Chapter Twenty-three

‘Chicken and cress sandwich, Master Harry?’ Mari offered Harry the plate, and he took it from her.

‘I take it you’re hungry?’ she commented wryly.

‘It’s bedlam in here.’ He flattened himself against the wall of the drawing room so a group of elderly matrons could walk through to the dining room where Mari, with Betty Morgan’s help, had laid out a buffet. ‘I’m going into the garden.’ He signalled across the room to Toby and pointed to the French windows.

‘Would you like me to send one of the girls out to you with some drinks and another plate in ten minutes?’ Mari asked.

‘Please, you’re a darling.’ Harry would have kissed the housekeeper if a party of union men hadn’t separated them.

‘I’ve never seen so many people in one house. Granted it’s a large house, but not suitable for the entire town to play sardines in.’ Toby joined him in the arbour the gardener had just finished building. Hardy clematis had been planted around its base, but none were more than a foot high, although Sali had great hopes of seeing them flower the following summer.

‘Sandwich?’ Harry offered him the plate.

‘Thanks. You haven’t seen Bella, have you?’ Toby failed to make his enquiry sound casual.

‘She’s upstairs with my younger sisters, trying to stop them from crying. Not that she’s likely to succeed while all these people are around. Like me she’s discovered that endless sympathy, no matter how well meant, is difficult to take.’

‘I know.’

Something in the tone of Toby’s voice alerted Harry. ‘Your uncle?’

‘Died early on Thursday morning.’

‘Toby, I am so sorry. Why on earth didn’t you telephone me? I would have come at once.’

‘To do what?’ Toby asked logically. ‘At least here you could be with your family to offer them some comfort.’

‘And there I could have been with you.’

Toby made a wry face. ‘Be honest, has anything anyone said comforted you?’

‘Not outside of my immediate family,’ Harry conceded.

‘I would have given ten years of my life to have had someone to grieve with, someone who knew Frank well enough to make jokes about him the way that Catholic priest did today about your grandfather. Mrs Edwards and Alf did their best, so did Doctor Adams, but in the end their muted whispers irritated more than helped.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t need to tell you how I feel.’

‘When is your uncle’s funeral?’

‘Yesterday.’

‘Yesterday! That was quick.’

‘And small. Frank wanted it that way,’ Toby explained. ‘No fuss, no false tears from people who had only known him as a helpless, bedridden invalid. Last Sunday morning, when you were languishing in a cell, he even accused me of dragging out the illustrations to keep him going. When I showed him your sister’s Morgan le Fay before sending it to London on Monday morning, he said it was the best work I’d ever done, and not bad considering it was the first composition I’d put together without his help. That may not sound much to you but it was high praise from Frank. On Wednesday morning the print drafts arrived from London, including a rough of Morgan. They must have pulled out all the stops to do it. Doctor Adams bent the rules and allowed me to show them to him on Wednesday afternoon. Frank looked at them, smiled, murmured, “They’re not bad after all. I might make an artist of you yet.” Then he went to sleep and, like your grandfather, never woke up. You should have seen him, Harry. He looked so peaceful in his coffin.’

‘So did my grandfather.’ Harry left the plate of sandwiches on the bench, rose to his feet, turned his back to Toby and looked out over the town. ‘So, the book is finished?’

‘I don’t have another single line to paint or draw on that commission. No more alterations – nothing. Frank decided my Morgan should be the centrepiece, not Guinevere. So I didn’t need the Snow Queen to model for me after all.’

‘When will it be out?’

‘“Le Morte d’Arthur, illustrated by Frank Ross, will be published in the spring of nineteen twenty-seven. Subscription orders for leather-bound copies are now being taken. Exact date yet to be announced.”’ Toby quoted from the publishers’ catalogue.

‘I’d like to order twenty.’

‘There’s no need to do that, Harry. Books illustrated by Frank always sell,’ Toby took another sandwich.

Harry turned and faced him. ‘Bella’s in it. Six will make great birthday presents for my brothers and sisters next year. Then there’s one for me, one for my parents, two for my uncles and aunts, and nine for my cousins who will fight if I don’t give them one each.’

Toby did a quick calculation. ‘That’s nineteen.’

‘And one for the Ellises. They’d like to see their Arthurian lake. And it may encourage Martha and Matthew to persevere with their reading.’

