‘Those are yours now,’ Sali said.
‘Mine or Gareth’s,’ Geraint amended. ‘We can hardly take them to school.’
‘Your uncle asked me to collect and take your father’s watches, chains, cigarette and cigar cases and personal jewellery to the library.’ Mari smoothed out the creases of one of her late master’s silk evening shirts as she folded it into the trunk.
‘For Mr Richards to distribute?’ Geraint asked.
‘He didn’t say,’ Mari replied tersely.
Geraint left the bed. ‘The next four and a half years are going to last for ever.’
‘Not quite.’ Sali rose to her feet and rested her hand on his shoulder. ‘After Mansel and I marry in June, I’ll be moving into Aunt Edyth’s house. We settled it at Christmas. We will have our own sitting and dining rooms, not that we’ll need them, because I can’t imagine Aunt Edyth ever interfering.’
‘Perhaps your aunt remembers what it’s like to be newly married and doesn’t want to get in the way when you and Mr James start throwing things at one another,’ Mari commented, with a faint trace of her old sense of humour.
‘Mr James and I will never throw things at one another,’ Sali replied confidently.
‘I’ll talk to you again after you have been married a month, Miss Sali.’
Sali took Geraint’s hand and pulled him back down on to the bed. ‘Mansel and I won’t be quarrelling, and you, Gareth and Llinos will be welcome to spend as much time with us as you like. Stay every holiday ...’
‘You’ve already asked Mansel and Aunt Edyth?’ Geraint enquired eagerly.
‘Not yet, but I intend to tonight and you know Mansel and Aunt Edyth. They’ll be delighted to have all of us.’
As Mari continued to pack she didn’t have the heart to remind Sali and Geraint that until Geraint was twenty-one, he, Gareth and Llinos would have to ask their uncle’s permission to stay even one night away from school or home.
‘Goodnight, sleep tight, both of you.’ Sali kissed Llinos and almost managed to hug Gareth before he dived away from her and ran ahead of Mari and Llinos up the stairs.
‘You’ll be in to kiss me goodnight, Sali?’ Llinos called back.
‘I promise. You too, Gareth.’
‘I’m too old for kisses,’ he retorted, evincing the hostile attitude he had adopted since he had been told of his father’s death.
‘Then I’ll shake hands goodnight, Gareth,’ Sali replied softly. She left the hall and joined Edyth in the drawing room where Mari had set out the tea tray.
‘My compliments, Sali, that was very good lamb.’ Edyth sat on the sofa and held her hands out to the fire.
‘I can’t take any credit, Aunt Edyth. Mari says the quality of the meat is down to the care that’s taken when it’s hung and not even Cook dares to interfere with Mari’s organisation of the pantries.’ Sali joined her aunt on the sofa and picked up the teapot.
‘It was an excellent dinner and, without minimising the work you put into it, proof that Mari is more than capable of running this house.’
‘You know?’ Sali spooned two sugars into her aunt’s cup, stirred it and handed it to her.
‘About your uncle’s insistence that you give up college, yes,’ Edyth confirmed. ‘Mr Richards called on me before returning to his office this morning. Would you like me to talk to Morgan?’
‘It is kind of you to offer, but it wouldn’t do any good.’
‘I could appeal to your mother.’
‘Geraint tried. All he succeeded in doing was getting a lecture from Uncle Morgan, who has forbidden any of us to enter her room without his permission.’
‘Now she won’t see her own children! That is ridiculous!’ Edyth exclaimed with uncharacteristic anger. ‘Your father’s single fault was that he was too soft with Gwyneth. Your mother needs a good shaking.’ Edyth remembered she was in a house of mourning. ‘I am sorry,’ she apologised. ‘I had no right to say that. Harry’s hardly cold in his grave and here I am criticising him, and to you of all people.’
‘Please don’t stop saying exactly what you mean to me.’ Sali set her own cup next to her aunt’s on the table. ‘At the moment, it feels as though you and Mansel are the only allies I have left apart from Geraint. Llinos and Gareth are too young and upset to understand most of what is going on and when Geraint and Gareth leave for Monmouth on Monday, I’ll be alone apart from Llinos. And Uncle Morgan intends to send her away as soon as he can find a suitable boarding school.’
