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Authors: Grace Thompson

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BOOK: Time to Move On
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‘I doubt whether he’ll talk to me. But I’ll come with you tomorrow if you wish, although I think you should take your mother.’

The following day Luke drove them and waited outside for them and it was Jessie who answered most of Mark Lacy’s queries. Seranne’s only question was, ‘Why did she leave her property to me?’

‘The only explanation given is that Mrs Connors had been left a large sum of money when she was in her thirties. She had been widowed, and was earning a living by cleaning other people’s houses, and living in one room. The money changed her life for the better. She determined to do the same for someone else. A surprise inheritance, was how she put it.’

‘But surely, once she married she made a new will?’

‘Yes, but she insisted that her original plan remained. She hoped that the same thing would happen again after your time, that you would use the money to have a good life but treat it as a loan to be passed on to someone deserving and unaware.’ He smiled then and added, ‘Oh there’s no commitment for you to do what she asks, just a hope that you will look after the money and do what she envisaged, giving the same request to a chosen recipient in your turn.’

‘But where did the money come from?’

‘Her aunt Flora, from what I can discover. Mrs Connors, or Mrs Clements as she was then, used the money to buy the guest house and it has given her a good living. She hoped it will change another life and another after that, although, as I say, you don’t have that as a stipulation to accepting the bequest. The guest house is yours.’

It didn’t take long for the news to get out. Seranne went to see Ed and he refused to listen to her explanation that the whole affair had been a complete surprise. His reaction was extreme anger. He told everyone who would listen that Seranne had deliberately tricked his wife into leaving the property to her. As she hadn’t known the woman it was impossible to work out when, although truth wasn’t allowed to get in the way of a good story.

Seranne was shocked by the amount of bad feeling towards her. Some
people said loudly that they wouldn’t use her café again, others sat in a corner, ate her cakes while whispering about her, eyeing her like a woman suspected of theft, which was what some insisted it was. Twice she went to see Mark Lacy and insisted he handed the business back to Ed Connors, the rightful owner, but he refused, insisting in his turn that it was his client’s instruction and she must allow some time to pass while she thought it through.

Ed had said nothing to Seranne herself, but he put a note through the door of Badgers Brook stating that in the circumstances he wouldn’t be running the guest house any longer. ‘The key will be with Stella Jones at the post office,’ the note added.

Luke and Seranne went that evening to look at the place. ‘And I’m going to search every cranny until I find a new will,’ she said firmly. ‘There has to be one. I don’t believe she meant to deprive her husband of everything. No one could be so cruel.’

The kitchen was neat and clean and on the scrubbed table was a note. She handed it to Luke with a groan. It was a list of everything that needed doing on the property, problems that seemed to start at the roof and reach the cellars, touching on everything in between.

Luke read the list and went with her to compare the listed items with the building. Luke pointed out that they were mostly exaggerations. ‘The biggest problem seems to be, who is going to run it if Ed won’t help?’

‘I can’t. I have to work at the café. Babs can’t run it alone. I don’t want to close it down though. I still hope I’ll find a second will and be able to hand it back to him.’

‘He isn’t going to make this easy for you,’ Luke said grimly.

‘I don’t blame him,’ she said sadly. ‘If I take this place, which rightly belongs to him, I’ll be nothing more than a thief.’

They looked around each of the rooms, carrying the inventory given by Mark Lacy but not bothering to check against it. Every piece of
furniture
was examined for anything that looked like a will. In what was
obviously
the office, there were two spikes on wooden bases, one containing overdue bills the other the receipts for those that had been paid. Everything was up to date. They took out every drawer and even moved the furniture so they could look behind and underneath, but found
nothing
.

‘I think you should talk to Ed Connors and offer him a home and the job of running this place.’

‘I don’t want to take it! I haven’t the right to it.’

‘You must, at least until the legalities are over. Then you can think
again. Ask him to help for a while at least.’

‘He won’t speak to me. He thinks I came here deliberately and,
without
him knowing, wormed my way into his wife’s affections – although when I managed to do that I can’t imagine. But it’s what people are believing.’

‘Not everyone. Not even Ed, really. He’s angry and saying things to feed his disappointment, and his humiliation,’ he added.

‘Poor man.’

 

Ed was sitting in Betty’s living-room behind the bar, sipping tea and complaining. Betty listened patiently then asked, ‘Why have you left the guest house? Don’t you have people coming in?’

