Rhiannon

by Carole Llewellyn

  ‘Yes – yes, of course,’ Mair said, getting the message at last.

  ‘But this is our home,’ said Rhiannon. ‘I’m sure our dad would have wanted us to stay here.’

  ‘Of course, and I do understand, in an ideal world but... . oh dear, you don’t know, do you?’

  ‘Know what, for goodness sake?’ Rhiannon was getting a little fed up with Ethel Lewis’s unanswerable questions.

  ‘Know ... that you’re going to have to leave this house. You see, it’s the rules. This house, like mine, is tied to the colliery. When a collier leaves or ... dies, there has to be another collier in the house for the family to stay. That’s why I was so glad when your dad took on my Frank after his father passed away.’

  ‘You mean they’re going to kick us out?’ cried Mair. ‘Rhi, can they do this?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I just didn’t think.’ Rhiannon felt such a fool. Why hadn’t she remembered the plight of many of their neighbours? Over the years her father had helped where he could, either in giving them a hand to move or putting them in touch with the Salvation Army who frequently found shelter for the homeless.

  ‘They’ll not ask you to move straight away. They usually give you a week or two before they send an official from the colliery to give you a nudge.’

  ‘Oh, Rhi! Where will we go? What will we do?’

  ‘I’ve already told you. There’s no cause to worry; you can move in with me,’ Ethel said, as if that was the end of it.

  It was gone eight o’clock when Ethel Lewis eventually left them.

  ‘What are we going to do, Rhi?’

  ‘I don’t know. First Dad’s death and now this. It’s so unfair. After all the years of Dad working so hard for them down the pit, I can’t believe that they’re just going to throw us out! How dare they?’

  ‘It was kind of Ethel Lewis to offer us a roof over our heads, wasn’t it?’ Mair said, trying to calm Rhiannon down.

  ‘Yes, I suppose it was. But, Mair, Ethel Lewis isn’t family. We’d just be like lodgers.’

  ‘So? What are we going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know! Why do you always expect me to have all the answers?’ Rhiannon fell into her father’s chair. She wanted to cry but it was as if there were no tears left. How she wished she could set the clock back to when it was just herself and her dad; she’d been so happy then.

  Then she remembered the money her dad had saved each week in the old tea caddy on the dresser. ‘For a rainy day,’ he had said.

  ‘I’m sorry, Rhi. Please don’t be cross with me. I promise not to ask any more questions. It’s just ... well ... I miss him so much.’

  ‘Mair, I know. I miss him too. I didn’t mean to shout at you, honest. Now, be a love and pass me the tea caddy off the dresser.’

  ‘What? Dad’s savings?’

  ‘Yes. He’d want us to have it. Let’s see how much is in there.’

  Mair walked over to the dresser and gingerly reached for the caddy.

  ‘For goodness sake, Mair, it won’t bite you!’

  Mair handed the caddy to Rhiannon as if it was a lump of hot coal from the fire and she was glad to be rid of it.

  ‘It just doesn’t seem right, taking Dad’s money,’ Mair said.

  Rhiannon shook her head. ‘Sometimes I really don’t understand you,’ she said. Slowly she removed the lid, emptied the contents onto the table and proceeded to count them. We’ve the grand total of one pound ten shillings and sixpence. That should see us all right for a while.’ She raised her head to the ceiling and whispered, ‘Thanks, Dad.’

  Mair gave a deep sigh. ‘He didn’t even get to read Aunt Florrie’s letter.’

  Rhiannon looked towards the mantelpiece and Aunt Florrie’s unopened letter. She raised herself from the chair and, as if in slow motion, made her way to the fireplace.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Florrie Grayson was pleased to be back in Wales; this Cardiff theatre booking had been long time coming. The last time she’d visited Wales it had been a short, painful visit – to attend her sister Rose’s funeral. She still missed her sister, although Florrie had made a successful life for herself in France. Knowing that her younger sister was happy with a loving husband and child in the Nantgarw Valley had somehow meant she still had a strong foothold in Wales. Now, with Rose gone and Dai remarried, it seemed her links with the valley had greatly diminished. She shrugged off her feeling of foreboding telling herself she was being daft.

