‘I’ll make some anyway. Like as not, the Reverend Richards will be able to manage a cup. He’s fonder of his tea than he is of his Sunday dinner.’ The housekeeper shuffled out of the room, still dabbing at her nose with her handkerchief.
‘She’s upset about the Reverend Richards,’ Edyth explained superfluously. ‘She was telling me before you came that she has been his housekeeper for over forty years and she’s afraid that if anything happens to him she’ll lose her home as well as her job.’
‘That’s the Church for you. Use people and then abandon them to the workhouse when they reach old age.’ Lloyd went to the window and stared at the church wall.
‘Micah Holsten told us that Peter came to fetch you from the Norwegian mission this morning.’ Sali sat on the sofa.
‘He telephoned Peter first thing.’ Edyth was aware that her mother was only talking in the hope of ending her father’s tirade against the Church by drawing him into conversation.
‘Peter wasn’t here when you arrived last night?’
‘He was out visiting a sick parishioner. After I called here, I was involved in the scuffle Mr Holsten told you about …’
‘Just who did those women think you were, Edyth?’ Lloyd repeated. He turned and looked her in the eye.
‘One of their acquaintances, I assume,’ she answered evasively, but he wasn’t to be put off so easily.
‘They thought you were a prostitute?’
‘I didn’t have chance to talk to them. The police came along, arrested them and took me to the police station as well, to make sure that I was all right, which as you can see, I am.’
‘What time was this?’
‘It was after midnight when Micah Holsten saw me in the police station and suggested that I spend the night with his sister.’ Edyth omitted all mention of how she had arrived at the police station, hoping that was one piece of information her parents would never hear.
‘It’s just as well that Micah was there. I’ve never hit one of my children, but I don’t mind telling you that I don’t know whether to hug or spank you at this moment. What possessed you to walk around Bute Street so late at night?’
‘I was supposed to arrive early in the evening. The train was delayed …’ A lump rose in Edyth’s throat and her voice tailed into silence.
‘What’s important is that you’re safe and well now, Edie.’ Sali jumped up and hugged her.
Lloyd turned from the window and looked at them both. ‘Have you anything to say to us, young lady?’
‘I’m very sorry, Dad. I should never have left Swansea the way I did.’
‘It’s you we’re thinking of, darling.’ Sali led Edyth to the sofa. ‘Anything could have happened to you while you were wandering around the dock area alone at that time of night. It simply doesn’t bear thinking about.’
Lloyd was more direct. ‘Sailors leave ships with two things on their mind: getting drunk and having a good time. And when drunk, most men aren’t responsible for their actions. Just be very grateful that you were attacked by women, not men.’
‘I really am very sorry. I know I shouldn’t have come down here so late. It would have been better if I’d caught the last train back to Pontypridd when I reached Cardiff station.’
‘You had no right to leave Swansea in the first place,’ Lloyd snapped.
‘Hindsight’s a wonderful thing,’ Sali said soberly.
‘Did you just leave the college, or did you tell them you were going?’ Lloyd finally left the window and sat on one of the chairs.
Edyth loathed admitting that she’d lied to the bursar but, as she would have to contact the college to let them know she wasn’t returning, she didn’t doubt her father would find out what she’d done sooner or later. ‘I said Harry needed me,’ she admitted in a small voice.
‘Why would your brother need you?’ Lloyd delved in his pocket in search of his pipe.
‘I said Mary was ill.’
‘So you told lies as well.’
‘What’s done is done, Lloyd.’ Sali kept a grip on Edyth’s hand. ‘We both agreed on the journey down here that there’s no point in forcing Edyth to go to college when she doesn’t want to be there.’
The doorbell rang; they heard Mrs Mack speak to someone. Footsteps echoed up and down the hall and stairs.
‘That must be the ambulance.’ Edyth rose to her feet.
‘Reverend Richards won’t want strange women fussing around him while he’s being carried out of his home. You stay with your mother. I’ll see if they need help.’ Lloyd left the room.
‘I’ve made the most awful mess of things, haven’t I, Mam?’ Edyth crossed her fingers under cover of her skirt in the hope that her mother would contradict her.
