* * *
Gethyn rarely went into the town. He was uneasy with people and preferred to find what he needed in the small mini-market in the village. Seeing Rosemary set off for work that morning, he decided to go and see her at the library and perhaps, if the situation went well, invite her to go to the shops with him on the following Saturday afternoon. He knew it would be easier for him to ask her by calling in the house next door, but if he were to change his clothes, he must change his attitude as well. Going into the library, her place, strange ground for him, was a challenge he must not avoid. If he were to change then he had to face a new challenge every day. This was an easy one to start with.
He saw her almost at once and knew he could not speak to her. She was laughing with her friends, Megan and the new assistant, Sally, both of whom he disliked. Megan was too possessive with Rosemary and Sally looked too bold to be anything but trouble.
From the shadow of a tall bookcase he watched as she took out a garment and held it against herself for the others to see. It was shaped rather like a pair of dungarees, but in material so flouncy and light and colourful, he couldn’t imagine anyone using them to do anything except sit still. She looked stunning, with more colour in her cheeks and excitement shining in her eyes than he’d ever seen. He turned away. It was she who was changing, and much faster than himself!
He felt foolish standing there wanting to talk to her, now there was nothing to say. Something had happened to her, she was moving far out of his reach.
‘Gethyn? We don’t see you in here very often.’ Rosemary, coming up behind him startled him and he stood up and closed the book.
‘I was waiting for the bus back and came in for a few minutes. I didn’t come in for anything in particular,’ he added hastily. He left then, feeling angry with himself for not taking the opportunity to ask Rosemary to go shopping with him, but there was plenty of time. Tomorrow would do.
On Friday, he sat in his front room, watching for Rosemary’s car to stop at the parking place across the stream. She was late, and he presumed she was still working. Friday was the day they stayed open until eight o’clock. But at ten o’clock she still hadn’t arrived and he guessed then that the shopping and the excitement must have meant she was away for the weekend.
But why hadn’t she told him? There couldn’t be another man, could there? He sat at the window until darkness made it impossible to see even the shadows of the footbridge, then went to bed.
* * *
The weather was amazingly good for the weekend in Aberystwyth. As Rosemary parked her car behind the tall hotel, the clouds broke more like morning than evening, and the sun burst out, touching everything with gold as if it were setting the scene for the brief sojourn in the quiet seaside town.
Larry ran out to meet her and his greeting left no doubt that he was pleased to see her again. They chattered as they went up to their room with its wide windows looking out across the sea. They marvelled at the brightness of the sun, the peacefulness of the beach and the promenade.
‘It’s another world!’ Larry said. ‘It’s like walking back into a past where today’s troubles aren’t even a distant fear.’
‘Lacks the bustle of New York, doesn’t it!’
‘It’s fantastic! It’s a place to come and find yourself,’ he murmured. Then he kissed her, the excitement of meeting again overcame them and they fell back on the wide and tempting bed.
Larry announced later that he had hired a car, not a large comfortable one as she imagined he would insist on, but the Citroen Dolly, which he described as ‘no speedster but a lot of fun’.
‘I thought I saw you driving one through the village, the day you put the note through my door,’ she told him. But he shook his head.
‘I guess there’s another handsome fella with the same tastes,’ he joked. ‘Just so long as he doesn’t want my girl as well!’ He smiled at her and added, ‘I sure am longing to see the village and this cottage of yours. Grey stone and built on the banks of a stream … it sounds good to me.’
* * *
On their first morning, after a leisurely breakfast, Larry drove them up to an area close to Cader Idris mountain.
Thinking about it later, Rosemary realised that by the end of their weekend, although she had chattered about her friends, her neighbours and everything else they saw, Larry gave little away. His conversation was animated and he was obviously enjoying himself, but she knew no more about him than after their first day out in London. He wasn’t deliberately evasive, but managed somehow to avoid directly answering a question.
