‘No, it’s fine, come in. In fact I’ll be glad of your help.’
He walked into the living room and wondered what was going on. Most of her possessions were set out on tables and chairs so it looked like a bazaar. Everything from bales of bedding and household linen, to cutlery tied into bundles, ornaments and china, glassware and kitchen items. ‘What’s going on? Is this an unseasonal spring clean?’ he joked.
‘I’m selling everything,’ she told him.
‘But, won’t you want these things? It’ll cost a fortune to start all over again, unless these are all spares?’
‘After the way Ellis behaved I can’t bear to see them. I’ve bought new bedding and everything,’ she sobbed, and turned away to recover. ‘Harold, he was leaving me, abandoning me like an unwanted shirt. Something he’d outgrown.’
‘I’m sorry, but I think you need to think about this.’
‘I have. The neighbours and friends are coming this afternoon to see if there’s anything they want.’
‘You’ve found a flat, then?’
‘Sort of. It’s vacant and for rent. I’ll move in and later on I’ll buy something more permanent, when I know where I want to live.’
‘Here might be the best,’ he said. ‘Where your friends are, where you’re comfortable. Don’t let Ellis drive you away.’
‘Friendships are frail, you ask poor Lowri about that. My so-called loyal friends thought it a joke that I was being abandoned, secure in their own families, certain it would never happen to them, convinced that I must be to blame.’
He saw a label on the armchairs and asked, ‘You aren’t selling the furniture too?’
‘Everything. I don’t want a single thing left to remind me of my loving husband.’ She cried then, unable to hold back the tears any longer and he sat near her soothing her with words of comfort, persuading her to look to the future and let the past go. There was nothing else he could say. He could hardly tell her about Lowri and Alun’s belief that Ellis was alive and hadn’t come back to her. How could she cope with that added insult? He made a cup of tea and sat with her while she drank it, then he left.
Whether or not Ellis had survived that storm all those months ago, it was clear that Terri knew nothing about it. He decided to go back during the afternoon and keep an eye on her while her goods were sold. She was certain to be upset. Leaving the past behind sounded easy, but in her circumstances, the pain would be hard for her to bear.
*
Lowri was restless, aware of the emptiness of her hours after leaving the post office each evening. Seeing Marion again had reminded her of how much she missed having her around. If only she hadn’t tried to pry. Marion’s secrecy was odd, but everyone has some part of themselves they’re unwilling to share. For Marion this was greater than most, but in other ways she had been a perfect companion.
She wanted to find out if she was all right. The ankle must have been painful for her to knock on the door of Badgers Brook and ask her for help. And the wounds where she had fallen off a bike, or – more likely scraped herself on rocks needed medical attention if they weren’t to leave scars. Was this a good enough reason to call at her parents’ house and enquire? Or would that make things worse between them? She thought the latter.
The problem of the house feeling empty was easily solved; she would invite a few friends for Sunday lunch. About fifteen, she mused, plus, as always, a few who ‘just happened to call’. She knew she could rely on most of them bringing something to swell the feast, and it should be warm enough to eat outside. That always made it special. She was able to put aside her thoughts about her father and Ellis Owen, and Marion’s strange behaviour, and concentrate on making sure she would have sufficient food and drink.
When she had taken the tenancy of Badgers Brook she had been amused at the number of chairs that were there. She soon realized that the reason was because the house enticed visitors in an almost magical way, with people arriving unannounced and creating a party-like atmosphere that left good memories for everyone who came. The house was always welcoming and always warm and needed the chairs to accommodate the guests.
*
Alun Harris went to The Ship and Compass that lunchtime an ordered a pint at the bar. ‘Hey, you’re the man who helped me when I fell, aren’t you?’ Betty exclaimed. Alun smiled, his pink mouth showing through the new neatly trimmed beard. ‘Oh, so you recognize me today, do you?’
‘What d’you mean, you haven’t been in here before, have you?’
He nodded. ‘Very busy you were with a young man supposedly helping, but leaning on the bar as though he didn’t have the strength to stand without its support.’
