After breakfast on Sunday morning, Lottie showed the latest bank statement to Greg and Zena. ‘The amount I owe has gone down remarkably thanks to you, Zena and your help with the business, but there’s still a very long way to go, isn’t there?’ she said with a sigh.
‘It’s always slow at first, but once it starts to come down you’ll feel better about it. Why don’t you take my offer of using my savings?’ Greg asked. ‘I have a useful amount, rent from the cottage which has needed little maintenance since Gran left it to me. With Rose gone, I can’t see me needing it for a long time. Better to use it to get rid of this debt.’
Lottie shook her head. ‘No, dear. This is my problem and you’re helping just by being here and helping with your weekly contribution.’
‘I don’t imagine I’ll be getting married very soon either,’ Zena added. ‘Isn’t it strange how things have all fallen apart? Losing Dad, then Rose leaving Greg, and Jake and I ending something that we both thought would last a lifetime.’
They both pleaded for their mother to accept their help but Lottie refused. She reached for her coat and wellingtons announcing that she needed a walk. Zena and Greg sat for a while discussing the financial situation, puzzling as always about the unexplained loss of the money and the loan on the house. Hesitantly Zena asked Greg if he thought there might have been some serious quarrel between their parents to account for it. ‘The suspicions raised by Aunty Mabs haven’t really gone away,’ she admitted.
‘There has never been a sign of Mam and Dad being less thanhappy. I’m sure we’d have noticed.’ He grinned then. ‘What if it was Dad who was the guilty one? After all, the mystery of the missing money lies with him, not Mam.’
They amused themselves for a few moments, imagining what their father might be guilty of. ‘A master criminal, a thief maybe?
‘Or a blackmailer who became a victim of a blackmailer?’
‘Or the murderer of Mam’s secret lover?’ They were laughing as their ideas became more and more preposterous.
‘The mystery is, even if there is some guilty secret in Mam’s past, or Dad’s, that doesn’t explain what happened to their savings. Where did the money go?’
‘And it wasn’t Dad’s to dispose of, it was their savings. Some came from Gran, and Mam has worked for most of her marriage. It wasn’t solely Dad’s money to part with.’
‘But it’s gone and no one knows where it is. Stashed in a bank vault, or hidden under the floorboards of some mysterious cottage on the wilds of the mountains.’
‘That’s a thought! What an exciting family we have.’
It was an hour when Zena was walking through the wood, gathering branches of the sticky horse chestnut branches to put in water and enjoy seeing the new leaves unfurling, that she stepped out from behind the trees above the Edwards’s farm. Walking towards her she saw her mother arm in arm with Uncle Sam. Something about the way they walked, close and slow, stopping occasionally to talk, made her hesitate to call or wave a greeting. It was as she stopped at the edge of the wood and was about to disappear among the leafless branches that she glanced back and saw them kissing.
She froze with shock and immediately convinced herself that Uncle Sam and her mother were more than the friends they declared themselves to be. It was a subject she had never seriously considered; never seeing her mother in any role other than caring for herself and Greg, providing love and security, making them feel utterly safe throughout their lives. To imagine her mother as a lover was impossible, alien to the picture she held of her. It was very unsettling, unacceptable, frightening; even though she reminded herself that her mother was still a young woman and Sam had been a widower for many years.
Her heart was racing as she hurried back home, dashing straight up to her room and closing the curtains as though blotting out the scene she had witnessed. She lay on the bed and her thoughts became even more shocking as she imagined her mother in the arms of another man. That had to be why her father had treated her so badly, there had been malice in the unexplained disappearance of the money. Her previous joking with Greg had become a cruel truth. How could she face her mother, and smile and pretend everything was all right after this?
She heard her mother come in and waited until she heard her in the bathroom then ran down the stairs and out of the house. She needed to talk to someone, either Greg or Aunty Mabs. It was cold and she needed a thicker coat but grabbed the nearest, a thin waterproof, as she fled. Remembering his shift pattern, she knew Greg wouldn’t be home for hours, so she went to see Aunty Mabs, cycling furiously as though chased by demons. She had to talk to someone or she would burst.
Mabs took a while to open the door and Zena was so distressed she didn’t notice the sleepy look that suggested the knock on the door had awoken her aunt. Tearfully she told Mabs what she had seen, gabbling in her shock and the haste with which she released her dismay. Mabs put the kettle on, wondering as she did so why making tea was always the first reaction to a problem. Something to do with your hands, she decided, as she gave the tearful girl a cup and saucer to hold. When Zena finally calmed down, she said,
‘Your mother and Sam Edwards have been close friends since they were children and I don’t think there’s anything more wonderful than; having a friend who’s lived through your highs and lows without criticism and that’s what Sam is, a good, trusted friend and nothing more.’
