Sinners and Shadows

by Catrin Collier

  She had a plan. If it didn’t work she would resign herself to life with her stepmother and, given her father’s increasingly frequent absences, without the comfort of his presence. If, by some miracle, her scheming did come to fruition, her entire life would change, but there would still be problems, not least Geraint himself. Although he had become increasingly considerate and sympathetic over the months, she felt that something was missing from their relationship.

  He listened attentively to everything she said and made the correct remarks in the correct place. He complimented her on her clothes and choice of reading material, agreed with the aims of the suffragette movement without condoning their more extreme methods of attempting to achieve them, such as the recent attack on Buckingham Palace. He repeated every respectful and admiring comment he’d heard about her father and when she couldn’t refrain from mentioning her stepmother, added implied but never outright criticism of Mrs Larch. He offered her his arm when they walked together, opened doors for her, helped her on and off with her coat – and never touched her other than in the way a respectful nephew would an elderly maiden aunt.

  She picked up a pair of gold earrings from her dressing table and fiddled with them. ‘Can I ask you something, Rhian?’

  ‘About the wedding?’ Rhian mumbled absently, her mouth full of hairpins. All she seemed to talk about was her coming wedding. With Mrs Williams, who had bought a new hat and outfit for the occasion; with Sali, who’d refused to listen to her and Joey’s plans to hold their reception in the Catholic Hall, instead insisting that she and Lloyd, with Mari’s help, provide the wedding breakfast in Ynysangharad House; and with Joey, who rarely mentioned the actual ceremony but was completely obsessed with their honeymoon. But no matter how long the conversations, she never grew tired of the subject.

  ‘No, not about your wedding.’ Julia locked her fingers together on her lap and stared down at them. ‘Do you allow Mr Evans to kiss you?’

  ‘I have trouble limiting Mr Evans to just kisses,’ Rhian answered dryly. ‘If it was up to him we’d honeymoon before the wedding. But then, from what Mrs Williams says, every girl has the same problem.’

  Julia blushed. ‘I just wanted to know how far … I mean …’

  ‘If I was engaged to anyone other than Joey I might allow him to take more liberties,’ Rhian interrupted, anxious to spare Julia’s embarrassment. ‘But given Joey’s past I warned him that I would make him wait until our wedding night, and so far I’ve succeeded.’

  ‘Are you frightened?’

  ‘Of the wedding night? No.’ Rhian smiled. ‘After all the kissing and … other things, I’m rather looking forward to it. You?’

  ‘I think you and your Mr Evans are further along than me and …’ Julia smiled self-consciously. She had already said more than she had intended.

  ‘I am dying to find out who he is. Do I know him?’

  Julia watched Rhian push the last pin in her hair. ‘Sort of. I won’t say any more until I am sure of his feelings towards me. But I promise you that if I do marry him you will be one of the first to know who he is.’

  ‘Are you madly in love with him?’

  Julia hesitated again before deciding there was no harm in Rhian knowing exactly how she felt, especially as it was highly unlikely that she would meet Geraint in the future. ‘Completely.’ Until that moment she hadn’t realized just how much she meant it.

  ‘And he loves you just as much?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Men aren’t like us. They have trouble expressing their feelings.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Julia grasped at the straw of comfort Rhian offered.

  ‘Do you want me to come in tonight and brush out your hair?’

  ‘No, you’ll be tired after your day with Mr Evans.’ Julia handed Rhian a copy of Bennett’s Anna of the Five Towns. ‘Let me know what you think of it?’

  ‘I will.’ Rhian hid the book in her handbag. ‘See you in the morning.’

  ‘Enjoy your day.’

  Julia looked around her room after Rhian left. Her stepmother had wanted to redecorate it but she hadn’t allowed her to touch a thing. As a result it had changed very little since her childhood. The simple pinewood furniture and cream wallpaper were both over twenty years old. She had removed her toys from the shelves either side of the fireplace and used them to store her books and display some of the photographs her father had taken. Carefully posed studio shots with her mother and Gerald, taken at various stages of their childhood, outdoor snapshots of her and Gerald playing tennis and cycling, and the last photograph he had taken of her with the staff on New Year’s Eve.

