Rhiannon – A Boarding School Servant

By Charlotte Ryton

1938. Rhiannon is a happy scholarship student at a High School in Cardiff. But when times become hard, she is forced to leave school and work as a nursery and kitchen maid.

The war begins and her home, workplace, and all she knows are blown to pieces. As a result, she has to go to work as a maid at a boarding school in the country. Rhiannon is surrounded by schoolgirls, no cleverer than her, learning and playing while she toils from 5am to 10pm.

When she borrows a book from the school library, to get her First Class Badge, she is accused of stealing and is told the books ‘are for young ladies not for the likes of you’. But when a schoolteacher insists on helping her, she gets to study with the Royal Society of Arts and gets the opportunity to join a local Guide Company.

But things become tricky when Rhiannon’s best friend comes to the school as a pupil. Can pupils and servants be friends, or is the divide between the rich and poor too wide?

Will Rhiannon get the chance to prove to those around her that being a maid is just as good and important as being a pupil?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Jun 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9781805149248

Charlotte Ryton

Charlotte Ryton worked as a maid in a boarding school before attending University. She then went on to teach in various schools and wrote historical plays. She was involved in the productions of Daughters of Jerusalem, Katherine the Queen (which she wrote with her father, Royce Ryton) and Sergeant Daisy. Charlotte lives in Hampshire and Rhiannon is her first book published with Troubador Publishing. 

Book preview

Contents

Chapter One

All Change

Rhiannon hurried down the street from the library eager to read her new book, Alice Leads the Fourth. Her friends said it was, Really like a real school but with really ripping adventure and really…

Miss Henry, their form mistress who also taught them History and English, asked if they knew a different adverb. How about ‘truly’ or ‘genuinely’ or even that old cliché ‘very’?

As Rhiannon reached her house, she was almost hit by a flying ball. Her brothers and their friends were making the most of the May sunshine that Saturday to get some practice in with Gareth’s new football – an eleventh birthday present from their parents last week.

Mind out, you, she called as she went through the alley round to the back to the scullery door – no-one in their street used the front door.

In the kitchen her parents and Nana were so deep in their discussion that they barely noticed her as she skipped through to the front room to have a quiet read but something in Dad’s tone caught Rhiannon’s attention and stopped her. Hitler is bound to bomb Cardiff with the docks, he was saying yet again, after all even with the drop in trade we shift more coal than anywhere else in the country, so we need to send the children away.

But Nana said in a hopeful way, He said he wouldn’t invade anywhere else so maybe it will all blow over.

Dad shook his head. He said he wouldn’t invade Czechoslovakia and he did. One of the sailors from that ship from Hamburg told me their Führer wanted to get more land. And this sailor has managed to get his family over to America and was going to join them. No, I am sure eventually we will have to go to war and that means bombing so we need to get the children away from the danger area.

Nana snorted but Mam nodded her agreement. Eleni and Rhys will have them I am sure.

Dad’s sister Eleni with her husband Uncle Rhys ran a small farm near Brecon. The Morgans usually had their summer holidays there but, but… Rhiannon hesitated before butting in.

What about school? she asked trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

Dad put his hand on her shoulder. I’m really, truly sorry, cariad, but you were going to have to leave your school anyway. We can’t afford to keep you there with me being on short-time and all the medical bills we’ve had, and, he cleared his throat, that debt for Daffyd’s funeral.

Rhiannon felt a big lump in her throat. She blinked and gulped to hold back her tears and managed to croak, You mean…

Mam took her other hand. Even with your scholarship we’re struggling especially with Carys being so frail.

Nana sighed, And I’m not as nippy on me pins as I was.

Rhiannon nodded. She knew how hard things were. The Coronation biscuit tin had been put away ages ago. Mam spent less than ever at the butcher’s and their meals were mostly potatoes or bread. Mam had even started saying she wasn’t hungry and putting her share on her children’s plates, or just had a bit of gravy with her potato while the rest of the family had meat. When Rhiannon had suggested she should do the same, though, her Mam was fierce. You are growing and need to have meat.

Rhiannon had just hoped and hoped she could stay at her school, get school certificate, and maybe go to college and be a teacher. Then she would have a good salary and be able to look after her parents and siblings.

