Winners and Losers

by Catrin Collier

  Sali glanced at Victor when he returned to the kitchen carrying his haversack. ‘If you can wait until tomorrow morning, Victor, we’ll use the carriage from Ynysangharad House to travel to the Swansea Valley.’

  ‘The carriage? Sali, are you mad?’ Lloyd exclaimed. ‘It’s fifty miles or more and even that depends on which part of the Swansea Valley Megan’s father lives in.’

  ‘We’ll go over the Bwlch.’

  ‘And where do you suggest we stay the night?’ Lloyd enquired. ‘Inns cost money and even if we manage to stay awake, the horses will be tired.’

  ‘I’ll borrow more money from Mr Richards. It is an emergency.’

  Victor looked so miserable that for once Mr Evans decided to break the family’s cardinal rule of not using Sali’s money for the family. ‘Whatever you borrow from Mr Richards, Sali, we pay back.’

  ‘That won’t be a problem when you are all working again, Mr Evans.’

  ‘Time you started calling me Dad. And what about Harry?’ he added, without giving her time to absorb what he’d said.

  ‘He’ll come with us –Dad,’ Sali smiled. ‘We’ll make it the holiday we didn’t have last year or this. You’d like to ride in a carriage to the Swansea Valley with your father, Uncle Victor and me, wouldn’t you, Harry?’ Sali asked her son. ‘We’ll see lots of things along the way. Farms, cows, horses, wagons, strange places we’ve never been to before.’

  Harry knew something was very wrong with the way that his Auntie Megan had left the house. Since she’d gone, his Uncle Victor had been miserable and had stopped playing with him, but his mother was smiling for the first time since his auntie had left and that had to be good. ‘Yippee, a holiday.’ He smiled at Victor, but his uncle wasn’t looking at him.

  ‘Sali, I can’t expect you to travel all the way to the Swansea Valley in the carriage in your condition. Lloyd can come with me,’ Victor protested.

  Billy studied Sali for a moment. ‘You never moan or complain like most women in your condition. Tell me, how is that granddaughter of mine?’

  ‘He’s fine,’ Sali teased.

  ‘He’s not going to like being called Isabella,’ Lloyd chipped in.

  ‘No more than I like being called Sebastian,’ Victor complained.

  ‘Seeing as you only hear it whenever the police arrest you or in court, let’s hope you won’t hear it too often again,’ his father said wryly. ‘Sali, if you’re sure you’re up to the journey, I think it’s a good idea that you go with Lloyd and Victor. Joey couldn’t go with you anyway because he has Connie’s deliveries to see to in the morning.’

  ‘Thank you for agreeing with me,’ Sali said sincerely. ‘A woman in my condition is bound to get more sympathy than either of you two.’ She glanced from Victor to Lloyd. ‘And before you say another word, I have more tact and diplomacy in my little finger than you two have in your entire bodies. Lloyd, why don’t you go down to Pontypridd tonight, see Mr Richards, tell him what we want to do, borrow the money we’ll need and arrange for the carriage to be here at six o’clock tomorrow morning. That way we can get an early start.’

  ‘Here.’ Victor put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a shilling. He gave it to Lloyd.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Train fare to Ponty.’

  The next morning dawned, bright and clear, with a fine mist on the mountain tops that heralded a fine day. Lloyd had warned Sali that Mari was packing a picnic hamper, so she left what food there was in the house for Joey and Mr Evans. She secreted ten of the twenty sovereigns Mr Richards had insisted on loaning Lloyd, although he’d only asked for five, in her purse, checked the changes of clothes she had packed ‘in case’ and was waiting impatiently when the coachman, Robert, brought the carriage to a standstill outside the house at five minutes to six.

  ‘We’ve a fine morning for our trip, Mrs Evans,’ he greeted her as she left the house ahead of the others.

  ‘We have, Robert.’

  ‘It’s a long time since the carriage has been further than Pontypridd so Mr Jenkins thought there should be two of us.’ He pointed to the boy sitting alongside him on the box. ‘This is Simon.’

  ‘Pleased to have you with us, Simon,’ Sali smiled.

  Lloyd lifted Harry into the carriage, helped Sali in and took the seat beside her. Victor sat opposite them next to the window. He leaned back lest anyone recognize him, and rag him about riding in an expensive carriage drawn by thoroughbred horses. Harry had no such compunction. He pushed down the window and would have fallen out if Lloyd hadn’t held on to him as they set off at a brisk trot.

