Tiger Bay Blues (7 page)

‘Stay here, Uncle Victor, Auntie Megan.’ Harry finished his beer. ‘I’ll find the boys for you.’

‘I can see the smoke wafting over the shrubs by the gate the same as you, Harry.’ Victor squeezed Megan’s waist lightly.

‘Let me at least go down there and warn them that you’re on your way.’ Harry set his glass on the table.

‘You’re not one of the kids any more, Harry. Not now you have one and a half of your own. A grown-up’s job is to stop kids from having fun.’ Joey looked down at Ruth who was still fast asleep on his lap.

‘I’m trying to take over from where Granddad left off. Not that I could hope to fill an inch of his shoes,’ Harry said ruefully. ‘But he never allowed anyone to get caught doing something they shouldn’t at a family party.’

‘Possibly because he was usually the one instigating the naughtiness,’ Sali recalled fondly. Lloyd’s father had died four years ago, yet everyone in the family who was old enough to remember him still missed him, especially at get-togethers at Christmas, weddings and christenings.

‘Please, stay and have another drink,’ Lloyd pressed the musicians, who were leaving their seats. ‘Don’t feel that you have to go, just because we’re sending the children to bed.’

‘It’s a long drive back to Butetown, and as it’s my van we’re using and I have to be up early tomorrow to take services; it’s high time we left.’ Micah Holsten picked up his saxophone case.

‘Take services?’ Harry questioned.

‘Micah is the Lutheran pastor at the Norwegian mission,’ Jed explained.

‘But we Catholics forgive him because he makes our kind of music,’ Tony joked.

‘And, as good Catholics, we also have to be up early. The wife insists on all of us going to first mass.’ Jed slipped a protective arm around Judy’s shoulders. ‘Thank you again for hiring us, Mr Evans.’

‘Thank you for making Bella’s day special. It certainly went with a swing.’ Lloyd shook Tony’s hand before slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out an envelope. ‘There’s extra in there to replace Miss Hamilton’s dress. I’m sorry our cook stained it.’ He repeated the story he, Sali and Jed had concocted to explain Judy’s change of outfit to the rest of the band and the guests.

‘There’s no need –’

‘Yes, there is,’ Sali said firmly. She kissed Judy’s cheek.

‘I’ll send this frock back.’

‘Please don’t,’ Edyth pressed. ‘It looks much better on you than me, and to tell the truth it was getting too tight for me.’

‘Too many of Mari’s chocolate puddings, miss,’ Joey teased. ‘Well, we all know where to come the next time we need a band.’ He stretched his hands above his head and yawned.

‘From the look of everyone, it’s just as well tomorrow’s Sunday.’ Rhian lifted Ruth from Joey’s lap.

‘I can’t see anyone in this house getting up for early mass or church,’ Lloyd commented.

Edyth didn’t contradict her father. But as she said her goodbyes to the musicians, and her uncles, aunts and cousins, she was already planning the outfit she would wear to the early church service at St Catherine’s in the morning.

Chapter Four

Judy Hamilton woke with a start the next morning when the church bells started ringing out over Tiger Bay. She threw back the bedclothes and shot out of bed. Hating mornings, especially after late nights, she’d taken the precaution of laying out a clean uniform, shoes, stockings and underclothes before she had left for the wedding the day before. Scooping them from the rickety wooden chair next to her bed, she ran down the uncarpeted wooden stairs into the kitchen.

Pearl, her grandmother, was up, dressed in her flowered work overall, and mixing oats in the porridge pan. The smell of soda hung, nose-stinging, in the air, the flagstone floor was damp from its morning scrubbing and the range gleamed with newly applied black lead.

‘Morning, Gran.’ Judy dumped her clothes on the only easy chair in the room.

‘You’ll do yourself an injury rushing around like that.’

‘I’m late.’

‘No, you’re not,’ Pearl contradicted. ‘It’s not half past seven yet. What time did you come home last night?’

‘A reasonable hour,’ Judy answered evasively.

‘I heard you and Jed talking at the door after midnight. But seeing as how Sunday’s your half-day, I suppose you can have a nap later.’

