SERIAL Chasing The Tide by Pamela Ormondroyd
As they awaited the train to Swansea, Nedra’s talk of the city made Rhona long for a different life . . .
IT was Saturday morning and the quaint and normally quiet village railway station was a cacophony of bustle and colour. Excitable, talkative ladies, clutching their wares and dressed in their splendid Welsh finery of red and black dresses and close-fitting bonnets, waited expectantly for the Swansea train.
Only Nedra refused to comply with the national costume, her reasoning being that, since she was no longer classed as a juvenile, she was capable of making her own choices.
This, in turn, meant she could at least now determine her own choice of clothing.
She was wearing a vivid blue dress with an enormous sash and slightly revealing neckline.
She seemed to be trying to distance herself from the other cockle women by positioning herself further along the platform and behind a pillar.
She did manage to catch Rhona’s eye, however, and waved to her, indicating that she should join her.
Rhona was reluctant at
first, but eventually managed to shuffle away from the main group without being noticed.
“What a wonderful day.” Nedra sighed, looking wistful. “The sun will bring folk out to the beach and I shall rid myself of these beastly cockles in no time.
“After which I shall be off, Rhona.”
“Off where?” Rhona asked.
She was always obliged to remain at her market stall in the town until the last cockles had been sold.
“To the Kardomah. I told you about it, Rhona. It’s where all the artists hang out: poets, writers, musicians and the like.”
Rhona thought for a moment and did recall Nedra once telling her about a handsome young actor who tried to persuade her that she was made for the stage.
Rhona had smiled to herself then, for Nedra had always been easily taken in by a little flattery.
Nevertheless, the picture Nedra had painted of the popular café in the centre of Swansea did make it sound an interesting place, and Rhona couldn’t deny she was curious, if not a little envious.
“Why don’t you come with me?” Nedra suggested.
“Your mam can’t possibly expect you to stand on your feet all day, Rhona.”
Rhona shrugged, a little put out that all she had to offer was the same old excuse.
“I mustn’t let Mam do too much today. She hasn’t been well, remember. She has to take it easy.”
“It’s your loss, Rhona.” Nedra sighed, her tone suggesting she was tiring of her pal’s regular excuses.
Rhona looked across at Bronwen, who was making her views well known in the midst of the crowd.
Rhona thought she looked the picture of health on this fine morning and decided not to pursue the point.
“Just think of all that wonderful company you’ll be missing out on,” Nedra continued. “Inspiring music and artistic flair. I shall enjoy myself until the very last minute.”
The train roared in and doused the passengers in a cloud of steam before shunting noisily to a halt.
As the carriages filled up and the engine pulled away again, the women waved to the menfolk who had come to see them off on the short journey into town.
There would be more men waiting later, for the afternoon train was nicknamed the Relish Train on account of the tasty morsels and treats the women brought back with them when sales went well.
Once the women arrived in Swansea they discovered the town was bustling.
It felt more like an early summer’s day with people dressed in lighter, brighter clothing, as if joyful that winter had been banished, albeit temporarily.
Not only was the beach crowded, but the trams along the front were full, too, bringing in shoppers from all along the coast, so that the streets were noisy and packed with prospective customers.
Rhona took a deep breath and watched the crowds for a moment or so.
Swansea always seemed so alive compared to her sleepy village, even if the constant noise and rush sometimes made her feel giddy.
In the distance, moored down at the docks, she could make out the Glen
Gower gleaming from its annual spring clean and now set for summer trips.
Her heart sank when she realised that her dream of taking her parents for a special outing on the paddle steamer had been dashed when she used her savings to pay for the doctor when her mother was ill.
A few moments later, however, Rhona was shaken from her thoughts by a pull on her sleeve.
Bronwen was eager to get going, so the pair hurried off to their usual market spot, where they set up their tiny stall with numerous baskets of cockles.
Sales went well and just a few hours later there were only a handful of baskets left, for it seemed that half the town had a fancy for cockles that day.
Bronwen had brought a stool to sit on. Although she looked tired, there was colour in her cheeks and a smile on her lips as she counted the takings.
“Take yourself off, Rhona,” she suddenly said.
Rhona looked round from rearranging her wares, a little puzzled.
