Spoils of War (10 page)

‘Help me get him into a wheelchair, Huw.’

Diana lay still and white under a sheet only marginally paler than her skin. A bandage covered her head and her eyes were closed.

‘She looks …’

‘She’s sleeping off the effects of the anaesthetic,’ Andrew reassured, keeping his concern that Diana might be already slipping into a coma to himself. He held back in the doorway until he was sure Ronnie wouldn’t break down or say another word, then wheeled his chair next to her bed.

‘You can take a five-minute break, nurse,’ he ordered the trainee sitting at Diana’s bedside. ‘I’ll stay with the patient.’

Ronnie sought Diana’s hand. Holding it lightly in his own, he stared intently into her face.

Afterwards Huw put those five minutes down as the longest he’d ever lived through. No one spoke; no one even seemed to breathe in the room as time ticked inexorably on. The only signs of life were Ronnie’s eyes, probing, burning, willing Diana to recover. The moment the nurse returned, Andrew wheeled Ronnie out.

‘Can I stay with you, Huw?’ Ronnie asked.

‘You haven’t been discharged,’ Andrew pointed out mildly.

‘I’m discharging myself. Just you try and stop me.’

‘Then I suppose Myrtle and I’d better find you a bed, boy.’

‘Upstairs, clean your teeth and straight back down to put on your coat and shoes. No squirting water,’ Bethan warned Eddie, as Polly and Nell, their adopted daughters, chased him and Rachel up to the bathroom. As they left, Bethan took her hat down from the stand.

‘Want a lift into town?’ Andrew asked from the stairs as she held her pearl-headed hatpins in her mouth, freeing her hands to arrange her hat.

‘I’ll walk in after I’ve taken the children to Sunday School.’ Jabbing a pin into the side of her hat, she stood back to study the effect.

‘We can drop them off on the way.’

‘You should stay in bed. You didn’t get in until after six …’

‘I’ve slept enough for now. I’ll have an early night. Besides I should check on Diana. You going to Alma’s?’

‘You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?’

‘I think she might be in need of a friend.’

‘Coat, shoes,’ Bethan prompted Rachel as their maid, Nessie, hauled Eddie off the stairs and struggled to hold him still long enough to lace up his boots. ‘Be good, Eddie. Look, Polly and Nell are all ready for church.’

‘Joan Evans says I’m a show-off,’ Rachel chanted breathlessly as Bethan stooped to fasten the buttons on her coat.

‘And why are you a show-off, little miss?’ Andrew asked absently, fumbling in his overcoat pocket for his car keys.

‘Because Mam has a maid to do our dirty work.’

‘Nessie isn’t our maid, she’s our friend,’ Bethan said quickly, colouring as she glanced at the young girl who’d been working for them for six months. Then she remembered that Nessie’s mother lived next door to Joan Evans’ family in Danygraig Street. She only hoped the resentment came from the Evanses’ side of the terrace, not Nessie’s family. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, Nessie?’

‘Yes, Mrs John.’

‘Joan says Mam’s forgotten she comes from Graig Avenue. I told her that was silly. We go to Graig Avenue almost every day to see Granddad, Auntie Phyllis and Brian so if Mam had forgotten where Graig Avenue is, we wouldn’t go there, would we?’

‘You tell Joan Evans she’s a silly little busybody.’

‘Andrew!’ Bethan shook her head at him.

‘You cross with me, Daddy?’ Rachel’s bottom lip quivered.

‘No, darling, of course Daddy isn’t cross.’ Bethan crouched down to help her with her shoe buckles.

‘I’m not cross with you, sweetheart, but I am cross with Joan Evans. Now come on, or you’ll be late for Sunday School, I’ll be late for my patients and Mummy will be late to look at a house with Auntie Alma.’ Hauling Eddie from Nessie’s lap, Andrew hoisted him high in the air, swinging him up on his shoulders before opening the door.

They heard the telephone ring as Andrew drove the car out of the garage.

‘If that’s the hospital I can’t get there any quicker, and if it’s anyone else they can wait or phone my father,’ he muttered, breaking his own resolution to try to answer calls personally if he could.

It was then Bethan realised that Joan Evans’ tittle-tattle had annoyed him as much as her and it was entirely her fault that the children were subjected to it. It had been her idea to send their children to Maesycoed Infants, which she had attended with her brothers and sister, rather than a private school which Andrew would have undoubtedly preferred and no doubt insisted on – if he hadn’t been in a POW camp and in no position to insist on anything.

