The Tangled Web

by The Tangled Web (retail) (epub)

  ‘I’m going to say I’m sorry,’ Rhys said. ‘I really believed Heather’s story.’ He looked across at Amanda still cowering in Catrin’s chair. ‘I remember Amanda telling me that there was a danger of believing the first version you hear and refusing to listen to the other side. She was so right. I really am sorry, Philip and, well, I’m impressed by your loyalty. You didn’t even try to convince me otherwise, you kept faith with Heather and took the blame.’

  ‘I did try to talk to you once or twice,’ Philip said dryly. ‘Pompous old sod that you are, you wouldn’t listen.’

  ‘Am I a pompous old sod?’ Rhys asked later that evening when they were discussing all that had happened with Catrin.

  Amanda and Catrin answered in chorus, ‘Yes!’

  * * *

  Summer passed and autumn came rolling in with mists and extravagant colours transforming the area with a different scene each day. The time for Catrin to leave Firethorn came and went without anything being done. Amanda began to think once more about the preparations for Christmas at school.

  Heather and Haydn were still together, but now Philip visited and occasionally took the girls out. The gossip this caused went round and round, changing form as frequently as the clouds, as people tried to fit what they knew into some sort of story, but the truth, that Haydn and Heather weren’t married, seemed to elude them all.‘

  * * *

  One day in late November, Roy and a noticeably pregnant Gillian came to Firethorn Cottage. Amanda was enchanted to see how attentive Roy was to his bride, and not only when someone was watching, either, she noticed with pride. He was genuinely caring. And, from the way he spoke, he was looking forward to the baby with great excitement.

  ‘That’ll be enough to keep me on the straight and narrow, eh, Mand? I wouldn’t want to miss a day of him growing up. More special for people like you and me, not having a home when we were small.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that!’ Amanda laughed. ‘I’d begun to think nothing would cure you!’

  ‘It’s still hard not to take something when it’s asking to be nicked,’ Roy confessed. ‘Seeing a shopping bag with the purse perched on the top, or seeing an open window with a wallet on the window sill like I saw the other day. Or when I see someone picking up a mat and taking out a front door key, something clicks into place in my brain and I start planning to use it and go and see what I can find.’ He looked a bit embarrassed, pushing his fingers through his thick blond hair, looking away from them. ‘You don’t know how hard it is to ignore all that, you really don’t.’

  The beautiful Riley was parked outside. The road was narrow and the cottage was near a corner, so there was no room for Amanda’s Ford Popular when someone else parked there. Today she had moved her car further along the road in readiness for her visitors. When Roy looked outside he saw an old man leaning on his walking stick, admiring it.

  ‘I had one of these once,’ he called, seeing Roy’s face at the open window. ‘Beautiful they are. Can’t drive no more but I often think about it.’

  ‘I’ll take you for a ride one day,’ Roy promised. ‘Go on, sit inside, she isn’t locked.’ He opened the door and walked down to where the man was getting into the driving seat with some difficulty, being obviously a little lame.

  ‘Who is it?’ Catrin asked and looking out, said, ‘Oh, it’s Mel Griffiths. You know, Philip walks his dog, Ben.’

  As they watched, the old man stared at Roy then raised his stick to him and beat Roy across the shoulders.

  ‘Whatever’s happening?’ Amanda and Catrin ran out as Roy managed to get the stick out of the old man’s hand.

  ‘What’s got into you, you silly old fool?’ Roy demanded.

  ‘It was you! You’re the one who broke in and took my electricity and rent money! Saw you I did and I’m going to call the police now this minute! Got your fingerprints I have, so you won’t get out of it!’

  In vain they tried to reason with him. He went into Philip’s house and a few moments later, Philip came to tell them Mr Griffiths had identified Roy as the man who had stolen from him and insisted on calling the police. ‘I tried to stop him,’ Philip said. ‘Told him about Gillian and the baby but he was so furious. Strong man he was once and I think he was humiliated that he couldn’t stop the burglar that night. It’s rankled ever since.’

  ‘What’s happening?’ Gillian asked, and when she was told she collapsed.

  The ambulance arrived at the same time as the police and Roy just managed to get inside the ambulance to go to hospital with his wife before the police could ask him to accompany them, in their politely-phrased demand, to the station.

  The baby was born that night, a little girl they planned to call Sarah. Two hours after the birth, Roy was arrested.

  * * *

  It was Rhys who came to tell Amanda. At eleven o’clock that night, when she was undressed and ready for bed, having heard the glad news of the safe arrival of Gillian’s daughter, she opened the door to be greeted with the other, devastating news.

  ‘It’s Roy. You’ve got to be brave, Amanda, Gillian will need your support. Roy’s been arrested for the burglaries in Tri-nant last summer.’

