Kingdom's Dream

by Iris Gower

  ‘Find work,’ Katie said more kindly. ‘If you don’t want to go into service see what else is about. Go to the shops in Swansea and get a post as an assistant.’ Suddenly she was exasperated. ‘I don’t know why I’m bothering with you. Do what you like, I don’t care. Perhaps you can’t do anything properly except sleep with men.’

  ‘I could do the work you do any day of the week,’ Rhiannon said angrily, ‘but can’t you see how the other servants would gossip about me, calling me a harlot, blaming everything that goes wrong in the house on me?’

  ‘What if they did?’ Katie challenged. ‘Don’t you think the men you go with will call you even worse names and their wives accuse you of ruining their marriages?’

  ‘I don’t know what to think. I just can’t imagine my life without Bull in it.’

  ‘You’ll have to face up to it, Rhiannon,’ Katie said. ‘You must have known that Bull would leave you one day.’

  ‘He didn’t plan to, not until you came on the scene,’ Rhiannon said bitterly. ‘I’ve worked for that man until my fingers were raw, washing his clothes, cooking his food and warming his bed, and what thanks do I get?’

  The idea of Rhiannon in bed with Bull was so painful that Katie turned and walked away. ‘Just do whatever you like,’ she said, in a parting shot. ‘It’s nothing to do with me, and I couldn’t care less what happens to you.’

  She continued uphill towards the Big House, aware that Rhiannon was behind her. She stopped and turned. Her voice hard with anger as she said, ‘What do you think you’re doing, following me like some stray cat?’

  ‘I’m going to take your advice. I’m going to see if I can get a job like yours.’

  ‘Huh!’ Katie hurried on.

  ‘You could at least wait for me or are you going to warn the other servants that I’m coming and put in a bad word for me?’

  Katie turned round. ‘For goodness’ sake, stop feeling so sorry for yourself. I’ve lost Bull too. Do you think I’d have him now after what he’s done? You say I’ve ruined your life, well, you’ve ruined mine too.’

  Rhiannon caught her up, panting a little from the exertion. ‘I know, I’m sorry.’ She sounded almost humble. ‘But Bull was mine, see, my man, and I loved him with all my heart. You hardly knew him. All you saw was the Bull who could charm the birds off the trees. You never saw the real man.’

  There was probably a great deal of truth in what Rhiannon said but Katie was not going to admit it.

  ‘And you never saw us together,’ she said. ‘We went out to supper with friends, he would meet me from choir practice, we were a respectable couple. You’re the one he had to hide away in a rough shanty-town.’

  ‘Oh, I know I’m not respectable, you don’t have to rub it in. I’m just a trollop. But if you help me I can do better, I can try to be a good servant like you said.’

  ‘It’s asking a lot of me,’ Katie put her basket on the ground and, her hands on her hips, faced Rhiannon, ‘and you’ve got the cheek of the devil, I’ll give you that.’ She was silent. ‘I’ll do my best for you, though I don’t know why I’m bothering.’ She pointed to the house on the rise above them. ‘See, we’re almost home now.’

  ‘Home,’ Rhiannon said wonderingly. ‘I don’t think I’ve had a proper home since I was a child.’

  Suddenly Katie felt sorry for her. ‘Well, as it happens, Cook’s looking for a new kitchenmaid. I could put in a word for you.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have to help me if you’d left Bull alone.’

  As Katie led the way into the cosy kitchen Cook looked up. ‘Oh, there you are, Katie. And who’s this you’ve brought with you?’

  ‘Rhiannon wants to work for Mr Morton-Edwards. Do you think he’ll see her?’

  Cook continued to roll out the pastry but her eyes narrowed as she studied Rhiannon. ‘I know you, girl. I’ve seen you down the market. You’re one of them shanty-town girls, aren’t you?’

  ‘Come on, now, Cook, give her a chance,’ Katie said gently.

  Cook shook flour off her hands. ‘If the master takes her on there’s nothing I can do about it, but I’ll not make friends with a loose woman – so you just keep out of my way.’

  ‘Look,’ Rhiannon said, ‘this is my chance to make a better life for myself. Even the Good Book says to forgive, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Aye, I suppose it does. But don’t you bring your loose ways up here.’ Cook looked at Katie. ‘I’ll see what the master says about all this.’

