‘I’d like to go and support them. I think I will.’ He headed off to the hall, calling, ‘Hwyl Fawr,’ as he went.
‘Sports Day on an Easter Monday,’ Olwen mumbled. ‘What’s that got to do with the Lord’s resurrection?’
‘It’s a celebration of the wonderful miracle,’ Doris countered, preparing more slices of bread.
‘While our boys fight and die.’
Violet sat to eat her lunch. ‘They do such things in the front lines too, for I recall Charlie mentioning a sports day of sorts in one of his letters.’ It had been the only communication from her late husband that had displayed any kind of enthusiasm.
‘Who’s dying, Mam?’ Clarice asked, her little face puckered with worry. Since being told of her father’s death she had picked up on the word in all sorts of overheard conversations, worrying about those who had passed on.
‘No one is, Clarice. Eat up, there’s a good girl. You can enter some of the races this afternoon. You’ll enjoy that.’
This information soon put a smile on her face.
‘Can I go in races?’ Benjamin asked, his eyes wide with hope.
‘You’re still a little young, I’m afraid, cariad. But I think there might be a couple of stalls selling treats.’
That cheered him up and both children ate quickly, eager to get out to the fun.
* * *
‘Well done, Clarice!’ Olwen had her arms open ready to receive her granddaughter as she rushed back from coming second in the under-seven’s race. But Clarice managed to bypass her and go to her mother first, throwing her arms awkwardly round her coat. Violet experienced a great deal of satisfaction at that, scolding herself for being petty.
‘What a fast girl you are.’ Violet picked her up, though it was an effort these days, and hugged her tight. Their puffs of breath met in the cool air, for the sun lent little warmth to the day. ‘You were one of the younger ones too.’
‘I was only beat by Willy Harris, and he’s very fast.’
Benjamin jumped up and down. ‘Clary won, Clary won.’
‘No, silly,’ said his sister. ‘I was second.’
‘Come here, lovey,’ said Olwen, getting to her granddaughter before Doris did.
‘I think that deserves a treat, don’t you?’ said Ioan. ‘It can also serve as a celebration for the Dorcalon Rovers winning the tournament. Mrs Davies must have been saving the sweets up for this, for there were near empty jars when we went in the tobacconist Saturday.’
‘Yes, and a pretty penny she’ll no doubt be charging for selling them on a stall,’ said Olwen.
‘Half of which is going to Netley Hospital,’ Violet countered.
‘Why don’t you have a go in the widows’ race?’ said Olwen.
The word ‘widow’ hung in the air, at least for Violet. It didn’t seem right that she could be one, not at her age, though it happened to plenty of others. She felt suddenly old, past her best. What was left in life for her now, but to work for ever more with her mother-in-law in the house to look after the children? At least for the next ten or so years.
‘You gone deaf?’ said Olwen.
‘I’m sorry. No, I won’t go in for the widows’ race.’
‘Quite right,’ said Doris. ‘As if you need reminding. Tug-of-war would be fun. You might be slim but you’re strong. Get that from my family, you do. I think Clarice is going to be just like you.’
‘I’m going to enter the egg and spoon race, over there,’ said Olwen. ‘Much more ladylike.’
‘Well let’s come and watch you then,’ said Doris. ‘Always a laugh they are.’
As they all headed off, Ioan took his daughter’s arm. ‘Why don’t you go and find your friends? There’s three of us to look after the babbies. I saw Anwen and Gwen just now.’
‘Can you keep an eye on Mam and Olwen? They seem determined to be in competition about everything.’
‘Aye, of course. When is she going home? I don’t wish to pry, but she seems to have got her feet under the table. I thought she was only coming for a bit to help you out over Christmas. And what does Brynmore think?’
‘I’ve asked but Olwen only says it’s not my business. I’m wondering if she’s left him. And the thing is, Da, her being there means I can do some work, for the widow’s pension isn’t up to much.’
‘Mm. Brynmore didn’t say much when we saw him, but he didn’t seem pleased about the situation. It’s such a shame you had to go back to the screens, but as long as you’re sure. Nice-looking girl like you should be able to get another husband.’
