War in the Valleys

by Francesca Capaldi

  ‘It’s perfectly understandable. I know it’s not the done thing to show your emotions in public, but in my experience it doesn’t do any good hiding them. Don’t apologise for caring.’

  ‘I had better get on with some work,’ said Violet.

  ‘Of course.’

  Violet moved off, not waiting to see if Elizabeth had any more to say.

  * * *

  ‘All I’m saying, Mam, is that it’s going to be a tough few months, what with the men of the family unable to work and little money coming in.’ Anwen had taken the opportunity while Hywel and Idris had gone to sit in Jubilee Gardens to share her concern with her mother. She’d only returned from London yesterday evening, but there was no time like the present to talk of the future.

  ‘Hywel is well on the mend and I’m sure he’ll be doing some work or other soon.’

  ‘He was a hewer, Mam. He won’t be able to bend his leg well enough to do that anymore. We’ve got to face facts. That thirty pounds I found under Da’s mattress isn’t going to last forever, neither will Idris’s savings, a large part of which went on going to London and some of the hospital bill that the workers’ health fund subs didn’t pay. And Cadi’s bits of sewing work aren’t enough. Perhaps I should go back to the Big House as maid again after all. I know that means you and Cadi looking after Idris and Hywel, but, well…’

  Enid bit her bottom lip and looked away. She crossed her arms before saying, ‘I wasn’t going to tell you yet, mainly ’cos I hadn’t made up my mind, but Miss Elizabeth has asked me if I’d like to take up the position. It makes more sense that you stay home to look after your recovering husband, which is what you wanted to do.’

  Anwen was miffed at being so easily replaced by the Merediths. But then, wasn’t it she who’d given up the job? They couldn’t be blamed for seeking another maid. And why not her mother? She’d done a similar job before she’d married her father.

  They heard the back door open and the chatter of the two men.

  ‘Are you sure you’re fit enough to do that?’ Anwen asked.

  ‘You know I am. Haven’t I done my bit with the housework, shopping and the garden here?’

  She certainly had, as if she was making up for the lost time. It was such a shame that Sara hadn’t lived long enough to see their mother so active again. ‘I suppose it makes sense. When will you start?’

  ‘I’ll walk over to the house today, unless Miss Elizabeth’s on the allotment here.’

  ‘She is that,’ said Hywel, hobbling through the door. ‘Are you wanting to talk to her?’

  ‘Aye, later. How was your walk? I ’ope you’re not too tired, Idris bach,’ she said as he followed Hywel in.

  ‘I do need a rest now, but it was good for the soul to sit in the gardens on a sunny day for a while, instead of being mollycoddled sat on the chaise with a blanket.’ He plonked onto a dining chair, as if in protest.

  ‘You want to enjoy it while you can, bach,’ said Hywel, winking. ‘Though I must say, I’m keen as mustard to get back to some kind of work, to pay my way.’

  ‘We’ll talk about that later,’ said Enid. ‘Sit down and I’ll put the kettle on.’

  Hywel did as his big sister told him, pulling out a newspaper from his jacket. ‘Wonder if any more countries have joined the war. What with Rumania, Turkey and Bulgaria joining recently, I do wonder how long it’ll be before every bleeding country in the world’s involved. Then how long will this whole thing last?’

  Enid tutted. ‘Enough of your swearing. We’ve got enough to worry about here. I’ve just been telling Anwen, so I might as well tell you two. I’ve finally decided I’m going to take the job at the Big House. I wasn’t going to, but they still haven’t found anybody, and it will help out with money.’

  ‘What, the one Anwen had?’ said Idris.

  ‘That’s right. Though I don’t want to do as many hours as she did, so Mrs Meredith will have to like it or lump it.’ Enid picked up the kettle’s handle with a teacloth. ‘Let’s have some tea and you two can tell us more about that London.’

  Chapter Eight

  Violet had spent the time since dropping Clarice off at school getting through the housework at a feverish pace. Benjy had devoted some of the time to playing with the train, and some of it to the garden, running around the weeds, pretending he was a train. By midday he’d been bored and grizzly. Because Violet had done all the tasks she’d allotted herself, she had set dinner early to cheer him up.

