Holidays at Home Omnibus: Read All 6 Books in the Classic Saga Series

Holidays at Home

Wait Till Summer

Swingboats on the Sand

Waiting for Yesterday

Day Trippers

Unwise Promises

Street Parties

One

Eirlys Price stood in the crowded school hall looking at the anxious-faced children and wondering how they could possibly find homes for them before nightfall. This first arrival of evacuees from London had been expected, but even so, the bedraggled and clearly unhappy group had been a shock. So many and most of them so young; how could tearing them away from their families be the best solution?

Eirlys was twenty-two and she worked as a clerk in the council offices. Today she had been given the task of helping Mrs Francis to find homes for the evacuees billeted on the town. She didn’t mind the duty but would have preferred to have done it with an assistant of her own rather than the tedious Mrs Benjamin Francis.

She tried to stay uninvolved as she had been told, but the plight of the children got to her and she felt her heart squeeze with pity for the youngsters taken from everything and everyone they knew and brought to a strange town with only a luggage label pinned to them to declare their identity.

The school in St David’s Well had been closed for the day to allow for the dispersal of the children to be arranged but the pupils hadn’t stayed home. They had turned up to watch curiously as the newcomers were walked in a long crocodile from the station along the streets where other, older people stood on doorsteps to gawp at the children, offer sympathy and pat a few heads as they passed.

The forty-five evacuees were given a snack meal which had been organised by the WVS formed sixteen months before, in May 1938. Now, in September 1939, with war declared and the country in a state of turmoil, the new Women’s Voluntary Service, local people who could arrange help and comfort wherever needed, was coming into its own.

Eirlys could see that there weren’t sufficient chairs, with many taken by the adults who had come to collect them or simply to watch, so she encouraged the children, who were worn out with the travelling and the anxiety, to sit on the floor. Several went instantly to sleep, hugging their gas masks and their small bags of personal possessions in baby hands. She moved some into more comfortable positions, and stepped among them reassuring them, smiling, admiring a small toy here, a smart hat there, hoping that Mrs Francis wouldn’t take too long before sending them on the final stage of their journey.

One little girl began to wail, I ’ates it ’ere and I wanna go ’ome.

Wait till summer, Eirlys soothed. You’ll love living beside the sea when summer comes round again.

She began to describe the various activities the child might enjoy but had no response. Tears glistened in the child’s eyes and she repeated, I ’ates it ’ere, to every attempt at comfort.

The murmur of conversations and the clatter of plates as the dishes were cleared and washed in the school kitchen was a constant hum that had a drowsing effect and didn’t disturb those who were sleeping. The women who had been told to provide homes for the children for the duration of the emergency stood up and approached the bedraggled group.

As the women approached, all searching for the most respectable looking and hoping to avoid the poorest, some of the younger ones began to cry. Eirlys picked up the unhappy little girl she had spoken to earlier, who smelled unpleasantly of urine and unwashed hair, and cuddled her.

She saw three boys scuttle away from the table to stand in a corner, and guessed they were brothers and didn’t want to be parted. She stepped closer to read their names. Stanley Love aged ten, Harold Love aged eight and a glum-faced Percival Love, just six. Sympathy for Stanley, who had clearly taken responsibility for his brothers, made her stand protectively near them as the process of rehoming began.

Mrs Francis, who was clearly in charge, stood on a chair and in a loud voice addressed the room. Welcome to St David’s Well, children, she began in an accent that made Stanley and his brothers stifle a laugh.

Blimey, brovers, she talks like the wireless! Stanley spluttered.

Mrs Francis didn’t speak for long; she simply explained that the women would walk around and choose the child they wanted to take home with them. And don’t forget to say thank you, she reminded the children firmly. Here in St David’s Well we consider manners very important.

Slowly the children dispersed as the women of the town chose and collected their visitors. They gave their name, and the name of the child they had selected, to Mrs Francis and her assistants and walked off, hand in hand, to introduce the newcomer to his or her new family. Some smiled, some began to look uneasy as the numbers dwindled and the selection was reduced to the untidiest and in some cases the dirtiest children. Stanley and his brothers stood unnoticed in the corner, half hidden by a group of curious onlookers.

Eirlys moved around the sad group and reassured one or two who were afraid of being left to fend for themselves if they weren’t chosen, embarrassed at some of the comments uttered by the women who were loudly discussing the merits and suitability of each child.

See, brovers, she heard Stanley whisper, no one ’ere wants us, so we might as well go back ’ome. They would need an extra vigilant eye, Eirlys thought grimly.

The door of the school hall opened and Eirlys saw her father enter. She waved and he came to stand near her.

How’s it going? he asked. Have you chosen our girl yet?

No, Dadda. I thought we’d wait till the end and take the one no one wants.

I’m amazed that we persuaded your mam to take on an evacuee, aren’t you?

It took a long time and I don’t think she would have agreed at all, if I hadn’t told her that in my job at the council offices I had to show willing, Eirlys confessed.

Very proud of you, Mam is for sure, Morgan smiled. You working in an office when all your friends could only manage shops. Always boasting she is, about how clever you are.

What are you doing here? Eirlys asked him. Aren’t you working at ten tonight? You should be asleep.

I was curious to see the child we’re giving a home to. Your mam is busy making piles of food, convinced this lot won’t have eaten all day, so I came down for a bit of a walk, like.

The number of children dwindled. Voices became more disapproving as the children were loudly discussed. Seeing the three brothers standing apparently unnoticed, Eirlys wondered vaguely how her mother, Annie, would react if she and her father arrived home with three boys instead of the girl she had agreed to take.

She glanced at her father, nudged him and gestured towards the brothers who were trying not to move in the hope of being forgotten. He stared at the boys with an interested look in his eyes. No! They daren’t!

