Victor rose from his chair and stood beside her, ‘Amy, can’t we meet. Just for a chat,’ he added hurriedly as her head began to move in refusal. ‘I don’t have anyone to talk to. Delina is so subdued since her wedding was cancelled and as you know, my wife ignores me almost totally.’
‘There are your sons?’
‘Polite, that’s all.’
‘Victor, love, I have my daughter to consider. I’ve attracted a lot of talk in the past but now she’s growing up and, well, I don’t want anything to spoil her life.’
‘There wouldn’t be any talk, I promise. I just need to feel I can call on you and perhaps take you for an occasional drink. I’ve joined the darts team at The Drovers. Couldn’t you at least come and cheer me on?’ He smiled encouragingly. ‘My aim would be straighter if you shouted for me, honest.’
The Drovers was where she used to meet Harry, and her voice was sharp as she said, ‘Not The Drovers.’ Then more kindly she added, ‘Come at the weekends, when Margaret is there, not in the week. All right?’
His smile was so warm that she felt a moment of guilt. She was becoming a selfish woman, what with her lack of sympathy for Sheila and now here she was treating Victor as if he were a peasant begging for a crust. How could it possibly harm Margaret if her friends called to see her? That one of the friends was male should make no difference. But she knew she was kidding herself if she pretended it would not result in gossip. ‘Sometimes,’ she said, surprising Victor with her vehemence, ‘I wish I lived in the middle of a big anonymous town!’
Not being privy to her thoughts he asked, ‘Why? Aren’t you happy in Hen Carw Parc?’
‘Everyone knows what everyone else is doing. I swear I only need to think of changing my dress and everyone knows!’
‘You can’t really mind. It shows people care about you. Nosy people are often generous hearts who find out when there’s help needed and offer it.’
‘You’re right, Victor.’ She touched her lips lightly against his cheek. ‘I’m a misery lately.’
‘Is Sian more than you can cope with?’ He leaned over and looked at the baby who was staring up at the flickering firelight on the ceiling with apparent interest. ‘She’s a good baby isn’t she?’
‘Very good, but it’s still a lot of work, what with the shop, the house and trying to find time to spare for Margaret. It was easier when Freddie was home but I suppose I was unfair to him, leaning on him. It wasn’t right.’
‘Lean on me, Amy,’ he said softly, ‘lean on me.’
She sighed, touching his arm affectionately. ‘If only I could.’ He leaned towards her and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
‘You can, Amy. I know I’m not free, but one day I will be and then I’ll look after you proper. Unless that Billie Brown steals you before then. He’s got more to offer you, I know that, and he’s free to offer it all now, but he can’t love you any more than I do.’ His lips touched her cheek, travelled across to her lips and as she was about to surrender to his kiss a shadow crossed the open door and a voice asked, ‘What you doing?’
Amy turned at once but the shadow had gone. She hurried to the open door and Victor followed but there was no sign of anyone.
‘Did you see someone come in then, Phil?’ Amy called to where Phil stood outside the gate with a knot of others, discussing the fate of Sheila and her baby.
‘No, why?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Amy frowned. ‘Was it Margaret?’ she asked Victor. ‘Or Oliver?’
‘No, but it was a child.’
A noise from the back kitchen made them stare into the room and Victor went on tip-toe to investigate. He was just in time to see a young girl disappearing around the door post. On a small table near the sink was a cake, left to cool and hurriedly broken in half.
‘That girl who’s been a nuisance, it was her! Stolen some of Ethel’s cake she has. I’m going to see Constable Harris about her. She mitches from school and hangs about all day and no one seems to care about her.’
‘Perhaps her parents don’t know,’ Amy defended.
‘Then it’s time they did! There’s all sorts of trouble a child like that can get into wandering about on her own all day. Some parents just don’t care!’
The group who had stood to watch the ambulance drive away moved towards the house. Milly Toogood was there with Sybil Tremain, her constant shadow, Bert Roberts was loudly offering his opinion on the stupidity of the doctors, and Amy suddenly became aware that they were all talking sympathetically about Sheila; even Milly, who rarely spoke well of anyone.
