She still cleaned for Nelda, and the children continued to visit Llyn Hir for adventures in the wood and fields. She also visited SunnyBank but James Penberthy was absent for several more weeks. Karen and she worked on the house, Karen taking her when she was free, to auctions to buy small items of furniture and rugs and a few pictures, changing the place from a once unloved building to a welcoming home, bringing the house to life.
There wasn’t much to do, but she started working on the garden during the hours for which Karen paid her, bringing bulbs and border plants and setting them in a neatly dug bed near the entrance. She vaguely wondered why so much time and money was being spent making the place attractive when the owner would be unable to see it, so bought several plants known for their perfume: lavenders, roses, sweet williams, to give him pleasure when spring came.
The day came when she was told that William, Dick and Jack, Roy’s sons, were coming to inspect the house and arrange for its sale. Today she could delay no longer, she had to tackle the shed.
Kevin came to help and he removed most of the contents, stacking garden tools and a wheelbarrow and endless boxes of various powders and liquids promising wonderful yields for plants and death to pests. They would fill the bin once again.
There was a large chest of drawers in a corner and nervously, she pulled open the drawers, expecting to see movements as insects were disturbed for the first time for many months. She stumbled back when she pulled open the first one, it was empty and she had expected a struggle. Kevin opened the rest and surprisingly all but one drawer contained nothing. The final one contained a tin, sealed with tape. ‘Should I open this?’ she wondered, looking at Kevin to help her decide. ‘It isn’t rusted, in fact it looks new. It can’t have been here very long.’
He shrugged and then nodded. ‘You’ve been asked to sort out the rubbish from the rest. It probably contains seeds he was planning to use. Best that you check.’ He grinned. ‘Besides, I’m curious.’
They struggled with the tape and, when the tin was opened, found it contained only a single brown envelope. On the front of it was written, ‘Miss Zena Martin’, in block letters followed by her address. In smaller letters was added, ‘personal’,
‘I’ll take this and open it in front of his sons,’ she decided. Reluctantly, Kevin agreed.
It was easy to dispose of the garden tools. A rag and bone man, one of several who walked the streets asking for unwanted metal instead of calling out the age old cry, took it all a few days later. The following weekend, the sons were coming to take away the rest and a ‘for sale’ notice would appear. Zena arranged to meet them at the house and she would then open the letter.
To her disappointment, only William came. When he had examined the various collections, she took out the letter. ‘It’s addressed to me, but I wanted to open it while you are here in case there is something you need to be told. I hoped Dick and Jack would be with you.’
William sat on an armchair and waited while she opened and read the letter silently.
‘Well?’ he asked irritably. She began to read the letter aloud.
‘ “Sorry I couldn’t tell you all this, Zena, but I found it too distressing. It’s a story of a ruined life and I’d like at least one person to know the truth.” ’
William gestured for her to read on.
‘ “I was never the violent one,” it continued. ‘Miriam was the one with the uncontrollable temper. Here are some of the dates on which I was treated in hospital—” ’
William stood up and tried to snatch the letter from her. ‘Lies!’ he shouted. Throw it away, it’s more of his lies, trying to blame my mother for his thuggery!’
She put the letter behind her back and he began to push her against the wall, reaching to take it from her. Breathless with fright, she said, ‘You’ve inherited some of your mother’s less attractive traits then, haven’t you!’
‘Give it to me. It’s lies, you haven’t the right to read it.’
Struggling to stop him taking the letter, she raised her voice, ‘William! Get off me; it’s mine, addressed to me!’
Kevin appeared at the door and she gave a sob of relief as he hit out at William and pulled him away. While Kevin held him tightly in a painful shoulder hold, with a shaking voice Zena read the rest of the letter.
‘ “Here are some of the dates on which I was treated in hospital, you’ll find the causes to be: accidents in the garden, a fall down the stairs, accident on my bike, an injury at work. I was always good at making up excuses.
