‘Yes, but first, about Christmas. Will you come?’
‘Thank you, yes, I’d love to.’
‘The cottage or my place?’
‘You choose.’
‘I know you like the cottage but I think you should spend your first Christmas there next year, when it’s really yours.’
‘Fine,’ she smiled. ‘I’ll come early Christmas morning.’
‘No, you’d better come early Christmas Eve. There’ll be shopping to do. You’ll be cooking dinner so you’d better choose what we buy.’
‘I’ll be cooking dinner? You’re inviting me so I can cook?’
‘A good rest is just what Aunt Catrin needs.’
‘Of course,’ she said, staggered by his suggestion. ‘And what I need is a couple of busy days!’
‘I thought so.’ He ignored her sarcasm entirely.
While she sat suffering a mild panic at the thought of providing a full dinner for three people, Rhys seemed immune to her reaction. He looked around the room perfectly relaxed as she made coffee for them both, until he saw the photograph of himself.
‘When did you take this?’ He picked it up and studied it critically.
‘Oh, do you recognise him? It’s a photograph I took of a thief raiding Firethorn Cottage!’
He laughed as she described creeping through the bushes, watching his suspicious antics.
She enjoyed watching him sitting across the room from her, so relaxed and at home, filling a gap in her life of which she hadn’t been aware.
Already she was looking forward to Christmas with growing delight. But the happiness was tinged with worry. She had rarely cooked for more than two people and had never tackled a full roast dinner in her life.
4
During the last frantic days before leaving Haversley School, Amanda felt genuine regret. She had enjoyed happy relationships with all the staff and there was the dissatisfaction of leaving the children only one term into the school year.
‘Things rarely work out tidily,’ Catrin said when Amanda phoned her. ‘And just think how long you might have waited for another vacancy.’
‘I’m not complaining,’ Amanda assured her friend. ‘But I still hate leaving with my job only partly done.’
In between school activities Amanda searched through cookery books with a fervour bordering on desperation. She had never attempted a roast meal, managing as she did on a tiny table-top cooker. How was she going to produce a traditional meal for three? She tried to keep her fears from Catrin. If Rhys’s idea was to give his aunt a few restful days there was no point in ruining his plan by admitting her worries. But if I don’t ruin the plan, Amanda thought miserably, I’ll probably ruin the dinner!
‘Will Rhys expect roast potatoes?’ and ‘Will he want brandy sauce with the pudding?’ She tried to make the questions sound like casual enquiries about his likes and dislikes. Catrin was not fooled for an instant.
‘I expect you’ll find it awkward, cooking a complicated meal in a strange kitchen,’ she said one day. ‘But don’t worry, dear. Between us we’ll make sure Rhys doesn’t starve. I’m not going to sit and be waited on whatever he thinks. We’ll do it together, won’t we?’
Amanda wondered if her sigh of relief was heard at the other end of the phone.
When term reached its effervescent close, Amanda was waved off by the children and the staff and, hurrying home more emotionally drained than she had expected, she began to pack the few parcels for Tri-nant.
Cards were arriving with each post and she hung them on lines of string across the walls. One was from Gillian and Roy and she felt rather hurt that it had been written by Gillian and not by Roy himself. With a family of just two, she deserved a personally written card, didn’t she?
She put the card in her bag to take with her. Catrin and Rhys knew she had a brother and she had to mention him from time to time, and build up to the moment when they would be introduced. That situation she would delay as long as possible, at least until Roy was established in a steady job. Having kept his prison record a secret from Catrin and Rhys this long, it was impossible to confess it, so she hoped it would remain hidden in the past, a disastrous period of his life never to be repeated.
The telephone rang before she had finished packing presents and it was Gillian. ‘Thank you for your card,’ Amanda began, then unable to resist, she added, ‘How nice for my brother to have someone to write it for him.’
‘He didn’t want to send one at all,’ Gillian said sharply. ‘He has to get out of the flat at the end of December and he isn’t feeling very Christmassy.’
