7

In the year 1899 Owen won a scholarship to the County School. Since there were only six scholarships to be had at that time, and since he was competing against the children from the town and had to write in English, this was quite a feat. Owen had set his heart on going to the County School, but felt after sitting the exam that he had no hope of getting in. He was one of those children who had no confidence in himself in an examination, or as the neighbours said, ‘there was no get up and go in him.’ For months beforehand he had been worried, not about the exam itself, but about the things surrounding it: where was the entrance to the School, where would he sit, how would he ask for more paper. He didn’t sleep much the night before. He admired the other boys’ nonchalant attitude as they walked to town on that morning. But as he found out dozens of times later in his life, the whole thing wasn’t half as bad as he had expected.

One Saturday afternoon towards the end of July, a rumour came through the neighbourhood that he had won a scholarship. The news was brought by the people who travelled on the brake from town. The brake went to town and back three times a week. On Saturdays it went in four times and when it came back at midday Morgan Huws, the owner of the brake, told someone that he had spoken to somebody who had heard from the clerk to the governors of the County School that Owen was at the top of the list of boys who had gained a place. Owen heard the news while he was in the village and he ran home like lightning, collapsing in a heap on a chair when he got there. Achieving his goal on the first attempt was all too much for him.

There was no one in the house except his mother, and when she heard the news she was astonished, since for so many years, she felt, things had gone against her rather than in her favour. For a minute she was unable to take in what had happened. When she began to come to herself, so many things flashed through her mind that she couldn’t say a word. One minute she felt herself swelling up with pride that it was her child who had won the scholarship; the next minute her heart sank as she thought that Ifan might be disappointed. Wages at the quarry were exceptionally low, and the head of every household these days was glad to have his son go to the quarry with him; they then got a chance to increase their own wages by staying behind to work with their boys. She also had the notion that it would cost considerably more to send Owen to the County School than to the Primary School. Owen’s voice broke through her thoughts.

‘Aren’t you pleased, mam?’

‘Yes, it’s just that I’m thinking it over.’

‘Thinking what over?’

‘What will your father say?’

‘Why, what will he have to say?’

‘He could make you go to the quarry.’

This possibility had not even dawned on Owen.

‘Why?’

‘Perhaps we won’t have the means to send you to the Middle School.’

‘But you don’t need money because I’ve won the scholarship.’

‘No, but you see, perhaps your father will want you to go to the quarry so as to earn some money.’

Owen fell silent. He had not thought that anyone would object. And once more, he became downhearted as he saw himself facing what he would later call a financial problem.

His father came home, and didn’t look much happier than his mother had been at the news. He was doubtful whether the news was true. His mother roused herself.

‘Ifan,’ she said, ‘you go to town and find out if it’s true. It’s a while since you were there. You go too, Owen.’

‘No, I don’t want to go,’ said Owen.

‘You don’t want to go to town!’

‘No, I’d rather stay at home. Maybe the news isn’t true.’

At any other time Owen would have jumped at the chance. But going to town to enquire about something that might turn out to be a disappointment was very different from going to town on Ascension Day, when his father’s Club had a procession, to see the band marching, and being able to spend more than a halfpenny, the most he was allowed to spend on his way to School. He would have to wait many hours before he found out the truth.

He went into the field and lay down on the earth with his face towards the sun, and turned things over in his mind. He remembered that evening of the children’s meeting at the chapel, when he got a clout for throwing his prizemoney on the table; that evening when he had first realized that food and clothing were not to be had for nothing. He remembered Ann Ifans’s happy face that night, and the difference between that face and his mother’s. He was disappointed that no one seemed particularly glad that he seemed to have won the scholarship.

Somehow or other, no one ever seemed to be glad at all in his home. Will was too tired after coming home from the quarry. He dragged his feet in their heavy hobnailed boots towards the house, and his corduroy trousers hung loosely upon him. Perhaps it would be best for him to go to the quarry like Will. It would be less painful in the long run. Will was quite clever, but he would have to work in the quarry forever, it seemed, and it wasn’t fair for him, Owen, to have the opportunity that his brother didn’t have. No; he felt that he had to be allowed to go to the Middle School.

What with the heat and the worry, the sweat was pouring off his body. He turned his face away from the sun. The earth beneath him was hot, as if it too were in a sweat. With one eye Owen could see the new growth springing up green and fresh amongst the hard, dry stubble. The cat came up to him and rubbed her soft fur against his face. The sunshine fell on her fur, and penetrated through to the skin which showed up pink, as you see your own flesh when you hold it up between you and the light. The cat interfered with his breathing as she rubbed herself on his skin, and he gave her a shove to get her to go away. She turned around and around as if she didn’t know what to do, and the hard stubble made her pick her paws up affectedly as she walked. She came up to him again and put her head lovingly next to his face.