‘But they looked so – so – happy,’ Zena finished lamely.
‘And you think that explains why your father, my brother, did something spiteful and uncaring? I don’t believe that and neither should you. Whatever Sam and your mother feel for each other, I can never accept your father’s cruelty. I thought so for just a moment and I’m still ashamed of my reaction. Something happened but it wasn’t spite or revenge. Your father wasn’t like that. One day we might find out what happened, but until we do, we have to trust your mother and believe her when she says she never did anything to hurt your father. Now, my lovely girl, drink your tea and there’re some cakes on the table, ready for the café, I can spare you one.’
‘You didn’t see them, or you’d think the same as me.’
‘I don’t need to see them to know Sam wasn’t the reason your father left his money somewhere other than to his family.’
‘Then did he lose it gambling?’
‘Of course not, Zena, love. Your father wasn’t a gambling man, certainly not with money needed by his family.’
‘Stocks and shares? That’s gambling isn’t it?’
‘Risking everything? Including the house? That’s even more unbelievable than your mother having an affair with Sam Edwards! Come on, love, we’ll find out what happened eventually, and in the meantime, stop tormenting yourself – and me – with nonsense.’
‘When he was dying, Dad mentioned a man’s name several times. Billy Dove. Do you know him?’
‘I’ve never heard of a Billy Dove, and neither has your mother,’ she said pointedly. ‘No romance there either.’
They talked for a while longer but although Zena smiled and told Mabs she was reassured, the memory of the kiss between her mother and the man they had always considered an honorary uncle, remained. How could she face her mother and pretend nothing had happened?
She had planned to go to the shop before lunch to type a few letters she had promised for the morning but decided to go in early the following day instead. Yet, going home wasn’t going to be easy.
When she approached the back door she heard laughter and recognized the voice of Greg’s new friend, Susie, and sighed with relief. Having Susie there would give her time to calm down and accept Mab’s explanation of what she had witnessed.
They were in the kitchen, her mother bending down turning roasting potatoes and Susie sharing tinned fruit and cream between four dishes. ‘Oh, good. I see there’s nothing for me to do,’ she announced, waving at the girl who was licking the serving spoon before dropping it into the washing-up bowl.
‘Sorry, Zena, you and I are down for the washing up. I’ve sort of invited myself for lunch. I hope you don’t mind?’
‘I couldn’t be more pleased,’ Zena replied, truthfully.
Sam called later with eggs and some sprouts and leeks. He smiled at Zena, showing her the contents of the bag. ‘Leeks, your favourite.’
She nodded and looked away.
Sam went to stand behind where her mother was sitting giving the cutlery an extra shine and placed a hand on her shoulder. Lottie’s hand went up to touch his. When several attempts to talk to Zena achieved no response, Sam asked quietly, ‘Is something wrong? Has something happened that’s worrying you?’
‘It’s all right. I can deal with it, Uncle Sam.’
She went up to her room unable to sit watching for more signs of affection. Aunty Mabs was wrong. Her father must have guessed, as she had. Thank goodness Susie was there to ease the painful embarrassment that she felt every time she looked at her mother. She didn’t go back down until she heard him call and the door close as Sam departed.
Soon after lunch was eaten there was the sound of a motor bike approaching and a loud knock on the door announced the arrival of Kevin. ‘Come on, Zena, your carriage awaits! Fancy a trip down Gower? There might even be a café open where we can have tea. Or,’ he went on, not awaiting for her agreement, ‘perhaps you can bring a couple of sandwiches? Hi, Mrs Martin, lovely day for a ride, eh? I’ll bring her back before morning,’ he said, with a wink, ‘maybe.’
Almost bemused by the sudden decision that she hadn’t actually made, she allowed Kevin to fasten her warmest coat around her and add a scarf and a woolly hat, and with hastily packed food tucked into her pockets, they set off with Lottie, Greg and Susie laughing as they waved them off.
Nervous at first, but reassured as Kevin didn’t overdo the speed, they talked over his shoulder as she clung to him and relished the joyful sensation that was almost like flying, safe behind Kevin, warm apart from the icy cold air on her face. They stopped in the shelter of a barn and ate some of the food they had brought then went back home via a different route. She was sorry when they were back at Llyn Hir.
He went in with her, helped her to take off the heavy coat and laughed at the rosy glow of her cheeks, telling her she was beautiful, asking Susie and Lottie to agree, then asked, ‘Where’s the tea pot, then?’
