Facing the World

by Grace Thompson

  She pushed the tree down on to the landing, carefully carried down the box of fragile baubles then went back and brought down the picture and the silver vase. She spent a happy couple of hours cleaning them, then put them back, carefully rewrapped, so David’s surprise wouldn’t be spoilt.

  When he came home, David was alarmed when he saw the tree dressed in the bright decorations. ‘Mam! Have you been up in the loft? You shouldn’t do things like that. Why didn’t you wait for me?’

  ‘I remembered where they were, I didn’t have to search,’ she said, hoping he wouldn’t notice the difference in the way the secret gifts had been wrapped. ‘It didn’t take more than a minute or two.’

  Later, David made the excuse of going up and making sure there were no more trimmings they could use and he was relieved to see the picture and bowl still wrapped and in the same place as he’d left them.

  Sally arranged a day when she and Eric would go to Bristol and one week before Christmas, on Monday 18th, they went. Sally directed them to the place where she had seen Rhys with the woman who, in the unlikely event of Milly being right, was Eric’s daughter. Amy and Rick waited in the car when they walked up the steps and knocked at the door. There was no reply and going around to the back they knocked again but no one came. The thin curtains were drawn but no light showed. The place looked deserted.

  Hiding the disappointment they all felt, they got back in the car and went to spend a few hours enjoying the shops. Sadie loved the displays and shouted in excitement as they went into each new store. Rick carried her part of the time as, from her pushchair, down among shopping bags and people’s knees, she couldn’t see what was going on and protested loudly to let them know.

  Before they left to drive home, Rick took them back to the house where Rhys had apparently lived and Eric walked around again to find nothing had changed. The place looked abandoned. ‘They might be away for Christmas,’ Eric said. ‘I’ll have to be patient until the New Year.’

  ‘Sorry, Eric, I should have faced them when I came first instead of running away.’

  ‘Don’t worry. After so long, what’s another few days?’

  ‘Look, we aren’t in a hurry to get home, shall we go somewhere and eat?’ Rick suggested. ‘Sadie will sleep in the car going home if she’s tired and we can call it a pre-Christmas treat.’

  They chose a small restaurant and it was almost ten o’clock when they reached home. Sally, carrying her shopping with a sleeping Sadie over her shoulder, opened the front door and stood to wave as Eric, Amy and Rick drove away. Then a figure materialized a few feet away.

  ‘Please, Sally, can I come in?’ Rhys asked.

  Sally threw the shopping bags inside, went in after them and without a word, closed the door.

  She knew that was wrong. She should have allowed him in and given him the chance to tell her about the woman. If it was Eric’s daughter he needed to know. She had let Eric down again by shutting the door against Rhys. She put Sadie down and went outside, but there was no sign of him. Why had she acted so selfishly? Why hadn’t she thought about Eric before slamming the door?

  Jimmy was on his bed, lying on his front, propped up on his elbows with his hands over his ears. Even with his hands pressed tightly as he could, he could still hear them arguing. His father’s low rumbling voice in counterpoint to the high-pitched shrieking of his mother’s. The book in front of him was one lent to him by Rick and it was an interesting story, but the shouting from the kitchen made it impossible to concentrate. If only he had somewhere to go he’d be out of here as fast as his feet could take him.

  Eric was no longer his friend. Recently he’d often refused to go for a walk with him, even when he wanted to show him where the badgers had run, leaving tufts of their hair on the wire fencing. Nobody likes me, he thought glumly. Dad’s right and I’m useless. It was only eight o’clock but, still fully dressed, he slid between the sheets. He pressed his head into the pillow and brought another over his other ear but still the noise went on. Then there was a sudden and louder sound. Plates smashed, and what sounded like a table being overturned. He dug deeper into the covers and closed his eyes tight as though that could help to obliterate the sounds from below.

  Then there was silence that was as unnerving as the noise and he got out of bed and went on to the landing. The voices were still to be heard but quieter now. His mother’s voice was the easiest to hear and she was telling his father to go.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere!’ Walter raised his voice again. ‘If anyone leaves it’s going to be you and you can take that useless boy with you.’ Jimmy heard the back door open and slam closed and the sound of his mother’s slippered feet running down the path.

