Sinners and Shadows (9 page)

If that was the case, why had her mother never complained? And what about all the other married women she was acquainted with who seemed to be happy? People like Sali Evans, who was always laughing and smiling whenever she appeared with her husband at the town's social and charitable events.

She couldn't help pitying her father, even if it was his own fault that he was tied to Mabel. But then he, like her, had found himself marooned in a terrible emotional wasteland after her mother's death. They had been too crushed to reach out to one another for comfort, because each had been deeply enmeshed in their own selfish grief. She suspected that he had turned to Mabel because he had been unbearably lonely, and the one thing she understood only too well was the desperation of absolute loneliness.

Geraint Watkin Jones was kind and attentive, even if he was only after her money, and Mabel was reason enough for her to leave her father's house. She was of age and able to dictate her own destiny. The only problem was how could she see more of Geraint without exciting Mabel's suspicions? Because if Mabel discovered what she was up to, she would take great delight in telling her father that his only daughter had developed an interest in an ‘unsuitable' man.

She knew her father would realize that Geraint was only after her money, and that would lead to even more arguments in the house, between them, as well as between him and Mabel. If she pretended to shop, Mabel would accompany her, and Geraint Watkin Jones would never dare to invite her anywhere while they remained within Mabel's earshot. It was up to her. She would have to wait for an opportunity – or make one. And when it came, swallow her pride and risk incurring her stepmother's wrath by inviting Mr Watkin Jones to spend time with her.

As Sali had predicted, they found Harry and Joey in the stables with Robert, Ynysangharad House's groom-cum-chauffeur. Harry was perched on Joey's shoulders and all three were gazing into the stall where the new foal was tottering around his mother on unsteady legs.

‘Come and see Toffee, Auntie Rhian,' Harry shouted when he spotted her in the doorway with his mother.

‘That's a strange name for a horse.' Rhian glanced sideways at Joey as she stood alongside them.

‘Dad said I could name him and ride him as soon he's old enough to be broken in. I called him Toffee because of his colour,' Harry explained.

‘The exact same shade as the toffee Mari makes from Golden Syrup.' Sali stood the other side of Joey and her son. ‘I think you're more enamoured with the foal than you are with your new sister, young man.'

‘All Edyth does is eat, sleep, cry and fill her nappies,' Harry said with the frankness of a child.

‘So did you at her age,' Sali laughed. ‘But you grew up to be more interesting.'

‘I'm going to get myself a six-gun like Broncho Bill, and race Toffee round the fields, lassoing the other horses and ponies and chasing off the Indians.'

‘Not that there are many Indians in Pontypridd,' Sali said practically. ‘I think two visits to the Wild West Exhibition was one too many for you, Harry.'

‘Do you want to stroke Toffee again before I go to clean the car, Master Harry?' Robert asked.

‘Yes, please, Robert.'

Joey continued to stand, taciturn and self-contained, after he lifted Harry from his shoulders.

‘Time you two were on your way if you want to get a good seat at the exhibition,' Sali hinted.

‘I have booked the best seats,' Joey snapped.

‘So did Lloyd, but they aren't numbered and there are six rows in the section. The one nearest to the ring gets filled first because it has the best view.' Sali leaned over the half-door and watched the foal nuzzle Harry's hand.

‘He already knows you, Master Harry.' Robert freshened the water bucket and set it beside the mare.

‘Thanks to your tutoring, Robert,' Sali said gratefully.

Feeling as though Sali couldn't wait to get rid of him and Rhian, Joey buttoned his coat, pulled his gloves from his pocket and put them on. ‘Do you have to go back into the house?' he asked Rhian.

‘No. You?'

‘No,' he answered emphatically.

‘Why don't you come back here for tea after the exhibition?' Sali invited, aware that Joey was annoyed with her for suggesting they leave.

‘I have to call into the Pontypridd store.' Joey adjusted his hat.

‘It's your day off.'

