JIMMY BECAME HYSTERICAL when Eric tried to carry him back into his own house and pleaded to go to Valmai and Gwilym. It was there that they waited for the doctor, while someone went to find Netta, who was preparing a meal for him and filling hot water bottles to put in his bed.
There was no apparent injury except some grazing on his arm and the danger was mostly from the chill of lying half in half out of the icy-cold stream. Valmai made him comfortable on the couch beside a roaring fire, surrounded by cushions and covered in blankets. Netta sat beside him and a distressed Walter hovered around outside.
Two days later they were confident of his recovery and Netta went to the post office where, during the summer, the rooms above the shop were rented to visitors. It was agreed that she and Jimmy could stay there. She went back to Valmai and told Jimmy he needn’t go back to the house.
Making sure Walter wasn’t there, Netta went with Valmai to gather all she would need and during her search she found the rent book. She looked at it and gasped.
‘Look at this! Walter hasn’t been paying the rent! I’ve left the money out every week and he hasn’t been paying it. We’re in serious arrears, Valmai, and unless I can find the money we’ll lose the house.’ As she had been at work all day, she had been leaving the money in the book for Walter to give to the collector. Whatever he’d been doing with the weekly amount, it hadn’t paid their rent. ‘I can’t pay this off and rent the room for Jimmy and me. Oh, Valmai, what shall we do? I can’t go back to how it was. Jimmy wouldn’t cope and he doesn’t deserve it.’
‘Lock the doors so Walter can’t go back in, and stay with us until everything is sorted. It’ll be a squash but Jimmy won’t mind that and Rhys has gone back to Bristol.’
‘What about Gwilym?’
‘As long as he has privacy when he needs it he’ll be happy to have you and Jimmy staying with us.’
Walter had stayed with friends, Roy and Mildred, for two nights but knew he had to go back to the house. He had a little money, enough to get some food, and there was fuel for the fire. He’d be all right until Netta relented and came home.
It was a shock to find it locked. The back door for which he had a key had been bolted inside. He couldn’t get in and at once he became angry. Locked out of his own home? How dare she?
He went back to the friends where he had stayed, expecting sympathy and perhaps help breaking into his house but instead Roy and his wife both shook their heads.
‘Sorry, Walter, but we are on Netta’s side in this. You’ve treated her and Jimmy disgracefully. We feel sorry for Netta, supporting you in idleness and putting up with your treatment of her and your son. Sort yourself out, man. We can’t help you.’
Walter walked away, his shoulders drooped in embarrassment. They were only saying what he knew was true. Every time he thought of Jimmy he felt a swell of shame. He’d been selfish and ill-tempered and he cringed as he thought of all the months he had sat there allowing Netta to earn the money, some of which he had wasted on eating in cafés, drinking at the pub, even treating strangers, just for company with people who, for the price of a pint, would offer false sympathy and assure him he was justified in not accepting a job he didn’t want. Netta paid for everything. He had money in his pockets, more than he’d needed, so why work? But he had to do something. He couldn’t cope without Netta and Jimmy.
His immediate problem was where he could live until he had sorted his life out. He went to the boarding house and the first person he saw was Eric. ‘This is your fault,’ he shouted. ‘Stealing my son’s affections and who knows what besides. I ought to have the police on you.’
The landlady came out and ushered him away. ‘Sorry I am, but Christmas or not there’s no room here for the likes of you, Walter Prosser.’
Walter walked away, still shouting at Eric even after the landlady closed the door.
‘I’ll find somewhere better than that place. I don’t want to share a roof with you, Eric Thomas.’
But where? He wasn’t going to sleep at the mill like Eric had done on occasions. He wasn’t a useless layabout who was content to live like a tramp! ‘Useless layabout’ were the words that he repeated in his mind and as he walked the street the rhythm matched his stride. That’s what I am, he admitted bitterly. I got away with it for too long. How can I start again? And where can I stay tonight?
Feeling sorry for himself, he turned without thinking along the path leading to the mill. When he realized where he was going he turned and almost ran back to the street. Not that! Never would he sink that low. He went back to the road and looked at shop windows where advertisements were placed.
He found a small house advertising bed and breakfast and although they weren’t happy to have a visitor staying over the Christmas period, he took out some money and they grudgingly agreed to rent him a room only. No food. He went to the shops and, spending as little as possible, bought what he thought he would need for the few days he intended staying there.
