Heartbreak in the Valleys

by Francesca Capaldi

  Idris jumped up. ‘I’ll help you, Mam.’

  ‘A good lad you’ve got there,’ said Enid. She displayed no bitterness at what had occurred with regards the engagement. She had said at the time, sometimes things are just not meant to be. It had served as no comfort to Anwen.

  ‘And you’ve got a great girl.’ Isaiah smiled sadly at Anwen, giving her the impression he regretted her loss to his family.

  Everyone fell silent for a while until Enid said, ‘Isaiah, would you be kind enough to get the photo album down from the bookshelf?’

  ‘Of course.’ He heaved his body up with some difficulty. He was older than Meg and this showed in his stiff limbs. How he still managed in the mine, Anwen wasn’t sure.

  The bookcase – an old mahogany piece her mother had acquired from a neighbour who’d moved away – held no books. It contained instead odd pieces of china, a wooden musical box and two dolls that had belonged to Anwen and Sara as children. The photo album contained a few official photographs that they’d had taken with a local photographer, along with older, faded photos from the generation before.

  Meg and Idris returned with two teapots, placing them with the cups and jugs on the table.

  Idris faced the room, saying haltingly, ‘I’ll be getting back and leaving you to it. I’m truly sorry about Sara. Truly sorry about everything.’ He left the room.

  ‘He’s not been hisself since he was discharged,’ Meg said, as if by way of explanation. ‘Let’s all have a drink and look at your album, Enid.’

  The rest of the group gathered around the chaise longue. Anwen gratefully took the tea offered her by Meg, but remained in her seat by the fire, staring into the flames.

  * * *

  Idris followed his mother into the Rhys’s kitchen, glad for a reason to escape the close proximity to Anwen. It was killing him inside, not being able to put a loving arm around her in her distress.

  He heard Enid’s words, ‘A good lad you’ve got there,’ fade as he moved away from the door. He didn’t deserve her good opinion, especially as she had no idea why he’d broken up with her daughter.

  If only he could think of a way to make it up to her. Perhaps give her some of the money he’d saved for their future? Maybe he’d leave it until a time she might be most in need of it.

  ‘I’ll fetch the two teapots down and you get the tea from the larder,’ said Meg.

  He did as he was told, all the time wishing he could escape. What use was he here, if he couldn’t be a comfort to his beautiful Anwen? No, not his Anwen anymore. That was his own doing, but the reality of it was agony, nonetheless.

  When Meg had filled the teapots up and put the woollen cosies on, they carried one each back to the front room. Those there were gathered around Enid, looking at a photo album. There was a snap in there of him and Anwen, taken by a photographer at Barry Island, the day before war was declared. He didn’t want to see it.

  He hesitated before saying, ‘I’ll be getting back and leaving you to it. I’m truly sorry about Sara. Truly sorry about everything.’

  Out in the street the icy rain of yesterday had returned. Where could he go? It was one of those rare occasions he felt like going for a pint, to drown his sorrows. The McKenzie Arms wasn’t open this time of day anymore, which would probably save him from a sore head and a shaft-load of regret.

  He turned onto Bryn Road, heading towards the pit. His head was already swimming with the torment of the choice he’d made. Life without Anwen. Or rather, life with her always there on the edge, struggling with her family, and he unable to do a thing. And maybe, one day, she’d be happy with a new love.

  The tears sprang from his eyes before he had time to stall them. He blessed the rain for disguising them, although there was no one else around. He couldn’t go home in this state and upset Jenkin. He took a left onto James Street. A good long walk, past the Big House and into the forest, that’s what he needed. A forest that he and Anwen had loved to visit. But everywhere was filled with her. He’d have to live with that.

  Chapter Eleven

  The service at chapel had gone by slowly, the minister’s voice only a remote sound as Anwen’s mind wandered into another realm. The one thing that got her attention in the sermon was the line: ‘In the midst of life we are in death.’ She’d quoted that very line to Sara not two months back. Sara had said she could feel death breathing on her in the night. It was like she’d predicted her own passing. Anwen clutched a fist to her chest, pushing at the chasm left by Sara’s extinction.

