Ellis had been with them from the first day and when Jack and Jimmy’s suspicions were aroused, they were foolishly hesitant to go at once to the police. Instead they gave him the chance to explain and he declared himself as puzzled as they were. He promised to work overtime in an effort to solve the mystery. Jimmy persisted in his demand to go to the police but Jack felt they owed the man the chance to prove himself innocent. So they did nothing, waiting for Ellis to come up with an answer. Although Dic and Jimmy tried their hardest to persuade Jack, he was reluctant. The three of them were friends. How could he accuse Ellis of stealing from them? Being in business himself Dic knew there was no doubt about the dishonest intent. The alterations were quite deliberate and all in one direction-reducing the money in the firm’s profit and the balance in the bank. However hard Ellis Owen searched, he wouldn’t find the missing money. It was gone.
When the truth that they had been systematically robbed was undeniable, Jimmy had officially accused Ellis. Before the police could act, he went to tell him to his face, hoping Ellis would admit it and save them a lot of trouble. The three of them had been friends and spent many hours together out of work, mostly fishing – either from the shore or out in a boat belonging to Ellis so Jimmy knew where to look.
He started at Ellis’s home and Terri Owen, his wife, admitted she couldn’t help. ‘There’s a storm brewing,’ she said, looking up at the sky, ‘so I don’t expect he’ll be fishing, although that was what he intended.’
‘Did he take a rod and tackle?’
‘Oh yes, my Ellis is daft enough to try, even in this weather. Nothing puts him off once he’s made up his mind.’
Jimmy went to all the usual places where Ellis might be found, but there was no trace of him. On impulse, and finding himself only a few miles away, he went to Mumbles Pier, where he found the man calmly leaning over the side looking down at the water. The sea was wild that day and the signs were that it would get worse. Huge waves were lashing the shore and there was no one else attempting to catch fish, although there were several groups of people watching in wonder at the fury of the sea.
Ellis must have seen Jimmy approaching, although his angry shouts were lost in the tumult of the storm. He waved, then picked up his rod and box of equipment and began to walk towards him. As Jimmy drew closer he released his anger.
‘Come here, you disgusting, thieving, unprincipled lout!’
Ellis began to back away from him, throwing his rod down he ran back on to the pier and Jimmy followed. Hesitantly a few people went forward but the wind was so strong they had to cling to the rails to make any progress and fear held them back. One called for someone to phone the police.
‘What’s the matter with you, Jimmy? What have I done?’
‘Done? You’ve stolen our business, and don’t deny it!’ As Jimmy reached Ellis he began pushing him, shouts from both men almost unheard, ripped away by the raging storm. Accusations and counter accusations followed and soon blows were being struck and a serious fight ensued.
The police arrived and were on their way to separate the furious men but they were too late to prevent Ellis going over the side into the turbulent water. Jimmy went in after him, but although he stayed in the dangerous water until a couple of men tied themselves to a long line and hauled him to the shore, there was no sign of Ellis. Days passed and Ellis’s body did not appear.
With so many witnesses, including the police, Jimmy was believed at first. But in the leeway the partners had foolishly allowed him, Ellis had cleverly rewritten the books, and added a few embellishments. Later, the court was told that evidence of theft pointed not at Ellis Owen, but at Jimmy Vaughan.
There had been many descriptions and counter descriptions of the events of that afternoon. Soon the rumour of attempted murder spread accusing Jimmy of pushing the man over into the sea to hide his guilt. It had only taken one man to say he had seen the flash of a knife blade for others to believe they might have seen the same. The foreshore was searched but no weapon was found and although their story was ignored, the rumours continued, fuelled by the confusion of that afternoon, the disappearance of Ellis Owen, and reinforced by Jimmy’s arrest.
Back in 1945, both Jimmy Vaughan and Jack Morris had sold their houses to invest in their new business and they were both short of money as they had since had added further savings to keep the business afloat as things became difficult. The prosecution could find no evidence of Jimmy and Emily having more money than they declared, but suspicion was strong and the police believed that the money had been hidden and would one day be revealed, probably by careless over-spending. Jimmy had escaped the charge of attempted murder, but the shadow of it hung over him and his family.
For Jimmy, his greatest hurt was that his friend and partner Jack didn’t believe him. His greatest fear was that with the only man who knew the truth being dead, there was no one able to prove any different and he would remain in prison for a crime he hadn’t committed, and come out a broken man still under suspicion of murder.
Lowri had hidden her sadness and frustration at the unfairness of the sentence bravely, and smiled confidently at everyone, telling herself her father was innocent and therefore she had no cause to be otherwise, but she often cried herself to sleep thinking of her father in that awful place.
Part of her sadness was the loss of Jack Morris – Uncle Jack – and Auntie Cathy. Their son too had been lost to her. Dic Morris had been there all her life and was like an adored big brother. She felt the pain of losing them almost as badly as losing her parents. Seeing them pass her by without a word had been very painful, but now she had moved away and she must forget them and concentrate on her new life with new friends.