‘Oh Da! Charlie’s only been gone eight months. And I wouldn’t take on another man just for his wages. What kind of woman would that make me?’
‘Plenty do. There’s no shame in it. Got to survive, haven’t you? I wish we hadn’t moved to Bargoed, especially now our Ivy’s moved to Hereford. Anyway, you go and find your friends.’
‘Thanks, Da. I haven’t got to see them much recently, what with Olwen always keeping— that is, Olwen being around.’ She was about to say keeping an eye on me but didn’t want to cause any more friction in the family.
Violet walked through the crowd, her neck stretched, searching for Gwen and Anwen.
‘Violet! Wait up.’
She wheeled round to see Hywel dodging past Polly and Gus and his family. Turning her head this way and that, she made sure Olwen wasn’t around. By this time he’d caught her up.
‘I haven’t seen you in a fortnight.’
‘No, it’s better that we don’t see each other, Hywel. People are talking and we don’t want them getting the wrong impression.’
‘Why? We haven’t done anything wrong.’ Hywel looked like he was about to take her hands but thought better of it.
‘People will jump to their own conclusions, you know that.’
‘Is it Olwen you’re worried about? Surely she’ll be leaving soon, she’s been here long enough.’
‘I think it might still be a while yet. I need her help, Hywel.’ She kept looking into the crowd, making sure neither her mother-in-law nor anyone else bent on trouble was around.
‘Maybe… maybe there could be some way I could help you. Eventually. When the time is right.’
She wasn’t sure what he was getting at and she didn’t want to explore it too deeply. Her next-door-but-one neighbour came close by, causing Violet to say loudly, ‘I hear your team won the tournament. Well done.’
‘Oh, aye.’
He looked confused until Violet said, ‘Hello Mrs Prowse, enjoying the games, are you?’
‘Goodness yes. It’s nice to be out, even if it is a tad chilly.’
She soon passed by, much to Violet’s relief.
‘Look, if you need the money and want to get rid of Olwen, I know of an older gentleman who’s looking for new lodgings as he’s just retired and his wife’s not long passed.’
‘Thank you for thinking of me, Hywel, but no, I’ll keep things as they are.’ It was easier, and she needed a quiet life for now. Battling Olwen was exhausting, and she’d simply run out of puff.
There was the sound of music. Violet realised that the Dorcalon Silver Band, such as it was with its eight instruments, had started up again. It had only been formed recently, by Gwen’s father, who played the euphonium. The band included Mr Schenck’s nephew, Noah. The musicians were standing on the road overlooking the field. Everyone stopped to look. Herbert Meredith, who’d opened the event earlier, had also returned with his wife. Everyone moved in as it appeared he was about to say something. The band’s short tune, clearly an introduction to get their attention, came to an end.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Mr Meredith began, his voice clear and carrying well across the field. ‘My good lady wife and I received a telephone call, not fifteen minutes ago, from one of the counsellors to say they’d heard that the United States has officially declared war on Germany.’
A cheer went around the field. Violet’s neighbour, now close by again, called, ‘Perhaps this war will c
ome to an end a bit quicker and we can get our boys back.’
Mr Meredith held his hand up to silence them. ‘Furthermore, there is news that Cuba and Panama have also joined the allies against the German and Austro-Hungarian forces.’
A further cheer went up.
‘Now, please, return to your afternoon of fun.’
The Silver Band started up once again, with a rendition of ‘Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit-Bag’, prompting much of the crowd to join in. Singing louder than anyone else was Gus Smith and his brother-in-law, Vic. The tune came to an end and the crowd headed to the next set of races, chatting more happily even than they had done before the announcement.
At last Violet caught sight of her friends. She rushed to them, dodging various people as she went.
‘Violet!’ called Gwen, holding out her hands to her friend. ‘Your da told us you’d be looking for us. Let off for good behaviour, is it?’ She laughed. She had on yet another dress that Violet hadn’t seen before, daringly calf-length, with a felt hat sporting a narrower brim than normal.
‘How are you getting on?’ said Anwen, putting one arm through Violet’s.
