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The past week had been surprisingly pleasant. He had worked ten hours a day and would have been willing to go on" only Janet had put her foot down. Janet, he found, was a surprising woman, apart from his knowledge of her as a child, and a young girl, when he remembered her being full of chitcnat, anu merry, anu liicii uuruig ucr visus lu ucip 111 luc uuusc when she had appeared slightly reserved, he had really known nothing about her. Yet this week he had found out a lot about her. She was sympathetic and kind. But he had always known that much, that had been made clear in the black days two years ago. But during the past week he had come to recognise her as an intelligent woman. Her conversation was bracing; she even made the future appear bright. And that was something, for his future was a dark patch, of which he was afraid.

As he stared towards the road he thought, If everything goes right this afternoon I'll be as happy as ever I'll be.

When he heard the car turn into the lane he went hastily indoors, across the hall and into the kitchen, where Janet had a substantial tea all ready spread out, and he said to her, "I heard the car, Janet.

Do you mind if I see her in my room? "

"Of course not. You go on and I'll send her in." He nodded and, turning hastily about, went down a passage and into a small room that held, along one side of it, a single bed, a chair and a chest of drawers. On the bare floor at the other side were two tin baths and a large earthenware dish, the last hole in the rafters of that section of the roof explaining their presence.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and put. his joined hands between his knees. He could hear Robbie's voice now and Janet's muted tones, but he heard no sound of a third voice. His teeth were gritting against each other when the tap came on the door.

He only had to rise and take one step to open it and there she stood, his daughter, and he hardly recognised her. She was thinner, as he knew she would be, and her features were the same as he remembered them, but when he remembered them they had promised beauty, exceptional beauty, yet the girl before him was almost plain. Her fair hair that had flowed like sunlit water down on to her shoulders was pulled tightly back over her head. She was eighteen, yet she could have passed for any age up to twenty-five.

"My dear." The words were thick. He extended his hands tentatively towards her, but she didn't take them and she didn't speak. He gulped in his throat before he stepped back to let her enter the room; then he placed a chair for her and

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His hands gripped on his knees now, he said softly, "Oh, Gail; it's good to see you." He waited for her to speak, and when she didn't he said formally, "How are you?"

She was staring at him, her eyes wide, her whole face tense. He watched her lips part as if she were about to speak; then there came a sound from her throat as if a balloon had burst inside. The eruption was painful, for she gripped her neck, closed her eyes tightly and swallowed. His hands were moving |t out to her again when, as if the past two years had never been, she flung herself forward and into his arms and, sobbing loudly, she cried, "Oh Dad! Dad!" And he held her as he used to do and rocked her silently, his own eyes tightly screwed up now against the pain and happiness that was filling him. He hadn't lost her, she was still his.

FIVE

"Why are you doing your hair like that?"

Gail looked through the mirror at her mother, then said, "Because I want a change."

"It suited you better drawn straight back."

"It didn't."

"Don't answer me in that fashion, Gail; I've told you before."

"Well, it didn't. And you know it didn't."

Esther looked at her daughter, her eyes narrowed. The change in her was more startling today. Could it be she had a boy? No, that was impossible. She had rejected the idea before. But she was different.

Something had happened . Could it be that she had seen him? No, that was impossible too; John picked' her up from work most evenings, and when she went to the pictures she herself accompanied her. The only place she went to alone was the Old People's Home. Well, she would find out today if there was anything going on there.

As Gail pushed past her to go out of the room she said, "Terry's going with you to see Gran."

"What!" Gail stopped dead.

"Terry? Why? Not one of you's bothered to go and see Gran before, so why' is Terry starting now? ... Oh, don't tell me." She thrust her head forward.

"I know."

"What are you talking about?"

"You koow what I'm talking about." She marched out of the room, across the landing and down the stairs, to see Terry standing in the hall looking somewhat shamefaced.

