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Authors: Grace Thompson

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BOOK: Nothing is Forever
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He was searching for a family, but he didn’t know where they lived, just that it was in South Wales and not far from the sea. He had spent time in several small towns, investigating families with the name he sought, but hadn’t found the people who owed him money.

He made his way by thumbing lifts and walking, back to where his fiancée Abigail, and her mother Gloria lived. He had given up his job and with Abi’s blessing was touring the towns of South Wales searching for the family whom he believed owed him an inheritance.

Abigail was not quite twenty but already a successful hat saleswoman. With a car, she travelled around towns of Wales and western England selling to hat shops. She and Gloria lived in a beautiful flat which they rented; she had the smartest clothes so she looked successful and every customer who bought her hats hoped to look as glamorous as she did.

She earned a lot of money for someone so young and knowing how badly Jack wanted to find his family and the money he felt he was due, she agreed that he should spend a few months searching for them.

Abi’s mother was not happy about the arrangement and tried to persuade her daughter not to trust him. ‘You’re young and foolish,’ she told her, when Jack had once more left to continue his investigations. ‘You have a wonderful job and you earn a great deal of money, so why is he trying to find a family that might exist only in his imagination?’

‘Jack has to get it out of his system, Mum. If he doesn’t he’ll regret it later and perhaps blame me. Now is the time, before we marry and have children.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘I don’t exactly know,’ Abi admitted, ‘but I know he’ll come back to me.’

It was three more nights before Aunty Blod came back and by that time sleep had begun to come more easily to Ruth. She wondered whether she would have to start getting used to the emptiness again, after having Blod’s company for the week.

They spent their days sorting through drawers and cupboards trying to decide what to keep and what to throw away, Ruth’s intention being to reduce the clutter in the house and make the place easier to run. Henry came for a meal twice while her aunt was there. He explained that he was off to trawl the second-hand shops in the west of England. Listening to their conversations, to Ruth the house seemed almost back to normal and it was a painful moment when Henry left.

Her aunt telephoned from the telephone box on the corner each day to learn of the progress on her house and Ruth crossed her fingers and hoped she would stay another day. It was only a few small repairs and some decoration and it hadn’t been expected to last more than a week.

Aunty Blod, eventually and regretfully, left. Ruth went with her to the bus stop and walked back to the house as though to her execution. She opened the windows, even though it was a chilling late-March morning, and the front door stayed open. Foolishly she convinced herself that it offered the promise of someone calling, stopped her feeling so cut off and alone, even though no one was likely to come. Henry was in the west of England buying antiques. The twins and their wives were still away. It was a pity Toni had refused her offer to clean and tidy the flats ready for their return, and Brenda, less enthusiastically, echoed her brisk insistence that they would manage just fine. Ruth would have been glad to show them how much they would still need her.

Emrys and Susan lived in Bridgend and they called a few times at first. Geraint and Hazel lived in London running a business selling items by post. There were a couple of brief notes but no suggestion of a visit. She was beginning to feel invisible!

After her aunt’s help the house was as clean as she could wish and she knew that before she gave in to her situation and succumbed to becoming less and less valued and no longer needed, she had to start looking for work, or something to fill her time, but the thought of a job appealed less and less. She was afraid. With a surge of guilt, she wondered if she should forget trying to build a career and marry Henry. She was ashamed of the way she thought about him, not as the love of her life but as an escape from everything she feared. She needed to do some serious thinking about where her life should be leading. It was changing in every way and she should face the future with confidence and hope, not use Henry in case nothing better turned up, like a shipwrecked sailor clinging to flotsam. But life without him would be unimaginable. At least the house was returning to its friendly atmosphere and at eleven o’clock she relaxed easily and comfortably into sleep.

She was woken by a sound from downstairs, like something breaking. She reached for a torch and leapt out of bed and switched on the light. Putting on lights as she went, she headed for the kitchen from where the sound had come. It was empty, but the back door stood wide open and on the table was a broken dish that had apparently fallen from the shelf. Holding the torch like a weapon, she locked the door then searched every room. Each room was empty and apart from the open door and the broken plate she might have convinced herself she had dreamed it. Someone had been in there, but who? No one except her brothers had a key and she picked hers up and gripped it tightly in her hand.

