Facing the World (6 page)

Rick walked to where Eric was sitting. ‘Hello, again,’ he said. ‘Do you live near here?’

Eric pointed along the road, ‘I have a room in a small boarding house. I’ve lived there since I lost my job at the furniture factory,’ he explained. ‘The rent is cheap and she gives me a good breakfast.’

‘But you have to stay out during the day?’

‘Mostly. Except Thursdays when she visits her daughter in Cardiff.’ Eric stared at Rick, his blue eyes shrewd and his lips
beginning
to smile. ‘Wants me to clear off, does she? Your wife?’

‘Well, she’s a bit stressed at present. The house and the wedding plans, you know how it is.’

Eric nodded. ‘I’m off to see young Jimmy Prosser. Know him, do you? He’s a hit of a wanderer too.’

‘That’s the young boy about eight or nine who lives next to Valmai and Gwilym?’

‘Ten he is. He’s a good lad. He helped me when I lost my rent and had to sleep in – somewhere else,’ he amended. ‘Well, I’d better go.’ He smiled. ‘You can tell your wife I’ve been told off good and proper!’

Rick saw Jimmy later that day and went out to talk to him. ‘Hello, where are you off to, young Jimmy?’

‘Who wants to know?’

‘Only me.’ Rick smiled. ‘I’m not MI5! I was talking to Eric and he told me your name.’ He began to walk alongside Jimmy and asked a few questions. ‘Nice place to live, is it? I mean, we’re moving in in a few months and we don’t know anyone.’

‘It’s all right, I suppose. I like it round here. Everything except the school. It’s years yet before I can leave. Daft if you ask me.’

‘Mmm. I’ve noticed you wandering around during school hours,’
Rick said. ‘Look, I’m not encouraging you to mitch, but if you want something to do at the weekends, come and see Amy and me. Any time, just give a knock and if we’re there you’ll be welcome.’

Jimmy didn’t feel too sure about his wife, but he nodded. ‘If I’m not too busy,’ he replied.

The following weekend Jimmy visited twice. The first time he helped in the garden, for which Amy rewarded him with a bar of chocolate, and the second time Rick introduced him to some of his favourite books. He soon realized the boy was not a very good reader so he read to him, then listened patiently as Jimmy read. As soon as Jimmy was bored with struggling to read, Rick took over again for a while and Jimmy began to enjoy the stories about the countryside written by T.G. Evens, a man who called himself Romany and who lived in a caravan with his dog and his young friends Muriel and Doris. He could relate to the stories as the descriptions of the wild animals and birds referred to were known to him.

Amy was surprisingly pleased at Jimmy’s progress, stating that Rick’s interest in children was one of the reasons she loved him. He seemed able to become friends with anyone of any age and from any background. She had taught for a while but meeting Rick and making plans to marry had persuaded her to give up her career, not without some relief. She knew she wasn’t a natural teacher, not like Rick would have been. She was too impatient and, she admitted to herself, too critical. ‘I can’t help the way I am,’ she often told Rick proudly, expecting praise. ‘I strive for perfection and expect others to do the same.’

‘Perfection is different when you’re only ten years old.’

As well as reading, Rick introduced Jimmy to chess, explaining every move throughout the games at first then playing without comment as Jimmy became familiar with the moves. As he had guessed, Jimmy was very bright but had suffered from a lack of encouragement and self-confidence. Jimmy tried to tell his father about his improved reading skills and his introduction to the
fascinating
game of chess, but Walter didn’t do anything but nod, his eyes glued to the newly acquired television or his newspaper.

Netta tried to show interest but her eyes glazed as he explained about kings, queens, bishops, knights, rooks and pawns. Jimmy
didn’t mind. His new friends were interested in him and Gwilym offered him a game – if Valmai could find his chess set.

Although Amy was happy to spend a little time with Jimmy and approved of Rick’s efforts to encourage the boy, she was still very prickly with most of the neighbours. Sally Travis, she ignored. Accepting Milly Sewell’s opinion that she was one of the criminal class made her decide not to give even a polite ‘good morning’, as that might be misconstrued as a friendly gesture.

Determined not to give up on the albeit slight chance of Gwilym starting to work, Valmai withdrew their savings and bought a shed. The workmen who delivered it also erected it, electricity and water was laid on and that Saturday morning in August, Gwilym went to inspect it.

‘It isn’t finished yet,’ Valmai told him. ‘On Monday there’s a surprise coming.’

‘Not more expense?’ he said softly. ‘We’ve spent so much, and so far there’s only the building. There’s the inside to set up before I can do anything, places for tools and a bench for me to work on.’

