Paradise Park (23 page)

‘I won't be long.'

While Rhiannon waited for him to return she looked round the corridors and peered into a few rooms to see how they were decorated. Mostly the paper was of a silky appearance in discreet colours that blended with the furnishings. It would do well for the Paradise Park.

It was almost half an hour later that the caretaker returned. He had dust on his cheek and some rolls of paper under his arm. ‘There's quite a lot down there, too much to carry,' he said. ‘In any case, I'd have to move it in the dark.'

Rhiannon nodded. ‘What if I give you some money now, as a gesture of good faith, and the rest when you bring it over to the Paradise Park?'

‘Aye, can't see anything wrong with that.'

Rhiannon tipped some coins on to the desk then held out her hand. ‘We'll shake hands on the deal, shall we?'

‘Aye.' He took her hand briefly, then stepped back as if fearing she might attack him.

‘I'll see you later on tonight, then,' she said. ‘Meet me at the back door of the hotel and if I like the goods I'll give you the rest of the money.'

‘No, you give me the rest of the money whether you like the paper or not. I'll have gone to a lot of trouble, mind.'

Rhiannon nodded. ‘All right. See you later on.'

She felt triumphant as she left the hotel. At least she'd set the ball rolling. A smile curved her lips. And she had seen Bull, he had held her hands and promised to help her. That showed he still cared. Didn't it?

Sal stood in the darkened back hallway, staring up at the steward in alarm. ‘What do you want, Mr Glover, sir? I got duties to attend to.'

‘Never mind that. Now, you know what I can do for you here in Mr Morton-Edwards's house, don't you, girl?'

Glover moved closer, trapping Sal against the cold, whitewashed wall.

‘I'm sorry, sir, I don't know what you mean.' Sal began to tremble.

‘Don't play the innocent with me, girl! I know what you used to be – a common trollop peddling yourself to anyone who had the price of a bed for the night.' He pinched her breast and she yelped.

‘Now, come on, I can be nasty to you or I can be really good – I can get you all the easy jobs.' He took her hand and looked at the red, roughened skin and the broken nails. ‘You could have hands like a lady, girl, wouldn't that be nice?'

‘I've stopped doing all that, sir.' Sal looked up at the man's red face and cruel mouth. She didn't mind a bit of fun but she knew in her bones that lying with Glover would be anything but that.

‘Don't that appeal to you, girl? A nice soft job here with me looking after you?'

‘Not if it meant putting up with your pestering.' Sal tried to push him away but Glover held her fast.

‘Don't be silly! What's another man after all those you've had?' He was crushing her against the wall, his hand between her legs.

Sal realized she would have to be cunning to get away from him. ‘All right, but not here where we might get caught.'

He fumbled in her bodice, his thumb and finger twisting her nipple. ‘Where, then?'

‘I'll finish my chores and come to your room after, sir. Would that be all right?'

There was a sound from the kitchen and Glover moved away from her. ‘Do that, girl. I'll leave my door open for you.' He touched her cheek but his fingers were hard. ‘And don't think you can play me fast and loose because if I don't get what I want from you tonight you'll be out in the streets tomorrow.'

‘Mrs Buchan wouldn't let you throw me out,' Sal said quickly.

‘Oh, but Mrs Buchan wouldn't know anything about it until it was too late. In any case, she'll be running off to her lover before long, the whore! Now, come to my room later, or first thing in the morning before anyone else is up I'll throw you out myself.' He forced his mouth down on hers and Sal resisted the urge to gag. At last he released her. ‘Do you understand?' he asked.

‘Yes, sir,' Sal said, and Glover eased himself away from her. ‘I'll see you later, sir,' she said softly.

Once Glover had disappeared Sal rushed up the back staircase to her room and wrapped her few possessions into a bundle. She would have to leave. Happy as she was working for Mrs Buchan, she knew that Glover could make her life hell, and if Mrs Buchan left, as he had said she would, what would become of her then? Better to run away than service Glover whenever he demanded it.

Sal crept down the stairs, pushed back the bolts on the huge door and then she was running free, towards the only place she knew: the streets of Swansea Town.

