The Tangled Web

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The Tangled Web Page 13

by The Tangled Web (retail) (epub)


  ‘They were frightened, Roy. They’ve never had anything to do with the police before, you see, and it unnerved them.’

  ‘They knew I was just out of prison, didn’t they? They must have guessed I’d be a prime suspect for anything that happens. The police didn’t proceed with their enquiries, did they? That’s because they couldn’t prove I’d done it! Because I hadn’t,’ he emphasised. ‘And there’s your Mam and Dad acting like I was tried and found guilty. It’s so unfair, Gill.’

  ‘You can’t blame them. You did lapse, didn’t you, Roy? That time I waited up for you to explain that money? Those robberies where you were seen by that old man?’

  ‘All that started because I went for a walk. Ask Amanda, she’ll tell you I’ve always done that when I’m restless. I just went out for some air because I couldn’t sleep. Insomniac I am, and what a bad thing that is for someone trying to go straight. Temptation never leaves me, you know. Every day I have to fight it off and all on my own too. If I could get into bed with you beside me, Gill, I’d never want to go out at night, believe me!’ He kissed her, watching to make sure he wasn’t observed by the two listening to The Archers, which had passed its eight hundredth episode, and whispered, ‘Blimey, Gill, what a thrill that was, coming back from my wanderings that night and seeing you waiting for me on the bed. I told you your Mam and Dad were heavy sleepers, didn’t I?’

  Encouraged by her smile as she remembered their kisses and making up after his confession, he went on, ‘It won’t always be like this, Gill. The police’ll get fed up of looking for me every time something happens.’

  ‘I suppose they will forget you eventually, and find someone else to hound. Then our life will be free of these embarrassments. Sorry about Mam and Dad, but they didn’t expect midnight bangs on the door.’

  ‘They should have. Dammit, the Probation Officer made it all very clear, tried to warn them what it would be like and all they did was smile and convince themselves that they’d make everything all right and be able to boast about how they’d saved a lost soul!’

  ‘All right, they were told, but the police coming at night was still a shock. They didn’t really expect it to happen.’

  ‘That’s what got to my sister, you know. I’m beginning to understand how she felt, now I’m on the straight.’

  ‘Would you like to go and see her, now you feel less bitter towards her?’ Gillian asked.

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t have the money. After a couple of trips to the pictures and paying your Mam for my keep, and it’s little enough she asks for, bless her, well, it doesn’t leave much for bus fares and visiting.’

  ‘Perhaps in the summer. It’ll be a pleasant day out for us then.’

  But Roy didn’t intend to be staying with Gillian and her miserable parents when summer came. He was free, he had money and he had plans.

  * * *

  Storms prevented Amanda from moving far from the cottage over the following days. The wind lashed at the trees and threatened to take the door off its hinges every time it was opened, like a ferocious animal venting its spite on everything in its path. Rain filled the gutters and poured down the paths.

  On Sunday it abated, leaving a tranquillity that made the ferocity of the past days seem impossible. Amanda gathered up broken branches and twigs from the garden and tied up fallen shrubs. Then she decided a walk would be a good idea after days of being indoors.

  ‘I expect the stream is flooded,’ she said to Catrin. ‘I’ll go and search along the banks for frogspawn before it rains again. I can still take the children later.’

  Carrying one of Catrin’s buckets and wearing a pair of wellingtons belonging to Philip, much to Catrin’s amusement, she set off for Rhys’s bungalow. She knocked on the door more from politeness than for the need to tell Rhys what she was doing. She had made up her mind she would trouble him as little as possible.

  To her surprise the door was opened, not by Rhys, but by Jessica Maybury, looking very glamorous and casual in a fur-trimmed negligee.

  ‘Rhys is away at present,’ Jessica said in a bored voice, ‘Can I give him a message?’

  ‘No, it doesn’t matter,’ Amanda said, conscious of her ridiculous appearance. ‘I’ve come to collect a few things from the stream. I won’t disturb you.’ She turned away and made for the back of the house as quickly as she was able in the ridiculous wellingtons.

