A Million Tears (The Tears Series) Read online

  Mam often said that education produced dreams, but it was hard work that would bring them to reality.

  Da came down and sat at his usual place. We bent our heads and he said a quick grace in Welsh. Mam lifted the top off the pot and the rich aroma filled the room. Sian pounced on the serving spoon, had her fingers gently rapped by Da, pouted and let Mam serve.

  After the dishes were washed we sat around the table with our slates and chalk. Even the games we played were educational. For instance, we were each given a letter and then had to write down the names of places, birds, flowers, rivers, kings, historic battles and so on. We had played this game so often even the twins, though only eight, did well. Somehow Da always came last.

  The next morning I was up at six thirty. By that time Da had been in work an hour and Mam, after seeing him off, was back in bed. I stoked the fire and got some coal from the back shed. I put on half a bucket, emptied the remainder in the polished coalscuttle alongside the grate, grabbed the other tin bucket and let myself out the front door.

  It had stopped raining though the sky was overcast, the threat of rain still heavy in the air. I hurried along the street in the direction of the colliery. At the corner shop I turned left and ran down the steep hill towards the river. I exchanged ‘Good mornings’ with the people I met, speaking Welsh. Welsh was our natural language, English was foreign to us. At home we spoke English and like some others we were bilingual; most spoke only Welsh and refused to learn English, in spite of the fact that thousands of immigrants from England came into the valley looking for work. Some of the older Welsh families even moved further west, where the English seldom came. The immigrants were not wanted in our valleys; the men said, ‘they are stealing our jobs, yes Bach, and the very food from our mouths!’

  I hurried along the bank of the river, the filthy water swirling only a foot below my feet. There had been a lot of rain recently and the river was swollen to nearly twice its usual depth. Granddad said that when he was a boy the water had been clean enough to swim in and the fish caught in half a day could feed a family for a week. But nowadays, the only things living in the water were the rats, as big as kittens. For many years the water had been used to wash the coal from the colliery. As a consequence it was as black as night with a peculiar, horrible smell.

  What it gave us though was as much coal as we needed . . . free.

  I reached the part of the river where the bank had collapsed and the water had spread over a larger area. With the rain more coal than ever would be washed down. It would reach this spot and the widening of the river would deposit coal near the sides of the banks. I slipped off my socks and shoes and stepped into the cold water.

  Twenty minutes later, my feet numb and black, I had both buckets full. Rather than dirty my socks and get my shoes wet, I walked back bare footed. I was so used to this that I did not feel the stones and cinders underfoot. I stopped every few hundred yards to rest and threw stones at any rats I saw. I arrived home as the rain started again. I was annoyed because I had hoped for another load before breakfast. Instead, I washed my feet and sat drying them in front of the fire, Mam’s old school atlas on my knees.

  I opened it to the map of America and as I followed the rivers and towns my dreams took over once more – New York, Pittsburgh, and west to Denver and San Francisco. One day I promised myself, one day. Unlike my parents and the twins, my friends laughed at my daydreams. What they were not aware of was that Mam and Da shared a similar dream. Why didn’t we go? Why didn’t we pack up and go? – the family, that was why. The Welsh older generations had a tight grip on the children, which was why we wandered less than other nationalities.

  Granddad had now turned to God, trying hard to save his soul before the dust in his lungs killed him. Ours was a typical close knit Welsh family, with our grandparents and uncles living within a mile of our house.

  ‘Dreaming again, Dai?’ Mam interrupted my thoughts.

  I closed the atlas guiltily. ‘Only a bit Mam. I was thinking about us – all the family I mean.’ I paused, uncertain how much I could say. ‘I mean, why don’t we just go? You want to, Da wants to, and I want to. You keep saying there’s a whole world out there. Couldn’t we go and find it? Find a better life. Not’ I added hastily, ‘that life isn’t good here. It’s just . . .’ I hesitated, not knowing how to go on.

