Tiger Bay Blues (30 page)

David shuddered and blinked hard, but the picture remained, searing agonisingly and unbearably on to his consciousness.

How could Edyth – his Edyth, as he had thought of her until that day – reject him and marry a wet fish of a vicar like Peter? If he had lived nearer to her, or at least within riding or driving distance, he could have visited her, if not every day then a few evenings a week.

He would have courted her, persuaded her that he really loved her and then she would have married him not the stupid vicar. If only he lived anywhere but the farm. A girl like Edyth wanted to see life, not be buried in the middle of nowhere where the most exciting event of the day was the appearance of the lorry that picked up the milk churns from their stand at the side of the road.

Restless, he left the bed and walked out on to the landing. He could hear the new baby mewling and Harry and Mary whispering behind the door of their bedroom. For the first time in his life, he felt a pang of jealousy for his sister’s happiness.

He went downstairs. The maids were talking in the kitchen. But the rest of the house was quiet. Taking his hat and coat from the stand, he unlocked the front door as quietly as he could and stepped outside.

The sky was clear. A sliver of new moon shone down amongst a bevy of glittering stars and he remembered his long-dead father telling him always to start a new enterprise on a waxing moon. Had Edyth heard that saying and fixed her wedding date accordingly? Or was it simply luck that she and Peter had picked that day? Either way, it was Peter Slater, not him, who had won both Edyth and the luck that came with a new moon. And the girl he loved was as lost to him in her vicarage in Cardiff as if she had moved to the other side of the world.

Wanting to get as far away from the house, and everyone and everything connected to Edyth, as he could, he started walking, neither knowing, nor caring in what direction he was headed.

‘So if you take over the temperance society and the youth club –’

‘Peter?’ Edyth interrupted, allowing her exasperation to show for the first time that evening.

‘What?’ He unlocked the door and stood back so she could precede him into their room.

They were returning after an excellent dinner accompanied by a bottle of the vintage champagne that Alice Beynon had ordered to be sent to their table, not only on their first night at the hotel, but every night of their stay. They had finished with coffee and brandy and a walk on the terrace, which Edyth could have quite cheerfully forgone but Peter had insisted on taking. Apart from complimenting her on her gown and hair, he hadn’t said one single word of romance all evening.

‘It’s our wedding night,’ she reminded him tersely. ‘And all you’ve talked about is your plans for the parish. I know it’s important to you – to both of us,’ she amended diplomatically, ‘but the whole point of a honeymoon is to get to know one another away from everyday work and domesticity.’

‘Sorry, Edyth.’ He smiled sheepishly. ‘I suppose I have talked rather a lot about parish business tonight.’

‘Only all through dinner, the walk in the garden and up the stairs.’ She made a poor attempt to turn her complaint into a joke.

‘Sorry. It’s just that I can’t stop thinking about it.’

‘It will be there next Saturday and so will we.’

‘I know.’ He moved a chair in front of the window.

‘You want to sit up?’

‘I thought I would read while you get ready for bed.’ He took a book from a stack he had set on a desk in the corner of the room. She read the title:
The Victorian Pulpit:
Spoken and Written Sermons in Nineteenth Century Britain
.

‘Isn’t that a little old-fashioned for the modern church?’

‘In places,’ he conceded, ‘but the Victorians had some sound theological ideas.’ He sat down. ‘How would you like to go to service in St Paul’s in Sketty tomorrow? My mother and aunt always attend morning service and we can visit them afterwards. Perhaps even stay for lunch.’

Ideally Edyth would have liked to have spent the first day of married life lying in bed until the last possible moment before the hotel stopped serving breakfast, or even better, eating it in their room so they wouldn’t have to dress. Then, a stroll on the beach or cliff path, depending on whether the tide was in or not, before lunch and an afternoon nap with the door locked, followed by an early dinner and a romantic stroll on the beach in the moonlight. But then Peter was a vicar. He could hardly miss church, and if they had to attend a service anyway … and she wanted to see his aunt’s house.

‘If you’d like to,’ she acquiesced.

‘I think morning service would be best. We could hire a taxi to get there, so we wouldn’t have to get up too early. And, after we’ve visited Mother and Aunt Alice, we’ll have the rest of the day free. If we lunch with them, we could either catch a bus or walk from Sketty to Mumbles, and have tea in one of the cafés on the front.’

