‘Better warn your father when he comes home. Jenny might need help. Perhaps Megan could stay with her.’
‘I’m her sister-in-law.’
‘You have Rachel to look after, and this might be an overnight job, or even longer. I spoke to Huw Davies. Apparently Harry is rambling about killing her.’
‘Killing her!’
‘Wouldn’t you kill a wife like Harry’s if you had one?’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
A young constable was standing guard outside the door to Griffiths’ shop when Andrew pulled up. He was doing his best to keep the crowd pressing around the window at bay, although there was little point in the exercise. Even if he’d allowed them to draw closer there was nothing for them to see because the blackout blinds had been pulled down over every window. The constable looked at the car and the bag Andrew lifted out.
‘You the doctor, sir?’
Andrew was tempted to make a witty observation on the young officer’s powers of detection but thought better of it. ‘I am. I take it the patient’s inside?’
‘Yes, sir.’ He opened the door to the shop, closing it again as soon as Andrew stepped through it.
A light shone beyond the doorway that separated shop from living quarters. Andrew could hear voices upstairs. He followed the sound and found himself in a room crammed with heavy, old-fashioned furniture. Jenny was sitting on a sofa with the landlady of the Morning Star, a bottle of brandy and a glass on the table beside them.
The landlady glanced up at Andrew. ‘In the bedroom,’ she mouthed, nodding to the back of the house. Andrew walked down the landing, finding it peculiar to be in rooms lit by electricity in the middle of the afternoon. The door to the bedroom facing him was hanging off its hinges. He walked around it.
Harry Griffiths was sitting slumped forward on a double bed. Huw Davies stood next to him, the sergeant, notebook in hand, was sitting in a Lloyd Loom chair on the other side of the room, and lying on the floor at their feet was the body of Harry’s wife.
Andrew didn’t need to feel for a pulse to pronounce her dead, but he crouched down and went through the motions all the same.
‘She been dead long, Dr John?’ the sergeant asked.
‘Difficult to say. Her temperature’s higher than the room, but not by much.’
‘We know she was alive an hour ago,’ Harry said flatly. ‘So why bother to ask how long she’s been dead?’
‘The doctor’s here to ascertain cause of death,’ the sergeant intoned as though he were quoting from a manual.
‘I told you, I killed her.’
‘Killed her?’ Andrew looked up from the deep cut he was examining on the side of the corpse’s neck.
‘I pulled this out of the wound.’ Harry opened his fingers to display a chunk of bloodied glass.
‘You’d better give that to me.’ The sergeant held out his hand and Harry obediently dropped the glass on to his palm.
‘Did you push this into her neck?’ the sergeant asked.
‘No.’
‘Then how can you say you killed her?’
‘Tell them,’ Harry prompted Huw in a bleak monotone. ‘Tell them she was still alive when you came into the room. You saw the blood pumping out of her after I pulled the glass from her neck. I killed her. Tell them.’
Andrew took the sharp chunk of crystal from the sergeant, matching its size and shape to the wound. ‘Her jugular’s been severed. It would have taken a miracle-worker to sew it back together, even if he’d been present when the accident happened. And you’re not a doctor, Harry. You weren’t to know that removing that piece of glass would hasten her death. And that’s all you did, hasten it. Take it from me, there was no way of saving her once that glass cut the blood vessel.’ Wiping his hands on a towel he’d pulled from his bag, he rose to his feet.
‘No?’ Harry looked at the three men through cold, dead eyes. ‘Ask him,’ he pointed to Huw. ‘He knows I had good reason to want my wife out of my life. And when she wouldn’t go, I pleaded with her, I offered her money, but she still wouldn’t go.’
‘Wanting your wife out of the way and killing her aren’t the same thing, Harry.’ Andrew surveyed the upturned dressing table, the drawers heaped in a higgledy-piggledy pile, the smashed chair and the mess of broken cosmetic and perfume bottles, spilt cold cream and shattered glass strewn over the linoleum. ‘Looks to me like she was rearranging the furniture, slipped, fell and landed on this lot. There’s no killing in that.’
‘Things have never been good between us, and lately they’ve got worse. Yesterday I threatened her. Said she could either be my wife in every sense of the word or go. She didn’t go. I killed her.’
‘Harry you’ve been cautioned,’ Huw pleaded.
