Page 16 of Echoes on the Wind (Borrowed Time #2)

“I’m telling you, I know when my sister is lying. Something isn’t right.”

Gwyn’s voice was barely above a whisper as he climbed out of bed and began searching for his clothes. It was still dark outside, but he’d risen early for work, and I yawned from under the sheets as I fought to keep my eyes open.

Mair, when quizzed the previous evening about why she wanted to move to Bryncoed, told us that she wanted to be closer to Gwyn and find better work prospects for Zack. Neither reason was particularly out of the ordinary, but Gwyn wasn’t convinced, and he’d come to bed and immediately set about trying to work out what her actual motives were. He didn’t let it go until he fell asleep, and he brought it back up again as soon as he was awake.

“There’s no way she’d ever leave Cwm Newydd,” he said. “She just wouldn’t.”

“That’s the bit I’m surprised by,” I said, sitting up in an effort to stay awake. “I thought if she ever left, it would be kicking and screaming against her will. ”

“Exactly,” he replied. He came to sit on the edge of the bed holding a pair of socks but stopped short of putting them on while his mind raced. “And what about the cottage?”

“Well, she was right about that,” I said. “It would benefit you in the long run.”

When their parents died, the law prevented Mair from inheriting with her brother, so the cottage, along with its remaining fields and buildings from when it was a farm, were all owned by Gwyn. Believing that it should belong to both of them, he gave her full run of the place and charged her nothing for living there. This, she’d argued, was bad financially, and by taking on a tenant, they could earn from the cottage while keeping it in the family.

“Who would even live there? Where will we stay when we visit?”

“So are you annoyed that she’s moving or that someone else will be in your house?”

“Neither. Both,” he said, pulling on his shirt. “It’s not what she’s doing that concerns me, Tom. It’s why? The last time she visited here, she hated it. Now she wants to live here? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Cwm Newydd has about a hundred people in it, and two of them are blacksmiths. It’s no wonder they think there will be more work here for Zack.”

He shook his head, not buying into my reasoning, then leaned over to kiss me goodbye. “I’ll get it out of her,” he said. “I have to go. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Hang on,” I said, getting out of bed. “I’ll walk down with you. It doesn’t look like I’m going to get back to sleep now. ”

I threw on a pair of long johns and a shirt, and crept silently down the stairs behind him, then, with a final kiss, he headed to work while I went to the kitchen to make tea.

When I opened the door I jumped, not expecting to find Nellie sitting at the table by candlelight, and she hurriedly grabbed a teatowel, throwing it over something in front of her.

We stared at each other, breathing heavily from the surprise, and I contemplated going to change into something more appropriate. Before I could, she beckoned me in.

“Come in, quickly. Shut the door.”

I snuck inside and pushed it closed, careful not to make a noise, but unsure why we were being secretive. “What are you doing down here at this time?” I asked.

She paused, contemplating her answer, then pulled away the cloth. “Practising.”

I brought the back of my hand to my mouth and stepped back against the stove as she revealed the lump of flesh on the table. “What on Earth is that?”

“Pig belly,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “I got it from the butcher yesterday.”

She’d cut a slice down the middle of it and must have been halfway through stitching it back up when I’d disturbed her, because there was a thin line of thread working its way through the folds, down to a needle in her lap. “It looks disgusting.”

She smiled down at her work and shook her head. “It’s really not. And it’s the only way I can get better at it.”

“But why so secretive?” I asked. “You did a great job with my arm. Surely there’s patients at the infirmary who need stitching up all the time. Why sit here doing it in the dark?”

She dropped her gaze down to her lap and began to busy herself with the thread and needle, and I poured some lukewarm tea from the pot as I took a seat opposite her.

“Habit,” she replied. “Gethin doesn’t like me bringing work home, so I do it while he sleeps. That is, when he’s at home. And I can’t very well do it at the infirmary, because…” She paused like she’d said too much, and bit on her bottom lip.

“Because, what?”

