The Tangled Web

by The Tangled Web (retail) (epub)

  ‘I’ll sit in the kitchen,’ Amanda said as Catrin began to eat. ‘I’ll stay a while, so call if you need anything.’

  ‘Thank you, dear.’

  Rhys followed her downstairs and she sensed his continuing disapproval. ‘I’m afraid she caught a chill when we went to the churchyard,’ she told him. ‘Philip and I were crawling around searching for the name Beynon and Catrin stood waiting. I remember she did look cold.’

  ‘What were you thinking of, allowing her to get chilled? Too busy exchanging jokes with Philip, I suppose.’

  ‘You suppose wrong! It was your aunt’s idea to go and she is quite capable of telling me when she’s had enough and wants to go home!’

  He turned to look at her as though surprised at her outburst. ‘If Philip is helping you, you won’t need these.’ He took a few pages of notepaper from his pocket. ‘I went to look up some records and found a few items of interest, but I was obviously wasting my time.’

  ‘No, Rhys. I’m very grateful, really.’

  Ignoring his bad humour, Amanda opened the pages and saw dates to add to those already noted. She began to tell him about the sketchy plan she had drawn.

  ‘I know it’s mostly based on guesswork, but if Sheila and William were my great-grandparents, then I have to be a daughter of one of their grandchildren.’

  ‘Obviously. But there must be other families called Beynon. Why presume it’s this one?’

  ‘Because it’s Aunt Flora’s family. She was the daughter of Sheila and William. I must be part of her family or why would she leave me the cottage?’ Disapproval was slowly leaving his face and she smiled at him. At once the frown returned. ‘So,’ she went on, ‘if we accept Sheila and William, my mother was the daughter of either Flora, who so far as is known had no children, or the illegitimate daughter of Tom, who didn’t marry. Or, if the story about a third child is true, then my grandmother went to America.’

  ‘Which begs the question, how did you and your brother end up in Children’s Homes in Cardiff?’

  ‘And the trail ends. I don’t even know the third child’s name.’

  ‘I do. I have her name and that of her husband.’

  Amanda looked at him, her eyes shining. ‘You have? Rhys, please tell me!’

  ‘Flora and Tom’s sister was Gwen.’

  ‘Gwen.’ She repeated the name, savouring it, trying to build it into an image of a person whom she would know as her grandmother. ‘It’s my second name too,’ she said, her eyes shining. Rhys came to stand behind her leaning over her shoulder at the piece of paper he had placed on the table.

  ‘Gwen married someone called Ryan Talbot and they had a son who died and a daughter called Sian Talbot.’

  ‘My mother might have been Sian?’ Then she added with disappointment wrinkling her face, ‘No, Gwen’s daughter Sian can’t be my mother. Her name is Talbot. If I believe the rest, my name is or was Clifford.’

  ‘Her single name was Talbot: she married, presumably, if she had you and Roy.’

  ‘Oh, it’s hopeless. I see my way through it then find another closed door. Now I’m looking for a woman whose name might have been Talbot possibly living somewhere in America!’

  ‘Don’t give up,’ he said, turning her to press her gently into his shoulder. ‘We’re bound to find out the truth now we’ve made a start.’

  They stood together for a long moment and Amanda’s thoughts were no longer on the information he had brought. The fresh clean smell of him was like an exotic perfume and she was possessed by an urge to bury her face against his neck, to move so their bodies were moulded together. She wondered if he regretted having to move as much as she did.

  An hour later she left and he stood on the pavement watching until her car was lost to his sight.

  * * *

  Besides phoning, Amanda went once more to see Catrin. On a Sunday morning, she woke to a beautiful clear day. The forecast was good and she rang, suggesting they go for their postponed lunch. This time the front door opened and Catrin, warmly wrapped in a thick jacket and tweed skirt, stepped out to meet her.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re well again,’ Amanda said, helping her into the car and tucking a blanket around her knees.

  ‘I’m well, and hungry enough to eat a horse, dear.’

  They ate at the Red Cliffs Restaurant, on the rocky headland, which being rich in iron ore gave the place its name.