‘I don’t care. I confess. I wanted her dead, she’s dead. I killed her,’ he repeated dully. He looked at the sergeant who was noting every word he was saying in his book. ‘Is there anything else you want me to add?’
It was strange to be back in Pontypridd after a whole winter away. Strange to be surrounded by hills again after the flat lands of France; strange to look out of the window of the train and see signs of spring in the buds on the trees and early primroses in the hedgerows; and stranger still to walk familiar streets in uniform and not be going to or from work in Charlie’s shop; to be shouldering a kitbag – to be back- to want to, and yet in some ways not want to be home. Which was why Eddie Powell walked straight past Griffiths’ shop on his way up the Graig hill from the station, and went directly to his father’s house.
It was teatime. He knew it would be, but there were two men he had never seen before sitting at his and William’s place at the table. His father and Diana jumped up to greet him as he walked in. Brian put his head to one side and looked at him quizzically, a peculiar expression on his small face that told Eddie his half-brother didn’t remember him, and that, more than the presence of outsiders in the old, familiar kitchen, disturbed him. He loved Brian, had spent a lot of time with him, and within the space of a few short months the child preferred the company of strangers.
‘You should have told us you were coming, son,’ Evan said as he grasped him by the shoulders.
‘They handed me a pass three days ago, with a message that the train was leaving in half an hour. I’ve been travelling ever since.’
‘You look exhausted.’ Phyllis’s mind immediately turned to the practical. ‘I’ll make you something to eat.’
Eddie looked at the remains of the meal on the table. Stew and jam roly-poly. He could have polished that off in no time, he thought resentfully, as he glanced at the interlopers.
‘Eddie, I’m sorry, I should have introduced you. These are our lodgers …’
‘Alexander Forbes.’ Alexander rose from his chair. ‘I would have recognised you from your father’s description anywhere. Pleased to meet you.’
Eddie pulled the cap from his head and shook hands with the man, but he didn’t return his sentiments.
‘And Luke Grenville.’
‘It’s time we were off, Luke. Thank you very much for the tea, Mrs Powell.’
‘Mrs Powell?’ Eddie asked his father as the men left the room.
‘It’s easier to introduce Phyllis as my wife. Saves explanations.’
‘What are they doing here?’
‘Conscripts working in the pit,’ Diana answered. ‘Tell us, have you seen Will?’
‘And Tony and Angelo. I spent last night in base camp, and before you ask, they’re all fighting fit and drinking hard.’ He looked around the room. ‘Where’s Auntie Megan? You said in your letters she was home.’
‘She’s with Jenny. Someone had to stay with her. When I wrote to the army authorities I didn’t know if they’d grant you compassionate leave or not. In the meantime we couldn’t allow Jenny to stay in the shop by herself, and she wouldn’t come up here, so the simplest solution was for Megan to move in with her until everything was over.’
‘All my CO told me was Jenny’s mother was dead. I was still getting letters from Jenny and she made no mention of her mother being ill. Was it sudden?’
Diana disappeared into the pantry with Phyllis, and Evan could hear the sound of eggs being cracked and beaten. The women were obviously intent on depleting the larder in honour of Eddie’s arrival.
‘No, she died in an accident. At least that’s what Andrew said it was, and he was there shortly afterwards. The problem is, Harry insists he killed her.’
‘Killed her?’ Eddie stared at his father, dumbfounded.
‘From what little I’ve been able to gather, not that the police are giving much away, Harry says he quarrelled with her the day before she died. Apparently he asked her for a divorce and she wouldn’t give him one. Unfortunately Mrs Richards was there when Jenny and Harry broke down the door of her bedroom and found her lying on the floor in the middle of a pile of broken glass. One piece was in her neck, Harry took it out, she started bleeding, and died soon afterwards.’
‘Mrs Richards would have to be there.’ Eddie pulled a packet of Senior Service out of his tunic pocket and offered his father one.
‘That woman has a sixth sense for trouble.’
‘Can’t say I blame Harry for wanting his wife out of the way. She was an old cow from what I saw, and I only saw her when I had to.’
‘As Andrew said, wanting someone dead isn’t the same as murdering them. He was the attending doctor, and he insists it was an accident. He did what he could to help Harry before he left, but with Harry persisting in repeating that he murdered her, it wasn’t enough. Harry’s been taken to an asylum …’
‘Left? Andrew’s been called up?’
