Beggars and Choosers

by Catrin Collier

  ‘The household expenses, staff wages, the cost of Harry’s education, and your and Harry’s personal accounts at Gwilym James will be met from another account, which is also controlled by the trustees. My only concern, which I voiced to Mrs James, is that the board might tend to be a little conservative in the investments they choose to make on your son’s behalf and in effecting policy changes in the store. But when I consider what Morgan Davies did with your father’s estate, that might be no bad thing.’

  ‘No, it might not.’ She wrapped her arms around Harry and held him very close.

  ‘Your son will be a very wealthy young man, Mrs Bull.’

  ‘You will be one of the two trustees appointed from your firm, Mr Richards?’ she asked.

  ‘No, Mrs Bull, I will not. In view of my dereliction of duty towards your brother, that would not be appropriate.’

  ‘Please, reconsider,’ she begged. ‘My father and Aunt Edyth trusted you implicitly.’

  ‘A trust that proved entirely misplaced.’

  ‘Uncle Morgan let us down, Mr Richards, not you. Everyone in Pontypridd respects you as a man of integrity and no one knows our family affairs better than yourself. Besides, no one else could have possibly explained the complicated terms of Aunt Edyth’s will to me as simply as you just did.’

  ‘I have already resigned from the firm, Mrs Bull.’

  ‘That is a great pity. Please, if you won’t sit on the board as a trustee, will you consider a position as my adviser, for Harry’s sake?’

  He looked at her for a moment. ‘If I do, I will only be able to counsel you. I will not even be able to vote.’

  ‘I realise that.’

  ‘And I will not accept any remuneration for my services, not even expenses.’

  ‘If that is what you wish.’

  ‘Then for whatever it is worth, my advice is at your disposal.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘So,’ he looked around the room, ‘how do you think you and Harry will like living in Ynysangharad House?’

  She recalled Harry’s repeated requests to go home. ‘To be honest, Mr Richards, I am not sure, but I believe that my mother, brothers and Llinos will be relieved. It will solve their most immediate problem.’

  ‘But not all of them.’ Mr Richards left his chair. ‘If only I could turn the clock back.’

  ‘And do what, Mr Richards? Challenge my uncle to a duel? Accuse him of trying to defraud Geraint before you had any evidence that he was plotting to do so?’

  ‘I should have done something.’

  ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. You are an honourable man accustomed to dealing with honourable men and Uncle Morgan has proved himself to be anything but.’

  ‘You are so forgiving, Mrs Bull. If I may say so, very like your father and your aunt.’

  ‘That is the greatest compliment anyone has ever paid me, Mr Richards,’ Sali said simply. ‘Please, would you do me a favour and explain the terms of Aunt Edyth’s will to my brothers and sister. And would you tell them that they are welcome to live in this house until Harry reaches the age of thirty. After that, any invitation will have to be extended by him.’

  ‘I thought we’d be having something hot after eating cold food all day,’ Geraint grumbled as he surveyed the cold collation of smoked fish, meat, bread, cheeses, butters, chutneys and salads the parlour maids had laid out for the family’s supper in the dining room.

  ‘The servants have been busy all day, Geraint,’ Sali reminded. ‘I suggested a cold supper as a way of using up the leftovers and giving the cook a rest after catering for the mourners.’

  ‘I suppose it’s your decision to make,’ he muttered mutinously, pouring himself a glass of whisky from the decanter on the sideboard.

  ‘And what is that supposed to mean?’ Sali enquired frostily.

  ‘That you waltz back after four years away, appoint yourself head of the family, have cosy little chats with Mr Richards and make decisions that affect all of us without consultation or as much as a by your leave.’

  ‘I haven’t made any decisions.’

  ‘Oh no?’ Gareth challenged. ‘What about you ordering Llinos and me to reject Mr Richards’s offer to pay for our education.’

  ‘I didn’t order you. I merely said that I didn’t think Mr Richards could afford to pay your school and university fees.’

  ‘Whether he can or can’t, in my opinion, we should take him up on his offer. After all, he is the one who allowed Uncle Morgan to steal our money, so it’s only fair that he should be the one to pay for his mistake.’