  She couldn’t wait to see Dai and Rhiannon again and, after the initial shock of hearing that Dai had remarried, she now relished the chance to meet Nellie, the lucky lady who had stolen his heart as well as her young offspring. Florrie had always had a soft spot for Dai, and secretly envied her sister, Rose, for having landed such a good, kind, hardworking man, a man whose love was so sincere. Florrie sighed; in another life maybe... . One thing was for sure: she knew he would always regard her as part of the family, as would Rhiannon who reminded her so much of herself.

  As she stepped off the train that had brought her from Dover, after she had already endured the choppy sea of the ferry crossing, she was glad to have arrived safely at last in Cardiff. Amid the hustle and bustle that inevitably followed – especially after such a long trip – she became aware of the familiar loud call from a newspaper seller, ‘Echo, South Wales Echo! Read all about it! Get your ev’ning Echo ’ere!’ It made her smile and gave her a warm glow – it was good to know that some things never changed. It made her feel she was home.

  Only as she got nearer to the newspaper kiosk did she see the tall, black-printed billboard and read: TRAGEDY AT NANTGARW COLLIERY: MOURNERS HONOUR THE DEAD. At first it didn’t register, not until she heard the caller shout, ‘Nantgarw Colliery Accident! Read the official list of the sixteen men who perished.’ Then she stopped in her tracks.

  ‘Florrie, what’s wrong?’ Walter Cahill asked. ‘You’ve gone as white as a sheet.’

  Walter Cahill, an American of Irish decent, had been her theatrical agent and manager for the past fifteen years. He had offered to represent her after a performance at the Théâtre Marigny on the Champs-Elysées, Paris. She had jumped at the chance of having an American as her agent. Florrie dreamt of making an American début; maybe Walter Cahill could make it happen.

  A month previously, when he had announced that he’d landed her a prestigious Welsh theatre booking, she’d been very excited, especially when he insisted on accompanying her. Over the years they had become very close. He was good company, an incorrigible flirt who could always make her laugh. Florrie knew she was sometimes difficult to work with, but he never reproached her. She liked him. He seemed to understand her. At one time she thought they could maybe become more than friends but he was too professional ever to mix business with pleasure. Florrie had been grateful for that. She regarded him as a true friend.

  Florrie had no regrets. The stage had always taken first place in her life. She breathed it, loved it, and lived for it. What man could ever compete with that? Mind you, she was no angel, far from it. There had been many men in her life, but they never lasted. She blamed herself. She’d come to terms with the fact that there wasn’t a man alive who would be happy playing second fiddle to her work.

  ‘Walter, would you be a dear and pick me up a South Wales Echo from the kiosk?’

  ‘No bother. You just wait there a Goddarn minute.’

  She watched him walk to the kiosk, reach for some coins in his pocket and pick up a paper. It seemed an age, but in reality was only a few seconds. He placed the newspaper in her hand and she quickly scanned the story of the fall in the colliery and, more important, a list of the sixteen dead men in bold print underneath. When she spotted the name of David (Dai) Hughes she shook her head in disbelief. Then, she tried to convince herself that it might not be her brother-in-law. Surely there were many men in the valley with the same name. But when she read on and saw his address she knew there was no mistake. Again and again she read the words. She felt light-headed, n
auseated and her legs felt like jelly.

  ‘Florrie, are you all right?’ Walter made grab for her. ‘Whoa, gal, I think you need some support.’ He smiled. ‘I know what you’re thinking: any excuse to get his arm around me, but you looked as if you were about to pass out on me.’

  ‘S-sorry, thank you, I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Come on; let’s get you to the cab.’

  Florrie couldn’t remember the car journey to the Angel Hotel or, for that matter, how she got to her room.

  ‘There, you go, gal. Home sweet home – at least for the length of the tour,’ said Walter after the porter had offloaded her many suitcases and left the room.

  Although still in a daze, Florrie had managed something garbled about the headlines and her family connection with one of the dead men.

  ‘Look, you really should rest up. Arriving back after a long trip to such damn awful news, anyone’s bound to feel like shit. I’ll leave you for a while. If there’s anything I can do just call. My room’s just across the hall.’

