Pontypridd 02 - One Blue Moon Read online

  She busied herself clearing away the dishes left on the tables as Tina and Gina fussed around getting their coats and Trevor’s from the kitchen. Glan ordered a meat pie, and by the time she’d heated it in the steamer, the girls were shouting goodbye. She looked up, just in time to shout, ‘Give Maud my love’ as Diana shut the door behind her.

  ‘Three sugars, Ronnie?’ Diana asked pointedly as she made tea for everyone in the back kitchen of Graig Avenue.

  ‘You’ll have to impress me with more than that if you want me to give you a job,’ he mocked, pulling the kitchen chair he was sitting on closer to the stove and, incidentally, closer to the easy chair Maud was half lying, half sitting in. ‘Ronconi waitresses have to remember all the customers’ likes and dislikes, or they’re out of a job, right Tina?’

  The Powells’ square back kitchen was furnished in old fashioned, clumsily carved oak furniture. A huge dresser dominated the back wall opposite the oven. A large oak table and dark-stained deal kitchen chairs commandeered what little space was left, which meant that the Ronconis and Powells were squashed into close proximity whether they liked it or not, and it was fairly obvious to anyone who took the trouble to look that Tina and Gina did like it. They sat either side of William on the arms of the easy chair that he, with his innate love of comfort, had organised for himself, shrieking with laughter at his bad jokes. Eddie wasn’t so fortunate. He knelt on a chair in front of the dresser, the furthest point in the room from the warmth of the fire, leaning over the table as he watched Charlie and Haydn play chess. Only Diana was moving around, stepping cautiously over William’s long, outstretched legs as she set the kettle on to boil.

  ‘Your mam and dad out?’ Ronnie asked Maud, for once apparently unconcerned about his sister’s flirtation with William.

  ‘Mam’s in chapel, Dad could be anywhere,’ she said carelessly. ‘He has a lot of friends. ‘

  ‘I’ve noticed.’

  ‘When do you think you’ll be opening your new restaurant’?’ she asked.

  ‘As soon as we get around to finishing everything that needs doing in the place. It’s a tip at the moment.’

  ‘One week? Two?’

  ‘The impatience of youth,’ he said in a grand tone more suited to a forty-seven than a twenty-seven-year-old. ‘It’ll be months not weeks before we open the doors, but don’t worry –’ he pulled his cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and offered them to Charlie, Haydn and William, ‘– there’ll be a job for you there when you’re up to working again.’

  ‘Do you mean that?’ Her eyes glittered with excitement – and fever.

  He glanced round the room to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. He knew from signs and symptoms he’d seen in others that it was extremely unlikely that Maud would ever work again, but what use was there in reinforcing her worst nightmares and telling her that? With nothing to look forward to she’d only wither and die all the sooner.

  ‘I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean.’ He pulled the box of chocolates out from under his coat. ‘Here, if you eat all these by yourself you may put some meat on your bones. God knows you could do with some,’ he murmured, ashamed of his own generosity.

  ‘Thank you ...’ she gasped, overwhelmed by the quality and size of the box.

  ‘Quick, hide them,’ he hissed. ‘Before Gina sees them. Another pound around her waist and she’ll be fatter than Mama.’

  Maud laughed as she pushed them beneath the blanket that covered her, and the laughter brought on a short-lived coughing fit. Ronnie watched helplessly as she spat blood into the handkerchief that had become a permanent fixture in her hand.

  ‘You know what you should do, don’t you?’ he asked seriously.

  ‘Go into the Graig Hospital?’ she answered bitterly.

  ‘No,’ he contradicted flatly, disregarding the underlying hint of fear in her voice. ‘When the fine weather comes, spend as much time as you can on the mountain. Fresh air is what you need.’

  ‘So they told me in the Infirmary.’

  ‘They were right.’ He lit his cigarette and puffed it carefully, blowing the smoke away from her face.

  ‘Trevor said I should go into hospital.’

  ‘What does he know?’ Ronnie asked laconically. ‘He’ll be lucky if he keeps himself out of the place, and I don’t mean as a doctor. The fool got soaked earlier, walking down the hill to the café when he’s got a car sitting outside his front door. You should have heard Laura shout at the state of him when I dropped him off at Graig Street.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Maud laughed again. Her laughter triggered off yet another coughing fit. Ronnie sat by, helplessly watching her shoulders shake with the effort. Haydn and Eddie looked across from the table.