  ‘You make it sound as though Mr Richards condoned what Uncle Morgan did, Gareth. He didn’t allow Uncle Morgan to do anything of the kind. Besides, you have lost very little compared to Geraint, and the rents from your properties will be more than sufficient to pay your school and university fees and give you a reasonable living allowance,’ Sali said calmly.

  ‘And me?’ Llinos demanded plaintively. ‘I was to go on to a finishing school in Switzerland to learn French and German.’

  ‘Perhaps you will still be able to. I could ask the trustees for a loan for you.’

  ‘A loan!’ Llinos exclaimed.

  ‘Yes, a loan,’ Sali repeated irritably. ‘If I had the money to replace your dowry I would, but the trustees are not handling my money, they are handling my son’s, and I am not in a position to give it away.’

  ‘And how exactly do you expect me to pay it back?’ Llinos helped herself to a portion of smoked salmon.

  ‘When you start work after you have finished your education.’

  ‘Work at what?’

  ‘You must have plans ...’ Sali began.

  ‘I had my dowry and Geraint his inheritance. Pass the lemons, Gareth.’

  ‘You were expecting to get married?’

  ‘I haven’t accepted anyone, as yet.’ Llinos squeezed lemon juice over her salmon.

  ‘I should hope not.’ Sali buttered the bread on her plate. ‘You are only fifteen.’

  ‘The police could find Uncle Morgan tomorrow.’ Llinos cut viciously into her salmon.

  ‘Even if they do, it’s unlikely that he will have a penny of Geraint’s or the trust fund’s money,’ Sali pointed out realistically. ‘Mr Richards and the bank manager agree that he invested everything in a bogus company.’

  ‘So what are you suggesting? That I find work as a domestic?’ Llinos questioned acidly. ‘And there’s no need to look at Geraint like that. He told us what you’ve been doing since you left your husband.’

  ‘I am more ashamed of allowing Uncle Morgan to marry me off to a man like Owen Bull than I am of working as a housekeeper to Lloyd Evans’s family. But shouting at me isn’t going to change your situation, Llinos. Things being what they are, all of you have some hard thinking to do about your futures.’

  ‘What future?’ Geraint enquired miserably, sipping his whisky.

  ‘You may have lost your money, Geraint, but you have a home.’

  ‘Your son’s home,’ Geraint corrected viciously.

  ‘Yours until he is thirty,’ Sali reminded. ‘Llinos, have you considered training as a teacher?’

  ‘A teacher! Don’t be ridiculous. No girl at my school would dream of doing such a thing.’

  ‘I did,’ Sali countered. ‘And one of my greatest regrets is that I didn’t finish my training.’

  ‘That was you.’

  ‘Father encouraged us to be independent. I can’t understand how all of you have changed so much in four years. Frankly, if that’s what going to boarding schools have done to you, then I never want Harry to attend one.’

  ‘You’d prefer him to go to a council school?’ Geraint sneered.

  ‘He may grow up realising that he has to work for a living if he does.’

  ‘I have my rents –’

  ‘Yes, you do, Gareth, but surely you have some ambition beyond collecting them?’

  ‘I was going to use the three thousand pounds to buy land and build a house.’
/>
  ‘You were going to farm?’ Sali asked hopefully.

  ‘I was going to employ a farm manager.’

  Bewildered by their attitudes, Sali looked from Gareth to Geraint. ‘When Father was alive, you both had ambitions. You wanted to be an engineer, Geraint, and you’ve just graduated from university. You must have considered a career when you were there.’

  ‘I studied English Literature.’

  ‘Why did you change your mind about engineering?’

  ‘Because Uncle Morgan sold the colliery,’ he informed her sourly.

  ‘You must have had something in mind when you decided to study Literature,’ she pleaded.

  ‘I intended to return to Danygraig House and look after Father’s business interests.’

  ‘What interests? The first company Uncle Morgan sold was the colliery company and Father didn’t have anything to do with the day-to-day running of any of his other investments. Can’t you see that if all of you adopt the attitude that the world owes you a living, Uncle Morgan will have won?’

  ‘In what way?’ Geraint replenished his whisky glass.

