Chapter 5

The story of Celia’s love life got a few people thinking. “You’re only young once.” pronounced Hilda. “Maybe I should have tried being an exotic dancer, or a racing driver.”

“Leopards don’t change their spots. You like books; and anyway, I have the distinct impression that you have experienced more of the interesting side of life than most of us.”

Hilda stared at him, and he wasn’t sure if he’d overstepped the mark, then she replied. “You aren’t wrong. I grew up in Tiger Bay. You seen the film? Yes, well Cardiff was a rowdy place then. People would do anything for their neighbours, but they’d also kick seven bells out of a uniformed bobby just because he was on their patch. It was that kind of place.

Long before England knew about immigrants, Cardiff had groups from so many different countries – Somalis, Norwegians. You name it. And they all speak with a Welsh accent now.

I miss it, and I don’t, if you get me. There was good and bad; I suppose there is everywhere. I don’t miss the tin bath in the kitchen. Oh yes, no kidding. I shared a bath with my brother until I was eleven. It only stopped then because I had a hissy fit; and that was because he pissed in the bath to gross me out. But I was aware that he was starting to look at me. I mean look at me.” she emphasised the words ‘look’ and ‘me’. He wanted to ask how old her brother was. Was this an older brother looking at his sister’s puberty as a sexual predator or was it a younger brother starting to take an interest in girls? “It made me self-conscious. Then Mum and I had the kitchen to ourselves of a Friday night. I liked that. The things she told me! I grew up fast once she decided I was old enough.

She told me about Marge: fifteen and four months pregnant when her Dad kicked her in the stomach for giving him lip. She lost the baby and the chance to have any more. Marge ran off five times; plenty of rumours on who the father was, but her Dad wasn’t her real dad, so even if they were true, it was kind of all right. After that, she left for good. But she was too old to be helped by social services, such as they were. So at nearly sixteen, she was alone.

She told me about Angharad; who was her mum’s sister as well. Yes, her dad had got his older daughter in the family way. Angharad was always a bit simple; Josie – her mum - thought it was a curse from God, but it wasn’t her fault, it was that bastard of a father. She was pretty, but slow. She was showing boys when she was thirteen. I think her dad, her granddad, probably had her too. Tough place.

Oh, but some days it was heaven to be there. People looked out for each other too. One time Jack Merryweather, a big black – from Jamaica I think, people used to call him words that I can’t repeat now – anyway, he comes charging down the street with five police fifty yards behind. Now there were plenty who thought blacks were, you know, monkeys, or stupid, or whatever, but they still were part of the Bay. He went in one front door, over the wall at the back, in the back door, back out the front, over the road and in someone else’s. All the street just said they hadn’t seen him.”

“What had he done?” asked Simon.

“He’d been in a pub and someone who should have known better had called him a c-. No, I won’t use the word, rhymes with loon. Anyway, Jack went for him. Put him in hospital. Turned out he was a sergeant in the police. Well, should have known better, shouldn’t he? The police man I mean. Jack laid low for a couple of days, but he was never going to not get caught if he stayed around, not a guy like him, six foot five and built like a brick karzy. So he took ship out of Cardiff.

It was a good, exciting place, but no prospects. And yes, I liked books; so I got out. I ... I...”

“You don’t have to tell me anything; but if you do, I won’t repeat it.”

“Given what you’re up to, you old goat, I guess you won’t be shocked. Well, I moved to Bristol and went on the game. Yes, I didn’t look like this then.”

“I bet you were a looker.”

“I was, I was. Oh you should have seen me. Hang on.” she toddled off to her room and came back with a picture he’d seen before. A girl was leaning on a door frame, leaning in a way that emphasised her bust; her skirt was short enough to show a great pair of legs.

“Is that you? I thought it was a granddaughter or something. You look fantastic! High class.”

“Thanks. I like to think I was good at what I did.”

“Why did you go to Bristol?”

“Well, you don’t shit in your own garden, do you? ‘Scuse my language. I could have gone on the game there, but I didn’t want the family to know. Angharad ended up on the game, poor mite. I don’t think she kept much of what she earned. Her dad was a real fucking bastard. Sorry I’m starting to get cross. Her old man fell into the dock between the dock and a ship. Not a good way to go; but not many people mourned him, I don’t think. Some people said he was pushed, but there was no evidence. Who knows? I told Ma and Pa I was a secretary. People didn’t travel then, so they weren’t going t’come and visit. I wrote, and they wrote back. First I was in a bedsit and -”