Page 8 of Echoes on the Wind (Borrowed Time #2)

“Nellie, come quickly,” Gwyn shouted as he pulled me through the door of the house.

Sweat poured down his face as he crouched under my armpit to hoist me up and pull me along, and I could feel the heat radiating from him through his exertion. The agony in my arm and foot made moving difficult, so he’d practically dragged me back to Nellie’s, ascending the hill to the house with great speed, but also with great effort, and I could hear his chest wheezing.

I don’t know if I’d passed out by the time I hit the bottom of the coal mound, but before I’d even had a chance to process what had happened, Gwyn was right there with me, alongside another man, desperately clawing at the rubble with their bare hands to free my pinned leg. The other man had been anxious to get me out before the foreman spotted what had happened, and kept telling Gwyn that he needed to get me off-site.

As soon as my leg was free, they whisked me away. The man helped Gwyn carry me as far as the road, but then turned and ran back to the site, shouting to Gwyn that he would cover for him and check in on me later, leaving Gwyn to pull me the rest of the way alone.

Once inside the living room, he propped me down on the couch, and my immediate concern was about how dirty I was going to make it. The house was spotless, but my fall left me looking like all of the other miners on the site, every inch of me black with dust. Nellie didn’t seem to mind, though, or perhaps she didn’t even notice, because when she raced into the living room towards Gwyn’s yells, she jumped straight into action, retrieving a large, wide briefcase from the side of the fireplace and setting it upon the coffee table, ready to begin her work.

“What on earth happened?” she asked, reaching into her bag for some scissors. “I need cloths and hot water.”

Gwyn ran from the room as Nellie began cutting through my bloodied sleeve, revealing a large wound above my right elbow. I’d kept my arm bent to my chest the entire way home, and she was cautious about straightening it before assessing the damage, so she cut right up to my collar, peeling the whole front of my shirt across my chest.

“I’m going to have to stitch that,” she said, and I hoped that she meant the shirt rather than my arm.

“What else can I do?” Gwyn asked as he came back into the room and put a bowl of water down beside Nellie.

“Well you can start by telling me what happened,” she said.

“He fell down a spoil tip. He was out cold when I got to the bottom, and his leg was pinned.”

“This one?” Nellie asked, pointing to my right leg .

I nodded, and she grabbed the scissors again, cutting right up my trouser leg.

She started her assessment by feeling around my knee, and when she was satisfied that there was no damage there, she worked her hands downward. When she reached my ankle, I let out a yelp, and I tried to pull my leg away from her, but she held me firm in her grasp.

“It’s definitely swollen,” she said. “Bruised, too.” She felt around a little more, then pulled off my shoe and sock before feeling her way down my foot and making me wiggle my toes. “A sprain, I think. Nothing appears to be broken, anyway. You should stay off it for a little while.”

“Oh no, what’s happened?” Betty asked as she came into the living room.

She clasped her mouth and looked at me curiously. It wasn’t so long ago that the sight of me, or anyone, with their leg and chest exposed, would have made her flush red with embarrassment and rendered her speechless, but now she just stared, more fascinated than alarmed.

“Just sit quietly while I look at this,” Nellie said, and both Gwyn and Betty took to the armchairs in silence.

She wrung out a rag and cleaned around the wound until it looked more like my normal skin colour, then took a bottle from her bag, tipped some of its contents onto a clean cloth, and dabbed the cut with it. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it stung like hell, and I had to clench my jaw and breathe through my teeth to stop from crying out .

“Now,” she said, reaching back to her supplies, “I’m not technically supposed to be doing this, but we don’t have much choice unless you want a few nights at the infirmary, so if anyone asks you, I’ll deny any knowledge of it.” She gave me a mischievous grin, then held up a large needle that hooked at the end, making me wish I was unconscious again. “This will hurt a bit.”

It wasn’t actually as painful as I’d expected, given that I already had an open gash in my arm. Nonetheless, I was glad when it was over and she began to bandage me up. After a few more tests, she assured me that nothing was broken, but insisted that I wore a sling until the pain in my arm eased, and set about making one out of her bandages.

