Winners and Losers

by Catrin Collier

  ‘Alun won’t be doing anything like that again,’ Victor said forcefully.

  ‘Not when you’re around to protect Megan,’ Joyce concurred. ‘But you can’t fight everyone in Tonypandy, Mr Evans.’

  ‘I’ve warned everyone that I will sort out the next person to give Megan any trouble.’

  Mrs Palmer made the tea and set the pot on the table with the milk jug and sugar bowl. She poured a cup, added milk and carried it to the door.

  ‘I will be in my room reading the paper if anyone wants me, Megan.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘It is ten o’clock now, Mr Evans, I expect Megan to be upstairs at eleven. We keep the housework to a minimum on Sunday but we still have to give the public rooms a quick once over, prepare and serve the meals, and make the beds. If you intend to escort Megan to chapel, I suggest you pick her up outside the kitchen door at five o’clock. You will have to be back at eight to help with the suppers, Megan.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Palmer, and thank you,’ Megan stammered in surprise.

  ‘Goodnight.’ Joyce took her tea and closed the door behind her.

  Victor looked at Megan, ‘I can’t believe she did that.’

  ‘This place will never be home, in the way my uncle’s house was, but Mrs Palmer is kinder and a lot more understanding than some of the other people around here.’

  ‘So I’m beginning to discover.’ Victor laid his hand over Megan’s, as she sat opposite him at the table.

  Chapter Eleven

  Megan showed Victor out at ten minutes to eleven. She washed and dried their teacups and spoons and put them away. After checking around the kitchen, which Mrs Palmer had already cleaned and tidied, she lit a candle to take upstairs. She knocked on Mrs Palmer’s door on her way through the hall and called, ‘Goodnight.’

  Joyce answered and Megan started climbing the stairs. When she reached the first landing, Sergeant Martin moved out of the doorway of his room. In the week since she had worked in the house she had never seen him other than immaculately dressed in his uniform. But his shirt was collarless, his braces unbuttoned and he was barefoot.

  ‘Good evening, Miss Williams.’ She backed towards the staircase that led to the next floor. ‘I didn’t frighten you, did I?’

  She shook her head, not wanting to talk to him.

  He moved quickly, clamping his hand over hers, pinning it to the banister. ‘You hurt my feelings when you refused the chocolates.’

  Megan had seen her uncle and his brothers drunk during the days when they had earned enough to treat themselves to a couple of nights out a week and she recognized the smell of whisky on the sergeant’s breath. But there was none of the affable jollity she’d associated with her uncle’s infrequent binges. The sergeant’s eyes were cold, and from the state of his dress she suspected that he had been drinking alone in his room.

  ‘I can’t accept expensive presents, sir. Please,’ she asked with as much dignity as she could muster, ‘let me go.’

  ‘Was that your young man I saw you with on the mountain?’

  ‘I told you that Victor and I are engaged.’

  ‘Then you should know he’s a criminal. He’ll be up in court soon. He could go to prison.’ He knocked her arm aside, closed his free hand around her chin and twisted her face towards him. ‘A girl like you deserves a man who earns good money and can look after her.’

  ‘I love Victor.’ She grabbed his hand and tried to prise it away, but he was too strong for her.

  ‘Forget him, take my chocolates. I’ll buy you more, and silk stockings and dresses. Anything you want. You could have a good time with me. Money no object. We’ll go to the best hotels -’

  ‘Please, let me go!’ She fought to free her arm.

  A door banged downstairs and masculine laughter echoed through the hall.

  ‘Let me go!’ she repeated, raising her voice in the hope of attracting someone’s attention.

  At the sound of a step on the stairs the sergeant retreated to his room, leaving her feeling relieved, lightheaded –and angry.

  She ran up to her room. Lena was already in bed. Setting the candle down, she turned the key quietly in the lock of the door, undressed, slipped on her nightdress and crawled between the icy sheets. There was something hard beneath her pillow. Her blood ran cold when she slid her hand beneath it and pulled out the box of chocolates.

  Victor walked into the kitchen to find Lloyd sitting in one of the easy chairs, staring at the cold ashes in the hearth. He sat opposite him and loosened his collar. His own problems were preying on his mind, but Lloyd looked so preoccupied he tried to set them aside for a moment. ‘You look like I feel. Is there anything I can do to help?’

