Western Mail

MORNING SERIAL

- Farewell Innocence by William Glynne-Jones

“MILLIE, please ….” His father motioned her back to the bedroom.

“The boy’s been out for a walk. Leave it at that. He’s home now, that’s all that matters. Come on, let’s go to bed.” He ruffled Ieuan’s hair. “Good night, boy. Don’t be too long. You’ve got to get up early tomorrow.”

“Good night, Dad.” He stood up and faced his mother.

“I’m sorry, Mam. I didn’t mean to keep you up. I’d have come home earlier if I’d known.”

His father smiled. “We’ll have to buy you a watch, Ieuan. Time you had one, especially—” “That’s enough, Dick.”

Mrs. Morgan ushered him before her. Over her shoulder she called: “Your supper’s in the oven. Don’t blame me if it’s cold.”

Disquiet settled on Ieuan that night. His mother’s attitude angered him. Why should she still persist in treating him as though he were a child? Her threat to find out whom he had been with was spiteful and petty. He was seventeen, and old enough to take care of himself. Did she have the right to decide what company he should keep? Sally was a good girl. She was not to be compared with the rowdy, strident-voiced girls who habitually paraded the main streets in their flashy clothes and tawdry jewellery.

She was quiet, refined. Would he have chosen anyone less gentle than she? What if mam did discover that he had been with her at the park? What if someone told her they had been seen together in the lane? He would tell her truthfully and without fear that he liked Sally. Yes — and that he intended keeping company with her. What right had mam to interfere, anyway? He was not a little boy any more.

Steeped in this mood he met Frank on the way in to the foundry.

“Morning, Ieuan!” came Frank’s cheerful greeting. “Where’ve you been keeping lately?” Ieuan sank his hands into his pockets.

“Hallo, Frank.” “Hey, hey-come on, snap out of it, boy. Down in the dumps, I see. What’s up?”

“It’s nothing, Frank. Nothing to worry about.”

“Seems to me you’ve got plenty on your mind, Ieuan. Listen, boy, when are you coming over to see us? Doris is still waiting for you to call, you know.”

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