Day Thirteen (Saturday)
Edward allowed himself an extra half an hour in bed as it was a Saturday, before heading down for breakfast. He guessed it would be a little busier than usual, with most of the tables taken, as it had been the previous weekend. It was a good base for trips out onto the Gower Peninsula. It was quite popular with families at weekends, it seemed. Edward presumed this one would be no exception. The weather had generally been fine for most of the week, apart from when Edward had got soaked on his way back from Neath. It was expected to remain nice until Sunday afternoon, when rain would blow in again off the bay. No doubt the good weather they’d been enjoying would bring the visitors flocking to the Gower in their droves, to take advantage of any sunshine before it inevitably turned. By Sunday afternoon, the clouds would struggle to rise above the higher ground overlooking Swansea and would happily empty their heavy contents on the city. It was a familiar pattern. It always had been during Edward’s years living there. The basic topography of West Glamorgan hadn’t changed, he imagined. It had probably altered little in eons.
Edward presumed most of the weekend getaway enthusiasts would be on their way home by the time the rain came. He might be on his way home too or moving his scant belongings into a room above Jill’s shop, one he realised he hadn’t even looked at yet. He’d neglected to accept Jill’s suggestion to take a proper look around her home. In truth, he’d been too befuddled by her proposal that he move in and help her look after the shop. It had come out of the blue. It had taken him completely by surprise. His usual calm assuredness had momentarily deserted him. Everything else had temporarily slipped his mind.
Taking a look at the rooms would have been the sensible thing to do. At least then, he’d have a better idea of what he was getting himself into. Judging by the shop, he imagined Jill’s home above could be something of a mess. Edward disliked disorder. Left to his own devices, he was an organised and well-ordered man. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere that failed to meet his exacting high standards and was full of clutter. Then he shrugged to himself. Perhaps sorting that and making it tidy would just be an extension of sorting out the shop. Both were entirely possible if he set his natural efficiency to the task in hand. It wasn’t in itself reason to decline Jill’s offer. Besides, he liked a challenge. If things weren’t a bit chaotic and been allowed to deteriorate somewhat, Jill would have no need of him.
Edward had been right. He didn’t get his window seat. He hadn’t expected to. He had to sit at a little table off to one side, which wasn’t normally used. The guesthouse wasn’t usually sufficiently busy. It didn’t matter. There was just enough room for him where he was. He had room for his orange juice, his pot of tea, his cooked breakfast, and his toast. He dreaded to think how many sausages and rashes of bacon he’d consumed in the last fortnight. It was as many as he’d eaten in the previous six months, possibly more.
After breakfast, Edward had a quick shower in the lukewarm water, before heading out. He had a lot to think about. Big decisions needed to be made. He was running out of time in which to make them. He had much to weigh up in his mind. Things couldn’t be postponed any longer. It was strange. He’d always been so decisive in the past. It had been an easy decision to settle in Oxford. He’d wasted no time embarking on a career. He’d proposed to Angela not long after they’d both graduated. They’d mutually agreed to delay having children until they were financially secure. All this had been straightforward. Edward had rarely been filled with doubt. He’d owed a lot of his success in the business world to quick, clear, concise thinking. He’d made big decisions on the spot, and they’d normally been the right ones. He’d been able to weigh up deals in an instant and make the correct evaluation and formulate an appropriate plan. He hadn’t delayed asking Alice to marry him. He even knew when the time was right to give it all up. Now, he was struggling to find that same level of decisiveness. Perhaps because it had become more a matter of the heart than just the head.
Edward didn’t go to Meredith’s coffee shop. He couldn’t bring himself to, even though he knew she wouldn’t be working. By saying goodbye, he’d inadvertently brought the curtain down on that particular chapter of his time in Swansea. Of course, he would go back eventually if he extended his stay. He just couldn’t do it straight away. He’d have to let a little time pass, a few days at least. In the meantime, he’d have to find somewhere else to enjoy his morning coffee. It wouldn’t be as good. He was confident of that. Edward found a modern, hipster-style coffee house near the High Street to try. It had pleasant wooden décor and a nice ambience, that enticed him to enter. The cakes looked appetising, though they were more of the trendy, new variety than the traditional ones Meredith had made and sold. They were fine, but Edward knew which he preferred. He was perhaps showing his age.
