Corner of a Small Town Read online

  The arguments were good-natured but Lewis-boy knew that Viv really did resent the fact that Eleri and he lived at home. He would have to make up his mind to find them somewhere soon, but home was so comfortable and Rhiannon and Eleri got on like sisters. Perhaps next year. “I might put our name down for one of those prefabs next year,” he said.

  “Oh yeah? I can’t see you forking out rent when Mam and Dad let you live off them!”

  “All right! All right. I’ll do something about it tomorrow. Right?” Lewis-boy followed his father in irritability too, Viv thought.

  Barry Martin was in The Railwayman’s Arms, sitting with his older brother, Joseph. Sharing their table was Jack Weston, of Weston’s Wallpaper and Paint, and Basil Griffiths.

  “Budge up and make room for the workers,” Lewis-boy shouted across the room, “and don’t say it’s my turn for the round or I’ll go home now this minute!”

  Wearing his usual lugubrious expression, which got him occasional work with the undertaker, Basil Griffiths stood up and ordered two pints of dark. He was long-legged, and extremely skinny, the corduroys he wore hung on him and the jumper and jacket looked as if they were made to fit a giant even though his bony hands and wrists were protruding from the cuffs. “Wicked unfair it is, me paying and me the only one without a job,” he growled. Lewis-boy only grinned.

  ‘Them Damned Griffithses’ as most people called them, lived in a shabby old cottage on the edge of town Basil. Griffiths, who now handed Viv and Lewis-boy their pints, was twenty-eight and though having never found a regular job, was rarely without a few pounds in his pocket. Poaching was one way he stayed solvent, and one which made his regular appearances in court a bit of a joke. Buying and reselling practically anything, from a few wild strawberries to a wardrobe, somehow kept him afloat. Other, more shady, deals were never discussed.

  The Griffithses were a wild family; none of the boys had managed to keep a job much more than a month. The record was held by Basil’s father, Hywel Griffiths, who had once worked at the soap factory for ten weeks to pay off a fine imposed for fighting. Basil’s brother Frank was still paying off his fine for the same event.

  Their mother Janet had been born into a comfortably-off family of farmers but had abandoned all respectability without regret and accepted the precarious life offered by Hywel Griffiths. The irresponsible behaviour of her husband Hywel and their sons filled her with casual amusement and she and her daughter Catherine looked after them all with loving care.

  Catherine was so different from the rest of the Griffiths clan it was hard to believe she was related, especially as she was plump while the others were all as skinny as dead cats, as Hywel graphically put it. Catherine was a very shy and subdued thirty-year-old. She worked in a wool shop and had all the attributes of manners and reliability her wild brothers lacked.

  The only other relation was a cousin, Ernie Griffiths who, since the death of his parents, lived with the Griffithses and was a close companion to Frank. Frank and Ernie Griffiths arrived at The Railwayman’s together soon after Lewis-boy and Viv.

  Extra seats were found and space commandeered and the widened circle began to share news and views in an argumentative way.

  The Griffithses were considered by most parents to be a family best avoided, but in spite of parental pressures, the boys were very popular company.

  Lewis-boy was somewhat reluctant when a game of darts was suggested. “What’s the point? I’ll only have to leave when it’s getting interesting,” he grumbled. But with more disruption and much shuffling of chairs they tossed a coin for teams and Lewis-boy prepared to deal with the scoreboard.

  Waiting for his turn to throw, Lewis-boy saw Molly Bondo arrive with a couple who might have been her parents, and managed to nod acknowledgement without his brother seeing. She was a real smasher. Bold dark eyes, and black hair that hung around her cheeks and framed her face, giving her a sultry look that excited him. He began to feel wistful about losing her. If only he had married someone like her, life would have been fun.

  He added Basil’s score to the board and returned to staring at her. Perhaps if he explained his predicament clearly, and made her see that now wasn’t the time to take things any further? He might even make a few promises; maybe he could hint that next year might be different? Say he needed time to prepare Eleri for losing him? Promises were made to be broken, weren’t they?

