Goodbye to Dreams by Grace Thompson

make his presence known. Ada was alone in the shop; Cecily was in the back kitchen with Van, preparing their meal for when they closed the shop.
    Ada was startled to see him. She had been thinking about him, wondering how he felt at the date with Cecily being so dramatically cancelled, and whether he might now change his mind and invite her to Cardiff instead. She was remembering how well she fitted into his arms when they danced and suddenly seeing him was as if he had materialized out of her dream.
    She bent down to hide her blushes, pretending to rearrange some slabs of soap under the counter. He didn’t speak or repeat his cough but stood patiently waiting for her to reappear. She stood up when she was in control and asked brightly, ‘Gareth. What can we do for you?’ Both girls used the ‘we’. Everything they did was a shared responsibility and when either spoke it was as one of the co-ordinated pair. ‘We haven’t seen you for ages. Been ill, have you?’
    ‘No, no, not ill, though Mam hasn’t been strong this winter. No, no. It’s busy I’ve been. The business, you know.’
    He always referred to the barber’s shop as ‘the business’, giving it an air of importance it didn’t deserve, being a small one-chair establishment. It wasn’t even a complete shop but a rented half, owned by the man who kept the other half, which was a tobacconist called The Wedge, owing to its oddly shaped front.
    ‘We thought to see you at Dadda’s funeral,’ Ada couldn’t help saying.
    ‘No, no. I couldn’t shut the business, see. As Mam pointed out to me, let people down and they’ll go somewhere else so fast, before you know it there’s no business left. Got to be careful in times like these you have. I know you and Cecily would understand, you being seen laughing on the way to the beach only the day after your father’s funeral, God rest him.’
    ‘Who told you we went to the beach?’ Ada asked with a frown.
    ‘Mam happened to see you as she was coming out of a flower shop. Loves flowers, Mam does.’
    Cecily came in, wiping her floury hands on her apron. ‘She’d have loved the funeral then, Gareth. Plenty of flowers there.’ Gareth began to splutter a reply but Cecily went on with a laugh, ‘Thought you’d moved and not told us, didn’t we, Ada?’
    ‘No, no, couldn’t do that.’ Gulping in embarrassment, he explained that he wanted some apples for his mother. His eyes followed Ada as she went to the window display and put some apples in a brown bag. ‘I’ll call again when you aren’t too busy,’ he said, handing them the money. ‘Pity you won’t be coming to the dances for a while.’
    ‘Respect for Dadda,’ Ada said solemnly.
    ‘No, no, I was thinking you’ve got no one to mind Myfanwy.’ He swallowed nervously. ‘That too, of course.’
    ‘Why, are you offering, Gareth?’ Cecily smiled brightly.
    ‘I wouldn’t be able to dance with you then, would I?’
    ‘Well, Happy Christmas, in case we don’t see you before then.’ Cecily leaned on the counter, offering a glimpse of the swell of her breasts. He swallowed again and hurriedly said good night.
    ‘Cecily,’ Ada scolded with a grin. ‘You’ll ruin his sleep!’
    ‘Honestly, you’d never believe he invited me out just weeks ago!’
    ‘That mother of his has put in a word no doubt. Warned him about two predatory females.’
    ‘You could be right, about us being predatory females,’ Cecily said thoughtfully. ‘We’ve had a few strange remarks since Dadda died. We’re getting a reputation for being women ready to pounce on the first unsuspecting male to come near us. Dangerous, that’s what we’ve become, Ada. Dangerous women.’
    ‘There’s lovely.’ Ada’s grey eyes glistened with held back laughter. ‘Put it on my tombstone. Ada Owen was a dangerous woman!’
    Gareth’s visits to the shop became regular but not frequent. He called once a week to buy fruit. He was still attracted to the vivacious Cecily but it