He took out his wallet and counted the notes. If he put what he had left into the rent book it might just be enough to avoid serious trouble. Paying for the room hadn’t left much in his pocket though.
He’d been stupid, keeping back the rent just to show off to his friends, bringing out notes and joking about how well he managed without working, with a wife to look after him. Telling them they were fools. They had laughed, thought him an amusing fellow, but they were at home with their families now, whereas he had been left with nothing and when he’d complained, there had been no sympathy for him, only derisive comments. After Christmas, he’d persuade Netta to let him go home. What he had to do was get work and pay the rest of the debt as fast as he could.
Guilt was still balanced against resentment and self-pity. He patted the wallet in his pocket. He’d need to spend a little more. After all, he had to eat. And he wanted a drink and the company that went with it. That wasn’t unreasonable. Netta couldn’t expect him to stay in that room and not see another soul all over Christmas. Convincing himself he was justified, he took two pounds more from the wallet.
Christmas came and went but it lacked the usual joyful feeling: Walter alone in his room, listening to the sounds of laughter and the tempting smell of food, thinking of Netta sharing the days with Valmai and Gwilym. He walked past the house several times and saw Jimmy with Sally and Sadie, who called laden with gifts and good wishes. To his annoyance, Eric stayed on Christmas Day and again on Boxing day. Several friends called to wish them well and Netta and Jimmy paid visits to others.
All the time Netta was trying to decide what to do. She needed to provide a home, a proper home, for herself and Jimmy. But how, if they lost the house?
For Sally Christmas was happier than she’d hoped. Visiting Valmai and sharing part of the day with Netta and Jimmy and Eric made it a party, much enjoyed by Sadie, although as Sally was aware of underlying tension, guessing the reason, she didn’t stay as long as planned. She had been constantly watching the door, afraid of Walter appearing and causing trouble, or Rhys coming back and having to stay with him for a while for Sadie’s sake. But there was no sign of either. She almost ran in relief as she finally left the house.
Rhys should at least have been honest enough to tell her the truth, not leave her hanging on hoping for some miraculous return to how they had been. Even little Samuel, born in such tragic circumstances, had been unwanted by him. He must have been horrified, wondering how to tell his new love how Samuel had been conceived. No wonder he’d muttered anxiously about the possibility of an abortion. Now, it was all heartbreakingly obvious.
She wondered if he would ever return to Tre Melin or would just visit his parents briefly, after dark, afraid she’d demand repayment of the money she had given him over all these months.
David’s mother had welcomed her to tea on Christmas Eve and there were gifts under the tree for herself and Sadie. Mrs Gorse had gone to a lot of trouble to make them feel at home, cooking and setting the table with as much decoration and sparkle as it would hold and still leave room for them to eat. David went with her to Amy and Rick’s on Boxing Day and they went for a walk several times during the holiday weekend. Every time she returned home though, there was a fear that Rhys would be waiting for her. What would she say? Would he tell her the truth at last? Or would her instinct to cut him out of her life make her close the door against him again?
A note pushed through Valmai’s door a few days after Christmas was addressed to Netta. While Jimmy was with Gwilym and Eric in the workshop, she showed Valmai.
‘Walter’s gone,’ she said, her voice emotional as she handed Valmai the note. ‘He doesn’t say where, just that a part of the arrears has been paid and he’ll send the rest as soon as he finds a job. He hopes Jimmy and I will go back home.’
‘I’m pleased, Netta. You need to go back. It’s your home and all your things are there and for Jimmy’s sake I hope you can stay.’
‘But where’s Walter? What’ll happen to him? I know he was making us unhappy but I feel like I’ve abandoned him.’
‘I’ll ask around. He won’t have gone far,’ Valmai promised. ‘Now, what about us going in and lighting the fire and making sure the place is cosy again.’
‘And tidy! That would be a change.’
Together they cleaned the neglected house and lit the fire and soon the place looked like it always had, until Walter had lost his job and willingly given up hope of another.
‘That factory closing, that’s what changed him,’ Valmai said. ‘It changed the lives of everyone who worked there.’
‘It wasn’t only the closing of the factory that changed him,’ Netta said. ‘He used that for an excuse to settle into a life of idleness, with failure an excuse for bad temper and irritability. It’s every man’s dream, not having to work.’
‘Not every man. Most of the men found other work and were thankful to start earning again.’
‘Him and that David Gorse, they’ve been happy to waste their days.’