‘What do your parents do, Larry?’ she asked as they settled to eat in a small restaurant in the middle of the town.
‘Dad’s retired, but he keeps himself busy. He does a lot of charity work. The family go to the coast a lot and Dad loves to sail.’
The apparently full reply made it difficult to repeat the question without sounding very insistent. The days were too pleasant, his company too satisfying for it to be worth the risk of spoiling it. There would be other days, other opportunities for asking questions. What really mattered was that they were together, here and now.
She realised he was staring at her and brushed her hand through her short hair in slight embarrassment.
‘What are you thinking about?’
‘Trying to find a single word to describe you, my beautiful chameleon. Yes, that’s what you are, I think – yes. Captivating, is the one. You captivated me the first moment I saw you, in the London hotel. You seem to enjoy even the simplest pleasures and you make me feel good.’ He smiled and took her hand in his. ‘There, does that answer your question?’
She blushed slightly, remembering that her own thoughts at that moment had been hovering around the fact that he didn’t answer her questions!
‘I think I would use the word mysterious, for you,’ she said hesitatingly, half fearing that her words would spoil the day.
‘Me? Mysterious? Why, for heaven’s sake?’
‘I feel I’ve known you for ever, yet I don’t know a thing about you.’
‘I’ve been so afraid I’d bore you and drive you away from me.’
‘Bore me? I want to know everything about you.’
‘Then you will!’ he laughed and began tapping his fingers as he told her his name, age, address in New York, his occupation – that of a history teacher in a college – and the fact that he was in love with her and wanted to go on seeing her until he was grey-haired and losing all his teeth. Helpless with laughter, they walked arm in arm back along the seashore to their hotel, tired and utterly content.
Yet, as she lay in bed, unable to sleep, going over all they had done that day and all they had said, she still felt a slight unease. Had he pushed that note through her door? If so, why the mystery? There was the car too, it wasn’t that common a sight to see a red and white Citroen Dolly in the village. And in London, he had said he was a complete stranger there yet she had the strong conviction on more than one occasion that he knew his way around as well as she did.
She stirred slightly in the bed and his arms tightened around her. His lips touched her cheek and, turning her head a little more, he found her lips. The rest of the night was a celebration of their love. All doubts were swamped and forgotten.
At breakfast on their last morning she was apprehensive, wondering if once more he would disappear from her life and again leave her waiting, hoping for a call or the mysterious arrival of a note.
‘I’ll call you during the week,’ he said, as they finished their final coffee. ‘And if you want to talk to me – please, please baby, please want to talk to me – here are the places where you might find me.’ He handed her a piece of paper on which several telephone numbers were written. ‘In fact, if you don’t have any objection, I might call at your home. Perhaps Wednesday?’
‘I’ll be there,’ she smiled. ‘Come for dinner.’
She put the numbers he had given her into her handbag and felt secure in the knowledge she wo
uld be able to ring him at one of them and talk to him should her doubts return to spoil the memories of the weekend.
* * *
Driving back and going straight to the library on Tuesday morning gave her an uncomfortable feeling. It was as if she were arriving for work unprepared, casually, and without the responsible feeling she normally wore like a cloak of respectability. I’m neither serious nor respectable any more, she thought with a half smile as she parked her car.
She had arranged to meet Megan and Sally for lunch and they were given a brief and rather dishonest version of her few days in Aberystwyth. But she needed to discuss it, to try and put the exciting events into some calm order, to make herself believe that it was only a casual thing, a wonderful interlude that would pass and leave her with no regrets. She wondered if Megan’s wise head would be able to persuade her to believe that was all she should expect.
It was Megan’s day off and she had to wait until the evening to talk to her at length and tell her more about the weekend, things she couldn’t discuss in front of Sally. She bought a ready-to-eat meal from the supermarket in town and after she had eaten, she settled into her favourite chair and dialled Megan’s number.