‘I can’t understand what you hoped to accomplish by coming here,’ Sali answered frankly.
‘I wanted you and Dad to take me seriously. Did he say anything to you about me?’
‘As I just said, we agreed on the journey down here that there’s no point in forcing you to go to college.’
‘Nothing else?’ Edyth pressed.
‘No.’
‘I see.’
‘Nothing, that is, until we saw Mr Holsten, then your father said he was relieved that you were all right.’
‘Mam –’
‘I know you want to talk about Peter but I don’t, Edyth,’ Sali said firmly. ‘Not until your father returns.’
They sat in silence for ten minutes, then the front door slammed and an engine started up outside. The door opened and Lloyd walked in followed by Peter. It was obvious the atmosphere between them was cool. Peter immediately walked up to Sali and offered her his hand.
‘Mrs Evans, I’m sorry, you’ve caught me at a bad time.’
‘I rather think that Edyth chose the time, not you, Reverend Slater.’ Sali took his hand and shook it.
‘I didn’t realise that you were here until Mr Evans came to see if he could help carry Reverend Richards downstairs.’
‘You didn’t think we’d come to fetch our daughter home, Slater?’ Lloyd enquired acidly.
‘I knew you would come, sir. But I wasn’t expecting you to arrive so soon.’ Peter hovered awkwardly in front of the fireplace. ‘Please, do sit down. I’ll call Mrs Mack. Would you like tea or coffee?’
‘Mrs Mack did say she was going to make tea but with all this upset she’s probably forgotten,’ Edyth said quietly.
‘I’ll remind her.’
‘Please, don’t bother, Slater, we’ll be leaving in a few minutes,’ Lloyd said curtly.
‘How is Reverend Richards, Peter?’ Sali enquired.
‘Very ill,’ Peter murmured.
‘Which, from what you told us, doesn’t suit you or the Bishop at all,’ Lloyd observed. ‘You were hoping to be a curate here for six months, weren’t you?’
‘That was the Bishop’s original plan, yes, sir,’ Peter conceded.
‘So the Bishop will appoint someone else vicar here?’ Lloyd persisted.
‘That is for the Bishop to decide, sir, not me,’ Peter answered uneasily.
‘I know what you’re thinking, Dad,’ Edyth interrupted. ‘And you couldn’t be more wrong. Peter didn’t know that I intended to leave college or that I was coming here yesterday.’
‘Is that the truth?’ Lloyd eyed Peter sternly.
‘Yes, sir. If I had known what Edyth intended to do, I would have done everything in my power to dissuade her from behaving so recklessly.’
There was such sincerity in Peter’s voice, Lloyd believed him. ‘Then this whole hare-brained scheme was all your doing, Edyth?’
‘I tried to tell you that I didn’t want to go to college,’ Edyth protested defensively. ‘You wouldn’t listen to me. I can see now that I behaved like an idiot charging up here from Swansea yesterday, but all I could think of after you left was reaching Peter. I knew Reverend Richards was ill and Peter had no chance of being appointed vicar here if he wasn’t married –’
‘And you thought i
f you came here and spent the night with him I’d have no choice but to allow you to get married?’
‘No!’ Edyth gasped, smarting at the inference that she would stoop to using such a blackmailing ploy.
‘Then what?’
‘I didn’t think any further than getting here and talking to Peter. And that is the truth. No matter how many times Peter and I asked for permission to marry, you refused. You wouldn’t even talk to us about it,’ she reproached. ‘All the time I was growing up, you used to say to me and the others that no matter what our problems were, you’d always try to help. But my problem was that you refused to discuss my future or what I wanted to do with my life with me. I know what I did was wrong, but when you stopped listening to me I simply didn’t know what else to do.’
Lloyd sat back, crossed his arms and looked from Peter to Edyth, ‘Well, one thing is certain: your mother and I have lost control over you. This is not the way that I hoped to see any daughter of mine married, and certainly not under the age of twenty-one. But given the circumstances I feel that you – both of you – have left me no choice but to consent to your marriage. I can see that if I don’t, I may well lose you permanently.’
‘Do you mean that, Dad? You will give us your consent?’ Edyth asked eagerly.
