Facing the World (25 page)

Then his luck changed and he was interviewed for the position of carpenter with a small building firm. He demonstrated his
knowledge
and mentioned his intention of marrying. That was an incentive for a young man to find regular work and implied he would be a
reliable
employee. Although he hadn’t been in employment for two and a half years, his reference from his previous job supported that, and he was given a month’s trial.

Tonight he would tell Sally and ask her to marry him. They could live with Mam for a while, or perhaps they’d live in the house she rented in School Lane. He daydreamed happily all the way home. Then he saw Rhys.

Rhys had walked into his father’s workshop unannounced. Gwilym’s reaction was shock, not at seeing his son but at how thin and ill he looked. But he showed no pleasure at his appearance; he just stared at him as though at a stranger.

‘Hello, Dad. Sorry I didn’t stay for Christmas. There were things I had to finish. Now they’re done and I can come home, once I’ve been to the police and sorted out any accusations they have. I didn’t do the—’

‘Don’t tell me, son,’ Gwilym interrupted angrily. ‘It’s Sally who should hear what you have to say. Then your mother and I will listen. Sally first. Right?’

‘Of course. I was only going to tell you I didn’t burgle any houses. I’ve never stolen anything in my life.’

Gwilym stared at him, his eyes cold. ‘Haven’t you? That’s
something
you’ll need to talk to Sally about, too! There are many ways of stealing.’

‘But I’ll—’

Again Gwilym interrupted him. ‘Talk to Sally. Not me or your mother. It’s Sally who needs to understand why you took money – not stole it, took it. If there’s a difference I don’t know it.’

‘I’ll go to the house and wait for her.’

‘Best you do. Don’t come here until you’ve spoken to her, right?’

Rhys nodded and went out. Gwilym put down the plane he was holding and sat, head bowed, wondering what possible
explanation
Rhys could find for the disgraceful way he had behaved towards Sally and their daughter, Sadie. Whatever had been happening, Rhys was so thin and gaunt, it can’t have been pleasant. Perhaps he’d been too hasty? But no. Sally was entitled to hear what he had to say before the rest of them. He doubted if it would be convincing.

David had followed Rhys from a distance and saw that he hadn’t stayed long with Gwilym. He’d be going to wait for Sally. She was
meeting Sadie herself today, so he’d go to the nursery and walk back with her. Better if he were there when they met.

He watched from the shadows as Sadie came out with Sally. They were holding hands and Sadie was chattering, presumably about her day, and Sally was bending over slightly to listen above all the noise created by the other children. He stepped forward and asked. ‘Did you have a good day, Sadie?’

Sally looked up and smiled. ‘This is a nice surprise, David.’

‘I’ve come to tell you I have a job.’

‘Marvellous! I’m so pleased. I know you weren’t happy doing unsatisfactory repairs for a boss who didn’t want to pay for a decent job.’

‘You understand me so well.’ He leaned over and kissed her cheek, then bent to kiss the top of Sadie’s head.

‘What is the new job?’ she asked. He explained about the work on building sites and made it sound as though his carving skills would be valued, rather than fixing ready-made roofing timbers with several other men.

‘Rhys is back,’ he told her as they drew near to School Lane. She stopped and stared at him. ‘Sally, don’t let him wriggle out of what he’s done. He’ll have prepared some story hoping you’re willing to believe it. Nothing can excuse what he did to you and Sadie, and,’ he whispered softly, ‘to dear little Samuel.’

‘I don’t want to see him.’

‘Then don’t, love. Come back with me. Mam’ll give Sadie
something
nice to eat and we can stay until we think Rhys has given up hope.’

They went to see a delighted Mrs Gorse who opened biscuits and tinned ham and raided the fridge and in a short time the table was filled with salads, meats, cheeses and a huge plateful of bread and butter. Sadie chattered away and they enjoyed a pleasant hour.

When they walked back to the house, there was no sign of Rhys, and David stood outside for a while, after listening to keys turn and bolts thrust home. Before walking away he went around the house to check the back in case Rhys was waiting for him to leave. There was no sign of him, but he almost tripped over a man’s glove. It might be Rhys’s and that might be handy. He picked it up, using a
handkerchief
to grasp it.

