Winners and Losers

by Catrin Collier

  ‘Don’t!’ she protested, as he pulled her hat from her head and the pins from her hair. ‘Mrs Hopkins was standing at her window when we walked up the street. You know what she’s like. She could call in just to check what we’re doing.’

  ‘She wouldn’t dare.’

  Megan tried to wriggle free but it was hopeless. The more she struggled the more Victor tightened his grip. ‘Victor ...’ She dissolved into laughter when he tickled her.

  ‘Shall I make another bed down here?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘Then it will have to be my bedroom, that is, unless you don’t want to?’

  Blood flowed, hot, burning, into her cheeks, but she forced herself to look into his grey eyes. They were tender and so very loving. ‘I ... I want to,’ she said softly. ‘Does that make me shameless?’

  ‘Definitely.’ He shifted her weight in his arms so he could open the door. ‘But then, I’ve discovered that I love my woman shameless.’

  Joey wandered aimlessly along Dunraven Street. The light was fading and as the cold spring sun sank over the hills it took what little warmth it had brought to the valley with it. The temperature dropped, but he was scarcely aware of it as he lingered in front of shop windows that had been reduced to displaying the absolute essentials. He stared at a barrel of lamp oil, incensed at the choice he had to make. Either he took Victor’s money or went to prison. Much as he hated the thought of being beholden to Victor, he balked at the prospect of prison more.

  ‘Joey?’

  He glanced across the road and saw Rhian with two other maids from Llan House, Meriel and Bronwen. They were standing, obviously waiting for him to join them. Keeping his hands in his pocket, he sauntered towards them.

  ‘I heard about what happened in court today, Joey, I’m sorry,’ Rhian sympathized, when he was within earshot.

  ‘I’m surprised you’re prepared to be seen in public with me, after what you said the last time I asked you out,’ he growled, irritated by what he took to be her pity.

  ‘Rhian, Bronwen and I are more than a match for you, Joey Evans,’ Meriel simpered. Joey wondered why attractive girls often had incredibly plain best friends. Meriel was so overweight her fat rippled when she moved, her mousy hair was greasy and her face was covered with angry red spots.

  Sensitive to the moods of those around her, Rhian realized Joey was depressed. ‘Meriel, Bronwen and I were just going to the teashop. Why don’t you join us?’

  ‘You’re not afraid to be seen with me?’ He knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn’t help himself.

  ‘You’re outnumbered three to one, it is still daylight and we’re going into a teashop. I think our reputations will survive.’ Rhian’s blue eyes sparkled and her whole face lit up when she smiled. Joey recalled something Betty Morgan had said to him last November, only five months ago yet it seemed a lifetime.

  ‘Go find yourself a good, clean-living girl. Preferably one who knows how to handle a boy with your wandering ways.’

  For the first time, he realized what the old woman had meant. To have a girl like Rhian smile exclusively at him made him feel special. He felt in his pocket. He had the shilling he kept back from his strike pay, and a cup of tea was only a penny. Given that he’d never get together enough money to pay his fine in a week, he may as well treat them and it might go some small way to rehabilitating his reputation. He’d heard the gossips were speculating that Jane Edwards’ sudden departure from Tonypandy had something to do with her visit to his house the night before.

  Either way, it certainly wouldn’t do any harm for him to be seen in a teashop with three respectable housemaids who were in the care of the formidable Mrs Williams, renowned throughout the Rhondda for keeping her girls ‘decent’.

  ‘If you’re going to the teashop anyway, can I buy you girls a cup of tea?’

  ‘Only if you let us buy you a penny bun.’ Meriel linked her arm into his. ‘No girl can afford to be indebted to Joey Evans and that’s if only half of the rumours flying around town about you are true.’

  ‘Probably all of them are –and more we don’t know about.’ Despite her condemnation, Rhian took Joey’s free arm. ‘A cup of tea it is, and if you’re very good and don’t make a single suggestive remark, we’ll even allow you to walk the three of us home.’

  ‘Mr Evans, could I have a word with you in the library about your investments?’ Mr Richards drew Lloyd aside after Mari and Sali went into the drawing room.

