Swansea Summer (43 page)

Read Swansea Summer Online

Authors: Catrin Collier

BOOK: Swansea Summer
2.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘Yes,’ he snapped irritably.

‘It’s no big deal,’ she murmured coolly.

‘How can you say that?’ Leaning against the wall, he stared straight ahead at the bookshelves, looking anywhere but at her.

‘Because people have been doing it since the beginning of time. If they hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.’

‘Is that all lovemaking means to you?’ he questioned savagely. ‘“Something people do”?’

‘Not entirely, because people do it with varying degrees of satisfaction and success.’

Although he knew he was going to regret asking, he dared, ‘And us?’

‘It’s such a shame that one of the most pleasurable of all human experiences can be marred by a misplaced sense of guilt. I understand, now, why Robin calls you Puritan Joe.’

‘How you can lie there like that, knowing I don’t love you …’

‘You think I should be ashamed of my body?’ she questioned coolly.

‘I think you should keep it for someone who loves you,’ he countered angrily.

‘What is love?’

‘Now you want a philosophical discussion on the meaning of the word.’ He paced to the door, before remembering she had secreted the key in her two-piece. He looked down at the scraps of gold nylon lying on the floor and decided against fumbling through them to find it.

‘I think you’re confusing some childish ideal of what grown-up emotion is like with sex.’ She turned on to her back and stretched out as if she were deliberately trying to embarrass him.

‘And we just had sex.’

‘Give the man full marks.’ She rose to her feet. ‘And unlike Robin, I don’t do it with everyone.’

‘But you’ve done it before,’ he rebuked.

‘Didn’t your mother tell you a gentleman never asks a lady about her past?’ she chided. ‘And don’t try telling me you haven’t. You were engaged to that girl …’

‘Almost,’ he corrected.

‘Then you didn’t …’ She broke into peals of laughter. ‘Oh Joe, don’t tell me you bought the ring before you got her to rock and roll with you. That is absolutely priceless and so like you.’ Fishing the key from the folds of the towel lying next to her, she flung it at him. As he caught it, she kissed his cheek. ‘When you’ve grown up, darling – and not before – you can come back for more.’

‘As soon as I’ve put the chops in the meat safe and changed into my costume I’ll be with you for that swim.’ Lily climbed off the bike.

‘I’ll see if any of the others are around and want to join us.’ Propping the bike against the garden wall, Martin looked down at the beach. Although it was early evening the sun was still warm and the sea sparkled as invitingly as he remembered from his childhood – only now he had far better memories to associate with swimming. He could recall every curve of Lily’s body as she had nestled close to him under cover of the water, and that remembrance, more than any other thought, had spurred him out of bed that morning before the larks had even opened their eyes.

Lily glanced at her watch. ‘Judy and Katie won’t be in until the six-thirty Mumbles train comes in but Helen should be home.’ Unlocking the front door, she went into the house.

Hearing voices in the side garden, Martin wandered round the front of the house. He froze, watching Helen and Adam who were stretched out, side by side face down on a blanket, sunbathing in swimsuits. Oblivious to his presence they were eating cherries from a bowl and seeing who could spit the stones the furthest. Rolling on to his back, but no further from Helen, Adam idly tickled her between her shoulder blades. As she squirmed, he moved his hand downwards.

‘That’s far enough, Adam.’

Adam glanced up and smiled, an expression Martin interpreted as triumph. ‘Hey, Martin, I thought I heard the bike. Want a cherry?’ Adam offered the bowl as if he, not Helen, owned the place.

‘No.’

‘What’s far enough, Marty?’ Helen propped herself up on one elbow.

‘Adam knows,’ he answered darkly.

‘Why so glum? You and Lily haven’t quarrelled again, have you?’ she asked idly.

‘No, we were going for a swim and I came to ask if you’d like to come with us, but I see you’re otherwise occupied.’

Forgetting her earlier reservations about spending the afternoon alone with Adam, and without stopping to consider that she was only wearing her swimsuit and Adam had changed into his trunks after clearing one of her flowerbeds, Helen bristled with indignation. ‘We’re just sunbathing.’

‘I’m sorry I disturbed you.’ Martin turned on his heel.

‘You didn’t. Martin …’

‘Lily will be waiting.’

Rising, Helen ran after him, stepping in front of him just as he was about to enter the house. ‘That was rude …’

‘And you’re married to my brother.’

‘You think I’ve forgotten?’

‘Have you?’ He confronted her.

‘You’re being ridiculous. Adam is a friend …’

‘Close friend.’

‘How dare you!’ Furious at his insinuation, she slapped him soundly across the face.