She decided not to tell anyone. She must have forgotten to lock the door, it was time she stopped delaying closing it. It had to be her forgetfulness, there wasn’t any other explanation and a plate, propped against the dresser shelf could easily have slipped.

Outside, hidden in the shadows, Jack stared up at the house. Ty Gwyn? There was definitely something familiar about the name, but the book he had found in a drawer stated the name of the occupier was Thomas. Not the name of the family he was looking for. He wished he had listened with more care when the old man had talked about his childhood.

On the day Tommy and Toni, Bryn and Brenda were due home, Ruth had a casserole simmering in the oven, and fresh bread waiting on the board ready to slice. They’d be starving when the got back and she had left a note pinned to each of their doors promising them a meal would be waiting for them, in case they had forgotten her invitation. She had no idea when they would be back but everything was ready at nine o’clock.

At 10.30, she turned off the oven and sat with the wireless on low, listening for the sound of the gate. An hour later they came, laughing and apologizing for being so late.

‘We stopped to have a meal on the way back, Sis. I hope you didn’t wait for us.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Tommy. You can—’ She had been about to say they could eat it tomorrow, but stopped in time. There were no tomorrows so far as her brothers were concerned. ‘You can have a hot drink if you like?’ she amended.

‘We won’t stay,’ Bryn said, ‘But we’ll come and see you soon. Tomorrow?’ he suggested.

‘Not much chance of that,’ Toni added quickly. ‘We haven’t finished unpacking yet and heaven alone knows where the saucepans are.’

‘Would you like me to come and help?’ Ruth offered. But all four shook their heads.

‘Time we looked after ourselves, our Ruth. You’ve done enough.’

‘Now it’s time for you to find a life for yourself.’ Toni spoke kindly, although there was a firm gleam in her eyes that startled Ruth. Then Toni stared at Brenda, who stared back, then nodded confirmation. Again, Ruth forced her smile. ‘Yes, now it’s time for me,’ she agreed.

Ever since the wedding she had opened the back and front doors as soon as she got up and they stayed open until darkness came. That was the time she hated most, closing the doors and knowing there would be no one there until the following day – if then. She slept fitfully and often woke and sometimes read for a while in the hope of tiring herself. It was always still dark each morning when she went down to make tea and open the doors. Even after her fright of the night before she still found it impossible to close the door until dusk.

The following morning, Tommy stared at his wife and frowned. ‘Where am I? And who are you?’ he joked.

‘My name’s Dolores De-lightful. What’s yours?’

‘Bob Hopeless. Come here.’ He pulled her close and she struggled playfully.

‘Come on, we have to get up.’

‘We don’t! Isn’t it wonderful? Our own place and we can do what we like.’

‘No we can’t. We have to get up and try to work out how to use the cooker for a start. Tomorrow it’s back to work.’

‘Ruined my mood you have, Mrs Tommy Thomas.’ He kissed her and asked anxiously, ‘Happy?’

‘Utterly.’

‘I love you, Mrs Tommy Thomas. Thank goodness the wedding’s over. Now all we have to do is convince everyone that you can produce a six and a half month baby!’

Jack wandered through the villages and eventually found himself in a small seaside town, where the small shops suggested it was a popular place for holidaymakers. As he travelled he was looking for information, something that would help him find some member of the family – if there were any left after all this time, which he doubted. From the little he had learned, the family wasn’t large and names could have changed and, after forty years, who would care even if they did remember?

He stopped at a newsagent’s shop but he didn’t go in. He didn’t want to make the search official, not until he was certain how he would be greeted. He suspected that most would be only too glad to send him on his way. If only he could go from town to town working each one as a paper-boy. That would be a way of finding out people’s names. He had to talk to people and depend on luck. Meanwhile, he would take another look at the house called Ty Gwyn. He had little to go on, but the name rang that persistent bell somewhere in his memory.