  Leaving the stool, she opened her wardrobe and lifted out the Gladstone bag she had used to carry documents to and from suffragette meetings for the last few weeks, or so her father and stepmother thought.

  She packed a new nightgown and negligée in the bottom, placed a brand-new set of toiletries on top and a plain hairbrush and comb. The photographs were difficult and she took a few moments to choose them, eventually settling on one of her mother, one of her parents, Gerald and her that her father had taken with an experimental timer and one he had taken of her and Rhian last summer. She wrapped the frames in a towel to protect them and placed them in the bag.

  She added a change of underclothes, stockings, a lightweight summer dress and a pair of shoes. She had problems closing it, and the leather sides bulged. Hoping that no one would pay much attention to it when she left the house, she opened her casement window wide, moved her chair in front of it and began to re-read her favourite book, Wuthering Heights. Her sympathies oscillated between Cathy’s mad passionate love for Heathcliff, and a desire to shake the woman for not appreciating her safe, boring husband, Edgar Linton, and the secure life he gave her.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘I agree, Joey, there’s always wars going on “down there in the Balkans” as you put it. But I’ve a feeling that this one is going to spill over and reach here.’ Billy Evans took a cheese scone from the trays of cakes, scones and sandwiches Megan had put on the table and set it on his own plate.

  ‘Surely it won’t affect Tonypandy?’ Megan glanced instinctively at the twins. She couldn’t bear the thought of violence marring their childhood.

  It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and the air was still, uncomfortably warm even within the stonewalled farmhouse. They were eating tea, and because of the early hours Victor kept, a full hour earlier than it would be served in polite circles.

  ‘I’m afraid it might, Megan.’ Billy tapped the copy of the previous Saturday’s Rhondda Leader. ‘It says here that the Admiralty wants the mineworkers in the pits that supply the Navy with coal, to work through their summer holidays.’

  ‘The South Wales Miners’ Executive Council have declared that it is not necessary for Britain to interfere in a war between Austria and Serbia,’ Joey chipped in.

  ‘Unfortunately the Miners’ Executive Council doesn’t run this country, or have any more influence than the International Miners’ Congress. They adopted a resolution condemning the war between Serbia and Austria and demanding their members do everything they can to stop their respective governments from going to war. But only an incurable optimist would believe that resolution will have the slightest effect.’ Billy spread butter on his scone.

  ‘So what are you saying, Dad?’ Victor asked. ‘We’re powerless to prevent it?’

  ‘As ordinary working men, yes. The capitalists have decided to go to war for their own selfish ends, which have everything to do with making money for the arms manufacturers and nothing to do with freedom, common sense or the comfort of ordinary people and their families. And because they want it, they’ll engineer it no matter what.’

  ‘They’ve been preparing for it for years,’ Betty Morgan declared. Betty’s husband, like Billy Evans, had been a Communist and miners’ leader, and unlike most women of her class, she had developed a keen interest in politics. ‘Why else is the Kaiser about to launch
the world’s biggest ship, the Bismarck, if he doesn’t intend to start a naval war?’

  ‘You only have to read the papers.’ Billy pointed to the neat pile in the alcove next to the stove. ‘The Kaiser’s reaffirmed Germany’s alliance with Austria, the Russians have warned that they won’t sit back and watch Serbia be invaded, so you’ve four countries hell-bent – sorry, ladies but I couldn’t think of another word to use – on wasting the lives of their young men. And once they start firing shots at one another, more will join in. That kind of guts and glory killing has always been infectious in the past.’

  ‘But Britain will stay out of it.’ Megan looked to her husband for reassurance.

  ‘For now, Megs. Cut me a slice of that apple pie, please.’ Victor held out his plate.

  ‘Don’t worry, Megan, nothing’s going to happen in Tonypandy.’ Joey dropped a spoonful of clotted cream on the last piece of fruit scone on his plate.

