The Homecoming Read online

  ‘We’ll be keeping well clear!’

  The two men looked so serious that Lydia and Glyn shared another smile at the thought of their fathers playing at ghosts.

  When they reached home, it was Glyn who helped Billy into his chair. He stood uneasily at the window, and Lydia asked, ‘Stay for a moment, will you, just while I see to Mam and get Dad a cup of tea.’

  ‘Something stronger wouldn’t go amiss,’ Billy muttered, but before Lydia could take a breath to argue, he had fallen asleep and was soon gently snoring.

  During the first few moments Glyn was there, Annie called down three times for some trivial thing. On the third occasion he put out an arm to stop her from running up to see what her mother wanted. He smiled and held out his hand to her.

  ‘Come on, Lydia, you need a break from this, you’ve had a nasty shock. We’ll go and find a late night café and share a pot of tea.’

  ‘But I can’t leave Dad, and—’

  ‘We’re going out for half an hour, Missus Jones,’ he called up the stairs. ‘Keep an eye on your Billy, will you?’ Covering Lydia’s ears against Annie’s tearful protests, he hurried her out.

  ‘What do you think really happened at the castle tonight?’ Lydia asked, when they were seated and had been served with their tea and hot buttered toast.

  ‘Your father is right, it wasn’t the work of that little menace Neville Nolan and his gang. Someone wanted to make sure no one else went wandering around the castle at night. First Molly being pushed, now your father.’

  ‘You knew before then? About your brother and Molly?’

  ‘That your friend is deliberately breaking up Tomos and Melanie’s marriage, yes, I know.’

  ‘Molly is fully responsible is it? Not Tomos too?’

  ‘Flattered he is that a girl like that would be interested in him.’

  ‘Could someone be watching them and trying to make Tomos behave? Frighten them off? After all, that was what your father was trying to do. Some relation of Melanie perhaps? Trying to make her husband behave?’

  ‘There’s no way your dad and mine could be mistaken for Tomos and Molly. No, I think this is something else. Perhaps we can put our heads together and find out what. But,’ he added firmly as she began to agree, ‘you must promise me you won’t go near that castle on your own, even during the day.’

  Wondering ifhe still cared or was simply mouthing platitudes, Lydia smiled but didn’t give her word.

  Sitting at a table behind them and unnoticed by the couple, a young man watched them with interest. He was trying to work out who they were. They were obviously uneasy with each other even though they were deep in conversation. He was puzzled. Did they know each other well or were they strangers learning about one another? He saw the man’s hand reach over to touch the girl’s arm and smiled as she pulled it away. A lovers’ quarrel. No doubt about it.

  He leaned their way, about to speak but changed his mind and moved slightly, hoping to overhear something of their conversation. The girl was a good looker and he might be willing to do some consoling if they were saying goodbye.

  Since Glyn and Lydia had cancelled their plans to marry, they had seldom met. Both seemed afraid to look at each other and perhaps reveal the strong affection that still simmered beneath the surface. Now, with the accident in which both of their fathers were involved having brought them together, they were in no hurry to separate. Glyn ordered a fresh pot of tea and Lydia was content to sit and talk.

  Gradually, they relaxed and sank into their previous companionship, although Lydia was wary not to be seduced into believing they could ever return to the love they had once shared and which she had thought would last all their lives.

  ‘When are you going to London? It is London where Cath lives, isn’t it?’ she forced herself to ask.

  ‘Oh, some time next month I think. It might be longer, after Christmas maybe. Cath is looking for accommodation and it isn’t easy.’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  Glyn turned back to her and stared into her eyes. ‘Until then, I’ll be very busy,’ he said as if forcing her to believe him. ‘I’m going to concentrate on building up Tomos’s business for him. I’ll have plenty to keep me occupied, stop me from feeling lonely.’

  Hot with anger and humiliation, Lydia stood up, scraping back her chair and reaching for her coat. ‘You don’t have to spell it out as if I’m a simpleton, Glyn Howe! I’m not looking to come back into your life. No, thank you. Cath is welcome to you! Ending our engagement was the best thing to happen to me and it’s something I’ll never regret. Never!’ She hurried from the cafe, but not so hastily she might give the impression she was hiding tears. She stopped at the doorway, turned and said calmly, ‘Stay away from me and if you want something to fill your time and stop you feeling lonely, while you sit and wait for Cath to organise your life for you, try and persuade that stupid brother of yours to stay away from Molly. Trouble you are the pair of you!’

  ‘Ex-girlfriend I gather,’ the man at the other table said with a smile. ‘Sorry, but it was impossible not to guess what was happening.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I don’t suppose it matters who heard us,’ Glyn said without looking at the man.

