Winners and Losers (39 page)

‘Don't you think it would be odd for a miner and constable to be seen together?'

‘It's in Pontypridd.'

‘It would still be odd. And to be honest, if I can persuade Megan to give chapel a miss, I'd like to spend a quiet couple of hours with her. Given the charges I'm facing I might not be able to have too many of those in the foreseeable future.'

Huw nodded.

‘I am right, aren't I?' Victor pressed. ‘I'm going to get a prison sentence?'

‘You may be lucky,' Huw hedged.

‘How long?'

‘I don't know that,' Huw protested.

‘Your guess would be better than mine.'

‘A couple of months, but you might get a lenient jury or a judge who'll settle for a fine.' Anxious to change the subject, Huw pulled a box from his pocket and retreated to the comparative shelter of the lane. ‘Do you mind giving me an opinion on this?' He opened the box.

Victor looked down. ‘Very nice,' he complimented, admiring the gold engagement ring set with three small diamonds.

‘Do you think Lena will like it?'

‘I'm not an expert on engagement rings, Huw.'

‘You gave Megan a nice one.'

‘It was my mother's, so I had no hand in choosing it. Have you asked Lena's opinion?'

‘She doesn't even know I'm going to ask her to marry me. I thought I'd surprise her.'

‘Knowing women, she's already guessed what you're going to say.' Victor smiled. ‘When are you going to ask her?'

‘Tonight. I've booked a table for dinner in the dining room of the White Hart.'

‘You taken her there before?' Victor probed.

‘At the prices they charge!'

‘And you think she doesn't know what's coming?' Victor's smile broadened.

‘You're right, she probably does have an inkling,' Huw conceded. ‘I took her down to Pontypridd to meet my father, sister and brothers on her last day off.'

‘They got on?'

‘Like a house on fire.' Huw punched Victor playfully on the shoulder. ‘You're not the only lucky man in the Rhondda when it comes to women, you know.'

‘Just the luckiest,' Victor joked. ‘Good luck tonight.'

‘Thank you. You know, I'm more nervous about this dinner than I was facing you lot down Penygraig yesterday.'

Chapter Twenty

The quietest time of day in Joyce Palmer's lodging house was between the last serving of tea and the first of supper. The housework was finished for the day, and once the fires had been replenished and the vegetables prepared for the evening meal, Joyce retired to her sitting room. Since the weather had turned warmer, Lena and Megan had taken to climbing the stairs to their attic room to read, gossip and mend their stockings. Knowing Lena was excited about the evening off she had cadged from Mrs Palmer because it was the only one Huw was free that week, Megan had offered to see to the fires so her fellow maid could go upstairs and prepare for her big night out.

‘Someone's bought a new dress.' Megan walked into the bedroom and found Lena unpacking a large white box.

‘It cost thirty-five shillings. I've never given so much money for a dress in my life. But it has real lace and silk panels.' Lena held the pale blue frock up in front of her.

‘It is beautiful, and it will look gorgeous on you.' Megan wished, and not for the first time, that she could keep more than four shillings and five pence of the pound she earned a week for herself. She had bought herself a cotton dress length the week before, and the ten shillings the material had set her back and the five shillings the dressmaker would charge her to make it up, had taken up most of what was left of her month's wages after she'd sent her father his money.

‘You don't think it's too much for the dining room of the White Hart?' Lena asked.

‘You're the one who's already been there.'

‘To an upstairs room.' Lena blushed and turned aside. ‘You were right and I was wrong ...'

‘Huw isn't like Fred Wainwright,' Megan said quietly.

‘I know. Huw treats me like a real lady. He didn't even kiss me until we'd been stepping out together for two months and he's never tried to take advantage of me. Not the way Fred did.'

‘He took you to meet his family, so he has to be serious about you.'

Lena burst into tears.

‘Whatever is the matter?' Megan led her to the bed, and gently pushed her down on to it.

‘You know what I did with Fred,' Lena sobbed. ‘It was wrong. I never should have let him touch me. Huw thinks I'm a nice girl, and I'm not. I let Fred do things to me that a girl should only do after she's married. I'll never be the same again ...'

Megan slipped her arm around Lena's shoulders and handed her a handkerchief. ‘That's nonsense. Of course you are a nice girl. You just made one mistake with a man who took advantage of you. But anyone with eyes in their head can see that Huw Davies loves you. He won't mind ...'

‘Yes, he will. No man wants damaged goods. What I did was dirty and unforgivable. I'm no better than one of those women who stand in the lane at the back of the Empire Theatre after the show and let men do whatever they want for a few shillings. I've been stupid ...'

‘You were taken in by the wrong man, that's all,' Megan consoled. ‘It can happen to anyone.'

‘It didn't happen to you.'

