Winners and Losers

by Catrin Collier

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  ‘It has to be worth a try, Mr Richards,’ Sali pleaded, after stopping off at her solicitor’s house on the way home. Not wanting to tell Joey her idea in case it didn’t work and she raised his hopes to no purpose, she had left him in the carriage. ‘The one thing we do know about Megan’s father is that he loves money. If we advertise in a Swansea Valley newspaper asking that Megan write to your firm because she has been named as beneficiary in a will, he is bound to contact us.’

  ‘He may well do so,’ Mr Richards agreed guardedly, ‘but what if he refuses to divulge her whereabouts?’

  ‘He’ll tell us where she is if you say that the legacy can only be paid out if Megan signs for it in person, and that you have to witness her signature.’

  ‘Have you thought she might be happy where she is, and won’t want to leave?’

  ‘I don’t believe for one minute that she wants to stay away from Victor, but if that is the case, we can at least be sure that she is well and happy.’

  ‘And if her father has sold her labour for a twelve-month and they demand she fulfil her contract?’

  ‘I’ll buy her out of it.’

  Sali was so full of her plan, Mr Richards didn’t remind her that if Megan had an employer who refused to allow her to be bought out of her contract, they would have every legal right to demand she stay. He picked up his pen, looked at Sali, and asked, ‘How exactly would you like this advertisement worded?’

  Sali didn’t tell Joey about the advertisement Mr Richards had placed, in case Megan’s father didn’t reply. And, as first one, then two, three and finally four weeks passed, she was glad that she had kept her plan a secret between Mr Richards and herself. She even began to wonder whether or not Megan’s father could read. Mr Richards contacted the newspaper and arranged for the notice to be inserted in the weekly paper for another two weeks, on the premise that few papers were actually bought in the rural areas, but passed from farm to farm and could easily get lost along the way.

  Two weeks after the final insertion, when Sali had almost, but not quite, given up hope of Mr Williams contacting them, Mr Richards knocked on the door of Sali’s office in Gwilym James. One look at his smiling face was enough to send her spirits soaring.

  ‘The appeal -’

  ‘I warned you not to expect to hear anything for months.’

  ‘Then you’ve had a letter from Megan’s father!’

  ‘It’s about the sale of the farm at Tonypandy – you asked me to look into it.’

  Trying to hide her disappointment, she said, ‘Yes. Please, sit down, Mr Richards.’ She indicated the chair in front of her desk. ‘Is it for sale?’

  ‘I don’t know where your information came from, Mrs Evans, but it was accurate.’ He took the chair she offered him. ‘Mr Adams was about to go bankrupt. His farm, including the five-bedroom house, barn, cowshed, stable and workshops, over seventy acres of land –hillside, valley and woodland, about half classed as good grazing –has debts of around three hundred pounds against it. I looked over the place with a surveyor this morning. A few of the buildings are in disrepair, and there are areas where work needs doing but essentially it is a sound proposition. The surveyor suggested that given the downturn in the Rhondda’s economy and the uncertainty of the future, four hundred pounds may be considered a good price for the place, which will give Mr Adams a clear hundred pounds. However, a note of caution, the place went bankrupt once, it could do so again.’

  ‘Mr Adams had a mortgage. He couldn’t sell his produce to make the payments because the strikers had no money,’ she said logically.

  ‘That is true but several things can go wrong with a farm. The crops can be blighted, the animals fall sick, the price of feed can go up, that of produce can fall.’

  ‘But with good management it might become a paying proposition,’ she suggested optimistically.

  ‘It might,’ he replied, cautious to the last. ‘Would you like me to make an offer?’

  ‘Pay what it’s worth, Mr Richards. It would be perfect for my brother-in-law, Victor –and Megan Williams, if we find her,’ she added despondently.

  ‘If you are free, we could look at it now. I have a carriage waiting outside.’

  ‘I’ve seen it, Mr Richards. I have walked up there many times with Victor, Joey and Harry.’

  ‘And been inside the house?’ He looked at her enquiringly.

  ‘Only the kitchen.’

  ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, Mrs Evans, you work too hard. A trip out would do you good.’

