The Quality of Love (16 page)

Gwyn manfully struggled to eat his then finally pushed his plate to one side. Sarah took one look at it and burst into tears.

‘Cariad, there's no need to take on so. Perhaps you should go back to university and finish your course as soon as you've had the baby; you're probably cut out to be a lawyer, not a housewife; even I can cook better than this,' he added dryly.

When he stood up from the table she thought he was coming round to take her in his arms and comfort her, but instead he took down his overcoat from its peg and walked towards the door.

‘Don't wait up for me,' he said tersely.

Sarah sat there at the table, staring at the remains of the ruined meal for over an hour. Then, with a sigh, she began to clear everything away. She'd thought Gwyn had simply walked out in anger feeling the need to clear his head. He wasn't home yet, and she wondered what she would do if he didn't come back at all. She had only a few coppers left from the money her mother had given her, not even enough to pay for another week's rent, let alone buy any more food.

As midnight approached she felt so utterly weary that she went and lay down on the bed without troubling to undress. In the last couple
of days her size seemed to have ballooned and her feet and legs were swollen by the extra weight.

She'd have to leave university, there was no doubt about that, and to find a job, but who'd employ her now that she was looking so pregnant?

She still hadn't resolved what to do for the best when she drifted off to sleep only to be awakened by the sound of raised voices and some sort of heated argument going on.

For a moment she couldn't even think where she was, then the bedroom door opened and Gwyn stumbled in and flung himself down on the bed beside her. His breath was rank with alcohol and she instinctively pulled away from him with an expression of disgust.

‘Don't start; I've already had one bloody mouthing from the landlady about coming in late and waking everybody up,' he hiccuped. ‘I don't need another one from you.'

He grabbed her roughly and, ignoring her protest to be gentle with her because of the baby, he attempted to make love to her. When he found he was incapable of doing so he pushed her savagely aside.

Sarah lay perfectly still. She closed her eyes, although she knew that sleep was out of the question, and waited until Gwyn's breathing became steady and rhythmic and she knew he was asleep. Then she crept out of bed to go and make herself a cup of tea.

She paused on the top of the stairs; the whole house was deadly quiet, everyone was in bed and asleep. If she ventured down to the landing below and started moving about in the kitchen there was the chance she might disturb someone so, reluctantly, she abandoned the idea and crept back to bed.

She still found it impossible to sleep. She lay there not moving but revaluing her new life and wondering if she'd made a terrible mistake. Possibly Gwyn thought the same, she decided miserably. Two nights running he'd had no proper meal so it was no wonder that he'd gone out and got drunk. It wouldn't take much drink to make him legless on an empty stomach.

Her mother would be shocked by her inability to look after him properly. She'd always prided herself on providing good nourishing meals and making sure they were always on time.

Lying there in the darkness she made all sorts of resolutions about what she would do in the future. If she couldn't go on studying law then at least she could get herself a basic cookery book and learn how to provide decent meals. It might take a bit of practice but she was determined to succeed.

She wondered whether or not to mention this to Gwyn the next morning but he looked very hung-over and barely said a word, so she decided it might be better to surprise him with a good meal when he came home rather than talk about what she planned to do.

He kissed her briefly before he left for work. He didn't mention the night before so neither did she. There'd been faults on both sides, she decided.

Once he'd gone she cleared up and left for university. She had lectures in the morning and a tutorial immediately after lunch, and needed to make an excuse for her absence over the last few days, but she would be free by mid-afternoon.

On her way home she decided to shop for something simple, like sausages, that she'd have no problem cooking, and resolved to make a tasty onion gravy to go with them.

When she went down to the kitchen to start cooking she was dismayed to find there were two other women already in there preparing their own meals. One was a very large middle-aged woman with crinkly black hair and a shiny dark face. She was stirring something that smelled very spicy in a large saucepan. The other, a tall, angular-looking woman with red hair and green eyes, who looked to be in her late twenties, was standing at the sink peeling potatoes.