  He saw that she was watching him and wished he were playing. He always played well when an admiring female stood nearby. As a game ended he insisted on taking part in the next. He felt like a kid excelling at marbles with his girl watching, content to admire everything he did. They took up the darts to begin a new game and were soon involved, shouting encouragement, and jeering their opponents. It was with regret that Lewis-boy prepared to go and meet Eleri from the picture house.

  “I’ll meet her if you like,” Basil offered and the look that Lewis-boy gave him was enough to send him to the bar for another round of drinks. “I’ll go, Lewis-boy, I’m not that keen to play,” Viv offered.

  Lewis-boy gladly agreed. He had seen the two people with Molly Bondo leave. She was obviously hoping to see him. With a bit of luck he might be able to talk to her and arrange another date. Tomorrow afternoon he could easily slip off to meet her between his appointment at Harker’s Stores and visits to the three new shops he planned to canvas.

  * * *

  When Viv and Eleri reached home Viv ate a few sandwiches and went to bed. Eleri stayed up talking to Rhiannon and waiting for Lewis-boy.

  “You can go to bed if you like, Rhiannon,” Eleri offered. “I’ll wait up for Lewis-boy, he shouldn’t be long. Just finishing a game of darts, according to Viv.”

  “And starting another back at the Griffiths’s house!” Rhiannon chuckled. “Drooped about here half the evening like a wet flag, miserable because you aren’t here, then when you do come home he’s off with his friends. Don’t you think you ought to get another job, Eleri?”

  “I offered to find a daytime job but Lewis-boy says he doesn’t mind. I think he likes being able to go out and meet his friends, and have a drink with Viv. If I were home every evening he’d feel obliged to stay put. You wouldn’t catch me going to that ol’ pub!”

  “Would that be a bad thing? I mean, if you’re saving to start a home of your own, the money would be better saved than spent in The Railwayman’s, wouldn’t it?”

  “D’you know, Rhiannon, I don’t think he really wants to move out of here. Too comfortable you’ve made us. I think he’s frightened of having the bills to pay.”

  “His money is good.”

  “That’s the other thing. I don’t think he feels secure in his job. Constantly being compared with your father; he doesn’t do all that well, although he really tries, mind. He’s hinted that every Friday he half expects to find an extra week’s money and his notice in his pay packet.”

  “Never!”

  “It is possible, Rhiannon. He just doesn’t get the new orders.”

  “I’m sure it will be all right.”

  “I hope so. I do want a home of our own. I think he’d be happier, not so keen to go out and join the boys at The Railwayman’s if he had something to keep him busy. Decorating, choosing furniture, perhaps doing a bit of gardening at the weekend. Your dad grows vegetables so it’s a certainty Lewis-boy would try to do the same. We’d be building something together. There’s nothing he can do here, you see.”

  “No, I suppose not,” Rhiannon said, thinking about the empty coal scuttle that she would once more have to fill and bring inside.

  Eleri went up to bed at eleven o’clock and Rhiannon waited until she was out of the bathroom before going up herself. Poor Eleri, surely she had guessed that her husband was seeing other women? With so many rumours flying about it seemed impossible she didn’t know. Anger drove away any thought of sleep. Pulling on a dressing gown she went back downstairs. She’d wait for Lewis-boy and tell him to stop playing around, and start acting like
a grown-up! She sat fuming, rehearsing what she would say to him. But the warmth of the room and the lateness of the hour relaxed her and soon she was dozing in the chair near the remnants of the fire.

  When the door quietly opened, she roused herself and gathered her thoughts, trying to remember the opening words of her lecture, but it was not Lewis-boy who was creeping through the front door, it was Dad.

  “Sorry I disturbed you love, but you ought to be in bed. Fell asleep waiting for the bathroom to be free, did you? You were sleeping when Lewis-boy and I slipped out for a walk. I couldn’t sleep see, and he was excited at winning some daft darts match and we thought a stroll might help. We walked as far as the square.”

  Irritated by her own stupidity, convinced that her father was covering up for Lewis-boy, Rhiannon stomped up the stairs, not caring who she woke. Tomorrow she’d talk to Eleri. If she fed her sister-in-law a few strong hints about what Lewis-boy did with his time, perhaps she would talk some sense into him.

