WHEN SALLY WOKE after a brief and very disturbed sleep, there were several people waiting to see her. The nurse told her that David was in the waiting room having been there all night, anxiously waiting to be told that she was going to be all right. ‘But first, Miss Travis, the police want to talk to you and then there’s the childcare workers.’
Hardly taking in the nurse’s comments, her first words were to ask about Sadie.
‘Mr and Mrs Martin are looking after her and she’s fine,’ one of the policemen told her. ‘Now if you’re up to answering a few questions, Mrs – Miss Travis?’
‘I want to see Sadie. I need my daughter.’ Her mind was full of confusion. She felt a terrible ache in her arms; they were empty and she had painful need to hold the baby she had lost. She was unable to concentrate on what was being said. All she could think about was the baby, and the urgent need to see Sadie, hold her, make sure she was safe.
‘Miss Travis?’
‘Can’t it wait? I want to know that Sadie is all right. Can’t I see Mrs Martin?’
‘This won’t take a moment and then we can leave you in peace.’
Peace, Sally thought, was a luxury she would never know again. Samuel had died and it was her fault. How could she have been so negligent of him?
One of the nurses brought a cup of tea and sat with her as she became calmer and able to talk. The childcare people asked very few questions. They asked about her situation but seemed more anxious to reassure her that she wasn’t to blame herself.
‘You were perfectly all right when you left to go for the walk?’ one of them asked. ‘No pains?’
‘Only backache but that wasn’t uncommon in the past few weeks.’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘Why did I go out and walk so far? I should have known.’
‘With two months to go you couldn’t have known. None of this is your fault, please believe that.’
The doctor asked about her health during the pregnancy and she mentioned that Samuel hadn’t moved as much as Sadie, but she’d presumed he was a calm, gentle child. Again tears welled up in her eyes. Seeing that she was shivering, trembling with shock and misery, the nurse said, ‘Now get some rest, my dear. You can see Mrs Martin very soon. We’ll come too and look after Sadie while you talk to her.’
Then, after much protest from the nurses, David came in. She was so relieved to see him. After the professional people, he was someone who might understand.
‘Sally, I’m so sorry. You must be devastated. Samuel was so beautiful, wasn’t he?’ He held her trembling shoulders while she cried then said, ‘I’ve never seen a baby so young and his face will stay in my memory for always.’ He didn’t say anything more, just held her, felt her trembling ease and her sobs abate.
‘Not too long, Mr Gorse,’ a nurse called and regretfully, a few minutes later, he left. Sally slept again and when she woke Mrs Martin was sitting beside her bed. After a few comforting words and assuring Sally that Sadie was safe and happy, Valmai said, ‘I’ll never forgive Rhys for this. He should have been with you, looking after you.’
‘I promised to help him through his training and believed he’d come home to us once he had finished the two years and everything would be all right. That thought kept me going through the difficulties, the jibes of the Milly Sewells of this town and being on my own through it all. Now I know he was lying. He let me down.’
‘Come back to us as soon as the doctors are satisfied you’re well enough, dear. I love having you and Sadie living in our house. Every day is brighter with your little girl there.’
Sally shook her head. She didn’t know what she would do after this but going back to Rhys’s parents was not a possibility. Living with them after all that had happened would appear to be condoning what Rhys had done, make her look even more of a foolish victim. She needed to be on her own, cope alone as she always had ever since her parents had died. Trusting Rhys had been a mistake; she had been a romantic idiot. She could trust no one but herself.
‘Time to leave, Mrs Martin. We mustn’t let our patient get overtired, must we?’ the cheerful voice of the nurse called and, after a kiss on Sally’s pale cheek, Valmai left.
Valmai was dreadfully upset and ashamed of her son. ‘How could he have left that poor dear girl to cope alone?’ she asked Netta when she reached home.
They stood near to Gwilym’s workshop and although she tried to avoid actually putting some of the blame on Gwilym, she was angry enough to hope he heard and was ashamed of his weakness. ‘If Gwilym had gone to the phone as soon as Jimmy told him what was happening,’ she said, ‘the outcome might have been different. Minutes later and Sally could have lost her life too. Minutes sooner and poor little Samuel might have been saved.’ In a lower voice she added, ‘Surely in such an emergency Gwilym could have got to the phone and made sure help was on its way. They might not have taken young Jimmy seriously.’
