Edyth rose at seven the next morning. She’d expected to be the first one up in the house, but when she went downstairs, she discovered Judy had seen to all the fires, laid the breakfast, filled the kettle and set it on the range to boil. She had also left a note on the kitchen table to say she was going shopping after attending early mass but expected to be back around quarter past eight.
Edyth made tea, intending to carry a cup up to Peter in bed, but when she went into the hall she saw that his study door was open and he was at his desk.
He looked up at her. ‘Good morning.’
‘Good morning, Peter.’ As his door was open she went in and laid his tea on his desk.
‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes. Would you like breakfast?’ It was only after she asked that she realised there wasn’t any.
‘I never eat breakfast before morning service on a Sunday.’
‘Afterwards?’
‘Please.’
‘In that case I’ll leave Judy a note and tell her to have it ready for us.’
‘Did I tell you that Mrs Mack has asked for every Sunday off? I told her that would be all right as there is no housework to be done on Sundays.’
‘Except the fires, and Judy has already seen to those,’ she reminded him.
‘You don’t mind?’
‘About Mrs Mack, no. I only wish the woman would stay away permanently.’ When Peter didn’t comment, she said, ‘What have you taken for your text today?’
‘“Let he among you who is without sin cast the first stone.”’
‘I’m looking forward to hearing it.’ She didn’t have the courage to ask him if it was a reference to her attitude towards Mrs Mack.
Throughout the service Edyth was conscious of the attention she was attracting among the congregation. Afterwards, there were so many people to meet, hands to shake and pleasantries to exchange, it was closer to lunch than breakfast time when she and Peter finally managed to return to the vicarage.
After Peter had eaten the salmon bagels Judy had prepared, he went to his study. Edyth sneaked off to the kitchen with Judy, where they checked the pantry and started a list of everything that had to be done to bring it up to her standard of cleanliness, or rather Mari’s, which Edyth regarded as normal.
Fortunately Peter liked both the salt fish stew and bread Judy had bought from the Jewish baker and, by the time Edyth left for Sunday school, she was marginally happier and less irritable than she had been the day before. After writing lists with Judy and finding it somewhat satisfying to place things in order of priority, she began to formulate a mental list of what she considered to be the most serious problems between Peter and herself.
She had to find a way to make him talk to her and tell her why he wouldn’t sleep with her. And, on a more practical note, she had to sort out a budget for housekeeping – and persuade him to sack Mrs Mack.
She was mulling over the approaches she might use to prompt him into discussing their love life – or rather lack of it – when she walked back into the church for Sunday school. A sea of small faces turned to look at her. Most of the teachers had already collected their groups and sat them in their pews.
A few of the younger children were enthusiastically swapping wax crayons and drawing pictures of what looked like Joseph’s coat of many colours, some of the older ones were studiously reading texts, but there was a group of about half a dozen women and ten or so children hanging back behind the door. Edyth looked around. No one was making an effort to approach them. As Peter had placed her in charge of the school, she assumed the responsibility.
She noticed that although all the women were soberly dressed, everyone had dyed hair, some peroxide blonde, some blue-black, but the woman standing slightly to the front had red hair bordering on crimson. She was of middle height, thick-set and tough-looking. But it wasn’t until Edyth was standing in front of her that she recognised her as Anna Hughes.
Two small girls clung to her skirts. They were clean and neatly dressed in matching long-sleeved white woollen frocks, and white socks. Their mousy brown hair had been braided into plaits, fastened with large white bows, and their shoes were patent leather.
‘Can I help you?’ Edyth said. Close up she could see that the women’s faces had been scrubbed clean, but there were traces of eyeblack around the eyebrows and lashes, and their noses and lips were shiny with the residue of the cream they had used to remove their makeup.
‘You don’t remember us, do you?’ the woman with red hair asked.
‘Yes, I do, Mrs Hughes.’
‘Don’t suppose there’s much point in saying sorry we beat you up now, although we are. If we’d known who you were we wouldn’t have touched a hair on your head.’
‘You should have said you were going to marry the vicar,’ a blonde woman reproached in a pronounced Irish accent.
