Page 23 of Echoes on the Wind (Borrowed Time #2)

Bryncoed General Infirmary was a foreboding place. Nestled amongst the trees at the far end of the park, it looked more like a gothic mansion than a hospital, with towers and turrets, and dark brickwork that gave it a haunting feel.

It had been opened, according to a plaque at the entrance, by Princess Helen of Waldeck and Pyrmont, wife of Queen Victoria’s youngest son, in the spring of 1883. Her portrait greeted everyone who entered through its tall wooden doorway, but it was the only thing in the whole building that gave it any sort of welcoming feel.

The walls were dark, the rooms were gloomy, everything felt like it needed a good wash, and the bedside manner of most of the nurses left a lot to be desired.

Despite my limited injuries, I’d been kept to convalesce for two weeks. I’d hoped to make it out in under one, but I had a cough that wouldn’t leave, so the matron insisted that I was to stay. I’d protested, as I generally do when someone tells me no, and was swiftly informed that if the infirmary wasn’t to my liking, I could be transferred to Glamorgan County Lunatic Asylum for the rest of my recovery instead. Remarkably, my protests soon came to a stop.

Every day, come rain or shine, the matron insisted that I take two hours of air, and despite being able to walk, I was wheeled out into the gardens and left there. For the first few days I‘d see Nellie during this time, when she was brought out from the women’s wing. Her hands were bandaged, but she was otherwise fine, so she was discharged after three days, and Gwyn came to collect her because Gethin was busy. He hadn’t even visited.

A few days after Nellie’s discharge, she returned to work. Though her duties were limited, she often found her way to the men’s wing to keep an eye on me and Will. His injuries had been rather worse than any of us had initially suspected, so he was confined to bed, and it was expected that he’d be there for several months.

The burns to his back had become infected, and he was forced to lie on his stomach for the duration of his recovery. There was concern amongst the nurses that the infection would be the end of him, and they seemed resigned to that fact when they began to limit their treatments. Once Nellie resumed her duties, however, she began to smuggle in ointments and medicines from her own stores, and would treat him personally when nobody was watching.

She continued treating him in secret until he was out of the woods again. The nurses considered his healing a miracle, and the doctors, on the occasions that they would actually come by, congratulated themselves on their successful work .

On my last day, Nellie came onto the ward accompanied by Gwyn, and I wanted nothing more than to throw my arms around him. Visits to the hospital were strictly limited due to the range of infections and diseases that the other patients were carrying, so I’d seen him only twice in two weeks, and we’d been unable to show affection either time.

“I brought you some clothes,” he said as he put a bag down on the edge of my bed. “Everyone’s at the house waiting to see you.”

“You’re a saint,” I said, excitedly looking through my things.

I’d been dressed in a gown for my entire stay, that they’d only changed me out of three times in two weeks. It stank, and so did I.

“I won’t be long behind you,” Nellie said, adjusting her cap and cloak. “I’m going to give Will his bath and then I’ll be finished.”

“How is he doing?” Gwyn asked.

“Much better,” she said, and a relieved smile covered her face. “His wounds are healing well, now. There will be a lot of scarring on his back, but the burn on his arm should fade, and his hair is already growing through again. It could have been much worse. He’s been very lucky.”

“He’s been lucky to have you ,” I said, and she began to blush. “You’ve been amazing.”

“I do what I can,” she replied. “He’s a good man. I owe him my life.”

“What of Mrs Harris?” I asked. “How is she doing?”

I knew that she was still on the women’s wing, but I’d seen little of her. Mrs Bowen had been brought in, too, but she stayed only as long as it took for her husband to arrive. Once he did, and having the money to afford it, she was taken by carriage for private treatment elsewhere.

“I’m not sure Mrs Harris will ever walk again,” Nellie said. “I’ve tried to beat the infection in her leg, but it’s not reacting as well as Will’s. Dr Franklin thinks it will need to be removed. He’s consulting with a surgeon from the Royal Infirmary in Cardiff.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” I said, feeling guilty that I hadn’t been able to do more to put the fire in her skirts out.