In the workshop, Gwilym listened and felt sick with guilt. When Valmai came in he acted as though he hadn’t heard. Soon. He must do something positive very soon. The thought of Sally being left there with a newly born child was a shadow that would never leave him.
Rick was upset, aware that if he’d been the one Jimmy had met he could have been there when Sally so desperately needed help. He didn’t know how but he was convinced that he would have been able to do more than David and made sure Sally and the baby had been safe.
‘What makes you think you’d have done more than this David Gorse?’ Amy asked. ‘You have no training for anything medical.’
‘I just know that I’d have helped her, acted more quickly. It’s so sad, a little baby carried all those months and born in such circumstances then to die only hours later.’
‘It’s probably for the best,’ she said. ‘She couldn’t have coped.’
‘How can losing a baby be for the best?’ Rick said angrily. ‘She wanted this baby and she’d have done everything necessary to care for him.’
‘The child would probably be taken into care. What life is that?’
‘Of course he wouldn’t! Can’t you feel any sympathy for a mother losing a child? You must be able to imagine how you’d feel if it happened to us.’
‘Oh, it wouldn’t happen to us, darling. I wouldn’t make a mistake like that.’
‘How can you know? Sally would probably have said the same. She wasn’t careless or negligent. Circumstances she could never have foreseen put her in danger. It could have happened to anyone.’
‘Not me, darling. Not to people like us.’
Rick’s distress at the death of the baby increased after Amy’s glib response but he said nothing more. Amy’s life had been safe and secure, her parents hadn’t allowed anything to upset her or cause her a moment’s worry. How could she understand? He addressed a letter to Rhys, writing down everything that had happened, graphically describing the situation in which his son had been born, and drove to Bristol. His anger made him careless and he knew his driving was a danger to himself and others, but he couldn’t calm himself. The man was a fool to neglect Sally the way he had and someone had to tell him so.
He handed the letter to the café owner where the others still awaited Rhys’s collection. ‘No sign of Rhys Martin then?’ he said to the café owner. ‘Will you put this with the others, please?’ The man threw Rick’s letter carelessly on to the cluttered shelf and went back to his customers. Later that evening, when the café closed, he looked at the dates on the earliest envelopes, shrugged and threw the lot in with the rubbish.
Milly Sewell called to see Amy after seeing her in the garden and called across in her rather loud voice.
‘Isn’t it terrible about that woman having a baby out in the fields!’ She walked closer. ‘As if it wasn’t enough to have two children without a husband in sight, she had to give birth to that poor little scrap in a field.’
‘Good morning, Mrs Sewell,’ Amy called, turning away, hoping to discourage her.
Milly hurried towards her. ‘I had to tell Mrs Green about her disgraceful behaviour. Sally used to clean for her but now she knows what kind of person she is, she’ll find someone else. D’you know of someone who’d work for her?’
Amy turned to face her, not liking what she saw. The woman was smiling, eyes glittering, obviously enjoying the story she had to tell. Although Amy was inclined to agree with what the woman was saying, she didn’t like her, so she played devil’s advocate and disagreed.
‘Sally has been very unfortunate, being let down so badly. Can’t blame her for trusting someone who purports to love her, can you?’
‘Which one d’you mean, the father of Sadie or the father of the poor little scrap who died? How many other men has she been with? Terrible way to live, don’t you think?’
Angry now, Amy said, ‘One man. Just one, and he let her down.’
Milly had a good idea of the man in question so she said, ‘Good of Valmai to offer Sally and Sadie a home, isn’t it? Terrible shaming for a mother to have a son like that.’
‘I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure Rhys will be home soon to sort everything out and be a proper father to his little girl.’
Satisfied that her suspicions were confirmed, Milly went on her way. Outside the post office she made a phone call.
David came to the hospital again at visiting time and at once Sally asked for his help.
‘Remember the house that Walter Prosser was going to clean and decorate?’ she asked.
‘The one that he was too idle to attempt? Yes. Greenways in Grove Lane.’
