‘We’ve spent so much, and so far there’s only the building. There’s the inside to set up before I can do anything, places for tools and a bench for me to work on.’
‘No more expense, I promise. I’ve spent the last penny I intend to spend. Now it’s up to you to make money. Of course you might like to take our wonderful friends for a pint in the Dragon. They’ve earned it. Ages since you’ve been there.’
He looked at her sorrowfully. ‘Not yet.’
‘Then we’ll get a few drinks and they can come here. Right?’
Eric had been to see the builders that were clearing the remains of the furniture factory ready for building houses and explained what he needed. Help was promised for Monday morning.
‘If only Rhys would come home, everything would be perfect,’ Valmai sighed as she closed her eyes and imagined Gwilym settle himself against the bench in the new shed.
In Bristol, Rhys was picking up the latest brown envelope from Sally and felt that his guilt and shame must be visible on his face. He walked out of the café as eyes followed him, convinced they all knew how badly he was treating someone who loved him, someone who didn’t deserve to be stuck with someone as dishonest as himself.
Someone else was thinking of Rhys that day. It was more than a month since the date she had expected Rhys to come home, face the police and tell everyone they were to be married. She had written to him, trying not to beg, but asking when he expected to appear. The situation had to be resolved soon.
Although she hadn’t been to the doctor to get it confirmed, Sally knew she was again expecting a child. Four months, during which she had fought against morning sickness and lethargy, had passed and soon her condition would be clear for everyone to see and she knew she could ignore it no longer. Rhys must come home. Once she had spoken to him, then she’d go and start the procedures for the baby’s care. How she would manage, that was a very different thing. They wouldn’t have much money at first, and how could she work and cope with two small children? How would she feed them? She had to persuade him to stay, face the police and answer any questions . There hadn’t been any talk about his guilt apart from people like Milly Sewell, and the Waterstones – who had altered details slightly, just enough to build rumours about Rhys’s involvement, rumours that had made Rhys run away, afraid he would lose the chance of training as a teacher if accusations by the police resulted in an arrest.
It was Tuesday, the day she went to the butcher’s, and Milly was certain to be there. Would she guess? Would she be the first to point out to others that the unmarried mother was expecting again and with no sign of a husband?
Fortunately she was delayed and the shop was empty when she went to buy her midweek order. That simple reprieve made the day just a little happier.
Gwilym heard the sound of activity at the end of the garden and cautiously peeped out through the curtains. Six of the men he had once worked beside were struggling to fit the bench into the shed. The door had been taken off and lay on the path alongside the gate, also removed to allow them to deliver the bench. Gwilym opened the door and, hiding his legs beneath the blanket, waved. He felt ashamed. These men had lost their jobs, too. One suffered from arthritis, another had poor sight, but they had found work. Over tea and pasties he learned about others. Ted and Arthur Jones had goneto Australia. Peter Powell was in London, Maldwyn Porter had been killed in a fight in Liverpool aboard a ship. Then there was Walter, idling his time away being supported by Netta – who had found another job as soon as the closure had been announced. He should have done the same after the accident, not hidden here and allowed his wife to feed him. Guilt was a severe pain but it didn’t force him to go outside and join them. He’d left it too late. ‘I’ll make
‘No more expense, I promise. I’ve spent the last penny I intend to spend. Now it’s up to you to make money. Of course you might like to take our wonderful friends for a pint in the Dragon. They’ve earned it. Ages since you’ve been there.’
He looked at her sorrowfully. ‘Not yet.’
‘Then we’ll get a few drinks and they can come here. Right?’
Eric had been to see the builders that were clearing the remains of the furniture factory ready for building houses and explained what he needed. Help was promised for Monday morning.
‘If only Rhys would come home, everything would be perfect,’ Valmai sighed as she closed her eyes and imagined Gwilym settle himself against the bench in the new shed.
In Bristol, Rhys was picking up the latest brown envelope from Sally and felt that his guilt and shame must be visible on his face. He walked out of the café as eyes followed him, convinced they all knew how badly he was treating someone who loved him, someone who didn’t deserve to be stuck with someone as dishonest as himself.
Someone else was thinking of Rhys that day. It was more than a month since the date she had expected Rhys to come home, face the police and tell everyone they were to be married. She had written to him, trying not to beg, but asking when he expected to appear. The situation had to be resolved soon.
Although she hadn’t been to the doctor to get it confirmed, Sally knew she was again expecting a child. Four months, during which she had fought against morning sickness and lethargy, had passed and soon her condition would be clear for everyone to see and she knew she could ignore it no longer. Rhys must come home. Once she had spoken to him, then she’d go and start the procedures for the baby’s care. How she would manage, that was a very different thing. They wouldn’t have much money at first, and how could she work and cope with two small children? How would she feed them? She had to persuade him to stay, face the police and answer any questions . There hadn’t been any talk about his guilt apart from people like Milly Sewell, and the Waterstones – who had altered details slightly, just enough to build rumours about Rhys’s involvement, rumours that had made Rhys run away, afraid he would lose the chance of training as a teacher if accusations by the police resulted in an arrest.
It was Tuesday, the day she went to the butcher’s, and Milly was certain to be there. Would she guess? Would she be the first to point out to others that the unmarried mother was expecting again and with no sign of a husband?
Fortunately she was delayed and the shop was empty when she went to buy her midweek order. That simple reprieve made the day just a little happier.
Gwilym heard the sound of activity at the end of the garden and cautiously peeped out through the curtains. Six of the men he had once worked beside were struggling to fit the bench into the shed. The door had been taken off and lay on the path alongside the gate, also removed to allow them to deliver the bench. Gwilym opened the door and, hiding his legs beneath the blanket, waved. He felt ashamed. These men had lost their jobs, too. One suffered from arthritis, another had poor sight, but they had found work. Over tea and pasties he learned about others. Ted and Arthur Jones had goneto Australia. Peter Powell was in London, Maldwyn Porter had been killed in a fight in Liverpool aboard a ship. Then there was Walter, idling his time away being supported by Netta – who had found another job as soon as the closure had been announced. He should have done the same after the accident, not hidden here and allowed his wife to feed him. Guilt was a severe pain but it didn’t force him to go outside and join them. He’d left it too late. ‘I’ll make
Similar Books
