Moonlight and Ashes Page 15

  Despite herself, she found him intriguing. Had it not been for the terrible scarring to his face, he could have been a handsome man, if not the friendliest person in the world. She recalled the night they’d all been summoned to the village hall to discuss the expected evacuees, and the terrible fight Miss Williams had waged with him to get him to agree to take one.

  ‘You have no choice in the matter,’ she had informed him coldly in that lisping Welsh voice of hers, and he had stormed out of the building with murder in his eyes.

  ‘Anyone would think we were asking him to take Jack the Ripper into his home instead of an innocent child,’ Miss Williams had sniffed, incensed, causing a murmur of amusement to ripple through the rest of those present.

  Her thoughts were pulled back to the present when she came to a stamped addressed postcard tucked into the bottom of Lizzie’s bag. ‘Well, look at that now, bach. Your mammy must love you very much. We’ll make sure that we put your address down and post this back to her first thing tomorrow, shall we?’

  The mention of her mother was too much for Lizzie, and suddenly the tears that she’d held back for the last few minutes spurted from her eyes again. With an agility that was surprising in a woman of her size, Mrs Evans sprinted across the room and snatched her to her ample bosom.

  ‘There, there now, bach,’ she soothed. ‘You’ll be seeing your mammy again soon enough, never you fear.’

  It was obvious that the child was loved and cared for, from the pretty clothes that she had taken out of her case. The little dresses had all been handmade and folded with care. Blodwyn Evans’s sympathy extended to the mother, who must be missing the girl as much as she was missing her. And so there they stood until the child had cried herself out.

  ‘That’s better now.’ The woman gently dried the wet cheeks and led her back towards the door. ‘Come away down now. From what I saw at the village hall you’d hardly eaten enough to keep a sparrow alive. And you’re so thin and pale. Some good country fresh air will soon put roses in your cheeks. Let’s get some supper inside you, eh? Then I’m sure you’ll start to feel better.’

  Once back in the warmth of the kitchen the woman bustled about getting some supper ready for Lizzie. Only a matter of minutes later, she placed two lightly boiled eggs and some bread and butter that she had cut into soldiers in front of her, and Lizzie’s mouth gaped open in pleasant surprise.

  ‘Hard to get, were they, back at home?’ Mrs Evans chuckled. ‘Well, don’t forget you’re in the country now, and eggs are ten a penny here. Now come on, get them down you, bach.’

  Lizzie’s appetite suddenly returned and in record time she had cleared her plate, much to the delight of the kindly woman. ‘That’s better,’ she crooned as she poured some thick creamy milk from a jug into a glass. ‘Now, try that. That will soon put some flesh on your bones.’

  Lizzie sipped at it then quickly drained the glass. She had never tasted such wonderful milk in her whole life.

  ‘It’s buttermilk,’ Mrs Evans explained and the child finally offered her a weak smile. Perhaps it wasn’t going to be so bad living here after all.

  From his place behind the newspaper, Mr Evans frowned. His wife was clearly taken with the child. He just hoped that she would cope with the loss when young Lizzie returned to her family. Blodwyn had spent days getting the little bedroom ready for her evacuee, and many tears had been shed in the process as he had carried down from the loft under the eaves all the things that had once belonged to the little daughter whom they had lost at the age of six. Oh, they had been blessed, and had then gone on to have two fine sons, but even so he knew that his wife had never got over the loss of their little Megan.

  Lowering his head he turned his attention to his paper as the painful memories flooded back.

  A pale grey light flooding through the gap in the curtains woke Danny the next morning. He yawned and stretched, then when he remembered where he was, a frown settled across his face. He was just wondering if he should get up or stay where he was when the smell of bacon floated tantalisingly up the stairs to him. His stomach groaned, so hastily throwing back the bedclothes he washed and pulled on his clothes.

  Crossing to the door, he cautiously opened it, and after sticking his head out, glanced up and down the landing. It was deserted, so making his way to the top of the stairs, he stared down into the hallway below. That too was deserted, but here the smell of bacon cooking was much stronger, and he allowed his stomach to rule his head and descended the stairs.

