‘And no vile mistress breathing down our neck.’ Realizing what she’d said, Meriel glanced guiltily at Julia. ‘No offence meant.’
‘None taken.’ Julia bit into her second sandwich. ‘My stepmother was horrible to all of you but she was even worse to my father and me. She might not have made us work, but she had – has,’ she corrected herself, ‘an unerring talent for finding people’s weak spots and tormenting them with their shortcomings.’
‘I wonder what she’s doing now,’ Bronwen mused.
‘I neither know nor care,’ Julia dismissed.
‘Jinny and I were talking earlier; if this weather holds, we might go to Barry Island for our next week off.’
‘The way you two carry on, you’ll kill each other,’ Meriel warned, envious because she had a different week off to the sisters and couldn’t join them.
‘No, they wouldn’t because although they fight like cat and dog they’ll always stick up for one another. I bet you’ll have a great time.’ Julia lay back on the sand and shaded her eyes from the sun.
‘Want my last sandwich, Julia?’ Rhian offered.
‘No, thanks.’
‘If you don’t eat it, I’ll feed it to the gulls. I really have had enough.’
‘If you’re sure.’ Julia took it while Bronwen rummaged in the box for the wedges of fruitcake Mrs Williams had packed for them. She distributed them together with the rest of the water bottles.
‘Seriously,’ Meriel said when the box was empty and Rhian had flung the last few crumbs for the birds, ‘does anyone want to come to the pub tonight?’
Bronwen groaned. ‘Don’t you ever think of anything other than going to the pub to meet men, Meriel?’
‘It doesn’t look like it.’ For once Jinny sided with her sister.
‘Time to make a move.’ Julia rose to her feet and brushed the sand from her uniform.
‘It’s all right for you, I wish it was my last day.’ Jinny finished the water in her bottle.
‘Last day here,’ Meriel said. ‘But not last of work. Not with a little one to look after soon.’
‘I’m looking forward to it.’
Rhian collected the bottles and empty paper bags and pushed the lid on the box. ‘I’ll carry this back, Bronwen, if you want to go to the toilet.’
‘Ta.’ Bronwen ran off and Rhian heard the strains of Ten Green Bottles coming from the factory as the shift headed back to work.
The sheds and factory, so cold and draughty in winter, were uncomfortably hot that afternoon, and Rhian felt as though they had missed out on spring by going straight from a freezing cold winter to summer.
‘No taking off your tunics,’ a supervisor shouted when Meriel untied her belt.
‘Old witch,’ Meriel hissed, ‘I’m roasting.’
‘The uniform is for your protection.’ The supervisor joined them in the shed and stood behind the girls, watching as they filled the shells. ‘You two haven’t done so well this morning,’ she lectured Rhian and Bronwen. ‘You’re six shells behind these girls.’ She pointed to Jinny and Meriel’s stack.
‘I was on initiation duty this morning,’ Rhian explained.
The supervisor moved on.
Rhian helped Bronwen shift another shell on the packing cradle and they knelt down in front of the machine again.
The workers sang the last line of Yellow Bird and, inspired by the bird theme, moved on to Only a Bird in a Gilded Cage when there was an almighty bang, flash and the world turned crimson.
The first thing Rhian was conscious of was a silence so intense it seemed deafening. Then she was aware of pain. She felt as though she were swimming upwards towards the light. Her head hurt and her eyes were glued shut. She breathed in the acrid stench of burning rubber, wool and hair. She tried to move her hand to her eyes, to open them, but someone gripped her arm and held it fast. Her face was bathed with cool water and she was covered with something soft.
She felt that she should make an effort and force her eyelids open, but it was so much easier to slip back and allow someone else to look after her. Just for a little while …
Chapter Twenty-three
Sali and Lloyd walked out of Swansea railway station, to see rows of people lining the pavements either side of High Street.
Noticing a relatively clear spot lower down outside the Mackworth Hotel, Lloyd took Sali’s arm and steered her towards it. All the shops were closed and their blinds were drawn, but the most noticeable thing was the silence; no one said a word, not even the children, and no traffic moved. It was almost as though they had stumbled into a cinema and were looking at a film that had frozen in the projector.
