False Friends

by False Friends (retail) (epub)

  Lowri smiled. ‘You’re so wise, Mam. Knowing there’s a home waiting for him will help him through the time. Imagine, we could soon all be together again.’

  ‘It won’t be long now,’ Emily said. ‘The money is bound to come to light and he’ll be freed.’

  Aware of the importance for her mother of believing that, Lowri agreed and offered to go with her on the following day to see what properties were for sale.

  As they looked at a neat cottage on the edge of the town, she told her mother that Dic was a regular visitor to Badgers Brook, and saw a wince of pain on her face. ‘He wasn’t responsible, even though we thought so at the time,’ she went on. ‘Dad asked him to search for evidence and, well, Ellis Owen was too clever for him – not that it did him much good.’

  ‘I can never forgive Dic, or Cathy and Jack,’ Emily replied. ‘Jack was your father’s partner. They had worked side by side as they built the business, yet he and Dic didn’t doubt that your father was guilty. Not for a moment.’

  *

  While Lowri and Emily were looking at the few properties for sale, back in Badgers Brook, Marion awoke and turned to the man lying beside her. ‘You’d better stay here and I’ll bring breakfast up. In fact,’ she added with a smile, ‘what about lighting the bedroom fire and making a day of it? If anyone calls I can go down and pretend to have a cold.’

  He laughingly agreed and together they set the coals alight and, after eating toast and drinking tea, they settled back under the blankets. They spent the morning lazily and, hoping no one would disturb them, they went down to eat, and listen to the wireless for a while, then went back up to the warm, cosy bedroom. Drowsy and comfortable, they closed their eyes. Lowri wouldn’t be back till late.

  When Lowri returned home, the house was empty. The fire was low but was soon revived, and there was a tray set, a loaf ready to slice, and a pot of something tasty simmering on the hob. She was hungry and cold after her journey and ate two bowls of the hambone flavoured lentil soup before wondering where Marion might be. Probably visiting her family, or even working. Her hours were irregular, cleaning to suit herself as well as her clients, sometimes during the evenings, and she could be anywhere. Lowri settled near the fire to think about her visit to her mother. Silence wrapped around her like a comfortable blanket.

  She had been in an hour when she heard a noise from upstairs and called. There was no reply and with memories of the thief breaking in so recently, she picked up a poker and began to climb the stairs. She pushed open the door of her bedroom, which was just as she’d left it. In Marion’s room, the bed was unmade and both pillows were dented as though two people had recently used it. She backed out on to the landing, shock making her clumsy and she knocked against the banisters putting out the torch she carried. She scrabbled around the dark landing until her fingers found it and continued her search, more nervous after the temporary darkness. She pushed open the other doors but fear and the feeling of vulnerability between her shoulder blades made her eyes refuse to take in anything. She looked but saw nothing, her nerves were so taut.

  The house was empty, but as she stood irresolutely at the top of the stairs, she felt a draught and realized that her window was wide open. Why hadn’t she noticed before? A draught must have caused the noise she’d heard. Irritable with herself, she slammed the window and fastened the latch and went back downstairs. The back door stood open and she gripped the poker more firmly. Then Marion came in, and tension fell from her like a warm shower. She felt a bit foolish having chased an imaginary burglar around the house, so she said nothing.

  ‘You’re back!’ Marion said in surprise.

  Jokingly, Lowri looked down at herself and said, ‘Well, so I am!’

  They hugged and began to question each other about their weekend apart. ‘Ken called, having forgotten you were away,’ Marion said. ‘I came back from a walk on Saturday and he was sitting in the armchair, reading your copy of Three Men in a Boat, and laughing loudly. Quite at home here, isn’t he?’

  ‘Strange, I did tell him I’d be away. And tell me,’ she asked with a suspicious grin, ‘who else came calling? D’you have a secret lover?’

  To her surprise, Marion nodded. ‘Yes. I do and you might as well know that the reason he’s secret is because he’s married. There, so now you know.’

  Shocked, vividly remembering the visual evidence on Marion’s bed, but determined not to show it, Lowri hugged her and said, ‘It’s none of my business, and I can only wish you luck. I hope it works out for you.’