‘Let
her
deal with it.’

‘I can understand you being angry, but why don’t you help her? She’s as shocked as you.’

‘Pity for her!’

‘What will you do?’

‘I was hoping you’ll have me here.’

Betty shook her head. ‘No, Ed, I’m sorry, but I can’t have you living here indefinitely. Go back to the guest house until everything becomes clear. This is a business and I have all the help I need at present.’

‘Can’t I at least stay until I find somewhere to live and a job to pay for it?’

Betty was about to shake her head once more then realized that she was asking him to help Seranne, who unwittingly had taken his home and his job, and at the same time she was practically doing the same thing. She looked at him, drooping with misery. ‘Just for a while, then. Until you get things sorted. And,’ she added firmly, ‘you’ll have to work for your keep. Agreed?’

He nodded and went into the bar. ‘I’ll start by cleaning the top shelves, shall I? Then I’ll bring up what you need for tonight.’

Seranne went in later after further discussions with Luke and her mother, and found him wiping the tops of the shelves. ‘Mr Connors,’ she said hesitantly.

‘Come to gloat, have you? Isn’t it enough that you’ve taken my home and my living?’

Anger flared as murmurs of agreement rose from the customers. She had been searching for a solution to the situation, trying to find a way of returning the property to him and all he could do was alienate people from her without listening to a word she said. Any thought of an apology
vanished. ‘This situation isn’t of my making. I’ve come to ask you to stay on at the guest house until the ownership is clear,’ she replied. He wasn’t going to make her feel guilty over circumstances she hadn’t caused! Sharpening her voice, she said, ‘I would like you to continue to run the place and I will see that you are paid a good wage but only as long as everything continues satisfactorily. In a manner that your wife would expect.’

Gruffly he said, ‘I won’t go there again whatever wages you’re
offering
. It’s my home by rights, and you can’t tell me different.’

Disapproval was in every face in the bar. He had told his story and many people believed her guilty of deliberately setting out to deprive him of his rightful inheritance.

‘So, you refuse to help? All right, I’m sure it won’t be difficult to find someone suitable.’ She turned and walked out. Her intention had been to make him understand how unhappy she felt about inheriting the place, but her kind and sympathetic words curled up inside her. If he was that unreasonable he could sweat for a while!

Alun was walking around the corner when he saw her leave. Betty was outside the Ship opening the doors to the cellar. The delivery dray had just arrived, harnesses jingling, the powerful horses snorting and shuffling their huge feathery feet, already impatient to be off. Two men wearing thick leather aprons jumped down and began to unload her order.

Betty saw him and waved as he ran forward to help get the boxes inside. He took the first and carried it into the bar, while the men lowered the barrels down the slope into the cellar. He took the second load inside and was putting it onto the bar when Ed appeared. ‘No need for you to help, I’m here now and I’m staying. I’ve given up my home and my job to make sure she’s got all the help she needs. So you aren’t wanted. Right?’

Alun looked for Betty but she was no where to be seen. He waited a while but she didn’t reappear. Surely she wasn’t avoiding him again because of her idle brother’s demands? Silently, he carried the rest of the order inside, then he waited in the living-room for Ed to come in. It was obvious he had something to say. He wasn’t going to walk away again on Ed’s say-so. But where was Betty? Why didn’t she come in as she always did when he returned from an errand? Perhaps she was busy getting the barrels in the right place. Ed’s announcement had been his own and not what Betty had told him. This time it wouldn’t work.

‘I know what you’re up to,’ Ed said, pushing the door open angrily. ‘You’ve got nothing and my sister has this place. Makes a good living she
does, and with you having nothing to offer, she’s the best you can do.’

Alun didn’t say a word. Ed went back to the bar. The doors were closed as it was not yet opening time, but Alun did nothing to prepare, he just waited, watching the door. Behind him Ed continued to clean the shelves.

Alun turned as the outside door opened, a smile on his face.

‘Alun,’ Betty called and beckoned him outside, pointing to where in a corner against the fence, the hard surface was covered with plant pots filled with annuals. ‘What do you think of building a real garden in this corner? I’ve seen some fuschias that would look good and maybe next year we could grow some roses too. What d’you think?’

He led her inside and with an arm around her shoulders and looking up to where Ed was rubbing enthusiastically on a mirror, he said, ‘Betty, I think it’s a wonderful idea, I think you are wonderful and I want to stay with you for ever. Working alongside you is all I ever want.’ She moved closer and he took her in his arms. ‘I want to marry you. I know we’ll be happy together for the rest of our lives, here in Cwm Derw.’