  It took them an hour and a half to negotiate the narrow roads of the Rhondda villages that led up to the steep mountain track road that wound up the Bwlch. Robert held the horses steady and when they reached the top, Sali insisted on stopping for a picnic. Robert lifted down the hamper Mari had packed for them and Sali spread out the cloth and set out plates of chicken and ham sandwiches, an enormous bowl of salad, one of Mari’s veal and ham pies, and two apple tarts.

  ‘This is some breakfast. Even if we get lost we’re not going to go hungry.’ Lloyd took one of the thick, pressed-glass tumblers Sali had filled with Mari’s homemade lemonade.

  Robert and Simon accepted Sali’s offer of food, but insisted on sitting apart from them to eat. Sali didn’t argue with them, and she stopped Lloyd from forcing them to reconsider their decision.

  ‘You may believe in a classless society and equality, but they have to go back to Ynysangharad House.’

  ‘And your brother and mother.’ Lloyd brushed the crumbs from his suit and called to Harry, who was watching rabbits play around the grazing sheep.

  ‘If we had the dogs, Uncle Victor, we could have rabbit pie.’

  ‘That’s my boy.’ Victor was more animated than he had been since they’d returned from the funeral to find Megan gone. Sali only hoped that their journey wasn’t going to be as fruitless as she and Lloyd suspected it might well turn out to be.

  ‘Ladies to the left, boys to the right,’ Lloyd said, when Sali began to pack up the remains of the food into the basket. ‘You all right, sweetheart? You look pale.’

  ‘Only under this sunshine. Time we left if we’re going to get to the Swansea Valley before nightfall.’

  They pulled into the yard of an inn at six o’clock. Lloyd went in to check the address Sali had found among Megan’s papers. When he returned, he asked Robert and Simon to take the hamper and valise into the inn before they walked the horses around to the stables.

  He opened the door, and lifted Harry down. ‘Apparently this is the nearest inn to Ianto Williams’ farm.’

  ‘I bet they would have told you that even if it wasn’t.’ Victor was obviously on edge now they had almost reached their destination.

  ‘The landlord said it’s only a mile up the road. I think that we should leave the carriage here and hire a trap from the inn. If Megan is at the farm they’d hide her as soon as they caught a glimpse of the carriage. Whereas the trap is at least local.’

  ‘I’ve already met Mr Williams so I think I should go up there alone.’ Sali brushed the creases from her maternity suit. ‘He’s always been antagonistic towards you, Victor, but he may talk to me.’

  ‘You can put that thought right out of your head, Sali Evans,’ Lloyd declared firmly. ‘You’re not going up there alone and that’s final. And unlike Victor, I haven’t met the man so he’s just as likely to talk to me as you.’

  ‘A pregnant woman is less threatening.’

  ‘I can be nice.’ Lloyd straightened his collar and tie.

  ‘If she’s there ...’ Victor’s voice trailed at the thought that Megan might not be.

  ‘We’ll try to spirit her away,’ Sali promised, ‘and if she’s not, I’ll do my very best to find out where she is.’

  Just as the landlord had said, Ianto Williams’ hill farm could be seen from the road, a long, low, grey stone building nestling into the curve of a horseshoe-shaped hill. The mountain b
ehind it and the long slope that led up to it were dotted with sheep. Lloyd slowed the pony and trap to walking pace when they left the road for the rough track in an attempt to avoid the ruts and potholes, but he wasn’t always successful and he was very aware of Sali’s condition when she gripped the side of the cart whenever they negotiated the worse bumps.

  ‘This isn’t doing Isabella any good,’ he commented after the wheel went over a particularly large stone only to sink straight afterwards into a rut.

  ‘She’s enjoying the fresh air.’

  ‘Ah, you admit, she’s a girl.’

  ‘Not at all.’ Her eyes sparkled in the golden light of the setting sun. ‘Just tired of a futile argument. When Will arrives -’

  ‘Will?’

  ‘William Lloyd Joseph Victor Evans.’

  ‘Poor soul. I’m glad she’s Isabella.’ He reined in the horse as they entered the farmyard.

  ‘Let me do the talking.’

