut himself away with Tina, you’re working in the café …’

‘That’s just two of us. There’s always plenty of people in the pubs only too willing to buy returning heroes a drink.’

‘I’d rather drink alone, if it’s all the same to you.’

‘I was hoping you’d ask me to join you,’ Ronnie said as he took possession of the easy chair on the other side of the hearth.

Tony rose unsteadily to his feet, opened a cupboard and produced an extra glass. ‘I’m sorry about Maud. Gina told me what happened.’

‘Thank you, I’ve no doubt you got the full story, so can we talk about something else?’

‘What do you suggest?’

‘Anything other than death, religion and the war.’

‘How about sex and the family?’ Tony lifted the bottle and slopped a triple measure into the glass then handed it to Ronnie.

‘To us?’ Ronnie toasted, wondering what had caused his brother’s peculiar mood.

‘And victory?’

‘Wow, strong stuff’

‘The best.’

‘Where did you get it?’

‘Ask no questions …’

‘And I’ll tell you no lies, I know. You’ve been writing letters?’ he asked, seeing an envelope on the table.

‘Just one.’ Tony picked it up and stuffed it into his pocket before Ronnie could take a closer look.

‘It’s odd to be in Pontypridd and not home, isn’t it?’

‘I might go up to Birmingham at the end of the week and see Mama,’ Tony spoke thickly, slurring his words.

‘Good idea. I’d like to go myself if I have time before I start work.’

‘Gina said you were going into munitions.’

‘I only wish I was fit enough to join the army and fight, but the doctor says no way.’

‘Who says the army fights? I’ve spent most of the last year in base camp, spit, polishing and pushing useless pieces of paper from one desk to another.’

‘But you’ll soon be doing more?’

‘How do you know?’

‘A week’s leave. No one gets that long unless they’re on their way to the front.’

Tony neither confirmed nor denied Ronnie’s suspicion. Instead he reached for the bottle and refilled both their glasses, to the brim this time.

‘Last letter I had, Laura said you were courting strong.’

Tony narrowed his eyes warily. ‘When was that?’

‘Before the war.’

‘Didn’t work out. Can’t see how any soldier would want to saddle himself with a wife when he could be killed at any moment.’

‘Plenty of women are prepared to take the risk.’

‘You telling me I should get married?’

‘God forbid I should try to tell anyone how to live. All I’m saying is that I’m glad Maud took me on. I know it wasn’t quite the same thing, but when I look at Tina, Alma and Bethan none of them seem to have any regrets, or the desire to live their lives any other way.’

‘Is the lecture over?’

‘Sorry.’ Ronnie drained his glass and left his chair. ‘The last thing I want to do is intrude. I’ve promised to take over the café for Tina this week, and that means an early start tomorrow, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go on up to bed. You’ll call down the café for breakfast?’

‘Not too early.’

‘I’ll keep back something decent for you. If you dampen down the fire I’ll see to it in the morning.’

‘Don’t bother. The least I can do is take over the domestic chores.’

‘I’m taking my laundry to the Chinese place in Mill Street. If you sort yours out, I’ll pack it together with mine. The girls are too busy to do it.’

‘So I notice.’

Ronnie was tempted to say something in the girls’ defence, then he noticed Tony’s unsteady hand. Experience had taught him that one of the most useless exercises in life was arguing with a drunk.

Tony waited until Ronnie had stopped moving around upstairs. When he was certain all was quiet, he pulled the letter from his pocket, opened the envelope and reread it. All he had to do now was get it to Diana. Gina had let slip that Diana was taking over Wyn Rees’s business because he was starting work in the munitions factory on Monday. If he left the note at one of the shops Diana would get it sooner or later. Hopefully sooner. While he still had some leave left.

‘Put any more bleach in that water and you’re going to come out like Little Nell on her deathbed,’ Megan warned as she dipped a jug into the sink Myrtle had filled to rinse her hair.

‘I’ve got to get these orange streaks out of it by tomorrow.’ Myrtle lifted her head and stared at her reflection in the mirror. It was just as well she’d only met Huw in the dark since she’d started work in the factory. If he’d seen the way the TNT powder she packed into canisters had yellowed her skin and discoloured her dark hair he never would have asked her out.

‘I thought you said you were going to tea with a friend from the factory?’

‘I am.’ Myrtle crossed her fingers behind her back as she lied. ‘Moira James, she lives near Roath Park.’

