Beggars and Choosers (41 page)

‘You're insane.'

He looked to the stove. ‘Nothing needs doing here for five minutes, does it?'

‘No, but you know it's never five minutes and how would we explain –'

‘I went upstairs to get a book and you were making the beds.'

‘They know I make the beds first thing in the morning.' Despite her protest he had already lifted her out of the chair.

He offered her his hand and she took it. Lloyd had taught her many things since the night they had first made love, principally that she couldn't deny him anything he asked of her and she didn't possess the willpower to fight her own need for him, physically or emotionally.

Less than a minute after entering Lloyd's bedroom and locking the door they were making hasty but nonetheless satisfying love. They had both become adept at making the most of their snatched moments, and not even the presence of his brothers in the house could diminish their hunger for one another.

If anything, their lovemaking had become more urgent and more passionate as time passed. It was as though every encounter fuelled the obsession they had for one another. And they had begun to run risks that both of them would have considered insane only a few months before.

Sali only had to think of Lloyd during the day to crave his presence with a longing that drove every other consideration from her mind. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate on housework, she increasingly found herself daydreaming about him, sometimes for minutes, sometimes for an hour or more. She only had to walk into his bedroom or touch his clothes, to start imagining what they would do to one another the next time they were alone. She had begun to wonder if she were going mad, until he confessed that he was finding it just as difficult to keep his mind on his work in the pit.

‘I love you.' He kissed her, before gripping the French letter he had used and withdrawing from her.

‘Not as much as I love you,' she whispered.

‘You might find yourself with an argument there, sweetheart.' He went to the washstand.

‘That's the basement door opening in the kitchen.' She leapt from the bed and picked up her drawers.

‘You go down first. I'll say I was looking for a book.'

She ran into her bedroom, hurriedly washed, slipped on her underclothes, changed her apron for an overall and carried her apron down the stairs.

Joey and Victor were sitting at the table, glasses of milk in front of them.

‘My apron was dirty,' she lied, pushing the blameless garment deep into the basket she kept for the household linen, and ‘upstairs' washing.

‘Is it pie?'

‘Is what pie?' Sali stared blankly at Victor.

‘Are we having one of your fantastic meat and potato pies tonight, Sali?' Joey elaborated.

‘Are you feeling all right?' Victor questioned, perturbed by her vacant expression. ‘You look flushed. You're not coming down with something, are you?'

‘It's the shock of tipping hot water over my apron.' As colour flooded into her cheeks, she turned to the stove and lifted the lid on the vegetable pan.

‘So are we?' Joey refilled his and Victor's glasses from the pitcher he'd carried out of the pantry.

‘Are we what?'

‘Having pie,' Joey repeated impatiently.

‘Yes ... yes,' she stammered.

‘Beef pie, cabbage, mashed potatoes, gravy,' Victor sniffed the air theatrically, ‘apple fritters and custard.'

‘Apple turnovers and custard,' she corrected absently.

‘Almost right.' Victor grinned at Joey.

‘Where's Lloyd?' Joey looked around the room as if he expected him to pop up from behind the furniture.

‘I think he went out,' she said quickly.

‘He's been a bit odd lately,' Joey mused. ‘That's the back door. One of us had better go down and wash Dad's back.'

‘I'll go.' Victor left his chair. ‘I want to bring the dogs into the basement after he's finished bathing. There's a leak in the kennel roof that I've been meaning to fix, and it's soaking inside. They'll catch their death if I leave them out there in this downpour.' He glanced across to where Sali was stirring the gravy. ‘You don't mind do you, Sali? I'll put down newspaper and clear up any mess they make before I put them back in the run in the morning.'

‘Pardon?' She stared uncomprehendingly at him.

‘Can I bring the dogs into the basement for the night?'

‘Yes.'

‘Victor's thinking of skinning and jointing them so we can have them for dinner tomorrow,' Joey said, after Victor closed the door.

‘He what?'

‘Sali, what on earth has got into you?' Joey complained when Lloyd walked in with a pile of books.