‘It was only Ethel who showed any concern,’ Milly was saying, trying to out-shout Bert. ‘She’s been up to see her regular, and her with her bad legs too.’
Amy silently agreed with her. No one had bothered with Sheila except her mother-in-law, who she sensed felt love for the girl as well as responsibility.
Victor looked through the door and saw that Phil had been called by Constable Harris. He pushed past the people waiting for Amy to make tea and called to the constable. ‘I’ve just been saying to Amy, I think you should do something about this girl who’s making a nuisance of herself. D’you know what she’s just done?’ He stopped as he saw from the men’s faces that something was wrong. ‘What’s happened?’ he asked.
‘Constable Harris has just told me I’m not going to be an uncle again after all. Mam’ll be so sad. Looking forward to the new baby, she was.’
‘You mean, Sheila’s lost the baby?’ Amy’s face drooped with sadness when she heard the news. She felt partly to blame for the way she had criticised Sheila. ‘I’m really sorry. Ethel would have so enjoyed having a new grandchild.’
‘Ethel phoned me from the hospital, and asked me to find Sheila’s parents. Seems Sheila isn’t too good either.’
‘Mam.’ Margaret squeezed into the now crowded room and pushed towards her mother. ‘Oliver isn’t in but I think I know where he is. There’s a meeting at the vicarage to make arrangements for tomorrow’s Whitsun outing.’
‘Of course, and that’s where the Powells will be. Be a love and run after Constable Harris and tell him, will you?’
Margaret pushed her way out of the room, where Milly was passing round cups of tea, and ran down the lane. In Ethel’s house the talk was subdued. There was concern for the girl few could honestly say they liked but for whom they all felt sympathy.
Johnny Cartwright arrived as Milly was refilling the cups. Not knowing the news, having just finished his shift on the buses, he said cheerfully, ‘What d’you think I saw yesterday? Evie and Timothy and young Oliver in a car, but the surprising thing was, Evie was driving! Yes, learning to drive she is, fancy that now, and she hasn’t said a word to anyone. At least, Phil didn’t know and that’s almost the same thing!’ He stopped his cheerful chatter and looked around him. ‘Where’s Ethel, then? And what are you all looking like a funeral for?’
‘It’s the baby, Johnny,’ Phil explained. ‘Sheila’s lost the baby and she isn’t too good herself, like. Mam’s at the hospital and PC Harris is looking for Sheila’s parents.’
‘Damn, I didn’t know. And there’s me going on like that… Sorry, Phil.’ He took the cup of tea that Victor passed him and sipped hurriedly. ‘Is there anything I can do? Will your Mam want a lift home from the hospital?’ While everyone was discussing the arrangements, Amy prepared to leave.
‘I’ll walk back with you,’ Victor said. ‘Come on, here’s Margaret back.’
They walked silently up the lane which curved past Nelly’s cottage. At her gate, Nelly was trying to control the excited dogs.
‘Any news?’ she shouted above their enthusiastic barking. ‘About that Sheila, I mean?’
When she heard the sad report about the baby, her face crumpled exaggeratedly into dismay. ‘Shame it is, a real shame. What with all the trouble the girl caused, and Ethel looking forward to having a new grandchild. It’s hard that it’s all ended with nothing at all, ain’t it?’
‘I feel g
uilty,’ Amy admitted. ‘I’ve never said a good word, and now—’
‘I told her it’s nothing to feel guilty about,’ Victor said. ‘As if her not liking Sheila could have changed anything.’
‘Only Ethel showed any love for ’er,’ Nelly said. ‘P’raps we’re all a bit to blame.’
Amy realised that Nelly was wearing her navy coat, fastened across the front with a safety pin.
‘Are you off to see Ethel?’ she asked. ‘She’s still at the hospital. I don’t know when she’ll be back.’
‘No, I ain’t callin’. It’s someone else I want to see, name of Dawn Simmons. That girl what’s been tormentin’ us and ’elpin’ ’erself to cakes an’ eggs. Remember ’er takin’ a cake from your shop, Amy? Well, she’s opened up me chicken coop an’ that could mean the fox gettin’ me chickens again. So I’m off to see ’er father.’
