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Occasionally Maudie would propose going with him. She never heckled. On getting to the school, she would clean the blackboard very thoroughly in case he wanted to write on it – he never did – and then watch everyone coming in. When he started to talk she would look at him encouragingly, her mouth slightly open over her slightly protruding front teeth. Tom always enjoyed evenings when she was free to come with him, loved the way she kept her eyes on him, almost without blinking. He suspected that she might be a little in love with him, but he was sure it would do her no harm. It seemed she already had another follower, a very respectable school teacher from Llanfair, so Lottie had told Lowri.

One evening when Josi and he were driving home together, Josi told his son that though, in his opinion, Tom would come last in the election, the Labour party would not let go of him. ‘You speak well, even though you’re too serious with precious little entertainment value. They’ll invite you to take part in the county council election next and I don’t think you should.’

‘Why not, if I’m doing some good?’

‘May doesn’t like it, she’s afraid of your father-in-law getting to hear of it. Of course I don’t care about him, but I do care for May’s feelings and I’d hate to see a rift opening between you.’

‘Well I suppose you know about rifts between people.’

‘Yes, I suppose I deserved that, I did let your mother down in the end, but all the same I gave up a lot when I first got married. And that’s the time that two people need each other most.’

Tom realised that his father had something important he wanted to say.

‘You don’t think May is happy?’ he asked.

‘I’m not saying that,’ was the swift response, ‘but I think she could be happier. I’ve seen her getting to look older in these last weeks and that’s always a sign of… well, it’s a sign you need to take note of, I suppose. That’s all I’m saying, lad. She is after all a devoted wife.’

Tom talked to May about the possibility of his taking part again for the county council and she assured him that she was quite happy about it. Yes, she knew that her father would be hurt, but then again she was fairly sure that he would never get to hear of it.

The war came to an end in November of that year and there were great celebrations everywhere, bonfires lit and a great many speeches about ‘the war to end wars’. Tom thought it inconceivable that there should ever be another war; he was convinced that such a thing would be the end of civilisation. ‘The numbers of casualties in this war were frightening, any other war would destroy any hope of recovery,’ he said.

Mari Elen was dressed up as Britannia in the fancy dress parade and got first prize for the under fives. She got a new half crown in a lovely red satin purse; she pinned it up in her bedroom and swore she would keep it for ever.

At the beginning of the new year, soldiers began to return from the Front, heroes who had no jobs and no hope of any. Nineteen nineteen was a hard year, with flu, as ferocious as the medieval plague, killing millions of people around the world, more even than had been killed in the war.

When they had been married a year, May was more certain than ever that she was barren and started to become really miserable. For her, nothing would ever make up for the fact that she and Tom were childless, she couldn’t seem to think of anything else.

‘It may be all my fault,’ Tom told her. ‘How do I know what effect the loss of my leg and all my war experiences have had? I’ll go to speak to a specialist about it. Graham will put me in touch with the right man.’

‘What I’d like you to do is ask Maudie whether we can adopt Ianto. If she’s going to get married in the spring, she’ll soon have another child. He’s so adorable and he’s so happy with us.’

‘I didn’t know Maudie was getting married in April. Is she marrying that school teacher after all?’

‘I think so. Lottie is full of it. She’s going to Carmarthen with her to buy a wedding dress. I’d buy her ten wedding dresses if she agreed to let us adopt little Ianto.’

‘You’re ready to buy a baby then? Well, I’m not. I’m not convinced we can’t have a baby of our own. I’ll have to speak to Graham to see what he thinks.’

That night, husband and wife were both very unhappy going to bed. May had really begun to believe that they’d be able to adopt little Ianto and couldn’t understand how Tom could oppose her. Tom himself was going through a great crisis. He was racked by his conscience. He’d been unforgiving to his father when, after twenty-three years of marriage, he’d left his mother for Miriam. Now he realised that, after barely a year of marriage, he was sinning in his heart. The idea of lovely Maudie leaving them to get married, even to a decent sort of chap, was more than he could bear. He loved to watch her with her son, loved to watch her washing, baking, carrying trays. He drew little sketches of her and tried to tell himself that all he was was an artist admiring a beautiful woman. He couldn’t bear to confess even to himself that he was in love with her, but in his heart he knew he was.