They looked up as Mrs Francis closed her book with a slap and seemed prepared to leave. They heard her say peremptorily, These last two girls will have to go to the vicarage. The dear vicar and his housekeeper will have to manage until other arrangements can be made. I simply can’t wait any longer.

The two frightened little girls were led off. What’s a Vicarage? one of them asked the other. Then, as she picked up her handbag and moved away from the table she had been occupying, Mrs Francis stopped, suddenly noticing the huddle of children in a corner.

You over there, come here where I can see you.

What, us, missis? Stanley Love didn’t move.

Yes, you, she said impatiently. Why have you been hiding in the corner?

Hidin’, missis? We ain’t hiding. You can see us plain as plain.

Just when I thought we were finished, Mrs Francis muttered to her assistants. Now, who have we left? There were still a few women edging out of the hall, thankful they hadn’t been needed and anxious to get home before someone changed their minds and brought a child back.

Mrs Casey, she called in a shrill voice. What about one of these boys for you?

I can’t, Mrs Francis. Two bedrooms I got and me with two daughters an’ all; it isn’t possible.

Two others were asked and had reasons to refuse one of the brothers.

Just as well, Stanley shouted. We ain’t bein’ separated. Me mum said we got to stay together.

That won’t be possible, young man. You’ll go where there’s a place for you. Now. She turned to a small, thin woman standing patiently near the door. Mrs Evans, my dear?

I couldn’t have three. She shook her head determinedly.

No one is asking you to take three; just one, all right?

No it ain’t all right! Stanley’s head-shaking was equally determined. The three musketeers we are, all for one an’ one for all. We read that at school, he said proudly.

The hall was practically deserted. Mrs Francis looked impatiently at her watch and sighed. I have a meeting of the Air Raid Precaution group in an hour.

Air raids? What air raids? Stanley demanded. I thought you wasn’t goin’ to ’ave any?

Tiresome boy, Mrs Francis said loudly. She took a deep breath in preparation for a lecture on how fortunate they were.

Just stay with me, Stanley whispered to his brothers, and when we get the chance, we’ll ’oppit and clear off back to London. Our ma wouldn’t want us standing ’ere like two pennorth of Gawd ’elp us, waiting for someone to like us, now would she?

Eirlys looked at her father, head tilted in question. They were very close and often read the other’s mind. She knew now that he was wavering, discarding common sense in favour of helping these unfortunate children. Dadda? Could we persuade Mam, d’you think?

No, love, we couldn’t! He looked shocked but at the same time his blue eyes – so like her own – shone with excitement. He looked again at the boys standing so defiant and brave. God ’elp, Eirlys. Persuading your mam to take one girl was a miracle. We’d never talk her into taking on three boys.

Dad, we have to do something. They’ll have to sleep in the school if we don’t take them, and imagine how awful that would be. Frightened, away from their mother and everything familiar, unwanted by anyone, abandoned—

Go on then, and pity help us when your mother is told. Go on, tell that bossy Francis woman they’re coming home with us. It’s up to you to talk your mam round, mind.

Stanley continued to whisper to Percival and Harold, ignoring what was being said, when he became aware of someone standing beside them.

Now what? Harold asked rudely.

Eirlys smiled and said, It seems you are all coming home with me.

Annie Price was predictably furious when the five of them walked in.

Who are these boys? she demanded, placing her hands on her ample hips and glaring at Morgan. I hope you don’t expect me to look after three boys. A girl was what I agreed.

Don’t worry, missis, we’ll go back ’ome in the morning, Stanley said jauntily. We don’t want to stay ’ere anyway.

Annie looked at the tired children and her heart softened, as Morgan and Eirlys had thought it would.

They can stay until we find a place for them, can’t they Mam?

Our Eirlys was responsible for organising all this, mind. She can’t walk away from children, can she? It’s her job, Morgan added. And I’ll do what I can to help.

As Annie served a rich stew with mashed potatoes to each of the boys, she said, How can we manage? You work shifts at the factory, I work every morning in the baker’s shop and Eirlys works from nine to five plus all the hours of overtime this damned war is causing.

We’ll manage between us, Mam, Eirlys said. I don’t think Stanley will mind doing his share, will you?

Stanley didn’t reply; he was too busy filling his mouth with the delicious stew. Eirlys was relieved to see her parents share a smile.

As her father left for work that evening, the boys were finishing their meal. Stanley and Harold had consumed second helpings but little Percival ate very little. He sat with his head bowed, chewing with little pleasure on a small amount of food, looking unhappy. When Eirlys tried to coax him, he said solemnly and in a low voice, These ’taters is boverin’ me.

Percival can’t eat no lumps, Stanley explained, scraping the offending potatoes from Percival’s plate on to his own.

I only like chips, the dejected little boy explained. Chips from the chip shop.

It was late before the children had been bathed and fed and settled for the night and Eirlys knew she would not be able to keep the date she had with Johnny Castle. She had promised to take some magazines and books for his mother, who was unwell, but she knew Johnny would understand once she explained about the plight of the evacuees no one else had wanted. Johnny was kind and never anything but good-natured. He would sympathise with the boys as soon as she explained.

Annie was still angry and Eirlys tried to take the blame from her father. It wasn’t Dadda’s idea, Mam, it was mine, she insisted. How could I walk away and leave them to be pushed into a home where they weren’t wanted and separated from each other? If you’d seen those children you’d have taken more than the one you’d agreed, I know you would.

It isn’t their fault, I know that. But your father should have thought it through.

Mam, it was me, not Dadda.

I don’t suppose he needed much persuading. You two always think alike. You look alike and you think in just the same way, soft you are the pair of you, and I have to deal with the result of it. Remember the rabbits you brought home when someone had moved and left them unattended? And the stray cat you insisted on feeding? She sounded angry, she usually did, but there was a smile around her dark eyes as she added, What am I going to be landed with next then, eh?

No more waifs and strays, Mam, I promise.

