False Friends

by False Friends (retail) (epub)

  ‘Unless his widow starts to spend large amounts of money. It must be hard to have so much and not spend it. She’s bound to give in to the temptation some time. She could buy a nice little house and live comfortably. Easy to give up the small flat where she and Ellis lived. She works in a cafe, doesn’t she? How long will she go on doing that with all that money in her possession? The police would be sure to investigate if she revealed owning such an amount.’

  ‘Would they bother? With my father in prison the case must be closed.’

  ‘Not if we can offer new evidence. Don’t give up hope, Lowri. If he’s innocent, and I believe he is, then we mustn’t give up. Think. Think about everything that went on during the weeks leading up to Ellis Owen’s death. Somewhere there has to be some tiny indication of Ellis’s guilt.’

  She showed him the box of papers belonging to her father that she had brought with her and he patiently went through every one several times. ‘Can I take these with me?’ he asked.

  Lowri shrugged, then she said sharply, ‘I want them back, mind. They belong to my father and he must have saved them for a reason.’

  ‘I promise, and no one will look at them except Dad and me.’

  She was calm after he left. She sat near the fire, frowning as she worried her memory into giving up its secrets and offering a spark of hope. Darkness fell and she still didn’t move until she heard the door open and guessed that Marion was home. She stood and greeted her friend then went into the kitchen to start preparing their meal.

  Later that evening, after hearing the stories about Marion’s visit to her large lively family, she told her about Dic’s comments. Marion’s reaction was familiar.

  ‘Rubbish, Lowri! Forget it. Your father hasn’t the smallest chance of a reprieve. Best you accept that and stop exhausting yourself with false hope.’

  ‘But what if he’s right and there is evidence out there? I’m trying to re-live those last weeks, wondering whether I have a snippet of information that would lead us to proving his innocence.’

  ‘Rubbish and nonsense. You know that as well as I do. Coming here, encouraging you to hope, saying your father’s incapable of what he’s accused of, he’s being so cruel. We know that! Proving it in a court of law is something different. This Dic Morris is a false friend if he comes here and upsets you with nonsense like this. Tell him to stay away.’

  ‘He’s coming tomorrow and bringing his two little girls.’

  ‘Then I’ll make sure I’m here so he doesn’t get you in a state again.’

  Despite trying to accept Marion’s advice about ignoring Dic’s fragile hope, she dreamed that night of being reunited with her parents and woke happy, until the truth dawned and left her dejected.

  Sunday was a quiet day, the weather was cold but crisp and clear and once Dic’s daughters had explored the house and the garden, they went for a walk through the fields and woods, watching a flock of fieldfare feeding on one of the fields, and listening to the calming sound of the brook murmuring through the woodland near Badgers Brook.

  They pointed out the track made by the badgers and where birds had nested and Lowri told them stories about the inhabitants of the wood and the fields around. They lifted Sarah-Jane and Katie over difficult places and Dic’s hand was always there when she needed help. She found the touch of his hand comforting, and the way his shoulder was there when they sat to rest. A link with the happy past and something more. The children’s enjoyment of each new discovery added to her own and the whole visit was an oasis of calm in troublesome times.

  *

  Monday morning was not usually a busy day at the post office but on that day there was already a queue formed when Lowri let herself in by the side door.

  ‘What’s happening? It’s like Christmas already,’ she said as she removed her coat and gloves.

  ‘You might as well face it, Lowri, the rumours have started and they’re here to see you and hopefully find out a bit about what happened to your father. Don’t worry, I’ll sit in the shop and shout them down if necessary. You just carry on serving and leave the gossips to me.’

  ‘You don’t want me to leave? What if they refuse to let me serve them?’

  ‘Maes Hir is the next place where they can find a post office as well stocked as mine. They get most of their needs here with me, not just their stamps and pensions and stationery, but their sewing and knitting needs as well as dozens of small items I stock to oblige them. And they won’t like travelling all that way for a postal order for their football pools, will they? No, ignore anything they say and leave them to me. Right?’

