Rhiannon

by Carole Llewellyn

  The girls shook their heads.

  Rhiannon remembered how Percy had also referred to stage door Johnnies when he escorted them backstage; now Walter had done the same and she was still none the wiser. ‘Aunt Florrie, what exactly is a stage door Johnnie?’ she asked.

  Florrie looked stern-faced. ‘Well, they’re men who wait at stage doors hoping to pick up ... meet the artists ... dancers, singers any performer, really. They’re usually after one thing – to take advantage. Don’t get me wrong, some girls are only too willing. But I strongly advise you and Mair to give them a wide berth.’

  Mair struggled to suppress a giggle.

  Walter and Florrie sat alone in the restaurant of the Angel Hotel. Earlier Florrie had suggested the girls might like to take themselves off to the ladies’ powder room to tidy up before tea was served.

  ‘What’s up, gal?’ Walter asked, gently touching her small-gloved hand.

  ‘Sometimes I think you know me too well.’ She patted his hand. ‘Oh Walter, Rhiannon has laid such a bombshell at my feet. It turns out that the girls didn’t come just to see the show. The truth is they expect me to take them in permanently!’

  ‘You’re not serious?’ But looking into her eyes he knew she was. ‘With your tight schedule you couldn’t possibly take on two young girls? You’ve far too many commitments.’

  ‘You don’t need to remind me. How could I be expected to look after two young girls? We both know it’s out of the question. It just wouldn’t be practical... . So why do I feel so bloody guilty? Walter, I’m Rhiannon’s only living relative. She truly believed I’d take her in. How am I going to tell her?’

  Walter pondered for a moment. ‘I think, in the short term, that maybe a compromise could be the answer.’

  ‘What sort of compromise?’

  ‘Well, we know that you’re contracted for the duration of the show’s run. We could let them stay with us for a while. I’m sure I could negotiate a deal for an extra room with the hotel manager.’

  ‘But what would I do with them while I’m at work?’

  ‘They both seem quite capable to me. You could always have a word with the theatre’s housekeeper. I’m sure it would do them both a power of good to be involved, maybe in the theatre’s wardrobe, laundry or even selling programmes. I’m sure there’s plenty they could apply themselves to.’

  ‘I don’t know that I want to take them in, even for a short while.’ She gave a long sigh... . ‘Whatever happens, we’ll have to get them settled into the hotel with us tonight. And it’ll give me time to think.’

  ‘Leave it with me.’ Walter looked up to see Rhiannon and Mair entering the restaurant. ‘Look, here they come. Will you be all right if I leave you for a few minutes? I need to speak to the hotel manager.’

  ‘Of course, and Walter ... thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.’

  ‘Hey chucks, I bet you say that to all us good-looking guys.’

  The girls arrived at the table in high spirits.

  ‘Aunt Florrie, have you seen the powder room? It’s enormous,’ Rhiannon enthused. ‘A lady took our coats and gave us each a clean white towel and a small bar of scented soap.’

  ‘I kept my soap; it’s in my skirt pocket,’ Mair announced.

  ‘So did I,’ Rhiannon admitted. ‘Sorry, Aunt Florrie, did we do wrong?’

  Florrie smiled. She felt a lot more comfortable in their company now that she and Walter had found a solution – albeit in the short term. ‘No. Not at all. Everyone gets a fresh tablet of soap, so yours would only have ended up in the bin.’

  ‘I’m glad we took it, then. My dad hated waste.’ For a moment Rhiannon looked pensive.

  Florrie could only imagine what hardship her young niece had suffered in her short life, but could it really concern her? It might have been easier if she had only Rhiannon to consider. Florrie wondered whether there might be a way to reach Mair’s own mother.

  A few minutes later Walter rejoined them. ‘All fixed up,’ was all he said, as he beamed a self-satisfied smile in Florrie’s direction. Then, after he had given a nod to the head waiter, a smartly dressed waitress proceeded to fill their table with a selection of tiny sandwiches, fancy cakes and a large pot of tea.