He didn’t stay long, but seemed completely at home, going out to refill the teapot when he wanted a second cup, helping himself to the cakes Lottie had made. He thanked them for their hospitality and promised they’d do it again soon and, as before, they all stood at the door and waved as he left.
‘What is the name of that whirlwind?’ Susie asked as they went back indoors.
‘That was Kevin, he’s a neighbour of Mr Roberts, who he calls Popeye.’
Susie looked at her. ‘Don’t expect him to ask you out.’ When Zena frowned, she added with a laugh, ‘He won’t ask, he’ll just tell you! But he’s seems like a lot of fun.’
‘He’s kind to Roy Roberts, he and his mother help him when he needs it – and is willing to accept it.’
‘I don’t think many want to help him if it’s the Roy Roberts I’m thinking of. He didn’t treat his wife very well and his sons have had no help from him at all – at least, that’s how the story goes, but maybe that’s only the half of it.’
Zena didn’t know enough to comment so she said nothing.
When Rose and Jake arrived at Madeleine’s flat one evening, they were told to close their eyes and wait for permission to open them. Amused, they did as they were told. They opened them slowly to see, proudly installed in a corner of the room, a brand new television. The Radio Times was fluttered in front of them and Madeleine told them they could each choose a programme to watch. In fact they watched everything on offer and the set wasn’t shut down until the programmes ended. They were all laughing with excitement at all they had seen.
They scoured the pages and marked programmes they wanted to see on other evenings and Madeleine laughed away their promises of not becoming a nuisance. ‘You’re my family and I’ll enjoy everything more with you than being on my own,’ she assured them. ‘Now, what shall we watch tomorrow?’
It was after Jake had left that Rose told Madeleine that she too felt part of a family, ‘for the first time in my life,’ she added.
Madeleine coaxed gently and for the first time Rose opened up and told her something about her lonely, sad childhood.
‘Is that why you left Greg? Unwilling to talk to him about your childhood?’
‘He pestered, insisted on knowing all about me and I hated it. I lied about where I lived and he found out. I couldn’t tell him the worst of it. Then something happened; something so terrible I had to get away, right away. So here I am, with you and Jake as wonderful friends and all memories of Greg and his hateful family with secrets far worse than mine, far away and soon to be forgotten.’ She turned away and Madeleine could see a tear drifting down her cheek.
‘Is there anything else you want to talk about? Just between you and me of course.’
‘I went back and broke into the stationers shop run by Zena and her mother Lottie, sometimes called Kay.’ She spat out the last word, hating the sound of it. She heard a sound and looked up and realized that Madeleine was stifling laughter, which burst from her as she leaned over and hugged the unhappy girl. ‘What a surprising girl you are, Rose,’ Madeleine said, helpless with laughter. ‘I didn’t dream you had such behaviour in you. Well done!’
‘Well done? It was a terrible thing to do – wasn’t it?’
‘Not at all. In fact, why don’t we plan something else?’ Madeleine wiped her eyes and slowly calmed her laughing. ‘I don’t know what the Martin family did to deserve your anger, but it’s obvious you need to get revenge, so let’s have a think. Tell me what you did when you went into the shop.’
Guiltily at first but gradually beginning to enjoy the confession, Rose told her about the money she had taken and the mess she had made of the files. ‘I spent the money on the chocolates I bought for you,’ she added, which made Madeleine laugh louder than before.
Although Rose guessed it was only a bit of fun, they discussed finding out all they could so that when an opportunity occurred they could plan something to make Rose feel better about whatever she had suffered at the hands of the Martins. Their ideas went from unkind to absolutely crazy and Rose laughed as she hadn’t laughed for years – if ever.
They brought the conversation around to the Martins whenever Jake was with them and casually found out a lot about the routines of the family including the night café and office supplies and the finances of both. Then Madeleine began to suggest ways of having fun and upsetting the Martins at the same time. She was intensely curious, especially about Lottie sometimes called Kay, who had upset Rose so much. Learning it was Lottie’s nickname only added to the mystery, but knew she had to tread carefully and wait until Rose wanted to divulge more of her story. It was obviously more than an unhappy childhood.
Greg finished his shift at eleven and went straight to the night café. Susie was working days and they had made no arrangement to meet. He’d decided to tell her about his voluntary night work to avoid misunderstandings about his mysterious disappearances. Susie was becoming too special to risk losing because of trying to keep the café a secret. He opened the door and, as usual, the conversations ceased as all heads turned to see who the new arrival would be. He waved a greeting and set to, washing dishes then starting on a fresh batch of sandwiches.
Around 2.30 a.m. the three ex-convicts, Will, Albert and George arrived, pleased to tell them they all had a job. They worked as night cleaners in the kitchen and offices of a factory, working from 10 until 2. They were congratulated and Mabs gave them a cup of tea and a cake on the house, showing Greg crossed fingers that it might continue.
