Swansea Girls Page 4

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Annie broke in fervently, pressing the damp dishcloth to the back of Ernie’s head.

  ‘No, I don’t. I don’t understand why any woman would stay with a man who beats her.’ Martin gripped the back of a kitchen chair so tightly that Katie flinched, expecting the bar to snap. ‘Mam, take a hard look at yourself and this place.’

  ‘You bastard,’ Ernie mumbled drunkenly. ‘Home less than a week and you raise your hand to your father. Is that what they taught you in the army? Well, I’ll not have you back in this house ...’

  ‘I only returned to this pigsty to help Mam.’

  ‘I’ll ...’ Ernie left the chair, tried to square up to his son and crumpled in a heap on the floor.

  Annie fell to her knees beside him.

  ‘He’s piss-drunk, Mam.’

  ‘Less of that language in front of Mam and Katie,’ Martin warned his brother.

  ‘All high-class and refined now you’ve been away, aren’t you. Well, I’ll tell you something for nothing. You haven’t a bloody clue what it’s been like for us back here with him while you’ve been off gallivanting, seeing the world.’

  ‘I said no swearing in front of Mam and Katie and I meant it.’

  ‘Or what? You’ll thump me like you thumped him? Or do you only pick on drunks?’ Elbowing Martin aside, Jack scooped Ernie none too gently from the floor, slung him over his shoulder and carried him into the passage. Opening the door to the bedroom, he tossed him on the bed.

  ‘Martin – what your father said – when he wakes up you’d better say sorry.’

  ‘Not to that animal.’

  ‘You know how he is,’ Annie begged. ‘There’ll be no peace ...’

  ‘There’s never been any of that in this house, Mam, and there won’t be while you stay with him.’

  Annie stared at the mess of broken crockery and spilled tea on the floor, and began to cry. Soft, fat, silent tears that tore at Martin’s heartstrings.

  ‘This is my fault. I shouldn’t have borrowed Judy’s dress.’ Katie crouched and gathered the larger pieces of teapot, all the while staring at the floor so her mother and brother wouldn’t see her own tears.

  ‘There’s only one person to blame and it’s neither of you.’ Martin lifted the dustpan and brush out from under the sink.

  ‘Out the way, both of you. Katie, you’ll dirty Judy’s dress.’

  ‘I can wash it.’

  ‘If you’re going out you’d best be on your way.’

  Martin helped his sister to her feet. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Mam.’ He gave her a reassuring hug.

  ‘I don’t feel like going out now.’

  ‘Best you don’t stay here. You’ve enough money?’

  ‘I kept back five shillings.’ As she opened her bag, her face fell.

  ‘I saw Dad in your room earlier.’ Putting his hand in his back trouser pocket, he handed her a ten-shilling note. ‘Try and forget this happened. Have a good time.’

  ‘Marty ...’

  ‘I’ll be leaving but I’ll not go far without you.’ He pulled out his handkerchief and blotted her tears. ‘Go on.’ He smiled. ‘You’ll miss the other girls if you hang around.’

  ‘You really going?’ Jack shovelled a pile of old comics on to the floor so he could sit on the windowsill.

  ‘Yes.’ Martin flicked the catches on his case, opened it flat on the bed they shared and separated his clothes from Jack’s on the rail.

  ‘It must be nice to be able to afford to move on when you feel like it.’

  ‘Army pay doesn’t allow for much in the way of savings.’

  ‘You’ve enough set aside to put this bloody mess of a family behind you.’

  ‘Jack ...’

  ‘It’s all right, I’d probably do the same in your shoes.’

  Martin looked at his brother and saw misery and disappointment behind the swagger and bravado. ‘I shouldn’t have come back, not here. It was hard enough when I was away, thinking of Mam and you and Katie getting the rough edge of Dad’s hand, but my being here only makes things worse for Mam. And I can’t stay and watch it, Jack. I’m sorry.’ He pleaded for understanding. ‘I just can’t.’

  ‘I could come with you.’

  ‘You will as soon as I find somewhere big enough for all of us. But I don’t know where I’ll be sleeping tonight.’

  ‘I’ve slept rough before. There’s still a lot of houses round here with air-raid shelters. Some of them aren’t that damp.’

  ‘And Mam and Katie?’