‘We're missing an order of men's boots. They may have been delivered to Market Square by mistake.'

‘Surely you could have sorted that by telephone.' Sali held out her hand to Harry when Robert opened the stable door.

‘If I sort things personally, I know they're done. Thank you for the lunch, Sali. Say goodbye to Mari for me. See you soon, Harry.' Joey pretended to shadow-box Harry but even that was a half-hearted gesture. ‘Bye, Robert.'

‘Thank you for lunch and the talk.' Rhian kissed Sali's cheek. ‘See you soon.' Drawing strength from Sali's look of sympathy, she shook Harry's hand and said goodbye to Robert before following Joey down the drive.

‘If you don't want to sit next to me at the exhibition, you don't have to,' Joey snarled when she drew alongside him.

‘That would be childish.' Braving rejection, she took his arm. ‘I talked to Sali.'

‘About us?' He gave her a withering look.

‘I needed advice. I don't have anyone else to turn to except Mrs Williams. And we both know what she thinks of you.'

‘And Sali's view of me is so different to your Mrs Williams's?' he said acidly.

‘Sali loves you like a brother and you know it.'

‘I bet her love didn't extend to recommending that you accept my proposal.' Shaking her hand from his arm, he adjusted his muffler.

‘She suggested that I try talking to you, but I can see it's useless while you remain in this mood. And the longer you do, the more convinced I'll be that I've made the right decision.' She finally allowed her own anger to surface. ‘You're behaving like a small boy who's throwing a tantrum because he can't have all the sweets in the shop.'

‘I have a right to be upset.'

‘With me, but not with Sali, Harry, Bella and Mari. You were unbearable at lunch.'

He spotted a bench set in a shrubbery on the edge of the croquet lawn. ‘If you're determined to carry on punishing me, we can spare ten minutes for you to have a real go.'

‘I am not punishing you,' she said crossly, walking across to the bench with him. ‘Just because I didn't go all dewy-eyed and gasp, “Oh yes, please, Joey,” when you asked me to marry you –'

Without warning, he pulled her into the shelter of the trees and silenced her by kissing her a second time. When he released her he looked down into her eyes. ‘Why are you so angry with me?'

‘Because you are angry with me.'

‘Just answer me one question. Could you love me?'

‘I already do,' she confessed.

‘Then forgive me and marry me,' he pressed.

‘Sali said it's best not to forgive but rather forget what happened before you marry someone.'

‘Sali's right. I told you, Rhian, I wish I didn't have a past –'

She held a gloved finger over his lips. ‘It's not the past that concerns me, Joey, it's the future. Can't you understand that?'

He slipped his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. ‘I solemnly promise you, Rhian, that if you marry me, I will never do anything to hurt you.'

‘Never?' she whispered, wanting to believe him.

‘Never,' he reiterated soberly. He slipped the glove from her left hand and took the ring from the box. ‘You'll take this?'

She looked into his eyes, saw the love mirrored in them and gave him the answer he had been waiting for. ‘Yes.'

Chapter Five

Conscious only of the ring on her finger and Joey sitting beside her, the exhibition passed in a haze for Rhian. The colour, the cries of the cowboys, cowgirls and Indians, the thundering of the horses' hooves, the smell of horseflesh and cordite when the guns were fired, made little impression. She was aware of the spectacle, but she couldn't entirely dispel the sensation that she was watching it from a distance or even on screen in the Park Hall.

She gripped Joey's hand, gasped along with the rest of the audience when they watched the Indian attack on the Deadwood stagecoach, saw Broncho Busters lasso horses and crack their whips. But even the ‘Ride for Life' where a Cowboy and Indian raced their horses against one another in a re-enactment of an actual event when the loser lost not only his horse, but also his life, failed to rouse her.

