Paint on the Smiles (17 page)

‘My mam refused to divorce him, see, so even when your father died, they still weren’t free. But that didn’t stop them being happy, damn me, no. There wasn’t a more content pair in the whole town, I bet a shilling. She had to work, of course, cleaned at some swanky houses near Roath Park. And she did a few hours at the corner shop.’

‘Mam hated the shop!’ Ada protested.

‘Never! Loved it she did, flirted something awful, mind, terrible she was. The male customers loved it and spent more than they intended just for a glimpse of her smile. A proper flirt she was and my ol’ dad loved it. Knew she was only having fun and belonged to no one but him, see. Well met them two for sure.’

When Paul eventually left, he and Van seemed to have become friends. It was she who walked through the dark shop with him to see him on his way. Cecily waited in an agony of suspense for Van to come back. It was so unlike her daughter to be so friendly on such brief acquaintance. Peals of laughter rang out, hers high and merry, Paul’s deep and with a tone that another time and with another person Cecily would have found infectious.

The door bell jangled at last and Van came into the room. Cecily saw from the flushed cheeks and the shining eyes that her daughter had enjoyed the encounter. Excitement didn’t show that clearly when she had just parted from Edwin Richards.

It was about Edwin that Van wanted to ‘chat’. ‘He’s joining up,’ she told them. ‘The deferment is over and he leaves tomorrow.’

‘Why didn’t you tell us before?’ Ada asked.

‘He only told me tonight.’

‘Then why didn’t he come in? Why aren’t you staying there to see him off?’

‘I wanted to talk to you, to explain.’

Cecily frowned, wondering what was coming next.

‘Edwin hoped we’d become engaged before he went away.’

‘Van! That’s wonderful!’ They all chorused their delight.

‘I said no. I’m not ready for such commitment. I haven’t even got control of the shop yet. There’s a lot I want to do before having a husband and children. I – I don’t even know if Edwin is the one.’

‘You’ve been close ever since you were born. Being only two years older than you, he’s always been your protector.’

‘Perhaps the length of time we’ve been together explains why there’s no excitement in the prospect of being his wife.’

‘I hope you don’t think someone like Paul Gregory and the excitement he offers is a better long-term prospect!’ Cecily asked.

‘Perhaps. He’s certainly different!’ was the disconcerting reply.

Cecily lay awake for hours that night, thinking about the implication of what her mother had told Paul. It seemed her mother knew her better than she knew herself. The refusal to marry Danny and accept his terms although she both loved and desired him was clearer to her mother than it had been to herself and eerily close to her mother’s life than she would have believed. She found it amazing that where she had been unable to put it into actual words, her mother had explained it simply and had been able to make Paul, a complete stranger to her, understand.

It was then it began to be real. A hope that she and Ada and their mother might meet and talk, without the recriminations that might otherwise have come between them. She thought of Danny too, knowing her decision not to marry him had been a wise one, even if not until now fully understood. She felt a greater loneliness than ever, knowing that Danny would never again be a part of her life or her dreams. She knew her future lay in helping Van to achieve a full and happy life, while she, Cecily Owen, faced a future unfettered by a loving partnership. Her chances had all gone.

She sat up and switched on the bedside light, which Ada and Phil had given to her on her thirty-seventh birthday, and reached for a book. She had just found her place in
Pickwick Papers
, which she found to be a pleasant way of cutting off the worries of the day, when the low growl of a siren warned of an air raid.

She hurriedly slipped on the trousers she had recently taken to wearing and a thick jumper, and hurried downstairs, calling to Van, Ada and Phil. They settled at once in the cold cellar. All except Cecily had been roused from a deep sleep and had no difficulty in returning to its blanketed comfort.

Cecily, still in her sleepless state, sat and stared into the dark corners of the barely lit room listening to the drone of planes and the thudding of guns, apprehensive that the next moment would contain the blast to take them all, as it had taken Mam’s coalman.

Morning came and apart from the lingering smell of gun smoke and the sight of children searching for shrapnel, there was nothing to show for their disturbed night.

Neither Ada nor Cecily had suggested that Paul Gregory should call again, so it was a surprise when Van announced that Paul was coming for Sunday lunch one day in September.