‘They won’t allow them to keep it in the workhouse.’

‘I know, and that’s just one more reason why I have to get them out.’

Toby allowed Harry’s comment to pass – for the moment. ‘Frank left some papers besides his will, which, incidentally, left everything to me. Doctor Adams confiscated the originals in case they harboured germs, so I couldn’t take them out of the sanatorium, but Frank planned his funeral down to the last detail. Unbeknown to me, he’d asked to see the local vicar, bought a plot in the churchyard in the valley and asked him to conduct a funeral within twenty-four hours of his death. Said he didn’t want to leave me hanging about in the back end of beyond. The only mourners were myself, Doctor Adams, the beautiful Diana, who left for London an hour afterwards, the nurses who weren’t on duty and Mrs Edwards and Alf. Frank made me write to the publishers months ago when he was first diagnosed. He said he had no objection to a memorial service, provided it was a happy occasion that would coincide with the publication of the book. And that is exactly what they are arranging, a memorial service followed by a party at the Ritz. Perhaps they should rename the book Le Morte de Frank Ross.’

‘I’ll come to the memorial service and party with you, if I may.’

‘I was hoping you would.’ He dared to add, ‘And Bella in her best party frock – chaperoned by your parents, of course. You’ve seen me at my worst, Harry. Usually I’m happy-go-lucky, and I have lots of friends to prove it. But when Frank was taken ill, they sort of melted away. I have no doubt that when I go back to London they will materialize again but …’ Toby fell silent.

‘The Swansea Valley is a difficult place to get to,’ Harry consoled clumsily.

‘It has a railway, so don’t go making excuses for them. I feel I’ve grown close to you and I hope we will remain friends – and before you say anything, that’s not just because of Bella. I know it’s partly because we’ve suffered the same experience, watching people we love inch towards death, trying to fight a disease that had already won the battle. But it’s not all we have in common. Those evenings we spent together in the pub kept me sane. Those talks about life, love, art-’

‘And the drinking.’

‘That too.’ Toby smiled.

‘I hope we remain good friends for the rest of our lives.’ Harry waved to a young maid who had carried a tray of drinks and cakes from the house and was standing looking around the garden.

She walked towards them. ‘From Mari, Mr Harry.’

‘Thank her for me, Ruby.’ Harry took the tray from her. ‘I won’t tell anyone if you return to the house the long way round.’

‘The long way, sir?’

‘Walk around the garden three times, then go in through the kitchen door.’

‘I couldn’t do that, sir, not with the number of people waiting to be served,’ she giggled, and ran back inside the house.

‘Four glasses of wine.’ Toby took one. ‘And perfectly chilled too.’

‘Mari’s not only an expert housekeeper, she knows me better than I know myself.’ Harry sipped his wine. ‘When are you leaving Wales?’

‘The inn, a week Monday. I have already given Mrs Edwards notice. I need to sort out Frank’s headstone and make arrangements for the grave to be maintained before I move on.’

‘To where?’

‘I don’t know, not yet. Did I mention that the publishers sent me a letter with the proof illustrations?’ Toby murmured diffidently. ‘They’ve offered me a commission, in my own name.’

‘You know damn well you didn’t mention it. Congratulations!’ Harry set his wine glass on the bench and shook Toby’s hand enthusiastically. ‘I told you, you’re brilliant. You deserve it after the work you put in on the Morte. Is it an entire book?’

‘Yes.’

‘How many illustrations?’

‘Fifteen colour plates, eight black and white.’ A note of pride crept into Toby’s voice.

‘Do I have to drag the name out of you?’

‘Aesop’s Fables, so I’ll be looking at animals. The hare, the tortoise, the fox, the crow, the lion … perhaps I ought to consider moving next door to a zoo.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘I must admit the idea doesn’t appeal. But a zoo couldn’t be a worse neighbour than some of the others Frank and I have had over the years.’

‘You said you had no settled home.’

