Winners and Losers

by Catrin Collier

‘I can walk.’

  ‘Everyone can see you’re limping, man.’

  ‘So are three-quarters of the colliers in every pit by the end of their shifts.’ Lloyd crossed his arms across his chest and eyed Mr Thomas. The official glanced away, unable to meet Lloyd’s steady gaze. He didn’t have to say another word. Lloyd guessed what he was having difficulty in telling them. ‘My father won’t be taken back.’

  ‘He’s disabled -’

  ‘And neither will I,’ Lloyd added.

  Realizing that it was useless to try to conceal the truth, or soften the blow with sympathetic words, the official opted to tell the truth. ‘It’s nothing personal, Lloyd. Both of you are good workers, the best we have, but management -’

  ‘Regards strike leaders as troublemakers and they don’t want them working in their collieries.’

  ‘I thought you’d be glad of an opportunity to retire, after your accident, Billy. How old are you now? Fifty -’

  ‘Retirement age is sixty-five,’ Billy said. ‘What am I supposed to live on for the next fifteen years?’

  ‘You’ll get compensation from the railway.’

  ‘Betty Morgan has been told that she’ll get five hundred pounds for her husband, I’ll get one hundred pounds for the loss of my leg and fifty pounds of that went in medical bills. Are you suggesting that I should live on the remaining fifty for the rest of my life?’ Billy demanded.

  ‘Everyone knows that you and your boys have invested in houses. Several, or so I’ve been told. At ten bob a week rent, you’ll earn more from them than you would if you went back underground.’

  ‘And Lloyd? Are you suggesting that he should retire too?’ Billy finally allowed his anger to show.

  ‘It’s not just me, is it, Mr Thomas?’ Lloyd questioned softly. ‘It’s Joey and Victor too.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I really am -’

  ‘But the management of the Cambrian Collieries don’t want the sons and brothers of union leaders working in their pits.’ Lloyd kicked open the door. ‘Thank you for letting us know where we stand.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Lloyd, this is none of my doing, I’m just the messenger. I’m sorry, I really am. Perhaps you’d let the other strike leaders know -’

  ‘That they’re out of a job?’ Billy questioned contemptuously. ‘That’s one bit of news I’ll allow you to break to them, Mr Thomas. Mabon has well and truly sold us out. Other signatures might be on the agreement to return to work but we came back because he gave us his personal assurance that once the collieries were operational again, management would discuss our demands. They’ve no intention of even giving us a hearing, have they?’

  ‘We’ll never get a minimum wage, will we?’ Joey questioned angrily.

  ‘We?’ Lloyd countered bitterly. ‘We’re not colliers any more, just four more men in the ranks of the unemployed. James Connelly was right when he wrote his Workers Republic: “Apostles of Freedom are ever idolised when dead, but crucified when alive.” If you can remember that, Thomas, perhaps you’d tell it to the management the next time you lick their boots.’ Lloyd turned on his heel and walked out of the door.

  Sali was sweeping the kitchen floor when Lloyd climbed the basement stairs. He opened the door. She looked at him and knew something was very wrong.

  ‘My father and brothers will be up in a minute. They’re changing out of their working clothes. I wanted to tell you what’s happened before you see them. I’m sorry, Sali. No one in this family has a job to go back to. No strike leader, or member of any strike leader’s family, has work. I don’t know how we’re going to live or what we’re going to do ...’

  A sharp pain ripped through Sali and she felt as though something was tearing inside her. She gasped and doubled up in pain. Crying out, she stared in horror at the pool of bloodstained water spreading over the flagstones at her feet.

  Lloyd swept her up into his arms. Hearing her cry, Joey and Victor ran up the steps from the basement, followed by their father.

  Mr Evans looked from Sali’s features contorted in pain to the pool of bloodstained water on the floor. ‘Joey! Run as fast as you can and get Mrs Morgan. If she’s not at her house, she’ll be at Joyce Palmer’s. As soon as you’ve asked her to come here, fetch the midwife. Quick as you can.’

  Victor ran after Joey and opened the door for Lloyd. He swept through it and carried Sali up the stairs.

  ‘The parcel in the wardrobe.’ Sali fought another pain, as Lloyd lowered her on to the dressing-table stool.