  Lloyd glanced up at his brother then at the clock. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’

  ‘I saw.’

  ‘Sali went to bed an hour ago. I meant to follow her up but I started thinking. It really came home to me today just how much she is giving up to stay with us.’

  ‘With you, not us,’ Victor corrected. ‘Your day in Pontypridd didn’t go well?’

  ‘That’s an understatement.’ Lloyd shivered. The temperature had dropped considerably since he had raked out the fire and he hadn’t even noticed. ‘I looked around Ynysangharad House -’

  ‘You’ve been there before, and so have I –to the back door,’ Victor said without a trace of malice. ‘We both know she could live in a mansion with servants at her beck and call instead of here, skivvying for us. But she’s made her choice, Lloyd.’

  ‘When I said I looked round, I mean really looked. The size of the rooms, the gardens, the furniture, and like you said, there’s so many servants there she’d never have to lift a finger, but instead she works in a soup kitchen and comes back here at the end of the day to do our scrubbing and cleaning.’ Lloyd pulled out his empty pipe and stared at it. ‘Have you ever thought what Harry is going to think of her and us –me –for bringing him up in this house?’

  ‘Yes,’ Victor replied decisively. ‘He’s going to remember the good times. Being surrounded by people who loved and cared for him. Who were never too busy to talk to him, or read to him. Playing with his friends on the mountain. Going rabbiting with the dogs -’

  ‘Not living in a house without a bathroom, with cheap, old-fashioned furniture?’ Lloyd countered. ‘Trying to survive during a strike. Eating in a school hall and a soup kitchen, being rousted from bed by police raiding the house and seeing his uncles and stepfather coming home bleeding and bruised after battling with the law?’

  ‘You’re the one who’s always saying the way a person lives their life is more important than what they own,’ Victor reminded.

  ‘I was wrong. Material possessions and wealth bring responsibility –and drawbacks,’ Lloyd added. ‘Sali’s brother, Geraint, asked the trustees today to take Harry away from her so he can be raised like a “gentleman” in Ynysangharad House.’

  ‘As opposed to being raised as a collier here?’ Victor shifted in his chair.

  ‘There’s no way that I would raise Harry to be a collier. Not with the future he has mapped out for him.’

  ‘Exactly. But it sounds to me as if you’re saying that because Sali’s brother is trying to take control of Harry’s upbringing, you’re having second thoughts about marrying her.’

  ‘Only for her and Harry’s sake.’

  ‘I’d say they are the last people you’re thinking about,’ Victor said. ‘If Geraint is trying to take control of Harry and his fortune, Sali needs your help and support more than ever. And you’re an idiot if you can’t see that.’

  ‘You don’t think I’m being selfish in marrying her?’

  It took a second or two for Victor to realize that Lloyd was serious. ‘I’ve never seen a couple as happy as you. Or a boy who looks up to his father as much as Harry does you.’

  ‘He loves you and Joey more.’ Lloyd only realised how petty that sounded after he’d spoken.

  ‘No, he doesn’t,’ Victor denied. ‘He likes us because we’re his unc
les –his butties the ones he can have fun with because we don’t have the responsibility of making serious decisions on his behalf. You’re a fool to allow Sali’s brother to upset you, Lloyd. You two are made for one another and you’re the perfect stepfather for Harry.’ He frowned in concern. ‘Can Geraint take Harry away from Sali?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Lloyd rose from his chair, stretched his cold muscles and gently rubbed his aching ribs. Although days had elapsed since his beating, at times his injuries were almost as painful as when they’d been inflicted. ‘The trustees voted him down today.’

  ‘If they’ve any sense they will continue do that.’

  ‘The trustees may have sense when it comes to making business decisions but they are also snobs and this,’ Lloyd looked around the kitchen, ‘is not a fit place in which to bring up the heir to a fortune.’

  ‘It’s clean, it’s comfortable and it’s paid for, which is more than can be said for some of the mansions of the crache, or so I’ve heard. According to Connie, and she should know, the richer the man the less qualms he has about paying his bills.’

  ‘And this coming from a striking miner.’