‘Will you ask if the job is still available and whether I can live there while I do the work?’
‘You can’t. You aren’t well enough.’
‘Not this week, but if I can live there, I’ll be able to start fairly soon. Once I’m out of here I need somewhere to live – and something to fill the hours. I can’t stay with the Martins, I just can’t. I want a place of my own. For one thing, I’d be afraid of Rhys coming home and I never want to see him again.’
She didn’t see David’s wide smile. At last, he thought, she was trusting him, being honest about Rhys Martin.
‘I’ll go to see the owner straight after leaving here,’ he promised. ‘But you aren’t to think about working until you’ve recovered.’ He reached over and held her hand. ‘Sally, I’ll help you in any way I can. If I can get the owner to agree, Mam and I will make sure the place is ready for you and Sadie.’
She smiled, the first smile for a long time, grateful for his concern.
A newspaper reporter came to the hospital later that day and the flash of a camera startled her. Other photographs were taken and to her further alarm the reporter had the story about Rhys Martin, the vanishing father. She denied that Rhys was the father of her child but they had talked to Milly Sewell and had all the facts and rumours they needed.
The piece appeared on the front page and included photographs of Rhys and herself. More worrying still, there was a reference to the burglaries that had taken place at the time he had left and again after he had been seen in the area. The wording was carefully chosen but there wasn’t much room for doubt. The implications were clear: Rhys Martin was a suspect in the crimes and had run away, leaving his girlfriend to cope with childbirth alone. Twice.
A week later, when Sally was able to leave hospital, David came with his mother to escort her to her temporary home, Mrs Gorse fussing, making sure Sally knew how pleased she was to be able to help. David had arranged for her to go straight to Greenways, the house in need of decoration, having reached an agreement with the owner Matthew Miller, about her living there rent free and also the promise of a small lump sum when the work was completed.
She was apprehensive about living alone in a large, empty house with the worst of winter ahead of them but she didn’t have much choice. She wondered if she’d be brave enough to use more than one room. Restricting her use to just a kitchen and one room for everything else was sensible, it would be cheaper to heat, and more like a home than rattling around in empty rooms with bare boards and hollow-sounding corridors. One room, she decided. As cosy as I can make it.
David and his mother had taken her possessions to Greenways, and they carried her few belongings from the hospital to where a taxi waited. An empty house was not a pleasant prospect and she was uneasy about it being a suitable home.
Recognizing her concerns, Mrs Gorse said cheerfully. ‘Lovely it’ll be. Plenty of room for Sadie to run about. The kitchen is clean and we’ve put a bed and Sadie’s cot in one of the downstairs rooms.’
‘We’ve put food in the pantry and there’s coal in the bunker,’ David added.
‘Thank you both. I’ll pay what I owe you as soon as I can get to the post office. David, I really don’t know what I’d have done without your help.’
‘You’d have managed,’ David said with a smile. ‘You’re the managing type. Come on, Sadie will be waiting for us. She’s with one of the nurses. She’s quite excited about a ride in a taxi.’
Getting into the taxi, Sally hugged her daughter as though she would never let go.
Jimmy was kicking a ball around outside the house and he waved casually when she called to him, before running off.
‘I must go and thank him as soon as I can get out,’ Sally said. ‘He was the one who ran for help.’
‘And thankfully found me,’ David said as he opened the door. Sadie ran in and Sally followed, giving a gasp of delight. Behind a sturdy fire guard a fire blazed a welcome. On a small table, within the circle of the warm glow, plates and cups and saucers. Mrs Gorse, a plump, smiling lady with a thick halo of hair and cheeks so red – Sally always likened her to a rosy apple – busied herself in the sparse kitchen and returned with a pot of tea and some cakes, assuring Sally that there were plenty more in the kitchen.
‘We brought everything of yours from the Martins’ place as well as some pieces we had spare,’ she explained cheerfully.
‘We aren’t stopping long, just time for you to look around and see if there’s anything we’ve forgotten,’ David said. With an excited Sadie running ahead of them, Sally looked at the large, old, empty rooms sadly in need of decoration. This would keep her busy for quite a while, enough time for her to sort out something permanent. Half an hour later, David and his mother left, and she was in the empty house that was already less daunting because of the welcome they had arranged.
