Hearts of Gold (44 page)

She had to force herself to recall that Andrew had rejected her. That he despised her, never wanted to see her again. It was Alun not him who was waiting … 

‘Can’t go in there, Nurse,’ a young constable barked officiously as he rocked on his heels in the doorway, full of self-importance at the task that had been entrusted to him.

‘I live here,’ Bethan protested mildly.

‘Do you now?’

‘She does.’ Megan’s brother Huw interrupted from the porch behind him. He looked down at Bethan. ‘You’d better come in, love,’ he said gently. ‘I think we’ve got some news for you.’

The young constable stepped aside. She followed Huw down the passage, squeezing past two policemen who were standing in the open bedroom doorway watching Alun dress. One of them stepped inside and closed the door as she passed.

‘What’s going on?’ she demanded of Huw. The sight of so many officers milling around in uniform took her back to that fateful Sunday morning in Megan’s. And all the foul, disastrous repercussions of that awful day.

‘Is it all right if I tell her, Sarge?’ Huw asked the same sergeant who’d supervised the ransacking of the houses in Leyshon Street.

‘Go ahead.’ The sergeant squinted at Bethan as she left the back kitchen. ‘Haven’t I seen you before, Nurse?’

‘Yes,’ she answered briefly, not about to volunteer the information as to where.

Huw guided her into the kitchen where the kettle was just beginning to boil on the stove. Without stopping to take off her cloak, she walked over to the range, lifted it off the hotplate and picked up the hook to replace the cover.

‘Don’t do that, love,’ Huw stopped her. ‘I’ll make us both a cup of tea. You look as though you could do with one. It’s a long cold walk from the hospital to here in the rain.’

‘It is,’ she agreed, taking off her cloak and sitting in one of the chairs.

The tea caddy, sugar basin, milk jug and cups were already laid out on the table. Huw put the kettle back on to boil while he warmed the pot and spooned in the tea.

‘You got married yesterday then?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she answered flatly.

‘Bit sudden, wasn’t it?’

‘No doubt you’ve guessed the reason why,’ she retorted sullenly, resenting his prying.

‘We were afraid of that.’

‘We?’ She looked questioningly at him as he spooned three sugars into both of their teas without asking her what she took.

‘Me and my sergeant.’ He handed her a cup.

‘Who I marry is none of your, or your sergeant’s, concern.’

‘If it’s Alun Jones it could be,’ he said mysteriously. ‘And then again from what Megan told me I never reckoned on you marrying Alun. I thought you were going out with that doctor fellow.’

‘I was.’

‘Tell me,’ he eased his bulk into the small rickety chair opposite hers, ‘do you love Alun?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘It could be important.’

‘No,’ she answered honestly, taking a sip of the strong, bitter-sweet tea. ‘Why? Has he done something terrible?’

‘To you, love, yes. Mary Bennett came down the station last night. Know her?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t.’

‘I thought you might at least have known the name. Alun’s had his feet under her table for years, if you take my meaning.’

‘Is she the widow who lives down the bottom of the Graig hill?’ she asked, recalling something Megan had said.

‘That’s the one. She heard the gossip about you and Alun yesterday and came to see us. Appears he told her years ago that he wanted to marry her but couldn’t because he wasn’t free.’ He took Bethan’s cup from her fingers, and enveloped her freezing hands in his great calloused paws. ‘He’s already married, love. Left a wife and two children in North Wales ten years ago. Never sent them a word or a penny in all that time. Not even a present for the kiddies at Christmas or on their birthdays. We telegraphed Wrexham last night. There’s no doubt that it’s him. He even admitted it when we tackled him about it this morning. He thought he could get away with it. And, knowing you, love, I’m not surprised he tried. You would make any man a wife to be proud of. I’m only sorry that I have to be the one to tell you.’

She stared at him, dumbfounded.

‘It’s not that you’ve done anything wrong.’ Huw tried to reassure her, putting his huge tree-trunk of an arm around her shoulders. ‘But you’ve still got to come down the station. Just to make a statement. There’s nothing to worry about, I promise you. I’ll stay with you all the time if you want me to. And afterwards I’ll ask the sergeant if I can borrow a police car and driver to take you home.’

‘Home?’ She stared at him blankly.

‘Graig Avenue,’ he suggested gently.

‘Alun’s already married,’ she repeated dully, trying to digest the enormity of what he was telling her.

‘Yes.’

‘Then the ceremony yesterday?’

‘Doesn’t mean anything, love.’

‘The wedding certificate?’

