Facing the World (19 page)

One of his crutches was kept in the shed in case he needed to get up and reach something. She took the second one into the shed and placed it beside the first, glaring at him before reaching for her bicycle and heading off to work. He hid his distress. He knew he’d let her down and she deserved more than he’d been able to give.

When a few minutes had passed and he was sure she wouldn’t return to continue the tirade, Gwilym took out the artificial leg on which he’d been working, referred to the book with its illustrations, and carried on with the task. He was ready to hide it when he heard the approach of footsteps.

Almost every time Sally returned from work David was near, having brought firewood or some plants, or just with something to report. He sometimes went in and shared a cup of tea and some biscuits – often made by his mother. Mostly he just had a brief word, played with Sadie while she sorted out the meal, then left.

‘I know you’re busy, I only came to see that you and Sadie are all right,’ he’d say as he waved goodbye. One day, a week after Amy and Rick’s wedding, he was bursting with news.

‘I’ve got a job!’ he said. ‘Not what I’d hoped for, not proper carpentry, but it’s work.’

‘David! I’m so pleased. I’m sure it will lead to better things.’

‘Maintenance it is, for a man who owns several boarding houses. The work is humdrum compared with what I do best, the money isn’t grand either. But it’s a start.’

‘Congratulations. I’m so pleased.’

‘Are you? Well, you should be. My starting work after all these months is down to you. Seeing how hard you work shamed me, Sally. You have Sadie to consider and what responsibilities have I got? None. I should have got started ages ago.’

‘Never mind, you’re starting now.’

‘Fixing new doors and repairing window frames. Not much of a start.’

‘Come on in and have tea with us. We’re only having beans on toast but there’s bread and butter pudding to follow, thanks to Valmai.’

As they sat and shared the meal set out on a small table near the fire, he talked.

‘I realize now that if I want a proper life, with a wife and a home and children one day, I have to make a start, even if the start is a long way from where I want to be. I’ve been a fool to let the years pass me by feeling sorry for myself. I’m no better than Gwilym who refuses to make the effort to get out of that house, allowing Valmai to work like she does. Worse, in fact, being stronger and younger. One day, I’ll be able to care for a wife and she won’t have to work. She’ll be like Amy with money to spare and freedom to enjoy it.’

He was looking at her strangely and Sally felt uncomfortable. Surely he wasn’t expecting her to be a part of his plan? ‘Come on, Sadie, time for bath and bed. Pass me Teddy Blue Ribbon, will you, David? Thanks for staying. It makes a change now and again.’

He handed the large teddy given to Sadie by Eric, with the blue ribbon around its neck, and reached for his coat.

‘Want any help with the dishes?’

‘No thanks, you go. You do enough for us without washing the pots.’

He put on his coat and suddenly leaned over and kissed her cheek before leaving. She locked the door after him and frowned. That was a complication she didn’t need.

Unaware of her frown, believing he had taken a couple of steps towards a stronger relationship with her, he was smiling when he went through his door. Rhys had been released by the police for now. But his time would come.

His mother was out and a saucepan on the stove was filled with hot water, keeping his plated supper warm. Ignoring it, he went up into the loft. The package was there undisturbed: the stolen items carrying Rhys’s fingerprints and no one else’s. If Rhys came back then it wouldn’t be long before the evidence was given to the police. With Rhys in prison for theft, Sally would put him out of her mind for good. ‘And,’ he said aloud, ‘I’ll be there.’

His new job was poorly paid, but with the occasional theft from unsuspecting people, walking into houses left unlocked while the owner was at the shops or even hanging out clothes in their garden when he felt particularly audacious, meant savings building up. One day, he’d be rich enough not to need this but until then there were always people too stupid to notice the small valuable items he took to unsuspecting dealers, who believed he was a market trader or antiques dealer. And besides, it was fun.

The repairs to various houses gave him added opportunity to search for items that were valuable but unlikely to be missed. Everyone, it seemed, had something of value, something special, often hidden away, their sentimental value no longer entitling them to be seen, but kept in a forgotten corner. Throughout the late summer and as autumn drew near, he added to his savings and by the time Christmas decorations began to be seen in shop windows, he had acquired an encouraging amount. Another year was almost at an end and there was still no sign of Rhys coming home. Perhaps now would be a good time to take his relationship with Sally a stage further.