  While she undressed and washed, Lloyd stripped the bed and after covering the mattress with layers of brown paper, remade it with an old pair of sheets Sali had set aside in preparation for the birth. As soon as she had put on her nightgown Lloyd lifted her on to the bed.

  ‘Where the hell is Joey?’ he said angrily, after settling her on the pillows.

  Sali gave him a weak smile as the contraction eased. ‘I have done this before, Lloyd. It’s not that hard. You’ll remind your father and brothers about Harry needing to be picked up from school. Everything is ready for the evening meal. All you have to do is put the beef in the oven at two o’clock. I bought it on Saturday as a special treat for your first day back at work, it’s hanging in the meat safe in the pantry, and I’ve already peeled the potatoes and prepared the cabbage -’

  ‘Will you stop fussing about food? We can take care of everything.’ Concern for her made him uncharacteristically brusque. He gripped her hand. ‘Sweetheart, please, tell me what I can do.’

  ‘You did enough eight months ago, Lloyd Evans.’ Betty Morgan rolled her sleeves to her elbows when she came into the room. ‘You all right, love?’ She looked down at Sali in concern.

  ‘It shouldn’t be coming this soon.’

  ‘You’re eight months, aren’t you?’ Betty tipped water into the bowl on the washstand, soaked a flannel in it, and pressed it against Sali’s forehead.

  ‘The midwife said I had five more weeks to go.’ Sali moaned softly as another pain took hold.

  ‘It’s high time you were out of here, Lloyd Evans.’ Betty gave him a push. ‘Go on, off with you, do something useful like look for the midwife.’

  ‘No.’ Sali reached out and grabbed his hand. ‘Stay.’

  ‘A man at a birth! I never heard of such a thing. He’ll be about as useful as an elephant at a ballet.’

  Lloyd crouched beside the bed and continued to hold Sali’s hand. ‘If Sali wants me here, Betty, I’m staying. And if you want this elephant to dance, you’d better find me some ballet shoes that fit.’

  ‘Where the hell is Joey?’ Victor paced the kitchen, as his father filled kettles and saucepans with water and set them on the range to boil.

  ‘There now by the sound of it.’

  ‘He wouldn’t knock.’ Victor went into the passage and saw that in his haste Joey had left the front door open. Sergeant Martin was standing in the open doorway.

  ‘If you’ve come to arrest anyone, we’re busy,’ Victor snapped, as another cry echoed down the stairs.

  ‘I’m sorry, is someone ill?’

  ‘My sister-in-law is having a baby.’

  ‘I apologize for breaking in on you like this, but if you could spare me a minute, I’d be grateful.’

  Billy opened the door, took one look at the sergeant and shook his head in despair. ‘Not you again.’

  ‘Please, this really won’t take more than a minute.’ The sergeant then said the one thing guaranteed to galvanize Victor’s attention. ‘It is important, to Miss Megan Williams.’

  ‘You’d better come in.’ Victor led the way into the kitchen. ‘Won’t you sit down?’ He pulled a chair out from the table.

  ‘No, thank you, Mr Evans.’ Sergeant Martin reached into his tunic pocket and pulled out a small, brown paper bag. He opened it and shook the contents on to the table. ‘Can you identify those?’

  ‘The engagement ring I gave Megan, and the chain she kept it on.’ Victor picked them up. The heart-shaped diamond glittered, beautiful and perf
ect, between the miniature gold hands, just as it had been when he had given it to her. But although it was thick, the chain had been snapped clean in two.

  ‘Where did you get them, sergeant?’ Billy moved protectively closer to Victor.

  ‘On a body we fished out of the river. But don’t worry, they’ve been thoroughly disinfected.’ Sergeant Martin’s skin was still burning. He and Gwyn Jenkins had scrubbed themselves raw after stripping the clothes from what was left of Shipton and returning them to the river. Fortunately, the man who had found the body –caught in a slick of slaughterhouse waste on the bank below Tonypandy –hadn’t recognized the remains of the police uniform. The sergeant had hated bending the rules. But Shipton was dead. Megan Williams was where she now belonged. It made no sense to investigate further when it would only bring the force into disrepute.

  ‘Whose body?’ Victor whispered hoarsely.