  Uncle Hywel tapped her arm and she came to.

  ‘The service is over, fach. Are you staying for a cup of tea?’

  ‘I don’t know if I can.’ It had been only two days since the funeral. Could she stand another half-hour of people’s sombre nods?

  ‘You don’t have to. I’ll walk you home if you like.’

  Home wasn’t a welcoming place, though, either. Mam had developed a cold since the funeral and was asleep most of the day. At least her father would be out, who knew where by now.

  ‘I think maybe I’ll stay. Would you like to come back for some dinner? It won’t be much, just stew left over from what Cadi made yesterday, before she left.’

  Da had made it clear that his mother had served her purpose and it was time for her to ‘bugger off back to Abergavenny’. What he didn’t know was that she was returning permanently with all her things, by the end of the week. How that would go down with her father time would tell. The possibility filled her with optimism, that’s all she knew.

  ‘That’s kind, but Violet is cooking me dinner. I’m paying for meals, you see.’

  Disappointment weighed heavily on Anwen. ‘I wish Da had agreed to you lodging with us.’

  ‘You know I’m always there when you need me.’

  They wove through the chatting congregation. Just before they reached the door to the smaller room, the minister’s wife, Mrs Richards, waylaid her. Hywel carried on.

  ‘I’m so sorry to hear about Sara. I would have called in but have had many people to visit. How sad it is for you to have such a reduced family group here in the chapel. I see your grandmother is not present either.’

  ‘She’s gone back to Abergavenny.’

  ‘Slowly you have dwindled and now there are only—’

  ‘Anwen, I am glad to see you here.’ Elizabeth came up next to them. ‘Could I speak to you alone, please? That is, if Mrs Richards has finished with you?’

  ‘Well, yes, of course Miss Meredith.’ Mrs Richards took her leave of them.

  ‘My goodness, she’s not much good at comforting the bereaved, is she?’ said Elizabeth. ‘How upsetting for you.’

  ‘Thank you for rescuing me.’

  ‘I would genuinely like to talk to you. We were wondering, my family… oh goodness, is this too soon?’

  ‘What might be too soon?’

  ‘Would you be able to take up the position of housemaid? In your own time, of course.’

  ‘I – I don’t know.’ It hadn’t even occurred to her that the position would still be open. ‘Thank you for offering it to me, but I will need to think about it.’

  ‘Of course. Let’s get some tea.’

  Having collected their cups, they fell into conversation with Gwen and Violet, little Clarice clinging to her mother’s legs as Violet rocked Benjamin. Anwen’s two friends seemed a little nervous talking to the manager’s daughter at first, but soon relaxed as Elizabeth chatted in Welsh to them.

  ‘I heard recently that there are two million more women being employed in Britain now than last year,’ said Elizabeth.

  ‘That many?’ said Gwen. ‘That’s wonderful to hear. I’ve been working in the munitions at Ebbw Vale for the last year and there are a few of us there, I can tell you.’

  Elizabeth asked Gwen questions about the factory, listening with rapt concentration to the answers, while Anwen considered Elizabeth’s job offer. Her father had made no fuss, so far, about her lack of wages. He almost certainly woul
d soon. Even if he didn’t, did she want to spend all day in the house, even if it was a full time job in itself?

  No. And if Cadi did come back, her father might be more inclined to accept her staying if Anwen was earning and out all day.

  They’d finished talking about munitions and Elizabeth had moved on to admiring baby Benjamin when Anwen said, ‘Yes please.’

  ‘Yes please to what?’ said Gwen.

  ‘To the job at McKenzie House.’

  ‘I’m so glad.’ Elizabeth was smiling.

  ‘That will be good for you,’ said Violet. ‘Get you out and about. Well, I need to get these two littl’uns home for their dinner.’

  ‘And I need to find my parents. They’ll both be chatting nineteen to the dozen with people,’ said Gwen.

  The two women drifted away.

  ‘When would you prefer to start?’ asked Elizabeth.

  ‘I will have to wait for Mamgu to get back, as my mother needs someone there to help her, particularly now she’s so downhearted after Sara’s passing. Hopefully by the end of the week.’