Oh, yes, he loved May too. She was a fine, proud woman, an admirable wife and one day would be an admirable mother. He had to let Maudie leave Hendre Ddu to get married and gradually he had to try to forget her. He certainly wasn’t going to agree to the idea of adopting Ianto though, he couldn’t deprive the little lad of his rightful mother who was so… who was so beautiful. He bit his arm to try to prevent himself groaning. He’d go out to Arwel woods tomorrow and howl his protests where no one could hear him. He wanted to howl at the thought that she couldn’t be his. She couldn’t be his. It was the first time he had known what real love was. Not the friendly, brotherly love he felt for May. Why hadn’t he realised that what he felt for May was a warm brotherly love, a love as he felt for Catrin? As he had felt for Edward? He had been too inexperienced. He had mistaken mutual loving-kindness for love. Poor Edward had married Rose to save her from a prison sentence when she was a suffragette and he and Catrin had suffered for it. But he himself had had no motive except gratitude that May had written to him faithfully and loyally and had seemed to like him and his family. Nowadays, even making love seemed to have become a duty which was everything to do with a baby’s conception and very little to do with urgent physical love. He bit his arm again as he thought… but he wouldn’t think. Maud would be leaving Hendre Ddu and he would try his hardest to stop thinking about her. He mustn’t think about her, about her sweetness, about her smile which was far too intimate. On the one or two occasions she had come with him when he was addressing a meeting, she’d sat at the front looking at him steadily, so ready to smile when he made some feeble remark. She had the most remarkable eyes, they were pale as water and luminous as sea water with the sun on it. Did she know how he felt? When he offered her his hand to help her get out of the motor car, touching her seemed to set off an electric charge through his body. The touch of her. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. About her intelligence, how she would read every book and pamphlet he advised, probably having to read with a candle when she was in bed. He felt giddy at the thought of her lying in bed, her long hazel-coloured hair over her shoulder, her very possibly naked shoulder. He sighed and almost groaned again. He was in a bad way.

And she would marry that school teacher called Harry Hughes who was quite good looking, she said, with chestnut-coloured hair and freckles. And flat feet. It was his flat feet that had kept him from the army. Men with flat feet couldn’t march so they had to stay home. Lucky old Harry Hughes, twice lucky old Harry Hughes, to be home and to have his Maudie to love. Stop, stop, oh stop. He was a married man, it was the only the second year of his marriage when love should be powerful and lusty. The word lust made him want to curl up and cry out. May was at his side making small sleep noises from time to time. How could she sleep when he was in torment? Oh, thank God she would never know, never guess what he was going through for Maudie. Even her name was a torment. He felt ashamed of himself, of course he did, and ashamed again for having been so unforgiving towards his father, glad at that time, or at least not exactly sorry, to have had the chance of separating him from his mistress.

The sun was already rising before Tom was able to sleep.

Chapter fifteen

Maudie’s mother, Lorna Williams, arrived at the farm early one morning the following week and was shown into the breakfast room. She was a large, handsome woman but she’d obviously been walking too fast so that it was some time before she managed to speak. When she did, it all came out in one breath as though she’d been rehearsing what to say. ‘Mister Tom and Mrs Evans, Maudie’s great-aunt, that’s my husband’s auntie, nearly eighty-three she is, has been taken ill with no one to look after her and do the nursing… and Maudie wonders whether she can be spared.’

‘Sit down a minute,’ Tom said, ‘or you’ll be needing someone to look after you. Well, of course she can go,’ he continued in a moment or two, ‘if there’s no one else, how can we refuse? But however will she get there? Where does this auntie live? I’m pretty sure it’s not around here.’

