‘Sorry, sir,’ Bob Pritchard corrected.
‘Sorry, sir.’ David mimicked the agent’s voice and inflection perfectly, but his eyes gleamed with undisguised loathing.
Bob made another note in his book and Mary pushed David, willing him to move out of the agent’s reach. She was terrified that Bob Pritchard would strike her brother a second time and David would fight back. But Bob snapped his book shut. He looked her up and down. ‘I trust you wash yourself occasionally as well as the pigsties, Mary?’
Mortified, she muttered, ‘I do.’
‘Forty pounds. Take it, or vacate the farm.’
‘We’ll take it.’
‘That will bring your arrears down to one hundred and ten pounds after this quarter’s interest is paid. You’d better start looking around for something else that you can sell to make inroads on the rest.’
‘We’ve sold all we can. If you left us more livestock -’
‘I’ve done all I can for you today. But I tell you what I will do.’ He gave her a cold, insincere smile. ‘I’ll take a good look at the books tonight and do some thinking. I’ll be back this way mid-morning tomorrow. We can have a chat about your situation then. You’ll be here?’
Mary gripped the broom handle tightly as much to stop herself from shaking as for support. ‘I’ll be here.’
He tipped his hat to her, and sideswiped David’s cap from his head on his way back to his trap. ‘It’s rude to keep your cap on in the presence of your betters, David Ellis. One day you’ll get the horsewhipping you deserve. I only hope I’ll be around to see it.’
‘Don’t say another word,’ Mary warned as the agent walked out of earshot and David opened his mouth.
‘What is there left for you and Bob the Gob to talk about?’ David demanded. ‘He’s taken every stick we had that was worth anything.’
‘I think he suspects that we sell eggs and chickens direct to Craig-y-Nos and the Colonial Stores in Pontardawe, and is after a share of the money.’
‘Hand it to him and we may as well walk to the workhouse this afternoon.’ David picked his cap up from the yard and flipped it back on to his head. ‘At least we’d get three meals of sorts a day there,’ he added sourly.
Mary couldn’t bring herself to consider the possibility that they might end up in the workhouse as so many of their neighbours had, including Albert Jones, the stockman her father had once employed. It was too huge, too terrifying a prospect, so she did what she always did whenever there was a problem she didn’t want to think about, and concentrated on the immediate task in hand. She looked down at the floor of the sty. ‘As you’re here, pull me another couple of buckets of water from the well, Davy.’
‘Can I help?’ Matthew asked eagerly.
‘If you want,’ David answered flatly. He set Luke on his shoulders before picking up the buckets.
Mary watched her brothers cross the yard with a sinking heart. She hoped that they and her sister, Martha, would never find out how low she had sunk to keep the roof of the Ellis farmhouse over their heads. David had the hot Ellis temper, and there was no saying what he would do. And she couldn’t bear the thought of Bob Pritchard beating him to a pulp – or making a complaint to the police that would result in him being birched or sent to a Borstal.
Without David, she knew that she would no longer have the heart or the will to carry on fighting to keep the Ellis Estate.
The waiting room in the Graig Infirmary was dark and dingy, the sickly green paintwork above the brown-tiled dado depressing. But it was clean – if the stench of disinfectant was any indication of hygiene. There were only four chairs and, at the men’s insistence, Sali had taken one. Lloyd sat beside her, holding her hand, but Victor, Joey and Harry stood, leaning against the wall and staring at the door.
The sister had been furious when they’d arrived en masse, an hour and a half after Edyth had been taken from Ynysangharad House, but when Lloyd made it clear that they wouldn’t leave until they had seen the doctor she had reluctantly shown them into the cheerless cubicle.
The door opened and all five of them looked up. The nurse held the door as the doctor walked in.
‘I told them they couldn’t stay -’
‘It’s all right, Sister. I know this family well. The Mr Evanses have sat on several of the same committees as me.’ He fell serious. ‘Edyth’s fractured her skull. Her brain is bruised and swollen, and she’s in a coma. Until she comes out of it there’s no way of knowing what, if any, damage has been done. I’ve taken the liberty of putting her in a private room. She will have her own nurse sitting next to her bed at all times.’
