Such Sweet Sorrow by Catrin Collier Page B

well, happy and smiling, which was how I wanted her to be. Stupid, really.’
    ‘That’s not stupid. When Will and I were small and my mother used to cry because my father wasn’t there, we made up a story about him. That he hadn’t been killed at all, but he’d lost his memory and when he remembered who he was he’d come back. One night my mother overheard us talking. The following morning she explained that his body had been accounted for and buried. That there was no hope, that all we had of our father, all we’d ever have, was his photograph. You were lucky.’ She peeled back the newspaper on her parcel of fish and chips. ‘At least you can remember your mother.’
    ‘Only to miss her all the more when she had gone.’
    ‘Mam says you can’t build your life around what might have been, just get on with what you’ve got.’
    ‘She’s right.’
    ‘Right, maybe, but it’s damned hard sometimes.’
    Knowing she was regretting the loss of Tony, he put his hand over hers. ‘I think I know how you feel.’
    ‘How can you?’ she burst out angrily. ‘I loved Tony. I’ll always love him, and now there’s nothing left. I can’t even dream about meeting someone else. Even if I could find a man who’d forgive me for what Ben Springer did, no man would want a woman who couldn’t stand him near her. And I can’t … I really can’t bear the thought of a man coming near me ever again …’
    Abandoning his fish and chips on the bench seat, he held her in his arms. Her chips had tumbled on to the seat between them; he could feel warm, sticky grease oozing through his trousers. ‘I know what it is to love someone and lose them, Diana. And I couldn’t even go to his funeral.’
    It was the first time Wyn had ever mentioned his private life to her. Struggling to regain control of her emotions, she drew the back of her hand across her eyes, wiping away her tears.
    ‘You remember the boy who gassed himself over in Pwllgwaun a month ago?’
    ‘It said in the Observer that he was depressed at being out of work.’
    ‘His father’s on the council, so they didn’t print the truth. The police caught him.’
    ‘Caught him?’
    ‘With another man.’
    She sat back, not knowing what to say. Although she was aware of the names Wyn was called, she had never really considered what being ‘a queer’ meant. In a few words he had painted a picture of his personal life which shocked her to the core. Not the fact that he had loved, or could love, another man, but the persecution that would follow if anyone in authority found out.
    ‘You really … loved him?’ It seemed odd to use the word in conjunction with two men.
    ‘I loved him,’ he reiterated bitterly. ‘Not that it did either of us any good.’
    ‘But you said he was with another man. If he loved you, why was he with someone else?’
    ‘It’s not as easy for us as it is for you. You meet a boy, you start courting, you go for walks in the park, sit side by side in the pictures, go to a café and no one will bat an eyelid. We have to sneak around in the hope that no one will notice us. The police stopped my van a couple of times when he was in it. They told his father, and he warned him to stay away from me. He threatened that if he didn’t, he’d make sure the police picked both of us up. That we’d be dragged through the courts. The last thing either of us could afford to risk was a prison sentence. Apart from what the scandal would do to our families, they don’t treat our kind very well behind bars.’
    ‘I didn’t realise, Wyn. I’m sorry …’
    ‘So am I. You’ve managed to spread your fish and chips all over me, and I can’t even see to scrape it up.’
    ‘You’ve got a torch?’
    ‘Front pocket. Make sure you hold the tissue paper over the lens.’
    It took five minutes to return all of Diana’s fish and chips to the newspaper. She used the time to regain control of her emotions. Wyn had made her realise just how selfish she was