A Million Tears by Paul Henke

‘That’ll mean no money for rent, food, gas . . . nothing.’
    We sat in silence, each of us looking at the picture presented before us. It was not a pretty one.
    The talk became desultory and I was sent to bed. I could not fully understand what it would all mean because I had nothing to measure it against. Like Sian’s death, it was something different. I didn’t want to understand it.
    The next day it was Grandmother Osborne who woke me, her voice penetrating my sleep. I lay for a few minutes listening to her going on about the trouble. In some cack-handed, twisted way only she could see, she was trying to put the blame on Da.
    ‘You mark my words, Megan Griffiths,’ she said loudly, ‘just mark my words. There’s going to be trouble. Before we know it they’ll have the militia up from Cardiff and then what? Somebody will be killed before this is over and for what? Nothing. I know, I’ve seen it all before.’
    ‘I know you have, Mam. Evan and I dread it as much as you do but what can we do? Evan’s father . . .’
    ‘Bosh,’ interrupted Grandmother, ‘Evan’s father is no better than your husband is . . .’
    Reluctantly, I dressed. With me downstairs Grandmother tended not to say so much and at least that would spare Mam a little bit. I guessed she was sick and tired of hearing her mother going on about Da. It seemed to be getting worse, too, not better.
    ‘You’ll see my girl. They’ll have more meetings and nothing will come of it. Then they’ll try and persuade the men not to strike and promise more meetings. When one side is fed up then something will happen. Then . . . oh, good morning Dai,’ she broke off as I came through the curtain.
    ‘Morning,’ I said shortly.
    ‘Would you like something for breakfast, Dai?’ Mam asked, relieved to change the subject.
    ‘Yes, please. Where’s Sion?’
    ‘Gone to visit Uncle James. He said something about a new type of kite, which I must admit I didn’t fully understand. A boiled egg?’
    ‘That’ll be fine,’ I replied appreciating it. A boiled egg for breakfast was a luxury.
    From Grandmother’s sniff she thought so too.
    ‘More tea, Mam? It won’t be long brewing.’
    ‘Eh, I don’t think so. I’ve said all I came to say and ought to be on my way. I’ve some shopping to do. Take care of yourself, Dai,’ she added as she left.
    Both Mam and I heaved a sigh of relief.
    ‘What are you looking at me like that for, Dai?’ Mam asked, making me jump, breaking into my thoughts.
    ‘Nothing, Mam,’ I felt myself blush.
    ‘Come on, out with it. What were you thinking?’
    ‘Well,’ I hesitated, coughed. ‘Er, er, well, nothing really. It’s just I was thinking that’s all. Eh, what Da said to you once. He eh, said eh,’ I paused. ‘He said he’d drown you if you turned out like your mother and you said not to worry because you’d do it yourself. And then he said, I guess this is one time when instead of looking at the mother to see how her daughter will turn out one should look at the father. Something about that being against all the rules or something.’ I ended with another cough to cover my embarrassment.
    She laughed. ‘You’ve got an excellent memory. He was only joking but I have to admit that if I did become like your Grandmother I’d think about it.’ She became serious again. ‘She hasn’t been the same since Grandfather died. I suppose we ought to make allowances for her, but after two years the allowances get to be too much. I don’t know, I sometimes think she’s getting worse.’ With a shrug she went back to the kitchen to bake bread and cakes for the get together. I went back to dipping a piece of bread in my egg.
    It rained most of the day and I sat in front of the fire dreaming over my atlas. I was not in the mood to do any schoolwork and Mam was too busy to set me any, so I just sat and thought. About Sian mostly and I wondered for the millionth time if there really was such a place as heaven. I wanted to