‘I will, Gran.’ Judy kissed her grandmother’s wrinkled cheek and went out the back. The family referred to Pearl King’s garden as a ‘cultivated wilderness’. The sprig of jasmine she had planted next to the

when she had moved into the house as a bride over sixty years before now covered the roof of the outhouse as well as the walls. Knee-

Chapter Four

Judy Hamilton woke with a start the next morning when the church bells started ringing out over Tiger Bay. She threw back the bedclothes and shot out of bed. Hating mornings, especially after late nights, she’d taken the precaution of laying out a clean uniform, shoes, stockings and underclothes before she had left for the wedding the day before. Scooping them from the rickety wooden chair next to her bed, she ran down the uncarpeted wooden stairs into the kitchen.

Pearl, her grandmother, was up, dressed in her flowered work overall, and mixing oats in the porridge pan. The smell of soda hung, nose-stinging, in the air, the flagstone floor was damp from its morning scrubbing and the range gleamed with newly applied black lead.

‘Morning, Gran.’ Judy dumped her clothes on the only easy chair in the room.

‘You’ll do yourself an injury rushing around like that.’

‘I’m late.’

‘No, you’re not,’ Pearl contradicted. ‘It’s not half past seven yet. What time did you come home last night?’

‘A reasonable hour,’ Judy answered evasively.

‘I heard you and Jed talking at the door after midnight. But seeing as how Sunday’s your half-day, I suppose you can have a nap later.’

‘I will, Gran.’ Judy kissed her grandmother’s wrinkled cheek and went out the back. The family referred to Pearl King’s garden as a ‘cultivated wilderness’. The sprig of jasmine she had planted next to the
ty bach
when she had moved into the house as a bride over sixty years before now covered the roof of the outhouse as well as the walls. Knee-high lavender bushes bordered both sides of the crazy paving path below the washing line, and clumps of poppies bloomed, adding splashes of crimson to the shadows beneath the garden walls.

Judy unhooked the tin bath from the back yard wall on her return from the
ty bach
, carried it into the washhouse and half-filled it with jugs of water that she drew from the cold tap set above the outside drain in the yard. She stripped off her nightgown, stepped into the water and washed as quickly as she could coax lather out of the carbolic soap in the freezing water. After drying herself, she dressed in her plain black cotton maid’s uniform. When she’d finished, she dragged the bath outside and emptied it down the drain before wiping it and returning it to the hook on the wall.

‘Breakfast is ready.’

‘Coming, Gran.’ She went into the back kitchen and sat at the wooden table, covered with a darned checked tablecloth which was older than her.

Her grandmother set a bowl filled with porridge in front of her. ‘I don’t see why Mrs Protheroe has to have you in on a Sunday.’

‘I keep telling you, Gran, she likes me to do the fires and make her dinner. I won’t be long; she only eats salads in summer.’

‘Everybody is entitled to one day off a week,’ Mrs King grumbled.

‘I had one yesterday,’ Judy reminded her.

‘From Mrs Protheroe, maybe, but it was no day off for you when you were out singing with Jed’s band all day.’

‘Singing’s fun, not work. You should have seen the wedding.’ Judy’s eyes sparkled as she concentrated on the early part of the day and pushed Charlie Moore’s attack from her mind. ‘The wedding breakfast was in a massive house and they’d put up a huge tent on the lawn. The food was out of this world. The family even laid a buffet in the kitchen for the helpers, including us. And the bride was stunning. Her frock was satin and all the bridesmaids were dressed in gold –’

‘And you’ll have threads hanging from your mouth if you talk any faster,’ her grandmother reproved.

‘It was a good day.’

‘You never have time to rest.’

‘I get more time off living out of Mrs Protheroe’s than I would have if I lived in. And the chance to eat breakfast with you every day.’ Judy sprinkled brown sugar on her porridge and began to eat.

Her grandmother poured a cup of tea, put sugar and a splash of milk in it, and set it next to Judy’s bowl. ‘Did you get paid yesterday for singing with the band?’

‘I put five pounds ten shillings in the box last night,’ Judy said proudly.

‘Where did you get that kind of money?’ Pearl frowned suspiciously.

‘Mr Evans, who hired the band, gave Jed five pounds plus petrol money for Mr Holsten’s van. My share was ten shillings.’

‘And the five pounds?’ her grandmother questioned suspiciously.