‘No more expense, I promise. I’ve spent the last penny I intend to spend. Now it’s up to you to make money. Of course you might like to take our wonderful friends for a pint in the Dragon. They’ve earned it. Ages since you’ve been there.’

He looked at her sorrowfully. ‘Not yet.’

‘Then we’ll get a few drinks and they can come here. Right?’

Eric had been to see the builders that were clearing the remains of the furniture factory ready for building houses and explained what he needed. Help was promised for Monday morning.

‘If only Rhys would come home, everything would be perfect,’ Valmai sighed as she closed her eyes and imagined Gwilym settle himself against the bench in the new shed.

In Bristol, Rhys was picking up the latest brown envelope from Sally and felt that his guilt and shame must be visible on his face. He walked out of the café as eyes followed him, convinced they all knew how badly he was treating someone who loved him, someone who didn’t deserve to be stuck with someone as dishonest as himself.

Someone else was thinking of Rhys that day. It was more than a month since the date she had expected Rhys to come home, face the police and tell everyone they were to be married. She had written to him, trying not to beg, but asking when he expected to appear. The situation had to be resolved soon.

Although she hadn’t been to the doctor to get it confirmed, Sally knew she was again expecting a child. Four months, during which she had fought against morning sickness and lethargy, had passed and soon her condition would be clear for everyone to see and she knew she could ignore it no longer. Rhys must come home. Once she had spoken to him, then she’d go and start the procedures for the baby’s care. How she would manage, that was a very different thing. They wouldn’t have much money at first, and how could she work and cope with two small children? How would she feed them? She had to persuade him to stay, face the police and answer any
questions
. There hadn’t been any talk about his guilt apart from people like Milly Sewell, and the Waterstones – who had altered details slightly, just enough to build rumours about Rhys’s involvement, rumours that had made Rhys run away, afraid he would lose the chance of training as a teacher if accusations by the police resulted in an arrest.

It was Tuesday, the day she went to the butcher’s, and Milly was certain to be there. Would she guess? Would she be the first to point out to others that the unmarried mother was expecting again and with no sign of a husband?

Fortunately she was delayed and the shop was empty when she went to buy her midweek order. That simple reprieve made the day just a little happier.

Gwilym heard the sound of activity at the end of the garden and cautiously peeped out through the curtains. Six of the men he had once worked beside were struggling to fit the bench into the shed. The door had been taken off and lay on the path alongside the gate, also removed to allow them to deliver the bench. Gwilym opened the door and, hiding his legs beneath the blanket, waved. He felt ashamed. These men had lost their jobs, too. One suffered from arthritis, another had poor sight, but they had found work. Over tea and pasties he learned about others. Ted and Arthur Jones had gone
to Australia. Peter Powell was in London, Maldwyn Porter had been killed in a fight in Liverpool aboard a ship. Then there was Walter, idling his time away being supported by Netta – who had found another job as soon as the closure had been announced. He should have done the same after the accident, not hidden here and allowed his wife to feed him. Guilt was a severe pain but it didn’t force him to go outside and join them. He’d left it too late. ‘I’ll make tea,’ he called. ‘Come when you’re ready.’

Valmai came down to pick up a bag of tools she had put ready. ‘Come on, Gwilym, you can face your friends, surely? They need to know where you want things placed. They need your help.’

‘I am helping. I’m making the tea,’ he muttered, wheeling himself back inside the kitchen.

Patching up the old shed hadn’t resulted in a beautiful building and by comparison with the new one it looked even worse. But to Valmai both sheds looked beautiful. By the evening everything was in place.

As soon as the men had gone, Gwilym went up to see what they had done and he felt as weepy as a child. The bench was perfect and the lathe, bought by Valmai as part of the surprise, had been set up exactly where it was most convenient. On the bench was a drawing pad and an assortment of pencils. Hesitantly at first, he picked up the pencil and began to draw. An ark, filled with couples of animals, and Noah and his family. Valmai crept up and watched for a few minutes, then with fingers tightly crossed she went back to the kitchen.

Rhys alighted from the train at the station a few miles from Tre Melin. He didn’t want to be seen by someone who knew him, although this time he would visit his parents. It would have to be after dark, which, as it was August, would be quite late. He went first to the mill and deposited his rucksack there. The sun had shone all day and the evening was so light it seemed set to go on and on, as though darkness would never come. He sat in the ruined mill, staring out at the trees grown so tall since he had played there as a child.

A movement caught his eye and he stiffened and prepared to get away. He didn’t recognize the boy, and as he concentrated on him, he realized he was talking to someone in a low voice. Rhys climbed
up into the loft and hoped they wouldn’t come in. His belongings were there; there had been no time to move them.