  ‘We used to picnic here years ago,’ Catrin said wistfully. ‘When there were small nephews and nieces to use as an excuse.’

  ‘You don’t need an excuse,’ Amanda laughed. ‘We can come whenever you like and picnic just like you used to.’

  ‘With a bonfire and smoky tea? And sandwiches with real sand?’

  ‘Of course. And if it’s children you want I can supply a classroom-full.’

  After lunch they strolled in the mild air along the cliff top before returning to the car. A mist was beginning to settle over the sea, sliding down from the land that had been warmed by the late autumn sun.

  Amanda was concerned at the slowness with which Catrin walked. ‘I hope you haven’t overtired yourself,’ she said anxiously.

  ‘I’ll be glad to be back,’ Catrin admitted, ‘but I have enjoyed this afternoon.’

  ‘So have I. Thank you for coming with me.’

  ‘Will you do something else for me before you leave?’ Catrin asked when they were back at the cottage. ‘Go and see Rhys? I’ve made a cake for him, and a few potato and cheese pasties with the last of my cheese ration. Oh what a treat it will be if rationing does finish next year. I’ll go out and buy the largest slab of cheese I can carry and pounds and pounds of butter.’

  ‘It has been a long time, hasn’t it? I can hardly remember not having to use ration books, or not having to queue for anything a bit special.’

  ‘Will you take them to him? He’s going away again tomorrow and he’ll find them useful.’

  Amanda’s heart gave a little skip at the prospect of seeing Rhys, but she answered calmly enough. ‘Certainly. I’ll go now shall I? Then I can come back and spend another hour with you before I have to leave.’

  The mist had thickened and the trees lining the lane were shrouded with it. It hung around the branches, moving slightly in the cooling moist air. When she reached the bungalow the front door stood open and a beam of light shone across the garden. She closed the gate behind her and looked around, wondering if Rhys had perhaps gone for a walk, perhaps to post a letter, leaving the door open for his return.

  Voices murmured on the calm air and she looked towards the stream at the side of the house where vague figures were emerging from the mist.

  ‘Rhys?’ she called, walking towards the dimly seen figures.

  ‘Coming!’

  The ghostly shapes drew nearer and she recognised the tall slim figure of Rhys followed by others. The group were soon recognisable as a young woman and two children.

  ‘Oh, it’s you, Amanda. How would you like to meet two of your future pupils?’

  He introduced the woman as Mrs Heather James and her two children as Helen, who was five and Jane, a shy four-year-old. Amanda bent down at once to talk to the little girls.

  ‘How lovely to meet you before I start working at Mill House School. I won’t feel so strange with friends waiting for me on my first day, will I?’

  Helen, an outgoing, confident child, began to chatter happily to Amanda, but Jane was unable to answer her questions. She slid behind her mother’s skirts and was obviously uncomfortable at the attention. Amanda didn’t press her, although she was included in the brief conversation.

  ‘Heather and I have been helping the girls collect gravel and weed from the stream to put in a fish tank,’ Rhys explained.

  ‘They hope to find frogspawn in the spring,’ their mother explained, ‘and they can’t bear to see the tank empty.’

  ‘Good idea. It’s surprising what you can find when you put some weed in a tank. All sorts of tiny creatures emerge. I’ll bring
a book next time I come so you can start identifying some of them.’

  The trio left and Amanda handed Rhys the box of food.

  ‘Will you come in for coffee?’ he asked.

  Amanda hesitated. She wanted to accept. The thought of spending time with him was tempting but she shook her head. ‘I have to leave soon and I promised to spend the last hour with your aunt.’

  ‘I’d like to talk about the two girls,’ he said, and, presuming she would follow, went through the door, closing it against the now chilly afternoon. He led her to the kitchen, which was so very different from the one in Firethorn Cottage. She compared its functional and modern units with the cosy unefficient lines of Catrin’s. But Catrin’s worked well without modern improvements.

  Rhys acted true to form. He took out coffee, percolator, milk and a tin of biscuits and left her to it. ‘I won’t be a moment,’ he said as he disappeared. ‘No sugar in mine.’