  ‘Walter? Don’t go. I feel so helpless. I need to get in touch with Dai’s new wife and family. I feel so guilty that I wasn’t there for them, especially Rhiannon. I should have attended poor Dai’s funeral. My sister, Rose, would have wanted me to be there! I wanted to be there! Perhaps I should go to them – take a trip to the valley? What do you think?’ She knew she was rambling but couldn’t stop herself.

  ‘Florrie, I know you’re in a state of shock, but you dashing off to your family could cause big problems. I’m speaking as your agent now. I think it might have temporarily slipped your mind that your début at the Empire Theatre is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Tonight you’ve a meeting with the musical director and costume fitter, and tomorrow you’ve a day’s rehearsal and—’

  ‘Don’t you think I know all that? But this is my family.’

  ‘I do understand, but have you considered what’ll happen if you break your contract? It’ll not only hit you financially but think of all the loyal fans who have already paid up front for tickets to see you. Why not wait a few days? We’ve a day off on Sunday. I promise I’ll drive you anywhere you want to go. What do you say?’

  Florrie nodded her agreement. Much as she wanted to be with Rhiannon, she knew that what Walter said made sense.

  Then she remembered. ‘Walter I sent them tickets to come and see the matinée show on Saturday. Do you think they’ll come?’

  ‘It’s possible, I suppose. Now come on, you must rest up. I can’t have my main gal turning up for rehearsals with dark rings under her eyes.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘Mrs Lewis, may we come in?’ Rhiannon called out as she let herself in to her neighbour’s house.

  ‘Yes, of course, love. I’ve told you before that there’s no need to stand on ceremony. My door’s always open to you two.’

  Ethel Lewis was sitting in front of a huge coal fire, her skirt hitched up over her knees, her bare legs mottled with red marks from the intense heat. Young Martha was sitting on the hearthrug, quietly playing with her building bricks.

  ‘Come on in and pull up a seat. Don’t let the pale sun fool you into thinking spring is just around the corner. There’s a dangerous cold wind today and I for one shan’t be moving far from this hearth, I can tell you.’

  ‘We’ve got some news for you,’ Mair blurted.

  Rhiannon threw her a look. They’d agreed that Rhiannon would be the one to tell Ethel Lewis.

  ‘And what news would that be then? Hang on. Let me guess. You’ve finally decided on a moving day. I was only saying to my Frank earlier today that you’d better do it soon, before you have the colliery bailiffs at your door. Am I right?’ Her smile was warm and welcoming.

  ‘Well ... yes, we have decided on a moving day but—’ Rhiannon was finding it hard to carry on.

  ‘Come on, girl. Don’t talk in riddles. Spit it out. Whatever it is, it looks as if your Mair is fit to burst from excitement.’

  ‘It’s Aunt Florrie.’ Rhiannon held the letter. ‘With all that’s been happening I forgot about this letter. It arrived the day after the accident. I left it on the mantelpiece for Dad... . Well, anyway, last night I opened it and you’ll never guess what. Aunt Florrie’s appearing at the Cardiff Empire and look, she’s sent us money and tickets for us to go and see the show!’

  ‘Well I never!’ Ethel shook her head in disbelief. ‘The last time I saw Florrie was at your dear mother’s funeral. The three of us used to be such friends; we grew up together in this very street, you know? Mind you, I never saw two sisters so different.’ She rubbed her knees, as though rubbing the memories to life. ‘Your mother, Rose, such a sweet girl, content to stay close to home – you and your dad were her life, Rhiannon. While Florrie, well, she couldn’t wait to leave the valley. She was a born show-off, loved to perform, loved to sing. Everyone believed that she was destined for great things – she had the voice of an angel... .’ Ethel sighed. ‘She’ll not know anything ’bout your dad, then?’

  ‘No. I don’t suppose so. The letter says she was only due to arrive back in the country on March the eighteenth – the day of dad’s fun—’

  ‘We’ll explain everything when we see her. Won’t we, Rhi?’ Mair interrupted.

  ‘You’re planning on going to Cardiff?’

  ‘Yes. The theatre tickets are for tomorrow’s matinée performance. We thought we could go by train and, well, Mrs Lewis, the thing is, we intend to stay with Aunt Florrie ... if she’ll have us.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Ethel said quietly. Then, turning to Rhiannon ‘Have you told my Frank about this?’

