Beggars and Choosers (30 page)

‘You have just discovered my father's Achilles heel, Mrs Jones.' Lloyd closed his book and took his hat and coat from the table. ‘He cannot bear to be thought of as kind or thanked for anything. Sleep well, Harry, I'll see you in the morning.' He handed the boy a picture book he'd hidden under his own book and gently ruffled his hair. After he closed the door behind him, Sali reflected that Billy Evans wasn't the only one in the house who couldn't bear to be thought of as kind.

‘Auntie Rhian's gone like Uncle Iestyn?'

‘We may see her, darling, but she won't be living with us,' Sali explained.

‘The man?' As Owen had never allowed the boy to talk to him or call him by any name he had become ‘the man'.

‘We won't be seeing him again,' Sali said shortly.

‘And we are going to live here, together?'

‘Yes.' Sali gazed at the porridge bowl in dismay. She had made a child's portion, but Harry had declared himself full after eating only a quarter of it. ‘Would you like to go to bed now?'

‘Are you going?'

Sali looked at the clock. It was only eight o'clock but she had no idea when Victor and Joey would be back with clothes for Harry. And, as he had a shirt for tonight, he didn't need them until morning. ‘As soon as I've made some sandwiches for your ... uncles.' The word sounded strange.

‘Can I wait for you?'

‘Yes, darling.' She dropped a kiss on the crown of his head. ‘You can wait for me.'

He watched solemnly over the rim of his cup as she brought out bread, cheese and butter, and made a pile of sandwiches that she wrapped in a scalded linen teacloth and set between two plates on the table.

She put the food away, banked down the fire with small coal for the night, tidied the kitchen and turned down the gas. Lighting an oil lamp, she lifted Harry from the chair and carried him up the stairs.

‘A fire, in our bedroom.' He tried to jump on the bed when she set him on it and fell over, bouncing on to his back as he became hopelessly tangled in Joey's oversized shirt. ‘I didn't hurt myself,' he declared manfully, as she rushed to him.

‘You sure?' She turned back the bedclothes and tucked him between the sheets.

‘I'm sure. I like this room, Mam.'

She looked around. Her clothes had been carried in and hung in the wardrobe. Billy Evans had left his wife's beautiful china toilet set decorated with daisies on the washstand for her. There was fresh water, soap and towels, and the bed had been made with thick blankets and a quilted patchwork bedspread. ‘It's sheer luxury, Harry.'

‘What's sheer luxury?' Harry asked after she had undressed, washed, changed into her nightdress and crept into bed beside him.

She laid her hand over his small fragile body and hugged him. ‘This,' she whispered, holding him close as she kissed him goodnight.

‘You and me together? That's sheer luxury?'

‘The best kind there is, Harry.'

Chapter Sixteen

‘You knew she wasn't a widow?' Lloyd asked Connie.

‘Yes.'

‘And you didn't think to mention it?' Saturday wasn't one of the evenings Lloyd worked on the accounts because Connie kept the shop open until eleven. But preoccupied by Sali's revelations, and hoping to find out more than his father had told him, Lloyd had waited in the Pandy until midnight. When the streets were clear of stragglers he made his way to the alleyway behind Rodney's. Seeing a light burning in Connie's office he had taken a chance that she was working late and thrown stones at the window until she let him in. What he hadn't bargained for was that she'd only be wearing a silk robe, chemise, corset and stockings.

‘Would it have made any difference if I had told you that her husband was alive?' She kicked off her shoes, unbuckled her garters and rolled her stockings from her legs.

‘It might have.'

‘I can't see why. Aren't you going to undress?'

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he removed his jacket. ‘I don't see why you thought it necessary to lie to us.'

‘She was obviously too frightened to tell me her real name in case her husband tracked her down. And, after seeing her bruises, I could understand why she didn't want to see him again.'

‘Did she tell you that her husband had beaten her and put her in the infirmary?' He sat on a chair and tugged off his boots.

‘Sort of.' She turned her back to him. ‘Unlace my corset.'

‘I can't understand why you women strap yourself into these contraptions,' he grumbled as he tugged at the laces. ‘And what do you mean by “sort of”? She told you her tale of woe because she wanted you to feel sorry for her?'

‘No, she didn't,' Connie mused thoughtfully. ‘Come to think of it, she didn't tell me at all. I guessed. When I said I couldn't give her the job because she didn't have a character, she told me I could write to Swansea Training College, but she also asked me not reveal her whereabouts, so I assumed she was hiding from someone. I suggested it was her husband and she didn't contradict me.'

‘She didn't tell you that she had a child.'

‘No. If she had, I would never have engaged her as your housekeeper.'

‘Why?'

‘Because you four are soft touches. Before you know it, he'll be calling you Uncle Lloyd, Uncle Joey and Uncle Victor.'

Lloyd had trouble keeping a straight face. ‘Not to mention Uncle Billy.'

‘Your father is worse than any of you and I should know. He's been my uncle for long enough.' Stripping off her corset and chemise, she lay on the sofa and watched him as he peeled off his socks and drawers. ‘I had no idea she was a colliery owner's daughter. It must be tough coming down in the world.'