Annie didn’t seem to hear. She went on, Always wanted a big family he did, your father. Never got over his disappointment at not having brothers or sisters for you.

It was a sensitive subject for both of them. Unfading regret for Annie, and unreasonable guilt for Eirlys, who knew that it had been during her birth that her mother had been damaged with the result that she could have no more children.

Eirlys looked at the pile of clothes she had taken from the three boys and wondered where she would find more. The clothes they had brought were not suitable for school unless the Love brothers were able to cope with the teasing they would surely get from the locals. They were crumpled and very worn. There was a small weekly allowance intended to help feed them, but it was not enough to completely clothe them.

When her father Morgan came in from the factory the following morning she was awake and still trying to decide what to do about clothing.

You’d better start on that washing, hadn’t you? he said as he reached for the kettle to make a pot of tea. First thing I’ll do is fetch the washing bath in and get the boiler lit.

Yes; I have to be at work at nine so it’ll be an early start. Like now this minute, she said.

Together they sorted through the worn clothes, picking out the least worst for the three boys to wear the following day. Today they would have to wear the clothes in which they had travelled. It wasn’t ideal but it was the best she could do. None of the clothes were particularly clean and, looking at the threadbare material and frayed ends, at the holes where buttons had once been, Eirlys wondered if any item was worth the effort of mending.

Your mam’s hopeless with a needle, but you could go and ask Hannah Wilcox if she can turn a couple of my things into clothes for them. Good at that, she is.

She’s had to be, with her husband gone and her parents unwilling to help. She keeps those girls of hers beautifully turned out she does, and all by her own efforts. I’m sure she’ll make a few things for these three, but we’ll have to pay her, mind, she can’t afford to do it for nothing.

It’s half seven, she’ll be awake. Go and see her now, while the boys are still sleeping. I’ll listen for them waking. I won’t be going to bed yet. I thought I’d stay up and help your mother with breakfast.

Eirlys hugged her father affectionately. Thanks, Dadda. I knew you wouldn’t mind me taking them on.

Go on with you. I’ll chuck ’em though the window if they don’t behave, mind. Oh, and call at the bake house and ask for a loaf of bread, will you? The shop won’t open till nine and the lads ate all we had last night. On second thoughts, better get two.

Hannah Wilcox and Eirlys were friends even though their age and their circumstances were different. Hannah was twenty-nine, and had been married to a man who, she had soon realised, was a heavy drinker. While alcohol was in control he had been violent towards her. After a fourth stay in hospital, to her parents’ embarrassment and shame she had sued for divorce – something unheard of in most families – and they steadfastly refused to accept it. They were both members of a local chapel where punishment was considered to be ennobling, and the rules of life were rigid. No mitigating circumstances were ever considered.

Hannah knew the religion was one that suited her parents’ needs. They hated her but couldn’t admit it, so the breakdown of her marriage was something of which they could disapprove and for which they could punish her.

Their hatred of her and the need to punish her was because her brother Rupert, whom they had adored, had died of pneumonia after she had passed the flu on to him, and they blamed her for being alive when he was dead. Her refusal to stay with her husband was a gift to them in their unhappiness. They constantly pressurised her to take him back, insisting that he was her husband until death. That solution was something Hannah had thought about often, after a severe beating had left her in pain and she could see no way out of her situation.

It had been Eirlys Price and her parents who had helped her and supported her through the traumatic early months of the divorce procedure. Every move she made had been discouraged both by her parents and their friends, and the solicitor together with his staff also lacked sympathy, believing that a wife had to stay with a husband through everything.

Members of her parents’ chapel called on her and talked until she thought her head would burst with the frustration of stating her case to uncaring ears, and listening to their lectures on her wickedness. She was selfish, thinking only of herself, a wicked daughter, she was told repeatedly. She should spare a thought for the shame her parents were suffering, she was reminded. It was only Eirlys and her parents, Morgan and Annie Price, who saved her sanity.

After the separation and the plans for the divorce had shamed them in front of their Chapel friends, Hannah’s parents, intent on a reconciliation, had twice allowed her husband back into the house and tricked their daughter into being there alone, and twice he had made Hannah pregnant, each time also landing her in hospital with cuts, bruises and broken bones.

Even when her parents visited her in hospital, they still refused to consider Hannah a free woman and insisted that she was married and should take her husband back. They quoted the marriage vows at her whenever she tried to reason with them, chanting them to drown out her reasoning. When they had reluctantly allowed her to return to their house, after she had been forced to give up the flat above the china shop, they had made sure she lived as unobtrusively as possible, confining her and the children to the two small rooms she had been allotted, not even allowing her to take the babies into the garden to play. Her shame was never to be forgotten. The world had to see they did not condone their daughter’s behaviour.

When Hannah opened the door to Eirlys on the morning after the evacuees had arrived, she greeted Eirlys with a warning finger on her lips and they tiptoed into the living room where a fire burned low and a gas light flickered and popped in the draught.

Eirlys, this is a nice surprise. Hannah smiled as she poked some life into the fire and turned the gas light up a notch. Anything important?

I went to collect our evacuee and came back with three, Eirlys laughed. Dadda was fine about it but our Mam wasn’t pleased. The smile slipped a little as she thought about her mother’s reaction, wondering if her mother would be persuaded to allow them to stay.

She’ll be as kind as your dad, don’t worry, Hannah assured her. Her bark is always worse than her bite. She waited for her friend to say something more but recognising the hesitancy, guessing there was a favour to be asked, said, Can I help? Mam and Dad can’t take one, not with us being here – at least that’s a point in my favour, she laughed. But if I can do something to help you?

The fact is, they don’t have many clothes and the ones they do have are very worn. I wondered if you could make them some trousers and shirts out of some of Dad’s old ones? It will be expensive to buy new for all three of them. We’ll pay of course.

