Authors: Grace Thompson
‘I’m making a figure to be placed at the side of a pond,’ he told her, leading her towards an inner room where it was evident that he did his finest work. The sculpted figure was of a beautiful young woman, her back bent, her fingers trailing in what would be the surface of the water but which was now some crumpled paper. Her hair fell to one side of her face, and her dress reached to a place above the knee, showing her perfect legs. It was elegant and utterly enchanting.
‘She’s beautiful,’ Faith gasped. ‘I’ve never seen anything lovelier. How can you bear to part with it?’
Matt laughed, showing clean, even teeth. He touched the figure, rubbing his hand along the girl’s shoulder and down her long hair. ‘It will be hard with this one, I admit, but I concentrate on the next, then the next.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Faith said, ‘but I’ve wasted your time. I could never afford anything as lovely as this.’
‘Don’t worry, I have some smaller and less elaborate statues – and seats too. Gardens are for enjoying and you’d be surprised at how many people only go out in them to work. Buy your friend a seat.’
Walking through his displayed items more slowly, glancing at the price tickets, she decided he was right. Not only was a seat practical, the smaller statues that she could afford, including the cherub, were not carved but made from moulded cement, and anyway would have been too small for any impact. ‘Thank you Mr Hewitt. This bench to seat two will be perfect.’
‘Matt,’ he corrected with a smile.
He delivered the seat and asked her out and she accepted. From the moment she had first seen Matt Hewitt, Nick had become nothing more than a faint shadow. She wondered about this, ashamed of the memory of waiting for Nick to propose. She was more than fickle, she was dishonest.
The first date was a bit unsettling. Matt was irritable and sharp with the waitress. She assumed that, in spite of his apparent
confidence
, he was anxious to please and impress her. The feeling was not exactly unpleasant, yet she felt a slight uneasiness. Surely he would relax when they knew each other better?
He took her back to meet his mother, offering to drive her home in the van he used for his work. Carol welcomed her and invited her inside for some tea. She was obviously pleased to meet her and from the way Matt introduced her she knew that he too was enjoying her company. The flattery gave her face an added glow and she was aware of a growing excitement. Matt looked at her with such obvious delight in his dark eyes that she felt more attractive, more confident. Before they parted at her door he said, ‘My mother likes you and I want to see you again.’
‘And if she had not?’ she asked teasingly.
‘I introduced you to show off and impress my mother, not please her. You are a lovely lady, Miss Faith Pryor. Nothing anyone said would stop me wanting to see you again and again.’
They began to meet with increasing regularity and it was soon apparent that Matt Hewitt would be an ardent lover. She was unsure, she harboured doubts about him letting her down but desire was strong, lovemaking promising an escape from loneliness at last. He wanted to spend every moment he could with her and she was
flattered
, and very much in love. For the next six weeks they were inseparable.
He lost his temper with a boy on a bicycle who rode along the pavement when they were walking back one evening and there were
other instances of his impatience. His occasional bouts of temper worried her, although he never showed the slightest hint of anger towards her, his attitude being gentle, protective and caring. A young man whom he employed to help had been cuffed several times, a previous assistant had been chased from the yard after forgetting to pass on a message. These events she hadn’t witnessed, but there were always people willing to spread gossip.
One evening she met the father of a pupil, who stopped her and asked about his son’s progress. Matt came running up demanding to know what the man wanted and almost dragged Faith away before she could introduce them. Later she saw that the man had a bruise on his face and although he didn’t explain she had the frightening feeling that Matt had struck him.
His mother Carol denied all the stories and said Matt was a reasonable man. ‘Although he isn’t a fool and not easily taken in by people trying to cheat him. He’s fine as long as people behave correctly towards him,’ she said, but Faith was not fully convinced.
Between their meetings her friendly landlady was kept abreast of the romance that was growing like a hothouse plant and she strongly approved of the handsome young man with his undoubted talent and his business.