  She was angry. So that was why Rhys had been at such pains to explain that she shouldn’t become too interested in him! He needn’t have bothered. She was perfectly happy to ignore him completely!

  She threw the bucket onto the grass near the stream and glared at it. Why had she decided to make a pond for the school? It was a silly idea. These children weren’t townies who would never have the chance to discover such things for themselves.

  Tempting as it was to return home and forget the whole thing, she walked on, squelching through the muddy edge, searching along the high-water mark where the damp conditions were likely places for the jelly-like spawn.

  Among the debris left by the swollen stream she found a few of the speckled mounds and put them in her bucket. She forced her mind to stay away from Jessica Maybury but could not resist glancing back as she headed for the gate.

  Standing in the window watching her, the figure of the young woman was clearly seen and Amanda thought she was wringing her hands as if in anxiety. Does she want me out of the way before Rhys comes back? Amanda wondered. Well, she can wait.

  Dawdling, glancing occasionally at the watcher at the window, Amanda walked through the shallower parts of the stream, collecting a few pieces of wood here, a couple of handfuls of weed there. A couple of large stones were lifted and carried under her arm; they would be needed for the baby frogs to rest on later.

  When she eventually reached the gate, Jessica opened the front door and called, ‘What did you say your name was?’

  Amanda unwillingly walked back. ‘Clifford. Amanda Clifford. But I might be related to the Beynon family. I just don’t know.’

  Jessica looked her over, a curious expression on her lovely face. There was more to be said, but Amanda wondered irritably how long she was expected to stand, holding a muddy bucket and a couple of rocks, while Jessica decided whether or not to say it.

  ‘You’re from round here?’ Jessica asked.

  ‘I might be.’ Amanda shrugged. She began to experience a growing impatience. She wasn’t sure she wanted to discuss her situation with Rhys’s girlfriend. She nodded a vague goodbye and began to leave.

  ‘Just a minute. Maybe I can help.’

  ‘Help me? How?’

  Jessica stared as before but still seemed unwilling to speak.

  Amanda gave a loudly audible sigh. There was no way she wanted to be here talking to Jessica when Rhys returned. She still smarted with embarrassment when she remembered how clearly he had told her he didn’t want her. Another confrontation, especially in front of Jessica, would ruin the pleasure of moving into the cottage entirely.

  ‘You’re looking for relations, aren’t you?’ Jessica said eventually.

  ‘You’ve already told me you don’t know anything.’

  Amanda’s simmering anger was suddenly dissipated as she saw real distress on the woman’s face. There was something to say. Breathlessly she waited. Jessica began twisting her hands together nervously.

  ‘I’m distantly related to the Beynon family and you might be a member of the family too.’ The words seemed to choke her and Amanda frowned.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ she asked.

  ‘The connection – if there is one – is very distant.’

  Putting down the messy bucket, Amanda stepped nearer. ‘Could you remember some names, or dates, anything that might give me a lead?’

  ‘Tell me about yourself,’ Jessica asked, ignoring the question. ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Twenty-three.’

  ‘What do you do, you’re a teacher aren’t you?’

  Amanda nod
ded. ‘About the names, I’ve drawn a complete blank. My only hope is Aunt Flora’s sister, Gwen, who lived in America. If you know of any cousins it would help.’

  All the time she spoke, Amanda felt the words were not being heard. The woman shrugged and, still without responding, went towards the doorway. ‘Sorry,’ she said as the door closed on her. ‘I don’t think our families are connected after all.’

  Amanda picked up the disreputable bucket and walked away. She was fuming at the off-hand way she had been treated. But as she approached the cottage the anger again died. There was something odd in the way Jessica had studied her. Anxiety had been visible in the lovely eyes and in the twisting hands.

  ‘If there’s anything to learn it’s unlikely she’ll tell me,’ Amanda said to Catrin and Philip later, when she had told them of her strange encounter.

  ‘Sorry to say it, dear,’ Catrin said, ‘but this woman might simply be what we used to call a nosy parker, just curious about you and wanting to find out more.’