  He didn’t wait to hear any more. He grabbed his clothes, the blankets packed ready for when he had to leave, and when he heard his father go into the living room and turn on the television very loud he went cautiously down, stole the contents of his mother’s purse, then filled a bag with food and a bottle of pop and left the house, staggering under his load.

  He was surprised at how cold it was. He’d been under the bed covers fully dressed and the contrast hit him with a shock. Frost sparked on the fences and on patches of damp on the road. He wondered where his mam had gone. Why hadn’t she waited for him, he wondered sadly. Forgot I was there, like she usually does when she and Dad argue.

  He’d have preferred it if his father had been the one to leave and for a moment he hesitated and wondered whether his dad might be all right without anyone to argue with. But then, he decided sadly, he’d still have me, ‘that useless boy’, to shout at. He hurried on. Tomorrow he’d go and see Valmai and Gwilym – they’d know what to do – but for tonight he’d go and seek comfort in the old mill. He patted his shoulder bag. Food, drink and paper and matches to light a fire. He’d be all right until morning.

  Rhys went to his parents’ house and having heard about Gwilym’s accident asked to be allowed to stay. ‘This is still your home, Rhys,’ Valmai said, but she was uneasy. She felt that by allowing him to stay she was letting Sally down, but what else could she do? He was her son and she couldn’t send him away. Specially with so many questions needing answers. ‘You can’t use your room, mind. Netta’s in there. She and Walter have had a serious falling out. You can sleep here on your dad’s chair.’ He didn’t sleep, but sat beside the fire and tried to prepare the words he needed to say to Sally, if she ever allowed him to say them. She had to be the first one to hear his story. Then he’d tell his parents and ask them all to forgive him or at least to understand.

  He and Julia had left the house in Bristol for the Christmas period. He hoped they wouldn’t be going back. She had taken her daughter and gone to spend Christmas with a friend in West Wales for a week. He had decided that the time had come to explain all that had happened. Would Sally understand? Would she even allow him to tell his story?

  Netta was surprised to see Rhys there when she went downstairs early the next morning. His eyes were closed and she tiptoed past him and filled the kettle as quietly as she could. But he followed her into the kitchen and began putting cups out on a tray.

  ‘I’ve got your room, Rhys, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. I’m a big boy now, Auntie Netta,’ he said, using the name he’d used all his life. ‘If things hadn’t gone so terribly wrong, I’d be married with a home of my own by now.’

  Netta didn’t ask for an explanation; this was not her business. ‘Uncle Walter and I have had too many rows. I couldn’t stand it any longer.’

  ‘Where’s Jimmy?’

  ‘Still asleep. I’ll go and fetch him and give him breakfast a bit later. Best to let him sleep while he can and I don’t want to go and wake up Walter and start more rows.’

  They heard Valmai coming down the stairs and Rhys looked towards the door ready to greet her. ‘Mam, I’ll explain when I’ve spoken to Sally. She needs to be told before anyone else.’

  Valmai shrugged. ‘What about you, Netta, are you goin
g back to see to Jimmy? Frightened he’ll be and wondering where you are.’

  ‘Will you go and fetch him? Please, Val. I just can’t face the man. He’ll only start off again. Bring Jimmy here and before the end of the day I’ll have decided what to do.’

  ‘Of course I’ll fetch Jimmy. And you can stay as long as you need to. Just get things settled once and for all, for Jimmy’s sake as well as yours.’

  Rhys drank some tea and then left. He walked to the house on School Lane and looked up at the windows, shining in the sudden brightness of an early morning sun. There were lights on in one bedroom and below. At the side, a shaft of light shone from between partially open curtains in what was probably the kitchen. He followed the path around to the back door and knocked.

  He heard voices within and the soft giggle of a child. A pang of pain pierced him as he thought about what he had done to his daughter. The voices stopped and the door opened a crack.

