War in the Valleys
Page 18
‘We’re not going to find out standing on the doorstep, are we?’ The doctor opened the front door. ‘I’ll go ahead and prepare the way.’
She walked inside slowly, hearing her mother call, ‘You took your time,’ followed by a panicked, ‘Oh, it’s you, doctor. What’s happened?’
She waited in the hallway as Dr Roberts told her family of the abandonment. He ended with, ‘And so the only decent thing to do was bring the baby here.’
Anwen stepped in the kitchen at this point, looking round at the four shocked faces.
Enid stood up from the armchair near the fire. ‘What! I’m not having that, that illegitimate spawn of my philandering, criminal husband anywhere near me.’ Her voice reached a crescendo as she hollered, ‘You don’t want that baby here, do you, Idris?’
Idris looked at Anwen, eyes wide, before Hywel jumped up, saying, ‘Calm down. Let’s not fly off the handle, eh? We need to sit and talk about this.’
‘What’s to talk about? It’s my house, and I say it’s not staying.’
‘I’ve never been bothered about being man of the house, but if you keep on like this, Enid, I’ll have to take a stand. We’re all adults. We can talk about this and work something out.’
‘You can all talk about it. I’m going to Rachael’s for some civilised company.’
‘Enid!’ Cadi called, as her daughter-in-law grabbed her shawl off the back of the chair and escaped via the scullery.
When the back door had slammed, Dr Roberts shook his head. ‘I didn’t think she’d take it well. What do you want to do?’
Anwen looked over hopefully at Idris sitting at the table, an empty plate and a mug of tea in front of him. ‘I’m sorry, Idris. I should have talked to you first.’
‘It would have been nice to be consulted, aye. However, I don’t like the idea of anyone going into the workhouse, let alone a little scrap of a babby. And she is your sister. Let’s have a peep then.’ He got up and walked over, peering down at the little girl who was moving her lips as if sucking.
Hywel came over next, pulling back the top of the blanket to reveal a little of her hair. ‘She reminds me of Sara as a baby. Has she got a name?’
‘Mrs Williams wasn’t aware that Delyth had named her, so no.’
Cadi was last to inspect the new arrival, pulling herself out of the other armchair. ‘She is like Sara. I understand how Enid feels, for this little one is no blood relation of hers, but she is my grandchild all the same. Can I?’ She held up her arms. Anwen handed the baby over to her.
Dr Roberts undid his bag to remove the bits and pieces his wife had found, including two double-ended, curved glass feeding bottles. ‘If Miss Bryce doesn’t return, there’ll be the matter of registering the baby. I can help you with that. At least you know who the father is.’
‘We don’t know all Delyth’s details though,’ said Anwen.
‘I’ll ask my wife to glean anything she can from Mrs Williams. Miss Bryce was having meals there, so they might have talked. She must be fairly local. In the meantime, you’d better see if you can beg, steal or borrow a crib. Preferably not steal though,’ he chuckled. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow to give her another check-up. I don’t know how long she was left alone, but she doesn’t seem to have come to any harm at least.’
‘I don’t suppose Delyth had been gone long,’ said Idris. ‘Babbies aren’t known for keeping quiet for any length of time.’
‘Talking of which, I dare say she’ll be wanting some milk soon. Do you have any?’
‘We got some fresh from Morgan the Milk this morning,’ said Idris. ‘It’s in a tin bottle under a wooden crate in the back yard.’
‘Make sure you boil it and cool it down till it’s nicely warm. And get some more when Morgan comes back round later. And if you have any evaporated milk in the house, that will do the job too. You know where I am if you need me. And Miss Kelly can help you out too. She’s a certified midwife, not one of those untrained ones, like that old Mrs Kent on Bryn Street.’
‘Thank you for all your help,’ said Anwen.
The doctor smiled and took his leave.
‘It’s a good job we pay subs for our medical care here,’ said Idris. ‘Otherwise getting so much of the doctor’s time could work out expensive.’
Anwen had a sudden thought. ‘Oh Idris, what about your family? We were supposed to be having dinner with them.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Idris, ‘I’ll get Jenkin to help me carry their food over to us, then Mam can come and cook it here. I’m sure she won’t mind when she finds out what’s happened.’