She looked up again suddenly, then leaned across the table and brought her voice down as quiet as she could, talking at a rapid pace. “Oh Tom, I love my training, I do, but I spend most of my days emptying bedpans and taking linens to the laundry. If I’m lucky, I get to wrap a bandage or administer some medicine. It’s not enough. I wanted to become a nurse so that I could help people, but even the women who have been there for years just spend their time running around behind the men doing domestic duties.”

“But you are helping people,” I reasoned. “What about all the people at the mine you’ve helped?”

She dropped her gaze again, then propped her elbows onto the table and sank her head into her hands.

“Nellie, what aren’t you telling me?”

“Tom, I know I can trust you, but I really must beg that you say nothing about this to anyone.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“I’m not allowed to do any of it. The stitches, the treatments, none of it. Those jobs are reserved for the men. The doctors. If it weren’t for my medical books and stolen moments listening in on Dr Lamont, I’d be left fluffing pillows and learning nothing. It’s honest work that the nurses do, Tom, I know that, but I want more. I want to be in the thick of it.”

“So if you aren’t allowed to do any medical work, why are they always calling you to the mine?”

“Dr Lamont has allowed me, under the strictest secrecy, to accompany him, but only because it has proven mutually beneficial to us both. During one of my attempts to watch him working I overheard a conversation between him and Mr Awbrey. Dr Lamont has been undercutting the infirmary and taking private charge of patients from the mine, then pocketing the cash once he’s treated them. If he was a private doctor then nobody would say a thing, but because he’s employed, the money is supposed to go to the hospital for them to distribute as wages and such.”

“Oh, Nellie,” I said, rubbing my hand across my forehead. “What have you got caught up in? Awbrey is trouble. You know that, don’t you? Just look at what he did to me yesterday or at dinner last week. Lee told me he is up to his eyes in debt.”

“That’s probably why he’s paying Dr Lamont directly,” she replied. “Anyway, the next day, he caught me applying a splint without supervision. It’s the simplest task, and I didn’t need anyone watching over me, but he threatened to report me to the matron. I’m not proud of what I did next, but as he marched down the corridor to the matron’s station, I threatened to tell on him. It was the only thing I could think of to make him stop. I told him I’d heard every word and that I would keep his secret as long as he didn’t tell on me. ”

I leaned back in my chair and raised my hands to the top of my head, taking it all in. “You’re lucky he agreed. They’d almost certainly have believed him over you. And what of Awbrey? He hates me, and I live with you. He could get you in trouble.”

“He has no idea that I know. He’s seen me accompany Dr Lamont but thinks that I’m in the dark about their operation. It means I get to be more hands-on, while Dr Lamont gets unpaid assistance. And we’ve found that we actually get on rather well despite it all.”

“Unpaid? He’s not even cutting you in?”

“Yes, well,” she said, taking a sip from her cup. “We can’t have it all. I wouldn’t feel right taking it from the hospital, anyway. This is purely about learning. But Gethin mustn’t find out. He assumes that call-outs are a necessary part of my training. Thankfully, he doesn’t ask much about work. I don’t like keeping secrets from him, but it maintains the peace.”

“And what happens if someone finds out?”

Before she could answer, the door to the kitchen swung open, and Betty walked in, yawning and rubbing at her eyes. Without even looking at the table, she moved to the stove to put a pot on to boil, and Nellie wrapped her slab of pork up in paper and took it to the bin in the backyard, saying no more about her exploits.

The morning paper was delivered shortly before breakfast, and Mair made a beeline for it to look over the ads for rentals in the area. Betty gave her some ink to start circling the ones she may be interested in, but after working through nearly every one in the first column, she eventually tore the whole page out and shoved it into her apron.

“This is going to be a long day,” I said as I grabbed my cap from the hook in the hallway.

Mair shuffled awkwardly towards me, sticking a finger under her bonnet and scratching at her hair as she grimaced. “You’re telling me,” she replied.

To seem more presentable to prospective landlords, she’d had Betty braid her hair up into a tight bun. Betty, determined to win against Mairs hair, which had little desire to stay put, had used so many pins to keep it in place that the whole top of her head looked metallic.

“Let me have a look at that paper,” I said as we stepped out into the warm air.

