Swansea Summer (3 page)

‘Why not?’

‘Because it’s something private that you have to find out for yourself.’

‘At least tell us if it hurt,’ Judy pressed, ‘and how you felt afterwards. And did Jack think any the less of you …’

‘It’s like nothing else that’s ever happened to me,’ Helen broke in hastily. More open than Lily and Katie, she had tended to discuss everything with her friends but not this. It belonged to her and Jack and no one else.

‘It must have been embarrassing to undress in front of Jack for the first time.’ Lily blushed as they turned to her. ‘I didn’t mean to put it quite like that, but I’ve often wondered how any girl could …’

‘You and Joe were practically engaged.’ Judy passed her the bottle opener.

‘We never got as far as undressing and not much beyond kissing,’ Lily confessed.

‘That doesn’t surprise me after the lecture Joe gave me when he walked in on me and Jack.’

‘He caught you?’ Judy’s eyes widened as she stared at Helen.

‘Not actually. We were dressed – sort of – but Jack was holding my underclothes.’ Helen busied herself with the bottle opener and Babycham.

‘Did Joe and Jack …’

‘Joe didn’t say a word to Jack but he said plenty to me. You should have heard him. He carried on worse than any maiden aunt. You were right to give him his ring back, Lily. I pity any girl daft enough to marry him. And as for it being embarrassing, it wasn’t. Jack did most of the undressing and it seemed right at the time.’

‘So?’ Judy poured her Babycham and settled back in a chair.

‘You’re not going to give up, are you?’ Helen asked.

‘If I had been the first, I would have told you what it’s like.’

‘I don’t know what it’ll be like for you, only Jack and me, and it was magical – and personal.’

‘Was it painful?’

‘A bit, but like the undressing it didn’t seem to matter.’

‘And?’

‘And I’m looking forward to married life. You want to know any more, talk to Brian,’ Helen said firmly.

‘In the common room.’

‘You’re staying until Sunday. Why don’t you ask Brian to borrow Marty’s bedroom?’ Helen pushed the coffee table aside and wheeled the trolley Joe had brought in into its place.

‘I’m not sure I want him to.’

‘That’s the difference between us, I wanted to.’ Hoping to change the subject, Helen opened a carrier bag and pulled out a blue satin net and cream lace layered petticoat. ‘What do you think of this?’ As Judy took it from her, she glanced at Katie and realised she had been very quiet, but then Katie never had liked talking about sex. Not even when they were twelve and had first found out about it. She wondered if she’d embarrassed Katie by saying the little she had about herself and Jack. She wouldn’t have minded a girl talking about Joe that way. At least it would prove he was human underneath the coating of self-righteous prig.

‘It’s gorgeous.’ Judy turned back the layers.

‘Matching bra and suspenders.’ Helen lifted them out and held them up for inspection.

‘They for you or Jack?’ Judy queried artfully.

‘My honeymoon present to both of us. They’re part of a new range. Alice – she’s the buyer in the warehouse – thought they’d be too fancy for most people in Swansea but I persuaded Dad to stock them and they’ve been so successful he, or rather Katie – who is the best secretary my father’s ever had according to him – had to reorder.’

‘They’re stunning. Are they still in stock, Katie? I would love a set in green …’

‘Sea-green, rose-pink, lemon and sky-blue,’ Katie recited knowledgeably, ‘and last time I looked, which was yesterday afternoon, we had a couple of sets left in each colour.’

‘Katie and I splashed out after we saw Helen’s and bought sets in pink.’ Lily handed round plates and napkins.

‘Then they’re not too dear.’

‘Depends what you mean by “dear”,’ Lily qualified. ‘The bra’s seven and six, the suspenders twelve and six but the petticoat was three pounds nineteen and eleven.’

‘Ouch.’

‘The lace is real and quality costs.’ Helen folded the petticoat and bra back into the bag.

‘That’s just what the wardrobe mistress in work says.’ Judy helped herself to a ham sandwich. ‘She’s always complaining about the cost of trimmings. She says she has to pay more for a yard of two-inch lace than thirty-six-inch-wide plain cotton.’