‘I can’t argue with that. I blame David’s mother, mind. Keeping a man who’s twenty-four, it’s a disgrace. I don’t know what he lives on. She’s a pensioner after all.’
‘David was always a bit light-fingered as a boy. Perhaps he’s still the same?’
Netta and Jimmy were walking along Mill Street when they saw Walter approaching. At once Jimmy ran off and he disappeared into the boarding house where Eric lived.
Walter started to run towards her, waving his arms. Netta stood her ground.
‘Get the boy out of there – that man is up to no good with him.’
‘Go away. Jimmy’s my responsibility.’
‘But it’s Eric who’s upsetting him. He drove his wife and daughter away, remember.’
‘Wrong. It’s you that causes him to keep running away, not Eric. He’s a kind man and worth a dozen of you.’
‘I don’t like the man.’
‘Still looking for someone to blame?’
‘Keep him away from my boy!’
Ignoring him. Netta walked on.
David was happy. Sally and Sadie had spent a lot of the Christmas holiday with him and his mother. Affection was strong and growing. He liked her company and he felt proud walking with her holding his arm, but the greatest joy was knowing he had beaten Rhys Martin and stolen his girl. And his daughter too! What more could he ask of life?
He knew Rhys wasn’t staying with his mother, which was worrying, and perhaps winning Sally would be only a brief moment of satisfaction. Rhys staying away at Christmas suggested he’d found someone else and again he thought with distaste of Sally being Rhys Martin’s cast off. People thinking he was second choice? Second best? That wasn’t what he wanted, not at all. He’d miss her, but he’d drop her at once if this were the case. No one was going to feel sorry for David Gorse. He’d still enjoy seeing him arrested though. He went up into the loft to reassure himself that the hidden evidence was still there.
Mrs Gorse had been puzzled when she wasn’t given the bowl and the painting for her Christmas present. Could he have forgotten? It had been there for quite a long time. The scarf he had given her was very pretty but she waited in vain for her real gift, the beautiful bowl and the charming picture. When she saw him coming out of the loft she asked, ‘Any secrets up there, David?’
He stared for a moment then shook his head. ‘No secrets, Mam, just a lot of rubbish which I’ll clear out one day.’
It was her birthday in January – that must be it; he was keeping the special surprises for her fiftieth birthday. Smiling, she gave him a hug then toddled off to start preparing supper. A nice piece of steak for him, that was his favourite. Expensive but he deserved the best.
As soon as the offices opened, Walter went to look for a job. Any job, he told himself. He wouldn’t be proud. Whatever was offered he would accept. Then Netta would take him back. To his shame he was half hoping they had nothing to offer him, but after a brief interview he was given a job in the packing department of a factory just a few miles away. He was smiling as he went back to Tre Melin. It wasn’t very well paid but wasn’t arduous either; he could manage to do that for a few weeks, until something better turned up. If he really disliked it, it would be easy to get himself sacked.
David was also looking for work, something better paid and more impressive than a repair man for a few properties. If he and Sally were to make a life together, he needed to impress her with his endeavours. He put on his smartest suit, a white shirt and a silk tie. He swaggered in and explained that he was looking for something in middle management. He wasn’t sure what that meant but it sounded better than ‘I’m an unemployed factory worker.’
He was given the address of a small factory where an office clerk was needed and an appointment was made. Seriously unimpressed, David went, told them he was looking for something with better prospects and walked away. This wasn’t going to be easy.
Then his luck changed and he was interviewed for the position of carpenter with a small building firm. He demonstrated his knowledge and mentioned his intention of marrying. That was an incentive for a young man to find regular work and implied he would be a reliable employee. Although he hadn’t been in employment for two and a half years, his reference from his previous job supported that, and he was given a month’s trial.
Tonight he would tell Sally and ask her to marry him. They could live with Mam for a while, or perhaps they’d live in the house she rented in School Lane. He daydreamed happily all the way home. Then he saw Rhys.
Rhys had walked into his father’s workshop unannounced. Gwilym’s reaction was shock, not at seeing his son but at how thin and ill he looked. But he showed no pleasure at his appearance; he just stared at him as though at a stranger.
‘Hello, Dad. Sorry I didn’t stay for Christmas. There were things I had to finish. Now they’re done and I can come home, once I’ve been to the police and sorted out any accusations they have. I didn’t do the—’
‘Don’t tell me, son,’ Gwilym interrupted angrily. ‘It’s Sally who should hear what you have to say. Then your mother and I will listen. Sally first. Right?’