  ‘When Clarry come home?’ Benjamin asked forlornly, in between bites of bread and dripping.

  ‘Same time as usual.’

  So sad did he look, it struck her to the heart. Poor lonely little boy without a da. She scraped her chair out and went to the kitchen window, peering out into the yard, trying to catch a glimpse of the sky. ‘Shall we go for a walk after dinner, to the gardens? Then maybe call in on Anwen?’

  Benjamin lifted his head and smiled. ‘I like do that.’

  The Rhyses always made a big fuss of the children, so it wasn’t surprising he was keen to go. She wondered when Anwen and Idris would have their first child. Probably a burden they didn’t need at the moment, with him recovering from the operation. But babbies came along when they wanted to, without regard for your own wishes.

  They left soon after dinner and were heading along James Street, towards the park, when they were overtaken by Esther Williams. She was on her own, as she had been increasingly recently, her group of cackling harpies having deserted her when her husband, Edgar, had been arrested. Reaching Schenck’s bookshop, opposite the gardens, Violet met Elizabeth coming up Station Road. Violet supposed she should be civil to her, but she was fed up with her popping up in their lives.

  After greeting each other, Elizabeth said, ‘Where’s Esther off to in such a hurry?’

  ‘Home, I should think,’ said Violet, ‘since she lives on Jubilee Green.’

  ‘I wonder how she’ll afford the rent on the house, with Edgar in gaol. Her younger son, Christopher, has started working at the mine, but he won’t be earning much yet.’

  The houses on Jubilee Green were certainly among the fancier ones in the village, with their stonework and tiny bit of front yard. Violet would never be able to afford to live there. Keeping up with the rent on her current house was starting to get difficult. She pushed the thought away. ‘He’s not been convicted yet.’

  ‘But he will be,’ said Elizabeth. ‘He confessed to the crimes. I should imagine he’ll be put away for quite a while.’

  Violet wished her unwanted companion would go about her business. She’d been too friendly in their last chat and this had only served to encourage her. But instead, Elizabeth bent down to her son’s level.

  ‘Why, hello Benjy. And where are you off to? Anywhere nice?’

  ‘We go gardens, then see Aunty Anwen.’

  ‘That sounds lovely. I hope you have a good time.’ Elizabeth straightened herself. ‘Are you working on the allotments later today?’

  She could have been, instead of indulging her son, but they were only little once and she’d been there the last three days in a row, with Elizabeth working close by much of the time. She needed a rest from her.

  ‘Not today,’ Violet said, maybe a little too sharply. She softened her voice to say, ‘Can’t be bringing the children every day.’

  ‘I suppose not. I must be getting on. Cheerio, Violet. Take care.’

  ‘Goodbye Miss Elizabeth.’

  Violet was aware of Miss Meredith opening her mouth to correct her, but she hurried across the road before she was able to. She should keep to her flower shows and afternoon teas with the ladies of the district, not try to pretend she was part of their community.

  Violet opened the bottom gate to the gardens and Benjy surged ahead, stopping at all the plants still in flower to sniff at them. She sat herself down on the bench and watched as he skipped up and down the path. Perhaps she should forgo the visit to Anwen’s and take him on a longer walk on Twyn Gobaith, th
e hill behind her friend’s house. Or to the other side of the village, to the evergreen woods. She hadn’t been there since her walk with Anwen and Gwen in February. Thinking about it, Elizabeth had disturbed that too, fetching Anwen to speak to Mrs Meredith.

  Benjy ran up to her, leaning on her knees. ‘We go Aunty Anwen’s now?’

  ‘I was wondering…’ she began, when the top gate creaked open and two figures entered: Hywel and Idris.

  Hywel’s limp was still pronounced and Idris was bent over slightly, so they were both taking each step slowly.

  ‘Nice to see you out and about,’ said Hywel. His smile formed dimples in his cheeks. His dark brown hair, parted in the middle, looked like it had been cut.

  Violet wondered if smiling was fitting for a still-new widow, so tried a half smile in compromise. ‘I could say the same.’