  The conversation over tea was light-hearted. Walter was a natural and found conversation easy with the two young girls. It pleased Florrie to see that both girls had taken to Walter – but then who wouldn’t? He was such a love. Whereas Florrie relied on her talent as a performer to carry her through. Mind you, she did make them giggle when, both of them having both eaten so heartily, she teased them saying, ‘I’d rather feed you two for a week than a fortnight.’

  It was only when they made to go that Rhiannon suddenly became tense. ‘Aunt Florrie, what’s to become of us?’

  Florrie hesitated. This was the moment she’d been dreading. ‘Well, the first thing we have to do is get you booked into the hotel.’

  Walter interjected. ‘I’ve already spoken to the manager and luckily there’s a room right next to your aunt, ready and waiting for the two of you.’

  Florrie threw him a warm smile.

  ‘Really? We’ve never stayed in a posh hotel before. There’s lovely, isn’t it, Mair?’ Rhainnon gushed.

  ‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ Mair said.

  ‘Come on then. We’d better get a move on. Your aunt has another show to do tonight,’ Walter urged.

  Florrie smiled. ‘There speaks the voice of an agent. But Walter’s right. I’ve been having such a good time I almost forgot about tonight’s show. Tomorrow is Sunday and my day off. What do you say to our discussing the future in the morning, over breakfast, after we’ve all had a good night’s rest?’

  Walter led the way from the tearoom to the lift situated on the other side of the impressive reception area. With its wall-to-wall red carpet and sparkling crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, so huge, it took the girls’ breath away. Rhiannon and Mair held hands and looked up in amazement as Walter pressed the button to call the lift and, as if by magic, in what seemed like only seconds later, the metal doors opened to reveal a flimsy looking metal gate which the lift attendant, a young boy bell-boy, slid to one side.

  As the lift started to ascend Mair closed her eyes. She felt light-headed. She really didn’t enjoy the feeling of being elevated at speed and was glad when the lift jolted to a stop on floor three.

  Rhiannon on the other hand couldn’t contain her excitement. ‘Ooh! What fun.’

  The bell-boy smiled.

  As they left the lift the girls quietly followed Florrie and Walter down a long red-carpeted corridor, flanked by honey-coloured panelled walls and numerous brass wall-lights.

  Halfway down the corridor the party slowed down.

  Walter fumbled with the key. ‘This is your room right next to your aunt.’ He unlocked the door and handed Rhiannon the key. ‘I’m just across the hall from you all, so if there’s anything you gals need, just knock on my door.’

  ‘Now girls, I’d like you to unpack your things and have an early night,’ Florrie instructed.

  Walter gave them a reassuring look. ‘As soon as I drop Florrie off at the theatre I’ll be back. I need to catch up with some correspondence so, if there’s anything you need ... just knock on my door.’

  With Walter gone, the girls were on their own. To their surprise their room was quite spacious, much bigger than the one they shared back home. There was a wardrobe, a dressing-table, a small writing-bureau and a closet hiding a washbasin and toilet facilities.

  After quickly unpacking they washed themselves, slipped into their nightdresses and jumped into the luxurious double bed. They were too excited to sleep and spent most of the night recalling their time at the theatre. With their heads under the bedclothes, they attempted to sing from memory all the popular songs they’d heard during the show. When sleep came at last, Rhiannon dreamt she was dancing with Gus Davenport, his arms holding her, his warm lips brushing her cheek arousing her body
with feelings she didn’t understand.

  Early next morning Rhiannon awoke, confused. She rubbed her eyes and began to take in the unfamiliar surroundings of the spacious room, which was now lit by the shafts of daylight that filtered through a gap in the heavy brocade curtains.

  Leaving Mair still fast asleep in the bed Rhiannon quietly made her way over to the window. She pulled back the curtains to reveal a day of brilliant sunshine and a spectacular view of Cardiff Castle and the adjacent streets. She felt her spirit rise; since her father’s death the weather, like her mood, had been black, depressing and cold.

  Her thoughts turned to Frank. When they left him at the station he’d looked so forlorn. She missed him. She hoped he was well recovered after his ordeal underground. She felt suddenly homesick. Then she remembered the letterbox in the hotel’s impressive reception area. She could write a letter. Yes ... that was what she would do ... she’d write to Frank.

