Not One of Us
Page 37
Lydia stared at him, blinking. ‘You’re not selling us shares,’ she said, ‘you’re making us partners. The payment is just a legal fiction.’
‘Yes. I’m making you equal partners. That’s the only way in which I can conceive of us all continuing to live and work together. So… What do you say?’
Historical notes
Courting in bed
Unlikely though it seems, I didn’t make up the whole concept of courting in bed for the purposes of my plot; for exactly the reasons Harry mentions in the book, it was a custom widely practised in Wales in the mid nineteenth century. The practice died out as the century progressed, partly as a reaction to the opprobrium heaped on it by the infamous Report on the State of Education in Wales, 1847, and partly as a response to the creeping anglicisation of culture and mores that took place in Wales during the Victorian era.
Interestingly, it was not unique to Wales but was also practised in other parts of the UK and in the Netherlands, making its way to America with emigrants where it was practised in some areas throughout the nineteenth century and is rumoured to be sanctioned, still, in some Amish communities.
The Teifi Valley Woollen Industry
I’ve taken the liberty of bringing forward the start of the industry in the Teifi Valley by a few years in a way which is wholly plausible in terms of contemporary economics, based on all the infrastructure plans that Jem Harborne mentions in the book.
Harborne’s statement that there was only one spinning mill in the Teifi Valley in 1851 is true and the kind of development he is proposing didn’t really come into being until a decade later, in the early 1860s. The epicentre of the industry was further up the Teifi Valley in Dre-fach which later came to be known by the suffix Felindre – mill town. But, by the 1880s and 1890s there were woollen mills of varying sizes all over the lower Teifi valley and the valleys of its tributaries. Some survive today.
You can visit the National Wool Museum in Dre-fach Felindre, right in the heart of Harry’s jurisdiction, between Newcastle Emlyn and Llandysul. And, if you’d like an idea of what woollen mills were like in Harry and John’s day, you can visit Melin Tregwynt, a small, whitewashed mill in a remote wooded valley in Pembrokeshire. Both the museum and Melin Tregwynt still make woollen textiles, though not the flannel for clothing that Jem Harborne was intending to produce.
To see pictures of the sort of mill Harborne was planning, have a look at Elvet Woollen Milll’s website. The history detailed there is very typical of the kind of resourcefulness seen in Teifi Valley entrepreneurs as they repurposed buildings for a new and different industry.
Deep Water Port of Refuge in Cardigan
There was, indeed, a plan to create a deep water harbour of refuge at Cardigan and Mr John Lloyd-Davies, mentioned in the book as a future Cardiganshire MP, spoke in favour of it in the House of Commons in February, 1856. Sadly for the local economy then and ever since, it did not come to pass.
And it’s all plus ça change plus c’est la même chose because, in writing about Harborne’s enterprising plan to make use of infrastructure that was still on the drawing board, I was inspired by the case of an entrepreneur in London who acquired land and built up a business to take advantage of the new Crossrail line in London, only to go bankrupt as a result of endless delays in the line’s completion.
The Carmarthen and Cardigan Railway
The Carmarthen and Cardigan railway was planned as an extension of the South Wales Railway to link the two ports and it seemed likely to improve economic conditions locally, especially when combined with the plans to expand Cardigan’s port facilities mentioned above. However, failure to raise enough finance for the scheme meant that it was delayed and, from the opening of the first section to Cynwyl Elfed in 1860, the railway was loss making. It was extended as far as Llandysul by 1864 but the line to Newcastle Emlyn wasn’t completed until 1895, well after the Carmarthen and Cardigan Railway had been absorbed by the Great Western Railway. The final stretch from Newcastle Emlyn to Cardigan was never completed, with a ‘charabanc’ or bus service linking the two towns instead.
Cilgerran slate
Cilgerran slate quarries were part of the wider slate quarrying industry that ran in a band through Pembrokeshire and parts of Carmarthenshire and included more than a hundred quarries. In Cilgerran, most quarrying was carried out on the south or Pembrokeshire side of the Teifi though there was some work on the other bank. The slate was then transported down-river to Cardigan. Some of the slate was used for buildings locally but much was exported directly by railway for use within Britain with the remainder being exported by sea.
As mentioned in the book, legal action was taken against those quarrymasters who allowed the river Teifi to become fouled with debris which posed a danger to the ships that came up on the tide to load.
