Paint on the Smiles Page 5

  ‘Jessie,’ he asked as he took the case from the bed and dropped it near the door, ‘tell me the truth. What is wrong with me?’

  ‘Truthfully?’ She looked up at him, her blue eyes bright, clear and tempting him to bend his head the short distance to look into them while his lips found hers. Sensing the desire, she stepped away. ‘You, Danny, have a love-hate relationship with Cecily Owen. You can’t make up your mind which is the stronger.’

  ‘But here, this week with you and Danielle, it’s been wonderful and—’

  She raised a small hand to interrupt, moving towards the door as if to escape, he thought sadly.

  ‘If we tried again,’ she said, her face closed against his pleading, ‘Cecily would only have to call for help, or plead for you to come back and I’d be left all over again.’

  Since Phil’s imprisonment, and Ada’s return to the shop, Cecily had kept her very busy. She determinedly filled as many hours of the day as possible. Besides the hectic hours when the shop was open, every week they went to the pictures, sometimes twice. They also went to many of the summer entertainments during the two months of the holiday season, when the town was host to thousands of visitors.

  On their half day, instead of staying in and dealing with the bookkeeping, they went to the beach or the park when the weather was suitable and Van went with them. Peter, too, when his business allowed.

  There were tea dances and at several of these they met Gareth, with their sister-in-law, Rhonwen, and her daughter Marged too. Marged was now a pretty twenty-year-old, still giggling constantly as Gareth patiently showed her the steps of the popular dances.

  They watched as Rhonwen and her daughter tried to master the simplest steps but unlike Cecily and Ada, they had no skill and were content to watch.

  On evenings when they didn’t go out, and when Van and Edwin joined them, they often pushed the furniture back in the big room above the shop and danced to records or the wireless. Cecily shared with Ada the dances of sentimental songs like Hoagy Carmichael’s ‘Stardust’. Also ‘I Get Along Without You Very Well’, particularly poignant at that time.

  They went on picnics too and one day they began as a party of four and ended up with fourteen. Ada had risen early that Sunday morning and had already packed their wicker hamper with food and drinks when Cecily and Van rose.

  ‘Come on,’ Ada said, smiling, ‘it’s going to be a lovely day and we’re going to the rock pools.’ That was a stretch of beach on the far side of town.

  ‘Can Edwin come too?’ Van asked.

  She didn’t add that if he didn’t she wouldn’t go either, but Ada recognized from the scowl that a confrontation would spoil the day.

  ‘Of course, lovey, you ring and invite him and we’ll pick him up on the way.’

  Van phoned, then ran out. She returned an hour later with Edwin and his parents.

  ‘I phoned Melanie and Waldo,’ Beryl said. ‘They’re coming too.’

  ‘Might as well invite Dorothy and Owen,’ Ada said. And then Annette and Willie were brought by Waldo and soon there was a procession of cars containing thirteen people heading for the chosen spot.

  ‘Damn me, there are thirteen of us,’ Bertie said.

  ‘I’ll get Danny,’ Willie said at once. ‘There’ll be plenty of food.’

  ‘Good,’ Bertie agreed. ‘I don’t fancy starting the day with thirteen.’

  Amid teasing, he turned the car. Cecily crossed her fingers, hoping he would be out. Danny’s company for the day was something she did not want.

  No one had bothered to make sandwiches; they had packed loaves, butter, cheese and jars of fish paste and jam into their baskets. Ada had packed cakes and biscuits and a supply of bottles to fetch water from the tap for the necessary cups of tea. They would make a bonfire from driftwood gathered on the beach. There were two kettles plus teapots and twists of paper holding sugar, tea and salt. Dorothy had brought a tablecloth and some salad wrapped in a tea towel. Annette had packed extra cups and plates.

  It was a breathless, rosy-faced party that eventually clambered down the rocks to their chosen spot with all the paraphernalia of the day out.

  Danny – who much to Cecily’s dismay had come with them – and Willie chose a place for the fire. The tide was on its way in and below the place they had chosen to sit. The children helped to gather wood from the irregular line of the tide’s ending. Van and Edwin helped Victor build a sandcastle before the incoming tide drove them back up to the rocky plateau where they would eat.

