Swansea Summer (31 page)

Catching her, Martin pulled her back against his chest, wrapped his hands round her waist and brushed his lips across the top of her head. ‘I don’t understand how you can love someone like me.’

‘Neither do I after the way you just behaved.’ She turned and kissed him and, as his lips met hers and the length of his body pressed against hers, all doubts and uncertainties dissipated. He might not have repeated her words but his embrace gave her all the reassurance she needed.

‘Are you absolutely sure?’ He looked into her eyes as he finally released her.

‘Absolutely. You?’

‘I love you so much it hurts.’

The kitchen window banged open above them. ‘I can see you, Lily Sullivan. Come in this house this instant, or I’ll tell your uncle what you’ve been up to.’

‘We’re not doing anything illegal, Mrs Lannon, so I doubt he’ll arrest us,’ Martin called back.

‘Your behaviour is disgraceful …’

‘Would you rather I kissed her behind the shed where you couldn’t see?’

‘Martin Clay …’

Neither Lily nor Martin heard another word. Lost in the moonlight, they kissed again, clinging to one another as if they’d just invented love.

Chapter Seventeen

‘Everything go all right?’ John looked up from the
Evening Post
as Joe walked into the living room.

‘I think so. Why?’ Joe asked suspiciously.

‘You’ve been a long time and I didn’t mean that as a criticism. Whisky?’

‘Please.’ Joe sat down. ‘I met Lily from work and took her for a drive in Robin’s car.’

‘Then you two are …’

‘Just friends.’ He looked at John. ‘You’ll be glad to know that I’ll be able to afford my own car now so I won’t need to borrow Robin’s – or yours.’

John handed him a glass of whisky. ‘Then your grandmother’s estate was worth having.’

‘According to Richard Thomas, I’m officially one of the richest – if not
the
richest – young men in Swansea.’ He watched John carefully as he mentioned Richard’s name, but there was no flicker of knowledge that suggested John knew the man was anything other than the family solicitor.

‘I’m happy for you, Joe.’

‘It will take a while to sink in. Do you mind if I take this’ – Joe held up the whisky – ‘upstairs? I have some studying to do.’

‘If you’re hungry, Mrs Jones left a fish pie in the kitchen.’

‘I’ll forage later.’ Joe took his glass and climbed the stairs. Switching off the landing light, he walked into his bedroom, leaving it in darkness. The curtains were open and light flooded out from their dining room and next door’s kitchen windows, shining down on Martin and Lily locked in one another’s arms below him in the garden. He continued to stand at his window, watching every move they made, all the while hating himself for being unable to walk away.

Katie knocked discreetly on the back door. ‘Jack’s upset and Mrs Lannon’s hysterical. Judy’s trying to calm her down but she’s threatening to give your uncle notice, Lily.’

Lily slipped her arms round Martin’s waist. ‘Kiss me again, quick.’

‘Tomorrow.’ Martin wrapped his arm round Lily’s shoulders and faced his sister. ‘Why is Jack upset? Helen’s not worse, is she?’

‘He doesn’t know. She overheard Jack telling one of the doctors he was leaving on Sunday to do his National Service and fainted, but they turfed him out of the hospital before she came round.’

‘Don’t worry, sis, I’ll look after him.’ He smiled at Lily. ‘See you tomorrow?’

‘Yes.’

His smile widened as he went to the door. ‘We should quarrel more often.’

‘You and Martin quarrelled?’ Katie asked, as she led the way up the basement stairs.

‘Our first.’

‘But you’ve made it up.’

‘As you saw.’

‘I’m glad.’

‘Glad enough to brave Mrs Lannon with me?’ Lily whispered as they reached the top of the stairs.

‘That’s a lot to ask.’

‘Please, she’s always preferred you to me,’ Lily pleaded, as she opened the door to the hall.

‘Only if you stand between us, so I can run if I have to,’ Katie compromised.

*……*……*

Esme walked restlessly from bedroom to bedroom, switching lamps on and off, standing at the windows and straightening the drapes, studying the garden and sea views as if she’d never seen them before and wasn’t likely to again; all the while wondering when, if ever, she’d be back.

Finally, she descended the curved oak staircase, allowing her fingers to linger over the banister and thinking it strange that she had never noticed just how fine the carving was before. The drawing room was furnished with antiques that had been her father’s pride and joy. He had courted experts and frequented auction houses, making it his business to find out when the best pieces would come up for sale and always insisting on detailed provenance. If she had inherited the place she would have swept them aside, ripped out the picture and dado rails, done away with the coving and painted the walls in bright modern colours, purple, orange, rich crimson and blue … but then, the house wasn’t hers. It was Joseph’s and he would prefer to allow strangers to live in it rather than his own mother.