Conversations rose and fell between concentration on the games they played. Greg smiled at Mabs, both happy with the sound of people content with their regular night-time haven, an escape from the loneliness they had once known. Then at five o’clock the door opened and Susie walked in.
‘Any chance of a cup of tea for a lonely girl who got the early bus instead of having a lie-in?’ She winked at Mabs, then smiled at Greg. ‘All right, I know I’ll have to earn it! Where’s the washing up?’ Greg hugged her and Mabs smiled and poured the tea. He was aware of a warmth that spread and imbued his whole body with a sense of wellbeing, which he recognized as happiness.
Susie coming to the café changed things between them. They relaxed, knowing there would be no secrets to jump out and disturb them. He visited her family with the comfortable feeling he was no longer a stranger; and was sure of a welcome. She called without invitation to Llyn Hir and, when she was passing, would pop into Office Supplies for a chat with Lottie or Zena. In a very short time she became a part of the close family involved in the daily arrangements and welcomed by them all. Yet, hidden behind her natural good nature and happy smile a worry lurked, a worry that Greg was still holding a place in his heart for the secretive Rose Conelly. She decided to make a few discreet enquiries.
She helped in the café for a few hours the following night and, when the café closed and Greg was about to give her the usual kiss on the cheek, she turned her head and their lips met. Their arms around each other, they stood for a moment, each wrapped in their own thoughts, wondering where this would take them. Greg thought of Rose and saw the image of her fading, but not vanishing. It hovered in his mind, a faint, mocking image. Susie was also thinking of Rose and wondering how best to persuade Greg to let dreams of her go.
Zena continued to enjoy the two branches of her working days. She helped to clean for Roy Roberts and do some shopping for him. She also made him a cake and occasionally a few savouries. Nelda was more a friend than a client, although she still insisted on paying her for her constant and usually futile attempts to keep her home orderly. They went out once a week when Nelda had a babysitter and Nelda continued to bring the girls to visit Llyn Hir. They were promised walks through the wood when the weather allowed and they drew pictures in their books of what they imagined they would see.
Friends would have described Zena as a happy person. Her life was full, she had friends and work she enjoyed, but now Jake was no longer a part of her life she felt incomplete, as though she were constantly waiting for something. He phoned occasionally and his conversations were full of his job, the places he’d seen and the theatres and films they had attended. It was always they, not I and there was no doubt that all his social activities were with Rose and Madeleine.
In one letter he told her Madeleine had bought a television and described the wonderful programmes they watched. She found it more and more difficult to add her own news. There was less and less to tell him about the town where he had once lived. There didn’t seem to be anything of interest to say about her own life. A walk through the woods with the ground hard and sparkling with frost? Greg and Sam going fishing and catching a few small cod? How dull it sounded compared with his.
In a spirit of defiance she wrote a letter, enthusiastic about the walk in the winter woodland, the squirrel she saw searching for food on a cold but sunny afternoon, the wild ducks that flew over morning and evening. She also told him about the growing friendship between Greg and Susie – for whom she was full of praise.
She sometimes wondered if she should have joined him London, briefly regretting her decision not to, but although life in that fascinating city sounded very exciting, she knew it wouldn’t have been right for her. It was clear that the love she had felt for him had not been honest or strong, it had been habit, and not love at all. Best to let it go.
A reply to her letter came a few days later, just a brief note saying he envied her the walks and the sight of the wild duck, and telling her they were coming for the weekend, staying at the usual lodgings. Rose as well, so perhaps she will talk to Greg this time, he added as a postscript.
Susie started her enquiries about the Conelly family with her own family. She learned from her parents that Rose was fostered, not adopted, and although she used the name of Conelly, on her sixteenth birthday she was told to leave. She was also told that Mr and Mrs Conelly showed no affection for the girl, criticizing her to everyone for her dullness and her stupidity, and remarking constantly how grateful the girl should have been but was not. Susie felt a growing sympathy for Rose and wondered whether her miserable childhood was the reason for her fearing to show affection or accept it. Being constantly rebuffed as a baby and a child must have made it impossible to think of loving and marrying and all the stages of life that were normal.
From what she gathered by feeding the gossip – about which she refused to feel guilty – Rose was never hugged and never included in days out or the holidays that her foster parents regularly enjoyed. She had never been given a birthday party nor allowed to attend parties given by others.
Susie felt great pity for the lonely, emotionally damaged girl, but she couldn’t tell Greg what she had learned. He would accuse her of listening to gossip, which was true, but besides, she couldn’t risk offending him and possibly making him feel again the sympathy for Rose that she herself felt. Such a conversation might drive him to try again to persuade her to open up to him. She went to talk to Mabs.