Living among strangers in Cwm Derw and settled in Badgers Brook, she had found peace. The house wrapped her in warm comfort and the atmosphere was calming, giving her a chance to accept what she couldn’t change, and ease away the anger she had felt for so long. Cathy Morris had written to her three times and Dic twice, but she had thrown them all on the fire. Strangers had soon become friends and she no longer grieved for those she had lost, even loved ones like Uncle Jack, Auntie Cathy and Dic – him most of all. The past was forgotten, here was where she belonged.
She began to hope that with only her landlords Connie and Geoff Tanner, and Stella Jones at the post office, knowing her background, she might begin to settle down and cope with her despair. Then she saw someone who was capable of ruining her newly found peace.
Dic Morris, the son of her father’s partner Jack, and her father’s accuser, was standing outside the post office when she closed for lunch on the Friday of her first week. Her heart gave a lurch of shock. Then with some defence mechanism creating a childish response, she wondered how she could ever have thought him good looking. With his ancient coat, muddy boots and his untidy hair he looked like a tramp, she thought, the unkind, silent appraisal a spurious comfort. She refused to notice his dark, expressive brown eyes, so serious and concerned, and the way his hair curled around his face, swept by a turbulent wind.
‘What are you doing here? What d’you want? Haven’t you done enough?’ she hissed, hoping to avoid anyone seeing her talking to him and remember him from the time of the trial. She wished he would turn and go away. How did he find her? What did he want, to taunt her with more reminders of her father’s dishonesty?
‘Lowri, how are you?’ he said calmly. ‘I wonder if we can have a word. Perhaps at the café?’
‘I’ve got nothing to say to you. Because of you my father’s in prison, charged with theft and suspected of murder. Or have you forgotten?’ She was still hissing, keeping her voice low, glancing around for fear of being overheard. She stared at him, eyes glaring, hiding her distress, then walked away. She had intended to go to the café for lunch but changed her mind at the sight of Dic. There was a bus due that would take her to the end of the lane and she would go home and make a sandwich, although at the sight of Dic Morris the thought of food made her choke. Aware of
him following, she began to run.
As the bus swung around the corner past Geoff Tanner’s shop, making its way towards her, she ran faster, waving her hand for it to stop. She was relieved to see no one at the bus stop, so she could jump on and with luck Dic would not find out where she lived. She sat and looked back to where he now stood, staring after the bus.
Dic went into the café and ordered tea and toast, then asked where the young lady from the post office lived. ‘I feel such an idiot,’ he said, smiling disarmingly. ‘I’m a friend of Lowri’s and I’ve lost her address.’ Pleased to be of help to the handsome man, the young waitress gave him the name of the house and exactly where to find it.
Lowri had set the corner of the kitchen table and made herself some toast, and stood debating what to spread on it, when there was a knock at the door.
‘Is that you, Kitty? Come on in, want a cup of tea?’ She was taking the toast from under the grill when the door opened. She looked up, a smile ready to greet her friend, and saw Dic.
‘Sorry, but I need to talk about the business and neither your mother nor my father is in a state to listen. Dad is still struggling to save the business and there are papers to sign, decisions to be made.’
‘Why ask me? I’m the daughter of an embezzler and murderer, not to be trusted, or have you forgotten?’
‘Lowri, I no longer believe your father stole from the business. All right, I admit that I shouted as loudly as anyone, I was so angry. I didn’t think any further than the evidence in front of me. Ellis Owen left books and letters that showed your father’s guilt. Ellis had set it out to imply that he was trying to catch your father, covering himself in case he were accused.’
‘You know my father. You should have trusted him.’
‘You’re right, we should have been looking for evidence instead of venting our anger on your father. Now I want to find the truth. I’ve spoken to the police and to your father’s solicitor but it’s clear they aren’t interested. So will you help me? Give me any papers you have? Jimmy spoke of diaries but some of these haven’t been found. Is there anywhere we can look for them?’
Despite trying to be cynical, hope clawed at her throat and she felt like a child being shown something wonderful that she could never have. All she said, was, ‘I don’t believe you. This is an attempt to make me hand over what’s left of the business to your father. While my father rots in prison! You think there’s some money hidden away somewhere and that’s what you want to find! Isn’t that the truth?’
Dic shook his head. ‘I will want to check your parent’s finances again if I can persuade your mother to let me. I’m sorry, but I have to do that even though the police investigated thoroughly, then I can be sure.’
‘So you do believe his guilt? That there’s money somewhere? While my mother lives in a grotty little flat and… Get out! I don’t know why you came, but it isn’t with any intention of helping my father!
She tried to push him towards the door, but he held firm and as she burst into tears, he put his arms around her and gently rested her head against his shoulder until the tears were spent. He handed her a handkerchief and she noisily blew her nose.
‘Now see what you’ve done! Made my face all blotchy and I’m going to be late for work. Besides,’ she added huffily, ‘you don’t smell very clean!’
‘I’ve been walking along the beach and into the mud, collecting wood from an ancient fishing boat that’s been immersed in the mud for years.
She was curious enough to ask why.
‘I make sculptures from the old sea-hardened wood. It’s something I enjoy doing and the customers like them too. I make fish mostly, it seems relevant. You must come and see them some time.
