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Home Truths
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February 1901
Gwenna had given little thought to the fact Saturday February 2nd had been designated an official day of mourning for the recently deceased Queen Victoria, or that shops, offices and other businesses were expected to close for the day. After having closed all day Wednesday for Alice and Elias’s wedding, she was now champing at the bit.
“Honestly, Gwenna,” said Tillie. “You’re wearing yourself out. Do you realise how much weight you’ve lost? Mam says you’re not eating properly, again. You can’t be up making sweets half the night and working in the shop all day.”
“I’ve got Hugh helping. I’m not doing it all by myself,” answered Gwenna, moving from bench to shelf, from shelf to worktop, worktop to stretching hook and back again, checking the copper pan heating on the range as she passed.
Tillie paced around after her, trying to get Gwenna to slow down. “Maybe – but you’ve got him packaging up the goods and out on the road doing deliveries more than he’s here with you making them.”
“Hugh’s doing a good job. If he didn’t do those jobs, then I’d have to, or I’d have to hire someone. And he’s not doing out-of-town deliveries any more. Haven’t you noticed? We’re much cleverer these days. Our stock goes by rail or steamer to the nearest station or port,” explained Gwenna, proud of her innovations. “And as for the sweet making, my reputation stands on the quality of what I make. I have to do it.”
Since her own fudge was at stake in this conversation, Tillie was having none of it. “That doesn’t stop you making fudge, even though you say mine is superior. You can charge more for your specialties, like you do with my fudge – relabel them so everyone knows the difference if you want to – but let Hugh make the basics. He’s as capable as you.”
“I’ll think about it,” said Gwenna, carrying on as if Tillie had not been there.
“Well, if you won’t think of yourself, think of Mam.”
Gwenna paused in her work and gaped at Tillie. “Mam? What’s the matter with Mam?”
“Haven’t you noticed she’s ended up being full-time mother to our two? Tom pointed it out to me. I hadn’t noticed either, but apart from when Olwen wakes in the morning and I put her to bed at night, it’s Mam who looks after her and Georgie. Tom says it’s all right for the moment, but Mam’s getting older, Gwenna, and our children shouldn’t grow up believing she is their mam.”
“Mam’s not that old, Tillie. She’s not fifty until next year.” Gwenna continued with her work, walking around Tillie leaning against the long table. “Maybe when the shop’s more established, I’ll consider it.”
“The shop is established. How much busier could we get?”
“But it’s still small change, Tillie. I haven’t paid back what I owe yet. I can’t lose all I’ve gained by letting up now.”
“That’s not what Tom tells me, and you know it. He says the business is going very well. And he should know. He’s the one who does all the figures. You’ve done it, Gwenna. You’ve brought Pa’s dreams to life. Ease up a bit. Before you fall over.”
Giving into a moment of glee, Gwenna’s mischievous smile brightened her eyes to sapphire. She took a stick of rock, twisted it into a figure of eight, held it against her eyes like a pair of glasses and poked her tongue out at Tillie. “Yes, Mrs Griffiths. Whatever you say, Mrs Griffiths,” she teased, before becoming serious again. Tom had told her the books were looking good, but Gwenna couldn’t bring herself to believe it possible. “Oh, Tillie, I do hope he’s right. But I can’t let up just yet.”
She threw the twisted stick of rock into the air but missed when she reached out to catch it. It split into pieces on the floor sending them both into peals of laughter.
“You must be done here for the day, Gwenna?” urged Tillie, helping pick up the bits of rock. “Do you want to go to the funeral service for Queen Victoria? It’s being held at Albert Park; there’s a parade carrying the wreaths to be laid at the foot of her statue.”
Gwenna shook her head. “Actually, no, I won’t. Do you mind? I know Mam wants to go. Could you and Tom go with her? You could take the babies in the pram. I’d like to slip around to Janie’s. She said she had something to tell me at the wedding but we never got the chance to talk again. And I want to try and find out how Louisa is. Poor woman. Something’s not right.”
* * *
“You’re with child again, aren’t you?” Gwenna cried as soon as she saw her stepsister and gave her a hug. Janie’s face was a little rounder, her skin a shade pinker and her eyes appeared darker than ever.