  Sali thought for a moment. ‘That might be an idea. We could call in at the Tonypandy store and see Joey afterwards. I’d like to make him a proposition.’

  ‘The house is lovely and it’s in a beautiful spot. You may be able to see the collieries, but you are so far away from them, they don’t matter. The air is fresh, clean, free from dust, and smells entirely different. The way you feel air should.’ Sali stood on the doorstep of the farmhouse and looked over the fields to a patch of woodland on her far right and the valley with its ugly black collieries and slag heaps beyond.

  ‘It’s a nice spot,’ Mr Richards agreed. ‘And I can see why Mr Adams will be glad to give it up. Aside from his debts, the place is a lot of work for a young man, let alone one of seventy, with a wife in poor health. Are you sure that you want to buy all the existing stock and machinery at valuation? It could push the price up by as much as another hundred pounds.’

  ‘I am sure.’ Sali looked around the farmyard and almost wished that Lloyd had the same interest in animals and market gardening as Victor. She could imagine living in the generously proportioned farmhouse with its tiny parlour and massive kitchen, looking up from her sewing and seeing him turn the pages of his book, as they sat either side of the range every evening after they had finished work for the day. Spending her days cooking, cleaning, washing, helping Lloyd with the farm, bringing up Harry and Bella ...

  ‘I’ll see to the paperwork as soon as I get back to the office. Whose name do you want to put on the deeds?’

  ‘That’s why I want to call into the store and talk to Joey. He and I own all of Mr Evans’ and the boys’ houses. If I buy six of them from the Evanses it will give Joey six hundred pounds to buy the farm and the stock, and Victor, if he wants the place, a hundred pounds operating capital. In exchange I can put the houses in Bella’s name. Then, if Mr Evans and Joey agree, they can give or sell the farm to Victor.’ She looked around the farmyard one last time. ‘Victor spent every spare moment he could up here. I think he’d want it, and if we don’t buy it now we may not get another opportunity for years. If I’m wrong, and Victor doesn’t want it, there shouldn’t be a problem renting it out. Should there?’ she asked anxiously, suddenly wondering if she was taking too much upon herself.

  ‘None at all, Mrs Evans,’ Mr Richards assured her. ‘There are always people looking to rent farms.’

  ‘Did you ask Mr Adams if the farmhand would stay on to look after the stock until someone takes possession?’

  ‘Yes, and he can.’

  ‘And you’ll make the offer today?’

  ‘If you give me five minutes I’ll go back and talk to Mr Adams now.’

  ‘I’ll wait in the carriage for you, Mr Richards.’

  ‘You’ve bought the farm for Victor?’ Joey dropped the pen he was using to mark entries in the purchase ledger and stared at Sali and Mr Richards.

  ‘Do you think he’ll be pleased?’ Sali removed her gloves and twisted them nervously in her hands.

  ‘Given that he’s spent all his free time up there since he could walk, and there are plenty of outbuildings that he can turn into a smithy, I think he’ll be over the moon. It will also solve the problem of him finding a job when he comes out of prison. You’re really buying it?’ he reiterated, as if he couldn’t quite believe her.

  ‘Yes, but I don’t want to register it in my name because that would complicate matters. Your family owns a dozen houses quite se
parate from Lloyd’s. If you agree to sell me six at a hundred pounds apiece -’

  ‘You already own half of them,’ he pointed out.

  ‘Only on paper,’ she contradicted. ‘If you sell me six for six hundred pounds, Mr Richards will arrange to have the deeds registered in Bella’s name as an investment for her, and in return you will have the money to buy the farm, the stock and machinery and have enough left over for Victor to start running the place. Mr Richards can register the farm in your name and when Victor comes out, you, your father and Victor can decide who should own it.’

  Joey frowned. ‘It sounds to me like you’re giving us money and Lloyd would hate that.’

  ‘I am not giving you money,’ she argued. ‘Your houses are worth a hundred pounds apiece and I am buying them off you.’

  ‘I’m not stupid, Sali. I know that the strike’s forced property prices down,’ Joey said seriously. ‘If they came on the open market now, we’d be lucky to get fifty pounds apiece for them from an investor.’

