Page 18 of Echoes on the Wind (Borrowed Time #2)

“Can’t sleep?”

I’d been sitting at the kitchen table for most of the night, spinning the penny around and rolling it between my fingers while I played the fortune teller’s words over and over in my mind. I wanted to believe it was just an act, but her words were too precise to ignore, and quite honestly, they terrified me. Was my return a terrible mistake? And what about that pendant?

I pressed the penny flat on the table and looked up as Mair crept in and gently closed the door. The single candle I’d lit had nearly burned out, so I could barely make her out as she started loading wood into the stove, getting it lit for the day.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” I said, pulling my foot up onto the seat to hug my knee. “What if that woman was right? What if my being here is going to bring trouble for everyone?”

She closed the door on the stove, then leaned against it with her arms crossed, staring at me. “And what, Tom? Will you go back? Is that what you want? You’re sitting in the dark fretting over the words of a woman who claims ghosts talk to her. Is that how you’ll decide your future?”

“But some of the things she said…”

She brushed her hair down over her shoulder and grabbed Betty’s shawl off the chair, wrapping it around her shoulders as she took a seat opposite me. “‘ You come from far away and bad things will happen to people you know, ’” she mocked. “It’s not very convincing, is it? She could say that to just about anyone.”

“You know it wasn’t that vague,” I argued.

I tapped the penny on the table again, and she snatched it from my fingers and threw it onto the counter, out of my reach.

“Tom, you’re in no more control of what happens to us than the rest of us are. Three days ago you walked out in front of a wagon. Was that someone else’s fault? What if I fall down the stairs tomorrow? Or Gethin gets trampled by a stampede of schoolchildren? Or Gwyn finally writes me a letter and breaks his leg on the way to the post office? How could you possibly be to blame for any of it? Do you think that if you hadn't come back here nothing bad would ever happen to us? No! It’s absurd to think your presence here has that sort of control. I hate to break it to you, Tom, but you’re just not that special.”

I grinned as she smiled at me and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You know, you’ve got a real knack for keeping my ego in check.”

“Well, I’ll tell you something,” she said, tapping her finger on the table. “If I do end up dead because of something you’ve done, you better go and find that woman again, because you can be sure I’ll have a strongly worded message for her to pass on to you.”

She had a way of making me laugh that took the edge off my tension, and after hours of sitting in the dark, stewing over everything, I was grateful for it.

“What time is it, anyway?” I asked, yawning. “Why are you up?”

“Nearly five. I’m so used to being awake at all hours with Iris I think it’s just a habit now.”

“I didn’t realise it was so late,” I said, leaning back and letting out a long stretch. “I should probably go and try to sleep.”

“Aren’t you meant to be on one of the floats this morning with the torchbearers?”

“I’m not doing it. I’m not in the mood.”

“You can stop that,” she said, waving a spoon at me. “You ran off last night pretending to have a headache, and now you want to sulk your way out of the parade. No. It’s my last day. You’re not spoiling it by being a misery. I’ll wake you at eight to get ready.”

I knew I wouldn’t win if I stayed to argue, so I kissed her on the cheek and made my way to bed.

As luck would have it, the torchbearers’ float that Gethin had organised only had room for six, so I was happy to volunteer to stay on the sidelines and watch with everyone else.

Our group, minus Gwyn, who was on the miners’ float, had gathered in a spot near the remains of the bonfire to await the parade. The smell of the smouldering ashes carried on the breeze, offset by the aromas coming from the food tents around the field, reminding me of the bonfire night displays we went to as children. This was no cold November night, though, and the glorious, warm sunshine was providing a perfect backdrop for the procession.

Hundreds of people lined the street and crowded the green, cheering and waving flags. Their celebrations grew as the brass band came into view, beating a rhythm along the road, but when Doris Collins, the May Queen, appeared a few seconds later, held aloft on a chair by four burly men, the thunderous cheers must have been heard two valley’s over.