‘What on earth’s going on?’ Lily ran down the stairs in a cotton dress, carrying her beach bag.

‘Your boyfriend thinks I’m behaving like a tart.’

‘You said it, Helen, not me.’ Crossing his arms, Martin stood his ground.

‘All I was doing was sunbathing in the garden with Adam.’ Helen appealed to Lily. ‘And Adam hasn’t even been in the house, just the garden. He’s cleared a flowerbed of weeds, which is more than you’ve done …’

‘This is your house, Helen, not mine,’ Martin reminded her.

‘Exactly, and I can invite anyone I choose to into it.’

‘I’ll see you on the beach, Lily.’ Turning his back on Helen, Martin crossed the road.

Lily stepped on to the path.

‘Don’t tell me you’re taking Martin’s side,’ Helen demanded indignantly. ‘Just because he’s your boyfriend …’

‘I’m not taking any side …’ Lily faltered as Adam strolled round the side of the house in the briefest of red bathing trunks, his chest and legs covered with tightly curled blond hair a shade lighter than his head.

‘Problems, Helen?’ He wrapped his arm round her waist and gave her a big smile.

‘No.’ Helen removed his hand.

‘Then why the big freeze?’

Lily could see why Martin was angry. Before Adam had appeared on the scene she might have been prepared to put his reaction to Helen sunbathing with Adam down to his overprotective attitude towards his younger brother. But the sight of Helen and Adam wearing so little in the intimacy of Helen’s garden, coupled with Adam’s familiarity towards Helen, shocked her, making her feel as old-fashioned, narrow-minded and disapproving as Mrs Lannon. And at that moment she was livid with Helen for putting her in a position where she felt that way.

‘Martin called me a tart.’

‘You called yourself a tart, Helen.’ Lily slung her bag over her shoulder. ‘There’s pork chops for your tea in the kitchen.’

‘It’s your turn to cook,’ Helen shouted after her as she ran down the path.

‘I’ll do it another night. Martin and I will be eating out.’

‘Lily …’ When Lily didn’t acknowledge her, Helen glared at Adam. ‘Put your clothes on and get out.’

‘Helen …’

‘Just do it.’ She went inside and slammed the door.

‘I was about to ask if I could use your bathroom,’ he called through the letter box.

‘There’s a bush behind the house.’ She charged up the stairs to her bedroom and pulled the curtains.

‘She said he’d cleared a flowerbed so he must have been there for the best part of the afternoon if not the day.’ Martin sat on the beach after he’d stripped off his clothes.

‘There’s no use dwelling on it, Marty,’ Lily said firmly.

‘Admit it; you’re as angry with Helen and Adam as I am.’

Stripping off her dress, she laid her towel on the sand and sat beside him. ‘You know Helen; she’s always been headstrong. If you try to warn her about something she takes it the wrong way and does things she would never dream of doing if she gave herself time to think. Look at her and Jack …’

‘And the way they got married,’ he interrupted.

‘Before then,’ she said quietly. ‘Mrs Griffiths was always warning Helen to “stay away from wild Jack Clay” when your sister wasn’t around.’

‘Just “wild Jack Clay” or those “savage uncivilised Clay boys”?’ When she didn’t answer he added, ‘You don’t have to tell me that half the women in the street disapproved of us as a family.’

‘You’re being oversensitive again.’

‘No I’m not …’

‘We were talking about Helen and your brother.’ She steered the conversation back on track. ‘She loves him.’

‘I wish I could be as sure as you.’

‘I am,’ she said emphatically, negating any further protest. ‘But I am also sure that what attracted Helen to Jack in the first place was the warnings her mother gave her to stay away. Mrs Griffiths’ disapproval made Jack irresistible. As Joe always used to say, telling Helen not to do something was a one hundred per cent certain way of getting her to do it.’

‘And Joe knows her – and you – so well,’ he snapped, annoyed with her for bringing up his name.

‘Joe knows Helen as well as you know Katie,’ she responded evenly. ‘And it won’t help matters if you try quarrelling with me as well.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured contritely, ‘I shouldn’t have had a go at you, but the last thing Jack said to me, was “look after Helen” and I feel responsible for what she does.’

‘You can’t stop her from inviting Adam to her house,’ she sympathised.

‘What do you suggest I do? Write to Jack …’

‘No. First you swim out beyond our depth with me so I can heat leech. Then we’ll swim back, dry off, change and drive down to the fish and chip shop for tea.’

‘And the pork chops?’