‘Him and Trevor. And Charlie. They went over three weeks ago.’
‘The boys said Charlie had tried to join up. I didn’t see him in camp.’
‘He’s been detailed to special interpreting services.’
‘Omelette, sausage and chips, with apple pie for afters?’ Diana asked as she carried a bowl out of the pantry.
‘Sounds like heaven after army rations, but I’d prefer ham to sausages.’
‘Eddie, we haven’t any. It’s rationed and when we can get hold of it we’re only allowed four ounces a week.’
‘That’s why I want big thick slices.’ He opened his kitbag, and produced an enormous cooked ham.
‘Eddie!’ Phyllis gasped, wide-eyed. ‘Wherever did you get it?’
‘France, of course. Best French ham that.’
‘But haven’t they got rationing?’
‘Of course, but then,’ he winked at Diana as he tossed her a pair of silk stockings and a bottle of perfume. ‘You know me. There’s always people prepared to do a bit of bartering.’
‘So I see,’ Evan said drily. ‘And what exactly did you have to offer them in exchange for all this?’
‘Bit of this and that.’
‘Not the kind of “this and that” that could land you in the glasshouse, I hope?’
‘Me, do anything illegal?’ He handed his father a packet of tobacco and a bottle of brandy. ‘Here’s more perfume, one for you Phyllis, and Megan, one for our Beth, and this,’ he smiled as he handed Brian a tin car with a key in the side. ‘Wind that up, nipper, and see what it can do.’
Brian unbent enough to come forward and take it from him.
‘This is just like Christmas.’ Diana unscrewed the top of the perfume and sniffed it before giving her cousin an enormous hug and kiss.
‘I just hope you’ve something in that bag of tricks for your wife,’ his father prompted as Phyllis laid an enormous plate of bread before him.
‘Something for everyone,’ Eddie answered ambiguously.
‘You haven’t been to see her?’
‘Not yet.’
‘We’ll go as soon as you’ve eaten.’
From the tone in his father’s voice, Eddie knew it was useless to try and put off seeing Jenny until morning. Picking up a piece of bread, he eyed the scraping of real butter on it, before biting down hard.
‘It really is very good of you to help me, but you don’t have to, Constable Davies.’
‘That’s all right, Miss Rees.’ Huw lifted down one of the heavy shutters that fronted the sweet kiosk and reached for the other. ‘Diana told me she was taking the night off to visit Wyn. I guessed you’d be taking over, and I’m doing no more for you than I do for her.’
‘It’s still very kind of you. These are heavy.’
‘Tell me, how is your father?’ he asked as he stacked the shutters behind the door.
‘About the same. Mrs Edwards from next door is sitting with him tonight.’
‘You finish here about half-past nine don’t you?’
‘Nearer ten by the time I count and bag the money.’
‘I’ll be here to lift the shutters back and walk you home.’
‘No, really, I couldn’t put you to all that trouble.’
‘No trouble. We can’t have young ladies walking around in the blackout, carrying money and tempting the crooks in town, now can we? Call it preventive policing.’ He tipped his helmet to her before going on his way.
‘You’ve missed your mother-in-law’s funeral.’ Evan closed the front door and followed Eddie down the steps.
‘That’s the army for you. She dies a month ago and I get compassionate leave now.’
‘The police wouldn’t release the body until after the inquest two days ago. We buried her this morning.’
‘I can’t say I’m that sorry to have missed the service. What was the inquest verdict?’
‘Open.’
‘How does that affect Harry?’
‘We’ll find out more when we talk to Spickett’s the solicitors. They’re dealing with it. How long have you got?’
‘I have to be back in base camp Tuesday night.’
‘Three days. That’s not a lot of time.’
‘You’re lucky to get forty-eight hours these days. By the time I get back I will have been away for almost ten days.’
‘I was thinking of the time you need to spend with Jenny.’ Eddie remained obstinately silent, just as Evan knew he would, but for once Evan broke his golden rule of not interfering in his children’s lives. ‘You wanted to marry her, Eddie. No one made you. We all advised you to wait, but you couldn’t get to the altar quick enough.’
‘Don’t remind me.’
‘You must have loved her then?’
‘I was a fool.’
‘For hitting Haydn through a plate-glass window when you thought he was having an affair with Jenny, and for leaving her afterwards without any explanation or apology, perhaps.’
