Moonlight and Ashes (33 page)

Turning as one, they fumbled their way to the entrance of the cave and were shocked to see that the tide was sweeping in and was only yards away from them.

‘Bleedin’ ’ell!’ Gus gasped in alarm as he looked along the beach. The sea was already lapping against the cliff in places, effectively stopping them from going back the way they had come.

‘We’ll have to shin up the cliff,’ he told Danny, but the other boy shook his head.

‘You can if yer like, but I’m goin’ back the way I come. If I don’t get me gas mask an’ me satchel, I’ll get a right ear-waggin’ off Eric, not to mention Miss Williams. All our homework is in our bags, don’t forget.’

Soho Gus nodded in agreement. ‘Yer right. An’ I forgot I left Albert in me bag so he wouldn’t get wet. I tell yer what - let’s take our shoes an’ socks off an’ make a run fer it.’

In no time at all, both boys had their shoes dangling from their hands as they watched the fast-approaching tide.

‘Right, now when I say, make a run fer it,’ Gus commanded. A wave rolled in across their bare toes and they both shuddered as they waited for it to ebb.

‘Right -
now
!’

As one, they gambolled across the beach, keeping as close to the cliff-face as they could. By the time they managed to reach their discarded schoolbags they were both breathless and their trousers were soaked right up to the knees. Gus sat down on a large rock and began to wipe the wet sand from in between his toes before tugging his damp shoes and socks back on, then waited while Danny did the same.

As they surveyed each other, they began to giggle. The wind and the spray from the sea had whipped their hair into a tangle and with their soaking trousers and grubby hands they looked a right sorry sight.

‘Do yer reckon we’re gonna get it in the neck?’ Gus asked.

‘Probably, but it was that good it will be worth it,’ Danny replied, then with a last look at the sea they began the long ascent up the cliffside.

Danny’s worst fears were confirmed when, as he neared
Tremarfon
, he saw Eric standing at the window looking out for him.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ he demanded, the second Danny put his foot through the door.

‘I er . . . Well, the thing is, Soho Gus wanted to show me the caves down on the beach an’ we just sort o’ lost track o’ time,’ Danny admitted sheepishly.

Eric lifted a plate out of the oven and slammed it down onto the table. Danny eyed it with distaste. Whatever it was, it was all shrivelled up and looked very unappetising.

‘I’m just about sick of you two clearing off willy-nilly. Wouldn’t it have been courteous to come and tell me you were planning to go out first?’ Not waiting for an answer, Eric went on, ‘There’s your dinner, young man. Or at least what’s left of it. Don’t blame me if it’s inedible.’

Obviously deeply annoyed, he snatched up his coat and slammed out of the house without so much as another word.

Shame-faced, Danny eyed the ruined dinner. He supposed now that he
had
been rather thoughtless. Eric had obviously been very worried when he didn’t arrive home on time. A smile spread across his face at the thought. If Eric was worried then it must mean that he cared for him . . . at least a little bit?

Lifting a piece of the now unidentifiable meat from his plate, he offered it to Samson who, after giving it a sniff, pushed his nose in the air in disgust and walked away to collapse in front of the fire. Hemily did the same when Danny offered her some so he scraped the meal into the bin and put his plate in the sink before crossing to stand at the kitchen window. The lights of the outhouse were shining into the darkness outside, which meant that Eric must be in there painting.

Crossing to his own small easel, Danny pulled it into the light, and while the memory was fresh in his mind, he began to try and capture the picture of the windswept beach on canvas.

 

Down in the village, Lizzie was cowering at the side of the fire as she listened to Mr and Mrs Evans having a blazing row. They were upstairs in their bedroom, but even so, Lizzie could hear every single word they said.

‘Mother, you
have
to give the child some freedom,’ she heard Mr Evans say. His voice was wheezy and weak, but nonetheless it carried down the stairs.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ his wife retaliated. ‘Now come along and drink this soup whilst it’s hot. You know what the doctor said. You have to keep your strength up.’

The sound of a spoon clattering onto the bare wooden floorboards above told Lizzie that Mr Evans was not prepared to do as he was told, even if he was poorly.

‘Daffyd,
shame
on you, after I’ve gone to all the trouble of making it for you too!’

‘
Bugger
the soup and
listen
to me, will you, woman?’