  ‘But he wouldn’t! Knowing I live and work here he just wouldn’t be so stupid or unkind. It isn’t true. He wouldn’t break in. There has to be an explanation of him seeing that sculpture in your house.’

  ‘We’ve both known for some time it was he. He couldn’t have known about the sculpture. He’s guilty, Amanda. I’m sorry.’

  ‘And you’ll give evidence?’

  ‘Of course not!’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘Nothing, I’ll deal with it just as before, but this time I’ll have Gillian to look after as well. Nice really, having a sort of sister-in-law. And a sort of niece.’

  Rhys put his arms around her. ‘Amanda, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It won’t make much difference. I’m used to it.’

  But it did. The first thing that happened when the news reached the school was that someone else offered, rather firmly, to hold the money being saved for the Christmas Pantomime outing.

  During the same week, the offer she made to collect a few pence each week from the children towards the school party was also refused. It came to her with a horrifying rush that she was no longer trusted to hold other people’s money. Having even a reformed criminal for a brother was affecting her life once more.

  ‘I intend giving in my notice at the end of this term,’ she told Catrin.

  ‘Please don’t,’ Catrin urged. ‘It will all blow over. I suspect that one or two people with loud voices have convinced the rest that you are a criminal by being related to one. How ridiculous people are. As if having a doctor for a brother would make you naturally good at first aid! Or a brother who’s a singing policeman would mean you’d go around singing and arresting people!’

  Amanda laughed but it was forced and died quickly. No matter how Catrin tried to cheer her, her mind was made up. She couldn’t possibly work with people who didn’t trust her. ‘I’ll open a nursery school,’ she said. ‘It’s something I’ve often thought about. Then only those who trust me would come. I’ll stay in the village though, they won’t make me leave.’

  Over the next few weeks she pored over catalogues to decide what equipment she would need to buy. Premises would be difficult but with the church hall and an ex-army hut both being possibilities, she was confident she would find something when the time arrived. She had no intention of leaving before finishing the school year. She owed the children that.

  She bought several large toys, a swing, see-saw, prams and bikes, and, with Philip’s help, repaired and re-painted them. The garden was more like a park playground until they were dry and packed into the shed. One swing was erected at Catrin’s request, and she often sat on it to read her morning paper when winter offered up one of its mild, sunny days.

  Rhys was away but he arrived home as Christmas appro
ached. He walked into the garden to find Philip and Amanda dressed against the chill, covered in red paint and trying in vain to finish the final coat on a tricycle by reaching underneath to places Amanda had missed.

  ‘Next time you’d better leave all the intricate painting to me,’ Philip was laughing. ‘Slides and pedal cars, yes, bicycles definately no!’

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Hello, Rhys. Philip is helping me get this ready for when I open my nursery school. What d’you think?’ She spread an arm for him to admire their work.

  ‘Nursery school?’ he queried.

  ‘I’ll leave you two to talk,’ Philip said reaching for a cloth and the bottle of paint thinner. ‘I’ll come back this evening and finish the rest, right?’ He slipped through the hedge into his own garden, where he was building a small frame with steps and hand rails, for children to learn to climb in safety.

  ‘I’m going to leave Mill Lane School,’ Amanda told Rhys when they went inside to make some tea. ‘I don’t feel happy there any more.’ When she told him why he looked at her quizzically and told her she was an idiot.

  ‘Call a meeting of the teachers and the Head, together with any of the parents you think would be on your side. The ones who started this nonsense must be known, so invite them too. I’ll come and chair a meeting and we can bring it all out into the open. I don’t think the parents or the teachers would like you to leave. Will you give it a try?’

  She was doubtful. ‘It’s been spoilt irreparably, in my opinion. The edge of distrust will never completely leave me.’

  ‘Nonsense. Now, I’ll go at once and talk to the Head. He’ll agree, I’m sure.’

  Roy was remanded in prison awaiting a trial and his Probation Officer’s report. Amanda went every weekend to see Gillian and baby Sarah. Gillian was philosophical about it, prepared to wait for Roy to be released and convinced that he had spoken the truth and had given up crime for her and the baby’s sake.

  ‘It was such bad luck, that man recognising him,’ she told Amanda sadly. ‘Roy had told me about the robberies in Tri-nant. He told me about the man trying to stop him too, and how he could have pushed him out of the way like a matchstick but he didn’t. Whatever you say about him, he has never been violent, even then, when he was faced with being recognised.’

  Eventually, Mel Griffiths gave evidence to that effect, and together with the fact that he had not offended since and was apparently going straight, with a job, a wife and a child, his sentence was limited to the time he had already served on remand. He came out a chastened man and hugged Gillian until she thought she would break.

  ‘Thanks Gill. I’ll never let you down again, never,’ he promised.

  ‘You don’t have to say it any more, Roy,’ Gillian smiled happily. ‘I believe you. So, shall we go and see Amanda this weekend? I’ve had the car checked over and filled with petrol all ready for you.’

