Swansea Summer (8 page)

‘I’ve been a complete fool. I didn’t even see what was under my nose. I asked if you were carrying bricks when I lifted your case on and off the train. It weighed ten times as much as mine and I still didn’t get it. When you packed to come back this weekend, did you leave anything in your room in the hostel? Did you?’ he repeated furiously, when she refused to look at him.

‘My room in the hostel isn’t secure,’ she murmured in a small voice.

‘So you’re not returning with me tomorrow.’

‘I told you, nothing’s been decided.’

‘Seems to me you’ve decided too damn much.’

‘Where are you going?’ she asked, alarmed as he opened the door to the porch.

‘Back to London tomorrow.’

‘Brian, please.’ She slipped between him and the door, kicking it shut with the heel of her shoe. For the first time since he had taken the brochures from her, she looked him straight in the eye. ‘We need to talk about this.’

‘Too bloody right. I’d say a couple of weeks ago would have been a good time.’ Lifting her by the shoulders, he moved her aside.

She laid a hand on his elbow, hoping to waylay him. ‘I care for you.’

‘Funny way you have of showing it.’

‘But coming back here this weekend, seeing my mother and the girls, made me realise how much I miss them. It’s different for you …’

‘How?’ he enquired frostily.

‘You love your job. You’ve made friends in the Met. Outside of you I have no one and I hardly ever see you …’ Incensed by her own weakness she fought back tears. She had always despised women who resorted to crying to gain sympathy.

‘You should have told me.’

‘I didn’t want to spoil things for you. You seemed so happy, so full of work plans and talk of promotion …’ As her tears finally fell, Brian handed her his handkerchief.

She blew her nose and looked up at him. ‘Please, Brian …’ Choking on her sobs, she buried her face in her hands.

Opening his arms he held her tight, pulling her head down on to his chest.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I should have talked to you about how I felt and now I’ve got mascara all over your shirt.’

‘You can wash it.’

‘I will,’ she replied seriously, looking through the door to the tea table. ‘I wanted this to be special, just the two of us. I thought we’d have time to talk this weekend but the train was so crowded we couldn’t even sit together on the way down and since then you’ve spent all your time with Martin and the boys …’

‘Just as you’ve spent yours with Lily and the girls.’

‘That wasn’t a criticism, just a statement of fact.’

‘So now what?’ His mind raced as he stood back and looked at her. He’d had many girlfriends but none had made him feel the way Judy did and he didn’t even want to think about how much he’d miss her if she left London – and him – for good.

‘I’ll talk to my mother and go back with you tomorrow.’

‘Don’t go for my sake,’ he snapped, allowing his damaged pride to show.

‘Lily’s right, I haven’t given London a chance,’ she conceded, in an attempt to diffuse his anger. ‘A month’s no time and perhaps if I made more of an effort I’d make friends. Then I wouldn’t be so reliant on you.’

‘And that would make a difference?’

‘No couple can depend solely on one another for company. Not when they work the hours we do.’ She looked up at him. ‘I will try harder, Brian.’

‘And if it doesn’t work out?’

‘You’ll be the first to know if I do decide to come back.’

He gripped her hand. ‘Promise.’

‘I promise,’ she reiterated solemnly. ‘Shall we eat now?’

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. ‘It would be a pity to waste all that food.’

‘Then I’ll make some tea.’

‘Your auntie said you were on honeymoon, so I thought you’d like some privacy.’ The manageress of the small hotel Dot had recommended led Jack and Helen up the stairs to the third floor. ‘There’s only two rooms on this floor and one bathroom, but no one has booked into the other room for the next two weeks and we’re not expecting anyone. It’s a small single, so it tends to be the last to go, and it is very early in the season. I hope you’ll be comfortable.’ She opened the door on a double bedroom furnished with two easy and two upright chairs, a table, dressing table, wardrobe, bedside cabinets and the largest double bed Jack had ever seen.

‘It’s lovely.’ Helen looked around. ‘Wine and fruit and flowers, are they for us?’

‘The fruit and wine are from Mrs Green, the flowers are on the house.’

‘Thank you.’ Helen smiled.

‘It’s nice to have some young people around. Most of our guests are commercial travellers. Breakfast is from seven until nine. We don’t do any other meals, but there are several restaurants in the area. There’s a very reasonable Italian on the corner that opens every lunchtime and from six to ten o’clock at night.’

‘Thank you.’ Jack dropped the suitcases in front of the wardrobe. ‘You’ve been very kind.’

