The Changing Valley

by The Changing Valley (retail) (epub)

  ‘Oh,’ Tad added quickly, ‘I will pay you for the clothes and food you bought.’ Delina saw the firmness in his chin and decided not to argue.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘but there’s no hurry.’ She stood to go and Tad walked as far as the front gate. She felt shy, like a schoolgirl instead of a teacher. Trying to find something brief and telling as a final remark, she found her brain refused to work. It was Tad who said, ‘Please come again. I’d like to show you that I’m not really the ill-tempered lout I’ve appeared to be lately.’

  ‘We all show our distress in different ways,’ she said. ‘I haven’t been very good company these past months.’

  ‘Since your wedding was cancelled?’ he surprised her by saying. ‘The man must have been an idiot to let you go. Think of him like that and you’ll forget him easier. You wouldn’t have been happy married to a fool.’ Delina felt a blush of embarrassment and anger flow through her veins. How dare he! Gossip about her and then offer his advice as if she were the one with problems! It was not her who hit out and alienated people offering nothing but friendship! She walked away without another word.

  * * *

  Freddie returned to his camp and Amy sadly washed his bedding knowing that the times he would come home to her were likely to be limited. He was determined to take Sheila into his life and soon would have a place, other than this, to call home.

  Margaret was with Mrs French, having a piano lesson and the baby was sleeping, having produced her first tooth a few days before. Amy hung the washing on the clothesline and stood watching it blowing in the evening breeze. It was almost dark, but Mrs French always walked Margaret safely home after her lesson. She went back in the house which was already feeling hollow and empty, and turned on the wireless to fill the room with voices and music to push away the loneliness.

  She almost shouted her relief when there was a knock at the door. She opened it and saw Victor standing there. ‘Can I come in?’ he asked.

  Pleased as she was to see him, she did not show it, but grudgingly offered him a cup of tea, hinting that Margaret would be home soon, and there were things she had to do. Then, as he sat and began to talk to her she relaxed and began to feel the warmth and love that was between them. If only life could be this simple, she thought. Just me and Victor like this every evening. He sensed her softening mood and gently kissed her.

  ‘Victor, I can’t go on like this,’ she said when they sat, arms around each other on the couch. ‘I’m going back to Nelly’s idea of moving back to the flat. I have the strong feeling that I’m going to end up lonely here in this house. It was such a wonderful dream, me living here with Freddie and Margaret, but it’s all gone wrong.’

  ‘You can’t move back to that poky flat. You’d be so cramped it would drive you mad.’

  ‘In a while there’ll be too much space. Freddie has gone and if Sheila has her way he won’t be back. And Margaret, she’s seriously considering taking Mrs French’s offer to send her to a boarding school, and who’s to blame her? Prue is improving and one day soon she’ll take Sian back and I’ll be here all on my own with all the space I want. I couldn’t bear that, Victor.’

  ‘I wish I could come here with you, love. It’s my dream. The two of us and Margaret, and little Sian if possible, living here and being so content.’

  ‘That’s only a dream and it’s no good tormenting me with it, is it?’ Amy said, standing up and pushing his arms away. ‘Forget about dreams and tell me what I should do!’

  ‘I can’t leave the boys, but if—’

  ‘Stop using the word if and stop talking about dreams, will you? Go, Victor, it’s best you go. I think I will marry Billie Brown. At least he’s free and he loves me.’

  ‘I love you, Amy. You must believe that?’

  ‘Billie is free to love me. That you aren’t, not ever will be. You won’t leave your wife; the boys are just an excuse. She doesn’t need you and neither do they, but I do need someone. If it can’t be you then why shouldn’t I marry Billie? Victor, I’m sick of being alone!’

  Victor said nothing for a while; the silence went on and on as Amy glared at him, willing him to argue with her. Finally he said, ‘All right, marry the farmer, and pluck chickens and see lambs going off to be slaughtered. I can just see you enjoying that!’

  ‘It won’t be like that. I’ll still have the shop.’

  ‘Oh no you won’t! Billie will expect you there, playing second fiddle to that sister of his.’

  Amy’s shoulders drooped even more. ‘What else can I do?’