“If it wasn’t for you, she wouldn’t have made it out of the building alive,” Nellie said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “We’ll all do everything we can.”

“If you’re not going to be long, we might as well wait for you to finish,” Gwyn said. “Once Tom has changed, we’ll wait in the gardens for you.”

She gave us a nod and went to tend to Will, and Gwyn pulled the curtain out along the bed, giving us a small bit of privacy while I changed.

“That’s not so bad,” he said. He traced a finger along the scar on my stomach, but he looked sad as he looked at it.

“I’ve stopped noticing it.”

The truth was that I just avoided looking at it. It wasn’t very big, or particularly unsightly, and once the hair on my stomach grew back, it probably wouldn’t be visible. But it was a reminder that someone had deliberately tried to hurt us, and I was struggling to be comfortable with that .

“I was worried you’d think it looked horrible,” I admitted, and he leaned down and kissed my stomach before standing up and kissing my lips.

“Never,” he said, before moving away with a grimace. “But no more kissing until you get a wash. You stink.”

He ducked away, laughing as I whipped at him with my shirt. The nurses talked a lot about the importance of cleanliness and sanitation, but we were only given time for one bath a week, and that was as a group. On the days in between, we were lucky to get a bowl of water and a rag unless Nellie was on shift. She was a stickler for hygiene.

“The constable is coming to see you tonight,” Gwyn said as I continued to get changed.

“I don’t know what else to tell him,” I said, shrugging. “He’s already been to see me once.”

“Well, whoever did it is facing a murder charge,” he replied, sitting himself down on the corner of the bed. “They probably have more questions.”

“Honestly,” I said, dropping my voice down to a whisper. “I think it could be something to do with Awbrey.”

“Why?”

I moved the bag and sat in its space on the bed next to Gwyn. “Because the mine is in trouble. Lee told me. He’s selling houses and putting off doing the work on the spoil tips to try and claw in some cash. It’s the miner’s hall, so he probably owns that, too. Now, he gets to claim the insurance. I don’t trust him one bit.”

“I dunno. That’s a big leap. Maybe you want to discuss it with Lee first. ”

“I will,” I replied, grabbing the bag. “Come on. We’ll wait for Nellie outside in the gardens.”

The carriage ride home was fairly uneventful, but I managed to catch a glance at the Miners’ Hall as we made our way through town. They’d wasted no time on the clean-up, and the whole plot stood empty, as though nothing had ever been there. According to Gwyn, money was already being raised for its replacement, and he told me all about it until we pulled up outside the house.

“If you get tired or overwhelmed, just say so, and I’ll tell everyone to go home.”

I looked up at the door from the gate, feeling oddly apprehensive about going in and seeing everyone, but turned to Gwyn and Nellie and smiled at them. “I’ll be fine. It‘ll be great to see everyone. I just wish I had time to have a bath and freshen up.”

“Nobody will care,” he said, putting a reassuring hand on my back. “They all just want to see you and make sure that you’re well.”

“They did the same for me,” Nellie added. “I came home to a houseful. It’s good that so many people care.”

“It is,” I said, smiling.

“Come on then,” Gwyn said, heading for the door with my bag. “I’m sure there’s some bottles of beer waiting in there.”

I followed him and Nellie up the path to the door, but stopped at the step when I heard someone whispering my name.

“Tom. ”

I heard it again and stepped down the path, looking up and down the street trying to work out where it was coming from.

“Over here.”

A few doors down, where a small alley split the houses and ran around to the back lane, I spotted an arm waving out to me. As I took a few steps towards it, Ellis snuck out a few inches and leaned on the railings on the garden wall.

“No, wait,” he called out as I turned to walk away, and against my better judgement I stopped and turned back to him. “I won’t keep you.”

“What are you doing here, Ellis?” I asked, keeping my voice low and checking behind me towards the house. “If Gwyn sees you, he won’t hold back a second time.”

“I just wanted to come and make sure that you were alright.”

“How did you even know I was coming home today?”