‘Only because I was lucky enough to fall in love with the right man straight off.'

‘And if you hadn't, do you think that your Victor would have forgiven you?'

Megan hesitated, then realized Lena wasn't looking for truth but reassurance. ‘Of course he would have.' But she couldn't help wondering whether he would or not.

‘Huw will hate me when he finds out,' Lena blew her nose, ‘and he will find out if I marry him. Men can tell. And that will be just too awful.'

‘You could try talking to him about it.'

‘I couldn't,' Lena gasped. ‘I'd die of embarrassment.'

‘Has he told you that he loves you?'

‘Yes.'

‘And you've told him that you love him?'

‘Yes.'

‘Then everything will be fine between you, because loving someone means taking them as they are and wanting the best for them,' Megan said seriously. ‘Take my advice, pick your moment, tell him the truth and ... that's Mrs Palmer calling me. It's probably time to lay the table for supper.' She left the bed and looked back at Lena. ‘You'll be all right?'

Lena nodded.

‘You sure? I could come back up later if you need any help with dressing or anything.'

‘No,' Lena said softly. ‘I'll be fine.'

‘Everything will be all right, Lena. All you have to remember is that Huw is a good man and he loves you. Have a good time tonight. I do envy you having dinner in the White Hart –twice. But then,' Megan smiled, ‘perhaps Victor and I will have dinner there one day.' She refrained from adding, ‘After the strike.'

Sali returned to the kitchen after putting Harry to bed to discover that Mr Evans and Lloyd had returned from a strike committee meeting in the County Club. She'd expected it to go on until the early hours. All four men were sitting around the table, bleak-faced and silent.

‘What's wrong?' She looked from her father-in-law to Lloyd.

‘The committee has voted to put the recommendations of our leaders, Mabon and D. Watts Morgan, that we accept the employers' terms to a mass meeting; word is the men want to call off the strike.' Lloyd clasped his hands on the table in front of him.

Sali sank down on her chair next to him. ‘Has management agreed to any of your conditions?'

‘None,' Joey said angrily. ‘Not even a minimum wage of five shillings a day for underground workers over eighteen. We'd be going back for less than we earned before the strike started.'

‘The men could vote to continue the strike,' Victor said quietly.

‘Most of us have been beaten black and blue by the police, one miner's been killed, two have committed suicide, dozens of others are in prison on trumped-up charges, women and children have starved and died, Ned Morgan and the others were killed in a railway accident that according to the experts shouldn't have happened, and for what?' Billy Evans looked at his sons in despair. ‘Nothing! As Joey said, we'll be going back to work for less than we were getting when we walked out almost a year ago.'

‘As Victor said, the men could vote to continue the strike,' Sali suggested hollowly.

‘All this! We've gone through all this,' Joey shouted angrily, ‘only to go crawl back to management like whipped dogs to work and die underground for pence that will barely put food on the table. But never mind, the colliery companies can put more profit into their shareholder's pockets, they'll be able to buy bigger mansions and employ more servants and -'

‘Joey, you're not helping,' Lloyd remonstrated.

‘I'm going down the Pandy.' Joey walked out.

‘I'll keep him out of trouble.' Victor followed.

‘I am so very sorry.' Sali laid her hands over her husband's and father-in-law's.

‘We tried.' Billy Evans' eyes were diffused with anguish. ‘At the end of the day that's all we can say, we tried. But there'll be trouble at the meeting tomorrow. Joey's not the only one who's going to be outraged at the thought that we've put our families and ourselves through this for no gain.'

‘You're quiet, Lena.' Huw looked up at her from the ring box he'd set on the table after they'd finished their dessert of summer pudding and cream. ‘Don't you like the ring?'

‘It's beautiful, Huw.'

‘I wouldn't be upset if you didn't like it.'

‘I love it, Huw.' She looked at the ring but she didn't dare to touch it. Megan's voice echoed in her head.

‘Everything will be fine between you, because loving someone means taking them as they are and wanting the best for them
...
Pick your moment, tell him the truth and ...
'

She simply couldn't tell Huw the truth. Not now, and she knew with absolute certainty, not ever. She couldn't bear to destroy that warm, loving look on Huw's face by telling him that she wasn't the girl he thought she was. That she'd allowed another man to ...

‘Lena, what's wrong?' Huw asked. ‘I know something is.'

‘It's nothing.' She forced a smile. ‘I'm just overwhelmed, all this wonderful food and now this ring.'

‘Aren't you going to try it on?' He took the ring from the box, lifted her left hand from the table and slipped it on to her finger. ‘It's a little big, but the jeweller said he could make it smaller with clips, or if you prefer another ring altogether he'll exchange it.'

‘It's lovely, Huw.' A tear fell from her eye.

‘Lena ...'

