Swansea Summer (36 page)

‘Go and play somewhere else, Angie, and let the grown-ups study.’

‘“Study!” The one word I never thought I’d hear my brother say.’ She placed her hand on Robin’s forehead. ‘Robin, darling, are you ill?’

‘No.’ Brushing Angela’s hand aside, Robin cringed as Emily threw herself on to his lap. ‘You’re no lightweight, Em, get off.’ Despite his protest he made no effort to push her away.

Angela snatched the book Joe was holding and closed it.
‘The Metaphysical Poets and John Hall,’
she read slowly.

‘We can read the title for ourselves.’ Robin came up for air after Emily had pressed him back into the chair and poked her tongue in his mouth.

‘Ah, but do you understand it?’ Angie perched on the arm of Joe’s chair.

‘Naturally,’ Robin answered.

‘Then you two can tell Em and me
all
about it.’

‘Robin can.’ Joe rose to his feet. Angie didn’t move and the chair would have toppled over if he hadn’t steadied it. ‘I should have left hours ago.’

‘Stay the night,’ Robin offered. ‘We could brainstorm …’

‘Do,’ Angie pleaded, ‘Mums and Pops are going to be ever so late. We could play murder.’

‘I know your idea of playing murder.’

‘No you don’t, Joe. You haven’t played with me for years and I’ve grown up in that time.’

‘What’s the point in growing up if it only makes you even more childish?’

‘You’re in danger of becoming a bore.’ Angela pouted.

‘Probably.’ Joe reached for his tie and jacket. ‘But my sister came out of hospital today and I should spend some time with her.’

‘She has her husband.’

‘Not for long.’

‘Jack is leaving her?’ Angie’s eyes glittered as she flopped down in the seat he’d vacated and Joe realised she’d been drinking.

‘Only to do his National Service.’

‘That can take years.’

‘Two to be precise.’

‘Study tomorrow?’ Robin asked, as Joe shrugged on his jacket.

‘If we make it my place.’

‘OK.’

‘Spoilsports.’ Angie continued to glare at Joe.

‘We can’t concentrate when you two are around,’ Joe said flatly.

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’ Emily burrowed under Robin’s sweater.

‘Want the car?’ Robin tossed the keys to Joe, who caught them neatly and threw them back.

‘No thanks, I’ll walk.’

‘Walk!’

‘It’s only a couple of miles, Angie.’ Joe laughed at the stricken expression on her face.

‘I can think of better ways of exercising.’ Robin slid his hand up the front of Emily’s sweater.

‘No naughties in front of Angie and Joe,’ she squealed, playfully slapping him down.

‘Bye.’ Realising he’d drifted past tiredness into mental exhaustion, Joe threw his books into his briefcase, opened the door and walked through to the hall.

‘I’ll see you out.’ Angela tottered after him on high heels.

‘I’m amazed you can walk on those.’ Joe lifted his raincoat from the stand.

‘I can’t.’ She giggled. Turning her ankle, she fell against him, wrapping her arms round his chest to steady herself.

‘You’re drunk,’ he admonished, breathing in brandy fumes.

‘Only a teensy weensy ickle bit.’ Flinging her arms round his neck she purred, ‘If you stay we could be naughty too.’

‘I take it you and Em couldn’t find anyone at the party to be naughty with.’

‘Plenty, but that was at the party. This is now.’

‘Try me again when you are sober.’

‘Really?’ She tried, and failed, to focus on him.

‘If you remember.’

‘What?’ she called after him as he opened the door.

‘This conversation.’ He closed the door behind him.

‘Would you like to come in for coffee?’

‘I ought to go home.’ The street spun round Judy as she clung unsteadily to Adam’s arm.

‘Your mother knows the dance isn’t over until two.’ Adam glanced at his watch. ‘It’s not even twelve yet.’

‘I’m sorry …’

‘Don’t be, I’d had enough too. That room was hot and stuffy.’

As Adam led her down the steps of his parents’ basement Judy felt as though her feet were sinking into thick gluey layers of bread dough. ‘I can’t understand why I feel so ghastly.’ She fought the sense of unreality that had settled over her halfway through the evening. ‘I’ve had four Babychams, it’s only one more than I have most Saturdays …’

‘You’ll be fine after a cup of coffee.’ Opening the door, Adam led her inside, through the kitchen and into the sitting room. ‘Make yourself at home.’

