The Womens' Reading Group. Chapter 2.

The view from the Traveller’s Rest was spectacular at any time, but today with the early autumn sunshine painting the hillside in swathes of colour it was hard for Debs to keep her eyes on her Sunday lunch. Leo insisted they ate out at least once a week in good weather and this was a favourite place for them both. Just a few miles out of town, the road started to rise as the mountains of mid-Wales came into sight. The inn was situated on a minor road with plenty of space for parking. Slightly elevated it afforded those wonderful views and today it was packed out. Fortunately Leo had booked early so they had their usual window table. A ray of sunshine cast a sparkle on the lake and Debs sighed with the beauty of it all. Leo smiled, knowing full well what had caused that happy sigh and lifted her glass so that it, too, gleamed in the sun.
‘Here’s to another glorious Autumn,’ she said, the toast a general one. Leo rarely made anything but expansive gestures and a few of the regulars returned the toast.
Debs lifted her fork to her mouth, the roast lamb looked and tasted heavenly, unlike some of the normal pub fare. The potatoes were crispy and the seasonal vegetables were lightly steamed so that they kept their bite. She was very fond of her food and only wished that she had Leo’s marvellous metabolism so that she could keep her weight down. Since giving up smoking it had become even harder, but there was a price to pay for everything, she thought.
‘Tuppence for them?’ her partner asked, knowing it made her laugh.
‘I was wondering whether I could get away with the pudding,’ she smiled back, ‘perhaps we could walk it off afterwards?’
‘Mmm…yes, I think that’s a good idea, we can have another bottle of wine as well.’
‘You can,’ Debs replied,’ I’m driving, so just one glass for me.’
‘Spoilsport! Oh well, all the more for me.’
‘Why not have just one glass and we’ll share a bottle later. It’ll be more fun for both of us.’
Leo looked sulky for a moment, she loved to dine in style, but she gave in graciously.
They were finishing up the meal with coffee when Leo noticed the couple walking by the lake. From here it was hard to tell whether they were both girls as they were wearing jeans, but one had a shock of bright auburn hair, so fiery it almost took her breath away. The other had what looked like short spiky blonde hair and she leaned forwards to get a better view.
‘What’s the matter?’ Debs looked up and tried to see what was so fascinating Leo.
‘Down there by the lake’s edge. What lovely hair she’s got, lets go down and have a closer look.’ She started to move her legs get up.
‘Wait a minute. I haven’t paid the bill, and perhaps whoever it is would rather be on their own? We can’t barge in on everyone, you know.’
‘Well you did say you wanted a walk. Come on, before they go.’
Debs paid the bill and watched as Leo slung her cape casually around her shoulders. It wasn’t unusual for Leo to act like this, she was forever striking up sudden friendships. Now she was already halfway to the lake by the time that Debs caught up. The couple had moved away towards the far side and looked as if they getting ready to leave. All Leo managed to see as the couple walked off towards the footpath was a glimpse of bright blue eyes under that mop of lovely hair. Her partner was taller and very slim with a handsome, rather than pretty face, but they both caught the eye. She would have loved to paint them both but she knew better than to try and catch them up. If she was meant to paint them then the opportunity would come again. Tucking her arm into her own partners she started to walk slowly along the lakeside, pausing now and again to note the play of light and shade in her mind’s eye. Later on she would make a rough sketch, but now she thought she should pay some attention to the woman who made her so happy for the last few years.

Nesta and Tricia had been eating their sandwiches in the shelter of the trees while looking at the inn and wishing they could afford a decent meal for a change. Well, Nesta was the one doing the wishing, Tricia was daydreaming as usual. They had got a lift early that morning from a motorist who took them as far as Welshpool. From there they had caught a bus and walked to here hoping to find a youth hostel for the night. The driver hadn’t been sure but he thought there was one somewhere nearby.
‘If y’don’t then head for Newtown,’ he’d offered, ‘plenty of small B&B’s there.’
They’d thanked him, knowing they couldn’t afford a room, but he had been kind and there were few left that would offer two young women a lift nowadays without expecting something more. Tricia’s shoe was wearing thin but they couldn’t do much about that, still, it was nice here while the sun was warm on their backs. Nesta had spotted the woman sat at the window of the inn and wondered idly what it would be like to sit there and eat a huge meal with plenty of wine. It had been a while since either had enjoyed that privilege. But they were far away from the North and that was all that mattered for now.
It was peaceful here by the lake and if it had been Summer they might have slept outdoors, but it was too cold and last week had been hell with pelting rain making the hitch-hiking miserable.
‘I suppose we had better move,’ Tricia said, we might have a way to walk yet.’
Nesta sighed, she didn’t want to move yet, but the afternoon was wearing on. She got up brushing grass from her jeans and that was when she saw the woman walking towards them. For a moment she felt the same panic as she had before her release, then she took a deep breath and felt better.
‘That’s the woman who was sat at the window. I wonder what she wants?’ she said.
‘Maybe nothing, but we won’t wait around. I expect she’s just walking anyway.’
Both noticed the other woman panting a little to catch up with her friend. Tricia’s sharp eyes took in the older woman who looked as if she was about to intercept them. She judged to woman to be in her fifties and her rather flamboyant hairstyle and clothes suggested a strong individual. The woman lagging behind was younger with short brown hair cut in a practical style while her heavier build was masked slightly by a rather crumpled, but modern trouser suit. It had taken no more than a minute to notice this, but already she was moving Nesta away. She was still too fragile to meet new people, however friendly these two looked.
They picked up their haversacks where they had been left by the stile. It had been so good to put them aside for a while, now they had to find somewhere to sleep for the night. A sign near the footpath said “Camping 2 miles”, if it came to that they would use the battered tent for another night. Gritting her teeth and ignoring the blister on her left heel, Tricia helped Nesta over the stile and strode off towards the river.