“You’ve had a bump to your head, but I can’t do anything for that, I’m afraid. You’ll have a nice bruise and maybe a little lump to accompany it for a few days. If it gives you any headaches, let me know, and I’ll make you up a vinegar cloth.”

When a knock came at the door, Betty was the one who rose to answer it, and Nellie took the bowl of dirty water back to the kitchen, leaving Gwyn and I alone momentarily.

He got up from his seat and took my uninjured hand in his, smiling at me pitifully as I lay injured before him. “This is like how we met,” he whispered. “Only this time, it’s you that needs saving.”

“How is he doing?” a voice called from the hallway, and I recognised it as that of the other man who’d helped to rescue me. He had an accent that was unmistakable but unfamiliar. Almost like French, but not quite .

“He’ll do anything for attention,” Gwyn joked, shaking the newcomer's hand as he entered. “Tom, this is Joseph. Joe, this is Tom.”

He extended an arm to me, then retracted it when he noticed the sling. “That was quite a fall. How are you feeling?”

“I do like to make an entrance,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Can I get you a drink?” Betty asked, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear as she blushed at Joseph. I raised an eyebrow in her direction, but she didn’t seem to notice. Joseph must have caught on though, because he quickly pulled his cap from his head and held it at his chest, returning her smile, and when he nodded, she ducked out of the room with a wide grin on her face.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t too beat up,” he said, turning his attention back to me. “Sorry I had to rush you away. We’re not supposed to have anyone on site. The boss doesn’t like it. Insurance or something.”

“It’s a wonder he’s got any insurance left,” Nellie said as she began to pack up her bag. “The place is a death trap. You’d think it would be the men underground I’d have to worry about, but just since we arrived here, we’ve had a roof come down off one of the buildings, two machines falling apart, and a fire. That’s not to mention all the accidents. I’ve had to treat cuts and bruises, burns and broken bones, and all sorts. The place is falling apart at the seams, and it’s those men who are getting the worst of it.”

“Here you go,” Betty said .

She handed Joseph a glass of lemonade, seemingly unconcerned that the rest of us might be thirsty, and smiled as he took a sip, as though she wanted to ensure that he enjoyed it. When he smiled back, she tucked her hands behind her back and dashed off out of the room again.

“ Cooee .”

An unfamiliar voice in the hallway caused all of us to turn our attention to the door, and as the click-clack of heels echoed towards us, I turned and raised an eyebrow at Gwyn, who shrugged in return.

“Mrs Evans? Anybody home?”

Nellie rolled her eyes, then quickly fixed a welcoming smile upon her face as an older woman appeared in the doorway. “Mrs Bowen, what a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you.”

The woman stared around the room with a look of amusement before clasping her hands together at her waist. She was wearing some of the finest clothes I’d ever seen, though she seemed completely overdressed for a house call. The purple silks and satins of her dress sat over a bustle that protruded so far from her backside that she’d have struggled to turn in too small a space, and her hat was equally as excessive, adorned with ribbons and feathers. She made the rest of us look like we’d been picked up in a yard sale.

“Well, I declare,” she said, producing a fan seemingly out of nowhere to waft at her face. “You do seem to have your hands full, Mrs Evans. I hope I’m not intruding.”

Nellie gritted her teeth but continued to smile as she nudged her bag of medicines out of the way. “Well, actually, I’m– ”

“Excellent. You see, I wanted to discuss your attendance at the Welsh Women’s Society meetings. As the wife of a headteacher, I really do think it would be most beneficial to have you come along.”

“And I’m grateful for the invitation, of course,” Nellie replied. “I’m just not sure that I have the time at the moment, what with all of my training.”

“Oh yes,” the woman said, casting an eye towards the bag that Nellie seemed desperate to conceal. “Your training. How novel. I honestly don’t know how you do it all with a husband and such a big house to look after, too.”

“I manage,” Nellie replied, though her smile was beginning to look pained. “And I–”

“Marvellous,” Mrs Bowen said, cutting her off again. “So we shall see you on Friday, sharp.”