  The hours passed slowly as she forced a smile and replied casually to the barrage of questions. Innuendo was slapped down swiftly by a fierce Stella. Lowri went to the cafe at one o’clock hoping there wouldn’t be a continuation of the whispered comments she’d suffered all morning. To her relief she saw Marion there, smiling widely.

  ‘Finished early I did, thought I’d join you in case the natives were unfriendly.’

  ‘I hope today will be the last of it. By half past five I don’t think there’ll be a customer who hasn’t been in. It’s been non-stop since we opened at nine and I’m exhausted!’

  ‘Hard, was it?’

  ‘Stella was marvellous. And Kitty and Bob Jennings came, made a cup of tea for us and managed to hush some of the worst of them. Stella’s threat of refusing their custom cured others, so I think it will die down by tomorrow.’

  But there was worse to come. To her amazement, Terri Owen, the widow of Ellis came in and stared at her as though seeing a ghost. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. Then she turned to Stella. ‘Do you know who she is?’

  Stella gripped her stick and rose out of her chair. ‘Lowri her name is, best assistant I’ve had this ages. Why?’

  ‘Her father killed my husband, even though the police can’t prove it! In prison he is, for embezzlement.’

  ‘Yes, I know all about him being in prison. Lowri isn’t the sort to be deceitful. The rest is slanderous, so just you be careful!’

  There were a few more exchanges during which Mrs Owen warned, ‘Like father like daughter, mind.’

  Stella calmly agreed. ‘That’s right, innocent, the pair of them.’

  Unbelievably, by the time the woman left, Lowri was laughing. ‘Stella, you are amazing.’ She went home more relaxed than since before the trouble had begun.

  There was a note from Marion telling her she was bringing home fish and chips for supper and to put the plates to warm. It was so ordinary that it put the alarms of the day aside. With only two weeks before Christmas, the post office was too busy to worry about who served who, their needs were more important than attitude and if a few more than usual ostentatiously checked their change, Lowri pretended not to notice.

  *

  Dic came to Badgers Brook again on Sunday 16th December with his daughters. Marion had tried to persuade Lowri to cancel his visit, warning her of the misery he could revive by building impossible dreams. Lowri ignored the advice and instead decorated the house with as much Christmas cheer as possible, buying a tree from Peter Bevan, the greengrocer, who delivered it and helped them to set it up in a corner of the living room, from where its lights would shine out towards the garden. His wife Hope, who had once been a tenant of Badgers Brook, had sent a few handmade angels to hang from its branches and a fairy to sit on the top. Knowing there were children visiting, two little girls who had lost their mother, Hope had opened her heart to them and willingly added to what Lowri and Marion were preparing.

  Dic arrived with the excited girls and with arms filled with parcels, which he added to the growing pile under the tree. Kitty and Bob arrived with a few records for Marion’s wind-up gramophone and the mood was set for a party.

  They had eaten and cleared away and were starting to play traditional games, Lowri carrying Katie when the going was too fast and laughter filled the air. It wasn’t until the third knock that they heard someone at the door. Marion we
nt to answer it and saw two policemen standing there.

  The mood immediately changed. Dic pulled his daughters on to his lap, leaving Lowri and Marion to take the officers into the kitchen.

  ‘Miss Lowri Vaughan?’ one of them asked. Lowri could only nod, her breath was tight as she feared more trouble. ‘Daughter of Mr James Vaughan, presently serving a sentence for fraud?’

  ‘For goodness’ sake tell me what’s happened!’ she shouted.

  ‘It’s your father, I’m afraid he’s…’

  For a moment Lowri imagined they were about to tell her he was dead, their faces were so solemn. ‘Your father has escaped from prison.’

  The words went on, reminding her that she was bound by law to inform the police if she knew where he was, or where he was likely to be hiding, but the words didn’t really reach her brain. Expecting worse, far worse, she felt only relief. Once she’d recovered, she mentioned a few places where he had been before, the holiday cottage owned by an aunt, where they had spent many summer days. Another place near Merthyr Mawr where they had spent a happy holiday, but these were unlikely guesses, or she wouldn’t have mentioned them. No, there was only one place her father would make for and that this house. He had escaped just to see her as he refused to allow her to see him in prison.