There was an outraged cry from Mrs Evans and then a softening in his voice as her husband addressed her again. ‘This obsession with the little one is unhealthy, Blodwyn. Surely you can see it? She’s a grand little girl, there’s no denying it, but she’s not yours! Stop and think what you’re doing, love; you drove our boys away with your obsession.’

‘And do you really think I don’t know that, Father?’ The woman’s voice was full of sorrow.

‘Then why are you dressing her in Megan’s clothes? And why did you get all of our daughter’s dollies down out of the loft for her?’

‘Because they were lying up there doing nothing. It was her birthday and her mother didn’t send her anything, did she? So how could I see the child with nothing? You’re letting your imagination run away with you, so you are.’

A coughing fit stopped Mr Evans from arguing further and Lizzie listened with dread as she heard Blodwyn’s footsteps on the stairs. When the woman appeared in the doorway balancing a tray, she nodded at Lizzie affectionately.

‘Now then,
bach
. I’ll just set these dishes in the sink and then we’ll do your homework, shall we?’

Lizzie sighed resignedly, longing for the time when she could escape to her room, and wishing with all her heart that she was back at home in Coventry, with her mother.

Heaving herself up from her knees in the outside privy, Jo swiped her hand across the back of her mouth. For the last week she seemed to have done nothing but vomit and she felt like death on legs. Up until now she had managed to be on time for her job every single day, but she wondered how much longer she could manage it. Apart from herself, Maggie and Ellen, no one else knew of her condition as yet, but in a few weeks’ time she would no longer be able to conceal the fact, and then there’d be hell to pay. Especially when that nasty little man, Fred Massey, got to hear of it. It was a day she dreaded, for ever since recognition had dawned in his eyes, the man had regarded her with contempt as if she were something that the cat had brought in. Luckily she was still as thin as a matchstick and, apart from the tenderness in her breasts and a tiny swelling in her stomach, as yet there was no sign of the pregnancy.

Sighing, she pushed the door open and, pulling her cardigan more tightly about her, she hurried through the bitterly cold air to the back door. Maggie was in the kitchen singing to Lucy as she tried to tempt her to eat some breakfast. The little girl had come down with a heavy cold and was far from well, which was giving Maggie cause for grave concern. Never the most robust of children, Lucy seemed to fall prey to every cough and cold that was going around, and at this time of year there were plenty of them.

‘How is she this morning?’ Jo asked as she shut the back door behind her.

‘Not too bad. But how are
you
feelin’?’ Maggie glanced across her shoulder at Jo’s peaky face. ‘You look absolutely ghastly.’

‘Thanks a lot,’ Jo chuckled as she wound a scarf around her neck and picked up her coat. ‘You certainly know how to make a girl feel good.’

‘Well, I’m only speaking the truth,’ Maggie told her. ‘But if it’s any consolation, I know exactly how you’re feeling. I was as sick as a dog every single morning, all the way through when I was carrying the twins. Why don’t you have a day off an’ put yer feet up by the fire?’

‘Huh! I’ll be havin’ enough o’ them soon enough. No, I’m all right really - and I’d sooner work while I can. I just wish the sickness was only in the mornin’s. As it is I seem to be runnin’ to the lav every half-hour. Miss Hutchinson commented on it the other day an’ I had to tell her it was how the cold weather affected me. I don’t know how long she’ll swallow that excuse for, though.’

‘Try not to worry about it,’ Maggie replied kindly. ‘We’ll cross each bridge as we come to it, eh?’

As Jo looked across at her, the girl wondered how she would have coped without Maggie over the last few months. She had never had a true friend before, and to her Maggie was worth her weight in gold.

‘Right, I’d better get off, else I’ll be out of a job sooner than I thought,’ she said briskly. ‘Is there anything you’d like me to do before I go?’

‘No, but there is something you could help me with tonight. I have to get this wedding dress and veil over to Godiva Lane and I wondered if you’d come with me, to help me with the box. It’s not going to be that heavy, just awkward really. I thought perhaps me mam could pop over an’ have Lucy fer an hour while we delivered it. That is, if you don’t mind?’

‘Course I don’t mind,’ Jo assured her. She looked at the dress on the tailor’s dummy that Maggie had picked up for a snip from a rummage sale.

‘I just hope they’re happy with it,’ Maggie said worriedly. ‘She gets married this Saturday and I stayed up until two o’clock this morning getting it finished.’