  ‘You heard Mam. She won’t leave him and Katie won’t leave without her.’

  ‘I know it’s a lot to ask, but please stay until I find somewhere decent for all of us. I’ll sleep easier knowing you’re here if Dad decides to have another go.’

  ‘The last time I got between him and Mam was the week I got out of Borstal. He broke my arm. That’s why my call-up’s been delayed for a year.’

  ‘You never wrote ...’

  ‘It mended,’ Jack interrupted, in a tone that warned Martin to drop the subject.

  ‘I’ll find someone to put me up for tonight and I’ll start looking for rooms first thing tomorrow.’ Snapping the locks on the case, Martin lifted it from the bed and walked to the door. He glanced back at the double bed covered with a patchwork of rags that had been worn even before his mother had laboriously stitched them together. ‘I know there’s a shortage of rooms around here but I’ll try to find a place for the four of us. Then there’ll be no more broken arms or black eyes and, if I have to, I’ll carry Mam there and lock her in so she can’t come back here.’

  ‘Between us we could ...’ Jack’s voice trailed as he realised the magnitude of what he was about to suggest.

  ‘Tackle him? We’d probably kill him and there are laws against that.’

  ‘You haven’t been here.’

  ‘But I’m here now. And like I said to Katie, I’ll not go far.’

  ‘But you won’t be in this bloody house.’

  ‘Watch over Katie and Mam until I can get the three of you out.’

  ‘We’ve managed without you for two years. We’ll manage again.’

  ‘I promise you won’t have to manage much longer, Jack. I’m going to change things, for all of us.’

  ‘Seeing is believing.’ Jack turned his back as Martin offered him his hand.

  ‘Is there anything I can say to persuade you to leave with me?’ Martin stood in the kitchen, watching his mother fiddle with the food she’d laid out on the table for his father. ‘I haven’t much money but I have enough for a couple of days’ bed and breakfast for the four of us while I look for rooms,’ he pressed.

  ‘Rooms round here are like gold dust and your father’s always fine after he’s slept it off.’

  ‘Fine enough to hit you again.’

  ‘I deserved it. I knew he wanted to go out and I didn’t wake him.’

  ‘Mam, sometimes you can be downright stupid. If you won’t think of yourself, think of Katie. She’s terrified to draw breath in front of him. And Jack – eighteen and already served two years in Borstal. Before I’d been back in Swansea five minutes, I was told he’d become wilder than ever since his release.’

  ‘Jack’s just growing up.’ She averted her face as he tried to kiss her cheek, so he wouldn’t see the reddish-purple portent of fresh bruises.

  ‘If you won’t go, I’ll still take Katie and Jack.’

  ‘He won’t let you, Martin, and they’re under age.’

  Feeling frustrated, helpless and weary of useless argument, he went to the door. ‘I’m going.’

  ‘Marty, try to see things my way. I married your father for better for worse.’

  ‘And got the worse,’ he observed bitterly. ‘I’ll not go far. I’ll try to get a room in this street.’

  ‘Is that wise? Your dad ...’

  ‘I know the thought of me earning and paying lodge to someone other than him will hurt his pride and his beer money, and they’re the o
nly things he cares about, but I’ll not move away from Carlton Terrace. Not while you and the kids are here. First thing tomorrow I’ll look for a place to rent that’s big enough for all of us. Law or no law, Katie and Jack won’t take much persuading to join me. And I promise, if you move in you won’t have to worry about housekeeping. I’ll pay the rent, bills and put food on the table – and more and better than he pays for.’

  ‘You can drop us anywhere here.’ Helen looked around uneasily as Joe slowed the car and turned left off the Mumbles Road on to the crowded lane that led down to the Pier.

  ‘I may as well take you down to the bottom.’

  ‘There’s no need.’ Helen dug her fingers into the back of Joe’s seat as she leaned forward and scanned a group of boys.

  ‘Looking for someone you don’t want me to see?’

  ‘Leave off, you two.’ Judy opened her evening bag and pulled out her compact.

  ‘I said anywhere ...’

  ‘And I can’t stop the car in the middle of this crowd,’ Joe snapped, turning the wheel sharply to the right.

  ‘Thanks a bundle, Joe,’ Judy complained. ‘I’ve now got lipstick halfway up my cheek.’

