A Sixpenny Christmas (45 page)

He had put a hand on his father’s shoulder, about to say he would make some porridge, for the old man had been subsisting on what Rhodri thought of as slops – tapioca pudding, semolina and porridge – ever since his wife’s death. But when his hand descended the old man had fallen sideways and Rhodri, his heart in his mouth,
had bent down and scooped him up in his arms, murmuring that he should not fall asleep so near an unguarded fire, but knowing, even as he said the words, that he was speaking to empty air; Dafydd Pritchard was no more.

Rhodri had carried his father through to the bedroom the old man had once shared with his Mair, laid him on the bed, and begun to do all that had to be done. Then he had gone down to Cefn Farm to break the bad news.

But now in the kitchen all was rejoicing, for not only was Rhys home at last but spring had well and truly arrived. The trees were in bud and on the banks and verges snowdrops and celandines had given place to primroses and violets, and the last time Nonny and Lana had gone to the hospital they had taken in a great bunch of primroses, Rhys’s favourite flowers. He was still in a wheelchair but assured them that he could manage short distances on crutches, but the surgeon’s words were still very much on his mind and the look that he cast around the kitchen was wistful as well as loving, for in his heart he knew Mr Callahan was right. Even the cool May breeze had set his bones to aching and he knew – or believed – that a winter in this place might well be the death of him. He was happy enough to be sitting by his own fireside with his family and friends around him, and he had assured Molly, who was fussing over him like a hen with one chick, that he felt fine, but he had decided that he would not break the news of the Australian offer until he had heard how the youngsters had managed without him. Already, however, his back ached and his legs and feet felt as though someone had lit the fire under them. Unaccustomed exercise had even affected his shoulders
and neck, but nothing could take away the sheer happiness of being at home, even though he doubted he would be here for long. But when Ellen pressed a cup of tea into his hands the truth must have become apparent; he could not hold it and the cup rattled and tipped so badly in its saucer that he was quite content to let Molly take it hastily from his grasp and tilt the tea into the feeding cup which he had hoped never to have to use again.

Molly saw his reluctance and, brushing the hair off his damp forehead, said in a low tone, ‘You old idiot; you know what the doctor said . . . this won’t happen in a warmer climate. I know you’ve longed for this day, dreamed of it, but as soon as you’ve drunk this tea Chris is going to help you to bed. Don’t you have a good son? He’s given up his lovely ground floor bedroom so you won’t have to climb the stairs, and he’s going to lend his strong arm to get you through there on your crutches . . .’

‘I don’t understand it; I’m weak as a kitten,’ Rhys mumbled. ‘Yesterday I walked all round the hospital on my crutches; today it was all I could do to cross the kitchen.’

‘Oh, Dad, you’re expecting too much,’ Nonny said reproachfully. ‘When you wake up tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep, you’ll be a great deal better. You’ve had an awfully hard day today, remember. I never realised getting out of hospital was such a complicated business! All those people you had to see, all the medicine you had to collect, forms to sign to say you were only borrowing the crutches . . . and then there was the journey. I know Chris drove as carefully as he
could, but the melting snow has made the roads treacherous and I expect you kept wanting to jam your foot on the brake . . .’

‘I did,’ Rhys admitted, giving the ghost of a chuckle. He turned to his wife. ‘Nonny’s right, cariad; I’ve been expecting too much. If Chris doesn’t mind helping me to bed, then that’s where I’ll go just as soon as I’ve finished this grand cup of tea. And don’t bother to bring me any of the delicious supper which I can smell coming from the oven, because I’m afraid I shall be fast asleep the moment I get between the sheets.’

Molly bent over and kissed him, and he whispered in her ear, ‘This has made me realise more than anything else could have done how right Mr Callahan was about Australia. We’ll tell them in a day or two, when I’m a bit more settled. Can you wait that long?’

‘Of course I can, my love,’ Molly said softly. ‘But I think the children will completely understand and tell us to seize the opportunity with both hands. Now drink your tea and be off to bed. We can talk more when I join you . . . if you aren’t asleep by then, that is!’

Two evenings after Rhys’s arrival home, the family gathered in the kitchen once more so that Chris and Rhodri might report to Rhys and Molly how they had managed in their absence.

