Facing the World (12 page)

‘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. 

ON THE MORNING
following the accident, Sally woke and was
immediately
aware of pain and discomfort. She had cut her face and had landed with her head against the skirting board and had obviously wrenched her neck. Beside that, her hand was bruised and her shoulder was also stiff and painful. Getting Sadie up, dressed and ready for nursery took longer than usual and she was reminded of what an amiable child she was, and tried to imagine how she would have coped with all that had happened, including the fall, if Sadie had been fractious or demanding. She hugged her and held her for longer than usual, telling the little girl how much she was loved. Reaction to the accident was mixed, most people laughing as Sally told the story to the mothers at nursery with that intention but when the news reached her, Valmai was concerned and went to Greenways at once.

‘You must see a doctor,’ she said. ‘I’ll come with you now, shall I? I can look after Sadie while you see him.’

‘But I’m bruised, that’s all,’ Sally protested, trying to hide her painful hand, now a startlingly dark blue. ‘Besides, I haven’t cleaned all the paint off myself yet. I keep finding smears on my arms and in my hair. I can’t be seen looking like this.’

‘Tomorrow,’ Valmai insisted. ‘I’ll meet you after you’ve taken Sadie to nursery. Right?’

‘I can’t tomorrow, I have work to do.’

‘So have I, but this is important. Besides, you can’t work. Just look at that hand. Nine o’clock, right? And look, I’ve brought some soup for your supper, save you bothering and I’ve sliced some bread.’

She knew Valmai was right; she did need to see a doctor to make sure the damage was nothing more than bruising. Whatever he
advised she would have to carry on as usual. A few weeks of being unable to work and she would lose all her clients. So it was pointless really. She went to the surgery as soon as Sadie had been handed over to the assistant at the nursery. Valmai was waiting.

The hand and other injuries were examined and then the shoulder and arm were strapped and she was told she must rest. She thanked the doctor and the nurse who had applied the dressings to the cuts but as soon as she was outside, she shook her head. ‘Rest? That’s a joke. I have to keep my cleaning jobs, and if I don’t continue with the decorating, Sadie and I will have to move out of Greenways.’

‘You know there’s a home with Gwilym and me for as long as you need one,’ Valmai said, adding quickly, ‘Don’t worry, I know you and Rhys won’t get back together and I don’t blame you for that, I really don’t. But we still want to help. Fond of you, we are, and full of
admiration
for the way you’ve conducted yourself through all this.’

‘Thank you.’ Sally hesitated then said, ‘There is something you can help with, if you’re sure you don’t mind.’

‘Anything.’

‘I’ve been asked to do a full house-cleaning for Mrs Glover ready for when her visitors come next week but it will take a day at least and I can’t really expect her to look after Sadie for the whole
afternoon
, much as she loves to see her. Would you meet Sadie from nursery and look after her until I’ve finished? There’ll be two of us, and Mrs Glover also does what she can, so I hope to finish after one whole day and the following morning.’

‘Glad to. I’ll take her to the park – she loves that, even though it’s so cold – and Gwilym will be pleased to spend some time with her. Just let me have some spare clothes in case she gets dirty and we’ll have a lovely day.’

News of the accident and Sally’s injuries spread and when David’s mother told him, he was concerned and went to Greenways at once.

‘You must do as the doctor said and rest,’ he said.

‘But I’m just a bit bruised, that’s all,’ Sally insisted, trying to hide her painful hand.

‘At least let me help. I can light the fire for a start.’ He moved the electric fire to one side and, ignoring her protests, he set about cleaning out the grate and getting the fire to blaze. 

Rather unkindly, Sally wondered why he didn’t show the same enthusiasm when looking for work. For more than two years he’d been unemployed. She couldn’t imagine Rhys doing nothing for all that time. Then that train of thought stopped abruptly. As far as she knew that’s exactly what Rhys had been doing. Nothing! No college, and certainly no job or he wouldn’t have been using the money she had been sending regularly. What had he been doing? He must be in serious trouble but why couldn’t he talk about it?

