The Emerald Valley (40 page)

Most people in Hillsbridge visited the market at some time or another on a Saturday and so the following week Amy was not really surprised when she caught sight of Ollie Griffin sitting on one of the forms that surrounded the tea stall under the market clock, his hands clasped around a warming ‘cuppa'. She was surprised, however, when he got up, left his tea and made a beeline for her.

‘Morning, love.'

‘Oh, good morning, Mr Griffin,' she said, a little coolly.

‘Glad I saw you. Thought I'd tell you I've finished with Porter.'

‘Oh, have you?' she said vaguely, busying herself with rearranging the shopping in her bag so as to keep the beef she had just bought in the meat market from dripping blood onto the rest of her purchases.

‘That's right. Said I would, didn't I? I couldn't put up with him any longer. So if you've got a job going, don't forget me, will you?'

‘I won't, but as I told you, I really don't need any more men at the moment.'

‘Oh well, you never know what's round the next corner …'

Barbara was tugging impatiently at Amy's coat and she said, ‘I must go.'

As she went on with her shopping, it crossed her mind to wonder if he had come to the market specially to see her. Possible. He seemed very keen to work for her. But then no one could be very enthralled with the idea of being out of work, especially with Christmas just around the corner. Ralph Porter must indeed be a bad employer if a man chose to be unemployed rather than work for him, and again she felt a stab of satisfaction that she should be singled out as a better prospect. But she had nothing to offer Ollie Griffin at the moment and no likelihood of it either. Things were just ticking over nicely and she was delighted with the way the books had balanced this week. With luck she should be able to afford some little Christmas treats for the girls and Huw, without feeling too guilty about the extra expense. Not that she would be
extravagant
, of course, but as Llew had always said – what was Christmas if you couldn't do something a bit special … ?

Llew.
Amy's heart seemed to sink to a well somewhere deep inside her. This would be the first Christmas without Llew and she was dreading it. He had always made so much of the festivities, especially since they had had the children, bringing home bits and pieces to fill their stockings, springing small surprises and insisting, ‘It's Christmas – enjoy yourself!'

But this year, Amy would have abolished Christmas altogether if she could. When families were all gathered together under their own roofs she knew the gap he had left would be excruciatingly apparent, and dreaded having to try to fill it for the sake of the children. One good thing was having Huw – at least that would make it a bit different. But she would be without the prop of the business for a few days at any rate, with too many things to remind her of the past.

Well, worry about that when the time comes, Amy told herself. Just be grateful for the way things are turning out.

A few days later, however, something happened to upset the equilibrium and make Amy rethink her plans for the business, when she arrived at the yard to find Arty Dando hanging about with a doleful expression on his face.

‘What are you doing here, Arty?' she asked. ‘Shouldn't you be picking up a load of gravel with Herbie?'

Arty's face brightened at the prospect of being the one to impart the news. ‘Herbie's gone off to do the timber run this morning. Ivor Burge has been and gone and broke his leg.'

‘Oh, no! But when? How?' Amy asked in horror.

‘Last night, playing football. It snapped like a twig. Everybody in the field heard it,' Arty said with satisfaction. ‘He won't be able to drive for a couple of months. So Herbie thought he'd better do Mr Porter's run first.'

‘Oh, Lord!' The full implications of this development began to filter through to Amy and she felt herself going cold with horror.
Ivor
breaking his leg – it couldn't be worse. If it had been one of the mates, she could have managed, but a driver …

‘Whatever am I going to do?' she wondered aloud.

And then it came to her: Ollie Griffin. It must have been fate which had sent him to her. He had said he could drive, so she'd better get in touch with him – and quickly.

‘Do you know the Griffins?' she asked Arty. ‘They live at Purldown, I think. You'd better get up there, find out where their house is and ask Ollie to come and see me. Straight away!'

Arty moved reluctantly. He had foreseen a pleasant lazy day messing about at the yard.

‘How am I going to get there?'

‘You'll have to walk, I suppose,' Amy said tartly. ‘It won't hurt you; it's a nice dry day.'