‘He’s lived there rent-free since I moved and he’s had weeks to find somewhere else.’
‘He’s still hurt at your refusal to give him a home. And owning a house and making up some story about not being able to take him in, well, with him being your only relative it seems very hard.’
‘If you’ve phoned to make me feel guilty then you can forget it! Roy has been in and out of prison since he was fourteen. Every time he was released he came to me, disrupted my life then got himself arrested again. Nothing I have done has helped. Nothing! I just feel that this time, if he stood on his own feet instead of looking for someone to lean on, he might succeed in doing something with his life!’
‘He won’t manage alone. You know that deep down, although it might ease your conscience to pretend different. Roy needs help and if you, his only sister, won’t give it, then I will.’
‘Then all I can say is good luck! You’ll need it!’
Amanda was about to put down the telephone when she realised Gillian was crying.
‘Gillian? What’s happened? What’s wrong?’
‘He’s been arrested again. He didn’t want me to tell you, he didn’t want to spoil your Christmas! Now I’ve been sacked because they think I helped with information. If you’d been kinder this wouldn’t have happened, and you know it. He’s trying desperately hard to stay out of trouble. It’s all your fault, hurting him like you did!’ It was Gillian who replaced the receiver.
Amanda was distressed by the news and shaken by the accusations and, after staring at the silent phone for some moments, she rang Catrin. Not to tell her about the interview but to calm herself with talk about her forthcoming visit. Rhys was not in London as planned but in Snowdonia hoping for some winter photographs to complete his brochure project. Catrin told her he still expected to be back late on the evening of the twenty-third.
‘The realisation that he could get the photographs a little earlier made him suddenly decide to leave,’ Catrin explained. ‘He’s always been that way. Impulsive, unable to stay in one place for long. That’s why he hasn’t married,’ she went on. ‘Where would he find a girl to put up with his wanderlust?’
‘Is it wanderlust or his job? He could hardly make films without travelling,’ Amanda said reasonably.
‘Did the job create him or he create the job?’ Catrin mused. ‘I think he chose a career that would allow him to continue his restless ways. He was always a wanderer. No, anyone who loved Rhys would have to be able to cope with his constant disappearances.’ She paused and said softly, ‘She would have to be an angel.’
Amanda listened and wondered if she were being warned not to become too involved. She must have made it transparently clear that Rhys was one of the reasons for her frequent visits to the cottage at Tri-nant.
‘This is the 1950s,’ she said airily. ‘People don’t think of marriage as inevitable today. It’s no longer the highlight of a girl’s life to find a man and marry him. Money is less for women but, with talk of equality, that will change. Equal pay for an equal job will become a reality, won’t it? It’s over a year since it was discussed in parliament so something must happen soon. Even before it does, with a reasonable job a woman can keep herself, and being ‘kept’ used to be one of the main reasons for marrying, wasn’t it?’
‘Oh surely not, dear,’ Catrin argued. ‘I would have been financially secure without my husband but
I loved him. Falling in love might be a drawback to this growing interest in equality, but you wait till you feel Cupid’s arrow!’
‘I’ve felt a few,’ Amanda admitted with a chuckle. ‘But so far the wounds have been superficial.’
‘Don’t you want to marry and have children?’
‘As I’ve believed myself alone apart from a brother I rarely see, a family is something I’ve longed for. But I’m happy with my life at present. I love my work and the thought of living in Firethorn Cottage makes me content.’
Amanda spoke defensively, afraid Catrin was doubtful about her growing friendship with Rhys. After she had replaced the phone she wondered why she had been so sensitive. Was there a seed of hope in her heart that Rhys might consider her to be a woman who could ‘cope with his constant disappearances’? Who could be ‘an angel’?
* * *
At Gillian’s home, Mrs Harris was consoling her daughter, and, somewhat doubtfully, promising her support for Roy. Mrs Harris was small and plump like her daughter and she was always adorned extravagantly in bright jewellery. She habitually wore short skirts and big jumpers which emphasised her rather dumpy shape, but she was pretty and lively and was extremely well liked.