Being an organised chap, Edward thought about getting a pen and paper and listing the arguments for and against both staying and leaving. He thought that might help him reach a decision. Then he thought that was no way to do it. He wasn’t giving enough consideration to the part Alice had to play in all of this. Even if she planned to leave him, the house was still his, he supposed. He’d invited her in. He could just as easily invite her to leave, although that seemed harsh. That wasn’t really his style, whatever she’d done. He was a gentleman after all. He couldn’t just throw her out onto the street, although some might have been tempted to do exactly that. The house was in fact big enough, that they could live in separate wings and their paths barely cross. That was yet another possibility Edward hadn’t considered. The more he thought about it, the more choices he seemed to have. The most pressing remained was he to return to Oxford the following day or was he stay put where he was? If he could decide that much, it would be a start.
Edward got fed up thinking about it. It frustrated him a little that for a supposedly decisive man, he remained so undecided. Was Jill the kind of woman he really wanted to share a home with? She was a vegan for a start, something Edward wasn’t and was uncertain if he truly approved of. She was scatty and muddled and unlike Edward quite haphazard. She had a dog. She clearly wasn’t a businesswoman, even though she owned a shop. She was pleasant, however, not unattractive, and quite charming in her own way. Alice on the other hand was a model of efficiency and feminine beauty combined. She had a good job, one she excelled in. She was someone he’d always been proud to be seen out with, lightly holding onto his arm, as they walked. She was refined, elegant, and always well-dressed. She could also be a little remote and cold. She maintained a façade which rarely dropped. Even when she’d been discovered in her affair with Paul, her composure had largely remained intact. She hadn’t thrown herself at Edward’s feet, to beg forgiveness. She hadn’t seemed too bothered in truth. It was almost as if Edward had just caught her out in some small white lie, that perhaps she’d spent more on a coat than she’d first admitted, but it was nothing to get too het up about. It would all be glossed over and forgotten by morning. That was what she seemed to think.
Edward got fed up mulling it all over. Instead, he got out his book to read. He’d finished The Country of the Blind and had moved onto the other stories, The Star, The New Accelerator, The Remarkable Case of Davidson’s Eyes. HG Wells had been a very clever man, as Edward was in many ways himself. Someone like HG Wells would have been sure to know what to do in Edward’s situation. He’d been blessed with eloquence and brilliance in his lifetime. The answer would have been staring him in the face. He’d have known instinctively what the correct course of action was. Perhaps Edward should just trust his instinct also, as he usually had in his work. Perhaps he should give it no more thought for now. He’d enjoy a pleasant day by himself and when it came time to see Jill, he’d just somehow know what to say. The answer would doubtlessly present itself in due course, when it needed to. That was his earnest hope anyway.
Edward finished his coffee and cake and closed his book. He left the coffee shop and proceeded along High Street, past the ruins of Swansea Castle and down Wind Street. He hadn’t reached an active decision in his mind where he was going, not that he was aware of. Yet, he somehow knew where he was going all the same. He was going back to the Dylan Thomas Centre. He’d try and get some inspiration from the great man, before perhaps enjoying a bite of lunch there. Sometime in the afternoon, he’d wander over to see Jill in the bookshop and give her his answer. She was probably waiting and wondering, or maybe the whole thing had slipped her mind. That would be embarrassing, if Edward turned up with some announcement of great significance and she had no idea what he was talking about. Hopefully, that wouldn’t happen. Hopefully, her suggestion that he help out in the shop and take a room above had been a serious one.
Walking round the Dylan Thomas Centre, Edward was struck by the realisation that the great writer had never forgotten his roots, his happy, Welsh childhood and growing up in the Uplands area of Swansea. He’d lived in London. He’d travelled extensively in America. Yet, everything always came back to Wales and Swansea in particular. Even when writing in the remote boathouse in Laugherne, to the west of the Gower, Dylan Thomas still drew most of his inspiration from the observations he’d made of the people of Swansea, the characters, habits, and practices of those folk he’d encountered in their ordinary lives, that made the city and surrounding area what it was. Edward had never forgotten his roots either, or perhaps he had for a bit. That was the painful truth. He too had some Welsh blood in him. His father had grown up in Cardiff. Edward had spent his formative university years in Swansea. He’d put those years to the back of his mind for the last forty years. Now he’d returned and the memories had returned to the forefront of his mind too. Perhaps they were providing a hint that was telling him what he had to do.