‘Lovely,’ Cecily managed to say, swallowing her dismay. ‘I’ll ask Beryl and Bertie, and Edwin if he’s home, shall I? It’s time for him to have some leave, isn’t it?’

‘No, Mam. No one else. Just Paul and me.’

‘It’s not as if he’s someone we like,’ Cecily confided to Ada and Phil later. ‘He just breezed in off the street and sat as if he’d the right to be here. He’s supposedly the son of the man Mam lived with, for heaven’s sake! That makes him a nobody in my estimation!’

There had been no reply to a brief letter Cecily had given to Paul, so they presumed their mother still had no wish to see them. The thought made Cecily resent Paul Gregory even more. Ada thought differently.

‘But Cecily, he’s got no one and him a soldier too. I think we ought to make him feel a bit welcome, at least till the war’s over.’ Ada sighed and added, ‘We don’t know what will happen to him. Just think of poor Jack Simmons and all the others who aren’t coming back. He could be gone like them in a matter of weeks. And just think of fighting a battle and then not having anywhere to go when you get a bit of leave. Terrible that must be.’

‘You aren’t suggesting he comes here, are you?’

‘Big he might be but he’s only a boy. Shame on us if we don’t offer a little bit of hospitality. What d’you think, Phil, love?’

‘I agree. Best for us to give a bit of kindness to a homeless soldier.’ He
smiled at Cecily, a gloating smile, guessing how afraid she was that Van would be taken in by the big bold, handsome sergeant. ‘Van writes to him every week.’

‘I know it’s unreasonable, making too much of Van’s friendship with him,’ Cecily told Peter later. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the boy and Van writing to him – well, that’s a kindness and nothing more. Van isn’t a fool and she’s well able to judge herself. But will she? Or will she be taken in by the glamour of him? He is glamorous; big, handsome and worldly wise and so … so bold. He has eyes that see everything and he smiles as if what he wants is there for the taking.’

‘With so many women looking for a man to replace those who have been lost, what he sees usually is his for the taking! But the confidence could be just an act. He might be less sure of himself than he pretends.’

‘Please, come on Sunday and judge for yourself,’ Cecily pleaded. ‘Just come, as if it’s a longstanding arrangement.’

‘Van won’t be pleased.’

‘No, Peter, but I will.’

So Peter came and ignored the surprised and disappointed look on Van’s face. He handed her a small parcel. ‘This is an un-birthday present,’ he said with a smile.

‘Thank you.’ The words were spoken sharply. She didn’t unwrap the gift but put it on one side, guessing it was perfume, refusing to be pleased.

They ate roast chicken at that difficult meal, Phil having gone into the country and bought one in exchange for sugar and tea, filched from the shop. He still went occasionally with the borrowed horse and cart and brought back what he could buy or barter. He brought back duck eggs, rabbits and mushrooms, sometimes cucumbers and tomatoes and on rarer occasions onions. Fruit, too, in season, reached the shop via his deliveries and queues would form as patient customers stood, hoping that the rare treat wouldn’t be sold before their turn came. Ada proudly told the others of his skill in finding the luxuries they would enjoy today.

It was Paul who carved the chicken on Van’s insistence, glaring down her mother’s protests, although Phil, whose job it usually was, would have made a better job of it. Van seemed to treat the day like a celebration for herself and Paul, ignoring Cecily when she made a comment that didn’t include him.

Peter was quiet. Only Ada and Phil seemed unaware of the tension in the artificially cheerful group. They listened to Paul’s stories about life in
the wartime army and laughed at his jokes, even though some were more crude than they were used to. He used the head of the table, where Van had placed him, like a stage, from where he watched his audience and played them like an expert.

When the meal was finished and they had moved the chairs back to enjoy the port he had brought, he went into the passage and came back with two boxes. One was the size of a biscuit tin, the other was small and tied with ribbons. The largest was opened first. It contained an iced cake and bore the words MUVANWIE AND PAUL.

‘Sorry about the spelling.’ Paul laughed. ‘That’s the closest the cook could get to Myfanwy. He owed me a favour, see. Got something on him I have. So here we have a cake made with butter.’ He winked at Van. ‘Nothing but the best for my girl, eh? And iced by one of His Majesty’s soldiers. Specially for you, Van.’ He leaned over and kissed Van slowly, and with sounds of satisfaction.