Bring around what you’ve got and I’ll look in my odds-and-ends cupboard and I’m sure we’ll sort out something. Good practise maybe. There was a piece on the paper last week about us having to manage without new clothes if the war lasts more than a year or so.

But it won’t, will it? This time next year we’ll be laughing at all the scaremongering, won’t we?

The last war went on for four years, Hannah said doubtfully.

Yes, but we’ve learned something since then, haven’t we?

Hannah didn’t think so but she said nothing. Talk of war was frightening and rumours varied from a brief skirmish, over by Christmas, to years of deprivation and horror. Hannah didn’t want to think about it. Like many other women she preferred pretending the battles would happen far away and to people she didn’t know.

How is Johnny? she asked, hoping to change the subject. What does he think of Stanley, Harold and Percival Love?

Oh, I didn’t see him last night. Sorting out the evacuees took most of the evening. Luckily we were meeting at his mam’s house so I wasn’t letting him down. Besides, he knew the evacuees were coming; he’d have guessed what happened and understood.

What is he doing now the beach is closing for the winter? Has he got a job yet?

Because Johnny Castle’s family ran Piper’s Café and their stalls on St David’s Well Bay during the summer months, when the town was filled with day-trippers and holiday-makers attracted to the small town and its lovely sandy beaches, they all had to seek other employment during the winter.

He’s decorating old Mrs Piper’s house at the moment, and hating it. Johnny loves working on the sands, and likes to be out of doors, working with people. He dreads the end of the beach season. He never minds painting the stalls and swingboats and the like, smartening them up for the season, that’s a part of the work on the beach, but painting Granny Molly Piper’s house is not a favourite pastime.

Poor Johnny. Mrs ‘Granny Moll’ Piper isn’t even his real gran, is she? Hannah smiled.

No, but she acts as though he is. He and Taff have to do as she says the same as their cousins.

The friends said goodbye, with the decision made to use the newly washed clothes as a guide to making new outfits for the boys in time for the following week when they would all be starting at the local school.

Eirlys was thinking about Johnny Castle as she closed the gate behind her. She knew something of the protest about the name of the cafés and stalls owned by Molly Piper.

It was the Castle family who ran the businesses belonging to Moll Piper, which had been started by her grandparents, Joseph and Harriet Piper, with a small wooden café close to the sands. Moll Piper’s daughter Marged and her husband Huw Castle had worked on the sands since they were children and Huw’s brother Bleddyn had worked beside them. As soon as they were old enough, their own children had become involved, the cousins working happily as a team. Although most members of the workforce were called Castle, the name of Piper was still used and would be, Moll told them, until the last Piper was dead.

As she and her unmarried daughter, Marged’s sister Audrey, were the last two, Huw and Bleddyn constantly tried to persuade her to change her mind and rename the business – but to no avail. Bleddyn and Huw felt it was an injustice, as they had managed the business since Moll’s husband had died and Moll had practically nothing to do with the day-to-day organisation. Huw’s wife Marged avoided discussing it; agreeing with her husband, agreeing with Moll, using lots of words but saying nothing.

It was past eight o’clock that morning as Eirlys walked thoughtfully back to her parents’ house in Conroy Street. She hastily prepared breakfast for them all, offering toast and eggs to the subdued boys. Then, leaving her father to look after them until her mother returned from work at one o’clock, when he would at last be able to get some sleep, she made her way to the council offices and the continuing work of arranging schools and checking on the accommodation for the children.

Every placement had to be investigated, the schools prepared for the extra pupils, meetings arranged for the families to sort out any difficulties before they developed into problems. There were endless reports and forms to deal with, people to send out with questionnaires regarding the evacuees and their welfare. She ate a snack lunch at her desk, stopping only briefly to look out at the bustling town. As all the shops and offices closed between one and two o’clock, the shoppers gradually disappeared and only a few people walked the pavements.

She saw Johnny riding past on his bicycle and guessed he had been sent to buy more paint to finish his decorating for Granny Moll Piper. She didn’t wave. He wouldn’t expect to see her there at her window high above the street.

He was whistling and wobbling his way through a group of workmen standing examining a delivery of buckets and stirrup pumps that had been unloaded on to the road. How everything was changing. Even though not a single bomb had been dropped, the town was being turned inside out in preparation for war.

She shivered as she thought of the dangers to come in the pretty little town, and the young men who were leaving in droves to fight an invisible enemy far away across the sea.

She thought of Ken Ward from whom she had parted recently. He had wanted so badly to join the army and fight, but asthma had meant he received Grade Four at his medical, too low for any kind of enemy action. His family had moved to London and Ken had accepted a job with a small theatre group there and had asked her to go with him, but she had refused to leave St David’s Well. She had often wondered if the decision had been the right one and each time decided it had been.

She wouldn’t have stood on the railway platform without regret and watched him leave if she had really loved him. An unwillingness to leave her parents and a job she enjoyed wouldn’t have entered her mind. She missed him, though; they had been friends for several years.

At five thirty, when she began to tidy her desk and prepare to leave, she was handed another pile of papers and asked to try to get them filed before she went home. With a sigh, she agreed. She was anxious about the evacuees, and wondered how they had fared during their first day, but the work at the council offices had to be kept up to date. With so many men already gone to join the forces she couldn’t refuse to work longer hours.

She stretched her arms, yawned widely, walked around her desk a few times to refresh herself. A cup of tea, then back to the paperwork. She gathered the papers and began to sort them out. Judging by the size of the pile, it looked like being two more hours before she could go home.

As she walked up the back path towards the kitchen door later that evening, she almost fell over a bike. With the blackout already in force the nights were dark with only the occasionally ground-facing light of a bicycle passing, or the partially covered car lights that only made the night seem darker.

Who left their bike where I could fall over it? she demanded as she closed the door and switched on the kitchen light to examine her shin.