  ‘We do try to do a walk every day.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Idris, sitting at the other end of the seat.

  This left Hywel no choice but to sit next to Violet. Searching her brain for something to say, she came up with, ‘I was thinking of taking Benjy for a walk in the woods beyond McKenzie House. It’s not a bad day, and mild.’ She looked up at the sky, half covered in cloud.

  ‘Wish we could do that,’ said Idris. ‘Love walking, I do.’

  ‘We go see Aunty Anwen,’ said the boy, a frown marring his chubby face.

  ‘I’m afraid she and Cadi have gone out,’ said Idris, ‘to visit Cadoc Beadle. He’s at home now, so people are dropping in all the time to do his shopping and the like. He seems a little better, though terribly melancholic.’

  ‘What mellycolly?’ Benjamin asked.

  ‘It’s being sad,’ said Violet, wondering if she could be described as such.

  Hywel slipped off the bench and hunkered down awkwardly next to the boy, one leg sticking out. He leaned forward, placing his hand by his mouth as if to whisper a secret. ‘I’d go for that walk if I were you,’ said Hywel. ‘And on the way, I’d get your mam to stop off at Mrs Davies’s for some chocolate. I hear she’s just had in some bars of that Cadbury’s Mexican.’

  His face lit up. ‘I like choclit.’

  ‘Who doesn’t bach?’ He pulled himself up awkwardly, a grimace on his face, prompting Violet to stand and help him.

  ‘Thank you. I still haven’t got used to the fact I can’t bend in the way I could.’

  ‘It’s getting better though, it seems,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, but I doubt my leg will ever be quite the same.’

  Violet took Benjy’s hand. ‘We’d better get going if we’re to get that chocolate and take that walk before Clarice finishes school.’ She was grateful to Hywel for cheering her son up, but she knew the chocolate would stretch the coins in her purse. ‘You’ll have to share the chocolate with Clarice though,’ she added.

  The boy pulled his mother along, eager now to get going.

  ‘Do call by after school, if you want to see Anwen,’ Hywel called. ‘She should be in then.’

  Violet turned her head back to wave at the two men. ‘I’ll see how things go.’

  She chased Benjy to the gate, not looking back again.

  * * *

  Despite the sun having long since disappeared over the horizon, there was still a slight pinkish light in the sky when Elizabeth arrived at the parish hall in Bargoed at quarter to seven. Several people were going in, but there was no sign yet of Ralph Tallis. She felt a pang of nerves, wondering what to do if he didn’t turn up. Go in by herself? She might as well, rather than waste the trip. She patted down her clothes to consider once more what she’d worn. The green velvet skirt and matching jacket were favourites of hers. The skirt was the shortest she owned, between her ankles and mid-calf. Her hat was an elegant one, with the brim rolled up at the back and trimmed with dusky pink fabric roses and green foliage. She still couldn’t decide if she’d made the right choice or whether it was a little too bold. Too late now.

  When she saw Ralph across the road, lifting his arm in greeting, she was filled with relief. He was wearing a smart dark brown suit this evening. On his head was a felt Homburg. A couple of women looked round as he reached her, giving him admiring glances.

  ‘Are you early or am I late?’ he quipped.

  ‘Neither. I’ve only been here a couple of minutes. We have plenty of time to find a good seat.’

  He offered his arm, which she took with a smile.

  The hall was so far only half full when they sat six rows back from the front.

  ‘What a shame there aren’t more people,’ she said. ‘For I’m sure Mr Lawley will be a mine of information.’

  ‘You’d hope so, with him being a Board of Agriculture inspector.’

  Only a few more people turned up before the doors were closed and a small, balding man stepped onto the podium. He gave a brief introduction before Mr Lawley himself appeared through a door, taking the man’s place on the podium to greet them. Elizabeth removed her notebook from her bag, along with a fountain pen. She was determined to glean all that she could from the knowledgeable Board of Agriculture inspector.

  Ralph leaned over to whisper, ‘That’s very efficient.’

  ‘I want to be able to go through it with my allotment team.’

