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‘I can understand what you’re saying, Tom. But I do hope there’ll be no revolution in England. Think of all the bloodshed and mindless killing in France in the eighteenth century.’

‘Yes. But there was never quite as much inequality afterwards. It prevented the rich becoming ever richer and the poor being left to starve. The conditions in France before the revolution were indescribably vile. Anyway, all I’m ever likely to do is talk. I’m very unlikely to take part in any earth-shattering events. I’ve had enough of action for the remainder of my life. I couldn’t ever be a Marxist anyway; it’s too extreme and too idealistic. I mean, take the best of our chapel people, those who really believe in the Sermon on the Mount, are there any that really give all their money to the poor? Or even share it with the poor? As Christians, we know what to do but haven’t the will to do it and I think Marxism would be exactly the same. I think
the most resonant verse in the Bible is when God, having sent the great flood to punish the sinners in Noah’s time, sets the rainbow in the sky as a solemn promise that it would never happen again, having realised that “man is evil in his heart”. That’s a hard truth, but it needs to be accepted so that we don’t become too idealistic. All the same, there certainly needs to be something in between man’s highest ideals and the greed of our present institutions.’

‘We never know what we might be called upon to do. Some form of socialism certainly attracts me,’ Josi said. ‘But I don’t think we ought to carry on like this or May may well regret her decision to become engaged to you.’

‘No I won’t,’ May said. ‘I have great interest and absolute trust in your opinions, both of you.’

Josi was pleased to notice that May’s friendship with Lowri did not alter in any way after being informed of her humble origins.

Lowri’s aunt was soon running the house efficiently and smoothly.

Miss Rees was unable to be very civil to her despite being told that she was there in a temporary capacity. ‘No,’ she said sadly, ‘she’s my replacement. My days of running Hendre Ddu are over and though I may get a little better, I shall never again be as I was. I’ve known too many people with strokes, it’s a very popular illness in this part of
Wales. Yes, they may get better, but they never get well. Never mind, I’ve lived long enough to meet the new mistress of Hendre Ddu and if I’m very lucky I may live long enough to see the new heir.’

She wasn’t to have her wish. The very next morning when Lowri took her an early cup of tea, she found the old woman dead. It was possible that she had died in her sleep. But Lowri felt it was much more likely that she had been fully conscious, waiting for death to overtake her but choosing not to trouble anyone. The bell left with her was safely at her side, but she had obviously scorned to call for help. For a time, Catrin sat at her side, crying.
She was sure Tom would be equally affected. Nano was such an
important part of their lives, had been with them from the beginning.

Even though Dr Andrews had warned them of the possibility, they were all stunned by the news. Breakfast that morning was a very difficult meal, the time-honoured clichés were trotted out, even Josi being too upset to eat his usual three courses.

During the next few days though, everyone was busy preparing for the funeral which had to be magnificent to reflect the position Miss Rees had held in the family. Lowri’s aunt, Mrs Hopkins, seemed the most ardent that everything should be seen at its best and as she’d been hired to take over Miss Rees’ position, it pleased her vanity to make sure that everyone should see what an honour it was. Maud and Lottie were kept busy from morning to night polishing the oak staircase, the floor of the hall and dining room as well as the tables and sideboards, while she and Lowri took over the vast amount of cooking she thought necessary. ‘My little niece, Sali, is free at the moment,’ she told Tom. ‘May I give her a job for the duration of the funeral?’

‘By all means,’
Tom said. ‘I liked little Sali. She was such a frightened child when I left here after my mother’s funeral. Why did she leave?’

Mrs Hopkins had no idea, but Lowri and Catrin knew that she had offended Miss Rees in some way, though they hadn’t been given any details. Lowri, in particular, was uneasy that she was being brought back; she tried to love her young sister as she loved her older siblings, but knew her to be flighty and rather sly. She hadn’t managed to keep a place long after Miss Rees had dismissed her because other housekeepers knew that it wasn’t something Miss Rees did without good and sufficient reason.