Me, and I’m sorry, Johnny Castle grinned.

Her spirits lifted at the sight of him, her tiredness was forgotten. He was small, as most of the Castle family were, only five feet seven, dark and strong and bursting with an energy that seemed to have laughter as its main ingredient. Johnny, more than the others, seemed to be filled with the joy of life. No one, Eirlys thought as she leaned forward for a brief kiss, no one could be miserable with Johnny Castle near.

Sorry about last night, Johnny. I’ll take the magazines to your mam later. Did you hear about the three boys? Stanley Love, aged ten, Harold aged eight and little Percival who is six.

Yes, the news has spread, so I thought I’d call to see how you’re managing. Granny Moll said she has some bedding if you need it, and some boys’ clothes left from my cousins. Heaven alone knows why she kept them but perhaps we’ll be glad she did, eh?

Thanks. I’ll go and see what she’s found at the weekend.

Who looked after them while your mam was at the shop?

Our Dadda. He’s so good about taking them in. She turned and smiled at Morgan, who was reading the paper. He should have been sleeping after working the night shift, but until we get them into school and properly settled we have to muddle through.

I took them to the park, Morgan told them, then Mam made them some chips. Harold said they weren’t bad, but little Percival told her they weren’t as good as the chip shop, he laughed.

He’s going to be hard to please, that one, Johnny smiled. They crept upstairs and looked at the three sleeping children. Stanley and Harold looked peaceful, but there was a scowl on Percival’s face that made them smile.

He’s a cheerful-looking chap, I don’t think! Johnny said as they went down again.

He’s only six and I don’t think he can possibly understand what’s happening to them.

I’ll bring them a stick of seaside rock tomorrow, and at the weekend perhaps we can introduce them to the joys of the beach, eh? The swingboats and the helter-skelter and the stalls have all gone but Auntie Audrey is still opening the rock and sweet shop this month.

Do you know, Johnny, Eirlys said in wonder, Mrs Francis told us they might never have seen the sea. Isn’t that amazing?

When Eirlys’s mother came into the kitchen and saw the pile of old clothes on the kitchen table, sorted for Hannah to use as patterns for newer ones, she put her hands on her hips, a well-known gesture meaning she was not pleased.

When am I going to get this table cleared so I can set it for supper? she demanded.

Seeing them together it was clear that Eirlys had inherited little from her mother. Annie was not tall, but she was plump, with dark eyes, and her long straight hair was always falling out of the bun with which she tried to control it. Eirlys was so like her father with their fair curly hair and blue eyes, and the wonderful milk-and-roses complexion to match. Johnny thought Eirlys would be ever young and Morgan would look as youthful when he was fifty as he did today. They were both slimly built and with an elegance in the way they walked, and a neatness that was always apparent, whatever task they undertook.

After greeting Johnny, Annie turned to her husband and daughter. What were you thinking of, girl? she demanded. "I was told we had to have one. She waved a solitary finger in front of Eirlys’s face. One girl. Now you and your father tell me we have three and you expect me to have them permanently? And boys at that. I never could cope with boys!"

I’m off, Johnny laughed. Remember the Queensbury Rules, mind, Mrs Price! He could hear the shrill voice complaining as he jumped on his bike and wobbled his way down the path and on to the road. Thank goodness Eirlys followed her father in temperament as well as looks, and not her quick-tempered mother.

Johnny Castle lived in Brook Lane with his father Bleddyn, his mother Irene and his brother Taff. Apart from his rather sickly mother, Irene, who refused, they all worked on the sands during the summer months, sharing responsibility for the various entertainments as well as Piper’s Café on the cliff above the beach and Piper’s fish-and-chip shop and café in the town. Bleddyn’s brother Huw and his family were the owners of the businesses together with Granny Moll, whose parents had begun it all, but Bleddyn had helped since he and Huw were children and he was very much involved, although, to his occasional irritation, Granny Moll, Huw’s mother-in-law and owner of the business, always had the final word on any decision.

Running the fish-and-chip shop in town was Bleddyn’s main duty, and as Johnny parked his bicycle in the shed and went into the house, he was closely followed by his father, who had just closed the café for the night.

Been somewhere nice? Bleddyn asked. Pictures?

No, Eirlys couldn’t come. She’s been helping find homes for the evacuees who arrived yesterday and guess what?

Don’t tell me we’ve got to have one? He frowned. Your mother couldn’t cope, could you Irene?

No, not us, but Eirlys only came home with three boys!

What did Mrs Price have to say to that? Bleddyn laughed. I bet she let everyone know she wasn’t pleased. Annie Price doesn’t whisper at the best of times and they probably heard her reaction in Grange Road!

Mr Price seemed all right about it. He’s a good-natured man, isn’t he?

Yes, Bleddyn agreed. I get on well with Morgan Price. He’s all right, isn’t he, Irene? He looked across the room, trying to encourage his wife to take part in the conversation.

What are they like, these kids from London, then? Irene asked, ignoring his comment about Morgan Price.

Most of them were tidy enough but a few of them looked real poor. Eirlys said theirs were clean and well nourished but they need clothes and a few possessions to make them feel at home. I was wondering, Mam, would you mind if I took my old train set over? And perhaps a few of our games and books?

Good idea, love. I’ll sort through and see what I can find.

I’m working for Granny Moll tomorrow so could you take them over? Johnny asked.

No I can’t. His mother’s voice was sharp. You go tomorrow evening – you’ll be seeing Eirlys, won’t you?

Go on, Mam, they’re so unhappy, a few toys would brighten their day.

No. You go when you can. A few more hours won’t hurt them.

Johnny frowned. Since he and Eirlys had begun going out together Eirlys’s mother had invited his mother over several times but Irene had always refused. He shrugged. Perhaps the two women didn’t get on, although it was disappointing for his mam to refuse an evening out. She was always complaining of being bored, and blaming his dad for never taking her out.