It soon became apparent that they had managed very well indeed. True, they had employed Nat on a full-time basis, but the lambing had been successful, with almost no losses from either the depredations of foxes or the failure of the occasional ewe to suckle her offspring.

Rhys glanced around the table, knowing that what he
was about to say would probably destroy or at least alter all the plans the young people had made. But it was no use putting off the evil hour. The sooner the problem was sorted out the better for everyone.

Haltingly at first, but then with more confidence, Rhys outlined what the surgeon had told him: that he would be very ill advised to face even one more harsh winter in Snowdonia. From the silence which followed this remark, and from the lack of surprise on the faces surrounding him, Rhys imagined that everyone had already guessed as much, so now he pointed at Chris.

‘You’ve always known that Cefn Farm would be yours one day, when I drop off my perch,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I might easily have stuck my spoon in the wall when the tractor rolled on me. So you see, though it is coming earlier than any of us expected, you must decide whether you can manage Cefn Farm without us and how each of you feels regarding the responsibility and so on.’ He smiled across the room at Rhodri, standing behind Nonny’s chair, with one hand on her shoulder. ‘You have problems of your own, Rhodri, as well I know. For many years we relied on your father and mother to point out our mistakes, and tell us how to remedy them. Since then, of course, Chris and Nonny have turned to me for the same sort of advice, but that won’t be possible when Molly and I are in Australia. But you’ll still be here, Rhodri – or at least I hope you will – and you are very much more experienced than my children could possibly be. Would you be willing to help them as your father helped Molly and me?’

Rhys was looking at Rhodri as he spoke and saw the young man’s hand tighten on Nonny’s shoulder, saw his
daughter look up into Rhodri’s serious face and give him a tiny smile. Why on earth don’t those two make a match of it, Rhys found himself thinking; there’s a light in Rhodri’s eyes which speaks volumes. But it’s not my affair, of course. The young man nodded. ‘Help I will whenever help is needed,’ he said briefly. ‘Go on, Rhys.’

‘In a month or two you’ll tackle the shearing and the dipping. Then you’ll know what the wool clip will be worth this year. Not that that will be your main source of income; it’s the sale of the yearling lambs which will tell you how large or small your profit.’ He looked around the circle of faces, until his eyes fixed on Chris. ‘Can you cope without me and your mother, once Rhodri has gone back to Cae Hic?’

Chris grinned at his father, his eyes sparkling. ‘I think you’d better hear about our plans, Dad, before we go any further,’ he said. ‘We had already realised that even if you did come back to Cefn Farm it would have to be in an advisory capacity, perhaps for many years. We knew Mum would do her best, knew also that you would need nursing, so we had a conference of our own – me, Rhodri, Nonny and Lana – and we’ve decided that our best bet is to combine the two farms, which means the two flocks and the two acreages as well. We had planned to keep the yearling lambs this year to increase the size of the flock again, and Rhodri meant to do the same, but after a lot of discussion and argument we decided it wasn’t practical yet. We need the money and at present we don’t need the extra work. But with Rhodri, Nonny, Lana and myself, to say nothing of Jacob and Nat, we should be able to manage pretty well.’

‘And I’ll come over with Mr Taplow at weekends,’
Ellen said eagerly. ‘Anything you want bought which isn’t available in the village, Bob and I can get for you and bring over when we come.’ She turned to Molly with a half-ashamed smile. ‘You may think I’m not much use, dear Molly, but I can cook, clean and generally make and mend, whilst Bob can do most things around the farmyard. And we wouldn’t dream of asking for money because we’d enjoy it, honest to God we would.’

Molly found herself feeling suddenly of little account, a sensation she did not like at all. Fortunately, however, she realised that this was plain old-fashioned jealousy and swallowed the ungrateful retort which had hovered on her lips.

‘It’s very good of you and Mr Taplow, Ellen,’ she said rather stiffly. ‘But surely Lana should return to Liverpool? She could soon get another good job, and continue with her social life.’ She turned to Lana. ‘Don’t think I’m ungrateful, dear, but I can’t see you exchanging your gay life for a muddy farmyard, animals which scare you and the odd trip into the village in the pony cart.’

She would have said more, but Chris broke in, ‘No, Mum, you’ve got it all wrong. It’s been five months since Dad’s accident and Lana has thrown herself into the breach like a good ’un. She can milk, tack up the horses, help the ewes to give birth, and do just about everything our Nonny does, besides all the housework.’ He had been sitting next to Lana and now he leaned over and pinched her cheek. ‘She’s a real little treasure, Mum, don’t you think different. In fact, she and I have talked about getting hitched one of these days.’