  ‘And nosy parkering is something at which I was once an expert,’ Philip said, ‘so I’ll see if I still have the touch.’

  Amanda looked puzzled until Catrin elaborated. ‘Philip was once a very successful news reporter. Until about five years ago in fact.’

  ‘I still have a few contacts,’ he said. ‘A phone call or two wouldn’t hurt.’

  ‘Why did you change from a news reporter to a bus driver in a small Welsh village?’ Amanda asked.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ he said. ‘I’ve told Catrin most of it and perhaps one day she’ll tell you.’

  Catrin looked sad. She did know most of the story and this was why she had such sympathy for Philip and also why Rhys, who knew only a part of it, resented him so much.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Amanda said at once. ‘I didn’t mean to pry!’

  ‘You weren’t. There’s a deal of difference in being interested and being—’

  ‘A nosy parker,’ she finished for him and they all laughed.

  The subject was dropped but Amanda remained curious. Philip was an enigma and, although he didn’t attract her in the way Rhys did, she liked him and couldn’t help wondering why he had left his chosen career.

  ‘It was a combination of several things, I believe,’ Catrin told her later. ‘His wife couldn’t cope with the constant absences and they parted. Then they realised his wife was pregnant and he gave up the career he loved and tried to make a success of his marriage. It didn’t work and he left, taking the child with him for a month or two when his wife was ill. The child went back to her and there was Philip, having lost not only his wife, his home and child but his work as well.’

  ‘Where is his wife now?’

  ‘That’s something he’ll never talk about.’

  ‘What a pity he gave up his job.’

  ‘I think he’s content now. He’s well liked by most of the people in the village and seems to have accepted his new life. A man like that needs a very special woman. A special kind of love.’

  Amanda’s thoughts immediately turned to Rhys. ‘Rhys dislikes him, doesn’t he?’

  ‘They knew each other years ago, but – well, you know how impossible it is to persuade a man to talk, yet we chatter merrily all day.’

  ‘Yes,’ Amanda said, ‘and it’s well past time for supper!’ She knew Catrin was being evasive and didn’t want to risk that one question too many that can cause embarrassment, so she went out and clattered the dishes and sang a cheerful song.

  That evening she wrote one of her regular letters to Roy. She didn’t receive any in return but went on writing, giving him news of her new class and the various people she had met. Each letter ended with a list of questions about him to which she begged a reply, but weeks passed and none came. She felt guilty at not inviting him to come and see her, but she knew he could easily ruin everything if he became a regular visitor and news of how he had spent most of his youth was revealed.

  From mutual friends, she gathered he was still living with Gillian Harris and her parents and she hoped it would turn out to be the pivot that turned him away from crime. There were more juvenile than adult criminals she had read, so some of them must change, she thought hopefully.

  The pond display in school was a great success but she didn’t suggest taking the children through Rhys’s garden to explore the stream. She averted her eyes each time she passed his bungalow. If Rhys and Jessica were having an affair she would rather not watch it happen.

  She still pictured Jessica watching her as she scrabbled about in the stream; a still figure apart from her twisting hands, looking glamorous yet melancholy in the fur-trimmed negligee. Just thinking of the contrast with herself clambering about in muddy water filled her with embarrassment.

  A few weeks passed without a sign of either Rhys or Jessica until on a Sunday morning in late March, without warning, they both arrived.

  ‘You remember Jessica?’ Rhys said. ‘She’s been staying at the bungalow when I’ve been away.’

  ‘Yes, would you believe, the chimney pot was blown down during those frightfully scary gales and took some slates off my roof. I was petrified, wasn’t I Rhys darling?’

  Amanda disappeared into the kitchen to make coffee. Rhys and Catrin had automatically led Jessica into the lounge and turned on a fire for her. I’m a person for whom the kitchen will do, she fumed to herself. But Miss High and Mighty Maybury mustn’t be offered anything but the best! She slammed the coffee pot onto the table and glared at it. ‘I hope your coffee spills all over you,’ she muttered.

  ‘What are you doing, talking to yourself?’ Rhys asked, entering the kitchen without her seeing him.