They both stared at her as she walked in. ‘You from upstairs then, dearie?' the dark woman asked. ‘I'm Clara and this is Dilly, we live on this floor. What's your name?'

‘Sarah. We've only just moved in.'

‘Well, you got to take your turn in the kitchen,' Clara told her. ‘Did Mrs Blackwood tell you that?'

‘She said we had to share it.'

‘That's right and it's first who come here to live who can use it first, so that means you are the one who has to wait.'

Sarah bit her lip. She wanted to bake the sausages in the oven along with some potatoes and unless she got started soon they wouldn't be ready when Gwyn got home.

‘How long do you expect to be?' she asked hesitantly.

‘As long as it takes!' Clara laughed noisily. ‘My three young'uns play out for an hour or so after school until they see their dad come home and then they all like it to be on the table piping hot.'

‘What time is that?'

‘When he gets here, of course. Sometimes he comes rushing home, other times he stops off for a beer at the Crown and Anchor. He works on the docks and it's the sort of work that gives him a great thirst,' she added with another raucous laugh.

‘Dilly has only herself and her two kids to worry about,' she went on. ‘Dilly's old man's inside, isn't that right, dearie?' she asked smiling across at the other woman.

Dilly shrugged. ‘I suppose he still is. I can't remember when he's due out,' she murmured in a thin, whiny voice.

‘Perhaps I could cook my meal in the oven alongside yours,' Sarah suggested.

‘Oven!' Both women looked at her in
surprise. ‘There ain't no oven here in this kitchen, dearie,' Clara cackled. ‘What you can't cook on the gas ring you have to eat raw,' she added, laughing so much that she shook all over.

‘What were you thinking of cooking?' Dilly asked, staring pointedly at the package in Sarah's hand.

‘I was going to bake some sausages and potatoes. I was also going to make some onion gravy,' she added quickly as she saw Dilly raise her eyebrows.

‘Then you'll have to fry the sausages and boil the potatoes. You could always mash them with a knob of margarine.'

‘Can I use one of the gas rings now?' Sarah asked.

The two women looked at each other questioningly. ‘Well, seeing that it is your first time down here we'll let you, but in future you'll have to wait until we're finished. Can't keep kids waiting, the little blighters are starving hungry when they come home.'

As Sarah took the frying pan out of her cupboard, popped the sausages into it and made to put it on the ring, Clara said, ‘'ain't you going to put a bit of lard or dripping into that pan? If you don't they'll stick like glue to the bottom. Remember to prick them as well, otherwise they'll burst and splatter everywhere.'

‘I haven't got any lard,' Sarah muttered.

Clara walked over and opened Sarah's
cupboard. ‘You got damn all here apart from a couple of eggs and a drop of milk.' She lifted out the jug and sniffed at it. ‘That's on the turn, if you ask me. Take a tip: use condensed milk because fresh milk goes off in a couple of hours in this place. All that's any good for is to be put down outside in the gutter for the cats.'

Sarah felt tears springing to her eyes. All her good intentions to have an appetising meal ready for Gwyn when he came home were vanishing before her eyes.

‘Don't worry about it so much, dearie. I have a feeling that you're new to this housekeeping lark and looking after your man. You nip out and fetch some milk while I cook your sausages and Dilly here will give you a couple of spuds out of her pot, won't you, girl?' she asked, smiling across at the other woman.

Dilly shrugged but said nothing.

‘Run along, then,' Clara said, giving Sarah a friendly push. ‘By the time you get back it will be ready to go on the plates so I just hope that man of yours is home on time.'

Gwyn was home on time and pleasantly surprised when Sarah placed a plate of fried sausages and mashed potato, accompanied by some sort of sauce that smelled of spices, in front of him.

‘What's all this?' he exclaimed. ‘Have you been taking cookery lessons?'

‘Sort of,' Sarah admitted. ‘Clara and Dilly, they live on the floor below, helped me out.
I thought there was an oven in the kitchen but there are only a couple of gas rings. We have to take turns.'