As she left the drawing room for the dining room, her heels echoed hollowly over the wood block flooring, raising goose bumps. Although she’d grown up in the house and moved back in after she’d left John, it was the first time she’d actually spent a night alone in the place. The housekeeper had packed her bags and left less than an hour after Richard had read the will. Her mother had joined her father in his grave … and she … what was to become of her?

Richard, John and Joseph expected her to move into the flat above the shop on Newton Road that John had signed over to her as part of the divorce settlement. She hadn’t set foot in the place but she knew it would be small and noisy. How could she make a new life for herself there, without status or friends, after living in this house? And how like men to expect her to do so, after they had destroyed every dream and ambition she’d ever had.

Richard had killed her aspirations of drama college and a glittering stage career by impregnating her and, as if that weren’t enough, influencing her mother to leave her estate to Joseph so she’d remain a pauper. John had blighted her best years by stifling her in domesticity and forcing her to live in town, effectively removing her from the social circle she had been born into. And Joseph – the son she had sacrificed so much for – wouldn’t even allow her to stay on as his housekeeper.

The injustice of her position’ burned, intolerable, humiliating. She could either move out meekly as they wanted her to, or she could fight back. Show all three of them they couldn’t pension her off to a trade address in Newton Road just because it was convenient for them to have her out of the way. That she still had some control over her life – and theirs.

‘Carrying on with Martin Clay in full view of the whole street …’

‘What’s going on?’ Roy enquired mildly, as he walked into the kitchen just as Mrs Lannon’s indignation was mushrooming into hysteria.

‘Your foster daughter and Martin Clay making love in the back garden in front of the whole street, that’s what’s going on.’ Mrs Lannon crossed her arms over her tightly corseted bosom and stared angrily at Lily.

‘In the garden?’ Roy raised his eyebrows as he looked from Judy and Katie, who had retreated into the corner, to Lily.

Noticing that he was finding it difficult to keep a straight face, Lily fought to suppress a smile. ‘We quarrelled, so we kissed and made up.’

‘It was disgusting,’ Mrs Lannon railed. ‘Everyone could see …’

‘Surely, only if they were looking out of their back windows, Mrs Lannon,’ Roy interposed.

‘You condone what she did!’

‘No.’ Unlike Lily, Roy realised his housekeeper would have a field day with the gossips if he sided with his foster daughter.

‘See,’ Mrs Lannon crowed. ‘Your uncle is as shocked by your behaviour as I am.’

‘Apologise to Mrs Lannon, Lily.’ Roy’s voice was stern but there was a twinkle in his eye that took the sting from his directive.

‘Sorry, Mrs Lannon.’

‘What was that?’ Mrs Lannon said loudly.

‘I said, I’m very sorry.’

‘That’s fine for you, Lily Sullivan. But Martin Clay shouted the rudest things … and me old enough to be his mother.’

‘I’ll ask Martin to apologise to you,’ Lily promised.

‘Not by going down into that flat again tonight, you won’t.’ She stepped in front of Roy. ‘I warned you, Mr Williams. You give these girls far too much leeway. They’ll end up like that Helen Griffiths …’

‘Lily’s apologised, Mrs Lannon. I think that’s enough for one night, don’t you?’ Roy broke in sharply.

‘Well, as long as you don’t expect me …’

‘I only expect you to do what I pay you for, Mrs Lannon, run the house. Now if there’s nothing else that’s important, there’s something I have to discuss with Lily.’

‘You need a woman’s help …’

‘It’s private family business, Mrs Lannon.’

‘There’s your supper …’

‘Lily can cook it. I’m sure you’re tired after your long day,’ he added in a tone he hoped would put an end to further argument.

‘Who wouldn’t be. This isn’t a small house …’

‘And we’re all very grateful for the job you do.’

‘I’m sure.’ Sniffing hard, Mrs Lannon picked up her handbag from the kitchen chair and stalked out.

‘Do you really want to talk to me, or did you just say that to get rid of Mrs Lannon?’ Lily asked as the door closed.

Holding his finger to his lips, Roy stole lightly to the door and opened it suddenly. His housekeeper was standing in the dining room fumbling in her handbag. ‘Have you lost something, Mrs Lannon?’

‘I thought I’d mislaid my pills but I have them after all.’

‘I’m so glad.’ He remained in the doorway.

‘I’ll say goodnight, then.’ Flustered, she went into the hall.

‘Goodnight,’ he called after her, only returning to the kitchen when he heard her step on the stairs.

‘Sorry, Uncle Roy,’ Lily apologised, as he closed the door.

‘You know what she is, love, try and be a bit more careful around her for your own sake.’

‘And Martin’s. What on earth did he say to her?’ Katie pulled a chair from the table and sat on it.

‘That Uncle Roy wouldn’t arrest us because we weren’t doing anything illegal.’