  ‘Oh it will. We have to be patient a while longer, that’s all.’

  Lowri lay awake for a long time but she wasn’t thinking about the complications of Marion’s life, or even her parents, but about Ken. Why had he called when he must have remembered she’d be away? Surely it hadn’t been him who had left the telltale indentation on Marion’s pillow? For no particular reason she could have explained, she relit her candle and looked around her neat room for signs of something being moved. There was a piece of red material caught in the wardrobe door and, puzzled and a little afraid, she opened the door. The clothes on the rail were neat enough, but some of the sleeves, which she always tucked in folded against the garment, were hanging loose. A red jacket was marked with a slight indentation having been shut in the door.

  The key? she wondered anxiously. Was someone looking for that key? Could that someone be Ken Hardy? She took it from her handbag and stared at it, pleading with it to give up its secret.

  *

  On the following Wednesday afternoon, she took an order for a few items from Stella and went to the warehouse to see Ken. When she suggested they went to a cafe he agreed, and they sat in a tea room and he ordered scones and tea. She tried to talk about her visit to her mother and what she had learned about her father, but he was clearly uninterested.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said finally. ‘I know how boring this must be for you. Tell me about your weekend. You called at Badgers Brook. Did you forget I wouldn’t be there?’

  ‘I did remember you’d be away, but I called anyway. There’s usually someone around. I had a chat with Bob, who was tidying the greenhouse. Did you know he’s an ex-policeman? I waited a while, had a cup of tea with Marion, then came home.’

  ‘Mam is leaving the flat. She’s hoping to move into a small house and take lodgers; so she has a place ready for when Dad’s released. She still believes that evidence will come to light and—’

  ‘Lowri, I don’t want to talk about your father. He’s in prison for…’ He avoided saying the word. ‘And well, that fact keeps coming between us.’

  ‘You mean you’re like the rest? That his presumed guilt has brushed off on me? I’m no longer Lowri Vaughan, I’m the daughter of a thief and maybe a murderer too? Is that how it is, Ken?’

  He hushed her with a flapping hand. ‘Quiet, you’ll have the cafe in uproar.’

  She jumped up, throwing Stella’s list of requirements in front of him and walked out. A bus was just leaving the stop and she waved frantically and the driver stopped for her to get on. She hurriedly paid her fare then, without really considering it, changed her mind, jumped off at the next stop and made her way to Barry.

  Although it was Wednesday and Dic might not be at the shop, she knocked on the shop window and saw the inner door open. He recognized her and opened up and saw at once that she was upset as he ushered her inside.

  ‘Ken’s just another false friend. He doesn’t see me any more,’ she said, ‘he sees a woman who has the blood of a murderer running through her veins.’

  ‘I think you have to give him some time,’ Dic said, taking her coat and pushing the armchair closer to the fire. ‘He feels it more because you didn’t tell him.’

  ‘I hadn’t known him long enough for such confidences.’

  ‘It must have been a terrible shock, however he learned of it.’

  ‘But I’m still me!’

  ‘Remember that you and I have lived through it step by painful step.�
��

  ‘Yes, we lived through it but on opposite sides!’ She stood up and pushed him away. He caught hold of her shoulders and pulled her towards him. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing here.’ she shouted. ‘Let me go!’

  ‘Just calm down, Lowri, you’ve been hurt time and again, and even though I was involved with your father’s arrest, I’m your friend and always will be.’

  After a while she stopped resisting and stood quietly as he held her in his arms. ‘You smell of mud again,’ she muttered into his shoulder, which shook with his laughter.

  ‘It’s this jacket. I’m just off to the boatyard to see if Jake has any pieces of wood I can use.’

  As they drove the few miles to where Jake Llewellyn had his boat repair yard, he told her that Ellis Owen had asked his wife for a divorce just before he died. ‘I don’t think the police were told, at least, it didn’t come out at the trial. But it might have been the reason for him stealing money, to give him a fresh start. I don’t believe his wife has knowledge of the missing money. What d’you think?’