Arty went and she was left to worry. Supposing Ollie Griffin had found other employment in the meantime? Well, it was useless to cross that bridge until she came to it. But she found it difficult to concentrate on anything for the good two hours it took before she saw Arty come back into the yard in the company of the broad, overalled figure of Ollie Griffin.

She sent up a silent prayer of thanks and set aside the pile of books on which she had been trying to work.

‘Mr Griffin, I'm glad you could come. I'm in a bit of a spot.'

‘Yes, Arty's been telling me.' Ollie Griffin was rubbing his hands together and beaming. It wasn't a very nice smile, she thought – but what had that got to do with it? The job demanded driving ability, not charm, and if Ollie was a good worker she could count herself lucky.

‘You never know when you're going to need a good man, do you?' he went on with a leer.

Amy ignored the implication. ‘You can drive, can't you?'

‘Too true I can. You won't find a better driver in Hillsbridge.'

‘And you could start right away?'

‘Today if you like.'

‘I should warn you that it's a temporary position only for the present,' Amy said. ‘Just until Ivor's fit again. He's a good boy and I must keep the job open for him. But there's always the possibility that if business builds up I shall be able to run another lorry and put on another permanent crew. So the better you work now, promoting Roberts Haulage, the greater the chance of my being able to keep you on.'

‘Fair enough,' Ollie agreed, adding, ‘Of course, the old boy must be getting on a bit too, mustn't he?'

‘Do you mean Herbie?' Amy asked, annoyed.

‘Yes. A young man like me could give you a far better day's work …'

‘Herbie is a valued employee and a friend,' Amy said stiffly. ‘Please don't talk about him like that again.'

Ollie pulled a face. ‘Oh, sorry!' But he didn't look it, as he stood grinning and rubbing his hands together.

Amy swallowed her dislike of him. ‘You could start right away, you say?'

‘Can do.'

‘Then perhaps you and Arty could go and shift a few loads of gravel. They must be wondering why we haven't turned up this morning – I'm surprised they haven't been down here chasing us up.' If it had been Ralph Porter's work which had been left,
he
would have been down riding his high horse by now, she thought. The quarry company people were more amenable – and further away. But she didn't want to risk upsetting them.

‘Arty can show you where to go and from then on, just let them tell you what they want you to do,' she instructed.

‘By the way, what about money?'

‘Oh yes – money. I'll pay you the same as I pay Ivor.'

‘I'm older and more experienced than him.'

‘You'll be doing the same work. And anyway I can't afford to pay you more,' Amy said flatly.

Ollie looked at her for a moment, then his thick lips curled into a grin and one eye winked at her slowly and deliberately.

‘I get it. I'm on probation. But if I can come up with the goods, it'll be a different story.'

‘Maybe. We shall have to wait and see.' Amy's tone was crisp and businesslike. ‘The lorry is over there and the sooner you get started, the better.'

When they had gone, trundling out of the yard, Amy sat in the office biting at the end of her pencil and thinking. Having a driver to call on in an emergency such as this had been a stroke of luck and it had taught her a lesson. She must never let herself be caught in such a position again. The mates must be taught to drive as soon as possible. In the meantime …

Perhaps the most sensible thing would be for Ollie to drive the lorry to Porter's timber yard tomorrow. After working for Ralph Porter, he must know the business inside and out and besides, as he had said, he was a good deal younger than Herbie when it came to dealing with an awkward commodity like timber. Herbie would probably object but she would have to be firm with him.

As she expected, when Herbie returned to the yard and she brought him up to date on developments, he was less than enthusiastic.

‘Ollie Griffin? Oh, I don't know about that. I've never had a lot of time for those Griffins. They'm a funny lot …'

‘Well, if he's no good he'll have to go,' Amy said. ‘But he seems a willing worker.'

‘Oh, they seem willing enough all right,' Herbie said enigmatically. ‘It don't seem a very good idea to me to send him up to the timber yard though. If he used to work there …'

‘Whyever not? He's the obvious one. Hauling timber will be second nature to him.'