Cecily looked nervously at the smaller parcel then back to the cake, afraid to ask why Van’s and Paul’s names were together. Peter reached and held her hand.

Van laughed excitedly as Paul released her and pointed to the second parcel. ‘And now this one?’ she asked.

‘Yes, impatient girl, you can open it now.’ He sat smiling, his dark eyes darting to Cecily and back to Van, in suppressed excitement as Van’s small, slender fingers pulled at the ribbons and removed the wrapping. Van was smiling too and Cecily had the horrifying sensation that this was a charade especially arranged for her, some tormenting scheme intended to make her squirm. It was becoming unreal, as though the two people in the centre of it were strangers. She gripped Peter’s hand tightly.

As she had been dreading from the moment she saw it, the package revealed a jeweller’s plush-covered box. Van opened it and gasped in delight. The electric light caught the glitter of diamonds as a ring was lifted from its bed of velvet and handed to Paul. He took Van’s hand and after kissing the palm, slipped the ring onto her third finger. ‘Well?’ he said to Cecily. ‘Aren’t you going to congratulate us?’

Cecily looked at her daughter and asked quietly, ‘Why didn’t you discuss this with us, Van?’

‘No need. I’m nineteen and in eighteen months I’ll be twenty-one. Paul and I don’t intend to marry until then so I won’t need your permission, will I?’

‘Permission? No. But it would have been nice to believe we’re important enough to be included in something as important as this.’

‘Surprises. That’s what life should be, Cecily,’ Paul said cheerfully. ‘Don’t think I won’t look after her properly. Just because you see me in the uniform of a sergeant doesn’t mean that’s what I’ll always be. No fear. Under this khaki there’s a man going places.’

‘To a grocery shop?’ Cecily asked, sarcastically.

‘Damn me, no! That’s Van’s territory! No, I have plans of my own. Don’t know exactly what I’ll do but by the time this war’s over, I’ll be ready to get started. Don’t doubt it.’

Belatedly congratulations were offered and Cecily asked Paul how long he was staying.

‘I have to go back tomorrow, Cecily.’

Hearing him use her name grated on her. He was altogether too bold, she decided, then shuddered at the even worse prospect of him calling her Mam! ‘And will you get leave again soon?’ Her voice sounded artificial and stilted, even to herself.

‘I’m not supposed to say, really, but I’m training some boys now for the big push that’s coming in a few months,’ he said conspiratorially, ‘so I’m not far away. I’ll be back in a week or two. I can’t stay away now I’ve found my Myfanwy.’ He smiled at Van, who was still admiring her engagement ring.

‘Come and help me take the dishes out, Van,’ Cecily said, and when Van followed her carrying some plates, she said to her, ‘Fortune hunter! I thought you’d have more sense!’ She rattled cups angrily.

‘He’ll share the shop when it’s mine to share, Mam. And perhaps he is excited at the prospect of marrying a wealthy woman, but I don’t intend to spend my best years alone, like you! I’m not stupid. I’m well aware of the dangers. Paul and I will be partners but I will hold the reins, of that you can be certain.’ Van’s eyes were glittering with excitement.

Van went back through the passage to the living room and through the open door Cecily heard laughter ringing out. But she wasn’t a part of it. She was isolated, ostracized by her lack of joy.

She heard the clatter of china and tensed herself for Van’s return but it was Peter who came back with a laden tray. Silently he stacked the dishes and when she began to wash them, he took a towel and dried them.

‘I shouldn’t have said a word,’ she muttered miserably.

‘It’s often the best,’ he agreed, ‘but the suddenness of it would make any caring mother anxious, specially when she dislikes the man.’

‘What d’you think of him? You’re well balanced and just distant enough to judge without prejudice.’

‘I don’t think he’ll be enough for Van. She’ll tire of him before her twenty-first birthday.’

‘Today was stage-managed for my benefit. She’s scoring points for some reason I don’t understand. She might be stubborn enough to still marry him. Knowing I disapprove could be enough to make her go through with it. Maybe the fact that there’s a connection with Mam has brought the opportunity to hurt me. Oh Peter, I’ve made such a mess of bringing her up – the lies, all the pretence, they’ve ruined the chance of us being close and loving as we once were.’

‘She’ll come round, when she’s got it out of her system.’

‘She’ll do anything to harm me and make me unhappy. I think she hates me.’