The floats came next, dragged along by ponies costumed to match each theme. First came the torchbearers, draped with red and orange material to mimic flames blowing in the wind. Behind them, the farmers sat upon hay bales surrounded by huge sacks of vegetables. The queen's attendants came next, pulled in a lavish carriage as grand as any I’d ever seen, and they waved to the crowd like royalty in their flowing white dresses and flower garlands.

And then came the miners, whose float was an actual rail cart. It wobbled unsteadily along the road off its tracks but proved an impressive sight nonetheless. Of the twelve floats in the procession, it was the one I was most excited for, and I hollered and waved as Gwyn and his workmates, kitted in their work gear, waved pickaxes in the air.

“That looks like a disaster waiting to happen,” Mair joked, and I cast her a worried look as she burst out laughing. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean because of you.”

When the floats came to a stop, the May Queen led the procession across the green, but Gwyn broke ranks and came to find us .

“Maybe we could skip this bit and go and find food,” he said. “I’m starving now.”

“You can’t do that,” Tish replied, horrified by the idea. “This is the best part.”

Doris, dressed all in white with a floral crown, approached the Maypole to the sound of trumpets and read aloud from a scroll in Welsh. When she finished, the band started up again, and she and her attendants began to dance, taking the ribbons that were hanging from the pole and weaving amongst each other, slowly decorating it.

“Doesn’t it make you want to join in?” Nellie grinned as she clapped along.

“I did my dues at your wedding,” I said, remembering how Betty had gotten me up in front of everyone. “That was enough for one lifetime, I think.”

The celebrations stretched late into the evening, and we’d gathered around a lamp on the grass, surrounded by empty bottles, chatting and laughing the night away. As the beer flowed, Gwyn became more tactile, lightly stroking my arm or putting his hand on my back. As much as I loved his affections, I had to keep moving away from him so that people wouldn’t notice or raise unwanted questions.

The only sober ones left in the group were Lee, who didn’t drink anymore, and Betty, who, despite assurance from Nellie that she could join the festivities, cradled cups of juice all day.

“Are you sure you won’t have one?” Tish asked as she got unsteadily to her feet to get more drinks .

Betty offered her a polite smile but shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“Anyone would think you were pregnant,” Lee blurted out with a laugh.

His smile faded as an awkward silence fell over the group, and all eyes turned to Betty, who looked mortified.

“Oh gosh, could you imagine?” Nellie giggled, and Betty buried her face in her hands, letting her cup fall to the ground.

“Elizabeth?” Nellie said sternly. She got up onto her knees and gripped her sister by the shoulders. “Please tell me you're laughing under your hands, and this is just to tease me.”

“I’ll help you with those drinks,” Lee said awkwardly, getting up to join Tish.

As they sped off, Betty dropped her hands to her lap but remained hidden behind her long blonde hair falling over her face. The noise of the festivities seemed to fade in the background as we awaited the response that we’d all worked out was about to come, and when she finally looked up, her eyes had reddened, and she started to sob.

“Oh you silly girl,” Nellie said, and she scooped her sister into her arms, cradling Betty’s head into her chest.

Gethin glared at them furiously and kept opening his mouth to speak, but before he could find the words, he got up and stormed off, red with anger. Nellie paid him no mind and continued to cradle Betty, but her stare was trained angrily on Joseph.

“Why don’t we take a walk,” Gwyn said, tapping Joseph on the shoulder .

“Don’t you dare,” Nellie snapped, pulling away from Betty towards Joseph. “Did you know about this?”

“It’s not his fault,” Betty cried out.

Nellie looked horrified and grabbed her sister’s shoulders once more. “It’s someone else’s?”

“Of course not,” Betty cried. “I just mean, don’t blame him.”

“Oh, I know how these things work, Elizabeth,” Nellie said. “I blame both of you. How could you be so careless?”

“Is this about the colour of my skin, Mrs Evans?” Joseph asked, and Nellie looked mortified at the suggestion.

“I don’t care about that, you foolish boy. I care about her being unmarried. I care about her health being poor. I care about her having no home. I care about what will happen when my parents find out. Have either of you thought about any of those things?”