  ‘Want me to open the window, Maud?’ Diana asked briskly, handing her a clean handkerchief and removing the soiled one. Taking care of Maud in an alien environment for three months had given her the confidence to tackle even the most unpleasant aspects of her illness.

  ‘No! No thank you,’ Maud gasped breathlessly, ramming the clean handkerchief into her mouth. Ronnie saw fresh blood stain the cloth. He made tight fists of his hands, butting his knuckles together. He wasn’t used to sitting idly by, witnessing things he didn’t like. He’d always charged at problems, bull at a gate, demolishing them whenever possible, tackling them head on when he couldn’t. He found it intensely difficult to accept anything unpleasant as inevitable, especially the progression of a potentially fatal illness.

  ‘Maud, I think it’s time I took you upstairs,’ Haydn said with an air of authority he only dared to assume when his father was absent from the house.

  ‘I’ve been there all afternoon,’ Maud snapped.

  ‘You look tired,’ he persisted.

  ‘I’m not!’ she retorted vehemently. The room fell silent, everyone assuming a sudden interest in Haydn and Charlie’s chess game. Charlie brought his rook down with a flourish, displacing Haydn’s queen.

  ‘Do you play chess?’ Ronnie asked Maud quietly, finally shattering the stillness.

  ‘Check!’ Haydn shouted gleefully.

  ‘You fool,’ Eddie reprimanded. ‘You’ve walked right into his trap.’

  ‘I’m nowhere near bright enough to play,’ Maud murmured in answer to Ronnie’s enquiry. ‘Bethan and Haydn got all the brains in this family.’

  ‘It doesn’t take brains to play chess,’ Ronnie mocked. ‘At least not the sort that matter.’

  ‘And what sort are those?’ Maud asked.

  ‘The brains that enable you to count the money you’ve earned.’

  ‘And you have those?’

  ‘In vast quantities,’ he winked. ‘If you’re good I’ll let you come and watch me bag my gold some time.’

  ‘You’re risking it, Ronnie,’ Gina crowed from the corner.

  ‘Risking what?’ he demanded laconically.

  ‘Leaving Tony and Angelo in charge of the café for so long. They’ve probably eaten the whole day’s profits by now.’

  ‘If they have, you two will be working for nothing next week.’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare ...’ Gina began.

  ‘Wouldn’t I just? You’re only half-trained girls and everyone knows what they’re worth,’ Ronnie taunted mischievously.

  ‘Papa’, Tina asserted haughtily, ‘would never stand for it.’

  ‘That’s just what I mean,’ Ronnie continued. ‘Women can never stand on their own two feet, they always have to hide behind a man’s coat tails.’

  ‘Why you ...’ Tina didn’t know whether to be angrier with Ronnie for his outrageous teasing, or her sister for drawing his attention to them in the first place.

  ‘Time for goodbyes,’ Ronnie rose to his feet. ‘Please accept my apologies, everyone, for my ill-mannered sisters. I won’t let them out again until they’re on their best behaviour,’ he joked heavily, blanching at the sight of the high spots of unhealthy colour on Maud’s cheeks.

  ‘If you’re in a hurry
to go back to the café I’ll walk the girls home, Ronnie,’ William offered lightly.

  ‘There’s no need to put yourself out, Will,’ Ronnie replied evenly. ‘As it’s past their bedtime I’ll take them up now.’

  ‘Ronnie!’ Tina whined.

  ‘It’s Sunday night, Tina,’ Ronnie smiled condescendingly. ‘You know how Papa likes to have all the little ones home and tucked up in bed by seven.’ Ronnie put his teacup on the table. ‘See you tomorrow, Diana,’ he said as he walked towards the door. ‘Let me know how Springer’s goes.’

  ‘I will, and thanks.’

  ‘For what?’ He stepped aside and looked at his sisters pointedly, leaving room for them to walk past him to the door.

  ‘For letting me know about Alma’s job.’

  ‘You’re not brilliant,’ he smiled, ‘but there’s a lot around who are even more incompetent, and if you work mornings in the tailor’s it’ll leave your afternoons free for when I need you.’

  ‘Thanks a bundle Ronnie, you really know how to make a girl feel wanted,’ she complained.

