Morgan nodded ungraciously, realising that once again he had been outmanoeuvred. ‘Would you like some tea?’
‘No, but thank you for offering, Morgan.’ Edyth glanced at the watch she had pinned to her lapel, as much to alert him to the fact that she had been in the house a full ten minutes before he had offered her refreshment, as to check the time.
‘You must forgive Sali for being tardy, she is with her mother.’
‘And how is Gwyneth these days?’
‘Frail, she suffers a great deal.’
‘She might find fresh air beneficial.’
‘The doctor has warned that the slightest exertion could have an adverse effect.’
‘Sali,’ Edyth beamed, as Sali walked into the room dressed in her coat and hat. ‘Ready for a full day’s shopping?’
‘Yes, Aunt Edyth.’ Sali returned her aunt’s smile.
‘I thought you had ordered everything you needed on your last shopping trip, Sali.’
‘Not everything, Morgan.’ Edyth rose to her feet. ‘We haven’t even looked at accessories yet. And Sali is booked in for final fittings with the dressmaker. Afterwards, I’ve arranged for us to see china and silver patterns.’
‘Have either of you given a thought as to how these extravagances are to be paid for? Sali has her allowance but –’
‘There is no need for you to concern yourself about the cost, Morgan,’ Edyth countered blithely, as Sali opened the door for her. ‘Sali’s wedding dress and trousseau will be my wedding present to her, and her household linen, china and silver my wedding present to Mansel.’
‘I still think they should consider postponing the wedding for at least another six months.’
‘We have discussed your proposal that they do so, at length, and dismissed it, Morgan. When can I see Gwyneth?’ she enquired, as he followed them into the hall.
‘She is in no condition to receive visitors.’
‘Time is pressing. We need to discuss the wedding arrangements. Thank you, Tomas.’ Edyth took the gloves and cape the butler handed her.
‘Gwyneth is in no condition to arrange anything. Any pressure, mental or physical, could prove extremely dangerous.’
‘Quite,’ Edyth agreed, fully aware that she was irritating Morgan. ‘And that is why I think Sali should be married from Ynysangharad House.’
‘Sali can hardly marry from the same house her bridegroom is living in.’
‘Which is why Mansel is moving into rooms above the department store.’
‘It is a preposterous idea.’
‘Don’t you think I’m a suitable chaperone for Sali, Morgan?’
‘This is her home. Her mother needs her.’
‘And when Sali marries, Gwyneth, like all mothers before her, will have to learn to live without her child. But don’t worry, Morgan, when Sali moves in with me, we will both visit Gwyneth as frequently as her health will allow and, who knows, having something to look forward to may be good for her.’ She handed her cape to Sali so she could drape it around her shoulders. ‘As Gwyneth is too ill to receive me, will you discuss my offer to host the wedding with her as a matter of urgency? As Sali’s closest female relation after her mother and sister, Mr Richards thinks I would make an eminently suitable hostess for the wedding, but we really do need to send out the invitations next week.’
‘You have talked this over with Mr Richards?’
‘I would never make plans without consulting and gaining the approval of the family solicitor. Come along, Sali, we don’t want to keep Miss Collins waiting. Good morning to you, Morgan.’
‘That’s put Uncle Morgan in a foul mood for the rest of the day,’ Sali observed, settling herself in her aunt’s carriage.
Edyth lifted her cane and rapped on the roof. ‘Then it’s just as well you won’t be returning home until bedtime. Now, I suggest we forget Morgan and concentrate on the task in hand.’ Her smile broadened. ‘Serious shopping.’
‘Is my dress ready?’
‘As ready as any dress before a final fitting.’
‘Then you’ve seen it?’ Sali’s face shone with excitement.
‘Yesterday afternoon, and before you ask, Miss Collins has been careful to keep it out of Mansel’s sight.’
‘And?’ Sali pleaded.
‘I don’t want to spoil your surprise.’