Besides her jewellery, she had a sparkle in her smile and in her bright, friendly eyes. She loved her only daughter dearly and although she had reservations about encouraging a friendship with a thief, handsome and charming though he was, she promised to help make Roy’s eventual release a second Christmas.
‘We’ll buy you a dress that’s real fetchin’,’ she said. ‘A nice cheerful red. And we’ll get a chicken to roast and make a real do. Save some presents too, shall we? And have a proper party with crackers and paper hats?’ Her pretty face glowed as she saw in her mind’s eye the splendid ‘welcome home’ she would arrange.
* * *
With very little time before the holiday engulfed all chances of getting news about her brother, Amanda spent the next day learning as much as she could. She didn’t apply for a permit to see him, convinced that he would be well served by Gillian. She couldn’t face more accusations, so she avoided asking Gillian for news but depended on the Probation Service, Roy’s solicitor and the court. It seemed likely he would spend Christmas in custody. Well, she sighed, it wouldn’t be the first time!
* * *
On Christmas Eve, Rhys was waiting for her at the bungalow with his aunt, and he showed her into the dining room where an attractively presented lunch awaited them. A buffet of small sandwiches, quail’s eggs, salads, pickles, jam tarts and some delicious biscuits.
‘What a relief! I’m starving and was afraid I’d have to prepare lunch,’ Amanda said, glaring at Rhys with a pretence of anger. ‘But this is wonderful. How did you do it? You only got back last night, didn’t you?’
‘I thought it would be quicker if we’re to get our shopping done.’
Leaving Catrin to pack away the remains of their lunch they went to buy what food they could find to last throughout the following three or four days. With meat, bacon, cheese, butter and fats still rationed it wasn’t easy. But there was an air of optimism as everyone believed it would be the last Christmas of food rationing. ‘If it doesn’t end in 1954, I’m going to emigrate!’ was a regularly repeated joke.
They had to queue for practically everything they needed, with shops even running out of vegetables as the time to close drew near. Amanda watched for signs that Rhys was losing patience but he seemed unaffected by the tedium of the constant waiting. It augured well for the holiday that Rhys was in a happy mood and so obviously pleased that she was there.
Most of the shopping was done in the crowded market and Rhys even admitted to enjoying the bustle and the pushing as they gradually succeeded in getting everything on their list.
‘I know most do their shopping well in advance,’ he said as they struggled to push their way into a café for a welcome cup of tea. ‘But to me it isn’t Christmas without a few hours of this agony.’
Amanda thought of her own past Christmases when she bought only the same as on a normal weekend. ‘I usually spend a few hours with friends and that’s about all,’ she said.
‘Your brother doesn’t share it with you?’
‘He usually has other arrangements,’ she said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
‘It might be different when you find your family. Have you learned anything more?’ he asked.
‘Not really. These past few weeks haven’t given me much time to think about it. End of term is always frantic. I keep looking at passers-by though, and wondering if they are related to me. Foolish I know, but I might be standing next to someone at a stall, without knowing they’re a cousin or an aunt. It’s strange.’
‘Well, Aunt Catrin will be happy to be a deputy aunt until you find one of your own,’ he said.
‘She’s been very kind.’
‘Oh, here’s someone who isn’t a relation but could become a friend.’ He waved and Heather James pushed her way through the over-full café followed by a man Amanda was introduced to as Heather’s husband Haydn. He was almost as tall as Rhys but fair and extremely slim. His light hazel eyes appraised her briefly as she shook his hand, before his attention returned to his wife.
Rhys ordered more tea and cakes and soon the four people were adding to the lively chatter that surrounded them. Rhys had to lean over her, his arm around her shoulders, to talk to Haydn. Amanda found his nearness intoxicating. She thought this was going to be one of the most wonderful Christmases imaginable.