  He saw two children standing in front of a chicken coop but it took him a few seconds to recognize them. ‘Try to have a word with Daisy and Sam first, and ask them not to call me Mr Evans. If Megan’s father overhears them, it might put paid to any chance we have of getting her out of here before we even start.’ He tied the reins together, jumped down and walked around to help Sali to the ground.

  ‘Mrs Jones.’ Daisy ran towards her and Sali was appalled by the difference in the young girl. She’d grown since the last time she’d seen her but her dress was ragged and far too small for her. Sam’s clothes weren’t much better and full of holes. Both children looked thin, undernourished and filthy.

  ‘Daisy, it’s lovely to see you.’

  ‘You come from our dad to get us?’ Daisy questioned hopefully.

  ‘No, Daisy, I’m sorry. I haven’t heard from your father.’

  ‘You lost?’ A woman came out of the back door and Sali fought to keep her equanimity. She felt as though she were looking at Megan, but a Megan who had been worn down by half a century of hard living. She was painfully thin and her skin was heavily creased and worn, like the leather in an old pair of shoes. Her eyes were green like Megan’s but they were dull and lifeless, and although her hair had threads of the same marvellous red-gold they were vastly outnumbered by the grey and white hairs.

  ‘I’m Sali ... Jones,’ Sali only just remembered that the surname Evans would be instantly recognizable after all the appeals Megan had made to be allowed to marry Victor. ‘Mrs Sali Jones. This is my husband Lloyd. We are friends of Megan’s.’

  ‘She’s not here.’ The woman looked nervously over her shoulder.

  ‘We were hoping that you could tell us where she is. As you can see,’ Sali looked down at her swollen figure, ‘I am going to need a nursemaid soon and my husband and I were hoping that Megan would be free to take the position.’

  ‘She has a job.’

  ‘Perhaps we could tempt her with extra money,’ Sali persisted.

  ‘My husband will be back from the fields any minute and he doesn’t like strangers.’

  ‘But we’re not strangers, Mrs Williams. I met your husband when he came to Tonypandy to see Megan.’

  ‘I told you she’s not here.’ Mrs Williams became quite agitated. ‘Now go, before he sees you.’

  Lloyd glimpsed movement out of the corner of his eye. Sali turned to see Ianto Williams walking down the mountain towards the yard. His trousers were still held up by string and tied beneath the knees and he was wearing the same threadbare jacket that he had been the last time she had seen him. She went to the gate to meet him.

  ‘Mr Williams.’ She extended her hand as he approached, ‘I don’t know if you remember me.’

  ‘Mrs Jones, isn’t it?’ He looked pointedly at her swollen figure. ‘You said you were a widow.’

  ‘I was a widow, I remarried last Christmas.’

  ‘They came to offer Megan a job, Ianto,’ his wife broke in.

  ‘She’s got one,’ he barked gruffly.

  ‘That’s what I told them, Ianto.’

  ‘So good day to you.’

  ‘Just a moment.’ Lloyd wrapped his arm around Sali’s shoulders. ‘My wife and Miss Williams were good friends. She would like to write to her. If we could have her address -’

  ‘No point, she’s not in a place where she’s allowed to have letters.’ Ianto whistled to his dogs. ‘Now get off my land before I set the dogs on you.’

  Sali looked back at Daisy and Sam, as Lloyd helped her into the trap. He climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the horse around. The last thing Sali saw was Daisy waving a handkerchief with a daisy embroidered on the corner. The small girl looked lost, forlorn and frightened, with Mr Williams and his dogs standing behind her.

  ‘Ay, I remember Megan Williams.’ The potman set a tray of three lamb dinners and a half-sized plateful for Harry on their table in the dining room of the inn. ‘She was a pretty girl. But her father sent her away years back, to keep house for his brother-in-law in the Rhondda.’

  ‘Then you haven’t seen her lately?’ Victor took the jug of water and filled everyone’s glass.

  ‘Not since we were in the same class in school. I missed her when she went. She was good too, not like the rest of us. Teacher said she could have gone far, perhaps even been a teacher herself. Nice girl as well as pretty. There was no one like Megan for smoothing over a quarrel before it got started. But then, that’s Ianto Williams for you. He couldn’t wait for his children to start earning so they could send money home. He took his two boys out of school to put them on a farm over Ammanford way. His girls are in Madame Patti’s place.’