Would they never move on from the same old problem that had dogged them all their married life? Her working class roots versus his middle-class respectability. One thing was certain, if she’d remained with her own kind and not
‘forgotten where she’d come from’
to quote Joan Evans’ mother, there would be no question of her being bored. Because her days, evenings and most of her nights would be filled with the endless, cooking, cleaning and sewing needed just to keep a family clothed, presentable and fed.

‘It’s a lovely family home, Alma.’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ Alma unlocked the back door that led into the kitchen of her cooked meats shop. Lifting the kettle from the hob, she filled it and put it on the gas stove.

‘You going to take it?’

‘Yes.’

‘For Masha?’

‘What else can I do, Beth?’ Alma put two mugs on the long, wooden preparation table and sat opposite her. ‘Charlie went to the police station first thing this morning to make a statement. He did say when he came back that the sergeant thought they wouldn’t prosecute because of the time lapse and special circumstances. Apparently this doesn’t come into the same category as your run-of-the-mill, average bigamy case because Charlie had no way of knowing or finding out if Masha was alive or dead. But that didn’t stop Charlie packing a bag and calling a taxi. He was going to ask if he could stay with you, but thought better of the idea. He said it might make things difficult between you and me because we’re such good friends so he was hoping your father would put him up for a while.’

‘He and Dad were close before the war. They used to talk for hours on end. And if he’s in Graig Avenue you won’t have to worry. Phyllis will take good care of him,’ Bethan reassured, knowing that her father’s common-law wife was as fond of Charlie as the rest of the family were.

‘As I said, he didn’t even want to view the house in Tyfica Road with us. Just said if I think it’s right to buy the place, he’ll go along with it.’

‘And Masha?’

‘He’s written to her and the Red Cross is forwarding his letter.’

‘What about the shops?’

‘Charlie hasn’t really been strong enough to work in them since he’s been back. Oh, he walks around here from time to time but the only actual work he’s done is with the books, and he can do them just as well in your father’s house as here.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘What can I do other than stand back and let Charlie go?’ Alma delved into her pocket, took out a packet of cigarettes and offered them to Bethan.

‘But you’re his wife.’

‘And so is Masha.’ The kettle whistled and she left the table to wet the tea. ‘I’m not the wronged woman here, Beth. He told me about her before he married me.’

‘That’s the whole point, he did marry you. God, just listen to me. I can’t believe we’re talking about Charlie.’

‘If anyone is to blame for this, it’s me. If I remember rightly, Charlie’s proposal ran along the lines of,
“I
could marry you. No one here knows about Masha except you, but it wouldn’t be legal and if it was discovered it would be one more crime to lay on my head.
”’

‘Crime? I know Charlie’s hardly ever mentioned his past but there’s no way I’ll believe he’s a criminal.’

‘Apparently he is, in Russia. He went looking for Masha, asked too many questions, ended up in prison and escaped. So, he’s not only a criminal but an escaped criminal.’ Alma poured out the tea, sat back in her chair and drew heavily on her cigarette. ‘Beth, promise me you’ll be a friend to Charlie whatever happens?’

‘I don’t have to tell you how much I value Charlie’s friendship and yours.’

‘That’s just it, Beth. I know the people in this town. Let’s face it, Charlie will always be Russian Charlie – the foreigner. Once word gets out he’s a bigamist, I’ll get all the sympathy and he’ll get the brickbats. He’ll need every friend he can get. I know there’s your father and Andrew but I’d like to think that he had a woman he could turn to.’

‘I’ll be his friend, Alma, but not at the expense of being yours.’

‘Damn! That’s the delivery.’ Alma rose to answer a knock at the back door.

‘Your ration from the slaughterhouse, Mrs Charlie.’

‘Are Sunday deliveries going to be a regular thing from now on?’

‘We told your boy –’

‘I got the message. Well, as you’re finally here you’d better bring it in.’

‘It won’t happen again. We’ve been taking stock before the new restrictions come into force. This will be your last delivery at these quantities. Manager told me to tell you, he’s very sorry, but he’s had to cut your ration by a third.’

‘A third!’

‘Government orders, Mrs Charlie. The war might be over but food shortages aren’t.’

‘Government orders or not, I’m sure your manager can do better than two-thirds of my usual order.’