Everyone had been so proud when she won that scholarship to the Betsi Cadwaladr High School for Girls. They had all had such dreams but that was before work dried up at the docks and, far worse, diphtheria struck the family. They had to pay the doctors’ fees, even though Dr Wyatt hadn’t charged anything, but the hospital specialist had been expensive, as had all the medicines. Then there was the cost of little Daffyd’s funeral as they couldn’t bear for him to lie unmarked in a pauper’s grave.

She looked up at her parents and knew that they were as upset as she was – maybe more so. She managed a sort of grin. Well I’ve had two years anyway and with war perhaps coming probably everything would change.

And you’ll be able to keep in touch with your friends. You’re a good letter writer. Aunt Eleni always says so. And maybe we’ll find a way for you to go to college later.

At school Rhiannon’s friends were sympathetic when she told them she had to leave because of the war coming, but Glenda tossed her head. That’s stupid. My Dad says the war won’t happen. He says it’ll be like last year when Mr Chamberlain came back saying ‘peace in our time’.

Miss Henry came into the form room then and heard that. I fear you are wrong, Glenda. Hitler promised not to invade Czechoslovakia and he did. When he invades the next country I am afraid we will have to do something to stop him, or he will just go on and on until he is master of Europe.

That’s horrible.

It is. As some of you know I was teaching at a boarding school in the Austrian alps until the year before the Anschluss when Hitler invaded and took Austria over. I came here but the school continued, and some of the stories my ex-colleagues told me about their experiences and how they escaped are simply hair-raising.

Miriam, one of the Jewish girls who had arrived at Easter, agreed. Hitler is a devil. He does terrible things to people. I do not think he will stop destroying other countries until he is dead.

They were talking about bombing on the news last night, someone at the back called out. Then one of Rhiannon’s friends chimed in, We’re building a bomb shelter in our garden.

We did that last year too, Glenda said in an argumentative way.

And we’ve all got gas masks – though I am not sure where mine is.

Nor me.

The dog chewed mine ages ago.

They’ll issue new ones, Miss Henry reassured them.

Crumbs. I wouldn’t lose mine. My uncle was gassed in the last war, and he still can’t breathe sometimes.

One girl with wide frightened eyes said, The papers said they could pour clouds of gas on us and kill us all.

And what about our pets? They haven’t got masks.

Someone said that he’s got bombs that can flatten a city in seconds.

Supposing he invades. They could drop out of the sky.

And their submarines can creep into our harbours and…

Miss Henry interrupted the babble of frightened voices.

Come now. Be sensible and brave. We are an island and have the strongest navy in the world. Your parents will probably do the same as Rhiannon’s parents and send you to safer areas. Or else you’ll move with the school as the government has plans to move schools in dangerous areas to safer places. And don’t you remember who this school is named for? Betsi Cadwalladr. Remember how she was a nurse in the Crimea and faced all sorts of dangers. We must be brave like her. Now go to your places, settle down while I call the register.

They couldn’t talk any more as Miss Henry called them to order and took the register: Bronwen Andrews… Caroline Bennett-Rhys… Margaret Bevan… Miriam Cohen… Angharad Collins… and finished with Barbara Wilson… Hilary Wyatt.

Only, as they walked down the corridor to Latin, her best friend, Winifred, took her hand and whispered, It isn’t just the war is it, Ree?

She shook her head. She didn’t mind telling Win who was also on a scholarship. We can’t afford it now Dad’s on half-time and we’re still paying off the medical bills from diphtheria, even though Hilary’s father didn’t charge us anything and then… then there was Daffyd’s funeral.

Win gave her hand a squeeze. Neither liked remembering February, and that awful day, just three months back, when Win had lost her littlest sister and Rhiannon’s youngest brother had also died.

But, Rhiannon said in a determinedly cheerful way, thanks to Hilary’s father, we saved baby Carys and we really thought she would go as well.

Rhiannon Morgan. No talking in the corridor. Take an order mark, said a stern voiced prefect.

Win gave her hand another squeeze and followed her into the classroom for Latin.

Salvete puellae, the mistress said, and all forty-one girls chorused, Salve, domina.

Sedete nunc.

Rhiannon pushed her future to one side and concentrated on lessons while she could.

The third of June was her thirteenth birthday. Rhiannon was able to temporarily forget that she was leaving as Mam and Dad had planned a special treat for her.

It’s instead of a birthday present, cariad.