‘Well if she works with you, she must have the same canary tinge. So I hardly think her family are going to think you’re odd.’

‘She’s blonde so her hair has gone green, not orange. But it’s not meeting her family that’s bothering me, it’s going to Cardiff on the train and walking through the streets afterwards. You know how people stare.’

Megan knew exactly how people stared, but most were too used to seeing munitions workers to bat an eyelid at the strange tints in their hair. She suspected that there was more behind all this bleaching and washing than Moira James’s invitation to tea. Perhaps this friend had an unmarried brother around Myrtle’s age? She hoped she had. Myrtle had sacrificed the best years of her life to looking after her father and brother; it was high time she began to spare a thought for her own future.

‘The streaks are almost out. One more wash after your bath and you’ll be as good as we can get you.’

‘You really think they’ve gone?’ Myrtle pleaded.

‘So faded no one will notice. Just don’t forget to put a good application of goose grease on your hands and face tonight. There’s nothing worse for drying out the skin than bleach.’

‘Thanks, Megan.’

Megan closed the bathroom door and walked past Wyn and Diana’s room. She’d hardly seen them all day as they had elected to spend his last free Sunday for a while in the primrose fields of Creigiau with Billy. She could hear them talking, so she called out a good-night before going into her room.

She couldn’t help mulling over the conversation she’d had with Bethan. She loved Diana with all the fierce protectiveness of a widowed parent, and Wyn’s gentle thoughtfulness had long since endeared him to her. She hoped her fears were groundless and they really were happy and would remain so, but hoping did nothing to ease her sense of disquiet. Perhaps it was time to tackle Diana, and have that mother-daughter talk she had been postponing ever since she had been released from prison.

Jenny stumbled out of the shop into the blackout and Judy Crofter.

‘Steady,’ Judy warned, ‘it doesn’t take much to knock me off my pins at this time in the morning.’

‘I would have given anything for another ten minutes in bed.’

‘You’ll get used to the hours.’

‘When? I’ve been doing this for a week now.’

‘Wait until you’ve been at it for six months. Here -’ Judy linked her arm into Jenny’s – ‘four legs are steadier than two, or so the sailor said to the prostitute.’

‘Judy!’

‘That’s nothing compared to some of the things you’ll be hearing on the factory floor now you’ve finished your training. There’s no room for prissiness in munitions. Come on, that’s our train whistling.’

Jenny clung to Judy’s arm as they pushed and shoved their way through the crowded confusion of the blacked-out station yard. Charging up to the platform, hemmed in on all sides by talking, shouting and laughing girls, she was beset by a sudden pang of terror. What was she doing? She’d led such a sheltered life. When she hadn’t liked school her parents had allowed her to leave early. The only work she had ever done had been in the shop, and that was easy enough. She’d managed her training, but what if she couldn’t cope with the actual work? What if she caused an accident? After all, she’d be dealing with shells, bombs and explosives. It wasn’t like messing up someone’s order, or leaving out a ration of butter.

‘Let’s try and sit together, so we can have a natter.’ Judy pushed Jenny down the platform away from the first carriages, which the men had commandeered and the women never entered unless shortage of standing room forced them to.

‘I’d prefer a nap.’

‘What time did you get to bed?’

‘Judging by the way I feel, too late.’

Once the doors were shut and the blinds checked by the guard the whistle blew again and the train chugged out of the station.

‘Who’s your friend, Judy?’ a voice echoed from the facing seats. Jenny was astounded that anyone could see enough to notice that she was new.

‘Jenny Griffiths, meet the gang. I would introduce you, but you’ll never sort one from another in this light.’

‘First day?’ the harsh voice enquired.

‘After training,’ Jenny qualified.

‘It’s always the worst.’

‘It’s not that bad,’ Judy asserted.

‘What do you think? Erik’s got his friend Wyn the queer into the factory.’

‘Wyn’s married.’ Jenny felt duty bound to stick up for her friend’s husband.

‘From what I hear that doesn’t mean anything.’

‘They have a baby.’

‘Doesn’t look much like Wyn Rees.’

‘You’d better not let him hear you say that, Maggie,’ Judy warned.

‘Why not? What can he do to me?’

‘Sue you,’ Jenny countered.

‘He wouldn’t dare. And I tell you something for nothing now. The foreman will be keeping an eye on him and Erik. If there’s one thing the men can’t stand, it’s pansies on the shop floor.’