  He nodded and looked impressed, which pleased her no end.

  Mr Lawley spoke of acquiring seed immune of disease, of the best varieties for the land, the use of manure and of recommended literature on the subject. She scribbled frantically, afraid she’d miss a valuable nugget of information, yet despairing at her deteriorating handwriting.

  After Mr Lawley had finished his speech there were numerous questions, particularly pertaining to local land, that the man answered admirably. Elizabeth asked a couple of them herself, pleased with the replies she received.

  At the end of the meeting, as everyone rose to leave, Ralph said, ‘You seem to have written a lot.’

  ‘I’m afraid I was the same at school,’ she laughed, ‘which didn’t always make me popular with my fellow pupils. But I have always loved learning.’

  ‘That is an admirable trait indeed. Many privileged young women like yourself are more than happy simply to spend money on clothes and sit at functions all day long.’

  She wondered just how ‘privileged’ he imagined her to be.

  They made their way towards the doors. ‘My goodness,’ he said, ‘I almost forgot to tell you. I met your mother at a Dorcalon school committee meeting. Most friendly she was too, especially when I mentioned I’d met you at the allotments.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ said Elizabeth, thinking instead, I bet she was. That may well be why he considered her privileged, what with Mama’s airs and graces.

  ‘She is clearly not enamoured of you wearing men’s clothes for the allotment though, for she was at pains to point out how well you normally dress. I told her you were well turned out the first time I met you, which seemed to be a relief to her.’

  ‘How embarrassing!’ said Elizabeth.

  They were outside now, the mild air of earlier having turned a little chilly. She wondered if he’d suggest a cup of tea or coffee somewhere, as there were a couple of cafés open this time of the evening. They stood by the hall for a few moments, saying nothing.

  ‘I can’t wait for next spring,’ said Elizabeth, hoping to prolong their evening. ‘When we can put some of these suggestions into practice, and maybe get an even better crop of vegetables than this year. I’m afraid we had some unfortunate incidences with some less salubrious members of the village.’ She recalled how Edgar Williams, Madog and Prosser the Meat had organised the destruction of the vegetables on the Cottages allotment.

  ‘What a shame. Well, it’s a little cold now, so I won’t hold you up getting to your motorcar, especially as you, like I, have not brought a coat.’

  She was disappointed, she couldn’t deny it. Perhaps this had, after all, been only about having company at the talk. Or she’d frightened him away because she had some intelligence. I
t didn’t suit all men for women to have thoughts and opinions.

  ‘However, I would like it if we could do something else together at some point in the future.’

  Her spirits were lifted no end. Maybe she wasn’t as boring as she feared.

  ‘That would be very agreeable, thank you.’

  ‘Let me walk you to your motorcar.’

  ‘It’s only around the corner, but all right.’

  When they reached the Morris Oxford he said, ‘Do you have a telephone at your house? I imagine you do.’

  ‘Yes. My mother had it installed a couple of years ago.’

  ‘Splendid. Maybe you could write your telephone number on a piece of paper from your notebook.’

  ‘It’s very easy to remember. It’s Rhymney 13.’

  He laughed. ‘I hope that will be lucky for me. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting a little cold. And I have a full day tomorrow, what with my own business and the council business too.’

  ‘What is your business, you haven’t said?’

  ‘I own a surveying and estate agency business for the upper end of the housing market with my cousin. Tallis and Fairweather.’

  It was said in a way to impress her, though she worried little about his profession. It would at least impress her mother if she ended up introducing him as… but she was running away with herself.

  ‘I’m sure it must keep you busy. Good night, Ralph.’

  He took her hand long enough to say, ‘Good night, Elizabeth.’

  She gave a sigh as she watched him disappear into the dark.

  * * *

  Three days later, Elizabeth arrived home from the allotments just before seven. Due to the gloomy day, the sky had already darkened. There was a distant noise she couldn’t make out. She removed her muddy boots in the scullery, to clean later, then headed into the kitchen on her way to get washed and changed. It was then that she realised the sound was her mother shouting. A deeper voice interrupted, though the words were indistinct.