Valmai, with the minimal information given by Sally, had visited Bristol several times during the past months but had failed to find her son. She tried at the house described to her by Sally and there was no one there who knew him from the photograph she took to show
around. One neighbour did remember seeing him but assured her he didn’t live there, but used to visit a previous tenant. Valmai wasn’t sure whether that information was good news or not. If the woman and her child had moved out and Rhys was no longer seen, it seemed a possibility that they had moved away together. But where?

She went to the café to where letters had been sent one Friday afternoon. She had taken a few days’ holiday to concentrate on the search.

‘Yes, I know him but he hasn’t been here for months,’ she was told. She ordered tea and toast and sat, with the photograph on the table beside her, hoping someone would see it and be able to help her. A few people glanced as they passed, curiosity bringing them past the table instead of directly to the door.

‘Seen him, have you?’ Valmai asked a few times but was rewarded only by a shake of a head. Then as she was leaving a man stopped and asked, ‘Looking for Rhys, are you?’

‘Yes, he’s my son. Please, do you know where he is?’

Another shake of a head then the man said, ‘You could try Golden Harp Street. Don’t know the number but he was there for a while. Working on the roads he is. Council might help.’

She found the street and knocked on doors until she found someone who remembered him. There was another disappointment as she was told Rhys had moved out after only two weeks.

Valmai thanked the man, left her address in case he should ever see him, and headed for the train station. There was nothing more she could do that day. The council offices would be closed as it was after six o’clock on a Friday evening, but they’d be open on Monday and then she’d find him.

She was almost crying with relief when she knocked on Sally’s door.

‘I went to that café who held his letters and a man there knew him. He lived in Golden Harp Street for a couple of weeks but has moved again. He works on the roads. On Monday I’ll find him.’

Sally didn’t disguise her lack of interest. ‘Glad I am if you find him, but I don’t want to know. He treated me like a fool and
whatever
the reason, his whereabouts are no longer my concern.’

‘But he must be in some sort of trouble, Sally. You saw how ill he looked.’

‘Then he should have trusted me. If things went wrong he should have told me. I’d have helped, whatever trouble he was in, but now it’s too late. You can see that, can’t you?’

Sadly Valmai nodded. She went home feeling distressed and angry. By the time she opened her back gate, anger was the strongest emotion and she was prepared to remind Gwilym how he too had let her down. Voices in the shed halted her and she listened as Gwilym and Jimmy were discussing an imaginary game of cricket. She peeped in and saw the game in progress was on paper.

Gwilym put down the pencil he was using to describe various field positions and with a ball in his hand began demonstrating bowling techniques to a very interested Jimmy, who held another ball and followed Gwilym’s guide. Valmai went quietly into the house, anger dissipated, and allowed a few minutes to pass before calling to tell Gwilym she was home. Jimmy shared their meal. As usual, he was unwilling to go home.

On Monday, her last day, she once more set off for Bristol. The council offices were open and helpful staff tried to find her son, but eventually Valmai accepted that the lead that had excited her was taking her nowhere. She spent the day wandering around, trying various firms who might just employ him ‘on the roads’ but at five o’clock, weary and disheartened she caught the train back home. Time to give up, she decided. Rhys knew where to find them and they’d have to wait until he was ready to explain. Better to keep her job and concentrate on helping Sally and Sadie.

She was calm when she reached home and Gwilym was waiting for her, with the table set and soup simmering on the cooker.

‘No luck, love?’ he asked, stretching up to kiss her.

‘We won’t find him until he’s ready to be found.’

‘I’m sorry. I should be doing the running around, not you.’

She glared at him in rare anger. ‘Yes, Gwilym. You should.’

The long-awaited Sunday lunch with Amy and Rick was finally arranged in late November. As expected Gwilym and Valmai had declined the invitation so it was a small party. Amy’s mother was the only other guest and when Sally walked in with Sadie, she politely reminded Sally that everything was expensive and new, and the child would have to be watched so no damage was done.