‘How you can envy me when you work with famous people in London, Judy, I’ll never know.’ Helen wouldn’t have switched places with Judy for all the money in Swansea but, bursting with happiness, she wanted her friends to feel just the way she did.

‘The senior make-up and hair stylists work on the famous ones. I only get the people who come in for news interviews, or extras from the dramas.’

‘But you’ll get promoted.’ Lily put a pasty and sausage roll on her plate.

‘Possibly, when I’m a hundred and twenty and on the verge of retirement,’ Judy said gloomily.

‘Come on, Judy, it can’t be that bad,’ Helen admonished.

‘I should never have gone up there.’

‘But I thought you were having a great time. Your letters …’

‘I could hardly write “Dear All in Carlton Terrace, London is a horrible, filthy city plagued by pea-soup smogs you can’t breathe in, the hostel food is worse than the pigswill that used to be left over from school dinners, the warden makes the wicked queen in
Snow White
look like a nice old granny and by the way, the job’s not up to much either. It’s bloody hard work – pardon my French – and boring. A junior make-up and hair stylist is at the beck and call of the entire department, gets the blame for every single thing that goes wrong and none of the thanks when it goes right. Love Judy. P.S. In case you haven’t guessed, I’m homesick and miserable as sin.”’

‘But after work you have Brian,’ Lily protested.

‘We barely see enough of one another to ask, “How’s it going?” I work late afternoons, evenings and every other weekend; he works shifts so we’re lucky if we get together a couple of hours a week, and as I said earlier, there’s nowhere we can go except the common rooms in the hostels, a café or, if they’re open at that time of day, the pictures. And the rest of the time I’m so bloody lonely I could cry. Sorry, swearing’s getting to be a bad habit. People I work with do it all the time.’ Reaching into her pocket for a handkerchief, Judy dabbed her eyes. ‘That’s why I want to know what it’s like, Helen. It might be different if I did have someone up there besides Brian but I don’t, and I’m terrified he’ll go off and find another girl. I thought that if I slept with him we might become closer and then he’d stop volunteering for overtime and spend more time with me.’

‘It would be fantastic if you did come back.’ Katie was almost in tears herself.

‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me since I left Swansea and I had to come back to hear it.’ Judy hugged Katie as she moved next to her on the sofa. ‘I talked it over with my mother earlier. She said if I do come back, she’ll open another salon and let me run it for her. I would have to answer to her, but she wouldn’t be there day to day, so it would almost be like being my own boss. And there’s you three. You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed you.’ She hugged Katie again. ‘And our talks and nights out together. In London I even go to the pictures by myself if Brian’s not free on my night off. People there are too stuck up to give you the time of day. I thought before I went I’d make friends, but outside of Brian I hardly know a soul, certainly no one I can talk to beyond saying, “nice weather” or “it’s raining again”.’

‘Does Brian want to come back too?’ Helen demolished the pasty on her plate in two bites.

‘I doubt it. All he can talk about is his new job and promotion prospects.’

‘So what are you going to do?’ Lily asked.

‘Some hard thinking over the weekend.’

‘So it’s Brian and London or Swansea and your own salon.’

‘You make it sound simple, Helen. But it’s more complicated than that. There’s my pride for one thing. I hate the thought of coming back here tagged with failure after barely a month.’

‘Sounds more like common sense if you’re that unhappy, unless you really love Brian and don’t want to leave him.’ Lily took the fresh bottle of Babycham Helen handed her.

‘That’s just it, I’m not sure whether I love him or not but I thought that if we made love …’

‘He’s trying to push you into it,’ Helen broke in indignantly.

‘No. To be honest he hasn’t tried much beyond a quick kiss and fumble around my bra area since we lived here and I slapped his face for trying to take more liberties than I was prepared to give. That’s another thing that’s bothering me. If he loved me he’d want more. Wouldn’t he?’ Judy looked to Helen for confirmation.

‘You just said you don’t have anywhere private to go,’ Lily pointed out.

‘It wouldn’t be easy to find a place but if he were serious he’d make an effort to look for one.’