‘Of course. I was only going to tell you I didn’t burgle any houses. I’ve never stolen anything in my life.’
Gwilym stared at him, his eyes cold. ‘Haven’t you? That’s something you’ll need to talk to Sally about, too! There are many ways of stealing.’
‘But I’ll—’
Again Gwilym interrupted him. ‘Talk to Sally. Not me or your mother. It’s Sally who needs to understand why you took money – not stole it, took it. If there’s a difference I don’t know it.’
‘I’ll go to the house and wait for her.’
‘Best you do. Don’t come here until you’ve spoken to her, right?’
Rhys nodded and went out. Gwilym put down the plane he was holding and sat, head bowed, wondering what possible explanation Rhys could find for the disgraceful way he had behaved towards Sally and their daughter, Sadie. Whatever had been happening, Rhys was so thin and gaunt, it can’t have been pleasant. Perhaps he’d been too hasty? But no. Sally was entitled to hear what he had to say before the rest of them. He doubted if it would be convincing.
David had followed Rhys from a distance and saw that he hadn’t stayed long with Gwilym. He’d be going to wait for Sally. She was meeting Sadie herself today, so he’d go to the nursery and walk back with her. Better if he were there when they met.
He watched from the shadows as Sadie came out with Sally. They were holding hands and Sadie was chattering, presumably about her day, and Sally was bending over slightly to listen above all the noise created by the other children. He stepped forward and asked. ‘Did you have a good day, Sadie?’
Sally looked up and smiled. ‘This is a nice surprise, David.’
‘I’ve come to tell you I have a job.’
‘Marvellous! I’m so pleased. I know you weren’t happy doing unsatisfactory repairs for a boss who didn’t want to pay for a decent job.’
‘You understand me so well.’ He leaned over and kissed her cheek, then bent to kiss the top of Sadie’s head.
‘What is the new job?’ she asked. He explained about the work on building sites and made it sound as though his carving skills would be valued, rather than fixing ready-made roofing timbers with several other men.
‘Rhys is back,’ he told her as they drew near to School Lane. She stopped and stared at him. ‘Sally, don’t let him wriggle out of what he’s done. He’ll have prepared some story hoping you’re willing to believe it. Nothing can excuse what he did to you and Sadie, and,’ he whispered softly, ‘to dear little Samuel.’
‘I don’t want to see him.’
‘Then don’t, love. Come back with me. Mam’ll give Sadie something nice to eat and we can stay until we think Rhys has given up hope.’
They went to see a delighted Mrs Gorse who opened biscuits and tinned ham and raided the fridge and in a short time the table was filled with salads, meats, cheeses and a huge plateful of bread and butter. Sadie chattered away and they enjoyed a pleasant hour.
When they walked back to the house, there was no sign of Rhys, and David stood outside for a while, after listening to keys turn and bolts thrust home. Before walking away he went around the house to check the back in case Rhys was waiting for him to leave. There was no sign of him, but he almost tripped over a man’s glove. It might be Rhys’s and that might be handy. He picked it up, using a handkerchief to grasp it.
He smiled into the darkness. Satisfied, he went off, not back home, but into the fields. Time for another burglary perhaps? Although the coincidence might be too much for the police to accept, it would be too obvious. Instead, he’d just break into a house and drop it. Disturb the larder, as though Rhys had stayed there. He didn’t seem to have anywhere else to go.
Walter watched from the darkness of the fir trees on the drive as the man passed him. There was a flicker of a torch and he saw the man’s face. David Gorse! He watched as the window was opened and he saw David look around before getting in. So that’s the game, is it? Everyone suspecting Rhys Martin and David showing how easy it was. He slipped back into the fir trees edging the drive of the house. He wanted to make sure. Carefully he placed a branch on the dark drive and waited, hoping David, if it was he, would trip.
He held his breath as he heard the sound of the window sliding back down, then David walked calmly back towards the gate. He stifled laughter as he saw him trip and issue a couple of loud expletives. No doubt at all. That was David Gorse.
He’d say nothing until tomorrow, when news of the robbery came out, then he’d tell the police what he had seen. Honest, upright citizen that he was. That would be a start towards getting the Martins on his side, a first step towards Netta letting him come back home.