  There was one other place he might use as a hiding place, an ancient, half ruined building once used by shepherds and walkers high on the cliffs above a Gower bay. She knew he would be there but she dared not go and see him. The police were certain to be watching her. But just knowing he was free and not far away made her heart sing.

  The following morning, Lowri and Marion were aware of an increase in police presence, but they didn’t worry too much. Surely her father would avoid places where they might expect him to be?

  ‘Will you be all right if I go home for a day later this week,’ Marion asked that afternoon. ‘Mam’s so busy with Christmas to prepare and all the kids getting excited, I want to give a bit of a hand.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind. I don’t feel at all uneasy being on my own here. Stay the night if you need to.’

  ‘Heaven help! I couldn’t stand that! Why d’you think I came here with you? Like my own bed, I do, and they’re three deep in some of them at the moment. With his kids and her kids and their kids, it’s chaos.’ She explained to the police where she was going and when she would return and Lowri settled down in the quiet house and listened fearfully for shouts and activity that would indicate the rearrest of her father.

  *

  Marion went into the noisy house where her mother lived with her second husband and their combined children. Eight children, whose ages ranged from two up to eighteen were hard to control and Harriet didn’t try. She had become immune to crying and shut her mind when one or another began to wail. It was the job of the older ones to look after the younger ones. She concentrated on keeping them clean and feeding them. Apart from washing day when she spent the hours sweating over a wash tub and a gas boiler, her long black hair tangled as she pushed it aside, her face red and moist, most of Harriet’s day was spent in the kitchen preparing food. A part of every day involved shopping.

  Marion was welcomed with relief when she walked in on that Friday morning. Her mother was sitting in the middle of the living room floor surrounded with paper, string and a few sparkling tree ornaments. A fir tree leant against the wall in a corner beside a bucket of cinders.

  ‘There’s a treat to see you, Marion, love.’ Harriet gave a huge sigh of relief. ‘Desperate busy I am. Go and sort the dishes from the table, will you? I haven’t managed to wash up after breakfast yet. I’m determined to get a tree decorated before the kids get in from school. They’ll love the surprise.’

  ‘Just as well I brought these then,’ Marion said, unpacking a shopping bag filled with newspaper-wrapped tree ornaments. Tarnished but unbroken, they would fill the bare branches and delight the younger members of Harriet’s brood. ‘Mrs Jones from the post office said she won’t need them all.’

  Ignoring the table still spread with the remnants of a meal, they worked together to fill the tree with the glittering items.

  By lunchtime, order had been restored and after sitting down to a small meal of fried potatoes left from the previous day, Marion said, ‘Mind if I go for a walk, Mam?’

  ‘Yes, you go, love, and thank you. Worked hard you have and I’m grateful.’

  Marion smiled. Her mother never failed to thank her for the help she gave. ‘It’s no wonder I’m earning my keep by cleaning,’ she said, ‘I’ve had plenty of training from you. Fast and furious you are and I think you’re amazing.’ She left the now orderly house and set off up the hill from where she could glimpse the distant sea.

  Approaching the summit she looked towards the small overhang of rock under which sheep often sheltered and saw a tall figure standing there. He stepped forward and waved and she began to run towards him. Their arrangements were difficult to make but she usually managed to meet him whenever he left a message for her. Secretly of course, with him being married, but guilt didn’t affect her joy when they were together. It was only at night, when she was alone, that she thought of his wife and knew what she was doing was wrong. Doubly wrong if she were honest.

  *

  On Christmas Eve they were told Jimmy had been recaptured. He had been found on the cliffs above the place where he and Dic’s father had often fished for sea bass. Lowri noted that he had not been far from that ancient hut the men had used to store their equipment. Was there something hidden there, that he had been hoping to find? She didn’t mention this to Dic, in spite of a growing need of him, she was not quite sure where his loyalties lay. Was he really trying to help her father, or was the return of the money his prime motivation?

