Hearts of Gold (36 page)

‘What’s going to happen, Uncle Evan?’ he asked anxiously.

‘You heard the man speak, same as me,’ Evan replied with unintentional gruffness.

‘But I’ve Diana to consider. Uncle Huw says we may have to sell the house to pay Mam’s restitution costs as it is …’

Evan relented. ‘We’ll sort out something, boy. Don’t worry. They can’t let us all starve to death. Look I’ve got to go home, wash and have tea. I’ll come down and see you later. We’ll have a talk then.’

He would have liked to ask his nephew and niece to come up to his house for tea. But aside from Elizabeth’s upset over Megan’s disgrace and her vow that she wouldn’t let either of Megan’s children cross her doorstep again, there was the news he had to tell her. News that could stretch her strained nerves to breaking point. Afterwards he might well have good reason to want to leave the house for Leyshon Street.

He turned his back on William and carried on up the Graig hill with Alun walking close on his heels. As they rounded the vicarage corner they caught up with Viv Richards, Glan’s father.

‘Fine mess we’re in now, Evan,’ he commented acidly.

‘Aye.’

‘Well I’ll see myself and my whole family out on the road before I’ll go begging for help from anyone. That’s all can say about it.’

‘Let’s hope it won’t come to that, Viv,’ Evan watched Viv’s short stocky figure as he mounted the steps next door, then found himself measuring the distance between the pavement and the house. Imagining how the front would look covered with furniture when the bailiffs came. Shaking his head in an attempt to free himself from the image, he turned the key in his door and walked through to the kitchen.

Elizabeth was spooning drops of batter on to the hotplate of the stove. A small stack of pikelets piled on a plate on the warming shelf above her testified to her industry.

‘I’ve set up the bath out back,’ she greeted him brusquely.

‘Thank you, Elizabeth.’ Evan sat on the stoop between the washhouse and the kitchen and unlaced his boots. Alun stepped over him and walked out to the sink.

‘All the children out?’ Evan asked wanting to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupted for a while.

‘Haydn’s in that shop again, working for nothing as usual. Bethan’s upstairs. Anyone would think the girl’s going into a decline. She’s got work in another hour and a half, and if I’ve called her once I’ve called her a dozen times. Well, I’ll not call her again. It’s up to her to get herself to the hospital on time. And Maud and Eddie have gone over the mountain to look for blackberries. I told them there was no point in going. The season’s over. There’s only the small wormy ones left that the birds don’t want.’ She scooped up a pikelet and flicked it over. While it was cooking she stirred a pan of tripe and onions that was simmering in the oven.

Evan decided to take the bull by the horns. There wasn’t going to be a good time to tell Elizabeth the news he was carrying, and the sooner he began, the sooner it would be over with. He kicked off his boots, stood up, and closed the door behind him, shutting Alun into the washhouse.

‘You’re not going to give the lodger first bath are you?’ Elizabeth said in disgust. ‘And just look at those socks. You’re covering the floor with coal dust. You’re undoing all the work I’ve done today by just standing there …’

‘I’m on my way. It’s just that there’s something you should know, Elizabeth, and it can’t wait.’

‘What is it now?’ She flicked a cooked pikelet on to the pile and spooned another ladleful of batter on the hotplate. ‘More bad news about that sister-in-law of yours? Because if it is …’

‘It’s not about Megan. Manager made an announcement today. The pit’s closing at the end of next week.’

Naked fear and panic flashed over her face as she dropped the spoon she was holding on the hearthrug. ‘You’ll just have to find work in another colliery. You’ll have to go up the Albion or down Trehafod …’

‘There’s no point in going to any colliery. They’re all closing. The Maritime, the Albion …’

‘Fine! Just fine!’ she shouted furiously. ‘It’s no good talking like that. There has to be work somewhere. All you have to do is go and look for it. If you don’t –’ her hand flew to her mouth and she closed her teeth around her fingers in an effort to stop herself from crying. ‘We’re for the workhouse. Oh God –’ She sank to her knees and picked up the spoon. ‘My uncle always said it would come to this if I married you. The means test and the workhouse, and all you can say is there’s no point in looking for work.’

She began to sob. Bone weary, sick and terrified what the future might hold, Evan turned his back on her.

