‘I never said I wasn’t.’ She smiled at the mention of her husband’s name. ‘I just let Ned think he was the only one with dreams.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I didn’t want mine to overshadow his.’
‘He was a good man,’ Billy agreed crustily.
‘He was. Do you remember a couple of months after Isabella died, I asked you how you were, and you said the worst thing was people never mentioning her name when they talked to you? It was as if she’d never lived.’
‘I don’t remember,’ he lied, ashamed of the one time he’d lowered his guard and allowed his emotions to show.
‘Whether you do or you don’t, you were right, Billy. Even my sons, daughter, and their wives and husband, and my grandchildren try to avoid talking about Ned and I hate it. It’s almost as though they are trying to kill him a second time by obliterating his memory.’
‘If anyone is going to be remembered by the miners in this valley it’s Ned.’
‘I hope so. He would have liked that.’ The potatoes started boiling and she pushed them to the back of the hob. ‘Do me a favour, shout up to Lloyd and ask if he’s going to give his poor wife and daughter a bit of peace and eat his dinner down here, with us.’
Chapter Twenty-five
‘I don’t intend to argue about this with you, Sali.’ Lloyd took off the jacket of the suit he’d worn to visit Geoffrey Francis, and hung it over the back of the chair in their bedroom. ‘It’s common sense for Victor, my father and me to sign over everything we own to you and Joey before the court case tomorrow. And that’s why we asked Mr Francis to draw up the papers today, so we can all sign them first thing in the morning.’
‘You don’t know what’s going to happen in court tomorrow,’ she countered.
‘Precisely.’ He unbuttoned his waistcoat.
‘You’ll be tried by an impartial jury. After they’ve heard the evidence they’ll realize that none of you have broken the law.’ Sali glanced down at the baby at her breast. At six weeks, Bella, as Lloyd had first called her, and she was now generally known, was plump, contented and stunningly beautiful. She was as dark as Harry was fair, with Lloyd’s thick black curly hair, and deep navy blue eyes, which Sali was convinced would soon turn the same ebony shade as her father’s.
‘We’re only taking sensible precautions. You and Joey may have to sell a house or, given the way prices have fallen since the strike, two, just to live if we are imprisoned for more than a couple of months. In fact, you may need to sell two anyway, just to recoup your losses.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked warily.
‘I’m not stupid, Sali, and neither are my family,’ Lloyd said quietly. ‘We all know that you’ve been paying the household bills since we’ve been laid off. And before you say another word on the subject, there’s no point in trying to deny it.’
‘Connie’s paying Joey wages,’ she answered defensively.
‘And although they are good for a delivery boy, the fifteen shillings a week he now brings home doesn’t cover the cost of coal, lamp oil, chicken and dog food.’ He gripped the back of the chair and looked at her. ‘You promised you wouldn’t use Harry’s money to keep us.’
‘I’m not. I’ve used a very small part of the eighteen hundred and fifty pounds Mr Richards raised when he sold my ring. And if I hadn’t paid the bills, we’d owe money to almost every tradesman in Tonypandy, and they can’t afford to carry anyone. The strike may be over, but it’s going to take months, if not years, for people to clear their debts and that goes for the shopkeepers like Connie as well as the colliers. Besides, it’s only temporary,’ she protested. ‘You’ll pay me back.’
‘And just when do you think we’ll be a position to do that?’ he enquired sceptically.
‘When this court case is over and everything gets back to normal.’
‘None of us will ever work in this valley again, Sali, and you know it.’
Sali flinched from the bitterness that had been eating away at Lloyd, his brothers and his father since they had been laid off. The colliery company had taken their pride along with their jobs, and nothing she could do or say could restore it. Unable to meet Lloyd’s steady gaze, she glanced down; Bella’s eyes were slowly closing. She pulled her gently away from her nipple and a bubble of milk appeared at the baby’s mouth.
‘If she’s finished, I’ll wind her,’ Lloyd offered.