  ‘The prices have already risen to seventy, and we’re expecting them to recover fully in the next year or so.’ Mr Richards spoke with all the authority of a solicitor accustomed to purchasing property for his clients.

  ‘Provided there isn’t another strike,’ Joey said caustically.

  ‘Bella will have the rents as interest,’ Sali determinedly ignored the mention of another strike.

  ‘Tell me, what do you really think of Sali’s plans, Mr Richards?’ Joey asked the solicitor earnestly.

  ‘I think Mrs Evans’ idea is an eminently sensible one.’

  ‘She’s not giving us money?’

  ‘On the contrary, she is making an investment for her daughter and freeing you enough capital to purchase a farm that could provide your brother with a comfortable living. No one has a crystal ball, Mr Evans, and there may well be more trouble coming to this valley, but there are also a lot of natural resources. Long term, I don’t think an investor here will lose out.’

  Joey hadn’t had many personal business dealings, but for reasons he couldn’t have begun to explain, he trusted the solicitor’s judgement. ‘In that case, go ahead and make all the necessary arrangements, Mr Richards.’

  Sali kissed Joey’s check. ‘See you back at the house for dinner?’

  ‘Just as soon as I’ve made a note of all the incoming stock, checked the sales figures, put the takings in the night safe and closed the store for the night. It’s Mr Horton’s night off.’

  ‘It seems like your brother-in-law takes his duties here very seriously, Mrs Evans.’ Mr Richards closed the carriage door behind them and rapped the roof with his cane, signalling the driver to move off.

  ‘He does, and he carries them out well. You know how reluctant Mr Horton senior is to praise anyone, and even he said that Gwilym James was lucky to have Joey as an employee.’

  ‘And what is going to happen when the manager of Mason and Hardy’s retires from the Cardiff store next Christmas?’ he enquired drily.

  ‘As it happens, I was speaking to Mr Horton about that very matter earlier in the week.’ It was warm in the carriage and Sali unbuttoned her coat. ‘We both thought that as Mr Horton junior has made such a good job of managing this store, he should receive promotion to the same position in the Cardiff store.’

  ‘And Mr Evans could be promoted from assistant manager to manager of the Tonypandy store?’ Mr Richards suggested.

  ‘Joey’s proved that he’s up to the job, and he knows Tonypandy, the people and their shopping habits.’

  ‘And the three managers of Gwilym James’ three stores would, as senior members of staff, sit on the board of trustees, one of the new managers effectively replacing the assistant manager, Mr Watkin Jones.’

  Sali gave Mr Richards an artful smile. ‘That thought, Mr Richards, never once crossed my mind.’

  ‘How long will it take to finalize the purchase of the farm and the houses, Mr Richards?’ Sali asked, as they drove back to Pontypridd.

  ‘A few weeks.’

  ‘Two? Three?’ she pressed.

  ‘Shall we say that if everything goes according to plan, a month at the most. There is something else that I wanted to discuss with you.’ Mr Richards pulled an envelope from his inside pocket. ‘I have been corresponding with Mr Williams for two weeks but I didn’t tell you, because he was extremely difficult and at first I seriously doubted that he would give us any information as to the whereabouts of Miss Williams.’

  ‘And?’ Sali’s heart thundered against her ribcage.

  ‘He has finally given me the address of the asylum where his daughter is working as a maid. But only after I wrote to him three times, informing him that I had to see her in person to effect the transfer of her inheritance. He has demanded that her legacy be sent to him, which, as Megan is under twenty-one, he has every right to do.’

  ‘An asylum?’ Sali’s eyes rounded in horror ‘Where, Mr Richards?’

  ‘The middle of nowhere, or so it would appear. I looked at a map before I went to your office.’ He extracted the letter from the envelope and studied it. ‘The nearest town is Llanidloes, but she is thirty miles outside it. The asylum is called Ty Bryn.’

  ‘How much did you tell Megan’s father her inheritance was?’

  ‘Fifteen pounds.’

  ‘I suggested fifty,’ she protested.

  ‘And I thought fifteen sufficient.’

  ‘Then we must go there at once.’