  ‘Any time. You two moving or not?’ he asked in exasperation.

  Tina rose clumsily, falling as she tried to rise from the arm of the chair, and landing right in William’s lap.

  ‘Tina!’ Ronnie snarled.

  ‘Sorry William, sorry Ronnie.’ She bit her lower lip hard, to stop herself from laughing.

  ‘See you,’ Haydn left his chair and showed them out. When he returned to the kitchen Maud was slumped against the back of the chair.

  ‘Bed for you, my girl.’ He wrapped the blanket containing the chocolates around her frail figure and lifted her high into his arms. This time Maud made no protest. Too tired to argue, she allowed him to carry her out of the room and up the stairs.

  Ronnie didn’t go into his house. He dropped Tina and Gina off in the street and waited only as long as it took to see them safely inside. He’d noticed the way Tina and William had looked at one another, and didn’t entirely trust her, even now, believing her quite capable of sneaking back down to Graig Avenue. Once the door had closed on them and the light had dimmed in the passage, he turned the cumbersome vehicle laboriously in the narrow road, pointing it towards the end of the street and town. He drove slowly down the hill, but he didn’t go straight to the café. Instead he turned right, up Graig Street, and drew the van to a halt outside Laura and Trevor’s house.

  ‘Mama mia!’ Laura exclaimed as he walked through the kitchen door. ‘Twice in as many days. You out to set a record?’

  Ignoring Laura, Ronnie took one look at Trevor sitting huddled in a red tartan dressing gown and striped pyjamas, his feet soaking in a bowl of hot water and mustard, and burst out laughing.

  ‘Sure you’ve wrapped him up well enough, Laura?’

  ‘You men,’ she burst out angrily. ‘You’re all the same. Think it’s clever to go out and get yourself soaked. Never give a thought to the poor women who have to stay at home and nurse you.’

  ‘No one has to stay at home and nurse me,’ Trevor protested mildly.

  ‘And I suppose that you, like him, believe that brandy is the cure for all ills,’ Laura continued, this time targeting Ronnie.

  ‘Now that you mention it, that’s not a bad idea.’ As Ronnie sat in the vacant easy chair he noticed the brandy bottle and glass on the table in front of Trevor. ‘Got a spare glass, dear sister?’

  Laura stormed across the tiny kitchen and lifted down a small, uncommonly thick glass from the dresser. She almost threw it at Ronnie. He picked it up and held it to the light.

  ‘Wedding present from Tony,’ Trevor explained. ‘I think he won them on the fair.’

  ‘I hope you make him drink out of them when he comes to visit.’

  ‘Join us?’ Trevor smiled lovingly at Laura.

  ‘Some of us’, she tossed her head as high as her five-foot-three inch frame could reach, ‘have more important things to do.’

  ‘Like what?’ Ronnie sneered, filling both glasses to their tiny brims.

  ‘Mary Price asked if I’d take a look at her baby.’

  ‘Don’t you want to eat, woman? You’re doing your own husband out of a job.’ Ronnie touched his glass to Trevor’s and started to drink.

  ‘Alf Price drinks everything the dole gives him, even the penny a week Mary tries to earmark for the doctor. The children only know what breakfast is because the Salvation Army dishes it up three days a week in Jubilee Hall before school.’

  ‘I’d look at her baby for nothing,’ Trevor protested in a wounded voice.

  ‘I know that, sweetheart,’ Laura said gently, ruffling his unruly mop of hair. ‘And so does Mary, but like most people around here, having to beg for charity sticks in her craw. It hurts having to rely on handouts to feed and clothe your kids. And then again,’ she bent to kiss Trevor’s cheek as she lifted her coat down from the peg on the back of the door, ‘if it’s something serious you know I’ll call you. See you, Ronnie.’ She pulled the rug a little higher over Trevor’s shoulders before she walked out of the door.

  ‘Married bliss,’ Ronnie mocked.

  ‘You can’t beat it,’ Trevor replied gravely.