  ‘We don’t know,’ the sergeant lied. ‘It was naked and too far-gone to be identified, almost skeletal in fact. The chain and ring were caught up in the fingers. All I can tell you is that it was a man. We have no idea of age, looks or even hair colour. The skull was bald. But now that you’ve identified the ring I think we can say that we have found Miss Williams’ attacker and close the case.’ The sergeant walked to the door. ‘I am sorry about your fiancée, Mr Evans. She was a nice girl.’

  ‘Do you know where she is?’ Victor demanded, his temper rising at the ‘was’.

  The sergeant shook his head.

  ‘You were with her father when he took her from here. I have been searching everywhere.’

  ‘She is a minor. The law is on her father’s side. He and the minister assured me they’d send her to an appropriate place where all her needs would be met, spiritual as well as physical.’ The sergeant almost added that girls who’d been used the way Megan Williams had, were better placed in an institution but there was something in Victor’s eyes that stopped him.

  ‘If you should happen to hear where she is -’

  ‘Goodbye, Mr Evans.’

  Joey barged into the kitchen to see Victor and his father, standing staring at one another. ‘The midwife went straight upstairs. Was that Sergeant Martin I saw leaving the house?’

  ‘It was,’ his father answered.

  ‘Wanted to arrest the baby before it’s born, I suppose.’

  ‘No.’ Victor showed him the ring.

  ‘A cup of tea to go with the explanations, I think,’ Billy said, as the kettle began to boil. ‘My experience of babies is that they can be a long time coming.’

  Victor and Joey were glad when it was time to pick Harry up from school. Sali’s soft moans were worse than screams, because they knew she was holding back for their sake. When they returned with Harry they went straight to the kitchen. Billy shook his head and they retreated again, taking Harry for a walk over the mountain with the dogs.

  The first sound they heard when they returned was a baby’s cry echoing down the stairs and Victor smiled in spite of the misery that had gnawed like a cancer at him since Megan’s father had taken her.

  ‘I’m an uncle ...’ Joey charged up the stairs.

  ‘You stay there,’ Billy thundered, opening the kitchen door and stopping Joey in his tracks.

  ‘I want to know if it’s a niece or nephew.’

  ‘You’ll meet the newest Evans when you’re invited and not before. All of you in here.’ Billy reached for the teapot and caddy. ‘I’ll make another brew to toast the arrival.’

  Betty Morgan came down half an hour later with a bundle of bloodstained linen and the slop bucket.

  ‘They’re all right?’ Billy asked.

  ‘The baby’s healthy, and the mother must be mad after what she’s been through because she told me to tell you that you can all go up, even Harry.’

  ‘Is she really all right?’ Billy asked.

  ‘As all right as any woman can be living in this houseful of crazy men.’

  ‘Boy or a girl?’ Joey asked.

  ‘Go on up and you’ll find out,’ Betty smiled.

  The midwife was laying sheets in the cot that had been used for Lloyd, Victor and Joey. Lloyd was sitting next to Sali on the bed, both of them looking down at the tiny baby Sali was holding, dressed in the white knitted layette Betty had brought with her.

  Sali held out the baby to her father-in-law and he took it gently in his arms.

  ‘Isabella Maria Evans,’ Lloyd smiled, ‘and she has our mother’s eyes.’

  ‘And her black curly hair.’ An overwhelming wave of emotion washed over Billy as he held the child. For the first time since he had lost his wife, he felt truly alive again.

  ‘So what do you think of your new sister, Harry?’ Betty Morgan asked, when Billy brought him back downstairs after Victor and Joey had gone into the garden.

  ‘She’s small as a monkey and ugly,’ Harry said with startling honesty. ‘All red and wrinkled.’

  ‘I wouldn’t let your mam or dad catch you saying that,’ Billy warned. ‘Take my word for it, for a baby, she’s beautiful.’

  ‘You said she’s your granddaughter.’ Harry looked thoughtfully at Billy.

  ‘Yes,’ Billy agreed. ‘Your dad is my son, she’s his daughter and that makes her my granddaughter.’

  ‘But I’m dad’s son and I call you Uncle Billy.’ Harry pulled his stool up to the back window and looked out.

  ‘Only because I was your uncle before your mam married your dad.’