  ‘I’m telling the coffee to hurry up,’ she said angrily. ‘Don’t you ever talk to inanimate objects?’

  ‘All right,’ he laughed, putting up a hand to ward off an imaginary blow. ‘I only asked!’

  She handed him a bag of biscuits and pointed to a plate. ‘Open these, will you, while I get the cups.’

  ‘Does Jessica make you so angry?’ There was amusement in his voice.

  ‘No. Why should she? It’s just that Catrin and I were just going for a walk and now we’ll have to postpone it.’

  ‘Aw, what a pity,’ he teased.

  She pushed past him, taking the tray of cups into the lounge where Catrin and Jessica were sitting in uneasy silence. When she returned to the kitchen, Rhys was sitting in Catrin’s favourite chair near the fire.

  ‘What have you been doing while I’ve been away?’ he asked. ‘Have you learnt anything about your family?’

  ‘Oh, I think I’ll forget it,’ she said. ‘I appeared from nowhere and the stories about gooseberry bushes are true after all.’

  He chuckled and reached out to take her hand. ‘I missed you while I was away. Did you miss me a little?’

  ‘Yes. I had to collect bugs and things and you could have carried my bucket.’ She was using humour to ease the hurt of seeing him with Jessica.

  ‘I did have a report of someone creeping about in my garden one day.’

  ‘That was me, looking like an abandoned boot.’ She gestured towards the other room and added, ‘And her in there looked like she’d just got back from a beauty parlour.’

  ‘She probably had. That’s where she spends a lot of her time!’

  ‘She’s very beautiful,’ Amanda admitted painfully.

  ‘So are you. Even in someone else’s wellingtons.’

  She turned to look at him. His face was serious, no smile to show he was teasing. He pulled her gently towards him and kissed her. She looked into his eyes and saw reflected there a longing as strong as her own. She moved towards him again, her lips reaching for his, then a peal of laughter reached them from the other room. She jerked away from him, the reminder he was not alone shocking her from the moment of love.

  ‘Hadn’t we better return to your girlfriend?’ she asked.

  His grip on her tightened. ‘Amanda,’ he said urgently. ‘Why are you so distant? I’
ve been away, aren’t you glad to see me back?’

  ‘Jessica is waiting for her coffee.’ She tore herself away and began attending to the percolator, but her hands shook and he took it from her.

  ‘Careful,’ he said, ‘you’ll be spilling it in someone’s lap if you don’t calm down.’

  ‘That’s fine, as long as it’s the right lap!’ She was disconcerted to hear his chuckle as he followed her from the room.

  ‘I understand you and Rhys worked together in America?’ Catrin was saying when they entered the lounge.

  ‘That’s right,’ Jessica said. ‘Rhys was filming a documentary about unusual pets. I was the assistant who held the animals. It was made to make money for some animal sanctuary. Rhys called it Beauty and the Beast, wasn’t that lovely of him?’

  Depends which way round he meant it, Amanda thought wickedly, but she smiled politely.

  ‘What are your plans for the future?’ Catrin asked. Jessica shook her lovely dark brown hair and looked at Rhys.

  ‘That rather depends,’ she said mysteriously, ‘doesn’t it, Rhys, darling?’

  ‘Jessica can either return to the States and take a small part in a stage play or stay here and do some advertising to be shown in the cinema. She hasn’t made up her mind, yet.’

  Amanda watched the silent messages Jessica was passing and wondered what to believe. Rhys was not showing signs of a close involvement with their lovely visitor, but there was definitely something between them.

  Rhys stood to leave and Amanda was relieved that the uncomfortable visit was over. Catrin tried to talk of everyday things as their coats were gathered, aware of the uneasy mood.

  Amanda watched as Rhys and Jessica walked off towards the bungalow, Jessica holding Rhys’s arm possessively. As they passed out of sight with a final wave, Philip appeared and walked towards their open door.

  ‘So, the great Miss Jessica Maybury meets her public,’ he said.

  ‘You’ve learned something!’ Catrin’s words to Philip were statement not question and she was smiling at Amanda.

 

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