‘No apology needed for trying to find out why Rose has problems,’ Mabs assured her after listening to what she had learned. ‘She obviously suffered a sad and lonely childhood and her low self-worth is understandable, but isn’t it odd that when love was offered she walked away?’
‘Afraid of another rejection, I suppose.’ Susie looked at Mabs, wondering how she would react as she went on, ‘Should I tell Greg? Help him to understand why Rose walked away from him? Or is it best to let things fade away?’
‘Fond of him, aren’t you.’ Mabs smiled. ‘I for one would be very glad if thoughts of you helped memories of Rose fade away. He would never have been happy with her, we all know that. She carries a sad dark cloud with her, while you, young Susie, are filled with happiness and spread sunshine wherever you go!’
‘He makes me happy.’
‘Tell him if you must, and if it drives him to try to make another attempt to gain her trust, then it’s better you know now.’
On Sunday morning while Zena was preparing a meal for the family and Susie and her parents, there was a knock at the door which was immediately opened. Jake called, ‘Zena, lovely girl, are you there? There’s someone I’d like you to meet.’ He stood at the door with a wriggling, furry brown dog in his arms.
‘Jake, you can’t have a dog. What are you thinking of?’ She reached over and took the fussy bundle in her arms.
‘I saw a van stop in the middle of Swindon. The driver put her out on the pavement and drove away. Poor love, she chased the van for a while then stopped and looked around panting with shock. I opened the car door and lifted her in.’
‘But what will you do with her?’
‘I took her to a vet and she’s soon to have puppies, which is why she was abandoned, I suppose. Poor little thing.’
‘But you can’t keep her.’
‘No, love. I was hoping you and Greg will look after her. She’s called Betty.’ The little dog gave a bark.
‘Betty?’ The dog barked again.
‘How d’you know her name?’
‘Because every time I say it she barks. Don’t you, Betty?’ The dog barked. He smiled at her and Zena looked from him to the dog and began to melt.
Lottie came in with a scuttle of coal, saw the dog and, as Zena had done, took her in her arms. Already smitten by the time Jake had repeated his story, there was no question about Betty being given a home.
Jake stayed for a couple of hours, walking with Zena and Lottie, with Betty trotting contentedly beside them. He asked Zena if she had thought any more about joining him in London, but, making a joke of it, she said, ‘How can I? She wouldn’t like living in the city, would you, Betty?’ Betty barked. ‘That was definitely a no!’
Over the following days, Zena and Greg took the dog for a walk to help her familiarize herself with the neighbourhood. They went down the rocky path to the lake and, to their surprise, young Geraint was there. After playing with the dog and getting them both wet, he asked Greg about the raft, this having been repaired by Sam and Neville and was floating on the calm water firmly held by the arrangement of strong new ropes. They took Geraint for a ride across the lake and back, with the dog barking all the way. Geraint was allowed to pull on the ropes helping Greg to bring it back to where they had begun and was very impressed.
‘You can come whenever one of us is free to go with you, but never on your own,’ Greg warned. ‘If I find out you’ve come on your own you’ll be banned.’
Geraint promised. ‘Thanks, I think it’s wonderful,’ he said, his eyes shining with the sheer pleasure of it all. ‘I won’t tell my friends either,’ he added. ‘Just in case they think they can use it.’
Over the following weeks, Lottie took charge of walking the dog. She left Zena in the shop and took the dog on what she called Betty’s sight-seeing tours. She was taken to the farm and introduced to Digby, Sam’s sheepdog, who became her friend. They visited the vet and were reassured about her condition She was given toys, a bed and a blanket, and preparations were in place for the birth of the three puppies the vet promised.
Winter showed no signs of weakening its grip and Lottie spent less and less time at the shop, using the little dog as an excuse. Zena didn’t mind. She still managed to clean for Roy Roberts, her friend Nelda and was gradually helping Karen to clean rooms in the house that she was still amused to learn was called SunnyBank. ‘What a name for a creepy old, haunted house,’ she laughed, as she told Aunty Mabs.
Chasing out spiders and other interlopers, scrubbing and polishing revealed an attractive house with well-proportioned rooms elegantly carved staircase, ornate ceilings and floors that were in perfect condition once the dirt had been removed. It was hard but satisfying work. She was content.