She knew that was the closest she’d get to an apology for his outburst. ‘Take your waistcoat, shirt and vest off first in case she brings some milk back. It’s easier to wash you than your clothes.’
Lloyd did as Sali suggested, leaned over the bed and tenderly took the baby from her arms. Supporting Bella’s tiny body in his hands, he set her against his shoulder and gently rubbed her back. ‘You’re looking tired. My father’s right, you left your bed and started running the house too soon after Bella’s birth. Just look at what you’ve done today. Cooking, cleaning -’
‘Sat and drank tea with you and your father this morning. Gossiped with Mrs Morgan and later on the midwife when they called to see how Bella was doing this afternoon.’ Sali left the bed and poured water into the bowl on the washstand. Rubbing soap on to a flannel, she washed her heavily veined, swollen breasts. ‘We have some decisions to make, and no matter how much you try to evade the subject, sooner or later we are going to have to talk about the money that Mr Richards transferred into my bank account after he sold my ring.’
‘Not now, Sali,’ he pleaded.
‘Rather than just sign your houses over to me and Joey, why don’t you sell them to me? I could put them in Bella’s name as a nest egg for her. It would give you and your family a little capital. Give you all a breathing space until you find other jobs. It can be only a matter of time until you do.’
‘If the court fines us, the authorities will take whatever money you give us.’
‘You think they’ll fine you that much?’
‘I don’t know. What I do know is that they can’t take what we don’t have. And that is why we don’t want to own the houses –not even on paper.’ Lloyd sat in the nursing chair Victor had carried up from their father’s bedroom after Bella’s birth. He wrapped the shawl Sali had crocheted around both himself and Bella, and bent his head so he could watch the baby as he continued to cuddle her on his shoulder.
‘You really think you are going to be sent to prison, don’t you?’ She buttoned the bodice on her nightdress.
‘Yes, and frankly, the way things are at the moment with all of us except Joey out of work, and him earning a boy’s wages, I’d prefer it to paying out a heavy fine. What little we’ve saved as a family and invested in houses will be wiped out soon enough if we try to live on it for any length of time. And, although Harry’s future might be assured, we’ve Bella to consider now.’
‘The men in the unions will never stand for you and your father being made scapegoats,’ she said firmly.
‘With the collieries in production and over seventy-five per cent of the men back in work, management know the other twenty-five per cent won’t risk losing their jobs before they get them to protest at the way the strike leaders are being treated. No more than any collier in work will dare to miss a shift to demonstrate outside the court. You will take over the houses in joint ownership with Joey, won’t you?’
‘I will,’ she conceded, tired of the argument.
‘And if I’m put in prison, you’ll stay here, with Joey?’ he pressed.
‘You may not go to prison,’ she dismissed, ‘and even if you do, it may not be for more than a week or two.’
‘And if it is?’
‘I’ll think about what to do if it happens.’
‘That’s not good enough, Sali. I’m the first to admit that Joey thinks before he acts, behaves like an idiot most of the time and, despite all the promises he’s made to my father, incapable of keeping his flies buttoned around the wrong kind of woman, but he is family. And I know that he’ll do everything in
his power to look after you and the children. I trust him more than I trust Geraint.’ Holding Bella close to him so as not to wake her, he left his chair.
‘How about I solemnly promise to live with Joey, will that do?’ She climbed into bed. ‘Who knows, he may get an offer of a better paid job elsewhere.’
‘No creating a job for him in one of Harry’s companies,’ he warned.
‘After the way Geraint’s behaved since he started work in Gwilym James, I doubt that Mr Horton or any of the other trustees would allow me to create another job for someone in the family.’
Lloyd laid Bella down on her side in the cot, tucked her long nightdress around her legs and tiny feet as she curled up, kissed her cheek, folded the shawl and pulled the bedclothes over her. ‘I know that I don’t have to ask you to look after Bella and Harry, but will you look after yourself?’ he questioned seriously.
‘That’s the third promise you’ve coaxed out of me in the last two minutes. The room is freezing; come to bed.’