‘It’s what we would have asked for. Thank you.’ Lloyd gripped Sali’s hand tighter. ‘If it’s a question of money -’
‘It’s a question of waiting, not money, Lloyd. I know that will be hard on you,’ the doctor glanced at Harry, ‘all of you, but please, be assured she will receive exactly the same care here as she would in any other hospital. Even an expensive one in London.’
‘I was hoping that we could nurse her at home,’ Sali murmured.
‘Until she regains consciousness, I would strongly advise against moving her; it could do untold damage to a patient in her condition.’ He gave Sali a small smile. ‘I’ve persuaded Sister to bend the rules and allow you and your husband to see your daughter for a few minutes. But you’ll have to be quick – and quiet.’
‘We will.’ Lloyd helped Sali from the chair and they left.
‘How is Dad?’ Victor and Joey asked in unison.
‘I’ve been up to the isolation ward. Not that I had any doubt, but it’s definitely tuberculosis. He’s stopped haemorrhaging, but he could start again at any time.’
Victor paled and Harry knew he was thinking of his sons. TB was rife in the Rhondda Valley. Virulently contagious, it killed more children and young people than any other disease.
‘As Billy lived with you, Victor, I’ll arrange for you, Megan, the boys and Betty Morgan’ – Billy’s one-time neighbour and housekeeper had also moved to Victor’s farm to help Megan with her children – ‘to have chest X-rays. In fact, it would be a good idea for all of you to have one. Your family as well as Lloyd’s and Victor’s, Joey. Billy could have been incubating the disease for years.’
‘I’ve heard people talk about the isolation ward here,’ Joey said disparagingly. ‘It’s over-crowded. There aren’t enough nurses to see to all the patients.’
‘Unfortunately you are right, but I have arranged for your father to have a private room like young Edyth.’
‘But what care can you give him here, Doctor Williams?’ Joey pressed, refusing to accept the death sentence that had just been pronounced on his father.
‘There is no effective treatment for tuberculosis. As a last resort in some cases we operate, and deflate the more diseased lung in the hope that the remaining lung will recover. Unfortunately, given the amount of dust in your father’s lungs, that option is closed to him.’
‘There are clinics in Switzerland,’ Joey suggested hopefully.
‘He would never survive the journey,’ the doctor countered bluntly.
‘So what can you do for him here?’ Joey demanded.
‘Other than try to make him comfortable, nothing.’
‘Can we at least see him?’ Victor asked.
‘Visiting is heavily restricted on the isolation ward,’ Dr Williams hedged.
‘We can’t just leave him here, in the workhouse!’ Joey exclaimed bitterly.
‘Your father is not in the workhouse any more than young Edyth is. He is in the infirmary.’
‘Wing of the workhouse, a place full of dying people,’ Joey broke in testily. ‘I won’t leave Dad here, no matter how ill he is. We’ll employ nurses to care for him. He can come to my house.’
‘Are you prepared to expose your five young children and your wife to the disease, Joey?’
‘No, of course not,’ Joey replied angrily.
‘Besides, it’s not simply
a question of day and night nursing. Your father needs a doctor’s constant supervision and he can only get that in a hospital.’
‘We know that you are only concerned about our father’s health and that of our family, Doctor Williams, but there has to be somewhere else that we can send him. Perhaps a clinic or hospital that specializes in lung diseases?’ Victor suggested diplomatically.
The doctor thought for a moment. ‘There is a sanatorium that offers specialized treatment. I believe it offers the best care not only in Wales, but the whole of Britain, although I’m not sure they’ll take a patient in your father’s advanced condition. It is called Craig-y-Nos, in the Swansea Valley.’
‘Will you at least ask if he can go there?’ Victor looked up when Lloyd and Sali returned. Both were dry-eyed but their eyes were dark with misery.
Dr Williams turned from Sali and Lloyd back to Victor. ‘I’ll telephone the sanatorium, and talk to the doctor in charge there. I’ll let you know what he says.’
‘Packing for France?’ Sali asked Harry the next morning when she walked into his bedroom to find his trunk open and his clothes strewn over his bed.
‘Unpacking to stay.’