  Katie sighed with relief and pushed the kettle onto the hob. As she waited for it to boil, she watched Cook slip the round of dough over a plate and neatly cut away the overhanging edges.

  ‘What’s your name, girl?’ Cook looked up briefly from her work.

  ‘Rhiannon . . . Rhiannon Beynon,’ she said. ‘At least, that’s what the other women called me.’ She smiled for the first time since she had entered the kitchen. ‘Along with other names not suitable to repeat in decent company.’

  A glimmer of a smile crossed Cook’s lips. ‘Right, then, Rhiannon, hand me some lemon curd while I beat some egg whites for the meringue.’

  Once the pie was safely in the oven Cook sat down opposite Rhiannon. ‘You was with Bull Beynon, then?’ she asked, stirring a generous amount of sugar into her tea. She looked at Katie. ‘And what do you make of all this, her wanting a job here an’ all?’

  Rhiannon spoke up quickly. ‘You’ve said you’ll help me, haven’t you, Katie?’

  Katie hoped vainly that Cook would change the subject.

  ‘Our Katie don’t seem too sure of that. What happened with Bull, then? Didn’t he want you to live with him in his new place?’ Cook smiled wickedly and answered her own question. ‘But, then, it wouldn’t pay him to have a trollop in tow, not now he’s got a better job and a respectable house to live in.’

  ‘I know I’m a trollop, Cook,’ Rhiannon said firmly. ‘I don’t need my nose rubbed in it.’

  ‘Oh, nothing personal, mind,’ Cook said. She got to her feet. ‘I’ll go to see the master now. I’ve got to ask him how many will be here for supper anyway.’

  Rhiannon fell silent and Katie looked anywhere but in her direction. How would she feel having Bull’s woman working with her, day in day out? It wouldn’t be easy.

  A few minutes later Mrs Grinter returned. ‘Mr Morton-Edwards says he’ll leave it to me to decide whether we keep you or not,’ she said, ‘so let’s get to work, Rhiannon, and see how you shape up. You can help with the washing up for now. Later we need potatoes peeled and floors will want scrubbing. There’s enough to do in this kitchen, goodness knows, and we need another pair of hands. You look like a big strong girl, so let’s see how we get on.’

  Katie glanced at Rhiannon, who looked daunted. ‘You’ll get used to it, don’t worry.’ In spite of all that had passed between them, she hoped Rhiannon would make a go of the job. Anything must be better than the life she’d led before.

  Katie was polishing the curving banisters when the drawing-room door opened and Mr Morton-Edwards came into the hall. ‘Ah, Katie, get Father Martin’s coat, will you, please? Has Cook reached a decision about the new girl?’

  Katie looked at her feet. She was still shy in the presence of her master. ‘Yes, sir. Cook’s given her work to do in the kitchen.’ She glanced up briefly. ‘I think Rhiannon will fit in, sir.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He turned to Father Martin and shook his hand. ‘Goodbye, old friend. If you’re sure you can’t stay to eat with me, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Katie handed the vicar his coat and opened the front door for him. On the step he stopped and looked down at her. ‘I know all about Rhiannon,’ he said. ‘I minister to all the railwayfolk, including the women.’ He frowned. ‘I know she was living with Bull Beynon, and as you were walking out with him that puts you in a difficult position. It shows a great spirit of Christian charity that you are willing to work with her. You are, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Katie said.

  �
��You don’t really mean that, do you, Katie?’ The look of sympathy on his face almost made Katie cry. ‘Look, my dear, Bull wanted to make you his wife. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? You’re a respectable young woman and you must find it difficult to understand the loose-living ways of the navvies, but we mustn’t judge lest we be judged.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Katie wished he would leave her alone: he was only driving the hurt deeper.

  ‘I can see you’re not happy about all this, Katie,’ Father Martin said, ‘but Bull only took in Rhiannon because she was being badly used by the other men. He gave her a home when no one else would have her but that doesn’t mean he loved her.’

  ‘He should have been honest with me from the start then, Father,’ Katie said. ‘It’s the deceit I can’t abide.’