‘Isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on.’

She began to laugh. A high-pitched giggle that bordered on hysteria.

‘Please, love, don’t take on so.’

She bent her head and kissed Huw’s bristly cheek. ‘I’m not married?’

‘No,’ he replied, bewildered by her reaction.

‘Uncle Huw, you’re a wonderful, wonderful man. Don’t look at me like that,’ she commanded between gales of laughter. ‘Can’t you see how hilarious this all is?’

*      *      *

True to his word, Huw took charge of everything. He suggested that she pack all her belongings before they left the house, and carried her case out to the waiting police car. Alun, he assured her had gone ahead in a police van. He steered her thoughtfully through the procedure at the station, oiling the formalities with several cups of sickly sweet strong tea. He sat with her while she made her statement, explaining every detail in simple terms that could be easily understood even by her, in her shocked state. He parried the sergeant’s suggestion that she should see Alun, allowing her to make her own response.

It was swift and decisive.

‘If I never see Alun Jones again it will be too soon.’

The policemen who overheard her shook their heads knowingly. They saw a beautiful, wronged woman smarting from hurt pride. Not one of them realised she genuinely felt indifferent towards Alun and his fate. But she didn’t see, care for or solicit their sympathy. All she could think of was that she was in possession of her own life again. She had her freedom. Penniless, pregnant, it danced ahead of her, a glittering spectre that brightened her future. At that moment she failed to see the other ghosts crowding in the wings. The shades of hunger, shame and destitution.

‘Dad, please, do the rights and wrongs matter?’ Bethan pleaded wearily. ‘What’s done is done. Can I or can I not come home?’

‘Of course you can, Beth,’ Evan said, ashamed of himself for keeping her and Huw talking in the passage when by the look of her all she needed was her bed. ‘I’ll carry your case upstairs.’

‘Will you take a cup of tea with us, Constable Griffiths?’ Elizabeth asked as Evan left the room, struggling to remember her manners after suffering the trauma of having Bethan walk through the door with a policeman in tow, who told tales of Alun Jones and bigamy.

‘I won’t if you don’t mind, Mrs Powell,’ Huw refused, trying not to show too much interest in the cuts and bruises on Elizabeth’s face. ‘I’ve got to get back to the station. We’ll probably need you in court, Bethan, you know that. But it won’t be for a few weeks yet.’

Bethan sank wearily on to a kitchen chair and nodded. ‘Thank you for bringing me home, Uncle Huw.’

‘That’s all right, love. Mrs Powell. Evan.’ He passed Evan in the passage on his way out.

‘Uncle Huw!’ Bethan ran after him.

‘Yes, love?’

‘Have you seen, Auntie Megan?’

‘Yes. Last week.’

‘How is she?’

‘As well as can be expected,’ he said uneasily, conscious of Elizabeth’s disapproving eye in the background.

‘She is still in Cardiff prison, isn’t she? They’re not going to move her?’

‘Not as far as I know.’

‘Next time you see her, tell her I’ll be in to see her as soon as I can,’ Bethan said, not even considering Elizabeth’s wishes. For the first time in her life she was thinking only of herself. Of how much she wanted to talk over what had happened to her with someone who would understand. She knew of no one who would understand better than Megan.

‘We’ll both go and see her,’ Evan echoed. ‘I’ll see you out, Huw.’

‘Just one more thing, Uncle Huw,’ Bethan smiled. ‘Thank Mrs Bennett for me.’

‘Who’s Mrs Bennett?’ Evan asked mystified.

‘Perhaps you’d like to tell him, Uncle Huw.’ Bethan said as she returned to the kitchen.

Elizabeth was standing in front of the tiny window staring blankly at the Richards’ garden.

‘I’m sorry, Mam.’ Bethan apologised, closing the door behind her.

‘What for?’ Elizabeth asked coldly. ‘This has all worked out to your advantage. You never wanted to marry Alun Jones in the first place.’

‘No I didn’t. But if he hadn’t already had a wife, you would have gained what you wanted most of all. A respectably married daughter.’

‘Would that have been so terrible?’ Elizabeth demanded, turning to face her. ‘Tell me, what are we going to do now? No money coming into the house. You having to give up work with a bastard to keep …’

‘I’ll tell you what we’re going to do, Elizabeth,’ Evan said harshly as he opened the kitchen door. ‘We’re going to survive. It’s high time I carried the responsibilities for this family. I’m going back to work, and I’m going to bring in a living wage.’