And it will be a leaving party as well. When the term ends you have your Guide camp and then we all go for our holiday to Aunt Eleni and Uncle Rhys, and then, well, you already know that you’ll be staying there.

Dad took Rhiannon and her three closest friends: Angharad, Hilary and Winifred to a matinée at the Olympia Cinema to see The Man in the Iron Mask. Rhiannon thoroughly enjoyed the film and the ice cream in the interval. She thought that was a marvellous birthday treat and was about to say ‘thank you,’ but then Dad took her to the Methodist Church Hall where more of her friends were waiting with her brothers and sisters. Mam had managed a splendid tea with sausage rolls, two kinds of sandwich – sardine and egg – chocolate biscuits, Welsh cakes, and a big sponge cake with icing and candles. And to her surprise Miss Henry was there but not as form teacher but as her Guide Captain and had a gift for her – a Guide story called Judy Leads the Robins.

That’s ripping, thank you Miss… Skipper. Jacqueline Vickery – I’ve read another of hers about a school.

Miss Henry – no Skipper at the moment – smiled. She is a splendid writer, and do you know she was at the school I taught at in Austria so I knew her a little – she was a senior and that time I only taught juniors.

Did she have to escape the Nazis too.

Oh, yes, I heard that she disguised herself as a shepherd boy. It would be like her though I don’t know if that’s true. Anyway they all escaped and are now in France somewhere, Skipper grinned then, it wouldn’t surprise me if she doesn’t get another book out of that. Now you had better go and open the rest of your presents.

Her brothers had clubbed together to get her a new pencil case and little Myfanwy, no doubt with Mam’s help, had chosen some soap. Her friends had bought her an address book.

Had a good birthday, cariad? Dad asked that evening.

Top-hole, Dad.

Then came all the end of term activities. She was an also-ran in the running races but in the school swimming gala she managed to come third in her year. A week later there was prize giving and she found she had won prizes for Science, French and English. She stroked her three new books: Marvels of Modern Science; L’Ile Noir and Realms of Gold: An Anthology of Poems and Stories. She just missed the Mathematics prize being beaten by Win who had gained four marks more than she had.

Goodness L’Ile Noir – that’s a comic book! said Hilary as she sat down beside her after collecting her prize for Latin, how lush of Mademoiselle.

She always tries to make lessons fun.

But, Win pointed out, "it is in French, and jolly hard French too."

Miss Henry glared at them to be quiet as the Mayor was making a speech.

After that came the concert part of prize giving and Rhiannon sang the Stevenson poem ‘The Roadside Fire’ set to music by Ernest Farrar as a solo and then joined the choir to sing some Welsh folksongs.

At the end several of the mistresses shook hands with her and said they were sorry she had to leave.

That wretched Hitler, said Miss Henry.

Her science teacher sighed and said she hoped it would blow over. Then the Headmistress came over: Goodbye, Rhiannon, we’re sorry to lose you. Try to keep up with your studies as you are a good little scholar.

Yes, ma’am, thank you, ma’am.

Guide camp this year was over the Bristol Channel in Minehead. They were joining some Somerset Guides that the Captain knew. She had been at college with their captain. The weather was warm and sunny, so they were able to spend loads of time on the beach. Rhiannon and Hilary both managed to swim fifty yards and so passed their 1st class swimming test. And they had an overnight hike to the Doone Valley.

Did Lorna Doone really live here?

Rhiannon grinned and saw Captain smother a laugh. Sadly, no, as Lorna Doone is in a story. It’s fictional.

On the last evening they had a campfire on the beach. Captain presented various badges and certificates. Then she called Rhiannon up to say goodbye.

You’ve been a valuable member of our company but I’m sure you’ll find a company in Brecon you can join. We will miss you and here is something the company want you to have, and she handed her a framed photograph of them all that had been taken earlier in the week.

Rhiannon gulped and managed to say thank you to everyone determinedly not crying.

She came home to find that packing had started. Some boxes had already gone, but there was plenty more to do.

Are we going away forever, said Myfanwy with her lip puckering up.

But Miffy you love being with Uncle Rhys and Aunt Eleni. There’ll be the dogs and cats and Dryw.

Dryw?

The pony, remember. You’ll have a lovely time.

And there’s a boat on the lake and trees to climb, Gareth put in.

And when school starts you’ll be going with Seren.