She sat on his bed. ‘Darling, Lloyd and I have discussed this. We can’t do anything for Edyth except pray, follow Doctor Williams’s advice, and allow him and the nurses to care for her until she regains consciousness. Hopefully, we will find somewhere that can offer your granddad better treatment than the isolation ward of the Graig, but even if we do, we won’t be allowed to visit him very often and possibly not at all. Whether we like it or not, we have to get on with our lives as best we can.’
Harry shook his head. ‘I’m not going to Paris while Granddad and Edyth remain in hospital.’
‘That could be months in both cases.’ Lloyd was in the doorway. ‘I’ve just talked to Victor on the telephone. Doctor Williams has asked us to call into his surgery at four o’clock this afternoon.’
‘Can I come with you?’ Harry asked.
Lloyd recalled how Harry had sat with his father the day before, and how close they were. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind one more.’
Sali rose from Harry’s bed. ‘I’ll stay here with the girls, and invite Megan and Rhian and their children over for tea. They’re bound to be feeling as wretched as we are.’
Dr Williams sent his receptionist to fetch an extra chair when Harry walked in with his father and uncles. He waited until she closed the door before speaking. ‘
I have spoken to the doctor in charge of the sanatorium I told you about.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Perhaps it would be better if I started at the beginning. The Welsh Memorial Trust bought Craig-y-Nos Castle after its owner, Madame Patti, died seven years ago. She was wealthy enough to live anywhere in the world but she chose Craig-y-Nos because she was very particular about her health, especially her throat and lungs. The air there is supposed to be especially beneficial and healthy, so they’ve turned the castle into a sanatorium for patients suffering from chest ailments, principally tuberculosis. An old colleague of mine, Doctor George Adams, has been running it for the past five years. He’s the foremost expert on lung disease in Britain. But it’s expensive …’
‘Money’s no object when it comes to Dad’s care,’ Joey interrupted. ‘Not if there’s a chance of curing him.’
‘No one can cure your father, Joey. All Doctor Adams will be able to offer your father, that’s if he can offer him anything,’ Dr Williams qualified, ‘is a more comfortable end to his days.’
Victor swallowed hard. ‘But he will take Dad as a patient?’
‘He’s agreed to look at his clinical notes. I’ll put them in the post today.’
‘I’ll drive there tomorrow and hand them to him,’ Harry volunteered. He looked at his father and uncles. ‘It makes sense. One of us should look at the place and talk to the doctor. Dad and Mam can’t go, not with Edyth in hospital, and you two won’t want to go far from Pontypridd while Granddad is here. If Doctor Adams agrees to take Granddad, all I have to do is telephone you – there’s bound to be one in the sanatorium. And then you can make arrangements to transfer him there.’
‘That makes sense,’ Dr Williams agreed. ‘Should Doctor Adams agree to take your father, he’ll want to begin treating him as soon as possible. I’ll telephone him again later and tell him you’re coming, Harry. And you can pick up your grandfather’s notes here tomorrow morning before you leave. I’ll have them ready for you.’
‘Thank you, Doctor Williams. Could you also give me the address of the sanatorium so I can look it up on the map?’
‘I can, but you won’t miss it. It’s on the main road between Swansea and Brecon.’
Glad that he finally had something to do, Harry turned to his father and uncles. ‘Then that’s decided? I’ll leave first thing in the morning.’
Sali had insisted that Lloyd’s brothers and their wives join them for tea, but none of the adults had eaten much, and when she looked at the plates of sandwiches, cakes, salad and sweet and savoury pies that had been barely touched, she hoped the children had done more justice to the food Mari had laid out for them in the garden parlour.
‘A delegation from the union called round the farm just before we drove down here. You know what it’s like in Tonypandy,’ Victor said deprecatingly.
‘We do.’ Lloyd handed Sali his cup for a refill.
‘They heard that Dad has TB and they said that even with the strike on, union funds could stretch to paying Dad’s hospital bills,’ Megan finished.
‘There’s no need,’ Harry interposed. ‘I’ll borrow the money from my trust.’
Lloyd gave Harry a stern look. His stepson’s cavalier attitude towards his trust fund as an unlimited source of revenue that he had done nothing to earn was the single source of contention between them. ‘As Joey told Doctor Williams, money’s no object and the least of our problems. Dad has saved all his life. He’ll want to pay his own bills, even if it means selling a couple of the houses he owns.’