  ‘Come to the house and let us know when would be best for you. I should get away too. Are you staying?’

  ‘I will come too, but I must tell Uncle Hywel first.’

  Anwen slipped sideways past several groups, excusing herself, until she spotted Hywel. Now she had a new purpose in life, returning home was less daunting. She could tell Mam her news, then make sure she had clean clothes for the job.

  ‘Uncle, I’m going now.’

  ‘All right, fach. I’ll call round tomorrow after my shift, see if you need anything.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She kissed his cheek and left.

  Outside the front door of the chapel, a smart figure was waiting on the steps. It was Tom Meredith in a stylish, knee-length coat and Derby hat.

  ‘How fortunate am I,’ he said, spotting Anwen leaving with Elizabeth. ‘I’ve come to accompany my sister home, and I’m lucky enough to be able to escort another young lady also.’ He bowed slightly.

  ‘I’m going in the opposite direction, Mr Meredith, up to Edward Street, so you don’t have to worry about me.’

  ‘How disappointing. So, what is the verdict?’

  ‘Verdict? Sorry, sir, I don’t understand.’

  ‘He means, have you agreed to take the position of housemaid,’ said Elizabeth. ‘And the answer is yes, Tom. Though I believe Miss Rhys has more pressing matters at this moment in time?’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course.’ The smile evaporated. ‘I was so very sorry to hear of Sara’s passing.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Good day to you, Miss Rhys.’ Tom lifted the hat briefly. ‘I look forward to seeing you when you begin the job.’

  ‘Thank you once again, sir.’

  She and Elizabeth exchanged farewells. Nothing could replace Sara, but at least now she had a reason for getting up in the mornings.

  * * *

  Anwen had finished the morning’s cleaning, though it took longer than it might have done had there been a maid in attendance the last month. A half-hearted attempt had been made to keep things clean and tidy, but the dusting and polishing had clearly been inadequate. Elizabeth had told her that the cook, Rose, had filled in the best she could.

  In the kitchen now for her half-hour dinner break, Anwen was faced with the cook. Her curly blonde hair was pulled into a bun on which was perched a starched cap, the odd coil of hair escaping round her ears. She was grim-faced, fists on hips, glaring at her. ‘I hope you don’t think you’re having dinner now. It’s gone two. I’ve put it all away.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Rose, but I had to do the cleaning for longer than normal, to catch up with things.’

  ‘It’s not my fault if you’re a bit slow. No better than that sister of yours. You can thank Miss Elizabeth for speaking up for her that she stayed as long as she did.’

  Anwen was taken aback. ‘My sister died on Christmas Day.’

  ‘I heard. Sorry about that.’

  ‘And I’ve been slow because things have been neglected.’ This girl had no authority over her and she wasn’t going to be blamed for things that weren’t her fault.

  Rose puckered her lips. ‘Are you suggesting I wasn’t up to the job?’

  ‘I’m sure you would have been if you hadn’t already had so much to do.’ She’d better make some concession otherwise she’d never get her dinner.

  ‘I have: like doing dinner after it’s over.’

  ‘Rose, would you be so kind as to fetch Anwen some lunch.’ Elizabeth was in the doorway, standing tall. ‘There’s plenty of chicken, vegetables and potatoes left over. I’m sure it will warm up in no time over a saucepan of boiling water. She’s worked very hard this morning trying to catch up with things.’

  ‘Yes Miss, of course, Miss.’ Rose curtsied then hurried to the pantry.

  Where were families of the Merediths’ class getting plenty of food when it wasn’t available in the shops? Under the counter, maybe, for greatly inflated prices. A little voice in her brain said, It isn’t fair. She waved the thought away. Even if the Merediths had shared their extra food around the village, it wouldn’t have gone far.

  ‘How are you finding things?’ Elizabeth came further into the kitchen.

  ‘Fine, Miss Meredith. It’s all very straightforward.’

  ‘It’s all looking so much better. Thank you. Now, after lunch you can change into the uniform provided for you. My mother would like you to run some errands for her in the village. I believe my brother also has an errand for you while you’re there.’