‘If you want anything, extra soap, towels, just ring.’

‘We will.’

‘Enjoy your stay.’ The housekeeper suppressed a smile as she closed the door on them. Jack waited until he heard her step on the stairs before sweeping Helen into his arms and pulling her down on the bed.

‘Comfortable enough for you?’ she asked.

‘I’ll tell you in five minutes.’ He pulled off his tie and tossed his jacket on to one of the chairs.

‘You’re insatiable.’

‘Yes.’ He kissed her.

‘What about food?’ she asked as she came up for air.

‘You hungry?’

‘I will be afterwards.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘Then let’s hope that Italian place is as good as the manageress says it is.’ He pulled his shirt over his head, slipped off his trousers and underpants, and climbed between the sheets.

Opening the suitcase she removed a long flowing white nylon negligee set. ‘I won’t be a minute.’ When she came back he was sitting up in bed reading.

‘Very nice.’ He watched as she twirled around and slipped the negligee from her shoulders to reveal a white silk nightdress with plunging back and neckline.

‘You brought a book on your honeymoon,’ she complained. ‘That’s not very flattering.’

‘It’s a book the doctor recommended.’ Closing it, he put it on the bedside table.

‘You’re ill.’

‘I asked him about us, if we could hurt the baby, by making love.’

‘He’s too well protected.’

‘You know?’

‘I asked him when I went to get the results of the pregnancy test.’ She picked up the book and thumbed through the pages. ‘Jack, this is …’ Her voice tailed off as she flicked from one image to another.

‘Well illustrated. The doctor said it was a sort of handbook on how married couples can make one another happy.’

Shocked, she closed the book and returned it to his bedside table. ‘You already do that.’

He turned back the bedclothes. ‘I’ll do a whole lot more if you take that off and climb in here beside me.’

‘Wow! Scarlet woman!’ Brian exclaimed, coming up from the basement, as Lily walked down the stairs in her new frock.

‘Thank you, kind sir.’ When Lily had checked in her bedroom mirror earlier she could scarcely believe she was looking at herself. The crimson dress complemented her black hair, emphasised her slender waist and lent a glow to her cheeks and lips that made her feel positively glamorous for the first time in her life.

‘Not a word for us.’ Judy left the lounge and twirled in front of Brian in the brown satin polka dot dress she had finally settled on in the warehouse. With short, elasticised sleeves that could be pushed off the shoulder, it was the most daring evening frock she had ever owned.

‘Me first. Note, clean shirt.’ He flipped back his jacket and showed off a mascara-free shirt-front. ‘And triple wow. Both you and Katie look stunning,’ he told them sincerely, as Katie followed Judy in a short-sleeved, plain white cotton blouse and tightly belted, wide, pale-blue cotton skirt. Compared with Lily and Judy, she was ‘dressed down’ but somehow the plain clothes added attraction to her sweet features and enormous brown eyes. He caught himself giving her a second glance and quickly smiled at Judy lest she notice and get the wrong idea.

‘Thank you.’

Katie spoke so quietly that Brian couldn’t be sure he’d heard her. He looked enquiringly at Judy. She shook her head, warning him off, as the doorbell rang.

Lily opened the door.

Martin stood on the step in the new suit he had bought for the wedding wearing a clean white shirt and a blue tie she had given him. ‘You look fantastic. That is a smashing dress.’

‘That deserves a kiss.’

‘Not in broad daylight.’ Aware of Joe Griffiths watching them from his doorstep, Martin tried to avoid her.

‘You’re a prude.’ Oblivious to Joe’s presence, Lily grabbed the lapels of Martin’s suit and planted a kiss on his cheek.

‘Hello, Lily … Martin,’ Joe called out in a deadpan tone.

Martin nodded a reply but to his annoyance Lily gave Joe a broad smile.

‘Hello, Joe. Sorry, didn’t see you there. It was a lovely wedding, wasn’t it.’

‘Considering it was Helen’s, everything went relatively smoothly.’ Joe locked his front door and went to his father’s car, which was parked in front of the house.

‘You coming in?’ Lily asked Martin.

‘Not if we’re catching the eight-o’clock train.’

‘I only have to get my coat and handbag.’

‘Sam and Adam coming?’ Brian offered Martin a cigarette as he walked into the porch.

‘Sam’s giving Adam a shout now.’

‘He’s recovered?’ Judy asked.

‘From what?’ Martin enquired, puzzled by Judy’s question.

‘Whatever Brian fed him last night.’