She was at SunnyBank working through a list of tasks left for her by Karen, who had to see the doctor. The house was filled with that clear silence that makes every sound resonate, emphasizing the hollow emptiness. She dropped a box of cutlery into the sink for cleaning and the sound went on and on, bouncing off walls and she looked around as though afraid of disturbing ghosts. It felt different knowing Karen wasn’t there, even her own footsteps were an intrusion in the quiet, empty rooms and she found herself tiptoeing to and fro.
She started to make herself cup of tea and it was as she turned off the kettle, which had disturbed the silence for a while, that she heard something clatter upstairs. It must have been the wind, knocking something off a window sill. Even on chilly March mornings, Karen liked to open a window for a while. Then she heard the sound of someone muttering and a drawer opening and closing. The voice of the man was raised and she heard angry words as the man searched for something.
Was it a thief? Should she face him? Or run to a telephone box and dial 999? The voice then cried out as though in pain and without thinking she went up the wide staircase and glanced at the locked room. The muttering was coming from there. She crept forward and listened.
‘Is that you, Karen?’ the voice asked. ‘I seem to have cut myself and I can’t find the first aid box.’
‘Hello?’ Zena whispered in her fear. ‘Mrs Rogers isn’t here. Can I help?’
‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Zena, I help Mrs Rogers with the cleaning.’
‘You’d better come in, Zena. Can you fix a bandage, d’you think?’ Before she could answer, the front door opened and Karen called a greeting.
‘I’m up here, Karen. I think the gentleman in this room has hurt himself,’ she said. As Karen ran up the stairs, Zena hurried down and went into the kitchen, where she stood and waited for Karen to come back down. For something to do she prepared a tray with two coffee cups and biscuits, for Karen and the mysterious man upstairs. She heard footsteps coming very slowly down the polished wooden stairs and waited, half expecting to be told to leave, accused of interfering.
‘You’d better make that coffee for three,’ Karen said, as she walked slowly into the room. ‘It’s time for you to meet your employer.’
Zena turned and stared as a large, young well dressed man followed her in. She noticed that Karen was holding the man’s hand leading him. He wore dark glasses and, as Karen guided him to a chair, she realized with great sadness that he was blind. Karen introduced him as ‘Mr James Penberthy.’
Stupidly Zena offered her hand as she said, ‘I’m Zena.’ She stepped closer and found his hand and he gripped hers and shook it firmly. She chatted a little as she made coffee under Karen’s instruction as to strength, then reached for her coat. With a friendly comment about the next of her clients waiting for her she went to the door. Mr Penberthy called her back. ‘What did you say your name was?’
‘Zena, Mr Penberthy,’ she said, hurrying out of the door.
She cycled home, unaware of the icy cold that crept into her clothes and chilled her. She was impatient to tell her mother about the odd occurrence and wondered about the tragedy of the inhabitant of the out-of-bounds room, Mr James Penberthy.
For no particular reason, she wrote to tell Jake about the unexpected encounter. It was so strange, she needed to talk about it and, after discussing it with Lottie, Greg and Susie, none of whom knew anything about James Penberthy and Mabs who could add nothing either, a letter to Jake was a way of sharing the strange encounter. Although the letter was mainly about the house they’d always called the haunted house, she mentioned Susie several times, hoping Rose would stay away knowing that Greg had someone in his life whom they all liked very much.
In London, Madeleine and Rose were waiting for Jake before setting off for Cold Brook Vale and she opened the letter addressed to Jake and read it to Rose, making remarks about Greg’s lack of loyalty, ignoring the fact that it was Rose who had left. While they waited for Jake they discussed in a light-hearted manner some of the ways in which they could punish the Martins, particularly Greg, for his lack of loyalty and other misdemeanours undisclosed. Rose pretended with her; it was such fun but she said nothing of the reason for her sudden hatred of the Martin family.
When they were settled into their rooms in the usual lodgings, Jake went to visit the Martins. He knelt down at once to greet Betty who was larger than he remembered. He asked for a health report and praised them for the excellent care she was receiving. Then he said hello to Zena and the others and she greeted him warmly, sharing the delight of the little dog but with no sensation of excitement. She was relieved to find that the love she had felt for so long had faded leaving behind just familiarity and friendship.
He politely asked Lottie and Zena about the business and they told him all they had achieved and what plans they were making to expand. ‘Although,’ Lottie admitted, ‘I’m leaving more of the running of the business to Zena these days.’ All his questions were polite but on subjects about which he clearly had little interest, questions such as any visitor might ask.
When Zena began to discuss the man who lived at SunnyBank, he was puzzled. He knew nothing about her strange encounter and he hadn’t received any letter. ‘I bet Madeleine has it, she’s forgetful at times. When they come to the office she always takes them back to her flat as she knows we’ll meet up sometime soon.’