He sat up. The land lying round about him was beautiful. The sea was blue, with the island of Anglesey lying far off in the distance bathed in a soft heat haze. There was the County School, a red smudge just visible on the horizon. Next to it was Llanfeuno* cemetery, whose marble gravestones were glittering like hundreds of diamonds in the sunshine. The fields around him were quiet and dreamy, and at that moment Owen loved them. Deep in his unconscious he probably loved them all the time. He realized that before long he wouldn’t be able to spend so much time on the land of Ffridd Felen. Over there in the bottom corner of the field was the wild raspberry bush. He remembered the thrill of delight that came over him when he first found the raspberries and realized that they were the same things that grew in gardens except they were smaller. On his left was the bilberry bush that stood out greenly against the rest of the hedge, in the middle of the yellow of the gorse and the purple heather. The bilberries were a big draw every June and July.

Now he remembered – his mother would have a bilberry tart for tea. But the house was hot, since his mother had been baking all morning and roasting the meat for Sunday dinner. It had been like a furnace already at dinner time. Despite this, he got to his feet and went towards the house. His father wouldn’t be home for ages. The table was already laid for tea, and William was eating and in his clean clothes. He looked less wornout in his best clothes with his starched collar, but he looked so hot that it made Owen throw off his own rubber collar. William was having his tea early so as to be able to go out with the lads.

‘You can have your tea now in a minute, with me,’ Owen’s mother said to him.

The kitchen was cooler by this time, and there were just a few flames coming from the cowdung in the fireplace, the kettle simmering gently above.

‘Where are Twm and Bet?’ asked Owen.

‘The two of them have gone up the mountain with the Manod* children to gather whinberries,’ said his mother.

‘Are you tired, my boy?’ she asked then, seeing the overheated look on Owen’s face.

‘I’ve been lying in the sun. When will dad be home?’

‘Not for hours yet, so don’t worry about it.’

And indeed, in that moment, he was able to stop thinking about the scholarship. He always felt happy when his mother was friendly like this. The tea and the berry tart were good. The house was comfortable too, with its oak furniture gleaming, the bread placed beside it on the floor to cool down, and a hint of the aroma of all the baking floating around in the kitchen. His mother was wearing a light cotton frock with a lilac flower pattern. Owen thought his mother looked good in this frock. Her hair looked darker somehow, and her skin clearer. Why wasn’t his home always like this? What was the point of worrying about things? By this time he couldn’t have cared less whether he had got the scholarship or not. He felt well disposed to everybody, and to his mother in particular.

Twm and Bet came home before long, carrying a few whinberries in the bottom of a jug. Twm was seven, and Bet four. There had been quite a big gap for Jane Gruffydd between Owen and Twm. And just as they sat down to eat, aunt Geini dashed into the house.

‘Is it true?’ were her first words.

‘I don’t know,’ said Jane, ‘Ifan has gone into town to find out.’

‘Oh, I hope it is true,’ said Geini, almost too excited to sit down.

‘Even if it is true, I’m not sure we’ll be able to afford to send him to the School.’

‘What? Of course you can. It would be a sin to stop the boy going.’

‘He’d be able to earn a bit of money in the quarry if his father helped him, and you know what a burden it is for us to pay for this new house.’

‘But then, one day he’ll be able to bring in more money for you after he finishes his education.’

‘That’s questionable,’ said Jane Gruffydd.

‘Yes, of course I will,’ said Owen.

The two women found something especially endearing in Owen when he said this. As for him, he felt like throwing his arms around his aunt Geini for sticking up for him.

‘I’m expecting Sioned home any minute,’ said his mother.

‘Oh, sorry to interrupt but I just saw her going over to see mother, and she told me to tell you not to expect her. She’s going to have her supper with mam.’

Jane frowned, obviously displeased. Sioned was almost seventeen years old and attending a sewing School in Pont Garrog. She had started work as a maidservant after leaving School, like her sister Elin, but she failed to get on with two mistresses, and then said that she wanted to be a seamstress instead. In this she was supported by her grandmother. Sioned Gruffydd had started taking an interest in her granddaughter at the time when Ifan was ill, and by now Sioned lived in her grandmother’s house whenever she had a day off.

At sixteen, she was a tall, pretty, fair-complexioned girl. Her hair was a light amber colour, with a broad wave in it. Her eyes were hazel and turned up slightly at the outer corners. Her skin was like cream, with hardly a hint of a blush. Ever since she began her apprenticeship she had become completely obsessed with clothes, and when she was unable to persuade her mother to give her money to buy dress material she would sneak over to her grandmother and wheedle the money out of her. Recently she had begun to go to her grandmother’s house directly from work on a Saturday afternoon, and the little time she did spend at home it was as if she were locked away in her own little world, and had nothing to say to anyone. She tended to snap whenever anyone tried to start a conversation with her.

