Chapter 42: Linda Booth & Mary Schormann

Llamroth: Sunday, September 28th

‘It’s so lovely to see you again, Linda.’ Mary hugged her niece as she stepped from the train. ‘Richard, sweetheart.’ She faced him, touching his cheek. ‘You all right?’

‘Long day. The train went all over Wales to get here,’ he said.

‘We’re lucky this station stayed open,’ Mary said. ‘A lot didn’t.’

‘I know,’ Richard said. ‘You might have had to come to Cardiff to get us, isn’t it. Anyway, more important, how’s Dad?’

‘It was just a minor scare in the end. He’s friendly with the heart specialist at Pont-y-Haven and he pulled some strings. They let him home, providing he rests.’ Mary gave a short wry laugh. ‘But he’s a fidgety patient, to say the least; I’ve nearly had to tie him down. Anyway, he’s much better.’

‘Used to being on the other side of the desk,’ Richard said.

‘You’re right. But seeing you two will be the best tonic for him.’ She included each of them in a smile but her voice faltered. ‘If only your sister would let us know where she is.’

‘So no news?’

‘No.’ Mary’s eyes filled; she brushed the tears away. ‘Nothing. We can’t think where else to look, who else to ask.’

Linda fiddled with the strap on her suitcase, an unwilling onlooker to her aunt’s distress. If Vicky was standing in front of her right now she’d give her a good shake. Her cousin’s selfishness made what she had to tell Auntie Mary more difficult.

‘She’ll be fine; you do know that, don’t you?’ Richard said. ‘She’s perfectly capable of looking after herself.’

‘I hope you’re right.’

‘I am.’ Richard hoisted his rucksack onto his shoulder.

Mary touched it. ‘That new?’

‘Yeah. I’ll tell you about it sometime.’

The porter slammed shut the last of the doors and blew on his whistle. With a squeal of wheels the train stuttered away from the platform and out of the station.

‘You must both be worn out after that journey.’ Mary linked arms with both of them.

‘Exhausted.’ Linda picked up her suitcase with her free hand. ‘Thought we’d never arrive.’

‘Let’s get you home, then. I parked the car on the road outside the station.’

Twenty minutes later they were at the cottage.

‘It’s great to be here. Just look at that sunset.’ Linda watched the colours flickering through the trees on the opposite side of the road as the sun dropped below the horizon in a blaze of fiery orange and scarlet, lighting the sea into a ruby redness. High above, creamy yellows and pinks rippled through the layers of clouds. ‘Beautiful,’ she breathed, ‘just beautiful.’

They stood for a moment by the gate, savouring the peace. Then: ‘Come on; let’s get your bags out of the car and into the house.’ Mary shooed Linda in front of her. ‘Your Uncle Peter’s in the back garden. At least, he was when I left to pick you up. He’ll want to hear all about how you got on in Manchester, Richard.’

‘I’ll park the Hillman round the side of the house and then I’ll bring everything in,’ Richard said. ‘You two go on.’

‘Thanks, love. Be careful with it, you know it’s your dad’s pride and joy.’ Mary waited until the dark green Hillman Minx was safely driven off the road before she led the way around the back of the house. She laughed. ‘Your Uncle Peter would never forgive me if I got so much as a scratch on that car,’ she said. ‘Now, young lady, you can have a good rest while you’re here.’ She’d been shocked by the pallid thinness of her niece. ‘We’ll have a nice cup of tea and you can fill me in with all your news.’ She’d already had a phone-call from Ellen demanding she find out from Linda what was wrong between her and her boyfriend, but she wasn’t going to pry. If Linda wanted to tell her anything at all, it was up to her.

‘Peter,’ she called, ‘look who’s here.’

‘I think we should go in.’ Mary swatted at the midges that hovered around their heads as she and Linda sat on the low wall in the back garden. ‘I can’t stand these things. And it’s dark, anyway.’

Linda stood up. ‘The house seems so big since you extended it, since you made the two cottages into one.’ She gazed along the length of it. ‘I keep looking to where Gwyneth’s back door used to be.’ She glanced at Mary. ‘Must seem strange to you too, Auntie Mary.’

‘Hmm? Yes.’ A sadness shadowed Mary’s eyes. ‘I really miss her. If it wasn’t for her … and her son … we wouldn’t be here. It was a refuge for Tom and me for a long time. And your grandmother. She had a hard life before she came here. She loved Wales.’ She smiled, a wistfulness hovering around her mouth. ‘You won’t remember her, but I think you’d have liked her.’

‘Yes, I think I probably would. And, from what I remember, Uncle Tom.’

Mary nodded. ‘He and Iori should have had more time together. But…’ She folded her arms and held them tightly to her. ‘It wasn’t to be.’ She flapped her hands again at the insects. ‘Horrid things. Come on, let’s get inside.’

In the kitchen Mary took out two mugs from the cupboard. ‘I’m glad your Uncle Peter had an early night, he was tired out. Coffee?’

‘Please. Yes, he did look absolutely shattered.’

‘Like I said, he’s a fidgety patient. Very fidgety.’

Linda peered around the door. Into the living room. It was empty. ‘Where’s Richard?’

‘On the telephone in the hall. He’s been on there for ages talking to the girl he met when he was up with you.’ Mary opened another cupboard and brought out a tin of Nescafé.

She spooned the coffee into the mugs. ‘I spoke to your mother earlier.’ She tried to speak casually. ‘She sounded a bit … agitated. Is she—?’

‘Drinking again? Yes, she is.’ Linda’s mouth twisted. ‘I don’t know what would stop her falling into a bottle whenever anything goes wrong.’

‘What is it this time?’ Mary held up the spoon. ‘CoffeeMate okay? I forgot to re-order the milk.’

‘It’s fine.’ Linda smiled and then pulled her face. ‘And I don’t know what’s up with Mum.’ This wasn’t the right time to talk to Mary about Karen. ‘She gets in a flap about anything.’

Mary stirred the coffee and then spooned in the milk substitute, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Linda realised she hadn’t fooled her aunt; she’d always been able to tell when she was holding something back, just like Nelly could. They were so much alike, Auntie Mary and Gran. No wonder they were such good friends. And she knew she couldn’t avoid the subject of George Shuttleworth much longer.