‘Oh, that would have been Ernie or Roger. Useless, the pair of them. He’s late again. Typical!’
Alun sipped his beer, talking to Betty whenever she was free, helping with the glasses when they piled up. ‘Where’s that barman? He’s very late, if he’s coming.’ He looked around the room as he put the glasses he’d collected on to the bar.
Betty shrugged. ‘No sign of him and no word either, lazy man that he is. I’ve got a coach party coming tomorrow and I’ve promised them lunch. Only sandwiches and pasties, but if he doesn’t appear I’ll have difficulty coping.’ She shrugged. ‘But there, I’ve managed this place on my own since my brother Ed married Elsie Clements and I dare say I’ll cope with tomorrow.’
‘I can help, if you’ll allow me,’ Alun offered. ‘I know the trade, although from a different angle. I owned a restaurant, and drinks were a part of my daily routine. More wines and spirits than beer, but I do know how to pull a pint without producing a glass of foam.’
‘You mean it?’ There was no hiding her relief.
‘Of course. I do a bit of cleaning at the boatyard but nothing that will stop me having another day off.’
‘Been on holiday?’ she asked, as she made a shandy.
‘No, I was just chasing a wild goose, or something.’ He laughed, his clear blue eyes meeting hers giving him a friendly honest look. ‘No secrets. Just a boring tale that I’ll tell you one day.’
‘Don’t worry, I don’t want to know the ins and outs. Just help me tomorrow and I’ll be satisfied. If you could come early I’ll show you where everything is kept and talk about how I like things done.’
‘I look forward to it,’ Alun said, wondering how he could get hold of some decent clothes by morning.
The next morning, he arrived early and Betty was startled at the change in his appearance – he had shaved off his beard. ‘I know,’ he said ruefully, ‘a face that’s pale and unfamiliar. But I’m not an impostor, it’s me, Alun. I thought I needed to look the part before working beside the famous landlady of The Ship and Compass. Will I do?’
‘That was a shock. Until you spoke I didn’t recognize you without that wool on your face,’ she teased.
After a brief tour of the cellars and bar, Alun took over the cooking, making the pasties in half the time it would have taken Betty, who marvelled at his skill. She was curious to know what had happened to the restaurant but she didn’t ask. He would tell her when he was ready, if he wanted to, and until then she was grateful for his professional assistance. He was just as capable behind the bar as in the kitchen, and after a few of the regulars had joked about his previous appearance being like ‘a rat peeping through a ball of oakum’, they accepted him.
When the bar closed that evening, he would sit and drink the cup of tea Betty promised, and tell her the full story.
Meanwhile the bar was full and he was going to earn his pay.
*
Lowri got on with her preparations for the Sunday lunch still wondering if Marion was in some sort of trouble. If only she could persuade her to talk. It might be something she could help her with, and privacy shouldn’t go so far as to cause harm. The idea followed that if she went to Marion’s parents’ house carrying an invitation for her to come to Badgers Brook on Sunday, it would seem less like prying and she might be able to talk to her. H
owever she had received those injuries, it was not from falling off a bike!
Straight from work, she scribbled a note and set off. The back door of the house was open and several children were riding bicycles across what had once been a rockery with deep concentration. They ignored her after an initial friendly wave and she tapped on the door. Marion came with Sandra in her arms and for a moment she glared, then her expression softened as Lowri held out the invitation.
‘There’ll be the usual crowd, I thought you’d like to see them again,’ Lowri explained, feeling like a traitor, knowing that was not the true reason. ‘Dic is coming with the girls, and Ken, and Betty Connors and her friend Gwennie Flint. We’ll eat in the garden if the weather is suitable. Will you come?’ She was aware she was gabbling and she turned to leave. ‘No need to let me know. Just come if you can,’ she said, waving goodbye.
She stopped and glanced back and saw Marion put the little girl down and hurry inside. Curious, and feeling like an idiot, Lowri pushed into a hedge and waited. Moments later Marion rushed out of the gate and ran down the road. Cautiously Lowri followed. She led Lowri through narrow lanes where she had to stay well back then hurry to catch up afraid of losing sight of her. To her disappointment Marion knocked on a door and disappeared inside. The voices that reached her suggested she had called on a friend and would stay for a while.