  With the fire burning satisfactorily, even if clouds of smoke had caused several of the party to change their position, Danny and Willie filled the kettles at the tap high about them on the cliff path and set them to boil. Ada filled extra bottles to replenish their supply. Some splashing occurred, causing riotous enjoyment for Victor who was shrieking and laughing at Ada’s attempt to keep her feet dry.

  Annette and Willie stared at their son with amusement and wondered why children felt the need to shout when they were out of doors.

  Cecily knew she couldn’t ignore Danny for the whole day, but was angry with Willie for inviting him. She tried to behave with him the same as she did with the others, and helped him build a cairn of stones to protect their food from the sun. As usual it failed to stop the butter melting but they always tried.

  They were some distance from the others when Danny said, ‘Cecily, I want to talk to you.’

  ‘Let’s enjoy the day out. Can’t we pretend for a few hours that we’re nothing more than casual acquaintances? Look at them all, expecting a happy relaxed day. Don’t spoil it for them.’

  ‘Did you arrange for Jessie to be at the same hotel when I went with Willie and Annette? Was it you who planned a grand reunion for me?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Someone booked a room for Jessie and Danielle at the same time we were there. Was it you?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I do anything for Jessie after what she did to me?’

  ‘Someone did. They must have hoped that spending a week together, without her mother interfering, we might have come together again.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘I felt happy seeing Danielle every day and knowing she’s mine. I was tempted to try again, just for the pleasure of being a family, like Willie and Annette, but no, it didn’t change anything. I’m a fool, and I hate knowing my foolishness has ruined three lives – four with Danielle, growing up without a father in her life. What can I do? It’s you I love and—’

  Cecily stood up, pushed him away and moved towards the others. ‘No, Danny. You want too much of me. You can never be happy with me unless you tie me in chains and I’m not the woman to enjoy that!’

  Willie was walking up the narrow path to refill the water bottles again and as Cecily ran off to sit with Ada, he had overheard the last exchanges. Danny was still sitting by the food cairn when he came back down with the filled bottles.

  ‘Why can’t I be happy with a woman like you are with Annette?’

  ‘Cecily’s right, man. You ask too much.’

  ‘Annette is different.’

  ‘So am I!’ Willie sat beside Danny, one each side of the cairn of stones. ‘Look at us, like two Toby jugs again.’

  He tried to laugh Danny out of his solemn mood but Danny replied, ‘I can imagine me in twenty years, sitting beside a fireplace like a Toby jug, but it won’t be my fireplace and there won’t be another Toby jug opposite me.’

  ‘Come on, face facts. How can you expect a successful woman like Cecily to become the dull little housewife to please you?’ He didn’t expect a reply and gestured to where Owen was sitting beside his mother, munching a fish paste and lettuce sandwich. ‘Look at Dorothy – she wouldn’t be pleased if you and Cecily married. She thinks her Owen will inherit the shop as long as neither of the sisters have a child. She discounts Van as an illegitimate daughter with no claim on what their father left them.’

  ‘Too much time has passed.
Cecily is thirty-seven and I’m older. Little chance of a child if we did marry. Dorothy can forget that particular worry.’

  The beach party divided itself up into couples, Danny and Willie sitting away from the rest as if they were guardians of the food belonging to a shipwrecked crew on a desert island. Cecily and Ada were sorting wood into sizes for the fire. Bertie and Waldo watched the simmering kettles and arranged teapots ready to be filled. Beryl and Melanie chatted like the good friends they were and Van climbed down the rocks towards the lapping waves with Edwin, searching for limpets to use as bait when the tide filled.

  Van threw the last limpet into the bucket and, after depositing them with Willie and Danny, climbed up to the tower of rock that, from a distance, looked like the crumbling ruin of a castle keep. Thrift, wild spinach, samphire and grasses grew in the crevasse and droppings from thousands of sea birds decorated the ledges. Edwin followed her and sat beside her.

  They stared out over the sea, a darker patch here and there as small clouds threw shadows on the surface. There was little to disturb the tranquillity. What surf there was was hidden by the rocks which over-hung, cut away by a million storms.