She paused on the bottom step and stared at him, and he lifted his gaze quickly from hers and looked upwards to his mother standing on the stair head. Then turning abruptly, he

Gail followed more slowly, and she resisted coming abreast of him until they reached the street, but as soon as she came to his side he muttered under his breath, "Don't blame me, I didn't want this. It isn't my idea of a Saturday afternoon out."

"Then why didn't you tell her?" she snapped at him, but kept her gaze directly ahead. And he came back, his tone equalling hers, "Well, it was either me or John, and I thought I was the lesser of two evils for you."

"John would never give up his rugger."

That's all you know. He was quite prepared to do it if I hadn't said I would come with you. "

They were looking at each other now and she said, as if the knowledge was new-to her, "He hates Dad more than she does."

Terry made no answer to this but he looked ahead again as he asked softly, "Have you seen him?"

Yes. "

"Is that why you've been late this last couple of times?"

"Yes."

Where is he? "

"He's staying with Janet."

' Janet Dunn? "

Again they were looking at each other.

"Yes, Janet Dunn. Why do you sound shocked, he's got to stay somewhere?"

'. But that place in Baker Street. "

"They don't live in Baker Street any more."

"Where then?"

"Robbie's taken a big old house out beyond the Beular Mine, it's called Scarfield Mill. Dad's helping to rebuild it."

"Dad helping to rebuild a house?" His voice trailed away.

"Yes." Her head was thrust out towards him now, her voice cold again.

"He learned to do it in prison."

"All right, all right, you needn't shout." He looked about him.

There's enough people know already. "

They were waiting for the bus when Gail, looking pleadingly at him, asked, "What are you going to do? I mean, are you going to tell her?"

"What do you take me for."

She smiled faintly at him, then said, Thanks, Terry. "

M.

e hung his head until she asked, "Would you like to come along with me and see him?"

His head still remained bowed as he muttered, There'd be the devil to pay if she found out, or worse still if John found out, and especially as it's Robbie Dunn he's with. You know what he thinks of him.

There'd be murder. "

"They need know nothing if we're back in time."

He raised his head.

"You think it'll be all right?"

"Yes."

"O.K. I'd ... I'd like to see him. How is he?"

"He's, he's fine, but sort of quiet. It'll make him happy to see you."

He drooped his head again and they remained silent; but when the bus came she said, "Let's go on top." For a moment she was a young girl again, eager for excitement, even if it was only riding on top of a bus. Life wasn't so awful. She had her dad again and Terry was on their side.

The days drifted into weeks and the weeks into months, during which life seemed to stand still for Harry/ He felt he was marking time; as a prelude to what he didn't know. There was enough work on the house to keep him busy for another two years, but was that what he wanted? He just didn't know. What he did know was that if he had wanted to leave tomorrow he wouldn't have done so, because his gratitude to Robbie and Janet would have compelled him to stay as long as they required him.

When thinking of gratitude he put Robbie first, for he knew it was he who had made this quiet retreat possible. And living here was like a retreat. Except for the picnickers who came on to the hill behind the house on a sunny day, and Gail who came every Saturday or Sunday, accompanied by Terry, he saw no one other than Janet and Robbie; that is except on a Sunday or a Wednesday when Robbie would drive him out to see his grandmother. And if it would have been possible to get out of these visits he would have done so, for the sight of that high spirited old woman sitting among thirty other old women was one of the worst things he had been called upon to bear, equal in its way to his early estrangement from Gail.

There had been suggestions from both Gail and Robbie to alter the situation. Robbie suggested bringing her out as soon as he got a room ready. Well, he had got a room ready but she wouldn't come. And then there was Gail's suggestion that they should find a little place and the three of them live together. He hadn't given his grandmother the opportunity to refuse this suggestion because he had never put it to her. He knew that his lack of enthusiasm for her proposal had upset Gail. She

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LUUiLlli t LCli her. How explain that he didn't feel capable of taking on responsibility of a home ever again? How to explain that he felt so unsure of himself that at times he wished he was back in that small room where he had no control over his own life, where his every action was set to a timetable?

