Authors: Catrin Collier
‘Like the nothing that’s going on between our Adam and Katie.’ Doris beamed. ‘Katie’s a lovely girl but I must admit I’m none too pleased about it. Not with Ernie the way he is. I have nightmares at the thought of him smashing down our door like poor Norah’s ...’
‘Much as I’d like to stay and chat, I have to organise our evening dinner.’ Picking up her apron, Esme almost ran out of the door.
‘I hope I haven’t said something I shouldn’t have.’ Doris dried the last plate and stacked it on top of a pile on the table. ‘Lily’s a nice girl. I’d be proud as punch if Adam brought her home. Not that I’ve anything against Katie, except as I said, her father ...’
‘But your Adam isn’t in university and you’re not a snob like Esme, Doris.’ Joy untied her apron and checked her hair in the mirror over the sink.
‘Our Adam is in the Civil Service.’
‘Somehow I don’t think Esme sees the Civil Service in quite the same light as university. But I agree with you, Lily is a nice girl. I only hope she hasn’t bitten off more than she can chew with Joe Griffiths.’
‘Our Adam likes Joe.’
‘Joe’s not the problem. But I have a feeling that Esme’s ambitions for him might be.’
‘You knew about this!’ Beside herself with rage, Esme confronted John in their lounge.
‘If you’re asking if I knew Joe was driving Lily down to Oxwich to see her aunt’s grave, the answer is yes. I gave him the car so he could.’ John calmly poured himself a whisky from the bottle he’d taken to leaving out of the cocktail cabinet so he wouldn’t be subjected to ‘Stranger in Paradise’ every time he wanted a drink.
‘How could you?’
‘What, Esme?’ John looked her coolly in the eye. ‘Lend Joe my car, or give him my blessing?’
‘She has no family, no standing, no money, she’s a ...’
‘Nice girl, and our Joe will be a lucky man if he gets her to marry him.’
‘Admit it, John,’ she bit back viciously, ‘you’re actively encouraging Joseph to marry beneath him just to spite me.’
‘What would you have me do, Esme? Tell him to marry a deb, so he can land himself with a wife like you?’
‘Joe’s not your class, not your ...’
‘Son?’ he questioned. ‘After the years I’ve spent bringing him up and the nights I’ve sat in with him while you were out, I think he’s as much my son as yours, whoever his father was.’
It was the first time either of them had ever mentioned Joe’s real father. Esme fell silent.
‘Please, Esme.’ He lowered his voice, trying to be reasonable. ‘Can’t we walk away from this marriage with our dignity intact? There’s nothing between us. There never was, not from the very beginning, only I was too naive and besotted to see it at the time.’
‘I gave you Helen, I ...’
‘It’s over, Esme, Don’t make it any uglier than it was.’
Heart thundering at the finality in his quiet words, she steeled herself to look him in the eye. ‘We can’t divorce, John,’ she pleaded in a small voice. ‘Think of the children ...’
‘Think of the misery we’ll subject them to if we carry on as we are. Please, don’t make me hire a private detective. He may track you down to the Mermaid Hotel.’
‘John, I ...’
‘I’m instructing my solicitor to go ahead. You attempt to block the divorce and I’ll hire that detective and tell him to question everyone you know, starting with your family and all the members of the Little Theatre.’
Turning, Esme ran out of the room and up the stairs. If she hadn’t been quite so distraught she might have seen Helen closing her bedroom door.
‘And where do you think you’re going, young lady?’ Joy demanded as Judy ran down the stairs in her green shirtwaister and starched net petticoat.
‘To meet Brian.’
‘I told you ...’
‘You told me you didn’t want me to go out with him but you didn’t give one reason why I shouldn’t, except he’s a policeman. I’ve thought about it and decided that’s not good enough.’
‘I’m your mother ...’
‘And you taught me never to listen to other people and do what I think is right. Well, I like Brian, and I happen to think it’s right for me to go out with him.’