‘So Mr Richards told me.’ Edyth laid her withered hand over Sali’s. ‘But you won’t be alone, not while Mansel and I are close by, and you have Mari and Tomas.’
‘Whom Uncle Morgan has threatened to dismiss if they so much as put a foot wrong. And he means it,’ she added. ‘He has given more than half the staff a week’s pay in lieu of notice.’
‘You will only be here until June,’ Edyth reminded.
‘If Uncle Morgan allows me to marry Mansel.’
‘He can’t stop you. That is not to say he won’t try,’ Edyth warned, ‘but if you are strong enough to stand up to him, Sali, you and Mansel will be man and wife six months from now. I promise you.’
‘You didn’t see my uncle’s face when Mr Richards told him Father had already agreed to the arrangements and that I would be able to marry without the permission of my guardians after my birthday in June.’ Sali started nervously as the door opened behind them.
‘You gentlemen didn’t linger long over your port and brandy,’ Edyth observed, regaining her composure sooner than Sali.
‘An after-dinner tradition that has been put into abeyance while I reside here, Mrs James,’ Morgan pronounced sternly. ‘You know my views on strong drink.’
‘Indeed I do, Morgan.’ Apart from his close relatives, Edyth James was the only woman in Pontypridd who dared to address Morgan Davies by his Christian name. But then she remembered Morgan as a runny-nosed child in nappies and enjoyed regaling anyone who held him in awe with tales of his boyhood misdemeanours.
‘I have informed Tomas that this evening is the last time wine will be served in this house.’
‘Until I come of age, Uncle Morgan,’ Geraint amended.
‘By then I trust that you will have learned to respect the teachings of the Christian faith.’
‘Wine is mentioned in the Bible, Morgan. Didn’t Christ himself turn water into wine when there wasn’t sufficient refreshment to serve at a wedding reception?’ Edyth enquired coolly, as if she didn’t already know the answer to her question.
‘Tea, Mr Richards? Mr James? Uncle Morgan? Geraint?’ Sali asked in an attempt to diffuse the tension, but as she poured tea and milk, spooned sugar and passed cups, the strained atmosphere grew even more palpable.
‘Have you had time to look over the marriage settlement, Mr Richards?’ Mansel gave Sali a sly wink as she handed him his cup.
‘Yes, like Mr Watkin Jones’s will, it is quite straightforward.’ Eager to discuss business, the solicitor became quite animated, Sali suspected because as soon as his contribution to the evening was over, he could leave. ‘The marriage can take place after Miss Watkin Jones qualifies, or on, or after, her twenty-first birthday. And as soon as the marriage takes place, the settlement is to be paid.’
‘A wedding is out of the question until Sali has observed mourning for her father. A full year is considered the minimum for a parent. Personally, I think it should be two.’
‘Harry would not have wanted Mansel and Sali to wait any longer than June, Morgan.’ Edyth deliberately softened and lowered her voice.
‘He would have been concerned with appearances, Mrs James,’ Morgan snapped acidly.
‘Harry was always more concerned with right than appearances, and considered the happiness of his children paramount.’ Edyth eyed Morgan over the rim of her cup as she sipped her tea.
‘Nevertheless, I think people will, quite rightly, be shocked if Sali dons a bridal gown before the year is out.’
‘The
n perhaps she should consider marrying in black,’ Edyth suggested.
‘That is a preposterous idea,’ Morgan spluttered.
‘If she did, she wouldn’t be the first bride in Pontypridd to marry in full mourning.’
‘No respectable woman –’
‘You don’t consider Mrs John Edwards respectable?’ Edyth questioned artfully, referring to one of the town’s oldest – and leading matrons.
‘Of course.’
‘Then you can have no objection to Sali marrying in black.’ Edyth turned smoothly to Sali. ‘Given the state of your mother’s health, I would be happy to help you select your trousseau and bridal clothes. We have six excellent dressmakers under contract to the store. But if you prefer, we could go to Howell’s in Cardiff.’
‘I would prefer to shop in Gwilym James in Pontypridd, Aunt Edyth.’ Taking comfort from Mansel’s conspiratorial glance, the only thing that prevented Sali from smiling, was the relentless, heart-wrenching pain of her father’s death. She did have allies besides Geraint and Mansel after all. And Aunt Edyth, seventy-five years old and so frail she looked as though a strong wind would topple her tiny, wizened frame, was standing up to her Uncle Morgan – and succeeding in overriding his opinions, when everyone else had failed.