  ‘He will have destroyed Father’s children, as well as his life’s work and legacy.’

  ‘So, what are you suggesting, Sali? That you’ve changed your mind about allowing us to move in here and live off our nephew’s charity?’

  Sali took a deep breath as she looked down the table. She hadn’t known how Geraint would take the news that their aunt had left her entire estate to Harry, but she hadn’t been prepared for his rage and bitterness, or Gareth and Llinos’s resentment.

  ‘As you are family, it will not be charity. Mother, you and, when they finish their education, Gareth and Llinos, will be welcome to live here rent and household expenses free until Harry is thirty. I am only sorry that I have no money to give any of you.’ She braced herself for another outburst, ‘So I am afraid that you will have to work to support yourselves.’

  ‘And no doubt you’d like me become a skivvy like you!’ Llinos left the table.

  ‘Llinos –’

  ‘You’re disgusting. A disgrace to our family. I only wish Father were alive so he could see how low you have sunk.’ Llinos left the table and flounced off. A few minutes later, Gareth followed leaving Sali alone with Geraint.

  ‘I could suggest to the Board of Trustees that you be given a position in Gwilym James or the Market Company,’ Sali ventured, after a few minutes of strained silence.

  ‘As Mr Horton’s son’s lackey?’

  ‘You will have to be trained before you can take a senior position, but as family, once you are familiar with the business, I am sure the trustees will offer you a similar post to the one Mansel filled.’

  ‘So I can spend my life working to increase my bastard nephew’s wealth.’

  She inhaled sharply. ‘Thank you so much for letting me know how you regard my son.’

  ‘Deny that Harry is Mansel James’s bastard and you deny his right to Aunt Edyth’s inheritance.’ He refilled his whisky glass with an unsteady hand.

  ‘Not quite. Mansel was her nephew, but I was her great-niece.’

  ‘And you were both her darling favourites.’ He emptied his glass with a practised flick of the wrist.

  ‘I am sorry, Geraint,’ she apologised brusquely, ‘but I cannot do any more for you. As I am sure Mr Richards explained, under the terms of the will, my hands are tied.’

  ‘But you are sitting pretty. Use of Aunt Edyth’s jewellery, living expense-free in this house, with all household bills paid and accounts for you and Harry in the store.’

  ‘But no actual money,’ she reminded him acidly. ‘Will you at least consider my offer?’

  ‘Oh, we’ll live here with you to give you and your bastard respectability,’ he mocked. ‘Between them, Mr Richards and Uncle Morgan have seen to it that we have no choice.’

  ‘Mr Richards –’

  ‘Should have seen what was going on.’

  ‘You probably saw more of Uncle Morgan when you returned in the holidays than Mr Richards did. Did you realise what he was up to?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘No.’ He pushed his plate aside, pulled a pack of cigars from his pocket and lit one.

  ‘The police may still find the directors of the Conversion of Savages and Pagans Missionary Fund.’

  ‘And they may not,’ he retorted, refusing to be consoled.

  ‘I am sorry, Geraint. If I had any money I would give it to you, but I don’t.’

  ‘When did you get to be so bloody saintly?’ He helped himself to another whisky and she fought the impulse to tell him that he had drunk enough.

  ‘I am not, Geraint. But the last few years have taught me to accept things that cannot be changed.’

  ‘We could challenge Aunt Edyth’s will. Owen is in prison and likely to be hanged, so there’s no risk of him taking any inheritance from you.’

  ‘We?’ she questioned.

  ‘Aunt Edyth died before we found out that Uncle Morgan had stolen all my money ...’

  ‘Do what you want, Geraint,’ she said wearily. ‘It’s been a long and dreadful day. I’m going to bed.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Sali.’ He downed his whisky and confronted her. ‘Have you lost all your pride? We are Watkin Joneses, for Christ’s sake. People look up to us. We have a position to uphold in the town and for that we need money.’

  ‘Then we should work for it.’

  ‘Skivvying for others as you have done?’

  ‘It is honest work.’

