you to put a cushion on the floor for me. Youâve saved my toes from dropping off, with the cold coming up from the flags. I suffer enough bone ache as it is.â
âHow do you know Rhiannon did it?â Hetty asked. âIt might have been me or Vi.â
âNo fear of that.â Mrs Jones pulled on her stockings. âNeither of you would think of anything so kind.â
âOh, I forgot,â Hetty said. âOur Rhiannon is perfect, isnât she? How can we hope to live up to her?â
âNo,â Mrs Jones said severely. âRhiannon is not perfect but sheâs a kind, thoughtful girl and you two would do well to learn from her.â
âHow to please the men, you mean?â Hetty said, and Violet nudged her arm in an effort to shut her up.
âOh, youâve heard, then?â Mrs Jonesâs voice was heavy with sarcasm.
âHeard what, Mrs Jones?â Hetty was grinning.
âHeard that Rhiannon was once Bull Beynonâs woman and lived in a hut on the side of the railway track.â Mrs Jones rested her arms on the table and stared across at the two girls. âLook at home before you judge folk.â
âI donât know what you mean,â Violet said huffily. âIâm a respectable girl and so is Hetty.â
âWell, for a start Hetty was an early baby, and we all know what that means, donât we?â
Violet stared at her, blinking rapidly. â
I
donât know what it means, Mrs Jones.â
âIt means her mam and dad had a shotgun wedding. And you, Vi, your father ran off with Joe the Milkâs daughter when you were a baby. Your mam calls herself a respectable widow and we all keep quiet about that.â She sank back in her chair. âDonât forget that Iâve lived in Swansea all my life, worked in a dozen houses, some big, some not so big, and I hear any gossip that goes around. Iâd go so far as to say I hear the gossip before everybody else.â
Violet looked down at her hands and Hetty was biting her lip, her cheeks flushed bright red. Rhiannon felt almost sorry for the girls but they had only got what they deserved.
The next few hours flashed by in a whirl of activity. Supper was served, course by course, and it seemed as if the meal would go on all night. But at last the well-dressed guests had finished and slowly began to drift into the other rooms, leaving the table littered with napkins and empty plates.
Rhiannon sighed. There was a mountain of dishes to be washed â sheâd be lucky to get to bed by midnight.
When she returned at last to the kitchen she saw that Mrs Jonesâs plump arms were folded over her ample bosom. âNow then,â she said, âyou two girls can see to the dishes. Me and Rhiannon done most of the cooking and carrying.â
Hetty claimed her back was aching but Mrs Jones soon put her in her place. âDonât you think weâre all tired, girl?â She shook her head. âI donât know what you think you get your wages for but itâs not turning your nose up at doing dishes.â
âAll right, then, donât go on about it.â Hetty glared at her but vanished into the back kitchen.
âRiddle out the fire, Rhiannon,â Mrs Jones said, âand then you can go up to bed. You look fair washed out.â
The next day, after luncheon, Mrs Buchan sent for Rhiannon.
âGood Lord!â Mrs Jones frowned. âWhat can she want with you?â
âOnly one way to find out.â Rhiannon undid her apron. âIâve got a funny feeling that Hetty has a hand in this.â
âWhyâs that? I know sheâs a cheeky little madam but I donât think sheâd go running to Mrs Buchan with tittle-tattle.â
âWeâll see.â Rhiannon made her way up the stone steps towards the hallway, her mind racing. What was she going to do if she was dismissed? Where would she go? She would never find a
Major Dick Winters, Colonel Cole C. Kingseed