Authors: Grace Thompson
Simon was an architect and he talked about the work he was engaged in. ‘Joy and I met in college,’ he said.
On being told that both Joy and Verity had been to art college to study design, Faith waved an arm around the cluttered room. ‘Do you fancy practising your skills by telling me what to do to improve this room?’ she said with a laugh.
Joy said, ‘I decided to teach, so Simon is the best to advise on design, although it looks a comfortable and friendly room and I can’t think how you could improve it.’ Faith smiled encouragingly at Simon.
‘Well – it is a very comfortable and welcoming room, but there’s an awful lot of furniture in here if you really want my opinion. All these big armchairs against the walls are not the best idea. It’s only an illusion but it makes a room appear larger if you can see into the corners. And colour, changing this crimson and using a lighter colour will also give the impression of more space, as will avoiding putting
heavy furniture like that couch in front of the window, blocking the light. But there, I expect you know all this.’
The door opened at that moment and there was a chorus of shouts as Jack, Bill and Polly burst in followed by Paul. ‘Sorry, Faith, we didn’t know you had visitors,’ he apologized. ‘Come on you three, we’ll call another day.’
‘Nonsense, Paul. Sit down and I’ll find drinks for you all.’ She heard the door open again and asked, ‘Is Winnie with you?’
‘No. We came out so Winnie can have a rest,’ Paul explained.
Kitty and Gareth walked in and were encouraged to stay. Ten minutes later, Mrs Gretorex arrived with her husband. Introductions were made and before Faith had supplied them with lemonade, a neighbour called with some Brussels sprouts from their garden.
The seats were full, the children found stools and Simon laughed. ‘I take back all I said about redesigning this room,’ he said. ‘Better if you talk to someone about building an extension!’
That was the first of many visits by Joy and Simon, and Faith knew they would get even closer as time passed. She heard from her mother by letter but there was no word from Verity. She had no idea that her younger sister had been to see Matt and would have been alarmed if she had.
Winnie’s condition continued to cause alarm and she spent several more days in hospital. Apart from the hours in the shop, much of Faith’s time was spent caring for the three children. Ian called often and she valued his support.
One evening Ian and Faith were about to eat a meal she had prepared when Paul arrived. It was clear from his expression that something was seriously wrong.
‘Faith, I hate landing this on you, but can you come and stay the night with the kids? Winnie is in hospital and she is quite ill. I want to be there.’
‘Where are the children now?’ she asked.
‘Outside, in the car.’
‘Bring them in,’ Ian said. ‘We’ll take them back later and Faith can put them to bed and stay. That way they’ll think it’s an evening out and not a panic.’
‘Thank you.’ Paul ushered the children in and, abandoning her meal, Faith found food for them and produced drawing paper and pencils to amuse them for the time before bed. Ian put aside his meal
too and they concentrated on entertaining and calming the three anxious children.
It was four days before Winnie came home, pale and subdued. Ian was away on one of his long trips so Faith was on her own. She slept at Paul and Winnie’s house and sent the children off to school before going to the shop. Mrs Palmer willingly allowed her to leave early to meet the children from school. Just as the shop was closing for lunch each day, Ian rang to ask for the latest news. It was a great comfort to know he shared her concerns. On Friday she was able to tell him that Winnie was home and she was no longer needed. She missed him and looked forward to his return the following afternoon.
As soon as the shop closed at four, she went straight to see Winnie and as Paul was seeing her out he hugged her and kissed her rather emotionally. She pulled away, embarrassed, and at that moment Paul looked up and said, ‘Hi, Ian. Back from your travels, I see. Your Faith has been marvellous.’
Ian stood with a hand on the gate not attempting to come inside. ‘Mrs Palmer told me where you’d be,’ he said and he avoided looking at her.
‘I just called to see Winnie, to reassure myself she’s all right.’
‘D’you want a lift back? I haven’t been home yet and Mum will wonder where I am.’
‘Thank you.’ She poked her head through the gap of the door and called ‘Goodbye,’ to Winnie and the children. Aware of the colour rising in her cheeks, she slid into the car and said. ‘Paul sometimes kisses my cheek and insists it’s from the children,’ she said. It sounded weak.