‘Happy with it? Why, I should think she’ll be bloody ecstatic!’ Jo declared. ‘You’ve really excelled yerself this time. Royalty could walk down the aisle in that. No one would ever believe that it were made o’ parachute silk. Anyway, I’m off. See yer later.’

With a last cheeky grin she disappeared out of the door as Maggie gazed at the wedding dress. It was one of the most complicated patterns she had ever undertaken, but she had to admit to being quietly pleased with it. She’d spent numerous hours sitting covering with silk the row of tiny buttons that ran from the long train at the back to the neckline, not to mention the hours and hours she had spent hand-stitching the lace onto the sweetheart neckline and the sleeves. She had two reasons for wishing to deliver it that night. One was obviously to make sure that the fit was just right. But secondly, she was hoping that she would be paid, for the coal was running dangerously low and she was trying to keep a constant temperature in the kitchen at least because of Lucy’s cold.

Her mother walked in just as Maggie was tying the ribbons on Lucy’s Liberty bodice. Ellen immediately spotted the beautiful dress in the corner of the room, and she exclaimed, ‘I have to say it, our Maggie, you’ve really excelled yerself this time! That dress is fit fer a princess!’

Her daughter grinned. ‘I’m glad you think so. Actually, I was hoping to deliver it tonight with Jo, and I was just saying to her that I wondered if you’d mind having Lucy for an hour while we did so?’

‘No problem at all,’ her mother assured her as she bent to place a kiss on her granddaughter’s head. ‘It ain’t as if I’ve got what you could call a hectic social calendar, is it?’

‘You could have, Mam,’ Maggie pointed out. ‘Why you choose to stay in, night after night, is beyond me. Mrs Massey is always askin’ you to go to Housey-Housey with her. You never even bother goin’ to the pictures any more.’

‘That’s because I have no wish to,’ her mother informed her shortly. ‘But anyway, let’s not start all that again. We’ve already been down that road. What did Danny have to say in the letter you got from him yesterday? Is he all right? An’ have you still not had one off Lizzie yet?’

‘No, I haven’t.’ Maggie’s voice was laced with concern. ‘Danny sounds all right, but says in his letter that Lizzie has never received any of mine, yet I always post them together. I can’t understand it. I think this time when I reply, I’m going to put Lizzie’s in with Danny’s. That way, he can pass it on to her, because he seems to be getting his all right.’

‘Sounds a bit fishy if yer were to ask me,’ Ellen commented. ‘It can’t be nothin’ to do wi’ the post not gettin’ through, otherwise Danny wouldn’t be receiving his either, would he? You don’t think the people Lizzie is stayin’ with are keepin’ yer letters from her, do you?’

‘The thought had occurred to me,’ Maggie admitted, ‘but why would they do that? According to Danny they adore Lizzie, though the man of the house is really poorly at the moment.’

‘What’s up wi’ him?’

Maggie shrugged as she coaxed Lucy to drink some of the warm milk she had just made her. ‘Danny didn’t say. I feel as if I’m being torn in two at the minute. I’d hoped to get to Wales to see them both soon. I can’t put off telling them about their dad forever. But then Lucy came down with this cold and I don’t feel right going while she’s not well. On top of that, I have a pile of sewing to catch up on once I’ve delivered this wedding dress, and I can’t afford the train fare till I’ve done that and been paid for them.’

‘I could lend yer a bit,’ Ellen offered.

Maggie shook her head. ‘Thanks, Mam. I appreciate the offer but I can manage,’ she told her proudly.

As Ellen looked across at her daughter, it struck her just how much she had changed in the past months. Maggie had always been a quiet, subservient sort of girl, but now the stronger side of her personality had emerged, which was just as well, from where Ellen was standing. She certainly had enough on her plate at the moment, there was no denying it, and although Ellen was happy to help out wherever she could, she didn’t want to look as if she was interfering, so she remained a quiet presence in the background, ready to step forward, when and if she was needed.

Placing her ration books on the table, she said, ‘Will you be wantin’ me to have Lucy while you pop up the shops later on?’ When Maggie nodded she pushed the books towards her. ‘Good, then would yer mind pickin’ my shoppin’ up while yer about it? Ain’t no sense in us both venturin’ out in this weather, is there?’