He smiled into the darkness. Satisfied, he went off, not back home, but into the fields. Time for another burglary perhaps? Although the coincidence might be too much for the police to accept, it would be too obvious. Instead, he’d just break into a house and drop it. Disturb the larder, as though Rhys had stayed there. He didn’t seem to have anywhere else to go.

Walter watched from the darkness of the fir trees on the drive as the man passed him. There was a flicker of a torch and he saw the man’s face. David Gorse! He watched as the window was opened and he saw David look around before getting in. So that’s the game, is it? Everyone suspecting Rhys Martin and David showing how easy it was. He slipped back into the fir trees edging the drive of the house. He wanted to make sure. Carefully he placed a branch on the dark drive and waited, hoping David, if it was he, would trip.

He held his breath as he heard the sound of the window sliding back down, then David walked calmly back towards the gate. He stifled laughter as he saw him trip and issue a couple of loud
expletives
. No doubt at all. That was David Gorse.

He’d say nothing until tomorrow, when news of the robbery came out, then he’d tell the police what he had seen. Honest, upright citizen that he was. That would be a start towards getting the Martins on his side, a first step towards Netta letting him come back home.

David went home, and although it was very late, in her bedroom, unable to sleep after the excitement of Sally and Sadie’s visit, Mrs Gorse glanced at the clock. She rose and went down. ‘I couldn’t sleep, David, shall I make us a cup of cocoa? That might settle me and you look frozen and in need of something warm.’

When his mother finally slept, David went up into the loft to check once more on his evidence. He eased the wrapping paper away and almost shouted in dismay. The silver bowl shone and the picture too was as clean as any seen in a gallery. They had been cleaned. His stupid mother had found them and polished them, removing any evidence of Rhys’s fingerprints.

He eventually calmed down. Rhys wouldn’t know and the threat would be enough to keep him away from Sally. The police would
still be interested and he could leave them somewhere to implicate Rhys.

To Walter’s surprise nothing was said about a break-in the following day and he went back to the house. No lights. The tenants were still not home. Well, he’d noted the time and the details; he could wait.

Stories about the break-in spread two days later. ‘Not exactly a burglary. Apparently someone had broken in and had taken only food,’ Valmai was told.

‘Some poor homeless wanderer,’ Netta said, when Valmai shared the news and the two women stared at each other.

‘Could it have been your Rhys?’

Valmai shook her head. ‘Eric told me he was staying at a small hotel on Cardiff Road. I doubt if he’s so hard up that he’d steal food. He’d come to us before he did something as stupid as that.’

Gwilym was listening and he nodded agreement. He didn’t feel that he knew his son any more, but he was convinced that he wouldn’t have broken into a house.

‘Whatever’s wrong, Rhys wouldn’t steal anything,’ he said to Valmai, later. He’d said nothing to her about Rhys’s brief visit, waiting anxiously to learn that his son had offered explanations to Sally. He was curious about the delay. Had Sally refused to listen to him? Or simply not believed him? Who could blame her, he thought sadly.

When the police came and asked where they could find him, he told them where his son could be found. There was nothing to hide and pretending he didn’t know would have been a foolish move. When they heard that Rhys was at the police station, rumours abounded and soon everyone was convinced that he was under arrest. Gwilym knew then that he had to do something, and fast.

Contingency plans had been made and the information he needed gathered. He was anxious about what he had to do but determined that this time he would do something to help. That night, when Valmai was asleep, Gwilym struggled to get out of the house using the wheelchair, his crutches across his knees.

He found the journey very tiring; the exercises he’d been doing hadn’t really prepared him for the effort needed. Cutting across the
fields, via the regularly used paths and on past the old mill, he reached School Lane and went into the house where Freddie Carter lived. He knew the man was away from home and also knew that Freddie rarely locked the door, even when he was staying with his daughter in Bath.

He opened the door, planning to pick up one or two things then leave them in the garden as though the thief had been interrupted. With his crutches, he moved into the living room and there, snoring, sprawled across the couch, was Freddie. Tucking a couple of silver ornaments in his pocket, taking a silver framed photograph in another pocket, he backed quietly out and, leaving the door open, he struggled back to the mill. He left all he had taken, then slowly, painfully, made his way back home. His leg was aching after the short walk using crutches and his arms were trembling with fatigue. He wondered if he’d be able to get up the path and back into the house before dawn broke.