  ‘And you can’t wait to get back to it, can you?’ he taunted. ‘Or is it Lloyd Evans you can’t wait to get back to. Dear God, Uncle Morgan was right,’ he breathed whisky fumes into her face, ‘you are a whore. And a whore to a nobody. A bloody collier –’

  ‘If you force me to choose between living here with you, the way you are behaving right now, and housekeeping for the Evanses I know which I’d prefer,’ she shouted, finally losing her temper.

  ‘Then go back to their bloody hovel.’

  ‘I may do just that. But never forget, Geraint. This is my son’s house, not yours.’ Pushing past him, she left the room.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Sali woke the next morning with a horrible feeling of dread. It wasn’t the sick, relentless despair she had woken to every morning in Mill Street, but it was a fear of yet more confrontation with her brothers and sister, the people she should be closest to.

  She washed and dressed herself and Harry, and breakfasted with him alone in the dining room. Afterwards, she asked Mari if she would join her in the library so she could pose the question uppermost in her mind.

  ‘Would you mind very much if I asked you to look after Mother again?’ Sali studied Mari’s face and tried to gauge her feelings.

  ‘I would much rather look after Master Harry.’ Mari wrinkled her nose. ‘Mrs Watkin Jones has made it clear that she is not happy having to live here and either I’ve forgotten how difficult she is, or she’s become much more demanding since I left Danygraig House.’

  ‘I think Mother has become worse since you left. I spoke to the doctor last week. He has suspected for some time that Uncle Morgan has been giving her far more laudanum than he prescribed. He warned me that it is not going to be easy to reduce her dose, but as her health is badly affected, she needs to cut down drastically and immediately. But with care and patient nursing he is hopeful that it can be done.’

  ‘My care and patient nursing?’ Mari enquired dryly.

  ‘You always were good at handling her.’

  ‘And you were always good at dishing out compliments and getting people to do what you wanted them to.’

  ‘If I was, that was a long time ago.’ Sali handed Harry a pencil and a piece of paper, as he sat on a chair beside her.

  ‘What about Master Harry?’ Mari questioned. ‘He will need a nursemaid.’

  ‘Not immediately.’

  ‘You can’t possibly look after him with a house this size to run,’ Mari prote
sted.

  ‘In my experience of growing up in Danygraig House, it is the housekeeper and staff who run a house this size, not the supposed mistress.’ Sali glanced down the list of staff Mr Jenkins had compiled for her that morning. ‘Aunt Edyth lived simply for the last few years of her life, but there appear to be more than enough servants to do everything that needs to be done, even with Geraint and Mother living here full time and Gareth and Llinos returning for the holidays.’

  ‘I agree,’ Mari said shortly, ‘but someone in your position should have a lady’s maid.’

  ‘What position?’ Sali scoffed.

  ‘Mother of the heir to Ynysangharad House and Gwilym James.’

  ‘“Mother of” isn’t any position at all,’ Sali countered emphatically. ‘And to get back to my question, will you look after Mother, please, Mari?’

  ‘For you, not for her.’

  ‘You are an angel. Now I can go and see Mr Jenkins and the housekeeper, tell them about your new position, reassure them that no one will lose their job and they can continue to run the house just as they did for Aunt Edyth.’

  ‘You look tired, Miss Sali,’ Mari observed, as Sali left her chair. ‘You should rest.’

  ‘That is the sort of thing you used to say to me when I was twelve years old and Mother first took to her bed.’

  ‘And you never paid the slightest attention to me then.’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’ Sali took Harry’s hand. ‘I have no idea why I should feel tired. For the past four years I have cooked, cleaned, scrubbed, washed and ironed for sixteen hours a day, and sometimes more, and I didn’t feel as exhausted as I do now.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s because you haven’t given yourself any time to mourn Mrs James – or Mr Mansel,’ Mari added quietly.

  ‘I did all my mourning for Mansel four years ago, and every day I was married to Owen Bull. But now, I have Mr Jenkins and the housekeeper to see, letters to write and a list to make of all the things I want discussed at the first Trustees Meeting.’

  ‘And you still think that are going to have time to look after Master Harry yourself, without the help of a nursemaid?’

  ‘For the moment.’ Sali smiled down at her son. ‘Master Harry always comes first.’

  ‘Do me a favour, Miss Sali?’