‘I’ll just go and fill the coal scuttle. I’ll come tomorrow and do the same, shall I?’ David’s comment startled her out of her puzzled musings.

‘Thank you, David, it does cheer the room, doesn’t it?’

‘And tomorrow, before you get home with Sadie?’

She searched her mind for an excuse then remembered she had a genuine one. ‘Not tomorrow. Sadie is going to stay with Mr and Mrs Martin. I’ll be out all day helping Mrs Glover. It’s sooner than I expected but she’s expecting visitors next week and wants it done straight away. Pity really. I’d hoped to get the front bedroom walls papered this week. I set everything out ready to start, but now it will have to wait.’

‘Forget it for a while. I don’t think you should be climbing
stepladders
until you’ve lost the bruises from the last time,’ he said jokingly. ‘The work will get done. Just be a bit patient.’

She was apprehensive when the day of the landlord’s inspection came and spent as much time as she could spare making sure the place looked clean and tidy. Mr Davies was a man in his fifties formally dressed in a dark suit and a smart overcoat. His shoes shone with much polishing and he wore gloves. He said very little at first but seemed satisfied with what he saw.

‘I’ve bought it for my parents,’ he explained. ‘My father is retiring in April and they’ll move here.’

‘I’ll be finished and gone long before then,’ she said.

‘Fine, but if you still need a place, you can stay after the work is done. We can arrange for a small rent to help cover the expenses.’ He glanced at the accounts and told her not to spend any of her own money when he noticed there were a few items not listed. ‘I’ve opened an account at the local paint shop. Just get what you need and I’ll deal with it.’

‘Is there anything else you’d like me to do?’

‘You’ve hurt your hand. Don’t try to do anything until it’s better. There’s plenty of time.’ He looked around the room where she spent most of her time and asked, ‘What about Christmas? You don’t seem to have made any preparations. No trimmings?’

She couldn’t tell him that she hadn’t given the festival a moment’s thought. ‘I don’t want to risk marking the newly painted walls,’ she told him.

‘I’ll come next week to put up the curtain rails. I’ll bring a tree.’

‘Thanks,’ she murmured, wondering what she would use to
decorate
it.

Mrs Glover was one of Sally’s favourite clients. She helped her with the work, making her feel more of a friend than a person employed to clean. Sally knew some of the work would be difficult with a bruised hand and shoulder but was determined to do the best she could to please the lady.

It was a tiring day, washing curtains and ironing them. Brushing walls and lifting carpets. Cleaning windows and the inside of cupboards and wardrobes. Washing light fittings and occasionally used china and glasses. Mattresses were moved and the
old-fashioned
springs dusted. Sally and the young woman hired for the day to help didn’t stop, even drinking tea and eating sandwiches as they worked.

When Sally went to collect Sadie from the Martins at six o’clock she wondered how she’d continue to place one foot in front of the other. To her relief, Valmai had the table set for four and a casserole, sending out tempting smells, was ready to serve.

They stayed until eight o’clock then Valmai walked them home. She took her bicycle and gave Sadie a ride, so she’d be able to ride back. Sally wished it was she sitting on the bike and being pushed.

She got Sadie ready for bed and the little girl was almost asleep before she had kissed her goodnight, then she undressed and after the briefest of washes, fell into her own bed completely exhausted.

The plan was to finish the last of Mrs Glover’s tasks the following morning and despite her aching body and throbbing hand and shoulder, she rose early. After the usual chores and before Sadie awoke, she went upstairs to look at the room she was due to
wallpaper, to plan in her mind the best place to begin and check the length of the pattern on the paper and consider the waste a large pattern would mean. She wondered whether she’d ordered enough paper. When she opened the door she shouted in dismay. Someone had started the job. Two walls were papered but the sheets weren’t straight. Staring in disbelief she could see that whoever had done it had used the door jamb as a guide instead of checking it was upright. So the paper had been hung at an angle. Very slight, but enough for her to know it wouldn’t do. It would all have to come off and more paper bought. Who could have been so stupid? She used anger to avoid precipitate tears. Not Valmai, but who else had a key?

‘Sally?’ a voice called and at once she knew. David!

