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Authors: Grace Thompson

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BOOK: Facing the World
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‘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.’

‘Stable riders?’ he asked.

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.’

Time to Move On

The Runaway

© Grace Thompson 2009
First published in Great Britain 2009
This edition 2012

ISBN 978 0 7090 9978 9 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9979 6 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9980 2 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7090 8847 9 (print)

Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT

www.halebooks.com

The right of Grace Thompson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

BOOK: Facing the World
11.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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