Though there were almost a dozen quarries in the Cilgerran area, some of which survived into the early decades of the twentieth century, nothing remains of this important industry and, now that nature has done what nature does and reclaimed the workings and spoil heaps, visitors to the area might find it difficult to believe that it ever existed.
Contemporary Medicine
If Dr Cadwgan Gwynne struck you, dear reader, as being a little fanciful, believe me when I say that he’s quite vanilla when compared with the real-life nineteenth century father and son who inspired him. John and Henry Harris – known as ‘the wizards of Cwrt Y Cadno’ – came from the Cothi Valley in Carmarthenshire and they plied their trade, very much as Dr Gwynne is described doing, until Henry’s death in 1849. If you’d like to know more about them, do look up the paper by Richard C. Allen entitled ‘Wizards or Charlatans, Doctors or Herbalists? An Appraisal of the ‘Cunning Men’ of Cwrt Y Cadno, Carmarthenshire’. It’s available as a pdf online.
But in case you were wondering, the people of Wales were not unique in hedging their bets between modern medicine and what might be called traditional practice. Wikipedia has an excellent, thoroughly-researched article on ‘Cunning Folk in Great Britain’ which is well worth a read in this context.
Meigan Fair
Harry’s reminiscences of Meigan Fair are based in reality as it was one of the major social events of the lower Teifi Valley. Ffair Feigan was a cattle-selling fair that took place in Eglwyswrw every year on the first Monday after All Souls’ Day (2nd November, though St Meigan’s Day is actually on the 1st of November).
By the way, Meigan Fair shouldn’t be confused with the rock festivals known as Meigan Fayres which took place in the village between 1973 and 1975 in a time when the lower Teifi Valley played host to many young people trying to escape the rat race and live a more ‘alternative’ lifestyle. (Universally known locally, when I was growing up there, as ‘the hippies’.) Incidentally, if you look at the Meigan Fayres’ website it will tell you that Meigan Fair took place in the summer. I can find no evidence for this – Welsh newspapers of the 1840s mention it taking place in November and Kelly’s Directory for South Wales lists it as occurring on the date above in 1910. But then, outdoor rock festivals wouldn’t be as attractive in November.
Buildings
The Sergeant’s Arms inn still exists on Eglwyswrw’s main street, though it’s now a private house, and the building which was once the inn’s stables – otherwise known as the Armoury – stands opposite.
The eighteenth century Pendre Inn in Cilgerran is still there, serving the refreshment needs of locals and visitors alike.
Felindre Farchog still boasts the little college building mentioned in the book as being near Dr Gwynne’s house. It is a 17th-century building founded by Sir George Owen and modernised in 1852 in the Gothic style to house the Court of the Lordship of Cemais.
I must confess to playing fast and loose with the location of Eglwyswrw’s forge as I needed it to be where I’ve placed it for obvious plot reasons. Apologies to descendants of Eglwyswrw’s blacksmiths for taking the liberty!
Acknowledgements
As always, I�
�m going to kick off by thanking the one person in the world without whom none of my books would be written a) because I’d probably be too fed up and b) because I would definitely be too busy scrabbling together a living instead of just contributing a part-time salary to the family finances. Edwina, you keep me sane, keep a smile on my face, keep all the paperwork in order, stop me polishing the skirting boards and make our garden one of the places I love most in the world. Thank you, my love, for everything.
2020 was a strange year for writers. We couldn’t get out and about – no crime fiction festivals to attend, no bookshop signings to do, no readers groups to speak to. It was all very dispiriting. A lot of writers, me among them, missed those opportunities to meet our friends and readers acutely, and it was brought home to us how important a part those opportunities to get out and talk to people play in our writing lives. Thank goodness (and all their organisers!) for all the online opportunities writers were given this year. I’d like to say a particular thank you to the inimitable Jacky Collins whose online interviews have been such a lifeline for me and many other authors this year.
As we could only see family and friends online, suddenly we were all Zoom officionados. (That’s my next acknowledgement – give a very big medal to the team who developed Zoom because, without it, I’m not sure how any of us would have coped during the Covid pandemic.) But I was luckier than most. Our son, Rob, and his then-fiancée-now-wife Floriane abandoned homeworking in their little London flat and came to live with us for the duration. Thank goodness for the luxury of a house big enough for us all to work in separate rooms and the luxury – for me at least – of working in the garden. (See paradise, above…) Thank you, guys, for being here with us – having you to spend time with was wonderful.
