Gwenna the Welsh Confectioner

by Vicky Adin

  Choosing her words with care, she explained how horrified Bethan had been at the state of the house and had nearly forced her to return to North Street. But in the end, Bethan had agreed to help clean the place up a bit.

  “She couldn’t stay long – only for the day – because Elias was due home and she didn’t want to upset him by not being there. She fed me some soup, and by the next day I felt stronger. She said I had to keep taking the tonic, and she’d get me some iron pills.”

  Gwenna willed Johnno to say something reassuring, but he didn’t. While he could not have known how sick she had been, neither did he understand how miserable she was, and he’d ignored all her pleas to find a place of their own.

  “So how did you do all this?” He waved his arm around the room.

  “Mam helped me. She came back the next day, as she said she would, with those iron pills. They’re wonderful, and I got stronger each day. We moved the bigger furniture around in here, and Mam carried water from the tank into the house. We filled all the buckets and bowls I could find and I heated it a pot at a time on the range. Can you fill more for me, now you are here?”

  Johnno nodded. “I’ll ask about installing a pipe to the door, too, if you like. But tell me what else happened.”

  She had so much to tell Johnno, words tumbled over each other.

  “Mam made me promise to have a rest each afternoon, which is why you found me asleep now. I spent two days giving this room a thorough doing, but only in short bursts. Honest. And I rested. The bedspread was Mam’s. She brought it for me, and Mavis picked the flowers. She’s called in a couple of times, just to see how I’m doing. I need to pay her back for the Dinneford’s, and I want to get some more. Have you got any money? Can you take me to town?”

  Gwenna was so pleased to see Johnno she couldn’t stop talking. She also explained how Bethan had brought her a box of lime, and together they had tossed it and heaps of ashes from the firebox, into the dunny.

  “It stank, Johnno. Did you never notice? I couldn’t bear to be inside the thing. Mavis also said to cover it each time with sawdust or straw, but I didn’t have any. Bethan threw the vegetable scraps down into it. It’s better, but you’ll have to dig a new one. I’ve been using a potty.”

  “I’ll add it to the list,” he said, grimacing, repelled at the thought of tackling the job. “Anything else?”

  “Did you see the kitchen? After I’d got this room looking nice I decided to tackle the kitchen. I just finished it this morning.”

  Gwenna ran out of steam and remembered Johnno had some explaining of his own to do.

  “Can I at least have a cup of tea and something to eat, first? Please?” Johnno took her hand and led her towards the kitchen.

  Gwenna put the kettle on the range to boil and whipped up a batch of Welsh cakes to go with their tea while Johnno stoked up the fire. Feeling safe and contented now he was back, she started humming as she creamed the butter and sugar, stirred in the eggs, flour and raisins, and dropped a spoonful at a time on the hot griddle. The smell of melting butter made Johnno’s stomach rumble. In a hurry to get home, he hadn’t eaten that day.

  “I don’t know what happened to put Jack in such a bad humour, but whatever it was, he was keen to get away south. We’d been on the road for two days, calling into small settlements west of Pukekohe, and then he tells me to leave him. I’m to take the wagon and deliver whatever goods he still had on the back to Waiuku. Then I was to come and find him in Tuakau.”

  Johnno munched through several hot Welsh cakes and swallowed two cups of tea before he felt full enough. “We fought most of the way about leaving without telling you how long we’d be. He said he didn’t know how long we’d be away, so I told him he could stay in Tuakau by himself. I wanted to come back here to see you.” Johnno reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Gwenna. I should have prepared you better. I’m proud of you. You’ve done wonders.”

  Gwenna wasn’t at all sure he understood what she was saying. He sounded indifferent to her fears, and she wanted to make Johnno feel bad for leaving her.

  “I was that frightened, Johnno, when I realised I was on my own. I’ve never been overnight on my own before, anywhere, not ever. I didn’t know what would happen to me if no one knew I was sick. I could have died.” Feeling she was being a little overdramatic, she added, “I am better than I was, but you can help me fix up the scrim, and scrub these walls and the hallway to make up for it.”