  ‘What was that about the castle? I understand it’s closed?’

  ‘I haven’t a clue, mate, ring the Guildhall, they’ll tell you.’ Glyn’s irritability showed. He shouldn’t have tried to be clever with Lydia, trying to hint that he was going to be too busy, warning her off. Now he’d lost the chance of them being friends, and it would be ages before she would talk to him.

  ‘Glyn Howe isn’t it?’ the man said.

  Glyn seemed not to hear. Without adding further to the conversation, he went out.

  * * *

  Billy didn’t go out for several days after the blow on the head and when he did, it was with Gimlet. The two friends walked along the foreshore, towards The Pirate, watching the sea in its winter mood with a full tide surging and boiling, touching the top of the sea wall. The man on whom Billy and Lydia had been making observations some days previously was sitting on a bench staring up at the castle. Around him men were busy working on boats; cleaning, repairing, painting, putting them away like expensive toys, until spring.

  ‘Seen that chap around, have you, Gimlet?’ Billy asked. ‘Lydia and I had a game trying to guess who he was. I thought he must have been in the army.’ He must have been talking louder than he realised, because the young man turned his head and stared at them. Then he walked over and Billy backed away, touching his injured head nervously, half expecting the man to complain about his nosiness, but as the man drew near he smiled.

  ‘Did I hear you say Gimlet? Would you be Gilbert Howe?’

  ‘I am, yes, and this is—’

  ‘Billy Jones?’ The man laughed at their puzzled expression, his deep-set eyes secretive in the tanned face. ‘You don’t remember me, I was only seventeen when you saw me last. Matthew Hiatt.’ He held out a hand. ‘Rosie Hiatt’s young brother. You might have forgotten me, but you can’t have forgotten my sister, Rosie. She disappeared sixteen years ago.’

  ‘No,’ Gimlet said shakily. ‘No, none of us have forgotten her.’ The three of them talked for a while but all the time, Gimlet was trying to get away and think. Rosie Hiatt’s brother, back after all these years. He wondered what he could want. Surely he couldn’t be hoping to find his sister after so much time had passed?

  ‘Rosie lodged with you and your wife, didn’t she?’ Matthew asked and Gimlet was so lost in the surprise of the meeting, it was some time before he realised the question was addressed to him.

  ‘Oh, yes, she did. Damn it all, I can’t believe you’re that seventeen year old Matthew Hiatt.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Matthew said, and there was a sudden coldness in his dark, hooded eyes. ‘That Matthew Hiatt has gone forever. This Matthew Hiatt is older, wiser and determined to find out what happened to his sister.’ Matthew had no strong desire to learn of the fate of the sister
he hardly remembered. If rumours were to be believed she was nothing but a tart, and she probably ran off to escape the fingernails of a jealous wife.

  ‘I thought I recognised Glyn the other day, in the Surf café late one night,’ Matthew went on. ‘With a very pretty girl, lovely curls and big blue eyes. Sparking mad they were I remember.’

  ‘That might have been my daughter, Lydia,’ Billy said.

  ‘Good heavens. Lydia? She’s grown into a beauty. I don’t think she was even in school when I left the village. I’ll have to introduce myself.’

  Billy didn’t reply. Anger flooded his still bruised and cut face, his swollen nose giving him a pugnacious expression. If even half the things Matthew Hiatt had been accused of all those years ago were true, then he didn’t want Lydia going anywhere near him! A right tearaway he’d been.

  Gimlet seemed unable to speak. He was staring at Matthew as if he’d seen a ghost. After so long, he hadn’t expected to see Rosie Hiatt’s brother return. He’d found his feet by the look of him, good clothes and plenty of money to spend on buying drinks. He’d obviously made a good life for himself after such a bad start. He wondered why he’d returned, but daren’t ask. Best he showed no interest in him at all.

  Later that evening, Billy and Gimlet saw Matthew in The Pirate. Once people knew who he was, reminiscences flowed with the drink and the occasion of Matthew’s reappearance seemed an excuse for celebration. Gimlet didn’t want to stay, but Billy persuaded him and he agreed, not wanting to raise any curiosity over his reluctance to spend time with Matthew. Or talk about Rosie.

  When closing time drew near, Matthew raised a glass and toasted, ‘Rosie Hiatt, wherever you may be.’ His companions solemnly echoed his words, and Billy puzzled briefly over the discomfiture showing on the face of Gimlet Howe. Why should his friend be worried if he wasn’t? It was so long ago, and no one would remember.