Judy looked around as he switched on a sofa lamp. ‘Your mother …’

‘Didn’t I tell you? Her and my dad have gone down to my gran’s caravan in Trecco Bay for the week. They always do at this time of year.’ He looked down at her. ‘I’ll get that coffee.’

As he left the room, Judy leaned her head against the back of the sofa. She felt befuddled, queasy and tired. She closed her eyes and instantly felt much better. A few minutes’ rest, a cup of coffee and she would be ready to go home – and face her mother.

‘I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight,’ Martin grumbled sleepily as Jack switched on their bedroom light.

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you were in bed.’

Martin squinted, one-eyed, at the clock. ‘Where else would I be at one in the morning?’

‘I didn’t think.’

‘Why aren’t you with Helen?’

‘Because she’s ill and I’d disturb her.’ Jack pulled his tie off without undoing the knot and threw it on to the chair.

‘You are seeing her tomorrow?’ Martin pressed, wondering if they’d quarrelled.

‘I promised Mr Griffiths I’d be in the house before eight. He wants to go into the warehouse and she can’t be left on her own.’

‘And after Sunday morning?’

‘The doctor tried to get me another extension on compassionate grounds but the army wouldn’t have it. Mr Griffiths did say something about asking their daily to work a few more hours but he hasn’t yet.’

‘Everything is all right between you and Helen?’

‘Apart from her being ill. Why shouldn’t it be?’ Jack stepped out of his trousers and folded them along the creases.

‘Because you have to catch the ten-o’clock train out of Swansea on Sunday morning and you don’t know when you’ll be back.’

‘You said yourself that everyone gets leave after their training.’

‘Yes but …’

Jack pulled his pyjamas from under his pillow. ‘It’s late.’

‘That didn’t seem to bother you when you came in.’

‘Because I didn’t know just how late it was. I’m tired, Martin, I have to get up in the morning.’

‘And I don’t!’ Martin exclaimed indignantly.

‘It’s your half-day.’

‘You don’t even have to work.’

‘I don’t want a bloody argument.’

Martin glared at his brother before turning his back and closing his eyes.

Jack switched off the light, climbed into bed and followed Martin’s example, but exhausted as he was, sleep eluded him. Crossing his arms beneath his head, he stared up at the ceiling and went over the day.
And they’ll be queuing up to hand over a baby to an ex-Borstal boy like you.
Helen’s angry, bitter words burned in his mind. He had made her pregnant, it was his fault that she had spent four weeks in hospital and he couldn’t even give her the child she longed for through adoption. And now, just when she needed him most, he had to leave her for two years.

What hope was there for them to have any kind of a future together?

Judy shivered as a draught of cold air blew across her breasts. Brian was on top of her, caressing her, murmuring soft words of endearment. A warm tide of weakening relief coursed through her body. Everything was all right between them. It had to be for him to be with her again.

She felt his lips, warm, tantalising, as he kissed her nipples, teasing them to peaks. The boned bodice of her dress was sticking uncomfortably between them but as it was loose, she realised that he must have unzipped it. Folding it back to the waist, she eased herself upwards to allow him to pull the gown from her. It fell to the floor in a swish of starched underskirts brushing against taffeta, as his hand slid up her leg to her stocking top. She was about to stop him when she remembered she had asked him to make love to her.

Knotting her fingers into his hair, she kissed his forehead as he continued to caress her breasts. Her suspenders snapped. Rolling her corset to her waist, his fingers stroked the soft, sensitive skin on the flat of her stomach, as his lips travelled upwards. They pressed down warm on hers as his tongue entered her mouth.

His hand slid into her knickers and pulled them down. It was what she’d told him she wanted but she was suddenly afraid as he rolled on top of her, then, as a strange, new, all-consuming passion began to burn, she didn’t want him to stop.

‘You awake?’ Katie asked Lily as she heard Roy walk up the second flight of stairs to his attic bedroom.

‘I wish I weren’t.’ Lily shifted restlessly in the bed. ‘I have to be in the bank all bright-eyed and keen to take dictation at half past eight tomorrow morning.’

‘Be grateful you only work every other Saturday.’

‘You get every Thursday afternoon off,’ Lily reminded her.

‘When everything’s shut and there’s nothing to do,’ Katie complained.

‘Will you be working the same hours in Lewis Lewis?’

‘Every other Saturday off, like you.’

‘Great. If we manage to get the same Saturdays off, we can go shopping together …’

‘If I take the job.’ Katie didn’t even want to think about leaving the warehouse tomorrow for her new job at Lewis Lewis.