  * * *

  The opportunity to talk to Eleri came as they washed the breakfast dishes. Heart racing with anxiety, dreading damaging their friendship, Rhiannon said, “Don’t you wonder where Lewis-boy goes when he isn’t at work or at home?”

  “I trust him, Rhiannon. You have to trust each other. Marriage is a precarious balance of letting go and togetherness.”

  “Yes but—”

  “Oh, I know all about his flirting.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course I do. He’s always been the same and I can’t see that marriage will change him. He’s very like his dad, isn’t he?”

  “In appearance, yes, but I don’t think our Dad flirts with other women. Not seriously. Our Mam wouldn’t stand for it for one thing!”

  “He’s an attractive man, your father. His flirting is innocent enough. He plays the part of a bit of a lad, a cheeky devil to amuse the men. To women, well, he’s the charmer. That’s the secret of his success I think, being liked by both men and women. I watch him with people he meets for the first time, I can see them opening up, warming to him.”

  “You think that’s what it is with Lewis-boy? A natural rapport?”

  Eleri shook her fair head. Her pale blue eyes were shadowed with a sadness. “No, it isn’t the same for Lewis-boy. He has to work at it. It isn’t natural, like with your father. He tries so hard to be like him. He dresses the same, wears his hair in the same style and he’s even grown that silly moustache, but the natural charm isn’t there. That’s why he tries so hard to be liked. He needs to be everybody’s friend. He looks in the mirror and sees someone equally handsome as his dad but, somehow, never as successful.”

  “He’s lucky to have you,” Rhiannon said softly. “I don’t think I’d be so understanding.”

  “You would, if you loved someone. Trust and understanding, they’re a part of love, without one or the other a marriage will just collapse.”

  * * *

  On the following Friday, Rhiannon was in Nia Martin’s sweet shop looking for a birthday card among the small selection on the counter. She was choosing a card for Viv, who was nineteen. Nia had received a new batch of birthday cards that day and absentmindedly, Rhiannon began sorting them in order of size and type, into the open drawer Nia used to hold them. The drawer wasn’t really big enough and just the tops were visible with only three pieces of cardboard labelled, Ladies, Gentlemen and Children, to separate them. The shop was quiet and she was idly reading some of the verses as she squeezed the last few into place. Many of the older ones were dog-eared and she looked around the small premises, wondering if there wasn’t a better way of stacking them. On impulse she stood a few on a shelf. It was as good a way as any of disguising the lack of stock due to the continuing rationing of sweets.

  “What are you doing, pretending it’s your birthday?” Barry teased as he stepped inside.

  Blushing as she always did when he appeared, Rhiannon shook her head. “Sorry, I thought I’d put a few cards on view, they’re so squashed in this drawer.”

  “It hides some of the gaps on the shelves,” he smiled. “It’ll be good to fill the shelves again. You’d hardly remember, but Mam had this place crammed full with every kind of sweet you can imagine, and there was an ice-cream cabinet in the corner.”

  “Funny, I thought that once the war ended everything would go back within weeks to how it was before.”

  “It won’t ever return to how it was in 1939,” Barry replied. “There have been too many changes.”

  He didn’t stay; seemed in a hurry to leave, and she felt uncomfortably certain that the walk to the beach with her had been a mistake on his part, something he wished had never happened.

  At home, she continued her thoughts on change. “Do you think the last few years have brought any changes for the better, Viv?”

  “Yes,” he said at once. “Dancing for one. Dancing is more fun since the Americans showed us how to relax and enjoy ourselves. The slow foxtrot doesn’t stand a chance now we’ve learnt jitter-bugging and jive.”

  “I always sit out the lively ones,” Rhiannon admitted. “Afraid of looking a fool, I suppose.”

  “We haven’t been dancing for a while, let’s go on Saturday, shall we?”

  “I’ve got a Saturday off for a change,” Eleri told them. “Lewis-boy and I will probably go out. But not to the pictures!” she laughed. “Why not come to the dance then?” Rhiannon said.