  ‘I know, Dai,’ she knelt beside my chair. ‘I know what you mean. But just think. There’s all the family, our friends. Grandmother especially has only got Aunt Olive and me.’ She paused. ‘And there’s Grandma and Granddad. What will they do without us?’

  ‘Mam, Mam, Mam, you know they’ll do very well. They’ve got four others besides Da and look how many grandchildren they’ve got. No Mam, we’ll rot and die here, strangled by our family.’

  There was a sadness in her eyes as she laid her hand on my arm. ‘You’re too wise for your age and your own good,’ she said softly. ‘You may be right,’ she sighed and then smiled sadly. ‘Who would have thought such insight in a child of ten?’

  ‘I’m not a child Mam. If it wasn’t for you and Da I’d be going down the mine in a year’s time. Instead I’ll be staying in school, costing you both more than you can afford, with Da killing himself working doubles to make enough money.’ I could not help the bitterness in my voice. I loved my parents and wanted them to have a better life before it was too late.

  ‘You may be right, Dai,’ she repeated, ‘but for now there’s nothing we can do. We have your schooling to think about and then there’s the twins. Until that’s all finished we can’t think of going anywhere. So let’s have no more talk about it.’ She stood up.

  ‘Mam, use the money you’ve saved for our education. It’s enough to get us out of here, and before the dust gets Da, like it gets everybody eventually.’

  Without a word she went into the kitchen and a few moments later returned with half a loaf and some dripping. She placed them on the table and looked at me thoughtfully. ‘Did you mean what you said? About the money I mean.’

  ‘Yes, Mam.’ I nodded and lowered my eyes to the atlas. Did I mean it? All my dreams about school, getting on in life, revolved around the money and my education. If we spent it emigrating what would happen to my schooling then? I was annoyed at my selfish thoughts. Why think about it? Nothing would ever happen.

  We were doomed to stay here for the rest of our lives, living our dreams in our heads and not striving for the reality, at least, not until I was grown up. Then, no matter how much I loved my parents I was going to move on in the world. I would make my fortune and return to take them away to live in a fine house with servants and everything. Sion and Sian would come as well. I wandered into my dream world once more, the atlas still showing the continent of America.

  After breakfast I helped the twins with their schoolwork. Neither of them appreciated it. They only wanted to go out and play even though it was still raining. Not so long ago I felt the same way, until one of my friends, three years older than me, started in the mine. He drowned six days later when one of the smaller shafts had been flooded after heavy rain and a pump had failed. After that I spent weeks dreading the thought of my eleventh birthday. Finally, I realised the only way out was as Mam kept saying; I had to work harder than anyone else and continue my education.

  The rain stopped about midday and I repeated my earlier trip to the river, returning with another two buckets of coal. Sion and Sian were in the street playing with their friends, a gang of ragamuffins together and always up to mischief. As I staggered around the corner I was in time to see Sian knocking on the door of old Mr Price and then running pell-mell past me. I grinned as I walked towards the old man’s house knowing the explosion that was to follow. Sure enough his door slammed open and there he stood, angrily shaking a stick at no one in particular.

  This was the first time I had been nearby when his door had been knocked. As he stood there shaking his stick and yelling after the kids I saw there was something wrong but could not work out wh
at for a few seconds.

  ‘You rascals,’ he called in Welsh, hopping from foot to foot, looking up and down the road, not knowing which way they had gone. ‘Just you wait. I’ll catch you and when I do I’ll give you all the leathering of your lives, look you. Just you wait and see if I don’t.’

  He was a sprightly old boy in spite of the years he had worked in the mine. As I took in the darned cardigan, the patched trousers and the grey hair, I realised what was wrong. He was not angry. He was smiling under his fierceness. I was so surprised I stopped and gaped at him.

  ‘After all these years Dai Griffiths and you caught me out. Heh, heh but I had you fooled for long enough didn’t I boyo? Heh, heh.’

