by Iris Gower
‘Jayne, my love, what are you saying? If you left Dafydd, how is it you were held prisoner by him?’
‘When I ran away, he came after me and forced me to go back to the house. He took all my clothes and locked me in my room. I’ve been a prisoner for days and it’s only thanks to Sal that I managed to escape.’
Eynon was about to speak again but Llinos caught his eye and shook her head silently. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and Jayne went on talking.
‘Dafydd found Guy and took a whip to him and, oh, Father, it’s all such a mess.’ Big tears rolled unchecked down Jayne’s mud-stained cheeks. ‘Dafydd’s gone mad! He’s abused me in the worst sort of way – he’s even had poor Rhiannon put in prison and I just can’t live with him any more so I’ve come home to you, Father.’
‘How did he abuse you?’ Eynon’s voice was ice cold. ‘Did he beat you?’
‘He forced me, Father, and it was then I knew my marriage was dead. Don’t let him take me back because I swear I’ll kill myself rather than live with him.’
‘I’ll kill him!’ Eynon’s face was white.
‘Now, Eynon, keep calm,’ Llinos said gently. ‘Nothing can be gained with further violence. Jayne is safe now. She’s done the right thing by coming home. No woman deserves to be treated roughly, even by her husband, but you going off in a temper won’t achieve anything.’
Jayne looked at her gratefully, ‘Llinos is right, Father.’ She pushed her wet hair off her face. ‘I knew you of all people would understand, Llinos, though I’ve no right to expect you to stand up for me, not after the way I’ve treated you.’
‘That’s all in the past now.’ Llinos took Jayne’s arm. ‘Come along, let’s get you into some dry clothes and then we can all calm down and talk things over sensibly.’ She turned to Eynon. ‘Ask some of the maids to take hot water upstairs for Jayne to bathe.’ Her eyes beseeched him to understand: Jayne needed comfort and support now.
‘Come on.’ Jayne gestured to Sal. ‘You must have a hot bath too or you’ll catch your death.’
As Llinos went upstairs with Jayne, and one of the maids took Sal to the kitchen, she heard Eynon giving instructions to the maids, his voice edged with anger. She prayed that Dafydd would have the sense to keep away from him, at least for the time being.
Soon the maids were climbing the stairs with jugs of hot water to fill the bath and Llinos picked up the rough shawl Jayne had been wearing.
‘I would never have thought it of him,’ Llinos said, without thinking. ‘I can’t imagine Dafydd behaving violently to any woman, let alone his wife. No woman deserves that sort of treatment from any man.’
Jayne glanced at her with world-weary eyes. ‘But, then, your Joe never beat you or imprisoned you when you took a lover, did he? It takes a very special man to behave like that and Dafydd is not a special man.’
‘I realize that now,’ Llinos said. ‘He’s just an ordinary man who reacted badly when he found his wife no longer wanted him. He must care for you a lot, don’t you think?’
‘Don’t be fooled, Llinos. He told me point-blank that he intended to make your son his heir.’ She stepped into the bath. ‘He said he would recognize Sion publicly as his son.’
‘He can keep his hands off my son,’ Llinos said hotly. ‘That boy is fiercely loyal to Joe’s memory. I won’t have Dafydd bandying my name around so that everyone can start gossiping about me again.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Jayne said drily. ‘Everyone will be so interested in me, aghast that I’ve left Dafydd for Guy, that they won’t bother with stale news any more.’
She was probably right, Llinos thought. Mrs Jayne Buchan was a woman of note: the daughter of a rich man and the wife of an even richer man. The scandal would rock the town from end to end.
When Jayne had got into the bath, Llinos left her and returned to the drawing room to be with Eynon. He was sitting in his chair with his head in his hands and Llinos put her arms around him. He spoke without looking at her. ‘I thought tonight was going to be the happiest time of my life, with you agreeing to marry me at last. Now this happens. What am I going to do about it, Llinos?’
‘Jayne’s happiness and well-being are what’s important now. Our wedding can wait a little longer.’
‘No.’ He sat up straight then, his arms closing around her waist. ‘No, Llinos, I don’t want to wait. Our plans will go ahead as soon as possible, have no doubt about that. But what am I going to do about Buchan? I feel I want to kill the man with my own hands.’
