herself cleaning the flat one day, working in the shop the next, and looking after the baby once Iâm satisfied heâs happy with her.â
âI think youâll find her only too glad to do anything that will enable her to stay close to her sisters.â
âYouâre determined to keep the others?â
âYes. I saw the matron in the Central Homes before I came here. Sheâs agreed to take Liza on as a ward maid in maternity, so thereâs really only the two younger ones. And Iâve already made an appointment to see the Parish Guardians to ask if they can stay with me, at least until the end of the war.â
âIâd be happy to pay half their keep.â
âI can manage.â
âI know you can, but if we take joint responsibility for them, then itâs the two of us against the old bag. Given the respectability of Andrewâs surname and the money the shops are bringing in, the parish can hardly object to our keeping the Clark girls, no matter what Mrs Llewellyn-Jones says. We could even go for formal adoption.â
âThe war wonât last for ever and things are bound to change when the men come home. They may not be happy at us taking on a family of orphaned girls.â
âI know Charlie wonât mind. Will Andrew?â
âAs Iâve already gone ahead and done it, heâs got little choice in the matter.â
âYou can always blame it on Mrs Llewellyn-Jones. After all, she billeted the Clark girls on you in the first place.â Alma reached for the teapot. âWant a refill?â
âMuch as Iâd like to, if I donât start my rounds I wonât finish before midnight.â Bethan rose from her chair. âSee you on Sunday?â
âUnless I get a better offer.â
âFrom an American?â Bethan joked.
Alma looked to her son again. âA homecoming,â she said softly, so softly Bethan couldnât be quite sure sheâd heard her correctly.
âThank you for sending me to the police station, maâam. They were most helpful.â Kurt Schaffer smiled at Tina as he stood before the counter of Ronconiâs café.
âI thought they would be. What can I get you?â
âCoffee would be good.â Slipping his hand into his pocket he pulled out a notebook. âI was hoping to find the other ladies here.â
âThey work, like everyone else around here.â Tina filled a cup and slammed it down in front of him. âThatâll be sixpence.â
He took half a crown from his pocket and handed it to her.
âAny chance of cream or sugar?â
âCream exists only in the imagination and memory. You can have milk, but I warn you now, itâs household.â
âPowdered?â
âWhat else?â She poured a little â a very little â into his cup. âAnd sugarâs rationed. Havenât you heard thereâs a war on?â
âI could pay extra.â
âIâve heard that you Yanks are rich.â
âWeâre well paid.â
âOverpaid compared to the British Tommy, but money canât buy everything in this country, especially extra rations in this café.â
Still hoping to circumvent her hostility he gave up on the sugar and flashed her his most charming smile. âItâs official, weâre staying in Pontypridd.â
âWhoâs we?â
âMe and a few fellow Americans. Colonel Ford thought we should mark our arrival by throwing a party for the natives. A sort of âgetting to know youâ affair. I was hoping for some friendly advice.â
âYouâd be better off asking someone who has time to spare for parties.â
âI was hoping youâd come, maâam.â
âIâll be busy.â
âYou donât even know when it is.â
âI run this place.â
âEvery night?â He lifted a sceptical eyebrow.
âEvery day and