  She saw his face change. Neither of them could be certain how Jack would react to the changes, but they suspected he wouldn’t be happy about any of it. “I’ll not touch Black Jack’s room. I promise. And has anyone ever used the front room? There’s furniture in there all covered in dust sheets, but beyond peeking in I’ve not been in there either.”

  She yelped in surprise when Johnno grabbed her arm. “Don’t ever go in there, Gwenna. Jack’d come close to killing you if he found out.” Johnno paused, releasing his hold, and stared along the corridor towards the front room and back at Gwenna. He took a deep breath. “It was my mother’s favourite room. I was just a nipper when she told him she wanted to leave. Jack got himself into a right rage. He told her to get out and threatened he’d kill her, and me, if she ever came back. He wouldn’t let her take anything with her either. He tied me to the verandah post and burnt all her belongings on the lawn as she watched and begged him to let me go. The front room furniture is all that’s left. Jack refuses to use it.” The painful memories clouded Johnno’s eyes. “Don’t say anything, Gwenna. Or ask about it again. Just leave the past where it belongs.”

  “I’m sorry, Johnno. I didn’t know.” His story at least told Gwenna a little about why Johnno was tied to his father. And why he lived for today, avoided making plans and dismissed her worries. It also told her a lot more about Johnno’s father and why people called him Black Jack.

  At a loss as to what to say or do next, Gwenna suggested they clean up after their tea, but Johnno had other ideas. Over the course of the evening and well into the night, they made love; she talked about the future, their child, her pa’s dreams, the need for a home of their own and what Johnno would do for a job. He’d been more tight-lipped than usual about what Jack was doing and what it would mean for them.

  “But he’s a carter, isn’t he?” Gwenna didn’t understand what carting they did, since the boats and trains took most of the long-distance goods. “Can’t you take over the carting side of the business and leave him to do whatever else he does?”

  She’d heard rumours, too many rumours in fact, about the way Jack did business, and she didn’t want Johnno caught up in any of it. Money lending was a nasty business at the best of times. Black Jack’s rough methods made it worse.

  “That’s the plan,” said Johnno, snuggling into her neck. “Enough talk for now. I’ve better things on my mind,” and he let his hands do the rest of the talking.

  11

  The joy of reunion

  March 1900

  “Johnno’s sent word. He’ll be back tomorrow,” Gwenna shrieked, grinning.

  Most of the time, Johnno and his father were away for around seven to ten days, but this last time, Johnno said they’d be away for over three weeks.

  Refusing to stay on her own for that length of time, Gwenna had gone to stay with Tillie, both for her own sanity, but also to help Tillie as she awaited the birth of their baby.

  “I’ll be sorry to see you go,” said Tillie. “It’s been wonderful having you with me for these past weeks. You’ve been such a help.” Tillie gazed in awe at the little bundle lying in her arms. Only a matter of days old, her daughter slept peacefully, wrapped in the fine lace shawl Bethan had crocheted.

  The radiance on Tillie’s face melted Gwenna’s heart. “I’ve loved being here. And I’m glad I’ve been of use, given I move like a blob of blubber. You’ve no idea how far I’ve let my stays out already.”

  Tillie and Bethan assured her she wasn’t large at all. In fact, th
ey were worried she had lost weight and appeared to be all baby.

  “You do look better, Gwenna, bach,” said Bethan. “I was so worried about you back in January and the tonic and the iron pills have done their job. Your skin is blooming, but you’re a little thin. Make sure you eat properly.”

  Gwenna didn’t tell Bethan she found the heat of summer a strain and could scarcely eat a thing, but nothing could take away her delight at spending time with her family. Charlie had been thrilled to see her and keen to do her bidding, whatever she asked of him. Bethan had clung to her for an overly long time, studying her face intently.

  Talking with Mam about what she’d done recently, how she felt about Johnno being away so much, and what to expect when her time came took her back to the old days when her pa was alive and gladness filled the house, but it was the joy of seeing Tom and Tillie together making Gwenna feel weepy.