‘Sorry, I'm a bit preoccupied. Megan came around earlier and suggested that I should send Harry to school after the summer holidays.'

‘That's a great idea. It will be good for Harry and it will give you more free time to run classes in the library.' Lloyd set the books down on the window sill.

‘What?'

‘Everyone says you're the best teacher we have.'

‘That's rubbish and you know it.'

‘I don't know anything of the kind. The union has been talking about setting up morning and afternoon classes for the afternoon and night shift workers and their wives for some time. You should be teaching more than basic literacy. Geography, literature, history, music ... What's the matter?' he asked, when she didn't appear to be overly enthusiastic. ‘Don't you think people who are desperate to learn but never had the chance to follow a formal education should have an opportunity to better themselves?'

‘Of course, but –'

‘You obviously love teaching.'

‘I keep telling you I'm not qualified.'

‘Your pupils don't care. If you go to the library when Harry's in school you can start a morning literacy class for miners on night shift and any of their wives who can spare the time, and from there you can –'

‘You are quite mad.' He was so carried away she had to shout to make herself heard. ‘One, I am not qualified and two, Harry is not going to school after the summer holidays. He's not even three and a half.'

‘He will be by September and it will do him the world of good to get away from your apron strings and play with boys of his own age.'

‘You make it sound as if I mollycoddle him.'

‘You do.' Lloyd joined Joey at the table.

‘I most certainly do not.' Her voice rose precariously. ‘He's out now –'

‘At a tea party in Megan's.'

‘He's with other children, isn't he?'

‘Why won't you admit that you keep him too close? He needs to learn to be independent. And if you don't mind me saying so, you wouldn't come to any harm if you made a few more friends.'

‘Now I'm friendless!'

‘I never said that.' He beamed at her. He had actually provoked her into a real argument. He loved her with all his heart, mind and soul, but his love hadn't blinded him to the fact that she had been so badly scarred by Owen Bull that she had lost confidence in her own opinions as well as her ability to express them. And now she was actually screaming at him. The girl who had been terrified by their family spats was actually quarrelling with him, and it felt wonderful.

‘And I suppose you think that Harry should pack his bags and leave home next week,' she retorted, irritated by his smug smile.

‘Now you are being ridiculous as well as hysterical.'

His calm only succeeded in infuriating her all the more. ‘I am not hysterical or ridiculous,' she yelled. ‘Harry is my son and I will decide what's best for him.'

Mr Evans opened the door and walked in with Victor. He looked from Sali to Lloyd. ‘What on earth is all the shouting about?'

‘Lloyd and Sali were arguing about whether Harry should go to school after the summer holidays so Sali can teach classes in the library during the day as well as the evening,' Joey revealed.

Mr Evans took his place at the table. ‘The meeting didn't take as long as I expected, Sali, but there's no rush with the meal. Take all the time you want.'

‘It's ready, Mr Evans.' Glad of something to do, she opened the oven door, lifted out the pie and set it on the table. Keeping her eyes averted from the men, she strained the vegetables, mashed the potatoes, poured the gravy into a jug and took her seat beside Lloyd.

‘How did the meeting go?' Joey asked, in an effort to fill the silence.

‘Much as I expected. We are going back to management with our original offer of a five per cent cut.'

‘Which they've twice rejected,' Victor reminded, taking Sali's plate from his father and handing it down to her.

‘They say three tries for a Welshman.' His father handed him Joey's plate.

‘Why?' Joey asked.

‘Because the first two bridges William Edwards built over the Taff at Pontypridd washed away.'

‘The third one's standing?' Joey enquired.

‘It was the last time I was there. This pie looks even better than usual, Sali.'

‘Thank you, Mr Evans.' She was having difficulty in believing what she had just done, not just quarrelling with Lloyd, but shouting and arguing with him in front of his father and brothers. She poked the food around her plate, wishing everyone would hurry up and finish the meal so she could use the excuse of fetching Harry from next door to get out of the house.