Our other son, Sam, was also a lifeline of sanity during the writing of the early parts of Not One Of Us, not least in suggesting and organising weekly family quizzes during those months when it was impossible to see each other. Sam, those quiz evenings, and being able to spend virtual time with everybody, were one of the saving graces of lockdown and I’m not going to forget winning the identify-the-chocolate-bar-cross-sections round in a hurry. (Signs of a chocolate-gobbling youth – Lion Bar anybody?)
Just before the pandemic hit, my previous publisher, Dome Press, was taken over by Canelo and I blanched at the thought of how lockdown was going to affect getting new editions of the series printed, shipped and into bookshops. But Canelo managed it all with incredible aplomb and the new editions were in bookshops more quickly than anybody could have anticipated – huge thanks, Michael Bhaskar and Iain Millar, for your herculean efforts on that front. And to Iain for making my day, my week and my month by comparing the Teifi Valley Coroner books to Phil Rickman’s Merrily Watkins series – you couldn’t have made a comparison that pleased me more, Iain!
Canelo have also been very accommodating in the matter of editors and have allowed me to work with author and freelance editor, Russel Maclean, who has now edited all but one of the Teifi Valley Coroner books. Russel, it’s been such a joy working with you again. Not only do you ‘get’ my books you also make me up my game and keep me from my own worst excesses. I hope we have many more books to work on together.
While we’re on the subject of editors, I’d also like to thank the eagle-eyed Jane Selley for the marvellous job she did in copy-editing Not One Of Us. Jane, you made it a pleasure to read through my proofs!
Bookshops are an author’s life-support as readers are their life’s blood, so thanks to Emma at Book-ish bookshop in Crickhowell who, while I was writing Not One Of Us, asked me to do an online launch event with Book-ish for my previous book. That event allowed me to believe that perhaps 2020 wouldn’t be a year totally devoid of sales due to lockdown after all. And thanks also to all the brilliant bookshop owners who have been such stalwart supporters on social media this year – particularly Matt at Chepstow Books, Karen and Nikki at Gwisgo Bookworm in Aberaeron, Bethan at Victoria Books in Haverfordwest and Tim at Cover to Cover in Mumbles. I’m enormously grateful to you and to all the other bookshop owners who have been supportive online this year.
Writers depend on the support of their peers and I’m lucky enough to have two amazing groups of writing friends who have been more vital even than usual in the weird year during which Not One Of Us made its way into the world. Thanks so much to the Macmillan New Writing crew – we may not have been able to occupy our usual table in Browns for more than a year, now, but you’ve been there for me and, for that, I’m enormously grateful. And to the gang at Crime Cymru, the Welsh crime writers’ collective, I’d just like to say that you are all awesome and thank you so much for your support and for keeping the faith with me.
Thanks to all the book-bloggers who’ve been so supportive and who have written such lovely reviews of my books – those reviews make all the difference in spreading the word to a wider readership. Particular thanks to Karen at Bookertalk who has been so supportive of me and of Crime Cymru as a whole. I do hope you all like Not One Of Us!
Heartfelt thanks, as always, go to David Headley because, without him, the Teifi Valley Coroner books wouldn’t have seen the light of day and I would never have found myself on the wonderful roller-coaster that writing books about Wales is proving to be. Thank you, David, for believing in Harry and John.
And finally, thanks to you, my readers. I feel I’ve got to know some of you on Twitter and Facebook and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the emails, tweets and Facebook messages you’ve sent. I literally couldn’t do this without you.
The Teifi Valley Coroner Series
None So Blind
In Two Minds
Those Who Know
Not One Of Us
Find out more
About the Author
Alis Hawkins’ first novel, Testament, was published by Macmillan after winning a national competition. She works for the National Autistic Society and is a member of the Society of Authors and the Crime Writers’ Association. She lives in Coleford, Glos., in the Forest of Dean.
Also by Alis Hawkins
The Teifi Valley Coroner Series
None So Blind
In Two Minds
Those Who Know
Not One Of Us
First published in the United Kingdom in 2021 by Canelo
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
31 Helen Road
Oxford OX2 0DF
United Kingdom
Copyright © Alis Hawkins, 2021
The moral right of Alis Hawkins to be identified as the creator of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Ebook ISBN 9781800324701
Print ISBN 9781800324718
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Look for more great books at www.canelo.co