All she could think about was the man sitting beside her and their future – together. She imagined their wedding: a small, special occasion with all of his family and Mrs Williams, Miss Julia and the maids at Llan House present. She pictured the dress she'd wear: white, elegant, bridal but not too bridal to wear to a party or dance afterwards. She'd carry flowers – something simple, lilies perhaps – and Bella would be her bridesmaid in a new frock in her favourite pink.

And afterwards she and Joey would honeymoon, hopefully by the sea, which she'd never seen, in a rented cottage. Spending long days and moonlit nights walking on beaches, eating romantic meals in cafés and then a train journey back to Tonypandy and … her blood ran cold as her imagination painted a picture of their daily life.

Joey going to work, not like most men in the Rhondda, dressed in moleskin trousers, flat cap and miners' boots, but a tailored suit with a waistcoat, white collar, shirt and tie. Coming home as clean as he went out, and in between … She recalled the pretty young girls who worked in the Tonypandy store. Would she turn into a suspicious, nagging, jealous wife? Would Joey really change his wandering ways?

‘Can I get you something to eat or drink? There's tea, orange juice, buns, biscuits and sweets,' Joey asked when an intermission was announced so the arena could be prepared for the ‘backwoodsmen's log chariot race'.

‘Not after that lunch we had at Sali's.'

‘You ate about as much of that as I did,' he reminded. ‘And it's not that warm. How about I get us two hot teas and a packet of biscuits?'

‘If you like.' Already she didn't want to let him out of her sight.

‘I won't be long.'

She felt ridiculously bereft when Joey left her side to join the queue outside the refreshment kiosk. Then a piercing voice she recognized rang down from the seats behind her.

‘Really, Edward, you told me that you had reserved the best seats and here we are, sitting in the same section and only one row away from our parlour maid.'

Rhian glanced behind her and saw Mr and Mrs Larch, Miss Julia, Master Gerald and his friend from the vicarage. Miss Julia mouthed a silent apology but she turned back quickly. It was too late to hide from the mistress but she didn't want to fuel Mrs Larch's indignation by staring.

‘Two teas and two buns, they'd run out of biscuits by the time I got to the head of the queue.' Joey handed Rhian a cup and saucer. ‘Mrs Larch, Miss Larch, Mr Larch, boys.' He acknowledged Edward and his family.

‘Mr Evans, Rhian. Wonderful show, isn't it?' Edward answered.

‘Yes, it is, Mr Larch.' Setting the buns and his tea on his seat, Joey lifted his hat to the Larch ladies.

Taking courage from Joey, Rhian turned to her employers and said a shy ‘hello'. Mrs Larch ignored her but Julia gave her a broad conspiratorial smile. She had just lent her James Fenimore Cooper's
The Last of the Mohicans
and the exhibition couldn't have been more perfect to conjure up the atmosphere of the Wild West.

Joey took his seat. ‘Enjoying the exhibition?'

‘It's wonderful.'

He lowered his voice. ‘I heard what Mrs Larch said.'

‘I am her parlour maid –'

‘And you have every right to sit in the seats we paid for,' he said warmly.

‘Sometimes you sound just like Lloyd and your father.'

‘I might not be a fully paid-up member of the Communist party like them, but I believe just as fervently in the doctrine of liberty, fraternity, equality and workers' rights.' That time he didn't bother to soften his voice and Mabel Larch exhaled sharply behind them. The band struck up a march and the brass instruments drowned out all chance of further conversation.

Broncho Bill moved into the centre of the ring, the horses drew the log chariots into a circle ranged along the outer edge. Broncho Bill fired his gun, the horses reared, Joey squeezed her hand under cover of her coat and the race began.

‘Mr Larch seems a nice man.' Joey acknowledged Rhian's employer and his family again when they joined the crowd streaming away from the marquee.

‘He is kind and thoughtful, his first wife was too.'

‘You've not said much about his second.' He took her hand and guided her through the mass of people. ‘In fact, you never say much about life in Llan House, apart from the doings of Mrs Williams and the other maids.'