  I smiled back. For the first time I was unafraid of him. I saw a friendly, lonely old man. How did I, a mere ten-year-old boy, see that? I suddenly realised what old age meant and why families stayed together.

  ‘Well, Dai Griffiths, are you going to come in for a cup of tea or are you going to tell your young friends that I’m not really angry at all? Mind you, if you do, then you’ll spoil not only their game but mine too. And you must admit I make them run just a little bit faster and give them more spice in the game than anybody else, even that old biddy at twenty one.’ Again he laughed. ‘And just think young Griffiths, if you come inside with me for a cup of tea you’ll be a hero in no time. Ha, ha, especially when you leave and tell them all about the live bats and frogs I keep. Don’t look so alarmed it’s not true. But just think of the stories we can make up to tell them. Well then, are you coming or aren’t you?’

  I put the buckets of coal on his doorstep and followed him inside. His house was identical to ours, not quite as clean perhaps and certainly shabbier, but there was a friendly air about the place that somehow went well with its smell.

  2

  ‘Mam, guess where I’ve been,’ I said as I tipped the coal into the back shed.

  ‘Apart from down to the river, I’ve no idea,’ she replied, scrubbing Da’s clothes on a wash board. ‘I went in to old Mr Price’s for tea. You know Mam he’s a nice man, only a bit lonely I think.’

  ‘I think so too, Bach. That’s why I go and visit him from time to time, just to have a chat see.’

  I looked at her in surprise. ‘I didn’t know you’d been in his house.’

  ‘Oh, not often like, but now and again, when you’re at school usually. What did you talk about?’

  ‘Um . . . nothing much. Mostly about school and working down the mines. He said I should work hard and go to grammar school and do well and perhaps get to university in Cardiff. He said if I did and other folks hereabouts saw how much of an advantage there was in it then they’d try harder perhaps for their children, like you and Da are doing. He said that education was . . . was the working man’s way out of s . . . sludgery, I think he said.’

  Mam chuckled. ‘Aye Dai, that’s what he probably did say. I persuaded him ages ago that was the best way for us. I had the devil’s own job, a lot of nonsense he kept calling it, but he changed his mind and now tells everybody how important schooling is for the working class. You never know Dai, perhaps one day they’ll learn, and then we’ll have a decent education system available to everybody.’

  I nodded, struck by the idea. After all, was it fair my parents had to work hard, deny themselves so much to put us through school? So many rich people made sure their children had a proper education without any effort or hardship. Life, I reflected for the umpteenth time, was unfair. I got out the atlas and wandered back into my daydreams of adventure, exploration and fortune.

  After the twins came in and washed I had an idea.

  ‘Sian,’ I asked seriously, ‘do you think you’re brave?’

  ‘Of course,’ she replied, scornfully. She was a proper tomboy, which was not surprising with a twin brother as well as an older brother to influence her.

  ‘Good. Well you saw me going into old Mr Prices’s didn’t you?’

  ‘Gosh, yes, Dai. That was awfully brave of you. What was it like? Is he really a man witch like old Mrs Jenkins is a woman witch?’

  ‘Don’t be daft, Sian. He’s just a nice old man who’s very lonely. So’ I paused, ‘you and me and Sion are going to visit him before tea, all right?’

  They both gasped. ‘I’m not,’ said Sion. ‘He eats little boys,’ he voiced the fear of the myth that had been in existence for as long as I could remember.

  ‘Tell me,’ I said craftily, ‘name one little boy he’s eaten, ever.’

  They screwed up their faces in concentration and finally admitted they could think of none.

  ‘Right, because it’s not true. He’s really very nice and we’re going in to see him.’ Who could have possibly foreseen the consequences of such a simple decision?

  They looked at one another uncertainly, then Sian said, in a timorous voice, ‘All right then, Dai, but you must come too.’

  ‘Of course, that’s the whole idea. You wouldn’t go alone, anyway.’