  ‘Sally, please, let me talk to you. I want to see you and Sadie. I have to explain. Please.’ The door closed without Sally uttering a word.

  ‘Damn! I’ve done it again!’ she gasped aloud. What is the matter with me? I’ve let Eric down again! He deserves to know whether or not the woman was his daughter. What sort of a friend am I that I could miss the chance of finding the answer, twice? Then she excused herself by remembering that she had to get to work and before then get Sadie ready and taken to the nursery. Now Rhys was here. Eric would soon learn the truth. Her not opening the door wouldn’t change anything. Rhys owed everyone an explanation and she didn’t need to mess up her day to help him. Now was a stupid time to knock on her door. Satisfied for the moment that the blame was with Rhys, she hurriedly prepared for the start of the day. ‘Come on, lazy bones,’ she called to Sadie. ‘Time to get ready for nursery.’

  David was there as she went to her car and she almost didn’t see him. The man at the edge of her sight she presumed to be Rhys and she got into the car and slammed the door, turned on the engine and was moving off when he reached the driver’s door. ‘Sally, wait!’

  She switched off the engine. ‘David. I’m sorry. I thought it was Rhys.’

  ‘He’s back?’ David was surprised. ‘I don’t know how he can face you. Wants more money, does he? Or more time?’

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t give him a chance to tell me.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Let’s forget Rhys, shall we? He’s no longer a part of my life and he doesn’t appear to want to be part of Sadie’s either.’

  ‘That’s fine by me!’ He leaned into the car and kissed her cheek. ‘Sally, I was going to ask if you were free for an hour, lunchtime maybe? Or can you leave early? With only days to go I haven’t bought anything for Mam and I know she would like a dressing gown. Now how can I choose a dressing gown? I don’t know what size or what colour she’d like. I was hoping you’d help.’

  ‘Can you meet me in Cardiff, near the office, at three? I’ll have an hour but I’ll have to go back to the office. We’ll find something in an hour, surely.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Smiling, he waved her off. ‘I can’t wait,’ he shouted. Rhys was back and he’d keep coming back. It was time to play his trump card and get rid of him for good. Taking Sally away from him might be easier than he’d thought. But if Rhys no longer wanted her, if he’d found someone else, that would be different. He didn’t want her if Rhys didn’t. There was no fun in that.

  Netta kept putting off going back into her house and it was Valmai who, at half past eight, went to wake Jimmy and bring him back to give him breakfast. Walter was sleeping, slack-mouthed, on a couch and the place smelled unpleasantly of stale food and beer and cigarette smoke. There was no sign of Jimmy. Giving Walter a prod to rouse him she told him she was going to wake his son and ran up the stairs. Jimmy’s room was empty. She looked in the other bedroom and ran down, alarm growing by the second. ‘Walter! Where’s Jimmy? He hasn’t gone to school without breakfast, has he?’

  ‘Still in bed. Never gets up in time unless he’s called.’

  ‘And you didn’t think to call him!’ She looked at the clock. It was almost nine o’clock. ‘Walter, he isn’t here! For heaven’s sake, man, he’s only eleven and you don’t know where he is! When did he go? He could have walked out some time during the night and he didn’t knock on my door, so where would he go?’

  ‘He’ll be all right. On his way to school, sure to be.’ But he looked concerned. His eyes, bleary and watery, had widened in alarm.

  ‘Walter, wake up! It’s cold out there. We don’t know how long he’s been out there. We have to find him!’

  Netta appeared then, and guessed from the expression on their faces that once again Jimmy had run away. ‘Where will you look?’ she shouted. ‘What if he isn’t at school? What then? Proud of yourself, are you? Driving a child out because of your idleness and foul temper. Shamed you should be, Walter Prosser. Shamed.’

  ‘Us you mean. It isn’t only me. He’s running away because of US!’

