"

The Might-Have-Been Girl A novel by Bronwen Welsh Copyright 2015

Chapter 19   A Weekend at Swansea

Before Reggie and I parted on my first full weekend off, he gave me some good news. The following Saturday his football team had a bye due to an uneven number of teams in their league, so he had the weekend off too.

He spoke a little diffidently as if he was afraid I would say 'no'.

“I've got a relative, Aunt Jane who lives in Swansea. I had a letter from her recently saying it's been ages since she last saw me and why don't I pay her a visit? I was wondering how you would feel if we went down to see her next weekend?”

I was thrilled at the thought of a whole weekend with Reggie and enthusiastically agreed.

“She lives in this big old house, all on her own since Uncle Reg died. My parents have tried to persuade her to move into something smaller but she won't have it. She says she was born in that house and she'll die in it. Anyway, there are plenty of spare bedrooms, so we could stay with her rather than go to a hotel if that's alright with you?”

I had a sneaking suspicion that Reggie only wanted us to use one bedroom, although not knowing his aunt I wasn't sure what she would think of that. Perhaps we would have adjoining rooms and sneak from one to the other like those farces that theatre-goers so enjoyed in the nineteen-thirties? The thought made me giggle, and then blush when Reggie asked me what that was about.

The week's rehearsals went smoothly enough, and I could tell that Mark was pleased with the way things were going. I could hardly wait for the weekend to arrive. One of the many pleasurable things about being a girl going away for a weekend is deciding what clothes to take, while restricting oneself to a single suitcase of course!

Men and boys have it so easy, a couple of pairs of jeans or trousers, tops or shirts, socks and shoes, a jumper and a coat. However, I wouldn't swap with them for worlds.

With a sense of anticipation, I packed my sexy black lingerie set together with a matching full slip, plus a couple of other sets of course; stockings and tights, my deep blue satin dress in anticipation of going out to dinner, a woollen skirt, trousers, and jeans to be practical if the weather didn't behave, silk, cotton and woollen tops, boots and shoes with low and high heels. I know what you are thinking – that is a ridiculously large amount of clothing to take for a weekend, but when you are young you do these things. Fortunately, the suitcase had wheels or I would never have managed to transport it.

My make-up, hairbrush, etc would go into a separate mini-case, but I'd need them on Friday morning before going to the theatre. I packed and unpacked several times, switching various items before I was finally satisfied. One of the problems in Wales is the unreliable weather; you really have to allow for everything from a heatwave to a blizzard, and all in one weekend!

During the week I decided to spoil myself by buying a beautiful pale pink silk nightie, in anticipation of Reggie and I sharing a bed. I was going to be very disappointed if we didn't!

Reggie had been in touch with Aunt Jane and she was very keen to see us both, so we decided to travel down to Swansea on Friday evening rather than wait until Saturday morning. Reggie was to take his suitcase into work, and I would take mine to the theatre, so that I could take the tube down to Holborn, the nearest station to where he worked. We would then meet up and travel to Paddington Station. The underground railway in London is a wonderful way of getting to where you want to go efficiently and quickly. All the major railway stations have a tube station as well, so you don't have to do any surface travel to reach the one you want.

Reggie had managed to leave work early at about four o'clock, and I was finished with rehearsals by mid-afternoon, so we were able to catch the five o'clock train which reached Swansea just after eight o'clock at night. From there we took a taxi and arrived at his aunt's place at Brymill about twenty minutes later. Her house was a few streets back from the beach. It was dark so not easy to see but it certainly looked much too large for one person to live in.

Reggie paid the taxi driver, we pulled our suitcases up the driveway (being a gentleman Reggie took my heavy one while I pulled his much lighter one) and Reggie rang the doorbell. After a short wait, we heard footsteps and the door opened. Somehow I had imagined Reggie's aunt to be a little old lady, possibly wearing one of those Welsh 'witch's hats', but when she opened the door I realised I couldn't have been more wrong. Aunt Jane was about five foot seven inches tall, slim with red hair, possibly dyed, and wearing a very stylish red dress.

“Reggie!” she exclaimed. “ And this must be Harriet. It's so nice to meet you. Please come in.” She kissed us both on the cheek.

Here was a second surprise, she only had the faintest trace of a Welsh accent.

She led the way down a hall to a comfortable sitting room, and we sat on a well-upholstered couch.

“How was your journey?” After confirming that it had been uneventful, she asked if we had eaten, and after hearing that we'd just had a sandwich and a cup of tea on the train, we were offered a portion of a casserole she had been making that afternoon. Being two young people with healthy appetites, of course we accepted the offer.

