The Tangled Web

by The Tangled Web (retail) (epub)

  ‘I’ve spoken to my agent to discuss the book about my stream,’ he said, ‘and he thinks it’s a good idea.’

  ‘I’m glad. Have you decided how to arrange it?’

  ‘Not the seasons. Nor “A day in the life of…”. I want something different,’ he frowned.

  ‘Collect your favourite pictures and an idea will come,’ she advised.

  ‘I think you’re right. It’s like a friendship. It isn’t until it grows that you know what sort of friendship it will be.’

  He was looking at Amanda as he spoke and she wondered how he saw their relationship growing. Nothing in his handsome face gave a hint of his thoughts. Shyness returned and made her turn away from his scrutiny.

  ‘Will you come and look at some photographs?’ he asked her. ‘I’d bring them here, but there are boxfuls. Why not come tomorrow after school, and have tea?’

  Some devil in her made her decline. ‘I have some work to do after school,’ she said. ‘Finishing touches to the bonnets.’

  ‘Ask Heather to help, then you’ll be able to do both,’ he said, handing her the phone.

  The Easter Bonnet Parade was to be held outside if the weather allowed, but judging from the cold winds that prevailed, and after several severely icy and snow-bound weeks, it was more likely to be in the school hall. Amanda had asked the children to bring the hats before the actual day so she could check them and make sure they fitted. Heather came with the two girls as Haydn was out, and they set out the hats on desks and tables in the school hall, which soon looked like a small garden. Half an hour later she looked at them and was satisfied she had done all she could to make sure the day was a success.

  At the corner of the lane she waved goodbye to Heather, Helen and Jane and explained she was going to look at some of Rhys’s photographs. ‘Catrin is meeting me there and Rhys has promised tea, which probably means I’ll have to make it,’ she laughed.

  ‘You might be surprised,’ Heather said. ‘Rhys is capable of producing an excellent spread at times.’

  ‘You’re right. I would be surprised! In fact, I bet you an evening of minding Helen and Jane that you’re wrong.’

  ‘It’s unlikely we’d collect,’ Heather said at once. ‘We never go out without taking them.’

  ‘What a pity,’ Amanda looked at Heather thoughtfully. ‘I’d have thought a few hours out of the house on your own would be refreshing for you both.’

  ‘The girls are all I need.’

  Amanda was frowning when she left the threesome and walked towards the bungalow. Love and care she could understand, but Heather seemed afraid to let the children out of her sight. It was approaching the end of Jane’s second term, yet Heather was at the gate long after school had started and was always out there long before the time to collect her, standing where Jane could not fail to see her.

  Amanda noticed that Jane aways sensed when her mother arrived and she would leave whatever she was doing and wander towards the window, giving a tiny wave to the lonely figure standing near the fence.

  Rain, wind and even snowstorms didn’t prevent Heather from waiting long unnecessary hours each week, so Jane wouldn’t think she had been forgotten. Amanda puzzled over the reason. Heather’s insecurity had caused the child to become anxious; she was sure the problem was with Heather and not her younger daughter.

  The door of Rhys’s bungalow stood open but there was no reply to her call. She walked through the garden and there they were. Catrin stood behind a camera which was fixed on a tripod and Rhys was holding up an arm as if around someone’s shoulders. As Amanda watched, Rhys called, ‘Ready?’

  ‘Perfect!’ Catrin called. Then she left the camera and ran to Rhys, slipping into his widespread arm. A camera clicked and they both laughed.

  ‘There, you see? Taking your own photograph is easy.’ He saw Amanda and called her over. ‘Come and see what Aunt Catrin’s been doing.’

  The intricacies of delayed camera work were explained to her and she surprised him by understanding a lot of what he said.

  ‘I have learnt a little about the subject,’ she reminded him.

  ‘You could both be very useful to me,’ he said as, with an arm around each of them, he led them inside.

  To her surprise, tea was prepared. Teacakes ready to toast, sandwiches neatly arranged, and scones, thick with jam and cream, temptingly displayed. ‘And before you accuse me,’ Rhys said, ‘I did it without help!’