‘I think Dafydd is already being punished.’ She spoke softly. ‘His pride is hurt, of course, but in his heart he loves Jayne, I’m sure of it. The fates will take care of Dafydd’s punishment. There’s no need for you to lift a finger.’
Eynon smiled. ‘That sounds like Joe’s philosophy.’
‘I suppose it does but I believe it. What does it say in the Good Book? “What you sow you will reap”?’
‘I suppose you’re right. You’re a wise old owl, aren’t you, Llinos? And I love you for it.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘But you must understand that Jayne is a woman now, not a child. She’ll organize her life the way she wants it to be, not to satisfy convention, and I admire her for it.’
‘Well, you’ve always been a bit of a rebel yourself, haven’t you, Llinos? And I suppose that’s why I love you so much.’ Eynon stood up and wrapped his arms around her. She clung to him, happy that she could bring him some comfort, however small.
‘Well, Rhiannon, it looks like you’re going to get out of here.’ The guard opened the door of the cell and stood smiling at her as if she was his best friend.
Carefully, as if fearing even now that this was a hoax, Rhiannon stepped out into the corridor. ‘Why am I to be let out? What’s happened?’ She blinked a little in the sudden light from the lamp the gaoler held aloft.
He gestured to a shadowy figure at his side and Rhiannon frowned. ‘This is Mrs Paisley. She is in charge of the Paradise Park Hotel and she has honest work for you.’
Rhiannon stepped back a pace. ‘I’m not going there – it’s a whore-house.’
‘It’s not like that any more.’ The woman stepped forward and Rhiannon saw that she was dressed in respectable clothes with a good cloak over her shoulders. ‘I know the Paradise Park has had a bad reputation in the past but now I’ve bought it. I intend to run it as a proper hotel.’
‘Am I being let out of prison just to work for you, then? You must have a lot of influence in Swansea.’
It was the guard who replied. ‘You’ve been in prison, girl. It wouldn’t be easy for you to find decent work. Now Mrs Paisley’s offered you a position you should be grateful for it.’
‘Look, my dear,’ Mrs Paisley put her hand on Rhiannon’s arm, ‘I’ve been talking to Mr Morton-Edwards. He came forward and cleared your name, but you know as well as I do that mud sticks.’ She shrugged. ‘What you do now is up to you.’
Rhiannon nodded. ‘I see. Thank you, I’ll take the position, of course.’ She collected her small bag of possessions and followed Mrs Paisley to the door of the prison. When she stepped outside, she breathed in the salt air that blew in from the sea and knew that, for whatever reason, she was free.
‘I have to thank you, Mrs Paisley,’ Rhiannon said. ‘But why would you pay me good money to work for you when plenty of respectable girls are looking for a job?’
‘Well, you’ve had excellent experience as a housekeeper to Mrs Jayne Buchan, and if Mr Morton-Edwards is willing to put his trust in you that is enough of a recommendation for me.’
‘How did Mr Morton-Edwards know I was innocent?’
‘It’s a long story, child, but the bare facts are these. Mr Morton-Edwards’ daughter has gone home to him and I expect she told him the truth about what happened. He had an interest in the hotel himself but thought that too much work was involved in renovating it so I took it on. Now, are you sure you’re up to the job I’ve offered you?
’
‘Well, I’ve had experience looking after a household, keeping accounts and such, and I know how to lay out the silver for a banquet. Mrs Buchan has trained me well.’
‘There we are, then.’ Mrs Paisley began to walk slowly along the road and Rhiannon fell into step beside her, matching her footsteps to those of the older woman. She sighed heavily. Such a lot had happened since she was taken into prison.
Mrs Paisley glanced at her. ‘Why the sigh? Surely you’re happy to be free, and you’ve got a good position waiting for you.’
‘I can’t help but think you don’t really need me. You must have found out about my regrettable past.’
Mrs Paisley glanced at Rhiannon. ‘My dear, when you’re as old as I am you’ll realize that today’s matrons are yesterday’s harlots.’ She smiled. ‘But I will be relying on you to sort out the respectable couple from a man taking a loose woman to one of the bedrooms for the night.’ She paused for breath and stopped walking, her hand on her heart. ‘Duw, the old lungs are not what they used to be.’
