The word obsession wasn’t spoken but it hovered in the air and made Lowri even more convinced. ‘I want to go back and look again,’ she said.
‘No! You have to keep away from there, and you must stop fantasizing about being your father’s saviour, riding to the rescue on a white stallion!’
That made Lowri smile. ‘Is that what I’ve been imagining?’ she said with a wry smile. ‘Then heaven help my poor father. I can’t even ride.’
‘Promise me you won’t go there again.’ Seeing the determination on Lowri’s face, she added weakly, ‘At least, not on your own.’
‘I can’t get there without a long walk. On top of everything else, I’ve lost Kitty’s bicycle.’
Kitty called to see how she was after her ordeal and she had news. ‘The police found my bike,’ she told them. ‘Down by Treweather’s old farmhouse it was. They think someone was walking home and couldn’t resist the chance of a ride.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Lowri said. ‘I’m so sorry I lost it.’
‘Don’t worry. And if you want to borrow it again, you know where it is. But not for anything dangerous, mind.’
‘I’ve been warning her about going off on her own,’ Marion said, pouring tea for Kitty. ‘She has to forget trying to do better than the police, and get on with her life.’
‘Sorry I am, but she’s right,’ Kitty said. ‘Now in future, if you want to go off exploring, tell Bob and he’ll go with you if you can’t persuade that handsome young man of yours.’
‘Which handsome young man would that be?’ Lowri asked. ‘Ken’s parents weren’t exactly welcoming when I met them, so I doubt whether Ken will be around much longer. Another false friend,’ she added with a sigh.
*
Betty Connors was less than pleased with her new barman but was hesitant to ask him to leave in case she couldn’t find a replacement. When Ernie was there he worked fast and efficiently and was good with the customers, but he was almost always late and regularly asked to leave early as he had an ‘occasion’ to attend. On most days she had to do most of the clearing up and setting up and Ernie would run in, bending double in his haste to get there and clutching his camera and the various leather bags containing equipment, apologizing and promising to make up the time.
It was Colin who finally alerted her to what these ‘occasions’ were.
‘Have you seen the way he’s always taking snaps of us in the bar and around the streets?’ he asked her one day.
‘I know he’s keen on photography, he never moves without his camera.’
‘Then he finds out who the people are and knocks on doors and tries to sell copies,’ Colin said. ‘Pesters a bit he does.’
‘What a cheek.’ Then she laughed. ‘I think he hopes to earn a living from his photographs and he’s using us to get himself started. So these “occasions” of his are weddings?’
‘And coach parties setting off on a day trip. And even funerals,’ Bob added.
‘That seems a bit tactless to me,’ commented Betty.
‘I don’t think he gets bookings, even for weddings. He just goes along and snaps away, taking less formal shots that the professionals don’t bother to take, then offers them for sale. Bit of an embarrassment for some of the grieving families,’ Bob said.
‘I’ll have a word, but only about his bad timekeeping. What he does outside The Ship is nothing to do with me.’
‘Someone came to see you one day while you were out, Ernie took a photograph of him. Want to see it?’
Betty looked at the black and white study of the man she only knew as Alun. He was standing at the bar, a glass in his hand and he was talking to Colin.
‘He’s the man who helped me when I fell down in the cellar,’ she said.
‘Thought it was him. There aren’t many men that big and with such a wild beard. D’you know who he is? He dealt with the lunchtime crowd like an expert. Pity he doesn’t want a job as your barman, eh?’
Ernie was apologetic when Betty spoke to him about his unreliability. ‘Sorry I am, but I want to get myself known to the local papers. The photographer they have now is getting old and I want to be his replacement.’
‘That’s fine, but while you work for me, you have to work the hours I pay you for, right?’
‘I’ll do my best,’ he promised half-heartedly. ‘But these wedding and funerals are rarely in the afternoon. And I’m thinking of doing the dinner dances and the like. They’re popular and most people like a memento of the occasion.’
‘Fine,’ Betty said again. ‘But not if you’re working at The Ship.’
‘What if I work on a casual basis, come when I can?’
Betty went to the till and counted out his wages. ‘All or nothing,’ she said and he took the money and his insurance forms and left. What she had intended to be a reprimand had ended with her being once again without a barman.
*
Marion went to see Dic at the shop, where he sat working on a model of a small rowing boat. ‘I suppose you know Lowri believed it was you who locked her in the hut?’ she said at once.
Dic put down the half-finished boat and stared at her. ‘Surely not! I’d never do anything to hurt her, she must know that?’
‘I’m worried,’ she told him. ‘You know how I feel about this crusade of hers. It’s time Lowri gave up hoping for a reprieve for her father, it’s distorted her thinking for too long. I’ve always believed it better that Lowri kept away from you and your family, to start again and make new friends, but it isn’t happening. She’s obviously in distress and there’s no sign of it ending. Because of her determination to tell everyone she meets that he’s innocent, she isn’t making friends. Can’t you help her?’
‘When she believes it was me who locked her in that hut? That I attacked her and frightened her? No, Marion. Sadly, Lowri will have to come to an understanding in her own time.’