Unwilling to stand and wait for what could be hours, she walked past the house while hidden by the bushes, then on past a row of small cottages. Without any plan in mind she walked on, and eventually found herself in the narrow road that led to the cliffs on which the hut stood. She sat on a bank, hidden from the road and tried to tell herself she had been mistaken all along, that the times she had seen Ellis had been foolish fantasies brought on by her determination to help her father.
She had almost convinced herself that it was time to stop chasing dreams and get on with her life, when she heard someone approaching. Not wanting to be seen sitting in such a lonely spot, feeling foolish and ashamed of all the trouble she had caused for her friends, she pulled herself a little higher, out of sight from the road.
She took a sharp intake of breath as she saw the person passing her hiding place. It was Marion. All promises to herself vanished into the air. Where was Marion going? Had she seen her sheltering in the hedge and called on a friend to avoid being followed? She carefully slipped down the bank, the suspicions she had tried to put aside were back in place, her awareness heightened.
Unbelievably Marion went towards the hut. What was it about the place that attracted so much attention? Instinctively she grasped the key in her pocket, like a talisman; a connection with her father keeping her safe.
The boat equipment could hardly be anything to do with Marion, so what secret did it hold? In the same place where she had hidden before, she pushed herself into the prickly branches of a bramble and saw her friend rap on the window. The door opened and there, without any doubt, stood the man who was supposed to be dead, the man who had caused her family so much anguish: Ellis Owen.
With her heart racing madly she watched as Ellis stepped outside, taking Marion in his arms. Their laughter could be heard on the still evening air as they hugged each other. Ellis stepped backwards down into the hut and lifting Marion, carried her inside and the door closed behind them.
Lowri began to tremble, her legs seemed unable to hold her and she sank to the ground. She had been right all along. She looked around hoping someone was near – anyone, just a second person to face the man and help strengthen her case when she told the police he was alive. Ellis and Marion: so many things were explained, but why did this have to happen when she was far from home? And in a place where there wasn’t a telephone box for miles. Dic! She needed to find Dic! But by the time he reached the place both would have left and sadly she knew that again he wouldn’t believe her. The euphoria of seeing the man again, and so clearly, left her feeling cold as she realized that once again she wouldn’t be believed by anyone.
It was already getting dark and she had a long walk back to Marion’s home from where she could catch a bus. She hesitated, realizing that the chance of being seen made the shorter route too risky. She hadn’t a choice; she had to walk the long way back along the route she had previously cycled. Then what would she do? No one would believe her. She groaned in despair. Pulling herself together, she began to walk, practising what she would say, trying out different versions of the events in an effort to sound more convincing, each time accepting that Dic would be kind, sympathetic, but certain she had been mistaken. Dic wasn’t at home when she telephoned and wearily she walked on. She finally caught a bus that took her to the main road of Cwm Derw and on impulse she went into The Ship, where to her surprise, Alun was serving.
‘Is Betty here?’ she asked, after greeting him.
‘In the back room having a ten minute breather.’
Lowri went through, calling as she knocked on the door of the living room. ‘It’s only me, Betty. You don’t know where Dic is, do you?’
‘I haven’t seen him, dear.’ Catching sight of Lowri’s anxious face she asked, ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
‘I know you won’t believe me, but I’ve just see Ellis Owen. He was meeting my friend Marion up there at the hut. Betty, I swear I saw him as plainly as I’m seeing you now!’
Betty jumped out of her chair and went to the bar. ‘Alun,’ she called. ‘Come here and listen to this.’
Surprised at the reaction when she’d expected only platitudes and soothing disbelief, Lowri repeated her story to Alun. ‘It’s too late to catch him,’ she said sadly. ‘I was stuck there too far from anyone who’d listen. Dic was out and anyway, by the time I reached the phone box it would have already been too late.’