  ‘Your breakfast is ready, boy,’ a deep voice boomed as he turned into the hallway. Danny bravely walked towards the kitchen door, which was slightly ajar.

  He was surprised to see Mr Sinclair standing at the range expertly flipping bacon over in a large pan. He’d assumed the night before, when Mr Sinclair had collected him from the village hall, that Mrs Sinclair must have been unable to come, but still there was no sign of her when he peered around the room.

  ‘Sit yourself down at the table and have this while it’s hot,’ Mr Sinclair ordered, scowling as he looked towards the child.

  Danny, suddenly remembering that he hadn’t combed his hair, quickly licked his fingers and tried to flatten his unruly curls. Just for a second he thought he saw a flicker of amusement flit across Mr Sinclair’s face, but when he blinked and looked again, the man’s expression was as straight as ever. In the harsh light of day, he saw that one side of the man’s face was even more disfigured than he’d realised, and he had to try his best to stop himself from staring at him. As he seated himself sedately at the table, Samson rose from his place in front of the fire and ambled across to him. Danny risked giving him a very quick stroke before folding his hands neatly in his lap.

  If up to now his host and his accommodation had proved to be somewhat of a disappointment, his breakfast certainly wasn’t. Mr Sinclair piled his plate with rashers of crispy bacon and fluffy scrambled eggs that made Danny’s mouth water. This was washed down with copious amounts of freshly brewed tea and finished off with slices of toast dripping in butter.

  When he had finished Danny leaned back in his chair and smiled appreciatively. ‘That was delicious, Mr Sinclair. Thank you very much.’

  His host looked vaguely embarrassed as he snatched up the child’s empty plate and carried it to the sink. An uncomfortable silence settled on the room until Danny eventually asked, ‘Is there anythin’ that you’d like me to do?’

  Mr Sinclair shook his head. ‘No, and seeing as it’s Saturday you might as well go out and amuse yourself as best you can. Be sure to be back in for your dinner, though.’

  ‘What if I er . . . get lost?’ Danny questioned nervously.

  ‘Just ask for Tremarfon - that’s the name of the house. The villagers all know where I live. You can’t get lost though, if you keep to the road. It will take you straight down to the village and back again.’

  Danny slid from his chair and edged towards the door, afraid that the man might suddenly change his mind and decide to make him stay in. Lizzie was somewhere down in the village and he was desperate to find out how she was. He cast a regretful glance at the dog, who was watching him expectantly. He would have liked to take him for a walk, but was too afraid to ask Mr Sinclair if he was allowed to.

  ‘I’ll see you at dinnertime then?’ the little boy said timidly. A curt nod was the only response. As he stepped through the door, the view that met him took his breath away. As he’d thought, the house was surrounded by trees that dropped down to the village, but above the treetops was a stunning view of the sea. He hesitated, longing to make his way down to the strip of beach he could see shining in the sun. But then he turned towards the village, passing a huge outbuilding as he went. There would be time to explore when he had found out where Lizzie was and made sure that she was all right.

  He could see the village nestling in the valley below him as he followed the road that wound its way down the hill. Unlike yesterday, it looked set to be a fine day and he stared about him with
interest. There were other houses and cottages set into the hillside, and it was as he was passing one that a small head suddenly popped up over a hedge.

  ‘Y’awight then, mate?’ a cheerful little voice piped up. The next second, a wooden gate flew open and a boy about the same age as himself appeared. He was dressed in short grey trousers and a blazer that had long since seen better days. His socks had slipped down to around his ankles and his shoes were badly scuffed, but his smile was as bright as the sunshine and almost as bright as the shock of ginger-red hair that sprouted in unruly tufts from his head.

  ‘You one o’ the new kids what arrived yesterday then, are yer?’ he asked cheekily, in a broad cockney accent.

  ‘Yes. My name’s Danny Bright and I’m staying up at Tremarfon with Mr Sinclair.’

  ‘Cor blimey! Rather you than me, mate,’ the boy declared. ‘That bloke gives me the shivers wiv his eyepatch an’ his scars.’

  ‘He’s all right actually,’ Danny told him, though he had no idea why he was defending the man.