  When they had eaten, Rhys spread out a number of photographs for them to study. Amanda could see he had an expert eye for blending the colour of the subject and the background. Portraits of birds, fish, reptiles and flowers living around the stream in endless variety.

  ‘I wouldn’t want to discard any,’ Catrin wailed.

  Handling them with care, Amanda put them into three separate groups.

  ‘Morning, noon and night?’ she suggested. They discussed the possibility for some time, and it was almost nine before the pictures were finally put aside.

  ‘Come and have a drink?’ Rhys suggested. ‘We just have time.’

  Catrin shook her head. She closed her eyes as if tired. ‘Not me, my dears, but don’t let me stop you from going. I’ll stroll back and prepare for bed.’

  Amanda was about to say she too would go home, but Rhys forestalled her.

  ‘We’ll take you home first, Aunt Catrin. Then Amanda and I will go to the Cwm Gwyn Arms.’

  Amanda looked hard at Catrin. The sleepiness had vanished from her eyes. She smiled at the woman and was rewarded with a twinkle-eyed wink. Startled, Amanda stared, but the beguiling expression was back as Catrin smiled wearily up at her nephew, who was holding out her coat.

  ‘Thank you my dear. I’m sorry to be such a spoilsport, but I do get suddenly very tired, sometimes.’ She looked so innocent Amanda began to wonder if she had imagined that wink!

  ‘What are you playing at?’ she whispered as Rhys went to start the car.

  ‘Propinquity, that’s all.’

  ‘What does propinquity mean, Rhys?’ Amanda asked when they were sitting with their drinks.

  ‘This.’ He moved closer and put an arm around her tightly. ‘It means nearness, or kinship I think. Why?’

  ‘Oh, nothing. It just popped into my mind.’ Catrin, she thought, you’re a very crafty lady. She was unable to hide a smile.

  ‘What are you smiling at?’ Rhys asked.

  ‘Oh, something Catrin said earlier,’ she replied vaguely.

  A voice they recognised called from the doorway and Amanda looked up to see Haydn. Collecting more drinks from the bar he came and joined them.

  ‘Not interrupting anything, am I?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course not!’ Amanda answered quickly. ‘We were discussing Rhys’s book.’

  Amanda sat back while the two men became very technical. She asked an occasional question and the time to leave came too quickly.

  ‘Why didn’t Heather come with you?’ Amanda asked as they were leaving. ‘I’ve offered to look after the girls if she wants to go out and there must be others willing to help?’

  ‘Thanks, but Heather won’t leave them. I pop out for an hour now and then. It would do her good to have an evening out though. Perhaps when the girls are older.’

  ‘Any time she changes her mind,’ Amanda offered, but knew it was a vain hope.

  Rhys drove her home but didn’t go inside. ‘Say goodnight to Aunt Catrin for me,’ he said. ‘I won’t see you for a while but I hope to be back for the Easter Parade.’

  ‘Thank you for this evening, Rhys. I enjoyed it. Catrin did too; pity she was so suddenly tired.’ She said the words pointedly, wondering if he had guessed the fatigue had been arranged so they could go out alone.

  ‘I hope she isn’t ill,’ he said.

  ‘I’ve invited her to the Easter Bonnet Parade. She wouldn’t dare be ill and miss that!’ Amanda said.

  ‘I’ll see you both there.’ He kissed her warmly, his arms holding her tightly, before walking back to t
he car and driving away.

  Amanda watched until a bend in the road hid the lights of the car from her sight and went indoors to tell Catrin about the visit to the Cwn Gwyn Arms.

  ‘Catrin, you must know why Heather is so over-protective with Jane,’ she said, as they sat beside the dying fire with a milky drink. ‘It’s surely more than a broken marriage? They’re happy now aren’t they, Heather and Haydn? Helen doesn’t worry her so much. It’s little Jane. Jane never visits friends or invites friends to tea like her older sister. And from what I gather, she is never allowed out to play.’

  ‘The child might not want to. No mother treats her children exactly the same. Each child has its needs and the mother acts according to the individual child.’

  Amanda shook her head. ‘The trouble is with Heather, not Jane. But there’s no way I can find out. Heather clams up when I try to discuss it. You must know, Catrin. Can’t you tell me?’