“Go on,” Bronwen said, handing her daughter a few coins and waving her away.
“We’ve done well today and I know you like looking at the fashions in Olwyn’s window. Take an hour or so and get yourself a bite to eat while you’re at it.”
“But, Ma, don’t you want me to –”
“Get off with you before I change my mind.”
Rhona didn’t take any more persuading. She took off her hat, discarded her shawl, untied her apron strings and did as she was told.
It wasn’t often she had a chance to look in the fancy shop windows.
A few minutes later, Rhona was strolling with purpose along the high street.
Yet, however much she would normally have loved to take a peek at the latest fashions in her favourite clothes shop, Rhona decided Olwyn’s store could wait.
She was free! Free to take herself off anywhere.
She tried to remember the instructions Nedra had given her for the Kardomah and felt a tremble of excitement in her stomach.
She was just getting close to the crossroads, unused to the volume of people flooding the pavements, when someone tapped her shoulder.
She turned.
A familiar face smiled at her and, at first, she didn’t know quite what to say. “Hello, Rhona.” “Bryn!” She was surprised to see her neighbour looking smart and handsome in a suit.
“Yes, it’s me!” He smiled. “I’m off to the match. The Swans are playing at home today.”
“Oh, really? Ma’s given me a bit of time off from the stall and I’m hoping to take a look at –”
“Have you time for a cup of tea?” Bryn interrupted.
He took hold of Rhona’s hands and looked so earnest she could hardly refuse.
“I won’t keep you long. We didn’t finish our conversation from the
Rhona was free! Free to take herself off anywhere!
other day.”
Rhona’s heart was beating nineteen to the dozen.
She had never taken tea with a young man before and she felt a little daring, though she tried hard not to show it.
There would be something strangely empowering about sitting in a café with a young man her mother detested so.
She knew she was being disloyal, but she didn’t care any more. She was free!
Bryn ushered her into a passageway and through a door with a jangling bell.
It was a small café, tucked away from all the noise of town.
They sat by the window at a table adorned with a gingham tablecloth and a small vase of fresh violas.
Bryn ordered two teas and two slices of bara brith.
“I’m sorry I left you so abruptly that evening,” he said as he stirred his drink.
“I thought Nedra was joking when she asked me to show her a cormorant’s nest. She’s never shown any interest before.” Rhona chuckled.
“If only you knew Nedra as well as me!
“She is full of surprises, Bryn,” she added. “Did you find the nest?”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “When Nedra realised she’d have to battle through the marsh and wade
through the mud, she said she’d save it for another day.”
He stretched his hand across the table, almost touching her own.
“But it’s you I want to talk about.”
Rhona felt her heart beat faster.
“You and me,” he continued. “I want to mend the rift between our families.
“I think I could persuade my father to speak with yours if he is agreeable, to try to clear the air.” Rhona smiled. “You’d have to get past my mam first,” she said softly. “Though I am on your side, Bryn.
“Pa is so lonely and cut off. If only he could be accepted, things would seem so much better for us all.
“I know he had a reputation once of being a troublemaker, but that was a long time ago and he’s come to terms with the past now.
“My mam knows you helped me the night she became ill, but she’s too stubborn to admit it. Your haste made all the difference.
“I shan’t forget your help that night.”
Bryn took her hand lightly and she blushed and looked down at the table.
“Those words mean a lot to me, Rhona,” he told her.
He sat back in his chair and looked out of the window, lost in his thoughts.
“You know how we spoke about dreams and hopes the other night?”
“Idle chatter, Bryn,” she replied nervously. “But yes, I have times when I feel stuck, but it’s what I’ve always known.
“Anyway, what else could I do? I was useless at school; the teacher was always telling me so.”
“Don’t put yourself down so. You’ve been blessed with an amazing voice, Rhona.
“The song of an angel. I could listen to you singing all day.”
Bryn blushed this time and awkwardly twiddled his fingers.
Then he smiled, leaned across and gently moved her curls away from her cheek.
Rhona pulled away a little and Bryn retracted, cursing his sudden boldness.
“What are your own dreams, Bryn?”
He was looking right into her eyes and she shuffled in her chair.
