Swansea Girls (51 page)

‘Why not?’

‘Because it’s something private that you have to find out for yourself.’

‘At least tell us if it hurt,’ Judy pressed, ‘and how you felt afterwards. And did Jack think any the less of you ...’

‘It’s like nothing else that’s ever happened to me,’ Helen broke in hastily. More open than Lily and Katie, she had tended to discuss everything with her friends but not this. It belonged to her and Jack and no one else.

‘It must have been embarrassing to undress in front of Jack for the first time.’ Lily blushed as they turned to her. ‘I didn’t mean to put it quite like that, but I’ve often wondered how any girl could ...’

‘You and Joe were practically engaged.’ Judy passed her the bottle opener.

‘We never got as far as undressing and not much beyond kissing,’ Lily confessed.

‘That doesn’t surprise me after the lecture Joe gave me when he walked in on me and Jack.’

‘He caught you?’ Judy’s eyes widened as she stared at Helen.

‘Not actually. We were dressed – sort of – but Jack was holding my underclothes.’ Helen busied herself with the bottle opener and Babycham.

‘Did Joe and Jack ...’

‘Joe didn’t say a word to Jack but he said plenty to me. You should have heard him. He carried on worse than any maiden aunt. You were right to give him his ring back, Lily. I pity any girl daft enough to marry him. And as for it being embarrassing, it wasn’t. Jack did most of the undressing and it seemed right at the time.’

‘So?’ Judy poured her Babycham and settled back in a chair.

‘You’re not going to give up, are you?’ Helen asked.

‘If I had been the first, I would have told you what it’s like.’

‘I don’t know what it’ll be like for you, only Jack and me, and it was magical – and personal.’

‘Was it painful?’

‘A bit, but like the undressing it didn’t seem to matter.’

‘And?’

‘And I’m looking forward to married life. You want to know any more, talk to Brian,’ Helen said firmly.

‘In the common room.’

‘You’re staying until Sunday. Why don’t you ask Brian to borrow Marty’s bedroom?’ Helen pushed the coffee table aside and wheeled the trolley Joe had brought in into its place.

‘I’m not sure I want him to.’

‘That’s the difference between us, I wanted to.’ Hoping to change the subject, Helen opened a carrier bag and pulled out a blue satin net and cream lace layered petticoat. ‘What do you think of this?’ As Judy took it from her, she glanced at Katie and realised she had been very quiet, but then Katie never had liked talking about sex. Not even when they were twelve and had first found out about it. She wondered if she’d embarrassed Katie by saying the little she had about herself and Jack. She wouldn’t have minded a girl talking about Joe that way. At least it would prove he was human underneath the coating of self-righteous prig.

‘It’s gorgeous.’ Judy turned back the layers.

‘Matching bra and suspenders.’ Helen lifted them out and held them up for inspection.

‘They for you or Jack?’ Judy queried artfully.

‘My honeymoon present to both of us. They’re part of a new range. Alice – she’s the buyer in the warehouse – thought they’d be too fancy for most people in Swansea but I persuaded Dad to stock them and they’ve been so successful he, or rather Katie – who is the best secretary my father’s ever had according to him – had to reorder.’

‘They’re stunning. Are they still in stock, Katie? I would love a set in green ...’

‘Sea-green, rose-pink, lemon and sky-blue,’ Katie recited knowledgeably, ‘and last time I looked, which was yesterday afternoon, we had a couple of sets left in each colour.’

‘Katie and I splashed out after we saw Helen’s and bought sets in pink.’ Lily handed round plates and napkins.

‘Then they’re not too dear.’

‘Depends what you mean by “dear”,’ Lily qualified. ‘The bra’s seven and six, the suspenders twelve and six but the petticoat was three pounds nineteen and eleven.’

‘Ouch.’

‘The lace is real and quality costs.’ Helen folded the petticoat and bra back into the bag.

‘That’s just what the wardrobe mistress in work says.’ Judy helped herself to a ham sandwich. ‘She’s always complaining about the cost of trimmings. She says she has to pay more for a yard of two-inch lace than thirty-six-inch-wide plain cotton.’

‘How you can envy me when you work with famous people in London, Judy, I’ll never know.’ Helen wouldn’t have switched places with Judy for all the money in Swansea but, bursting with happiness, she wanted her friends to feel just the way she did.

‘The senior make-up and hair stylists work on the famous ones. I only get the people who come in for news interviews, or extras from the dramas.’

‘But you’ll get promoted.’ Lily put a pasty and sausage roll on her plate.

‘Possibly, when I’m a hundred and twenty and on the verge of retirement,’ Judy said gloomily.

‘Come on, Judy, it can’t be that bad,’ Helen admonished.

‘I should never have gone up there.’

‘But I thought you were having a great time. Your letters...’

‘I could hardly write “Dear All in Carlton Terrace, London is a horrible, filthy city plagued by pea soup smogs you can’t breathe in, the hostel food is worse than the pigswill that used to be left over from school dinners, the warden makes the wicked queen in
Snow White
look like a nice old granny and by the way, the job’s not up to much either. It’s bloody hard work – pardon my French – and boring. A junior make-up and hair stylist is at the beck and call of the entire department, gets the blame for every single thing that goes wrong and none of the thanks when it goes right. Love Judy. PS In case you haven’t guessed, I’m homesick and miserable as sin.”’

‘But after work you have Brian,’ Lily protested.