One morning Ruth had just thrown away a cake she had made, wondering when she would learn to cook for one and stop wasting precious rations on food no one wanted. Would she ever stop making cakes in case someone called? Or learn to prepare small meals instead of continuing to throw excess food in the bin for the chickens? The postman touched the gate and shocked her out of her reverie.

Opening a letter from her aunt, she gave a huge sigh of relief. Aunty Blodwen was having trouble after the repairers had caused a leak in the kitchen. It would take a few days to fix.

‘They can’t do anything until next week, so I was wondering—’ the letter said. Ruth wrote straight back and invited her to stay for as long as it took.

‘All right, I’m a coward,’ she said aloud to her reflection in the hall mirror. ‘I will cope with this, I really will, but not yet.’

The house had five bedrooms, two of them small and overlooking the back and there were two larger rooms at the front. Ruth had stayed in the smallest room overlooking the back garden, which, being next to the bathroom was also the noisiest.

‘Why don’t you move into one of the bigger bedrooms, our Ruth?’ Aunty Blod asked when she was unpacking her things. ‘Seems daft squeezing yourself into the tiddly room at the back while the best rooms are empty.’ She looked at her niece and added softly, ‘They won’t be back, you’ve got the whole house, so spoil yourself. Remember, no one praises a martyr.’

‘Is that what I am?’

‘No, but it’s what you might become if you hang around waiting for your brothers to need you.’ She hugged Ruth. ‘Sorry, love, but you’ve got to stop being the big sister looking after them all. This is time for you.’

‘That’s what Tommy’s Toni says.’

‘And she’s right. So what would you like to do now you’re free?’

Ruth shrugged. ‘All I know is looking after people, keeping the house looking nice, and making food.’

‘You worked in an hotel once, what about that?’

‘It won’t be the same, Aunty Blod. Caring for your own is something special.’

‘And lucky you are to have had the experience, but it’s over now, love. You’re free.’

‘I love this house, and wish it could always be filled with people being happy. It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?’

‘Beautiful, and so are you. Too beautiful to incarcerate yourself here, waiting for someone to call. Tommy and Toni, Bryn and Brenda love this place too but soon they’ll love their own places, chosen by them, filled with the start of their own lives. Like Geraint and Hazel, and Emrys and Susan. It’s where they start making their own memories. As you will one day.’

The house was sparsely furnished as Ruth had offered furniture to both Bryn and Tommy to start building their homes. They had taken beds and a couple of armchairs, small tables and even a wardrobe which Ruth knew she would never need. They had also taken much of the cutlery and china of which there had been plenty. Ornaments too had been passed on to help make the flats feel like a home. One day the shops would be filled with everything a home needed, but until then they were glad to make use of what they were given.

When Henry called soon after Aunty Blodwen returned, he looked around the living-room in surprise before settling in the old-fashioned kitchen. ‘This is the most comfortable room in the house. And even this is short of several chairs. What happened?’ he asked.

‘Oh, Tommy and Bryn needed a few things, and I can’t see me needing a houseful of stuff any more.’

‘Do you plan to move out now they’ve all gone?’ he asked. ‘Sell this place?’

‘No need, they’ve all agreed to let me stay.’

‘They’ve agreed? What about you? What d’ you want?’

‘It’s too early for me to decide,’ she said.

‘I see, and it’s not my business?’

‘Come to dinner on Sunday,’ Blodwen said. ‘Ruth’s invited the twins and their other halves. Emrys and Susan too. Make it a bit of a celebration, shall we?’

‘Yes, but won’t you tell me what we’re celebrating?’

‘We can talk about everything after they’ve gone,’ Ruth said, avoiding looking at him.

A few days later, Henry turned up with one of his vans. Opening the back Ruth saw an assortment of furniture plus vases and even a silver tea-set with its tray. He invited Ruth to chose any replacements she might need.

Neither of them noticed the rather shabbily dressed man watching from behind the hedge of the next-door house

‘I know none of this will be your first choice,’ he said. ‘But you’ll need a few extra chairs for Sunday if you’re going to invite the family. You can choose exactly what you like, furnish the house in any way you please when you move in with me,’ he said, looking at her with a serious expression on his face.

BOOK: Nothing is Forever
7.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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