AS BULL LEFT
the railway station and began to walk home his thoughts were on Rhiannon. He remembered the feel of her hands in his, the dark lustre of her hair, and the look in her beautiful eyes as she gazed up at him. He had to admit that he felt desire for her – but, then, any man would when confronted with such loveliness. So why did he feel guilty? In admiring her and offering to help he was just being a friend, wasn't he?

He'd proved his friendship by finding a few navvies willing to work for her at the hotel and Seth Cullen, in particular, had jumped at the chance to be earning money again. He might be handicapped but he was still a fit young man and, somehow, since the day of the accident Bull had felt responsible for him.

As he turned into the gateway of his house, his spirits lifted at the thought of his wife and his child. He opened the door and the scene that greeted him almost brought tears to his eyes. Katie was kneeling on the floor with the baby, who was gurgling away happily as he stared at the flickering fire.

‘Hello, love.' Katie turned her face up for his kiss. ‘You're early, not that I'm complaining.'

Bull took his son in his arms and kissed the top of his head. The baby snuggled into his neck and love filled Bull's heart.

‘Had a good day, Bull?' Katie scrambled to her feet and put her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. They were so close, a little threesome, all that Bull wanted in the world.

‘Aye, good enough,' he said. ‘I saw Seth Cullen in town and he's so grateful that I found him a job he wanted to take me to the Cornish Mount and buy me a drink.'

‘Oh, you didn't tell me you'd got the poor man a job, Bull. No wonder he's pleased, what with his bad leg and all. How did that come about?'

Bull released her and looked away. ‘Rhiannon asked me to find men to work at the hotel for her.'

Katie sat in her chair, her hands folded in her lap. ‘What hotel is this?'

Bull sat opposite her. ‘I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. I saw Rhiannon the other day, she's got herself a place working at the Paradise Park.'

‘Good for her. Is she getting over being locked up in gaol?'

‘She seems well enough, but Rhiannon is a strong woman. It would take more than a few setbacks to break her spirit.' He fell silent. Rhiannon . . . why did her name always come into his mind? He must be careful or she would come between him and the wife he loved.

‘What are you thinking about, Bull?' Katie said softly. ‘You've gone far away from me to somewhere I can't reach you.'

‘Just work, love. Why do you ask?'

She looked away from him. ‘You seem to be thinking a lot about Rhiannon these days, that's all. Not that I'm jealous, mind, I know you love me and the baby and you wouldn't let anyone come between us.'

‘Look at me, Katie,' he said. ‘You are my wife and I do love you. No one is going to come between us, so don't you ever think that.'

‘I couldn't blame you for thinking about Rhiannon, Bull, she was part of your life before I came along.' She paused. ‘And I have to admit she's beautiful – she could turn any man's head.'

Bull got up and took her in his arms. ‘But not mine. I chose to marry you, didn't I, Katie?'

‘Yes, Bull, and I'll always be grateful for that.' She put her soft arms around his neck. ‘Now I'd better get my working man a good meal before he beats me for being a bad wife.'

Bull watched as she moved towards the fire and heaved the big pot of stew onto the flames. The appetizing aroma of lamb
cawl
filled the kitchen and Bull took a deep breath: he was the luckiest man in the world, he had a fine wife, a strong, healthy son, and a good career ahead of him. So why when he closed his eyes did he see the face of the woman who had once been his lover?

Rhiannon let herself in through the back door of the Paradise Park and put her hand over her mouth as she tried not to cough. The workmen were moving out the worn furniture that had once stood in the foyer and there was dust everywhere. She spotted Seth Cullen, who was directing the rest of the navvies, and raised her hand to him in greeting. She stepped over a pile of gaudy paper that had been stripped from the walls and made for the back stairs.

‘Thank goodness you've come home, girl.' Mrs Paisley was seated in her favourite chair near the window that looked over the busy street. ‘The navvies are asking for more money. They didn't think that work in a hotel was going to be so hard – well, that's what they're saying.'

‘They're trying it on. I'll have a word with them – they'll listen to me,' Rhiannon said.