‘See,’ he heard the boy say, ‘on that paddle wheel? That was where the ducks raised their young. Gone now they have but perhaps they’ll come again next year.’

Rhys could now see the man with the boy but didn’t recognize him either. He’d been away two years. People come and go, he thought – perhaps they were new neighbours.

‘Want to go inside?’ the boy asked.

‘I think it’s getting a bit late, Jimmy.’

‘Jimmy Prosser,’ Rhys murmured. Taller and thinner in the face, but I recognize him now. The man’s a stranger, though.

‘Tell you what,’ the man said. ‘We’ll come back tomorrow. Your father will be wondering where you are.’

‘No, he won’t, Rick,’ Jimmy said. ‘He’s never bothered as long as I’m out of his hair.’ Rhys saw a slight flash of white teeth as the boy grinned. ‘Get out of my hair, that’s what he says, and him as bald as a coot!’ The sound of their laughter faded as they moved away.

Rhys followed them but turned across the fields towards School Lane before they reached the houses. The curtains were open in the room Sally rented. He couldn’t go in. Darting between bushes that offered cover, he picked up the pebble that was their sign and placed it in the middle of the porch. Risking a knock at the door, he ran back into the protection of the trees. There he waited until the door opened and Sally picked up the pebble, looked around for a few seconds then went back inside, leaving the door open. The curtains were drawn and moments later he was inside and holding Sally in his arms.

RHYS WAS AFRAID
to stay with Sally very long, but after their emotional reunion they talked about their future plans. Sally had been longing to tell him the news about a new baby, but she held back. She was waiting for him to tell her he was coming home, their long
separation
was at an end. Then she would tell him. Everyone would know about their secret love, about her support for him. She was a little surprised that he hadn’t noticed her thickening waist but presumed he would remark on it as soon as she told him about the baby.

‘I’m so ashamed of the way I’ve left you to deal with Sadie and the gossip,’ he said, holding her close. ‘I know you agreed – in fact it was your idea for me to get my qualification before risking talking to the police – but I still feel guilty.’

‘Two years out of a lifetime isn’t much when the rest of our lives will be so perfect.’

‘I’ll never forget what you’re doing, my darling Sally. I only hope it does have a satisfactory ending. There have been no more
burglaries
, and that, together with the fact I ran away, could make persuading the police I’m innocent very difficult.’

‘Looking back, was it the right thing to do? There has been no contact from the police. I’m sure they’d have found you if they’d really wanted to talk to you. A few miles wouldn’t deter them, would it?’ He didn’t reply and she asked, ‘Why did you leave? What convinced you that the police would accuse you? More than two years have passed and now I can’t remember what happened to make you run away.’

Rhys had never told her of the threat hanging over him from the plot set by David Gorse. He changed the subject with a brief silence
and a shrug, and her heart raced at his refusal to discuss it. She waited in silence, hoping he would explain, but when he spoke again it was about their daughter, asking about the latest developments. Then he asked casually, ‘See much of David Gorse these days? Did he find another job after the factory closed?’

‘No, he just hangs around, being kept by his doting mother, and complaining a lot about how life is unfair.’

‘He was sweet on you once. And he’s always hated me.’

‘He calls often and tries to become a friend, but I’ve always suspected he helped to spread the rumours. Many were easily convinced that you were a thief even though they disliked the man.’ She tried again to make him talk about the reasons he left but again he was evasive.

‘Don’t let’s talk about stuff like that. The few hours we have together are so valuable, darling Sally. I miss you so much when I’m away, I can’t think of anything but being here, close to you.’ He kissed her but there was something restrained about it. He wasn’t acting as the words implied; his mind was elsewhere.

She began to have fearful doubts. Too many questions without answers, no date even hinted at for his return, no news about applying for a job. What wasn’t he telling her?

Rhys’s thoughts were on David. He had often wondered whether David’s attraction to the shy, quiet Sally had been the reason for creating incriminating evidence then not using it. He’d had a few anxious moments after leaving, wondering whether Sally had been tempted by the presence of David’s admiration and the absence of his. Thank goodness his trust had been justified. Sally had already been pregnant when he’d left although he hadn’t known until later, at which point Sally had agreed to continue without him, support him and keep his whereabouts a secret. The thought of David bringing up his daughter was the stuff nightmares are made of. ‘Darling,’ he said with a sigh, ‘I have to go.’

‘Just another hour?’ she pleaded. She was filled with increasing alarm. Something was wrong.

‘No, I hate having to leave but this time I must see Mam and Dad. They’ve survived all this time on occasional postcards to remind them I’m still alive. It’s time to trust them with our secret.’