As far as he could tell no one had seen him. With Rhys in custody, the robbery would make it plain to the police that someone else was responsible.

He got out of the chair and was about to collapse on to the day bed when he saw to his consternation that someone was in the room. ‘Valmai?’

‘Can you tell me how you can move about so well while all this time you’ve insisted that you can’t go further than the shed? You’ve been out for hours, Gwilym. Where have you been?’

Valmai was sitting in the armchair, barely visible in the dark room. ‘This is what you’ve been planning, is it? Robbery? So you go to prison instead of Rhys?’

He flopped into the bed and wondered if the pain would ever go away. ‘No,’ he said, trying not to show his discomfort. ‘Not that. I thought that if there was a burglary Rhys couldn’t have done, the police might start looking for someone else. I thought of this a long time ago, and I’ve been waiting for an opportunity. With Rhys held by the police he has a perfect alibi.’

‘But he hasn’t, they released him hours ago. He’s back in the hotel long since.’

Recriminations followed as Valmai made Gwilym promise to go back to the hospital and get help to become mobile once again. It
was Valmai who ran back to Freddie’s house and replaced all the items Gwilym had taken. Freddie snored happily on.

The following day the police came again. Freddie had insisted that, although nothing had been stolen, someone had been in his house. Things had been moved and the door had been left wide open. PC Harvey warned him about locking doors and left, convinced the man had been mistaken. Still, it might be worth having a chat to Rhys Martin again.

‘Where are you staying now?’ he asked when he saw Rhys later that day. ‘Back with your parents?’

‘No, I have a room in a hotel.’

He gave the name and the constable asked, ‘Out late last night, weren’t you? Someone said you were down by the old mill. Funny how that place attracts people. You were there last night, weren’t you?’

‘Not me. I like the comfort of a warm bed. It’s David Gorse who likes wandering at night.’

Walter also alerted the police to David Gorse’s night-time
wanderings
. They were aware of the many times he had been seen crossing the fields during the hours of darkness. He’d been stopped on several occasions and had even shared his flask of coffee with a policeman once or twice. He had explained that he watched wildlife,
particularly
badgers. ‘And as dawn breaks all goes still and utterly quiet, then the stillness is broken by birdsong as one by one they wake,’ he said. ‘The morning chorus in the spring is magical; well worth getting up early for, you ought to try it,’ he had enthused.

Harvey laughed. ‘As a constable used to working every shift man can devise, the nights hold no secrets from me.’

Although they doubted the man was responsible for the
burglaries
, a woman police constable was sent to talk to David’s mother.

‘Come in, dear,’ Mrs Gorse said, opening the door wide in welcome. ‘Sit down in that chair near the fire and I’ll make us a nice cup of tea.’ She was always pleased to greet visitors and opened tins to offer cakes and biscuit, chatting all the time.

‘Your son spends a lot of time out in the fields, doesn’t he? Keen on wildlife, I believe.’

‘Yes, but it’s not the real reason he walks around at night. He can’t sleep, see. He can’t get work. He comes in very quiet, like, tries
not to disturb me. I did hear him come in the other night and I got up and made us a nice cup of cocoa.’ She sighed. ‘He’s never slept properly since the factory closed and he lost his job. Loved that job he did.’

‘Such a shame about the factory closing, wasn’t it? Men lost more than their jobs when the place closed down. More than two years some have been out of work. Your David working now, is he?’

‘Yes, got a job on the buildings. Not a proper use of his talents, mind, but he’s very friendly with Sally Travis and needs more money than I can spare him.’ She leaned closer and said confidentially, ‘I’m hoping he’ll settle down and marry.’

‘You’ll miss him. I expect he spoils you.’

‘Yes he does.’ She placed the tray on a small table and again the confidential whisper. ‘I’ll be fifty in a couple of weeks and I think I’ve found the present he bought for me. It’s a beautiful silver bowl. He loves nice things and never buys anything new. Prefers the old quality stuff.’