‘If Peter and this parish are more important to you than your education, your independence, and your parents’ advice and wishes, Edyth, you’d better have them. I only hope that you won’t live to regret your choice. If you do, it might console you to know that the money I will save on your education should just about fund a divorce,’ he added caustically.
‘Sir …’ Peter saw the look of abject misery on Edyth’s face and the protest he’d been about to make, died in his throat. Silence fell over the room. Edyth reflected that she had won the battle, but at the cost of losing her father’s respect. It was a price she was loath to pay.
‘If you are serious about allowing me to marry Edyth, sir, I have no doubt that the Bishop will give me this parish. And that means I will be able to support your daughter,’ Peter ventured courageously.
‘How soon do you want the wedding?’
Edyth felt now that her father had finally given his consent he couldn’t wait to be rid of her.
‘As soon as possible, sir.’ Peter smiled at Edyth but she was too devastated to react.
‘It took us over a year to arrange Bella’s wedding,’ Sali said thoughtfully.
‘Edyth and I wouldn’t want anything as elaborate as your eldest daughter’s wedding, Mrs Evans,’ Peter said swiftly.
‘You’re speaking for Edyth already, Slater.’ Lloyd pushed his pipe into his mouth but he didn’t attempt to light it.
‘We just want to be married so Peter can have the parish, Dad,’ Edyth said quietly.
‘The church service will be the most important part of the proceedings and I hope the Bishop will consent to officiate. But the guest list will be small. My only relatives are my mother and my aunt, although I would like to invite the wives of the Bishop, Dean and Reverend Price,’ Peter added.
‘As you are aware, our family is large and Edyth couldn’t possibly get married without all her brothers and sisters present. And then there are my brothers, their wives and children, and all our friends, who will expect to be invited just as they were to Bella and Toby’s wedding. If we do any less for Edyth than we did for Bella, people will assume that we disapprove of her choice of husband,’ Lloyd said shortly, leaving ‘with some justification’ hanging unspoken in the air.
‘Yes, sir.’ Peter knew he’d been rebuked and looked suitably humbled. Edyth could have hugged him for not arguing.
‘We’ll ask some of our friends to move over to your side of the church so it doesn’t look too lop-sided, as we did in Bella and Toby’s wedding.’ Sali began to concentrate on the practical aspects of the arrangements because they were easier to cope with than the emotional damage to Lloyd and, she suspected, Edyth. ‘First we need to set a date. Do you want the ceremony to take place in St Catherine’s?’
‘As it’s Edyth’s local church it would be the most suitable,’ Peter concurred. ‘The banns will have to be called and they take three weeks. We could set a date for a month from now.’
‘That won’t give us much time to order clothes and a cake. And that will take us into October.’ Sali frowned. ‘It will be cold in a marquee and the house isn’t large enough for everyone.’
‘We’ll hold the wedding breakfast in the New Inn, or, if it is booked, the Park Hotel,’ Lloyd said.
‘Won’t that be very expensive, sir?’ Peter ventured.
‘That is my concern as the father of the bride.’
‘As Lloyd said, we can’t do any less for you and Edyth than we did for Bella and Toby.’ Sali attempted to soften Lloyd’s harshness.
‘Just one thing, sir. I would prefer not to have a jazz band, if you don’t mind.’
Edyth was mortified. She felt that in that one request Peter had emphasised the divide between himself and her family. And when she heard her father’s reply, she wished the ground would swallow her up.
‘Which would you prefer, Slater: a church organ recital, or a hymn-singing choir?’
Chapter Twelve
Judy Hamilton sat in the centre of the upstairs sitting room of the Norwegian church, surrounded by most of the residents of the Bay. Practically everyone she knew was there – her uncles, aunts, cousins, friends and neighbours – yet she had never felt more alone.
People were talking about her grandmother as if she had been dead for years not days. Then she realised from the shouts of laughter from her grandmother’s elderly friends as they exchanged amusing anecdotes about the young, newly married Pearl King and her dashing West Indian husband, the past was the land of preference for old people.