“I really–”

“Anyway, I must be off. Much to do. I will leave you to… your work.”

She smiled a farewell around the room, then reversed herself into the hallway and rushed towards the door.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I looked over at Nellie, who brought her hands to her face and shook her head, then moved to the cabinet in the corner of the room and poured herself a measure of whiskey.

“What was that about?”

She took a sip from her glass and then held it in front of her, waving it as she spoke. “She thinks my being the headmaster’s wife will lend legitimacy to her calls for liberation. If I thought for a second that those calls were in any way serious, I’d be there to do my part, of course, but I’ve attended her meetings before, and liberation is the last thing on her mind. She charges the ladies ha’penny a week to collect gossip and listen to her lectures about good housekeeping, and I’ve no intention of attending just to be told that I need to be a better wife. We’ve had nary an encounter where she hasn’t made a snide remark about my work, and I won’t pay her for the privilege.”

“You should send Mair in there,” Gwyn joked, and Nellie smirked into her glass at the notion.

“They don’t deserve that,” I replied, then as I tried to sit up, I let out a yelp of pain, causing Nellie to rush over.

“I’m sorry, Tom. I didn’t mean to get distracted,” she said, and I smiled at her to let her know that it was fine. “Gwyn, I’ve already put some extra blankets in your room. I was going to suggest that Tom take the floor until Gethin brings the cot down from the attic, but I think it’s going to be you on the floor tonight, I’m afraid. Is that ok? In fact, you should probably take him up now.”

“Do you want any help?” Joseph asked.

“No, I can manage,” Gwyn replied as he put my arm over his shoulder.

I got to my feet and leaned against him for support, then began to hop towards the door.

“Your accent,” I said, turning in the doorway to face Joseph. “I can’t place it. Where are you from?”

“Mauritius,” he replied, “But I’ve been here for almost a year.”

“Where’s that?” Betty asked as I began to climb the stairs, and by the time I reached the top, they were deep in conversation about his homeland .

There were three doors on the landing, all leading to different bedrooms, and Gwyn led me to the one directly opposite the peak of the stairs. Once inside, I perched myself down on the bed and had a good look around.

Although small, it was decorated with fine wallpaper and fancy curtains. All the bed linens matched, and the bed itself was sturdy and solid, though if another one was brought in to put beside it, it would leave only about a six-inch gap between them.

Though it wasn’t very wide, the room ran the width of the house, and the wall at the far end had space for both a dresser and a small fireplace, which Nellie had already filled with coal. All in all, it would be a very cosy upgrade from the rooms I’d stayed in back in Cwm Newydd.

“Are you alright?” Gwyn asked as he sat down beside me.

“My pride is a little dented, but I’ll live.”

He rested his head down on my shoulder, then turned his face to kiss it, taking extra care not to knock my arm. I longed to pull his clothes off or even just throw my arms around him in a tight embrace, but the pain kept me still. Instead, I let myself enjoy the feeling of his lips trailing up my neck.

“You better get out of those clothes,” he said.

“I don’t know what funny business you’ve got in mind, Mr Griffiths, but I’m an injured man.”

“As fun as that might be, I mean because of this.” He grabbed the torn bits of my sleeve and gave them a wave. “I don’t think you’ll be wearing this again. ”

He let the torn fabric fall, and I brushed my hands through the hairs on my chest, which had matted to my skin with sweat and dirt. “I need a shower.”

He knelt on the floor in front of me, his legs on either side of mine, and looked up at me as he unlaced my boot. “Tom, before you fell, you said you saw your brother.”

He was giving me the same look that his sister had given me when I mentioned Lee, like I might be going crazy. “I did,” I replied sternly. "It was definitely him. I think.”

“But how?”

He made himself more comfortable on the floor, leaning back against the wall as I recounted what had happened leading up to my return. For more than an hour, he sat and listened, staying completely silent as I told him about the letter we’d found, how Elinor had still been alive with the necklace, and about the man who had been watching me, who’d broken into the house. By the time I got to the part where I left the village with Betty, it had gotten dark outside, and he’d had to light the candles in the bedroom.