Driving back into the town centre Debs was turning the day’s events over in her mind, whilst Leo dozed in the passenger seat. There was no doubt in her mind that her partner was faithful to her, but even after two years she still found it amazing that such a warm and wonderful woman had chosen her, plain old dumpy her, to be her lover and friend. Her own fatalistic view of life had helped her to survive Leo’s short infatuations that never went beyond that. Still, it did hurt from time to time. Now she drove the Rover with skill around the twisting bends, her mind concentrating as she slowed down for passing cars. Born and brought up in Newtown, she knew how the tourists often took the road too fast, not knowing how easy it was to come unstuck with the narrowing curves. Easing her foot off the accelerator as she drove into town, she was able to spot Jane pushing the pram along the street, her head down and her lank hair looking worse than ever. Honking the horn, the girl saw her and a brief smile crossed her face before reverting to the normal glower. That made Debs think of her own daughter, now living in Cardiff with her father while she attended the nearby University of Wales. Unable to accept her mother’s lesbian relationship, she rarely came home and when she did was surly and even rude at times. How could she ever explain that she had always known she preferred women to men? That would make Rowan even more defensive, thinking that she might have been a mistake. How to tell her that her brief marriage had become a nightmare and that both Ian and her were able to end it without any hard feelings? That they both loved their daughter and had even considered an open marriage rather than lose their little girl’s affection?
Her concentration had slipped for a moment and now she put it from her mind as the main street gave way to the narrow lanes that lead to the Orchards. Tourists were still milling round the streets and lanes, looking for bargains in the small craft shops before they closed down for winter. Many of the shopkeepers would open on weekends only, the tourist trade going to the larger towns for the winter season. To make ends meet many would work on mail order over the winter or take temporary jobs in another town. It was a hard life, yet a curiously satisfying one.
She kept her own part-time job at the local surgery and helped Leo with her craft work and her exhibitions. Now her thoughts turned towards the harvest festival and her spirits lifted again as she thought of her own participation. Each year she baked the traditional harvest loaf, something she had done for twenty of her forty-two years in this town. Even as a child she loved helping her parents bake, they’re little shop catering for much of the town’s needs. Now the supermarkets had taken over, but there were still a few of the townspeople who baked their own bread, made preserves and grew their own vegetables. For some reason that made her think of May, but by then she was parking the car and the thought was lost.
‘Are we home already?’ Leo stretched as the car came to a halt.
‘You’ve slept for half an hour,’ came the reply, ‘I took the scenic route.’

The light was beginning to fade by the time that a fire was lit in the living room and a light meal prepared by Debs. Her love of baking also extended towards cooking and she’d made a light but tasty omelette which they shared by the fire along with a bottle of chardonnay. This was the time of day they both loved best, when there was nothing to do except to relax by the fire with the music or TV on and Leo’s head in Deb’s lap.
This room was the heart of the house. Just off the main room where they usually entertained, it had a cosier feel to it than the rest of the house. The ceiling was lower and the two windows faced the garden at the rear. Both thought it had originally served as a drawing-room and had spent some time removing layers of old wallpaper until they had a blank canvas to work from. Leo’s love of colour was muted here and the walls were now a warm coral with clean white woodwork and a beautiful wood floor that gleamed golden in the firelight. Swags of rich cream curtains hung at the windows, making them appear less tall and the individual touches of upholstery kept the overall look warm and welcoming.
Tonight a CD played soft instrumental music in the background as they discussed what they had thought of the set book.
The author was a favourite to both and this particular one seemed more relevant than usual as its main theme covered the years after the Second World War and how women adapted to their new role in life. The secondary theme suggested how woman now refused to become old before their time by taking some aspects of birth control into their own hands, this was the “Hidden Way” of the title.
‘I wonder if May will turn up?’ Debs thought out loud. ‘If she does then she could give some real insight into life in those days.’
‘Maybe not, remember she would have still been a child at the time and I’m sure she was brought up fairly strictly, remember she seemed nervous and wouldn’t come for a drink.’
‘I don’t think that means much. I’m sure she’s just shy, after all think how daunting Diane can be to any newcomer.’ Leo laughed at that.
‘Isn’t she one of Dr Davies’s patients though?’
‘Yes, she’s been seeing Brenda Wilkinson to have her blood pressure taken and she did tell me that May was feeling very depressed since her husband, Bert, died. ‘
‘Was it sudden then, ’Leo asked, looking up as Debs paused stroking her hair.
‘No, he was older than May, about seventy-five if I remember rightly. Still young nowadays, but he had advanced lung cancer, poor old thing. I think she nursed him to the end.’
‘Oh that’s sad, we really must take her under our wings, don’t you think?’
Debs just smiled. She’d played that just right, making Leo think it was her idea.
‘You go on about me, but you’re a right softy,’ she bent to kiss her lips and then neither spoke for a while.