May got up on the morning of the funeral and marvelled at Hendre Ddu’s beauty. The sun was shining in through huge elm trees around, leaving dappled shadows on the highly polished furniture, and fusing with the old Persian rugs. Looking out of the window, she thought the garden seemed newly polished too, each flower, each blade of grass bright with dew and sunshine.

‘You’ve made the place look really splendid Mrs Hopkins,’ she told the new housekeeper when she passed her after breakfast. ‘May I pick some of the cream roses to put in the hall and the dining room?’

‘Thank you, Miss Malcolm, I was hoping that someone would offer their services. I’m too impatient to be a good flower arranger.’

‘And I’m sure you have far too much to do this morning. I’ll just have time before we leave for chapel.’

Miss Rees’ death had added to Catrin’s sadness. ‘What’s the matter with me, Lowri?’ Catrin asked her friend. ‘I have everything to make me happy: my darling little longed-for baby and a good caring husband, and yet I feel as though my whole world is crumbling apart. Am I going mad, Lowri?’

‘No, cariad. If anything it’s because you married too soon after your terrible loss and sadness about Edward. I shall always remember how you loved him. I shall always remember the look you gave him on the day he left here, I recognised it as the sort of love that only the few know. Maybe if you confessed your feeling to Graham – he’s an under­standing man I think – he would be very sympathetic; and if you talked openly about it you’d feel much better very soon.’

‘But could I expect his sympathy? Won’t he think that I had no right to marry him when my heart was so bruised?’

‘I don’t think so. Be honest with him. He wanted you, had to have you, bruised or not. I’m sure that telling him how you feel is the best thing you can do. Come along now, cariad, we have to go.’

Graham was taking Tom, May, Catrin and Lowri in his motor car while Josi, Mari Elen and most of the farm servants had already started on their walk. Lowri wished that she and Catrin had time to walk to chapel, feeling that the arches of wild roses and honeysuckle in the hedges would weave their way into Catrin’s sore heart.

‘I wish you’d carry on with your painting, Catrin,’ she told her in the car.

‘You – and Tom – had such talent. I think I’ll get your paints out tomorrow and lock you into the office until you’ve painted me a picture. I’d love a painting of wild roses for my sitting room in Cefn Hebog. I’d like to show you Cefn Hebog, May. It’s been in Josi’s family since the seventeenth century. It’s not a bit grand like Hendre Ddu, well, the exact opposite perhaps, but I think you’d like it.’

‘I’m sure I would. When will you take me? I’d love a good long walk one afternoon.’

‘And it’s the best time of the year, isn’t it? May and June and early July?’

The little chapel was completely full by the time they arrived, so that many of the congregation had to remain outside. Still, the weather was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold. The minister told the congregation after the last hymn had been sung that everyone was welcome at Hendre Ddu following the service.

It was the singing that had impressed May. She knew that Welsh people were noted for their love of singing, but was still surprised that an ordinary, though very large, chapel congregation could, without rehearsal, sound so like a great, well-trained choir. Such grand laments, she wished she could understand the words but could only remember two or three words of the last haunting hymn, ‘Mor dawel yw’; she’d ask Tom to translate them for her as soon as they were alone. The whole hour and a half service was almost unbearably moving with Mari Elen’s occasional loud sobbing only adding to the emotion of the occasion.

Back at Hendre Ddu, the sadness seemed to have evaporated and everyone spoke of and joked about ‘the dear departed’ as though she was still with them. Rachel had had Miss Rees’ portrait painted on her fiftieth birthday and people raised their glasses to her likeness and spoke of her loyalty, her generosity and her abrupt dealings with anyone she thought had proved less than loyal to the family.

The food shortages of the third year of war were hardly felt in the bigger farms of West Wales and were certainly not allowed to impinge on the important occasions. The great joints of ham and beef, the pickles, the cold new potatoes and momentous fresh salads soon disappeared, along with the huge flagons of home-made cider and ginger beer.