‘You’re determined to take Dad’s notes to this sanatorium tomorrow, Harry?’ Joey asked.
‘Yes,’ Harry said firmly. ‘As I said earlier, none of you will want to leave Pontypridd while Dad and Edyth are in the Graig. And although I’m not questioning Doctor Williams’s description of this sanatorium, it might be as well if one of us sees what they can offer him before we take him there. It will be a long journey for someone as ill as he is.’
‘What about Paris?’ Rhian asked. ‘You were so excited at Easter when you had the letter to say that a place had been reserved for you at the studio you chose.’
‘I can go to Paris any time,’ Harry said dismissively.
‘If they show you around the sanatorium, be careful,’ Lloyd warned. ‘Tuberculosis is highly contagious.’
Harry shrugged. ‘I’m too strong and healthy to catch anything.’
‘It’s horrible, especially the later stages.’ Joey recalled a world he had tried – unsuccessfully – to forget. More soldiers had died of disease, including tuberculosis, in the hospital tents in Mesopotamia than from wounds.
‘People waste away to skeletons and cough up their lungs,’ he continued. ‘It’s messy and terrible to watch when the patient is a stranger. We all know how fond you are of Dad and him of you, Harry, but are you sure you know what you’re volunteering for, in visiting this place?’
‘I haven’t overdosed on Keats’s poetry or The Lady with the Camellias, if that’s what you’re thinking, Uncle Joey. And I’ve visited hospitals. I delivered food to some when the General Strike was called in May.’
‘And you let this blackleg into your house, Lloyd?’ Victor’s poor attempt at a joke fell leadenly into the heavy atmosphere.
‘The volunteers only kept essential services going, they weren’t after anyone’s job.’ Lloyd stared thoughtfully at his stepson. ‘Well, all I can say, Harry, is you’re right. One of us should see the sanatorium before subjecting Dad to the journey there. Thank you
for taking it upon yourself.’
Harry winked at Bella, the only other one of his generation who had been allowed to eat with the adults. She was very obviously close to tears.
‘I wish we could see Dad, if only for a couple of minutes, to ask him how he feels about going to this Craig-y-Nos,’ Victor said feelingly.
‘If Doctor Adams does agree to take Dad as a patient, and Harry thinks the place is suitable, we might see Dad sooner than we think,’ Lloyd consoled him.
‘If everything is as Doctor Williams said, will you stay in the valley until we take Dad to the sanatorium, Harry?’ Victor asked.
‘That depends on how soon it can be arranged.’
‘If they’ll take him, we’ll bring him down the day after tomorrow,’ Joey said firmly. ‘I don’t think he should be left on the isolation ward of the Graig a day longer than necessary. On Doctor Williams’s own admission they can’t offer him any treatment.’
‘In that case I’ll stay. There’s bound to be a pub or a farmhouse nearby that rents out rooms.’ Harry turned to Megan. ‘You’re from the Swansea Valley, aren’t you, Aunty Megan?’
‘Yes, but it’s a long time since I’ve been there, I couldn’t recommend anywhere.’ Megan was estranged from her family. Her chapel deacon father had warned her that if she married Catholic Victor, he would count her name among the dead, and that he would do the same to her mother, brothers and sisters if they tried to contact her. But instead of deterring her, his threats had made her all the more determined to marry the man of her choice.
‘Is the climate there as good as Doctor Williams told us?’
‘To be honest, I don’t remember it being much different from Pontypridd, but I was only thirteen when I left. There’s iron and tinplate works as well as coal pits in the lower valley but the upper valley is pretty. There are woods, a river and a couple of waterfalls. I remember the castle. It’s huge and the gardens are beautiful; the river runs through them and there’s a small lake. There’s even a winter garden. I peeped in there once and saw lemons and oranges growing on trees. But when I was a girl Madame Patti was still alive and living there between tours. She built a theatre in Craig-y-Nos and gave free concerts for the local people. She had an incredibly clear and haunting voice. The chapel minister told us that theatres paid her five thousand pounds in gold to perform for a single night, and all the kings and queens in Europe would come to hear her, yet she’d sing for us for nothing. After the concerts her servants would give us tea and there’d be a present for every child. Two of my sisters worked there as maids and loved the place and her. For all I know, they could still be at the castle.’
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