She chattered about her week but there was little response from Ian. Irritation began to rise. He had never so much as kissed her, at least not with any feeling, so how could he be upset about the peck from Paul? Only this time, she admitted, it had been more than a peck. His joy at having Winnie home had given the wrong impression altogether. She decided to ignore Ian’s subdued mood and chattered on as though she hadn’t noticed.
Olive found the darkness along the lonely lanes a trial as she returned to her caravan in the farmer’s field. She hid her fears when her sons visited, joking about bumping into the occasional tree and getting lost in the wrong field. She rarely met anyone after darkness had fallen,
and when she did the person always called out to reassure her, their country eyes coping better with the poor light than hers.
Both of her sons seemed settled and wrote to her regularly to tell her about their jobs. With growing confidence she put the fear of another call from the police out of her mind. It seemed that life was going to be all right. She was content living in the cosy caravan and was happy with the friends she had made in the cottages close by. Dealing with orders from her catalogue had also widened her group of friends and increased her feeling of belonging and being valued.
She wasn’t aware that her sons had guessed that she was less than happy walking through the dark hedge-lined lanes at night and that they were discussing how best to deal with it.
‘Pity is, I think she loves living there and, apart from the problem of walking in the intense darkness of night time in the country, she is happy.’
‘Then we have to think of a way to make things better.’
Faith received a letter from her mother telling her they would visit on the following Sunday and Faith was very excited. Joy and Simon had called several times and it seemed she really was being treated as a member of the family, although she still felt less than confident in their presence. Instead of squeezing them around the small table, she booked lunch at the Ship, the large hotel near the old harbour. She invited Ian and his mother, needing someone to support her, mainly because of Verity’s continuing doubts.
‘Why not put up the Christmas trimmings?’ Ian suggested. ‘I know it’s early but I don’t expect they’ll come again before Christmas and you can invite them back for tea before they leave.’
‘It’s only November. Besides, I don’t think I want to decorate this year,’ she said. ‘Remember what happened last time?’
‘A whole year has passed and even anger like Gwenllian’s has to fade after so long.’
‘I don’t feel able to, sorry.’
‘Flowers then?’
‘Flowers would be lovely.’
‘We’ll go to the market together and choose, shall we?’
Faith’s mother, with Verity and her husband Gregory, were being driven down by a friend and they expected to arrive at one o’clock,
but, persuaded by Verity, they set out earlier and went first to see Matt. Verity knocked on the door and her mother stayed in the car. Carol opened the door, then called her son. ‘Matt? Look who’s here! It’s Miss Green to see you.’
Matt snatched the door open and glared but his eyes softened immediately on seeing Verity. ‘Sorry, for a moment I though it would be …’
‘My sister?’ she offered.
‘Come in.’ He opened the door wide but she looked back to the gate.
‘My mother’s with me. She wanted to meet you as we’ve sold so much of your work.’
‘Will she come in too?’
‘Just as long as you don’t offer us sausages and baked beans.’ She saw the smile crease his face and beckoned to her mother to join them.
Introductions were made and Matt showed his visitors around his workshop. Verity’s mother particularly liked the small fragile flowers he had sculpted and painted that he took out of the kiln. ‘These are popular gifts for youngster to give their mothers,’ he said. ‘I charge less than I should when a child wants to buy a gift.’
Matt and Verity had been exchanging glances even when he was talking to her mother and when her mother prepared to leave, Verity said:
‘Perhaps I’ll stay a moment longer, Mother. I’m sure Matt will take me to Faith’s when I’ve discussed our latest orders.’
Doubtfully, her mother left with Gregory, and Verity walked back into the workshop. At once she turned to Matt and he walked towards her, his arms open wide. He held her close and she was soon lost in his kiss. ‘I’ve wanted to do that since the moment you first walked in,’ he whispered. Then they kissed again. This time it was Carol’s voice calling him that made them break apart. ‘When can I see you again,’ Matt whispered urgently.
‘It’s difficult. I live in London and it isn’t easy for me to come here,’ she said.