‘I'm sorry, Huw. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. When Mam and Dad died and I had to go into the orphanage, I thought I'd never have a family again and you've been so kind ...' She blew her nose and looked across the table at him. ‘I'm fine, I really am,' she added unconvincingly.

‘I have so many plans for us. As soon as this strike is over I'll be sent back to Pontypridd and you'll come with me. We'll get married here or there, it makes no difference, it can't come soon enough for me. I get decent pay and I'll find a house we can rent not too far from my father, sister and brothers, and ...'

While Lena listened to Huw describe the life they would live together in Pontypridd, she recalled the lies Fred Wainwright had told her. She not only heard but felt the sincerity in Huw's voice, the excitement as he planned out the life that both of them would share and she wondered why she had never been able to see through Fred from the moment she'd met him as Megan had.

‘Well?' Megan asked, when Lena walked into their bedroom at eleven o'clock.

‘Huw gave me a ring and asked me to marry him.' She held out her hand and showed Megan the ring.

‘It's very pretty,' Megan complimented, sensing that something was wrong. Lena was far too composed for a girl who had just become engaged. ‘You do love Huw, don't you?'

‘More than anyone else in the world.'

‘And you told him about Fred?'

‘I will, tomorrow. Tonight wasn't the right time. Do you mind if I burn the candle for a little while longer? I have a letter to write.'

‘Not at all.' Megan thought of the letter she would write to her family, if her father would only change his mind and approve of Victor. ‘Congratulations.'

‘Thank you.'

Lena put the sheet of paper, envelope, pen and ink she had borrowed from Mrs Palmer on top of the chest of drawers. Pulling up the chair, she sat down, opened the inkbottle and began to write.

Megan was almost asleep when Lena blew out the candle. She turned over, snuggled down into her pillow and tried to conjure an image of Victor, but before she had time to picture him, his face and eyes glowing as he walked up the mountain, sleep overtook her.

The alarm woke her at six. She glanced across at Lena's bed in the soft summer light that filtered through the grey cotton curtains. It looked as though it hadn't been slept in. Had Lena woken early and gone downstairs to begin work? Or ... she recalled the times Lena had disappeared when she had been courting Fred Wainwright and wondered if she had made an early morning tryst with Huw.

Smiling at the thought of what she and Victor would be doing on her next day off, she left the bed, washed, dressed, made her bed, opened the curtains and pushed up the casement window.

Leaving the room, she ran down the steep narrow staircase. A young constable was standing on the second landing holding a glace kid, low-cut evening shoe.

‘This yours, Miss Williams?' He held it out to her.

‘No,' she took it from him. ‘It's Miss Jones'.' She glanced up and cried out in horror.

Lena hung above them, suspended by a rope that had been tied around her neck and secured to the topmost newel post. Her head was tilted at an unnatural angle, her face black.

Megan sat on the sofa in Joyce Palmer's sitting room; a glass of brandy was on the sofa table beside her but like everything else around her, it seemed unreal. She had the oddest feeling that if she tried to touch anything it would dissolve beneath her fingertips. It was as though she'd stumbled into a nightmare. Any moment the alarm clock would ring, Lena would switch it off and shout, ‘Good morning,' before leaping out of bed to take first turn at the washstand.

She glanced at Mrs Palmer who was sitting beside her, then at the clock set precisely in the centre of the mantelpiece. It was a quarter past seven in the morning and because it was high summer there was only the kitchen fire to see to, but nothing had been done. None of the rooms had been tidied or dusted and the cloth hadn't been laid on the breakfast table. Yet no one, not even Sergeant Lamb, was complaining.

Joyce patted her hand and Megan looked at her employer as though she were seeing her for the first time –a middle-aged woman, who was struggling to remain brisk, efficient and in complete control of herself and the household, even in the face of Lena's suicide.

‘We haven't done any work,' Megan muttered numbly.

‘I sent one of the constables up to Mrs Morgan's house. She would have been in at eight anyway. I'm sure it won't make much difference to her if she comes in an hour earlier.' What Joyce didn't say was that she had also asked the constable to knock on the Evans' door and fetch Victor and Sali. Megan was clearly in shock and someone had to take care of the girl, preferably away from the lodging house. She had yet to shed a tear for Lena, and in Joyce's experience, the longer the grieving process took to begin, the more crushing it was when it finally took hold.

‘It's my fault, Mrs Palmer. I should have realized what Lena meant when she said she would tell Huw in the morning. I saw her writing the letter and I did nothing ...'

‘You have to put that idea right out of your mind, Megan,' Joyce said sternly. She had listened carefully to Megan's account of not only what Lena had said to her the day before, but also the sordid story of Fred Wainwright's seduction and betrayal. She had seen but not read the letter Lena had written to Huw Davies and left together with the ring on her bed.