‘I will ensure that our most capable assistants wait on you.’ Mansel opened his cigarette case and offered it to Geraint and Mr Richards before braving Morgan’s surly refusal.
‘Do you really think it necessary for Sali to marry in black, Uncle Morgan?’ Geraint leaned towards Mansel as he struck a Lucifer.
‘If I had my way, she would not be marrying until she had completed two years mourning,’ he thundered. ‘But as all of you, including Sali, seem to be hell bent on flouting Christian propriety, it appears my opinion counts for nothing.’
‘Not at all, Morgan,’ Edyth soothed. ‘We value your opinion immensely, and I sincerely hope that, on the day, you will set your disapproval aside long enough to marry the happy couple.’
‘It was only a dream, you’re safe now, darling.’ Wrapping her Welsh flannel robe closer against the chill of her sister’s bedroom, Sali smoothed Llinos’s hair away from her face as she sat on her bed.
‘Why did Father have to die?’ Llinos sobbed. ‘Why couldn’t God take someone else? Rhiannon Davies in my class in school hates her father.’
‘Hush, darling, you mustn’t say such things.’ Sali curled up on the pillows and pulled Llinos’s head down on to her chest.
‘Uncle Morgan said it’s God’s will that Father was taken. If that’s right, I hate God! And I hate Uncle Morgan!’
‘Llinos, you don’t know what you’re saying.’
‘Yes, I do,’ Llinos contradicted rebelliously. ‘And I won’t go away to school whatever Uncle Morgan says. All my friends are in Pontypridd. You are here and Mari’s here and you’re the only ones left who love me now Father’s gone. I won’t go away. I won’t!’ she screamed as her grief boiled into hysteria.
‘Please, darling, don’t upset yourself,’ Sali pleaded, but her own tears fell on to her sister’s cheeks.
Llinos tightened her arms around Sali’s waist. ‘Can I live with you and Mansel after you marry?’
‘You know Mansel and I would love to have you, darling,’ Sali assured her, ‘but it wouldn’t be our decision. Mr Richards and Uncle Morgan are your guardians. We’d have to ask their permission.’
‘And Uncle Morgan is a mean old crabby face who wouldn’t give it.’
A floorboard creaked on the landing outside Llinos’s door and a sharp rap was followed by, ‘Sali, are you in there?’
‘Yes, Uncle Morgan,’ Sali answered through gritted teeth.
‘It is after eleven o’clock.’
‘Llinos had a nightmare.’
‘That is no reason to wake your mother and set the entire house in uproar. Return to your room at once.’
‘You’ll be all right now?’ Sali whispered to Llinos.
Llinos nodded, before pulling the bedclothes over her head.
‘Sali!’
‘Coming, Uncle Morgan.’ Sali turned Llinos’s lamp down, picked up her own and dropped a kiss on the crown of her sister’s head, all that could be seen above the sheet.
Morgan was standing on the galleried landing, lamp in hand, a striped flannel nightshirt flapping around his bony ankles, his feet encased in beaded, backless slippers. He had thrown a robe over his shirt but he hadn’t fastened it, and his neck, with its prominent Adam’s apple, rose, long, loose-skinned and scrawny, from his pasty chest, reminding Sali of a chicken’s after it had been plucked. As he stared at her, she instinctively wrapped her robe even closer to her shivering body.
‘Your noise woke your mother and me.’
‘I am sorry, Uncle Morgan, but Llinos had a nightmare.’
‘That girl has been spoiled and pampered. She has learned how to get whatever she wants by shouting at all hours of the day and night. I’ll have no more of it. I’ll start looking for a school first thing on Monday. A school that places emphasis on self-control and discipline.’
‘Is anything the matter?’ Geraint opened his door and joined them in his pyjamas.
‘The noise your sisters are making,’ Morgan replied abruptly. ‘And that is no excuse for you to walk around half naked,’ he rebuked, tightening the belt on his woollen dressing gown, which considering his profession, was an incongruous, cheerful crimson.
‘If that was Llinos crying, she has been having nightmares ever since Father was killed,’ Geraint explained.