  ‘Will I ever be invited here without having to prepare my own?’ she demanded. But there was a chuckle in her voice.

  ‘Poor thing. So put-upon!’

  As they drank coffee, Rhys talked about Heather James’s two girls.

  ‘Helen is a bright little thing, but her sister Jane seems quiet for a four-year-old,’ he began. ‘I see them often and Jane doesn’t make the progress her sister did. She walked late and talked late and never shows that spark of mischievous curiosity most children have.’

  ‘Some children seem content to observe for a while.’

  ‘But she’s afraid of meeting people.’

  ‘Nervous of people or afraid of leaving her mother?’ Amanda asked.

  He shrugged. ‘When she starts at Mill House School, will you give her some extra thought?’

  ‘My first task will be to study the children and consider their special needs. But of course I’ll watch Jane and see she doesn’t fall behind the others. That’s a big danger with a shy child, she refuses to compete and quickly loses ground.’ She took another biscuit. ‘Are they special friends of yours?’

  ‘Remember when you drove me to collect some photographs? That was Heather’s husband, Haydn. He and I have been friends since we were at school. You’re sure to meet him soon.’

  Thinking of the drive back to the bedsit where a pile of work still awaited her, Amanda regretfully stood to leave.

  ‘Pity you’re leaving again so soon,’ she said as she shrugged into her coat. ‘I don’t think your aunt is really well yet. Lucky she has Philip next door. He’ll see she’s all right.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he said strangely, ‘good old Philip.’

  Amanda was still wondering about Rhys’s obvious dislike of Philip Morgan when she reached home. Philip was kind and he certainly watched over Catrin. Rhys should be grateful as he was away so much, but he was not. There was always a hovering tension when Philip was mentioned. She thought that she would ask Catrin the reason, one day.

  The weeks leading up to Christmas were busy ones for Amanda. Besides the handwork and decorations she made with the children and their normal class work, there was the Carol Service, the Nativity Play, and a Christmas Fair to raise money for much-needed equipment. There was sadness in the busy days too as she reminded herself that it was the end of her time there. Excited as she was about starting in the school in Tri-nant, she would be sorry to leave a place where she had been happy.

  Besides the varied activities in school, there were visits to her brother.

  Roy’s apparent determination to start a new life away from his previous friends cheered her. Having convinced the authorities and those prepared to help him, he was getting a lot of help and encouragement.

  ‘Pity you can’t let me stay, Mand,’ he said every time she saw him. ‘I miss you and we’re the only family we’ve got. It seems right to be together. Moving away from the familiar haunts would be just what I need, too. Tri-nant would be a wonderful fresh start.’

  ‘You know it’s impossible, Roy,’ she told him, guilt churning her stomach and making her feel sick.

  ‘But if you could find me a room in the village. At least we’d be together. You’re all I’ve got, Mand.’ He turned away and added quietly, ‘I saw Dave again the other day, but I avoided getting back with him, afraid I am, mind. Afraid that if I stay around here he’ll persuade me to get involved again.’

  Steeling herself, determined to resist this form of blackmail she shook her head. ‘No, Roy. I need a fresh start as well as you. You’ve brought my life into disrepute too, remember. I need this new beginning as much as you. And there’s Gillian, she seems very supportive and her parents like you. How would she feel about you moving away?’

  ‘It’s only eight miles, Mand, and Gillian understands the pressure I’m under. She wants me to succeed and if that means moving away from the temptation offered by the people around me, then she’s all for it.’

  ‘If you could look around for a better job you’d soon be secure.’

  ‘You make it sound so easy.’

  ‘Listen to those trying to help you and keep away from Dave! The rest will all happen if you really want it to. No one is a failure at twenty-five. You can start again and really make a success of things.’

  Roy nodded and assured her he would really try, but her confidence that he had changed had slipped considerably.