Furious at having her own principles quoted back at her, Joy clenched her fists to contain her anger. If Judy had cried or thrown a tantrum she could have shouted her down, but the girl was right, she had brought her up to think for herself and take responsibility for her own actions. She was the one who’d made Judy old before her years but then, she had never realised that Judy’s maturity would result in a situation like this. ‘If Brian were a decent boy, he’d respect my wishes as your mother.’ Joy hated herself for coming out with the kind of platitude she had always despised other women for resorting to.
‘Why should he, when you don’t respect him?’
Joy stood in front of her daughter as she picked up her handbag from the hall table. ‘I absolutely forbid you to leave this house. You walk out through that door and ...’
‘You’ll what, Mam? Throw me out? Fine, I’m earning enough to rent a room. I’ll leave.’
‘You earn what I pay you.’
‘There are other hairdressing salons in Swansea. I could pick up my apprenticeship in anyone of a dozen places and you know it. So, what’s it to be? Do I go out and stay out, permanently, or do I return by half past ten?’
The doorbell shrilled, shattering the tense atmosphere. Joy glanced at the gold watch Roy had given her and realised it was eight o’clock.
‘Your lover’s here.’
‘My what!’
‘You told me the facts of life. Surely you didn’t think me too naive to see what’s been going on between you two for years? And in case you hadn’t noticed his uniform, he’s a policeman. Just like my dad and Brian.’ Judy opened the door. ‘Good evening, Constable Williams,’ she greeted him with exaggerated politeness.
‘Hello, Judy. I wanted to thank you for your help this afternoon.’
‘That’s all right. Don’t rush off, Mam’s all dolled up and waiting for you.’
‘Pardon?’ Roy looked from Judy to Joy.
‘She’s wearing her second-best dress and the perfume she keeps especially for you.’
‘Judy ...’
‘I have to go, Constable Williams, I’m late already,’ Judy broke in, interrupting her mother. ‘But I would consider it a special favour if you try to change my mother’s mind about policemen making unsuitable boyfriends.’
‘Judy!’ Joy rushed to the door as her daughter walked away. ‘Back in this house by half past ten,’ she shouted furiously. ‘Not one minute later.’
Judy waved without turning her head, leaving Joy wondering if she’d heard her last injunction.
‘I’m leaving.’ The tick of the carriage clock on the display cabinet was deafening as Esme waited for John to comment. ‘Don’t you want to know where I’ll be?’
‘Of course.’
‘There is no of course about it, you’re driving me out ...’
‘Esme, please.’ He murmured patiently. ‘Where are you going?’
‘My mother’s. I telephoned her, told her you’ve thrown me out and want a divorce. She said she’d never have me back when I married you but I think she’s pleased that I’ve finally seen sense now. Although she’s not looking forward to the scandal ...’
‘You know full well that I wouldn’t throw you into the street, Esme; you can leave any time you want but I won’t play the hypocrite and pretend I’ll be sorry to see you go. Will you be taking the children?’ he asked, in an attempt to limit the conversation to practical matters.
‘You expect me to take them to Mother’s, knowing how frail she is?’
‘I don’t expect you to take them; in fact, I’d prefer it if you left them with me.’
‘You’ll continue to pay my full allowance into my bank account?’
‘Yes.’
‘And the shop?’
‘My original offer stands, the shop and half your allowance or your full allowance.’
‘And if I want both?’
‘That isn’t my offer.’
‘You’re right,’ she said coldly, ‘I do need to see a solicitor. I’m only taking one case, I’ll send for the rest of my things.’
‘You have your key; you can get them any time. I’ve no intention of being petty.’
‘What will you tell the children?’
‘That you’ve left.’
‘I’ll telephone and tell them the truth.’
‘What truth would that be, Esme?’
‘That you threw me out.’ She walked into the hall. He heard the ‘ping’ as the telephone receiver was lifted from its cradle, her voice, agitated and excited, as she called for a taxi; the harsh rap of her high-heeled shoes as she ran upstairs.
Pouring himself another drink, he continued to sit and wait. Ten minutes later a taxi blared its horn in the street. Esme ran downstairs, called the driver and asked him to carry her case. A few moments later the front door closed. John poured himself a third whisky as the cab drove away.
