by Iris Gower
‘Why should Dafydd worry about the shares?’ Llinos said. ‘After all, they both have more money than they will ever need.’
Eynon smiled wryly. ‘It’s not about the money, though, is it, Llinos? It’s about power, about Jayne doing what Buchan could not in buying into the Great Western Railway.’ He smiled proudly. ‘She was one step ahead of him there.’
‘Jayne is an astute young lady.’ Llinos poured more tea and tried to be calm. If Eynon knew what had really gone wrong in his daughter’s marriage he would take a horse-whip to Dafydd as sure as night followed day. ‘Dafydd is a man and Jayne will always outwit him.’
‘You’re very sure of female superiority. And they say man has the better mind.’
Llinos smiled. ‘Ah, but it was a man who said that.’
Eynon lifted his hands in defeat. ‘I give in. I can’t win an argument with you or with my daughter.’
‘And that proves my point. But if you want my advice, just keep away from Jayne’s marriage.’
‘Can I do that, though, Llinos?’
‘You have to, or you’ll be in the wrong whatever you do or say. Just lend a sympathetic ear and say as little as possible. Haven’t you learned yet that a parent’s place is to be in the wrong? Jayne will sort out her own problems – she’s a capable young woman.’
‘I suppose you’re right. Now, let’s forget Jayne and talk about other things,’ he made a wry face, ‘because whenever I think of Buchan I have the strongest urge to kill him.’
Llinos had not realized Eynon’s feelings went so deep. She steered the conversation into safer channels and they talked about their childhood, and Llinos’s latest dragon patterns.
‘This is pleasant, Eynon,’ Llinos said. ‘Remembering the past is so peaceful.’
‘We’re good for each other, Llinos,’ Eynon said. ‘You and I are like a pair of gloves – meant to be together.’
‘Go on with you!’ Llinos said. ‘You’re a sentimental old fool.’
‘I thought you told me I wasn’t old.’ When Eynon laughed his whole face lit up and Llinos saw, as she often had, what an attractive man he was. It was a pity she had not fallen in love with him. How uncomplicated her life might have been if she had.
Eynon touched her hand. ‘You’re still a beautiful woman, Llinos – fine eyes, hardly a touch of grey in your hair and a figure most young girls would envy.’
‘Flatterer! But I confess I was thinking much the same of you. I think you grow more handsome as the years go on.’
‘You see? A matched pair as I said.’
The door to the conservatory swung open and Llinos saw Dafydd Buchan walking towards her. By the look on his face he was not happy. He came across the room with measured steps and Llinos knew that something was very wrong.
Without asking, he sat down and faced Eynon. ‘I’ve spent all morning looking for you,’ he said abruptly. ‘You have to talk sense into your daughter. She’s a stubborn, foolish woman.’
Eynon bristled. ‘How dare you come in here and interrupt us without so much as a by-your-leave?’
Dafydd ignored him. ‘Many a husband would take a stick to her for the way she’s behaving,’ he grated.
‘I would not advise you to do anything of the sort.’ Eynon’s voice was filled with loathing. ‘If you lay a hand on my daughter I will thrash you myself.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Dafydd persisted, still not looking at Llinos. ‘She refuses to do her marital duty by me.’
As his words sank in Eynon smiled. ‘Is that all? I thought she had at least taken a lover or two. Good heavens, man, haven’t you learned the art of seduction yet?’
Llinos tried to defuse the situation. ‘Dafydd, please lower your voice,’ she said, ‘or do you want the whole of Swansea discussing your grievances?’
He looked at her then, his eyes cold. ‘This has nothing to do with you. It must be sorted out man to man.’
Llinos was appalled. She had never thought Dafydd considered women inferior to men but now he was telling her to keep her place. She picked up her bag and gloves. ‘Perhaps I should leave you two gentlemen to get on with it, then.’
‘No!’ Eynon said. ‘Please, Llinos, stay. I won’t have this – this blackguard drive you away. I’ll take you home when I’m ready.’
He turned to look at Dafydd. ‘So my daughter does not wish to share your bed.’
‘That is so. How am I to get children if my wife will not obey me? Tell me that.’