  ‘Goin’ down into the village, are yer?’ the boy asked.

  When Danny nodded, he fell into step beside him. ‘They call me Soho Gus,’ he introduced himself. ‘I’ve been ’ere fer a couple o’ months now. I’m stayin’ wiv the Thomas family at Derwen Deg back there. They’re all right an’ all, though the old woman ’as got a gob on ’er like a parish oven when she lets rip. It’s a wonder me old gel don’t ’ear ’er back in the East End when she starts. Derwen Deg is a farm, see, so that’s ’ow I know your Mr Sinclair. He comes down every mornin’ fer his milk.’

  Danny found himself really smiling for the first time since he’d left home, and hoped that he had found a friend. He was about to answer when something in the top pocket of the boy’s blazer caught his eye. He could have sworn he’d seen a movement, but thought he must have imagined it. He stared again, and sure enough, seconds later a small black nose appeared and he gasped in amazement. Following his eyes, Soho Gus laughed.

  ‘Meet Albert, me mate,’ and reaching into his pocket, he brought out a large white rat whose whiskers twitched and shone in the sun.

  Danny could hardly believe what he was seeing and was rendered temporarily speechless.

  ‘I brought ’im wiv me. After all, I could ’ardly leave’im at ’ome an’ expect the old gel to look after ’im, could I?’ Gus chuckled. ‘Mrs Thomas ain’t too keen, to tell the truth, but it’s like I told ’er - me an’ Albert come as a pair.’

  He held the rat out to Danny, and after he had dutifully stroked him, Gus popped him back into his pocket.

  ‘So what yer goin’ down into the village for then?’

  ‘I’m hoping to find my twin sister. She arrived yesterday with me but we were split up. I think the lady that took her said that her husband was the village blacksmith?’

  ‘Ah, she’ll be at Ty-Du wiv the Evanses then. I know where it is. I’ll take yer there, if yer like.’

  Danny nodded eagerly. ‘Oh, yes, please. Lizzie was really upset last night and I just want to make sure that she’s all right.’

  Gus wrinkled his nose in disgust. ‘I can’t say as I like girls,’ he admitted. ‘But then if she’s yer twin, I suppose it’s awight. Come on, we’ll be there in a jiffy.’

  Danny stayed close to his side as they made their way into the village, looking this way and that as he went. It looked much prettier in the sunshine, though after living in a city, Danny was shocked at how small it was. There was a little village shop that seemed to sell everything from pots and pans to groceries, and next to that was a tiny post office. Slightly further on was what Danny rightly assumed was the village school. It had painted railings all around it and a small concrete playground where the children were allowed to play outside when it was fine. Next to that was the village church, a picture postcard affair with beautiful stained-glass windows that sparkled in the sunlight, surrounded by a beautifully kept churchyard.

  Turning a corner, Soho Gus pointed beyond a village green that was surrounded by cottages. ‘That’s the smithy. Yer should find yer sister in that cottage stood next to it. Old man Evans is awight. He let me ’ave a go wiv ’is bellows one day when ’e were shoein’ a horse.’

  Danny was suddenly nervous as he slewed to a stop. What if the people who had taken Lizzie in wouldn’t let him see her?

  Sensing his new friend’s indecision, Soho Gus nudged him sharply in the ribs with his bony elbow. ‘Well, go on then, man. What yer waitin’ for? She ain’t gonna bite yer ’ead off, yer know.’

  ‘Will yer wait for me?’ Danny asked.

  Gus nodded vigorously. ‘Course I will, mate. I’ll take Albert to wait over by the duckpond.’ He strolled away as Danny tentatively approached the cottage door. He could hear banging and hammering coming from the smithy next door and wiped his suddenly sweaty hands down his trousers before knocking.

  Almost immediately, he heard someone approaching, and the next second the door swung open and he was gazing into the face of the big woman he had seen at the village hall the night before.

  ‘I . . . I’ve come to see me sister,’ he stuttered as hot colour burned into his cheeks.

  The woman’s face broke into a friendly smile. ‘Ah, so I see, bach. Come away in now. It’s right glad she’ll be to see you, so she will.’