That made an enormous difference. Myfanwy was a shy child and had been dreading starting school but with her bold cousin Seren beside her she thought it would be fine.

The big holiday trunk that they took each year was soon full of their clothes. Then each child packed their own bag with the things that were precious. Gareth had his football, Meccano, and farm animals; Aled wanted his soldiers, paints and crayons; Owen his engine and cars and Myfanwy her two dolls. For Rhiannon it was books: her prize books, her birthday present Judy Leads the Robins, and her old favourites: Peg’s Patrol, Iseult of Idris School, The History and Legends of Wales, Wonder Book of Nature, The Young Scientist, Just So Stories, Hideaway Hamlet, The Brownie Adventure Book, The Velveteen Rabbit, and The Tale of Mrs Tiggy Winkle. She had had a couple of other Beatrix Potter books but had passed them down to her younger siblings, but Mrs Tiggy Winkle had To Rhiannon with love from your godmother, Auntie Eleni on the flyleaf, so she couldn’t part with that. And naturally she took the Girl Guide Handbook and some leaflets on particular badges. She looked at her bag and saw there was just room to push in her beloved old teddy bear as well. Gareth saw her do that and rescued his battered blue rabbit.

Better make sure the infants have their cuddlies as well, he said and fished out his brothers’ panda and clown. Rhiannon nodded and found ‘Scottie’ Myfanwy’s toy dog.

Then the last goodbyes. First to her closest friends.

Write to us, Ree, said Win, but Angharad pointed out that they would probably all be sent to separate places. Hilary nodded and then added diffidently, Actually I think Mummy and Daddy are thinking of sending me to a boarding school.

Hilary’s father was Dr Wyatt, so their family were much better off than the others.

Then they went to lay flowers on Daffyd’s grave.

He’ll be playing with Jesus, won’t he Rhiannon? Myfanwy said trustfully.

Of course, cariad, and it’s always sunny in heaven and there’s loads of sweeties.

Finally they said ‘goodbye’ to Nana, who hugged them all muttering rude comments about that nasty Hitler, making them go into the dreary countryside with its smelly animals. Nana was a town woman and didn’t listen when they said they liked the farm.

Come along. Our train is waiting for us.

Rhiannon grinned. Dad made it sound like their own private train.

The station was full of people going on holiday. No-one seemed to be thinking about war. Even the newspaper headlines were all about some big ancient ship that had been dug up in Suffolk.

Funny name that, said Aled, Sutton Hoo. Too wit too woo.

The boys all started making owl noises.

Rhiannon let the holiday excitement take over and bounced into the train as eagerly as Myfanwy and the boys, especially when she realised that Dad was coming with them.

Only for a couple of days, see.

Mam carried baby Carys who slept serenely through the noise and bustle.

The farm was as lovely as ever. It was five or six miles from Brecon itself just up the hill from Llangorse Lake where Uncle Rhys kept a small boat and sometimes managed to do a little fishing. The weather was good that summer, so they had picnics most days – on the tiny island in the lake or up on one of the hills. Gareth had just read Swallows and Amazons so insisted that they play pirates and explorers. Rhiannon joined in good humouredly and was pleased when Gareth said, You cook wizard campfire meals – like Susan in the book.

Rhiannon had read the book as well and thought that Susan was probably a Guide and had her Cook badge.

Naturally, they all helped with the work on the farm but that was fun in its own way. Rhiannon helped with the milking and soon got back into the rhythm of that, so her pail filled quickly. Myfanwy loved feeding the chickens and insisted on naming them. Rhiannon hoped she never knew that her favourites ‘Lottie’ or ‘Gertie’ ended up on the table though as they were good layers both were safe for now.

Of course the two big jobs on the farm in early summer were sheep shearing and haymaking. Rhiannon was busy helping Aunt Eleni taking pasties and bottles of cold tea to the men working on the hills and the fields. She preferred the haymaking for the bleating as the sheep were sheared and dowsed with dip nearly deafened her.

Dad only stayed a couple of days before going home to see if he could get more work on the docks. Mam followed a few days later with baby Carys.

Leave the baby with us, Florrie.

Mam hesitated but then shook her head, She still needs me. She’s only seven months. Not weaned yet, so too young to be without her Mam.

Myfanwy was tearful when Mam went and clung to Rhiannon. You’re not going away are you?