  ‘Ask Rhys, dear. He and Haydn are friends; he’d explain better than anyone else could.’

  Amanda nodded but she knew she wouldn’t speak to Rhys about it. She had tried, but that invisible barrier was around the subject, whoever she asked. Rhys and Catrin must surely know but for some reason neither would talk about it.

  On Sunday afternoon, Amanda took her camera and went down by the stream in Rhys’s garden. An hour later she was lying on the bank on the unbelievably cold mud, half hidden by a hide used occasionally by Rhys. Her camera was pointed at the water where a small trout searched the bottom in the clear stream.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of bright blue and knew instinctively it was a kingfisher. She lay still. Perhaps she would be lucky and get a shot of the elusive bird. She watched, hardly daring to breathe, willing it to return.

  Rewarded after a very long wait when she was about to give up, she aimed the viewfinder and clicked until the bird had vanished. The trout had long gone, but she was more than happy with the afternoon.

  She slowly wriggled out of the collection of wood and leaves that had kept her hidden. When she stood up she realised with a shock that she was not alone. The light was fading and in the deepening shadows, she saw Jessica watching her from beneath a tree.

  ‘It’s you!’ Jessica was obviously disappointed. ‘I saw someone under the dead wood and thought it must be Rhys.’

  ‘Rhys is away,’ Amanda said stiffly.

  ‘Oh, well. I don’t suppose he’ll mind my using the house. I have the builders in and I can’t possibly stand the chaos for another day.

  Amanda didn’t reply. She couldn’t tell Rhys’s girlfriend not to stay. It was obvious Jessica had a key. She collected her bag and camera and nodded to her. ‘If you’ll excuse me I have to go. I want to take this film for developing.’

  ‘Why d’you bother?’ Jessica asked in a bored voice.

  ‘What d’you mean? I bother because I’ll be able to use them at school if they’re good enough.’

  ‘You won’t impress Rhys by crawling about in mud.’ Jessica followed Amanda past the bungalow. ‘Rhys goes for glamour, not mud-larking.’

  ‘I’m not trying to impress. I do what I like doing.’

  ‘And you like being a teacher?’

  ‘Very much.’

  ‘Don’t you want more out of life than that?’

  Amanda turned to glare at her interrogator. Jessica stood leaning against the corner of the bungalow and Amanda had to admit she made a beautiful picture with her rich red jumper and dark green skirt, her light brown hair falling softly to her shoulders.

  ‘At present I am completely happy doing what I do. When my work no longer fulfils me, then I’ll look for something else.’

  ‘Oh, I see, you’re just hoping for marriage like most young girls. Well, let me warn you, Rhys isn’t the marrying kind.’

  ‘So I understand.’

  ‘But,’ Jessica said, smiling a dazzling smile, ‘I think I’m about to make him change his mind.’

  Amanda adjusted her shoulder bag and smiled back sweetly. ‘Then I wish you luck. You’ll need it!’

  ‘Perhaps I won’t stay here after all. I think I’ll join him in London. The big city is more our sort of place than muddy streams.’

  ‘Hardly worth you bothering. He’s coming back to photograph the children on Friday.’

  ‘You’re sure, are you?’ Jessica lifted her skirt and tiptoed daintily up to the road. Amanda clumped behind her in Philip’s wellingtons, feeling far from feminine.

  * * *

  On Friday, as the time of the Parade drew near, Amanda was feeling apprehensive. There was no sign of Rhys. Jessica had obviously succeeded in keeping him away.

  ‘Lucky I own a camera,’ she said to Catrin and Heather, who had come to help dress the children. ‘I was afraid he wouldn’t make it.’

  ‘He’ll be here,’ Catrin said confidently. But Amanda remembered Jessica’s words and was not so sure. A second disaster was the non-appearance of the person who was to give the commentary as the children walked across the stage one at a time to display their bonnets. As it was her idea, it was Amanda who was expected to take the woman’s place.

  Giving last-minute instructions to the excited children, she left them and walked towards the stage trying to sort out a few ideas for describing the parade. As the Head finished his welcome to the audience, the door opened and the tall figure of Rhys entered.