“You should count yourself lucky you didn’t end up like Elinor and your father,” he said, his face filled with concern.

“What do you mean?” I asked, puzzled by his reaction. I’d ended my story by telling him about the journey to find him in Bryncoed, but he’d obviously gotten stuck somewhere further back. “What have my father and Elinor got to do with it?”

“You said she was 94 when you met her in your time. 2001, right? But your dad was in his 60s when he died two years ago. He was older than Elinor, Tom. That means the same thing happened to them as what happened to you and Lee. Only they were separated by thirty years.

“I hadn’t even thought about it,” I admitted. When they’d told me her age at the care home it had taken me by surprise, but by the time I actually met her, I was so overwhelmed that it had completely gone out of my mind.

I looked at the ring on my finger and picked at the debris that had gotten caught under the band. “I still don’t really know how any of it works.”

Gwyn’s tone became more serious, and he put his hand on mine, covering the ring. “That thing could have sent you anywhere. What if you hadn’t come back to me? You could have gotten stuck anywhere, Tom.”

He was frowning with concern, and I snaked my fingers into his, trying to reassure him. “It was worth the risk.”

“Well, let it be the last one you take.” He pulled the ring from my hand and held it at the very tip of his fingers, barely able to bring himself to touch it, before tossing it onto the dresser. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” I grinned, and I reached up to his face, pulling him down to mine. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

He grabbed the torn fabric of my shirt and ripped it down to the hem, then tossed it across the room like a rag and lifted his own up over his head.

I let out a wince as he put just a little bit too much pressure on my arm, but any feelings of pain were soon forgotten as he kissed me from my shoulder to my neck, then continued up to my lips.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered.

At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, he launched himself backwards off the bed, and I whispered out an annoyed, “Fuck,” both from the pain in my arm and my frustration at our lack of privacy.

A knock came at the door, and Gwyn pulled his shirt back on, kicking my torn shit under the dresser as he reached for the handle.

I smiled as Nellie entered with a wash bowl, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, but she couldn’t have failed to notice the odd angle at which I was spread across the bed, shirtless, with one leg draped over onto the floor.

“I thought you might like to get cleaned up,” she said. “We’ve a bath downstairs, all plumbed in,” she added, looking more than a little bit proud of her improved status. “But I daresay you won’t want to be up and down the stairs just yet. I can go and get the tin from the shed, though, if you’d like?”

I looked down at the dirt that seemed to be covering every inch of me, but I didn’t want to put her out any further. It would be one thing lugging the heavy tin bath upstairs for me to use, but another thing entirely to boil all the water for it.

“I’ll be fine with the wash bowl,” I replied. “Thank you.”

“As long as you’re sure. Gwyn can give you a hand getting cleaned up. And make sure he gets some rest,” she added, turning to him.

Once she’d left us alone again, he began to rummage through the bag that I’d brought, pulled out some long johns and a shirt to sleep in, then set them on the bed and helped me to undress.

“Betty seemed quite taken by your friend,” I said as I shimmied out of my trousers.

“Joseph? He’s a nice chap. We started at the mine at the same time, and we’ve sort of stuck together ever since. He’s only twenty-one, but he gets a lot of bother off some of the men because… you know.”

“Because he’s Black?” I asked, causing Gwyn to stop washing my arms and look at me with surprise.

“Well I might not have been so blunt,” he replied. “But aye, because of that. Some folk could do to learn not to be so mean-minded. Joseph’s a good man, and he’s looked out for me more than once. That’s good enough for me. Betty could do a lot worse.”

He was doing a poor job of cleaning me up, but I was grateful for the help and smiled as I watched him work. When he was done, he dressed me in some fresh clothes and helped me into bed.

“I’m going to go and get you something to eat,” he said, planting a kiss on my forehead. “I won’t be long. And once I’m back, we can start making plans to find your brother.”

I smiled at him as he left the room, and listened out for his steps on the stairs, but before he’d even reached the bottom, I’d fallen fast asleep.