Clutching her hands before her, Janetta nodded enthusiastically. “How did you guess? I wanted to tell you at the wedding, but it never seemed the right time.”
“You look so happy, Janie. Congratulations.”
The two sat in Janie’s parlour with John, a year older than Georgie, playing on the floor. Billy, now four, had gone with his father to the funeral service, leaving the household peaceful. Over a cup of tea, the women chatted about the wedding and all the gifts the pair had received, from linens to glassware and a six-piece dinner set, to the glorious bed quilt Tillie admitted to making in secret, in the hope the pair would eventually set a date.
“The partnership Mr Woodman gave Elias will set him up for life now,” said Gwenna. “Alice will have her hands full keeping both men on track, but she will. She is so good with figures, and she can still do the books even once they start having a family – and I bet they start soon. Elias might not realise it, but Alice can’t wait.”
“Mr Woodman told me why he’d decided to give Elias the partnership,” said Janie. “He says Elias is destined to become a well-known name in the industry and he wanted to make sure the firm would be recognised as the best in bespoke furniture. But also to give Elias something to ‘perpetuate’ – is that the word? – after he, Mr Woodman, that is, retired.”
Above all these things, though, was the standout surprise gift of the sideboard.
“What sideboard?” asked Gwenna, unaware of the gift, having never visited the workshop and seen the work in progress.
“The one Elias made.” Janie explained how she had first gone to his workshop after falling in love with Gwenna’s sideboard. “I used it as an excuse to visit Elias,” she said. “I go there quite often.”
“You two always did get on the best as children,” said Gwenna. “But if Elias made it, who bought it?”
“Guess.”
Gwenna shook her head. “I’ve no idea.”
“Louisa,” said Janie, keeping her voice down.
Gwenna’s voice sounded too loud in the quiet. “She did? Why on earth would she do that? She never had anything to do with Elias after she married Mr Evans. And she certainly didn’t look like any happy gift-giver at the wedding.”
“Shh.” Janie put her fingers to her lips. “Louisa’s asleep in the back bedroom.”
Gwenna’s mouth dropped open and she spluttered. “Why is she here? What’s going on, Janie?”
Gwenna sat aghast as Janie revealed Louisa’s story.
It all began when Louisa heard about the thrashing Elias had given Gwenna back in October 1899. Pity for herself, mingled with pity for Gwenna. She, too, suffered – at the hands of Albert Evans.
According to Janie, Albert’s mother, a tyrant at the best of times, had taken control of the household, the children and the money. Louisa was expected to keep up appearances and be the epitome of the society lady and do exactly as she was told. She didn’t always measure up.
Butchering made Albert strong, but he made sure never to leave visible marks. Bruises on her upper arms where he squeezed too tightly, and on her back and shoulders, a punch to the stomach. Afterwards, Albert would buy Louisa a gift to say sorry, and life would go back to normal. Except the beatings had become more frequent.
“Louisa hid it all behind a facade of prosperity, too ashamed to admit what her life was like,” explained Janie.
Gwenna bit her lip. She felt guilty she’d never noticed. Should she have recognised the signs?
“Remember what she was like at our get-together in Tillie’s house, just after Olwen was born? All so uppity and angry, and she couldn’t control the children,” continued Janie.
Gwenna nodded. She remembered Bethan had said something was wrong that day.
“It was going on back then. She had been on the verge of confessing to Mam many times but couldn’t bring herself to say anything. It’s only in quite recent times I’ve learnt about all of it myself.”
Janie topped up the teacups and pressed on with her story.
“But it was after you married Johnno, and everything else that followed – and then Elias decided to run off and become his own man – that Louisa became jealous. Every time you turned your hand to anything, you succeeded. Worse still, it seemed Elias was becoming successful too, while her life narrowed. It turned her mean.”
Everything started to fall into place in Gwenna’s mind: the moods, the nastiness, the absences – they all made sense now. “Has Louisa left him? Is that why she’s here?”
Janie nodded. “He hit her the morning of the wedding, and her mother-in-law had forbidden her to attend. She defied his mother but paid for it later that night.”
“Oh, that’s terrible, but I still don’t understand about the sideboard,” said Gwenna, frowning in confusion.