‘We barely see enough of one another to ask, “How’s it going?” I work late afternoons, evenings and every other weekend; he works shifts so we’re lucky if we get together a couple of hours a week, and as I said earlier, there’s nowhere we can go except the common rooms in the hostels, a café or, if they’re open at that time of day, the pictures. And the rest of the time I’m so bloody lonely I could cry. Sorry, swearing’s getting to be a bad habit. People I work with do it all the time.’ Reaching into her pocket for a handkerchief, Judy dabbed her eyes. ‘That’s why I want to know what it’s like, Helen. It might be different if I did have someone up there besides Brian but I don’t, and I’m terrified he’ll go off and find another girl. I thought that if I slept with him we might become closer and then he’d stop volunteering for overtime and spend more time with me.’

‘It would be fantastic if you did come back.’ Katie was almost in tears herself.

‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me since I left Swansea and I had to come back to hear it.’ Judy hugged Katie as she moved next to her on the sofa. ‘I talked it over with my mother earlier. She said if I do come back, she’ll open another salon and let me run it for her. I would have to answer to her, but she wouldn’t be there day to day, so it would almost be like being my own boss. And there’s you three. You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed you.’ She hugged Katie again. ‘And our talks and nights out together. In London I even go to the pictures by myself if Brian’s not free on my night off. People there are too stuck up to give you the time of day. I thought before I went I’d make friends, but outside of Brian I hardly know a soul, certainly no one I can talk to beyond saying, “nice weather” or “it’s raining again”.’

‘Does Brian want to come back too?’ Helen demolished the pasty on her plate in two bites.

‘I doubt it. All he can talk about is his new job and promotion prospects.’

‘So what are you going to do?’ Lily asked.

‘Some hard thinking over the weekend.’

‘So it’s Brian and London or Swansea and your own salon.’

‘You make it sound simple, Helen. But it’s more complicated than that. There’s my pride for one thing. I hate the thought of coming back here tagged with failure after barely a month.’

‘Sounds more like common sense if you’re that unhappy, unless you really love Brian and don’t want to leave him.’ Lily took the fresh bottle of Babycham Helen handed her.

‘That’s just it, I’m not sure whether I love him or not but I thought that if we made love ...’

‘He’s trying to push you into it,’ Helen broke in indignantly.

‘No. To be honest he hasn’t tried much beyond a quick kiss and fumble around my bra area since we lived here and I slapped his face for trying to take more liberties than I was prepared to give. That’s another thing that’s bothering me. If he loved me he’d want more. Wouldn’t he?’ Judy looked to Helen for confirmation.

‘You just said you don’t have anywhere private to go,’ Lily pointed out.

‘It wouldn’t be easy to find a place but if he were serious he’d make an effort to look for one.’

‘And what would you do if he did turn up on a date one night with a hotel key? Slap his face, or shout “goody” and run ahead of him up the stairs?’ Helen questioned.

‘I don’t know because I’ve absolutely no idea what making love is like. Now if you told me ...’

‘You should never make love with a man until you are absolutely certain that you love him.’

They turned to Katie in amazement, the same thought in all their minds. Surely not! Not quiet, mousy Katie who had given gorgeous Adam Jordan the brush-off after only a couple of dates.

‘At least, that’s what I’ve always thought,’ Katie qualified, her cheeks burning crimson.

Judy was the first to regain her composure. ‘That’s easy to say, but how do you know the difference between having a crush on someone and being really in love with them?’

‘That’s easy. Look at my brother and Helen.’

‘We can’t all fall in love with Jack,’ Judy snapped irritably.

‘I’d scratch the eyes out of any other girl who tried.’ Helen threw a cushion at Judy.

‘Careful, that nearly knocked over my drink.’

‘I think that when making love seems like the right thing to do, which is what Helen said about her and Jack, it’s the right time for it to happen,’ Katie murmured.

‘Some of the girls in the hostel said ...’

‘The ones who don’t talk to you?’ Helen teased.

‘Some are better than others,’ Judy continued irritably. ‘They say French letters aren’t safe. That you can get pregnant even if you use them.’

‘You’re looking at proof.’ Helen sipped her Babycham.

‘You serious?’ Judy placed her plate on a side table.

‘To be honest, we didn’t use them until it was too late, but then, everything worked out well for me.’

‘Because you picked a boy who’d walk through fire for you. Given his present performance, I’m not sure Brian would cross the road for me.’

‘If you’re that unsure about him, why consider sleeping with him?’ Helen asked.

‘I told you.’

‘I think it would be a big mistake to go to bed with Brian just because you’re lonely and don’t like London.’

‘You’re not even married yet, Helen, and you sound like “Mrs Marryatt advises” in
Woman’s Weekly.’
Lily smiled.

‘Can you imagine
Woman’s Weekly
printing a problem like Judy’s? How to curtsy and address your new mother-in-law and what colour bedsocks to wear on the honeymoon night maybe – but whether or not to undress in front of a man and actually make love before you have a wedding ring on your finger! Mrs Marryatt would curl up and die at the thought.’

‘And what colour bedsocks are you wearing tomorrow night?’ Judy asked curiously.

‘Want to see?’ Helen reached for another bag and pulled out a tiny white silk hat and veil. ‘Wrong bag,’ she muttered, among gales of laughter.

‘No, don’t put it away.’ Brushing the crumbs from her hands, Judy took it from her. ‘Have you thought about what hairstyle you’re going to wear with this?’

‘Down.’

‘Up would be more sophisticated.’

‘I’m wearing it down,’ Helen said resolutely. ‘Jack prefers it that way.’

The
Swansea Girls
series
by
Catrin Collier

  

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