‘As opposed to never being up in the first place.' Reaching into the pocket of the jacket he'd hung on the back of a chair, he removed a tobacco tin, opened it, and took out a French letter.

‘You ever offered anyone one of those instead of a pipeful of tobacco?' she asked playfully, as he lay beside her.

‘Not yet.'

‘I like it when you turn up unexpectedly.' She closed her hands around his erection.

‘You know just how to get me going, don't you?'

‘And don't you ever forget it. Now!' she whispered urgently, moving closer to him. ‘Right now, but slowly ... Much more slowly, Lloyd,' she moaned, as he penetrated her.

‘You always want this to last for ever.' He rolled on his back and shifted her on top of him as he moved inside her.

‘And what's wrong with that?' She kissed him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth.

As always, he held back until she'd climaxed, only then did he allow himself to indulge his own pleasure.

‘Be careful with the French letter,' she warned, as he finally withdrew from her.

‘I always am.' He left the sofa and went to the cupboard at the side of the fireplace, opening it to reveal a built-in washstand.

He washed and dried himself and the letter before returning it to the tin. ‘I hate using those damned things,' he swore.

‘A little bastard would kill my reputation and my business. Not to mention your plans for a happy family life with some sweet young thing half my age,' she added cuttingly.

‘Which is why we have to stop doing this.'

‘Who came to whose door tonight?'

‘I came to find out what you knew about our housekeeper.'

‘You are in danger of becoming a bore, my darling. We have a warm, comfortable room, a fire to bask in front of, and,' she reached for a packet of cigarettes and a box of matches, ‘a cigarette to share. Let's just enjoy it and each other.' She tickled his groin, as he lay beside her again.

‘Repeat that, and it's not a cigarette I'll be lighting.' He took the cigarettes from her.

‘Promise?' She rested her head on his chest. He struck a match, lit a cigarette and passed it to her. She inhaled and handed it back to him. ‘You are going to find a difference with a small child in the house.'

‘We all are.' He blew a smoke ring at the ceiling.

‘Is that why you want to get married? To have children?'

‘I wouldn't say no to a couple.'

‘You mean that, don't you?'

‘I've never made any secret of wanting a family.' He knew he was hurting her, but he refused to demean her or himself by telling her a lie.

‘Then I'm not enough for you?' There was anger and something else in her voice that he couldn't quite decipher.

‘When we are like this, you've always been enough for me, but we're not always like this, and it was you who refused to marry me, remember?' The scent of her perfume suddenly caught at the back of his throat, and he moved away from her. ‘You should have seen Joey and Victor tonight in the Pandy.' Weary of discussing their complicated relationship, he changed the subject. ‘They went shopping for clothes for Sali's son and bought all kind of other rubbish as well. Sweets, comics, toys. The poor kid's been pushed from pillar to post for the last couple of months. By the look of him he's never seen a square meal in his life and Joey wants to give him a bag of gobstoppers.'

‘While you, of course, are totally indifferent to him?'

‘Not entirely.' He reached for his drawers. ‘He looks a quiet enough child and his grandfather was good to me.'

‘And his mother?' She snatched the drawers from his hands.

‘Creeps round the house like a frightened mouse waiting for a cat to pounce.'

‘You aren't attracted to her?'

‘For pity's sake, Connie, have you seen her?'

‘Not since her bruises have faded. The delivery boy says they have. Is he right?'

‘Yes,' he snapped in exasperation. ‘She also has a figure like a twig with the bark scraped off, a convict hairstyle and about as much personality as a hat stand.'

‘Then I can expect you to carry on visiting me for a while yet.' She slipped her hand between his naked thighs.

‘I'd rather we switched to a platonic relationship.'

‘So you keep saying, but you never start doing.'

‘Because you always end up seducing me. But I warn you, someday I'll develop willpower.'

‘Not for a long while yet, I hope. I enjoy sinning with you too much to forgo the pleasure.' She removed the cigarette from between his lips and tossed it into the fire. ‘Besides, it gives me something to confess.'

‘Do you tell the priest everything about us?' he asked, horrified.

‘Absolutely everything.' She slipped her hand higher. ‘The poor man is supposed to live a celibate life so he's entitled to a little excitement now and then, even if it does come second-hand. Our friend is stirring. Shall I pass you the tobacco tin?'

‘Can't we give them to him as a present?' Joey pleaded.

‘No,' Sali countered sternly. ‘Harry is my son and I will buy his clothes and pay for his keep. Now, can I please have the bill for everything you bought?'

‘You can have the bill for the clothes and boots.' Joey smiled at Harry.

Harry glanced timidly back at Joey. He was sitting at the table struggling to eat all his porridge because his mother had asked him to. Dressed in his new Sunday best – a sailor suit with breeches that buttoned at the knee over long, thick woollen stockings – he felt warmer, more comfortable and more dressed up than he ever had in his life before. The only problem was, his boots hurt and he wasn't sure he should tell his mother in case it upset her and made her shout even louder at his new Uncle Joey.