‘Yes, but you don't know what sort of feeling there'd be between him and Ralph Porter, do you?'

‘Why should that make any difference?' Amy asked.

‘I dunno,' Herbie shrugged. ‘What's
he
got to say about it – Ollie Griffin?'

‘I haven't told him yet.'

‘Well, don't burn your boats until you have,' Herbie said darkly.

But when Ollie and Arty returned, Ollie was in high spirits.

‘How did it go?' Amy enquired.

‘Easy as pie!'

‘Good. But tomorrow I should like you to take over the timber run.'

At once a smirk curled Ollie's mouth. ‘To Ralph Porter's, you mean?'

‘Yes. Have you any objection?'

‘Objection my foot! I'll show the bugger …'

On the point of asking what he meant by that, Amy bit her tongue. Now that Ollie Griffin was working for her she had no desire to be drawn into any gossip about business associates.

‘I shall expect you to do it properly – not take the chance to settle old scores,' she said sternly.

‘Now would I do a thing like that? Not on your nellie …'

‘That's all right, then,' said Amy. ‘And I must say you've done well today. Carry on this way and you and I will get along famously.'

‘I second that!' Ollie said heartily.

Next morning both lorries had gone out by the time Amy got to the yard and, feeling pleased with the way things were progressing, she went on with her work. But towards lunch-time she heard the sound of a motor car being raced into the yard and looked up to see Ralph Porter's red Morgan screaming to a stop outside the office.

Amy glanced at the calendar. It was not the day for settling his account, so what was he doing here? And why, for heaven's sake, was she turning into a jelly at the sight of him? Today, as proof against the elements in open-car motoring, he was wearing a leather flying helmet; as he climbed out of the car, he loosened the chin-strap and strode purposefully towards the office.

Supposing he has come to repeat his invitation to take me out to dinner! Amy thought in sudden panic. What shall I say this time?

As he opened the office door she got up to meet him.

‘This is a surprise. I wasn't expecting …'

Her voice trailed away for his expression, cold and hard, was putting an end to social niceties.

‘Mrs Roberts – you sent a different driver to my yard this morning,' he began without preamble. ‘A man by the name of Ollie Griffin. I should be obliged if you would see to it that he's not sent again.'

‘Really … ?' He had knocked the wind right out of her sails.

‘I thought that after I had expressed to you my satisfaction with young Burge, I could expect him to continue with the contract.'

‘And he certainly would have done, except that he's at home with a broken leg,' Amy snapped. ‘I had to find a replacement driver at short notice and I happened to know Mr Griffin was looking for work. I consider I was lucky to get him.'

‘Hmm!' Ralph Porter's mouth twisted. ‘Well, that's a matter for conjecture, I assure you, Mrs Roberts. In fact, if you want my advice, you'll tell him where to get off and fast. That man's trouble!'

Amy lifted her chin. So that was it! There was ill-feeling between the two men and Ralph Porter, annoyed that Ollie had taken it upon himself to leave and worried no doubt about the stories he might spread concerning his former employer, intended using his influence to take his revenge … and possibly prevent Ollie from ever working again.

‘He's only been with me a day, it's true,' Amy said. ‘But from what I've seen of him, I'm perfectly satisfied …'

‘You'll regret it,' he stated.

Amy felt her hackles rising. ‘Ollie used to work for you, didn't he?' she asked.

‘He did. I must confess that I was taken in by his apparent dedication in the beginning, though I comfort myself that I was very busy at the time – and it didn't take me very long to see through him. But you're a woman …'

‘What has that got to do with it?' Amy asked, annoyed to think her sex was being dragged into this.

‘Everything, I'm afraid. Griffin rather fancies himself with women. Perhaps you haven't noticed yet, but you'll need to watch him.'

‘Watch him … ?' Amy was growing crosser and crosser by the second. ‘I really don't think I need a lecture from you on my employees. Just because he chose to leave you …'