Mansel stepped in front of the doorman as his aunt’s carriage drew up outside the Market Street entrance to Gwilym James. It would have been a sizeable store in Cardiff; in Pontypridd, it had revolutionised the shopping habits of those who could afford to patronise its well-stocked clothing and household departments. An electric lift carried shoppers and stock between the four shopping floors and attic stockroom. An automated cash system whizzed capsules containing money around the store and over the heads of its patrons, to the delight of children. And the staff, trained, disciplined and closely supervised by Mr Horton, who had managed the store during the years between Gwilym James’s death and Mansel’s coming of age, and stayed on to assist Mansel, were the epitome of courteous deference.
‘Aunt Edyth.’ Mansel opened the carriage door, folded down the steps and offered her his hand as he helped her to the pavement. ‘Miss Watkin Jones.’ A wink belied his formal greeting.
‘Mr James, how are you?’ Sali made an effort to forget her mother and uncle’s fault-finding and the loss of her father’s colliery, and smiled at him.
‘All the better for seeing you, Miss Watkin Jones. Miss Collins and her staff are waiting for you in the fitting room. After you have finished your morning’s shopping I hope you’ll both join me in the upstairs rooms for lunch.’
‘You’ve finished refurbishing them?’ Edyth asked.
‘The decorators left yesterday so I can move in any time. I don’t know why I didn’t think of renovating them before. We could have saved the cost of a nightwatchman if a member of staff had lived in.’ Mansel held open the door.
Edyth nodded acknowledgements to the floorwalkers as she entered the store. ‘What time do you intend lunching?’
‘I thought about half past twelve, but as the meal is cold apart from the soup, it really doesn’t matter.’
‘Half past twelve sounds fine, however, Sali and I are dependent on Miss Collins.’ Edyth headed for the lift.
‘Good morning, Mrs James, Miss Watkin Jones.’ Mr Horton stationed himself next to the lift cage.
‘And good morning to you, Mr Horton,’ Edyth greeted him warmly. ‘How is Mrs Horton?’
‘Sadly ailing, Mrs James, but thank you for asking.’ He held out an envelope. ‘Your butler redirected a letter from your house.’
Edyth took it and pushed it into her handbag. ‘Thank you, Mr Horton.’
‘I’ve arranged for a china and silverware showing for you and Miss Watkin Jones in one of our private rooms, Mrs James.’
‘That was thoughtful, Mr Horton, but Sali and I can manage on the shop floor.’ Edyth took Sali’s arm as they entered the lift. ‘I meant it when I said we had some serious shopping to do and it will take for ever if we wait for the assistants to carry everything through to a private room,’ she whispered, as the boy closed the cage.
White silk gleamed beneath fairy-tale weavings of the feather-light, starched, antique Bruges lace that covered the bodice of Sali’s gown from the high-necked collar to the pointed triangle that ended an inch below her natural waistline. Long sleeves clung, a second skin on her upper arms that frothed out in cascades of lace worked to the same pattern as the bodice, layering the lower sleeves from her elbow to the base of Sali’s thumbs. The slimline, satin skirt covered in a single layer of lace, swept down, foaming into a mass of ruffles on the hem and short train. Lifting the train by the fine white cord attached for the purpose, Sali spun slowly before the cheval mirror. After four and a half months of full mourning, the dress seemed blindingly, surreally beautiful.
‘The hat and veil.’ Miss Collins snapped her fingers at her assistant. ‘As you see, Miss Watkin Jones, Mrs Ja
mes, I’ve used the same lace to trim the hat and make the veil.’
Sali continued to stare at herself in the mirror as the dressmaker pinned on the white, broad-brimmed hat trimmed with frills of lace and white and cream silk rosebuds.
‘Before the ceremony,’ Miss Collins covered Sali’s face with the veil, ‘and,’ she deftly swept the lace away from Sali’s face and over the crown of the hat, ‘after.’
‘What do you think, Sali?’ Edyth asked.
Sali’s eyes misted over. ‘It’s beautiful but ...’
‘Your father would not have wanted you to wear mourning on your wedding day,’ Edyth declared resolutely.
Overcome with emotion, Sali turned aside.
Edyth turned to the dressmaker. ‘This dress is exactly right, Miss Collins, understated yet elegant. It would not look out of place at court. Once the town sees it, you will be hard-pressed to fill the orders that will flood in. Every bride in Pontypridd will be clamouring to buy one of your creations.’
‘Thank you, Mrs James.’ The dressmaker glowed at the compliment as she helped Sali unbutton the dress.