‘And what would you do if he did turn up on a date one night with a hotel key? Slap his face, or shout “goody” and run ahead of him up the stairs?’ Helen questioned.

‘I don’t know because I’ve absolutely no idea what making love is like. Now if you told me …’

‘You should never make love with a man until you are absolutely certain that you love him.’

They turned to Katie in amazement, the same thought in all their minds. Surely not! Not quiet, mousy Katie who had given gorgeous Adam Jordan the brush-off after only a couple of dates.

‘At least, that’s what I’ve always thought,’ Katie qualified, her cheeks burning crimson.

Judy was the first to regain her composure. ‘That’s easy to say, but how do you know the difference between having a crush on someone and being really in love with them?’

‘That’s easy. Look at my brother and Helen.’

‘We can’t all fall in love with Jack,’ Judy snapped irritably.

‘I’d scratch the eyes out of any other girl who tried.’ Helen threw a cushion at Judy.

‘Careful, that nearly knocked over my drink.’

‘I think that when making love seems like the right thing to do, which is what Helen said about her and Jack, it’s the right time for it to happen,’ Katie murmured.

‘Some of the girls in the hostel said …’

‘The ones who don’t talk to you?’ Helen teased.

‘Some are better than others,’ Judy continued irritably. ‘They say French letters aren’t safe. That you can get pregnant even if you use them.’

‘You’re looking at proof.’ Helen sipped her Babycham.

‘You serious?’ Judy placed her plate on a side table.

‘To be honest, we didn’t use them until it was too late, but then, everything worked out well for me.’

‘Because you picked a boy who’d walk through fire for you. Given his present performance, I’m not sure Brian would cross the road for me.’

‘If you’re that unsure about him, why consider sleeping with him?’ Helen asked.

‘I told you.’

‘I think it would be a big mistake to go to bed with Brian just because you’re lonely and don’t like London.’

‘You’re not even married yet, Helen, and you sound like “Mrs Marryatt advises” in
Woman’s Weekly.’
Lily smiled.

‘Can you imagine
Woman’s Weekly
printing a problem like Judy’s? How to curtsy and address your new mother-in-law and what colour bedsocks to wear on the honeymoon night maybe – but whether or not to undress in front of a man and actually make love before you have a wedding ring on your finger! Mrs Marryatt would curl up and die at the thought.’

‘And what colour bedsocks are you wearing tomorrow night?’ Judy asked curiously.

‘Want to see?’ Helen reached for another bag and pulled out a tiny white silk hat and veil. ‘Wrong bag,’ she muttered, among gales of laughter.

‘No, don’t put it away.’ Brushing the crumbs from her hands, Judy took it from her. ‘Have you thought about what hairstyle you’re going to wear with this?’

‘Down.’

‘Up would be more sophisticated.’

‘I’m wearing it down,’ Helen said resolutely. ‘Jack prefers it that way.’

Chapter Two

‘I don’t feel so good.’

‘We’ve noticed.’ Brian moved Adam’s pint away from him as he slumped over the table.

‘What are we going to do with him?’ Sam shifted his chair away from Adam’s.

‘Take him home.’ Martin finished the beer in his glass.

‘And I win.’ Jack held out his hand. ‘Two bob from each of you, I said two pints, remember.’ He watched the two-shilling pieces pile up in his palm. ‘Right, next round’s on me.’

‘Bridegroom shouldn’t pay on his stag night,’ Martin demurred.

‘I’m not.’ Jack pocketed the money and went to the bar.

‘You could charge Adam with being drunk and disorderly, Sam.’ Brian offered his cigarettes around, leaving one on the table in front of Jack’s chair. ‘Sergeant liked keen rookies when I worked out of Swansea.’

‘Don’t you lot ever forget you’re coppers?’ There was no malice in Martin’s comment. After sharing rooms first with Brian, then Sam, he’d developed a grudging respect for their profession.

‘He’s too out of it to be disorderly.’ Sam grimaced as Adam began to snore. Shifting Adam’s head until he fell silent, he asked, ‘What’s it like in the Met, Brian?’