She decided to keep Sadie up until she herself was ready to sleep, which wouldn’t be very long, she thought, stifling a yawn. A knock at the door surprised her.
‘Rick! Come in. How did you know I was here?’ Then she remembered. ‘Jimmy has been watching for me, hasn’t he?’
‘He proudly insists he’s involved, as he was the one who found you and got help. Sally, Amy and I are very sorry about the baby. David said he was beautiful.’
‘His name was Sam,’ she said softly. ‘And yes, he was beautiful.’
‘He always will be, won’t he? Your memory will keep him with you and he’ll always be beautiful.’
Tears pricked her eyes. ‘Thank you for coming.’
‘If there’s anything you need, just ask,’ he said as he turned to leave. ‘Oh, and I brought you these. From Amy and me.’ Reaching outside the door he handed her a large bunch of bright yellow chrysanthemums. ‘To brighten a dark corner,’ he said as he closed the door behind him.
The room chosen by David and his mother to use as a bedroom was smaller than the one in which they had placed the table and chairs, but it too had a fireplace and it was that one Sally decided on for their living-cum-bedroom-cum-everything. It looked out over the front garden which at present was a brown mess of overgrown and rotting grass. She wondered whether she and Sadie would stay there long enough to tame it and thought not. Just as soon as possible she wanted to get far away from this place.
Rhys had been her future but now he was nothing more than a miserable memory of the past, so it was with a shock that she saw him walking up the front path a week later. He was dressed in a duffel coat, the hood drawn around his face, but she knew it was him. To her utter disbelief she saw he was carrying flowers. Did he really think he could calm her pain and disappointment with flowers?
She picked up Sadie and ran up the stairs and watched from the window as he looked up at the house then approached the door. He knocked several times, glancing up in between and then walked around to the back of the house. Thankfully, she remembered the door was locked. She had a brief look at his face and was shocked. He looked ill. Was that the reason he was staying away from her? But no, he’d need her and his parents if that were the reason. It must have been a trick of the light.
He came back and knocked again on the door before pushing something through the letterbox. Then he walked away, stopping to look back several times as though reluctant to accept defeat. She waited a long time before going back down the stairs.
There was a note on the floor and she picked it up and held it between finger and thumb as though it was contaminated. It was brief, just an apology and telling her of his grief at the loss of their son. He promised to explain everything if she could be patient for just a few more months. She was glad there was a fire burning and watched the flames destroy his words with some satisfaction.
Jimmy had ridden around outside the house several times but had cycled away each time she had called to him to come in. He felt a strong embarrassment having seen her about to give birth and later, as she sat against the tree nursing the newly born baby. He hadn’t been back to the mill either, unable to cope with the fear of the place since that day, half believing it was haunted by the baby who had died. He had walked down the path twice but could go no further than halfway. Once during the night, he heard the call of a vixen and convinced himself it was the cries of the dead baby.
Two weeks after Sally had moved into the house, he packed some food while his parents were out and promised himself that this time he would go right to the mill and lay the fear of ghosts for ever. I’m almost eleven years old, he told himself, and I’ve been walking through the wood at night since I was eight.
He dressed, packed his bag with food and his torch and bottle of water, and he stood, with a blanket over his arm, listening impatiently to his parents downstairs, arguing as usual. The television was quiet. Why didn’t they come to bed?
‘Useless you are!’ he heard his father shout. Useless was his favourite word, Jimmy thought with a sigh. ‘You and that son of yours. I can’t believe how useless you are. Why don’t you get a decent dressing gown? Look at you, slovenly old thing, tatty slippers, it’s all you ever wear in the house. Dress up smart for work though.’
‘If you got a job and we didn’t have to depend on my wages you might be justified in complaining!’ his mother retaliated. There was the sound of furniture being dragged and he could picture the scene as though he were there. His father threatening, his mother defiant, although he had never known a blow to be struck.