‘I should have known Haydn wouldn’t have had anything to do with Jenny after I married her.’
‘Neither would Jenny with Haydn,’ Evan said quietly. ‘You’ve got a good girl there, boy.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it, Dad.’
‘You have to. Don’t you see you have to resolve the situation between you one way or another. If you don’t love her, divorce her, then you can both make a fresh start.’
‘Divorce!’ It was evident from the shock in Eddie’s voice that he hadn’t considered the idea.
‘On the other hand if you do love her and want to save your marriage, you’ve got a lot of sorting out to do in three days.’ Evan waited for Eddie to pick up the conversation. When he didn’t, he risked Eddie’s temper by continuing. ‘If you want my opinion, I think Jenny wanted to marry you for the white dress and the big wedding …’
‘I know that,’ Eddie broke in savagely.
‘I was going to add, and after you left, she realised how much she really cares for you. She’s hardly left the shop since. Harry told me before this happened that she spends all her free time writing to you. She’s only been out once that I know of, and that was to William and Tina’s engagement party. Every time I see her, she asks after you. You haven’t written to her?’
Eddie shook his head as he felt in his pocket for his cigarettes.
‘Take my advice, son. Talk to her and lay whatever’s between you to rest.’
Eddie looked up. Judging by the sound of piano music and the gleam of moonlight on blackened glass they were outside the Morning Star Hotel. ‘You’d rather I stayed with her, wouldn’t you?’
‘No.’ Evan watched while Eddie lit two cigarettes. He took the one Eddie handed him. ‘All I want, all I’ve ever wanted is for you children to be happy. Bethan is.’
‘After a sticky start.’
‘No one waved a magic wand. It only got sorted between her and Andrew because they made an effort and worked at it together.’
‘No matter how much work you put into some things, they still go wrong.’
‘You think I don’t know that? I could have tried to appease your mother until kingdom come, and we would have been just as miserable. But with Maud and Ronnie blissfully happy in Italy from what I understand from her letters, and Haydn and Jane making a go of it in London, and Bethan waiting for the war to end so Andrew can come back …’
‘He’s only just gone.’
‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Bethan and Andrew love one another, which means he has something to come back to. If you haven’t, better to end it now and find yourself a Mademoiselle, and free Jenny so she can look around as well.’
Eddie was glad his face was shrouded in darkness. His father was blessed with an uncanny ability to home in on the truth. There was a Mademoiselle in France, and not only one. There were always girls around army camps. Girls who could be bought for a few drinks and a cheap present. He’d even managed to fool himself into thinking he was happy with the situation – until now.
‘Tell your Auntie Megan I’ll be waiting in the snug of the Star for her.’
‘You’re not coming in?’
‘The place will be full of women clucking over the sermon, the flowers and the service. If you take my advice you’ll get Megan to throw them out before you see Jenny. You’ll be up tomorrow?’
‘Around teatime if not earlier.’
‘Good luck. Whatever decision you make I know it will be the right one.’
‘Don’t you ever have a night off?’ Luke pleaded as Gina emptied a bag of coppers into the till, counting it out into the farthing, halfpenny and penny drawers.
‘I suppose if I pleaded with Tina she might take over for me one night, but then she’d expect me to do the same for her, and it’s hard work running this place by yourself.’ She looked towards the back room where Tina was sitting with Alexander, both apparently engrossed in a book.
‘It’s just that I’m going to get paid tomorrow, and I’d like to take you somewhere special.’
‘By the time Tina closes the restaurant and reaches here, there’s nowhere special to go.’
‘One of the boys said there’s a benefit dance for the town’s Troop Comforts Fund in the Catholic Hall in Treforest a week Saturday.’
‘You can forget Saturday night. It’s always bedlam here.’
‘Supposing I ask Alexander to give your sister a hand?’
‘Alexander?’ Gina laughed. ‘I couldn’t see him soiling his hands to make a cup of tea let alone serve a tram crew.’
‘You’d be surprised at what Alexander can do,’ Luke asserted. After a month of taking everything that the men underground could throw at him and not retaliating, Alexander had earned a grudging respect. So much so that a few of the miners had already dropped the appendage of ‘conchie’ when they spoke to them.
‘You can still walk me home tonight, if you like.’
‘You know I’d like to, very much.’
‘And there’s always tomorrow morning. I don’t suppose Quakers go to Catholic churches?’