  Lloyd had long since sold all the investments Mr Richards had been handling for him to buy property, but he recalled the hurried conversation they’d had about Geraint and Mr Jenkins a few weeks earlier. ‘You run on ahead,’ he said to Harry, who was hanging back waiting for him. ‘I’ll join you and Mam in a moment.’

  The fire that blazed in the library hearth was as cheerful as the one in the hall. Lloyd knew there’d be others in the dining and drawing rooms as well as the nursery, bedrooms and servants’ quarters.

  ‘The coal that’s burned in this house in a day would keep our entire street supplied for a week,’ he commented.

  ‘This fire isn’t lit until late afternoon. Mr Geraint prefers to sit here in the evening than in the drawing room,’ Mr Richards explained.

  ‘While his sister freezes in the house of strikers,’ Lloyd said disparagingly. ‘I take it you want to speak to me about Sali’s brother and Mr Jenkins?’

  ‘Yes, but first please allow me to extend my sincere sympathy to you and your father. The accident was dreadful. And I was so sorry to hear of your father’s injuries. I trust he is making a recovery.’

  ‘A slow one, Mr Richards, but the doctors have told us that he will be able to leave hospital next month.’

  ‘I am glad to hear it. If there is anything that I can do ...’

  ‘As my father was on Union business, the miners’ welfare fund is paying his doctors’ and hospital bills, temporarily, until compensation can be sorted out with the railway company.’

  ‘You will convey my good wishes to him for a speedy recovery.’

  ‘I will, Mr Richards. About Geraint,’ Lloyd continued impatiently, ‘you’ve spoken to him?’

  ‘No, but Mr Jenkins made an appointment to see me. He was concerned about some of the things Mr Geraint had been saying to him and he wanted to know if Mr Geraint had grounds to challenge Mrs James’ will.’

  ‘Has he?’

  ‘None whatsoever. The will was properly drawn up by myself, and signed and witnessed by Mrs James’ doctor and Doctor Green, the headmaster of Cardiff Grammar School. He was a close friend of the late Mr James as well as Mrs James and happened to call to enquire after her health on the day the will was ready for signing.’

  ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘That rather depends on you and Mrs Evans, Mr Evans. I have not spoken to Mr Geraint about the matter and apart from refusing to sign the document Mr Geraint wished him to, neither has Mr Jenkins. As Mr Geraint appears to have dropped the matter, I thought it might be prudent if we did the same.’

  ‘If he knows we are aware that he tried to challenge Mrs James’ will, and had no grounds for doing so, he might make life easier for Sali. Particularly at the trustees’ meetings.’

  ‘He might,’ Mr Richards agreed. ‘But if I might caution you, he might not, so don’t be too hasty in anything you say or do. Mr Geraint’s place on the board of trustees is assured while he remains one of the three senior members of the staff of Gwilym James. And while he sits on the board, he can make life extremely awkward for Mrs Evans.’

  ‘Not for much longer if I can help it,’ Lloyd muttered as he opened the door to the hall.

  ‘Mr Evans?’

  ‘Just talking to myself, Mr Richards. Shall we join the others?’

  Victor settled his head comfortably on his pillow, lifted his arm and folded it around Megan’s shoulders. ‘I knew it would be good between us but I never thought it would be this good.’ He ran his fingers through her long red curls, winding t
hem around his fingers before laying them over his chest. ‘Couldn’t you write to your father again to try to persuade him to let us marry?’

  ‘It wouldn’t do any good, Victor,’ she said sadly. ‘As it is I can’t understand why he hasn’t come back to drag me home, or as he threatened, to Brecon to work on a farm.’

  ‘I know why he hasn’t, and so do you.’

  ‘You think it’s just the money?’ Her green eyes glittered up at him in the shadowy light of the candle.

  He realized she was looking for an assurance that her father loved her for more than the weekly postal orders she sent, but he’d never lied to her before and he wasn’t about to start. ‘In a word, yes.’

  ‘My parents must really need the money to leave me here after the minister wrote and told them that you came to the chapel with me.’ It wasn’t much of an excuse for her family’s attitude, but it was the only one Megan could think of.