It was half past eleven before he considered it safe to leave and he hurried from the house on tiptoes, his feet not making a sound. Once out on the road he moved fast, and his determination not to waver remained strong, but as he approached the mill his feet slowed and he began to listen for the sounds of the countryside at night with dread.
As he drew near to the mill he lost his nerve. He was aware of that atavistic fear of attack, that vulnerability, that cold sensation between his shoulder blades. He stood undecided for a moment and then twitched his nostrils. He thought he smelt smoke. Someone was there. Or had been. No one could be sleeping there at this time of year, surely? He stepped closer and as his nerve was about to break he heard someone coughing. Eric!
‘Hi,’ he called casually as he came in sight of a bright fire with Eric shrouded in blankets sitting beside it. ‘I didn’t expect to see anyone here in this weather. November isn’t the time for picnicking, but I’ve brought some food. Supper tastes better out here. Fancy a jam sandwich?’
‘Hello, young Jimmy, why aren’t you in bed?’
‘Couldn’t sleep. I hoped to get a sight of the fox. Seen him, have you?’
As naturally as always, he sat beside Eric and they shared their food. Jimmy was careful not to eat too much, aware that Eric must be broke to have to sleep in the mill in the winter. ‘Got kicked out again, did you?’ he asked, muttering around a rather stale cake.
‘No, this time it was my choice. Not a word, mind, but I wanted to buy a present for Sadie. She had to leave the Martins’ house and I don’t think there’s much comfort in the place they’re living in at present.’
‘A present. That’s nice,’ Jimmy said.
When he walked back home leaving his blanket for Eric to use, the wood seemed as friendly as it had always been. The damp, warm scent of early winter was comforting and familiar, relaxing him. He stopped several times and listened to the quiet rustling as small creatures went about their foraging. An owl flew past and he marvelled at its almost silent flight, trying not to think of the small animals who would provide its supper. Back home he slept soundly, still half dressed, until his mother called him for school. If she wondered why his pyjamas were unused on the chair, she didn’t bother to enquire.
Amy was at the nursery one morning when Sally was waiting to collect Sadie. ‘I hope you are fully recovered, Sally,’ she said. She looked uneasy.
‘I have to be,’ Sally told her. ‘My grieving has to be in private. I had to put on the brave woman act for everyone, including Sadie, and I think it helped in a way. Mourning can go on for ever if you dwell on it and even the kindest people have had enough after a while.’
‘Rick and I were very upset. When that Milly woman came around to tell me of your ordeal, I’m afraid I was angry with her and, well, I presumed she knew, about you and Rhys being – you know – and I said too much. I’m terribly sorry, but I think I was unwittingly responsible for that newspaper article.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s a miracle it hadn’t been guessed before this. It had to come out sometime. At least I had a bit of sympathy. Mrs Green had told me she didn’t want me working for her any more and that was a shock – I depended on her and a couple more to pay for nursery for Sadie. After the article she asked me to go back.’
‘I’m glad it wasn’t all disaster. Look, here she comes!’ She pointed to where Sadie was running to the door, a very messy model made from oddments in her hand.
‘Thank you for being so understanding about my mistake,’ Amy said as Sally hugged her daughter, getting paint over her face in the process. ‘As soon as we’re settled in, I’d love it if you could come and have tea with me one day.’
Sally thanked her and as she walked away she had the happy feeling that Amy might become a friend.
Sally and Sadie had been in the house for two weeks when Eric called. Jimmy was with him. He carried a large parcel which Sadie gleefully unwrapped, tearing at the paper in great excitement. Eric had bought her a very large teddy bear which the little girl at once placed on the floor and cuddled. Neither Eric nor Jimmy explained what he had done to get the money but she guessed he’d have had to give up something. She offered them food and hurriedly provided a steaming bowl of homemade soup followed by pancakes.
Sally certainly wasn’t short of visitors although once her friends realized she was working on her cleaning jobs during the mornings and the decorating most evenings after Sadie was asleep, they timed their visits accordingly and kept them brief. The afternoons were for Sadie and friends.
Rhys called several times and although she knew he had seen her, she still didn’t answer the door. On one occasion she had a good look at him and was further alarmed by the gauntness of his face. He looked so tired and again she wondered if illness had been the reason he had stayed away. TB maybe? Something he might be afraid of passing on to her or Sadie?