  He stepped past her into a room that was neat and tidy and very homely. Nothing at all like the house where he was staying. The ceilings were low and beamed, and everywhere he looked were brasses, polished until they shone like mirrors.

  The woman crossed to a door and shouted up the stairs, ‘Come down now, Lizziebright, bach. You have a visitor.’

  He heard the sound of footsteps overhead and someone clatter down the stairs, and then Lizzie was launching herself across the kitchen at him as if she hadn’t seen him for months.

  Her kindly host felt a stab of envy sharp as a knife. It was more than obvious where the small girl’s affections lay. It was the first time she had seen her really smile since she arrived. She clearly adored her family, which forced Blodwyn to think on her husband’s warning. ‘Don’t go getting too attached to the child now, bach. Remember she has a family that she will be returning to one day, and that’s just as it should be.’

  Fixing a cheery smile to her face, the woman told Danny, ‘It’s good to see you, Dannybright. Will you be staying awhile? You’re more than welcome to.’

  Disentangling Lizzie’s thin arms from his waist, Danny glanced wistfully towards the sun that was streaming through the cottage window, casting a pool of golden light onto the carpet.

  ‘I was wondering if perhaps Lizzie and I could go out to play for a while? I made a new friend on my way here who knows his way about, so I promise we wouldn’t get lost.’

  ‘Oh, and who would that be then?’ Blodwyn smiled.

  ‘Soho Gus. He lives up the hill near me.’

  ‘Ah, I think I know the laddie you’re talking of. Doesn’t he have a pet mouse that he carries about with him?’

  ‘It’s a rat actually,’ Danny informed her gleefully. ‘His name is Albert and Soho Gus carries him everywhere in his pocket. He said he’d take Lizzie an’ me down to the beach if you’d allow it.’

  That was a pleasure that Blodwyn herself had been hoping to share with Lizzie later in the afternoon, but seeing the expectant look in the children’s eyes she didn’t have the heart to refuse them.

  ‘Very well then,’ she said. ‘But only for a couple of hours, mind. And don’t get going into the sea. There are currents out there that could sweep you away in no time.’

  ‘We won’t,’ the twins chorused, and Lizzie ran to fetch her shoes as Blodwyn turned her attention to Danny.

  ‘So, how is your stay with Mr Sinclair going then, bach?’

  Danny shrugged. ‘All right, I suppose. Mr Sinclair is very quiet but he cooked me a lovely breakfast.’

  ‘That’s good then.’ The conversation was stopped from going any further when Lizzie shot back to stand next
to Danny’s side.

  ‘You be sure to have her back for dinner now, laddie. You can stay for some yourself if you’ve a mind to.’

  Danny shook his head. ‘Thank you, Mrs Evans, but I’d best get back to Mr Sinclair’s. I promised I’d be home for dinner.’

  Blodwyn nodded understandingly. ‘That’s fine, bach. I have no wish to get you into trouble on your very first day here. Now off you go, the pair of you, and have a good time. Oh . . . and Lizziebright, pop this postcard to your mother in the postbox as you pass, bach.’

  Lizzie took the proffered card and they walked sedately to the door, but the second they were outside they broke into a run and hurried across to Soho Gus, who was lying on the deep green grass at the side of the duckpond.

  He leaned up onto his elbow, almost squashing Albert in the process as he heard them approach, and then the strangest thing happened. Less than an hour ago, he had confided in Danny that he didn’t like girls, but the second he laid eyes on Lizzie, who was looking very pretty with her blond hair tied up in a red ribbon, Gus blushed to the roots of his hair.

  ‘This is me sister, Lizzie,’ Danny informed him, as Lizzie glanced shyly at his new friend.

  Gus was totally tongue-tied, and for now all he could do was nod. Lizzie was like no other girl he’d ever set eyes on before. The girls back in the East End where he had come from tended to be skinny, grubby little things, and the Welsh girls he’d met since coming here just ignored him. But Lizzie . . . She was beautiful in Gus’s eyes and he was sure that she must be a princess in disguise. Thankfully she was so intent on studying Albert that she didn’t notice his reaction to her, and by the time she turned to say hello he had managed to compose himself.