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Authors: Rosie Harris
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disembarked he’d gone straight to the Angel to look her up.
A hatchet-faced woman behind the tea urn had laughed at him when he’d asked for Kathy Miller. ‘Some sod put her in the club the end of last year and then sailed off. Don’t know where she is now.’
All the time he had been away at sea he’d thought constantly about the pretty fair-haired girl who’d won his heart. He’d been strictly brought up and now he was aghast at what had resulted from his unforgivable, rash action.
Anxious to make amends, he was determined to find her. He’d asked around for several days and then, surprisingly, he had bumped into her in the busy shopping centre. The fair, wavy hair, the deep-set grey eyes, the round, pretty face were just as he remembered them. Instead of looking slim with delicate curves, however, she was now heavily pregnant.
She recognised him immediately and he thought she was going to faint she went so white as she murmured his name. They were married as soon as he could get a licence. Ten weeks later Megan had been born.
He’d been bewitched from the moment he set eyes on the baby. Megan had his dark hair, and dark eyes. As she grew older they shared so many similar interests that it was like reliving his own childhood all over again.
Lynn, who had been born two years later, took after Kathy, something that became even more apparent as Lynn grew older. They were like two peas from the same pod. As well as looks, she had her mother’s impulsive nature, love of noise and crowds, and her habit of sulking if she couldn’t have her own way. Like her mother, she was also prone to inconsequential chatter, a habit that irritated both him and Megan.
Neither Kathy nor Lynn had been really settled in Beddgelert. He’d persuaded Kathy that they should go to live there with his mother after the war had started in 1914, but right from the start she’d been alienated by what she called the desolation and wildness.
It bewildered him when she claimed that the towering mountains were overpowering and threatening. Whenever he scaled their rugged sides, and rested in one of the shadowy groves, he found the utter silence peaceful and soothing.
To him the mountains were like sentinels guarding his home. Earth mothers, holding the sheep safe in their green, velvet-soft aprons.
Kathy hated the sheep. She complained that their plaintive bleating made her feel so irritable that she wanted to scream. She refused to walk where they were grazing in case they butted her.
In winter, when the narrow roads around Beddgelert were icy or blocked by snow, she stayed indoors, huddled over the fire, and he and the girls had to do all the shopping.
Only in summer, when the sun was shining and it was hot enough to lie on the sands at Porthmadog , did Kathy seem in the least bit happy. Then she was never at home. She would pack up a picnic and take Megan and Lynn to the beach, arriving back only minutes before he got home from work.
He never complained. It was enough for him that Kathy was happy.
Now, when Megan told him about Lynn’s friendship with a boy called Flash, all this came rushing back and all his old anxieties surfaced. He tackled Lynn about it in front of Kathy, hoping she would add her weight to his rebukes.
Lynn stared at him insolently, tossing back her mane of fair hair. ‘Our Megan’s been tittle-tattling about me again.’ She pouted, her big grey eyes filling with tears as she looked at her mother for support.
‘She didn’t need to, I’ve got eyes in my head,’ her father told her sharply. ‘I’ve noticed the change in you since we’ve been in Liverpool. You even dress differently. You go to extremes and wear your skirts inches above your knees trying to look like these young flappers. It’s a wonder you don’t find yourself mistaken for a “totty”. You mend your ways, girl. I shan’t tell you again,’ he threatened.
Her defiant attitude angered Watkin. Usually, he ignored her sulks and
A hatchet-faced woman behind the tea urn had laughed at him when he’d asked for Kathy Miller. ‘Some sod put her in the club the end of last year and then sailed off. Don’t know where she is now.’
All the time he had been away at sea he’d thought constantly about the pretty fair-haired girl who’d won his heart. He’d been strictly brought up and now he was aghast at what had resulted from his unforgivable, rash action.
Anxious to make amends, he was determined to find her. He’d asked around for several days and then, surprisingly, he had bumped into her in the busy shopping centre. The fair, wavy hair, the deep-set grey eyes, the round, pretty face were just as he remembered them. Instead of looking slim with delicate curves, however, she was now heavily pregnant.
She recognised him immediately and he thought she was going to faint she went so white as she murmured his name. They were married as soon as he could get a licence. Ten weeks later Megan had been born.
He’d been bewitched from the moment he set eyes on the baby. Megan had his dark hair, and dark eyes. As she grew older they shared so many similar interests that it was like reliving his own childhood all over again.
Lynn, who had been born two years later, took after Kathy, something that became even more apparent as Lynn grew older. They were like two peas from the same pod. As well as looks, she had her mother’s impulsive nature, love of noise and crowds, and her habit of sulking if she couldn’t have her own way. Like her mother, she was also prone to inconsequential chatter, a habit that irritated both him and Megan.
Neither Kathy nor Lynn had been really settled in Beddgelert. He’d persuaded Kathy that they should go to live there with his mother after the war had started in 1914, but right from the start she’d been alienated by what she called the desolation and wildness.
It bewildered him when she claimed that the towering mountains were overpowering and threatening. Whenever he scaled their rugged sides, and rested in one of the shadowy groves, he found the utter silence peaceful and soothing.
To him the mountains were like sentinels guarding his home. Earth mothers, holding the sheep safe in their green, velvet-soft aprons.
Kathy hated the sheep. She complained that their plaintive bleating made her feel so irritable that she wanted to scream. She refused to walk where they were grazing in case they butted her.
In winter, when the narrow roads around Beddgelert were icy or blocked by snow, she stayed indoors, huddled over the fire, and he and the girls had to do all the shopping.
Only in summer, when the sun was shining and it was hot enough to lie on the sands at Porthmadog , did Kathy seem in the least bit happy. Then she was never at home. She would pack up a picnic and take Megan and Lynn to the beach, arriving back only minutes before he got home from work.
He never complained. It was enough for him that Kathy was happy.
Now, when Megan told him about Lynn’s friendship with a boy called Flash, all this came rushing back and all his old anxieties surfaced. He tackled Lynn about it in front of Kathy, hoping she would add her weight to his rebukes.
Lynn stared at him insolently, tossing back her mane of fair hair. ‘Our Megan’s been tittle-tattling about me again.’ She pouted, her big grey eyes filling with tears as she looked at her mother for support.
‘She didn’t need to, I’ve got eyes in my head,’ her father told her sharply. ‘I’ve noticed the change in you since we’ve been in Liverpool. You even dress differently. You go to extremes and wear your skirts inches above your knees trying to look like these young flappers. It’s a wonder you don’t find yourself mistaken for a “totty”. You mend your ways, girl. I shan’t tell you again,’ he threatened.
Her defiant attitude angered Watkin. Usually, he ignored her sulks and
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