May was wide awake at nine and still she couldn’t make up her mind if she would go to the group tomorrow night. She’d enjoyed the book enormously and thought the discussion notes would make for a lively debate. Unfortunately she had no idea how to go about this sort of thing and doubted she’d be any good at it. Of course she had talked with her Bert. He had been a marvellous husband and man, way ahead of his time in thinking that women should have a say in their own lives. They had talked about everything from the days when they were courting, right up to shortly before he died. The children used to laugh at them, but when Sally and Richard had come home for the funeral they had spoken of what a wonderful father he had been, always letting them discuss anything with him. She was proud of that. Not many children had done as well as her two. But her and Bert had scrimped and saved to put them both through grammar school, missing out on things like new clothes and holidays. The kids were always neat and tidy though and had wanted for nothing.
She thought of her eldest, Sally, born not long after her early marriage, now married with a boy of her own and still nursing part-time in London. She missed Sal, but she wouldn’t push herself on her children. Then there was Richard, the solemn one who had taken after her own father. Born five years after Sal and growing up in the 1960’s, he had stood out from his classmates like a sore thumb. How they had worried about him, but look at him now! The head of a University in Bristol, married with two children, he had bloomed late in life.
Maybe she should phone him, but what if he said she was being silly? No, this was one thing she would decide for herself and if she had to join in a discussion, well she’d just tell them all what it had been like, struggling with a young family after the war when jobs were hard to come by and her Bert still not fit after being gassed that once in the late years of the war. He’d still puffed at his Senior Service fags though, or Woodbines when they were cheaper.
The old clock on the mantelpiece chimed out ten o’clock, startling May who had gotten lost in her memories. Well why not? They were good memories, worth sharing, she thought. Who was she kidding? She’d already made up her mind to go, there was a rich fruit cake in the cupboard and she’d ironed her best dress. She might even wear her new scarf, a jaunty yellow print, it would go well with her navy dress.
She locked up and made sure all the switches were off before getting into bed. Marmalade made himself comfy in his usual place by her feet and she kissed the picture by her bedside before turning the light off.
If anyone had been there to see, they would have noticed the beauty in the photo, a young woman about seventeen dressed in a smart suit, her hair falling gently to her shoulders, the hat perched at a jaunty angle. The man beside her was smiling serenely, his best suit pressed within an inch of its life, the white shirt starched and the shoes gleaming. An attempt had been made to tame the unruly hair, but Brylcream alone couldn’t tame the lock that fell over his right eye, making it look as if he was winking. Perhaps he was, any man would be proud to wed such a lovely and clever woman.

Nesta and Tricia were snuggled up together in one single sleeping bag on a hard bed in the women’s dormitory of a Youth Hostel. They had arrived after an hour of walking and tired out had not complained when told there was only one bed available, but one could bunk down on the floor. They had stowed their bags in a locker and joined the motley assortment of people in the cramped dining room come kitchen. Most of the group had arrived for a canoeing weekend on the River Severn that run through Newtown and meandered over hills and down in the valleys until reaching South Wales where one branch emptied into the Severn Estuary near the city of Newport and the Bristol channel.
The group were lively and friendly, sharing their food with the girls who didn’t mind that it was a conglomeration of beans, chilli sauce, tomatoes and mushrooms, served with Naan bread and washed down with cheap wine. It warmed their stomachs and the wine made them both sleepy. Tricia offered to wash up, but the people were good-natured and seeing that both girls were worn out had left them alone.
Now Nesta’s head rested on Tricia’s shoulder as she snored softly in her sleep. Tricia was tired but her mind was busy planning what they would do tomorrow and where would they find lodgings for another night. Even another night at the Youth Hostel would take the last of their money and they couldn’t expect another group of generous people. She would have to walk into the town and see if she could find any kind of employment, just enough to allow them some rest and sleep before they moved on again, always running, always hiding.

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