Rhiannon looked at her in concern. ‘Are you all right, Mrs Paisley?’
‘Aye, just getting old, my dear. Come on, it’s not far now.’
In spite of her shortness of breath Mrs Paisley was determined to talk. ‘I’ll pay you fair wages, though it won’t be much, not right away. When things improve at the hotel we can review the situation.’
Rhiannon said nothing but took a deep breath of the fresh air. It was so good to be free.
She walked slowly along Potato Street and through Calvert Square, and as she turned the corner into Wind Street there in front of her was the Paradise Park. Her heart lurched. She had rarely done business there: most of her customers had been navvies, and too grudging to spend money on a night in a hotel, but the place still gave her a feeling of shame.
However, the Paradise Park had once been a splendid place and Rhiannon remembered that she had admired it once before. She could imagine how it must have been in the past, fitted with fine furniture and wonderful chandeliers. But that was before it had become a place where men took their doxies. Now it was run down and badly in need of attention. Rhiannon hesitated outside the doors. She felt as though she was about to slip back into her past. But she had a future here and a sudden surge of optimism made her smile. She would make the Paradise Park a good place to be, however hard she had to work.
Inside the hotel it was clear that Mrs Paisley had already begun to improve the look of the building. Gone were the cheap red curtains that had once hung over the windows: they had been replaced with new ones made from good material in sensible colours. The lighting, too, was different: instead of low lamplight kept on at all times, the sun was allowed in through scrupulously clean windows. With a few chairs and tables the foyer would make a good place to meet and take tea.
‘I’ll show you to your room,’ Mrs Paisley said, ‘and when you’ve settled in we’ll talk.’
‘Talk about what?’
‘Well, for one thing we’ll have to get you some clean clothes.’ Mrs Paisley wrinkled up her nose. ‘I suggest you get washed, and by then there will be a fresh outfit on your bed. And, for goodness’ sake, do something with that wild hair, will you?’
The furniture in Rhiannon’s room was plain but good; the curtains were made from the same fine material as those in the foyer, the same pattern too. Rhiannon smiled: Mrs Paisley had clearly bought an end-of-line cloth cheaply. Still, that was good: it showed the lady had money sense and that was something Rhiannon could appreciate. But it was clear, too, that Mrs Paisley needed lessons in running a hotel profitably. As yet no guests inhabited the rooms and the foyer remained empty and unused. Rhiannon hugged herself. Here was a new beginning and she meant to make the most of it.
The next day Rhiannon started work on the books. Mrs Paisley, she found, had a good head for figures but was haphazard in recording her outgoings. So far nothing was coming in and Rhiannon wondered how well off Mrs Paisley was.
At lunch, which they took at the bare kitchen table, Rhiannon brought up the subject of money. ‘All your funds are outgoing, Mrs Paisley. Now, if we were to let the top floor to travelling businessmen there would be money flowing in instead of just out.’
‘Have you looked at the top floor?’ Mrs Paisley asked. ‘The entire place needs cleaning out and we’d need workmen to hang wallpaper. Then there’s furniture, beds and the like; we can’t let empty rooms.’
‘There should be plenty of beds here. If I can get new sheets and blankets somehow, we’d be in business.’ Suddenly Rhiannon felt alive for the first time since she’d been accused of theft and flung into gaol. ‘I’ll get you men who’ll work for the price of a night out, and wallpaper too. Just trust me.’
‘All right, then,’ Mrs Paisley said. ‘But, Rhiannon,’ she continued, meeting her eyes, ‘please don’t let me down.’
‘I won’t let you down, you can count on that.’ Rhiannon beamed. ‘I’ll make a start right away, shall I?’
‘Good heavens, you’re like a whirlwind, girl – go on, then, if you’re set on it. Here, you’d better have some money to start with.’
Rhiannon took the purse Mrs Paisley gave her and tucked it inside the waist of her skirt. ‘Give me an hour or two and I’ll have it all sorted out.’ She went to the door. ‘And, Mrs Paisley, your trust in me will be well rewarded, I promise.’