‘Not since my parents drowned. Frank rented a studio in Paris but he sold the lease when he was diagnosed with TB. He owns – owned,’ Toby corrected himself sharply, ‘a house in Chelsea. I suppose it’s mine now, but it’s never been home, not in the true sense of the word, like this place.’ Toby looked wistfully at the villa. ‘It was just a base he used whenever he exhibited in London. After my parents died, I joined Frank every school holiday, but we lived like nomads, wandering from one rented house to another. Most were in Cornwall because he liked the sea. The closest I have to a home are the boxes in storage in Frank’s attic. What about you? Will you live here now with your family?’ He deliberately switched the conversation away from himself.

Harry looked over the garden wall to the house next door. The roof was finished and, as far as he could see, the windows were too. ‘The trustees of my estate have bought that house for me.’

‘Trustees – don’t tell you me that you are heir to a fortune?’ Toby laughed.

‘I will inherit some businesses when I’m thirty,’ Harry divulged, reluctant as ever to talk about his wealth.

‘And there’s me wondering if you were going to touch up your father when you offered to pay the Ellises’ debts.’ Toby surveyed the house. ‘Very solid, middle-class and respectable – and I mean that in the nicest possible way. I have had enough of the bohemian existence. When are you moving in?’

‘I don’t know. What I do know is that I need to return to the Swansea Valley to clear my room, pick up my car and settle a few things. Are you going back up there today?’ Harry asked.

‘I checked the timetables. There’s a train that leaves Pontypridd station at six that will get me into Penwyllt just after nine. If you don’t mind me using your telephone I thought I’d call Mrs Edwards from here and ask her to keep me a meal.’

‘I have arranged to see my solicitor when everyone’s gone, so I won’t be able to go to the Swansea Valley until tomorrow. Don’t suppose you fancy staying the night? There’s a decent guestroom.’

‘I haven’t even brought a razor.’

‘I can lend you whatever you need,’ Harry offered.

‘In that case, yes. This meeting with your solicitor isn’t anything to do with the Ellises by any chance, is it?’ Toby asked cautiously.

‘And if it is?’ Harry challenged.

‘Harry, be reasonable. I thought your father performed miracles to get you out of that scrape. You could have knocked me down with a feather when I telephoned here on Sunday and Bella said that vicious agent had dropped the charges against you.’

‘I didn’t know you spoke to Bella on Sunday.’

‘I was worried about you,’ Toby said guiltily. ‘I didn’t know whether to rush up to Brecon to see if I could do something to help, or if I’d only make things worse. But if I’d gone, I would have taken the train. Given the trouble I had getting your car back to the inn I certainly couldn’t have driven there.’

‘I never thought to ask, can you drive?’

‘I can now.’ Toby exchanged his empty glass of wine for a full one.

‘And my car?’ Harry’s voice heightened in concern.

‘Only has a couple of dents, but Alf’s done his best to knock them out and it doesn’t look half bad.’

‘Toby, is this one of your jokes?’

‘It could be, but on the other hand, I did say that Alf has done the best he could,’ Toby replied maddeningly.

‘That will teach me to get arrested at a moment’s notice.’

‘All the more reason not to go back to the Swansea Valley. I can pack your things and send them on.’

‘I’d rather pack them myself into my dented car, if you don’t mind.’

‘Alf would drive it here for you if you asked him.’

‘No.’ Harry finished his second glass of wine, collected the plates and glasses, and stacked them on the tray. ‘There are a few things you don’t know about me and the agent, Toby. I’ll fill you in on the way back tomorrow. Thank the Lord, people are finally beginning to leave,’ he said in relief, when he saw guests walking down the drive. He gave Toby a sideways glance. ‘I suppose I could find Bella for you. But no talking to her unless all my other sisters are present or you’ll incur my father’s wrath, and, believe me, that is not something you want to do, whether you are serious about wanting to court Bella or not.’

*……*……*

Although some people made a point of paying their respects and then leaving Lloyd’s house, those who knew Billy Evans well lingered, wanting to remain with his family and talk about him. Some stayed so long Harry began to wonder if they had homes to go to. His parents had invited Lloyd’s brothers and their families as well as Mr Richards, Father Kelly, Betty Morgan and Billy’s closest friends to dine with them that evening, which meant that Harry didn’t have a chance to talk to Mr Richards about the Ellis children until almost ten o’clock.