‘At least if it comes to the workhouse our Beth will be able to look after us.’ With that parting shot he unlatched the kitchen door and walked into the washhouse. Alun Jones had stripped down to his trousers and was waiting patiently to use the tub.

Evan tore off his shirt, knelt beside the bath and thrust his head under the warm water. He took the soap from its cracked saucer and rubbed it into a lather. Then he realised he’d left his towel and clean clothes on the airing rack above the range where Elizabeth kept them warming.

‘Do me a favour, Alun,’ he called out, his eyes closed against the soap. ‘Fetch me my towel and clothes from the kitchen.’

‘Aye.’

He heard Alun walk back and was half tempted to dress outside and go down to Leyshon Street through the back garden. He couldn’t face Elizabeth again. Not yet. He needed time to think things out first.

Bethan rose late, washed, dressed and walked downstairs into the doom laden atmosphere of the kitchen. She scarcely had time to sit down before her mother regaled her with the full story of her father’s redundancy. Evan himself didn’t say a word. He simply sat in his chair, pushing threads of tripe and onions around his plate. Bethan smiled at him, but he kept his head down and her smile was wasted. She would have liked to reach out and hug him, but her head was swimming and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to move without falling over.

Her senses were invariably numbed these days, drinking all day, working all night and general antipathy had taken a toll, and not only on her looks. She was constantly dizzy and nauseous. She had no appetite and even on occasions like now, when she sat at the table with her family and forced herself to eat, she rarely kept her food down for long.

Life had become one long, grinding chore. The studying that she’d made an effort to keep up with, even when she’d been going out with Andrew, had been abandoned. She’d become obsessed with finding strength enough to get her through her nights of work, so she could spend her days in the comfort and seclusion of her bed with a bottle tucked beneath the pillow. She carried one bottle in the bag she took to work in case she couldn’t quite make it through the night, but she was careful to hide a second behind her drawer in the dressing table.

Brandy had become a lifeline she could no longer live without. She bought plenty of cheap cologne in Woolworth’s and had taken to sprinkling it liberally over her clothes and into her washing water, even going so far as to rinse her mouth out in it when she left her bed at the end of the day, lest any of her family recognise the smell on her breath. And being in charge of the ward during the night had its compensations. If her behaviour seemed a little odd or erratic there was no superior to question it. And by directing others to complete tasks she was wary of doing herself in case she botched them, she managed – by the skin of her teeth sometimes – but she managed to keep her secret.

But there were times, like now when she was sitting with her family, when she felt she wasn’t actually living life. Merely watching it like a patient in a tuberculosis ward, forced to stand behind a glass window.

She tried to follow her father’s example and concentrated on eating the tripe and onions. She had only swallowed three mouthfuls when she began to retch. She left her chair clumsily and ran out, only just making it to the ty bach in time. She lay on the flagstoned floor next to the bench seat in a cold sweat, shaking from head to foot, hoping and praying that her mother wouldn’t allow any of the others to go after her.

The last thing she wanted was to try to explain the state she was in to Maud. Her luck held. After five minutes she could sit up. She leaned back against the wooden door, careful to avoid the whitewash on the walls that came off on any surface that brushed against it. A few moments later she was able to struggle to her feet.

Holding on to the wall she made it as far as the sink in the washhouse, where she washed her face in cold water and rubbed her teeth with her finger and salt from a block her mother kept next to the washing blue on a high shelf.

‘Are you all right?’ Elizabeth shouted irritably from the kitchen.

‘Fine, Mam,’ Bethan called back tremulously, slipping through the kitchen and heading upstairs.

‘We can’t have you coming down with anything. Not now when your father’s lost his job.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Elizabeth!’ Evan growled with uncharacteristic savagery. ‘I’ve another one and a half weeks to go.’

‘And afterwards?’ Elizabeth demanded, cold fury glittering in her eyes.

‘If you go on like this there won’t be an afterwards,’ he threatened. Pushing his chair back from the table he picked up his boots from the hearth and lurched towards the front door.

‘That’s right,’ Elizabeth taunted. ‘Run away from the problem just as you always do. Well this time you haven’t got your precious mother or sister-in-law to rush to …’

Bethan entered her bedroom and reached for the bottle in her bag. She put the whole of the neck in her mouth and drank deeply, pausing only when she heard the creak of the top stair. She pushed the bottle back into her bag, only just managing to stopper it as Maud entered the room.