‘See?' Mrs Paisley's face brightened. ‘I knew you'd be invaluable, didn't I?' She patted Rhiannon's hand. ‘You know, I've realized how lucky I am to have you working with me. You have beauty and intelligence, and that's a rare combination.'

Rhiannon smiled. ‘My past has made me wise to a lot of things, Mrs Paisley, especially when handling men. I'll make the navvies so glad to have a job that they'll work with a will, you'll see.'

Mrs Paisley began to cough, a harsh sound that worried Rhiannon. ‘Shall I get your medicine?' She went to the cupboard and picked up the brown bottle, but it was empty. ‘I'll nip out and get some more. You can't go all night without it – you'll never sleep.'

Mrs Paisley nodded gratefully. ‘All right, but don't be long.' The sentence ended in another fit of coughing and Rhiannon brought her a glass of water. ‘Sip this slowly and I'll be back before you know it.'

Rhiannon retraced her steps down the stairs and stood for a moment looking at the navvies, who suddenly seemed very busy. ‘Listen, boys,' Rhiannon said, ‘I want to talk to you when I get back so I'll thank you all to be here.'

‘You're not going to sack us, are you, Rhiannon?' Seth Cullen looked at her anxiously.

‘That's something I'll have to think about. If you're not content with the fair wages you're getting I might have to find other workers.'

She let herself out of the building, chuckling to herself at the startled look on the men's faces. When she came back she would give them a good talking-to, and they would listen to her with respect.

She waited in the shop as the medicine for Mrs Paisley was made up and, as always when she had a spare moment, she thought of Bull. She forced herself to look at the shelves in the shop, concentrating on the bottles of strange-sounding mixtures. She didn't want to think of Bull – she could never have him in her arms again.

As she went back to the hotel she practised what she was going to say to the workmen. She was determined they would do a fair day's work for the money they earned.

She turned the corner into Potato Street and collided with a woman laden with two heavy bags. ‘Sorry!' She took a step back and then she looked more closely at the woman. ‘Mrs Jones, what on earth are you doing out and about?'

‘Oh, Rhiannon, it's you. My heart almost stopped when you bumped into me – I thought I was going to be robbed.'

‘But why aren't you working?'

‘I've been dismissed. I told Mr Buchan a few home truths and he didn't like it. Sent me packing, he did. I've spent a few weeks at Dai Evans's lodging-house but I've run out of money now so I'm on the street.'

‘Oh, Mrs Jones, I'm so lucky to have met you when I need a cook for the hotel.'

‘What you talking about, girl? What hotel is this?'

‘I'm working at the Paradise Park. It's going to be respectable, a fine hotel again, and I need good staff to make the place a success.'

‘Do you mean it, Rhiannon? Have you really got a job for me? I'm a bit old to be wandering the streets.'

‘Well, you can come back to the hotel with me right now, if you like.'

‘If I like? You're an angel from heaven, girl. I was going to spend the night under the viaduct and I wasn't looking forward to it, I can tell you.'

Rhiannon took one of the bags from Mrs Jones and began to walk slowly towards the hotel. ‘What about Sal? Is she all right?'

‘I don't know what happened to Sal, girl. She might be back on the streets by now, for all I know.'

‘I'll look for her later on,' Rhiannon said. ‘I think I know the sort of places she might go to.' Places where she herself had looked for trade.

Rhiannon took Mrs Jones in through the front door of the hotel and led her to a back room that had been cleared of rubbish. It was small and bare but clean, and the bed was made up with fresh sheets. ‘Will you be all right here, Mrs Jones? There are candles in the drawer and I'll light a fire for you later on.'

The old woman sank onto the bed and Rhiannon felt sad that she should have been discarded after years of service as though she was an old mop. Well, Rhiannon would make sure she didn't end her days the same way. She meant to carve out a career for herself; to be respectable and well placed, and the Paradise Park was the key to her future.

Later, when the men working on the hotel had been dealt with, Rhiannon went out looking for Sal. She made her way through the town, pausing where the light spilled out of the open doorways of inns and men would be looking for the company of a woman to while away the dark hours of the night. She eventually made her way to the Strand, where the Fountain Inn stood squat and rambling, but there was no sign of Sal and no one had seen a young girl roaming the streets looking for trade.