They walked back to the door of the house and Matt called, ‘I’m taking Verity to join her mother, back in a few minutes.’ With his hand holding hers, turning frequently to stare into her eyes, they walked the short distance to the van. He brushed the dust from the
seat ineffectually before she got in, then he drove her to the end of Railway Cottages.
‘You really know how to treat a girl,’ she said in her most haughty voice. ‘Chips and beans, twice! Now a ride in a filthy van.’
‘Not too proud to accept, though,’ he said, and there was something that was not quite a smile in his dark eyes.
She didn’t get out, hoping to persuade him to talk about the affair with her newly discovered sister. ‘I’m sorry about the trouble you had with Faith. She must be a very hard person to steal your child. It was yours, wasn’t it?’
‘She was my child, yes. I’ll never see her though, thanks to your
so-called
sister.’
‘You don’t believe she’s who she purports to be?’
‘Purports,’ he mused. ‘Now there’s a fine word. Sounds better than saying she’s lying I suppose.’
‘Why d’you think she did it?’
‘I was accused of attacking a girl when I was younger. The girl convinced me she was older than her true age, and she did all the running. Because of that unfortunate incident, Faith convinced herself I’m evil and not fit to be a father. I’ll never forgive her, never.’
‘I’m sorry if talking about it upsets you,’ Verity said touching his arm, making smoothing movements. Almost mechanically he told his story, then he reached out and kissed her again. ‘You’d better go, both our mothers will be looking for us. We can’t disobey our mothers, can we?’
She turned as she stepped out of the van, shouting in alarm as the distance to the ground was greater than she had expected. He leaned across, pulled the door closed and drove away.
He had none of the social graces, that was for sure, but somehow she didn’t consider them important. Matt Hewitt was certainly an intriguing man. A pity about the name, she couldn’t imagine being called Mrs Hewitt. Anyone with ambition needed someone who sounded important, someone with a stylish manner and a hyphenated name. She was Mrs Gregory Ormsby-Grantham, that was partly why she had married him.
Faith noticed Verity’s bright eyes and raised colour when she walked in, and wondered where the driver had taken her. Perhaps he was more than just their driver? The visit was a success, although Faith found Verity vague. She rarely joined in the conversation,
something
being startled out of a daydream when someone attracted her attention.
When she was told of the visit to Matt and the arrangement to buy some of his better pieces she became worried. Surely it wasn’t he who had given Verity that special glow?
‘It’s none of my business,’ she said to her mother, ‘but it isn’t wise for Verity to deal with Matt.’
‘Oh I don’t think there’s any worry there, I’ve met him and he’s definitely not her type. Sophistication and lots of money is more Verity’s idea of the ideal man and she’s found that in Gregory. They’ve only been married a few weeks.’
‘Well, wherever she’s been, someone made her eyes sparkle, and whatever else he is, Matt Hewitt is a very attractive man.’
‘I don’t think you should see that man again,’ Verity’s mother warned when they were in the showroom the following day.
‘You don’t mean that driver?’ Verity looked amused.
‘You know who I mean. Matt seems charming enough but remember what Faith told us about him. Don’t get mixed up with someone who could be dangerous, Verity. A mistake with a man like that is certain to end in real trouble.’
‘He told me his version of what happened, and it was far removed from hers.’
‘Of course. It’s bound to be different. It’s natural to put ourselves in the best possible light.’
‘Did you know Faith has earned the nickname of the Runaway?’
‘That’s an odd name.’
‘When things get difficult she moves away, runs away from
everything
and starts again a long way off. She forgets friends and responsibilities and moves on. What more of a problem is there than a child and no husband?’
‘They had planned to marry, and would have if he hadn’t had an accident.’
‘He
offered
to marry her, to give the child a name. She couldn’t cope so she lived up to her nickname and ran away.’
‘What makes you think his story is the true one? Beware of an intriguing man with charm and looks. Your flirting days are over, Verity, your loyalty is to your husband. Having a bit of fun can lead to trouble you won’t enjoy.’
Charm? Scruffy café and a ride in a filthy van without help getting out? Hardly a gentleman. But her mother was right about the looks. Since they returned she had spent more time than she should thinking of ways to arrange another visit.