  ‘When did you find out?’

  ‘A few days ago.’

  ‘And you said nothing.’

  ‘I wanted to, but not with other people around. Ken, Marion and half of Cwm Derw always seem to be at your house, there’s never a chance of a private conversation.’

  ‘You won’t have to worry any more. Ken won’t be coming again.’

  ‘More fool him,’ he said softly.

  She pressed a little closer to him. Somehow it made the disappointment easier to bear.

  Jake greeted Dic by calling, ‘Oh, here he is, Dic Morris on the scrounge again!’ He smiled and offered his hand. ‘Lowri Vaughan if I’m not mistaken. How’s your dad coping?’

  It was a relief to talk about her father without facing disapproval. Jake had known her father and Dic’s father since they were children at school. On the rare occasions Lowri had gone to the boatyard, she had been treated like a little princess. She spoke to him about her mother’s plans while Dic walked around searching for old wood from which he could sculpt figures, boats and animals.

  ‘Where’s the big fellow?’ Dic asked.

  ‘He’s taken the trailer to pick up a boat from Swansea,’ Jake explained. ‘Good chap he is, I wish he’d stay, but I don’t thing he will. He’s just licking his wounds after some business venture failed. He doesn’t want to talk about it so I don’t ask questions.’

  The afternoon ended by Lowri walking to the school to meet Sarah-Jane but Dic couldn’t take her to his parents’ home where he would collect Katie; he didn’t want her upset by his father’s attitude. Instead, she caught the bus for the first stage of her journey back to Cwm Derw. The day had been enjoyable and she was feeling contented as she walked into Badgers Brook. Ken was sitting there, continuing to read Three Men in a Boat and he looked up and smiled as she discarded her coat.

  ‘Why don’t you borrow it and save having to come here to read it?’ she said.

  ‘I’ve brought a picnic, Connie’s the expert, she advised me and lent me her vacuum flasks so we can take hot coffee.’ The non-sequitur threw her momentarily.

  ‘What’s a picnic to do with that book?’

  ‘What are you taking your coat off for, we’re going out!’

  ‘It’ll be dark soon!’

  Carrying a woven basket that she recognized as Connie’s, he led her towards the wood. Anemones and bluebells covered the floor under the trees and although it was early spring, the trees were already showing their greenery. He threw a Welsh tapestry rug over a mound where they could rest their backs against the trunk of a tree and they sat, and ate and talked about everything except her father.

  ‘See how easy it is?’ he said as they wandered back to the house slowly, his arm around her, kissing her hair and then her cheek before discarding the baggage and taking her into his arms. ‘You and me, together, no one else intruding, that’s just perfect.’

  That night she woke anxiously from a dream in which she was walking away from her father who was locked in a cage for which she had the key. Towards dawn, she dreamed she was kissing Ken, and she was wonderfully happy, until she saw Dic watching them. She awoke restless and with painful feelings of guilt.

  *

  ‘When am I going to meet your mysterious friend?’ Lowri asked the next morning as Marion was setting off to work.

  ‘Not for a while. We can’t be seen together, not until the divorce comes through,’ Marion explained. ‘He doesn’t want me to be cited as co-respondent. Shaming that would be.’

  ‘Then where do you meet?’

  ‘We don’t see each other very often, but we sometimes manage an hour, in some isolated place, a cafe or a park, somewhere far away from his wife. It’s quite exciting really.’

  Lowri gave a sideways grin. ‘So you wouldn’t mind if I went away again for the weekend?’

  Marion blushed slightly. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Now I have to go, this Mr Morgan leaves a long list of jobs for me and I have to make an early start. Fussy beyond he is, but he pays me well.’

  Lowri was thinking of Marion and the tangle she had become involved in and wondered if she would ever find a love of her own. For a while she had believed Ken might be the one, but as with so many other friendships, what had happened to her father had intruded and although the Connie-style picnic in the wood had been wonderful, there was still a doubt that she and Ken would stay together.