‘Well, I’d say we had our work cut out for us today,’ said Hywel. ‘This is certainly not what I expected on Boxing Day.’ He rolled up his shirt sleeves. ‘Come on then, let’s get on with it.’
Chapter Fourteen
Violet came down to the kitchen New Year’s Day to the sight of her children at the table with toast and jam in front of them. It had to be from the jars Elizabeth had brought round, for she had no other. Olwen had used the crockery service she had carried from her own home as a Christmas present for Violet. It was an old one, having belonged to Olwen’s mother. It wasn’t a pattern or colour Violet would have chosen, but at least there were fewer chips and cracks, and the cups all had saucers.
She yawned widely, having not had a good night’s sleep. Clarice was singing ‘Calon Lân’, in her sweet little voice. As he often did, Benjy tried to join in, only to be told off by his sister. He went back to eating his breakfast, his bottom lip sticking out.
‘You can sing to me later, Benjy,’ Violet said to cheer him up.
He gave her such a cute grin she felt compelled to give him a big hug. She hugged Clarice next, so she didn’t feel left out.
‘You’re late down, my girl,’ said Olwen, striding in from the scullery.
‘It’s barely seven o’clock. I thought, since it’s New Year’s Day—’
‘It’s not a public holiday, you know. If my Charlie were still here, you’d have been up two hours since, getting him ready for work. No excuse for lazing around in bed. And what about the children?’
She wanted to say, but Charlie’s not here to boss me around anymore. And why are you still here? Instead she said, ‘They don’t tend to wake before I do. They play in their bedroom when they do.’
‘You’re getting into bad habits, look you. It’s a good job I’m here to put you straight.’
‘About that, Olwen. Brynmore must be feeling a little lonely now he’s back from his cousins. When were you thinking of going home?’
‘He’s perfectly capable of looking after hisself for a bit, while I’m here. You and the babbies need looking after for a while. You’ve become rather morose and you need to snap out of that, my girl, else they’ll be carting you off to the—’ She looked round at the children, then whispered, ‘Asylum.’
A jolt of shock went through Violet. Why would her mother-in-law say such a thing? ‘I’m not – “morose” – as you put it. I’m mourning my husband.’
‘Are you?’ She plodded back to the scullery.
Violet followed her through. Goodness knows what time Olwen had got up, but it looked like she’d scrubbed it from top to bottom. It was the second time she’d done that since arriving. Was she trying to say something about Violet’s cleanliness? She’d also rearranged the items in the larder, few as they were these days, swapped round items of crockery on the dresser shelves, reorganised her pans in the dresser cupboard and switched the washing tub and mangle with the tin bath. Violet was afraid she’d start with the furniture next, such as it was.
‘I don’t know why you said that, but yes, I am mourning Charlie.’
‘You seemed very cosy with that Hywel Llewellyn on Christmas Day, sitting next to him and gossiping.’
‘I was placed there. Besides, I’ve known Hywel for a long time, him being Anwen’s uncle, see, and then my lodger for a while. There’s no point being unfriendly, especially on the day of the Lord’s birth.�
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‘Does he know that, though? Men only need a little encouragement to do something inappropriate.’
‘Do you always have to see the bad side of people? You were quite rude to Anwen’s family, especially considering they invited you to dinner.’
‘Hm! I didn’t want to go, I’d already made that clear. Forced I was, by Enid going on and on. Is it any wonder she drove her husband into the arms of another woman?’
It was on the tip of Violet’s tongue to say something she knew she’d regret. Better to do something, keep busy. She lifted the teapot from its place on the table. It was light. ‘I’ll make some more tea. You sit and have your breakfast now. And thank you for getting the children theirs.’
‘We’re nearly out of tea. You’ll need to get some from Mrs Brace later, when you go and do the shopping. We’re short of a few bits and pieces.’
Violet thought about the few pennies in her purse. ‘I’m not sure I have much money left until I collect the next bit of widow’s pension, after the extra bits I bought for Christmas. You don’t have a few coppers you could lend me, do you?’ Give her, more like, seeing as she was eating their food and not paying a farthing.