‘You’re having second thoughts?’

Katie slipped out of bed and reached for her dressing gown. ‘Want a cup of cocoa?’

‘And a cheese sandwich.’

‘A picnic at’ – Katie screwed up her eyes as she switched on the light – ‘half past one in the morning,’ she whispered, when she was finally able to focus on the alarm clock.

‘If we’re going to be awake we may as well be awake with full stomachs.’ Lily felt under the bed with her feet for her slippers. Sliding into them, she lifted her dressing gown from its hook and threw it over her shoulders. Holding her finger to her lips, she eased open their bedroom door.

The largest bedroom had been her Auntie Norah’s. Bay-windowed, built over the living room at the front of the house, it had remained untouched since her aunt’s death four months before, as neither she nor her Uncle Roy could face sorting through Norah’s personal possessions. She and Katie shared the room that had always been hers. Built over the kitchen, it faced the back of the house. Mrs Lannon occupied the third room on the first floor. Set between hers and Norah’s, it also faced the back of the house. They tiptoed down the stairs, mindful of the housekeeper, who possessed an uncanny ability to tune in to whatever they were doing, particularly when it was something she could disapprove of, only daring to breathe again when they reached the kitchen.

‘You make the sandwiches, I’ll make the cocoa.’ Katie closed the door quietly behind them.

‘Have you told Lewis Lewis you’re starting on Monday?’

‘They wouldn’t have offered me the job if I hadn’t.’

‘You won’t be their favourite person if you back out now.’ Lily lifted the bread bin on to the kitchen table.

‘I know.’ Taking a bottle of milk from the marble slab in the pantry, Katie tipped half a pint into a saucepan and set it on the stove to boil.

‘Have you spoken to Mr Griffiths again?’

‘Only at work and as Ann is in the office all the time with us I have to be careful what I say. When he came in at the end of today he looked so exhausted, all I wanted to do was make him a cup of tea and tell him to put his feet up. I’m concerned about him. He never complains, but he’s not well. His scars ache dreadfully and he’s worried about Helen …’

It was most peculiar to hear Katie discuss John Griffiths in such an intimate, possessive way. Mr Griffiths had always been a slightly remote figure, as befitted the father of a close friend, but Helen was someone she could talk about. ‘We can help by going to see Helen after Jack leaves on Sunday.’ Lily cut one cheese sandwich, eased it on to a plate and offered it to Katie.

‘That may take some of the burden from John at home but it won’t help him in the office.’

‘He has taken on a new secretary.’

‘Yes, but you should have seen some of the application letters that came in.’ Katie stirred the milk as it came to the boil. ‘The girls couldn’t even spell, let alone type. It was like wading through the examples they used to show us in college on how not to do things. And I’m not sure the girl who got the job is up to it.’

‘And that’s why you want to stay in the warehouse.’

‘That’s only part of it,’ Katie admitted.

‘Now the time’s actually come, you don’t want to leave, even though he more or less told you to go,’ Lily guessed.

‘He only told me to get out of his life on a private level.’

‘Oh, Katie, you were the one who said you couldn’t stand working with him the way things are between you.’

‘I know, but the thought of not seeing him at all is even worse.’ Katie reached for her handkerchief and blew her nose.

‘You’re disgraceful!’ The door burst open and Mrs Lannon stood before them in a knee-length, pink-flowered winceyette nightdress, with metal hair curlers screwed into every inch of her iron-grey hair.

‘What’s disgraceful, Mrs Lannon?’ Katie asked, genuinely mystified.

‘You carrying on like this, at this time in the morning, wearing nothing but your nighties.’ Storming in, she flung open the pantry door, slamming it angrily when she found no one inside. ‘If those boys are outside …’ She unlocked the back door and stepped on to the metal staircase that led down into the garden.

‘There’s no one here but us, Mrs Lannon.’ Lily made an effort to keep her temper in check after the warning she’d received from her uncle.

‘Sorry if we disturbed you, Mrs Lannon, but we couldn’t sleep,’ Katie explained. ‘Would you like a cup of cocoa?’

‘I most certainly would not, at this ungodly hour, Katie Clay.’ Purple-faced, Mrs Lannon turned to Lily. ‘What do you think your uncle would say if he could see you now?’

‘He’d probably ask us to apologise for waking you, Mrs Lannon, but we didn’t mean to make a noise. That’s why we came down here.’