  ‘I want you and I love you. Can’t you wait, carry on as we are, until the boys are old enough for me to leave them?’

  ‘Tell me why you stay with them? Can you honestly believe that the picture of married bliss you and Imogine display is better for them that a separation?’

  ‘You’d hate me if I showed less concern for them.’

  ‘Then I’ll marry Billie.’

  ‘You don’t love him you love me!’

  ‘Where has love ever got me? You haven’t understood what I’ve been saying. Yes, I love you, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for something most women have for fifty years! A man of my own, someone sitting opposite me when I eat breakfast and supper.’ The baby woke at the same time as Margaret came through the door. She kissed her mother and hugged Victor then went to try out her new piano pieces. Amy and Victor continued their discussion in whispers until Victor burst out laughing.

  ‘Talk about a farce,’ he said. ‘We can’t even have a good row. Standing here whispering insults at each other, it’s a waste of breath and kissing time.’ He kissed her again, leaning against the door so Margaret couldn’t interrupt them. They began dancing to a waltz coming from the piano, and laughing at the stupidity of it all.

  ‘I have a present for you, Amy. Will you take it? It isn’t a bribe to stop you marrying Billie.’ He took a tissue-wrapped package from his pocket and handed it to her.

  Amy stared at the gold watch in surprise.

  ‘But how did you get it back?’ she asked.

  ‘What d’you mean “get it back”? I bought it for you.’

  ‘But, Victor, it’s mine. It was my mother’s, the one stolen the night of the burglary.’

  Victor sank into a chair in horror.

  ‘But, I bought it,’ he repeated. ‘In a pub. I had the money from that win on the horses, weeks back and I’ve been adding to it and…’ he took it from her and looked at it. ‘Sure, are you, that it’s the same one?’

  ‘I’d hardly mistake it. Victor we’ll have to tell Constable Harris, won’t we?’

  ‘Yes, but, will he believe me?’

  ‘Of course he will. You’re taking it back, aren’t you?’

  ‘I bought it from someone I don’t know, in a pub I rarely visit. I got the money – thirty pound, I paid – from a win on the horses, but the bet was an illegal one with Griff Evans – and who will back me up on any of it? Certainly not Griff!’ He looked at her, handing the watch back. ‘Can’t you say you found it, slipped down behind a cushion or something?’

  ‘Who saw you at that pub?’

  ‘No one I remember, so there wouldn’t be anyone there who’d remember me. Oh…’ he thought a moment, ‘I think there was someone who would remember. That Sheila Davies was there, drinking on her own as bold as brass, she was. I spoke to her, only “hello”, like, but she’d remember, wouldn’t she?’

  ‘We’ll go and see her now. Come on. Margaret won’t mind a walk instead of bed.’

  * * *

  Sheila was surprised to see them, and showed them into the kitchen, explaining that her grandmother was in bed.

  ‘Sheila, do you remember a few weeks ago, seeing me in a pub in town? Llan Gwyn, that is.’

  ‘No? How could I? I don’t go into pubs. My parents get upset if I do. Not worth the agony of their complaining. And Freddie wouldn’t like it either. So, no, how could I have seen you in a pub in, where did you say?’


  ‘Llan Gwyn. I spoke to a group of men who had some jewellery for sale. Surely you remember, Sheila?’

  ‘Not me, you must have mistaken someone else for me; it’s easily done, I should imagine.’ She smiled and asked, ‘Would you like a cup of cocoa? I’m just off to bed to read. I still need plenty of rest, Freddie says.’

  * * *

  Amy and Victor walked back along Nelly’s lane, a torch touching the hedge with light.

  ‘I don’t need to tell you that I don’t believe her, do I?’ Amy said bitterly. ‘I still think we should tell the constable. He’ll know you’re telling the truth.’

  ‘I was convicted of stealing once before, remember? Why should they believe me?’

  ‘I do, Uncle Victor,’ Margaret said, putting her hand in his.

  ‘Thank you, Margaret. You’re my best friend,’ Victor said.

  They had just got back to Amy’s house when there was a knock at the door. Victor opened it with a racing heart. If this were the police, he would regret not going to them straight away. But it was Nelly’s face that greeted him. She held a torch below her chin that lit up her crooked grin.