‘You going out tonight?' Mr Evans asked Victor, noting that he was wearing the navy pinstriped three-piece suit complete with watch and chain that he normally reserved for church.

‘I'm taking Megan to the half past six performance at the New Empire Theatre. Harry Freeman and Jennie Dauntley are there this week.'

‘You two are only interested in the comedian and the singer?' Joey asked scornfully.

‘Who else should we be interested in?' Victor enquired.

‘The chorus girls. There's supposed to be a couple of real crackers among them. I'll walk down with you if you like.' Joey made a face at the disapproving expression on Victor's face. ‘It's all right, I prefer to sit in the fourpenny pit to the sixpenny circle with the courting couples.'

‘Do you mind if I leave the dishes until after I've fetched Harry from next door, Mr Evans?' Sali asked, after Joey split the last of the turnovers between himself and Victor.

‘You run this house in your own time, as you see fit, Sali,' he said easily, leaving the table and sitting in his chair next to the fire.

‘We could have a quick one in the White Hart before the show,' Joey suggested to Victor. ‘Megan is going to take at least an hour to clear up after the party and get the children ready for bed,' he added persuasively.

‘You buying?' Victor asked.

‘The first round.' Joey handed Sali his bowl and left the table.

‘I thought you said a quick
one,
Joey,' his father said.

‘So I did.' Joey flashed one of his charming smiles. ‘See you all later.'

Lloyd carried his teacup from the table to the sink after Victor, Joey and Sali left. He looked at the pile of dishes, filled a bucket with cold water and set it on the stove to boil.

‘Why don't you sit down and give yourself time to digest your meal?' his father said quietly.

‘I intend to until the water boils.'

‘Sit in your mother's chair,' Billy said, as Lloyd pulled a chair out from under the table.

‘Are you sure?'

‘She would have hated the thought of us venerating her things as if they were museum pieces.'

‘Yes, she would have,' Lloyd agreed shortly.

His father folded the week-old copy of the
Rhondda Leader
that he'd been reading and looked across at him. ‘How long do you and Sali think you can keep this up?'

‘What?' Lloyd didn't even know why he was asking the question. It was obvious from the way his father was eyeing him that he knew.

‘That argument earlier. You were at it hammer and tongs like an old married couple. And the one thing she is right about, is that Harry is her son, not yours. Or would you like to make him yours?'

‘I'm fond of the boy.'

‘We all are. But much as you're fond of the boy, I'd say you're even fonder of the mother.' Billy pulled his tobacco pouch from his pocket and began to leisurely pack his pipe. ‘And in case you didn't know, the floorboards creak between your room and hers.'

‘I'd marry her if I could.' Lloyd realised further denial was pointless.

‘Would she marry you?'

‘If she were free.' Lloyd removed a packet of cigarettes from his jacket, shook one out and placed it in his mouth. ‘I suggested she change her name by deed poll, we disappear up to Cardiff in our best clothes, return and announce that we were married there.'

‘She wouldn't go along with it?'

Lloyd struck a match, lit his cigarette and shook his head. ‘As you and I are the only people in Tonypandy who know that her husband isn't dead, I thought it was a good idea.'

‘We're not the only people in Tonypandy who know she isn't a widow. Connie does, and from what I saw at Christmas, she doesn't appear to be all that enamoured with you, or Sali.'

‘You knew about me and Connie?'

‘Come on, Lloyd. How green did you think your mother and I were? All those evenings you spent down there doing her accounts. Connie has one shop. Granted, it's a good one with a brisk trade, but it's hardly a Cardiff department store. Your mother was worried for you. I told her that considering the age difference between you and Connie it was bound to run its course some day. Mind you, I didn't think it would take quite so long.'

‘Does anyone else know? Victor –'

‘Victor is so wrapped up in Megan, his dogs, horses, garden and rabbiting he doesn't see anything unless it's directly under his nose and sometimes not even then. As for Joey, he's too busy chasing his own women to concern himself with yours. In my opinion they haven't a clue about what went on between you and Connie, but have another argument like the one you just had with Sali, and they'll soon find out about you and her.'