‘I believe I tried, but you weren’t listening,’ Edyth commented drily.
‘You don’t hold a grudge, do you?’ Anna asked.
‘It’s forgotten, by me at any rate,’ Edyth answered, insincerely.
Anna pushed forward the two girls who were trying to cling to her. Both were shy and plain. The younger of the two gazed up at Edyth through enormous brown eyes.
‘Me and the girls,’ Anna began, ‘well, we got to talking and we thought we’d like the kids to go to Sunday school. Reverend Richards didn’t like us coming to church. None of us. He tried to make us feel like dirt, said he didn’t even want our money polluting the collecting plate. I suppose you and Reverend Slater think the same.’
Edyth remembered the text of Peter’s sermon that morning. ‘Let he who is without sin among you …’
‘Reverend Slater made it plain from his sermon this morning, Mrs Hughes, that God’s church is open to everyone.’
‘See, told you.’ The blonde Irishwoman elbowed Anna out of the way and held out her hand to Edyth. ‘I’m Colleen.’
‘Edyth Evans … Slater,’ Edyth corrected. ‘Sorry, I’ve only been married a week.’
‘We’ll forgive you. So will you take our kids in Sunday school or not?’ Anna challenged.
‘I’d be delighted to have so many new scholars.’ Edyth looked around at the classes. ‘Have they been to Sunday school before?’
‘No, told you, Reverend Richards didn’t want them.’
‘Then suppose I take them as one class now to see how we get on before disturbing the other classes, and at the end of the lesson, I’ll put them in with the others in their age groups, so they can start fresh next Sunday.’
‘You going to teach us about Jesus, miss?’
Edyth kneeled down so she was on the same level as the children. ‘Not today. What’s your name?’
‘Daisy Hughes.’
‘No, not today, Daisy. Today I’ll tell you about a man called Noah who built an ark.’
‘What’s an ark?’ one of the older boys asked.
‘Trust my James. He’s always asking questions,’ Colleen said proudly.
‘It’s a sort of ship,’ Edyth answered.
‘Like we see in the dock?’
‘Yes, James, exactly like the very biggest we see in the dock.’
‘What time do you want us to come back for the kids, then?’ Anna asked.
Edyth checked her watch. ‘An hour.’
‘You know something, Mrs Slater; you’re all right.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Hughes’
‘Just Anna will do. I’m nobody’s missus.’
Edyth shepherded the children to a quiet corner at the front of the church.
‘Call in and have tea with us tomorrow,’ Anna shouted. ‘We’re only round the corner and it’s always quiet about three o’ clock in the afternoon.’
‘I’m not sure what I’ll be doing then,’ Edyth said tactfully.
‘We’ll buy you a cream cake,’ Colleen promised.
‘In that case I’ll definitely come.’
Five minutes after Anna and the other women lef
t the church, Eirlys Williams settled her class and joined Edyth just as she was beginning her story of the great flood.
‘Mrs Slater?’
‘Yes, Mrs Williams?’ Edyth looked up at her.
‘Can I have a word?’
‘Of course.’
‘These children –’
‘You heard Reverend Slater’s sermon this morning, Mrs Williams?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m putting it into practice, Mrs Williams.’ Edyth turned back to the children. ‘And God spoke to Noah –’
‘Why Noah, miss?’ James asked.
‘Because he knew he’d listen, silly,’ Daisy said. ‘Now don’t interrupt the teacher again. Carry on, miss.’
Chapter Twenty
‘Thank you for the tea, Mrs Williams,’ Edyth said gratefully as she and Peter made their way down the stairs from Mr and Mrs Williams’s ‘rooms’ above their boot-and-shoe store in Bute Street. ‘It was thoughtful of you to invite us so soon after we returned. And you really must give me your recipe for fruit scones.’
‘Reverend Slater did seem to enjoy them.’ Eirlys Williams pressed a jar of raspberry preserves into Edyth’s hand. ‘He enjoyed these, too, and I made far more than we can use. We always go fruit-picking on my sister’s farm in the Vale for a week in July. This year’s crop was very good.’