Matt lived in the house adjoining the yard with his mother and Carol seemed as happy about their fast-growing relationship as Faith and Matt were. The house became Faith’s second home and her
landlady
Mrs Porter visited with her as though they were one big family of friends. Determinedly putting aside her worries, Faith thought she couldn’t be happier.
She just had to be careful not to stay and talk to anyone for too long. Jealousy was an unpleasant trait and one she found difficult to deal with when it reared its ugly head. Only Carol’s reassurances stopped her from ending the relationship and moving on, that and the persistent dream of belonging.
Then Matt’s increasing desire became a problem. She had fears of becoming pregnant, and no amount of persuasion on his part could change her mind, until he mentioned marriage. Her dream was about to come true, she would marry, have children and Matt’s family would become hers too.
In May 1959, they made love for the first time in his mother’s house while Carol and Mrs Porter were at the spring sales.
‘Committed to each other we are. Now and for ever,’ he murmured, but she was still afraid. He had been forceful and almost rough towards the end and she had succumbed as much from fear as from love. It made her unhappy, not a little frightened, but not having previous experience, she decided it must be the same for every woman, that magazine love stories were fantasies. Like her memories of Barry, where the sun always shone, they were not real life.
She spoke of her doubts to Mrs Porter, who encouraged Carol to talk about her son, delicately asking if there was a danger of violence.
‘Matt is a wonderful son,’ Carol told her. ‘There has never been anything to make me feel anything else but proud. He would do anything necessary to make sure Faith is happy.’
Reassured, Mrs Porter told Faith there was nothing to fear. ‘He’s a wonderfully caring son and I always think that’s a good reliable sign, don’t you, dear?’
Six weeks later, in mid-June, Faith began to be anxious. A visit to a doctor confirmed her worries. She was expecting a child. Telling Matt was not something she relished. Would he lose his temper with her? Call her a cheat? Accuse her of trying to trap him like some women she had heard about? Fearing his anger she told Carol first and Carol burst into tears.
‘Oh, Faith, dear! He’ll be so delighted.’ She eased the way by saying, ‘Matt, Faith has something important to tell you,’ then she slipped out of the room and stayed out for almost an hour.
She was right about Matt’s reaction. He was thrilled and looked at her with such a loving look in those dark fascinating eyes that she forgot every doubt, until he said, ‘You must move in with me so Mam and I can look after you. We have to get married straight away.’ Then doubts crept back. The dream was far from perfect. She still found his affection tainted with a forcefulness that frightened her. There were still instances of unreasonable jealousy. Displays of temper when someone didn’t please him were rare but alarming.
Carol added her pleading to Matt’s and promised her a room of her own if that was what she wished. Carol decorated it prettily in pink and cream and in November, when, at six months she could no longer hide the truth, she regretfully left Mrs Porter’s comfortable room and moved in with Matt and Carol. She refused to name a date for the wedding, promising that she would make a decision soon.
Deep inside her was the ever present urge to run away again, but with a baby it was no longer possible. Running away was not a solution, not any more, even though the dream was beginning to turn sour. Love or fear, this time she had to stay and face what life had in store for her.
This was what she had dreamed of for so long: a husband a family, a child of her own. There was no doubt that he loved her. So he was quick-tempered and over protective. Wasn’t that a price worth paying?
I
n the brief time during which Faith had worked at the local school she had become friendly with Winnie James and her three children, Jack who was eight, Bill aged six and Polly five. It was to Winnie that she confided her doubts about marrying Matt.
Winnie laughed. ‘It’s a bit late to change your mind, isn’t it?’ She patted her friend’s bump and Faith agreed ruefully.
‘I suppose I’m afraid because this time I won’t be able to run away and that’s what I usually do when things begin to worry me, or become difficult.’
‘It’ll be all right. Your little one will be a friend for my three one day. As they get older the age differences seem less. I can imagine our Polly being a real mother to him when he arrives.’