  So, Christmas was a subdued affair, thinking of her father locked up after his attempt to be free and wondering what he had hoped to achieve. Dic came on Boxing Day with the girls as they had arranged, and Marion cancelled her plan to stay with her family until the following weekend and came back on Boxing Day morning so she would be there when he came.

  ‘To ward off any more of his false imaginings,’ she told Lowri, who thanked her, even though she didn’t quite know why.

  True to Marion’s expectations, Dic swore his determination was even greater. ‘Jimmy risked having his sentence extended by getting out like that. He must have had a good reason. He wouldn’t do it just to see your mother, much as he loves her, or you. I believe he was searching for evidence, so somewhere it must exist. Perhaps Mrs Owen knows something and he was hoping to persuade her to talk?’

  Lowri couldn’t help being encouraged. Marion seemed less than pleased.

  True to form, as news filtered through of Jimmy’s rearrest, Badgers Brook filled up with well-wishers. Betty Connors came and she brought Gwennie Flint from the chip shop. Stella came in laughing, having been pushed on Colin’s bike to save her leg from the strain of walking, Kitty and Bob, Geoff and Connie, the room was filled with talk and laughter.

  Gwennie’s husband had dragged himself out of an armchair to ask when Gwennie was coming home to get his supper. Lowri noticed a look pass between Betty and Gwennie, who replied, ‘When I’m ready, Maldwyn. There was food if you roused yourself to get it, so now you can wait.’

  So much for the Christmas spirit in their house, Lowri thought with a smile.

  ‘Gwennie’s Maldwyn is a work-shy lazy man and today, Gwennie is starting her New Year’s resolution a bit early,’ Betty explained.

  Small gifts were found for the children, who were delighted with their new aunties and uncles, and it was midnight before the last visitor had gone. Gwennie amusingly was one of the last to leave, but Maldwyn had eaten and drank so he was no longer complaining about his lack of attention.

  Marion made their usual cocoa and despite all the treats they had consumed, made toast and ate as though she hadn’t fed for a week.

  ‘It’s Christmas,’ she excused. ‘We’ve been so busy entertain
ing I don’t think I’ve eaten since breakfast!’

  Lowri didn’t argue. Tomorrow she faced a day at the post office, so why not make the most of the last few hours of the holiday? With a deprecating grin, she sliced more bread and settled beside the fire to toast it. She was smiling as they put the dishes into the bowl of hot soapy water, aware of the contentment of being surrounded by good friends.

  ‘This house is special, isn’t it?’ she mused.

  Picking up her night dress from where it had been warming near the embers of the fire, Marion sleepily nodded and both carrying lighted candles, they went up the stairs.

  Three

  Lowri had started to wonder what she would do once Stella Jones was well enough to return to her duties at the post office. Although the leg was still painful and she was restricted in what she could do, Stella was spending more and more time in the shop, checking stock, cleaning, re-ordering and at the same time, coming to help Lowri when a queue formed.

  The run up to Christmas had brought a rush of customers, when everyone in the area seemed to be either waiting in the never-ending queue, or standing chatting outside the shop; Lowri had been too busy to think about future plans. Even now, with Christmas Day behind them the customers were still there in droves. Sending belated parcels, writing thank you letters, arranging get-togethers for New Year.

  ‘We never see daylight during the weeks around Christmas,’ Stella had told her as she lit another overhead light to brighten the gloomy day. ‘The windows don’t let in even the little bit of sun we do have. We cram them full of extra things for sale, blocking the light, then there’s the customers leaning against them to gossip. It’s like being in a cave!’

  Lowri looked at the women outside the shop in thick coats and hats and waving umbrellas to emphasize a point, leaning against the small amount of glass still clear of gifts on offer. They were noisy, they kept Lowri and Stella frantically busy and sometimes they were argumentative about whose turn was next, but Lowri loved it. The occasional disagreements were without aggression, quickly forgotten and were often amusing, adding to the enjoyment of every day.