“I won’t be down the mine all my life, that’s for sure. It’s no life for someone who yearns every second to be out in the open air.
“One day I shall have saved enough to buy a piece of land, maybe down on the salt marsh.
“I’ll build a little house, own a few cattle and sheep and spend all my time breathing in the sea air, tending my animals and keeping an eye on all the visitors to our shores. “That’ll do for starters.” Rhona smiled.
“I’m surprised, Bryn. I’ve learned so much about you in such a short time.”
He came alive when he spoke of his plans, his eyes sparkled and he had such an open smile.
“It all sounds lovely,” she added. Then she sighed. “It’s been pleasant talking with you, Bryn, but I must head back.”
“Just one more thing, Rhona,” he said, gently taking hold of her arm.
“Would you come to the Coronation party with me next week?
“I’ve heard they’re putting on a good spread with music and dancing on the green.
“It sounds like fun and I’d be so proud to have you on my arm.”
“Are you asking me out on a date, Bryn Thomas?” she teased. Then the smile left her face.
“There’s no way I can go to the King’s Coronation street party. Mam has already said we won’t be going.
“Besides, I have no pretty dress. I’ve never been anywhere grand enough to wear one.”
Rhona stood up and Bryn looked confused.
Tears appeared in her eyes. Her loyalties were suddenly so divided.
Her chair scraped the floor and the table wobbled, causing the teacups to topple over.
“I’m sorry, Bryn. I really do have to get back. Mam will be waiting and we have a train to catch.”
Rhona turned and flew out of the door.
****
Bryn felt deflated. He threw his payment into a saucer and walked, grimfaced, to the door.
It had all gone wrong. Knowing her difficult situation, he should have waited a little longer and chosen a better time.
Now he’d made things worse and Rhona would be certain to avoid him more than ever.
He stood in the passageway and leaned against the brick wall. He was hardly in the mood for a football match now.
Then he took a deep breath and composed himself.
He wasn’t going to lose her. He wouldn’t allow Bronwen to keep them apart a moment longer.
He was in love with Rhona Evans and, one way or another, he would put things right and make her his own.
****
Rhona hurried along the high street, feeling that her happiness was in tatters.
What must Bryn think of her now, dashing away like that?
How rude she had been, when all he had been was kindness itself.
He would want nothing to do with her now.
If only she could have been honest with him, explained how difficult she found things.
But it was too late. The tears rolled down her cheeks and she was aware of people looking at her curiously, but she didn’t care.
She just wanted to get home.
She stopped at the corner and turned to her right, then her left, then pulled up suddenly and looked all around.
In her haste she had taken the wrong road and now wasn’t sure how to get back to the market.
She searched for a street name or a signpost, but neither made sense to her.
Then she heard shouting behind her and turned back to see Nedra strolling along the street, arm in arm with two flamboyantly dressed fellows.
One was tall and clad in a purple suit with a beret style hat on his head; the other was shorter, with long, curly hair and dressed in a frilly white shirt and bright green trousers, carrying a music case.
The three of them stood out a mile, catching the eye of all who passed by.
“Rhona! You decided to come!” Nedra broke free of her companions and ran to greet her friend.
“If only you’d arrived earlier. You’ve missed all the entertainment.”
She turned to the taller of the men.
“James read some of his wonderful poetry and Oliver played his violin. It sent shivers down my spine.”
She signalled to the two men to come forward while Rhona wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and tried to look happy.
Nedra, however, was so wrapped up in her own delight that she didn’t notice how dishevelled or upset her friend looked and gabbled on regardless.
“Oliver, this is my friend Rhona. She’s the one I told you about, who sings like an angel,” Nedra continued. “Rhona, you will give us a tune, won’t you?”
“No, I’m sorry, not now,” Rhona replied, trying her best to be polite despite feeling utterly miserable. “I’m late back already, Nedra. My mam . . .”
Nedra sighed deeply and folded her arms.
“Oh, honestly, Rhona, you’re such a –”
Then, quite out of the blue, Oliver intervened.
“Now, Nedra, don’t go into a sulk. You can see your friend is embarrassed.”