‘More important, will I be a good mother? I don’t think I have any natural nursing skills. After all, I didn’t have any role models.’
‘A lot of old “loll” if you ask me,’ Winnie said. ‘Loving your child isn’t something you have to learn, it’s as natural as closing your eyes when you want to sleep. I didn’t even like dolls when I was growing up. I preferred cars!’
Despite Winnie’s encouraging words Faith still had doubts. She had been squirrelling away her wages and guiltily accepting Matt and Carol’s generosity regarding clothes and everything else the baby would need. Some instinct warned her that she might need an escape route as she always had in the past. Even a baby didn’t cancel that thought out completely.
They didn’t need to buy any furniture or other household items as they intended living ‘through and through’ with Carol, sharing
everything
in the house and having only a bedroom to call their own. That
was a practical solution but not what Faith had imagined as the beginning of married life.
Faith watched like an anxious mother hen as the children walked in a ‘crocodile’ along the road from the park, heading back to school. She loved her work, but if Matt had his way she would have to leave her teaching career for at least a few years. Since meeting Matt Hewitt her life had changed beyond all her imaginings. It had given her what she had always dreamed of, a family of her own. Her sister, Joy, had been lost to her in 1939 when she had been one year old, the result of the mass evacuation of children from the large towns, and the confusions of World War II. She had heard nothing of her parents since that time and presumed they had been killed during the bombing of London. Constant searches for her sister had failed to find her.
She would still continue to search for Joy, even though hope was all but diminished. At least she now had Matt and in a few months she’d have the delight of a baby to enjoy and love and care for. Matt wanted this child so much and she had to believe he would be a good and loving father. If only she was as certain that he loved her, or, she admitted to her secret self, if she were certain that she loved Matt and wasn’t just pretending because of her child and her desperate longing for a family.
As the procession of lively children reached the school gates the rest of the pupils were already coming out for playtime and she released the children, except the monitors, who helped her carry the sports equipment into the storeroom. Then she went to the staffroom for a welcome cup of tea.
On the following day, a Saturday, she and Matt were to marry but very few people were invited. A quiet marriage ceremony at the local register office was all she had arranged. Better not to make too much fuss, the dates of the wedding and the birth would be quoted often enough without increasing the number of people that knew.
She thought fleetingly of Nick Harris and wondered whether he and Tessa were happy. Had she clung to Nick because she had loved him? Or had he simply been an escape from continuing loneliness, a reason to stop running away? Was it the same with Matt? And did that make her incapable of true love?
It was half an hour after the children had gone home when Faith
left the school. She had stayed behind to prepare some displays for the entrance hall. Walking home, her mind was still concentrating on the photographs and food from different nations which she had placed in front of a large world map with ribbons showing their origins, so she wasn’t aware of the car approaching. It didn’t actually hit her, but its closeness made her stumble and fall.
Before she could rise, several people ran to help her and one ran into a nearby shop and phoned for an ambulance. Protesting only weakly, she was taken to hospital. Matt and his mother were informed.
The doctor advised her to stay overnight to make sure both she and the baby were all right. She daren’t reveal her relief when Carol accepted that they had to cancel the wedding.
When she came out of hospital she went straight to see her friend, Winnie.
‘Faith! Are you sure you’re all right? Shouldn’t you be at home, resting?’
‘I’m fine, really. I’d love a cup of tea, though.’
‘Such a pity about the wedding. I’d bought flowers and buttonholes and now I can’t even wear my new dress,’ Winnie said in mock dismay. Glancing at her friend, aware of her doubts, she asked. ‘How do you feel about cancelling the wedding? Will you rearrange it as soon as possible? Or have you decided to wait until after the baby’s born? No one need know you didn’t marry, if you don’t want them to.’
‘You’ll think me wicked, but I can’t help feeling relieved. A baby isn’t the best reason to marry, whatever the oldies say. It will soon be the sixties and there’s a new set of rules, very different from those of previous generations.’
