False Friends

by False Friends (retail) (epub)

  Conversation increased as the meal was served and she tried to put her serious thoughts aside. She was sitting between Ken and his father and when Mr Hardy asked a question about the clothes the factory produced, the problem re-emerged and she was torn between what she wanted to do and her need to be honest. Ken nudged her, teasing her for being lost in her daydreams. Her mind in turmoil, she had allowed too much time to elapse after the question was asked. She apologized and tried to smile, but the smile was stiff and she felt her cheeks protesting at the artificial attempt.

  Her heart began thumping painfully as she knew what she had to do. Surely they would understand? As soon as an opportunity offered, she turned to Ken’s father and said, ‘Of course, you know about my father being in prison, don’t you?’

  In the silence that followed, the echo of her voice sounded completely unlike her own. Trembling, anxious, she turned to look at Ken’s mother, who had dropped her fork and was staring at her husband. Hastily stifled, nervous sniggering came from Geoff and Raymond.

  ‘We did wonder – the name – it isn’t that common… we did wonder,’ Mr Hardy muttered.

  ‘Ken didn’t tell you?’ She looked at Ken who was staring down at the table, unable to meet her eyes. ‘Obviously not. Well, should I leave?’

  This was a chance for them to tell her they understood she wasn’t responsible for her father’s situation. She waited as the stony silence continued, her fork laden with food, glaring first at one then the other. When Mr Hardy finally spoke, he lowered his head and stared at the table as Ken was doing, ‘You can finish your meal first.’

  ‘I seem to have lost my appetite,’ she said, pushing back her chair and rising. ‘Ken, if you’ll take me to the bus stop? Or would you prefer I walk? After all, the daughter of a man wrongly accused of theft isn’t a suitable companion for you, is she?’

  Silently she was handed her coat and gloves and she left without another word.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ken said as he opened the car door for her. ‘I thought it was the best way of dealing with this and expected you to follow my lead.’

  ‘Shut up! Just shut up and drive me home!’ Anger was stronger than the humiliation, and tears were held back until she walked into her bedroom, closed the door and collapsed on to the bed. Then they fell as though they would never stop. False Friend, her mind shouted, repeating the words until she thought she would go crazy. She had never felt such loneliness. How she longed to see her mother and listen to her reassuring voice.

  When Marion came home that evening she came across Lowri huddled up in a chair in front of the fire. She threw on a couple of small logs and stood near her.

  ‘Did Ken meet you?’ she asked Lowri as she removed her coat. ‘How did the visit with his parents go?’

  Lowri shrugged in answer to Marion’s questioning.

  ‘Why didn’t Ken come in?’ Marion asked after putting a plate of sandwiches in front of Lowri.

  ‘Ken is no longer around.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘The usual. He hadn’t told his parents about Dad and when I did, well, I didn’t stay any longer than it took for them to hand me my coat.’

  ‘Ken’s an idiot if he allows what happened to your father to get between you.’

  ‘Will it always be like this? Friends until they find out about Dad? False friends?’

  ‘No, not everyone is a false friend.’

  ‘Thank goodness for you,’ Lowri said as she smiled weakly. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you for a friend.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Marion assured her. Then she smiled. ‘At least, not until that man of mine divorces his wife, eh?’

  *

  On the following Wednesday, with summer flowers giving a heartening display in many gardens, Lowri set off for a walk. She went straight from the post office, a pack of sandwiches brought from home in her bag. She was miserable and unaware of the summer day, with the trees displaying their summer greenery and the ever present daisies and buttercups spreading their beautiful covering over the fields; wild pansies showed their shy faces amid the grasses and she saw none of it.

  She went to a corner of a field and sat near the gate to eat her sandwiches, wishing she’d thought to bring a flask of coffee, smiling as she thought of Connie Tanner, who never went anywhere without a picnic.

