“Some tea, some tea, my kingdom for some tea.”
“It seems the Royal Navy is chasing a German battleship around the Atlantic, and the Talisman will be involved covering the shipping routes. It will tie up in Greenock tomorrow evening and leave on the following tide.”
“With or without the Jewels?”
“Yes. So we have to go now.”
“We lose a day off, but that still gives us two days, though. You said that’s enough time to get to Greenock.”
“Yes, plenty.”
“If we’re too late, what do we do, stick a stamp on the Jewels and shove them in the nearest pillar box?”
“We’ll be on time easily enough, but only if we leave this instant.”
“I’ll meet you downstairs. I suppose there’s no chance of breakfast?”
To Caitrin’s surprise there was breakfast, made and served by Elinor.
“I heard Hector rushing around and assumed there was a sudden call to arms,” Elinor said as she poured Caitrin a cup of tea.
“You’re such an angel.”
“No, I’m just a mother,” Elinor said as she put a plate of bacon and eggs on the kitchen table in front of Caitrin and sat opposite her. “And I thought we should not wake Maude, and certainly not Edmund, just in case he starts singing again.”
“And it’s not the time to learn about the white man’s tragedy at the Little Bighorn either,” Caitrin said and put her hands to her face in mock horror. “George, mah dear, look at all those pesky Injuns!”
Caitrin sensed she was being studied. Elinor poured milk into her tea, concentrated on the roiling surface, and said, “I always wanted a daughter.”
“You would have enjoyed each other. But not named with a female version of Horace.”
Elinor looked up, and their eyes met. “I did actually have a Greek name for a girl. Atalanta.”
“I like that. It’s strong.”
“In Greek myth Atalanta was exceedingly beautiful, and she had a forceful personality.”
Caitrin said nothing but listened.
“She agreed to marry any man who could outrun her and speared anyone she passed. But wily Hippomenes had three golden apples and in the race he dropped one. Atalanta stopped to pick it up and lost when he shot past her, so she married him.”
“Beware of butterfingered Greeks bearing apples.”
“She was what we might today call a lusty lass with a passion for life. More than a bit like you, I should think.”
“Thank you.”
Elinor leaned forward and took her hand. “I do have a favor to ask of you.”
“Of course.”
“My son is strong and honest. Like his father, he believes in what he considers to be right and will defend it to the death,” she said and took both of Caitrin’s hands. “That does not necessarily mean he is worldly-wise. But I can tell that you are. My favor is, will you look after him for me?”
“I’ll try my best.”
“When my husband killed himself, Hector covered it up and said it was an accident. He did it for me, I know, but that is a heavy weight for him to bear alone. And an unfair weight.”
The English stiff upper lip will be the death of them all. Caitrin thought for a moment and said, “You could have told him you knew the truth.”
“I wasn’t brave enough.”
For Caitrin it was odd to listen to Elinor’s precise English diction while she opened her soul. It was so different from the emotional trilling of a Welsh voice. “You’re both bearing the weight, but separately, alone, because you don’t want to hurt him and he did it because he loves you.”
Elinor straightened, surprised. “We were a close family and cared about each other, but I don’t remember any of us talking much about love. It just wasn’t the done thing and would probably have embarrassed him and his father. Did your family tell each other?”
“Yes.”
“How fortunate. I feel the loss now. I really should have been braver,” Elinor said, and to Caitrin she was the loneliest woman in the world. Once she and Hector left, there would only be the Broadcastles for company, and they would revert to the safety of their cocoons of being servants. On her street in Abertillery—that smelly, dirty little coal town—Mrs. Parker lived next door to the Collines, and the happily boisterous Griffith family were on the right. Opposite was the Hughes family with their many children, who spent most of their time streaming in and out of Caitrin’s house, and next to them lived Jimmy Lummis, who looked after his mum, worked on the buses, always went on holiday by himself, and came home happy and filled with secrets. And he never forgot a birthday. They were all her family. It was always noisy on her street, at times annoying, but she was never lonely.
“Are you ready to leave?” Hector said as he appeared in the doorway. They followed him out to Victoria and Albert, who were, like Elinor’s old Wolseley, coated in frost.
Elinor embraced her son and walked around the other side of the car toward Caitrin. She pushed a package into her hands. “Some sandwiches. I know you will be in a hurry.”
“Thank you.”
Elinor hesitated for a moment, stepped closer, flung her arms around Caitrin, and whispered, “Another favor. When this is all over, will you come back and see me? I would so much like that.”
“I promise. Who’s going to stop me?” Caitrin kissed her cheek and whispered, “Not some wily Greek with gold-plated balls.”