  ‘I was afraid you would say that, which is why I suggested we look at the farm this afternoon. I have made arrangements to leave tomorrow. I have booked train tickets for my clerk and myself and wired ahead for a carriage to take us to the house. You cannot go, you have your baby.’

  ‘Mari can look after her for the day. I’ll take your clerk’s ticket.’

  ‘It may not be possible to travel to the asylum and back in one day,’ he warned.

  ‘Then Mari will have to look after Bella for two days, Mr Richards,’ Sali countered impatiently. ‘You can have no idea how happy this makes me.’ She frowned. ‘Just in case there is a mistake or we can’t get Megan out, let’s keep this as a secret between ourselves for a little while longer. But,’ she smiled broadly, ‘if we do manage to bring her back, just imagine the look on Victor’s face the next time we visit, if Megan is with us.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Why you have to go to Mid-Wales with Mr Richards at a day’s notice, Sali?’ Joey said at the dinner table that night.

  ‘Because he wants me to meet a man who has a gold mine that might be a good investment.’ It was an idiotic story but after inventing it on the spur of the moment, Sali had no option but to stick to it. ‘You don’t mind taking care of the children, do you, Mari?’ She turned to the housekeeper who at her insistence ate all their meals with them except when they had company.

  ‘Not at all, Miss Sali.’ Mari looked at her even more suspiciously than Joey had.

  Sali looked at Harry. ‘You don’t mind me going away for one night, do you, Harry?’

  ‘Tell you what, it’s half day tomorrow, so when I come home from work I’ll take you riding on your pony,’ Joey promised.

  ‘Yippee!’ Harry shouted.

  ‘That’s settled then.’ Sali spooned the last bit of gooseberry fool from her dish into her mouth. She hated lying to Mari and Joey, but then, if tomorrow worked out the way she hoped it would, it would be worth it.

  ‘Megan, you have visitors,’ the matron announced from the doorway of the sluice room where Megan was leaning over the sink washing out floor clothes.

  ‘Visitors!’ Megan had woven so many dreams around a moment just like this; she couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

  ‘Your father wrote and asked us to allow you see them. They are waiting in the small office at the end of the corridor. At the end of the day I will expect you to make up the time you will lose speaking to them.’

  ‘Yes, Matron.’ Megan left the floor cloths in the sink and went to the bathro
om next door. She washed her hands and face, rolled down the sleeves of her uniform and buttoned her cuffs. Wishing there was a mirror so she could check her hair, she made her way to the small office, not daring to wonder who might be the other side of the door. Them. One just had to be Victor ...

  She knocked and opened the door.

  ‘Mrs Evans, we have to make a decision as to what to do next,’ Mr Richards remonstrated, as Sali and Megan continued to hug one another wordlessly. But while Sali remained dry-eyed, Megan couldn’t stop sobbing.

  ‘I am sorry, Mr Richards.’ Sali helped Megan into a chair. ‘We have to talk, Megan. First, do you want to leave here?’

  ‘I have been trying to think of a way to get out ever since I came here. But we’re locked in, just like the inmates. Even the delivery vans come through two sets of gates that are locked after them before they are unloaded. And I’ve stood by those gates. You can see for miles and miles and there’s not a house in sight. Not even a farmhouse.’

  An agonizing scream tore through the air from one of the upstairs wards.

  Megan shuddered. ‘Did you hear that?’

  ‘I heard it,’ Sali confirmed. ‘And I don’t know how you’ve stood it here.’

  ‘I’ve wanted to leave since the minute I arrived. I’ve been so frightened. There are maids here who arrived thirty years ago and more as children. I thought I’d end up like them. That no one would ever find me ...’ Megan began to cry again.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get you out,’ Sali promised. ‘Mr Richards,’ she turned hopefully to the solicitor, ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to persuade the matron that I need Megan to be my nursemaid more than she needs her to be a ward maid here.’

  ‘I wish I had your confidence, Mrs Evans.’

  ‘Come on, Megan.’ Sali pulled the girl to her feet. ‘Let’s get you out of here.’

  ‘I am sorry, Mrs Evans, it is quite out of the question,’ the matron said. ‘Miss Williams has been paid for a year’s service in advance as a trainee maid. Twenty pounds ...’