  Her heart lifted with joy. So Jessica had failed to keep him away. Mixed with happiness at seeing him was a nervousness. How could she give a humorous send-up of a fashion show with him watching her? He was bound to compare her to Jessica, a trained actress. Then she looked at the huddle of children beginning to push their way into the hall. This was their special day, not hers. She must forget her own problems and do her best, for their sakes.

  Rhys sidled his way past the closely packed chairs to the front of the stage, where he could get an uninterrupted view of the participants. She smiled a welcome and began.

  In gentle mockery of a fashion show, she described the hats and gave the name of each model who would then pirouette for the audience. Rhys took photographs of each child and some of the parents. The youngsters reacted to the mood and began posing for him, much to everyone’s amusement.

  After everything had been cleared away, Catrin went home declaring she was again the victim of sudden tiredness, and Rhys took Amanda out for a meal. While they waited for coffee, Amanda showed him the photograph of the kingfisher, which unfortunately had come out as little more than a blur of blue and green with only the front of the bird clearly shown.

  ‘When did you take it?’ he asked, not displeased with its effect.

  ‘The day I spoke to Jessica. Didn’t she tell you?’ She waited for his reply, hoping they hadn’t met, but guessing from his face that they had.

  ‘She didn’t mention it.’

  ‘She didn’t? I thought she’d have delighted in telling you I was in your garden lying in the mud for hours and ended up looking like part of the bank. The contrast between us was unbelievable!’ She tried to make it a joke.

  ‘She came to the hotel I always use, but didn’t stay long. I was busy and Jessica hates being ignored.’

  His reply pleased her enormously.

  9

  Roy knew Mr and Mrs Harris wanted him gone, but with Gillian still supporting him and proclaiming his innocence he felt confident enough to spend his savings on a car. Not a new one like Amanda had chosen, but a second-hand Riley, long-bodied and impressive with its black shiny coach-built body and leather interior, its highly polished chrome and distinctive horn.

  ‘Soon be well known this car will,’ he told Gillian. ‘Proves I’m not worried about the police watching me, doesn’t it? Stop your Mam worrying about me then, won’t it?’

  They went for a drive, the three Harrises and Roy and he drove close to the village where Amanda lived, his sharp eyes always on the lookout for a likely place to ‘do’. He sensed that Mr Harris had something on his mind and, afr
aid he was going to be told to go, he decided on a move to placate him. When they returned to the house, he hung up the keys on the draining-board hook and said generously, ‘Borrow it whenever you want, Mr Harris. It’s for us all to enjoy, mind, not just me.’ His offer didn’t work.

  ‘Sony, son,’ Mr Harris said, glancing shiftily between Roy and Mrs Harris. ‘Me and the missus have discussed it and we want you to leave. Not immediate, mind, we’ll give you a few days to get somewhere else, but we can’t stand the shame of it no more.’

  Gillian believed Roy was going straight, even though the police seemed to visit more regularly than the postman, and her mother was nervous and anxious for him to be gone. She pleaded in vain.

  ‘Right then. I’ll get out by the end of the week.’ Roy smiled affectionately at Mrs Harris who was almost in tears. ‘But I can come and see you, can’t I? And Gillian isn’t forbidden to meet me, is she? I couldn’t cope with losing you. You’ve almost become my family and that’s a fact.’

  ‘Sorry, Roy,’ Gillian said later, ‘I’ve tried to change their minds.’

  ‘Once the police leave me alone they’ll feel better about me.’ Roy put on his most lugubrious expression and hugged a tearful Gillian.

  ‘Why are they hounding you?’ she demanded the following morning after yet another visit from the local police. ‘Don’t they understand that with our help you are keeping away from crime? They still come here demanding to know exactly what you were doing at the time of every crime that happens round here. This last one was miles out of town, how do they think you get there for heaven’s sake? Your car is too noticeable for you to go anywhere without being spotted.’

  Roy hadn’t told her about the old van he had the use of, belonging to Dave’s family, which he used to enable him to travel far away from the places where he was likely to be a suspect. He also had the bicycle Mr Harris had given him. It was a war-time model, dull-coloured, and without chrome to shine and make him visible he could creep along the lanes in safety.