‘I think we should have a word with the police.’ Victor showed a ruffle of anger.
‘No, let me an’ George talk to ’er dad first. She ain’t got no mother. Best if we ’ave a word with the dad before the police.’
‘Oh, I didn’t know about the mother,’ Victor said. ‘We seem too willing to jump to accuse, don’t we?’
Because they were still feeling ashamed at the lack of care they had shown to Sheila, forgetting the part Maurice obviously played in his own downfall, they agreed not to involve Constable Harris with regard to Dawn Simmons until her father had been told.
‘Me an’ George are going up now to find ’er. She’s only ten and I expect ’e’ll be glad we saw ’im first.’ Nelly looked back at the cottage, mellow in the early evening sun, a few early roses drooping heavy heads, the last of the blossom on the apple tree patterning the ground below it. There was a peaceful stillness and beauty about the place, which Nelly’s loud ear-piercing voice suddenly shattered, calling for George to hurry. This started the dogs off again and Amy, Margaret and Victor thankfully left her.
* * *
‘Will you stay for tea, Uncle Victor?’ Margaret asked as they walked out of the village, past the house where her Auntie Prue used to live. ‘I never have a game of Monopoly now Freddie’s gone to the army. It’s boring with only Mam.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Only it’s better with three,’ Margaret smiled. ‘Will you stay?’
‘I’d love to, Margaret, but it’s up to your mam.’ Victor lit a cigarette as an excuse to give Amy time to reply. When he looked up again, Margaret was smiling.
‘Mam agrees, so, will you?’
‘I bet I beat the pair of you!’
‘One game only,’ Amy said firmly, ‘and put that cigarette out before you come in!’
The one game went on a lot longer that they expected and Victor was amazed to realise that Margaret was cheating. Not to win, but to prolong the game. Every time he was getting low in money she would conveniently forget to demand rent when he stood on one of her properties. When Amy went to see to the baby, he leaned towards the grinning girl and said, ‘You, Margaret Prichard, are a cheat!’
‘I know I am,’ she whispered back, ‘but it’s making Mam forget it’s bedtime.’
The baby was settled into her cot and Amy had put Margaret’s nightdress to warm. Victor sensed he was outstaying his welcome. He stood up and gestured to the clock.
‘Sorry Margaret, but I really have to go. I think when we count up, you will have won. And there was me boasting I’d knock you both out of the game in an hour!’
He picked up the cups and plates left from tea-time and took them into the kitchen, collecting his coat from the hook on the back of the door.
‘Don’t go for a moment,’ Amy said. ‘I’ll just see Margaret into bed and we’ll have another cup of tea.’
‘If you’re sure…’ His eyes held a question.
‘I’m sure people will gossip whether you stay an extra hour or not.’
While Amy read a story to Margaret and tucked her in, he counted up the score and put the game away. When Amy returned he was sitting near the fire, staring into the coals, looking thoughtful and a little sad.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
He turned and smiled, opening his arms to her and as she stepped closer he held her tightly against him.
‘I enjoy being here with you and Margaret and it makes me sad too.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s such a small, precious part of my life. The rest is so empty. Amy, I only come alive when I’m with you.’
‘Victor, I won’t—’
‘You know I love you.’
‘I won’t get involved. I won’t!’
‘I just want you to know, I will leave Imogine one day.’
‘Will you? Will you leave Delina? Or Daniel, or David? David is only twelve.’
‘I know I can’t leave until David is old enough to cope. It’s a long time to ask you to wait, but when he’s eighteen and able to manage without the little I give to the family, then I’ll leave.’
‘Five or six years? And how many years after that before you are free?’
‘I know it’s asking too much. You’re still young and there’s that Billie Brown with so much more to offer than I’ll ever have. But I want you to know how I feel and that my constant dream is that miraculously we’ll find a way to be together.’
He sat holding her hand and staring into the fire. Amy stood beside him breathing shallowly, silent, and moved by his words. The slightest move on his part then and she would have been in his arms and kisses would have opened the locked doors and allowed love to flow free. She almost made that first small move herself; the temptation was so strong it was choking her to stand mute and unyielding.