They stood and waited. Ten minutes later, an undertaker in full mourning dress and a black silk top hat, walked slowly out of the station yard ahead of a glass-sided hearse drawn by a pair of black-plumed black horses. The hearse was flanked by eight munitionettes, four to a side, dressed in full uniform and marching in slow step. A second undertaker followed them, walking in front of another hearse that was flanked by a similar complement of young women.
The coffins and the tops of the hearses were covered with wreaths and bouquets of bright spring flowers but it was still possible to make out the Union Jack flags that covered the caskets.
Lloyd slipped his arm protectively around Sali’s shoulders as the first hearse drew alongside them. He had never felt prouder or sadder. Still bearing scars and burn marks, the first two munitionettes in the lines were Julia and Rhian.
*……*……*
‘Mrs Williams warned us in her letter that neither of you would come back to Ynysangharad House with us.’ Sali poured the tea they had ordered and passed cups down to Lloyd, Julia and Rhian.
‘Not that her letter stopped Sali from hoping that you’d change your minds,’ Lloyd said.
‘We’re both fine where we are,’ Julia protested.
‘I’ll grant you that I look odd with my eyebrows, lashes and hair burned off, but it will soon grow back,’ Rhian said philosophically.
‘Your hair as well?’ Sali asked in horror.
‘Just the front bit that wasn’t protected by this awful beret. Until it grows back I’ll carry on pulling my hat down low.’
‘You can’t seriously want to go back to work in that factory after what happened to your friends?’ Lloyd took a sandwich from the plate Sali offered around the table.
‘The other girls have.’ Rhian sipped her tea. ‘Bronwen, who worked in Llan House with me and lives in the boarding house with us, was working right next to me but she was blown clear by the explosion. She had hardly a scratch on her but it was her sister, Virginia – Jinny – who was killed, alongside our friend Meriel. Everyone expected Bronwen to pack her bags and go back to Tonypandy, but she was one of the first to go in the sheds and help with the clearing up the next day.’
‘But it’s so dangerous,’ Sali protested.
‘I think they know that, sweetheart,’ Lloyd said flatly.
‘It’s bad enough to have to worry about my brothers and Lloyd’s at the Front. But now you as well.’ Sali bit her lip in an effort to hold back her tears.
Rhian gave a grim smile. ‘It’s far worse for the boys at the Front. We have accidents but these are the first deaths. However, as the vicar just said at the funeral, at times like this we all have to make sacrifices, women as well as men. And the soldiers need all the bullets, bombs and shells we can make if we’re going to win this war.’
‘Forgive my language, ladies,’ Lloyd shook his head, ‘but it’s one hell of a price to pay for victory.’
‘The doctor said I’ll be fine to go back on Monday.’ Rhian tried to sound more cheerful than she felt. The boarding house was empty without Meriel and Jinny and the bickering they engendered and she knew Bronwen and Julia were as devastated as her by their sudden and violent deaths. ‘The worse of the burns on my face have already healed and there’s only one left on my hand.’
‘Julia, talk some sense into her,’ Lloyd pleaded.
>
‘Or do you intend going back to the factory as well, when your wounds have healed?’ Sali studied the bandages on Julia’s hands. They were so thick it was impossible to see the extent of the damage.
‘Julia can’t.’ Rhian glanced from Sali to Julia. ‘I’m sorry, you probably haven’t told them yet.’
‘No, I haven’t.’ Julia steeled herself. She had deliberately allowed Mrs Williams and Rhian to think that she had seen Geraint since his enlistment and he was the father of the child she was carrying, but there was no way that she could expect Sali and Lloyd to believe that, when they knew for certain that she hadn’t seen him in over ten months.
‘What news?’ Sali asked.
Embarrassed, Julia glanced at Lloyd and looked away.
‘If this is ladies’ talk, I’ll go and buy some cigarettes.’ He left his seat.