  To anyone watching, it was obvious they enjoyed each other’s company and shared secret smiles and glances. Tom was solicitous, making sure Tillie had everything she needed and rested well, while Tillie cooked his favourite meals and ensured all was as Tom liked it. A relationship like theirs was what Gwenna wanted for her and Johnno. She yearned for a connectedness but something was missing. Johnno was too distracted. Until they had a place of their own, away from his father, and until she could persuade him to find a job in the city so he wouldn’t have to travel, it wouldn’t happen.

  Gwenna gently ran her finger over the baby’s brow. “Your Olwen is such a delight. You should be proud of her – and what a lovely idea to give her such a meaningful name. A new ‘footprint’ in a new land.”

  Gwenna had been relieved to find Tillie had had an easy time with the birth. The midwife even commented how unusual it was for a first time, but then the baby was a girl and quite small. Gwenna prayed it would be as easy when she came to her time – and that someone would be with her.

  Over the last three months, Johnno and Black Jack had come and gone as often as the winds and the weather had changed. Sometimes Johnno returned alone, and they spent a few idyllic days together before he had to leave again. Life was quite different when Black Jack was there.

  Gwenna had expected him to have something to say about the changes she’d made to the house, but he remained his surly and silent self in her presence. As time passed, it reached the point where she couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him. Everything about him, from his glaring eyes and scowling face to the colour of his skin, even the smell of him, made her flesh crawl.

  Seeing the growing antipathy between Gwenna and Jack, Johnno was cautious about repeating anything his father said. Somehow, Johnno had persuaded his father to let him extend the water pipe to fit inside the back door. It wasn’t perfect but better than nothing. And she had a new outhouse too.

  Saying her farewells to Tillie, Gwenna made her way home feeling lighter than usual, and her heart full of expectation and hope.

  * * *

  She couldn’t believe her ears when Johnno told her he was on his away again the next morning. “I have to get back,” he said. “I have to pick up a return shipment of goods from the wharf first thing. I’ll be lucky if I can do the trip in two days. I hear the weather’s supposed to turn bad.”

  “No, Johnno. No. You can’t leave me again. Please stay home. I need you, Johnno, bach.” She reached out for him. Hands on his arms, she peered into his face. He’d bent his head down to hers, but while she saw desire, she also saw defeat. “Don’t go, Johnno. Don’t go.”

  He shook her hands from his arms and backed away. “I must. Jack needs me to ...”

  “Jack needs you?” she shouted. “What about me? I need you. Don’t I count for anything?” Fear of being alone when the baby came, although that day was still several months away, drove her to scream at him, her voice shrill. “I need you. Here. With me.”

  She was unable to explain what was going on in her mind and, at a loss for the right words, couldn’t begin to describe the loneliness, or how she felt like a different person in this house, and how she fretted and fussed while he was gone. How the story of his mother had upset her far more than he would ever realise. She just kept repeating, “I need you. I need you.” But he was deaf to her pleas.

  “We need the money, Gwenna.” He took her by the shoulders and squeezed hard to bring her tirade to an end. “I can’t stay against his wishes. He pays me to do what he tells me. I have to go.”

  Gwenna never considered herself one of the ancients who saw or heard strange things, but, studying Johnno’s face, an unexpected and inexplicable feeling of dread drained the energy from her body. She slumped against him.

  “Ah, Gwenna, my love. I’m doing my best.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “But we do need the money.” He tried to catch her eyes, but they were downcast. Her head moved against his chest. “As soon as we’ve saved enough, I promise, we’ll find a place of our own. And I’ll find a new job – just to please you – but not yet awhile. Be patient. It’ll work out all right in the end.”

  The next morning she rose early to say farewell and make sure he had enough food for the journey. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Following his every move, forcing her brain to remember every detail: every crease around his eyes, his mouth, his hands, his hair. She was filled with such love she thought her heart would burst.