  “No, Lewis-boy is sure to have something planned.”

  When he came in, Lewis-boy told them that he had to see someone on Saturday night. “I was sure you’d be working, love,” he told his wife. “Rare for you to have a Saturday evening free. I’ve arranged to meet someone. A tidy little shop a few miles north of Cardiff. I’ll be real chuffed if I get an order. Saturday evening is the only time the man would meet me. I agreed, thinking I’d be glad to fill the time.”

  “Can’t you change it?” Eleri pleaded.

  “Sorry love. But this one is a big fish. He has two other stores see, and I’d love to get him interested.”

  “Why don’t you come with Viv and me?” Rhiannon suggested, as they washed the supper dishes. “It’ll be fun.”

  “I couldn’t go without Lewis-boy! I’m a married woman, who would I dance with?”

  “Oh come off it, Eleri! I’m not asking you to carry on with someone else, or enter a den of vice! Just to come with us to the local dance!”

  “All right. I’ll come,” Eleri surprised her by saying.

  Hiding her pleasure, Rhiannon just nodded. “Right then. I’ll tell Viv to get three tickets.”

  * * *

  The dance took place in a building that had been used for stores during the war and still looked like a warehouse. An attempt had been made to brighten the walls with home-made posters. A series of black and white sketches of elegant ballroom dancers filled a corner. Bright pictures of rather flamboyant dancers in feathers and frills filled another, and the stage itself was cheerful enough, with the five members of the band dressed in black suits edged with silver, and white shirts that reflected spots of colour from the twirling ball hanging from the ceiling.

  Rhiannon and Eleri left their coats in the cloakroom and touched up their make-up carefully. Then they went outside to join Viv. At once they were swept up in the dancing. Basil Griffiths claimed Rhiannon and Viv began to dance with Eleri but lost her at once to his friend Jack Weston. Viv danced with Molly Bondo, unaware that Molly was soon to leave to meet his brother, Lewis-boy.

  When the three arrived home at midnight, Lewis-boy was sitting by a dying fire. He stood and greeted Eleri affectionately. “I’ve missed you,” he said. “And I didn’t get the order.”

  Viv looked at his brother and saw the light of excitement in his eyes that belied the sad words and he frowned. He turned to Rhiannon and said quietly, “Now, why don’t I believe him?”

  Chapter Two

  The town of Pendragon Island was a popular place for families to spend their holidays. The
beach was a good one and there were parks and wild areas in which to spend time pleasurably. Plenty of cafés and shops around the main sandy beach meant children could be fed and spend their pocket money without difficulty.

  Sophie Street was in an area about twenty minutes walk from the sands, but since World War II, it had become possible to get a glimpse of the sea. Once a long terrace, it now had spaces where bombs had demolished houses. At number eight, opposite the Lewis’s, Maggie Wilpin’s house was supported by wooden framework to save it joining its neighbours in a heap of rubble. Maggie spent a lot of time sitting on a rickety chair on her doorstep and she sat now, watching the Lewis’s door, wondering who would be first home. Aged seventy-five and unsteady on her legs, she lived vicariously through the activities of others. She smiled and waved as Rhiannon opened her front door.

  Rhiannon stood on the doorstep of number seven and stared along the street in both directions. Evening was coming with a suddenness brought on by gathering rain clouds being pushed inland from the sea. The lights of the two shops on the corner spilled out across the pavement, adding garish colour to the occasional passerby. On impulse, she pulled the door closed behind her, gave Maggie Wilpin another wave and walked to the street corner. Both shops were open for business; Gertie Thomas’s grocery and Nia Martin’s sweet shop, Temptations.

  Near Temptations, she paused and looked across the road, through an empty site where a bomb had demolished two houses, towards the sea.

  Lights from ships glittered like fallen stars and a ship’s hooter sounded melancholy on the murky air. Rain began to fall softly and in seconds the lights on the sea vanished as if someone had turned a switch and plunged the area into darkness.

  “Come inside, Rhiannon, it’s pickin’ to rain, girl. Get soaked you will, standing there like a tit in a trance.”