I’d done little exploring in Bryncoed in the few months I’d been there, so there were lots of addresses on the list that I was unfamiliar with, but I wanted to work out a route that would get us around fastest.

Each ad came with two addresses; one for the landlord, and one for the listed property. We’d have to go to the landlords to get the keys, visit the properties, and then return them to the landlords once we were done. It was days like these that I really missed modern technology. With a phone and a car, we’d be able to look at all the properties in the same time it would take us to view one.

“This is going to be a right pain in the arse.”

“How would you do it where you come from?” she asked .

“Agencies,” I replied. “There’re shops in town that list houses. They show you pictures, and then show you around the ones you like the look of. It saves you walking around all day.”

“Well, if things don’t work out for you on the farm, maybe you could open one for yourself to stop you complaining. Until then, we’re doing it the real way.”

We continued down the hill until we reached the school, and the sound of children playing in the yard carried on the air. “There’s Gethin,” she said.

He was standing in a doorway with the word ‘BOYS’ carved above it, watching over proceedings with his cane. None of the children played within a five-metre radius of him.

He noticed us as we walked past, giving just the slightest nod in our direction, and we did the same back, before carrying on to the bend in the road near the back entrance of the mine.

“I thought he was in a meeting today?” Mair said, looking up at me as we walked.

“Well, Nellie did say it was an early meeting. Maybe he got back already?”

“From Cardiff? It’s not even ten, and Cardiff is at least an hour by train. Nobody has meetings that early, Tom. You know, sometimes I wonder if you’re genuinely oblivious to things, or if you just plead ignorance so that you don’t have to acknowledge them.”

“I like living in ignorance, thank you very much. When I get involved in other people’s problems, things go from bad to worse. I’m aiming for a trouble-free life. ”

She burst out laughing as we crossed onto the high street. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Right,” I said, changing the subject. “The first house is up this way.”

We took a left at the pub onto Crown Road, a long street with about twenty terraced houses on either side, a solitary gaslamp, and a communal water pump at the bottom. At the end of the street, running right across the road, was a brick wall that stood nearly as tall as the eaves, blocking all access to the land beyond.

“It’s number six,” I said, looking at the newspaper cutting again. “But it says to knock number eight for assistance.”

The whole road looked grim, dirty and unappealing. Two of the houses were boarded up entirely, and others had various windows missing, but all of them looked like they’d never been looked after.

I counted down the doors as we moved along the street, but hesitated as I got to number eight.

“They won’t answer if you don’t knock,” Mair said.

“Are you sure this is for you?”

“It won’t hurt to look at it,” she replied, then she reached out and knocked on the door herself.

When it opened, a dog ran out into the road, and an older woman in tattered clothes came screaming and swearing after it.

“What?” she snapped, raising her arms up to us.

“We’re here about the house next door?” I said, suddenly timid at her abrasiveness.

“Hang on,” she replied, then she disappeared inside and slammed the door. A moment later, the front window opened, and a hand pushed through the torn net curtain holding a key. “I want it back before you leave,” she shouted, then she slammed the window shut again.

“I don’t think you two would see eye to eye,” I said as we approached the empty house next door.

I unlocked the door and was immediately hit by a smell of mould and damp. “Jesus, how long has this place been empty?”

I was only brave enough to peer in from the pavement, but the black mould on every wall of the living room was all I needed to see.

“Nope, you’re not living here,” I said, pulling the door closed again.

“That smell,” she said, wafting the air. “It’s disgusting.”

“Don’t worry,” I said as I posted the key through the letterbox next door. “That’s just the first one. The others are bound to be better. The next house is only a couple of streets away, so why don’t we go look through the window before we ask for the key? It’ll save us some time if you’re not interested.”

Prince Road was only a little further up the high street, tucked between the newsagents and the bakery. It looked almost identical to Crown Road, except it was cleaner, and there was no wall at the bottom, so the street gave way to an overgrown field that stretched off into the distance.

“At least people seem to wash their nets around here,” Mair said, pointing at a particularly well-kept house. “Which one is it?”