  Rhiannon shook her head, ‘No – not yet.’

  ‘Have you told Frank what?’ Frank asked as he entered the kitchen closely followed by his sister, Sadie.

  For a while no one spoke. Rhiannon flashed Ethel a pleading look.

  ‘The girls are off to Cardiff to see their Aunt Florrie,’ Ethel offered.

  ‘Cardiff? When? How? And when do you intend getting back?’

  Rhiannon caught his hand, ‘Frank?’ Her eyes filled with tears.

  He put his arm around her ‘Rhi what is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘We’re not coming back!’ Mair blurted out.

  ‘Don’t be daft, Mair. This is your home.‘ Frank looked to his mother for reassurance but there was none. He turned to Rhiannon. ‘Rhi what’s going on?’

  Ethel stood up, took a large woollen shawl from the back of the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then she picked Martha up off the rug and wrapped it around the child.

  ‘Mair, Sadie, would you both help me to get the washing in from the line? I think it’s time to give Frank and Rhi a few minutes alone.’

  Reluctantly Mair followed Ethel, Martha and Sadie into the garden.

  Frank turned to Rhiannon. ‘I can’t believe you’re planning to leave tomorrow,’ he snapped.

  Rhiannon had been so dreading this moment. ‘Frank please ... you must see it makes sense? We’re soon to be given notice to leave our home. Aunt Florrie is the only family I have left. She’ll know what to do. She’ll take us in, I’m sure.’

  ‘But it all seems so rushed.’

  ‘This way, there’s a chance for Mair and me to begin a new life. I really don’t want to stay around here. Without Dad ... it would be too painful.

  Seeing the hurt look on his face Rhiannon reached out and touched his arm. He pulled away. ‘And what about me? I thought—’

  Rhiannon quickly interrupted. ‘Cardiff’s not that far away.’ Since the accident Frank had changed. Her father had always teased her that Frank was sweet on her. If that was true then she didn’t want to hear it. ‘I’ll come to visit often, I promise,’ she smiled at him.

  ‘It won’t be the same as seeing you every day.’

  ‘It may be even better. You know what they say: “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. As soon as she said it she wished she hadn’t. It was wrong to give him false hope. He was her friend and that was how
she wanted it to stay. But the damage was already done.

  He beamed a broad smile, ‘Well, I’m definitely coming to see you off at the railway station.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ Rhiannon said, and meant it.

  Minutes later Ethel and everyone returned from the garden, Mair dutifully carrying the folded washing.

  ‘Glad to see you two smiling. All sorted out then, eh?’

  Rhiannon nodded. Although she wasn’t at all sure that it was.

  ‘Good. Now, if you plan to leave tomorrow, it’s time we got you both sorted out. Have you packed? Can I help?’

  ‘We’re not taking much – only the bare essentials. We were hoping you could store some of our things, furniture and stuff?’ Rhiannon asked.

  ‘Of course, my parlour’s almost empty. Frank? How about you get some of your butties to move it in tonight. Rhiannon, Mair, you two come for supper with us tonight.’

  ‘N—’ Rhiannon was about to protest.

  ‘I’ll not take no for an answer.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Rhiannon said, genuinely touched by her neighbour’s help. ‘We’d like that. And Mrs Lewis, I just want to say how grateful we are for all that you did for Dad and us over the years.’

  ‘Get away with you. What are neighbours for, eh? Now off you go, you’ve a lot to do. Frank, what are you waiting for?’

  ‘Has anyone ever told you what a good sergeant major you’d make, Mam?’

  They all laughed.

  ‘I’m so glad you both like beef stew and dumplings.’ Ethel Lewis smiled as she watched the two girls tuck into their meal. ‘Can’t beat a nice piece of brisket, that’s what I say. It’s my Frank’s favourite and his father’s before him. Any girl setting her sights on my boy would do well to remember that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’

  Frank looked across the table at the two girls and blushed. Sadie and Martha giggled.

  Rhiannon, sensing his embarrassment, made to change the subject. ‘Thanks for moving our stuff, Frank. We really appreciate it.’