His brother Taff came in and they all sat down for supper. Twice a week Bleddyn brought fish and chips home; on other evenings they had something on toast, or a bowl of soup. It was Bleddyn’s conviction that they should eat a meal together and talk about their day so they kept in touch with each other and didn’t allow the family to drift apart. Lately, though, Irene had frequently set out the meal and wandered off to bed without joining them.

Nice bit of hake for you tonight, Irene, Bleddyn said, hoping to persuade her to stay. Saved it special, I did.

I had a slice of cake earlier and I don’t feel hungry. I think I’ll go on up.

With Johnny and Taff arguing over possession of the fillet of hake, they didn’t see the hurt disappointment on their father’s face.

Why don’t you go and meet the evacuees, Mam? Johnny asked as Irene went through the door. Fancy that daft Eirlys taking home three boys! What her mam said when they all walked in I daren’t think. She had plenty to say about it tonight. I hopped out as soon as she started on. Then he turned to share a smile with his mother and realised he was talking to himself. He began to tell his brother and Bleddyn instead.

Bleddyn knew Irene would be feigning sleep when he went up. She had no time for him lately, couldn’t even spend a few minutes to share the family supper, something they had once both enjoyed and considered important.

He forced a cheerful tone as he began telling Taff and Johnny about some of the customers he had served, encouraging their laughter to cocoon him from his worries. He and Irene were more like strangers these days.

When he went upstairs after dropping the plates into a bowl of water to soak, Irene wasn’t in bed. But when she saw him enter the room she hurriedly covered her semi-naked body with a dressing gown.

It’s all right, Irene, it’s only me and you haven’t got anything I haven’t seen before, he joked.

Don’t be coarse, she said.

What? Since when have you lost your sense of humour? That remark wouldn’t have upset you a few months ago. What’s happened? Do you find me so repulsive?

Of course not, Bleddyn. I’m tired, that’s all.

You aren’t ill, are you? You don’t seem to be with us these days.

I’m all right, I’m just tired and it’s late, so let’s go to sleep, shall we?

Bleddyn heard her breathing fast as though angry or upset. He didn’t move when it slowed and became even as she dropped off to sleep. He slept fitfully, worrying about the way Irene was distancing herself from them all. He was awake when the hooter sounded to tell the factory workers it was time for the morning shift.

He was the first to rise that morning, knowing that Irene would probably stay in bed until he and their sons had left for work. With her present attitude he did more of the house chores than usual, hoping that his willingness would help her get over whatever was troubling her.

Irene had never been robust, or even truly happy. There were periods when she drifted through the days, half sleeping, reading magazines and novels, and then went out when she should have been cooking their meals. But between these spells, she had managed the house and cared for him and the boys reasonably well, until the mood came on her and she began hiding away from him again, into this shell she built around her; a situation that usually eased once more after a few weeks. He never learned the reason for the strange periodic indifference and aloofness. When he tried to talk to her she ignored him until he went away or changed the subject to one she was willing to discuss.

This time was more worrying. She had never been so indifferent to them for so long. Bleddyn had always been afraid that a more serious mental state would develop, which was why he was careful to help her and reassure her whenever these moods, euphemistically referred to as nerves, occurred.

Johnny called on Eirlys the following evening when he had finished work painting the outside of Granny Moll’s house in Sidney Street. He had gone home first to change out of his working clothes and gather up the toys he had chosen to give to Stanley and Harold and Percival.

Eirlys was just in from work too and she whooped with delight when he staggered in carrying a large cardboard box filled with his abandoned treasures.

Stanley, with assistance from Harold, set up the clockwork train set while a solemn Percival looked on.

Eirlys asked them what they had done that day but they were either too shy or too wrapped up in their new toys to answer her. It’s as though we’re invisible, Eirlys whispered to Johnny with a laugh.

What say we take them to the pictures tonight? Johnny whispered back and was rewarded with the three boys’ full attention.

What have you done today? Johnny then asked but Stanley shook his head.

Nothing. That woman with the posh voice sent someone to collect us and we went to the school hall and listened to the headmaster chatting on about how we have to behave. What do they think we are, strange animals from a zoo?

What happened after the meeting? Johnny asked, stifling a grin.

Nothing. We just sat here and waited for you to come home. Your ma – he addressed Eirlys – said she was too busy and your pa was out.

We’ll make up for it at the weekend, Eirlys promised, disappointed that her mother couldn’t spare an hour or two for the lonely and confused children.

Too soft you are, Johnny smiled when she commented on this later. I was telling our Mam about you coming home with three when you were supposed to have one.

What did she say? Eirlys grinned, expecting a humorous comment.

Johnny’s smile faded. He couldn’t tell her his mother had shown no reaction at all. I told her you were daft. But, really, Eirlys, you’re such a sweetheart.

He kissed her, startling her with his intensity. Until then his kisses had been nothing more than a peck, a greeting such as her father and mother gave. She felt the pleasure of it warming her and the embarrassment of it colouring her cheeks. Perhaps they were becoming more than friends. Shyly she looked at him and he kissed her again.

Eirlys was an only child without cousins or aunts and uncles. If envy could be said to be part of her character, she was envious of Johnny’s large family. A growing fondness for Johnny was tinged with a longing to become a part of the Castle family’s closeness. A lively throng of relatives all involved with each other’s lives, caring and sharing, had long been yearned for. Johnny’s kiss had given flight to that dream.

A few days after the evacuees had arrived she went to call on Johnny, but found his father, Bleddyn, there with Taff. She was invited in but immediately sensed a tension, as though an argument had taken place. Both men were standing. Bleddyn walked around the room as she entered and words hung in the air, waiting to be said.