  ‘Then can I call you Granddad?’

  ‘If you want to,’ Billy answered casually, but his offhand tone didn’t fool Betty. She saw the telltale flush of pride in his cheeks.

  ‘Uncle Victor is cleaning out the chickens and dogs. I’m going to help him.’ Harry jumped down from the stool and opened the basement door.

  ‘Tell your Uncles Joey and Victor that your tea will be on the table in twenty minutes and I’ll expect them and you back here with your hands and faces washed ready to eat it,’ Betty called after him. ‘Don’t forget now.’

  ‘I won’t.’ Harry frowned at Billy from the doorway. ‘Dewi has two granddads and sixteen uncles.’

  ‘But no sisters,’ Billy reminded him.

  ‘See you.’ Harry closed the door behind him and went down the stairs.

  ‘He might not be yours by blood, but that’s a proper little character you’ve got there, Billy. And if you ask me, there’s as much of you, Lloyd, Victor and Joey in him as there is his mam.’ Betty took the plates down from the dresser and put them into the bread oven to warm.

  ‘I’ll not deny that we’ve all had a hand in his upbringing for the last year or so, but I hope there’s not too much of Joey in him,’ Billy said seriously.

  ‘Do you know, I haven’t heard a single word of gossip about your Joey since Jane Edwards disappeared.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Billy muttered from behind the paper he’d picked up.

  ‘That’s right,’ Betty answered. ‘Could it be that he’s studying to become a priest or a monk? You know how keen the Catholics are to fill their monasteries. If I were you I’d have a word with Father Kelly on the subject.’

  ‘Or it could be that you’ve no time to listen to the gossips now you’re working more or less full time for Joyce Palmer?’

  ‘More or less being right. Joyce is keen to give me more hours than there are in a day. I couldn’t have come here today if she hadn’t taken on another girl from the workhouse. But I could ask her to give me a couple of days off, if you’d like me to help out here until Sali is back on her feet.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble,’ Billy said gruffly.

  ‘No trouble,’ Betty said blithely. ‘That’s settled then, I’ll come in every day until Sali’s fit again. To get back to Joey -’

  ‘I thought we’d finished discussing him.’

  ‘They were asking me in the Post Office if he’s turned over a new leaf,’ she continued unabashed. ‘Apparently he’s been seen going into the tea shop with the
maids from Llan House.’

  ‘Any maid in particular?’ Billy asked, instantly on the alert.

  ‘No, that’s the strange thing. He’s been seen with three of them but then Mrs Williams would castrate him if he went out with just one. You know how closely she guards her girls. Like every woman she knows there’s safety in numbers.’ Betty set the knives and forks on the table, and laid a tray for Sali.

  ‘About time the boy calmed down.’

  ‘That’s exactly what most of the fathers and husbands are saying in the Rhondda, Billy.’

  ‘So they’re even gossiping about the boy when there’s nothing to be said about him.’ Billy opened out the newspaper, turned the page, folded it back and looked through the For Sale notices, not that he wanted anything, or had the money to buy it even if he saw something he needed.

  Betty saw him frown. ‘You worried about your court case, Billy?’ she questioned astutely.

  ‘You heard that I am?’ he growled.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then why are you asking?’ he demanded.

  ‘Because I’ve known you over thirty years, and that bark of yours has never fooled me. I was told before your Joey found me this morning that you and the boys have been laid off. It’s no surprise. Everyone knows that now the owners have had their way and got the men to crawl back to the pits for less wages than they were earning when the troubles started, they’re going to look round for scapegoats to blame the strike on. With you, Lloyd and Victor due in court soon, you must be worried.’

  ‘Not for myself.’

  ‘But Sali, Joey and the children,’ she guessed.

  ‘With all of us out of work, and three of us likely to be put away, of course I’m worried, woman,’ he retorted bluntly.

  ‘You stuck your neck out for the colliers, Billy, they’re not going to forget it.’

  ‘You can’t really believe that?’ He set the newspaper aside. ‘Management made it clear today that there’s not going to be enough jobs for everyone, even when the pits get back to full production. So can you honestly see any miner risking his weekly wage to sympathize openly with me, Lloyd or Victor if we’re put away?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then you’re a bigger romantic than Ned ever was.’