She saw Mali Richardson talking with Mary Sutton, the two women beautifully dressed as befitted their stations in life. But Gina did not envy them, no doubt they waited as she did with heavy hearts, for shells and bombs were no respecters of persons. She could not see Rhian anywhere, but knew she must be on the platform somewhere for she had left the mill house early.
There was a surge of people behind her and Gina found herself thrust forward almost into the arms of Mary Sutton, who steadied her with a smile.
‘There’s sorry I am,’ Gina gasped, righting her bonnet, ‘I hope I haven’t crushed your lovely frock.’
‘Don’t you worry about that.’ Mary was looking down from her elegant height and Gina felt small and dumpy in comparison.
‘Have you someone coming back from the Front?’ Mary asked and Gina knew that she was simply being polite. She swallowed hard. ‘I’m waiting for Billy Gray. I’ve been minding his little girl for him up at Rhian’s place, just until he comes home.’ She was irritated with herself for feeling the need to explain, sure that Mary Sutton wouldn’t be the least interested in her reason for being at the station.
‘Oh, there’s good you are!’ It was Mali who spoke. ‘I knew that Delmai Richardson had abandoned the little girl and I wondered how poor Rhian Gray would manage to bring up a child alone.’
Gina looked into Mali’s open honest face and liked her at once. She might be married to a rich copper boss, but she had not forgotten her origins and still spoke in the language of the Welsh.
‘It’s true enough,’ Gina spoke more confidently. ‘Cerianne is such a sweet little child, she’s like a sister to my boy Dewi.’
‘I have two children,’ Mali volunteered, ‘a boy and a girl. They take a bit of looking after too.’ The women exchanged sympathetic smiles.
‘Aye, Cerianne and Dewi lead me a dog’s life at times, but they’re good babbas really and I can’t imagine what I’d do without them. Rhian’s got Katie Murphy helping in the mill now, so I can give all my time to the children – it makes things much easier.’
Gina wondered why she was babbling on like a fool, but Mali seemed genuinely interested. Mary Sutton kept looking along the track as though willing the train to come and Gina understood and shared her sense of urgency.
‘Katie is a good friend of mine,’ Mali said in her soft voice. ‘I’m glad she’s not working in the munitions factory any longer, it was an awful job for anyone to do.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know how I can keep talking like this,’ her eyes met Gina’s, ‘I suppose it’s because I’m so nervous.’ They smiled at each other in complete understanding.
The crowd shifted and moved and Gina found herself separated from Mali Richardson. Their lives had never crossed before, but Gina had been aware of the impact on the town when Mali, a copperworker’s daughter, had married the rich copper boss. She had wondered in passing if it was the rich life which lured the young girl away from her own background but now, meeting Mali, she knew that there was nothing grasping or underhand about her.
Restlessly Gina stared around her. She would have to return to the mill soon, for there was a limit to Carrie’s patience and she would be none too pleased at being left with the children all day. She sighed and stepped back, leaning against the rough stone wall of the station office; she would give it another half-hour or so and then go home.
Carrie dressed the children with quick, determined fingers. ‘There’s a soft old woman you are,’ she told herself fiercely, ‘the only one in Sweyn’s Eye not to be down at the station, I’ll bet my last penny. Come on, Dewi, get your little hand into your shirtsleeve now; don’t be twp, boyo.’
Cerianne was dressed and waiting. She was a good and obedient child and her large eyes looked trustingly up at Carrie. When Dewi began to grizzle, Cerianne took his hand in a motherly way.
Carrie grasped Dewi’s other hand firmly and turned to look down at Cerianne.
‘Hold on to my skirt now, and don’t let go. The streets are dangerous these days, what with all the traffic coming and going. Not like in my young days – quiet it was then, so quiet.’
She laughed out loud at herself, seeing how ridiculous it was to talk to the children as if they could understand. And yet Cerianne had a wise look in her large eyes which made you think she knew just what you were talking about.
By the time she reached the station her feet ached, and to Carrie’s dismay Dewi began to grizzle again.
‘Duw, I never did meet such a misery as you, boyo. Stop that at once and if you’re good, Carrie will buy you some sweeties.’
The station was thronged with people and Carrie pushed her way through the crowds, searching eagerly for Rhian or Gina, anyone who could take responsibility for the children. She was getting too old for such things. Yet deep within her was the knowledge that she was here for one reason only: to welcome Heath Jenkins home from the war.
She had never forgotten that he had lain with her, made her feel like a woman, reached some part of her that was alive to him and him alone. Like a foolish old woman she loved him, a part of her would always love him.
She caught sight of Gina then and thankfully hurried towards her. ‘I couldn’t keep away,’ she said breathlessly, grasping Dewi more tightly as he tried to pull free.