  Room 62

  Angel Hotel,

  Castle Street,

  Cardiff.

  20 March 1909

  Dear Frank,

  Just to let you know that we arrived safely and in good time for the matinée performance at the Empire Theatre.

  I wish you could have been with us to see the grand entrance, the auditorium, the toffs in all their finery and all the wonderful stage performers. Aunt Florrie brought the house down – the audience wouldn’t let her off the stage. I just loved it.

  After the show we were taken backstage to meet her. She was so pleased to see us that she and her close friend Mr Walter Cahill took us out for tea. He’s an American and I really like him.

  You’ll never believe it but we’re all staying at the Angel Hotel – I’m not fibbing. Mair and me are sharing a room that overlooks Cardiff Castle, very posh, don’t you think?

  I hope you are feeling better.

  I’ve been thinking of you all. Ponty seems so far away. With spring well and truly on its way, if I close my eyes I can imagine Carn mountain covered with daffodils. Unfortunately, this year, I’ll not be there for the annual Whitsun Day parade in early May. I shall miss your mother’s homemade Welsh-cakes. I bet you’re thinking, all the more for you, eh!

  Please write soon. I do miss our little chats or, better still, why don’t you come to see us?

  Give my love to your Mam, Sadie & Martha.

  Love,

  Rhi

  As Rhiannon placed the carefully folded letter into the addressed envelope she hoped her light-hearted approach would work. She wondered whether Frank, knowing her as well as he did, would read between the lines. If he did he’d realize how homesick she truly felt. For all the excitement that Cardiff and the theatre had to offer, she would give anything to turn back the clock to her happy, uncomplicated and secure life, before the colliery accident. She gave a deep sigh... .

  ‘Morning, Rhi.’ Mair yawned, her hands rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  Rhiannon quickly slipped the letter into the pocket of her skirt. This letter was just between her and Frank; she didn’t want it pawed over by Mair.

  ‘I’m starving. What time’s breakfast?’ Mair asked.

  Rhiannon thought, typical Mair, always thinking of her stomach. Mind you, it did seem a long time since tea yesterday. ‘I think we’re expected to wait until we’re called for.’

  Rhiannon walked to the closet in the corner of the room and poured water from the jug into the china bowl. After she’d washed and dressed she encouraged a sleepy Mair to do the same.

  Once dressed Mair suggested they knock on Aunt Florrie’s bedroom door to ask about breakfast.

  ‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Aunt Florrie wouldn’t have arrived back from the theatre until late last night. I’m sure she’d not thank us if we disturbed her this early. I wouldn’t want to be the one to upset her but if you... ?’

  Mair shook her head and pulled a face. ‘No thanks! I know, what if I nip across the hall to Walter’s room? He said we should knock on his door if we needed anything, and I need breakfast!’

  ‘I suppose—’ Rhiannon was interrupted by a timely knock on the door.

  Rhiannon opened the door to a cheery-faced Walter. ‘Good morning, gals. I’ve called to escort you down to breakfast. It’s just us three I’m afraid. Your Aunt Florrie always has her breakfast in her room. But she sends her regards and told me to tell you that she’ll see you later.’

  As the girls entered the breakfast room their eyes focused on the long buffet table groaning with more food than they had ever seen.

  ‘Our regular breakfast table is the one in the window. What say we settle ourselves down?’

  Once they were seated a waiter, dressed in a crisp white shirt with a stiffly starched collar, black bow tie, waistcoat and trousers came to their table.

  ‘Good morning, sir. Will it be the full breakfast for three?’

  ‘No. It’s a bit too early for me. I’ll just have a pot of strong coffee. But these two gals are probably ravenous? Rhi, Mayre, what do you fancy?’ The girls stayed silent, not knowing how to order or what to say. Walter, sensing their growing panic, said, ‘How does bacon, scrambled egg and hot buttered toast sound?’

  They nodded eagerly.

  ‘Then that’s settled.’

  ‘Will that be all, sir?’ the waiter asked.

  ‘I think two glasses of milk would make it just fine.’

  While Walter read the Daily Telegraph they ate heartily – the food tasted delicious.