‘Thank you very much. I’ll put it to good use.’ Edyth slipped the jar into the shopping bag that she had used to carry the potted crocus bulbs Judy had bought that morning for her to give to Mrs Williams. ‘I’m afraid our house is not ready to receive guests yet, but it will be in a week or two, and the moment it is, you will be among our first invited visitors.’ She stood in front of Mr Williams so he could help her on with her mackintosh. The rain that had poured down relentlessly for days showed no sign of abating, and the Williams’ house was a good fifteen-minute walk from the church and vicarage.
‘We’ll look forward to accepting your invitation. Thank you so much for coming. It was a pleasure to have you here, Mrs Slater, Reverend.’ Mrs Williams shook hands with Edyth then Peter. Peter continued to grip her hand after he had shaken it.
‘You do understand what I said to you about Anna Hughes’s children, Mrs Williams.’
‘The key to Christianity is forgiveness, and the return of the prodigal.’ Mrs Williams was tight-lipped but she repeated the essence of the argument Peter had expounded when she and her husband had tackled him about Edyth’s inclusion of the prostitutes’ children in the Sunday school.
‘Thank you for an enjoyable afternoon, Mrs Williams, Mr Williams. A most welcome respite on my busiest day; I look forward to seeing you both at Evensong.’ Peter stepped out of the house ahead of Edyth and put up his umbrella.
Edyth thanked them again and, on impulse, kissed Mrs Williams’s cheek before taking Peter’s arm.
Peter peeled back his glove and peered at his watch after the Williams’s had closed their front door. ‘Only an hour before evening service begins.’
‘It’s been a busy day.’
‘I’m afraid this is typical of what our Sundays are likely to be from now on. I’ve been thinking over what you said, Edyth –’
‘About the bedrooms?’ she broke in eagerly.
‘About the housekeeping,’ he amended. ‘Supposing I put a fixed amount into your bank account every month? I will pay Mrs Mack and Judy Hamilton’s wages directly to them and also the gas and electricity bills. Do you think ten pounds a month sufficient for food, coals, boot and shoe repair, clothes replacement, and incidental household expenses?’
‘I’m not sure. Coals will be expensive, especially this month, as I have asked Judy to keep a fire burning in every room. The house is very cold and damp. It feels as though it hasn’t been lived in for years. I don’t think Reverend Richards could have used many rooms.’
‘Just his study, bedroom and dining room before I arrived, and I’ve never known the dining room to be anything other than freezing. I thought I’d pay in ten pounds tomorrow to cover the first month. If it isn’t enough, we can go through the figures together and either find ways to cut costs, or up the amount, although I warn you it won’t be easy to find any extra.’
‘We’re not going to have a joint bank account?’
‘No, Edyth, I really think financial matters should be left to the man in the family.’
She knew from the tone of his voice that his decision was final. ‘In that case, I’ll detail where every penny is spent from tomorrow.’
‘Good.’
‘Thank you for backing me over allowing those children into Sunday school.’
‘It’s sound common and theological sense.’ He looked down at her and smiled, and as always when they were discussing anything that wasn’t personal to them, she felt close to him. ‘No good can come of excluding them. It would build ideas of superiority in the minds of the other children and make the ones who weren’t allowed in resentful. As it is, you, and the other teachers have an opportunity to counteract the malign influences those children are being subjected to. They won’t live with their mothers for ever and who knows what you might inspire them to do when they make their own way in life? Or what heights they may reach as a result of your teaching?’
‘There may be a budding vicar in young James. The Irish woman’s son,’ she explained. ‘I’ve never heard a child ask so many questions.’
‘You were able to answer them?’
‘More by luck than by education. He really made me think about some of the things I’ve always taken for granted. I enjoyed teaching him.’
‘Perhaps you should have gone to college after all,’ he said quietly.
‘Peter –’
‘If we hurry we may have time for a cup of Judy’s excellent tea. I take back my reservations about employing her, Edyth. We would never have eaten so well today if we’d relied on Mrs Mack. Perhaps we can keep Mrs Mack on to do the washing and the cleaning and promote Judy to cook.’