  There was a companionable air around them, a comfortable ease and a sense of belonging that might have given the impression they were brother and sister if it weren’t for the complete contrast in appearance. Edwin was heavily built and already showing his father’s tendency to loose-fleshed features, but it didn’t suggest weakness or lack of fitness. He looked self-assured. His calm stillness and size belied the fact that when necessary Edwin could move fast, and think with a speed that impressed.

  To Van, he was the reliable and constant anchor in her life. Edwin was completely trustworthy and someone who, unlike her mother, had never let her down.

  Van was graceful, her slim, tanned figure turning many an eye. Although topping her mother by an inch or two, she had small hands and feet and her features were delicate. Her blue eyes lacked the calmness of Edwin’s dark ones, and now her gaze moved nervously around, resting first on her mother, then on her aunt, wondering if she would ever forgive them for their deceit in denying she was Cecily’s child, and thinking she would not.

  ‘Shall we swim, later?’ Edwin suggested. ‘We might as well get the most out of the occasion. The sea’s calm and warm and with food to greet us when we come out, perfect.’

  ‘Uncle Waldo brought potatoes to cook in the ashes. Just think, Edwin, most children have days like this all through the summer, while for me it’s an occasion.’

  ‘Aw, poor you!’ he teased, then added, ‘Your family have the shop to manage and summer is their busiest time, remember.’

  ‘I resent my mother,’ Van said quietly. ‘I didn’t have a normal childhood. I was cheated out of it by my mother pretending she was no relation for all those years. And I still don’t know who my father is. Can you imagine what that’s like? Not knowing who I am? It gives me nightmares sometimes, wondering if I’ve inherited traits that will make me a criminal, or send me crazy before I’m thirty.’

  ‘Look in a mirror, Van. That’s who you are. Whether your father swept roads or worked in a slaughter house or was a professor in some fine university doesn’t matter – unless you allow it to!’

  Van continued as if she hadn’t heard him. ‘Being passed from pillar to post, never going on picnics except when your mam and dad or Uncle Waldo and Auntie Melanie took me. Never going to the beach for a day of fun.’

  Edwin was laughing, trying to disperse her mood of self-pity. ‘You can’t say you never go to the beach!’

  ‘All right, I can’t say never, but look at those over there.’ She pointed to where a group of about thirty people were sitting, the sound of a mouth organ floating across to them with the smoke from their fire. ‘Not like them. Belonging. Having a proper place.’

  More seriously, Edwin said, ‘There’s a lot in your life people would envy, Van.’

  ‘Whenever I went out I was dressed up like a fancy cake without a plate to sit on.’

  Edwin laughed loudly then. ‘Van, you are an idiot.’

  ‘Frills and ribbons like those over there would never believe. And fancy white ankle socks and ankle-strap shoes in black shiny leather.’ She was trying not to laugh. ‘Not daps I could run around in without making a sound, but shoes that clacked all the summer through so everyone knew it was me coming. I did envy my friends their freedom from socks and their daps.’

  ‘Shame. Pity. Poor you.’ Edwin was still laughing.

  ‘I hate my mother,’ she said, sobering him up immediately.

  ‘Van, you mustn’t say that – or think it.’

  ‘No father, no gran, a mother who doesn’t care. One day I’ll pay her back and make her sorry for what she’s done to me.’

  Deciding it was safer to treat it as a joke, Edwin laughed again. ‘Oh, Van, stop it or you’ll make me fall from this rock.’ He was relieved to see a smile beginning to curl her lips, but her eyes didn’t soften. One day she would have the means to punish her mother for the way she’d treated her.

  ‘Do you miss your gran?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, and I miss Grandpa. He listened to me and read to me and told me stories about the big ships that come from all over the world to our docks.’

  ‘It was sad that he died.’

  ‘I miss seeing his boots. Every night he’d take them off to climb the stairs and leave them on the fender. I sometimes expect them to be there, with some spilt ash near them from his old pipe.’

  ‘Come on, let’s have that swim.’