‘I’m only the messenger, Mrs Charlie.’

‘Then I’d better talk to your boss.’

‘Suits me, Mrs Charlie. I’ve had nothing but flak from the customers since the manager started cutting orders yesterday, and there’s a lot worse off than you. I’m tired of it. Don’t suppose there’s a cuppa going?’

‘Help yourself. There’s even a pastie, not that you deserve it.’

‘You’re a life-saver, Mrs Charlie.’

‘I’ll get out of your way.’ Bethan left her chair and pushed it under the table.

‘You will give my love to Ronnie and the children, and tell your Aunt Megan if there’s anything I can do, she only has to ask.’

Bethan knew it was useless to remind Alma she had enough problems of her own. ‘I will.’

‘Thanks, Beth, you’re a real friend.’

‘So are you.’ Bethan hugged her. ‘See you.’

Side-stepping the deliverymen and leaving through the back door, Bethan glanced at her watch. It was three o’clock. She – and Andrew if he didn’t have any more calls or emergencies with his existing patients – had arranged to meet the children in her father’s house for Sunday tea at four thirty, one and a half hours away. Polly and Nell enjoyed the responsibility of walking Eddie and Rachel up the Graig Hill after Sunday School and would undoubtedly see her early arrival as an indication that she didn’t trust them to look after the younger two.

She could go up and help Phyllis prepare the meal but what if Phyllis had already done everything? She’d only end up interrupting Charlie talking to her father. She really wanted to go to see if she could help in Huw’s house, but Huw had telephoned and asked if she and Andrew could visit at seven after the children were in bed so Megan and Ronnie could talk to them. Billy and Catrina adored Diana almost as much as she adored them. And Bethan doubted that even the support of a grandmother as loving and close as Megan would help Diana’s children adjust to the sudden absence of their mother and their traumatic removal from the only home they could remember.

The Italian cafés were open but she was neither thirsty nor hungry. There was always home and housework but quite apart from the long walk up and down Penycoedcae Hill, Nessie would have finished the daily chores by now. The girl might even think she was checking up to see that her afternoon off hadn’t started a couple of hours earlier than it should have, and after Rachel’s comment this morning the last thing she wanted to do was upset her. She could visit her mother-in-law in her spacious villa on the Common and might have even considered it seriously if they’d got on better.

There was nothing for it but her father’s. Turning right, she began to walk up Taff Street, to see David Ford handing a case and kitbag from the back of a Jeep to the doorman of the Park Hotel.

‘Mrs John, out and about on this cold Sunday afternoon.’

‘Colonel Ford, how nice to see you.’

‘And you’re probably going to see a lot more of me. As most of our equipment seems to have disappeared in the area around Pontypridd and the Rhondda Valleys, Command has moved me here.’

She looked up at the imposing facade of the hotel. ‘Nice billet.’

‘It’ll do. Don’t suppose you got time for a cup of coffee in Ronconi’s?’

‘And set the gossips going again?’

She smiled as she offered him her arm. ‘I’d love to, Colonel.’

*……*……*

‘How are you coping?’ Bethan asked Angelo, after watching him let rip at the waitress for keeping customers waiting while she chatted to a young man in uniform.

‘Not very well. I can’t stop thinking about Diana, and then there’s Tony. And my mother doesn’t even know yet. Ronnie’s coming over shortly so he, Tina, Will and me can go up Danycoedcae Road to break the news to her. I’m dreading it.’

‘Bethan told me what happened. I’m very sorry. If there is anything I can do to help your brother or his wife, I would be happy to.’

‘Thank you, Colonel, but this is one messy situation that the Ronconis are going to have to sort out for themselves and I know my mother, she’s going to blame herself.’

‘It’s hardly her fault …’

‘Didn’t you know, Beth? She threw Tony out last night.’

‘Whatever for?’

Angelo looked around to make sure no one was listening. ‘You know Tony, once he’s made up his mind to do something he does it no matter how stupid, so there’s probably no point in trying to keep it quiet. He’s gone and got engaged to a German.’

‘From what I saw when I was over there, some of the girls are human,’ David commented drily.

‘I even proved it. There was a cracking little land army piece on the farm I worked on as a POW …’ He looked at Bethan, and cut his story short. ‘But there’s no telling my mother any of it. She blames the entire German race for my father’s death. Tony would have been better off getting engaged to a Martian.’