When he allowed himself to think he likened his present existence to the life in an open prison; he knew what work he bad to do, his meals were put before him, and in the evening he could read, or look at television, and for privileges there was the occasional jaunt in the car. It was all he wanted.

And then came the morning that Robbie said, "I've got an idea, Harry.

Like to hear it? "

"Fire away." Harry smiled, picked up a piece of toast, put some marmalade on it, bit into it, then looked across the table at Robbie, who was leaning back in his chair with a cup of tea in his hand.

"Well, before I start," said Robbie, now looking at Janet, "I want you to be quiet, Mam, because before I open me mouth I can hear you say, "

Oh, no, you don't"; so will you oblige me, Mrs. Dunn, by keeping-yours closed?"

"That all depends." Janet nodded at him.

"If it's anything harebrained..."

"Hare-brained, tatty haired, long haired, it doesn't matter, it's something I've been chewing on for months. I thought I'd have a chew on it for another year or so, but because-Harry there has done such a good job I could get going anytime."

"Something about the house?" asked Harry now.

"Something about the house, Harry ... The roof's all done, all the windows in the front are done, the whole front's presentable, and the front's what I want. The long room's done ..."

"Look 1 I don't know what you've got in mind but you said that was going to be our sitting ..."

"It will be, it will be. Didn't I tell you to keep it shut." He leaned towards Janet. Then looking at Harry again, he went on, "As I said, the long room's done and you've done more than half the panelling on the hall. Now how long will it take you to finish the woodwork there?"

"Oh'--Harry paused, thinking--'another month I should say.

"Four weeks, five weeks, six weeks, that'll be fine. Now this is what I propose." He put his cup on the table and laid a hand palm downwards at each side of it.

"I aim to furnish the hall, an' the long room as showrooms, period rooms, and that'll only be a start ..." He now lifted one hand sharply in Janet's direction, saying, "What did I tell you? Now keep it quiet for a minute until I'm finished." He drew in a deep breath; then addressed Harry again.

"It could be asked who's going to come out here from Pellburn to buy antiques, they're not an antique- minded lot except those on Brampton Hill and they're thinning out fast? Well, I'm not going to look for my market in Fell- burn. I have four good customers in Newcastle and I'm sending stuff the morrow to a house in Doncaster. Now what I propose when these Newcastle lot come into the shop is to bring them out here.

They're moneyed people, two in shipping. One in oil, and one running a chain of shops, so many now he can't count them. Nor can he speak English; and his wife's even worse. I could give them some pointers, that'll tell you how bad they are." He nodded and grinned at Harry.

"But they've got this thing about furnishing the house with antiques and he, being a business man, got the idea that if he can pick up bargains locally why go further afield. Now from people like them it's only a step to the American market, and that's where I'm going, and , not through half-a-dozen middlemen either. Well, what do you think.

Harry?"

Harry stared at Robbie; then he looked at Janet, and he said, "Well, it isn't what I think surely, it's your mother, isn't it?"

"Look, I can manage her, I always have." His grin in Janet's direction was wide now. Then again he said, "Well, tell me what you think?"

"I think it's a very astute business idea and I can see you making it work."

"I can't on me own."

No? "

"No. I can't be in two places, or three places for that matter at once, at the sales, at the shop and here. Sid is not bad in the shop, but then again he's not good. I've got to put up with Sid and pray to God he won't give the things away while I'm out.

it bluntly someone with a bit of class like yourself. "

"Aw, Robbie." Harry shook his head heavily.

"Now don't aw Robbie me in that way, I mean it. What I'm offering you is a partnership."

Harry's head came up with a jerk.

"A partnership? But you know how I stand, I've got..."

"You've got everything I want. You've got the ability to build this place, which you're practically doing on your own an', as I've said, you've got a presence, you'll be able to talk to people ..."