‘I’m up here. I hope you didn’t do this,’ she said, fury making her voice tight in her throat. ‘Someone has interfered and ruined this job and now I’ll have to take it all down and start again. And buy more wallpaper – which I’ll have to pay for.’

‘What’s wrong with it?’ David ran up the stairs and looked at the walls. ‘I matched the pattern as best I could. I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘Mummy?’ Sadie called and, pushing past him, Sally ran down the stairs and began talking to her daughter, ignoring David’s comments, knowing that if she looked at him she’d scream in frustration. Why did nothing go right for her she wondered?

Valmai was waiting at the nursery to see if she was all right and her anger and despair burst from her and she told her what had happened. ‘Please, don’t offer to help,’ Sally said as they parted. ‘I can’t stand the thought of someone else doing a poor job. I want the landlord to be pleased with everything I do and he’ll be around again next week to check on my progress.’

‘What was David thinking of? I’ll help you to take the wallpaper off and then I think you should go away for a couple of days. You’re worn out and you can’t hide the fact that you’re finding it painful to use that hand. You aren’t in the right frame of mind to do anything at present. I’ve got a friend in Saundersfoot. Pretty little place. She’ll have you there and won’t charge much, it being out of season. Go, love, and relax for a couple of days. You’d benefit from a break. Just you and Sadie.’

Sally was about to argue. There wasn’t time. She had to finish the
room. She had to conserve her savings. There were a dozen reasons why she should refuse, but then, as she stared into Valmai’s kindly face, she suddenly felt more calm and in control. In that moment she changed her mind about two things. One, she would go away for the weekend and two, she would never move far from Valmai and deprive her of her granddaughter. Whatever happened between herself and Rhys, Valmai didn’t deserve such treatment.

‘Thank you. You’re right and I’ll do that. Just me and Sadie,
somewhere
near the sea.’

She went on the train and found the cottage advertising bed and breakfast and Mrs Daniels offered to provide an evening meal. ‘I don’t usually, mind, but as I’m not busy and you’re only staying for the weekend I’ll let you come in for a bit of lunch too if you find the weather too much for little Sadie.’

With Sadie in her pushchair and wrapped cosily with fluffy
blankets
, Sally explored the small town. Many places were closed for the winter but the beach sheltered from the wind during those few days was a fascination for Sadie. They even managed to survive the cold weather long enough to build a sandcastle and gather some shells and pretty pebbles.

The contrast between beach and town was marked: the cold, empty sand and rocky coast and the bright, overheated, glittery shops in their brightest displays. Carols were sung by small groups of people collecting for charities and from out of some of the shops other seasonal music emerged and distorted their efforts. Yet still the approach of Christmas hadn’t penetrated Sally’s thoughts. Probably because she had never had a home where her parents had indulged themselves in all the excitement and gaiety of the celebration.

Her parents had died when she was young and her memories of the years before were vague. They hadn’t been there to set traditions: large amounts of luxurious food, the stocking filling, the secrets, the mysterious and colourful parcels under the Christmas tree. Those things had always happened to other people and without a home of her own, no one with which to share the joy if it all, she didn’t know how to begin.

She tried not to think of the empty house she presently called home and the mess of the wallpapering that would be waiting when she got back and the tension eased from her. She felt anger every time
she thought of David and his stupid attempt at helping but pushed it away more and more easily as the hours passed. She felt calm,
philosophical
about the disasters that had befallen her and better able to cope. There was nothing that she couldn’t deal with. Once her hand and shoulder were strong again, she would look for work, build a new career. She wasn’t a failure, she had just trusted the wrong person, that’s all. A human mistake, not a criminal or negligent act.

The good feeling lasted until she reached the railway station to begin the journey home. A young man she had noticed once or twice on the beach stood near the entrance and she smiled politely and he spoke to her, as a stranger might.

‘Have you and your little girl enjoyed your break?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘Mrs Daniels is my aunt and she told me you were here to rest after an accident.’

‘Hardly an accident,’ she said with a smile. ‘I slipped when I was painting a wall. Just bruises, nothing dramatic. Getting covered in paint was the worst thing.’