‘That still doesn’t give her the right to wake the entire house. Geraint, return to your room. Sali, go down to the kitchens and make tea. A weak cup with plenty of sugar and milk for your mother, a stronger one for me.’
‘Let Miss Sali see to Miss Llinos, Mr Davies, sir. I will make the tea.’ Mari, her long, grey hair plaited over one shoulder, a shawl thrown over her nightdress and robe, was standing in the arched doorway that connected the servants’ passageways with the main house.
‘Llinos is to be left alone. Any more mollycoddling and she’ll never learn to sleep through the night.’ Morgan glared at the housekeeper. ‘And you, Mrs Williams, will not venture on to the family floor again except to check that the maid has done her work, or to clean the rooms yourself and never at night. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I will expect you alert and prepared to assume your duties at the usual hour.’
‘Sir.’ Mari bobbed a curtsy and retreated along the landing, closing the connecting door behind her.
‘Tea, Sali,’ Morgan reminded.
‘I’ll get my slippers, it’s cold in the kitchens.’
‘I am disappointed to see that you left your room in bare feet and risked picking up a splinter. If your foot becomes infected you will be absolutely no use to your mother. It is time you started thinking of others, girl.’
‘Llinos was crying.’ Sali fought a tide of misery that threatened to engulf her. Her father had always been the first to leave his bed if any of them woke in the night. She recalled the smell of his cologne, the feel of his arms around her, warm, comforting and reassuring, as she sipped the cocoa Mari made whenever one of them had a nightmare, and the serious look on his face as he had listened to stories of bogey monsters that had disturbed their sleep. She remembered the grave attitude he had adopted when he searched their wardrobes and the spaces beneath their beds to make sure that the beasts had been well and truly chased away.
Her sister might be too old for bogey monsters, but she sensed Llinos’s imagination, like her own, was all too adept at picturing the burial ground behind Penuel Chapel and the tomb where her father lay.
‘Are you being deliberately obdurate, girl?’
Sali set aside her memories. ‘No, Uncle. I’ll get my slippers now.’
Chapter Four
The hotplate had been opened on the range and a milk pan and copper kettle were already gently steaming when Sali reached the
kitchen.
‘Uncle Morgan told you not to come down, Mari.’
Mari held her finger to her lips. ‘Then we’d best whisper in case he followed you.’
‘He could sack you, and Llinos and I and the boys couldn’t cope without you,’ Sali pleaded.
‘I have been making tea for the mistress every time she’s had one of her funny turns in the night for the last twenty-one years and I’m not about to stop now. If your uncle asks, he and the mistress are not the only ones who can’t sleep, and as housekeeper I’m entitled to a cup of tea to help me rest.’ Mari set an embroidered cloth on a japanned tray and laid out a Coalport porcelain breakfast set of teapot, cups, saucers, jug and sugar bowl. ‘I had a few minutes’ start on you, so he won’t be expecting you yet. Make the most of it.’ She poured warm milk into a cup and stirred it. ‘Cocoa, just the way you like it.’ She handed it to Sali together with a tin of Huntley and Palmer biscuits.
‘I am sorry about the maids, footmen and stable boys being given notice, especially Robert,’ Sali added. ‘He must hate us. He’s been with us since he was twelve years old.’
‘None of them blames you for it, Miss Sali. They know exactly what’s going on in this house.’
‘Which is more than I do,’ Sali mused gloomily. ‘My uncle only informs us of his decisions after he’s made them.’ Taking her cocoa, she sat in the rocking chair next to the hearth. As the kettle began to boil, she handed Mari a blue and gold tin tea caddy from the shelf next to her. It was battered and scratched and bore the words Lipton – tea, coffee & cocoa planter. Tea merchant by special appointment to Her Majesty the Queen although the Queen had been dead for four years. ‘We ought to replace this with a tin that says by special appointment to His Majesty the King.’
‘The way your uncle has tightened the purse strings we won’t be replacing anything in this house for quite a while,’ Mari observed abruptly. ‘There, I’ve half-filled your mother’s cup with hot water, all you have to do is pour in the milk and top it up with tea until it’s a sickly shade of pale mushroom. Then you can take the tray in to your uncle.’
‘Thank you, Mari.’ Sali finished her cocoa, left her chair and kissed the housekeeper.
Beggars and Choosers Page 6