Valmai came often but she didn’t ask her about her son. She didn’t want to show any interest in the man who had let her down so badly.
She did ask David if he had heard news of him and he looked at her quizzically. ‘Still care, do you?’
‘I want nothing more to do with him,’ she replied vehemently. ‘But I saw him yesterday when he knocked at the door and I thought he looked ill.’
‘Why don’t you ask Mrs Martin?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to show any interest. She has to accept that one day soon I’ll leave here and she mustn’t be given hope of a happy ending.’
‘Where will you go? Not too far away, Sally. You know I don’t want to lose touch with you and Sadie.’
She smiled. ‘I don’t think there’s anyone who will grieve for very long when I go, not even you, David.’
‘You’re wrong. I don’t want you to go. I’ve always liked you and now, seeing so much of you and Sadie, my feelings are stronger. You must know that.’ He moved closer, his arm reaching for her as though they were about to kiss and she stepped away, not abruptly or very far, just enough to avoid his kiss.
Sally was surprised. Having loved Rhys for so long, it hadn’t occurred to her that David could be anything more than the friend he’d always been. ‘I’ll always value your friendship,’ she said warmly. ‘You and your mother are very good friends and I won’t find it easy to say goodbye to either of you.’
‘I see,’ he replied, sadly. Then after a moment he added, ‘Don’t be too ready to leave people who care about you. Did you know that Eric slept at the old mill for a week so he could buy something for Sadie with his rent money?’
‘Oh, no! What a dear, foolish man. He’s too generous. Don’t you often find that the people with the least give the most? I often take him some food but I’ll do more, without him guessing that I know, of course.’
After David had gone she sat and thought about his words. Despite the unpleasant few who relished the gossip she caused, there were so many people here who had helped her, showed their concern. Even Amy had mellowed and sometimes called for a cup of tea and might soon be called a friend. And Valmai and Gwilym were Sadie’s grandparents. Could she deprive them by taking Sadie away? She’d have to make sure David didn’t get the wrong idea about her feelings for him but he was right, she was better to stay here among friends.
David ran as he left the house, embarrassed. Although Sally had been careful not to exaggerate her unwillingness to make that move into more than friendship, he felt foolish. Then he began to think about his situation. He was a highly skilled carpenter but he was unemployed and there were no prospects of any suitable work in the near future. Of course, that was why she had refused his attempt at showing his feelings. She was a mother and would need security. ‘Fool that I am,’ he muttered as he slowed to a walk. I have to get work, show her I can look after her and Sadie. Then she’ll respond. I know she will. He smiled then as he imagined the look on Rhys’s face when he learned of his daughter being brought up by David Gorse. One day perhaps even having his name.
He called at Greenways a few days later and offered to repair a built-in cupboard in the living room before Sally painted the woodwork. He took a bag of tools and set about the task, talking to Sally casually, determined he would get a job before attempting to show his feeling again. ‘Make haste slowly’, seemed a ridiculous expression but he understood it now. He was pleased with the repair and went to tell Gwilym, and promised to bring Sadie home from her visit to the Martins.
Gwilym was in his shed working on a headboard for a single bed. He had drawn the design of flowers and dragonflies and small fairy-like figures. About a third of it was already carved and it was beautiful.
‘Gwilym, that is wonderful. Who’s the lucky customer?’
‘I’m making it for Sadie. Wherever they live, she’ll need a bed.’
‘You are an artist.’
‘This is the work I love best.’
After admiring Gwilym’s skill, watching the fascinating workmanship for a while, sadly aware he didn’t have the ability to match Gwilym’s steady and sure handling of the tools, David said, ‘I’ve decided to try again to get a job. But I won’t take just anything. I was a supervisor – I just couldn’t go back to using the tools again.’
‘You were quite good at what you did, but more suited to the administration side. Administration is a skill of its own. Forget carpentry, you could work for any business.’
‘Are you saying I wasn’t good enough with the tools? That was why I was promoted to supervisor?’
Gwilym stared at him with a frown. ‘You messed up a few times, didn’t you?’
‘And Rhys? He was good, was he?’