Judy hung her head. She hated telling lies but this was one that had to be told. ‘The housekeeper bumped into me and spilled red wine over my frock. It was ruined. Mr Evans insisted on paying me five pounds to replace it. And his daughter gave me a dress to wear home. She said I could keep it, but I’ll wash it and send it back.’

‘Good girl. They might be crache but it’s as well to show them that we don’t take charity. But five pounds is a lot of money for a frock. It didn’t cost you that much, did it?’

Judy shook her head. ‘You know me. I’ve never paid more than a pound for a dress in my life. I gave Anna Hughes ten shillings for that one. She said she was too fat to get into it.’

‘You stay away from that woman,’ Pearl warned severely.

‘She’s not so bad, Gran.’

‘The way she makes her money is. You don’t want to get tarred with her brush. A young girl like you just starting out in life can’t be too careful about the company she keeps.’

‘All I did was buy a frock from her. I wouldn’t have got it cheaper anywhere else.’ She spooned the last of her porridge into her mouth.

‘No wonder you never put on any weight the way you rush around. I’ll have dinner on the table at two. Mind you’re home to eat it.’

‘I will be, Gran.’ Judy carried her cup, saucer and bowl into the washhouse and stacked them on the wooden board next to the Belfast sink. She sprinkled a few drops of water from a glass on to a saucer of salt, worked it into a mixture with her toothbrush and cleaned her teeth. She combed her hair, checked her reflection perfunctorily in the mirror and left the house.

‘Back at two if not before,’ her grandmother shouted after her. ‘I’m cooking a beef heart.’

‘I’ll be home to eat it, Gran.’

The street was full of children dressed in their Sunday best. They were standing around kicking their heels because they’d been warned on pain of dire punishment to stay clean until it was time to walk to church.

Judy greeted them, stopped to admire one small girl’s new sandals and ran. If there was one thing Mrs Protheroe hated, it was her maid starting late in the morning, and it was a good mile from Tiger Bay to the quiet suburban street where her employer lived.

Peter Slater uttered the final ‘Amen’ of the service, faced the altar, bowed and led the procession of servers, candle-bearers, choirmaster and choir into the vestry. The moment the last and smallest boy in the choir closed the door that connected the vestry to the main body of the church, Peter opened the outside door and ran around the building so he could greet the congregation as they filed out of the porch.

More than a hundred worshippers had arrived to hear the first sermon he had preached in Pontypridd, and he had been surprised and gratified to see Edyth Evans among them.

He spoke to everyone in turn, introducing himself to the parishioners he hadn’t met and exchanging small talk with the ones he already knew. Three-quarters of an hour passed before he reached the end of the queue and he was acutely aware of Edyth’s presence in the church the whole time.

‘Reverend Price has told me a great deal about you, Mr Chubb, Mrs Chubb. I look forward to becoming better acquainted with both of you.’ He shook the hands of the frail, elderly couple, who had remained in their pew until the crowd had dissipated. ‘Hello again,’ his smile widened when Edyth finally reached him, ‘You were the last person I expected to see here this morning. I assumed that all your family would be catching up on their sleep after the excitement of yesterday.’

Edyth hoped he hadn’t noticed she’d deliberately hung back and talked to the Chubbs so she would be the last in the queue. ‘None of us were in bed that late, Peter. After Bella and Toby left for Cardiff station, most of the wedding guests went home.’

‘But the rest of your family didn’t come with you this morning.’

‘My sisters will be attending Evensong with my mother. I won’t be able to join them because I promised my brother I’d look after his daughter so he and his wife can dine with the family solicitor.’ It was the truth, but Edyth hoped he didn’t suspect that she wouldn’t have contemplated attending the early service if the Reverend Price had been officiating.

‘Then I’ll look forward to renewing my acquaintance with your mother and sisters this evening when I assist Reverend Price.’

‘I enjoyed your sermon.’ She had, and tried not to sound gushing. ‘The Book of Ruth is one of my favourites. The words are poignant and so poetic. “For whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, thy God my God”.’

‘I think the book has particular relevance to Wales. Given how few people lived in this country, and especially the valleys before the coal mines were sunk, I doubt there is a family here without at least one foreign-born or English member, if not in their present, then in a previous generation. And just as King David’s Moabite grandmother, Ruth, precluded him from being born of pure stock, so do the Irish, English, Spanish and others who came to the valleys and intermarried with the Welsh.’