Your secret, she thought, not mine. She stood still for a long
moment when, after a prolonged goodbye, he slipped silently out of the house.

Sally was left with the feeling that their meeting was
unsatisfactory
, unfinished. She usually felt a glow of happiness when he had stayed for a few hours. Stolen hours, secret loving hours, and she daydreamed happily for days after his visits; of how soon they would be together, sharing their secret love. Secret love, how romantic it sounded. Yet this time she was filled with deep
disappointment
. If his exams were finished, why hadn’t he told her he was coming home to face the accusations and get their relationship on a firm base?

She walked to the door, opened it and looked out. She wanted to run after him, stand beside him as he told his parents the truth but she couldn’t leave Sadie. She tried to calm herself, she mustn’t get impatient after all this time. He was probably already planning their reunion and intending a wonderful surprise. She slid into her lonely bed and tried to relive the short time he had been with her,
remembering
how he had looked down at their sleeping daughter with such love and pride. It would be all right and very soon the empty years, the accusations, the sneering remarks would be nothing more than unimportant memories. She slipped into sleep, imagining his
expression
of joy when he learned about their second child.

Rhys moved slowly and carefully through the gardens, taking the long way round to keep out of sight for longer, cutting through the corner of the woods that led down to the old mill; a scene of his many fights with David Gorse. Feeling his way, avoiding anything that would give away his presence, his shadow an occasional companion, he heard nothing to indicate the presence of another soul. It was reminiscent of the games he used to play as a small boy, he mused, unaware then of how useful it would be to move silently all these years later.

Jimmy Prosser saw him and watched as he made his way towards Valmai and Gwilym’s house. He had been on the way to the mill and wondered whether the man had been sleeping there and whether it was he who had lost the mine worker’s token some months ago. Putting down the cakes and fruit he’d brought for a lonely midnight meal, he followed, excited at the impromptu game. Although they
had been neighbours until a few years ago, Jimmy didn’t recognize him, partly because he wouldn’t expect to see him there.

Rhys’s eyes became accustomed to the poor light, and as he neared the houses, the faint glow from the streetlamps at first made the darkness more intense, then the extra light added to his ability to see his way. He cut into a path leading from Mill Road to the old mill and quickly became aware of someone following him and he made a circle and came up behind Jimmy. He was relieved to see it was a young boy, although he didn’t recognize him in the shadowy
semi-darkness
. He stood perfectly still until the boy had moved away, using his ears to ensure he hadn’t turned off the path to do the same as he had done and come up behind him.

Puzzled by the man’s disappearance, Jimmy shrugged and went back for his midnight picnic, disappointed that he wouldn’t have company. Even David Gorse, whom he sometimes met and who ate more than his share, was better than no one.

Rhys knocked softly on his parents’ door. He heard his mother say, ‘That’ll be Netta, run out of milk or something. Come in, Netta,’ then as the living room door opened she leapt to her feet. ‘Rhys!’

Gwilym almost rose to his feet as well, forgetting in that moment of utter disbelief that he had been wheelchair-bound for over two years. He sat back and held out both arms. Rhys held them both, emotion making speech impossible.

‘Mam, Dad, I’m so sorry for what I’ve put you through.’

‘Why?’ Gwilym said, the words choked and guttural. ‘That’s what we want to know. Why did you leave?’ He couldn’t ask whether his son had been guilty of the thefts of which he’d been accused but the words were there, wanting to be said.

‘Guilty or not we’re your parents and we’d have supported you. Surely you know that?’

Valmai was less inhibited. ‘Did you do all those burglaries?’

Rhys led his mother to the couch where they sat close to Gwilym in his chair. He reached for their hands and said, ‘No, Mam, I didn’t, but there’s some evidence that says I did. I can’t explain, but I can tell you that if I’d stayed the evidence would have been handed to the police together with a story to convince them and I’d have been arrested. I had to get away. Sally willingly agreed to help me, but
other things occurred and – nothing that can’t be sorted. Very soon everything will be all right and I can come back.’ He smiled as he spoke; it sounded so easy he almost convinced himself. Then the image of David’s sneering face filled his mind and he felt that hope draining away. Perhaps his only chance was to stay away, take Sally and Sadie with him and begin a new life far away from his parents and the town that he’d always called home.

‘And Sally?’ Valmai asked, a frown creasing her brow, glancing at Gwilym.

Gwilym shifted in his chair. ‘I know Sadie’s your daughter, Rhys. That’s the part I find most difficult to understand.’

‘You knew?’ Valmai gasped. ‘I’ve been so careful not to say a word.’

