Finders and Keepers (62 page)

‘Yes, please, Mrs Edwards, a pint of ale would go down a treat.' Harry pulled some money from his pocket. He turned to Toby. ‘Do you want to rent my house in Pontypridd?'

‘Next door to Bella? I'll pay twice the going rate,' Toby burst out enthusiastically.

‘The going rate will be fine. I warn you my father is not thrilled with the idea but if you promise not to be too intrusive he'll put up with you. And I'll let you into a secret: Bella pleaded your cause with me.'

‘The angel. You sharing it with me?'

‘I hope not.' Harry took a long pull at his pint.

‘She loves you, Harry, I'm sure of it.'

‘Anthony Beatty said that David's up and about.' Harry deliberately ignored Toby's comment.

‘He is. But the doctor's warned him to take it slowly. His back muscles have been damaged and he won't be able to do any heavy work for a year or two.'

‘He won't have to,' Harry said.

‘Perhaps you should go and see him for yourself,' Toby hinted.

‘Perhaps I will,' he said casually. ‘I'll drive you up to Pontypridd when you're ready to move. You know the number of the Brecon office?'

‘I do.'

‘See you, Toby. Thanks for the pint, Mrs Edwards.'

‘That's a close-lipped young man.' Mrs Edwards took Harry's mug and put it on the tray of glasses waiting to be carried into the kitchen for washing. ‘I never thought when he came to Abercrave that he owned most of the farms around here. Did you, Mr Ross?'

Harry drove up the valley as he had done so many times before. He tried very hard not to look at Craig-y-Nos, but the castle was so massive it was impossible. It was going to be hard to live so close to the sanatorium but he hoped that eventually time would soften the pain associated with the building.

The two cottages nearest the Ellis Estate, which had been boarded up, were newly painted. Curtains hung at the windows and fluttered out in the breeze, and children played in front of the doors. The sun was already setting, an hour and half earlier than when he had first driven up the road that rainy afternoon in July when he had knocked Martha down. Two months ago yet so much had happened since then, it seemed like half a lifetime.

He pictured the farmhouse kitchen, and Mary cooking at the stove. Matthew would be bringing in the cows – he guessed David would find the limitations imposed by his injuries irksome. Martha, who according to Betty had progressed well with her reading and writing under her tutelage, would be teaching Matthew and possibly even David to read as well. And Luke would be crawling on the rug, playing with the toys he'd bought in Brecon and left in the farmhouse for him.

He slowed down when he drew close to the farmhouse. Twilight had fallen. He drove in through the arch. A lantern had been lit in the cowshed. Mr Jones, David and Matthew turned and looked out of the door, but David was standing back with his hands in his pockets. Even from a distance Harry could see that he resented being relegated to the role of bystander.

Harry left the car and touched his hat as the cowman and David did the same. Merlyn barked at him and bounded over. He ruffled the dog's fur.

‘Harry?' David called.

‘I'll see you inside.'

David nodded and disappeared back into the shed.

Harry went to the kitchen door, knocked as Diana had done and walked straight in.

‘Harry! Where have you been?' Martha left the table, ran to him and threw her arms around him. ‘We haven't seen you for ages,' she complained. ‘And my letters are so much better.'

‘And mine,' Matthew shouted. ‘We've been practising and practising, and Mrs Morgan has been teaching us and -'

Betty looked from Harry to Mary, before scooping Luke up from the hearthrug. ‘And Mrs Morgan is about to put Luke to bed so Mary can cook the supper. If you two come up with me, I'll read you another chapter of
Treasure Island.'

‘But Harry's just got here -'

‘And I'll still be here when you come down, Matthew.' Harry dropped the bag of books he'd brought for the children on to a chair. He waited until Betty had shepherded the children upstairs before walking over to Mary. ‘Hello.'

‘Hello.' She stirred the soup she'd made. ‘You've come for supper?'

‘No.' He took the spoon from her, opened her hand and put the bag of jewellery into it.

‘What's this?'

‘Jewellery, the kind a rich man gives to his wife.'

‘Harry, I told you -'

‘Open the bag.'

She did as he'd asked, and cried out, ‘Wherever did you get them?'