He slipped his braces from his shoulders, unbuckled his belt, and stripped off his trousers, drawers, sock suspenders and socks. ‘I love you, Mrs Evans, never forget that, whatever happens tomorrow.’
‘I want to go to court with you.’
He shook his head. ‘You need to look after Bella, and I’ll be better off by myself, no distractions.’ He climbed in beside her, blew out the candle and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
‘I love you, Lloyd.’ Her breath caught at the back of her throat, as he caressed the soft skin beneath her ear. ‘Please, promise that you’ll be sleeping with me tomorrow night.’
‘I only wish I could.’ He kissed her and one kiss led to another and another. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart ...’
‘You couldn’t, darling, not this way,’ she whispered.
‘You’ve just had Bella.’
‘Weeks ago, and she’ll soon need a younger brother to bully.’
‘Sali -’
‘Where’s the man who told me there’s no point in discussing things that can’t be changed? Let’s just make the most of what we have here and now, Lloyd. Please.’
Mr Richards slipped out of the back door of the court and walked down the corridor. He knocked at a door marked private and Mari opened it.
‘They’re making the closing statements in five minutes, Mrs Evans.’
‘Couldn’t have come at a better time,’ Mari said, as Sali buttoned the neck of her blouse. ‘You look fine,’ she reassured. ‘Bella will be all right for a good four hours and not even the judge will let them rabbit on for that long.’
Sali left the room with Mr Richards. Constable Davies was in the corridor and he nodded to them.
‘Thank you again for arranging this, Huw,’ Sali said.
‘It was no trouble, Mrs Evans. But I warn you, the public benches can be seen from the dock.’
‘It will be too late for Lloyd to complain about me being in court when I’m there,’ she said nervously.
‘I don’t think he’d dare object in front of the judge,’ Huw agreed.
Sali glanced at her watch as she walked with Mr Richards. Half past three. Harry would be home from school, sitting in Connie’s living room, and knowing Connie’s routine, eating tea with Antonia while Annie and Connie served in the shop downstairs. She crossed her fingers hoping that she and Lloyd would be able to catch the train back from Cardiff together with all his family, to walk up from the station, call in at Rodney’s to pick up Harry ...
Mr Richards opened the door to the public benches and Sali stared in amazement at the number of people who had come down from Tonypandy for the trial. Luke Thomas and all his friends were there, Beryl and Alun Richards, Betty Morgan, and the entire strike committee who had all been laid off the same time as Lloyd.
Mr Richards indicated two seats at the end of the front bench and she sat beside Joey. Mr Richards took the end seat next to her as Geoffrey Francis rose to his feet. The barrister glanced back at Lloyd, Billy and Victor, straightened his wig and faced the judge.
‘Your honour,’ he bowed to the judge, ‘members of the jury. I beg your indulgence. Please allow me to establish the characters of the accused; refresh your memories as to the evidence against them and re-examine the events that took place at the pithead of Ely Colliery, Penygraig on Tuesday, twenty-fifth of July 1911.’
‘In addition to being the financial secretary of Number One District, Lloyd Evans is chairman of the Cambrian Joint Workman’s Committee. Is it likely that he would have been democratically elected to such responsible positions by his colleagues if he were not well respected and regarded as highly trustworthy by his fellow workers, neighbours and friends?’ Mr Francis fell silent for a moment, giving the jury time to absorb what he had said.
‘You heard Lloyd Evans state under oath that he took no part in the stone-throwing and assaults on police officers that day. He, along with the other two defendants, have stated clearly and unequivocally that they went to the Ely pithead only because it was rumoured blacklegs were working there and every time rumours of that nature had arisen in the past, there had been instances of trouble between the police and the strikers. And it was solely with the intention of averting trouble, and none other, that the defendants went to Penygraig that fateful afternoon.’
‘ You also heard Mr Lloyd Evans refute on oath that he did not say as, Sergeant Lamb has suggested, “I am not sorry that there have been riots as it shows that people are awakening to their rights.” In fact, he said, “Riots had alienated and would alienate the sympathy of the general public from the men on strike.”’