“But first I'd better show you to your room so that you can settle in,” said Aunt Jane.

We followed her to the foot of the stairs and she suggested that Reggie bring up the suitcases while she and I went ahead. Reaching the top of the stairs, we walked down a short corridor and she pointed out the door to the bathroom, and then two doors further on she led me into the room she had selected for us. The first thing I noticed was a large double bed. Aunt Jane was obviously a thoroughly modern woman and fully expected Reggie and I would not be requiring separate beds. I suspect I blushed slightly. Reggie arrived with the first of the suitcases.

“Oh this is nice,” he said.

“Yes, it's lovely Mrs Walpole,” I said.

“Oh please, call me Jane, or Aunt Jane if you prefer,” she said, “Mrs Walpole is far too formal.”

The room was bright and airy, with two large wardrobes and a dressing-table and chair – essential furniture for a female guest of course, plus two easy chairs, in addition to the afore-mentioned bed.

Reggie went back for my suitcase and Aunt Jane said, “I'll give you time to unpack and call when dinner is ready.”

With the two suitcases lying on either side of the bed, we proceeded to unpack. I think Reggie's eyes widened when he saw how much clothing I had brought along.

“Well we don't know what the weather will be like, and I don't know where we might be going, so I've packed for all possibilities,” I said in justification.

The dressing table had three drawers, so I claimed the top two and Reggie was given the bottom one to store his socks underpants and singlets. Perhaps not surprisingly, my lingerie and tops seemed to occupy most of the other two drawers.

I hung up my dresses, skirts and trousers, while Reggie hung up his clothes in half the time.

Just then Aunt Jane called up the stairs to say dinner was ready, so our next move was into the kitchen, where Reggie had a large portion and I had a rather smaller one of the delicious casserole, followed by apple pie and ice cream. We then retired to the lounge with cups of coffee.

“Reggie tells me you are an actress,” said Aunt Jane.

“Like my sister, only she always wanted to be one, and I sort of fell into it by accident,” I replied, and went on to relate the story of Mary and her appendicitis.

“But you're now performing in London in a new production. Surely that wasn't an accident?”

I felt myself blushing. “Well no, it seems I did the role well enough to get cast again.”

I felt a bit embarrassed talking about myself and was glad when Aunt Jane diplomatically switched the conversation to asking Reggie how his job was going.

The conversation went on for a while when I suddenly I found myself yawning. I was so embarrassed.

“I'm sorry, I'm not bored, it's just been a long day.”

Aunt Jane nodded and smiled. “That's alright. Perhaps you'd like an early night? How about you Reggie?”

“Yes, it's been a long day for me too and I'd really like to show Harriet around Swansea tomorrow, so maybe an early night is in order.”

I suspected that Aunt Jane thought we had ulterior motives for retiring when it was only ten o'clock, but in fact, we really were both tired. When we went up to the bedroom, it was strange but we both felt a little shy, so we took it in turns to go to the bathroom and change into our night attire. Reggie wore pyjamas and I decided to keep my new glamorous nightie for the following night, and instead wore a cotton one. We must have been asleep within five minutes of getting into bed, despite the novelty of sleeping the night with each other.

The next morning I awoke first and for a moment stared at the ceiling and wondered where I was. Then I heard the sound of someone else breathing and turning, saw Reggie's head on the pillow beside me. He looked so handsome, and yet so vulnerable lying there, that I just lay there gazing at him and wondering why I had been so lucky. Eventually, he stirred and opened his eyes.

“Hello.”

“Hello yourself.”

“Come here,” he said, and I didn't need a second invitation. We cuddled for a few minutes and I said: “I can't believe I'm really here in bed with you.”

I glanced at my watch on the bedside table.

“Good heavens, it's already eight-thirty, we must have been tired,” I said. “We'd better get up or your aunt will think we intend to stay in bed all day.”

Reggie grinned “That sounds like a great idea to me.”

I giggled and hit him with my pillow. “Come on Romeo, who's for first shower?”

It turned out it was Reggie, and as soon as he was finished, I dived in while he dressed, determined that we would not be too late going down for breakfast. I looked out of the window and it seemed like a nice sunny day, although it was bound to be chilly, so after my bra and panties, I dressed in my silk camisole under a woollen top, my woollen tartan skirt with opaque black tights to keep my legs warm, and boots in case it rained later, something for which Wales is renown. I quickly did my make-up and combed my hair, and then went downstairs to the kitchen.