She was still in his arms when there was a rattle of glasses being roughly handled and he turned to see Ed scowling at him. ‘I said you weren’t wanted. He’s got nothing to offer, Betty. He’s another one like that Seranne Laurence, out for what he can get.’

‘No, you’ve got it wrong, Ed,’ Alun said quietly. ‘It’s you who needn’t stay. I’ll be here for her for always.’

A glance at his sister’s glowing face convinced him. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you! That Seranne woman has been here, begging me to go and help, would you believe! After robbing me of all I have. The damned cheek of the woman! But I’ll go, only because it suits me, mind!’ He walked out, calling back, ‘Between Alun and that Seranne I’m left with nothing, he came with nothing and he’s got it all.’

‘You’re so right,’ Alun replied. ‘Everything I could ever want.’

Paul had no idea where he was going. He only knew he had failed Jessie and had to get out of her life before he destroyed her completely. He had wanted to do so much for her and if only the fates had been kinder he would have freed her of the need to work, given her a life of enjoyment. He knew he could make her happy, he loved her and knew that love was returned. All he had needed was a small slice of luck and that had been denied him.

He drove through Tonypandy, Ferndale, Aberdare, hardly aware of the roads he travelled, his actions automatic, changing gear, slowing for other road users, his driving immaculate although his thoughts were far away. Outside Merthyr Tydfil the engine began to stutter and looking down at the gauge he realized he was out of petrol. He parked the car, picked up the rucksack, which was all he had brought and, leaving the keys on the driver’s seat, he walked away.

That night he slept in a barn and the following morning he was up before dawn and walking along the road, unaware that he was heading back the way he had come. A lorry stopped and offered him a lift and took him back to Pontypridd. Another lorry driver offered him a share of his packed lunch, then took him to Bridgend. He didn’t care where he went, he had no plans.

He walked around the centre and looked in shop windows but would have been unable to explain where he had been or what he had seen. Late that day, another lorry driver stopped for him and offered him a lift to Llanelli.

‘Llanelli would be fine,’ he said, thanking him.

He slept under a hedge that night, his head resting on his rucksack, his coat wrapped tightly around him. At five o’clock a farmer kicked him awake and sent him on his way. He washed in a stream and combed his hair. His beard was growing and giving him a wild expression. It was
unlikely anyone would stop for him today, but it didn’t matter, he’d stop somewhere, anywhere, and clean up and find a job. His thoughts were vague and he was unaware of being hungry.

He held out a hand as several lorries approached and he was
indifferent
as they drove past. Then a delivery van stopped, the driver leant out and called, ‘Where are you heading for?’

Paul shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter where, just as long as I get away.’

‘I’m heading for Tenby, that suit you?’

‘Yes, thanks for stopping.’ He felt a slight lifting of his spirits. Tenby would be perfect. It was where he and Jessie had spent their honeymoon.

‘Family problems, is it?’ the driver asked as Paul climbed in.

‘Family, yes,’ Paul agreed. ‘My fault really,’ he added softly.

‘There’s a decent café on the road not far from here, fancy a bite?’

Again Paul nodded. He hadn’t eaten since driving away from Jessie, apart from sharing the driver’s packed lunch the previous day.

Walking inside the large unprepossessing block-built building surrounded by a busy parking area, was like coming upon a protest
meeting
. The place was full and with each person having to raise his voice to be heard it sounded as though a dozen quarrels were taking place. Most of the tables were full. Paul handed the driver a ten-shilling note and found a table in the corner as three drivers were leaving.

The young man chatted easily and didn’t ask questions, aware of Paul’s distress. Paul ate with more urgency than enjoyment and when he had finished, his companion went back to the counter and brought back more toast, which Paul ate as the young man watched with obvious pleasure.

‘My dad was on the road for a while, back a few years ago,’ he said as they were leaving. ‘He thought we’d be better off without him, silly old fool.’

‘Is that why you stopped for me?’

‘Probably. Here, take your money, I’ll treat you to that food. It was worth the money to see you enjoying it.’ He stuffed the note in Paul’s pocket and, whistling cheerfully, set off for his destination.