‘Oh, I’m fine. It’s nice having Mam and Da to stay.’ She wasn’t about to burden her friends with her problems.
‘Let’s go to the women’s under thirties race,’ said Gwen. ‘One of you should have a go.’
‘You were always the fastest of us,’ said Violet.
‘I’m too exhausted these days. Don’t even think I’ll manage the allotments this spring.’
‘No wonder when you’re always out,’ said Anwen. ‘It’s that young man who’s getting the benefit of your company these days.’
It was the first Violet had heard of it. She felt left out.
‘Now now, don’t pry,’ said Gwen, grinning. ‘I wonder where Elizabeth is today.’
‘Mam overheard that she was going off to a concert somewhere,’ said Anwen. ‘She had the impression it was some suitor or other. I’d have thought she’d have mentioned it though, if that were the case.’
‘Well well,’ said Gwen. ‘That’s something.’
‘Why’s that?’ asked Violet.
‘Oh, no reason in particular.’
‘I’m going to have a go at this race.’ Anwen surged ahead.
They arrived as the women were lining up. Rose Pritchard was among them, along with Polly’s sister-in-law, Hilda.
Violet considered them all for a second. ‘Oh, do you know what? I think I will have a go. Why not?’
She just registered Gwen’s eyes widening when she headed off. She’d never been the bravest of the three of them, liking what she knew, not feeling herself capable, but she wanted, on this day, to have a small adventure. She lined up on the opposite side from Anwen, not wanting to be obvious competition. On the side lines she caught Hywel’s eye, his face registering the same amazement as Gwen’s.
Soon they were off. Violet didn’t mind if she didn’t win, providing she wasn’t last. This thought propelled her forward. To her surprise, she was soon fourth, with Rose and Hilda battling for first position. She looked behind to find Anwen two people behind her.
As they raced to the finish it became clear there was some trouble ahead. Rose and Hilda seemed too close together, almost touching. No, they were touching, and not by accident. They were pushing each other! There were cheers and cries of disdain from the crowd. Only yards before the end, Hilda pushed Rose so hard she fell over. Initially triumphant, she went to spring ahead, only to have her heel grabbed by the prostrate Rose, causing her to tumble over. The woman in third place had to dodge to avoid them, leaving Violet to take first place.
Over the finishing line, she bent over, clutching her knees. She registered the cheers for her among the booing for the troublemakers. Looking back the way she’d come, she saw Anwen come in next. Behind her it was chaos, with Gus and Rose’s mother helping their own family members up whilst shouting at each other. Vic and Frances joined the fray which soon included Rose’s father and James the Veg.
Inevitably, Sergeant Harries turned up on the scene with PC Probert, ordering the quarrelling groups apart and telling them to go about their business.
With the brawl ended, Violet was awarded her rosette by Mrs Meredith. Clarice and Benjamin ran over to cuddle her. Her parents weren’t far behind with enthusiastic praises, along with her friends. Olwen skulked at the back, saying nothing. A few yards away Violet spied Hywel, waving to her in congratulation. She couldn’t help thinking she didn’t deserve it. If it hadn’t been for the scuffle, she’d have come in fourth.
Gertie Pritchard went by with Sergeant Harries, bending his ear with a constant stream of words.
‘We shouldn’t be surprised it was them what caused all the fuss. Look at the way they treated Esther Williams when she did that sewing work for them, saying it was shoddy and refusing to pay her, but I’ll tell you, Sergeant, she’s done plenty of work for me and neat as a pin she is and say what you will about her gossiping and interfering, but she has a steady sewing hand, does Esther.’
The diatribe faded as the two of them walked away.
‘Gertie Pritchard sticking up for Esther, now there’s a match made in heaven,’ said Gwen, laughing. ‘Come on, let’s buy some sweets while there are still some available. No doubt Mrs Davies will sell out and the jars’ll be empty in her shop next week.’
She led the way followed by Anwen and then Violet, who took a last look around to see if Hywel was there. He wasn’t.
* * *
Violet and her friends got to the end of the field closest to the back of the school a couple of minutes before the men’s under thirties race was due to begin. It was Margaret Meredith who was to start this race.