‘Beth, what’s going to happen to us?’ she asked tearfully.

‘I don’t know.’ Bethan heard her voice slurring and realised she was drunker than she’d ever been in the house before. She sat down abruptly on the dressing table stool and fiddled with her veil. Fortunately Maud was too upset to pay much attention.

‘I went to see Miss Evans today with Diana,’ she began tentatively.

‘Miss who?’ Bethan tried and failed to focus on her sister.

‘Miss Evans. The deputy headmistress in Maesycoed Seniors.’

‘Don’t know her.’

‘Of course, I forgot you went to the Grammar School. Anyway in spite of all that police business she agreed to write out a reference for Diana. She’s applying for a job as a ward maid in Cardiff. They need girls to start in September. I’m sure if I asked her she’d write one out for me too. Do you think I should apply?’

‘It’ll be hard work in Cardiff Infirmary. And not all of it pleasant,’ Bethan warned, upset even in her drink-fuddled state at the thought of her sister working as a skivvy in that environment. Maud wasn’t strong. She still coughed occasionally and winter was coming. There had to be something better for her to do, if only they could think of it.

‘I don’t mind hard work, Beth. You know that I’ve been looking around and jobs aren’t that easy to come by. I’d rather be a maid in a hospital than in a house, and that’s all that seems to be on offer. Besides, Dad will be hard put to keep Mam and himself now he’s out of work and we can’t –’

‘Can’t what?’ Bethan interrupted.

‘Haydn says we can’t expect you to keep us for ever.’

‘Haydn should keep his mouth shut.’

‘I was thinking about doing this even before Mam told us about the Maritime closing, honest. You know what it’s been like between Mam and me since Diana and I were taken down the police station. I’d rather live away like you did. Of course I’d miss you, and Dad and the boys, but it’s not as if I’d be on my own. I’d have Diana,’ she said bravely.

Bethan looked hard at her sister. Even with the edges of her slight figure fuzzy, blurred by drink, she looked small, very young and very vulnerable. Bethan grew angry, not with Maud, but with the unfairness of a life where Maud’s only way out into the world was through skivvying in a hospital where they’d wring every last ounce of work from her. She wanted to kick someone and there was no one to kick. If she’d been alone she would have picked up the bottle again.

Maud reached out, and Bethan opened her arms.

‘I miss you already, Beth. It’s strange not having you here in the nights to talk to,’ Maud gave her a hug that took Bethan’s breath away.

‘If you’re going to be a ward maid you’ll have to get used to being by yourself.’

‘I suppose I will. You are all right, aren’t you?’ Maud looked at her sister.

‘Just tired, that’s all.’ Bethan extricated herself from Maud’s arms, lifted the bottle of cologne from the dressing table and splashed it liberally over herself, soaking the front of her uniform.

‘You’ve drenched yourself,’ Maud complained.

‘Bottle slipped in my hand,’ Bethan lied. She dragged herself to her feet, forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and stood up. Then she knew that she shouldn’t have drunk that last mouthful of brandy. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she mumbled thickly.

‘Can I walk down the hill with you?’ Maud pleaded. ‘I don’t want to stay in the house. Please?’

‘Come on then. As long as you’re quick.’ Bethan wanted to be alone, but she was in no state to argue with Maud. She staggered unsteadily down the stairs. Eddie was sitting on the bottom step lacing up his boots.

‘Off out?’ Maud asked.

‘Down to see Will and Diana. Anywhere’s got to be better than here.’ He jerked his head towards the kitchen door where Elizabeth was crashing the pots and pans as she cleared away the remnants of the meal.

Bethan lifted her cape from the hook at the back of the door and they set off together. She was glad when Maud decided to join Eddie in visiting their cousins. The fresh air was making her feel extremely peculiar and Eddie gave her some very odd looks before he and Maud left her at the foot of the lane that cut between Leyshon Street and Llantrisant Road. By the time she’d walked down the hill and was crossing the yard of the hospital she felt as though she were walking on rubber sheeting that had been stretched to its utmost. Her feet sank further and further down with every step she took. She had great difficulty in picking her legs up in order to place one foot in front of the other. No matter how much effort she put into it, she seemed to make very slow progress.