The minister spoke: ‘In chapel I respectfully spoke of Miss Hannah Rees. But I wonder how many of you thought of her as Miss Hannah Rees? No, she was Nano, Hendre Ddu to everyone in the three parishes. She lost her name in the service of this family whom she loved and served so well. And in fact I don’t think she ever thought of herself as a servant but almost as the spirit of the house. She knew its history back to the seventeenth century and if you weren’t very, very careful she’d have taken you back four generations while she was making you a cup of tea. The Thomas Morgan who had carried out the restoration of the old farm house, the Walter Morgan who had planted the trees in Pen Gwaelod, the Griffydd Morgan who had drained Hendre Isa, the Thomas Morgan who had built the chapel at Garmon. Let us celebrate her love and service, her great heart.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Hopkins,’ Tom said after all the guests had finally departed. ‘Miss Rees would have been proud of the effort you’ve made.’

‘No she wouldn’t,’ Mrs Hopkins said. ‘She’d have been
furious with me for trying to match her hospitality. I can just hear her now, “And who does she think she is? That no-good upstart thinking she can take my place, fill my shoes?” To tell you the truth I’ve been feeling very uncomfortable all day.’

Tom smiled but didn’t argue with her. He realised that the new housekeeper knew Miss Rees almost as well as he did. ‘We must clear out her room very soon so that you can have it. I think she told Catrin who in the family was to have her particular treasures and she mentioned a first cousin in
Tregaron too, I believe. Lowri, do you remember her instructions? I don’t think we can bother Catrin at the moment.’

‘No. But I can help auntie see to it after we’ve got everything straight in the dining room and the parlwr.’

‘Dear Lowri, what would we do without you? All the same, I’m sure you’re longing to get back to the peace of Cefn Hebog.’

‘No, no, this is my place at the moment, I know that.’

It was the evening after the funeral and Graham had found time to visit his wife and baby. ‘I think Catrin’s a little better than she was,’ he told Tom. ‘She’s managing to feed the baby quite well now. She doesn’t say much but at least she doesn’t seem as restless and hopeless as she was. The mind is completely inexplicable, apparently, even to those who’ve spent a lifetime studying it. I’ve been reading articles about the treatment they’re now giving soldiers whose nerves have failed them.’

‘Is that so? From what I understood they were simply shot as deserters.’

‘Oh, come now, I suppose some escaped that fate. Perhaps they were wounded in action before their nervous attacks.’

‘Yes. Well, that’s what happened to me, I suppose. Believe me, no one will get out of those trenches in one piece. I lost a leg, but I don’t suppose I’ll ever be free of my memories. I don’t suppose any of us will.’

‘But isn’t there anyone you can talk to? I’m ready to listen, so is your father, I know.’

‘One day, it may be easier. At the moment, to talk is to re-live and I’m not ready for that.’

Neither of them had noticed that Lowri was back in the room. Worry about Catrin had made her bold. ‘You need to talk, too,’ she told Graham. ‘I think Catrin would be easier in her mind if you made her talk to you. And the only way she will is if you broached the subject and encouraged her.’

Both men looked at her with grave attention.

‘I find it very difficult to talk about feelings,’ Graham confessed. ‘All the same, I think perhaps you’re right, Lowri. Well, I’m sure of it. Of course Catrin realises that I know about her love for Edward, how could I help it when I saw how she suffered when she got the news of his death? All the same, I will make an effort to bring up the subject again, I really will. I’m determined to do everything I can to help her.’

The three of them sat without the energy to talk further. ‘We seem to have had so much happening to us in such a short space of time,’ Lowri said at last. ‘I’d like a few quiet weeks now, with nothing to disturb us but the gradual unfolding of the seasons.’

Josi came in from the milking seeming as tired as the others. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘Prosser asked me to tell you all that everyone he spoke to had appreciated the funeral dinner yesterday. But he wanted to remind me, very respectfully, that one thing had been overlooked. The young master’s mother – it took me a few moments to work out he meant Rachel – would have been distributing whatever change, the copper and the small silver Miss Rees had left behind her, between the children and the young people.’