Victor took Father Kelly, Megan and the boys back to the Rhondda in his truck, the children riding in the back, which they loved, especially at night. Joey drove Rhian and his family the short distance to his home soon afterwards. To Harry’s surprise, Betty Morgan was spending the night and, after dinner, she and Mari disappeared to the housekeeper’s room with a bottle of Mari’s favourite sherry to toast Billy’s memory.

As a special concession, Sali had allowed all the girls to stay up, even Edyth, who was pale and subdued, and nine-year-old Susie, who was sleeping on her feet. Bella commandeered Toby to play cards with them in the library.

Ruby made coffee and carried it to Lloyd’s study, and Harry and Mr Richards retreated there as soon as they had waved Joey and Victor off.

‘Join us?’ Harry asked Sali and Lloyd when they closed the front door and walked down the hall.

‘You sure you want us to?’ Lloyd looked round the door.

‘After what happened to me on Saturday, most definitely. I know that Mr Richards has been trying to work out ways for me to help the Ellis family and, given the problems he’s come up against, I need all the advice I can get.’

‘Put like that, how can we refuse?’ Lloyd pulled up a chair next to Harry. Sali fetched two extra cups from the dining room and set them on the coffee tray. Mr Richards took a notebook from his pocket, opened it and, with his customary businesslike approach, went straight to the point.

‘As a single man you won’t be allowed to remove the younger children from the children’s section of the workhouse, Harry. And, after being labelled a “moral degenerate”, it may prove impossible for anyone to sign Mary Ellis out. But let’s concentrate on the younger children first. If you were married you wouldn’t have a problem either in adopting them or taking them into your home as prospective servants.’

If Harry hadn’t known Mr Richards better he would have thought he was joking, but much as he respected and loved the old man, in all the years he had known him he had never seen him exhibit a trace of humour. ‘As I’m not about to rush up the aisle, I’ll have to advertise for a respectable married couple to look after them. But I know the Ellises. They’d hate to admit that they can’t look after themselves. And they can. They proved it every day between their mother’s death and their eviction.’

Mr Richards glanced down at his book. ‘The workhouse rules are simple and never waived. No child may be taken out except by a respectable married couple,’ he glanced up at Harry, ‘spinster or widow.’

‘There is a highly respectable widow without a position staying the night in this house,’ Sali reminded Harry.

‘Of course! Betty Morgan. Why didn’t I think of her?’ Harry said excitedly. ‘Have you asked her?’

‘Your mother and I did discuss the idea, but decided against broaching the subject with her until after we had spoken to you, Harry. Finding someone to take the children out of the workhouse is just one of many obstacles,’ Mr Richards warned. ‘I have approached each of the trustees in turn and after talking to them, have taken it upon myself as your solicitor to call an emergency board meeting for nine o’clock tomorrow morning. You need their permission to set aside sufficient money from your trust fund to care for the family. And I warn you, there is no way that they will vote to allow the Ellis children to return to the Ellis Estate.’

‘But the house and the farm are theirs, by right,’ Harry protested. ‘They have paid for it ten times over. Morally -’

‘It’s what I said to you last Sunday. The trustees are only concerned with preserving your inheritance until your thirtieth birthday. The Ellis Estate is a large and valuable one. Managed correctly, it could prove extremely lucrative.’

‘Then I’ll find a farm manager that the trustees will approve of, and he can live there with the Ellises.’

‘Any manager worth having would want to live in the house with his family, and he would resent the presence of a family of pauper children. Particularly if they regarded themselves as the rightful tenants.’

‘If I explain the situation to the trustees they’ll understand and see it the way I do,’ Harry persisted.

‘Believe me, Harry, I have tried.’ Mr Richards took the coffee Sali had poured for him. ‘If you’ll forgive me for saying so, you are allowing your heart to rule your head, and the trustees are doing the converse. In my experience, when heart meets head there is never enough common ground to reach a compromise. If you want to take the Ellis children from the workhouse you will have to find somewhere else for them to live.’ He filched a sheet of paper from his notebook, leaned forward and handed it to Harry. ‘That is a list of modest farms and smallholdings in the Swansea Valley owned by E and G Estates that are vacant.’

‘All repossessed by Robert Pritchard,’ Harry said in disgust.

