‘We have some very fine wristwatches, Miss Larch. If you will come this way, I trust we will be able to accommodate you.’ Geraint stood back to allow Julia to precede him to the jewellery counters. He clicked his fingers at the assistant. The young man folded the cloth he’d been using to polish a chain and stood to attention in front of them. ‘Would you prefer to see gold or silver wristwatches, Miss Larch?’ In one sentence Geraint downgraded the assistant to an errand boy.
‘Gold.’ She gripped the counter to steady herself. So far her plan was going better than she’d fantasized in her wildest daydreams. She was basking in the warmth of Geraint’s body as he stood next to her, breathing in the heady aroma of his cologne, richer and spicier than her father’s. The breath caught in her throat as her imagination ran riot and she pictured herself spending every day of the rest of her life with him.
He took the tray the boy handed him and she noticed that his hands were square and capable, with manicured fingernails. He flicked open half a dozen boxes in turn. ‘All gold and, as you see,’ he handed her a watch, ‘all hallmarked eighteen carat. We do, of course, have nine carat, which some gentlemen prefer as it doesn’t mark or show signs of wear so easily. We also have watches with leather straps, which are more suited to an active gentleman.’
Wishing the assistant to the other end of the store, Julia tried to concentrate on the watches but they all looked the same to her. ‘I’d prefer eighteen carat.’ She recalled that her father’s pocket watch was eighteen carat and she didn’t want to buy him anything less.
‘These are Swiss made.’ He lined up the boxes in front of her. ‘As you are aware, Miss Larch, Swiss movements are prized for their accuracy and quality.’
‘How much is this?’ Julia held out the one he had handed her.
‘At twenty guineas, that is the most expensive we stock. The price reflects the quality of the gold in the case and strap. And that particular model has an eighteen jewel movement.’
‘I’ll take it.’ She had chosen the watch solely because it was the first one Geraint had handed her.
‘An excellent choice, Miss Larch.’ Geraint tried to keep his voice on an even and subservient keel as befitting his position. But it wasn’t easy. The watch Julia Larch had taken barely five minutes to purchase would cost her more than he earned in six weeks. ‘It will be waiting for you at the cashier’s desk when you leave. Do you have any other purchases to make?’
Julia opened her handbag when the assistant moved to the other end of the counter to invoice and wrap the watch. ‘No, Mr Watkin Jones, I do not. But,’ she rummaged past her purse, hairbrush, smelling salts, handkerchief, fountain pen and cologne, too terrified to look up at him in case he rejected her, ‘Miss Bedford has asked me to sell tickets for a Women’s Suffrage Society meeting to be held on Friday in the YMCA. There will be several eminent speakers and refreshments will be served afterwards.’
‘What time is the meeting being held, Miss Larch?’
Her spirits soared. He wouldn’t have asked the time if he didn’t want to attend, and surely he realized that she had only asked him to buy a ticket because she would be there. ‘Seven o’clock, Mr Watkin Jones.’
‘Then I am afraid that I will not be able to attend. The store is open until ten o’clock on Thursday, Friday and Saturday evenings.’
Julia stuffed the tickets back into her bag and snapped it shut. ‘Of course, how stupid of me.’
‘I am embarrassed to confess, Miss Larch, that I know virtually nothing of the Women’s Suffrage Society.’ Geraint sounded anything but. ‘I do, however, have Mondays off. Perhaps you would do me the honour of accompanying me to Cardiff, where I can buy you lunch so you can enlighten me as to the aims of the organization. And afterwards, if you have time, perhaps we could visit a motion picture theatre?’
‘I would like that very much indeed, Mr Watkin Jones. Thank you.’ Overwhelmed, she found it difficult to restrain her relief – and delight.
‘Shall I meet you at twelve o’clock on Cardiff station?’ Geraint knew that if he arranged to meet her on Pontypridd station, they would be seen and tongues would wag. His experience with Elizabeth Hadley had taught him that if he were going to succeed in his aim of marrying money, his courting would have to be circumspect and out of the sight of his target’s parents.
‘I will be there, Mr Watkin Jones.’