‘I’m afraid I’ve no advice to offer on that score.’ Eynon grinned. ‘I was never in such a position.’
‘I’m not lacking in manhood, as Llinos will confirm.’ He did not look at her but Llinos was outraged. Humiliated and angry, she wished she was anywhere but in the sunny conservatory of the Mackworth Hotel being insulted.
‘I must go.’ She got up, almost tripping in her haste.
Just then Jayne came into the conservatory, serene, in control of herself. As always, she looked elegant, hair shining and curled, her clothes freshly pressed. She crossed the floor and stood beside her husband.
‘So, Father, are you going to tell me to do my duty and be a good wife?’ She sounded amused rather than angry. ‘If so, you will be wasting your breath.’
‘Sit down, Jayne, and you too, Llinos. People are staring,’ Eynon said. ‘Come, let’s talk this over like civilized people.’ He was still angry, but for the sake of appearances he was doing his best.
Reluctantly Llinos took her seat again. She knew Jayne’s iron will, and the girl looked very sure of herself.
‘Jayne,’ Eynon said, ‘I’m not going to lecture you. You are grown-up, a married woman, and you must sort out your own affairs in private.’
‘Huh!’ Jayne’s eyes were on her father. ‘It’s not me having the “affairs” but my precious husband.’
Llinos took a deep breath. The worst was going to happen: Jayne was about to tell her father everything.
‘Jayne, shall we talk privately?’ she asked gently, but Jayne was in no mood to listen.
‘I’ve had enough of secrecy,’ she said, ‘enough of covering up for my loving husband.’
‘Covering up?’ Eynon frowned, ‘What do you mean, Jayne? What’s happened?’
Jayne smiled thinly. ‘My dear husband has been unfaithful to me, Father. He’s bedded with Shanni Morgan, a common little slut if ever I saw one.’
The conservatory was filled with people but silence had fallen on the room as everyone stared at Jayne Buchan.
‘Jayne, don’t do this to your father,’ Llinos said quickly. ‘Let’s go home and talk this over, like sensible adults.’
‘I’m not going home with him ever again.’ She stared at her husband. ‘If he wants harlots he can have them, but he’s not coming to me afterwards. I won’t have it.’
‘Jayne!’ Dafydd’s voice was hard. ‘Keep your voice down. You sound like a fishwife.’
‘I thought fishwives were your preference, these days.’ Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. ‘And, to be honest, I’d rather be without your favours – they were never up to much anyway.’ She smiled at Llinos. ‘A quick fumble and it was over. I’m surprised you bothered with him after a man like Joe.’
‘Enough of this!’ Llinos’s voice rang out in the silence. ‘I won’t be involved in such a disgraceful scene. How dare you bring my name into this disgusting tirade?’ Her colour high, she swept out of the room and made her way through the lounge to the glass doors and into the street, her cheeks burning. Her reputation was low enough already in the town but now it must have sunk even further.
She lifted her head to allow the breeze to play on her face. One thing was certain: she wanted nothing more to do with Jayne or with Dafydd. Yet as she walked along the street, for the first time in her life Llinos felt old and ugly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Shanni stared in horror at her husband. Pedr was red-faced as he stood in the kitchen, his hands clenched. He had left home in a good mood to drink at
the Castle with the navvies, and had come home in a furious temper.
‘Tell me, then, my dear wife,’ his voice was harsh, ‘if you let Dafydd Buchan under your skirts how many others have been there?’
Shanni swallowed hard. ‘Where on earth did you get that idea from, Pedr?’
‘Don’t bother to lie to me, Shanni.’ He sat down and put his head in his hands. ‘There was a row down at the Mackworth Hotel and your name came into it. You were even having his child! How could you, Shanni? How could you do that to me?’
Shanni wished the ground would open and swallow her. ‘I’m so sorry, Pedr,’ she said desperately. ‘I didn’t mean it to happen, honestly, and it was only the once.’
‘Oh, is that supposed to make me feel better? You lie down for my employer without a thought for me and you tell me now it was only the once. Why? Didn’t you satisfy him, then? Or was it done when he was bored and you were handy for him?’
Shanni began to cry. ‘I don’t know why I did it – I don’t care for him, I love you, Pedr.’
