Rhiannon (4 page)

‘I don't know,' Ethel replied. ‘Mind you, if the number of people going up there's anything to go by, it's pretty serious. I'd be up there myself if I didn't have such a problem with my legs.' She flopped into a fireside chair.

Rhiannon began pacing the floor. ‘I feel so helpless. Mrs Lewis, if anything happened to either of them, I don't think I could bear it.'

‘I know what you mean, if ... Frank's only been working with your dad a week. With his dad not yet cold in his grave, surely God couldn't be so cruel to me?'

Rhiannon, seeing her neighbour struggle to fight back tears, reached out and gently touched her hand.

Ethel Lewis, after discreetly wiping her eyes with the hem of her apron, acknowledged Rhiannon's kindness with a nod of the head. ‘I'm all right, thanks. It's just ... I feel so useless.'

‘I know what you mean,' Rhiannon said, and, indicating to Mair she whispered, ‘I can't leave her.' Rhiannon instinctively knew it would be no place for Mair.

‘That's why I'm here. My Tom's looking after Martha next door. So, I thought, if I were to stay here with Mair, then you could go up there for the both of us.'

‘Oh no you don't,' Mair piped in. ‘If you're going then so am I!'

‘Mair, be reasonable. One of us has to stay here. Whatever would Dad think if he was to come home to an empty house?' Rhiannon knew her argument was strong, and it was partly true. She also knew it wouldn't do to tell Mair that she thought her too young to watch the injured, or worse, dead, men being brought up from pit bottom. It was only out of concern for her dad and Frank that she could face it herself.

‘All right, I'll stay put. But if you're not back soon I'm coming up.'

Rhiannon nodded; she was already grabbing for her shawl. ‘I'll go straight away and I promise, as soon as I've got some news, I'll be back.'

‘Now remember,' said Ethel, ‘there'll be a lot of activity up there. Try
not to get in anyone's way. You just watch and listen. There's bound to be a roll-call, that's how they tell who's... .' She bit her lip. ‘Whatever happens, you best come back before it gets dark. Your dad would never forgive me if anything happened to either of you girls.' Then she added, ‘don't you worry 'bout Mair and me. We'll keep each other company.'

Rhiannon raced to the pithead, her mind in turmoil, her heart in her mouth. At the gates a throng of people, men, women and children stood in silence, listening as a colliery official read from a list of names. Their mood was like the weather, dark and gloomy, with heavy clouds threatening thunder.

‘Selwyn Davies, Jack Dawkins, Robert Evans, Dai Hughes... .'

‘That's my dad! What does it mean? Does it mean he's safe?' she asked Dilys Morgan who was standing next to her.

‘No,
cariad
, I'm afraid it means that, like the rest, he's missing.'

‘Oh, no! Please God... .'

‘Shhhh!' someone in the crowd shouted. ‘We can't hear the names.'

And as the roll-call continued she heard him call: ‘Frank Lewis, Tom Morgan... .' Rhiannon put her hand over her mouth to suppress her sobs and control the urge to cry out again ... this time for Frank.

The names kept coming. Fifteen in all.

‘Come on, love. All's not lost. At least they haven't found any bodies. As we speak, the rescue party is underground searching for them. My brother, William, is one of them,' Dilys Morgan spoke proudly. ‘Our dad, Tom, is missing too. But I take comfort from knowing that the rescuers won't give up until every man is found ... dead or alive.'

As if on cue, a mighty flash of lightning lit the sky overhead, closely followed by a loud crack of thunder. Suddenly the heavens opened and the rain lashed down. Still no one moved.

Rhiannon wondered if, like her, they all believed that the change in the weather signified God's anger. She hoped so.

 

The rain had stopped and it was getting dark when Rhiannon entered the back lane that led to her house. She was greeted by a sea of faces. Almost every man, woman and child, all her neighbours, were discussing what might or might not have happened up at the pit. When they saw her approach everyone stopped talking, the children even stopped playing and made a pathway clear to her front door, where Ethel and Mair stood, eagerly waiting for her return.