It was good to be walking in the fresh air, and Rhiannon sighed with contentment. She had a good job, a roof over her head, and she was free as a bird. When she had helped Mrs Paisley to knock the Paradise Park into shape she could move on, if the mood took her.
‘Rhiannon!’
The voice came from behind her but Rhiannon recognized it at once. ‘Bull Beynon, you gave me the fright of my life, creeping up behind me like that.’
He looked down at her and took her hands. ‘I heard you were sent to prison and I meant to come to visit you, but Katie wasn’t too well and then the baby had croup and . . . well, I’m sorry, Rhiannon.’
‘You don’t have to apologize to me, Bull, there was nothing you could have done.’
‘Well, it’s a good thing Mr Morton-Edwards put the authorities straight, isn’t it?’
‘I know he cleared my name but that’s all.’
‘I meet with him sometimes and he told me his daughter has been sending letters to everyone concerned in the case, stating that there was no theft of jewels, that they were a gift to you from her.’
‘I see,’ Rhiannon said. ‘That was good of her.’
‘It’s only what you deserve. What are you doing now you’re out of prison?’ he asked, releasing her hands suddenly as if he had become aware that he was being over-familiar.
‘I’ve taken a position at the Paradise Park. It’s going to be a respectable hotel and I want it to be the best in Swansea. I need men to clear the rooms and cart the rubbish away.’
‘I can help you with that,’ Bull said. ‘A few navvies are left in town and they’ve been laid off because there’s no work for them. I’ll rally them and send them round, shall I?’
‘Oh, Bull, that’s very kind of you. I’d thought of the navvies already but I’d rather you approach them than me.’
‘If you’d have a place for Seth Cullen I know he’d be grateful. The poor man lost his leg in an accident but he’s healing well and keen to work again.’
‘If you recommend him that’s good enough for me.’
Bull smiled down at her. ‘I wish you all the luck in the world. If anyone deserves to succeed you do.’
Rhiannon flushed with pleasure. Bull’s good wishes meant a great deal to her.
She watched him walk away from her and resisted the temptation to run after him. She pulled her jacket around her waist and felt the money pouch in her skirt, which reminded her that she still had a job to do.
Rhiannon made her way to the back of the Mackworth Hotel and slipped inside. There was a hum from the kitchens, the clatter of pans, the clink of china and
the sound of voices. One day, she thought hopefully, the Paradise Park would be as busy and as thriving as the Mackworth.
She found the caretaker in a small room tucked away in a corner of the lower floor of the hotel. He looked up from his desk with surprise. ‘Yes?’ he asked, his eyes appraising her. ‘Have you lost your way?’
‘No.’ She smiled in what she hoped was a charming manner. ‘I might be able to put a bit of money your way, though, if you can help me.’
He got to his feet at once. ‘What do you want? Not after gentlemen residents, are you?’
‘No!’ Rhiannon spoke hastily. ‘I’m looking for some end-of-roll wallpaper, stuff that’s been left over – you know the sort of thing.’
He frowned. ‘Aye, I might be able to help you there – for the right price – but I’ll have to have a root round in the cellars.’
‘Perhaps I can wait here for you?’ Rhiannon took the purse out of her skirt and shook it so that the coins jingled pleasantly.
‘I won’t be long.’
While Rhiannon waited for him to return she looked round the corridors and peered into a few rooms to see how they were decorated. Mostly the paper was of a silky appearance in discreet colours that blended with the furnishings. It would do well for the Paradise Park.
It was almost half an hour later that the caretaker returned. He had dust on his cheek and some rolls of paper under his arm. ‘There’s quite a lot down there, too much to carry,’ he said. ‘In any case, I’d have to move it in the dark.’
Rhiannon nodded. ‘What if I give you some money now, as a gesture of good faith, and the rest when you bring it over to the Paradise Park?’
‘Aye, can’t see anything wrong with that.’
Rhiannon tipped some coins on to the desk then held out her hand. ‘We’ll shake hands on the deal, shall we?’
‘Aye.’ He took her hand briefly, then stepped back as if fearing she might attack him.
‘I’ll see you later on tonight, then,’ she said. ‘Meet me at the back door of the hotel and if I like the goods I’ll give you the rest of the money.’