‘You seem to have it all planned out.’

‘Mother appeared quite agitated this afternoon. And I do need to talk to her.’ He looked away from her, unable to meet her steady gaze. ‘Do you want to use the bathroom first?’

‘No, you can.’

‘I won’t be long.’

She looked around the room after he left. He had unpacked his suitcase while she’d dressed earlier. It stood on its side in the corner next to the wardrobe. She lifted hers beside it and opened the drawer where she had placed her lingerie. She had chosen a white lace and silk negligée set but it was flimsy, and transparent in the light, so she had brought her satin robe for the hotel corridor. She laid everything out on the bed then sat on it and tested the springs. It was firmer than her bed at home. Was that a good or a bad thing? She bounced up and down and the springs creaked.

‘Edyth, what on earth are you doing?’ Peter hissed after he had closed the door behind him.

‘Testing the bed.’ Without thinking, she added, ‘It doesn’t half make a racket.’

‘So I heard. And I wouldn’t be surprised if it was heard halfway to Swansea. You’re not bouncing around with your sisters now. Didn’t you think what it would sound like out in the corridor? The clerk and porter were sniggering down in reception.’

‘Sorry.’ She jumped up in embarrassment.

‘The water’s hot if you want a bath.’ He set his toilet bag on the washstand.

‘I think I will.’ She couldn’t stop looking at him. His dressing gown was dark-red lightweight wool, which suited his colouring, and his pyjamas were blue-and-white striped cotton. He smelled of the same shaving soap and cologne that her father and Harry used. But he wasn’t her father or Harry, and there was a sudden rush of electrifying intimacy. She was finally alone in a bedroom with the man she loved, and he was dressed ready for bed.

He went to the window and pulled the curtains across it.

‘Don’t close out the moon and the sea,’ she pleaded.

‘But people on the road or the beach can see in.’

‘Not if we switch off the light.’

‘I’d like to read.’ He picked up his book.

‘How about a compromise?’ she suggested. ‘You can close them now, but I’ll open them and switch off the lights when I come back. I’d like to go to sleep looking at the moon and the sea.’

‘Is that what married life with you is going to be like?’ he asked. ‘A compromise?’

‘Until we rub the rough edges off one another.’ She moved close to him and planted a kiss on his lips. He stepped back. ‘Is something the matter?’ She smarted at his rejection.

‘Just this place. When you go to the bathroom you’ll see what I mean, Edyth. You can hear every sound in the building. People talking in the room next door, walking up and down the corridors. I even heard someone coughing in the bar downstairs. The bed squeaking was the absolute limit.’

‘I didn’t think the walls were that thin.’

‘Perhaps I’m being over-sensitive, but I think it’s best we leave the start of our married life until we get home.’ Shocked, Edyth stared at him.

‘You do understand what I’m saying?’

‘A honeymoon without a honeymoon,’ she said unthinkingly.

‘You don’t mind, do you? You are very young. Something like that can be painful – a shock to the system. Especially in strange surroundings.’

‘Not according to my mother or Bella.’

‘You discuss the intimate personal details of your life with them?’ Now it was his turn to be shocked.

‘Not personal to me, no,’ she qualified, ‘but the facts of life, sex, and married life in general, yes.’

‘I’ll read until you get back.’

He’d closed the subject and she was unable to think of a single thing to say to re-open it, so she left for the bathroom and lingered there even after her bath.

She rubbed Nivea cream into her hands and feet to soften them; sprinkled essence of violets on her neck and behind her ears because Peter had told her it was his favourite perfume. She removed every trace of make-up with more than her usual care, put just the slightest dab of powder on her nose to stop the shine, brushed out her curls and studied herself in the mirror. She thought she looked reasonably attractive. Not stunning, but attractive. But what was the point when Peter didn’t want to make love to her?

Was it her? Was she off-putting or ugly in some way that she hadn’t noticed? Did she have halitosis? After she cleaned her teeth she put her hand in front of her face and breathed upwards, but all she could smell was mint-scented tooth powder.