They filled him in on the little Zena had learned, but he knew of no one called James Penberthy. ‘Remember how we used to make up stories about the house being haunted?’ he said, looking at Zena and Greg. ‘Dared each other to go inside, we did, and then we’d run away yelling to frighten the ghosts. Good fun. Happy days, eh?’
They reminisced for a while then Jake said, ‘I remember the house was once owned by a man called Dove. Billy Dove I believe. Nickname ‘Birdie’ of course! He moved away a long time ago.’
‘My father mentioned him a few times,’ Zena said, at once interested. ‘Who was he?’
‘I have no idea, he was well out of my league. We all hoped he wouldn’t appear on one of our visits. We were probably more frightened of meeting him than a ghost! We stayed well into the trees when there were lights on in the house.’
Lottie looked hopefully at Greg. ‘We can ask the solicitor to try and find him—’
‘Why d’you want to find a previous tenant?’ Jake asked.
‘Oh, it’s just something the present tenant might want to know.’
Jake didn’t want to stay long, he knew he no longer belonged there, things had changed and now he was just a friend calling on the family, no longer anything more. He knew he was responsible and silently grieved for all he had lost. He asked about Aunty Mabs. ‘I know about the night café. Isn’t that dangerous for her? Leaving there so early in the morning carrying money, when there are so few people about, isn’t she in danger of being robbed and perhaps hurt?’
Greg explained. ‘She hides it in the café each night and I take it to the bank every Friday.’
‘She hides it? Where? The place is used by other people during the day, isn’t it? She seems to be taking risks.’
‘It isn’t anywhere obvious.’ Greg smiled and whispered, ‘She hides it behind a skirting board in the kitchen, would you believe!’
‘And,’ added Lottie, ‘she has a spare key in the disused drain-pipe outside the back door! Crazy I know, but twice she has forgotten her key and had to get a taxi back home to collect it.’
‘I hope you aren’t as casual about Office Supplies. Especially since the break in.’
‘No, we’re very careful about locking the door from the entrance to the flat so no one can get in from the back. It’s all safe now.’
Greg added with a grim smile, ‘Or it will be, once the new door is fixed. The present one could be pushed in by a seven-year-old!’ They all laughed and Jake remarked how simple life was in Cold Brook Vale, compared to his part of London.
When Jake left they went out to see him off and were shocked at the deterioration in the weather. A wind had strengthened and the temperature had dropped. They shivered as they stood in the doorway to wave him off in his smart, noisy little car.
In a touch of melancholy, Zena stood with her arms wrapped around herself shivering in the cold darkness and listening until the sound of the powerful engine faded. She wondered how such certainty, the plans she and Jake had so confidently made, could vanish and leave nothing in their place.
Inside the house they could hear the wind gusting, wailing now and again as it disturbed a loose panel on the corner of the old shed. A few metal objects could be heard rolling around on the yard, the branches of the trees swayed, and creaked as they touched against each other. The radio warned of worsening weather.
The storm increased in fury and Zena found it impossible to sleep. She glanced at the clock then wrapped herself in a dressing gown, threw a blanket over her shoulders and went down. The door was unlocked and she wondered if that meant Greg was on his way to work. Then the door opened bringing a wail of wind and a scattering of debris from the garden. Leaves, small twigs and earth covered the hall floor and he came in. Together they pushed to hold the door in place against a fierce, determined wind and lock it.
‘Where on earth have you been?’ Zena demanded. ‘You must be mad to risk going out in this.’
‘Jake and the others are going back to London tomorrow and I wanted to try one more time to talk to Rose.’
‘Oh, Greg. We all hope you’ll choose Susie.’
‘I have. But in a strange way I still need to know why she suddenly changed from a woman who was considering marrying me to someone I don’t know. Susie is the one to make me happy and even in my most confident moments with Rose I had doubts about her bringing me anything but an insecure feeling of her one day leaving me.’
‘Did you talk to her?’
‘It was crazy to expect to. There were lights on although it was past eleven o’clock, but when I knocked the door, Madeleine answered and said Rose had nothing to say to me. If I manage to see her without that woman who’s appointed herself bodyguard I might get some answers.’
‘Talk to Jake, he might be able to arrange something.’
‘I tried and he promised to try. I might go to London just one more time. Susie’s right, I need to get this half and half involvement with Rose out of my mind.’
‘Will Jake help, d’you think? He and Rose seem in thrall to the wonderful Madeleine!’
Greg shrugged. ‘You’re right. He’s second in command in keeping her away from me.’ He frowned. ‘What could it have been? Everything was looking hopeful then that visit to the hospital and it was all over. We were all there and no one remembers Dad saying anything hurtful.’