One morning when she turned up her nose at her breakfast of tea and bread and butter, her mother got the opportunity of doing what she had been meaning to do for months on end, namely, to ask her, seriously, what was the matter with her.

Sioned lost her temper, and showed pretty clearly that she now felt herself to be too high and mighty for Ffridd Felen.

‘A hole like this,’ she said, ‘in the back of beyond, stuck in a time warp, and having to eat the same old thing day after day.’

Jane Gruffydd was so astonished that she could barely utter a word. To think that her own child should say such things! And in her heart of hearts, Jane Gruffydd was rather proud of her cooking.

Without raising her voice, she said,

‘Maybe you’ll be glad of this food one day. You certainly won’t get anything better in your grandmother’s house.’

The row had cleared the air for a while. But recently Sioned had started to go to her grandmother’s house more often once again. No wonder, then, that her mother looked disgruntled when she heard Geini say that Sioned had gone straight from work to her grandmother’s house.

Ifan came home by the eight o’clock brake, and no one needed to ask whether Owen had got the scholarship. His father was astonishingly happy, his eyes glittering with joy. It seemed to Owen that he’d gone cross-eyed. There was a red line on his forehead where his hat had been, and the sweat ran down from this line to pause, dripping, on his temples. There were different smells in the house now too, smells that Owen could not identify.

In the brake on the way down Ifan had worked out how to discover whether the news was true or not. Elin worked as a servant in a lawyer’s house in town, and he felt sure that he would be able to get the truth from her.

And so it was that he made the discovery. Elin was the first in the family to show real enthusiasm for the thing, and she succeeded in persuading her father that it was nonsense to send Owen to the quarry instead of to the School.

Later, in town he met one of his partners in the quarry, Guto Cerrig Duon, and the two went to celebrate the news in the Fox and Horses by treating each other to a pint of beer. As he came out of the pub, Ifan ran straight into Dolly Rhyd Garreg and her daughter, Gwen. It was impossible to avoid her, and under the influence of the beer and the news he couldn’t find it in himself to be less than nice to her.

Dolly was wearing a short black satin jacket which reached just below her waist. She had a black toque on her head with little black shiny things like a herring’s scales scattered upon it. There was a very prosperous air about her and her daughter, Gwen, who was wearing a good leghorn hat and a red dress of French merino.

‘I’ve just heard the good news about your little boy,’ said Dolly.

(She had actually found out that morning and that’s what had brought her into town.)

‘Yes,’ said Ifan in a jubilant, loud voice ‘he came top of the list.’

‘Yes, the top among the boys, wasn’t it?’ said Dolly in a velvety voice. ‘My daughter came fifth.’

‘Yes, the fifth of the girls, wasn’t it, and only three boys and three girls can get it for free,’ said Ifan in the same tone of voice as her.

‘We’ll be paying for Gwen to go, it’s often the case that the ones like Gwen end up doing better than the ones who were top in the scholarship exam.’

‘I’m sure you’re right. Good day now,’ said Ifan, and off he went towards the brake.

Ifan told this story later with his eyes flashing in mockery.

‘Well,’ said his wife, ‘Owen shall go to the Middle School, if it’s only to spite Dolly Rhyd Garreg.’

‘No,’ said Ifan, ‘Owen shall go to the School so that he can be educated. He can go through this world then, and noone can steal that education from him.’

Ifan had learned his lesson from Elin, and his attitude was so different from what it had been when he left to go to town that everyone laughed.

‘I never heard you talk such sense,’ said Geini.

Ifan had brought brawn home for supper, and Geini was persuaded to stay to eat with them.

They were all content until Ifan asked ‘Where’s Sioned?’

She’s back home with Mam,’ said Geini. ‘There’s no need for you to keep any of this brawn for her, she will have had her supper.’

Jane hid her face so that no one could see her expression.

Sioned came home at about ten, her face red and her eyes sparkling. She was bathed in sweat after running home, but the light in her eyes was unmistakably the light of first love. She had left her grandmother’s house at six and had met Dic Edwards, a shop worker from town, in Ceunant Forest. She had gone without supper in order to meet him, and in her bed she tossed and turned, reliving the evening until the small hours.

In her own bed, the mother lay awake for a long time trying to interpret Sioned’s joyful look.

In his bed, Owen thought about his father and his strangely cross-eyed look, and laughed to himself. Then he smiled at the complete change in his parents’ view of the scholarship in only a few hours. Indeed, grown-ups were strange beings, shifting and changing their minds from minute to minute. Then he remembered how pretty Sioned had looked when she came home.

William snored by his side. He and the younger children were the only ones who went straight to sleep.