 

After three days waiting for news and enquiring at the police station and the local hospitals, Jessie faced the fact that Paul had left deliberately and without any intention of coming back. When the car was found
abandoned
the fear of suicide filled Luke’s mind. He drove around the area where the car had been found and gathering a group of friends together, walked the fields and hills searching for him. They found no trace of him. Using buses, walking or hitchhiking, he could be anywhere.

Jessie was staying at Badgers Brook and filling her time making plans for when she could rebuild and reopen the tea-rooms.

‘It’s all I know,’ she told Luke. ‘If I can borrow the money to get it running again, I know I can make it a success. Once my customers and friends know I’m reopening they’ll return. I know they will.’

Luke agreed and after discussing it with Seranne, he took both of them to meet a bank manager and offered surety for the loan.

‘I think he still has the empty shop, he was planning to open it as a surprise for me,’ a tearful Jessie said, handing him the address. ‘It was due to open soon. He didn’t own it but the rent is paid for six months. There might be something there which I can sell?’

Luke knew exactly where the shop was and the last time he had seen it there had been little sign of imminent opening, or of it containing anything of value. To save Jessie further disappointment he went there one evening, with Seranne.

‘I feel guilty walking in and searching for something to help Mum, even though this must be at least half hers. I feel like a burglar, or worse. It’s like searching for ghosts.’

‘It’s like stepping into someone else’s life, but remember it’s your mother’s life too. Come on, let’s see what treasures he has in these boxes.’

They opened three of them and groaned with disappointment. They were full of coronation mugs and plates, and now, with everyone having had their fill, they were practically worthless.

‘We have to get your mother’s permission, of course,’ Luke said, ‘but if we put a few sweets into each one, wrapped them in cellophane, we might sell them at the market.’

‘They won’t make enough to buy a tin of paint.’ Seranne was distressed at the puny offerings. ‘These are the only things left by Paul? All that remains of their marriage? I knew he couldn’t be trusted. He walked away and left Mum without a penny, leaving her to sort out the mess he made. I don’t see how she can think of beginning again.’

‘I can. Your mother is strong.’

‘Strong? Falling for someone like Paul Curtis?’

‘We can’t choose whom we fall in love with, can we?’

Seranne was afraid to answer. That was something she wasn’t ready to face. ‘You’re right. My mother’s no weakling, dependent on a man to make her life complete.’

‘That’s a weakness? Depending on a man?’

She looked at him, in this shabby building, spending his time helping
her to sort out the extreme difficulties her mother had encountered and in a sudden burst of honesty, she admitted, ‘We depend on you, don’t we, Mum and me? I don’t know how to thank you.’ She smiled at him and added,’ I don’t know why you’re so kind to us, Luke.’

‘Don’t you?’ He stared at her and she looked away. How could she admit to the love that was in his eyes, and in her own? Loving a man who had a wife was strictly taboo and she would have to get out of his life soon or spend her days accused of breaking up a marriage.

He took her to a warehouse selling sweets and bought an assortment of lollipops and boiled sweets. For the rest of the day they filled the mugs with a few sweets or a couple of lollipops and she managed to stay some distance away, avoiding even the touch of his hand. They planned to visit Maes Hir market on Wednesday. ‘And I’ll arrange for one of my cousins or aunties to take a stall at other markets during the week,’ he promised.

‘Thank you. Mum will be grateful. She still hopes Paul will come back, you know.’

‘Yes, and so do I. We’ll make a note of every transaction to show Paul exactly what we’ve done,’ he told her.

On Wednesday he took Seranne and Babs to Maes Hir and they set up their stall.

‘This is where I started,’ he told them. ‘I bought the contents of a shop that was closing. Pens, notebooks, calendars, postcards and birthday cards, and a huge supply of pipes and cigarette lighters. I did the same thing several times, bought something cheaply and sold it with a small enough profit to dispose of it quickly.’

He showed them how to sell, talking to passers-by. ‘Interesting them enough to stop to look is the hardest part. Once they stop they’ll be tempted to buy.’

Their stock was disposed of by mid-afternoon and they went to one of the stalls selling snacks to celebrate their success. ‘Hello Auntie Vi,’ he said to the woman in charge.

‘Not another auntie!’ Seranne said with disbelief, smiling at the
rosy-faced
woman wearing a clean, white overall.

‘Which one of you is Seranne, then?’ she asked, handing them cups of tea and Welsh cakes. She was introduced, then she held her hand out for the money. ‘Auntie or not, he pays like the rest,’ she said, but she was smiling affectionately as she pushed away his offered money.