  Packing the wrappings into her pocket she hurried on to where she knew Gaynor Dallow lived. She had since realized that a small baby could hardly be Ellis Owen’s, his death had been too long ago. How stupid she had been. Dic would have realized at once if she had mentioned the child’s age. But she still wanted to talk to her. Simply by knowing the man, Gaynor might have something to add to the little she knew about him. She wasn’t sure what she would say, but she hoped that during a conversation she might glean a few clues. Any contact, however fragile, must be worth investigating.

  She knocked on the door of the rather smart semi in a village called Nant Mel-Honeybrook, named she was told, from the colour of the water as it flowed over the yellow stones.

  ‘Hello, Lowri! It’s a very long time since I saw you. Come in.’

  Relieved that she was remembered, and that didn’t have to make an excuse to be invited in, Lowri went inside the attractive living room and took the chair she was offered.

  ‘How is your father? So sorry I was to hear about his troubles. And is your Mam coping all right?’

  ‘Dad apparently looks like an old man. He’s accepted his sentence, given up hope of his innocence being proved, although I haven’t. And Mam, she’s amazing. So very brave. She’s bought a house and has paying guests to help pay the mortgage. Lucky to get one, they aren’t keen to give mortgages to single women. It was because it was a business, I believe.’

  ‘What a tragedy it all was. To think that Ellis Owen died in the sea! So ironic. He was a strong swimmer and an expert in small boats and canoes. He’d always been so confident in his ability to take the sea on under any circumstances.’

  ‘Dad tried to save him you know.’

  ‘I believe that too.’

  ‘Thank you. Can we talk about Ellis Owen and my father for a while? There might be something that will help my father. Some small, unimportant memory.’

  ‘Of course. This must be very hard for you.’

  ‘Worse for my parents. As for me, the people in Cwm Derw are very kind and understanding, but others are not. Almost everyone I once knew shunned me after my father’s arrest. And even recently I’m reminded that in the eyes of the world he’s guilty. I had a friend, Ken Hardy, we were getting on so well, but he took me to meet his parents, and when they realized who I was, well, you can imagine.’

  ‘Why do you want to know about Ellis?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just hope that something will come to light that will clear my father. And I know it’s crazy,’ she added defensively, ‘but I can’t let it drop.’

  ‘I wouldn’t either in your circumstances. Now let me think.’ She frowned as she tried to bring the man to mind. ‘Ellis was a flirt, but I expect you know that. He took me out a couple of times, until I realized he was married. There were others too, although I doubt whether that helps.’

  ‘Anyone more serious?’

  Gaynor frowned. ‘I seem to remember some gossip, but I’d left your father’s firm by then and I can’t remember what happened. He was fond of adventurous sport, did some climbing, but it was the sea he loved. He was either in it, or on it, or at its edge, on the beach or balanced on the craggy cliffs dangling fishing lines into it.’

  A baby began to cry and Gaynor pointed upwards. ‘My son is awake, I’ll have to see to him.’

  ‘Of course. If you think of anything more, will you let me know?’ Lowri said, as she stood to leave. ‘But before I go, can I meet your son?’

  The chubby six-weeks-old Thomas settled in her lap while his mother prepared to change and feed him. As she left, Lowri looked back at the beautiful cameo of the young mother nursing he
r child, afraid that unless she could forget her dream of rescuing her father, it was something she was unlikely to know.

  On the bus heading back to Cwm Derw she passed a school and thought of Dic waiting, as other parents waited, to greet his daughter, holding hands with Katie. She was again overwhelmed with a feeling of loss for something she would never know. Ken had given her hope of living a normal life, but the spectre of her father’s sentence lay over every prospect of that.

  Gaynor was another hope dashed and despite her belief in justice and in her father’s innocence, there was nowhere else to look. She had to give up and try to live a life without this foolish dream. Ken was lost to her and how many others would she turn away before she faced the inescapable truth? Perhaps if she told him of her visit to Gaynor and the feeling of futility she now felt, he might ignore his parents’ attitude and come back to her. The tiny flicker of hope failed to excite her. He had turned away from her and she didn’t think it could ever be the same as it had once been.

  She rang Dic to tell him the result of her visit to Gaynor Dallow. ‘At least things are still coming up, hopes and ideas we haven’t known about – one day we’ll be lucky,’ he said.