  ‘I don’t deserve you,’ he muttered into her hair.

  * * *

  Heather left Tri-nant, leaving Haydn behind and taking the girls. She had found a job as housekeeper to a man in Dinas Powys with a large house on the common where the girls could play, and with horse-riding stables close by owned and run by the same man. He promised lessons for the girls and offered a car for Heather’s use so she could take them to Barry Island at weekends. She wrote to Amanda and told her that this time she intended to stand on her own two feet and not depend on anyone.

  ‘Doesn’t sound very independent to me,’ Amanda said.

  ‘And she’s made sure Haydn has her address, in case it doesn’t work out,’ Catrin said sadly. ‘I don’t think he’s free of her or ever will be.’

  ‘Philip isn’t either. He’ll want to continue to see the girls now they know who he is,’ Amanda said. ‘And Haydn will want to keep in touch with them too.’

  ‘Two men attendant on her and a home in a beautiful place like Dinas Powys, what more can she need to keep her happy?’ Catrin looked at Amanda. ‘And what about you, dear. Are you going to arrange this meeting? Stay on at the school? I do hope so.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ Amanda was undecided.

  * * *

  The meeting lasted only twenty minutes. Everyone there – and the school hall was crowded – insisted she stayed. It was pointed out that only two people in the whole village had even mentioned a connection between Amanda and her brother. The reason for the removal of the money collecting was kindly done, it was because the other teachers had agreed she was doing too much. It was that simple.

  ‘What will I do with all the equipment I’ve collected?’ she asked Rhys. ‘I’ve collected enough toys to fill the shed.’

  He looked at her strangely and said, ‘You’ll find a use for them, I’m sure.’

  * * *

  Nothing had been said about Catrin leaving Firethorn Cottage and as she brought out the Christmas tree and all the decorations were put up, Amanda hoped nothing would. On the few occasions when she thought Catrin was going to discuss it, Amanda quickly changed the subject.

  * * *

  It was Rhys who eventually made her talk about it, one Saturday morning, when he had called and invited himself for breakfast. He had just driven back from Cornwall, where he had been working on trials for filming advertisements for the newly approved independent television authority.

  ‘When is my aunt leaving Firethorn Cottage?’ he asked.

  ‘There’s no hurry,’ Amanda replied. ‘She can stay as long as she wants to.’

  ‘Philip’s lease is extended but he has to get out in April,’ Rhys added. ‘Are you going to take him in too?’

  ‘Hardly. I don’t intend making Firethorn Cottage a boarding house!’

  ‘You know that was her idea, don’t you? That you and I should marry and live in the bungalow so she could invite Philip to be her lodger?’

  ‘She told you that?’ She forced a laugh. ‘She told me too. What a preposterous idea. As if you and I could settle happily together.’

  ‘Once I would have agreed with that sentiment. My attitude was coloured by my belief that Heather had been treated shabbily, by having a husband who travelled frequently and was never there when he was needed.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘Now I think we could, and should.’

  She turned to stare at him, convinced she had misheard him. ‘Couldn’t and shouldn’t! Well yes, that just about sums it up,’ she laughed, deliberately misunderstanding.

  She turned away thankful of the excuse of cooking breakfast, concentrating on the bacon and mushrooms under the grill and the eggs crackling in the frying pan. ‘Would you like fried bread?’ she asked casually.

  ‘I’d like you to marry me, Amanda. I’ll never be happy unless you do. Please, say yes.’

  Slowly and deliberately putting the food onto a warmed plate, she reached over and put it in front of him. ‘Sorry, Rhys, I wasn’t listening. Did you say something?’

  ‘I want to marry you.’ He pushed his chair back and stood beside her. ‘Amanda?’ he asked, when she was slow in replying.

  ‘Oh, I see, and when were you thinking of arranging this little ceremony?’

  ‘Amanda!’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Will you marry me?’

  Still she didn’t reply, but stood looking out of the window at the wind-blown garden, and the shed bulging with children’s toys.

  ‘Well, I suppose it would be better than wasting all those toys Philip and I have repaired,’ she said, still talking as if they were discussing next week’s milk bill.

  Catrin burst into the room and said with what was for her high irritation, ‘Amanda. Answer the man!’

  ‘When he makes it sound more important than where we’ll park the car, I’ll answer him.’

  ‘I love you. I would never be happy without you. Your car is constantly blocking the road and my aunt wants the cottage,’ Rhys said and now he was trying hard not to laugh.

  She turned and there was laughter and tears bright
ening her eyes as she threw herself into his arms.

  First published in Great Britain in 2000 by Severn House Publishers Limited

  This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by

  Canelo Digital Publishing Limited

  57 Shepherds Lane

  Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU

  United Kingdom

  Copyright © Grace Thompson, 2000

  The moral right of Grace Thompson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9781911591030

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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