‘Joey.' Sali held out her hand, and Joey produced the bill from his shirt pocket. She read it carefully.

One sailor suit, two pairs of cord breeches, one waistcoat, two woollen jerseys, three flannel shirts, three sets of underclothes, two nightshirts, three pairs of stockings, a pair of boots, a woollen coat and a cap.

All essential, but the total was two pounds, nineteen shillings and seven pence. Nearly three pounds! She took her purse from her pocket opened it and counted out the exact money. ‘Now I want the bill for the comics, toys and sweets.'

‘No!' Joey said emphatically.

‘Yes,' she contradicted, holding out her hand.

‘You won't let him eat the sweets,' Joey protested.

‘Not yet, no –'

‘No, Mam! No shouting! No shouting!' Harry left the table and ran to her. Wrapping his arms around her legs, he burst into tears.

‘It's all right, Harry.' She tried to crouch down to his level, but he was holding on so tightly it was impossible for her to move without hurting him.

‘Harry.' Kneeling, Victor gently unwound the boy's arms from around Sali's legs. ‘Mam and Joey will stop shouting, right now,' he murmured, giving them both a stern look. ‘They were only arguing because your mam wanted to pay for the comics that Joey bought for himself.'

‘And I suppose you never looked at them?' Joey retorted.

‘Ssh, no shouting, Joey.' To Sali's amazement, Harry clung to Victor as he rose to his feet.

‘Come on, Sali,' Joey coaxed in a softer voice. ‘We only bought him a ball and a teddy bear. He can accept presents, can't he?'

‘This once,' Sali relented, seeing Harry stroke the bear that Victor picked up from the table and handed to him. ‘But he's my son, not yours, and he's not used to being given things. I don't want him spoiled.'

‘We'll ask your permission before we give him anything else,' Victor conceded.

‘Thank you.'

‘And now we're late for mass.' Forewarned by his father and Lloyd, who hadn't had time to move the coat rack, Joey looked at Harry. ‘Is it all right if I lift the coats and caps down, Harry?' He waited for the boy to nod before grabbing them. ‘Look after Mr Bear, Harry. See you later, Sali.'

‘I'll be making dinner.'

‘It's your day off,' Victor reminded.

‘I don't feel like going anywhere. It will be on the table at one o'clock.'

‘What's all the noise?' Lloyd brushed past Joey in the passage.

‘Sali being bossy.' Joey slammed the front door behind him.

‘What have you been doing to my brothers?' Lloyd asked Sali in amusement as he sat at the kitchen table.

‘Ordering them not to spoil Harry. There's tea in the pot.' She set a cup, saucer plate, knife and fork in front of him. ‘What would you like for breakfast?'

‘It's your day off.'

‘I really don't mind.'

‘In that case, bacon and eggs, please.'

She watched her son struggle with a spoonful of porridge and decided it was better he eat a little than make himself ill forcing down food he would have trouble digesting. ‘You can leave the table if you can't eat any more, Harry.'

Holding his teddy by the arm, Harry picked up the comics Joey had given him and walked to Mrs Evans's chair.

‘Not there, Harry,' Sali warned.

‘If you come here, I'll read you those comics while your mother cooks my breakfast, Harry.' Lloyd pushed out the chair next to his.

Harry waited for Sali to give her approval before climbing on to the chair.

‘Now, what have we here?' Lloyd opened the comic. ‘Coloured comics with Frog Faced Ferdinand, Watty Wool Whiskers, the Monkey and the Bathers. I'll read it to you if you like, then later on, I'll get something I think you'll enjoy a whole lot more. Do you like reading?'

‘I ... we didn't have books,' Sali explained as she laid strips of bacon in the frying pan. ‘But I taught Harry his letters.'

‘F', Harry pointed to the ‘F' in Ferdinand.

‘Clever boy,' Lloyd said approvingly. ‘We'll have you reading
Das Kapital
next week.'

‘I think Harry might prefer fairy stories,' Sali said.

It was the first time Lloyd had heard Sali express an opinion on something since she'd moved into the house and he decided to push her to see how far she would go to defend her viewpoint. ‘Fairy stories are for girls.'

‘They are suitable for small children,' she persevered.

‘I cut my reading teeth on the children's version of the
Iliad
and the
Odyssey.
I still have the copies. How about we start Harry on those?'

‘I think I'd prefer them to Frog Faced Ferdinand and Watty Wool Whiskers,' she agreed. ‘Would you like one egg or two?'

‘Three, fried with soft yolks, and bread and butter soldiers for Harry to dip.'

After Lloyd and his father left the house to go to the County Club, Sali cleared the breakfast things, prepared the vegetables, put a chicken in the oven, tidied the kitchen and made the beds. Tempted by the cold, clear autumn day, she dressed Harry in his coat and cap, slipped on her own coat and hat, gave him the ball Joey and Victor had bought for him and took him into the garden. Harry dragged his steps as she led him past the vegetable plot, which Victor had stripped of plants. The dogs wagged their tails in their pen.