‘Was lunch all right?’ Heather asked then.
‘Perfectly fine,’ he replied. For a moment, Amanda didn’t realise what had been said, then she glared at Rhys, outrage making her soft blue eyes glow. ‘You mean Heather made lunch? But you led us to believe—’ She burst out laughing. ‘You really take the biscuit for cheek, Rhys Falconbridge!’
‘Did I give the impression I was responsible for that delicious spread?’ he asked innocently.
‘Sorry if I spoilt your story,’ Heather smiled. ‘I should have been primed.’
Haydn laughed with her and, seeing them side by side, sharing the fun, she had the impression of a gentle man, a kindly man for whom Heather and their children were everything.
Amanda noticed that all the time they were there, Heather kept glancing at her watch. She wondered if it was anxiety about her daughters. Heather James did seem a very tense mother.
As Heather gathered together her shopping in preparation to leave, a woman pushed her way past the other tables and stood in front of Amanda.
‘Gillian!’ Amanda said. ‘What a surprise. What are you doing here?’
‘Looking for you!’
Amanda looked alarmed. ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, thinking at once of her brother.
‘I think so! You could have permission for a Christmas visit to see Roy but he tells me you haven’t applied for it.’
‘I’ll come outside, Gillian, we can talk there.’ Amanda was afraid Gillian would say more than she wanted her new friends to hear, but Gillian refused to take the hint.
‘Your only brother in prison over Christmas and you can’t be bothered to go and see him!’ she blurted out.
‘Gillian!’
Rhys stood up and made way for Amanda to join Gillian. ‘You go and talk to your friend and we’ll meet at the car in ten minutes, all right?’ In a daze she collected some of their shopping.
She heard Rhys say casually, ‘Nothing to worry about, Heather, your new teacher isn’t from a criminal background. It’s only a traffic offence, isn’t it, Amanda?’ She nodded miserably, adding a new lie to the lie by default, and followed Gillian out of the restaurant.
They drove home in silence and as Rhys turned off the engine she said miserably, ‘You knew about Roy being in prison?’
‘We knew. It was Philip Morgan who found out, according to Aunt Catrin, although she seemed rather evasive when I questioned her. He used to be a newspaper reporter a
nd sniffing out facts is second nature to him. We were waiting for you to tell us but you obviously don’t yet trust us enough.’
‘It wasn’t a lack of trust. I wanted a fresh start, away from the worry of him coming home, making a mess of my life then being hauled away again, back to prison. First there were the remand centres, then prison. He’s probably going to serve his twelfth prison sentence and I’m tainted by it. What’s even worse, he’s involved Gillian who’s been so good to him, and both of them blame me! I need to put it all behind me and have a fresh start as much as a criminal does.’
‘It makes a bit of a mockery of you searching for family if you can’t cope with one brother,’ he accused, softening the remark with a smile. ‘Don’t be ashamed for someone else’s actions. You can’t take on other people’s problems.’
‘How can you know what it’s like! I’m trying to make a life for myself and he seems hellbent on ruining it. I was almost engaged to a man called Edmond, but after Roy’s most recent arrest for a string of robberies, not one, mind, a whole string of them, well, Edmond didn’t want to see me again.’
‘He couldn’t have loved you if he was put off by your brother’s behaviour.’ He drove through the gate and stopped the car.
‘He did love me and our plans were ruined by Roy’s activities. How could you understand? You in your safe secure life? It’s easy to accuse me of not caring, but what good has caring for him ever done?’
‘I didn’t mean to accuse you of not caring. I think you care too much and—’
Ignoring his words she jumped out of the car and walked back to close the gate.
She was relieved to see someone walking along the road, someone she could talk to and ease the bitter disappointment of the shopping trip that had been ruined by Gillian.
‘Philip, a Happy Christmas to you,’ she called gaily. ‘Who’s your furry friend?’ she asked, pointing to the rather large dog walking beside him.
The Tangled Web Page 7