David went home, and although it was very late, in her bedroom, unable to sleep after the excitement of Sally and Sadie’s visit, Mrs Gorse glanced at the clock. She rose and went down. ‘I couldn’t sleep, David, shall I make us a cup of cocoa? That might settle me and you look frozen and in need of something warm.’
When his mother finally slept, David went up into the loft to check once more on his evidence. He eased the wrapping paper away and almost shouted in dismay. The silver bowl shone and the picture too was as clean as any seen in a gallery. They had been cleaned. His stupid mother had found them and polished them, removing any evidence of Rhys’s fingerprints.
He eventually calmed down. Rhys wouldn’t know and the threat would be enough to keep him away from Sally. The police would still be interested and he could leave them somewhere to implicate Rhys.
To Walter’s surprise nothing was said about a break-in the following day and he went back to the house. No lights. The tenants were still not home. Well, he’d noted the time and the details; he could wait.
Stories about the break-in spread two days later. ‘Not exactly a burglary. Apparently someone had broken in and had taken only food,’ Valmai was told.
‘Some poor homeless wanderer,’ Netta said, when Valmai shared the news and the two women stared at each other.
‘Could it have been your Rhys?’
Valmai shook her head. ‘Eric told me he was staying at a small hotel on Cardiff Road. I doubt if he’s so hard up that he’d steal food. He’d come to us before he did something as stupid as that.’
Gwilym was listening and he nodded agreement. He didn’t feel that he knew his son any more, but he was convinced that he wouldn’t have broken into a house.
‘Whatever’s wrong, Rhys wouldn’t steal anything,’ he said to Valmai, later. He’d said nothing to her about Rhys’s brief visit, waiting anxiously to learn that his son had offered explanations to Sally. He was curious about the delay. Had Sally refused to listen to him? Or simply not believed him? Who could blame her, he thought sadly.
When the police came and asked where they could find him, he told them where his son could be found. There was nothing to hide and pretending he didn’t know would have been a foolish move. When they heard that Rhys was at the police station, rumours abounded and soon everyone was convinced that he was under arrest. Gwilym knew then that he had to do something, and fast.
Contingency plans had been made and the information he needed gathered. He was anxious about what he had to do but determined that this time he would do something to help. That night, when Valmai was asleep, Gwilym struggled to get out of the house using the wheelchair, his crutches across his knees.
He found the journey very tiring; the exercises he’d been doing hadn’t really prepared him for the effort needed. Cutting across the fields, via the regularly used paths and on past the old mill, he reached School Lane and went into the house where Freddie Carter lived. He knew the man was away from home and also knew that Freddie rarely locked the door, even when he was staying with his daughter in Bath.
He opened the door, planning to pick up one or two things then leave them in the garden as though the thief had been interrupted. With his crutches, he moved into the living room and there, snoring, sprawled across the couch, was Freddie. Tucking a couple of silver ornaments in his pocket, taking a silver framed photograph in another pocket, he backed quietly out and, leaving the door open, he struggled back to the mill. He left all he had taken, then slowly, painfully, made his way back home. His leg was aching after the short walk using crutches and his arms were trembling with fatigue. He wondered if he’d be able to get up the path and back into the house before dawn broke.
As far as he could tell no one had seen him. With Rhys in custody, the robbery would make it plain to the police that someone else was responsible.
He got out of the chair and was about to collapse on to the day bed when he saw to his consternation that someone was in the room. ‘Valmai?’
‘Can you tell me how you can move about so well while all this time you’ve insisted that you can’t go further than the shed? You’ve been out for hours, Gwilym. Where have you been?’
Valmai was sitting in the armchair, barely visible in the dark room. ‘This is what you’ve been planning, is it? Robbery? So you go to prison instead of Rhys?’
He flopped into the bed and wondered if the pain would ever go away. ‘No,’ he said, trying not to show his discomfort. ‘Not that. I thought that if there was a burglary Rhys couldn’t have done, the police might start looking for someone else. I thought of this a long time ago, and I’ve been waiting for an opportunity. With Rhys held by the police he has a perfect alibi.’
‘But he hasn’t, they released him hours ago. He’s back in the hotel long since.’
Recriminations followed as Valmai made Gwilym promise to go back to the hospital and get help to become mobile once again. It was Valmai who ran back to Freddie’s house and replaced all the items Gwilym had taken. Freddie snored happily on.
The following day the police came again. Freddie had insisted that, although nothing had been stolen, someone had been in his house. Things had been moved and the door had been left wide open. PC Harvey warned him about locking doors and left, convinced the man had been mistaken. Still, it might be worth having a chat to Rhys Martin again.