  ‘Here.’ Lily handed Judy a handkerchief.

  ‘I said this is fine!’

  ‘I heard you the first time, Helen.’ Joe pulled in close to the rock face on their right.

  ‘Thank you for the ride.’ Lily smiled, hoping to deflect any more argument.

  Turning off the ignition, Joe opened his door as far as it would go without hitting the cliff, stepped out and walked round to the passenger side. Opening Lily’s door, he offered her his hand as Helen, Katie and Judy spilled out of the back.

  ‘You’re honoured, Lily.’ Helen checked the buttons on her coat were fastened as Judy and Katie smoothed down their dresses.

  ‘See you later.’ Ignoring the stares and ribald comments directed at his bow tie and dinner jacket, Joe returned to the car.

  ‘I hope not,’ Helen countered through the open window.

  ‘You’ll be making your way home at half past ten?’

  ‘Too early for you to leave your party.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ Pressing the ignition, he drove on slowly through the crowds.

  ‘He’s never going to drive up that steep hill.’

  ‘He’s idiot enough to do anything, Judy,’ Helen bit back crossly. ‘And if he does come to fetch us it’ll be your fault, Lily. He’s after you.’

  ‘Joe? Don’t be silly.’

  ‘Has he ever offered us a lift on a Saturday night before?’

  ‘I’ve never known him to have the car on a Saturday night before.’ Judy brushed a minute fleck of face powder from her skirt.

  ‘That’s right, take Lily’s side.’

  ‘Side. What side?’ Judy stared resolutely ahead as a wolf whistle echoed from behind them.

  ‘I wish ...’

  ‘You hadn’t worn that frock? I saw the blue satin when we sat in the back of the car.’

  ‘Think you know everything, don’t you, Judy Hunt.’ Helen stalked ahead, tottering on her three-inch heels as two more wolf whistles resounded towards them.

  Chapter Three

  ‘Marty, it’s nice to see you. Our Adam said you were back and you boys were off out tonight. Come in, I’ve just wet the tea, have a cup with me while Adam finishes titivating himself.’ Doris Jordan flung the door wide, inviting Martin in.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Jordan.’ Martin stepped inside, self-consciously lugging his case.

  ‘Leaving home?’

  ‘I thought it was time.’

  ‘Oh!’ Doris turned away to hide her embarrassment as she walked into the back kitchen and lifted a couple of cups and saucers down from the dresser. Ernie was well-known in the street and there wasn’t a woman who didn’t feel sorry for his wife and children.

  ‘Well, there’s a double bed in our Adam’s room. You’re welcome to stay until you get sorted.’

  ‘That’s very kind but I was hoping you’d have a room that I could rent ...’

  ‘You pay us rent? I wouldn’t hear of it.’

  ‘I’m really looking for somewhere I can take Jack, Katie and Mam, Mrs Jordan.’

  ‘Your mam wants to leave your dad?’ she asked carefully.

  ‘Not exactly,’ he hedged, ‘but if I had somewhere to take her, I thought she might change her mind about staying with him.’

  ‘If I had room you’d be more than welcome. But Mrs Atkins has lived in our basement for the last fourteen years and isn’t looking to move, and the only way they’ll be taking Bert Jones out of our top-floor flat is in a box. But I’ll keep my ears open and the minute I hear of something I’ll let you know.’

  ‘That’s very good of you ...’

  ‘Not another word. Stay as long as you like. It will be good for our Adam to have company. Now, sit down and tell me all about the foreign parts the army sent you to. Your mam told me you were in Germany and some island with a funny name.’

  ‘Cyprus, Mrs Jordan.’

  ‘That’s it.’ She put three of her home-made shortbread biscuits into the saucer of his teacup before handing it to him. She wouldn’t have dreamed of asking what had gone on between his father and the rest of his family but she wanted him to know that her sympathies lay entirely with him, not his father, and food was the only way she had of expressing her feelings. ‘Some people’ – she lowered her voice, as though the room were full of eavesdroppers – ‘like Mrs Hoity-Toity Griffiths think conscription is a bad idea. I think it gives boys like you and our Adam a chance to get on. Adam said you’ve come back to a mechanic’s job with the council and you know our Adam has passed as high as he can go.’