Molly stared. She had dreaded this moment, but she had known when Mr Callahan had talked of Australia
that she would have to tell all before she left. She cleared her throat and began to speak, addressing Ellen because she suddenly realised she could not bear to see the look of heartbreak on Chris’s and Lana’s faces.

‘We’ve always laughed together, haven’t we, Ellen, over the fact that our babies were born pretty well at the same moment at the height of a thunderstorm, when all the lights had fused and the hospital was in a state of flux. Well, something happened that night which I never told a soul, but I have to tell you now.’

A rich tide of crimson invaded Ellen’s face, and she gave a guilty giggle and pressed her hands to her hot cheeks.

‘Oh, Molly, I know what you’re going to say,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid I took advantage of the power cut to sneak out of the ward and go along to the nursery. You see, I’d hardly held my baby for two minutes before that. The nurse had snatched her out of my arms and the porter had taken me off to the ward. I felt cheated, as though my little Lana was more theirs than mine, so when everything was quiet – it was still dark, but the lightning lit up the whole hospital every few minutes – I put on those horrible hospital slippers and shuffled along to the nursery. There were only two brand new babies still wrapped in their little hospital gowns; all the rest were very smart in clothes that their mothers had brought.’

‘Not the gypsy baby,’ Molly said in a hollow voice. ‘Wasn’t she still in a hospital gown?’

‘Well, yes,’ Ellen admitted. ‘And she wasn’t a girl she was a boy.’ She stared reproachfully across at her friend. ‘I know you know what I done, and I know I done wrong, but let me finish. I was standin’ by the cot holdin’ my
dear little girl when I heard the baby in the next cot start to whimper. It were Nonny, of course, though I didn’t know that at the time. I couldn’t bear that she should cry – frightened of the storm, no doubt – so I huddled Lana up in her blanket and picked up little Nonny. I kissed her neck and rocked her in my arms until she slept again, and then I replaced her in her cot and snuck out of the nursery.’ She grinned at Molly. ‘That was it, weren’t it? But how did you know?’ Before Molly had a chance to reply that she had not known Ellen gave a gasp. ‘I know!’ she exclaimed. ‘Your baby’s bootee fell off and when I put it back I had to tie the ribbon ’cos it had come undone. I’s cack-handed, always have been, so I couldn’t make a proper bow. I suppose you guessed someone had been meddlin’ and knew it must be me, ’cos ours were the only two babies in the cots near the door where the nurse must have put them for ease.’ She looked guiltily across at her friend. ‘I know I shouldn’t have touched someone else’s baby . . . do you forgive me? I reckon it’s the reason I love Nonny so much.’

‘Of course I forgive you,’ Molly said, her voice small. ‘Oh, Ellen, you don’t know how you’ve relieved my mind! Do you remember Flossy, the ward maid? She told me the next day that she had seen someone in the nursery picking up two of the babies and in my heart I’ve always wondered whether there had been a muddle . . . but I couldn’t imagine why anyone would do such a thing, so really it was just a mystery. And now you’ve solved it; what an idiot I was to worry!’ Molly had been sitting beside Rhys in one of the fireside chairs, but now she jumped to her feet and bent down to give Lana a warm hug. ‘My darling girl, I’m absolutely delighted that you
are going to be a proper part of our family,’ she said warmly. ‘I do hope you and Chris will get married before we leave for Australia!’

As soon as he could, Chris sought Lana out. She was in the cowshed, and the moment Chris appeared she dropped her shovel and flew into his arms, planting an exuberant kiss on his cheek. ‘You were right and I was wrong,’ she said jubilantly. ‘I’ve always thought Auntie Molly didn’t like me and would fight tooth and claw to stop us marrying, but you said it would be okay and how right you were. Oh, Chris, I’m so happy!’

Chris returned the hug and dropped a kiss on the top of her head before replying. ‘And can you guess, my pretty little pea goose, just why my dear mama has so blatantly tried to keep us apart?’

Lana’s eyes rounded. ‘Then I
was
right,’ she breathed, ‘but I still don’t understand. Are you saying it had something to do with the business of the babies? If so, I still don’t get it.’