‘Thank you, Miss Collins, and not only for my wedding dress,’ Sali added. ‘The morning, afternoon and evening gowns are beautiful.’
‘It is a pity they all had to be black or grey, Miss Watkin Jones.’
‘I am sure Miss Watkin Jones, or Mrs James as she soon will be, will return to order more gowns as soon as she is out of mourning, Miss Collins.’ Edyth glanced at her watch as she rose to her feet. ‘Would you please arrange for the accessories Miss Watkin Jones has chosen, her trousseau and wedding dress to be delivered to Ynysangharad House this afternoon and send a message to Mr Horton to tell him that we will be leaving the choosing of Mr James’s and Miss Watkin Jones’s china and silverware until this afternoon? Mr James is expecting us to join him upstairs for lunch.’
‘Certainly, Mrs James.’
Remembering her letter, Edyth removed it from her bag as the dressmaker helped Sali to change back into her walking suit.
‘Bad news?’ Sali asked, as Edyth frowned.
‘Inconvenient.’ Edyth pushed the letter into her pocket. ‘Miss Collins, thank you again.’
‘My pleasure, Mrs James, Miss Watkin Jones.’ Miss Collins opened the door of the fitting room and bobbed a curtsy, as they headed for the lift.
Chapter Five
‘Harry would have been proud of you for going ahead with your wedding exactly as planned, Sali,’ Edyth assured her, as they left the lift on the attic floor and walked past the stock rooms.
‘You don’t think I am being disrespectful to his memory?’
‘On the contrary, I think you are being brave in adhering to his wishes. You don’t need me to tell you how delighted your father was when you told him you wanted to marry Mansel.’ As Sali brushed a tear from her eye, Edyth murmured, ‘Have Morgan and your mother been giving you a harder time than usual?’
‘Not really ... but ...’
‘They’ve been trying to persuade you to observe a full year of mourning.’
‘Two.’
Edyth grasped her hand. ‘Only another six weeks to go. Be strong.’ She opened the door in front of her. ‘Mansel has transformed this room. The last time I was here it was as dark and dingy as a chapel vestry.’
‘It’s light and airy now.’ Sali followed her aunt into a large, comfortable drawing room papered in cream and white striped paper. The green plush-upholstered sofa and chairs were old-fashioned and heavy, as were the round table, upright chairs, and the Turkish rug on the floor was a dismal shade of green, but the scale of the room was forgiving enough to accommodate the furnishings.
‘It smells of paint.’ Edyth wrinkled her nose as she inspected the skirting boards and fire surround. Both had been painted cream to complement the wallpaper. ‘No one has lived here since Mr Lewis retired six months before Mansel took over. When Mansel was in school, he often talked about moving in here himself and living the high bachelor life, but then,’ Edyth gave Sali a sly look, ‘that was before you accepted his proposal.’
Sali moved to the window and looked down over Market Square. ‘You can see the whole street from here.’
‘And Taff Street, the river and the fields around Ynysangharad House from the window on the other side.’
Sali crossed the room. ‘I wonder why Mansel never suggested that we move in here?’
‘Probably because I told him what it was like when Mr James and I began our married life here.’ Edyth unpinned her hat. ‘Despite all the builder’s promises our house wasn’t ready, so we lived here for four months when we returned to Pontypridd after our honeymoon, and in all that time we never had a moment’s peace. Even when Mr James gave the staff direct orders not to disturb him, there was always something that needed his personal attention. An important customer demanding that he and no one else wait on them, a wrong delivery that needed sorting, or an errant assistant to reprimand. And if it wasn’t this store, it was the Market Company, the bakery, or one of his provision stores. Believe me, comfortable as these rooms may be, you and Mansel will be better off living in Ynysangharad House.’
‘I am sure you are right.’ Sali helped her aunt to remove her cape and hung it together with her hat on a stand next to the door.
‘But, saying that, despite the constant interruptions, we were happy during the short time we lived here.’ Edyth looked inward as memories flooded back. ‘However, I wouldn’t have been for long. No window or view is an adequate substitute for a garden. Shall we look at what Mansel has done to the rest of the rooms?’