  ‘That’s a little unrealistic, Katie, surely?’ Father Martin seemed determined to talk the matter through. ‘Bull took that way of life for granted and he could hardly ask you to understand that he was living with another woman, could he?’

  ‘Why not? He should have tried. Anyway, sir, it’s over between me and Bull.’

  ‘Are you sure, Katie? Will you throw away a chance of love for the sake of your pride?’ When Katie didn’t answer he went on, ‘Most men will have enjoyed a dalliance with one lady or another before they settle down. That’s how things are in the world, my dear. Why not give him another chance? I’m sure he deserves it.’

  Mr Morton-Edwards came to her rescue. ‘Go about your business, Martin,’ he said smiling. ‘You’re gossiping like an old woman there.’

  Katie had only just closed the door behind Father Martin when the bell rang loudly in the quiet of the hall. Mr Morton-Edwards glanced towards her. ‘Please, Katie, answer that for me, and tell my visitor I’ll see him in the library, would you?’

  Katie opened the door as he disappeared from sight. The evening light made her blink and it was a moment before she realized Bull was standing on the step. ‘Oh, it’s you.’ She swallowed. ‘The master says you’re to go through to the library.’ She pointed. ‘It’s the fourth door across the hall.’ Although she tried not to look at him her eyes were drawn to him. He was unfamiliar in his new clothes, with his hair neatly trimmed and a hat in his hand. ‘Katie,’ he said softly, ‘I love you. Please give me another chance.’

  ‘I have work to do.’

  He caught her arm. ‘Please, Katie, won’t you give me a chance to explain things to you?’

  His nearness was driving her mad and she wanted to hit him for the pain he’d caused her. ‘We’ve been through all this,’ she said quietly. ‘You were living with Rhiannon, she was like a wife to you, and you kept that from me.’

  ‘Because I knew you would be shocked and hurt. I wanted you to get to know me and thought then you might understand my reasons for taking her in.’

  ‘But you and she were . . . Well, she wasn’t just a housekeeper to you, was she?’

  ‘No, she wasn’t – but I’m an ordinary man, Katie, I need a little love and comfort after a day on the line, working my body almost to breaking point. I’m no plaster saint and I can’t apologize for what I did before I met you.’

  He had a point. ‘Bull, just give me a little time, and then perhaps we can try again.’

  Bull’s face lit up. ‘Do you mean that, Katie?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I do.’

  The door from below stairs opened and Rhiannon rushed out. ‘Oh, Bull, I knew it was your voice I heard. Have you come to fetch me? Is that why you’re here?’ She clung to him tightly.

  Bull looked from Rhiannon to Katie, his colour rising. ‘What are you doing here, Rhiannon?’

  ‘Katie helped me get a job in service – so you see I’ve changed now, Bull, I’m respectable.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Rhiannon.’ Bull disengaged himself from her embrace. ‘I meant what I said. You have no place in my life now, I’m sorry.’

  Rhiannon fell back, then turned on Katie. ‘See what you’ve done? You’ve set him against me. I’ll never forgive you for this, Katie Cullen.’ She retreated towards the kitchen.

  Before Katie could speak she heard the master call, ‘Katie, if that is my visitor send him in at once.’

  ‘I’ll speak to you later, Katie,’ Bull said, as he went towards the library. ‘We can talk properly then.’

  As the door closed behind the two men Katie sat on the stairs, still clutching the duster, and asked herself why life was so complicated. Her heart was telling her to listen to Bull, to forgive him, but her head was telling her she could not trust him.

  She wanted to cry but instead she rubbed her cloth into the tin of beeswax and began, very carefully, to polish the banister.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Llinos looked at the letter again. At last Joe was coming home to her. Lloyd was staying with ‘his people’: he had chosen a bride from the tribe of Mandan Indians and he was remaining with her on the plains of America. Llinos sank into a chair. Now that the damage was done and their son had been coerced into living like a savage, Joe was coming back to her.

  ‘You fool, Joe!’ Llinos said to herself. She’d had plans for Lloyd, plans that had involved him marrying well, living a gentleman’s life in Swansea, giving her grandchildren. ‘Joe, how could you do this to me?’