‘I might be housebound but it’s my leg that’s missing, not my brain,’ he said, and smiled at her to avoid sounding critical. ‘I guessed as soon as the news of her baby reached us but didn’t say anything in case you were disapproving of the girl, then after weeks passed and you said nothing it seemed best to remain silent.’

Valmai laughed then. ‘Talk about secrets! What a family, eh?’

Gwilym wasn’t laughing. ‘Well?’ he said, staring at his son. ‘What justification d’you give for leaving Sally to face everything on her own? The birth of a baby, the comments of vicious women like Milly Sewell? Was that necessary too? Denying that the baby’s yours, are you?’

‘Dad, we’ve stayed in touch. I’ve visited them when I dared. I couldn’t risk coming here, I’m sorry. But you’re right about her having to face the birth and the gossip on her own. Believe me, it wasn’t something I wanted to do but she insisted. She knew that if there had been even a hint of trouble with the police I might have lost my freedom. Sally is a remarkable young woman and I’ll never forget her loyalty and bravery. She is a wonderful person and I’m very lucky to have her love.’

‘And Sally, does she have yours?’ Gwilym asked softly. ‘Or is she just useful?’

‘The most important things in my life are Sally and Sadie and everything else comes a poor second.’ He eased himself away from them and stood up. ‘Now I have to go. It gets light around five and I have to be well away from here by then.’ He paused and added, ‘Sorry to sound dramatic, but please don’t mention my visit, or that
I’ve been living in Bristol. Just in case the police are given the misleading evidence. For one thing I don’t want Sally to be hassled.’

Valmai was tearful after he left, hurt by the revelation that Sally had known how to get in touch and had seen him, while they hadn’t received more than a few misleading postcards. As though guessing her thoughts, Gwilym said, ‘We’re too close to a lot of houses. Sally lives down in School Lane. Besides, we have friends and might have been tempted to tell someone out of pride, rather than have everyone think he’d forgotten us.’

‘And now? We’re trusted with his secret after more than two years so what’s changed?’

‘We know a part of the reason. And inviting Sally and Sadie to visit won’t add to the faded gossip, will it?’

A week later Sally brought her little girl to tea. Young Jimmy from next door came in and surprised them by getting on the floor with a couple of books Valmai had bought and entertaining the little girl. He didn’t read well and Valmai quietly helped when he stumbled over words.

Some gossip resulted from the visit, mainly encouraged,
unsurprisingly
, by Milly Sewell but as there was little to add, it quickly died. In late September it began again. Sally’s pregnancy was becoming impossible to hide.

Milly was walking past and as usual she gave Sally a searching look then asked, ‘All right, are you? You and your poor little
fatherless
child?’

Sally ignored her but Milly’s sharp eyes noticed something Rhys had not. ‘You’re never expecting again! Don’t deny it. I can see from your face that I’m right! Haven’t you got any shame? Pity help that poor little girl being brought up by a mother who takes men to her bed without a thought for anyone else.’

Sally began to protest, longing to explain, but she knew she couldn’t. Her promise to Rhys must be kept. Instead she hotly denied it and dared Milly to repeat her lies. Milly watched as Sally, red-faced and distressed, hurried away. ‘Mrs Falconer first, I think,’ she muttered.

Amy and Rick were still appearing at the Waterstones’ house during the evenings and on Sundays. The house was beginning to look ready
for residents again after the upheavals and Jimmy began to be a regular visitor. He helped with some of the chores and was rewarded by a few hours of their attention. Not being a capable reader had made Rick believe he had some problems but his ability with the game of chess changed his mind. He was a quick learner and after a dozen lessons, going through the game explaining his moves, Rick found him a capable player. One Sunday at the end of September, he was presented with his own chess set. ‘Perhaps you can teach your father,’ Amy suggested.

Jimmy only laughed, but when he went home, proud of his new ability, he did show the figures to his father, explaining what they were and the moves they could make. That night he heard his parents quarrelling.

He stepped out on to the landing and heard the gruff voice of his father. ‘Turning the boy’s head!’ he was shouting. ‘Giving him games he can’t play. Chess isn’t for the likes of us and it’s stupid to think he can learn.’

‘Glad you should be that someone’s taking an interest. That’s more than you’ve ever done, Walter Prosser! You never wanted him.’

‘You’re right there. I didn’t! The boy’s useless. Gets on my nerves.’

Jimmy slapped his hands over his ears and hid under the covers. Why did his father hate him so much? What was wrong with chess? When he woke the following morning he looked for the beautiful chess pieces and board and found them thrown into the ash bin.