  She called on Catrin briefly to return the African masks and deliver the books she had promised Heather James’s girls, but the weeks went by so fast she had little time to spare. After a particularly hectic day which, because of the Christmas Fair, lasted from eight in the morning until almost nine o’clock at night, she reached home to find the developed photographs had arrived and she searched through them to see how successful her ‘burglar’ snaps had been.

  It was difficult to recognise Rhys in the ones taken through the window but the shot of him standing at the door was excellent. A surge of pleasure welled up in her as she studied the picture. His face was serious and she remembered his curiosity at the flowers she had left for Catrin. She propped the picture on a shelf, and went to run a bath.

  She had thrown her school bag and the items she had brought home carelessly on the couch. She was too tired to sort them out. They could wait till tomorrow.

  As she began to undress there was a knock at the door. Slightly irritated, she opened it to find Rhys there. ‘Rhys! What a surprise. Won’t you come in?’ She led them into her solitary room with an embarrassed wave of apology, conscious of the chaos of books and half-made Christmas decorations strewn about the room.

  ‘I’ve just come in,’ she murmured.

  ‘Not from school, surely?’ He looked at his watch and Amanda explained.

  ‘We held a Christmas Fair this evening, it’s been a long day. I’m not usually this untidy.’ She picked up a waterfall of books and invited him to sit.

  ‘Have you eaten?’ he asked.

  Amanda looked at him quizzically. ‘Are you going to invite me to cook for us both?’

  He smiled to show he appreciated the teasing and shook his head. ‘I thought we’d go out, unless you’re too tired?’

  ‘Give me time to bathe and change.’

  Leaving him studying her collection of books, she took her fresh clothes and went along the corridor to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later she was ready and sparkling, all thoughts of a lazy evening forgotten.

  Rhys took her to a restaurant near the edge of town where the speciality was French cuisine. When they had ordered she said, ‘How is Catrin?’

  ‘It’s Catrin I want to talk about.’

  ‘She’s all right, isn’t she? She was cheerful when I spoke to her last.’

  ‘Cheerful, yes, but I don’t think she’s well.’

  ‘How can I help?’ Amanda said at once, concern showing in her expressive eyes.

  ‘What plans have you made for Christmas?’

  ‘None. In fact, I’ve refused invitations as I want to spend the time preparing for my new post. I’ve some thinking and planning to do
after talking to the Head and I have cards and posters to make.’

  ‘Aunt Catrin and I wondered if you’d spend the two days with us. Either at my place or hers – yours, I mean,’ he smiled.

  ‘I’d love to!’ A wide smile showed her pleasure. ‘But it’s a family time. I wouldn’t want to intrude.’

  ‘Aunt Catrin asked me to invite you.’

  ‘Oh.’ Amanda couldn’t help the tiny gesture of disappointment at the implication that it was not his idea to share Christmas.

  ‘And I thought,’ he continued, ‘as you’re on your own, you might like the notion of spending Christmas in the village that will one day be your home.’

  ‘That was thoughtful of you,’ she murmured, disappointment still strong.

  It was raining when they left the restaurant and Rhys took her hand as they ran to the car. Laughing at their discomfort, she shook her hair free of the thin, useless scarf hurriedly thrown across her head and pushed it into a pocket.

  ‘Straight back to your fire, I think,’ Rhys said, opening the car door for her.

  ‘How I’d love to be heading back to the real fire in Catrin’s kitchen,’ she sighed.

  ‘You surely won’t keep the open fire when you move in?’

  ‘I might change my mind but at present I don’t think I’ll alter a thing. I love everything about it.’

  ‘I’m glad. Although I wish Aunt Catrin would make some plans. I can’t think why she doesn’t at least start enquiries about a place to live. Whenever I ask, she just smiles mysteriously and says, “something will turn up”!’

  ‘You make me feel guilty. But surely you understand how much I want to live there? Besides being a place to live, it’s a link with a family I didn’t know I had.’

  ‘Then you’ll come for Christmas?’

  It was still raining when they reached the bedsit and they went in and thankfully closed the door against the unpleasant night. Switching on the gas fire Amanda was again confronted by the shamble of books and papers. ‘I think I’ll leave these till the morning. Would you like some coffee?’