‘Look, there’s Idris and Gwilym, with Noah Schenck!’ Anwen pointed at them as they took their places.
‘Oh Lord, and that Gus and Vic are taking part as well,’ said Gwen. ‘I see more trouble ahead.’
‘They’ve been warned,’ said Violet, ‘so hopefully they’ll behave.’
The race began. It was soon clear that Gus and Vic were not bothered about what the local constabulary thought. Their elbows were flying left and right, knocking their opponents out of the way.
Gwen threw her hands up. ‘Unbelievable!’
Margaret Meredith’s voice called warnings to the men, as she hurried along the line of the race, trying to keep up. Her voice became shriller with orders. By the middle of the race, the union rep, David Keir, who’d had a spat with Maurice Coombes and the other soldiers in the pub before Christmas, had taken umbrage. He started pushing Vic back. He was soon joined by his pals, which in turn brought Gus back when he’d been speeding on ahead. The rest of the men, Gwilym and Idris included, stopped racing and looked on, shaking their heads in disbelief.
‘Not again,’ said Gwen. ‘And what does Mrs Meredith think she’s going to achieve?’
Margaret was running in dainty little steps across the racetrack, all the time demanding that they stop this minute!
‘She’s brave,’ said Violet, just at the moment the manager’s wife reached the rabble.
The next thing they knew she was screaming, her hand pressed against her cheek. By this time, the two policemen had turned up again with Mr Meredith.
‘Someone hit me,’ Margaret cried. She looked around at who was close by. ‘Him, him there.’ She pointed towards Vic.
‘It weren’t me. And you were only clipped. Serves you right for getting in the way, you silly bint.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
Several of the other racers went to speak, but Noah got in first. ‘It was Gus Smith.’
Gus folded his arms, showing off the muscles through the thin shirt. ‘People are picking on us because we’re English.’
‘Are you sure, Mr Schenck?’ asked Sergeant Harries.
‘Schenck?’ Vic screwed up his face and glared at Noah. ‘Bloody German are you, like that bookshop owner? Your father, I bet.’
&n
bsp; ‘He’s my uncle, and I’m Dutch, actually,’ he said in a Welsh accent. ‘But I don’t even remember the Netherlands much.’
‘Anyway, we all saw it,’ said Gwilym, butting in.
The other racers agreed.
‘You would bloody say that.’ Gus slowly turned, taking them all in. ‘You’ll regret turning on us.’
‘Now, Mr Smith, I’d be careful what you say,’ warned Harries. ‘I’ll assume for now it was an accident. But we’ll have no more being rude to the manager’s wife. This race is at an end. Move on to the next one please. And no more trouble, for I’m not inclined to arrest anyone on this happy day, but if I have to, I will.’
A strident voice alerted Violet to her family, a few yards away. Olwen was pointing her finger at Polly Coombes, or Smith, as she now was.
‘What have you brought with you to our village, eh? I’ve ’eard about you, cheap piece of nothing.’
Anwen went over to them. ‘I think that’s enough now, don’t you? It’s not her what’s had the argument.’
Polly looked close to tears, holding baby Herby to her as she shuffled away. With her victim gone, Olwen turned on Violet. ‘See the kind of company that ruffian Hywel keeps?’
Violet was confused. ‘But it was Gus and Vic who started the trouble. Hywel wasn’t even in the race, being over thirty.’
‘The Smiths were egged on by Gwilym and Idris, I saw it. And they’re all friends.’
Anwen squeezed her lips in. ‘Do you mind, Mrs Jones, but you’re talking about my husband and my uncle. And I can assure you that neither Idris nor Gwilym had anything to do with the fight, and they, along with Uncle Hywel, are peaceful men.’ She turned towards her friend. ‘I’m sorry Violet, it’s not your fault, but I’m joining my family now.’
As she walked off, Gwen said, ‘I’m going to find my parents and mamgu too. Take care.’
And they were gone. Violet had never felt so alone. She knew her friends didn’t blame her, but she was the one hosting Olwen at her house.
War in the Valleys Page 23