  ‘He told me he’d taken his Civil Service entrance.’ Martin was too polite to smile. Like most women of her class and generation, Doris Jordan believed education was an excellent and desirable thing but Martin also realised that she no more understood the system of examinations and qualifications than she understood the mystery of electricity.

  ‘He’s set for life, now,’ Doris continued solemnly. ‘My Arnold said he never thought he’d see the day when a son of his went into an office but our Adam’s starting on Monday. In the Land Registry,’ she added proudly. ‘And look at you.’

  ‘I’m only doing what I did before I went away, Mrs Jordan. Apprenticed to the mechanics in the Council Depot.’

  ‘Our Adam said you passed your examinations.’

  ‘Only the army ones, I’ve one more to go.’ Martin looked to the door, wondering what could be taking Adam so long.

  ‘Well, the army ones must have been a help. That Mrs Griffiths, do you know what she said. “When boys get university degrees, they shouldn’t be subjected to two years of mindless square bashing with the common herd.” As if you or our Adam are “the common herd.” Of course, she was talking about her precious Joseph. No one else in the terrace can afford to let their children remain idle until they’re twenty-one. And her Joseph wouldn’t be either, if his father didn’t work all the hours God sends in that warehouse to keep him. That boy could do with a bit of square bashing to knock some sense into him. Between you and me, he’s been spoiled.’

  ‘Who’s been spoiled, Mam?’ Adam walked in, his best white shirt flapping over his suit trousers.

  ‘That Joseph Griffiths, that’s who.’

  ‘Joe’s all right. Bought me a pint when I came home.’

  ‘Students shouldn’t have the money to go to pubs and buy drinks but I hope you bought him one back.’

  ‘Course.’ He winked at Martin. ‘Can’t have the Griffithses thinking we’re charity cases, can we?’

  ‘Not now you’re in the Civil Service, we can’t. Come here.’ She took the cuff links he was holding from him. ‘Look at you. Two years in the army and you still can’t dress yourself.’

  ‘Thanks, Mam.’ Adam lifted her off her feet as she straightened his sleeves.

  ‘Put me down. You’re not so big you can’t feel the back
of my hand. Go and clear space in your wardrobe and one of your drawers for Marty.’

  ‘It’s all right, Mrs Jordan, really. I’m hoping to sort myself out with something permanent tomorrow.’

  ‘You moving in?’ Adam looked at his friend in surprise.

  ‘For now.’ Mrs Jordan fought to free herself from her son’s grip as he lowered her to the floor. ‘Go on, take Marty’s case up to your bedroom while he finishes his tea.’

  ‘I warn you, Marty, she’s worse than any sergeant. It’s nothing but orders from morning till night.’

  ‘I’ll give you ...’

  ‘What, Mam?’ Adam grinned.

  Martin sat back in the cosy kitchen that was so much more comfortable than his mother’s for all its homemade rag-rugs and patchwork cushions, and listened to the easy banter. He wished it could have been the same in his parents’ basement. The atmosphere in the Jordan’s kitchen was no different when Adam’s father was home. Quiet, easy-going, Mr Jordan’s idea of indulging himself was a radio play or sitting down with a newspaper and his pipe. The only time he set foot in a pub was early on a Saturday evening to buy half a pint of mild and the bottle of sherry that he and his wife took on their weekly visit to Adam’s grandmother. Martin had never seen him drunk or heard him raise his voice to his wife or sons. If only ...

  ‘Another biscuit, Martin?’

  ‘No, thank you, Mrs Jordan.’

  ‘Growing boy like you needs nourishment.’

  ‘You going to Gran’s, Mam?’ Adam asked as he returned.

  ‘If your father ever gets home with that sherry. I’ve never known a man take so long to buy a bottle. I think he must have gone to Cardiff to get it.’ She watched Adam reach for his jacket. ‘Can I ask where you two are going?’

  ‘You can ask.’

  ‘You’re not telling?’

  ‘It’s Saturday night, Mam.’

  ‘Then you’re going drinking.’ She crossed her arms.

  ‘We may have one or two.’

  ‘Not in one of those nasty rough pubs down the docks.’

  ‘Mam!’

  ‘We’ll probably go to the White Rose, Mrs Jordan.’ Martin could understand Adam’s reluctance to submit to his mother’s interrogation after semi-independent army life but he also liked Mrs Jordan.