Once upon a town

Once upon a town

1963 was an interesting year. John F. Kennedy had just been assassinated, the civil rights movement was growing, and Marthin Luther King delivered his famous speech “I have a dream.” The Vietnam War had started and there was a new band called The Beatles.

Jean walked slowly down the main street towards the post office. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and the shop owners were busy putting out the racks with summer frocks and colorful pot plants. She nodded briefly as she passed them.

- God morning, Mrs Bently.

- Lovely day, Mrs Bently.

She was not really in the mood for conversation. There had been so much going on lately with her husband getting the new job in another town. He was tired and the move was playing on his nerves. Work was not easy to find so he had to be happy for what he could get and sometimes working on the railroads only seemed to lead to a dead end. Now he was going to come home one week in the month, and she would have to spend the nights on her own. There was a lot to come to terms with. The problem with living in a small town was that there was never anything to do. Oh well, there was always Sandy across the road. She could pop in for a chat, they could even go to Bingo nights and the country ladies’ monthly meetings. She had to fill her time somehow.

Looking up she saw Sarah, the young woman from the grocery store, crossing the road. She was heading straight for the post office, and she was in a hurry. Jean did not really know her at all, which was unusual as she knew everyone in town. But Sarah was different. She came from the city, and it was obvious she was not interested in the chitter chatter of the locals. On the few times she had spoken with her in the shop she realized they had nothing in common. Jean instinctively did not like her. Who would walk around in high heels and that green tight-fitting dress revealing far too much of a perfect body? And her shiny auburn hair bobbing freely around her shoulders, not like the other young ladies around town. Yes, she could turn a head or two, that was for sure, but this town was not about turning heads. It would only lead to trouble.

Jean almost collided with her as she ran out from the post office. She looked pale and flustered, sweat pearls dripping from her forehead. There was no sign of the green dress today, only a shirt that looked two sizes too big and white baggy slacks.

- God morning Jean. What can I do for you?

The assistant pushed a pile of papers from the desk and leaned forward towards Jean as if she were waiting for a chat.

- Well, you see Darren has this new job in Newport and we must direct his mail to the new address where he will be staying so I will need one of those forms.

The assistant smiled and moved closer.

- So, he has a new job, has he? Well, he’s lucky I must say. Nobody else around here seems to find much work these days. The money will be good then if he is going to do shift work and you’ll get to have some time on your own for a while.

She pushed a form over the counter and Jean glanced at it quickly.

- Yes, the money will be good. We might be able to afford that holiday.

- You are so lucky Jean to have such a good man as Darren. I wish I did.

Jean paused for a minute before she started walking towards the door. She waived the form in her hand.

- Yes, well, I better see to this. Bye for now.

- Bye Jean.

She grabbed the door handle, paused, and looked back at the assistant.

- By the way, what was wrong with our dear miss Sarah today? Why was she in such a hurry?

- Oh dear, I thought you knew.

The assistant leaned further over the counter and Jean could see her eyes lighting up with excitement.

- The poor dear is pregnant.

- What!

Jean stared at her.

- Pregnant! She has only been here for barely four months!

- Well, that is just it you see. She met this bloke, I don’t know who he is, he is an out of towner, and they had a little fling, I believe. 

- A little fling? Well, I do not call that a little fling if you ask me. Not if you come home pregnant! And where is the bloke now?

The assistant looked at Jean. She expected this. She was always the one to judge others, as if she were perfect herself.

- He works in another town. I think she will be leaving here soon. She is starting to show a little, did you notice?

- Of course, I did not notice. Who could see anything under that big shirt and besides, she did not stand still long enough for me to get a good look at her. Oh well, just as well, I never liked her anyway and she did not fit in in this town. City folks, who do they think they are with their fancy clothes and uppity ways. Like we’re not good enough for them. 

- Good day to you!

The bell rang as she closed the door, and she hurried down the steps.