Judy and Katie burst out laughing.

‘Mrs Lannon’s definition of illegal is anything people enjoy,’ Judy said as soon as she could speak.

‘I’d love to know why she doesn’t annoy you as much as she annoys me.’ Lily looked at Katie.

‘Because I don’t let her.’

‘How can you ignore some of the things she says?’

‘Because she’s a lonely old women whose only interest in life is other people’s business.’

‘Katie’s right, love.’ Roy settled in his favourite easy chair next to the range. ‘It’s best to take no notice of her.’

‘That’s easier said than done.’

‘But you’ll try.’ He smiled persuasively.

‘For you, not her.’ Lily opened the pantry and checked the stocks. ‘How does bacon, eggs, beans, tomatoes and fried potatoes sound to you?’

‘Like you know how to look after a man. Judy, I think your mother would like a word with you.’

‘You two have fixed the date?’ she guessed.

‘I’m not saying anything.’

‘See you tomorrow.’ She ran to the front door.

‘Do you need any help, Lily?’ Katie asked as she returned to the kitchen after seeing Judy out.

Katie looked so drained that Lily shook her head. ‘Not to fry a couple of bits and pieces.’

‘Did you want to talk to me as well, Uncle Roy?’

‘No, love.’

‘Then you won’t mind if I have an early night.’

‘You’re not sickening for something, are you?’ Roy questioned solicitously as Katie went to the door.

‘Just concerned about Jack and Helen. She found out tonight that he’s leaving on Sunday.’

‘Anything I can do to help?’ He reached for his pipe.

‘Not unless you can persuade the army to let Jack off National Service.’

‘If I could, I would.’

‘I’ll try not to disturb you when I come up.’ Lily lifted down two frying pans and a saucepan from the cupboard.

‘The way I feel, I’d sleep through an earthquake. Goodnight.’

‘So,’ Lily picked up the conversation where she’d left off before Roy had disturbed Mrs Lannon’s eavesdropping. ‘Do you really want to talk to me?’

‘I think I’d better, before Mrs Lannon paints you as the scarlet woman of the neighbourhood.’

‘Martin and I were only kissing …’

‘Not that kind of talk.’ He flushed with embarrassment as she cracked two eggs into a basin. ‘I know you haven’t forgotten how Norah brought you up.’

‘As if I could.’ She dropped a knob of lard into one of the pans, waiting until it melted before laying four rashers of bacon and the eggs on top. ‘I won’t disgrace you, Uncle Roy, I promise.’

‘That goes without saying, love. But I hope you were serious about trying not to annoy Mrs Lannon even if it means sneaking around and keeping whatever it is you do with Martin out of her sight.’

‘Like kissing.’

‘Especially kissing.’ He grinned.

‘Do you think she was born old?’ she questioned seriously.

‘Probably, unlike Joy and me. Judy guessed right. We’ve fixed a date with the Register Office. The second Saturday in July.’

‘Auntie Norah would have been over the moon.’

‘And you?’

‘I couldn’t be happier for you and Mrs Hunt.’ Abandoning the frying pans, she gave him a bear hug.

‘That’s why I need to talk to you. Nothing’s been decided as yet, but Joy suggested it makes more sense for me to move in with her than the other way round. She has her home just the way she likes it and it’s taken her years to get it that way. The last thing she wants is all the fuss of a move while she’s setting up another salon.’

‘But this is your home, Uncle Roy. Won’t it be hard for you to leave?’ Lily tried not to think selfishly about her and Katie. If her uncle sold the house they would have to look for a bedsit …

‘It was my home, Lily. But even when I was a boy my mother and Norah put their stamp on it more than my father and me. Not that I’m complaining, it’s what women do. They can’t help it and as it makes for more comfort for us men in the long run, we put up with it.’

‘Are you leaving me and Katie here with Mrs Lannon?’ She tried to sound positive, but Roy could see she was horror-struck at the thought.

‘How serious is it between you and Martin?’

‘He told me he loved me tonight.’

‘Did he, indeed.’

‘Yes.’ She glanced at him before checking that everything was cooking properly, but it was difficult to read the expression on his face.

‘Then you’ll be getting married?’

‘Not that serious.’ She placed the bread on a board and cut a couple of slices.

‘Then you won’t be getting married.’

‘We haven’t even talked about it but I’m in no hurry. Auntie Norah always used to say twenty-five was a good age to marry, young enough to have children and old enough to have had all your flings.’

‘That’s Norah.’ He smiled fondly at her memory as Lily arranged a plate and cutlery on the table. ‘When she died there were a few things we didn’t discuss because I thought they’d best be saved for later and now that later is here.’ He left his chair and washed his hands under the tap. Knowing better than to hurry him, Lily handed him a towel. ‘This house is yours.’