  ‘And who can blame him,’ Netta whispered, looking at Valmai in fright. ‘It’s winter – he can’t be sleeping out in this, can he?’ She grabbed her purse and ran to the phone box. The children would be filing into their classes and she asked the secretary to phone back and let her know if Jimmy Prosser was present. She tapped her fingers impatiently on the phone as she waited for the call, shushing away someone who came wanting to use it. She willed him to be there and that he hadn’t wandered off somewhere. The weather wasn’t seriously cold but the temperature was low enough for a night out to be dangerous for a young boy. She kept picturing the old mill, imagining Jimmy sleeping then slipping into unconsciousness and – the terrifying thoughts stopped there as the phone rang.

  No, Jimmy wasn’t at school.

  Jimmy hadn’t slept well. The floor never lost its chill, the blankets too were cold to the touch and his nose seemed like a piece of ice that didn’t belong to his face. As dawn broke he rose, checked his compass and began to walk south. The money he had taken from his mother’s purse would last a few days, then he’d go to the police, give a false name and he’d be taken to a children’s home where there’d be lots of friends and no one calling him useless.

  Rhys went at once to look for the boy. Firstly to the mill where there was no sign of him although a few apple cores suggested he – or someone else – had stayed there for a while. He looked around the place where he had spent many hours as a child; friends and imagination was all they had needed. The paddles on the waterwheel were obviously being cleaned. Piles of moss and water weed stood on the bank of the stream and several of the paddles had been scraped clean. The water was moving sluggishly and grease was visible on the moving parts of the pen-stock which had once controlled the water to the wheel along the leat. Jimmy’s work, he guessed. Spending time here to escape the rows at home, he’d have been glad of something to pass the time. Poor lonely, frightened little boy.

  He walked through the woods, searching each of the many places he had played in years before. The hollow ash where they’d left messages for other gang members, the hazel tree that drooped and made a good hiding place, but with the leaves fallen from the trees they were no longer any use for concealment. Some evergreens offered hope but yielded no sign of Jimmy being there recently. He went back to the house to see if anyone else had been more fortunate.

  Eric was there and he nodded with little friendliness at Rhys, before turning away.

  ‘Eric, I have to talk to you.’

  ‘Jimmy’s missing. He’s the priority now.’

  ‘But I have things to tell you.’

  ‘Forget Eric and tell me where you’ve looked,’ Walter said, glaring at Eric.

  Ignoring him, Rhys said, ‘Eric, I have to talk to you.’

  ‘Later!’

  An hour later, having faced accusations from everyone for his neglect of his son, Walter’s face had lost its anger. He looked deflated, and more than a little afraid. He had washed hurriedly and had already walked the stre
ets following the route Jimmy would normally take to school. He had asked the teacher to talk to Jimmy’s friends and ask them for suggestions as to where he might have gone. He rejoined the others in Valmai’s house.

  ‘I’ve searched the mill and the woods around,’ Rhys told them now. ‘I doubt if he’s gone far. He’s probably nearby, punishing someone, making them worry.’

  ‘But we have to find him. He can’t survive in this weather,’ Netta wailed.

  ‘I think I might find him,’ Eric said. ‘If he hears my voice I think he’d come out for me.’

  ‘Stay away from my son!’ Walter snapped. ‘You’re probably the reason why he ran away.’ Shocked, Eric sat down on the chair normally used by Valmai and stared unseeing at the ashes of the fire.

  Valmai came and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Talking through his hat as usual. Ignore him,’ she said loudly, glaring at the man.

  ‘But I know I’m the one to find him. He’ll come if he hears me,’ Eric said anxiously. ‘Every minute he’s out there in this weather, the more dangerous it becomes.’

  ‘Stay away. I’m warning you.’ Walter muttered. He knew he was being stupid but guilt and something more, jealousy of Eric, made him keep up his ridiculous attack. He had to find his son, not Eric. He went out and leaned on the wall, staring over the fields, then went back inside.

  Rhys was returning to the house when he heard raised voices. Sally and his mother were having a disagreement, Sally insistent and his mother pleading. He quickly gathered that if he stayed, Sally and Sadie would not spend Christmas Day with his parents. He had caused them all enough misery. It was time Rhys left.