No, Miffy cariad, not me. I’m here.

Forever?

Rhiannon’s here for a year.

A year sounded like forever to five-year-old Myfanwy, but Rhiannon felt a jolt. A year. She would be fourteen and have to leave school and start work. Suddenly the reality of leaving the High School hit her. She must put aside her dreams of college and being a nurse or a teacher. She must accept that she would go into service as her Mam and her Aunt Eleni had done before her.

Muttering something about feeding the orphan lambs she disappeared into the old barn to find a private corner so no-one would see her cry. She was drying her eyes when Gareth found her.

It’s mean, he said aggressively, why should you have to leave when some of those stuck-up girls who are much stupider than you get to stay.

It’s the way the world is, she said blinking and sniffing, and don’t you go telling on me for blubbing.

Gareth didn’t deign to answer that but went on, Anyroad I’m glad you’re here with us. If you’d stayed at that High School you would’ve been sent somewhere else. And then I’d be landed with wiping Miffy’s tears and keeping Owen in order.

You will next year when I go to work.

Oh, well, I’ll be twelve then.

Rhiannon giggled then. He said it as if twelve was hugely different from eleven. Then looking back over the last few years, she thought maybe it was. She knew she had changed a great deal since this time last year.

She said something of that to Aunt Eleni later.

Of course you have, bach, you’re taller and getting to be a woman. And look at what’s happened to you? Diphtheria and you were terribly ill. Your Mam said you looked like a skeleton, and you’re still over thin. Losing little Daffyd. And now having to change all your future plans. And not just sad things but good things too. Winning that Guide prize and going to that special Coronation camp two years back. Then baby Carys being born – such a grand Christmas present for you all – and it’s a miracle that such a young baby survived the diphtheria.

But she’s still horribly delicate and needing medicine.

But she’s alive and she’ll get stronger with all your Mam’s care. Now, the men will want their tea, so we had better get moving.

The haymaking and shearing were soon over, and Uncle Rhys turned his attention to reseeding some of the meadowland and then came the wheat harvest – not that there was much of that as he only had a couple of fields good enough for such a greedy crop.

Still we’ll get all the harvest in with this weather.

All summer there were blue skies and bright sunshine that made the possibility of war seem incredible, yet each evening as they listened to the wireless the newsreader told of the increasing tension between Germany and Britain over Poland. Once or twice Rhiannon read an article in the Sunday Herald when Uncle Rhys had finished with it. At first these articles were hopeful that war could be avoided but as the weeks went by the columnists became increasingly doubtful.

Looking at her nephews’ and nieces’ anxious faces Aunt Eleni changed the subject. We need to get you entered at the school before all these evacuees arrive.

There was a general groan.

Perhaps school will be cancelled for the war, seven-year-old Owen said in hopeful tones.

You’ve a hope, said Gareth, probably means we have more lessons.

Aled said nothing but then he liked lessons unlike his brothers.

Rhiannon also said nothing but agreed to go down to the village with Aunt Eleni. First her aunt sorted out the boys, Myfanwy, and her own Seren with Miss Carter, the headmistress. Then she turned to Rhiannon.

And this is Rhiannon. She is thirteen but she was at High School on a scholarship as I told you.

Miss Carter looked at her sympathetically. A shame you had to leave but we’ll try and do something for you. Of course if this were twenty or even ten years ago I’d start you off as a pupil teacher, she sighed, but they’ve stopped that system now. Pupil teachers have to have school certificate before they start. And everything will be changing again now.

Now? asked Aunt Eleni.

Haven’t you heard? Parliament has just passed the Emergency Powers Bill.

Aunt Eleni sighed, Then it’s coming.

They went home in a sober mood. As soon as they were back Aunt Eleni started going through her stores.

They’ll be shortages, you’ll see, and rationing like there was last time. We won’t be too badly off with the farm but anything from abroad will be hit. Tea for example.

Rhiannon thought of all that came from abroad and made a list for her aunt: bananas, chocolate, cotton…

Cotton! I’ll buy some rolls of material then.

Uncle Rhys saw the list. Sugar. Maybe I’ll plant some sugar beet. Might make a bit of money there.

And we’d better get tons and tons of chocolate, that was Owen of course.

Can’t we grow cocoa beans in the greenhouse? Gareth asked. He had been impressed by Uncle