‘It certainly looks good,' he told her as he picked up his knife and fork.

‘Well, don't expect this again in a hurry.' She smiled. ‘Tomorrow, Clara is going to show me how to cook chicken but it won't be roasted. I'm not sure how she prepares it but she's going to show me. She says that by the time the baby is born I'll be able to cook anything.'

Adjusting to her new life was not easy but, to her surprise, Sarah found that her newly formed friendship with Clara and Dilly helped a great deal. They were always ready to assist and rarely criticised; they'd lived in Tiger Bay all their lives and knew a great many people and such a lot about what was going on. They not only told her where to shop but also how to go about getting the best bargains.

They both had children ranging in age from three to fourteen. The older ones were always willing to run messages and when they heard that Sarah was at university they regarded her with awe.

‘Are you going to be a school teacher, then?' Cedric, Clara's twelve-year-old asked suspiciously. He breathed a sigh of relief when she assured him she wasn't.

Clara laughed a lot at Sarah's ineffectual skills at cooking but at the same time she was always willing to help and guide her. In no time Sarah found she was not only able to provide appetising meals for Gwyn but also knew how to shop for food economically.

It certainly helped to improve things
domestically although generally she found that life was nowhere near as wonderful with Gwyn nor their lovemaking as romantic as she'd dreamed it would be. They seemed to have settled into a fairly mundane routine, but it wasn't one that she was happy with at all.

She felt it was partly due to the fact that Gwyn was so immersed in his work. His hours were irregular and she could never be quite sure what time he would be home.

When he was late he always claimed that he had been delayed because a story had broken and he'd been sent to cover it. Or else that there was a mad panic in the office over a report or a feature and that entailed working late.

Whenever this happened, she noticed, his breath was redolent of alcohol. Once or twice when she'd commented on it he rounded on her sharply and reminded her that in his job he had to drink occasionally with his colleagues.

‘It's their way of unwinding after a gruelling session, and it would look boorish if I didn't join in.'

Apart from the fact that Gwyn had a driving ambition to be promoted, even though he still wasn't yet on the permanent staff, he kept reminding her that his wages had to support them both as well as the baby, which was now due in about two months.

Although she was still attending lectures and tutorials, Sarah knew that her days at university were numbered because it had been so
obvious that she was pregnant. The fact was made even more apparent because she couldn't afford to buy the right sort of clothes to disguise her ever-increasing bump.

Dilly had been extremely helpful by letting out both of her skirts at the waistline but there was a limit to how much it was possible to do this and Sarah still felt frumpy.

Although she was now over the initial wrench she'd felt at having to leave Cyfartha Street, she still longed to see her mother. Clara and Dilly were kind and helpful but it wasn't the same as being able to confide in her mother like she'd been able to do in the past.

As the days became weeks and the time for the birth of her baby grew nearer she even wrote a note to her mother, asking if she could come and visit her in Cyfartha Street. She hoped that even if that wasn't feasible, her mother might find it in her heart to come and see her in Louisa Street, since her address was on the note.

When a week passed and there was no response she accepted that her mother wasn't going to get in touch because she never did anything that might upset her father, and that the rift between herself and her parents was permanent.

Sarah knew she could never be like her mother. Even though at present she had to rely on Gwyn to put a roof over her head and pay for food and everything else, she was determined to maintain
her independence. She was quite prepared to stand up for herself and argue her corner if she thought that it was necessary.

For all that, she wished her mother would get in touch. Several times she'd been tempted to pay another visit to Cyfartha Street but at the back of her mind was the worry that she might be putting her mother into an awkward situation.

Another thing that made her put off doing so was that she might bump into some of their neighbours.

That was nowhere near as important as seeing her mother again and she kept wondering whether, if she paid them a visit one Sunday, perhaps after the baby was born, and faced them both, they would be so pleased to see their grandchild that it might put matters right.