“She attacked her sister Donna, accused us of having an affair, and I took the blame because I knew the boys needed her. They were so young and I didn’t think I could give them a good life. I sent money every month until they were eighteen and ended it with a lump sum. She had never shown any sign of hitting them, and she promised she had never felt the slightest urge to do so. I took a chance I suppose, but believe me, I kept a close eye on things in case they were in any danger. The doctor was aware of my worry and each time I contacted him he told me he had seen no sign of her harming them, that they were happy and in good health.” ’
The letter ended with assurances of his love for them and his wishes for them to enjoy a happy life. There were a few sentences about Zena and Kevin and Doris with thanks for their friendship and he had signed it Dad/Roy/Popeye – which Kevin explained.
Zena kept the letter. William was still refusing to be convinced and she feared he would destroy it. ‘I’ll take it to the solicitor who will make sure Dick and Jack will read it,’ she said, as she and Kevin left.
It was a puzzle solved and Zena’s thoughts soon went back to the biggest puzzle in her family’s life. Why had her father deprived their mother of money that had rightfully been hers? If only she could find Billy Dove, perhaps that would eventually be solved too. She spoke of her concerns to Jake, aware of how much she had missed him being there when something was worrying her.
Could she risk relaxing into trusting him again, letting her life slip back into the certainty she had once known, that they would spend the rest of their life together? Although she knew that love for him was only just below the surface, she had serious doubts. His sojourn in London had been a life-changing time for her as well as Jake. But talking to him about the missing money and the elusive Billy Dove, that was different. She needed someone to talk to and Jake was the best person for that. He had known her family all his life, so who could be better?
With his growing list of customers he promised to ask about Billy Dove whenever an opportunity arose and although he did as he promised, there was no hint of the whereabouts of the man. Besides his customers, he asked in various pubs and one or two people remembered the name but no one knew where he had gone after leaving the village.
On a sunny day when the trees was showing their late autumn colours and the lake looked serene, Nelda came with the children who were dressed in wellingtons and mackintoshes and wearing brightly coloured knitted hats, ready for some fun. They walked to the lake but then asked to go into the wood and perhaps call at the farm, and although Georgie doubted whether she could walk there and back again, they set off. Betty went with them, and she walked and ran around following the two girls, much to their delight. As usual, they asked their mother if they could have a dog of their own and the answer always the same, ‘Not until you’re older’.
They gathered a few fir cones which Nelda promised to make into owls for them and selected sticks which they ‘really, really need to take home,’ tucking their treasures into pockets and under their arms. Nelda and Zena smiled, knowing that they would soon tire of carrying them.
Instead of going to the farm they stopped at SunnyBank when they saw Karen brushing the porch. She offered tea and cakes and they went inside, the neat porch quickly cluttered with abandoned, muddy footwear. A game of hide and seek in the huge house delighted them and, when they turned for home, they were happy at the way their day had turned out. ‘I love playing hide and seek,’ Georgie sa
id, ‘We’ll go and see Uncle Sam next time.’
When they got back to Llyn Hir, there was a stranger sitting on a seat outside the front door. He stood up and offered a hand. ‘Hello, which of you two ladies is Zena? I believe you’re looking for me. I’m Billy Dove.’
They all stared in disbelief. They had begun to think the name was an invention out of Ronald’s confused mind.
He was quite elderly but smartly dressed. His white shirt had been carefully ironed, his shoes polished to a mirror shine. His white hair and neat beard added a distinguished look to the handsome face. Bright blue eyes crinkled as he stood to greet them. He turned and reached for a stick leaning against the seat. ‘I try to pretend I don’t need this,’ he said with a smile. ‘Such vanity at my age!’
Zena stared for a moments before taking the man’s offered hand. ‘Mr Dove? We would like to ask— I’m sorry, please come in.’ They all went inside, and Zena offered him a seat near the fire. ‘I think you might be able to help us with a mystery.’
‘I’ll make tea,’ Nelda said, disappearing into the kitchen.