“You must have been terrified,” he said, and he took a few more steps towards me, making me edge back. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Why do you even care?” I snapped. “This is getting ridiculous. Don’t come here again.”

“Of course I care, Tom. You’re my best friend. I’ve been worried sick.”

“I’m not your best friend,” I shouted. “Now go. Before Gwyn comes out.”

“I don’t care about Gwyn,” he said, straightening up and puffing out his chest. “He’s the problem here.”

“Goodbye, Ellis,” I said, turning back towards the house .

When I reached the gate, Gwyn came to the door looking puzzled about my absence. I glanced back towards the alley, not wanting any trouble, but Ellis was already gone.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, of course,” I replied, smiling widely at him. “Mrs Treharne came out to ask how I was.”

He stared down towards our neighbours’ house, finding the yard empty, but shrugged it off and smiled at me. “That’s nice of her. Come on, everyone’s waiting.”

“Here he is,” Lee called out as I walked into the living room, and he pushed through everyone to get to me first, throwing his arms around my neck and kissing the side of my head. “Jesus, you stink,” he said, pulling away again. “I’ve missed you, though. It’s good to have you home.”

“Thanks,” I said, raising an eyebrow at his dig. “It’s good to be back.”

“We brought you a pie,” Tish said, leaning in apprehensively to hug me. “Walnut and plum. And,” she added, giggling and looking rather proud of herself, “I made it myself. Cook helped, but she only instructed me. I did all the work.”

“That’s really kind,” I said, smiling. “Thank you, Tish.”

“I’ve put it in the kitchen with everything else,” Betty said. “Nellie has told me about how bad the food is in the infirmary, so I’ve made enough to make up for the whole time you were there. ”

“And she’s had me going back and forth to the store for it all day,” Joseph added as he held his hand out to shake mine.

“No Gethin?” I asked, and Nellie shrugged, turning to her sister.

Betty looked immediately uncomfortable and dropped her voice low. “He said he had to go to a meeting with the council and then on to Cardiff, so not to expect him home.”

“Oh,” Nellie said, caught off guard. “Alright then. I suppose that means there’s more to go around.”

It was rare for Nellie to show that she was annoyed, but she had a tell that I’d learned over time. She’d suck in her lips until you could barely see them, nod very slowly as though she was digesting the information given to her, then break out in a huge smile to let everyone know that she was absolutely, definitely, unquestionably, not annoyed.

She made sure that everyone could see that smile as she rushed off to the kitchen.

“I’ll come and help,” Tish said, following her out alongside Betty.

I took a seat in the armchair nearest the window, periodically glancing outside for a sign of Ellis, while Gwyn took some bottles from the dining room and handed them out between the four of us who were left.

“Will you be looking for work now that you’re home, Tom?” Joseph asked. “Lee said you’ve finished at the farm. There’s always work with us at the mine.”

“No!” Lee and Gwyn said in unison, and both Joseph and I stared between them.

“I don’t think I’m really cut out for the mine,” I admitted. “There’s bound to be more farmwork around. Unless you know of any presses nearby?” I asked, turning towards my brother. “I can do all that with my eyes closed.”

Lee leaned forward in his seat and took a swig from his bottle. “There’s loads, actually,” he replied. “At least six in Cardiff, and more throughout the valleys. I don’t think they really follow the same processes as what we’re used to, though.”

“Presses?” Joseph asked, looking between us.

“Publishing,” I responded. “Lee and I used to own a publishing business when we lived in Cambridge.”

“That’s quite different to what you do now,” he replied.

Just then, a knock came at the door, and I leaned back in my chair to see the constables through the window, standing on the doorstep.

“They didn’t waste any time,” I said, getting up to answer it.

Betty beat me to the door and invited the men inside, and I led them into the living room.

“Can I offer you any tea?” Nellie asked as she and the other women followed in behind them.

“No, thank you, Mrs Evans. This shouldn’t take long.”

