“Wait here, please,” he said, then he made his way to a door on the opposite side of the room. When he pulled it open Mair was standing behind it and she immediately bolted toward us. In her outstretched hands she carried a heavy-looking paper bag which whacked into my shoulder blades as she flung her arms around me. She leaned back and looked at me with glee, then, taking hold of my face she planted a kiss squarely on my lips.
“My love,” she wailed dramatically. She stepped back again and squeezed my face pushing my lips into a pucker. I raised an eyebrow at her and her smile spread wide. “Oh, my love, I missed you. I thought I’d never see you again.”
I glanced at Gwyn who looked as surprised as I was and Mair threw her arms around my waist and held on to me tightly.
“Thank you, constable,” she called over my shoulder. “We will see you bright and early tomorrow morning.” Then, linking her arm through mine she dragged me towards the door and into the street.
As soon as the door slammed closed behind us Mair let go of my arm and powered down the steps to the pavement. “You owe me twenty shillings,” she said, pointing a finger at me before she began to walk off down the street.
“What for?” I asked, trying to keep step behind her.
“For posting your bail, Thomas.”
“But how are you out here?” Gwyn asked.
She stopped and turned around pushing the bag she was carrying into her brother's chest. “The man they sent me off with was a fool. He saw me in my fancy dress and wanted to know how a respectable lady such as myself ended up in custody so far away from home, so I told him the truth. Well, some of the truth, anyway. I said I was an innocent lady out fetching my idiot brother and my darling fiancé home from a ‘soirée’ when the police arrived and in all my protestations they’d gotten me confused as a troublemaker and carted me off. I cried a bit, said some things about God and my dead parents and he suddenly became ever so obliging and let me go with a warning not to get mixed up with delinquents.”
“So, they’re letting us go, too?” I asked.
“Not on your life,” she replied. “Over an hour I spent this afternoon trying to convince that man to let you out. Tried all ways to tell him that you were upstanding citizens and that it was all a big misunderstanding, but he would have none of it. When he got sick of my nagging he finally agreed to bail. Your release came at the cost of twenty shillings and I want it back from one of you.”
The smile on Gwyn's face widened as she'd revealed her tale, impressed, though probably unsurprised by her audacity. “So, what now?”
“You’re still in court tomorrow as planned. You're to meet the constable outside at 8’o’clock sharp and if you don’t show up they’ll arrest you as runaways. It’s the best I could do.”
“I could kiss you,” Gwyn said, grabbing his sister and squeezing her.
“Well, I’d rather you didn’t.”
“What’s in the bag?” I asked.
“Your stuff. But I don’t know if all the money is there or if they helped themselves to any. You better hope they didn’t.”
Mair walked on and I took the bag from Gwyn to look inside. The watch was there alongside a handful of coins. There didn’t seem to be anything missing that I could tell. By the time we reached the far side of the promenade, I’d put everything back into my pockets and discarded the scrunched-up bag.
“We’re here,” Mair said, coming to a stop in front of a large building that looked out over the water. The sign outside said ‘The Queens Hotel’ and it was one of the biggest buildings I’d seen in the city, with huge windows overlooking the ocean and a grand entrance leading inside.
“Why are we here?” Gwyn asked, casting me a confused glance.
“I’m not going all the way home and coming back again when we can just stay here for the night,” Mair said. “Gwyn, go in and book us two rooms. Tell them we’re all siblings, here to visit family. Make sure they know I am to have a room of my own. I don’t need them thinking I’m some sort of forward woman.”
With our story set, we climbed the steps and entered the building, all trying hard to look like we belonged. Despite the events of the previous 24 hours, we all still looked fairly respectable in our celebratory finest, and Gwyn didn't seem to be having any trouble making the reservation for us.
“Three bloody pounds” he whispered when he got back from the reception desk.
“Be glad it wasn’t more,” Mair replied. “Now, where are the rooms?”
We followed Gwyn through the lobby of the hotel which was much grander than anywhere I’d visited since arriving in Wales and offered a sense of classic luxury. Plush carpets covered every flood and the walls were adorned with the finest artwork and furnishings. Three pounds seemed like a fair price to pay.
As we descended the stairs Gwyn smiled at me and it occurred to me that we would have a room to ourselves, warm and comfortable, for a whole night. Arthur Morgan may have drained our pockets with his little escapade but I definitely owed him a thank you for creating the perfect getaway for Gwyn and me.
“Mair, you’re along here. 106,” he said, handing her a key and pointing down the hallway off the first staircase. “If you need us, we’re just on the other side of the doors in 112.”
“I won’t need you,” she said with a wide grin. “I won’t be getting out of that bed until morning.” She gave us a wave and disappeared through the double doors to her room, leaving us alone.
“Shall we?” Gwyn asked with a smile, holding open the doors on the opposite side of the landing for me.
When we got inside our room I felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. By modern standards, it was lacking some of the essentials I’d have normally enjoyed, but compared to the barn or Jack’s lumpy bed it was a relative palace.