Ethel remembered him as a baby. She had been only five years old when he arrived, but she had been completely fascinated by him, his perfection and his vulnerability. Soon I’ll have a beautiful, helpless infant, she thought; and she did not know whether to feel happy or terrified.
Billy said: “Da’s going to have something to say about it, I expect.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” said Ethel. “I wish there was something I could do to make it right for him.”
Gramper came down. “Sacked, is it?” he said when he saw the suitcase. “Too cheeky, were you?”
Mam said: “Don’t be cruel, now, Papa. She’s expecting a baby.”
“Oh, jowch,” he said. “One of the toffs up there at the big house, was it? The earl himself, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Don’t talk daft, Gramper,” said Ethel, dismayed that he had guessed the truth so quickly.
Billy said: “It was a valet who came with a houseguest. Gone in the army now, he is. She doesn’t want us to go after him.”
“Oh, aye?” said Gramper. Ethel could tell he was not convinced, but he did not persist. Instead he said: “It’s the Italian in you, my girl. Your grandmother was hot-blooded. She would have got into trouble if I hadn’t married her. As it was she didn’t want to wait for the wedding. In fact-”
Mam interrupted: “Papa! Not in front of the children.”
“What’s going to shock them, after this?” he said. “I’m too old for fairy tales. Young women want to lie with young men, and they want it so badly they’ll do it, married or not. Anyone who pretends otherwise is a fool-and that includes your husband, Cara my girl.”
“You be careful what you say,” Mam said.
“Aye, all right,” said Gramper, and he subsided into silence and drank his tea.
A minute later Da came in. Mam looked at him in surprise. “You’re back early!” she said.
He heard the displeasure in her voice. “You make it sound as if I’m not welcome.”
She got up from the table, making a space for him. “I’ll brew a fresh pot of tea.”
Da did not sit down. “The meeting was canceled.” His eye fell on Ethel’s suitcase. “What’s this?”
They all looked at Ethel. She saw fear on Mam’s face, defiance on Billy’s, and a kind of resignation on Gramper’s. It was up to her to answer the question. “I’ve got something to tell you, Da,” she said. “You’re going to be cross about it, and all I can say is that I’m sorry.”
His face darkened. “What have you done?”
“I’ve left my job at Ty Gwyn.”
“That’s nothing to be sorry for. I never liked you bowing and scraping to those parasites.”
“I left for a reason.”
He moved closer and stood over her. “Good or bad?”
“I’m in trouble.”
He looked thunderous. “I hope you don’t mean what girls sometimes mean when they say that.”
She stared down at the table and nodded.
“Have you-” He paused, searching for appropriate words. “Have you been overtaken in moral transgression?”
“Aye.”
“You wicked girl!”
It was what Mam had said. Ethel cringed away from him, although she did not really expect him to strike her.
“Look at me!” he said.
She looked up at him through a blur of tears.
“So you are telling me you have committed the sin of fornication.”
“I’m sorry, Da.”
“Who with?” he shouted.
“A valet.”
“What’s his name?”
“Teddy.” It came out before she could think.
“Teddy what?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t matter? What on earth do you mean?”
“He came to the house on a visit with his master. By the time I found out my condition, he’d gone in the army. I’ve lost touch with him.”
“On a visit? Lost touch?” Da’s voice rose to an enraged roar. “You mean you’re not even engaged to him? You committed this sin… ” He spluttered, hardly able to get the disgusting words out. “You committed this foul sin casually?”
Mam said: “Don’t get angry, now, Da.”
“Don’t get angry? When else should a man get angry?”
Gramper tried to calm him. “Take it easy, now, Dai boy. It does no good to shout.”
“I’m sorry to have to remind you, Gramper, that this is my house, and I will be the judge of what does no good.”
“Aye, all right,” said Gramper pacifically. “Have it your way.”
Mam was not ready to give in. “Don’t say anything you might regret, now, Da.”
These attempts to calm Da’s wrath were only making him angrier. “I will not be ruled by women or old men!” he shouted. He pointed his finger at Ethel. “And I will not have a fornicator in my house! Get out!”
Mam began to cry. “No, please don’t say that!”
“Out!” he shouted. “And never come back!”
Mam said: “But your grandchild!”
Billy spoke. “Will you be ruled by the Word of God, Da? Jesus said: ‘I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.’ Gospel of Luke, chapter five, verse thirty-two.”
Da rounded on him. “Let me tell you something, you ignorant boy. My grandparents were never married. No one knows who my grandfather was. My grandmother sank as low as a woman can go.”
Mam gasped. Ethel was shocked, and she could see that Billy was flabbergasted. Gramper seemed as if he already knew.
“Oh, yes,” Da said, lowering his voice. “My father was brought up in a house of ill fame, if you know what that is; a place where sailors went, down the docks in Cardiff. Then one day, when his mother was in a drunken stupor, God led his childish footsteps into a chapel Sunday school, where he met Jesus. In the same place he learned to read and write and, eventually, to bring up his own children in the paths of righteousness.”
Mam said softly: “You never told me this, David.” She seldom called him by his Christian name.
“I hoped never to think of it again.” Da’s face was twisted into a mask of shame and rage. He leaned on the table and stared Ethel in the eye, and his voice sank to a whisper. “When I courted your mother, we held hands, and I kissed her cheek every evening until the wedding day.” He banged his fist on the table, making the cups shake. “By the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, my family dragged itself up out of the stinking gutter.” His voice rose again to a shout. “We are not going back there! Never! Never! Never!”
There was a long moment of stunned silence.
Da looked at Mam. “Get Ethel out of here,” he said.
Ethel stood up. “My case is packed and I’ve got some money. I’ll get the train to London.” She looked hard at her father. “I won’t drag the family into the gutter.”
Billy picked up her suitcase.
Da said: “Where are you going to, boy?”
“I’ll walk her to the station,” Billy said, looking frightened.
“Let her carry her own case.”
Billy stooped to put it down, then changed his mind. An obstinate look came over his face. “I’ll walk her to the station,” he repeated.
“You’ll do what you’re told!” Da shouted.
Billy still looked scared, but now he was defiant too. “What are you going to do, Da-throw me out of the house