He turned to Rhona, bowed low in a sweeping theatrical
fashion, then took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Another time, maybe, sweet Rhona,” he said. “I shall look forward to it.”
****
It was just bad luck that Bryn was heading down the same street on his way to the football ground at that very moment.
He quickly picked out the group of four just a few doors down from the Kardomah, then took a second, closer look.
He couldn’t believe his eyes – for the same girl he felt he had been getting close to only 10 minutes before was now engaged in conversation with another man.
He stopped in his tracks. Rhona was smiling at the fellow and he even held her hand in his.
So this was why she had turned down his invitation to the Coronation party.
She’d had no intention of meeting up with her mother, either, for she had arranged to see some secret admirer.
Bryn had seen enough and, keeping his head down, he crossed the road, hurt and angry. Why hadn’t she told him the truth?
His whole world was crushed in an instant.
****
The weekend passed and Monday at dawn had a decided edge and rawness about it.
It hardly seemed possible that, two days before, everyone had been bathed in sunshine.
“Can you now understand why I love my new friends so much, Rhona?” Nedra asked as she harnessed her pony to the cockle cart. “They’re inspiring and full of life.
“Oliver has fixed up an audition for me at the Grand next Saturday, so this may be my last week on the sea. Gosh, I do hope so.”
Rhona was only half listening. Her mind was still on Bryn, as it had been ever since their encounter in the café.
“To think I once set my cap at that dull as ditchwater Thomas lad,” Nedra continued. “I doubt the fellow can barely read or write.
“I’ve had a lucky escape, I can tell you.”
Rhona felt a sudden fury run through her bones.
How dare her friend deride Bryn so? He was a good, kind and honest man.
He would never have spoken about Nedra like that.
“Don’t you think you’re getting a bit above your station, Nedra?” she said as she drew her pony from the stable.
“Your new friends might spout poetry and speak with a posh accent, but that doesn’t make them better than the rest of us who work hard for a living.
“In fact, in many ways, I expect they are quite selfish, vain and false. You are welcome to them.”
Nedra swung round. She could be cutting when roused, as well Rhona knew.
“Well, I doubt they’d want anything to do with an under-the-thumb, miserable little cockle girl such as yourself, Rhona Evans,” she snapped as she set off.
Rhona stared after her for a moment, trembling with anger.
Then her mother yelled at her to get a move on and she took a deep breath and walked over to where Bronwen was examining one of the cartwheels.
“Winter’s back with a vengeance.” Bronwen sighed as she looked at the two rusty screws in her hand.
“You’ll have to leave the trap here today, Rhona. The wheel needs attention.
“Take the pony and tie a couple of baskets to it, then you must wrap up.
“It will be colder out at sea with the mist low and no wind to shift it.”
Bronwen was a lot better after her illness, but still not fit enough to make the long journey across the sands.
Besides, she now needed to get the cart fixed for the following day.
Rhona, meanwhile, was still smarting.
It seemed that lately she had managed to fall out with everyone she was fond of.
Distracted and annoyed, she took no heed of her mother’s advice and dressed hurriedly, forgetting to put on an extra vest and jumper and wearing only a pair of thin gloves.
As she rode the little pony after the other women over the sands, she suddenly realised how cold she was.
She had only eaten half her breakfast and had left a cup of tea on the kitchen table.
She flapped her arms about, then got off the pony and walked a while to try to warm up.
Nedra and the other women were up ahead.
The girls hadn’t spoken again that morning, and by the way Nedra had looked at her fleetingly as they set off, it seemed it would remain that way for the rest of the day.
Fortunately, the women appeared to have decided between them that it was not a good day to go out too far, seeing as it was the season for high tides and the mist was thicker out at sea.
Rhona was relieved when they stopped only a mile away from the mainland and started their digging.
It was a comfort to her that she had only two baskets to fill and that it wouldn’t take long to get back home.
Rhona set to and started sifting the sand, but after a short while her numbed fingers wouldn’t work and, bothered constantly by oystercatchers, her task was laboriously slow.
She couldn’t seem to warm herself up by her actions, either, unaware that she was rapidly losing body heat and that hypothermia was close to setting in.
She began to despair when, after a few hours, she had only filled one sack. It wasn’t like her to be slow.