She could see he was distressed. ‘You won’t even try?’
‘When she needs me I’ll be here, but I think she will have to come looking for me. Perhaps Ken’s the one to help her?’
‘She won’t see him, either. His mother made it clear that she didn’t want the family mixing with “criminals”. He’s apologized but she’s incapable of forgiveness, she thinks the whole world is against her.’
‘I’m very fond of Lowri and it makes me sad to see her unhappy, but at present I can’t do anything. If I try to see her I’ll make everything worse and I have to think of the children. I don’t want Katie and Sarah-Jane upset by arguments and accusations. So I’m keeping away.’
Aware that was his final word, Marion went to see Ken, who didn’t offer much hope either.
*
On a sudden whim that Wednesday, her half-day, Lowri borrowed Kitty’s bicycle and went back to the lonely shepherd’s hut. Leaving the bicycle as before, under the bramble bush, now covered with hard green fruit, promising a good harvest. With a torch and spare battery, not knowing what she intended to do, she walked towards the spot from where she would have her first view of the building. She was afraid but knew she had to face her devils and go back.
From the chimney, which was built of stone on the outside of the walls, a thin column of smoke rose up into the sky. She stopped, filled with fear that made it impossible to run. Slowly she calmed down. What should she do? She dared not go inside and neither did she want to meet anyone who was using it. But she had come to confront her fear and standing here wouldn’t achieve that.
Showing courage on her face that she didn’t feel, she walked towards the door. She knocked, and in a loud voice, called, ‘Who’s there?’ The door opened she was suddenly face to face with Dic.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded, backing away from the door.
‘The same as you presumably. Looking for whatever made someone lock you in.’
‘There’s smoke coming from the chimney.’
‘That’s nothing to do with me. I think someone stayed here last night. Not a sh
epherd though,’ he said, smiling. ‘There’s a box of fishing bait and a few hooks here, so it’s most likely to have been a fisherman, just like your father and mine.’ He stared at her pointedly and added, ‘There’s a strong smell in here of mud and dead fish, but not from me.’ He stepped out and walked a few paces towards her. ‘I’ll leave if you want to look inside.’
A memory of the man leaping at her and holding her face into the earth overwhelmed her and she backed further away. He was so familiar and she wanted to run to him, be comforted, but she mustn’t succumb to those feelings. She was no longer a child and he was no longer a friend. Turning away, she hurried off.
‘Wait, Lowri. Come back and talk to me.’
‘Go inside you mean? So you can lock me in again?’ She began to run. When she was brave enough to look back, he was standing by the doorway, a look of such disappointment on his face that she almost turned back. The bicycle was where she had left it and she rode to Badgers Brook and locked herself in. This was where she felt safe and brave and defiant. Comfort oozed from its walls, its constant gentle warmth relaxed her, knowing the house was keeping all dangers at bay.
*
Ken called at the post office the following morning where Lowri was serving the regular Thursday customers, and stood talking to Stella until the shop emptied. Then he came across, reached for her hands that were busy restoring order after the busy hour, and held them. ‘Come out with me tonight. I want to get a few things clear,’ he said.
‘I’ll make some tea, and there’s a few cakes and Colin’s got to get ready for work and Scamp will want his walk…’ Stella babbled in the background as she disappeared into the living room behind the shop leaving them alone.
‘We keep getting distracted,’ Ken said, ‘and I know we can be friends, loving friends, if only we can clear our way though the tangle of other people’s problems.’
‘Like my father’s, you mean?’
‘Like your father’s,’ he agreed. ‘I’m sympathetic, but I know that you can do nothing to help. You just have to deal with it and, quite honestly, I believe that’s the best way of helping him too.’ Without waiting for agreement, he left, promising to be at Badgers Brook at seven.
‘Good friends you’ve got here in Cwm Derw,’ Stella gently warned Lowri, ‘don’t push them away. Meet Ken and don’t try to untangle the tangles, just treat him as a friend, enjoy his company and be happy. It’s what we all want for you.’
‘Untangle the tangles?’ Lowri gave a crooked smile. ‘You were listening, weren’t you?’
‘Of course I was. Can’t miss the chance of a bit of romance, can I?’
So when Ken called that evening, they went for a walk. After a talk in which they were both honest, they returned to Badgers Brook more relaxed. She wanted to see him again and he had made it clear it was what he wanted too, despite the attitude of his parents.
‘I can’t give up on my father,’ she told him. ‘And how can I cope with your parents’ attitude?’
‘I don’t pretend to believe your father’s case,’ he said, ‘but I’ll help with any enquires you want to make.’
She wondered if she could settle for that. ‘Do you believe that I was locked in that hut?’
‘Of course I do. But like Marion, I don’t see that the incident is anything to do with your father.’ With an arm around her shoulders holding her close, he went on, ‘Let your father serve his sentence and then he can search for the truth.’
They learned a lot about each other during their discussion and were surprised to realize they both enjoyed dancing. So, over the next few weeks, they saw much of each other and had great fun out dancing. It seemed that Lowri’s life was improving.