‘Helen can eat the two spare ones if she can face them,’ she said decisively. ‘If we leave her alone for now, I might be able to talk her round to seeing things from a sensible point of view later.’

‘And if you don’t?’

‘Then we’ll talk again about you writing to Jack.’

‘Isn’t it Lily’s turn to cook?’ Judy hobbled into the house after a ten-hour stint in her mother’s new salon.

‘It is.’ Helen crashed the frying pan on to the stove and unwrapped the newspaper from round the pork chops. She had been incensed to see two parcels in the meat safe, one containing a solitary chop, which presumably meant that Lily had picked it up after she had bought the others so Martin could eat with them.

‘If it’s Lily’s turn, how come you’re doing it?’

‘Because she’s not here and I am.’ Helen had watched Martin and Lily swim from her bedroom window, all the while wishing she had the courage to join them. After they had emerged from the sea, they had changed under cover of their towels on the beach. She had run down to the kitchen when they had begun to walk up, expecting them to come into the house, but instead, she had heard Martin’s bike start up and realised they had left. Then Katie had arrived so exhausted from work that she had gone to sleep on the sofa after exchanging less than half a dozen words with her.

‘You could wait for her to come back. I’m sure she won’t be long; it’s not like Lily to forget her turn.’ Judy kicked off her shoes and wriggled her toes blissfully on the cool linoleum. ‘I think I’ll buy a high stool for the salon. This standing on my feet all day is killing me.’

‘She won’t be back.’ Helen cut a knob of lard from a block and threw it into the pan. ‘She’s buggered off with Martin.’

‘Language!’

‘And who elected you “Miss Prim and Proper”? A couple of weeks ago you were swearing like a trooper.’

‘I’ve learned the error of my ways.’ Judy sank down on a kitchen chair. ‘If Lily really has gone, I’ll help in any way I can as long as I can do it from here.’

‘You can peel the potatoes.’ Helen lifted an enamel bowl half full of water and potatoes from the sink and slopped it on the table in front of her.

‘Be an angel, pass me the peeler and a saucepan of clean water,’ Judy begged.

‘By the time I’ve finished running around for you I may as well do it myself,’ Helen griped.

‘And who’s upset you today?’ Judy took the knife Helen handed her and set to work.

‘If you must know, Martin.’

‘Marty!’

‘Yes, bloody “Mr butter won’t melt in my mouth” Marty.’ Helen broke the head off a match as she tried to light it.

‘You going to tell me what your brother-in-law did, or just fume about it?’

‘He may be my brother-in-law, but that doesn’t give him the right to tell me who I can and can’t invite into
my
house.’

‘I didn’t say it did.’ Exhausted after spending the entire day listening to an endless stream of middle-aged customers’ opinions on everything from the new rock and roll music that was corrupting the younger generation to how ridiculous Teddy boys looked in their luminous socks and Edwardian jackets, and how their presence made it too dangerous to venture out on the streets after dark in case one of them was carrying the dreaded flick knife – that everyone had heard they armed themselves with – but had never actually seen – the last thing Judy felt like was a quarrel with Helen.

‘He must have picked Lily up from work on Jack’s bike’

‘Lucky Lily,’ Judy broke in.

‘Are you going to listen to me or not?’

Judy held up her hands, a potato in one, knife in the other. ‘I’m listening.’

‘He saw Adam and me in the garden and blew his stack. Called me a tart …’

‘Who called you a tart?’ Katie stood, disorientated, in the doorway, rubbing her eyes.

‘Your brother.’

‘I don’t believe you.’ Katie spoke quietly, yet so forcefully that Helen had the grace to back off.

‘He didn’t disagree with me when I called myself a tart,’ she protested defensively.

‘What was Adam doing here?’ Judy asked quietly.

‘If you must know, he came looking for Katie.’

‘I may be missing the point but I’m only a simple secretary. Why did you call yourself a tart?’ Katie asked.

‘Because I could see what Martin thought of me when he saw me sunbathing with Adam.’

‘He came looking for Katie but you ended up sunbathing with him.’ Judy had tried to come to terms with what had happened between her and Adam the night he had taken her to the dinner dance but it hadn’t helped when he had continued to join in everything they did, behaving as if she meant no more – or less – to him than Katie, Lily or Helen.

Other books

Illicit Magic by Chafer, Camilla
Cambodia's Curse by Joel Brinkley
Love in High Places by Jane Beaufort
The Heir by Grace Burrowes
A Secret to Keep by Railyn Stone
The Top Prisoner of C-Max by Wessel Ebersohn
Future Shock by Elizabeth Briggs
The Queen's Lover by Francine Du Plessix Gray