“Fifteen,” I said, and we counted down the doors until we reached it.

Mair cupped her hands to the glass to try and get a look inside, and after a quick look around, I did the same, hoping that nobody would think we were casing the place.

“It looks as bad as the other one,” she said, letting out a disappointed sigh.

“It’s a little cleaner,” I replied, trying to stay positive.

“Number 2 is nicer.”

We both jumped back from the window and turned towards the unfamiliar voice that had startled us. An old lady stood on the doorstep of the next house, smiling and smoking a cigarette.

“You’re looking for somewhere to live, I take it?” she asked, and Mair nodded. “Horrible family lived there. Made a right mess of the place. Number 2 is better. Old Mrs Morris has gone to live with her son in Port Talbot, so it’s come free. She always kept a clean house, she did.”

I pulled the paper from my pocket and looked it over again, then returned my gaze to the woman. “It’s not listed. Has someone taken it already?”

“I shouldn’t think so,” she said, pointing across the street. “Mr Hughes was only telling me about it this morning.”

“Is that the owner?” Mair asked.

“He lives up on Church Street. Do you know it? Number 22.”

“I do,” I said, smiling. “I live there.”

She gave us a nod and went back inside, and I grabbed Mair’s hand and pulled her across the street to number 2. There were no nets on the window, so we could see inside easily, and it was immediately obvious that the house was in far better condition than the others. It even looked like it had been recently painted.

“This is the one,” Mair said, smiling. “I’ll take this one.”

“Hang on a minute, now,” I said, leaning against the windowsill. “What about the others? There's at least ten more in the paper.”

“This one is fine, Tom. I don’t need to see the others if I know that this one is alright. They’ll all look the same, anyway. Come on, we’ll go and tell him that I want it.”

“Why are you in such a rush?” I asked, not budging from my position. “Why do you want to move at all, for that matter?”

She narrowed her eyes at my question, then pointed up at me. “This has got Gwynfor written all over it. He’s too suspicious for his own good.”

“He’s worried about you. We both are. Has this got anything to do with what happened when I came back? When you were acting all cagey? You said you’d tell me what was going on.”

“You haven’t told Gwyn, have you?” she asked, sounding panicked.

“I haven’t told him anything. I don’t have anything to tell. I’m still waiting for you to tell me what’s been going on.”

“What happened to you not wanting to get involved in other people’s problems?”

“So there is a problem?” I asked, and she brought her hands to her face and sighed into them.

“Tom, if I tell you, you’ve got to swear to me that you’ll say nothing to Gwyn or Zack. If you can’t promise me that, and keep it, then I’ll say no more about it.”

“Mair, you’re really worrying me,” I said, and I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but she batted it away and stared me down.

“Promise me, Tom.”

“Ok, I promise,” I said, without any consideration of what she might say.

“Right, come on. We need to sit for this”

She took my arm, and we walked together in silence until we reached the main road. The tearoom was full, and she wasn’t keen on my suggestion to return home, so we settled for the small park at the top of town, near the infirmary. It was quieter there, with only a few people walking the tree-lined paths, and I led us to a bench in a secluded spot near the lake.

I leaned back, making myself comfortable, and brought my knee up onto the seat as I turned to her. Mair, meanwhile, sat stiff and upright, her eyes locked on the water as she gathered her thoughts.

“So what’s going on?” I asked, too concerned to wait patiently for her to speak up.

She let out a sigh and shook her head, but remained focused on the lake. “I wasn’t entirely honest about how things went after you disappeared,” she said, her tone more subdued than usual. “Things went quiet when they closed the investigation, but Graham wouldn’t let things rest. He knew Arthur didn’t kill himself, and he was determined to make someone pay.

“It was just little comments at first. He’d stop me in the post office or collar Gwynfor at the pub, threatening to see us hang. It was easy to ignore. We knew he didn’t have any proof, and he couldn’t tell the constables what he knew without implicating himself and Arthur in that poor girl’s murder.

“But the longer it went on, the worse it got, until he just wouldn’t leave us alone. He started following Gwyn around, day and night, and he’d turn up at the cottage at all hours.