  ‘The opera singer?’ Lloyd asked in surprise.

  ‘She owns the castle up the road towards Brecon, Craig y Nos. Mind you, after all the improvements she’s made to the place it looks more like a mansion than a castle now. Money no object, or so people who’ve been in there say. The best of everything goes through her gates –food, furniture, carpets. Even her servants’ uniforms are better than most people’s best clothes. Her staff have their own cook and get three hot meals every day. I should be so lucky.’ He dropped his voice when he saw the landlord glaring at him. He lifted the four plates from the tray and set them in front of them. ‘Can I get you anything else?’

  ‘No, thank you.’ Sali reached for the pot of mint sauce on the table. ‘Are our coachmen all right?’

  ‘Eating mutton chops and drinking beer in the bar. They seemed happy enough with the room I showed them over the stables.’

  ‘Thank you, you’ve made us very welcome.’ After the man left, Sali looked from Victor, who was crushed, to Lloyd. ‘So, what do we do now?’

  ‘What can we do, except eat this, stay here tonight and go home tomorrow?’ Lloyd leaned over the table and cut the lamb on Harry’s plate into bite-sized pieces.

  ‘You’re sure that Ianto Williams told you Megan had a job?’ Victor finally picked up his knife and fork but made no attempt to eat.

  ‘I’m sure, Victor,’ Sali replied.

  ‘And you offered to pay Megan more money if she worked for you?’

  ‘We did,’ Lloyd said.

  Pushing his untouched plate aside, Victor went to the dresser where the man who had served them was polishing cutlery. Concerned that the potman might feel intimidated by Victor’s size and attitude, Lloyd followed.

  ‘You have a problem, sir?’ The potman looked warily at Victor.

  ‘Not with the food. Do you know if there’s been a hiring fair in Brecon in the last couple of days?’

  ‘Yesterday, sir, so you’ve just missed it. There won’t be another for six months.’

  ‘What happens at these fairs?’ Lloyd asked.

  ‘Every worker who wants a job lines up in Ship Street, and the farmers come down and pick out the people they want –dairy maids, shepherds, cowmen, or whatever they’re short of. They take them for six months or, if the workers are lucky, a full year. But there’s not many farmers willing to pay people through the winter months
when there’s so little work for them to do.’

  ‘And the wages?’ Victor questioned.

  ‘Are agreed and paid in advance.’

  ‘In advance? You’re sure about that,’ Victor said carefully.

  ‘There’s many a small farmer around here who has managed to build up a flock of sheep or add to a herd of cows on what he’s brought in by selling his son or daughter’s labour for six months or more.’

  ‘Does anyone keep records of who goes where?’ Lloyd glanced back at Sali and Harry. She pointed down to his and Victor’s plates to remind him that their meals were getting cold.

  ‘Bless you, no, sir, it’s all done quiet like, between the farmer and the people they hire.’

  ‘How big are these hiring fairs?’ Victor had seen Sali signalling to them, but he ignored her and his meal.

  ‘Young Bill over there has just taken on a shepherd from Brecon. Bill?’ The potman called, ‘Were there many people at the hiring in Brecon this week?’

  ‘Hundreds,’ shouted back young Bill, who had to be at least forty.

  Lloyd walked over to him. ‘Can we buy you a drink, Mr ...’

  ‘Hughes. Ay, I don’t mind if I do have another pint.’ He drained his glass and handed it over.

  ‘Did you see a girl at the hiring?’ Victor opened his wallet and extracted a smaller version of the framed studio portrait of Megan that stood on his bedside table.

  ‘Hundreds.’

  ‘This one is special, pretty girl with long, red-gold hair.’ Victor set the photograph on the table in front of the man. ‘Her name’s Megan Williams, she’s from around here.’

  ‘Place was teeming with girls, young man, but no pretty ones.’ He picked up the photograph, studied it and shook his head. ‘But then they get snapped up early, so even if she was there, it could be that she was hired before I arrived. Some of the farmers round Brecon don’t see a soul from one year to the next unless they make an effort to go into town on market day. Pretty girl like this,’ he gave Victor a sly wink as he returned the picture, ‘is worth a lot, especially to the unmarried farmers and their farmhands. If you understand me.’