‘The police retrieved them. I could buy you new, but I thought that you might prefer these. Especially the wedding ring. I see it has your mother's and father's name engraved inside it. We could add ours – or get a new one.'

‘Harry.' David limped in. He was walking stiffly but was smiling.

‘How are you, David?'

‘Getting better. The doctor said I can walk as far as I like as long as I don't do any heavy lifting.' He saw his sister lay an extra bowl on the table ‘You come for supper, Harry?'

‘No.' Harry looked at Mary, and she nodded. ‘Not for supper, David.' He took the wedding ring from Mary and slipped it on to her finger. ‘I've come home.'

Tiger Bay Blues

CATRIN COLLIER

Chapter One

Edyth walked out of the back door of the substantial villa that her father had built on the outskirts of Pontypridd, opened the door to the outside pantry and shivered in the draught of freezing air that blasted out to meet her. At ten o'clock in the morning, the temperature was already high, but the stone-walled pantry had been sunk below ground level. Summer or winter it remained ice-cold, which was just as well for the numerous shrouded bowls and plates ranged on the marble slabs that lined the walls. For days their housekeeper, Mari, had been marshalling all the assistance she could commandeer from family and friends to prepare salads, cold fish and meat dishes, cheeses and desserts.

‘A veritable feast,' Edyth's youngest brother Glyn had declared when he'd been allowed to ‘lick out' the bowls used to mix the cakes and desserts. Although he was only six, he loved using long words, even when he didn't have a clue what they meant.

Edyth switched on the electric light her father had insisted the builder install, even in the outbuildings, walked down the steps and picked up one of the trays of rosebud buttonholes that she had helped her mother, sisters, aunts and cousins make the night before. To her relief, all the flowers still looked fresh. As did the bridesmaids' posies and bride's bouquet, which stood in buckets of water on the floor.

‘God bless Mari,' she murmured. The housekeeper's idea of wrapping the stems in damp cotton wool had worked, despite her sister's Bella's prediction that the flowers would wither in the heat and the only bridal bouquet she'd have was the faded blue and white wax one that their neighbour, old Mrs Hopkins, kept under a glass dome in her hall.

Edyth balanced the buttonhole trays on one arm, backed out and shut the pantry door before the warm air could reach the food. The plaintive notes of a lone saxophone playing the first few bars of ‘The Wedding March' drifted from the front lawn. She stopped to listen. Two hot, clammy hands closed around her waist from behind. She jumped, almost dropping the trays.

‘The band's arrived.'

‘Let me go, Charlie Moore,' she commanded irritably.

‘Didn't you hear me? I said the band's arrived.'

‘I have ears.' She set the trays on the kitchen window sill and turned to confront him. Charlie Moore was twenty-one and good looking, in a well-heeled, smooth kind of way. He was wealthy too, courtesy of his family's Cardiff shipping business. But – and she had found this to be an insurmountable ‘but', despite his family's friendship with Bella's fiancé, Toby – he was also arrogant and convinced that he was every woman's dream lover.

Instead of releasing her as she'd demanded, he locked his hands even tighter. ‘You weren't very nice to me at the reception to unveil Toby's paintings in my grandfather's shipping office.'

‘You weren't very nice to me,' she retorted.

‘All I did was kiss you. My cheek still hurts from the slap you gave me.'

‘You deserved a bruise after jumping out at me like that when I was leaving the cloakroom. You scared me half to death.'

‘Be nice to me and I'll show you a good time,' he wheedled. ‘My father gave me a sports car last week as a belated graduation present.'

‘Bully for you.'

‘We could go places. Cardiff, Swansea, Barry Island, Porthcawl …'

‘I've been to all of them.' She dug her nails into the back of his hands, but failed to dislodge his grip.

‘Not with me.'

‘I'm particular who I go out with.'

‘Come on, Edie, I know you want to kiss me.' He turned her around. ‘I can see your lips puckering right now.'

‘If they are it's because you've squeezed me so tight I'm going to be sick.' She opened her mouth as if she was about to retch. He stepped back in alarm. She laughed and opened the kitchen door.

‘Always joking, aren't you?' he griped.

‘Only with clowns.'