‘Where are you staying now?’ he asked when he saw Rhys later that day. ‘Back with your parents?’
‘No, I have a room in a hotel.’
He gave the name and the constable asked, ‘Out late last night, weren’t you? Someone said you were down by the old mill. Funny how that place attracts people. You were there last night, weren’t you?’
‘Not me. I like the comfort of a warm bed. It’s David Gorse who likes wandering at night.’
Walter also alerted the police to David Gorse’s night-time wanderings. They were aware of the many times he had been seen crossing the fields during the hours of darkness. He’d been stopped on several occasions and had even shared his flask of coffee with a policeman once or twice. He had explained that he watched wildlife, particularly badgers. ‘And as dawn breaks all goes still and utterly quiet, then the stillness is broken by birdsong as one by one they wake,’ he said. ‘The morning chorus in the spring is magical; well worth getting up early for, you ought to try it,’ he had enthused.
Harvey laughed. ‘As a constable used to working every shift man can devise, the nights hold no secrets from me.’
Although they doubted the man was responsible for the burglaries, a woman police constable was sent to talk to David’s mother.
‘Come in, dear,’ Mrs Gorse said, opening the door wide in welcome. ‘Sit down in that chair near the fire and I’ll make us a nice cup of tea.’ She was always pleased to greet visitors and opened tins to offer cakes and biscuit, chatting all the time.
‘Your son spends a lot of time out in the fields, doesn’t he? Keen on wildlife, I believe.’
‘Yes, but it’s not the real reason he walks around at night. He can’t sleep, see. He can’t get work. He comes in very quiet, like, tries not to disturb me. I did hear him come in the other night and I got up and made us a nice cup of cocoa.’ She sighed. ‘He’s never slept properly since the factory closed and he lost his job. Loved that job he did.’
‘Such a shame about the factory closing, wasn’t it? Men lost more than their jobs when the place closed down. More than two years some have been out of work. Your David working now, is he?’
‘Yes, got a job on the buildings. Not a proper use of his talents, mind, but he’s very friendly with Sally Travis and needs more money than I can spare him.’ She leaned closer and said confidentially, ‘I’m hoping he’ll settle down and marry.’
‘You’ll miss him. I expect he spoils you.’
‘Yes he does.’ She placed the tray on a small table and again the confidential whisper. ‘I’ll be fifty in a couple of weeks and I think I’ve found the present he bought for me. It’s a beautiful silver bowl. He loves nice things and never buys anything new. Prefers the old quality stuff.’
‘How exciting. Can I see it, d’you think?’
Mrs Gorse looked doubtful for a moment, then said, ‘It’s up in the loft, mind, but we can easily get the ladder in. David gets cross but I’ve done it once or twice, searching for the Christmas trimmings, that’s how I know it’s there.’
The ladder was put in place and they went up and into the loft, a powerful torch helping them to find the bowl and the painting. When they took them down, the policewoman went out to make a call. ‘I have to report every couple of hours,’ she said in explanation. ‘Leave them there while I make my call and I’ll come back and we can have a good look. You are lucky to have such a generous son. What about another cup of tea?’
They were sitting drinking their second cup of tea when there was a knock at the door. ‘It’s one of my colleagues. I’ll answer it.’
The two officers asked permission to search the loft, which she willingly gave, unaware of the implications. Then a van arrived and the stolen items plus other pieces they had confiscated were put in and the men left a now tearful Mrs Gorse, cursing her own stupidity, waiting with the WPC for news of David’s arrest.
Rhys had returned to Bristol once more, and it was at the end of January when he came home again. This time Valmai encouraged Sally to listen to his explanation.
‘You have to hear what he has to say, love, then decide whether or not you believe him. Either way you can then rebuild your life and forget you ever loved him. But you have to listen.’
Valmai stayed with Sadie and he took her to a small public house where they sat near a roaring fire with the low murmur of conversations, the clink of glasses and the clack-clack of dominoes around them. The peaceful sounds were enough to offer privacy and Rhys took a deep breath and began.
‘I borrowed a car and a friend was teaching me to drive. I was involved in an accident that was entirely my fault. My lack of experience meant I had reacted more slowly than an experienced driver might. The person I hit was Eric’s daughter, Julia and her little girl.