Julia blushed, ‘There’s no need to go on my account, Lloyd.’
‘I really do need cigarettes. I’ll be back in ten minutes.’
‘I’m having a baby,’ Julia said when Lloyd walked away.
Sali looked at Julia’s waistline. ‘That is good news,’ she began cautiously.
‘Isn’t it?’ Rhian agreed enthusiastically.
‘You must come to Ynysangharad House and stay with us so we can look after you. It will be wonderful for our children to have another cousin to play with. Does Geraint know?’
Julia looked Sali in the eye. ‘I haven’t had a chance to write to him yet with everything that’s been happening in Pembrey. And it’s early days. The baby isn’t due until Christmas.’
Sali began to talk enthusiastically about layettes, nursery furniture and practical matters, but Julia saw that she understood why she hadn’t written to Geraint. Simple arithmetic dictated that her baby had been conceived in March when she had been living with her and Lloyd in Ynysangharad House and Geraint had been miles away in France.
When Rhian went to talk to Bronwen, who came into the teashop with a crowd of munitionettes, Julia said, ‘I will write to Geraint to tell him about the baby, Sali.’
‘It might be as well before he hears the news from someone else,’ Sali agreed.
‘I’m sorry …’
‘You have nothing to apologize to me for. I never could understand why someone as bright and intelligent as you married Geraint knowing that he didn’t love you and was only after your money. Will you divorce him and marry the father?’ Sali ventured, curiosity winning over tact.
‘Geraint can divorce me if he likes, but there’s no question of me marrying the baby’s father,’ Julia answered.
‘He does know about the baby?’
‘No, and there’s no reason for him to.’
‘You don’t intend to tell him?’ Sali asked in surprise.
‘No. He has his own life and I don’t want to complicate it. The baby won’t be a problem; it will be a blessing. Marrying Geraint gave me my independence when I needed it. Now that I’m alone, I find it difficult to understand why I didn’t have the courage to walk away from Llan House and set up my own household without marrying him, but hindsight is a wonderful thing. The one thing I don’t regret is this … indiscretion.’ She gave Sali a small self-conscious smile. ‘It will give me someone to love and I need that desperately after losing my parents and brother. In fact, I’m happier looking forward to the birth than I have been for a long time.’
‘But March … you spent that time with us, in Ynysangharad House,’ Sali said uneasily.
Wary lest Sali guess the identity of her lover, Julia said, ‘I wasn’t there every day and I stayed in the White Hart in Tonypandy the week after my father died so I could be on hand to arrange his funeral.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. But I want you to know that Lloyd, the children and I love you. You’re a member of our family and welcome to stay with us any time. You will have the baby in Ynysangharad House?’
‘Thank you for the offer, but I’d prefer to stay with Mrs Williams for the time being.’
‘I doubt Geraint will come back to Pontypridd to stay with us ever again. And after you tell him about the baby I rather suspect that he won’t want to see you again either.’
‘We should never have married, but that’s not why I won’t stay with you in Ynysangharad House. I may not be a munitionette any more or be able to do any heavy work because of the baby, but I can help Mrs Williams and the girls around the boarding house in small ways. And after what’s happened to Meriel and Jinny, I’d like to stay close to Bronwen and Rhian. I’ve become very fond of them.’
‘I can understand that. And from the postcard Rhian sent us, Pembrey looks a lovely place.’
‘It was prettier before the factory was built. But there are beauty spots close by and after living in Tonypandy for so many years it will be nice to spend the summer close to the sea. Could you do me one favour?’
‘Gladly, if I can.’
‘Give Mr Richards my address and ask him if he’d be kind enough to visit me. After what’s happened to my family and now Jinny and Meriel, I’ve learned how tenuous life can be. I want to make a will and arrangements for my baby to be cared for should anything happen to me.’
‘Childbirth isn’t anywhere near as dangerous as it used to be,’ Sali reassured.
‘I’m not worried about the birth,’ Julia said calmly.
‘And you have already given up work?’