‘There were five of us last night and you have to blame me.’ Brian helped Judy on with her coat.

‘Only because I know what you’re like.’ Judy tempered her sharp words with a smile.

‘Charming. My girlfriend doesn’t trust me.’

‘If we’re going to catch the eight-o’clock train, we ought to be going.’ Katie lifted her coat from the stand and walked on ahead.

‘What’s up with Katie?’ Martin whispered to Lily as she stopped to lock the door.

‘I have no idea. She seemed fine this morning and all through the wedding. I tried to talk to her when we were getting ready, but you know Katie. It’s impossible to get anything out of her unless she’s ready to tell you.’

‘I’ll give it a go.’

‘If I were you, I’d wait until she comes to you.’

‘Knowing her, she’ll just let whatever it is fester.’ As they stopped at the corner and waited for Sam and Adam to catch up with them, Martin glanced at his sister who was standing silently next to Judy and Brian. Katie couldn’t have chipped a word in edgewise between those two, even if she’d wanted to. But she showed no inclination to join him and Lily.

‘You can’t push people into talking when they don’t want to, Marty,’ Lily murmured.

‘If I’d pushed Jack at times I might have stopped him from thieving and going to Borstal and, maybe, having to get married at eighteen.’

‘You wouldn’t have stopped him from seeing Helen,’ she said lightly. ‘Wild horses wouldn’t have kept those two apart.’

‘Perhaps not,’ he granted, ‘but if I’d given him a good talking-to when I came back from the army …’

‘He wouldn’t have listened. Not then. And you’re forgetting Helen is every bit as wild as Jack and just as crazy about him as he is about her. Besides, all things considered it’s turned out well. He’s calmed down since you came back and that has to be down to you. And look where he is now, on honeymoon in London with a wife who adores him and a lovely home and a job with prospects to come back to.’

He offered her his arm, closing his hand round her gloved fingers as she hooked her hand into the crook of his elbow. ‘You’re brilliant at making people feel good about themselves.’

‘You’re so hard on yourself it only takes a couple of compliments – no, that’s not the right word – home truths to make you realise you can’t hold yourself responsible for the ills of the entire world.’

‘You’re quite something, Lily Sullivan.’ He wondered, yet again, why she was with him, not someone with more education, money and better prospects, like Joe Griffiths.

‘You two going to stand there spooning all night, or make a move towards the Mumbles train?’ Adam demanded.

Martin looked up. While he and Lily had been talking, the others had walked on ahead and were standing on the corner of Verandah and Mansel Streets. ‘We’re with you.’ Taking Lily’s hand, he raced down to join them.

‘You remember what happened the last time we went to the Pier Ballroom,’ Robin Watkin Morgan reminded Joe, as they sat drinking beer with whisky chasers in the saloon bar of the Mermaid Hotel in Mumbles.

‘Larry Murton Davies made an idiot of himself.’

‘And made us look like idiots because we were with him.’

‘Seeing as how he’s in Italy now, he can’t make either himself or us look like fools tonight.’

‘Which makes you all the more determined to carry on where he left off.’

‘You’re being ridiculous,’ Joe retorted irritably.

‘You’ve done nothing but talk about Lily Sullivan since she gave you back your engagement ring.’

‘She couldn’t give it back to me because I didn’t give it to her in the first place.’

‘No need to be so bloody pedantic.’

‘You were at the engagement party, you saw …’

‘Your intended fiancée’s real mother crawl out of the gutter she touts in, gatecrash the party and put an end to the proceedings,’ Robin interrupted, hoping to avoid yet another exhaustive post-mortem on the event from Joe. ‘You had a narrow escape, the only problem is you can’t see it.’

‘I refuse to stand by and watch a girl like Lily throw herself away on a lout.’

‘Martin Clay is your brother-in-law, as of this afternoon.’

‘The brother of my brother-in-law and that doesn’t make him any less of a lout.’

Robin reined in his exasperation. He and Joe had met as freshers at Swansea University almost three years before. And apart from an overdeveloped sense of romanticism and a puritanical bourgeois attitude to sex, Joe had proved a good and loyal friend. It was Joe’s coaching that had enabled him to pass examinations with grades beyond his own capabilities and Joe had already been offered a position at the BBC on graduation, an organisation he burned to work for. Given Joe’s extraordinary talents, he had no doubt his friend would rise high and hopefully take him some of the way with him. Which was why he was sitting drinking with him, instead of savouring the delights of a town-centre pub crawl with the rest of their group who had failed to persuade Joe to join them.