Esme had gone, finally walked out. It was what he’d been hoping would happen ever since the Saturday night the police hadn’t been able to find her. But he couldn’t understand the thick, suffocating feeling in his throat, the burning at the back of his eyes or why his hand was shaking so uncontrollably, spilling whisky all over Esme’s nylon-covered sofa.
‘Judy knows about us.’
‘Us?’ Roy sat in the chair Joy offered him.
‘Don’t be so bloody thick, Roy. Us, you and me, what’s been going on between us.’
‘She’s a bright kid.’
‘Is that all you can say, “She’s a bright kid”? Look at the example we’ve set her. Lovers, but no sign of a wedding ring ...’
‘Whose fault is that, Joy?’
‘Mine,’ she retorted bitterly, slumping on the sofa opposite him and reaching for the cigarette box on the side table.
‘So what do you intend to do about it?’
‘I don’t know,’ she shouted, still angry.
‘How about you start by explaining to me why you didn’t want Judy to go out with Brian Powell, just because he’s a policeman.’
‘I didn’t want Judy to go out with Brian because of Bill. He was a policeman.’
‘And a good husband and father.’
‘Come off it, Roy, you know as well as I do that he couldn’t walk past a woman between sixteen and thirty-five without making a pass at her.’
‘You knew?’
‘I knew. Oh, you lot tried to keep it quiet inside your nice little boys’ club down the station, but there were too many disgruntled husbands and boyfriends in Swansea for the word not to spread. Bill fooled around with as many women as he could fit into and at either end of his shifts, and it was all so easy for him. Tall, well-built, good-looking chap, they flocked around him and the job helped. Policemen work all hours, everyone knows that, and wives are expected to be understanding, not spend their lonely hours trying to work out whether their beloved is telling the truth about doing overtime, or stealing time to be with his latest popsy. You only have to look as far as you and me. Norah never questioned your comings and goings, or where you were, all those hours we spent in the bedroom over the salon.’
‘Norah was my sister, Joy, not my wife, and I’m not so sure she didn’t know. Let’s just say if she did, she didn’t think it was her place to say anything to me about it.’
‘I was eighteen when I married Bill, young, naive and prepared to ignore his philandering because I didn’t know how else to deal with it. It was what women of my generation were taught to do. All that advice from my mother and grandmother, “Don’t rock the boat, dear. Confront him and he might walk out and where would that leave you? You have a daughter to think of. Police officer’s a nice, steady job, the rent gets paid, you’ll have a pension. And when all’s said and done, every man does it. It’s only natural. They’re wanderers by instinct. It’s not where they go, but who they come home to at night that matters. What do you care? If he’s bothering someone else it means he’s putting less on you.” As if sex was some great miserable chore like the weekly wash, inflicted by men on their reluctant wives.’
Taking his lighter from his pocket, Roy leaned forward and lit Joy’s cigarette. ‘Brian Powell isn’t Bill, Joy.’
‘No, but he’s a good-looking boy. Tall, dark and too handsome for any girlfriend’s good.’
‘It still doesn’t follow that he’d be unfaithful if he and your Judy got together.’
‘No, it doesn’t because I intend to put a stop to it before it starts.’
‘If that’s what you were trying to do, you went the wrong way about it. You brought your Judy up to be independent like you. And you can’t blame her now for thinking for herself, or being headstrong when she believes she’s in the right.’
‘I can’t, can I.’ She smiled wryly as she inhaled.
‘That explains why you said what you did to Brian and Judy earlier, but it still doesn’t explain why you’ve never married me. Or do you think I’m a policeman of the same ilk as Bill, a woman on every shift and two on every beat?’
Is that what they used to say about him?’
‘It was a long time ago, Joy.’
‘It was, wasn’t it,’ she murmured, as though they were talking about someone else. ‘And no, I never thought that about you, Roy. You’re honest and very different from Bill. If you weren’t I would never have allowed you into my bed.’
‘I wanted much more than just to climb into bed with you from the beginning, Joy.’
‘I know.’
