A Place of Meadows and Tall Trees by Clare Dudman Read Free Book Online

childlike unselfconsciousness about the man and if he is aware that he is the object of Edwyn’s ridcule, he doesn’t show it.
    Edwyn Lloyd begins to sort the men into groups. ‘So... yes, how about you, Mr Rees? Could you be spared, do you think? Good man. And your brother? Yes, that’s right…’
    Edwyn Lloyd, Silas notices, has two smiles: a sudden grin for public consumption and one that is more like a spreading of his lips which is only for himself. This private smile is smug, small, almost hidden beneath his beard and betrayed only by slight changes in the flesh adjacent to his nose. He smiles this private smile now as his eyes sweep over the men before him. It remains on his face as he turns to where one man is actually trying to catch his attention with a small wave of his hand. His smile broadens as he pretends to miss him. ‘Is no one else willing to be part of the advance? Are you sure? How disappointing.’ The man waves more vigorously and makes small coughs, and Edwyn’s private smile expands. Only on the third pass of his eyes does Edwyn pretend to look startled. ‘And you Mr Griffiths?’ His surprise is staged, obviously overdone, and around him some of the other men smile too.
    â€˜How very kind. Yes, thank you, Jacob. Now we can all be assured that the party will be in safe hands.’ His voice now has a slight sneer about it but Jacob seems oblivious of both this and the snigger of the men around him. He seems to hear just what suits him. As soon as Edwyn used his Christian name, Jacob seemed to become larger. He looked around him and smiled triumphantly at Silas. Now he steps forward eagerly, grinning at Edwyn who nods and grins his public smile back.
    â€˜When are we going, Edwyn?’
    â€˜Ah, I had tomorrow in mind. Unfortunately, I shall be unable to come with you myself. My work is here for now, with my wife.’ He looks around, balances on his toes so he can see over their heads, then he motions someone forward. A slightly built, pale-faced woman picks her way between them. She is in her mid twenties, brown hair scraped into a small hat, and with symmetrical, even, small features that seem to Silas to be almost completely inexpressive. If she were more lively she’d be a beauty, he thinks, but as it is she looks defeated. There is something in the way her body droops that betrays exhaustion. Her clothes look expensive but well worn: a heavy dark-green skirt and blouse of wool, and a shawl with a subdued paisely pattern wrapped tightly on top.
    â€˜It’s been hard work, so far, hasn’t it, cariad ?’
    Cecilia Lloyd nods seriously.
    â€˜We almost felt like giving up some of the time, didn’t we?’
    She nods again. For a few seconds her eyes seem to travel passively over the faces around her and then they slip smoothly back to the floor. Vacant, Silas thinks, nothing there, and he wonders if she is truly as stupid as she seems.
    â€˜Ah Captain!’ Edwyn calls out in English, ‘here, if you please.’
    Silas looks up with interest. He can’t imagine that the thug of the Mimosa ’s captain would respond happily to a command, but even Gidsby seems under Edwyn Lloyd’s spell. He comes through the crowd of men meekly when summoned, listens carefully to what Edwyn says then responds quietly. Silas tries to match the voice he hears speaking to Edwyn with the one he remembers on board the Mimosa , but fails. The voice in his head, the one he heard so frequently on the voyage, was uncouth and aggressive with such a vocabulary of swear words that he made Jacob blanch. But to Edwyn Lloyd, Captain Gidsby’s tone is mild and civil. He appears to be explaining the workings of the compass with some patience, although Edwyn has the condescending air of someone listening to an idiot. They confer quietly in English for a few moments before Edwyn passes on his instructions in Welsh. ‘He says you have to just