‘Busier than here; in fact, most days it’s a madhouse. Long hours, shift work, hardly any time to yourself but the boys are great and promotion prospects better than in Wales.’

‘Then you like it.’

‘I won’t be coming back here, if that’s what you’re asking.’

‘And Judy?’ Martin ventured.

‘She seems happy enough. Between the hours I work and the hours she works, we don’t see one another as often as we’d like but you know what they say about absence.’ Brian winked.

‘Then it’s still on between you two.’

‘Most definitely. And what’s this I hear from Judy about you and Lily?’

‘I’ve taken her out a couple of times.’ Martin’s attempt to sound nonchalant didn’t quite come off.

‘A couple of times a week since we left according to Helen.’

‘You only went to London a month ago.’

‘A lot can happen in a month and you were always keen on her.’

‘It’s early days,’ Martin mumbled, hoping to discourage further conversation about his relationship with Lily. Even after a month and twelve – not eight – dates, as Brian had hinted, not to mention all the times they had bumped into one another ‘by accident’ that he had engineered, he found it difficult to believe a girl like Lily could actually want to go out with an apprentice mechanic like him. It was simply too good to be true. Not normally superstitious, he was terrified that if he tried to quantify his feelings for her it would somehow jinx his luck and she’d start walking – if not running – away from him.

‘Pretty girl and she knows the way to a man’s heart. She cooks like an angel.’ Sam kissed the tips of his fingers in a parody of an Italian chef’s blessing.

‘She cooks for you two?’ Brian turned to Sam.

‘We’ve been invited to tea a couple of times.’

‘By my sister as much as Lily,’ Martin interposed swiftly. ‘I’ll give Jack a hand with the glasses.’ He reached the bar in time to see his brother scowl as Joe Griffiths swept Jack’s hand aside and ostentatiously handed the barmaid a pound note.

‘I could stay,’ Lily offered as Helen opened the front door.

‘There’s no need. There’ll be bags of time in the morning. Not even I need more than a couple of hours to get ready.’

‘I’ll be over before nine to wash and set your hair.’

‘Thanks, Judy, see you then.’ Helen closed the door. She was finally alone to do what she’d been dying to do all evening: run down to the basement to unpack Jack’s clothes and look over the flat one last time before she and Jack moved in.

As she hung Jack’s shirts and trousers next to hers in the wardrobe, and folded his underclothes into the bottom two drawers in the chest she had reserved for his use, she noticed that, although finely repaired by Katie, most of his things were the worse for wear. It was just as well his birthday was coming up so she could replace some of his shirts, socks and underwear.

When she finished, she stowed Jack’s case in the cupboard under the stairs, opened the doors and switched on all the lamps before viewing each room in turn.

First, the bedroom; its delicate blue and cream decor glowed softly and seductively in the subdued lighting. It didn’t take much imagination to envisage the scenes that would be played out in the comfort of the double bed Jack couldn’t wait to ‘christen’ – absolute luxury after the narrow confines of her father’s old, overstuffed sofa. The bathroom beyond it with a bath Jack had hinted was big enough to accommodate both of them. The smart, contemporary living room where they’d sit every evening discussing Jack’s day at work and hers with the baby, and listening to the radio. The well-equipped, easy-to-clean kitchen where she’d prepare delicious meals that Jack would praise and there’d be other evenings when they would invite Lily, Katie, Martin and Sam in for supper. So many happy, perfect times to come – then she remembered in the coming months she’d be growing fatter and fatter.

Would Jack still love her then? He said he couldn’t wait to see her grow big with their child but what if she became repulsive like Mrs Evans in Hanover Street who ‘let herself go’ when she was pregnant with her first and, now she was ‘big in the way’ with her fourth, rarely bothered to put in her false teeth and always wore her hair in curlers and her stockings rolled to her ankles because she was too stout to struggle into her corset?

Her teeth! Mrs Lannon had warned her that every baby cost a tooth. She tapped hers to make sure none were loose. They felt firm but …

‘You down here, love?’

‘Yes, Dad.’ She switched off the lights and closed the doors.

‘All alone?’ John limped down the stairs.

‘The girls have only just gone.’

‘Last-minute check around?’