‘The trouble is, I’ll like to talk to you with my mother and brother here, is there any chance you could stay a while?’
‘I’m staying until tomorrow, will that be a help?’
‘Tomorrow! I don’t think I can wait that long! Mam and Greg will be here in about half an hour, if you could spare the time?’
‘Your father?’
‘No longer with us, I’m sad to say.’
‘I see. I helped him some years ago and I wonder if that is what you need help with now. But I’ll do what you ask and wait for the rest of your family.’
Bobbie and Georgie helped to carry in plates filled with cakes and biscuits, Betty following hoping some would be dropped. Then they asked if they could go outside.
When Lottie and Greg returned, the girls were nowhere to be seen. Instead of listening to Billy Dove’s answers to questions for which they had waited so long to ask, they ran out calling their names. There was no reply.
Grabbing coat and torches, they hurried out, Lottie pausing only to phone Sam. Greg went to the lake. Nelda ran down the lane with Lottie, calling their names and the name of the dog, fear in their hearts.
Lottie went through the woods towards the farm, Zena and Nelda went into the garden of SunnyBank. Nelda banged on the door and shouted at the top of her voice. Karen opened the door nervously, wondering who it could be. In shrieking voices, Zena called, ‘Bobbie! Georgie! Betty! Where are you?’ Nelda explained that the girls were missing and Karen shook her head. ‘They haven’t been here since you all left.’
‘Will you help us search the barns, please?’ Zena urged. ‘It’s almost dark and they’ll be so frightened.’ They continued to call their names and that of the dog but no responses broke the silence.
‘What worries me,’ Zena confided to Karen in a whisper, ‘is that the dog hasn’t barked. She always barks when we call her name. Always.’
The barns were searched and there was no sign of the children. Tearfully, Nelda asked Karen to call the police.
Georgie was trying not to cry. Bobbie was walking confidently along a narrow rarely used path and talking as though she knew the way, but in fact nothing looked familiar. The trees seemed bent down as though to restrict their way and were becoming thicker, catching on their clothes, pulling their hair free from the bobble hats they wore.
There was a wider path leading from the one they were on and Bobbie said, brightly, ‘Here it is, this will take us straight back to Mummy.’ Saying the word ‘Mummy’ made her panic. ‘Where is Mummy?’ she wailed, all confidence gone. ‘Why hasn’t she found us?’ She began to cry and Georgie stretched up and put her arms around her and patted her back and said, ‘There, there, darling. It’ll soon be all right,’ just like their mummy did when they were upset.
‘Why don’t we ask Betty to help?’ Georgie suggested. They both talked to the little dog explaining that they needed her to take them home. Calling her name, making her bark each time cheered them slightly, gave them hope of being found. They listened and what they heard frightened them and they clung to Betty and begged her to be quiet.
There were sounds of someone approaching, and lights flashed across the trees distorting them, making strange shapes and moving patterns that made the wood an alien place, filled, so Bobbie believed, full of bad people.
‘We have to be quiet, ‘ Bobbie warned her sister. ‘The wood is full of bad people who want to hurt us.’
‘Mummy will come and chase them away, won’t she?’ Georgie whispered. They knelt down behind a tree, hugging the dog when they saw shafts of lights waving through the branches. They were coming closer, then they heard something coming through the undergrowth behind them. They screamed in fright, screams turning to sobs until Digby the farm dog ran up to them in great excitement. He was closely followed by Sam, hidden at first by the light of his powerful torch.
It wasn’t until he spoke that they began to be reassured. Then there were other lights and other voices and there was Zena and soon after and with everyone shouting in excitement and the girls howling with relief, Mummy was there. And everything was all right.
As so often, Nelda’s first reaction was tearful relief, a close second, again as so often, was to scold and threaten with what would happen if they behaved so badly again. She carried Georgie, Greg carried Bobbie and they made their tearful way back to SunnyBank. Karen reached for the phone to tell the police, then Sam’s father, they were found and were unharmed.