As soon as Mair caught sight of Rhiannon she ran to her side and, breaking the eerie silence, cried ‘I thought you'd never get back. Tom Price has already told us that there are fifteen men missing and that Dad and Frank are among them. Have they found them yet?'

Rhiannon shook her head. She felt totally drained. It had been a long day.

‘But you must have heard something? You've been gone ages,' Mair moaned.

‘I'm so sorry.' Rhiannon fought back tears and pulled her wet shawl tight round her head. ‘I didn't want to come back until I had some positive news. But the colliery officials asked everyone not connected with the rescue to leave and let them get on with their job.'

Suddenly Rhiannon's legs resembled lead weights, every step was an effort. Thankfully, by now she'd reached the front door.

‘Thank God you're back.' She felt Ethel's arms around her. ‘I've been worried sick. I suppose, if there's no news about your dad, there'll be none about my Frank either?'

‘I'm sorry.' Rhiannon felt so utterly useless. First Mair and now Mrs Lewis both depending on her for news and she'd let them down. All she could say was ‘sorry'. How pathetic was that?

‘It's not your fault, child. Come on, let's get you inside, you look done in. I've made a big saucepan of
cow
l. A bowl of lamb stew and you'll feel brand new.' Rhiannon followed Mrs Lewis and the children into the kitchen.

‘I suppose half the valley were up at the pithead?' Ethel asked as she dished up the stew.

‘Oh, Mrs Lewis, it was awful. Mair, love, I'm so glad you didn't come. When I heard Dad's and then Frank's name on the roll-call it was the worst... .'

A loud knock on the door silenced her. Around the table you could almost hear their hearts beating in anticipation of bad news.

Ethel slowly opened the front door to find Sergeant Morris, the local bobby, standing on the doorstep.

‘Good news, Mrs Lewis. The rescuers have found your Frank safe and well—'

‘Thank God – thank God,' Ethel cried. ‘Rhi, Frank's safe!'

Rhiannon caught Ethel in her arms. ‘What a relief. See, there is a God.'

Then she looked to Sergeant Morris, ‘Any news of my dad?' she asked.

‘I'm sorry,
cariad
. Nothing as yet, but don't give up hope, the rescuers are still hard at it.'

‘Where have they taken my Frank? Is he injured? Can I see him?' Ethel asked frantically.

‘He's at the pithead, being given the once-over by Doctor Lewis. He's a bit battered and bruised and obviously in shock. As soon as the doctor gives him the all clear I'll escort him back home.'

‘I'd appreciate that, Sergeant Morris. I don't want to leave the children.'

‘One other thing; as I said, he's suffering from shock. If I were you I'd let him rest up a bit before asking too many questions about the accident.'

‘Don't worry. We'll just be glad to get him back home.'

At 9.30 that evening, with still no sign of Frank, Rhiannon and Mair decided to return home. Thankfully, now that he'd been found safe and well, they could see him tomorrow, the next day, the day after, and... .

 

‘Aren't you coming to bed, Rhi?' Mair asked, as Rhiannon tucked her in.

‘I'll not be long, I promise,' Rhiannon lied. Although genuinely euphoric that Frank was safe and well, she knew there was no way she could sleep while her dad was still missing.

Rhiannon glanced around the empty room. The room she'd previously thought of as warm, safe, homely, suddenly felt so cold and unwelcoming. Why had it taken her until now to realize that without the presence of her larger-than-life dad, it could never feel like home? How she wished she could throw her arms around him and tell him how much she loved him. Tears filled her eyes, she so wanted him – no,
needed
him to know how much he was truly loved. She vowed that the next time she saw him she'd do just that. Surely he'd be home soon? She'd decided to wait up, be there to welcome him when he walked through the door. And while she waited she'd sit in his armchair by the fireplace. On the chair she found her dad's old woollen jumper; she picked it up and snuggled it to her face, breathing in a mix of familiar smells: traces of firewood, coal, woodbines, camphor oil, and her dad's shaving soap. As she settled herself into the chair she wrapped the jumper round her shoulders and, closing her eyes, imagined it was her father cuddling her.

Rhiannon awoke with a start; it was morning and someone was knocking at the front door. She rubbed her eyes and instantly felt guilty. How could she have slept not knowing whether her father was alive or dead? What if the person at the door had come with bad news? What if... ? She stopped herself. Such thoughts just wouldn't do.