‘Not as good as Eric was in his time. Rhys faced it and decided to teach instead.’ He smiled then. ‘Go down and put the kettle on, will you? I expect Valmai will be back from the park with Sadie soon.’ As usual, Gwilym waited until David wasn’t looking before pushing himself down the path and in through the kitchen door.
David felt humiliated. No one had ever suggested he wasn’t among the best at the factory. Although, thinking back to where he didn’t want to go, he knew the work he had been given hadn’t been projects needing the greatest skill. Old Eric better than me? Anger swelled and confidence returned as his thoughts turned to Sally, who preferred Rhys to himself. Rhys Martin, a cowardly man who had run away from her, leaving her to cope alone! How could she prefer a man like that? Obviously she wasn’t as clever as she believed. But he’d convince her. How could he fail?
It was December and decorating Greenways was beginning to make the place look more homely although the bitterly cold weather was making the work harder. It had the not unpleasant smell of scrubbed wooden floors and new paint. But it was very cold. There were no curtains and no floor covering apart from a rug given to her by Mrs Falconer. A small electric fire burning in a bare, unfurnished room made very little difference to the temperature. The wooden floors, devoid of covering, meant the heat disappeared leaving nothing more than a glow which didn’t make working any easier. The dark evening at least meant a coal fire, which helped keep the one room cosy. It also meant Sadie went to sleep early, allowing Sally to start painting straight after they had eaten.
Once each week, Sadie was met from nursery by Valmai and taken back to spend the afternoon with her and Gwilym. That meant Sally could spend the afternoon on the endless decorating. One day, when the wind howled around the house in a fury so she kept away from the windows and didn’t see him approaching, Rhys came. She heard the knock and got up to answer the door expecting it to be one of her regular visitors. Wearing the hooded duffel coat, his thin face looked like that of a stranger at first. His eyes seemed too large, the nose and chin sharp, his face lacking its former roundness.
‘Go away,’ she said at once and tried to close the door.
He held it and stared at her. ‘Sally, please. Just five minutes. Please, love. I want to explain.’ Afraid then that her fears of an illness were true, she opened the door and walked ahead of him into the one room she and Sadie used.
‘I’ll make some tea,’ she said, needing a moment or two to compose herself. She went into the kitchen, leaving him looking down into Sadie’s empty cot. She couldn’t see his expression and wondered rather cynically whether it would show affection and regret or if he was just imagining a sleeping child who might have belonged to a stranger.
She dawdled over making the tea and putting out some biscuits and when she carried them through he was sprawled in the solitary armchair, fast asleep.
She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t wake him and tell him to go but he couldn’t stay either. There was a knock at the door and she hurried to open it, hoping it was Mrs Martin, who would help persuade him to leave. It was David.
‘Come in,’ she said. ‘You’ll never guess who’s here.’
‘What’s he doing here?’ he demanded, taking hold of Rhys’s arm and shaking it. ‘Wake up, come on, you’re leaving. Haven’t you caused Sally enough trouble without this? More gossip to contend with? How much more will you put her through?’
Sluggishly, Rhys stood and at that moment, with Sally staring at him and David pulling on his arm, Rick walked in, his arms full of firewood. ‘I thought you might be glad of – what’s going on? Sorry, but the door was open, and—’
‘Rhys is just leaving,’ David said and he pushed Rhys from the room. Sally heard the sound of the door slamming with disappointment that was edged with pain. He looked so exhausted. She should have insisted he stayed at least until she had spoken to his mother.
‘I’ll just make sure he’s gone,’ David said and the door closed more softly behind him. Sally sank into the chair and Rick, seeing the tray, poured her some tea. He too left quite soon after, making her promise to lock the door and not open it to anyone.
‘He looks so ill,’ was all she said. Guessing who the stranger was, Rick didn’t comment. Criticism could be misplaced if the expression in Sally’s eyes was a guide and he didn’t want to lose her friendship.
When she took Sadie to nursery the following morning there was talk about two burglaries and this time the police were definitely looking for Rhys Martin.
Sally was interviewed and the police made denial impossible as both David and Rick had seen Rhys in her room. ‘He looked so tired,’ she said. ‘I don’t think he was capable of anything as energetic as breaking into someone’s house.’