‘And all empty,’ Mr Richards emphasized. ‘And I mean empty – no furniture, no livestock, not even the bare essentials of a table and bed. I believe that given the way the Ellis family have been treated by the representative of E and G Estates, the trustees might look favourably on a request from you to earmark one of those properties for the family’s use. But the problems don’t end there, Harry. Should you take the family from the workhouse you will become legally responsible for them. The trustees see that as an onerous and unnecessary burden.’

‘Not on an estate the size of mine.’

‘Financially, it won’t be.’ Lloyd finally spoke. ‘But the Ellis family might well become an emotional drain on you, Harry. Hopefully, you won’t remain a bachelor for ever, and your future wife may resent your involvement with this family.’

‘And if she, whoever she may be, asked me to abandon the Ellises, as they have been so many times by people who should have cared for them, I’d walk away from her.’

‘You say that now, Harry, but who knows what the future holds? Circumstances change.’ Lloyd offered his cigarettes around.

‘I don’t need reminding that only a few weeks ago I wanted to go to Paris for a year and now I’m not sure that I want to go at all.’ Harry set his coffee cup on a sofa table and took one of his father’s cigarettes.

‘We didn’t say that, Harry,’ Lloyd said flatly, ‘you did. Stop being so hard on yourself, you are only twenty-one. You have your whole life ahead of you, and you have to stop blaming yourself for what Robert Pritchard did. You were in school when he was appointed. And no sooner did you finish university than you left here to take care of Dad.’

Harry quoted the lecture Lloyd had given him so many times. ‘“Wealth brings responsibilities. You owe it to the people dependent on the wages your companies pay to make sure that every business you own is run fairly and honestly. And the only way you can do that is by monitoring them. It is time you learned everything there is to know about them and the people who labour for your benefit.”’

‘I’ve always been too severe with you, Harry.’ Lloyd reached across and gripped Harry’s shoulder.

‘No, you haven’t. All you ever tried to do was make me see that my inheritance was more than a windfall of wealth. That I owed a responsibility to the people who work for the companies held in trust for me. And you were absolutely right to do so. I have done a lot of thinking this week and I’ve made a few decisions. I want to try to be the kind of man Granddad was. When I reach old age, as I hope I will, I want to be able to look back and say, “I did make a difference. I did manage to make some people’s lives better.”’

‘That’s a tall order, Harry.’ Lloyd smiled.

‘I know, and I also know that I’ll never be a fraction of the man Granddad was. But you’re right, it is high time that I shouldered my responsibilities and tried to put things right in the companies I will inherit. I know that I haven’t done anything to convince you that I have a serious side, not yet,’ he said earnestly, ‘but the Ellis family wouldn’t have lost their home and each other if it hadn’t been for my shortcomings.’ He looked at Mr Richards. ‘I told you what I thought of a man who would employ an agent like Robert Pritchard and it still holds. The Ellises are in desperate straits because of my refusal to take control of my inheritance.’

‘Your mother and I are here if you need us to do anything, Harry,’ Lloyd offered.

‘That’s good to know.’

‘So, what do you want to do, Harry?’ Mr Richards asked.

‘Offer Mrs Morgan a job looking after the Ellises and hope she’ll take it. Attend the trustees’ meeting in the morning and then travel to the inn. Rent a cottage for the Ellises until Mrs Morgan and I can prepare one of these farms for them. As soon as we have somewhere to house the family, go to the workhouse and get the Ellises released. When they are settled, I intend to take a good look at E and G Estates. If Mr Beatty is willing, I’d like him to stay in Brecon and work with me to clear up the mess Robert Pritchard made. He knows a great deal more than I do about my own business,’ Harry said wryly.

‘It may take an increase of salary, but I’m fairly certain that we can persuade Mr Beatty to stay in Brecon, Harry.’ Mr Richards closed his notebook and returned it to his pocket.

‘You’re going to be very busy, Harry. You’ll find time to telephone us when you reach the inn tomorrow?’ Sali took Mr Richards’s empty coffee cup from him.

‘Of course.’

‘And at least once a week,’ she pressed.

‘At least, but I’ve a feeling that it’ll be a lot more often than that, given the help I’m going to need. Thank you, Mr Richards, for all your hard work on my behalf.’ Harry shook the old man’s hand.

‘My pleasure, Harry. I only wish that your Great-great aunt Edyth could see the fine young man you’ve become. She made a wise decision when she left her estate to you.’