‘Yes, but being pregnant has made me think more seriously about the future, and not just mine, the baby’s. I want to make provision for its upbringing and appoint guardians for him or her, in the event that I am unable to care for it. Would you and Lloyd consider becoming godparents?’
‘I’m sure I am speaking for Lloyd as well as myself when I say that it would be an honour,’ Sali said sincerely. ‘And we would take our responsibility towards the child very seriously.’
‘I know you would, that is why I asked you. There is also someone else I want to ask.’
‘Rhian?’ Sali guessed.
‘It has taken me this long to realize that since mother’s death she has been my closest friend. The mistress and the maid situation came between us in Tonypandy. It’s been so much easier here. You’re lucky to have her for a friend.’
‘I know.’ Sali smiled when she saw Rhian and Lloyd walking back towards their table together. ‘But then, she has also been very fortunate to have you as a friend.’
The summer was a long and hot one, and Rhian wasn’t sure whether it was because she was becoming accustomed to working in the factory, or the work itself was getting easier, but the fact remained that she didn’t find it the chore she had done when she had first started.
After Meriel and Jinny’s deaths and funeral, a routine of sorts developed. She went into work with Bronwen every morning except on her week off, and returned to spend her evenings with Julia. They sat outside on a bench in the garden when the weather was warm enough, reading or playing cards with Mrs Williams, and after Julia bought a gramophone, listening to the records she ordered from Cardiff.
They all missed Jinny and Meriel, but as the casualty lists of those killed at the Front grew longer every day, and the newspaper print listing the names of the dead grew smaller, tragedy simply became an accepted part of life. Nobody could ignore or avoid the terrible deaths in their communities because there was scarcely a family in Wales that hadn’t been touched by loss brought about by war.
They went to Pontypridd to stay with Sali a couple of times but when Julia’s pregnancy became advanced enough to be noticeable, she preferred to stay in the comparative seclusion of the boarding house and Rhian remained with her.
Life wasn’t as good as when she had been engaged to Joey, or even when she’d lived with Edward in Tonypandy, but it was tolerable, and she might have even been content, if Joey had replied to her letter. She knew that he was as well and safe as any soldier could be in France, because she asked after him in her letters to Sali and Megan and they passed snippets of news back.
When Sali told her that Joey had taken a commission as a second lieutenant, she broke her own rule about not writing to him until he had written to her, and sent him a congratulatory card. But she still heard nothing. And when summer faded and the cold autumn sea winds gusted up the estuary, blowing leaves from the trees and withering the last of the roses on the bushes Mrs Williams tended on the front lawn, she decided that he must have found another girl.
But even then it wasn’t easy to put him out of her mind. There were too many memories for her to forget, and she didn’t even want to try.
One dark November evening, Julia sat in the inglenook after supper, toasted her feet by the fire and re-read the letter she had received from Geraint that morning. It was only the second he’d sent to her since she had written to tell him that she was pregnant. And the first, sent in May just after he had received hers, had been so vitriolic she had burned it.
Dear Julia,
I received your last letter and although I accept that our marriage was based on an unconventional agreement, I trust that you will understand that I cannot possibly remain married to you while you give birth to a bastard.
Therefore if, as you say, it is impossible to arrange a divorce at such short notice I demand you contact a solicitor and at the very least arrange a formal separation. In the meantime I insist that you furnish him with full proof of your adultery, and urge him to arrange a divorce as speedily as possible. You can forward me the relevant papers to sign as soon as they become available.
I trust that you will continue to pay the annuity of two thousand pounds into my account. I was not the one to break our bargain. Other than the papers that will need to be signed, this will be the last communication that you will receive from me.
Geraint
‘A letter from your husband?’ Rhian sat next to Julia on the bench seat. Like Mrs Williams, she had been concerned by how few letters Geraint had sent to Julia since she had become pregnant.
‘Yes.’ Julia thrust it into her pocket.
‘Another month and you should have good news to tell him.’ Rhian looked at Julia’s swollen body. ‘Mrs Williams said the doctor was pleased with you when he called today.’
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