Although there was no second invitation to visit Ken’s parents, Lowri asked how they were, and he talked about them naturally. Gradually she began to unwind the tensions she had suffered for so long. Being more relaxed in Ken’s company helped her to open up to others, and made it easier for others to treat her normally. She was aware of being happy and she glowed.
They went to a big dressy dance in a ballroom one evening and she wore a new dress: red, fairly low cut and with a skirt that clung to her hips before flaring out at the hem. It had been expensive, one of Nerys Bowen’s top of the range. That night she and Ken won a spot prize. In the middle of a quick step the music stopped and the dancers stood still. The room was darkened apart from a spotlight that was shining on their excited faces. The compère led the applause as the lights came back and he walked towards them with a bottle of wine for Ken and a bouquet of roses for Lowri.
It had been a wonderful evening. She and Ken had walked out of the hall with congratulations following them and when they reached the car their kiss was like no other. It cemented their relationship and as summer rolled on they became inseparable. Ken would be waiting for her each Wednesday and on Sunday they would spend the day together.
She managed to tear herself away from him to visit her mother twice. She saw nothing of Dic and his absence carried sadness too. She missed him and wished things hadn’t gone so terribly wrong between them. Like her father, she had to accept there was no chance of a reprieve there either.
One Sunday afternoon, when Marion was visiting her family, Ken came to Badgers Brook for lunch. He was less animated than usual. Instead of sharing incidents at work, making her laugh at some of the things he and his staff had dealt with, he was formal and over-polite, so much so that her heart began to fill with dread. He was going to tell her it was over, he didn’t want to see her again.
In reaction her own attitude became less easy. She served the coffee and took the dishes into the kitchen, filled the sink with hot water from the large kettle that stood beside the fire, implying that he had outstayed his welcome, that she was impatient for him to leave.
‘Is something wrong?’ he asked, carrying the coffee back and putting it on the big kitchen table. He took her arm and coaxed her to sit beside him. ‘Has something happened?’
‘Like what for example?’
‘Have you and Dic renewed your friendship?’
‘Hardly. In fact, I’ve been wondering if you had something on your mind. Is everything all right?’
‘I hope so.’
The vagueness of his reply didn’t reassure her. ‘Perhaps we should forgo the walk we’d planned and make it another day.’
‘Do you want to?’ Then he gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Come on, Lowri, we can talk around each other in circles like this all afternoon! Let’s go on that walk!’ He helped clear the dishes and they set off across the lane and through the wood.
Lowri was still uneasy, expecting him to explain why he didn’t want to see her again. She went through the past week in her mind, remembering the fun they’d had at the community hall where they had danced to records, and on the Saturday at the more dressy affair where they had been a rather fine band playing. Had she said something he might have misunderstood? She had worn her beautiful red dress and knew it had been wrong for the local dance at the small church hall. Had she embarrassed him? Shown a lack of taste? Surely he’d have told her, not decided to leave her? Preparing a response in her mind, determined not to show her hurt, wondering what he would say, how he would tell her ‘goodbye’. As though the words had already been said, she walked a distance away from him, stopping to look at the berries beginning to swell on the hawthorn and the ripening sloes on the blackthorn.
‘This way,’ he called, changing direction. She followed him to the spot above the hill, looking down on the building site that was once Treweather’s farm. ‘There are some small bungalows for sale,’ he told her. ‘Shall we go and look?’
Surprised, but curious enough to want to see for herself what was being built, she walked with him down the hill to where the old farmhouse still stood. Beside it was the tumbled remains of a farmworker’s cottage, now without a roof and about to be demolished. The bungalows were across a field and Ken went over and spoke to the watchman. He was expecting K
en and invited them to go inside the most complete bungalow, while he stood outside the door.
They admired the neat, two-bedroom property while trying to imagine it complete and without the chaos of mud and rubble and piles of materials in what would one day be the garden.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Lowri said. ‘So modern and, once it’s cleaned up, it will be so easy to run.’
‘Could you imagine living here?’
‘Oh yes. Anyone would be thrilled to own a home like this.’
‘Marry me,’ Ken said.
‘What did you say?’
‘I said marry me. I have the option to buy this, I only have to get your approval and it’s ours.’
‘I thought you were going to tell me “goodbye”.’
‘Lowri, I’ll never say goodbye. I want us to raise a family and grow old together.’
‘And your parents? Are they happy about this?’
‘They don’t matter. Your parents, my parents, they don’t have to be consulted. It’s what you and I want. I love you, Lowri. Marry me and we’ll have a family of our own.’ He smiled and stepped towards her, about to take her in his arms. He was shocked when she stepped back and shook her head.
‘I can’t marry you.’
‘But I thought… Don’t you feel the same way as me?’
‘What about your parents? I can’t marry you without their approval. At least their acceptance of me. Can you imagine what a wedding it would be? My father in prison, my mother in tears wishing he were there, and your parents refusing to turn up? It would be a farce.’
‘All right, then what about a register office wedding with all our friends there to wish us luck? What’s wrong with that?’
False Friends Page 18