‘Julia suffered nothing more than bruising, but the child had serious injuries to her legs. It was thought at first that she might not walk again. Knowing how the loss of a limb had affected Dad, I had to help.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘If you’d refused – and you’d have been entitled to do so – I couldn’t have helped. My going to prison wouldn’t have done anything to help little Erica to walk again. Money could. My error, your money which you were trusting me with. I’d never have earned enough to pay for the treatment she needed. There were specialists who could help her more than what was already being done but the money was needed quickly if she stood a chance and the treatment was beyond Julia’s ability to pay, so I offered to cover all the expenses myself.’
He reached into his pocket and took out an envelope. ‘At first I thought I could earn enough by my own efforts, but although I’ve been doing two jobs for most of the time, I couldn’t. I left college and did more unpleasant but better paid jobs – three for a long time. And—’ He offered her the envelope ‘—these extra months were to pay back what I owe you. It isn’t all there but I intend to pay you back the remainder in two months’ time.’
Sally was speechless. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ was all she could say.
Later, when most of the details had been discussed, they walked home and told it all again, to Valmai and Gwilym.
‘Does Eric know where his daughter lives?’ Valmai asked once she understood most of what had happened. ‘He deserves to know that she’s all right, he deserves at least that.’
‘Julia’s mother filled her head with terrible stories about Eric. She believes he was a cruel, uncaring husband who wasn’t interested in his daughter.’
‘She wasn’t told about the debts her mother left him with, I suppose? How he sold everything he possessed, including his house, to pay them off? Or how he finally paid them just a few weeks before the factory closed?’ She stared at her son. ‘1 hope you told her.’
‘Or how he slept at the mill for a week so he could buy a teddy for Sadie?’ Sally added. ‘I hope you told her all this.’
‘I’ve told her everything I know about Eric and I’ve persuaded her to come here next week and meet him.’
‘Not at that awful boarding house!’ Valmai said at once. ‘Eric will come to us and they’ll meet here.’
Eric was nervous as he sat in Valmai and Gwilym’s living room waiting for his daughter to arrive. After twenty years how could he not be anxious? She had been brought up on her mother’s version of what happened, making him the villain. Whatever Rhys had since told her might have made her curious but it wouldn’t guarantee her believing that he was the innocent party in her mother’s lies. Her story, perfected over the years, would be too embedded to be changed by anything he could say, he thought, as the clock ticked and they waited for the snick of the gate.
To his surprise she didn’t look that much different. Older, of course, but as he stared at her the face became as familiar as the photograph he still looked at almost daily. And beside her, holding her hand and looking around at the row of strange faces was his granddaughter. He opened his arms and the little girl went to him and still looking up at his smiling face, asked, ‘Why are you crying?’
‘What’s your name?’ Eric asked and was shaken when she said, ‘I’m Erica, are you my granddad?’
‘Granddad Eric,’ he replied, smiling at them all. He looked at the stranger who was his daughter and asked, ‘Why did you call her Erica?’
‘I always wondered what you were like. I even went to find you once at the only address I had, but the people there didn’t know where you were.’
Rhys and his parents went out, Gwilym determinedly using his wheelchair to leave the house and garden for only the second time since his accident, Rhys pushing occasionally, Eric and his family following. They went to the pub, where others were planning to join them. The news had spread and curiosity brought everyone who knew Eric there to hear the exciting story of the reunion.
Amy and Rick, with her disapproving mother, were there. Netta and an embarrassed Walter were there and conversations filled the place with noise and laughter but for most of the time Eric and Julia and a chattering Erica were oblivious to the rest. They talked and laughed as they learned of each other’s lives in the years they had been apart.
Mrs Seaton-Jones was sitting with Amy and Rick and she shocked them by announcing that she believed they should move. She had been looking around her at the people in groups and clearly disapproved of them all.
‘This isn’t the place for you. It’s full of thieves and delinquents. Even that nice David Gorse has turned to crime. This place hasn’t the right ambience for families like ours, Amy. Where’s that tramp living now? And the boy you tried to befriend? The one who was always missing from school.’
‘Eric Thomas and Jimmy are both fine, Mummy.’
Rick pointed to where Eric and Julia sat. ‘In fact, Mother–in-law, we’ll be joining Eric and his daughter later, when we’ve given them a chance to talk. Rhys found Eric’s daughter and they’ve met for the first time for twenty years. Quite an event.’
‘Yes, I heard! Rhys found her when he was in Bristol where he’s been spending money he was stealing from Sally.’