“Fancy the girl was pregnant.” Jean smiled to herself. She would not be welcomed back to this town, which was for sure. Being with child and not married, good riddance to the little tramp. She hurried home, she could not wait to tell Sandy and waited eagerly for her to come home from her work at the butcher's.

Sandy finally arrived pushing the bicycle up the driveway. She looked tired from a long day and was looking forward to sitting in her favorite chair with a glass of brandy. But first she had to cook and clean up the mess from the morning.

- Sandy! Hello busy day…?

“Oh no, not Jean! Not today!”

She tried not to sound unfriendly but surely Jean would have noticed that her smile was forced. But Jean did not notice anything. She was fully occupied, it seemed in her own tiny world. She followed Sandy through the door obviously excited about something.

- Sandy, you will never believe this!

She headed straight for the brandy carafe.

- Do you want one?

She did not wait for Sandy to answer but pored her a glass before sitting down in Sandys favorite chair.

- Puuhhh, I am exhausted! What a day! I can’t believe it! What a day!

- You know that Sarah girl, the one from the “big smoke”? Well, listen to this…….

Sandy had poured herself a big glass of brandy and started to feel the effect of the alcohol. Jean was on a roll now and nothing could stop her. It was like that with Jean, once she started, she was like a runaway train. Usually, the stories were not that interesting, but Sandy kept up a brave face because she did not want to fall out with her. And then there was Darren. He was always polite and nice, not at all a gossiping chatterbox like his wife. She had always had a fond eye for Darren. So did most of the ladies in the town.

- So, what is going to happen now? And what do you think her parents will say? Will they disown her? And who is that dreadful man? Perhaps he just got what he deserved! I wonder if he dumped her?

-Jeeean! Where are you?

The voice came from across the road. Darren was home from work, looking for her.

- I’m here luv, she screamed.

- Better go now. Anyway, now you know! Have a good night, dear.

After taking a deep contented breath she stood up and left.

Hours later when Sandy was getting ready for bed, she looked across the road where the lights were still on. Jean sat in front of the television with a glass in her hand chatting away to Darren who looked like he had fallen asleep in the chair.

“Such an odd couple” Sandy thought.

“The chatterbox and the quiet man.”

It was like that in a small town. John Philips, the quiet lonely eccentric. Abby Smith who spent long hours talking to vegetables.

Then it started, a loud scream.

“Will you shut up woman! Just shut up!’

Darren had woken and appeared aggravated. Sandy quickly pulled down the blind. She did not want to appear nosey. Sound carried well in this small street, and it was usually the bad plumbing that kept people’s attention.

- I just thought you would be interested! That girl had it coming to her parading round like “Lady Muck” You saw it yourself that night at Bernie’s party. Don’t you remember? That was the night you went home with a migraine. Surely you must remember. And I wonder what Bernie got up to?

- Jean, can you just shut up please! I am not in the mood to hear anymore. I don’t care! Don’t you get it?

That was the end of the conversation. The blinds were pulled down and silence returned to the street.

Jean packed Darrens overnight bag with a few essentials. He was going to spend the weekend looking around the new place where his work was to start in a few weeks. The company paid for his accommodation in a flat near work and supplied him with his various needs. She made his favorite sandwiches, cheese and gherkin, salami and onion and made sure the thermos was filled with hot tea. Darren liked his cup of tea, strong, black and no sugar.

They walked to the station on Saturday morning. Darren seemed happy and excited about his new position, and he would be home again on Sunday. She waved as the train pulled out from the platform. This was a new beginning for them, and they could certainly use that extra money.

Bingo at the R.S.L. A large crowd where she shared a table with Sandy and Mrs. Tilby, the grocery store owner. Eventually Jean turned the conversation to Sarah.

Mrs. Tilby did not look surprised and smiled as she ticked another number.

- “Was” working for me. Yes, but no longer.

- What do you mean?

- She left the other night for a new place in a new town. Nobody knows where. Now, what did you want to know about her?

- Oh, nothing really. I was simply curious. You know, she was pregnant and all that.

Mrs. Tilby sighed and leaned back in the chair.