Finally, having no more cause for delay, she gathered her towel, toilet bag and clothes together and returned to the bedroom.

‘I’ve set the alarm for half past seven,’ Peter said without looking up from his book. ‘Will that give you enough time to dress and get ready to go down for breakfast?’

‘Yes.’ She went to the window. ‘Can I switch out the light and open the curtains?’

‘Switch out the light first but give me time to put my book away.’ He folded his bookmarker into the page, closed the book and set it on the chest of drawers next to the bed.

She waited until he lay back on the pillows before pulling the switch and drawing the curtains. Moonlight streamed in through the window on to the bed, bathing the room in a cold grey light that painted the bed linen silver.

Heart pounding, Edyth slipped off her robe and went to the bed. Peter’s eyes were shadowy enigmatic pools in the gloom.

‘That is a very pretty negligee. It could be a fairy costume from
A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’

‘I hoped you’d like it but I don’t think I’m anyone’s idea of a fairy. I’m far too clumsy.’ She turned back the sheet. ‘Peter,’ she summoned her courage, ‘are you quite sure that you wouldn’t like me to undress completely?’

‘No, Edyth. Aside from the feeling that the entire hotel is listening at the door, we’ve had a long day. Let’s sleep. We have the rest of our lives to get to know one another.’

She slipped off her negligée and hung it and her robe on the back of the door. Sitting on the bed, she swung her legs up and pulled the sheet and blankets over herself. Peter rolled over and turned his back to her. She reached out to him but he moved away, evading her touch and effectively ending her hope that he would go to sleep holding her.

She lay rigid, fighting frustration and disillusionment, until she heard his breathing steady into a soft even flow. Only when she knew he slept did she close her eyes.

David climbed the steps of Pontypridd’s most famous landmark, the old bridge, and stared down at the dark and swirling waters of the River Taff far below. The air was cold and damp, the surface of the water gleamed, black like wet coal, and still he could see Edyth and Peter. They were drawing slowly, inexorably closer to one another in that Hollywood-style boudoir – their lips met, Peter closed his hand on Edyth’s bare shoulder, she locked her arms around Peter’s neck …

Closing his eyes against the image didn’t help, he could still see them. He lifted first one foot then the other on to the parapet, straightened up, leaned forward and jumped. And then, finally, he saw them no more.

The alarm trilled into life at seven-thirty. Edyth looked around the room in bewilderment for the few seconds it took her to realise where she was. She sat up, ran her fingers through her hair to brush it back from her face and saw Peter sitting, dressed and shaved, in the chair in front of the window.

He turned to her and smiled. ‘Good morning, Mrs Slater.’

‘Good morning,’ she answered shyly. ‘You are up early.’

‘I’m usually an early riser, especially when I sleep as well as I did last night. The combination of exhaustion, champagne and travelling proved an excellent sleeping pill. But I woke just as dawn broke over the sea. It’s so long since I’ve seen it, I’d forgotten what a wonderful sight it is. How did you sleep?’

‘Fine, when I managed to stop thinking. Peter, what you said last night, about us waiting. I –’

‘It will be different when we are in the privacy of our own home, Edyth. Now, if we are going to be in good time for breakfast you’d better dress.’ He set his book aside. ‘I’ll go downstairs and order us a taxi to take us to the church. It will be an extravagance, but then a honeymoon is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.’

‘Can we afford it?’

‘On special occasions, but we won’t be able to make a habit of it.’ He left his chair and kissed her cheek. ‘If my aunt’s chauffeur can’t bring us back here, we’ll walk to Mumbles from Sketty through the park. We certainly have a fine day for it. The only cloud is over the sea, and we can always order a taxi in Mumbles, or even, if you’re up to it, walk across the headland to here.’

‘I’d enjoy a walk if the weather stays fine.’

He went to the door. ‘Meet me in the dining room?’

‘I’ll be half an hour.’

She looked out of the window after he left the room. The sun was shining but the wind was whipping sand across the beach. She opened the wardrobe and lifted out a dark-green woollen suit before going to the bathroom. She washed, dressed and applied her make-up mechanically. All she could think of was Bella’s confession that she and Toby hadn’t been able to keep their hands off one another – and Peter’s wish to postpone their lovemaking.