‘It was a wonderful weekend and Aberystwyth was the perfect background for it, so calm and friendly, like—’ She sought for the right words.
‘Like a full-bosomed, favourite maiden aunt!’ Megan finished. ‘That’s how I always think of Aberystwyth.’
Although she only gave a description of the places they had seen and the restaurants where they had eaten, Megan sensed there was something else Rosemary wanted to tell her.
‘But?’ she asked in her forthright way. ‘There is a “but”, isn’t there?’
Rosemary paused before saying, ‘Megan, did you hear a click then, as if someone had picked up another phone?’
‘No, love, I didn’t. If it’s a crossed line whoever it is will soon put it down again.’ Megan waited a moment but the sound was not repeated. ‘There, nothing at all. Now, what was the slightly sour note?’
‘Only that, all the time, I was wondering if, at the end of it, Larry would disappear again without telling me where I could contact him, or even if he wanted me to. He seems to be open but he doesn’t give anything away. He uses a lot of words to answer a question but they don’t amount to much in the way of information. I have to accept that this is only a brief affair, haven’t I?’
‘But he gave you a number where he can be reached?’
‘Yes, but right at the last moment. Megan, I know it sounds silly but I had the feeling he was teasing, playing with me, wanting me to ask him.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I don’t know. There was something holding me back. He isn’t being honest with me. I felt he was undecided about seeing me again. Perhaps I don’t come up to his expectations in bed and he couldn’t find the words to tell me. Megan! Did you hear that? Someone breathed heavily.’
‘Nonsense, love. Go on.’
‘I wondered if – oh, Megan, perhaps he’s married. It isn’t easy to get him to answer questions, he fills out a reply but without really telling you what you want to know. I would have had to really pester him for answers and, well, I didn’t want to spoil the wonderful weekend.’
‘You think he’s married? Is that what’s bothering you? I can understand if that’s the case, you don’t want to be involved in anything messy.’
‘Megan, I think someone is listening to this conversation.’
‘Oh, come on, you are getting paranoid. Best you don’t see the boy again if he’s having this effect on you!’
‘There! Did you hear that?’ The sound of a stifled cough met her ears, but again, Megan laughed it off.
‘Imagining things you are. Overtired I expect. Get to bed now and you’ll feel better in the morning.
‘See you tomorrow, love,’ Megan chuckled and she replaced her phone.
* * *
Immediately afterward, Rosemary heard the unmistakable sound of another phone being dropped into its cradle.
4
On Wednesday Rosemary went to work, having prepared a meal ready to put into the oven, put a bottle of wine to cool and made sure everything in the cottage was as neat as she could make it. At the library she was in a state of excitement, wondering when Larry would arrive. Every time the phone rang she would run to it, so, eventually, no one else even attempted to answer it. When a query forced her to leave the desk, she ran frantically to deal with it to hurry back to the phone and wait again for it to ring.
She allowed herself a long lunch-break with the collusion of Megan and luxuriated in a session at the hairdressers where she had a tint and a fluffy cut that changed her appearance startlingly. She stared at her reflection and marvelled at the change from the sober, rather stiff-faced Rosemary of just a few weeks before, to this modern, and well-presented young woman that stared back at her like an attractive stranger.
At four she left the building and stepped out into a dull, rather chilly afternoon and looked around the town car park with rising disappointment. There was no sign of the Citroen Dolly that Larry had been using the last time they had met.
She reached her car without seeing anyone remotely like Larry and began to drive home. She turned in just before the road bridge and went slowly down the lane. There was no Citroen to be seen.
Parking on the opposite side of the stream next to the Capri belonging to the student, she looked across, but the house seemed exactly the same as when she had left. There was no one standing at the gate looking out for her. She collected the salad and fruit she had bought at lunch-time and walked across the wooden footbridge and into the house. He wasn’t coming.
She opened the door with her key and stepped inside and at once knew someone was there.