Betty wailed again and reached out for Nellie’s arm. “You can’t tell Mama.”

“I’m not going to,” she said, before downing the remainder of her cup. “You will! You can’t keep this from them, Betty, and I’m not being held responsible for your lies. I’m already going to get it for not keeping you out of trouble in the first place. You must write home at once.”

“I’m so sorry,” Betty said pitifully, leaning her head onto Nellie’s shoulder.

“We both are,” Joseph added. “We didn’t want it to be like this.”

Nellie closed her eyes and took a deep breath before speaking again, her voice softer than it had been during the heat of the row. “I suppose we’re going to have to work something out. You can’t be much more than about ten weeks in, so we still have time to fix things.”

“Fix things?” Joseph asked, his face filled with concern.

“You’re going to have to marry my sister,” Nellie said matter-of-factly. “My family can overcome many things, Mr Bérenger, but an unwed mother isn’t one of them. You need to soften this blow, and that’s the only way you’ll do it.”

“I will,” he said, and Betty raised her head back up, smiling through her tears. “I love your sister, Mrs Evans. Very much. I’ll do right by her, I promise.”

“Come on,” Gwyn said, pulling at my arm and lifting me to my feet. “Let’s leave them to it and go find your brother. Mair, are you coming?”

The three of us staggered towards the tent, all a little worse for wear, and Mair linked her arms to the both of us to keep herself steady.

“Well I didn’t see that coming,” she said.

“Poor kid,” Gwyn added, but I wasn’t sure if he meant Joseph, Betty, or their unborn child.

When we reached the beer tent, I spotted my brother and Tish inside, and Tish held up two glasses to us. Mair rushed in, and I grabbed Gwyn by the arm. “I need to pee,” I whispered. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He gave me a nod, and I slipped around to the back out of view of everyone else. It wasn’t easy to see my way in the dark, and I nearly fell over some empty barrels, but just as I found a secluded spot and reached for my buttons, I heard a woman giggling from behind the next tent .

“I’ve wanted you all night,” a man whispered, and the woman giggled once more.

I froze, unsure what to do. The last thing I wanted was for them to think I was spying, so when she giggled again, I let out a loud cough to make them aware of my presence.

“Go,” the man whispered, followed by a panicked shuffling.

I was cast in darkness between the tent and the steep hill up to the houses, so when Mabel Boyes, last year’s May Queen, stepped into the light and dashed between the tents, I was grateful not to have been noticed.

A few seconds later, however, when her suitor stepped out, adjusting himself and straightening out his hair, the last person I’d expected to see was Gethin.

My heart was thudding as I stood there frozen in the shadows, but he only dashed off when a commotion started inside the tent, giving him a diversion.

As I rushed around to the entrance, I could see two large men squaring up to Lee and Gwyn, and Will Angove towering between them all with his arms up, separating them.

“It was obviously an accident, chaps,” Will said, and I spotted Gwyn’s empty glass on the floor between them, and the wet patch down one of the men’s legs.

“Someone pushed me,” Gwyn said. “I’m sorry. It really was an accident.”

Gwyn’s problem when he’d had a drink, was that no matter what was going on, he couldn’t stop grinning, so his apology wasn’t going over in the way he’d hoped .

“Think it’s funny, do you?” one of the men shouted, and he lurched forward, arm raised.

He and his friend lunged for Gwyn and Lee, and I jumped in, along with two other men, to try and keep them all apart. I could hear Mair and Tish shouting in the background, but the scene had devolved into chaos, and I could see little more than a mass of limbs striking out.

“That’s enough,” Will shouted, his voice booming around the tent, and we came to a stop on the floor in a heap.

One of the men who’d jumped in held a hand out to pull me up. As I took it, I realised it was Gerwyn from the farm, and gave him an uneasy nod of thanks as I brushed myself down.

The beer seller wasted no time in leading the troublemakers outside, and as the crowd began to chatter again, Mair and Tish rushed to check on the boys. I was about to join them when Gerwyn tapped me on the shoulder and led me off to the side.