Her head began to swirl and she realised she missed Nedra’s constant distracting chatter.
Gradually she lost all sense of time and became disorientated.
“Come on, Rhona. Time to go.”
After a few hours, the women were turning back and Rhona looked up to see Nedra.
She looked aloof and stern, but at least she spoke this time.
“It’s spring tides and the water is coming in quicker than normal. Best hurry.”
Rhona pulled the second basket from the pony. If she could just fill it halfway, her catch wouldn’t seem so meagre.
“Yes, I’m on my way,” she mumbled.
She stooped to scoop up more of the shifting sand and filter it through the tray, unaware that her pony, conditioned to follow the pack, had followed the women back to land.
When she finally looked up, she could barely see the animal.
“Come back,” she called. She made an attempt to whistle but no sound came.
She tried to move one foot in front of the other to go after the pony, but her legs wouldn’t work and she collapsed on to the wet sand.
Nedra, whose cart was far ahead by that point, was surprised to see Rhona’s pony beside her, and looked back in time to see her friend fall.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Nedra turned her cart round and went back to help.
****
Bryn had done something completely out of character. He had overslept.
Having tossed and turned half the night, and decided that the village held no future for him, he had fallen into a deep sleep just before dawn and hadn’t heard the klaxon calling the men to the mine.
He rolled out of bed and looked down into the courtyard.
The cocklers had gone and it was too late to go into work now, for the lift wouldn’t be in use again until the next shift.
He would lose wages, of course, but Bryn had already made up his mind to seek employment on one of the ships in Swansea’s dock.
Now he had a few hours to stroll down to the salt marsh, to be out in the crisp air that always lifted his spirits.
He dressed, cut himself a slice of bread and a piece of cheese, picked up his binoculars and headed off for the bay.
****
Rhona lay on the sand, barely conscious, her strength spent.
Alone and unable to summon help, she was aware that she was now at the mercy of the sea.
She could feel the spray on her cheeks and closed her eyes. She was so tired.
Then she felt a warm breath on her forehead and opened her eyes to see someone leaning over her with a look of fear on her face.
“Rhona, can you hear me? It’s Nedra. You must get up this second.” Rhona shook her head. “Just leave me, Nedra,” she mumbled.
“Don’t talk nonsense. One big effort, Rhona, and we’ll get you in that cart. We must move fast. The water is closing in already.”
She placed her arms around Rhona’s chest and tried to force her up.
The cart was just feet away, but Rhona was a dead weight.
“You’re a good person, Nedra,” Rhona whispered. “I’m sorry that we quarrelled.”
“Me, too,” Nedra replied. As the two women looked behind them, they heard the roar of the water and saw the waves thundering ever closer.
****
Bryn watched the sandpipers with their long beaks pecking at the mud.
Overhead, a few seagulls screeched, then flew up into the mist that would linger most of the day.
He felt much calmer now he had come to a decision.
If he was lucky, over the next few years he would work his passage round the world, save his money, then make his dreams of acquiring his own smallholding come true.
He loved this bay; it would always have a special place in his heart. If he didn’t find his Utopia here, he would find it somewhere equally pleasant.
Whenever and wherever that would be, he prayed enough time would have elapsed for him to have erased Rhona from his mind.
He heard the chatter of voices and lowered his binoculars to see the cocklers heading to shore.
They didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get home, but were all huddled together in heated debate, some with arms waving, looking out to sea.
Bryn followed their gaze and his eyes alighted on two figures in the distance.
He refocused his lens and, half a mile out, picked out Nedra and Rhona.
The latter was lying on the sand, while the other appeared to be trying to pull her up.
It took him only a second to realise the girls were in serious trouble, for behind them the water was rolling in at tremendous pace.
He lunged forward, leaping over the cliff and down to the bay at breakneck speed.
“I’m coming, Rhona!” he gasped out. “I’m coming.”
The women shouted to him as he tore along the beach, grabbed one of the carts and headed out to sea.
It was a race against time. He’d heard the stories of women lost to the sea and he urged the pony on with all the effort he could muster.
Meanwhile, Rhona and Nedra clung together, looking despairingly at the rushing incoming tide, as water spilled over their feet.
To be concluded.