She opened the door. It was a fine day. Thank God there'd been no more rain; another storm might hamper the rescue.

‘Hello, Rhi. Any news 'bout your dad?' Jones the post asked.

Rhiannon shook her head. ‘No. Not yet. But we've heard that Frank's safe and well.'

Eric Jones had only recently left school. His parents ran the local grocery shop and post office. His father, John Jones, the post, had been delivering the mail for years, and had only stepped down to make way for his son, so that Eric was one of the lucky few who had a ready-made job waiting for him – there'd be no going down the pit for him.

‘That's good news. Don't worry. Your dad's a strong man, I'm sure he'll be fine ... anyway, this should cheer you up.' He handed her a blue-grey envelope. ‘It's a letter from Paris, France. No doubt it'll be from your Auntie Florrie. It must be grand having someone famous in the family, eh?'

His attempt at cheering her up was touching, so, taking the envelope she managed to force a smile before returning indoors clutching the letter to her breast. It was as if, by holding it close, she could pretend her Aunt Florrie was actually there, hugging her, comforting her, willing her to be strong.

For a while she stared at the pale-coloured envelope. How she wished her aunt was there in person. Clutching the letter to her breast at least made her feel closer to her aunt and brought her, albeit momentarily, a little comfort.

Aunt Florrie had always had a soft spot for her. On one visit, long before Rhiannon's mother's death, she'd bought Rhiannon a china doll dressed in a brightly coloured frilly satin frock. Aunt Florrie told her it was called a can-can dress and proceeded to demonstrate the lively dance with its high-kicking steps, insisting that Rhiannon, Rose and Dai should join in. Oh, what fun they'd had. Rhiannon wondered whether she'd ever be that happy again.

‘Who was that at the door? Was it news 'bout Dad?' Mair called out. She stood, still wearing her nightdress, huddled in front of the fire.

‘It was Jones the post. And no, there's still no news.'

‘Why didn't you come to bed last night? You promised you wouldn't be long. Just you wait until I tell Dad that you've been telling lies.'

‘I really don't care.' For once Rhiannon hoped Mair would have the opportunity to carry ‘clecks' to her dad. ‘Anyway, I knew I'd not be able to sleep and didn't want my tossing and turning to keep you awake. I was determined one of us would be waiting up when Dad came home.'

‘Oh, Rhi. Do you think we'll hear something soon?'

‘I hope so, but I've decided that if there's no news by teatime I'm going to take another walk up to the pithead.'

‘Well, this time I'm coming with you!'

Rhiannon nodded her agreement.

Brushing past Mair, Rhiannon walked to the mantelpiece upon which, although reluctant to let go of it, she placed the newly arrived letter.

‘Who's the letter from?'

‘Aunt Florrie.'

‘What! All the way from Paris, France?'

‘Yes.'

Over the years Florrie had regularly kept in touch by letter, making sure they always knew where she was, and that she could keep up to date with all the family changes; including the arrival of Nellie and Mair and Dad's subsequent marriage.

‘What does she say? Is she coming to visit?' Mair asked half-heartedly. Her thoughts elsewhere.

‘I don't know. The letter's addressed to Dad. He can open it when he comes in.'

‘But what if... ?'

‘He'll open it when he comes in, all right?' Rhiannon repeated,
throwing Mair a look warning her not to push it. Rhiannon wouldn't let herself even think about the ‘what if's?'

For the rest of the morning Rhiannon and Mair were determined to stay busy. They went through the motions of keeping house, neither of them saying very much, both lost in their own thoughts, both desperate for news of their dad while at the same dreading it.

It was mid-morning when Sergeant Morris and Jack Evans, an official representative for the colliery, came to the house.

‘Hello, Rhi, Mair. May we come in?'

As the two men entered the kitchen Mair clung desperately to Rhiannon's arm.

‘Have they found Dad? Is he all right?' Rhiannon blurted.

‘Rhi?' Mair looked pleadingly at her sister.

‘The rescuers found your dad about an hour ago,' Sergeant Morris said, gently taking Rhiannon by the hand.