  Ronnie fell silent. He looked around the warm, cosy kitchen. There was nothing worth more than a pound or two in the entire room. Laura, with Tina and Gina’s help, had made the rag rugs that lay on the floor. The furniture was pine, second-hand, mellowed and scarred with age. The dishes and saucepans, plain and serviceable, had been donated by his parents as wedding presents. But with the aid of a few beautifully embroidered cloths that his mother and aunts had passed on to Laura for her ‘bottom drawer’, and a couple of cheap vases filled with dried bulrushes from Shoni’s, Laura had contrived to make the room look homely and welcoming. He was suddenly very ashamed of his earlier, derisive comments. Picking up his glass he finished his brandy in one gulp and reached for the bottle.

  ‘Tony and Angelo still minding the shop?’ Trevor asked, holding out his own glass for a refill.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s not like you to leave them in charge for so long.’

  ‘It’s high time they learned that running a business means more than emptying the till at the end of the day.’ Ronnie lifted his feet on to the fender and pulled his cigarettes from his top pocket.

  ‘Abdicating your responsibilities in the Tumble café in readiness to open the new place?’

  ‘No, just trying to get lazy little brothers to do more.’ He lit his own and Trevor’s cigarette and rested his head on the back of the chair. ‘This is the life. People who stay home evenings don’t realise how lucky they are.’

  ‘You could be lucky if you’d learn to walk away from work, at least one day a week.’

  ‘Fat chance with Papa wanting the new place open in eight weeks.’

  ‘Anything I can do to help?’

  ‘Persuade the Hospital Board to hold their annual dinners’ there.’

  ‘It’s Doctor John you should be talking to about that, not a mere minion like me.’ Trevor sipped his brandy, allowing its heady warmth to percolate through his veins. His body was glowing from the rub-down Laura had insisted on giving him, which had inevitably led to something even more enjoyable. The quarrel of earlier that afternoon forgotten, he felt cosseted, loved and just a little bit smug to have landed a wife as warm and passionate as Laura. He wondered why Ronnie had called, but his curiosity wasn’t keen enough for him to disturb the peaceful atmosphere with extraneous talk. If Ronnie wanted anything he would get round to telling him in his own good time. Meanwhile there was his cigarette and glass of brandy to enjoy.

  ‘That William Powell is a menace,’ Ronnie said at last.

  ‘William?’ Trevor raised his eyebrows.

  ‘He won’t leave Tina alone. Encourages her to behave like a fool. Whenever he’s around, all she does is gaze at him vacantly, like a stupid kewpie doll.’

  Trevor recalled the interference he’d been forced to put up with from his in-laws when he’d
been courting Laura, and almost said ‘Perhaps they want to stare vacantly at one another’, but he managed to keep his opinion to himself. The subject of his beginnings with Laura was still too raw to joke about.

  ‘Has anything new in the way of TB treatments come out lately?’ Ronnie asked casually, as he picked up the brandy bottle for the third time.

  ‘You’re thinking of Maud Powell?’

  ‘Has she got it bad?’

  Trevor looked carefully at Ronnie before he answered. ‘If you’re worried about Tina or Gina catching it off her, don’t,’ he reassured. ‘Tuberculosis is rife in this town. They’re as much at risk from the customers in the café as they are from Maud. The fact that they’ve reached the age they have without getting it says something. They’re healthy girls, and in my opinion likely to remain so.’

  ‘You didn’t answer my question,’ Ronnie continued impatiently. ‘Has Maud Powell got it bad?’

  ‘I’ve only examined her briefly,’ Trevor procrastinated, then looked at Ronnie again and saw that he knew. ‘If you want my opinion, very bad,’ he admitted finally.

  ‘She told me tonight that you want to put her in the Central Homes.’

  ‘I suggested the idea to her father. It’s probably the best place. She’s going to need a lot of nursing, and warmth. The Respiratory wards are kept at a constant high temperature. The Powells can barely afford to heat their kitchen.’

  ‘Supposing she did go in. Could you do anything for her once she was there?’

  ‘Difficult to say. We’d have to do a whole lot of tests first, including X-rays. If one lung is more affected than the other it might be possible to deflate it –’

  ‘How?’ Ronnie demanded, moving to the edge of his seat.

  ‘Cut through the ribcage, collapse it manually. It sounds much worse than it is. It’s a bit like letting air out of a balloon.’ Trevor refused to elaborate, or linger over the details.

  ‘That means an operation?’

  ‘Yes, but the technique can only be used on one lung. The idea is to render the most diseased lung useless in order to give the other a chance to work healthily and recover from any contamination it’s been exposed to.’