‘Until then, Miss Larch.’ He gave a slight bow, but was careful not to touch her or shake her hand lest anyone notice their familiarity.
‘Until then, Mr Watkin Jones.’
He remained at the jewellery counter, watching as she walked to the cashier’s desk. Her figure was more suited to a washerwoman or barmaid than a lady of fashion. Her clothes were drab, her complexion even dingier. She was worse than plain, she was ugly, and he wondered why he hadn’t thought of Julia Larch before he had approached Elizabeth Hadley.
An unattractive girl was bound to be more appreciative of a man’s attentions than a pretty one because the experience would be entirely new to her. Julia was of age, her own mistress, and rumoured to be worth a fortune. He had also seen at first hand the antagonism between her and her stepmother. As a consequence, she would probably be anxious to leave home. All he had to do was discover her exact worth and if it was sufficient for him to live the life of a gentleman, woo and marry her. Then he would be able to leave Gwilym James – for good.
‘Mrs Evans told me to tell you that she is waiting in the fitting room, Mr Evans. And on no account are you to accompany your fiancée there.’
‘I know when I’m not wanted,’ Joey answered the doorman in a resigned voice. ‘I’ll meet you back here in one hour,’ he said to Rhian. ‘If you are going to be any longer, send someone down to tell me that you’ve been delayed.’
‘I will.’ Rhian walked up the stairs to the second-floor fitting rooms.
‘Is Mr Horton in?’ Joey didn’t particularly want to see the manager but he felt that as he was in the store he ought to pay his respects.
‘Mr Horton is away attending a family funeral, Mr Evans. But Mr Watkin Jones is in the manager’s office. Shall I tell him that you want to see him, sir?’
‘There’s no need for you to trouble yourself, Sam.’ Joey forced a smile. ‘I’ll announce myself.’
*……*……*
Julia crossed Market Square, entered the arcade and walked into the teashop. Oblivious to the women sitting around her, she ordered a plate of cream cakes and a pot of tea. She had made progress. Only a beginning, but an auspicious one. She felt as though she had taken her first step on the path that would lead her to the rest of her life, and hopefully a better and happier one than the one she was living at present.
Joey knocked once on Mr Horton’s office door before walking in. Geraint was sitting behind the manager’s desk, staring into space.
‘So sorry to disturb you when you are hard at work.’ Joey closed the door behind him.
Geraint’s face darkened. ‘It is customary to wait outside a door until permission is given to enter.’
‘I am a manager; you are an assistant manager.’ Without waiting to be invited, Joey sat in the visitor’s chair.
‘You are not the manager of this store.’
‘I hold a senior position to yours in the company.’ Joey pulled a silver case from the inside pocket of his coat. He opened it and removed a cigarette without offering it to Geraint.
‘A monkey can wear a crown and still remain a monkey,’ Geraint said childishly.
Joey flicked the silver lighter Lloyd and Sali had given him for Christmas. ‘Tonia told me that you two are finished. Did you walk away from her because of what I told you about Connie’s store?’
‘What happened was between Antonia and me, and is none of your business.’ Geraint moved his chair back and it hit the wall.
‘Careful, you’re chipping the plaster, and that won’t please Mr Horton. You know how particular he is about his office.’
‘He allows me to us
e it in his absence.’
‘Really?’ Joey raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘And for your information, what happened isn’t just between you and Tonia. She is eighteen, three years under age, and six years younger than you. Tell me, if you weren’t after Connie’s store, why did you set out to seduce her?’ Joey’s tone was conversational, the expression in his eyes, menacing.
‘I didn’t,’ Geraint blustered, ‘I –’
‘Before you say another word, I saw exactly what you were doing to my cousin.’
Intimidated by the look in Joey’s eyes, Geraint left his chair and backed towards the door, but Joey was quicker than him. He leapt up and hit Geraint soundly on the jaw.
Caught off guard, Geraint flew back and hit his head against the wall. He slid down, slumping in a crumpled and bleeding heap at Joey’s feet.
‘It’s beautiful, Sali, but a gown like this costs the earth. I couldn’t possibly afford it.’ Rhian gazed at herself in the cheval mirror. She was finding it difficult to believe that the reflection was her and not an illustration of a princess from one of Bella’s fairy tale books.