‘Servants should never talk about their employers outside or inside the house.'

‘That sounds like one of Mrs Williams's maxims.'

‘You're beginning to recognize them.'

‘But if what the second Mrs Larch said about not wanting to sit close to one of her maids is an indication as to what she's like –'

‘It is, and I'll say no more on the subject,' she interrupted. She had been terrified of Mrs Larch ever since she'd slapped her, and she didn't want to discuss her with Joey for fear she'd let something slip. He and Sali had questioned her long and hard about the bruises on her face and she'd never been entirely sure that they'd believed her story about colliding with Bronwen in a doorway. The mistress had a hot temper, but Joey's was worse, and there was no saying what he'd do if he discovered that Mrs Larch had harmed her. She looked around. ‘We're walking into town?'

‘I told you I have to call into the store. I'll only be a few minutes. You don't mind, do you?'

‘Of course not.'

‘I thought we'd accept Sali's invitation to tea, that way we can talk about our engagement on the way back when we won't be surrounded by people. And we can also break the news to Sali and Lloyd when he comes home from work.'

‘I'm wearing your ring so there's nothing more to talk about.'

‘Given the trouble I had in getting you to accept it, there's lots to talk about. Like where and when we are going to get married, where we are going to honeymoon, where we are going to live. What kind of furniture and china we are going to buy –'

‘We've months to settle all that,' she broke in quickly.

‘Months! I'd like to get married before the summer.'

‘Joey, let's not talk about this now,' she urged as a tall, fat man pushed his elbow into her face.

‘I don't think I've ever seen Ponty so full.' He sidestepped past the man only to find himself in the centre of a crowd of giggling girls.

By walking in the road instead of the pavement, they finally managed to push their way through Bridge Street and Taff Street into Market Square.

‘I'll have a look around ladies' fashions while you search for your boots.' Rhian smiled at the doorman who ushered them into the store.

‘There's an excellent bridalwear department.' He bent his head to hers and she pushed him away.

‘Not in public.'

‘That's another thing we have to discuss,' he whispered. ‘The list is growing longer by the minute.'

‘Mr Evans.'

‘Miss Gulliford, beautiful as ever.' He took the middle-aged supervisor's hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it. ‘Is Mr Horton in his office?'

Rhian watched him flirt with Miss Gulliford before walking away. Joey was right; they did have a lot to discuss. And she suspected that he wasn't going to like some of the things she was going to say.

‘Mr Watkin Jones is stocktaking, Mr Evans. He should be able to help you locate the boots, that's if they were delivered here by mistake.' Mr Horton reached for the bell on his desk. ‘Can I offer you a cup of tea before you go upstairs?'

‘No, thank you, Mr Horton. As I said, this is my day off and I've promised to visit my brother.'

‘Well, as you trained here, you should know your way to the stockrooms.'

‘I haven't forgotten my way around, Mr Horton.' Glad to be dismissed from the strait-laced, excessively formal manager's presence so easily, Joey left the office and strode down the corridor to the lifts. He pressed the button and the liftboy opened the cage doors.

‘Stockroom, please.'

‘Yes, Mr Evans.'

‘You're Geoff Matthews's brother, aren't you?' Joey asked, seeing a resemblance between the red-headed boy and a stockroom assistant who worked for him in Tonypandy.

‘Yes, sir. Anything going in Tonypandy, sir?' the boy asked as the lift travelled upwards.

‘You're not happy here?' Joey braced himself when the lift juddered to a halt.

‘Not happy working on the lift, sir. I've been on it now for six months, and I hardly see daylight during working hours.'

‘So what do you want to do?'

‘Work on menswear.'

‘You mean you want the suit that comes with an assistant's job.' Joey knew that no boy past the age of fourteen liked wearing the pageboy outfit of the lift operator. ‘Have you talked to Mr Horton about how you feel?'

‘Me, talk to Mr Horton, sir? No,' the boy gasped.