Edward ate his lunch at the Dylan Thomas Centre. He had quiche, sautéed potatoes, and a mixed salad, washed down with a very agreeable glass of Pinot Noir. Fortified by red wine, he was ready to face Jill and give her his answer. He followed the River Tawe as it meandered it way past both the city’s two museums and the stylish apartments of the Maritime Quarter. Leaving that area behind him, he passed Swansea Prison and the Civic Centre. Shortly after passing the guesthouse where he was staying, perhaps for just one more night, he turned inland. He followed Guildhall Road South, before branching off at Francis Street for Jill’s shop. Once outside, he took a deep breath before stepping inside. He was rather surprised to realise he felt quite nervous.
‘Hello, how are you today?’ Jill greeted him.
She made no mention at all of the matter that was no doubt occupying both their minds. At least Edward assumed it was occupying her mind too. Perhaps it was just occupying his. That would be quite awful if that was the case, Edward thought to himself. He trusted it wasn’t so, and his first instinct had been correct. She was just being polite. No doubt, they’d get round to discussing the truly important matters of the day in the fullness of time once niceties had been observed.
‘I’m very well, thank you,’ Edward replied. ‘I’ve just been for coffee and then back to the Dylan Thomas Centre for lunch and to have another look round.’
‘So, you are finally being converted,’ Jill commented, making a little joke at Edward’s expense.
‘Just a little, perhaps,’ Edward admitted.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ Jill asked.
‘That would be nice,’ Edward said.
Jill put the kettle on to boil. There was a momentary silence. Should he or should she break the ice?
‘So,’ she said at last. ‘Have you given any more thought to my little proposal?’
That was a relief to Edward. She hadn’t forgotten and indeed she’d brought it up first.
‘I have, as a matter of fact,’ Edward answered, without giving too much away.
‘Is that all? Have you perhaps come to a decision?’ Jill continued to quiz him.
‘Well, there’s a lot to think about and consider, but I think I probably have,’ Edward said.
‘Don’t leave me in suspense then,’ Jill said. ‘Spit it out, man.’
‘What I’ve decided is I’ll stay at least for a while longer. I can help in the shop, until we get it properly sorted out. We can just take it from there and see how it goes week by week, I guess. Perhaps in that time my thoughts about everything and the future may become clearer,’ Edward said.
‘And will you take one of the rooms above the shop?’ Jill asked.
‘At least on a temporary basis,’ Edward confirmed.
He didn’t want to overcommit. He imagined it would take a few weeks to get the shop properly shipshape, perhaps a month or even a little longer. Everything might be clearer then. Perhaps Alice would have tracked him down and come to get him and drag him back to Oxford. She’d probably already guessed where he’d gone. There weren’t all that many places he could realistically have gone to. London might have been another, to stay with old work friends, or perhaps to a cottage in the middle of nowhere. That also would have been a very Edward thing to do in the circumstances, somewhere Alice would never find him. Of course, in truth it was unlikely she was even looking. She probably didn’t care very much that he’d taken off. It meant she could spend time with Paul.
‘So, that’s settled then,’ Jill said. ‘You can move in as soon as you like.’
‘I thought tomorrow, a Sunday, might be as good a day as any, to bring my things over,’ Edward suggested.
‘Tomorrow will be perfect. I’ll help you move them,’ Jill said.
‘You can if you like, but I’ve actually travelled very light,’ Edward admitted.
‘That’s OK. I’d like to see where you’ve been living anyway, even if I only end up carrying one thing,’ Jill told him.
‘I fear it will be two bags at most,’ Edward confessed. ‘I guess I’ll be needing to buy more if I’m staying longer. I’ve already had to buy more clothes since arriving here.’
‘I’m sure we can sort that. Anyway, I for one am delighted you’re staying. It will be a pleasure to have you aboard,’ Jill said.
‘Thank you, I’m delighted too,’ Edward responded, still not quite certain exactly what he was agreeing to.
He’d find out in good time, he reasoned. That was all that really mattered. All his questions would be answered in the fullness of the passing days and weeks. He’d have to tell Alice he was staying longer. Perhaps he’d finally check some of her messages, those he hadn’t deleted without reading. It might give him some idea of the lie of the land. Another month in Swansea in the early summer wouldn’t be too bad at all. Perhaps he might even hire that car he’d thought about and get out and about a bit more. He could take Jill and Beti with him. He could get the shop sorted out. It really was the best compromise when he thought about. He could extend his stay without committing to anything permanent. That way, if things didn’t work out in the shop or if he suddenly started to pine for Alice, he could head back at little more than a moment’s notice. Of course, he wouldn’t do that. He’d have to give Jill due warning of any changes in his intentions. That was the only decent thing to do. Of course, he might end up staying the whole summer or even longer.