“But it was you he was looking for.”

I sat upright, unsettled by her words, and took her hand in mine. “Mair, I’m so sorry.”

She smiled my words off with a shake of her head but pulled her hand away and started fussing nervously with her fingers.

“We couldn’t tell him where you were, obviously.” She looked back at me then, like she wanted to reassure me. “And we wouldn’t have. We’d never have told him.”

“I know,” I replied, nodding.

“He wouldn’t believe that we weren’t hiding you, and he wouldn’t let the matter drop. Then, one night just before Iris was born, Gwyn was coming home from the pub, and someone jumped out on him in the dark.”

I closed my eyes and dragged my hands down my cheeks, dreading hearing any more.

“Graham and another constable beat him so badly with their truncheons that he didn’t wake up for two days. I thought he was going to die, Tom. I thought we were going to lose him.”

Her voice faltered as she recalled the memory, and I held my hands over my mouth, letting out a long breath through my fingers. The guilt of it all was making me feel sick .

“Mair, I am so sorry. Gwyn never told me any of this.”

“I know,” she replied. “He swore he never would, and he made me promise not to either. He knew you’d only blame yourself and he didn’t want that.”

“But it’s my fault,” I argued.

She shook her head and turned to me on the bench, taking my hands in hers. “Tom, it’s not,” she said, her voice firm again. “All you did was show up. They are the ones who killed that girl, and it was Arthur who kidnapped and tortured you. Graham just wants to punish the rest of us because Arthur got himself killed. But you didn’t force them to do any of those things. We’re not going to pass blame around amongst ourselves for the awful things they did. I won’t have it.”

“But if Gwyn already knows all this, why did you swear me to secrecy?”

She let out a sigh and leaned back into the bench. “Because there’s more,” she admitted. “Graham must have realised that he went too far. We didn’t hear a peep out of him for months, so we thought it was finally done with. Then, around Christmas, he lost his job for drinking too much, and he turned up at the cottage demanding money, and threatening to hurt Zack and Iris if I said no.

“At first, it was just small amounts here and there, but then he started asking for more, and more often. I gave him all that I could and then started selling things to make more.”

“Your mum’s teapot,” I muttered, finally connecting the dots .

“And a lamp, a vase, a mirror, blankets… anything I could get something for.”

“Oh, Mair!”

“I couldn’t tell Gwyn. He’d have just come back, and things would have gotten worse, so I went to Aberystwyth and found a man willing to lend me a few pounds. It kept Graham quiet, but I missed a repayment to the lender so he added interest. Then Graham wanted more. It’s all such a mess. That day at the cottage… that was one of them, coming for more money.”

“So is that the real reason you want to move here?”

“Zack really does need more work, but as long as I’m in Cwm Newydd, Graham won’t stop. If I can put enough together to pay off the loan, I can come here and start over. Graham will drink himself to death eventually, and then I’ll be able to go back.”

She seemed relieved to have everything off her chest, but her eyes still carried the sadness of it all. “I just need it all to stop now, Tom.”

I reached out to hold her hand, but she pulled it from me and began rifling through her purse.

“This is yours,” she said, holding out a one-pound note and some coins. “It’s the change from the carriage. I won’t owe anyone else any more money.”

I clenched my hand around hers, closing her fingers over the money in her palm. “Mair, if you’ve had this the whole time, why didn’t you use it? If I’d known what was going on I could have given you more. I wish you’d have told me.”

“It wasn’t mine to give,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “And I won’t take it now. ”

“You will,” I replied sternly. “And you’ll take more, too. Let’s get the loan paid off first, or you’ll end up in court. Then, once you’re living here, Graham won’t be able to come after you for more. How much do you owe?”

“About six pounds,” she said, and my eyes widened.

It might not have sounded much, but it amounted to nearly three months’ wages for me, and I worked 60-hour weeks. Mair had no chance of paying it off, especially with Zack having no regular income and the interest piling up.

“I’ll give it to you,” I said without hesitation. “I have enough saved.”

“Tom, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask,” I replied. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”