Winnie giggled, her hand over her mouth in a familiar gesture. ‘I don’t think Matt’s mother would like to be called an oldie!’
‘Well, you know what I mean.’
‘You mean you still aren’t sure about Matt?’
‘If it weren’t for this baby, I might have changed my mind about marrying him. There’s his temper which I find worrying and there’s something secretive about him that makes me uneasy.’ She hesitated then added, ‘There are things I’m not being told. Carol looks shifty when I ask about his life before he met me.’
‘Afraid you won’t like hearing about his previous girlfriends, no doubt.’
‘Maybe that’s all it is, but somehow I have the feeling there’s more. Anyway, this near-accident and the stay in hospital has given me a second chance. A time to really consider. Lucky for once, don’t you think?’
‘I never had any doubts about Paul, not for a minute, so perhaps you’re right to hesitate. Come on, I’ll walk you back home. I expect Matt and Carol are getting anxious.’
Winnie loosened the scarf around her neck, worn against the chill September breeze, took it off and put it around Faith’s neck as though she were the mother, then they walked, arm in arm, back to the
workshop
and house where Faith lived with Matt and Carol.
Faith felt less and less happy as they drew nearer to the house. Carol was waiting for her, looking anxious, and Faith whispered to her friend, ‘Winnie, I don’t want to stay here tonight.’ Matt appeared and she said, ‘I’ll just collect a few things, I’m going to stay a day or so with Mrs Porter.’
‘Why? You can’t do that, you’ll make me look a fool!’
‘Just for a few days, Matt. How can that make you look stupid?’
Matt pleaded, became a little angry, but Faith was adamant. ‘No, Matt. I need my old room for a few days, maybe more. All my things needed for school are here. I need to sort them out, then I’ll go. Winnie will call every day, and you and Carol aren’t far away if I need anything. Just for a while.’ She glanced at Winnie, aware she was being stubborn, but something inside her was warning her not to fully accept Matt into her life, nor to cut herself off from everything until she was sure. When that would be she couldn’t guess.
Mrs Porter welcomed her with delight but she was curious. With difficulty she refrained from asking questions, filling the first few minutes by making sure Faith’s room contained all she might need.
Faith didn’t sleep well even though the room with its familiar
furnishings
felt like home. She was filled with the urge to run away from Matt and the over-anxious Carol and her undefined doubts. But with a baby due in a few months that was no longer possible. What is wrong with me, that I get myself into situations I can’t manage and from which there is no escape except to run away, she asked herself over and over again during the dark, silent night hours. Bad judgement? Over-concern with the opinion of others? A ridiculous need to please people, have them like her? Had her lonely childhood distorted her natural good sense? Did the obsessional need to belong at all costs colour every action and thought?
She stayed a few weeks until local gossip was embarrassing Matt so much that she couldn’t stay away any longer. She had left her job and Carol called daily and went practically everywhere with her. Everyone told her how lucky she was, what a blessing it was to have such care during her pregnancy, but it made her want to hide like a naughty child. Once she went back to Matt, with him working only yards away, she would never be alone.
With tearful goodbyes to Mrs Porter she went back. Walking in was so depressing that she felt a surge of longing to go straight out again. In spite of Carol’s and Matt’s protests she insisted on going for a daily walk on her own. Sometimes, like today, she met Winnie for a chat and, while waiting for her friend, she stood at the school gate watching the children enjoying the freedom of playtime. A teacher stood watching them, a whistle on a chain around her neck in case of trouble. Games of tag, hide and seek and hopscotch engrossed many of them but several, gathered in chatty groups, glanced up and described a swollen belly with their arms and grinned saucily before small hands covered their mouths. With her pregnancy now obvious, Faith was aware that she was an excuse for merriment.