  ‘I thought that right up until the day I saw troops marching down Dunraven Street.’

  ‘That was the strike, Dad.’ Victor could see that Megan was really upset.

  ‘And you think the miners’ refusal to work holidays isn’t reason enough for the government to send the soldiers back into the Rhondda?’

  ‘Let’s hope not.’ Victor pushed his chair away from the table. ‘In the meantime I’ve a herd of cows to bring in and milk. Coming, Dad?’

  ‘Aye.’ Billy picked up his cap and pushed it on to his head. He and Victor kissed Rhian’s cheek and shook Joey’s hand when they left the table to say goodbye. ‘Enjoy the show in the New Theatre.’

  ‘We will.’ Joey said goodbye to the twins and the women and followed his father and Victor into the farmyard. ‘You don’t really think that Britain is going to get involved in this war, do you, Dad?’ Unlike his father and Lloyd, he had never been a political thinker or interested in anything that took place outside of his immediate circle.

  ‘I can’t see into the future, but I don’t mind telling you I’m worried. Particularly when I look at the newspaper reports. Truth seems to have given way to flag-waving and patriotism of the worse kind.’ His father laced on the dusty working boots he’d left outside the kitchen door.

  ‘The Evans family will just have to remain neutral,’ Victor said loudly for Megan’s benefit when she pushed the twins’ pram out into the sunshine. ‘Hoping they’ll sleep for an hour, Megs?’

  ‘Betty said she’ll keep an eye on them for me while I clear the dishes and start cooking supper.’

  ‘And Betty has the best end of the bargain.’ The elderly widow carried a chair and her knitting into the yard and sat next to the pram. ‘See you next week, Rhian, Joey?’

  ‘And then in church,’ Joey smiled.

  ‘I’ll get there early. Half the Rhondda will be wanting to see Joey Evans walk up the aisle.’ Betty shook her head in wonder. ‘I never thought I’d live to see the day.’

  *……*……*

  Rhian slipped her arm around Joey’s waist as they made their way along the track that led from the farm to Tonypandy. The heat of the day was slowly giving way to balmy early evening warmth, and she felt blissfully happy and contented.

  ‘Tired?’ Joey asked when she yawned.

  ‘Maybe, just a little. All of us have been working harder and longer hours than usual. Mrs Larch has organized a series of garden parties in aid of the hospital fund. I’m glad to be missing one today.’

  Joey slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him as they walked. ‘I wish I could see more of you.’

  ‘Then you feel as though we haven’t had enough time to talk the last couple of months as well?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m not complaining. I like visiting Victor, Megan and the twins and Sali, Lloyd and their children, and,’ he gave her a slight squeeze, ‘it won’t be for much longer. Another two and a half weeks and we’ll have all the time in the world. A two-week honeymoon in my aunt’s cottage on the Gower followed by a lifetime. We could even have a little more now, if you took Sali’s advice, handed in your notice to Mrs Williams and moved into Ynysangharad House.’

  ‘I told Mrs Williams that I would work until the twenty-sixth of this month and I will,’ she countered firmly.

  ‘That will only give you five days to prepare for the wedding,’ he warned with mock solemnity.

  ‘You know Sali and I have everything in hand.’

  ‘There’s always last-minute panics with a wedding,’ he pronounced authoritatively.

  ‘And how would you know that?’

  ‘I was at my brothers’.’

  ‘So was I, and everything went smoothly.’

  ‘They both married in the register office. We’re marrying in church.’

  ‘And everything is ordered, booked and sorted. If I gave up work any earlier I’d have nothing to do except sit around Ynysangharad House and annoy Sali.’

  ‘You could never annoy anyone.’ He bent his head and dropped a kiss on to the nape of her neck below her upswept hair. ‘You said that Mrs Williams has already engaged your replacement.’

  ‘She doesn’t start until Friday and she’ll need training in the mistress’s ways.’ Rhian stopped when they reached the summit of the mountain and looked down. Distance and sunlight lent enchantment to the living map spread out below them. The river sparkled as it wound its way over the floor of the valley and she reflected that if she had only seen it from this distance she might have believed its blackened, filthy and debris-strewn waters to be clean.