Sali arranged her own hat and coat on the stand before opening a set of double doors to her left. They entered a dining room hung with the same paper as the drawing room and furnished with similar, old-fashioned, sturdy pieces, designed more for comfort than elegance. Three place settings had been laid at a square table that dominated the centre of the room. A vast sideboard filled half the remaining space. On it were a spirit-fuelled chafing dish from which emanated an appetising aroma of leek and potato soup, baskets of bread rolls and butter pats, a selection of cold meats, chutneys, pickles and mustards, a cold vegetable salad, an apple tart, a bowl of clotted cream and a drinks tray holding bottles of sherry, whisky and brandy.
‘Your Uncle Morgan would disapprove of you eating here if he could see that,’ Edyth indicated the tray. ‘There’s a kitchen, through the inner hall.’ She led Sali through a second set of double doors into a tiny, dark vestibule walled by four doors. Unlike the drawing and dining rooms, the kitchen was small. It held a Belfast sink, miniature range, a coal bucket and single cupboard. A scarred pine work table stood in the centre of the room.
‘Bedroom.’ Edyth opened another door and they glanced into a dark room that had also been newly papered, this time in pale grey. An enormous four-poster, hung with red curtains and covered with a matching bedspread, stood beside a wardrobe that filled an entire wall. The gloom was due to a massive dressing table that had been placed before the only window and blocked out most of the light.
‘Bathroom.’ Edyth looked into a room scarcely larger than a cupboard that held a washstand, slipper bath, cabinet lavatory, slop pails and four huge jugs of water. ‘Mansel really must see about extending the plumbing to this floor. I don’t envy whoever has to carry those pails downstairs. Be careful of the walls if you come in here, Sali. I remember that green distemper; it used to rub off on my clothes.’
‘Everything looks fresh and clean,’ Sali said, as they returned to the dining room.
‘Apart from the furniture.’ Edyth smiled at the confused expression on Sali’s face. ‘It is all right to criticise. I didn’t furnish this place; my mother-in-law did. Fifty years ago it was probably the height of fashion, but thankfully tastes have changed. I am glad Mansel’s spared no expense in redecorating. It would be a pity to allow the rooms to decay. I haven’t been up here for a couple of years but as I recall, the wallpaper was a rather dismal brown in all the rooms the l
ast time I was here. It might be as well if he replaced the furniture as well.’ She gave a wicked smile as she glanced at the sideboard. ‘How about a small sherry before lunch?’
Sali thought of her Uncle Morgan. ‘I’d love one.’
‘Given your mother’s state of health, if there’s anything you’re unsure of, or anything you want to know about married life you can ask me,’ Edyth offered, as they sat companionably either side of the fireplace in the drawing room. Although it was a warm day, a fire burnt cheerfully in the grate. More cheerfully than at home, Sali observed, recalling her uncle’s latest edict to Mari to cut coal consumption. A ludicrous order given that until that morning, they could have ordered all the coal they needed from the family colliery at no cost to the household budget.
‘You know Mother is finding it difficult to accept that I am about to be married.’
‘Yes.’ Edyth set her sherry glass in the hearth. ‘Please, don’t take this the wrong way, Sali, but you do want to marry Mansel, don’t you? It’s not just something that you are doing simply to break free from your mother and uncle?’
‘Of course I want to marry him,’ Sali protested earnestly.
‘Married life does take a lot of adjusting to,’ Edyth mused, ‘But the rewards of a successful marriage more than make up for any sacrifices. Your uncle and I were very happy.’
‘You always seemed to be whenever we visited,’ Sali concurred.
‘That’s not to say we didn’t argue, especially at first. I remember quarrelling with him on our honeymoon in Swansea. I stormed out of the hotel and spent an hour searching for somewhere respectable to hide, in the hope that he’d worry about me.’
‘What did you quarrel about?’ Sali sipped her sherry. After months of abstinence it brought an unexpected warm and cheering glow.
Edyth frowned. ‘Do you know, I don’t even remember ... Yes, I do – he accused me of putting too much milk in his tea at breakfast. I was mortified that he’d dared to criticise anything I did.’
‘And where did you go?’
‘I caught the train to Mumbles and walked around Oystermouth Castle for four hours. It was very cold and damp.’
Beggars and Choosers Page 8