Inspector Owen Phillips had first come to see me at the infirmary, and he seemed a pleasant, if somewhat stern gentleman. He looked to be somewhere in his mid-twenties, which surprised me, given his rank and responsibilities, but he hid his boyish looks behind a handlebar moustache that reached an impressive twirl off the sides of his cheeks, and a brown cape and bowler that commanded an air of authority .

“This is Constable Williams,” he said, indicating to the uniformed gentleman who had accompanied him.

Constable Williams was even younger than the inspector, and he had none of his superiors' authoritative demeanour as he stood there avoiding eye contact and shakily holding his notepad.

“Have you found who tried to kill my family?” Lee asked, almost impatiently.

The inspector stared between my brother and me, giving us the same curious look that we often received from strangers who hadn’t gotten used to our differences, and his colleague began to scribble down notes.

“The investigation is ongoing,” he replied, then he turned his body away from my brother, closing the conversation. “Mr Griffiths, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to confirm your movements on the day of the fire.”

We all stared around at each other, confused, before turning to Gwyn, who looked outright offended to even be asked.

“You can’t possibly be suggesting that Gwyn had anything to do with it?” I protested.

I rose from my seat and threw my arms up, emphasising the absurdity of it, and the constable began scribbling in his notepad again.

“I’m not suggesting anything, Mr Jacob,” Inspector Phillips said. “I’m merely following a line of inquiry. If you could please let me continue, we’ll get through this much faster.”

“I was at work,” Gwyn said, and he leaned against the arm of the chair with his arms folded, getting defensive as he spoke. “I check in my token every day. You can look in the register. That’ll show you.”

“And did you stay on-site during lunch?”

“I always do,” Gwyn replied. “In fact, I was with Joseph.”

“He was,” Joseph replied.

The inspector looked over at him, cocked an eyebrow and let out a low, ‘hmm’, before taking the notepad off his colleague and scribbling something down himself.

“And when you finished work, what time was that?”

“Around three. I walked home with Mr Jacob. That Mr Jacob,” he added, pointing to my brother. “And I stayed with him for the rest of the night. We were playing rugby down on the field behind the houses. We saw the fire and heard the bells, so we ran over. By the time we got there, they were pulling off in the carts for the infirmary.”

“I can corroborate that,” Lee said, coming to Gwyn's defence. “And so can about ten other men who were with us. Gwyn was there the whole time. He never left. Not even once.”

“I think that’s all then,” the inspector said, as he passed the notepad back to the constable.

“Wait a minute,” Gwyn said, getting to his feet. “You can’t just come and imply that I had something to do with it, and not even explain to me why.”

The inspector looked around the room at all the eyes on him, and for a second it seemed like his resolve weakened somewhat, but he quickly straightened up and squared out his shoulders again, then narrowed his eyes at Gwyn .

“A witness has come forward who claims to have seen you entering Aston’s Hardware Store on Oak Street at around 2 pm on the day of the fire, and exiting with a drum of turpentine.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Gwyn shouted, his face reddening with anger. “I’ve never even been in Aston’s.”

“His shift finished at three,” Lee said. “I can get you the registers to prove it. There’s no way he could have been where this person is saying he was.”

“I shall take that into consideration, Mr Jacob. I’ll be wanting to see those work registers, too. If any of you hear or remember anything more that could be of help to our inquiries, please call in at the station.”

“Oh, we will,” I said, frustrated by their diverted investigations. “Don’t you worry about that!”

“I’ll see you out,” Betty said, and the inspector tipped his hat to the room as he left.

“Tom, Nellie, you both know I would never do this to you.”

“We know,” Nellie said, reaching out a hand to comfort him. “It’s a bit of a weak connection anyway. I use turpentine all the time.” The room hushed as all eyes turned to her, and she raised a hand to her chest and looked between us. “It wasn’t me either, thank you. I’m just saying that buying it doesn't mean you’re an arsonist.”

“I didn’t buy it,” Gwyn protested. “I never have, I don’t think. Someone is either terribly mistaken or deliberately trying to set me up.”

I looked out the window again and stared down towards the lane, feeling foolish that none of the parts had come together before now. Someone was definitely trying to frame him or hurt him, and I knew just who it was.