‘You love me! You love me so much that the minute I’m away you’re bedding another man. You call that love, do you? I don’t know how I’m going to live with this.’
‘Please, Pedr, don’t cry.’ Shanni saw his tears with horror. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, I really didn’t.’ She knelt on the floor beside his chair. ‘Pedr, I want to make it up to you. Will you just let me try again?’
‘I don’t know if I can ever forgive you, Shanni. I don’t know what to do.’ The tears were streaming down his cheeks. ‘I want to kill you, Shanni. I want to put my hands around your throat and strangle the life out of you. And yet I love you, God help me!’
‘I deserve it all,’ Shanni sobbed. ‘I’ve made the worst mistake of my life because it’s you, I love, Pedr. If you give me another chance I promise with all my heart I won’t ever stray again.’
‘How can I trust you, Shanni? How can I work for the bastard who took my wife?’
‘We’ll go away,’ Shanni said. ‘Move to another part of the country, work at a different pottery.’ She put her arms around his neck and hugged him close. ‘I love you so much, Pedr, I really do. I’d give my life for you – please believe me.’
She pressed her cheek to his and their tears mingled. ‘I’m sorry, so sorry, Pedr. What a fool I’ve been. I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again.’
He held her close then, his arms warm around her. ‘You’re my woman, Shanni, and I can’t live without you.’
‘What have I done to you, my love?’ she said brokenly.
Pedr took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘We’ll sort it out. I’ll find work somewhere else as you say, move right away from Swansea, go where no one has ever heard of that bastard Dafydd Buchan.’
Shanni closed her eyes and breathed in the familiar scent of her husband. She knew she would go to the ends of the earth with him, if he asked her to. She kissed his cheek, his forehead and then his lips, and they clung together like children lost in a storm. ‘I hate Dafydd Buchan but I hate myself so much more,’ she said, her voice full of tears.
‘Hush now, we’ll say no more about it. Let us try to pick up the pieces and see if we can get on with our life, Shanni.’
‘We will, Pedr. I’ll be the best wife in the world, I promise you.’ She got to her feet and wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. ‘Now, my love, shall I make us a nice cup of tea?’
Pedr nodded, unable to speak, and as Shanni pushed the kettle onto the fire she made a silent vow that, whatever it cost her, she would make it up to Pedr.
Katie was arranging flowers when Mr Morton-Edwards came into the house. His face was unusually flushed and his mouth set in a thin line. His daughter was with him and she looked pale and upset but in control of herself. Katie bobbed a curtsey and took their coats.
They went into the drawing room and closed the door. ‘I don’t think I can even make a pretence of living with him, Father.’ She made no attempt to lower her voice. ‘I have no respect left for my husband. He’s a weak, stupid man.’
‘Jayne, I’m furious with Buchan for the way he caused a scene but most married men have their mistresses.’
‘Well, then, their wives are at fault for allowing it!’ Jayne said angrily. ‘I will not be intimate with a man who has taken another woman.’
Katie felt sorry for Mrs Buchan: it seemed they were in the same boat. Not that she and Bull were married.
‘But, Jayne, think of the scandal if you were to leave your husband. What part would you take in society then? You would be shunned by all the wives, who would see you as a threat.’
‘I would hate to be left out of everything, but how can I bear to be in the same house as Dafydd?’
‘Don’t you love him at all, Jayne?’ Mr Morton-Edwards asked quietly. ‘You were so hell-bent on marriage that I believed he was everything in life to you.’
‘Well, he is – he was.’ There was a tremor in Jayne’s voice. ‘But my pride will not allow me to—’
‘To hell with pride!’ her father said sternly. ‘Go home to your husband before you lose him altogether.’
‘But, Papa, how can I allow him into my bed after what he’s done?’
‘It was only once, you say?’
‘As far as I know.’ Jayne sighed. ‘But if he’s been unfaithful once what’s to say he won’t be again?’
‘There are no guarantees in life, Jayne, and it’s time you learned that. Make the best of the happy times and put up with the bad. That’s what most wives do – husbands, too, come to that.’
There was a sudden thundering on the front door and Katie almost knocked over the flowers. She opened the door and drew back as Mr Buchan stormed into the house.