‘You shouldn’t have been so extravagant. It’s Brynmore what looks after the money, and I didn’t bring a lot with me.’ Olwen sniffed.
Violet went about refilling the teapot while her mother-in-law told Benjamin off for talking with his mouth full, poor little lamb.
Having made the tea, Violet put the pot on the table and fetched an extra cup and saucer for herself.
‘Sounds to me like you need to get a job, my girl,’ said Olwen. ‘There’s plenty to be had at the screens, sorting the coal.’
Violet had done this work before marrying Charlie and had hoped never to repeat the experience, despite what she’d said to Hywel a few days back. ‘Maybe when Benjy goes to school, but I couldn’t leave him with anyone now. I suppose I could get another lodger.’ When Olwen looked at her askance, she added, ‘A single woman. Or a widow with a child.’
‘Why do you need to? I’m here to look after Benjamin, and collect Clarice from school if need be. I’m not just anyone now, am I?’ She turned to the children. ‘Wouldn’t you like that, cariadon? Your mamgu here to look after you?’
‘Are you staying forever?’ Clarice asked, wide-eyed.
‘For as long as you need me. So, your mam can take a trip to the colliery while she’s out shopping.’
Violet nodded, not knowing what else to do. She couldn’t last forever on the pittance she received each week, so she’d have to do something. Not having the energy to fight Olwen on this, she gave herself up to the inevitable.
* * *
Elizabeth’s Morris Oxford stopped near the end of Edward Street and Dr Roberts got out of the front passenger seat. He opened the back door for Anwen, who passed the baby to Idris.
Before getting out, Anwen leaned forward, to poke her head towards the driver’s seat. ‘Thank you, Elizabeth. It was a great help going in the car. And having you and Dr Roberts there was very useful.’
More than useful. She didn’t know how she and Idris would have persuaded the registrar to register the baby without them. On their own, telling the story of an unmarried mother and a father in gaol, she and Idris would have sounded far less convincing.
A week had gone by since Delyth had disappeared, with no signs of her coming back. How anyone could leave a poor, defenceless little babby on their own was beyond her. She hoped now she never came back, for who knew what kind of life the little girl would have with such a mother.
‘I’m glad we could help. I’ll leave you here, if you don’t mind. I want to make sure I’ve got suitable clothes for the start of my new job tomorrow. Hope it goes well with your – family.’ She meant, of course, with Mam.
‘Thank you. And good luck with the job. I’m sure you’ll do better than the man they’ve just sacked. It sounds like he’d no idea how to do the job.’
‘I jolly well hope so.’ She smiled, clearly excited, before a cloud passed over her face. ‘Though I’ve still got to tell my parents. I’ve been leaving it to the last minute, so my mother doesn’t interfere.’
‘Good luck with that too, then.’ Poor Elizabeth, she thought. There was she and Sara who’d been thrown into work they didn’t want to do by a parent, and Elizabeth who was threatened to keep away from it when she was desperate to do it. What a strange world it was.
Anwen shuffled out of the car and leaned in to take the baby from Idris, who picked up the sack bag with a baby’s bottle and a tin full of milk. She’d been as good as gold for much of the journey, the movement of the car lulling her to sleep.
They all watched as Elizabeth turned the car round and drove off.
In the kitchen, Mamgu was sitting at the table, sewing a hem on a dress. Uncle Hywel hadn’t arrived back from the pit yet.
Cadi stood up. ‘Hello cariadon. How did it all go?’
‘It’s done,’ said Dr Roberts.
‘So, will they be able to adopt her?’
‘It’s a bit early to say, Mrs Rhys. We’ll have to see if Delyth comes back to claim her.’
Anwen’s stomach rolled at the thought. After only a week she’d grown fond of the dear little scrap. ‘I suppose it’s a kind of fostering for now,’ she said. ‘But we’ll have to go through the authorities to make it official.’
‘That’s right,’ the doctor confirmed. ‘Where’s Enid? She told me she didn’t work Mondays.’
‘Been out all morning, she has,’ said Cadi. ‘Claimed she was visiting Rhonwen Evans. Very snappy she was before she left. I’ve never known her like it. Always been an even-tempered soul, has Enid. I can understand her being upset about Delyth being pregnant, but it’s not the babby’s fault, is it? Help yourselves to tea. There’s plenty in the pot.’