‘I’ll see you to your car, Mr Richards.’ Lloyd opened the door.

‘And I’ll ask one of the girls to get your coat.’ Sali went into the dining room, where the maids were putting away the silver.

Lloyd laid his hand on Harry’s arm to detain him after Sali and Mr Richards had left. ‘This Mary Ellis, how old is she?’

‘Nineteen,’ Harry answered shortly.

‘Pretty?’

‘No.’ Harry met Lloyd’s searching gaze. ‘Beautiful.’

‘And from what Mr Richards said, illiterate and uneducated like most of the women Robert Pritchard raped.’

‘Yes, and because she’s lived in isolation with her family all her life, she’s wild and full of crazy ideas, especially when it comes to caring for her brothers and sisters. And no matter how impossible they are, she tries to carry them out. She will do anything to protect them. Robert Pritchard knew that and used it to hurt her.’

‘You love her?’ Lloyd asked bluntly.

‘With all my heart.’ It was a relief to admit it.

‘But her lack of education is an obstacle.’

‘Only for her. I’d marry her tomorrow if she’d have me.’ Harry meant it. Life had battered Mary with more injustices than anyone person should suffer in a lifetime, yet she had remained essentially true to herself. And he thought that if he could get her to care for him half as much as she cared for David, Matthew, Martha and Luke, he’d have a love worth more than all the wealth in his trust fund.

‘Then good luck with her, but a word of warning: tread carefully. Damaged women are fragile; smother them with kindness and you’ll suffocate them.’

Harry looked at Lloyd in confusion. His stepfather sounded as though he was speaking from experience, but he couldn’t be … He looked to his mother, immaculately and elegantly dressed as usual, as she helped Mr Richards on with his coat.

Toby and Bella walked, hand in hand, out of the library. Edyth, exhibiting the first trace of her old spirit that she’d shown since she’d come home from the infirmary, was making faces at them behind their backs.

‘All right, Edyth?’ Harry held out his hand, and she went to him.

‘Aren’t I always?’ She smiled up at him, before sticking out her tongue at Bella and Toby’s backs when they went into the drawing room.

‘No, you are not,’ Sali corrected her fondly. ‘And you are supposed to be taking things quietly, young lady. If Bella sees that tongue of yours there’ll be ructions.’

‘Young Ross going back with you tomorrow, Harry?’ Lloyd asked.

‘Yes,’ Harry confirmed.

Lloyd glanced at him and said just one word: ‘Good.’

Harry sat up as straight as he could to compensate for the low chair on which he was sitting, and faced the workhouse master across his desk. ‘I believe that I have complied with all the requirements. The regulations state the Ellis children can only be removed from the custody of the parish if they are transferred into the care of a respectable person who will be responsible for their welfare as well as meet the financial obligations of their keep.’ He glanced at Betty Morgan, the picture of propriety in her widow’s weeds. ‘You have seen Mrs Morgan’s references from her employer of the last twelve years and her reference from my father,’ he couldn’t resist adding, ‘the MP.’

‘Yes, we received them last week and checked them out.’ The master squirmed and stared down at his desk rather than meet Harry’s eye.

Harry wasn’t surprised at the workhouse master’s disquiet. Word travelled fast in a small town like Brecon, and everyone who had done business with Robert Pritchard either had been or was about to be interviewed by the police. Anthony Beatty, who had worked closely with Harry during the two weeks it had taken him to prepare the cottage he had rented in Abercrave for the Ellises, had told him that the workhouse master was no exception, and there were rumours that Robert Pritchard had sold the master furniture at preferential prices in exchange for the swift removal of families after evictions.

‘You found Mrs Morgan’s references satisfactory?’ Harry challenged.

‘Eminently. But the Ellis family will need more than housing; they will need to find work in order to support themselves. Otherwise they could become a burden on the parish again at some future date.’

‘They will need educating first,’ Harry said firmly. ‘You have seen the letter from the trustees of my estate.’

‘Offering to support them until such time as they can earn their own keep, yes, Mr Evans, but that sets a precedence. Paupers -’

‘They are no longer paupers,’ Harry corrected. ‘They have a place to live and a guaranteed annual income.’