‘Larry?’ she called. There was no reply and she tiptoed along the small hallway and into the living room. He was stretched out on her settee and fast asleep.
She didn’t stop to wonder how he had got in. Dropping her shopping onto the carpet, she knelt down and kissed him lightly on his forehead. He stirred slightly and she kissed him again, this time on his lips. His eyes opened and crinkled into the smile hidden from her by their closeness. His arms slid around and held her close against him and she was breathless when he released her.
‘Larry? What are you doing here?’ she asked, her eyes showing undeniable delight at finding him there.
‘You don’t mind, do you? Only the queer fellow next door said he had a key.’
‘The “queer fellow”? You mean Gethyn?’
‘I guess so. Big, dark and kinda bashful?’
‘Yes, that’s him,’ she laughed.
‘I ran out of gas, would you believe! I walked three miles on empty roads. No vehicle passed me and I didn’t see a house. What a wild place this is! Give me New York where you can’t blink without missing something! I was almost in the village before I found anyone to help so I decided to wait here ’til you could come along and rescue me.’
As he stood up she saw heavy scratching and a purple bruise on the side of his face.
‘What happened to you?’ Her voice was light-hearted but she was alarmed by the severity of the bruising.
‘I got in the way of someone practising for the shotput I guess. A rock came through the window of the car while I was stationary. Hey! It’s okay! Don’t look so worried! Whoever heaved that rock must be feeling pretty sick. It couldn’t have been intended. Who around this place knows me well enough to want to crack my head? Come on. It’s nothing serious, but it was one hell of a shock at the time. I thought the natives were supposed to be friendly!’ He laughed away her concern and insisted it must have been an accident. But privately, he thought differently. What I came to Wales to find out is worrying someone, that’s for sure, he thought, as he explained where he had left the Citroen.
After putting the meal into the oven and the salad in the fridge, they set off to rescue the car. The driver’s window had be
en smashed by the rock that had hit Larry’s face. Despite further attempts on Rosemary’s part to find out what had happened, Larry insisted it was nothing more than an unfortunate mistake.
When they had taken petrol to restart the car and stopped at a garage to fill it up, they returned to the house to find the meal ready. They sat, companionably discussing the irritations of motoring.
It was dark by the time they had finished chatting and Larry yawned and said, ‘Rosemary my love, it’s time I was leaving.’
She tried to hide her surprise and disappointment. Finding him in her home she had presumed he was staying at least for a night or two.
‘Where are you staying?’ she asked.
‘In a town with an unpronouncable name!’ he laughed. He showed her on a piece of paper.
‘Machynlleth,’ Rosemary laughingly interpreted for him. It was only later that she realised that once again, he hadn’t answered her question.
‘I have to go back to London early tomorrow. Can you meet me there, say on Saturday?’ he asked.
‘Well, I have to work on Saturday morning, but the following Monday is a day off, will that do?’
‘Perfect!’
They were standing outside her doorway and he hugged her.
‘Where shall we meet?’ she asked, touching his injured face gently with curled fingers.
‘I’ll book a room,’ he said. ‘I’ll ring you to tell you when and where. Okay?’
Rosemary sighed as she waved him goodbye. She would be spending the next couple of days glued to the telephone once more, waiting for him to tell her the name and the address of the hotel where they were to stay. He was, she decided with a smile, a man who loved childish secrets. And she was a woman in love with a man who loved childish secrets. He was her mystery man, and she knew she should insist on knowing more about him or tell him goodbye, but something about him made her want to trust him, to wait until he was ready to talk. But, she prayed silently, please make it soon. In the front window of number one, Gethyn watched their affectionate leave-taking with a heavy heart. This then was the reason for the change in Rosemary. The words of a song from a recently borrowed library tape, Aspects of Love, came into his mind, ‘Love, love changes everything—’ Her love was not for him, but it was going to change things for him, all his soaring hopes were going to fall to the ground with a dull thud.
Search for a Shadow Page 5