  ‘We’re a better bet than some of the people who drive round in carriages and eat off silver plates.’ Victor remembered his own troubles. ‘I’d give anything to be in your shoes and in a position to marry.’

  ‘I trust you mean to Megan not Sali.’

  ‘That’s not funny.’

  ‘It isn’t, but you can’t blame me for trying after the day I’ve had. I saw Joey when we came back from Pontypridd. He told me he gave you and Megan tickets for the Empire. Was it a good show?’

  ‘The show was good, what happened afterwards wasn’t.’ Not wanting to dwell on his loss of temper, or the insult to Megan, Victor outlined the evening’s events in as few words as possible.

  ‘And I thought I had problems. Damn Alun Richards, who the hell does he think he is, attacking a defenceless woman?’ Lloyd rubbed his hands together to warm them.

  ‘After what I did to him, he’ll think twice before he has a go at Megan again.’

  ‘You can’t fight everyone.’

  ‘That’s what Mrs Palmer said, but I can have a bloody good try,’ Victor snapped.

  ‘I’ll have a word with the committee. If they agree, we’ll let it be known that the next man to have a go at Mrs Palmer, or any of her staff, will have to answer to us.’

  ‘You’ll throw them out of the union?’ Victor asked hopefully.

  ‘If it was up to me, yes, but it’s the committee’s decision, and like all committees we have our idiots. But that’s democracy for you. The fool who can talk endless rubbish that sounds good gets elected before the quiet wise man who has a problem expressing his thoughts.’

  ‘Much as I hate Megan working in that lodging house, she’ll be safe enough while she’s there. No one would dare insult her, Mrs Palmer or that other girl in a houseful of policemen, and she’s promised me she won’t leave it unless I’m with her.’ Victor took a cup from the dresser and filled it with water.

  ‘You have to think ahead to what’s going to happen when the police leave,’ Lloyd cautioned. ‘They won’t be stationed in this valley forever.’

  ‘You think Megan could be in for more trouble from the likes of Alun Richards when the strike ends?’

  ‘Most of the boys are decent enough.’ Lloyd avoided giving Victor a direct answer. ‘Perhaps they just need to be reminded that we’re fighting management not defenceless women. When are you and Megan going out again?’

  ‘Mrs Palmer has given her time off to go to chapel tomorrow.’ Victor took a sip of water, rinsed out the cup and placed it on the wooden draining board.

  ‘And no doubt she wants to go.’

  ‘Despite your and Dad’s best efforts, more people in this valley go to the churches and chapels than Marxist meetings.’

  ‘Only if you count children who are forced to attend by their parents, and men and women who allow the ministers, vicars and priests to do their thinking for them,’ Lloyd said.

  ‘Too many people who attend the Baptist Chapel write to relatives in the Swansea Valley. If Megan suddenly stopped going to services, her father might get to hear of it, and she’s terrified he’ll use the slightest excuse to drag her back home.’

  ‘I doubt he’ll do that while she’s earning good money and sending most of it to him,’ Lloyd commented. ‘Surely a good Catholic boy like you can’t be thinking of going to chapel with her?’

  ‘After what happened today, I don’t see that I have a choice.’

  ‘Aren’t you afraid that Father Kelly will excommunicate you?’ Lloyd wasn’t entirely joking.

  ‘Father Kelly is a pragmatist, he’ll give me dispensation.’

  Lloyd made a wry face. ‘All I can say is thank God I don’t have to ask a priest’s permission to live my life the way I see fit.’

  ‘I didn’t think atheists thanked God,’ Victor mocked.

  ‘They don’t, and neither do they go to chapel, but I might make an exception tomorrow.’ Lloyd knelt down awkwardly, lifted the brush and ash pan from the set of fire irons and swept the hearth.

  ‘You in chapel! You’ll set the whole town talking.’

  ‘No more than you did thumping Alun Richards tonight.’

  ‘He had it coming to him.’ Victor sat back in his chair. ‘If only I could marry Megan, but even if she was of age and moved in with us, I couldn’t pay the fifteen shillings a week she sends home to her family ... unless ...’