‘No. Last-minute gloat.’ Impulsively she kissed his cheek. ‘You’ve done us proud.’

‘You and Jack did all the hard work.’

‘Only after the builders moved out. We could never have afforded to rent a place like this without your help. Would you like some tea?’

‘Not on top of beer, love, but thanks for asking. You’ll make Jack a thoughtful wife.’

‘There’s sandwiches in the fridge.’

‘Now you’re talking.’

Switching off the last light, she locked the door and followed her father up the stairs and into the kitchen. It was immaculate. Ever the practical one, Lily had insisted on washing the plates and glasses, and packing the leftover food into greaseproof paper before stowing it in the fridge.

‘Cheese or ham sandwiches, or pasties and sausage rolls.’

‘Ham sandwiches please, love.’

Helen laid the sandwiches on a plate, found the mustard, set out a place setting and retreated to the window seat that overlooked the back gardens. A sliver of new moon shone down from a clear starlit sky. ‘Marry on a new and waxing moon, never a waning one.’ Where had she heard that? It sounded like something Lily’s Auntie Norah would have said. It would have been awful if she’d remembered that and seen an old moon. Drawing her knees to her chin, she curled herself into a ball.

‘No second thoughts?’ John asked.

‘None.’ She smiled.

‘If you’re marrying Jack just because of the baby …’

‘The baby’s a bonus, Dad, or should I say Granddad.’

‘Now that is going to take some getting used to.’

‘I am unbelievably lucky and I know it. I have Jack and the baby, and you for a father. Unlike poor Judy; she was saying tonight how much she misses Swansea and hates London.’

‘She hasn’t been there long.’ John sat at the table and helped himself to a couple of sandwiches.

‘Long enough to be miserable.’

‘You can’t make the whole world happy, love, so why don’t you just settle for Jack and, speaking of which, as you’re getting married tomorrow, isn’t it high time you were in bed?’

‘I’m too excited to sleep.’

‘Tomorrow will be here soon enough.’

‘It can’t come soon enough for me.’ Leaving the seat, she picked up the sandwiches he hadn’t eaten.

‘I’ll clear up, love.’

‘You sure, Dad?’

‘I’m sure.’ He watched her as she went to the door. ‘Going for another last look round downstairs?’

‘I just want to make sure everything’s tidy for when we come back,’ she smiled self-consciously.

‘Adam’s heavier than he looks,’ Brian grumbled, as he and Sam manoeuvred his comatose body down the outside basement steps.

‘If I do any permanent damage to myself, I’ll know who to blame,’ Sam gasped, as Jack unlocked the front door.

‘Complaints, nothing but complaints.’ Jack switched on the light. Walking through the kitchen to the passage, he opened the connecting door to the upstairs.

‘Where you off to, Jack?’ Martin asked suspiciously, as Brian dumped Adam in an easy chair and rubbed his aching arms.

‘To borrow a couple of things from Katie.’

‘At this time of night?’

‘She won’t be in bed.’

‘What’s he up to?’ Brian picked up the kettle, filled it and set it on the stove to boil.

‘I have no idea.’ Martin studied Adam. ‘If we take him home in this state, his mother will never let him hear the end of it. Either of you any idea how to bring him round?’

‘Black coffee’s the only remedy I know.’ Sam opened the door to their food cupboard.

‘The only way we’d be able to get it down him is to lie him on the floor and pour it into his mouth, and he’d choke. What do your lot do with the drunks you pick up off the streets?’

‘Throw them in a freezing cell and leave them until they come round.’ Brian reached for the cups. ‘You want tea or coffee?’

‘Tea and cheese sandwiches.’ Sam looked towards the corner as he lifted out the bread bin. The basement was serviced by an outside toilet and the kitchen did double service as a bathroom. Martin had covered the massive Victorian bath that almost spanned the length of one wall with an old door and a plastic cloth so it would be less obtrusive except when it was actually in use. ‘We could fill that with cold water and drop him in.’

‘He’d die of shock or pneumonia or both.’ Brian warmed the teapot and reached for the tea caddy. ‘Get what you wanted?’