It was as he rose to reach once more for his coat that the magnetic force drawing them together became irresistible. He reached past her for the garment which he had thrown across a chair and Amy moved at the same time so they touched. Their arms circled each other and the kiss that followed was so sweet that tears escaped from Amy’s closed eyes.
‘I want you so much,’ he murmured and she pulled free.
‘No, it would make things impossible. It’s wrong for us.’
‘Ill-timed, yes, but not wrong.’
‘Wrong for us now with so many obstacles in our way. Please, Victor, you’re making it very difficult. Margaret is upstairs and not even asleep. I can’t risk hurting her.’
His arms slowly released her and he stepped away from her. ‘Neither can I, love. You’re right.’ He picked up his coat, walked to the door and left without another word.
A few moments later there was a knock at the door and she gave a cry. If Victor walked back in she would not be able to turn him away. She held her breath as she opened the door and her heart fell into a chasm of disappointment. It was Morgan Morgan, who was running the building firm while her sister was ill. He called each weekend to collect the books which she was supposed to inspect. She handed them to him with a forced smile, unable to decide whether she was relieved to have escaped the ultimate decision with Victor or sorry she had lost the chance to change her mind.
Chapter Three
Nelly had failed to see Dawn Simmons and her father on the previous day, so after her morning’s work for Dorothy Williams, who lived near The Drovers, she went home for a sandwich and a sleep, then set out again hoping to find either Dawn or her father at home. As she reached her gate she saw the sheep dog belonging to Farmer Leighton and looked up and down the lane, smiling at the prospect of a chat, although chatting was difficult with Leighton, who rarely said more than two or three words at a time.
She saw him walking up the lane from the direction of his field beside the lane. He was carrying two buckets which he proceeded to fill at the tap beside her gate.
‘’Ello, what you doing with my tap?’ she joked.
‘Hello, Nelly. You’ve got a couple of new neighbours.’
‘Sheep?’ she asked. ‘I won’t let Bobby an’ Spotty bother ’em, you know that.’
>
‘No, my horses will be permanent residents now. I’ve retired them and bought a tractor,’ he explained.
‘You ain’t?’ Nelly said in disbelief. ‘You workin’ without your ’orses? I never thought I’d see the day.’
He filled the buckets and walked beside her towards the main road, stopping at the gate on the corner to enter the field. There, beside the hedge was an old bath which he was filling with water.
‘Your George and I will be busy over the next few days building a shelter for them,’ Leighton smiled. ‘Good with the tools, he is.’
‘An’ so is my Ollie,’ Nelly said. ‘Can ’e come an’ watch yer? ’E’ll ’elp too if you’ll let ’im.’
Leighton nodded, his burst of conversation ended. Nelly watched him walk over to the bath and empty his buckets and return to the tap for more water. She’d never known him to smile so widely. Was it excitement at the prospect of the new tractor or pleasure at the thought of his beloved horses enjoying a well-earned retirement, she wondered.
She looked back up the field and noticed that a pile of wood had been left in the corner near the gate, presumably for the new shelter. She felt a brief sadness. Nothing stayed the same, not even the village. No horses on either Billie Brown’s farm or Leighton’s – it didn’t seem possible. Life was just about perfect, why did everything have to change?
She looked across the road at the row of cottages which included the fish-and-chip shop and Amy’s shop. That row seemed to stay the same. The people who lived there seemed never to quite belong to the rest of the village. It was as if the main road were an impenetrable barrier and those behind it hid themselves away. Many of the houses had belonged to the same families for several generations, the tenancies passing from mother to child and, oddly enough, most of the people in that row went out to work. Even after retirement from the shops and offices which had encapsulated their careers, they preferred to shop in Llan Gwyn, and only used Amy’s shop for emergencies.
For no other reason than a desire to pass a little time before calling on Dawn’s father, she crossed the road and went along the back lane behind the cottages. She glanced into the yard behind the fish-and-chip shop and called a greeting to Griff Evan’s wife, Hilda, who was washing freshly cut chips in a bath of cold water. Although it was June and not particularly cold, the woman looked chilled.
The Changing Valley Page 4