Rick made an excuse and went to talk to Gwilym and Amy followed. Mrs Seaton-Jones leaned towards Netta. ‘I hear that you and your husband are separating. Such a pity. Families are so important,’ she announced. ‘I stay with my daughter and her husband every weekend. They’re my family and we should be together. Don’t you agree?’
Netta shook her head. ‘No, Dorothy, a young couple need time together to get to know each other and make plans.’
‘But I’m family and their plans include me. That’s the kind of family we are, d’you see.’
‘I wonder if they see it like that? I had my mother-in-law living with us for eight long years and because of it, Walter expected me to be not a wife but an extra mother. Spoilt he was and so was our marriage. What I didn’t do, she did. He didn’t lift a finger. Me trying to outdo his mother in the way I cared for him. Her determined to show she knew best.’
‘It isn’t like that with us,’ Dorothy defended, but she sounded less sure. ‘Come on, Amy dear, it’s time we went home.’ She reached out an arm and Rick came across to help her out of her seat.
On the way home Amy and Rick allowed Mrs Seaton-Jones to march ahead. Once there, she turned and asked, ‘Am I a nuisance, coming every weekend?’
‘Of course you aren’t a nuisance, Mummy. We look forward to seeing you, don’t we, darling?’
‘That common Netta woman, she has no idea how a decent family lives.’
Rick didn’t go in immediately, but held Amy’s arm and leaned on their gate.
‘Darling, what can we do?’ he wailed. ‘I think we missed our chance there. Imagine having her here every weekend for ever!’
‘There’s only one alternative that I can see.’
‘Tell me. Please, whatever it is, tell me.’
‘We can convince her that cousin Godfrey needs her more than we do.’
‘All right. We’ll try writing to him, then we’ll tell her he needs company.’
They stopped and kissed until Mrs Seaton-Jones turned and called, ‘Not in public, Amy! What are you thinking of? It’s so—’ Her final words were lost in their laughter. Later that evening, to their surprise, she broached the subject herself.
‘I’ve been neglecting cousin Godfrey,’ she said. She looked at them with her shrewd eyes. ‘And I’ve been spending too much time with you.’ She raised hands to ward off disagreement. ‘Much as you need my support.’
‘Whatever you think is best, Mummy,’ Amy said, avoiding looking at Rick.
‘Perhaps if you have more time to yourselves there’ll be less of this embarrassing kissing in public!’
After a long discussion, which included Jimmy on many occasions, Walter went home. He wasn’t allowed in the bedroom, but made to sleep on the couch in which he had idled away so many days. ‘You have to earn your place,’ Netta insisted firmly. ‘Keep your job and help make the house a home, then one day maybe we’ll be a family again.’
Rhys came back from Bristol in February and repaid the last of the money he owed to Sally. He was still thin and pale, but the weariness had left his eyes. He came to see Sally and Sadie, who was proud of her tiny two-wheeled bicycle with stabilizers, which she called stable riders, at the back.
‘Everyone seems to have settled down,’ he said one day as they sat and picnicked at the mill. ‘Amy and Rick have persuaded her mother that they’d be better on their own, Walter is trying so hard to be good to persuade Netta he’s a changed man that it’s comical to see him. And Eric. He’s so happy he wants nothing more of life. Julia and Erica visit every week, staying with Mam and Dad, while I sleep on the couch. A full house suits Mam, she loves looking after people. Dad is meeting with consultants preparing for proper treatment and an artificial leg.’ He looked at her fondly. ‘There’s only you and me to get ourselves sorted.’
‘I love you, Rhys, I always have, but I’m still a bit raw. Mistrustful. It will take time to forget how dishonest you were. You should have trusted me.’
‘I know, but it seemed such a risk. Julia’s a widow, her husband died of influenza just months after Erica was born. There was no one else to help her. Erica wouldn’t be the lively active little girl she is now if you’d refused. I took a chance, hoping that when you knew the story you’d forgive me.’
‘One day, when I learn to cope with the fact you didn’t trust me.’ She smiled at him.
‘Soon,’ he pleaded. ‘I want to be a part of Sadie’s life, so she’ll forget the years I wasn’t here.’
‘Come on, Daddy,’ Sadie called. ‘Come and see my bike again. It’s got stable riders an’ everything.’
She watched as Rhys pushed his daughter over the steep parts of the path and listened as their voices and the laughter echoed back. ‘Soon,’ she said aloud. ‘Very soon.’