Aunt Jane was busy cooking breakfast with bacon, eggs, tomato, sausage, and plenty of toast. To show we were no longer in England, Aunt Jane had also included laverbread, a delicacy made from a type of seaweed coated in oatmeal and fried. It was the first time I had tasted it and it was surprisingly palatable.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

“Yes, the bed was very comfortable,” I replied.

“We slept like logs,” said Reggie. I don't know if she believed us, but it was true.

The great thing about a breakfast like that is that it gives you enough calories to keep you going for most of the day.

“What would you like to do today?” said Aunt Jane. “The weather looks quite nice.”

“We were wondering if you'd like to come with us while I show Harriet Swansea and the Gower? She's never been here before,” said Reggie.

“That's very kind of you, but I wonder if you young things mightn't enjoy yourselves more if just the two of you go? Then when you come back we can all go into Swansea for dinner. I'd be happy to lend you my car if you like?”

“Really?” said Reggie, a look of surprise on his face which I didn't understand.

“Of course. It's fully insured," she said this with a smile. "I'll pack you a picnic hamper and a thermos if you like.”

So about 15 minutes later, Reggie and I were standing in front of the garage door.

“This is special,” he said as he pressed the remote for the door. It slowly swung upwards and he was right. The first thing that caught my eye, gleaming in the sunlight was the pouncing feline mounted on top of the radiator.

“A Mark 2 Jaguar!” I gasped.

Reggie grinned. “I'm impressed,” he said. “Not many girls would know that.”

I punched his arm playfully. “You'd be surprised what girls know,” I replied. “But how did it come to be here?”

“Aunt Jane's husband Reg, after whom I'm named incidentally, was a mad keen car buff, and this was his favourite car. He also had a Mark VIII Jag, and he was driving it back from a Concours d'Elegance about ten years ago when a lorry crossed onto the wrong side of the road and hit him head-on. He was killed instantly. The lorry driver was only shocked. It's probable he went to sleep at the wheel. Aunt Jane doesn't drive this car much but she keeps it in memory of Uncle Reg."

“And she doesn't mind you driving it?” I said, still in awe of the gleaming beast before me.

“Well you heard what she said.”

We parked the picnic hamper in the spacious boot, Reggie opened the door for me and I sank into the softest leather I've ever encountered. Reggie got in too and turned on the ignition. The sound of the engine starting was like a purring noise, and we glided forward, just stopping to close the garage door.

Reggie drove down the street and a minute later we were turning right onto the Mumbles Road, heading west.

“We'll look at the Mumbles and visit Gower first and head back to Swansea,” said Reggie.

I gazed at the sparkling waters of Swansea Bay as we drove along.

“This would be a great place to have a railway,” said Reggie.

“Oh yes! I wonder no-one thought of it,” I replied.

“Well they did, back in eighteen hundred and seven. It was the first passenger-carrying railway in the world.”

“That's amazing, but why isn't it there now? What happened to it?”

“The South Wales Transport bus company happened to it,” replied Reggie grimly. “They bought it and they closed it down.”

“What a shame, and so short-sighted. It would be a wonderful tourist attraction, and so useful for commuters travelling to Swansea for work.”

“You don't have to convince me or anyone else who lives here. From time to time there have been moves to open it again but nothing has happened so far. Still, we can live in hope.”

By now we were entering the Mumbles, and I could see the pier and the lifeboat station up ahead. We drove through the narrow streets and beyond the shopping centre, the road climbed up to a car park which gave us a great view of the bay and the lighthouse on the outermost of the rock outcrops which Reggie informed me were the actual Mumbles.

After admiring the view, we headed west along the coast road but this isn't a travelogue so I should confine myself by saying that the scenery was magnificent. Reggie told me that in 1956, the Gower Peninsula was the first place in the U.K., to be designated an 'Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty'. The road was winding and narrow with high hedges or stone walls on either side and I was impressed by how confident Reggie was in driving along it. In places cars coming towards us just barely squeezed by and I was worried that the Jaguar would get scratched, but we made the journey without incident. Here and there we stopped to admire the views, and at one point drove down to Caswell Bay and had a walk on the sand. A paddle would have been nice, but it was still far too cold.

Suddenly Reggie pointed to a sign ahead which read 'Southgate' and said we were nearly at a place he wanted to show me. A little further along he turned into a road called most appropriately 'Sandy Lane' which lead to a small settlement of houses next to a golf course. He found somewhere to park and then said “I'll get our picnic hamper now, and we're going for a short walk.”

To be continued.

I would like to acknowledge the assistance of Louise Anne in proofreading the text and giving me a great deal of useful advice about modern-day Britain to incorporate in the story.