‘Come here, Dewi!’ Gina swung her son into her arms and he leaned against her shoulder, his eyes already drooping wearily. ‘That’s right, boyo, you go off to sleep and then we’ll all have some peace,’ she added ruefully.
Carrie stared along the silent track. ‘No sign of the train yet, then?’ she asked and Gina slowly shook her head.
‘No and nothing’s been announced either – we might all have come here on a wild goose chase.’
Carrie stared around her, recognising faces among the crowd and knowing that a common purpose had brought rich and poor alike to wait through the heat of a summer’s day. But where was Rhian? Carrie couldn’t see her anywhere. Poor child, how anxious she must be. And yet Rhian was no longer a child, Carrie realised with surprise, she was a woman grown strong and independent. But she shouldn’t be alone, not at a time like this – where was she?
Rhian brushed back a curl that had drifted across her forehead and sighed softly. She had seen Carrie hurry into the station with the children, but had chosen to remain out of sight. She was growing more tense as each minute passed and beginning to believe there would be no train, ever. Even as the thought crossed her mind, however, there was a sound of raised voices from people further along the platform. Rhian stood on tiptoe and her breathing seemed to be suspended as she saw the steam from an engine pierce the blue of the sky.
She clasped her hands together, unable to bear the tension, wanting to run and hide her face just as a child would. She swallowed hard and a tingling sensation filled her as the hoot of the train echoed along the line.
Women were pressing forward to the edge of the platform, but Rhian could not move. She wanted to scream out loud, to fall to her knees and beg heaven to let Mansel Jack be on the train, but she simply stood still, waiting – her mouth dry, her heart pounding within her as though in time with the clatter of the wheels.
A loud cheer rose from the waiting crowds. Someone brought out a huge flag and it fluttered gently in the summer breeze. Carriage doors were opening and Rhian caught her first sight of khaki as a soldier sprang out on to the platform.
Interminable minutes passed while the throng of people began to disperse and those that were left stared with haunted eyes at the spitting, gushing train.
Then Rhian saw Mali Richardson run forward to be swept into the arms of her tall, handsome husband. Mali was weeping openly and Rhian felt her own throat constrict.
A soldier moved past her, solitary and alone, and Rhian recognised the ravaged face of Morgan Lloyd. He was limping badly, but the deep-set eyes looked out at the world with bright determination. He stopped and spoke to Carrie, shaking his head, and Carrie turned away in despair like a woman suddenly grown old.
Rhian moved away from her corner, her hands trembling. There were hardly any people left on the station now. Glancing to her right she saw Gina who was laughing out loud, staring up eagerly at the soldier who was cuddling Cerianne close in his arms. With a shock of delight she realised it was her own brother Billy and her heart warmed a little as she saw him place an arm around Gina’s boy – there was time enough to welcome Billy home.
She hurried along the platform and saw that Mary was just ahead of her, her back stiff, her shoulders tense. Even in her own dark despair, Rhian could feel pity for Mary Sutton.
Mary was breathless with pain and fear. She had watched other couples embrace and her own loneliness and sense of loss were heightened.
‘Are there any other soldiers on the train?’ she asked the porter in a voice that cracked with strain. ‘I’m looking for my brother Heath…’ her voice died away in disbelief. It couldn’t be… but it was!
‘Brandon!’ She almost screamed his name, then stood quite still watching him, unable to believe the evidence of her senses. He had been reported missing and yet he was here, staring at her, his honest eyes looking into hers. In that instant she knew without doubt that she would have to tell him everything; he deserved nothing less than the truth, otherwise Mary Anne’s threat of revenge would for ever lie between them.
He held out his arms and like a sleepwalker, Mary went into them, thankful to fate for giving her this moment of happiness as she was held close in her husband’s warm embrace.
Rhian had witnessed Mary’s joy and now, in fear and trembling she moved forward. An officer suddenly leaped down on to the platform before her, his dark crisp hair jutting from beneath his cap, his eyes blazing with love as they met hers.
‘Mansel Jack!’ She didn’t remember crossing the space between them; all she knew was that he was holding her, his arms strong, his mouth tender as their lips met.
She was drowning in a mingling of relief and joy, tears thick in her throat. She leaned away from him, drinking in his presence, almost unable to believe he was really here with her.
He touched her cheek with gentle fingers and then hugged her close, burying his face in the warmth of her neck.
Rhian closed her eyes in a rush of joy. ‘Come on, cariad,’ she whispered, ‘let’s go home.’
The station was silent now, the platform empty. A flag lay discarded, fluttering faintly as though in its death throes. There would be rejoicing in Sweyn’s Eye that night. There would also be tears.
First published in the United Kingdom in 1985 by Century Publishing Co. Ltd
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2020 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
Third Floor, 20 Mortimer Street
London W1T 3JW
United Kingdom
Copyright © Iris Gower, 1985
The moral right of Iris Gower to be identified as the author 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.
ISBN 9781788639590
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.
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