Betty tried Dic’s number again and this time he answered. He spoke to Alun and although Lowri gathered from the one-sided conversation that he was still unsure, he agreed to make a few enquiries. ‘And I,’ Alun said, ‘plan to watch that hut day and night until I find out what’s going on.’ He smiled at Betty. ‘There are advantages in being a casual worker.’
When Lowri reached Badgers Brook, there was a bowl of blackberries on the step, a present from Kitty and Bob, and on the doormat, a letter addressed to Marion. As another excuse to call on her again, Lowri was tempted, but instead she would wait until Sunday in the hope her friend would come. Too many vague excuses to knock on her mother’s door might make her suspicious and with a lump in her throat for the implications of what she had witnessed at the hut, she knew that Marion – once considered a friend – was almost certainly involved in Ellis’s supposed death and the imprisonment of her father.
The thought that Marion was yet another false friend didn’t keep her awake for long; she went to sleep as the old house settled around her with its comforting sounds, relaxed in the knowledge that someone believed her. Alun Harris, who had also suffered at the hands of Ellis Owen, believed her and was helping to find him.
*
The following day, Dic called at the farmhouse and asked Tommy Treweather who was using the hut. He pretended he’d seen lights there and it had made him curious as he’d supposed it to be almost derelict and unused.
Tommy offered tea, which he called on Rachel to provide, then led Dic into the large, cosy living room. ‘Several people have used it. I don’t need it any more, no sheep, so no shepherd, so no need of a shelter.’ There was sadness in his voice as he talked about the loss of the farm that had been in his family for several generations. ‘We only have a few hens which Rachel can’t part with. It’s tractors and lorries on the land now. So I don’t mind if fishermen or bird-watchers use it occasionally. I go up to check it now and then and a fishing club paid for it to be repaired before the group disbanded.’
‘D’you know who’s using it at present?’
‘A young woman called and asked if a neighbour could store some fishing gear in there. I didn’t bother to ask his name. He fixed a padlock, I believe, althou
gh who he thinks will pinch his rods and stuff I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know his name?’
‘Didn’t get hers either.’
‘Someone looked through the window and thought they saw boating equipment.’
‘Boats? That doesn’t make sense. It’s a long way from the sea – except down!’
‘I went to look, just out of idle curiosity, but there’s something covering the window.’
Tommy sighed. ‘Look, the fact is, I’m no longer interested. Since the farm was sold and my animals taken away, I’ve had to put it all out of my mind. I’ll go crazy if I don’t. It was our sons, see. Neither Ryan nor Gareth wanted to take it on. And the wife wasn’t sorry to give it up. It’s a hard life. Without the boys there’s never a chance to get away for a holiday. Days, weeks and months have a predictability about them. Not to me, mind. There were never two days the same, but that’s how it was for Rachel. Loved it I did, but Rachel was glad to retire.’
Dic sat and listened to Tommy, aware of the man’s unhappiness, then made his excuses and left. He had learned very little but the one thing that made him curious was Tommy saying it had been a girl who had asked permission to use the hut. Why had the man not gone himself?
He got into the car and sat for a moment, trying to convince himself that Lowri had been correct, and she had seen Ellis. Then he shook his head. It was impossible and she must have been mistaken. Perhaps she ought to get away for a while. Perhaps she would consider coming on a holiday with himself and Sarah-Jane and Katie, if his mother came too? It was time Lowri renewed her friendship with her Auntie Cathy. He would talk to her when they met on Sunday, although Badgers Brook always attracted a lot of people, too many to hope for a private discussion.
*
Up on the hill above the cliffs dropping down to the sea, Alun stood. A calm, quiet, patient man. Showers soaked him and the sun dried him and still he waited. He’d decided on twenty-four hours, sitting to eat the food he’d brought and resting for a few hours during the darkest hours of the night. He’d continue coming back until the hut had been emptied and he had lost his chance, or he faced the person who had ruined his life. On Sunday he’d go to the luncheon party Lowri had arranged. If Marion went too, he’d listen with great care to everything she said.
False Friends Page 22