‘You know I think this calls for a celebration,’ Jill suddenly announced.
‘That sounds like a plan,’ Edward agreed. ‘What did you have in mind?’
‘I was thinking I could shut the shop early and we could go for a celebratory drink, just somewhere local,’ Jill suggested. ‘What do you say to that? It will give us a chance to work out some of the details and practicalities of you moving in.’
‘Why not? I rarely turn down the offer of a drink,’ Edward laughed. ‘I tell you what, I’ll take Beti for a walk and when I come back, we can head off to the pub. How does that sound?’
‘It sounds marvellous,’ Jill said, enthusiastically. ‘It will be my first drink in ages. It will probably go straight to my head.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after you,’ Edward promised.
Why had he said that? he wondered. Perhaps he now felt some responsibility towards this slightly chaotic woman he’d agreed to share a home with, for some reason still not quite known to him. He’d done it now. There was no going back. He’d given his word. He couldn’t break it. At the very least, he’d have to get the shop sorted and in good efficient, working order. Not only would he get it clean and tidy, with books off the floor and catalogued, he might even get some new shelves and bookcases for her and give the place a lick of paint whilst he was at it. He’d work out a plan of action once he got started. He had little doubt it would all fall neatly into place once he put his mind to it. Edward took Beti’s lead and led her towards the front door.
‘See you later,’ Jill shouted, as he pulled it shut behind him.
Still no sign of any customers, Edward reflected. Did the woman live off thin air? She couldn’t earn enough to keep a sparrow going, from what he’d observed. Perhaps she’d inherited from her late husband. Perhaps that was the only reasonable explanation. Perhaps she was just doing it as a hobby. It hardly seemed plausible she was making enough for it to be considered a viable business. Perhaps she was doing better on the mail order side of things than she let on. Perhaps like himself she was a person of hidden means.
Edward and Beti wandered onto King Edward’s Road and continued to the end, where they passed the familiar St Helen’s Rugby and Cricket Ground, continuing past its long car park, before reaching the bottom entrance to Singleton Park. Edward thought he’d do one traverse of the park before heading back. He started at the lowest point and slowly made his way upwards, passing the Singleton Abbey entrance to the university campus. He continued past the ornamental gardens and woodlands path, before eventually reaching the famous Swiss Cottage landmark. He could see Swansea Botanical Gardens above. He wouldn’t go there today. Instead, he continued to the very top of the park, past Gorsedd Stone Circle, until he reached the northern Gower Road entrance that led to the residential area of Sketty. There, he made his way back down on the opposite side to the one he’d walked up, keeping Uplands and the top end of Brynmill to his left. He knew he was nearly back once he saw the shallow lake and wooded area that occupied the middle of the park. Edward thought about leaving via the Byrnmill exit, but instead continued all the way back to the bottom, where Singleton Park exited onto the beach road. Jill was true to her word. As soon as Edward walked through the door, she switched off the lights and got out her keys to lock the front door.
‘Let’s go then,’ she said, with undisguised enthusiasm.
Either the prospect of a drink or Edward moving in and helping with the shop had given her a new spring in her step and an optimism and energy for what lay ahead.
‘There’s a pub just round the corner, where they know Beti. They won’t mind her coming in,’ Jill continued, taking Edward’s arm, and leading him along.
Edward still had hold of Beti’s lead.
‘Sounds ideal,’ he said, happy to be directed to their destination.
‘This is going to be such fun,’ Jill said. ‘It could be the perfect solution to all my problems.’
‘I’ll do my best, but don’t expect too much,’ Edward said.
‘Don’t underestimate yourself,’ Jill said. ‘I can see you’re just the man to get the shop and house sorted. It’s been missing a man about the place. There’s been no one since John passed away.’
‘No one?’ Edward asked.
‘Not really. I haven’t even dated much. I’ve had one or two drinks with men, members of my Book Club and other groups, but just as friends and nothing more than that,’ Jill said.
‘How long’s it been?’ Edward asked.
‘About five years since John died. Anyway, let’s not think about that. It’s time to celebrate and be happy,’ Jill announced.
She brought him to a pub on Brynmor Road. It was opposite one of those where he’d often had his evening meal during the past fortnight, but not one he’d been in yet himself. This would be his first time. At the bar, he ordered himself a pint of ale and asked Jill what she was having. He thought she might ask for a glass of wine or a gin and tonic. Instead, she asked for a pint of cider. They found a table in a corner, sat down, and made themselves comfortable.