  ‘Unless what?’ Lloyd was instantly on the alert. Several moneymaking schemes were being mooted amongst the strikers, all reckless, some dangerous and a few downright illegal. Victor was normally sensible but he was also desperately in love and the fact that he’d lost his temper and floored Alun Richards spoke volumes about his state of mind.

  Unwilling to get embroiled in an argument about bare-knuckle boxing, Victor gave Lloyd a self-conscious grin, ‘Rob a bank.’

  ‘I can’t recommend that as a way to make money in the Rhondda this week. Given the state of the bank accounts of the few who can afford them, the vaults and safes will be empty.’

  ‘You’re probably right.’ Victor glanced at the clock. ‘Dad in bed or the County Club?’

  ‘The club.’

  ‘Joey?’

  Lloyd lifted one bruised eyebrow. ‘A little bird told me that he’s been seen going around the back of Jane Edwards’ house.’

  ‘Then the Virgin Mother and all the saints help him if Emlyn gets to hear about it.’ Victor was genuinely concerned. ‘I’ll try to talk some sense into him.’

  ‘What makes you think you’ll succeed when everyone else has failed for the last nineteen years?’ Lloyd asked. ‘But on a brighter note, how are you enjoying life as one half of an engaged couple? Judging by the smile on Megan’s face and what she said the last time I spoke to her, she’s happy to be wearing Mam’s engagement ring.’

  ‘Dad said Sali didn’t want it.’ Victor was instantly on the defensive.

  ‘Given that she’d been married before, and Dad offered her Mam’s wedding ring, she thought it should go to Megan and I agreed with her. I picked you up a small present.’ Lloyd delved into his pocket and pulled out a packet wrapped in brown paper and string.

  Victor took the parcel and flipped it over suspiciously.

  ‘A French letter,’ Lloyd explained. ‘At half-a-crown a time they’re pricey but cheaper than a baby. If you’re careful it should last a month, or even longer in your case because you don’t get as many opportunities ...’

  Victor turned bright red. ‘Lloyd!’

  Lloyd burst out laughing at his brother’s embarrassment. ‘For pity’s sake, Victor, if you can’t talk frankly to your brother about personal matters, who can you talk to? I’m broke, but they’re the one thing I dare not economize on, because Sali’s family are difficult enough now without her getting pregnant before our wedding day.’

  ‘It’s different for you
two.’

  ‘Not that different. I know you take your religion and the church almost as seriously as Mam did, and Catholics aren’t supposed to control the size of their families but given Megan’s father’s antagonism towards you, surely you don’t want to risk Megan getting pregnant before you marry.’

  ‘I always thought Megan and I should wait until our wedding night before ... well ... before ...’

  Lloyd regained his composure before Victor. ‘You’ve been going out with the girl for two years, and you can barely keep your hands off one another when you’re in the same room. Don’t you think that another two years will put an unbearable strain on your relationship?’

  When Victor remained silent, Lloyd said, ‘I bought it for you, do what you want with it, but for now, stick it in your pocket. That’s the front door opening. And if it’s Joey, I’m not risking bankruptcy to keep him supplied in French letters.’

  ‘Please, Joey, stay with me, I get so-o-o lonely without you,’ Jane Edwards whined. She wrapped her arm around Joey’s chest and tried to hold on to him, as he rolled away from her to the edge of the bed.

  He wrinkled his nose. It was stiff with cold. Reluctantly he moved his arm out from beneath the bedclothes into the icy atmosphere and shifted the saucer holding the burning candle stub closer to the alarm clock. ‘It’s after midnight. My father and brothers are getting suspicious.’

  ‘Who cares?’ She dug her nails into his arm, as he tried to leave the bed.

  ‘I care. Stop messing, Jane. I’m a mass of bites and scratches as it is and it’s difficult to explain them away.’

  ‘To your other women?’ She scraped her nails down his arm, shaving off slivers of skin.

  ‘I said stop messing!’ He hit her hand away and rummaged through the clothes he’d flung on the floor in search of his drawers.

  ‘I hate sleeping alone,’ she pouted.

  ‘You won’t have to when Emlyn comes out.’

  ‘Don’t remind me. He’s old, he smells, he has false teeth that he takes out at night. And he’s horrid to me.’

  ‘Then why did you marry him?’