  Standing on the front verandah still in her nightdress with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, she waved him goodbye. She remained standing there long after the wagon, with J Jones Esq. Carter painted along the sideboards, faded into the distance. He’d vowed to be home soon.

  “In six or seven days, I promise. Saturday week at the latest.”

  She wished she could feel as certain.

  12

  Home is where the heart is

  Early April 1900

  Mavis dropped in now and then to bring her a bunch of flowers, a few veges from the garden or an egg or two. The days were bearable, but the silence at night set Gwenna on edge. Three days later, unable to stand her own company any longer, Gwenna took the train to Auckland. The walk to the station carrying her small holdall seemed a lot further than it once had, but at least she didn’t feel so self-conscious travelling alone in public. Not now. Not wearing the maternity wrap dress she had borrowed from Tillie, which buttoned all the way down the front, softening her bumpy profile.

  Getting off the train in Queen Street and catching the horse tram up to Karangahape Road felt like a homecoming. She smiled and found others smiling back at her. This was where she belonged. The isolation of the farmhouse was getting on her nerves, regardless of how much effort she’d put into making it look and feel as if it were ‘her’ place. It could never be hers. And she missed making sweets. She hadn’t realised how much until now.

  With only herself to feed, she had done little cooking and even less baking until word reached her that Johnno was coming home. After the first time, when they’d left in such a hurry and without saying how many days they’d be away, she made Johnno tell her before he left how long he’d be gone and to send word when he was on his way home. She’d needed something to look forward to, a time to prepare for, and tasks to take her mind off her loneliness. She’d whitewashed the interior walls, and the entire outhouse to brighten the place up, but it wasn’t enough.

  Tillie was pleased to see her. “You have no idea how often Olwen wakes and how little sleep I’m getting. But I mustn’t complain. She’s such a delight.”

  Gwenna sympathised. “Now I’m here, you can take a nap when you need to, and I can do some of your chores, but first things first. I’m going to make us a batch of butterscotch.”

  Setting aside her bonnet and gloves, and removing the wrap dress, now she was in the company of family, Gwenna headed to the kitchen with Tillie following behind.

  “There’s something about making sweet things by hand that is so satisfying, isn’t there,” commented Tillie, going to the pantry. She opened a cake tin and
showed Gwenna the latest batch of fudge she’d made. “I was in a hurry because Olwen was crying. It’s not my best, but it turned out all right.”

  As usual, Gwenna could not resist Tillie’s fudge and popped a piece in her mouth. “Mmmm. It’s still good. You’re so clever,” she mumbled through the gooey lump she chewed.

  “Didn’t Mam teach us not to speak with our mouths full?” teased Tillie.

  Gwenna almost choked as the laughter caught at the back of her throat. She put her hand up to her mouth. Oh, how good it was to be back home.

  “Have another piece.”

  Later in the day Bethan came around, delighted to know Gwenna was back in town again so soon.

  “I’ll stay for a couple of days. Mavis has promised to let me know if anything arrives from Johnno telling me when he’ll be home. He’s supposed to be back on Saturday, but he might come earlier.” She sounded more hopeful than certain, but if he didn’t arrive ahead of time, three more days wasn’t too long to wait.

  Over tea and scones the women chatted as if life was perfect – and for those few moments it was. All their cares and concerns faded into the background. It was not until Bethan mentioned stocks must be low, that either girl took notice.

  “Elias hasn’t asked me to make anything in a long time. He’s away from home such a lot, and sometimes I don’t know what I should be doing. He never tells me where he’s been, but wherever it is, it’s a dusty place. His clothes are covered in it.”

  Questions over whether Bethan had money for food, or if the bills were paid, came one after another, but she assured the girls all seemed well.

  “The horse gets groomed, and there’s plenty of hay, but the cart doesn’t get used as much as it used to. Elias seems to do whatever trade he’s doing either on foot or on horseback and I’m hearing the telephone more often. I don’t like that thing, but Elias seems happy enough using it.”