  Tom. A spark of cheer lit a corner of her mind. Such an entertaining and polite young man. ‘Very well, Miss.’ She curtsied, emulating Rose.

  Elizabeth grinned, appearing to be amused by the exchange. ‘Thank you. I will see you later on, no doubt.’ She left the room.

  Rose emerged from the pantry, thumping the leftovers on the table. ’It’s all looking so much better!’ she imitated Elizabeth’s middle-class voice, raising the pitch. ‘Who’s the new pet then? It was bad enough when that soppy Jenny was around. And I hear you’ve been seen out with Miss Meredith. Stepping over the boundary, that is.’

  ‘Miss Meredith was kind enough to visit my sister when she was ill, and attend the funeral. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?’

  Rose opened her mouth in shock. ‘Nothing wrong with it? Are you cracked? They are them and we are us. You should keep in your place.’

  Anwen wanted to say that maybe Elizabeth should keep in her place then, but she couldn’t be bothered to argue with Rose.

  ‘Suppose I’d better get this lunch ready. If you want a cuppa tea you can get it yourself.’ She pointed at the stove.

  Anwen picked up the kettle, taking it to the scullery to fill it up. She certainly did need it, but she’d be glad when dinner was over and she could get back to her duties.

  * * *

  The grandmother clock struck six in the hall of McKenzie House. Anwen had just been dismissed by Mrs Meredith after her first, long day. She returned to the kitchen to change from the uniform and retrieve her coat and hat from the servants’ hatstand. Rose was at the table, chopping carrots.

  ‘Off home, are you?’

  No doubt Rose would be resentful about that as well, but she could be pleasant even if the cook couldn’t. ‘That’s right.’

  ‘I’ve got another hour. Make dinner, serve it. Home. Can’t say I’ll be sorry today. My feet are killing me.’

  There was no awkward attitude in her voice. Anwen could have been listening to Mam or Violet. ‘Do you live in the village?’

  ‘Mafeking Terrace. Moved in there with Mam and Da four year back. We were up at Merthyr before then. I was under cook to a family there. They had more functions and bigger ones, but it was easier because there was more staff, though that was before the war. Could do with an under cook myself.’

  Anwen wondered how cooking three meals a day for just one family could be so hard, but she guessed R
ose had other duties that under other circumstances might have been given to a scullery maid.

  ‘I can see that would be useful.’

  Rose stopped chopping and regarded Anwen. ‘Sorry about earlier. I like to keep things tidy and do things in order. The Merediths do put upon me sometimes. You’ll find that yourself, no doubt.’

  Anwen’s sympathy went out to her. She’d heard before of middle class families taking advantage of the staff. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Rose. Have a good evening.’

  ‘Thank you. And you.’

  Anwen left through the scullery door, as she’d been instructed by Mrs Meredith. Outside the air was frosty. The sky was lit by a full moon, still fairly low in the sky behind McKenzie House. She’d left home in the dark and she’d return in the dark. This would be her fate until winter transformed itself into spring and the light stretched into the evening.

  It was twenty-five past six by the time she got in, remembering with relief that Mamgu was coming back today.

  She called, ‘Hello?’ in the hall as she removed her coat. The only reply was a faint one from upstairs. Mam.

  Pushing open her mother’s bedroom door she saw her sitting up in bed, a blanket round her shoulders as she read the Monmouth Guardian. Enid put the paper down, her face brightening only a little from the melancholic expression that had tainted her face since Sara’s loss. ‘Cariad, how was your first day at the Big House?’

  ‘It was fine. Hard work, but warm and not too dirty at least.’

  ‘I am so glad that you were able to take that job on. I know it was too much for my poor Sara.’

  Guilt stole over Anwen like a plague, threatening to annihilate her.

  ‘Don’t look like that, cariad. This world was too much for her… Would you help me with the pot, please? I’ve been bursting to go for hours.’

  ‘Has Mamgu not arrived yet?’

  ‘She came this morning, got me some dinner and this paper. Meg came and went. Then I heard some kind of argument between Mamgu and your father when he got in. She came up to see if I needed anything, then said she’d be back later. She’s so kind to up sticks to help us out.’