‘Burglars work at night. Being tired goes with the job, miss,’ the sergeant replied sarcastically. Constable Harvey put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Sorry I am, you and he being, well, fond of each other, but you have to face facts – whenever there’ve been robberies Rhys has been seen in the area. Between those times he vanishes.’
‘But why would he bring attention to himself if he knows he’s suspected? There are other places where he could break into houses. He isn’t my favourite person any more but he isn’t stupid! Someone could be using his occasional visits to cover their own activities!’
‘We’ve thought of that, miss, but we have to interview him and make sure he isn’t our man. If you see him, will you tell him that?’
‘I won’t be seeing him!’
‘But if you do, you will explain how important it is for us to talk to him?’
Too tired to argue, she nodded wearily.
After the spate of visitors the house seemed larger and emptier than before. The shadows moved unnervingly around the walls and sounds she had previously ignored as the house settled for the night became more insistent. She picked up some of the wood Rick had brought and threw some on the slowly dying fire with a shovelful of small coals. She knew she wouldn’t sleep and the living fire was a companion, of sorts.
At 5 a.m. she woke stiffly, having dozed in the armchair and, taking the electric fire Valmai had given her, went into the kitchen. This was the room she had chosen to be her next project but it was difficult being in use and so filled with clutter and it was only occasionally she managed to make some progress there. But surprisingly it was nearing completion. Dressed in an old dressing gown and furry boots, she began putting the second coat of paint on the walls, listening for a sound to tell her Sadie was waking.
At a quarter to nine she had finished the walls and fed, washed and dressed Sadie. Then she took her to the nursery before making her way to the first of her day’s cleaning jobs. Not much of a life, she murmured as she kissed her daughter goodbye, but it won’t be for long. Soon I’ll work out our future, I’ll find a place where you and I will be happy.
The work on Greenways might stretch to two more months, maybe longer if she could persuade the landlord to include the outside and the garden in the agreement and by then she would surely have come up with a plan.
She finished her cleaning jobs early. One lady was visiting her daughter in London and wouldn’t need her, another only wanted some ironing done. She hurried back to Greenways with a little more than an hour before she needed to meet Sadie. Without waiting for even a cup of tea she carried the stepladder up the stairs and into the smallest bedroom. The ceiling needed at least two coats and if she were quick she might complete the first.
She lit the electric fire to take the chill from the room and put on the dressing gown that she used as an overall. Covering her head with an old scarf, she began. The work went well and she was singing as she brushed rhythmically with the wide brush, then she leaned over to hold the top of the door as she stretched to the final corner. The ladder tilted very slightly and she saw the paint tin begin to slide and reached for it. She wailed as she missed and saw the contents flow down on to the floor. In a panic, anxious to save as much mess as possible, her hand missed the door and she fell.
She was afraid to move for a moment or two, not certain how badly she was hurt. She felt nothing at first but as she began to move the pains began. Her hand was still holding the brush and her wrist hurt. Her shoulders too, and her neck seemed as though it would refuse to straighten. Slowly she stood up and threw the paint-covered dressing gown on to the floor. Thank goodness the tin had been almost empty and the floorboards were protected with several layers of newspapers.
Ignoring the aches that were increasing minute by minute, she scooped up the tin, brush and papers, wrapped them in the dressing gown and carried the lot out into the garden. Then she looked at herself. She was covered in paint. How on earth was she going to get herself cleaned in time to meet Sadie? A glance at the clock told her she had only a few minutes before having to leave.
She put the kettle on to clean herself and the floor of the bedroom, but while she waited for the first kettleful to heat, she agonizingly washed herself with cold. Thank goodness she hadn’t been using gloss paint! She had to make sure the floor didn’t show any sign of the disaster. Shivering uncontrollably, she dressed in as many clothes as she could reasonably wear and stood in hot water and sipped a cup of hot cocoa to warm herself. Then she jumped up and down, swinging her arms for the final few minutes before leaving to meet Sadie. Aware of the picture she’d have made a short time earlier, she began to laugh. At least she’d have a good story to tell Sadie.