‘I can’t understand why Betty didn’t bark,’ Zena said, as they sat feasting on hot toast and cocoa.
‘We kept her quiet with these,’ Bobbie said, showing a handful of biscuit crumbs from her pocket.
‘Don’t ever do that again,’ Zena warned. ‘If you ever wander off again, we can always find you with Betty’s help.’
It took a while to get the girls ready to leave, with the girls recovering from their fright and beginning to enjoy telling their story to the patient Mr Dove. Finally they were gone and Lottie turned to the man for whom they had searched for so long, hoping so desperately to learn something about Ronald’s money.
‘When my husband died,’ Lottie explained, ‘there was no money in the bank and he’d taken out a mortgage on this house. He said I should talk to a man called Billy Dove, but he didn’t tell me why, or who he was. The missing money was a shock. There was no explanation and I was left to try and clear the debts or sell the house – our home. Can you shed any light on what happened?’
‘I was a policeman for many years and, when I retired, I worked as a private detective.’ He frowned and fidgeted in his chair. ‘I’m a bit troubled about this, Mrs Martin. You see I don’t know how much of ... of your story ... you’ve told your children.’
‘It can’t have been anything to do with the child I had before I married Ronald.’
‘So they do know. That’s a relief. Yes, it was exactly that. Ronald knew, you see and he employed me to try and find out what had happened to the child, just to make sure he was safe and happily settled with his adopted family.’
‘Ronald knew?’
‘A very caring man, your husband. It’s difficult to find an adopted child, the rules are very strict, but with perseverance and a lot of luck, I did find him. From time to time I checked on his progress and Ronald was content that his life was a good one.’
‘He knew. All this time he knew and said nothing. He just watched over him.’ Lottie was tearful and Zena hugged her. In silence they waited for the rest of the story.
‘Your son had a business, but he made an error, expanding too fast, and he was at risk of losing everything. He needed money for a few months, to tide him over the shortfall that would be cleared once two of his properties were sold. The interim was a dangerous time and to help him, Ronald arranged to lend him the money, believing absolutely that the money would be back in his bank in three months.’
‘But it wasn’t
.’
‘It would have been, but unfortunately, your son was involved in an accident and was in hospital for a long time. He left the running of his businesses to his manager who knew nothing about the loan. If he had it would have been settled at once. It wasn’t until quite recently that he found out that the loan hadn’t been repaid. He employed someone like myself to find Ronald, but the man failed to find him. Just a few months ago, they contacted me.
‘I will go to see him tomorrow and everything will be sorted. Of that I am sure. Like Ronald, your son is an honourable man, Mrs Martin.’
‘Will I be allowed to meet him?’ Lottie asked. ‘Please don’t ask if you have any doubts. It’s enough to know he’s had a good life and is an “honourable man”. And I wouldn’t wish to upset his parents – the people who brought him up.’
‘If I think it’s advisable, I will ask how he feels about meeting you.’
They were all very subdued after a taxi had driven Billy Dove back to his hotel. Thoughts whirled, curiosity about the lost brother making pictures in their minds. Sadness and joy jumbled in equal quantities as they envisaged meeting this stranger and welcoming him into the family. That they would actually meet was doubtful, they all knew that, but they dreamed about it anyway.
Greg went to help at Mabs’s night café and Lottie went with him. While Greg set the tables and prepared food, Lottie told Mabs all they had learned. Mabs hadn’t known about the baby until the outburst from Rose and was sad, having no children of her own. She imagined the years they would have enjoyed watching the child grow but she hid her sadness from Lottie and instead praised the people who had adopted him. ‘You couldn’t have wished for anything more from the sound of it,’ she said encouragingly. ‘He was a part of a loving family and, according to all you’ve learned, he had a very good start in life.’
‘The saddest thing is that Ronald knew. We could have talked about him and mourned together. I could have admitted the guilt I still feel at parting with him. Instead I’ve hidden my secret and all these years he must have been waiting for me to tell him.’
The End of a Journey Page 29