Her young cousins sat rapt, listening in silence, wary of making a noise lest someone notice them and shoo them out of earshot of the ‘grown-up’ conversation. Her Uncle Tony began to weave a story that described how twelve-year-old Pearl Plummer had left her parents and nine brothers in the house of her birth, in the mining village of Bedwas, because ten miners in one house – whom she had to help her mother wash, cook, clean and get baths for were nine too many. He painted the many and varied adventures that had led her down to Tiger Bay, in terms that would have done credit to the Brothers Grimm.
‘… You’ve seen the house in Loudoun Square where she worked. Seen it, but not gone inside or counted all the marble fireplaces that she had to clean out every morning, scrub, polish, and lay and light fires in. She had to make twelve trips out to the bins behind the basement kitchen just to dump the ash.
‘The mistress was very particular, the cook and housekeeper even more so. They wouldn’t tolerate a speck of coal on the carpets or a hint of dust. But every other Wednesday,’ he dropped his voice to a whisper, ‘young Pearl had two whole hours off. From seven until nine in the evening. And being Pearl, and always looking to help others, she used to go down to the John Cory Sailors and Soldiers Rest Home where she served tea and coffee and handed out library books. And there, one freezing cold winter’s night, a handsome young West Indian seaman called Jeremiah King walked in, took one look at her …’ Tony raised his eyebrows, ‘and knowing a good thing when he saw it, carried her off and married her in less than a week because he’d already signed up for another voyage to the Caribbean. And he wasn’t prepared to run the risk of a rival stepping in and taking the love of his life. On their wedding day she wore a dress of pure French lace embroidered with real pearls …’
‘One day those little ones will be telling that story to their grandchildren, to explain the colour of their skin.’ Micah Holsten perched on the arm of Judy’s chair.
‘Uncle Tony makes me wish I’d never said, “Oh no, Gran, please not that old tale again.”’
‘We’re all guilty of not listening enough to our parents. We never appreciate them until they’ve gone.’ Micah spoke from the heart – and from bitter expe
rience. He handed her a plate containing two sandwiches and a slice of homemade sponge.
‘Thank you, I’m not hungry,’ she said politely.
‘You have to eat.’
‘I will. Just not bloater paste sandwiches and quince jam sponge.’ She gave him a small smile. After days of grief and misery her face muscles felt stiff and strange.
‘Don’t let Mrs George catch you saying that; she made them,’ he warned. ‘In fact, just about everyone in the Bay brought one or two plates around this morning for the funeral tea. I only hope they recognise their crockery when this finishes. Our cupboards will never hold the extra.’
‘I had no idea Gran knew so many people.’
‘She knew everyone, rich, poor, respectable and less so.’ He nodded to Anna Hughes, who was setting out a tray of shop-bought pasties on the buffet table. ‘There can’t be a soul left in a house or on the streets in the whole of the Bay. And I’ve never seen so many flowers covering a coffin, which says a great deal about the love and respect everyone had for your grandmother.’ He looked keenly at her. ‘I wish I could say something to comfort you.’
‘Thank you for trying, Mr Holsten, but at the moment I just feel numb. Then occasionally it hits me that she’s gone and I’ll never see her again, and I start crying.’
‘I remember how I felt when my father and mother died within two weeks of one another from diphtheria. I believed my world had come to an end. It took me a long time to develop an interest in life again.’
‘You were lucky to know your parents.’
‘I was, and you were lucky to have your gran.’ Micah deliberately changed the subject. ‘Jed tells me that you’re moving in with him and his family.’
‘Gran’s cleaning jobs in the pubs paid the rent and my money bought us food. I’ll never manage to keep the house going on my own, and the landlord knows it. He already had someone interested in taking it, and at a higher rent than we were paying. It’s good of Uncle Jed to take me in.’
‘He loves you like a daughter.’
‘He has a houseful of children of his own,’ she said pointedly.
Micah allowed the comment to pass. Judy and her grandmother had enjoyed the luxury of space, which was a rare commodity on the Bay. Jed and his wife had six children – four girls and two boys – and another on the way. It was anyone’s guess where Judy would sleep in their small three-bedroomed terrace.
Tiger Bay Blues Page 21