‘Yes.’ Jack placed a large bottle of scent and a cheap lipstick on the table.

‘What are you going to do with these?’ Martin opened the lipstick and pushed up the bright-red stick with his thumb.

‘Take revenge.’ Unscrewing the top from the scent, Jack sniffed the bottle. ‘Katie wasn’t joking when she said this was strong.’

‘I can smell it from here.’ Brian spooned tea leaves into the pot.

‘Put the top on, it’s killing the cheese.’ Sam threw a tea towel on top of the cheese dish as if to protect it.

Jack leaned over Adam and emptied the scent bottle over his shirt.

‘What …’

‘I told you, I’m taking revenge.’ Jack grinned at Martin as Adam began to mutter in his sleep.

‘More like gas us.’ Brian wrenched open the skylight above the door.

‘What has Adam done to deserve that?’ Sam asked.

‘Tried to get me drunk.’

‘He didn’t succeed.’

‘Not for want of trying.’ Jack picked out an orange from the fruit bowl on the table. Taking the lipstick from Martin, he drew a cupid’s bow of a mouth on the side of the orange. After making a few slight adjustments with his fingernail he pressed it on to Adam’s scent-sodden shirt.

‘Anyone watching us would think Adam’s the bridegroom.’ Brian poured out the tea.

‘He’ll murder you when he comes round.’ Martin couldn’t help laughing. The lipstick ‘kiss’ was perfect.

‘There’s no real damage done, Katie said it’ll wash out.’

‘Did you tell her why you wanted the scent and lipstick?’ Martin asked.

‘Yes.’

‘And she still gave them to you?’

‘After I told her Adam tried to get me drunk.’

Brian, Sam and Martin watched as Jack applied two more ‘kisses’ to Adam’s shirt-front, one to his cheek and another to the centre of his forehead.

‘If one of you holds up his shirt and vest, I’ll put a few on his chest.’ Jack redrew the ‘lips’ on the orange as he stood back to admire his handiwork.

‘And when he wakes?’ Brian sugared the teas.

‘We’ll tell him he got off with …’ Jack thought for a few moments. ‘Lifebuoy Lettie.’

‘The barmaid!’ Brian exclaimed. ‘He’ll never believe that. She’s fifty if she’s a day.’

‘Why do you call her Lifebuoy Lettie?’ Sam unclipped Adam’s braces and rolled up his shirt and vest.

‘Because she needs Lifebuoy soap. Have you ever stood close to her? Silly question, you wouldn’t be asking if you had.’ Jack planted a neat circle of ‘kisses’ round Adam’s right nipple.

‘That’s enough, Jack,’ Martin protested as Jack began to repeat the pattern above Adam’s navel.

‘Just one more.’ Opening Adam’s belt, Jack unbuttoned his trousers and planted a final ‘kiss’ on the fly of his underpants.

‘If we couldn’t take him home before, we certainly can’t take him now.’ Brian sat at the table as Jack refastened Adam’s flies.

‘He’s not sleeping in my room,’ Sam pre-empted firmly.

‘You can’t expect me to drag him up to the attic with me,’ Brian remonstrated.

‘Put the two easy chairs together,’ Jack suggested.

‘He’ll never sleep on those.’ Martin joined Brian at the table.

‘He’s sleeping on one now.’ Jack washed the lipstick from the orange and returned it to the bowl. ‘I’ll nip round to his mother’s, tell her we’re having a bit of a party and he’s spending the night here.’

‘I’ll go.’ Sam tucked Adam’s vest and shirt back into his trousers and clipped on his braces. ‘It’ll be better coming from a policeman. Besides, she’ll smell a rat if she sees you. You’re way too sober for a bridegroom the night before his wedding.’

‘I wish you’d left the scent until we’d gone to bed.’ Brian sniffed.

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise it would linger.’ Jack screwed the top back on the empty bottle.

‘What it’s called, “Evening in Sewage”?’

Jack read the label. ‘French Chic.’

‘Now I know what not to buy a girl.’ Brian sliced the cheese.

‘Thanks to Adam. Poetic justice, really, seeing as how he gave it to Katie.’