  ‘Which is why I think that if I keep paying your father fifteen shillings a week until your twenty-first birthday, he would let us marry.’

  ‘My father will never give us his permission.’

  ‘Why does he hate Catholics so much?’ Victor asked.

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps the chapel has something to do with it. The minister back home was always preaching against the popish doctrine but he never explained why. I remember that when I was small I used to wonder what “popish” meant.’

  ‘Does your father know any Catholics?’

  ‘I don’t think so. But I’m glad I do.’ She curled up close to him and kissed his chest. ‘This is wonderful, Victor, and I’d like to stay here for ever, but it’s getting late. I know Lloyd and Sali won’t be back for hours, but we should get up and dress in case Joey comes back.’

  ‘Joey’s in one of his moods. He’s so angry with himself, all of us and the world in general, he’ll be out late.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘What I do know is that I locked the bedroom door, so he can’t walk in.’ He lifted his head from the pillow, looked down and gave her a crooked smile. ‘Just another five minutes.’

  ‘That’s what got us into trouble last time.’

  He glanced at the clock. ‘It’s half past five now. Supposing I set the alarm for six in case we go to sleep?’

  ‘I’d be a lot happier if I got up and dressed right now.’

  ‘Really?’ He ran his fingers lightly, teasingly down her naked body beneath the blankets.

  ‘Victor ...’ Her protest turned to a sigh when he slipped his hand between her thighs. ‘You know what that does to me.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I ...’ He silenced her with a kiss that became another and another, and moments later, nothing existed for either of them, outside of the passion that consumed them both.

  Lloyd heard the sound of a carriage pulling up outside Ynysangharad House when he crossed the hall on his way from the drawing room to join Harry upstairs in the nursery. A key turned in the lock, the front and porch doors opened and Geraint walked in. He stared at Lloyd. Knowing it was useless to wait for his brother-in-law to acknowledge him, Lloyd went up to him and extended his hand.

  ‘Good evening, Geraint.’

  Geraint hesitated and looked at Lloyd’s hand before briefly touching his fingers. ‘Lloyd.’

  Lloyd debated whether to offer an explanation for his presence and decided against it. He had made the first move; it was up to Geraint to make the second.

  Geraint rang the bell and a footman appeared. ‘Mr Jenkins not on duty, Aled?’

  ‘It’s his day off, sir,’ the footman replied.

  ‘I forgot.’ Geraint handed the boy his hat and coat.

  ‘I’ve heard about your brothers’ convictions and sentences,’ he said to Lloyd after the servant had left.

  ‘I didn’t realize that news travelled so fast between Porth magistrates’ court and Gwilym James’ in Pontypridd.’

  ‘I made enquiries. I thought it my place to do so for my nephew’s sake.’

  ‘You nephew is upstairs in the nursery, if you would like to see him.’ Lloyd tensed his fists and spoke softly. Sali would have known that he was struggling to control his temper. But Geraint remained oblivious to his mounting anger.

  ‘I may look in on the boy later.’

  ‘You’re a hypocrite, Geraint.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Why won’t you admit that you couldn’t give a damn about Harry or your sister?’ Lloyd said flatly. ‘All you care about is yourself, and that you continue to live in this house, rent and expense free.’

  ‘That is just the sort of vicious lie I’d expect to hear from a man who deliberately seduced a vulnerable woman out of his class. But then,’ Geraint’s lip curled, ‘Sali and Harry’s allowances must be useful in a houseful of men who’d rather strike than work.’

  The taunt was one too many. Forgetting Mr Richards’ advice, Lloyd said, ‘No one in my family, including myself, has touched a penny of Harry’s money. Unlike you, your mother, brother and sister, who are happy to live at his expense. But you’re not even satisfied with that, are you, Geraint? You want the lot, which is why you tried to persuade Mr Jenkins to sign a document stating that Mrs James wasn’t compos mentis when she made her will.’

  ‘How do you ...’ Realizing he’d confirmed his guilt, Geraint fell silent.