  Eventually, she folded the letter and put it into a drawer. It was pointless to write a reply because Joe would be half-way across the Atlantic by the time it arrived in America. As for Lloyd, he no longer seemed to care about her: there was not even a personal note from him in Joe’s letter. It seemed that her elder son had shaken the dust of Swansea from his feet for good.

  Llinos smoothed down her hair. She was meeting Eynon in town and she didn’t want him to see that she was upset. Eynon, her dear friend, he was always honest with her, would never betray her. Llinos sighed. She guessed that her meeting with him this afternoon had something to do with Jayne: Eynon always consulted her when he was uneasy about his daughter.

  It was a fine warm day and as her carriage drew up outside the Mackworth Hotel tea-rooms Llinos told herself she would enjoy her afternoon with Eynon. She would forget her woes and laugh with him as she used to.

  He was there before her, waiting in the plush lounge with a glass of brandy at his side and a cigar in his hand. He rose to greet her with a smile of pleasure. ‘Llinos, how good to see you.’ He took her gloved hands and kissed her wrists. ‘As beautiful as ever.’

  His hair was perhaps a paler shade of gold now, touched with white, and his face bore the marks of time, but his eyes were as bright as they always had been.

  ‘Will you have wine, Llinos, or tea perhaps?’

  ‘Tea, please. Let’s take it in the conservatory – this sunshine is too good to miss.’

  The waiter led the way, carrying Eynon’s glass on a silver tray as if it were a priceless treasure. The respect he was accorded by the people of Swansea meant that Eynon was treated with great courtesy wherever he went.

  The sun-splashed conservatory was a pleasure to behold, with plants and inviting soft sofas. Llinos felt almost content. Here with Eynon there was no need for polite conversation: they were at ease with each other, a mark of their lasting friendship.

  ‘Any news of Joe?’ Eynon had seated himself opposite her, and as their eyes met, Llinos’s resolve not to talk about her problems evaporated.

  ‘Funny you should ask,’ she said dryly. ‘I had a letter this morning.’

  ‘Not good news, then.’

  ‘It seems that my son has found an American Indian wife and intends to settle there with her.’

  Eynon took her hand. ‘I can see you’re upset, Llinos, but Lloyd is a man and must make his own way in the world.’

  Llinos smiled briefly. ‘You sound like Joe.’

  ‘Perhaps I’ve learned to be more philosophical about things now that I’m an old man.’

  ‘Stuff and nonsense, you’ll never be an old man! If I admit you’re old I’ll have to be old myself and I can’t allow
that, can I?’

  The waiter brought the tray of tea and set it on the table: the fine bone china was almost translucent in the sunlight. ‘Why can’t life always be so pleasant, Eynon?’

  ‘Because the people around us complicate it,’ Eynon replied. ‘You and I should abandon our families and run away together, live on some sunny island off the Spanish coast.’

  ‘That sounds wonderful.’

  ‘But it’s an impossible dream, isn’t it, Llinos? You have your family and I have mine, and they go on needing us. At least Sion is too young to be a trouble yet.’

  ‘He’s a joy.’ She drank some tea, and looked at Eynon over the rim of her cup. ‘But you want to talk to me about Jayne, don’t you?’

  ‘You’re a witch, girl! How do you always know what I’m thinking?’

  ‘Feminine intuition.’

  ‘Well, I am worried about Jayne, it’s true, but that’s not the only reason I want to see you, Llinos. I just love being with you.’

  Llinos hid a sigh. ‘What’s wrong with Jayne?’

  ‘The poor child is unhappy, and I don’t know what to do about it.’

  ‘Has she talked to you?’ Llinos was determined not to give anything away. If Jayne chose to discuss her marriage with her father that was her business, but Eynon would hear nothing about it from Llinos’s lips.

  ‘No, but she and Buchan hardly speak to each other. The atmosphere between them is so strained it’s almost impossible to have a decent conversation with them.’

  ‘Have you any idea why?’ Llinos tried to hide her discomfort.

  ‘I think something is seriously wrong but I don’t know what it is. Do you, Llinos?’

  ‘Would Jayne tell me about her marital problems?’ She was not being honest with him but it was not her place to tell him the truth about his son-in-law.

  ‘Jayne has bought a substantial amount of railway shares and Dafydd is angry about it,’ Eynon said. ‘I think that’s what started the downward slide.’