‘Her name is Sadie,’ Sally said equally politely.

‘And she’s very welcome,’ Amy added, guiding Sally away from her mother into the dining room, where a fire burned and Christmas decorations added to the feeling of excitement. A tree stood in one corner and beneath it brightly packed parcels were stacked amid tinsel and tangled strips of green and red crepe paper. Sadie clung to her mother and stared around her with starry eyes.

‘I know it’s early, but as it’s our first Christmas in our first home, I want it to last as long as possible.’

Despite a few complaints from Dorothy, the occasion went well and it was three o’clock before Sally left. She and Amy shared amused glances as Dorothy brushed imaginary crumbs from the armchairs and tut-tutted about the plates left piled up ready for washing.

Rick walked with them as far as the gate. ‘Thanks for coming, Sally. Amy and I enjoyed it very much.’

‘You had a few doubts once, didn’t you?’ Sally whispered. ‘But now, anyone can see that you are happy. I’m so glad. Amy is a great person and I’m pleased to have her as a friend.’

‘Once we accepted that we were both on the same side regarding her mother’s interference, the doubts were gone. We’re repainting the bathroom pale blue as we both wanted, losing the dull grey she insisted on. The kitchen will soon be white and yellow, not green. The garden is not what I’d hoped for but it’s fine. In the summer it will be a pleasant place to sit, and I can still grow the vegetables I want. Eric, clever man, suggested an allotment. So yes, everything is perfect.’

Sally still needed to do something permanent about childcare. Sadie was three and it would be some time before she was at school. A
live-in
nanny would be perfect but paying for one wouldn’t leave her much spare money.

‘You don’t need a nanny for twenty-four hours, just the time between nursery ending and either you or me getting home,’ Valmai said, and persuaded Sally to agree.

‘Thank you. I’m so grateful to you both.’

‘I didn’t do anything,’ Gwilym said, looking down at the blanket that covered his legs. ‘I wish I had.’

‘Not too late!’ Valmai retorted. ‘When are you going to start helping young Jimmy? He needs help if he’s ever going to succeed at cricket and you’re the only one capable of helping the poor boy.’

‘It’s nearly Christmas. Hardly the weather for cricket!’

‘Football then! He only needs a few tips and lots of
encouragement
. Come on, you know what he has to put up with. It would make such a difference to him, you know that.’

The words were harshly spoken, but Sally knew Valmai wasn’t angry – she was trying to shame him into helping himself.

‘I’ll come to the field with you, whenever you want to go,’ she told him. ‘The one near the old mill, it’s quiet there, and one of Sadie’s favourite places. She and I would love to go with you.’

‘You mean out of sight, where I won’t be a sideshow,’ he muttered.

‘Oh, you’ll be a bit of a curiosity for a while,’ Sally agreed, ‘but only until people are used to seeing you about again. It’s been a long time and people are bound to come up and talk about your situation, but in a kindly way. Get that over with and you’ll wonder why you didn’t try before.’

‘Soon,’ he said. ‘Come the spring maybe.’

Sally smiled. ‘In the spring.’

When she set off for home a little later that evening, Sally heard crying. She went back into the house and said, ‘Someone’s crying and it sounds like Jimmy.’

Valmai went up and found Jimmy sitting on his back doorway. He looked up and in the slanting light from the kitchen she saw that his face was dirt-streaked and swollen with crying. She went to him and put an arm around him. Sitting beside him, she talked and coaxed him to go with her to where Gwilym was waiting anxiously.

Waving for Sally to go home, blowing a kiss to Sadie, she led the still sobbing boy into the house. He was very cold, wearing only a shirt and some ancient pyjama trousers that were too small. His feet were bare.

‘Mam’s out and I can’t find my pyjamas,’ he sobbed. Gathering him into a blanket, Valmai cuddled him, while Gwilym wheeled himself into the kitchen to put milk in a pan to make a hot drink. Half an hour later, Jimmy had been fed, comforted and was fast asleep, warmed by the cosy blanket, the roaring fire and loving care – luxuries he had been managing without for a long time.