The store’s senior dressmaker, Miss Collins, took a pin from one of her juniors and tucked in a fold of white satin at the back of the gown. She concealed it beneath the train that flowed loose from the shoulder seams and swept for a full yard over the ground behind the hem. ‘This particular model is two sizes too large for you, madam. But I doubt you’ll find another wedding gown that will suit you half as well.’
‘It is perfect, Rhian,’ Sali concurred.
‘It will take twelve weeks to make one to madam’s exact measurements. It’s the Austrian crystals, Mrs Evans,’ Miss Collins apologized to Sali. ‘They are a special order and we have to send to Vienna for them.’
‘Rhian has plenty of time, Miss Collins. She is not getting married until the first of August.’ The gown was the height of fashion but that wasn’t why Sali had picked it out. The instant she saw it, she knew that it would highlight Rhian’s slim figure and delicate colouring. Slender-cut with a high waist, knee-length lace over-tunic and richly-beaded lace and satin train, it was decorated with pendent bands of sparkling crystals that swung in glittering hoops from the shoulders to the hips.
‘Shall I order one made in your measurements, madam?’ Miss Collins asked Rhian.
‘All you need is a lace veil, crystal tiara, elbow-length lace gloves and satin slippers to transform you into the perfect bride, Rhian. And I don’t want to hear a word about money. Your outfit is Lloyd’s and my wedding present to you and Joey.’
‘I couldn’t –’
‘You could.’
‘My wedding dress is hardly something for Joey,’ Rhian demurred.
‘The woman inside it will be. But are you sure that you don’t want to look at any others? I’d hate to think that I forced this one on you. We have a wide selection of more traditional as well as fashionable gowns.’
Rhian shook her head. ‘None of them could possibly make me look as good as this one does.’
‘They wouldn’t,’ Miss Collins concurred.
‘Then you’ll let me buy it for you?’
Rhian hesitated.
‘It would give Lloyd and me such pleasure.’
‘Yes, please, but only if you let me buy the accessories,’ Rhian conceded.
‘I won’t because a wedding outfit is a package. Miss Collins, you’ll take Rhian’s measurements and send for the appropriate accessories?’
‘I will, Mrs Evans.’ The dressmaker reached for her tape measure.
Sali glanced at her watch. ‘As we’re running over the hour, I’ll tell Joey that you’ll be late. You’ll come to the house for tea?’
‘I’m sorry, we can’t. Joey’s made an appointment for us to see Father Kelly and we promised to visit Victor and Megan afterwards.’
‘We were there yesterday. Give her my love, kiss the twins for me and we’ll see you next week.’
‘You will, and thank you. I never thought I’d have a wedding dress like this.’ Rhian glanced back into the mirror.
Sali opened the door and saw the supervisor from menswear running towards her. She stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind her.
‘Mr Paige sent me to get you, Mrs Evans. Mr Watkin Jones has met with an accident in Mr Horton’s office.’
‘Joey, how could you?’ Sali demanded irately after Geraint had been examined by a doctor, packed into a cab and sent back to Ynysangharad House to be cared for by his housekeeper.
‘Very easily.’ Joey rubbed his fist. His knuckles had already turned the peculiar shade of red that precedes severe bruising.
‘I’ve often felt like hitting Geraint myself, but I’ve always managed to control myself. Couldn’t you?’
‘No.’ Joey lifted his head and looked her in the eye.
‘If Geraint has done something to you –’
‘Not to me, but to someone close to me.’
‘Rhian?’ Sali asked quickly.
He shook his head. ‘Please, don’t ask me any more questions, Sali. I can’t answer them.’
‘Why?’ she demanded.
‘Because I made someone a promise and I won’t break it.’
‘You do realize that I will ask Geraint about this.’
‘He won’t give you any more answers than I have.’
‘You seem very confident about that.’
‘I am,’ he declared flatly.
‘Geraint’s my brother; I have a right to know what he’s done.’
‘Not when the knowledge will hurt a third …’ Joey almost said ‘and innocent party’ but given Tonia’s recent behaviour the last thing he could call her was innocent.