  ‘’Ere, you ’eard the latest then?’ she asked pushing her way in to Amy, the dogs searching the floor for scraps. ‘That Griff Evans ‘as only got ’imself arrested fer burglaries. What d’you think of that, then?’

  ‘Never!’

  ‘Yes. ’E’s bin ’oldin’ on to bets and spendin’ money on that daft Milly Toogood’s daughter and got ’imself in a right mess borrowin’. He took to robberies to get ’imself sorted out an’ made things worse.’ She paused and beamed at them all, including Margaret who came down in her pyjamas to hear the news. ‘An’ what’s more,’ Nelly added, ‘it was my George what set Constable ’Arris on the trail.’

  ‘How was that, then?’ Amy asked, looking at Victor in relief.

  ‘He told ’Arris about knockin’ the exhaust down so it looked as if it was broken or somethin’. George’ll explain better ’n me. But it was enough to make the constable go and look proper at Griff’s old bike and there you are!’ She gasped for breath and said plaintively, ‘Can I ’ave a cuppa? Rushin’ ’ere to tell you ’as made me throat as rough as a coal-’ole.’

  ‘For bringing us such good news I can do better than that.’ Amy opened the sideboard and brought out a couple of bottles. ‘It’s a day for celebrations, Nelly. I found my watch today, under one of the cushions, would you believe?’ She smiled at Victor, aware of how near they had been to making a lot of explanations that might or might not have been believed.

  Victor poured drinks while Nelly filled in more details.

  ‘Gawd ’elp, that Hilda was as mad as ’ell! Tried to thump Milly Toogood’s daughter she did. Wish I’d bin there to see it,’ she added sorrowfully. ‘An’ she said she’d murder Griff when the police ’ave finished with ’im.’

  ‘Surely that was an act? A wife must know when her husband is out at night?’ Victor said doubtfully.

  ‘What an’ ’im bein’ a poacher? ’E’s out more than ’e’s in! An’ they say ’e’s got a partner in crime! Someone workin’ at the forestry an’ livin’ over near Llan Gwyn. I don’t know who ’e is but Phil will be sure to find out by the mornin’ post. Everyone is that relieved! In spite of what old ’Arris said, there’s a good many convinced it was poor Harry Beynon’s killer on the loose. Bad enough it being one of us but at least Griff ain’t no murderer.’

  Nelly sipped her drink, silent for a while, remembering the day of Harry’s death, then she smiled at Margaret, sitting quietly enjoying the delay of her bed time.

  ‘I heard you playin’ when I came up the drive. Play somethin’ fer me, will yer?’

  As Margaret went back to the piano, Victor prepared to leave. Amy stopped him with a gesture.

  ‘Wait a while, Victor, I want to talk to you,’ she pleaded. Nelly lowered her head, warning Amy that she did not approve of Victor’s presence.

  ‘Walk back with me, why don’t yer?’ she said. ‘I thought I’d go as far as Ethel’s to tell ’er what’s ’appened. That’ll be a change fer me to tell ’er something before that son of ’ers!’

  ‘No, Nelly,’ Amy’s voice was firm. ‘I need Victor’s help with the books.’

  ‘Oh yeh?’ Nelly whispered harshly, then settled down to listen to Margaret’s playing.

  They all listened silently, enjoying the romantic melody and the faultless playing, then Nelly noticed that Amy was upset.

  ‘Lovely, that was,’ she said when the music ended. ‘As good as the wireless any day. That Mrs French is a good teacher, ain’t she?’

  ‘She wants Margaret to go away to a private school where she’ll get regular tuition and encouragement,’ Amy said softly. ‘I know it’s best for Margaret, but what about me?’

  Nelly thought for a moment then said, ‘Best fer ’er in some ways, Amy. But you’ll lose your little girl if she goes. She won’t be the same.’

  ‘That’s what frightens me,’ Amy said. Then she forced a smile as Margaret returned and gave her daughter a hug. ‘That was good, Margaret, love, although I think you lost the tempo a little towards the end. But I expect you’re tired, it’s very late.’

  ‘It wasn’t that, Mam. I found myself listening to you to see if you were talking about me and I forgot the music for a moment. You were talking about me, weren’t you?’