‘Which they may dissipate in a reckless manner.’ The master pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He fiddled with it but made no attempt to open it. ‘The parish has to consider their ultimate welfare. This family was taken into the workhouse because they ran up debts.’

‘The debt was to a company I owned, and I sincerely doubt it existed outside of the agent’s machinations,’ Harry retorted. ‘I have no doubt whatsoever that Robert Pritchard cheated the Ellises. I have come here with Mrs Morgan today because you assured my solicitor on the telephone yesterday that there would be no obstacle to our removing all four Ellis children today.’

‘Ordinarily, yes, Mr Evans,’ the workhouse master hedged.

‘There are problems?’

‘With young David Ellis, yes.’

Harry sensed what was coming. ‘You have already found him a job.’

‘We found him a place, yes, on a farm.’

‘What farm?’

‘I’m not at liberty to say.’

‘Why didn’t you inform my solicitor of this when you spoke to him yesterday?’

‘Because I assumed that I could get David Ellis back in time to leave with you today, Mr Evans. The Ellis family are in the care of the parish -’

‘So you keep repeating. But as soon as they are removed and placed in Mrs Morgan’s care, they will no longer be a burden on the parish. I doubt that I need to remind you, yet again, that they are only here because of the criminal acts of a man who was in my employ. And I am sure that the farmer who has the boy will be equally happy with another. David Ellis couldn’t have been with him much more than a week or two.’

‘He took him the night he came in.’

‘But no one knew …’ Harry breathed out heavily. ‘Ianto Williams.’

‘Someone told you?’

‘I didn’t need to be told. I saw Ianto Williams at the Ellis Estate on the day the family were evicted. David Ellis warned me then that he and his younger sister wouldn’t be in the workhouse long, that they’d be taken as unpaid servants.’

‘We place our inmates with respectable people, Mr Evans.’ The master turned crimson and moved his chair back from his desk – and further away from Harry. ‘It was a perfectly normal, legal arrangement,’ he continued defensively. ‘Mr Williams needed a farm labourer; the boy was experienced and suited to the work.’

‘I don’t doubt it, but now that the Ellises have a home in which they can live together, the boy needs to be reunited with his family.’

The master stared down at his desk again. ‘David Ellis has met with an accident.’

‘What kind of an accident?’ Harry demanded suspiciously.

‘I don’t know the details. The police went to Mr Williams’s farm yesterday to interview him about his dealings with Robert Pritchard. They saw that the boy was ill, and arranged for him to be admitted to the paupers’ ward in the infirmary.’

‘Here?’

‘The infirmary is run as a separate establishment, Mr Evans, but I was told that he had been admitted.’

‘Have his sisters and brothers seen him?’

‘It is against regulations for workhouse inmates to visit the infirmary,’ the master recited officiously.

Harry rose to his feet. ‘I wish to see David Ellis and ascertain his condition for myself. When I return, Mrs Morgan and I will expect all three Ellis children to be ready to leave for their new home.’

‘Without their brother and sister you risk upsetting them.’ The master left his chair.

‘The risk of upset will be less if you allow me to remove Mary Ellis so she can help Mrs Morgan care for them,’ Harry ventured.

‘She is -’

‘I am aware what Robert Pritchard called her,’ Harry cut in ruthlessly. ‘But surely no one here would take the word of a man who has been arrested and remanded in custody?’

‘Every man is innocent until found guilty in a court of law, Mr Evans.’

It was then Harry realized that the workhouse master was still hoping that Robert Pritchard would be found innocent, that the entire scandal of the agent’s fraudulent business dealings could be swept aside and forgotten. He had the feeling that more than one ‘respectable person’ in Brecon was holding their breath, waiting for the police to knock on their door.

‘“Innocent until proven guilty”,’ Harry repeated. ‘Tell me, master, in what court of law was Mary Ellis found guilty?’

The master rang the bell on his desk. An assistant knocked on the door, opened it and waited for instructions.

‘Mr Evans wishes to visit the infirmary,’ he informed the man. ‘You do realize that the matron will be within her rights to refuse you entry, Mr Evans?’

‘Yes.’ Harry turned to Betty Morgan. ‘You’ll wait here for the children?’

‘Yes, Mr Evans.’ Betty had difficulty keeping a straight face. She had never called him anything other than Harry since childhood.