She snatched her hand back and moved closer to Mair. ‘Tell us, quickly, tell us. Is he ... hurt?' Her eyes fixed on the sergeant's face.

‘I'm afraid it's bad news.'

‘No! Please God! Does this mean... ?' Rhiannon cried out.

The policeman slowly nodded his head.

‘Rhi, what's wrong. What's happened to Dad?'

With tears burning her eyes Rhiannon threw her arms around Mair. ‘Mair, Dad's not coming back. He's dead!'

‘N-no! N-no!‘ Mair cried out. ‘Rhi, tell them it can't be true.'

Rhiannon, with tears flowing down her cheeks, hugged her stepsister so tightly that she could hardly breathe. ‘
Cariad
,' she whispered. As she tried to comfort Mair, a realization hit her. Without Dad, there was no one to do the same for her.

As the girls clung to each other Rhiannon noticed the look of desperation that Sergeant Morris gave Jack Evans.

‘Rhiannon, Mair, we are so very sorry,' the sergeant said.

Rhiannon stopped crying. ‘But what happened? We've a right to know!' she demanded.

The sergeant sighed. Then, taking a deep breath, ‘There was a fall down the mine,' he said. ‘The nature of business makes it inevitable for these things to happen from time to time—'

‘Fortunately, with the new safety measures, it'll happen less and less,' Jack Evans interrupted.

‘Anyway, for whatever reason there was a fall and it was a big one. It may not be much consolation to you now ... but you have to know
that your father was a very brave man. Word is going around that your dad's quick action – alerting the men to the immediate danger – saved at least five of his butties.'

‘Including young Frank Lewis from next door,' Jack Evans interjected.

Rhiannon and Mair looked surprised.

‘Yes, it appears that your dad threw himself on top of him and in so doing took the main burden of the fall. There can be no doubt that his quick action saved the lad's life.'

The look on the girls' faces told him that this was too much to take in. It didn't alter the fact that their father was dead and, from now on, they were on their own.

‘Jack, maybe it would be a good idea to ask Ethel Lewis from next door to come and sit with the girls for a while,' Sergeant Morris whispered.

Jack Evans nodded his agreement and made his way to the back door. A few minutes later he returned followed by an ashen-faced Ethel.

‘Oh Rhi, Mair, what can I say? It's such terrible news.'

The girls didn't answer.

‘You'll be in shock. I'll make us all a nice pot of tea, eh?' Ethel forced a smile.

‘I think that's a grand idea, Mrs Lewis. Not for us though,' Sgt. Morris said. ‘I'm afraid we've other families to see – it's a rum job – but it has to be done. Folk need to know.' With a nod to Jack he headed for the back door. Jack followed.

‘I don't envy you, and that's for sure. Do you know how many were lost?' Ethel whispered as she let them out.

‘Yes. This morning the mine rescue team gave us the names of the sixteen men who sadly perished in the fall – all hard-working family men.' The sergeant shook his head.

‘What a bloody waste!' Jack muttered under his breath.

Ethel returned to the girls. She was filling the kettle when the back door opened. A hunch-shouldered Frank stood in the doorway. His face looked thin and gaunt, his dark hair was less unruly than usual and, dressed in a collarless shirt and thick serge trousers, he looked like an old man. Slowly he entered.

‘Frank. Now what are you doing out of bed? The doctor at the pithead said you needed complete rest—'

‘I had to come, Mam.' He turned to face the girls, ‘Rhi, Mair, I feel so
awful about your dad.'

Ethel quickly interrupted him. ‘Mair, love. Would you like to give me a hand with the tea?'

Rhiannon rightly guessed that Ethel's intention was to distract Mair and thus give her and Frank some time alone, and it worked.

As Mair helped Ethel with the tea tray Frank edged closer to Rhiannon. His clear grey eyes were soft as he looked at her.

‘Rhi, you have to believe me. If I could change places with your dad I would... .'

Rhiannon looked up at him. He was at least four inches taller than she. ‘You mustn't feel guilty.'

‘But—'

‘Frank. You didn't cause the fall. I'm so glad you're safe. If I'd lost you too ... I don't know what I'd have done.'