‘I’ve never thought of it, but you’re right. My father’s mother was Spanish, although I never knew her. She died before my parents met.’

‘As you probably gathered from my sermon, I deplore nationalism when it preaches superiority. My mother is English and I was teased unmercifully at my primary school because my accent wasn’t the same as my classmates’.’

‘My father taught us that tolerance takes precedence over religion and nationalism.’ Edyth opened her handbag and took out her handkerchief, not because she wanted it, but because Peter’s steady gaze was unsettling her.

‘I wish there’d been parents like him in Swansea when I’d been growing up.’ He ran his fingers through his thick black hair. ‘I’m afraid I’m petty-minded enough still to resent the bullying I was subjected to. I’m sorry,’ he apologised, ‘I didn’t mean to bore you with a lecture.’

‘You are not boring me. I enjoy discussions, especially theological ones, which is why I opted to study religion along with English and history in the sixth form.’ She noticed that his brown eyes looked even darker in the gloom of the stone porch.

‘Are you looking forward to going to teacher training college?’

‘The place is conditional on my matriculating. The results aren’t out yet.’

‘I’m sure that an intelligent girl like you has passed.’

‘And I’m not at all sure I have.’

But it wasn’t that she was unsure about her examination results; without being over-confident, she was fairly certain she’d passed. It was her choice of college and career that she had mixed feelings about. Some days, she felt as though she couldn’t wait to get to Swansea and begin studying; other days she was reluctant to even think about leaving her family and Pontypridd. And now there was Peter. ‘My maths leaves a lot to be desired.’

‘You intend to teach religious education?’

‘If I qualify it will be as a primary school teacher, so I’ll be expected to teach a little of everything.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘But I’m not looking forward to teaching science or maths. They’ve always been my weakest subjects, although they were my father’s strongest. He was a mining engineer before he became an MP.’

‘Reverend Price told me he was a member of the Communist party.’

‘He has been elected as a Labour MP.’ Edyth was instantly on the defensive. ‘Reverend Price is aware that he is an atheist. My father has never made a secret of his beliefs to his family, friends or constituents.’

‘I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise,’ Peter said hastily. ‘Reverend Price told me that he is one of the most charitable and moral men in the town.’

‘My father insists his principles stem from the precepts laid down by Karl Marx, although he will concede that some are similar to Biblical teachings.’ Edyth smarted at what she took to be an implied criticism of her adored father. ‘Thank you again for the sermon, Peter. Good morning.’ She walked out into the sunshine that dappled the trees.

He ran after her. ‘Edyth, I apologise if I have upset you. I only mentioned Communism because I am appallingly ignorant about Marxism, which I cannot afford to be with so many miners living in the parish. Do you think that if I asked him, your father would explain Marx’s philosophy to me?’

‘My father frequently addresses open political meetings and chairs political discussions.’

‘Would you be kind enough to let me know when he next speaks publicly, so I can make every effort to attend?’ He gave her a conciliatory smile.

‘I will.’

He nodded to the verger who was heading for the church to tidy the hymnals and hassocks before the next service. ‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting a few minutes while I change out of this surplice, it would be a pleasure to walk you home.’

Edyth hesitated. He had apologised for his remarks. And, like everyone in her family, she was over-sensitive when it came to their father’s politics. With good reason, because they were always meeting people outside of the mining and working classes who were hostile towards Socialism, and regarded Marxism as heathen, ungodly and – because of what had happened in Russia thirteen years before – incendiary, destructive and revolutionary.

‘I wish I could take back my words.’ He gave her one of his heart-melting smiles. ‘Please, tell me what more I can say to make amends, and I’ll say it.’

‘I’ll wait for you to change so you can walk me home,’ she conceded.

‘And on the way perhaps you’ll tell me about the local beauty spots. I am a keen walker. Reverend Price has mentioned that there are several interesting sights in and around Pontypridd.’

‘There are.’

‘I don’t suppose you would you consider showing some of them to me?’

She had been right yesterday; he was the handsomest man she had ever seen. And it would be so easy to fall in love with him the way Bella had Toby …