Amid all the noise and movement, a timid-looking girl stood alone near the school entrance. She was also observing the groups of boys and girls and Faith thought she knew how the child was feeling. An outsider herself all through school, she remembered the feeling of isolation, the fear of attracting attention, afraid of the teasing and name-calling, which was all the attention she could expect.
In her own case it had been the ill-fitting and old-fashioned clothes she had been made to wear, together with her thinness, her straight, unwashed hair, the big boots that wouldn’t have been worn by any other pupil, except perhaps in a Dickensian play. Having a
foster-mother
who had unexpectedly given birth to a child of her own had meant she was way down the queue for anything new.
The girl she was watching wore stockings that wrinkled over her skinny legs and her feet seemed too large. As Faith watched, memories swooped back as fierce as a blow. She too had been small and fragile at this child’s age – seven or eight. The second-hand clothes she had worn would not have been a problem if they had fitted, most children had new only once or twice a year, but the garments had been handed to her foster-mother as hand-me-downs from other children and fit was a secondary consideration. What she was given, she wore.
She turned away and forced a smile as she saw her friend Winnie approaching.
‘There’s a rush it is to get out in the mornings,’ Winnie puffed as she slowed down, too breathless to speak for a moment or two. ‘Seeing the kids into school, then going back to clear up and get the meal on. Lucky I am that Paul is home today or I wouldn’t have made it.’
‘I’m glad you did, Winnie. Now where shall we go, Dilys Jones’s café?’
They settled into a corner where they could see the comings and goings and ordered tea, and lemon-and-honey biscuits. Winnie stared at Faith and said:
‘Serious you looked, standing there watching the children. Dreaming about your own baby were you? Or do you miss teaching?’
‘Both, I suppose. But today it was mostly because I was watching that sad little girl who always stands alone.’ She smiled at Winnie. ‘I was like that, a loner. And teased? You’d never believe!’
‘Never! What reason did they find to tease you?’
‘Because I was dressed like a scarecrow and looked like scrag end of mutton!’ She laughed and Winnie joined in. Then, serious again, she said. ‘I’ve got Matt now and soon there’ll be the baby. But I’ll never forget that loneliness. It’s hard to explain the feeling of having no one else in the whole world. Mam and Dad must have died or they’d have found me, but I might still have a sister and my dream is one day to find her. Perhaps she found me once and ran away seeing what a scraggy, miserable thing I was,’ she added jocularly.
‘Come on, Faith, I can’t imagine you being anything but lovely.’
‘I look more like the best end of mutton, now, with this lump.’
To change the subject that was obviously upsetting her friend, Winnie asked, ‘Have you tried to find your sister lately?’
‘I’ve been trying since I was old enough but it seems hopeless. Everything was in such a muddle. When we were evacuated, believe it or not, there was no rule about keeping families together. We were separated and I was only one year old, and Joy just three; what chance did we have to insist we stayed even near each other? She could be anywhere, and if she married she’d have a different name too. I don’t know where to try that I haven’t tried before.’
‘Is that why you’re refusing to marry Matt? Keeping your name in case Joy comes looking for you?’
‘Partly.’ Faith admitted.
‘Was your childhood really unhappy?’
‘You know I was fostered? Well, my last foster-parents had a daughter within a year of my arrival and after that I wasn’t really wanted. I don’t blame them. When I arrived they were childless and she didn’t know she was already expecting their daughter, Jane. They could have sent me back to the home, so I think they did what they thought was best for me.’
‘But it wasn’t much?’
Faith made her friend laugh then, telling her about the deprivation as though it were funny. The time she had been given a new coat only to have it taken from her, as it was ‘too good’ for her and put in a cupboard until Jane was big enough to wear it. She didn’t tell her friend how she used to open the wardrobe door and stare at the coat, stroke it and dream about wearing such a beautiful thing. She didn’t tell her about the party dress bought for Jane to go to a party, to which she was not invited. Or how she had stood across the road and stared through the window at the children having fun.