There was a slight hesitation during which Mrs Williams looked away in some embarrassment. ‘Well, Maudie’s already gone as a matter of fact, Mister Tom, she knew you wouldn’t object. You see, she managed to get a lift from Dai Griff the haulier when she had the afternoon off yesterday. You see, he had a job in the next village and could take her with very little trouble.’

‘And have you any idea how long she’s likely to be away?’

‘Oh, there’s no knowing, Mister Tom. As long as it takes, I suppose. She was sure you’d understand.’

‘Of course we understand. But what about her marriage plans? Isn’t she getting married in a week or two? That’s what we’ve all been told.’

‘The wedding is off, Mister Tom.’

‘Off? Who called it off? I thought he was a decent sort of chap. He surely hasn’t reneged on his promise?’

‘He’s decent enough and doesn’t understand what’s happened. None of us do. Who can understand the workings of a young girl’s mind? No, it’s off and that’s all she’ll tell us. “Leave the girl alone,” my husband says whenever I try to question her. If you ask me she was glad of the excuse to get away to the old lady.’

‘And where’s Ianto?’ May asked, speaking for the first time.

‘Oh, he’s staying with us. No use taking a baby to a house of sickness.’

‘Send him over to keep me company if he’s in your way.’

‘I will, Mrs Evans. He loves being with you and the boss.’

Tom made an excuse to leave the breakfast table. He felt light headed, so happy he could hardly keep still. He hadn’t ridden a horse since returning from France, but he went to the stable and saddled Bessie, a placid old mare he’d scorned to ride when he was fit and young. He sat on her broad back and let her walk on at her own pace. She wasn’t getting married, his heart sang out. She’s been offered marriage by a decent, sought-after bachelor, but for some reason she’d turned it down. And he knew the reason. He should be ashamed of feeling so happy, but he couldn’t help it. She was his and she knew it. They would have to meet and he would have to question her, though he knew her reasons. Her mother had probably guessed the reason too, she had looked strangely at him that morning, often addressing her remarks to May rather than to him.

He was up on the main road and passing the chapel before the truth of the situation broke in on him. She wasn’t going to be married to Harry Hughes but that wouldn’t make it any easier because he was married and intended to remain as true to his wife as he possibly could. He could look at her, that was all, and she could return the yearning look but that’s as far as it could go. She must not give up a decent marriage for so little. Did she realise how little he could give her, he who wanted to give her everything? He had to see her, had to explain to her that though he was in love with her, yes, yes, he was in love with her, he’d admit that much, but in spite of it, they weren’t destined to be together but alone and apart for ever. Wouldn’t it be better for both of them if she was married and no longer living in Hendre Ddu, no longer seeing each other every day, almost every hour of every day? He had to go to see her. Where did her auntie live? What excuse could he make for going to see her? He could hear his heart thumping in his chest.

He rode slowly along the road past her house. Her mother was out in the orchard by this time, pegging her washing on the line. How could he make conversation? How could he start? ‘The rain’s keeping off so far,’ he said, ‘but remember it’s still April. There’ll be showers before lunch time.’

‘Yes indeed the sky’s looking quite overcast, but we’ve got no room to dry anything indoors.’

‘Where did you say Maudie’s great-aunt lives?’

‘In Brynyddol. It’s only about twelve miles away but there are no trains in that direction, so she might as well be in London.’

‘Well, if you ever need to go to see her you’ve only got to ask me, and my motor car will be at your service.’

‘Well, thank you very much, Mister Tom. I know my husband would be very eager to go to his auntie’s funeral if that becomes necessary. She was very good to him when he was a boy and his mother a widow, she pretty well brought him up, I think. Quite a well-known local character she is, Annie Vaughan. Widow to a very respectable seafaring man. Anyone would tell you where she lives.’

Tom felt himself reddening. Maudie’s mother seemed to know how things were between him and Maudie without needing to be told. He pulled himself together. There was nothing between himself and Maudie. ‘ Well, I must be on my way,’ he said severely.