  Walter waited for them to finish, then lowered his newspaper. ‘Well, that’s the quietest you two have been since I met you. No need to ask if you enjoyed it, eh?’

  The girls smiled.

  ‘Right. It’s time to discuss the plan for this morning. Rhi, your aunt has requested you join her for a chat in her room as soon as you finish breakfast.’

  ‘What about me?’ Mair asked petulantly.

  Walter, ever the diplomat, ignored her tone and just smiled, ‘Well Mayre, I thought that you and I might take a stroll to Victoria Park. What do you say?’

  Mair hesitated.

  Walter pressed further. ‘I’ve been looking for an excuse to visit for days, they’ve had a delivery of new exotic animals ... you really would be doing me a great favour.’

  Mair cursed him for putting her on the spot. If she refused him she would show herself up as a real brat. ‘Yes, all right,’ she mumbled, as she tried not to show how miffed she was at Florrie only asking to see Rhiannon. She wondered if this was the start of things to come?

  Rhiannon gave a light tap on Florrie’s bedroom door.

  ‘Come in, child’ Florrie called.

  Rhiannon entered the light, spacious room and breathed in the heady scent of rose petals.

  Florrie was lazing on top of the huge double bed, dressed in an elegant long cream-silk robe, heavily embroidered around the cuffs and collar and tied in the middle with a wide cummerbund. With her shoulder-length hair hanging loose and only a touch of face powder and lipstick she looked so much younger than the night before – more like the Aunt Florrie Rhiannon remembered.

  ‘Rhiannon, dear, we need to talk.’ Florrie patted the bed, indicating that Rhiannon should sit facing her. When Rhiannon did as she was bid Florrie, looking decidedly uncomfortable, continued, ‘The thing is that since last night I’ve had more time to think about you and Mair coming to stay with me... .’

  ‘We’ll be no trouble, you’ll see,’ Rhiannon said eagerly.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. In a perfect world I would take you in and we’d all live happy ever after. But life is not that simple.’ Florrie looked away.

  ‘Are you saying you don’t want us?’ Rhiannon asked.

  ‘Rhiannon, you have to understand. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was just you; after all, you’re flesh and blood, but Mair? Look, what if we try to find Nellie? I’m sure, as her mother, she could be persuaded to take Mair in.

  ‘No!’

  ‘I beg your pardon.’

  ‘I�
��m sorry, Aunt Florrie. I didn’t mean to shout. But I promised Mair we would stay together. It’s what Dad would have wanted. Mair knows that neither her mother nor the rest of her family want her – I’m all she has. I’ll not be parted from her. If you don’t want us we’ll—’

  Florrie raised the palm of her hand, ‘All right – all right. I don’t know how we’re going to manage it, but I’m willing to give it a try, on the understanding that it can only be short term, until my contract ends. Rhiannon, I do remember you were once good with a needle and thread.’

  ‘I still am.’

  ‘Good, I’ll have a word with Mrs Gordon, the theatre’s wardrobe mistress. I’m sure she would welcome an extra pair of hands. The trouble is, what to do with young Mair. By rights she should be at school. I shall make some enquiries. You do understand, Rhiannon, this can only be a temporary arrangement; after all, my career must come first.’

  Although Rhiannon nodded her agreement, in truth she didn’t understand how her Aunt Florrie could put her career before her family. But she instinctively knew not to voice her true feelings; instead she reach out to give Florrie a hug.

  ‘Thank you, Aunt Florrie, you’ll not regret it.’

  ‘Don’t be so quick to thank me. While you’re with me your lives will revolve around my work, the theatre and theatre folk. You’ll soon discover that they’re a breed of their own.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  It was late afternoon when Frank Lewis, having just finished his eight-hour shift down the pit, wearily followed the colliery railway line along the mountain path to his home a mile away in Ponty. Since that fateful day when the fall in the pit had taken Dai and fifteen other miner’s lives, Frank had hated his job; so much so that at the start of every shift he dreaded the day ahead. A day spent listening for every sudden noise – and there were many, filled him with fear, anticipating another fall.

  Frank would have done anything to change his job and leave the valley. But as the main provider for his family, he knew it was out of the question.