‘Mr Watkin Jones then.'

‘I can't talk to the managers, sir.'

‘You're talking to me,' Joey reminded.

‘Our Geoff said he can talk to you about anything, sir. That's why I asked if there was anything going in Tonypandy.'

Joey suppressed a smile. His management style had raised a few eyebrows amongst the trustees of Harry's estate when he had first taken over the Tonypandy store. But when the sales figures of Gwilym James in Tonypandy had risen beyond even their expectations, they'd ceased questioning his decisions. ‘You'll never get on if you won't talk to the managers here, boy. Tell you what, I'll mention it to Miss Gulliford, she can bring the matter up with Mr Horton for you.'

‘You won't have a word on my behalf with him, would you, sir?' The boy opened the lift doors.

‘I manage the Tonypandy store, not this one, but I will talk to Miss Gulliford, and I suggest you do the same.'

‘I'll try, sir.' The boy climbed back into the lift and closed the cage doors.

Joey walked down the corridor that housed the stockrooms. Every door was marked with the name of a department. He stopped outside ‘footwear' and turned the doorknob. It seemed stiff but he tried again and it burst open. Only then did he realize that the door had been locked.

Geraint Watkin Jones was kneeling between the splayed legs of a dark-haired girl, his trousers and underpants down around his ankles; her drawers lay, discarded, at their feet.

Embarrassed, but not as mortified as Tonia and Geraint appeared to be, Joey muttered, ‘Sorry, I was looking for some boots,' before closing the door.

A few seconds later Geraint emerged into the corridor, red-faced and blustering. ‘We were stocktaking.'

‘You do know that Tonia is my cousin,' Joey informed him frigidly.

‘It's not what it looks like. We're engaged.'

‘Funny, her mother never said a word to me about it the last time I saw her.' Joey crossed his arms and confronted Geraint head on.

‘We haven't told her yet.'

‘Could that be because Tonia's only eighteen and you know Connie wouldn't give you permission to marry?'

‘We need time –'

‘You might be Sali's brother, but you're lower than a bloody worm, Geraint,' Joey hissed, losing his temper. ‘You don't give a fig about Tonia; you're after her mother's money and business. And by taking down Tonia's drawers you hope to get her pregnant so Connie will have to let you marry her.'

‘That is a foul thing to say, Joey, especially after the number of girls' drawers you've taken down.'

Eyes blazing, Tonia wrenched open the stockroom door and joined them. ‘I love Geraint and he loves me.'

‘He's using you!' Joey countered. ‘This is your penniless spendthrift father and mother all over again.'

Tonia lifted her hand and slapped Joey across the face.

‘Hit me if you like.' Joey rubbed his face but made no effort to retaliate. ‘It won't change anything. And let's see how strong this great love of yours is after I've told Geraint who owns Rodney's Provisions.'

‘What do you mean?' Geraint said.

‘Connie's father was so worried that her husband would gamble away his business and life savings that he left everything to Lloyd. And, knowing my brother, if you do force Tonia to marry you, he'll see that you don't get a single penny of Connie's money, or a share of her business.'

‘Is this true?' Geraint demanded of Tonia.

‘What if it is?' Tonia dismissed carelessly. ‘It doesn't matter. We love one another. You said we'd elope. That we'd marry in Scotland. Tell Joey that you're arranging everything.'

‘I am, but we have to be practical, Tonia.'

‘Practical. You sound like my mother. We're in love … we …'

Tonia looked from Geraint to Joey. In one blinding instant she saw him through Joey's eyes. Joey opened his arms. But she held back, standing firm and upright as tears poured down her cheeks. ‘I hate you, Joey Evans. Hate you! As long as I live I'll never forgive you for this.'

‘I'm sorry, Tonia.' He glared at Sali's brother. ‘I'll see you again, Geraint, and when I do it will be a pleasure for me.' Forgetting all about the boots, he walked away.