At home in the place she visited often, she offered to make tea and went out into the small kitchen to do so. She hummed to herself, aware that things were being said that Bleddyn did not want her to hear. Rattling the china unnecessarily to make sure they knew she was re-entering the room, she was surprised to see Taff’s girlfriend Evelyn there.

Hello Evelyn, I’ll get another cup, shall I?

Thanks, Evelyn said, in a low voice. Something was seriously wrong, Eirlys could see that and she wondered whether she should pour the tea and make an excuse to leave. This was clearly not her concern.

When she had filled the cups she reached for the jacket she had abandoned with her handbag and said, Best I go. You’re obviously in the middle of a discussion. Tell Johnny I’ll be home all evening if he wants to call.

No, don’t go, Evelyn said. You can be the first to congratulate us.

She looked at Taff, who forced a smile and went to stand beside her before saying, Evelyn and I are getting married.

Throwing down her coat again, Eirlys hugged them both and wished them every happiness. This is sudden, isn’t it? I didn’t know you were even engaged!

We are now, from today, and the wedding will be very soon.

Wonderful, Eirlys said. But she was curious to know the reason for the rush. Surely Evelyn wasn’t – Her eyes dropped front Evelyn’s face to the region of her waist and quickly back again.

No, I’m not expecting, Evelyn said. We’ve just decided, that’s all.

Making her excuses to get away from the strange atmosphere which should have been joyous but was not, Eirlys hurried home. She was at her back gate when she heard Evelyn calling and she waited for her, wondering what to say. More congratulations? Or should she wait for Evelyn to speak first?

I’m sorry you walked into that scene, Evelyn said.

I thought it best to leave. Eirlys hesitated. I had the impression that I interrupted something. I’m the one to be sorry.

I don’t want this talked about, mind, Evelyn told her, but I want you to know what happened.

Only if you want to tell me. Will you come in? We can go to my bedroom.

No. It isn’t a long story. Taff and I were kissing and, well, it was getting a bit out of control, and well, my mam walked in and thought we’d been – you know. She and our Dad insist that after debasing me – what a way to talk about love, eh? – after ‘debasing’ me in that way, we had to get married before it went too far and I was ‘ruined’.

Taff’s mother seemed relieved somehow, glad to be getting one of her sons married and off her hands. She was in one of her strange moods, you know, as though she was there in body but not in her head. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s forgotten all about it before tomorrow.

Eirlys could see that Evelyn was upset. It was a sad way to begin planning a wedding. I am sorry, Evelyn, but you do love Taff, don’t you? You and he have been together for years. It isn’t such a dreadful thing, is it?

I love Taff, yes, of course I do, I think I always have, but I don’t know whether he loves me and now I’ll never know, will I?

There didn’t seem to be anything to say to comfort her and Eirlys watched as she walked away, head down, dejected. It was not a good way to begin a marriage. She hoped Taff would be kind and loving and convince her that he would have proposed anyway. Evelyn needed to be reassured of his love or her life would be incomplete.

Excited by the story in spite of her concern for her friend, her thoughts flew to the kiss she and Johnny had shared and she wondered if, one day, she and Evelyn would be sisters-in-law and be able to share all their confidences.

To her surprise and pleasure, Evelyn was waiting for her at lunchtime the following day and they went to a café for a snack, for which Evelyn insisted on paying.

I need to talk to someone or I’ll burst, she explained. You know that Taff and Johnny and their father all work for Granny Molly Piper over on the beach and in the cafés, don’t you?

Yes, of course. They all help during the holiday season. Eirlys nodded. It’s a family concern.

That’s the problem. Granny Moll came to see me this morning to welcome me to the family as though she was Taffs grandmother, which she isn’t. She’s related to Bleddyn’s brother Huw, she’s his mother-in-law in fact, but although she acts as though she’s the head of the whole family, she’s no relation to Bleddyn. But as Bleddyn and his brother Huw have worked for Pipers all their lives she has taken it upon herself to become matriarch. And her control includes Bleddyn and Irene, Johnny and Taff.

The family-hungry Eirlys could see no problem with this.

What’s wrong with being accepted into the whole family? They work together, don’t they? I think it’s wonderful that Mrs Piper welcomed you.

Mrs Piper, or Granny Moll as she likes to be called, welcomes me as an extra pair of hands during the summer months. I’ll be expected to give up my job and work on the sands or in the café.

They all give up their winter jobs and work on the beach. They’ve done so for years. You wouldn’t like that?

No, I’d hate it and I’ve no intention of giving up a job I enjoy because Granny Moll Piper tells me I should.

Is that what you were discussing with Taff and Johnny’s father?

They all do what Granny Moll says. I don’t understand it. Taft’s and Johnny’s father, and his brother Huw, started on the sands when they were still at school and Huw married Granny Moll’s daughter. Fine. But that doesn’t give her the right to tell Bleddyn and Irene and their sons what to do, does it?

Bleddyn and Taff and Johnny work on the sands because they love it. Johnny’s mother hates it so she doesn’t, so why do you worry about it? Surely you can choose? I wouldn’t give up my job if I were in your position. I enjoy it too much. But I’d love to help when I could. And if I found it more enjoyable than what I do now, I might be pleased to be involved and be a part of a big family like the Pipers. Why don’t you talk it over and tell them how you feel?

You don’t know Granny Moll! It’s a family business and new members are expected to automatically give up their job and help.

I’d love it, Eirlys breathed happily, seeing the dream and not the reality.

Then you’d better tell Granny Moll and she’ll make sure Johnny proposes to you!

Eirlys was startled at how much that thought excited her.

She went inside and told her parents that Johnny’s brother, Taff, was marrying Evelyn.

Not before time if what I’ve heard is true. Carrying on they were and in her mam’s house too.

Kissing they were, Mam, Eirlys protested. Her parents have made too much of it and now they’re shaming her.

If that’s what’s called kissing in this day and age, then you’d better watch out or you’ll be in a worse position than her, my girl, her mother warned.