“Tom, about the other day,” he said, taking off his cap as he spoke. “I shouldn’t have shouted like that. It was a busy day and I was tired. Sorry.”

“It’s ok,” I replied, glad not to have made an enemy of him. “I really didn’t leave my bike lying around, but I guess it’s my fault for not making sure it stayed where I put it.”

As if on cue, I spotted Ellis loitering in the corner of the tent, grinning at the commotion. I let out a huff, and Gerwyn followed my gaze, grimacing.

“He’s an odd one,” he said. “But I suppose that’s why you have a job. Joel, the guy before you, couldn’t stand working with him anymore, so he quit. Didn’t even collect his last wage.”

I tried not to stare while we talked about him, but I could feel his gaze on us, and I dropped my voice to a whisper. “This might sound crazy, but I think he put my bike in the field. He wanted me to go drinking, but I already had plans. The next thing I know, my bike’s wrecked.”

Gerwyn took a sip of his beer, then leaned in close as he shook his head at me. “It wouldn’t shock me. There’s something really off about him. That’s why nobody at work bothers with him” He downed the last of his drink and set the cup down on the makeshift bar. “Look, I’ve got to go, but come and see me on Monday when you get a break, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

He patted me on the shoulder and headed outside, leaving me to check on Lee and Gwyn.

“Can’t leave you alone for five minutes,” I said, but they both seemed to find it amusing.

“Men!” Tish said, tucking her arm into mine.

She smiled up at me with a knowing look, making me wonder how much about my private life Lee might have told her. If she knew, it obviously wasn’t a problem, because she pulled me closer and rested her head against my arm.

“I need my bed,” Gwyn said, his speech slurring through his grin. “It’s been a long day.”

He stumbled over and threw his arm over my shoulder. I made a show of trying to keep him upright so nobody would think anything untoward, but he wasn’t anywhere near drunk enough to need support, and anyone paying attention would have realised that .

“Mair, are you coming?”

She held up her fresh glass and shook her head. “No, I’m going to stay with Tish. I’ll walk up later with Nellie.”

“Do you want any help up the hill?” Lee asked.

“No, I’ll be fine,” I replied. “Just let the others know we’ve gone home.”

He wrapped his arms around both of our shoulders and gave each of us a kiss on the head, then slapped me on the back as I led Gwyn outside.

“Night, Tom,” Ellis said as we walked past.

I gave him a nod but said nothing as I continued on, guiding Gwyn down to the road.

“We should run up the bank,” he said, pointing up to the house.

“No chance,” I replied, laughing. “We’ll either roll back down, or break our necks trying to get over the fence. The path will do fine.”

The nighttime air had cooled, but it was still warm enough to make it a pleasant walk home. Most of the streetlamps had already gone out, or hadn’t been lit at all because of the festival, and the added darkness made the clear, starry sky seem even more vivid and bright.

“I’ve had a lovely day,” he said as we rounded the corner at the school. “It’s been great having everyone together. We should do it more often.”

“A festival is a lot of effort for a get-together,” I joked, and he jabbed me in the arm, laughing.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.”

The climb up the hill was proving difficult, and I could feel my pace slowing. “This is easier when I’m sober,” I huffed .

“We could always stop for a bit,” he replied, and though I could barely make out his face in the darkness, I knew exactly the kind of look he was giving me.

“Behave,” I laughed. “That can wait until we get home.”

“Well, the house is actually empty for once.”

I caught the glint of his smile in the moonlight, and he traced a finger down my chest.

“I love you, Tom,” he whispered.

“I lo–”

My words caught in my mouth as I heard an almighty thump, followed by something heavy hitting the pavement and footsteps running away into the darkness.

It felt like I’d fallen into slow motion. Before I could even register what was happening, Gwyn’s hand fell away, and he slumped forward onto the ground, blood gushing from his head.

“Gwyn?” I shouted, falling to my knees in a blind panic. “Gwyn!”

I was trembling in shock, tears running down my face as I pulled his head into my lap. Soaked in blood, I cradled him and screamed into the darkness.

“Somebody help!”