‘She’s never said much about her childhood, which I believe was sad and lonely, so it might have been because we were all there, a close family, making her doubt her ability of breaking in to our circle, afraid perhaps of always being a stranger and never really belonging.’
‘What happened to cause her such low esteem? She’s been away from the Conellys for years. She doesn’t have friends, at least she didn’t until Madeleine and Jake.’
‘Roy Roberts knows something of her history, but he won’t tell.’
With the wind still threatening to lift the roof, they sat and drank cocoa and ate toast and listened in wonder at the ferocity of the storm. At two o’clock Zena began to doze and they went up to try once again to sleep.
Back in London, having delayed their return until late in the day, Jake went to Madeleine’s flat and helped the girls unload their luggage, then went home to his dingy room. He was earning enough to move to somewhere more comfortable but was helping by giving a few shillings each week to a woman in the room next to his, who had broken a leg and was unable to get about. He would move as soon as she was well enough to cope without help. He bought and paid for some shopping every week, plus arranging for someone to do her laundry. She promised to repay him as soon as she was well but he smiled and waved away her thanks. To give meant just that: giving meant helping without expecting repayment or reward. Lending, now that was something different.
A few days later, when the three of them were eating a meal in a local café, Jake told them about the precarious way people lived in Cold Brook. ‘It’s a different world,’ he said. ‘Imagine hiding your takings behind the skirting board! And a spare key in a drain pipe! Did you ever hear anything so daft? And Zena and Lottie are even worse. They hide their daily cash in a cocoa tin in a cupboard!’
He talked about the differences in the two places, comparing the freedom of not worrying about thieves in his home town and having to make sure everything is almost bolted to the floor in the part of London where he lived.
‘Will you ever go back?’ Madeleine asked.
‘Leave here? I can’t imagine life without you two to entertain me,’ he replied. Madeleine glanced at him and saw what was a suspiciously sad expression in his blue eyes that belied his brightly spoken words. ‘Things change,’ she said quietly. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’
The little dog presented them with three puppies and they all spent hours watching their progress, proud of the way Betty cared for them. Zena realized that the arrival of Betty had changed their lives but more for her mother than the rest of them. Zena managed the shop apart from the mornings when she did her cleaning as well as dealing with the business side. Lottie just agreed to any suggestions she made on what to order, and prices to charge and gradually, Lottie spent more and more days at home with Betty and the puppies.
The vet advertised the puppies and found homes for them when they were eight weeks old. Lottie and Betty recommenced their daily walks, and visits to Sam and Neville at the farm. She dealt with the running of the house but it was Zena who did the baking every Sunday morning and Greg who dealt with the routine chores. The clearing of the garden after the storms of winter had been neglected and it was Greg and some of his friends who dealt with clearing the debris and lighting a celebratory bonfire as spring began to change the drab browns into fresh vibrant greens.
Lottie talked a lot about the walks and the farm, and Zena and Greg were surprised to learn from Neville that she had been cooking for them for weeks. It was as though she was slowly transferring her loyalty from Llyn Hir to Sam and the farm.
Seeing her mother with her arms around Sam as they walked with the two dogs through the wood one evening gave Zena a sickening jolt of resentment. A mingling of half formed suspicions about the missing money, of disloyalty and perhaps jealousy. Turning away to avoid them she passed the house called SunnyBank and sat on the bank outside the gates until resentment gradually eased and common sense returned.
Her mother was not yet fifty and young enough to enjoy years of happiness. The thought was a revelation to her and she began to think about her mother as a person, a young woman with a future to fill. She thought of the alternative; for her mother to continue looking after them until she and Greg married and left Llyn Hir, and then settle into old age and the end of hope of anything more than a slow decline. She deserved more. ‘She and Dad were happy,’ she said to Greg later. ‘She cared for him and did all she could to make his life a good one. Ours too. But we shouldn’t expect her life to end too because Dad’s did.’
They talked about it for a long time, trying to decide on the best approach then told her where their thoughts had led them. Lottie listened anxiously, a frown creasing her brow, then she smiled as they ended their rather confused comments with, ‘If you and Sam are more than friends, we’re completely happy about it and wish you years of happiness.’ Sam came that evening and he shook their hands as though he were a stranger newly introduced. They talked as easily as they had always done and Zena knew that nothing much had changed.
‘I’ll run the business and gradually pay off the debts we raised to buy it and after that, there should be a reasonable income for us.’
‘If only the loss of your father’s money could be explained, then life would be just about perfect,’ Lottie said.
‘It all sounds good enough for me,’ Greg said. ‘Don’t you think so, Betty?’ The dog barked a reply.
‘That definitely means “Yes”!’ Sam said.