‘Will you be eating?’ Edward enquired.
‘Will you?’ Jill replied.
‘I may have something,’ Edward said.
‘I may if you do,’ Jill said.
‘I’ll get a menu then,’ Edward said. ‘It will save me coming out again later.’
Jill kissed Edward warmly on the cheek when he finally escorted her back to the shop. They’d both consumed a few drinks by then.
‘I said it would go to my head. I feel quite tipsy,’ Jill admitted. ‘I’m not used to drinking anymore.’
‘It’s a Saturday night, so why not?’ Edward said, encouragingly.
He himself still felt reasonably sober, although he was aware he’d had a drink or two. He’d paid. He’d insisted on it. He wouldn’t allow Jill to open her purse once. She needed the money she had.
‘I’ll see you in the morning then,’ Jill said, taking Beti’s lead from Edward’s hand.
‘I’ll be round after breakfast and we can go and collect my things, the few that there are,’ Edward said. ‘At least you’ll be able to see my room and where I’ve been staying.’
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ Jill said.
Edward smiled back. He then watched her as she slipped inside the shop, before heading off himself. She was a nice lady. She was a bit odd, but she was good company. All that time she’d spent on her own. It didn’t bear thinking about. It wasn’t as if she old. She was only in her fifties. Her late husband had been older, just as Edward was older than Alice. Why did women often choose older men and men choose younger women? It didn’t really make sense. Women as a rule lived longer. By rights, it should have been the other way round. Perhaps it was just the natural order of things, or unnatural order in fact. Back at the guesthouse, Edward joined Alan and Gwen for a final nightcap.
‘I’m sorry to say this will be my last night,’ he announced. ‘I’ll settle up for my second week in the morning if that’s all right.’
‘Well, it’s been lovely having you to stay,’ Alan said.
‘It has indeed,’ Gwen agreed.
‘You’ve looked after me wonderfully. I couldn’t have asked for more,’ Edward told the couple. ‘You’ve been perfect hosts in every way.’
‘Perhaps you can leave us a review on Trip Advisor,’ Alan suggested.
‘I’ll certainly do that,’ Edward confirmed.
‘So, what did you decide in the end?’ Gwen asked. ‘Are you staying on in Swansea or going home?’
Edward paused for a moment. Was he really doing so for dramatic effect? He wouldn’t be that petty, would he? Truthfully, he couldn’t quite believe the answer he was about to give himself.
‘I’m going to stay with Jill for a bit, at least until I get the shop sorted,’ Edward said. ‘After that. I’m undecided. I guess it will depend on how things progress and work out. But I should be around for the first part of the summer.’
‘You’ll have to pop in on us when you’re passing,’ Alan said.
‘Yes, you can come for a drink any night,’ Gwen echoed.
‘I’ll certainly do that,’ Edward replied.
With that, he downed his whisky and soda, before starting to make his way to his room and bed.
‘Thanks again,’ he said. ‘You really have made my stay a special one.’
‘Well, we’re always here if you need a room,’ Alan said.
‘If I need a guesthouse in Swansea, I wouldn’t stay anywhere else,’ Edward assured them. ‘I can absolutely promise that.’
What was more, he meant it. Whatever happened during his time in the bookshop, he was resolved on returning to Swansea more regularly in the future. If he did, Alan and Gwen’s guesthouse was certainly the place he’d stay at. In the comfort of his bedroom, he got out his phone. He could see Alice had both rung and texted again. He started to read one text. Where are you? What on earth do you think you’re playing at? We have things to discuss and sort out, it read. A proper reply could wait. Instead, he typed the following and pressed send. I’ll be staying a while longer. I’ll be in touch when I’m ready and my long-term plans are a bit clearer. Take care and say hi to Paul for me, Edward.
That last bit seemed a bit churlish, but Edward couldn’t resist his small joke, though he realised it might come across as just sarcastic and bitter on his part. He was, he realised, also making a point. She’d created this situation after all. None of this would have happened if she’d remained faithful. He’d still be in Oxford, playing a spot of tennis, going for leisurely walks and lunches, reading his book, watching sport both on television and at local sports grounds, sitting in the garden when the weather was fine, doing the occasional crossword. Alice had chosen to turn his world upside down. He’d just decided to run with it for once in his life. It had brought him to a strange point in time, where he was about to move in with another woman.