  Several of the party swam, diving off the rocks, and when they were back, with their towels spread to dry in the hot son, they ate. Food was shared, everyone accepting hungrily everything that came their way.

  ‘My potatoes aren’t cooked,’ Waldo said sadly. ‘We’ll have to have them later.’

  ‘Can I try one?’ Owen asked, holding out a hand.

  Dorothy slapped his hand down. ‘No, Owen. You’ve eaten plenty already!’

  ‘Pig,’ Van hissed, just loud enough for Owen to hear.

  Danny ate very little and sat apart from the rest. He wandered off to a part of the beach where few went. The surface was uneven, not the levels of flat rock as on the rest, but rough and difficult for walking. Out of sight of the others he took off his clothes and swam naked in the cool refreshing water. He swam strongly and then when he grew weary, trod water and looked back, unable to see a soul. He swam back lazily and climbed out and sat, ignoring his nakedness, for an hour.

  His thoughts were sombre. The sea stretched to infinity, almost silent now and empty, like his life. He imagined rather than heard the shouting and laughter from family gatherings like the one he’d left. He had no one who cared about how he felt, or spent the slightest effort to please him. And it was his own fault.

  His body longed for Cecily yet his head knew they were incapable of creating a warm, loving atmosphere to keep them safe from whatever life threw at them. He forced his mind to create a picture of her that was less than desirable, trying to quell the aching void within him. They were incompatible and he must accept that if he were to move on. He stood, deciding that he would make his excuses and leave, even though it meant a long walk back.

  He was stiff with the effect of the sun, which was stronger than he’d realized, with the sea breeze caressing his skin. He strolled back and saw Cecily standing apart from the others, shading her eyes and watching him approach. His resolution fell from him like the water as he had climbed out of the sea.

  ‘Danny,’ she called, ‘we were getting worried.’

  ‘Cecily, I hate being alone. Come back to me, please, love. When this divorce is finally settled, we’ll get married.’

  ‘Danny, this is stupid.’

  ‘I won’t want you to change a thing. Dance if you want to, flirt if you want to, just stay with me.’

  ‘I don’t—’ Cecily began to protest but he hushed her with a finger on her lips, playing with them, watching
her face with such intensity in his dark eyes that she felt her breath flow suddenly inward, like a cry.

  ‘Do anything you want, be anything you want, Cecily, my love, my only love. Just come home with me. We’ve wasted so many years. Will you?’

  She took his arm and they walked back to where Waldo was proudly handing out baked potatoes with blackened hands. Owen was already eating his but the others were jiggling them about, laughing and pretending to be burnt by the hot food.

  ‘Hot potato, that’s what you are, Danny Preston,’ Cecily said smiling. ‘But equally as irresistible. Yes, we’ll give it another try to be friends,’ she emphasized. ‘Only friends, nothing more. Right?’

  He kissed her lightly then, in sight of the others. Van looked away, disgust distorting her young face. Others oohed in a teasing way but Dorothy stood and said, loudly, ‘Cecily this week, is it, Danny? How did you enjoy your week with your wife? Not enough for you to have one woman, is it?’

  Annette reached for Willie’s hand. ‘Mam!’ she said in distress. ‘How could you?’

  Danny kept a hand on Cecily’s shoulder, his fingers gripping her firmly to stop her moving away. ‘Was it you who arranged that meeting, Dorothy?’ he asked angrily. ‘Well, it didn’t work. And Cecily knows about it, so your attempt to bugger things up this afternoon won’t work either!’

  ‘No? Not when the solicitor knows how you and Jessie spent the week together? The divorce will still go through, will it?’

  Everyone was silent. The shouting and laughter from nearby families seemed like an echo of the happiness they’d enjoyed and which was now shattered.

  Waldo touched Dorothy’s arm and whispered something. The potato she had been holding fell, and Owen, apparently unaware of the tension around him, picked it up and began eating it.

  A cloud appeared over the sea and raced towards them, a crowning finish to the day that had started so well. They all began gathering their things, refilling baskets with the untidy remnants of the picnic. Waldo and Bertie threw sand over the fire, which smoked and spluttered as it died.