 

Betty and Alun were planning a wedding. ‘It will have to be a small affair,’ Betty said.

‘That’s hardly likely, is it? All your friends will expect an invitation and we have the perfect venue here, at the Ship and Compass.’

‘I’d be working hard for days getting everything arranged. Then there are sure to be people we offend by forgetting to invite them personally. And there’s Ed. He’d hate us having a celebration so soon after losing Elsie and the guest house.’

‘We could just put up a notice, inviting everyone to come and drink our health? But, no, I think you’re right and we shouldn’t tell anyone until it’s over.’

‘We can get away for a couple of days though, tell everyone we are heading for different destinations, put them off the scent. I’ll arrange for a relief manager.’

‘What about the end of August?’

‘Perfect.’

As they began to discuss their plans, Tilly tiptoed away from the door and disappeared into the cellar. A small affair? Not if her name was Tilly Tucker.

 

With the money available, builders were organized and the work on Jessica’s Victorian Tea Rooms began. Jessie stayed with a friend and
oversaw
the initial clearing and the necessary knocking down of the damaged areas. She discussed with an architect the rebuilding. She was busy every day and drove back to Badgers Brook a couple of times each week in the hope that someone had news of Paul.

She still had moments when she feared he was dead. But for most of the time she imagined him sitting in some dingy room, trying to rebuild his life as she was trying to rebuild the tea rooms. By comparison with his, her task was simple. If only he would trust her enough to come back, they could work it all out together.

Her friend Matty Powell turned up one morning as she was washing down one of the kitchen walls. ‘Good heavens, Jessie! The place looked bad enough last time I came. What happened?’

‘Matty, lovely to see you. I’ll put the kettle on, I’m dying for a cuppa. We’d better go up to the flat, there isn’t anywhere clean enough to sit down here.’

When she told her friend about the fire and her brush with death she went on to tell her about Paul’s disappearance. ‘I wish I knew where he’d gone. If I could talk to him I know I could persuade him to come back to me. Ashamed he was, after all he tried to do he didn’t have the necessary luck. Poor darling.’

If Matty felt differently she said nothing. She let Jessie talk about her plans for reopening and kept away from the tender subject of the absent Paul. She knew from experience that agreeing with someone about the faults of a dear one could bring trouble later, when the faults were
forgotten
.

‘Come on,’ she said briskly. ‘Lend me an overall or something
voluminous
and I’ll give you a hand.’ Covered up with one of Paul’s shirts that had escaped the fire, she went back down to the café and spent the rest of the day beside Jessie, cleaning away the smoke stains from the walls.

 

Seranne was still trying to deal with the shock of inheriting Elsie Connors’s guest house. She had tried to speak to Ed, but apart from his brief comments about what was needed and handing her the weekly accounts, he walked away and ignored her. She went to two other
solicitors
and asked whether they had been given any papers belonging to Elsie, in case she had chosen a different firm to hold her final
instructions
. There was no sign of anything new. The will was firm and the place was hers.

The café she ran with Babs continued to increase in popularity and Tony still spent a few hours each day helping them. Occasionally the three of them went to the pictures and he always sat next to Seranne, leaning towards her to share the fun during a comedy and taking her hand when danger threatened the flickering characters on the screen. Once he leant over and kissed her cheek and Babs winked and whispered, ‘I knew it! You’ll be my sister-in-law before the end of the year.’

‘Not a chance!’ Seranne hissed back. If Tony heard he made no comment.

 

Paul found work in the kitchen of a restaurant not far from the seafront in Tenby. Around the corner was the hotel where he and Jessie had stayed after their wedding. He often sat near the hotel and thought of all his mistakes, the list passing through his mind like a series of indictments being read out in court.

If he had been asked what was his most disliked job, he would have answered without hesitation, washing dishes and pans. So there was some strange satisfaction in accepting the vacancy; he considered it a suitable punishment to scour dirty pans and scrape away stale food and deal with the resulting mess at the end of each shift.

Part of him hoped someone would see him and tell Jessie where he was
to be found and another part knew he didn’t deserve an end to his misery. He was fed at the restaurant and he put aside every penny of his wages once the rent of his room was paid. He tried not to think of the factory he had lost and the dream of opening a smart, modern shop selling
beautiful
china, or his most recent idea of supplying catering equipment.

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