  To her right the pithead gear of Pandy Colliery dwarfed the surrounding terraces. The banging of wagons being shunted in the sidings of the goods sheds echoed upwards, accompanied by the cries of a crowd of boys who were playing football with a stuffed haversack on the flattest area of mountain above the houses.

  The fine weather had enticed people out of their homes. The mountain was covered with miniature figures. Young girls holding hands and skipping behind groups of mothers, carrying babies Welsh-fashion. Colliers crouching in circles, smoking their pipes and, judging by the shouts she could hear even from that distance, arguing politics. Courting couples edging away from the crowds and heading upwards in search of privacy.

  ‘You sure I can’t persuade you to hand in your notice now?’ Joey dropped his arm to her waist. ‘I could visit Ynysangharad House every day after work.’

  ‘Even on a Thursday, Friday and Saturday when you close the store at ten o’clock?’

  ‘Sali has enough bedrooms. She’d let me stay over and we could breakfast together.’ He pulled her back, just over the brow of the hill where they couldn’t be seen, and kissed her long and thoroughly.

  She grew weak and began to tremble as she always did when he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her until their bodies meshed so close she could feel his heart beating against hers.

  He moved his head back, linked his arms around her waist and looked down into her eyes. ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you too.’ Her senses heightened by the passion he’d evoked, she breathed in the scents she had come to associate with him: Kay’s toilet soap, Cherry toothpaste, tobacco, the sweet, seductive almond aroma of the Macassar Oil he used on his hair.

  ‘Oh, hell!’ He stopped abruptly.

  ‘Something’s wrong?’

  ‘You may be about to become a virginal bride, but you can’t be that innocent. Have you any idea what you’ve just done to me?’

  She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at his crotch. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘So am I. It’s times like this that make me wish I hadn’t made you one particular promise.’

  ‘When you kiss and touch me the way you just did, so do I.’

  ‘It’s nice to know you’re suffering too.’ Keeping his distance, he bent his head and kissed the soft skin just below her ear. She clamped her hand over his when he reached for her breast and moved it away before he touched her. ‘The past four months have lasted f
or ever, but the next two and a half weeks are going to be an eternity,’ he complained.

  ‘For me too,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Do you mean that?’

  ‘You have no idea of the number of nights I have lain awake imagining that it’s you, not Bronwen, sleeping beside me. I can’t wait to be close to you every minute of every night and to wake in the mornings knowing that the first person I will see when I open my eyes will be you.’

  ‘Truly?’ he asked seriously.

  Deciding that as she had gone this far, she may as well confide the rest of her thoughts, she added, ‘And wondered what you look like without your clothes on because I’ve never seen a man naked.’

  ‘You had but to ask,’ he teased.

  ‘I was afraid of what it might lead to.’ She felt the colour flooding into her cheeks.

  ‘Afraid?’ He fell serious again.

  ‘Only because I don’t want to get pregnant before we’re married.’

  ‘The wedding is so close, it hardly matters now.’

  ‘I know,’ she whispered.

  Wary of pressurizing her, he said, ‘Unlike women, men aren’t beautiful without their clothes on. That’s why most artists paint female nudes,’ he added, forestalling any comment on his past.

  ‘I can’t wait for us to be married so we can make love without worrying about having a baby because our baby would be a blessing like Victor and Megan’s twins. But most of all I want to touch you the way you touch me and find out what it will be like when we do go to bed together for the first time.’

  ‘It will be wonderful – if we’re not too tired after our wedding and travelling down to Gower,’ he added wryly.

  ‘Joey …’ she faltered and fell silent.

  ‘Yes?’ He sensed what she was about to say.

  ‘With the wedding so close we don’t have to wait any longer.’

  She had spoken so low he wondered if he had dreamed her reply. He said the first thing that came into his head. ‘We have tickets to see Chung Ling Soo in the New Theatre.’

  ‘If you’d prefer to see the show –’