‘You –’ Elizabeth began to sneer, then a gleam in Evan’s eye stopped her in her tracks. Her face was still smarting from the blow he’d given her the night before. She didn’t want to risk pushing him into giving her another.

‘I’m going into business,’ he announced bluntly.

‘Doing what, Dad?’ Bethan ventured.

‘Tatting.’

‘Rag and bone man!’ Elizabeth’s blood ran cold at the thought of her husband shouting in the streets for people’s rubbish.

‘It’s a perfectly legal and respectable occupation.’

‘I’ll never be able to hold my head up again.’

‘That’s as maybe,’ Evan said unconcerned. ‘But while you’re staring in the gutter you’ll be looking over a full belly.’

‘And that’s all that matters to you?’

‘At this moment, woman, I can’t think of anything that matters more.’ He turned his back on his wife and looked to Bethan. ‘It’s good to have you home, snookems,’ he said feelingly.

‘It’s good to be home.’ She hugged her father and went to her mother.

Elizabeth stood grim-faced and rigid, ready to repulse any show of emotion. Bethan pecked her withered cheek, opened the door and left the room.

‘Where are you going to get the money from, Dad?’ Haydn asked Evan a few days later.

Everyone except Elizabeth sat huddled around the range, trying to siphon off some of the warmth it radiated into their chilled bodies.

‘Charlie’s offered to lend me a fiver,’ Evan said. ‘He’s a good mate.’

‘Will you need as much as that, Dad?’ Bethan asked, afraid that her father was plunging into more debt than he could afford on her account.

‘I hope not.’ Evan stretched out his legs and put his pipe into his mouth. He hadn’t bought any tobacco since the pit had closed, but old habits die hard and he still pulled it and his empty pouch out of his pocket every time he sat in front of the fire. ‘I’ve taken ten bob off him to start with, that should see us right for a week. It’s only sixpence a day to hire a Shire horse and cart down Factory Lane. So tomorrow morning bright and early, Eddie and me will be down there picking out the best they have to offer.’

‘So many people have tried tatting, Dad,’ Bethan ventured prudently.

‘Not where Dad and I are going to try, Beth,’ Eddie said enthusiastically. ‘We’re not going round here. We’re going where the crache live. They’re the ones who can afford to throw out old for new.’

‘And if we can’t find any saleable junk tatting, we’ll offer to cart garden rubbish away,’ Evan suggested.

‘Or move furniture,’ Eddie chipped in.

‘Powell and Sons, no carting job too big,’ Haydn murmured.

‘Or too small,’ Evan said philosophically.

‘Don’t forget, Beth, I’m still working on Wilf Horton’s stall as well as the Town Hall.’

‘And you’ve got a week’s money to come, Beth,’ her father smiled.

‘And we haven’t got Maud to worry about any more,’ Haydn added, thinking back to the tearful scene that morning when he and William had put Maud and Diana on the Cardiff train.

‘If she sticks it in the Royal Infirmary,’ Bethan commented.

‘She’ll stick it,’ Haydn said firmly. ‘She’s like you. Stubborn little thing.’

‘Charming.’

‘So you see Miss Pessimist, there’s no problem. The finances of the Powell family are all worked out, and you and my grandson are going to want for nothing,’ Evan said firmly.

‘We’ve also got money coming in from our new lodgers.’ Haydn left his chair and began to stack the dirty plates on the table.

‘Mam let that room out quick,’ Bethan said in surprise.

‘Mam didn’t. I did.’ Evan leaned forward in his chair. ‘Will’s had to give up Megan’s house now the pit’s closed. Sam’s moving on but Charlie’s staying. He and Will are going to share the front room.’

‘What is Mam going to say about that?’ Bethan looked from Haydn to her father.

‘The same she said about my tatting,’ Evan said carelessly. ‘Nothing. Right, it’s nearly six. I’m off out.’

‘To see a man about a dog?’ Eddie winked at Haydn.

‘Something like that. Who’s going to clear up before your mother gets back from Uncle Joe’s?’ Evan asked.

‘Not me, I have to get to work.’ Haydn reached for the mug holding the toothbrushes.

‘So do I,’ Bethan picked up her veil from the back of her chair.

‘And I have to get to the gym,’ Eddie protested.

‘That settles it. You can do with one less sparring match. We lose our jobs if we’re late,’ Haydn pointed out logically.

‘That’s not fair,’ Eddie complained.

‘I can see we’re going to miss Maud more than we thought,’ Evan mused. ‘You did say you were giving up work at the end of next week, Beth?’