  I told Mam where we were going and we left the house. Reluctantly, they followed me along the pavement. I reached for the knocker and as I did I realised the twins were edging away.

  ‘Come here, both of you. It’ll be all right, I promise you.’

  They nodded, wariness mirrored in each other’s eyes.

  I rapped a couple of times and stepped back. The two of them were poised for flight and as the door swung open I thought they would run before I could stop them.

  Mr Price’s scowl was replaced by a smile when he saw me. ‘Back so soon, boyo? What can I do you for?’ He used English for the first time.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind but we’ve come to visit.’

  ‘We? Who’s we?’

  He could not see the twins tucked down by the side of the wall. I pulled them into view. ‘Me and Sion and Sian,’ I replied.

  His smile broadened. ‘Come in, look you. Come on in.’

  He ushered us through the door, the twins shuffling their feet so slowly it was maddening, but he didn’t seem to mind. We went into the living room and sat awkwardly at the table while he went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

  ‘It’s just like ours,’ whispered Sian. ‘Where do you think he keeps the bats and things?’

  ‘Shshsh and don’t be silly,’ I whispered back, ‘he’ll hear you.’ Her eyes opened wide with fright and her hand flew to her mouth. ‘I told you, he’s just a nice old man.’

  He came back in with four cups and the tea pot. The twins fidgeted as he looked at them, still with the same broad smile on his face.

  ‘And so you’re the young lady that takes such pleasure in knocking my door and running away, are you?’

  Sian looked at him in horror. ‘Please, sir . . .’ she began.

  ‘Tut, tut, don’t apologise. I used to do the same when I was a little boy,’ he admitted.

  ‘You did?’ asked Sion.

  ‘Of course I did. You don’t think you children invented the game do you? Why I can even remember your mother doing the very same thing,’ he chuckled. ‘She thought she was being original too. Now let’s see about this tea.’

  For an hour we listened to his stories about the old days and about mining when he was a boy. Suddenly I realised it was past time to meet Da in the allotment and I got up to go.

  The twins were about to follow, but Mr Price said: ‘I have a biscuit or two . . . .’ They decided to stay. Biscuits were a little known luxury.

  The allotment was further up the hill, behind the last row of houses. The land, like most of the valley, belonged to the mine owners but because it was unsuitable for anything else they allowed the villagers to grow vegetables there. The soil was tough, rocky and unyielding, at first. Hard work, tons of good soil brought up from the river and a lot of time had finally given us land, which was productive. It was Da’s greatest pleasure, even after a hard shift, to work in the allotment and watch things grow.

  I ran past the last house, badly winded but determined to run all the way as a test. O
ut of breath I gasped my apologies for being late and explained why.

  ‘What made you do that?’ He stood stretched, his hands in the small of his back. He was still covered with coal dust from the mine; he had not yet been home.

  I shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. I suppose I just felt sorry for him. No one ever seems to visit him much. I thought he must be pretty lonely, that was all. Sion and Sian are still there. At least they were when I left. He persuaded them to stay with some biscuits.’

  Da chuckled. ‘I don’t suppose our Sian could resist that, could she boyo?’

  ‘You’re right Da, she couldn’t. What do you want me to do?’

  For an hour I helped. I dug, lifted out the smallest stones and pulled up weeds. Although I did not mind the work I did not get the same pleasure from it as Da. I had told him so once and he had said that was because I had not been underground and so I wasn’t able to appreciate the joy of something green growing in fresh air, the sun on my back.

  Although it had stopped raining earlier in the afternoon the sky was threatening again and so we packed up early. Just as we reached home, the rain started again.

  Da looked up and frowned. ‘That’s too much,’ he murmured, ‘too much.’

  The twins had not yet returned and by the time supper was ready I was sent to fetch them. They were in high spirits and came home reluctantly. They had promised Mr Price that they would visit him again soon.