He walked straight past her and into the drawing room. All Katie could hear then was subdued voices, so whatever passed between the married couple she did not know, but a few minutes later Mr Buchan emerged and his wife was with him.
Jayne’s pale hair was ruffled, her cheeks were red and tears stood in her eyes. ‘My coat, Katie.’
Katie helped her into it, then stood back as Mr Buchan led his wife away. She saw the droop of Jayne’s shoulders and knew how she was feeling.
‘Ah, Katie.’ Mr Morton-Edwards was standing in the doorway of the drawing room, making an effort to behave as though nothing was wrong. ‘Ask Cook to serve supper early tonight. I’ll be going out.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Katie bobbed a curtsey and left for the kitchen.
Mrs Grinter patted the seat beside her. She’d sat down for a few minutes’ rest. ‘Tell me what’s been going on above stairs.’
‘Mr and Mrs Buchan had a falling out,’ she said, reluctant to gossip yet not wishing to snub Cook. ‘She came home with her father but Mr Buchan appeared and he’s taken her home with him.’
‘Well, I knew that much!’ Cook frowned. ‘What was they saying, though? Is he confessing he’s done wrong or what?’
Katie hesitated. ‘Well, the row was about Shanni Morgan.’ She took a deep breath. What was the point in being discreet when her so-called betters were behaving like children? ‘Mrs Buchan knows he put Shanni in the way for a baby.’
‘Duw, duw! No wonder she’s mad at him. I don’t blame her one little bit.’ She clucked her tongue in disapproval. ‘Some of these gentry are no better than they should be.’
Katie was tired and dispirited. Why were men such fools for a pretty face, even Bull Beynon, a man she had thought she could trust? ‘Is there any man true to his vows, Cook?’ she said softly. She saw Rhiannon smile at her naïvety and felt a little foolish.
‘Bless you, no, child. Show a man a trim ankle and he falls for it every time. If you saw what I’ve seen over the years you’d have no respect for men at all. That’s why I’m on my own, see? What about you, Rhiannon? What do you think about men? Are you getting over that Bull Beynon now?’
Rhiannon sighed. ‘I suppose I’ve got to.’ She looked at Katie. ‘I was wrong to wa
rn you off Bull. He’s not mine any more, he’s made that plain enough even for me. One of us might as well be happy.’
‘I don’t know I can trust him again,’ Katie said reluctantly.
‘I suppose he took it for granted that you knew, you silly girl.’ Rhiannon shook her head. ‘What do you think men and women from the track do? Play at house like children or what?’
Cook leaned her fat elbows on the table and saved Katie from having to reply. ‘What’s my orders for supper then? I ‘spects you’ve got something to tell me, haven’t you?’
‘You’re to serve supper early, the master is going out,’ Katie answered.
‘I’d better get to work, then. The soup’s done and the roast’s in the oven but I’ve yet to make the custard for the pudding. Get me some eggs from the cold larder, will you, Katie? And you, Rhiannon, get me a nice big mixing-bowl.’ She clapped her hands. ‘Time to go back to work, girls.’
It was Sunday, the church bells were ringing clearly on the soft breeze and Bull was gazing at the unfamiliar street outside his window. On the trackside the men would be leaving for the public bars, the women sitting outside on the grass verges and the smell of roasting meat would pervade the air. He felt very alone.
Now that the line had been laid into Swansea, he’d begun his duties as manager and he revelled in the extra responsibility but he felt he had lost the camaraderie of the navvies.
The churches and chapels were emptying now and respectably dressed worshippers were on their way home. Bull saw a family coming along the road, a father, mother and three young children, all clutching prayer-books. Somehow it was a comforting sight.
He was about to turn away from the window when he saw her, and his heart pounded in his chest like a drum. Katie was still a little way off but he would have known her anywhere. He held his breath. Was she coming to see him? He could scarcely believe it when she hesitated at his gate then pushed it open and came along the path to his house.
He opened the door before she could knock and stood back for her to enter. She smelled of fresh grass and flowers, and there was a bloom on her cheeks as she looked up at him. ‘I thought I’d come calling, Bull, is it all right?’