“It goes back to the day you opened the shop,” said Janie. “Louisa also admired the sideboard. Not that she would have told you – or me, for that matter. She ordered one, a smaller one, for her own home, without knowing Elias was the maker. She found out later when I started telling her about my visits to the workshop and how well Elias was doing. That’s when she started to behave out of character.”
Gwenna recalled the conversation she and Janetta had had after the Christmas service: She’d said Louisa had started being nice to Janie and telling everyone to visit Gwenna’s shop, totally opposite to what she’d done in the previous months.
“I don’t know what happened to change things, maybe the violence got worse, but the invitation to Elias and Alice’s wedding did it.”
Gwenna’s exasperation with Janie’s convoluted tale erupted. “Did what, Janie? For goodness’ sake, get on with it.”
“Forced her to leave, of course. Louisa has told me since she’s wanted to leave her husband for some time but couldn’t see a way out. But when Mr Woodman contacted her to ask about delivery of the sideboard, she had an idea. Since it was already paid for, she told them to keep it as a present. And I don’t know what you said to her, but whatever it was, it gave her the strength to leave.”
“And I’m never going back,” said Louisa, standing by the door. She had arrived so quietly in stockinged feet, Janie and Gwenna jumped at the sound of her voice.
Gwenna rose to her feet and crossed the room to wrap her arms around Louisa and guide her to the sofa. Tears fell. “I’m sorry, Lou. I never knew.”
“How could you? I hid it from you all, but after what you said about happiness being the key to fulfilling your dreams, I just couldn’t stay there any longer. No one is happy. Not me, not the children, not Albert or his mother. I have no idea about his father, but he’s so wrapped up in the business maybe he is.”
The afternoon disappeared as the three sisters talked. Percy returned, popped his head into the sitting room and promptly left them alone again. More tea was made and drunk as Louisa filled in the unhappy moments in her life. She was adamant she would not go back. She would miss the children and would ask to see them, but they’d been alienated from her already and she doubted the children would care. They were still too young to have any say.
As they talked, Gwenna schemed. “Louisa. Have you thought about what you want to do, or where you’re going to live?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Three days ago, you said you wanted to come home. What did you mean?”
Louisa’s crestfallen face crumpled. “They were only words, Gwenna. I don’t have a home any more. I’ll have to find lodgings and get a job, I suppose. Can I stay for a few days, Janie? Until I get my head together.”
Janie assured her she could, but Gwenna went one better.
“Before you get too carried away, I have an idea which would suit us both. My house is big enough; you could come and live with me and Mam, and Georgie. Charlie, too, when he’s in the house. He spends most of his time with Tom. But in return, I need your help. I need someone extra to work in the shop and help Hugh put the orders together. It would give me more time to spend making sweets and being a mother to Georgie, so Mam has time to do what she wants. Does it sound like something you’d like?”
“Truly?” asked Louisa, trying to grasp what Gwenna offered. “You’d do that for me?”
Gwenna smiled. “Only if you do me the favour in return and work your hands to the bone.”
Louisa didn’t smile. “Why would you do me any favours, Gwenna?”
“Because you’re family. I’ve known you all my life, and because someone did me a favour not so long ago, and now I’m doing one in return.”
* * *
The following Wednesday half-day, they celebrated Charlie’s birthday. For the first time in years, six step- and half-siblings sat in the same room without daggers being drawn. Bethan’s dreams had finally come true. If her absent son Samuel had been there too she would have felt complete, but having Louisa home again, and Janie expecting another child, was enough.
Gwenna invited them all to share in her latest experiment – lime with a chocolate centre. The shape and balance weren’t quite right yet, but taste was her main objective. “Do you like it?” she asked, eagerly awaiting their reaction.
“Mmmm. Lovely,” said Charlie. “All sweet and sour. I like it.”
Percy wasn’t at all keen, and Alice’s face puckered when the lime juice hit her taste buds. “Too sharp for me, but the chocolate’s nice.”