  ‘Know?’ Lloyd finished for him. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘You may have fooled my sister with your working-class hero act, but you haven’t impressed me. Unlike you, Harry will be a gentleman, and I intend to see that he is brought up in this house, not a miner’s slum. And if I have to go to the courts to ensure that he has the upbringing he deserves, I will.’

  ‘You don’t even know Harry. You haven’t seen him more than a couple of times in his life and even then you ignored him.’ Lloyd was so angry he was unaware that he’d raised his voice.

  ‘There’s little point in my seeing the boy when he’s living with a bunch of criminals. You and your family would negate any influence I try to bring to bear. As it is, your brothers are on their way to gaol and you and your father will follow when this strike is broken ...’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘This strike is criminal. Everyone realizes that except you monumentally stupid miners. You have broken the law by withdrawing your labour. You and your strike committee have crippled the mining industry and caused an economic disaster that has affected the whole of South Wales. And you can’t see any further than your inflated wages claim and demands for feather-bedded working conditions that will cost a fortune to implement -’

  ‘All we want is a living wage and safe working conditions.’

  ‘Expensive conditions,’ Geraint mocked.

  ‘This coming from a man whose father was killed in a colliery explosion.’ Lloyd didn’t even bother to conceal his contempt.

  ‘You leave my father out of this.’

  ‘He was the best employer I’ve had the privilege to work for and one of the best men I’ve ever met. It’s a pity his sons aren’t more like him. And that’s why I intend to see that his grandson and namesake will be brought up the way he would have wanted’.

  ‘You dare to assume to know what my father would have wanted?’

  ‘What I do know is that your father would never have threatened to take Harry away from his mother at the tender age of four in an attempt to get his hands on his inheritance.’

  ‘He certainly wouldn’t have left him to live in a collier’s house surrounded by criminals. I will get the boy under this roof and away from you and my sister -’

  ‘And how do you propose to do that, Geraint?’

  They both turned to see Sali and Mr Richards standing in front of the library door.

  ‘By making the trustees see common sense,’ Geraint shouted at Sali. ‘Harry will be brought up in this house, by people qualified to care for him.’

  ‘Are you saying that Lloyd and I aren’t qualified to b
ring up our own child?’

  ‘Dad!’ Harry hurtled down the stairs towards Lloyd.

  ‘He’s calling you Dad now?’ Geraint’s face contorted in disgust.

  ‘How long have you been there, Harry?’ Lloyd stepped on the bottom stair and held out his arms. Catching Harry he lifted him up.

  Harry didn’t answer, but he clung so tightly to Lloyd that Lloyd guessed he’d heard most of the argument.

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to live in this nice big house, Harry, and play in the nursery every day? You will have to live here when you’re older -’

  ‘Geraint!’ Sali said.

  ‘Your mother hasn’t told you that you will inherit this house, Harry? Or that you will be a very rich man?’

  ‘Come on, Harry,’ Lloyd set him down on the bottom stair and turned his back on Sali’s brother, ‘we’re going up to the nursery, so you, Mam and I can talk.’

  Mrs Williams heard the crunch of footsteps on gravel, as the maids walked around Llan House to the kitchen entrance. She opened the door and looked out. ‘I thought I heard you girls ... Joey Evans! I warned you that you’re not welcome around here.’ She held up the lamp and peered at him.

  ‘It’s all right, Mrs Williams, we made him behave,’ Rhian said.

  ‘There were three of us, Mrs Williams, and one of him,’ Bronwen added. ‘So if anyone’s lost their reputation it’s him. He may even be considered fit for decent company after we sat him at a table in the teashop next to the vicar’s wife, and made him drink four cups of tea and eat a bun. He’s promised to sign the temperance pledge next week, haven’t you, Joey?’

  Having promised no such thing, Joey gave Mrs Williams a weak smile and lifted his cap. ‘Good evening.’

  ‘Go inside, girls, supper’s on the table in the servants’ hall. Joey,’ Mrs Williams stepped out and called after him as he walked away.

  ‘Mrs Williams?’ He turned back.

  ‘I was sorry to hear about your father’s accident. You will give him my best wishes for a speedy recovery when you next visit him in the Infirmary?’