‘I’ll get some cups,’ said Idris.
‘I was hoping to have a word with her again,’ said the doctor. ‘Try to get her to see sense. No point crowding up the workhouse with yet another poor foundling when there’s a good home here for her.’
‘I’m sure she’ll come around eventually,’ said Cadi. ‘She’s a sweet little thing, the babby, looking out at the world with those big, confused eyes of hers. Makes me want to shed a tear, it does. It’s as if she knows.’
It was odd Cadi should say that when Anwen had thought the same the moment she’d laid eyes on the baby. As for her mother coming around, she had grave doubts. Enid had barely talked to them all week, not taken one bit of notice of the baby and had been in a quietly foul mood.
The back door slammed and Enid was soon in the kitchen, undoing her coat with determination. ‘Spotted Miss Elizabeth’s car so I thought you’d be back.’
‘Mam,’ Anwen started. ‘Don’t be angry, please. She’s only a baby.’
‘Yes, Madog’s baby. Not mine. Not his wife’s. Not that I’d want the bother of another at my age, like Mrs Mitchell on Bryn Road. Forty-six she is, a year older than me, and tired out with a two- and a four-year-old, after a gap of eight years.’ She tutted as if the very idea was detestable.
Dr Roberts took the cup offered by Idris and sat at the table. Enid had great respect for him, being a learned man, as she would put it, so if anyone was likely to talk her around it was him.
‘Enid, sit down please,’ he said.
She removed her coat, throwing it onto the chaise longue, and sat reluctantly. Cadi sang softly to the baby, while Anwen and Idris stood together near the stove.
‘Would you like to know what the baby’s been called?’ said Dr Roberts.
‘No.’
He drew a breath and let it out slowly.
‘Idris and I decided on Sara Cadi, Mam. That’s nice, isn’t it?’
‘You called her middle name after me?’ said Cadi, her cheeks bulging with such a large smile.
‘Well you’re her Mamgu, aren’t you? And since she was born on Christmas Day, exactly a year after dear Sara left us, it seemed li
ke—’
Enid scraped her chair back, her hands crunched into fists that she held in front of her. ‘She is not a replacement for my Sara. And that’s stupid, that is, two sisters with the same name. How dare you?’
‘Mam, I—’
‘Don’t you Mam me. If you want to keep that – that thing, I suggest you live elsewhere.’ She grabbed her coat and shoved the door to the scullery open. Soon the back door was heard to slam once more.
Dr Roberts shook his head. ‘I really don’t know what’s to be done.’
‘Maybe we have been unfair,’ said Anwen. ‘After all, look what my father did to her, and now we’re expecting her to accept his child by another woman into the family.’
‘No,’ said Cadi. ‘As we’ve all said, it’s not the babby’s fault.’ She rocked her as she spoke. ‘No, not Sara Fach’s fault, is it, cariad?’ Cadi sung a hastily made-up version of ‘Sosban Fach’, changing the words to Sara Fach.
The baby’s eyes fluttered as if not used to the light. Her chin wobbled and her lips pouted a moment before the first mewing cries started.
‘Looks like I need to get some more milk ready,’ said Anwen, heading to the scullery. This would be her life for a while, and though she wasn’t displeased with it, it could be better.
Chapter Fifteen
It was the second day Violet had arisen at five for her new job, screening at the pit. Olwen was already sitting at the table by the time she got to the kitchen, a pot of tea and two cups in front of her.
‘You see, it’s not so hard when you get used to it, is it?’ said Olwen, looking smug.
‘I did it for years with Charlie, and before, when I used to work on the screens.’ Though it had never really got any easier she thought, but did not say.
‘But you’ve got lazy since Charlie passed. That won’t do. Good job I’m here to put you right.’
Violet sat and poured herself a cup of tea without commenting. It wasn’t as if there was anything for breakfast, not for her, since the grocer’s was almost bare yesterday. There wasn’t even any of that newfangled cereal from that America, as Olwen had put it. What they had in the larder they mostly had to save for the children, and for supper.