Elias ate his and took a second and then a third one, murmuring something unintelligible, so Gwenna assumed he liked them. Tillie and Tom had been her tasters while she perfected the combination, and approved. Janie, Bethan and Louisa were rather more non-committal. They didn’t dislike it but couldn’t say it would be a favourite. While not quite the response she’d wished for, Gwenna could not consider it a failure either.
After tea and cakes, the men decided to wander down to the park with Charlie for a game of cricket, leaving a restless Alice, a still downhearted Louisa and a radiant Janie talking about Tillie’s latest quilt and complimenting Bethan on the fine lace shawl unfolding from her crochet hook. Gwenna sat at the table sketching an idea for the barrow Charlie insisted upon, with only one ear on the conversation.
“I’m nine now,” he’d argued earlier, disappointed he wasn’t getting a barrow for his birthday. “And summer is more than half over, and school’s in and you promised. You promised, Gwenna. But it never happened. Louisa’s here now and helps Mam, and you’ve got more time to make things. I can tell. Why won’t you let me?”
Gwenna sighed. She had promised him. She had even thought it a clever idea, but somewhere in the whirlwind of life, she had forgotten. Pushed aside to make space for other more important things. “There’s time, Charlie, bach. You’re still young. It’s a great idea and I will come up with an idea or two, but be patient with me.”
Never mind which way she explained it – she wanted him to have a childhood of freedom and fun, not a time spent standing on street corners hawking her sweets – he came back with a counterargument.
“But Gwenna, I want to. I need money of my own. I’ve got ideas. And I want to know how to make sweets, and how to run a business so I can help when I’m older. Gwenna. Please?”
Not until she’d talked to Hugh, who agreed to make something suitable, had she conceded. “Very well. But I’m not teaching you how to boil sugar until you’re twelve. Do you understand?”
Charlie’s face lit up with delight and he scampered off.
In the meantime, Hugh had created a simple tray from a cardboard box and attached a strap to go around Charlie’s neck, and painted it dark green. Gwenna would give it to Charlie this coming weekend, after signwriting ‘Gwenna’s Confectionery’ along the front.
Snatches of conversation drifted into Gwenna’s consciousness as she turned her attention away from the barrow and started to scribble down combinations of flavours to go with this and a texture to go with that.
Alice had brought the wedding photographs, which were passed around to be oohed and aahed at. “Dad says he’s entering Mr Court’s commissioned sideboard into the Industry Awards at the next exhibition. If Elias wins, there’s a monetary prize as well ...”
Gwenna looked at the snaps and saw for herself what Tillie and Bethan had been telling her for some time. She had lost weight. She also saw one Hugh had taken where she was the central image, rather than the bride and groom. It unnerved her how Hugh had focused on her to the detriment of the bride, but she couldn’t decide what it meant.
“Percy and I’ve agreed to have at least six children. I do so hope this one is a little girl. I love the boys dearly, but ...”
Gwenna passed the photos on and turned the page to jot down more ideas. She liked experimenting with new options, even if some of them didn’t work.
“Tom said they were rushed off their feet at Smith & Caughey’s annual sale yesterday. He came home exhausted.”
Louisa had been almost silent since she’d moved in upstairs, so when Gwenna heard her muffled voice, she stopped writing and listened.
“I’m grateful ...”
Gwenna had given Louisa the room at the back, the quietest and sunniest, and where she had a view across the tops of houses towards Western Park.
Between them, Bethan and Gwenna had agreed not to question Louisa. She would talk if she wanted to, and if she didn’t, then as long as she settled in and was happy, they would be content. Janie had told them enough for now.
What Louisa wanted to do with her life from now on, Gwenna couldn’t begin to guess. For now, Louisa was a willing worker and surprisingly cheerful with the customers, but getting her clothes and personal possessions from her mother-in-law had proved an upsetting challenge. Wives who deserted their husbands and families were frowned upon, regardless of the circumstances. Divorce would be out of the question.
“I feel like I’m in a storybook,” said Louisa. “I’d accepted my lot, living in a rut I couldn’t escape, but here I am, and I don’t know what happens next.”
Bethan stopped her crocheting and patted her daughter’s hand. “You take one day at a time, Louisa. We’ve all spent time in a rut not of our making, but something always happens to change it. Sometimes it’s good and sometimes not; we just have to wait and see what life brings us.”