Edyth quickened her pace to keep step with him. After only a week of marriage she knew that was the closest she would get to an apology from Peter regarding his intransigent attitude towards Mrs Mack. But she still couldn’t understand why he insisted on employing her when her housekeeping skills were even worse than her cooking.
Edyth woke cold and shivering before seven the next morning. She slipped on her robe and went into the bathroom. Peter’s toilet bag and shaving kit were neatly laid out on a shelf next to the bath. She felt the brush in the shaving mug and opened the tin of shaving soap. Both were damp so she knew he was already up and, she suspected, working in his study. She bathed and dressed, then went downstairs to find the door between the kitchen and the washhouse open and Mrs Mack sorting through the laundry bags they had brought with them from Pontypridd.
‘The girl’s cooking the Reverend’s breakfast,’ Mrs Mack barked abruptly.
‘Good morning, Mrs Mack,’ Edyth said pointedly in the hope of inculcating some manners in the woman. ‘I presume you’re referring to Miss Hamilton?’
‘The Reverend told her to carry on, even after I came down,’ Mrs Mack continued as if Edyth hadn’t spoken.
‘Reverend Slater and I have decided that Miss Hamilton should take over the cooking,’ Edyth informed her.
‘Did you now? You could have told me. Anyway, I thought I’d make a start on the washing.’ Mrs Mack straightened her back and adjusted the hosepipe she was using to fill the gas boiler from the cold tap.
‘Can you wash?’ It was only after Edyth blurted out the question that she realised how tactless it sounded.
‘I’ve been washing for over fifty years. And as you’ve had your way and stopped me from cooking for the Reverend, what else should I be doing?’ she demanded crossly.
‘Cleaning, Mrs Mack,’ Edyth suggested. She bent down and scooped up her fine silk underclothes and woollen frocks from the floor.
‘I cleaned this house before you came. You’ve only been back a day. That’s not enough ti
me to dirty it.’
‘All the paintwork needs washing down, Mrs Mack. You can start in the hall. And as soon as you’ve finished the paintwork there, you can give the floor a good scrub.’
‘The tiles are damaged,’ Mrs Mack declared. ‘You won’t get them no cleaner than they are, and as for the paintwork, the entire house has only just been decorated. Everyone knows you shouldn’t wash new paint. If you do, you’ll damage it.’
‘Not if you use soft soap and water,’ Edyth countered. ‘And the paintwork needs washing because there’s wallpaper paste and bits of paper left by the decorators all over the skirting boards.’
‘The washing needs doing first.’ Mrs Mack continued to heap Peter’s white linen shirts, dog collars, cotton vests and pants into a pile.
Edyth held her breath and counted to ten in an effort to control her temper. As Peter was intent on keeping Mrs Mack on, it made sense to give the woman something to do. She consoled herself further with the thought that there wasn’t anything the housekeeper could do to ruin white cotton and linens – unless she chose to boil them with coloureds that bled out their dyes. But if Peter hadn’t bought his underclothes and shirts pre-shrunk, they shouldn’t be boiled at all, not if they were to keep their shape and size. However, if Mrs Mack should ruin Peter’s clothes it would annoy him. He might even see sense and get rid of the woman.
Edyth bundled her own clothes together and looked around to make sure she hadn’t missed any. ‘You may do the Reverend Slater’s washing, Mrs Mack, but not mine.’
‘Please yourself. Although I would have thought you had enough to do without rinsing out your own frills and fancies.’ Mrs Mack fingered an oyster silk camisole draped on top of the bundle Edyth had made.
Edyth examined the washhouse. It ran half the length of the back of the house. The roof was glazed like a conservatory as were the sides, but because of the high walls that surrounded most of the house it was as dark and gloomy as the sitting room and dining room. Two lines had been strung across the full width, both ornamented with the type of dolly peg sold by gypsies, but given the lack of light and warmth Edyth could imagine wet washing hanging there for days, all the while gradually growing colder, damper and, in time, mildewed.
Tiger Bay Blues Page 36