Mam! Eirlys ran upstairs in embarrassment.

I don’t want no hasty marriage for you, her mother called up the stairs. Eirlys covered her ears. She didn’t want to hear any more. Loving someone was being reduced to something sordid, and the love she felt for Johnny was nothing like that. It was calm, and tenderly affectionate. Then she relived his kisses and thought of what Evelyn had said about the way she and Taff had been kissing and she was overcome with the reminder that perhaps love was more exciting than she had yet experienced.

Two

Eirlys and Evelyn did not know each other well, but once the engagement of Evelyn and Johnny’s brother Taff was announced they began to meet more frequently. Neither had a sister or a brother and Evelyn needed someone with whom to discuss the arrangements for her special day. She didn’t want to approach Beth or Lilly, Taff’s cousins. The Castles would take charge of things soon enough.

Eirlys and she went together to look at wedding dress, Although, Evelyn explained, my mother will want to be with me when I make the final choice.

They talked about the Castle family at first, Evelyn having some doubts about belonging to such a possessive group, Eirlys, in her euphoric mood of burgeoning love, convinced it would be heaven. I love Taff, Evelyn said, but I’m uneasy about taking on the Castle family with Granny Molly Piper at its head. She’s kind at first but you soon realise how manipulative she is, persuading you something is your idea when she wants you to do something.

Come on, she isn’t that bad, surely?

Did you know Taff wanted to train as a carpenter? But Granny Moll insisted he was needed on the sands and his father agreed with her.

Taff loves it though, like Johnny does.

Yes, Evelyn said cynically, it’s childhood for ever, Moll running their lives.

He’ll stay in the family firm though, won’t he?

Unless something crops up to give him the strength to leave, she said thoughtfully.

And Johnny?

Oh, Johnny has never wanted anything else… You know, Granny Molly Piper has all but taken over the arrangements for the wedding, Evelyn complained as they watched the assistant removing a dress from its layers of tissue paper.

Eirlys sympathised but, surrounded by the magical displays of wedding gowns and all the extras, she imagined that if it were her marrying Johnny Castle, she’d be thrilled to be made so welcome.

As time went on and dress after dress was slipped carefully over and then off Evelyn’s head, the two girls laughed and oohed and aahed and frowned and considered their way through the gown department of the largest shops in the town, and eventually selected two from which Evelyn would finally make her choice.

Saturday afternoon was the only time when they were were free to meet and shop, as both worked office hours five and a half days a week; Eirlys at the council offices and Evelyn in a factory making cables for army vehicles. When they finally settled for two, Evelyn whispered, The truth is, Eirlys, I’m not really thrilled with either. D’you think Hannah Wilcox would be able to make one for me?

I don’t think there’s time, unless you delay the wedding for a few weeks.

Come with me to see Taff. Johnny will probably be there and we can scrounge a cup of tea and a sandwich.

Do you mind if I call for the boys first? Eirlys asked. I try to give Mam and Dadda a break from them when I can.

After collecting Stanley, Harold and Percival they went to Bleddyn and Irene’s house but it was empty.

Of course, they’ll be at the chip shop, won’t they? Eirlys said.

I thought today was his father’s Saturday off. Evelyn frowned.

Never mind, we’ll go for a walk instead.

A walk to the chip shop? Stanley said hopefully.

I ’ates walking, Percival complained.

Bleddyn Castle had gone to see his brother to discuss the wedding of his son to Evelyn. As usual the house was full, with Huw and his wife Marged entertaining Marged’s mother, Granny Moll, her sister Audrey and Audrey’s fiancé of many years, Wilf Thomas.

Where are the kids? Bleddyn asked as he flopped into a chair near the fire.

Our four are all out, thank goodness, Huw sighed.

Our three now Ronnie’s married, Marged corrected. Our Lilly’s got a date but we don’t know who with.

Secret meetings with a bloke she won’t talk about, Huw grumbled. Twenty-six she is, mind, and going out with someone she won’t even put a name to.

Our Beth is at a dance with Freddy, Marged went on, glaring at Huw to remind him they didn’t want to discuss Lilly and her secret boyfriend, and young Eynon is at the pictures.

Beth at a dance? I didn’t think Beth liked dancing.

She doesn’t, but that Freddy Clements does, so she goes with him and sits while he dances with other girls. Huw shrugged. Daft, but there you are. They’ve been friends for so long they don’t seem like a couple about to get engaged, do they?

Where are your lot, Bleddyn? Granny Moll Piper asked. We haven’t seen your Irene for ages.

I don’t see much of her myself, Bleddyn admitted. Irene isn’t very well. You know how tired and depressed she gets sometimes. As for Taff and Johnny, they’re probably out courting and it’s Taff I came to talk to you about. He and Evelyn are going to get married as you know.

D’you think that’s wise, with the war and everything? There’s the conscription that will soon take the eighteen-year-olds away, and the future isn’t that cheerful, Moll warned. I think they should wait.

Bleddyn shook his head. All the more reason to get settled. It’ll give the boys some comfort, knowing there’s someone at home waiting for them.

Just so long as it’s what Taff really wants, Marged said pointedly.

When are they planning to tie the knot? Huw asked. If it’s soon, then it’s best we get some food hidden away before the food rationing threatened for next year, eh, Marged? We’ll want to give them a good spread.

Don’t be so hasty, Huw, Marged laughed. They’ve only got engaged now this minute! Give it a bit of time.

Fact is, Bleddyn said slowly, they plan to marry very soon and we wondered, me and Irene, whether you’d make the cake and do the food, Marged.

When exactly? Moll asked, suspicion quirking an eyebrow.

Three weeks’ time and no, before you ask, she hasn’t got a bun in the oven!

We weren’t— Marged protested.

Yes we were, Huw grinned. "At least I was! So, Bleddyn, boy, what’s the rush