‘I love you. I thought you loved me.’
‘I do.’
‘Then prove it by marrying me.’
‘I only wish I could.’ Her hand shook as she drew heavily on her cigarette. ‘But I’m married to Bill.’
‘He’s dead.’
‘He’s alive and well, working for the Metropolitan Police and living in Balham with a barmaid.’
‘Martin looked at us in a funny way.’
‘Marty looks at everyone in a funny way,’ Jack dismissed, as he locked Helen’s basement door behind him and joined her in the front room.
‘I think he suspects there’s something going on between us.’
‘What if he does? There’s nothing he can do about it other than give me a bollocking.’
‘He could tell my mother.’
‘He’s hardly likely to do that when it will get me into as much trouble as you. He may not like what we’re doing, but I am still his brother.’
Helen switched on the light. It wasn’t dark outside, but she had kept the curtains in the front room permanently closed since she had cleaned the room, using the excuse that she didn’t want the furniture to fade when her father had commented. Her mother – she crossed her fingers as she thought of her – hadn’t even bothered to walk down the stairs to see what she’d done.
‘You have no idea what it was like for me this afternoon being that’ – he clicked his fingers – ‘close to you and not able to touch you the way I wanted.’ Grabbing her by the waist, Jack lifted her off her feet as he kissed her.
‘You said you were going to get something.’
‘I have.’ He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a sliver of foil.
‘Can I see it?’
‘You can put it on me if you like. Bloke I got that off in work said his girl always does it for him.’ He slid his hand down the crotch of her pedal pushers. ‘You didn’t waste any time in changing.’
‘You wanted me to keep my black dress on?’
‘I prefer you in dresses to trousers.’
‘Only so you can put your hand up my skirt like you did this afternoon when we were sitting round your kitchen table.’
‘No one saw.’ Unbuttoning the waistband of her trousers, he slid down the side zip. ‘One who undresses’ first is the winner and I’ve given you a head start.’
‘What’s the prize?’ She pulled her sweater over her head.
‘Guess.’
‘Why did you tell people Bill had died, Joy?’
‘Because I couldn’t bear for everyone to know that he had abandoned me – and Judy. I couldn’t have put up with the gossip, the humiliation, the pitying looks and all that hypocritical sympathy from women who’d feel superior because their husbands came home at night.’
‘I would have thought you’d have got your fair share of all that when you announced his death.’
‘It was a different kind of sympathy. A widow is respectable ...’
‘And a divorcee is not. I take it you haven’t divorced him?’
‘If I had it would have been in the papers. Judy would have had to grow up knowing that her father didn’t want to live with us.’
‘And letting her think he was dead was so much better?’
‘It gave me my self-respect and her a dead hero for a father.’
‘And a life built on lies.’
‘You don’t understand what it’s like for a woman to be left to bring up a child on her own.’
‘All I understand is that you think more of other people’s opinions than you do of Judy or me.’
‘That’s not true. I did what I did for Judy – and you.’
‘No you didn’t. If you’d thought of us you would have divorced Bill years ago when I first asked you to marry me and we would have had ten years together as a family.’ He left his chair.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Just going. Goodbye, Joy.’ Taking his helmet from the table, he walked out of the door.
‘Back to work tomorrow and I can’t say I’ll be sorry to go. This last week’s been unreal.’ Jack reached down alongside the sofa and rummaged in his trouser pocket for his cigarettes. Taking two, he lit them, passing one to Helen.
‘I wish I worked on a building site.’
‘You,’ he mocked, ‘you wouldn’t last five minutes. It’s hard, rough work, using your muscles from morning till night.’
‘Anything would be better than endless filing and coffee-making, and putting up with sneaky old grubby eyes trying to look up my skirt every time I bend over.’
‘What is a “sneaky old grubby eyes” when it’s at home?’ He laughed.
‘It’s what Judy calls dirty old men.’
‘You have one in your office?’
‘Mr Thomas, the senior partner. He’s horrible, no one likes him. He shouts all the time and when he doesn’t shout, he’s all sly looks and touchy feely.’