  She was determined not to feel depressed and drag others into her gloom, so she straightened her shoulders and increased her speed, and walked along the lane after leaving the phone box, head high. So high, that she didn’t see a fallen branch on the ground. She caught her foot in it and, unable to recover her balance, fell into the arms of Geoff as he and Connie came around the corner.

  ‘Women are always falling for my husband,’ Connie teased, helping Lowri to rise. ‘We’ve just called on you. There’s a Bring and Buy sale in two weeks time, in aid of the NSPCC and we wondered if you’d manage one of the stalls.’

  ‘Monday evening,’ Geoff added. ‘So most people are free to come.’

  ‘Of course, I’d love to help. What if I deal with the “white elephants”, if we can find any,’ she said, referring to the traditional stall for unwanted items. Her heart lightened and she walked on down the lane beside the wood. At least here, in Cwm Derw, she was among friends, she thought, as she hurried home.

  Eight

  Betty Connors had recovered from her fall and she often wondered about the man who came to help her and disappeared without further word. Her brother Ed had helped in between dealing with the guests at his and Elsie’s bed-and-breakfast establishment and some of the regulars contributed by dealing with the deliveries and restacking the boxes and bottles. Marion had done some of the food preparation as well as her usual cleaning duties. None would accept payment and Betty promised them a special evening as soon as she was well enough to cope.

  With Ed she had interviewed several men for the post, and they had chosen a man in his forties with lots of experience called Ernie Bright. He was due to start that day but so far he hadn’t arrived, and she was already having doubts about their choice.

  Since her brother had left The Ship and Compass to live with his wife Elsie and help her to run the bed-and-breakfast, Betty had had several people to take his place, but none had stayed.

  ‘I think it’s partly because most men don’t like working for a woman,’ she said to Bob Jennings as she handed him his first pint of the day.

  ‘I thought that estate agent, young Teifion Dexter, was keen,’ Bob remarked. ‘If his father hadn’t died he might still be here.’

  ‘And there was Daphne Boyd,’ Betty mused sadly. ‘Now she was marvellous, until she went to farm in France. If I could get a young woman like her I wouldn’t say no. But Daphne was an exception, it’s a man I really need, some of the work is quite heavy.’

  ‘There are a few of us who’ll help if you’re stuck,’ Bob reminded her.

  ‘And I’m grateful, Bob. But it’s regular help I need, someone who enjoys the work. Isn’t there anyone out there who needs work?’

  The door opened and a group of builders came in. Betty smiled cheerfully and went to take their order. ‘The usual hot pies?’ she asked, taking the list they had written. Jokingly, she asked, ‘Any of your lot looking for a change and willing to work for a crotchety landlady? I’m looking for someone strong and hard working.’

  The new barman suddenly came rushing in, camera and shoulder bag swinging from his shoulder and a few pieces of photographic wizardry dangling from his hand. Colin shouted out, ‘No point in running now, boy! It’s half an hour late you are.’

  ‘Sorry I am,’ the hot and anxious Ernie said, bent almost double in an attempt to get ahead of himself. ‘I was photographing a heron and forgot the time. Got a picture of him with a fish in his beak. Marvellous it’ll be, if I haven’t spoilt it rushing.’

  With few words, Betty sent him to take off his multi-pocketed jacket and change into a coat he was pulling out of his bag. He accepted the teasing with good will and soon settled into the rhythm of the work. He was pleasant, and quick and, despite his disastrous beginning, Betty had hopes of him.

  *

  Lowri was pleased to have been asked to help at the local fund-raising for the NSPCC. She was accepted here in Cwm Derw and was thankful that not everyone was treating her like a pariah. It would put her father’s plight slightly into the background, at least for a while, as well as helping take her mind away from the disappointment of parting from Ken. She had begun to believe they had a future, until his parents made it clear they didn’t want to open their door to the daughter of a man who was a thief and suspected of murder.

  ‘When will my sentence end?’ she asked Marion, as they were going through things at Badgers Brook for the sale.