  She called out, ‘Good morning,’ to Stella and unlocked the shop door, flicking the sign from ‘closed’ to ‘open’ as three impatient customers walked in. She began serving, her mind efficiently dealing with the variety of services but still wondering about Marion.

  Customers came and went, packing the small shop, then drifting off to allow her a breather, before another rush of people crowded in, arguing about who was next, filling the place with their chatter and laughter. When Stella came in with her first cup of tea, Lowri was tidying a shelf on which they displayed socks and stockings.

  ‘You manage this place well, young Lowri,’ Stella said, opening a tin of biscuits.

  ‘Thanks. I love it. When I worked for Mrs Potter, we only sold things like envelopes and wrapping paper. It’s more interesting with the added stock you carry.’

  ‘Think you could manage on your own?’

  ‘On my own?’ She stared at her employer, afraid she was ill. Thinking quickly to avoid suggesting it, she asked, ‘Planning a holiday are you? Lovely that’ll be. Of course I could manage.’

  ‘A holiday? Can you imagine my Colin leaving his allotment for more than a day? No, dear, I just want an occasional day out. Me and Gwennie Flint, we’d like to go off early one Monday and go and look at Barry Island beach, or perhaps take a trip into Cardiff.’

  ‘You aren’t thinking of retiring, are you?’

  ‘No, I’d miss it too much to think of giving up. I thought paying you a bigger wage to take on more of the routine and me doing just a bit less than at present. I’ll be helping out at busy times and I’ll be handy if you need a holiday, or a honeymoon,’ she added with a tilt of her head, a twinkle in her beady eyes.

  ‘No chance of that,’ she said, but her mind wasn’t on what she was saying. She was imagining running the place, being a permanent part of Cwm Derw. It felt good and she smiled at Stella, who still stood with her head on one side, waiting for her response.

  ‘I’d love to do more…’ she said slowly.

  ‘But…?’ Stella encouraged.

  ‘But I was going to ask if I might have a few days off, and that isn’t a very good start, is it? It’s my mother. She’s moving out of the flat she took when my father began his sentence. We had so little time to get out and we threw a lot of stuff unexamined into boxes. We need to go through it all, take our time, and discard the things we don’t need.’

  ‘What about if you take a week, then come back and start learning about keeping the books?’

  Lowri looked at Stella with real affection. �
��You’re so kind,’ she murmured. ‘I just hope I don’t let you down.’

  ‘Never no chance of that, girl. Now, isn’t it time for a cup of tea? This one’s gone cold.’

  Lowri wrote to her mother that evening and told her about Stella’s suggestion. She arranged to go to the flat and search through the piles of papers and mementoes that had been crammed willy-nilly into an assortment of boxes when they had left their home. As soon as her mother had found a suitable place, she would take the week Stella had promised and help her move in. Much of their furniture was in store and sorting that out as well as buying the extra beds she would need, would be quite a task. A week was a long time to be away from Badgers Brook, although she didn’t think Marion would complain.

  When the house was chosen it was only a matter of a few weeks before Emily was given the key to fourteen Hanley Place. At the end of April, Lowri went to join her mother carrying an extra, empty suitcase, knowing there would be her own memories to bring back. The feeling of being a resident of Cwm Derw, building her own home, was comforting. She gave the address to Marion and to Stella but she was surprised to receive a letter just a day after she had arrived. It was from Dic, just a short note offering to drive up and bring her home as she would probably have quite a lot to carry. Flattered by his thoughtfulness, she pushed it into her pocket and said nothing to her mother. Emily had made her feelings about Dic, Jack and Cathy Morris very clear.

  When she went out later to post some letters and arrange for her mother’s food rations to be registered in a nearby grocery store, she telephoned Dic. Aware of the pile of treasures she had already chosen to keep, and knowing that among her father’s books there would be many she would want, she accepted his offer gladly. Just before he arrived, that would be soon enough for her mother to know he was coming. The furniture had been placed in the rooms, the cleaning completed and a list of what they needed to buy had been made, ready for their foray into town. There remained only the boxes of papers and her father’s favourite books. These had been pushed into the smallest bedroom and were something neither woman wanted to tackle.