- Ah, that she was. Or is. That poor fellow will have his hands full now.

Jean could not hide her surprise.

- Is he going to marry her? I thought he left her. That’s what I heard.

Mrs. Tilby smiled satisfactorily. Now she had Jeans full attention and she thrived on it.

- Well, it’s not always what you hear that is true Mrs. Bently. He is apparently a decent man who will do the right thing for her. That is all I know.

Jean felt her cheeks blushing. This was not what she had expected. She was already picturing the girl with a baby all by herself in a place where nobody knew or wanted to know her. How could any decent man have fallen for that little bitch?

- Anyway, can we continue with the game now?

The weekend went by quickly. Jean did her washing, cleaning and drank too much brandy as she watched Bobby Limb’s “Sound of Music” on tv. Sunday night and Darren was back again, pleased with what he had seen of the new place. He was looking forward to a change now to move ahead.

- I think there are opportunities if I play my cards right.

- We will be okey, he said softly.

- I am sure everything will work out fine.

Jean got used to her new life and soon became a regular at the bingo nights. She liked it as everyone was nice to her, showing concern about her well-being as they all knew Darren was away at his new job.

When Darren came home on leave, they spent most of the time around the house. He was happy in his new job and liked the quarters. There was not much to do in the evenings except play cards with the boys, but he was usually tired and did not mind the quiet nightlife.

Winter came and Jean felt a longing to break out of the routine. She missed Darren and booked a ticket for the train. She would surprise him, stay a couple of days, and maybe they could go out for dinner. It would be nice.

It was Monday afternoon when she arrived at The Newport Rail and Transport Department. The wind was cold, and damp and she shivered as she walked up the long stairs to the office. A young man working at the desk looked up when she opened the door.

- God afternoon. What can I do for you?

Jean was short of breath after the walk and cleared her throat before she spoke.

- I am looking for Darren Bently, can you please direct me to his quarters.

- Oh, Darren Bently. Well, he does not live in our quarters anymore miss. He has his own place, not far away.

The man fumbled amongst a pile of papers.

- Number 13 Shelford Rd. Shelford.

Jean stared at him.

- I thought he was living here in the railway staff quarters.

- No, no. This is his place. Here I will write it down for you.

The man scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Jean.

- Just hop on the bus around the corner and get off at Shelford, stop 9. It’s easy. You can’t miss it. It is only ten minutes away.

- Good luck misses!

Jean headed towards the stairs. Going down would be easier than going up.

- Who was that lady, Jake?

- I don’t know, think it must be Darrens sister or something. She asked after him.

- Oh, or a girlfriend perhaps.

They both laughed.

The bus pulled up.

- Number 13 luv, there, the place with the red door.

Jean pulled the scarf tight around her head. The wind seemed colder now as it hit her face with a frosty bite. She did not like the darkness and hurried to get to Darrens place. She felt uneasy.

It was a house like all the others; a sad winter garden where the deciduous bushes had lost their leaves and the branches stood ghostlike behind the white picket fence. Pot plants in the windows behind the white lace curtains and a black cat sleeping on a window seal. She was convinced now that this could not be Darrens house, and she paused before knocking on the door. Nervous and aware of the absolute silence around her. A young lady with auburn hair and a baby in a sling across her chest stood before her.

- Yes?

Her eyes moved to the hallway where she saw Darrens shoes and coat. A moment later he appeared wiping his hands on a tea towel, dressed in a green apron.

Jean stood there for how long she could not say, aghast, numbed, and shocked. Turning quickly, she started running down the path out to the street. She kept on running and did not notice she had left her overnight bag on the doorstep. Suddenly she was on the street, wet and slippery and there was the car, and everything went black, and she never felt her head hitting the asphalt.

Sandy starred at the telegram. Tears wallowed in her eyes and the text became blurred.

- I should have told her and this would never have happened!

She sobbed.

- If I only had told her. Everybody knew! The whole town knew, and nobody breathed a word.

- It just goes to show you can keep a secret, even in a small town.