  ‘Come on, let’s go through our stuff and see what we can give to the White Elephant stall. No time to worry about Ken. I’m here and I won’t let you down and you have plenty of friends here. Heavens, this place is never empty!’ She patted Lowri’s shoulder and added encouragingly, ‘There’ll be others. Someone more deserving of you, remember that.’

  They made a pile of a few ornaments and unwanted oddments of china in the back bedroom and added to it as they searched their drawers and wardrobes. As she put down a summer jacket that had a torn pocket and a badly stained lapel to the growing collection, Lowri remembered the key she’d replaced in its pocket and took it out.

  From the doorway Marion watched, and asked, ‘What have you found?’

  Lowri’s instinct was to hide it but she was beginning to admit her friends were right and it was time to forget trying to help her father and get on with her life. She held it out on her palm. ‘A key. I found it among Dad’s things and thought for a while it might lead me to something useful in the search for evidence. Mam doesn’t know what it’s for so I might as well throw it away.’

  Going downstairs with the clothes they needed to launder before offering for sale, she took the key and threw it into the bin among the ashes and other rubbish. Later on, she thought better of it and went to retrieve it. She stared at it, a slightly rusty key, little more than an inch long. What could it be for? A shed? A cupboard in a house they no longer owned? Then she frowned, remembering her father’s fishing expeditions with Ellis Owen and Dic’s father, Jack Morris. They had once stored their gear in a hut once used on occasions by shepherds during lambing and shearing. Could that be where it fitted?

  Used by several people, it was hardly a suitable hiding place for anything of value, but unable to ignore even the faintest of hope, she determined to go there and explore. She had a vague idea of where it was situated, remembering rough grassland rising up to craggy hills with rocks protruding through the green surface here and there. At the lower end, cliffs that Ellis had loved to climb fell sharply to the sea below. She pressed the key into her hand, leaving its indentation clearly marked, and wondered if there would be something to find, or whether it would be yet more hopes dashed. She knew she had to try.

  She was surprised a few minutes later, when Marion carried out more unwanted rubbish, to see her friend digging around in the ash bin. Was she trying to
retrieve the key?

  If so, did it mean she knew its purpose? She opened the door and stepped out. ‘Lost something, Marion?’

  ‘Yes, a teaspoon. We have eight and I can only find seven. I must have thrown it out by mistake. Come and help me find it will you?’

  They pulled faces as they moved the unpleasant mixture about and when Dic came through the gate and saw them, he laughed. ‘What on earth are you two doing? Your faces are a picture!’ He found a stick and helped them and the spoon was eventually recovered.

  Lowri looked at the key after scrubbing her hands and wondered whether Marion had really been trying to find the spoon, which she could easily have hidden as an excuse. Aware of being neurotic and foolish, she nevertheless said nothing to Marion about having retrieved the key. Closing her bedroom door, she hid the key again in a corner other wardrobe, wrapped in a sock and tucked into a Wellington boot. She felt ashamed of suspecting Marion of… of what? She wasn’t at all sure. There was just a feeling that it was too soon to give up, and that the fewer people who shared her thoughts the better.

  She didn’t believe for a moment that Marion had been implicated in her father’s arrest, of course she didn’t, that would be nonsense; but Marion would talk to others, who in turn would pass it on, and if there was something to find…? As though to make up for her unwillingness to share confidences with Marion, she was extra nice, insisting on cooking the meal and clearing away afterwards.

  Dic stayed and offered to carry anything they couldn’t manage to the sale for them. He caught Lowri’s eye a few times and guessed there was something she wanted to tell him. It was late; too late to suggest a walk. Whatever it was would have to wait until next time.

  Like the rest of Lowri’s friends he wished she would stop dwelling on her father’s situation. She was young and lovely and shouldn’t be wasting her life on this nebulous, fragile dream. However hard she tried, it was bound to end in failure and disappointment. The police had found evidence and a court had found him guilty. Sad but undeniable. He longed to hold her, comfort her and help her through the years ahead, but that was a dream as impossible as hers.