‘Seriously, Edyth, you will save me some dances at the reception, won't you?'

‘No.'

‘Come on, stop teasing. You know you're burning to be my girl.'

‘When I say something I mean it, Charlie Moore, and contrary to your belief I am not “burning to be your girl”. Now, go away, I'm busy.' She picked up the trays again.

‘I could carry those for you,' he offered.

‘No, thank you,' she refused tartly. ‘What are you doing here anyway? All the groomsmen should be next door at Toby's, helping him prepare for his big day.'

‘He sent me over.'

‘A likely story,' she scoffed.

‘It's true,' he protested.

‘Do you need help out here, Miss Edyth?' Spatula in hand, Mari came to the door. She looked from Edyth to Charlie.

‘Mr Moore appears to have lost his way. But I've just reminded him that he should be next door.' Edyth lifted the tray so the housekeeper could inspect it. ‘The flowers are perfect thanks to your idea of keeping the stems wrapped in damp cotton wool.'

‘Toby sent me over here to get buttonholes for the groomsmen but Edyth won't give me any,' Charlie complained to Mari.

‘You didn't ask for buttonholes,' Edyth snapped.

‘You told me to go back next door before I had a chance.'

‘Here's one for Toby and one for you.' Edyth picked up two from the tray and held them out to him.

Charlie took them from her. ‘What about the rest of the groom's bridal party and the ushers?'

‘The best man and one usher are here, but I suppose we can spare half-a-dozen for anyone who calls in at Toby's before going to the church. If you need any more you'll have to come back to get them. From me.' Mari took six roses from the tray and slipped them into an enamel bowl.

‘I'll take these into the hall so everyone can help themselves.' Edyth balanced both trays on one arm so she could open the interior door.

‘I'll take them for you, if you like,' Charlie stepped in.

‘No, thank you. I can manage,
Mr
Moore.'

‘Your wrapper's slipping, Miss Edyth.' Mari retied the bow on the overall Edyth was wearing over her frock. ‘You don't want to get your bridesmaid's finery dirty. You still here, Mr Moore?' The housekeeper pushed the bowl into his hands and closed the back door in his face. ‘You want to watch that one, Miss Edyth,' she warned.

‘Don't worry, I already am, Mari. And he's not my type.'

‘Heartbreaker,' Mari teased.

‘That's me.'

‘Someone will catch you one day,' Mari called after her.

‘I'm keeping myself for the Prince of Wales.'

Mari laughed. Unlike Bella, Edyth had never had a serious boyfriend. From babyhood she had been the tomboy in the family, always more interested in climbing trees, riding bikes and horses, and playing football than dolls and tea parties.

The porch and front doors were open, and Edyth saw that the saxophonist had been joined by the rest of the band in the gazebo on the lawn. They'd switched from ‘The Wedding March' to ‘You're Driving me Crazy'. A young, brown-skinned girl with a mature and hauntingly husky voice was belting out toe-tapping notes that drifted in through the windows, which were flung wide in hope of catching a non-existent breeze.

The whole country was basking in a heatwave. The broiling sun and cloudless sky, more appropriate to equatorial climes than Wales in July. Edyth set the trays on the hall stand and checked her reflection in the mirror. Bella was the acknowledged beauty in the family, having inherited their Spanish grandmother's black hair and beguiling dark eyes. But she wasn't too displeased with her own light brown hair and tawny eyes. Both held just enough of a hint of russet gold to lift her looks above the category of mousy.

Mindful of Mari's warning about her overall, she slipped it off and studied her gold satin, floor-length bridesmaid's gown. Fortunately there were no smudges or signs of creasing around the waist. But she was furious with Charlie Moore for daring to put his hands on her. Damned man – when she was angry she had no compunction about using the swear words she'd picked up from her male cousins – how dare he untie her overall and take liberties with her?

The frock, cut to the same pattern as Bella's wedding gown, clung to her figure, which she considered rounded in the right places; but was it too rounded? She stood sideways so she could see her profile. Were her hips too large and her bust too small?

A door slammed on the landing and her elder brother, Harry, left the bedroom that had been his before he'd married, and ran down the stairs, whistling an accompaniment to the band.