‘You’re fortunate Geraint refused to press charges.’
‘He knew what would happen to him if he tried.’ Joey left the chair and went to the door. ‘And if it ever came out, it wouldn’t be just me hitting him.’
‘Lloyd, Victor?’ Sali looked at him in alarm.
‘I’ve said all I am going to. Do you think Rhian will be ready now?’
‘Possibly,’ Sali answered non-committally.
He opened the door. ‘Do me a favour, don’t mention this to her.’
‘I won’t, but you can bet your last sixpence that someone has by now. Gossip flies around this store faster than smoke up a chimney.’
‘You do know that I would tell you if I could.’
She nodded. It wasn’t idle curiosity that had led her to press Joey. The alternative to not knowing why Joey had hit Geraint was imagining all kinds of lurid reasons. And given Geraint’s faults, she hated herself for even thinking what some of them might be.
Sali was right, Rhian had heard about the altercation between Joey and Geraint before she’d left the fitting room. And she was as annoyed as Sali at his refusal to tell her any more.
‘We have time to lunch in the New Inn,’ he offered, in an attempt to change the subject.
‘The New Inn is monstrously expensive.’
‘A celebratory lunch for our engagement,’ he suggested, elated by his momentary success in steering the conversation away from him and Geraint.
‘After hearing what you’ve just done, I’m hardly in the mood for a celebration and I shouldn’t think you’d be either,’ she reproached.
‘I’m hungry. I’ll settle for a sandwich and a cup of tea in the arcade if you won’t go anywhere else.’
‘Why won’t you tell me why you did it?’ She recalled his reticence the week before when they had called into the store. ‘This has something to do with what happened last week. You said that you’d quarrelled with Geraint then.’
‘I can’t talk about it,’ he pleaded.
‘Won’t, more like.’
‘Can’t,’ he corrected, ‘and as you only get one day off a week, let’s not spoil it.’
‘Just answer me one thing.’ She laid her hand on his arm, and stopped him in the middle of Market Square. ‘Is it about a girl?’
‘I made
someone a promise,’ he hedged.
‘A girl someone?’
‘Not a girl I’ve gone out with or even looked at in the way I’ve looked at you.’
‘I didn’t think there was a girl left within a ten-mile radius that you haven’t gone out with.’
‘I swear I have never regarded this one as my girlfriend, not even for a second.’
‘And telling me more would break your promise to her?’
‘Yes,’ he confessed miserably.
‘Why did you promise her anything if she means nothing to you?’ When he didn’t answer her question, she said, ‘Only last week you made me a solemn promise. Do you make a habit of going around promising girls whatever they ask of you?’
He gripped her by the shoulders and pulled her into the shelter of a doorway. ‘I made you a promise. I won’t and haven’t broken it. And I’ll swear that on the Bible if you want me to. What happened between Geraint and me is nothing to do with any girl that I’ve ever gone out with.’
‘You mean it?’
His eyes were dark, anguished. ‘Yes.’
‘If I ever find out that you’ve lied to me, Joey, I’ll walk away from you and keep on walking. There’ll be no second chance.’
‘I know.’
‘Let’s go to the New Inn and have lunch.’
‘And then we’ll go back to Tonypandy and see Father Kelly about booking the wedding before visiting Victor and Megan.’
‘Yes.’ She tried to smile, but a tiny maggot of doubt wormed away at the back of her mind, poisoning her thoughts and magnifying every reservation she’d ever had about accepting Joey’s proposal.
‘A visit from my sister. I am honoured,’ Geraint watched his housekeeper pour, sugar, milk and stir his tea, before taking a piece of toast from the rack she had set on the table. ‘I take it you haven’t come for breakfast?’ he enquired caustically when Sali shook her head at the housekeeper’s offer of refreshments.
‘No, I haven’t, Geraint.’
‘I’ll ring if I need anything else, Mrs Andrews.’ He dismissed the elderly housekeeper, who left the room and closed the door behind her.
Knowing that if she waited for an invitation to sit down she’d wait for ever, Sali sat opposite her brother at the table. ‘By the look of you, you’ve fully recovered.’
Sinners and Shadows Page 13