‘It’s all right for you. Your business is still sound. While my father…’
‘Yes, I know all about your father, you needn’t glory in it all like an amateur actress!’
‘How dare you!’
‘I dare, because I’m trying to do something to help and you’re just playing the gallery!’
‘Trying to help? How? It’s your evidence that put him in prison!’
‘Bills were unpaid, accounts emptied, borrowing had been arranged without my father or your father knowing. Lowri, I keep looking at the facts and I can’t put your father in the role of villain. There’s nothing new to go on, except my instinct, yet I believe that somewhere there has to be evidence to show he was innocent of stealing from the business.’
‘Too late, you were too convincing when he was in court. Remember?’
‘He and my father were so proud of what they’d built. I don’t believe he would have risked taking even a penny piece, let alone thousands of pounds. Without that charge of embezzlement, the rumour that he was guilty of murder doesn’t make any sense. He’ll have that hanging over him all his life if we don’t get the truth.’
‘Thank you.’ She spoke softly, staring at the flagstone floor. When she looked up, she saw he was reaching for the door. A sudden need to ask him to stay, a longing to be held a while longer, was repressed when the door opened and Marion walked in.
He nodded politely and walked to the door. Sadly, Lowri watched him go. He was an echo of her life before the trial and a link with happier times. ‘Will you come again?’ she called. ‘Bring the children. Please, Dic. They’d love it here.’
Walking back to her he said, ‘Thanks, I will. Sarah-Jane and little Katie often ask about you. But first you and I have to talk – without interruption. I want you to search in your memory for anything that didn’t come out at the trial. Anything, no matter how trivial, that might have some relevance.’
‘There are some notebooks, with ideas and sketches for future designs and colour schemes which he intended to discuss with Uncle – your father.’
‘Anything at all. And he’s still your Uncle Jack and my mother’s still Auntie Cathy.’
‘No! They’re not. They refused to speak to me.’
‘No doubt they’re ashamed of their gullibility, as I am. So when can we meet?’
‘I work all the week. Saturday evening? Or Sunday?’ she offered.
‘Saturday, my parents have the girls all day.’
*
On Saturday the post office closed at one o’clock and she hurried home after a brief visit to the shops to buy food for a simple lunch for two. Marion wouldn’t be there. She had gone home to see her parents, something she continued to do quite often. Saturday was her day off from the various cleaning jobs she had undertaken when she had joined Lowri in Badgers Brook. So whatever Dic had to say he could say it in confidence. She was aware of a candle-flame of hope, likely to be puffed out in moments, but she was comforted by the frail, temporary glimmer.
She set potatoes to boil and had water simmering ready for the vegetables, the sausages were already slowly cooking in a pan of onions. She knew this meal was one of Dic’s favourites. Before his wife Rosemary had become ill, she had been a frequent visitor to their home and had learned many things about him.
He smiled as she placed the meal before him. ‘How did you know this was my favourite?’ he asked as they began to eat at a small table set near the glowing fire.
‘Rosemary was a friend of mine, remember,’ she said. ‘You’d be surprised at how much I know about you.’
Dic had never been afraid of talking about his wife. He had told Lowri soon after Rosemary had died of influenza, that to avoid talking about her was like pretending she had never existed. And besides, he wanted the girls to have constant reminders about their mother as their memories of her were almost non-existent. They had been very small when they had lost her. Two years ago when their mother had passed away, Sarah-Jane had been three and little Katie, not quite one year old.
It wasn’t until after they had cleared the dishes and were settled into armchairs either side of the fire that he began to explain his reason for coming. ‘My father was shocked but convinced by the evidence presented by the police, and was furious that he had been
let down by the man who had been his friend as well as his partner,’ he began. ‘Now he has calmed down and time has passed, he’s thinking about things more clearly and he agrees with me that the whole thing is completely unbelievable. Ellis Owen was the weak link, not your father. It must have been Ellis Owen who robbed them.
‘Our parents had given up their homes and most of their savings to start the business and had taken Ellis on as they needed an accountant. He was experienced but unqualified, and starting off, they just couldn’t afford the wages of a professional man, so they employed Ellis. He drew a wage, and appeared to live quite comfortably with none of the worries that owning a business brought.’
‘Talk! Nothing but talk!’ Lowri interrupted sharply. ‘We can all talk, tell ourselves it can’t be true, that my father is an honest and non-violent man, but where does that get us? A surge of optimism, sleepless nights dreaming of a happy ending and little besides! Thanks Dic, but I can really do without this!’ She stood up and stepped back, dismissing him.
He didn’t move. ‘I haven’t finished. At least let me finish.’
‘Go on.’ She sighed, her words sounding bored. She wanted him to finish and then leave her to go back to her defeatist acceptance.
‘Ellis’s wife Terri is moving away. Is that because it will be easier for her to spend money she isn’t supposed to have, in an area where no one knows her?’
‘Why did you come,’ she said despairingly. ‘Telling me you believe Dad couldn’t steal or harm someone isn’t going to change anything. There must be quite a few out there who will tell me that, but what we need is evidence and with Ellis Owen dead that can’t happen.’
False Friends Page 3