  ‘Only after you’d stopped playing, love.’ Amy said. ‘And everything we said was pride and pleasure.’

  When Nelly had gone on her way to spread the news about Griff, Amy and Victor asked Margaret what she really felt about Mrs French’s offer to pay for the private school.

  ‘Mostly I don’t want to go away, Mam. I wouldn’t be happy, not seeing you for days at a time. But then it sounds so exciting and I think it’s a wonderful idea. Oh, Mam I can’t decide.’ She turned to Victor. ‘What should I do, Uncle Victor?’

  ‘Only you can make up your mind, Margaret. I wish I could help, but the decision must be yours.’

  ‘Would Mrs French be very upset if I said no?’

  ‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to and I have to admit I would prefer you to stay with me,’ Amy said. ‘But I’m afraid my reasons are all selfish ones. You would benefit so much, love. It would widen your knowledge of music and many other things besides. So, think about it a bit longer, will you, then talk to me about it again. You don’t have to rush and make a decision. Take all the time you want. All right?’

  ‘Margaret.’ Victor took the girl’s hands in his. ‘It’s important you remember one thing. Whatever you decide you won’t be letting anyone down.’

  ‘Do you think we have time for a game of monopoly before I go to bed, Uncle Victor?’ she asked.

  Amy nodded at Victor, sensing that Margaret needed something trivial to take her mind off the decision she had to make. Amy regretted mentioning the subject of the school so near the end of the day when the idea might take hold and prevent Margaret from sleeping. While Margaret went to fetch the board she whispered to Victor, ‘Let her play as long as needs, will you?’

  ‘Until she falls asleep if necessary,’ he agreed.

  At ten-thirty, Amy carried Margaret upstairs and put the sleepy girl into her bed.

  ‘Goodness, love, I won’t be able to carry you upstairs much longer. You’ll have to carry me soon!’ Margaret smiled but was too tired to reply.

  Victor was washing the cocoa cups when she went back down. She stood behind him, her arms around his waist and hugged him, her face pressed into his shoulder.

  ‘Thank you, Victor, love.’

  He turned, wiped his hands then took her into his arms.

  ‘I love Margaret as I love you,’ he murmured, his lips touching her sweet-smelling hair. ‘For ever, for better or worse.’ He paused and she felt him pull away from her before adding, ‘As I once promised to love Imogine.’

  ‘We all start out with ideas of perfection,’ Amy said. ‘For me it was Harry Beynon, who love
d me yet married my sister, Prue.’

  ‘With us it would be perfection. Wait for me, Amy. Please, wait.’

  ‘If Margaret goes away to school we’d meet more often. We’d have to be careful, of course. But there would be more time together.’

  ‘Time. Now there’s a luxury.’

  Neither of them saw the small figure in the pink dressing gown stop half way down the stairs then return to her room, sleep dispelled, to lie on her bed and stare at the ceiling. She saw in the cracked surface faces of disapproving people who didn’t want her to come home ever again. Amy found her still awake when Victor had finally gone home.

  ‘Do you want more time with Uncle Victor?’ Margaret asked. ‘If you like I won’t ask him to play games with me again. That will give you more time.’

  Amy guessed she had overheard some of the conversation and thanked heaven that she had been made aware of it.

  ‘I shouldn’t be seeing Victor, although we both like him very much and he loves you like his own daughter,’ she said gently. ‘He has a wife, and people talk, say unkind things. I don’t want you to be upset by any talk. If you weren’t here I would be so very unhappy. I’d want to see Victor more than ever; he’s a very kind friend to us both. But if you decide not to go away, then I won’t need him so much. But love, he enjoys playing games with you. You’re much better at them than I am. Don’t stop asking him to play.’

  Amy turned out the light and tucked herself in beside her daughter and slept with her arms around her until morning.

  Chapter Twenty

  The den in the woods near Nelly’s cottage had not been a success. Margaret had imagined it would be a place where she and Oliver could meet, share books, enjoy an occasional picnic and a place that was their own. Dawn had spoilt it for her. She seemed to appear the moment she and Oliver pulled down the rope-ladder Billie had made for them. One evening, on their way out of school, she asked Oliver if he would go there with her.