‘I am not saying that stones weren’t thrown at the police. Some colliers did so, yet they are not on trial here. The police have failed to produce a single witness who saw anyone of the accused throw a stone in the direction of the officers on duty on Tuesday the twenty-fifth of July at Ely pithead. Indeed, Victor Evans testified that he only stepped in between the police and his father because he thought an officer was about to injure his father, who had recently been disabled and had not recovered from his injuries.’
‘Only five days before the events at Penygraig, on the twentieth of July 1911, police fired at demonstrators at Llanelli killing nine people who were supporting the dockers and railwaymen’s demands for a minimum wage of thirty shillings a week -’
The judge leaned forward, ‘Stick to the facts of this case only, Mr Francis.’
‘Forgive me, your honour,’ Mr Francis apologized. ‘Members of the jury, may I draw your attention to the second defendant. William Evans is president of the Glamorgan Workman’s Baths and Institute, a member of the South Wales Miners’ Executive Council, and although he would not like me to say it, severely disabled, as a result of the train crash on Monday, the twenty-third of January 1911 in which three of his and Lloyd Evans’ fellow members of the South Wales Miners’ Federation Executive Council were killed. He is an upright man and, like his son, well respected by every member of the community in which he lives. He testified that far from throwing stones, he did all in his power to preserve harmony between the two warring factions. He believes that the demonstrators went to Penygraig with the intention of peacefully persuading the blacklegs they thought were at the colliery to stop work. After hearing some of the evidence the police have given to this court, I believe the police imagined a great deal of what happened that day. And in some instances,’ Mr Francis stared blatantly at Sergeant Lamb, ‘made mistakes. During the fighting that erupted after the police officers charged the lines of colliers, William Evans’ younger son, Victor, helped his father into the Golden Age public house, not as the prosecution claims, to avoid arrest but to escape the constables who were chasing the protesters with drawn batons. And that is why Victor Evans is standing in the dock accused of assaulting a police officer.’ He took a deep breath and pointed at Victor. ‘Since when has protecting a sick, elderly man become assault?’
‘The local police sergeant, the Reverend Williams an
d Father Kelly, all highly respected and esteemed community leaders, have testified that they have always considered the accused to be the sort of men who would help to preserve peace. But, as Father Kelly added, “Now the authorities seemed to be very anxious to hit the men’s leaders.” I put it to you that is why all three men are on trial here today.
‘There was much confusion at the pithead that afternoon, but Father Kelly was there. He testified that he saw all three defendants exhorting the men to be peaceable. He saw the police charge the pickets and,’ Geoffrey Francis glanced at the judge almost daring him to object, ‘in his opinion, incite the temper of the striking colliers. You heard Sergeant Martin state that he believed all three men were attempting to placate the colliers and break up the demonstration. Therefore I implore you, the jury, to bring in the only verdict possible if justice is to be served here today: Not guilty. Thank you, your honour.’
Geoffrey Francis looked from the jury to the people in the public gallery. Joey’s attention remained riveted on his father and brothers in the dock, but he fumbled for Sali’s hand. She caught it and held it tight.
The prosecuting counsellor rose to his feet and bowed to the judge. ‘Your honour, members of the jury, I put it to you that you have before you three exceedingly cunning and clever men. You have heard the testimony of the police officers present at Ely pithead in Penygraig that fateful afternoon. The defending counsellor would have you believe that the police imagined what went on that day. Did they imagine the stones that were thrown?’ He paused for effect. ‘Did they imagine the injuries, some severe, that were sustained by police officers engaged in preserving the peace and preventing rioting, of which law-abiding citizens have had far too much in the Rhondda and Wales in the past year?’ He raised his voice effectively. ‘No one disputes that the police drew their batons. As to it being an incitement to trouble?’ He shrugged. ‘What are police officers who are faced with a hail of stones and missiles supposed to do? Stand and wait until they are hit and not lift a finger to defend themselves?’
Winners and Losers Page 45