He bit his lip.

Aware of his silent anguish Rhiannon caught around him. She felt him cling, as if for dear life. It felt strange to have a young man's arms hold her tiny frame so tightly ... strange and yet, at the same time ... comforting.

The truth was that no one could change what had happened or bring her dad back. Her father had died bravely. She owed it to his memory to care for the living.

 

Four days later a joint funeral was held for Dai Hughes and the other fifteen men who had lost their lives in the fall down the mine. It brought the valley to a standstill – everyone was eager to pay their respects to the dead miners and their families. Rhiannon and Mair went through it all in a daze almost detached from the proceedings. Since they'd been given the tragic news Ethel Lewis had insisted on looking after them, and not just out of gratitude to their father but because she actually cared.

A week after the funeral, and with the girls still struggling to come to terms with the loss of their dad, Ethel Lewis felt it her duty to speak out about the accident.

‘Rhiannon, Mair – I have something I want to say to you both. It's common knowledge that your dad lost his life saving my Frank and I shall be forever in his debt. It's little comfort to you, I know, but I don't want you hating my Frank.'

‘Mrs Lewis, we don't hate Frank! In fact knowing he was saved helps make some sense of it all. At least Dad didn't die for nothing.'

‘Well, you may think that talk is cheap, but I want you to know that I shall never forget his sacrifice. Unfortunately there's nothing I can do for him, God rest his soul, but I'd like to repay him by taking you both in.'

‘What's she on about, Rhi?' Mair whispered.

Rhiannon shrugged her shoulders. ‘Mrs Lewis, I don't understand. Take us in – in where?'

‘I'm not making myself very clear, am I? I want – no, I'd like you and Mair to move in next door with me, Frank and the little ones.'

Rhiannon suddenly felt awkward. ‘Look, we do appreciate you thinking of us, don't we, Mair?' Mair didn't answer. ‘Don't we, Mair!' Rhiannon prompted.

‘Yes – yes, of course,' Mair said, getting the message at last.

‘But this is our home,' said Rhiannon. ‘I'm sure our dad would have wanted us to stay here.'

‘Of course, and I do understand, in an ideal world but... . oh dear, you don't know, do you?'

‘Know what, for goodness sake?' Rhiannon was getting a little fed up with Ethel Lewis's unanswerable questions.

‘Know ... that you're going to have to leave this house. You see, it's the rules. This house, like mine, is tied to the colliery. When a collier leaves or ... dies, there has to be another collier in the house for the family to stay. That's why I was so glad when your dad took on my Frank after his father passed away.'

‘You mean they're going to kick us out?' cried Mair. ‘Rhi, can they do this?'

‘Yes, I'm afraid so. I just didn't think.' Rhiannon felt such a fool. Why hadn't she remembered the plight of many of their neighbours? Over the years her father had helped where he could, either in giving them a hand to move or putting them in touch with the Salvation Army who frequently found shelter for the homeless.

‘They'll not ask you to move straight away. They usually give you a week or two before they send an official from the colliery to give you a nudge.'

‘Oh, Rhi! Where will we go? What will we do?'

‘I've already told you. There's no cause to worry; you can move in with me,' Ethel said, as if that was the end of it.

It was gone eight o'clock when Ethel Lewis eventually left them.

‘What are we going to do, Rhi?'

‘I don't know. First Dad's death and now this. It's so unfair. After all
the years of Dad working so hard for them down the pit, I can't believe that they're just going to throw us out! How dare they?'

‘It was kind of Ethel Lewis to offer us a roof over our heads, wasn't it?' Mair said, trying to calm Rhiannon down.

‘Yes, I suppose it was. But, Mair, Ethel Lewis isn't family. We'd just be like lodgers.'

‘So? What are we going to do?'

‘I don't know! Why do you always expect me to have all the answers?' Rhiannon fell into her father's chair. She wanted to cry but it was as if there were no tears left. How she wished she could set the clock back to when it was just herself and her dad; she'd been so happy then.

Then she remembered the money her dad had saved each week in the old tea caddy on the dresser. ‘For a rainy day,' he had said.