  * * *

  Molly was well contented with the fun of a secret affair with Tomos but increasingly she has begun to hope that it would lead to something permanent. Although Gimlet and Glyn knew about the affair nothing had been said once the warning had been given on the night of the attack. She knew Gimlet wanted them to end it but Tomos showed no sign of following his father’s wishes.

  They remembered with glee Gimlet and Billy’s attempts to haunt the castle, and only sobered when they began to wonder who had struck Billy such a blow that he had fallen from the high window.

  ‘Perhaps we aren’t the only ones to use the castle for our assignation,’ Tomos said.

  ‘Assignation, how romantic, Tomos.’ Molly smiled. ‘But if it was someone wanting privacy, they’ve got it. We won’t be going there again, will we?’

  ‘No?’ Tomos asked provocatively. ‘Not scared are you?’

  ‘Not if you’re with me, love.’

  ‘You’re such fun, Molly, and it’s fun I’ve missed with Melanie. I can’t imagine her facing the dark ruined castle for a few minutes of my company.’

  ‘It’ll be fun to go there and wonder if we’re being watched, or whether we’re disturbing another couple’s evening by our intrusion.’

  ‘You really would go there again?’

  ‘I think it would be a laugh, don’t you?’ If Tomos wanted to risk another visit to the castle, she wouldn’t refuse.

  Sex was usually blamed for a man seeking other delights but sex wasn’t always the purpose of their sometimes brief meetings. Tomos would talk and explain about his empty marriage and the futility of keeping up a pretence. She would discuss her affection for the Franks and her worries about their occasional health problems.

  ‘If it wasn’t for Mam and Dad insisting I stay, I’d be out of that house and into a place with you before you could say yes or no!’ Tomos said one evening.

  ‘Oh, Tomos, it’s a wonderful dream. Perhaps, one day we’ll make it come true?’

  ‘In the meantime we’ll add a bit of spice to our lives and go back to meeting at the castle, if you really dare,’ Tomos smiled. ‘This time we’ll take a couple of blankets, shall we? The mud up there is difficult to explain when I get home!’

  Access was easy via the window, and Tomos promised to take in a couple of torches and a few blankets. They thought they’d be safe from observation by Neville Nolan’s gang. The boys no longer used the area for their games, warned off perhaps by their parents. Certainly Gimlet and Billy would think twice about following them there. As for the person who attacked Billy, they tried to convince themselves that he would not risk returning.

  * * *

  Lydia was going to her aunt’s house one evening to collect a knitted pram set which she had made and which Stella had sewn up for her. It was late and although the evening was cold, the air was cleanly crisp and the sky looked newly washed, with an almost full moon and bright stars, and it was pleasant to stroll on the quiet streets. As she turned the corner and came in sight of her aunt’s gateway she saw Molly walking across the road to stand at the corner further along the lane than Stella’s house. What could she be doing out so late? Surely she and Tomos weren’t still using the castle for their meetings? She knew they were still seeing each other, although Molly refused to discuss it.

  She looked up at the towering walls, huge in the deceiving light of the moon and the distorting shadows. Allowing her imagination full rein she saw faces at the windows and people standing on the battlements, which she knew were only dappled shadows and tendrils of ivy but which frightened her nevertheless. How could they go there and sit and talk and kiss and not be aware of the atmosphere of danger it must surely hold? She knew she couldn’t go in there, not for anything.

  She was unashamedly curious and went to stand at her aunt’s gate. Tomos appeared soon after and slipped an arm around Molly’s shoulder. They must be keeping to the lanes, or perhaps they had found a place in the old lime kiln in the woods. But no, they climbed the gate with ease and walked up the steep grassy slope to the gateway of the castle.

  Lydia shuddered at the thought. At least she and Glyn had been able to sit in the warmth and comfort of her parents’ kitchen. Thoughts of Glyn and the evenings they had spent beside the small fireplace which heated the domestic water, saddened her. She tried to convince herself that she was better off than Molly, who loved a man who wasn’t free, but the melancholy the memories revived wouldn’t go away.

  Their laughter echoed back to where she stood and for a moment she was consumed with jealousy, an aching wish that it was she walking to a castle rendezvous with Glyn. But then a shadow passed over the moon, momentarily blotting out all but the faintest reflection of the building in the starlight and she told herself that nothing, not even Glyn, could make her face that.

  * * *

  Inside the castle, the moonlight transformed the place into a stage-set. The first character was already playing his part. A tall man was pacing around in the area that had once been the kitchens.

  The three huge fireplaces were still there, with the wide chimneys reaching up to the highest part of the curtain wall. There was no roof but much of the stone walls remained. He moved to the fireplace in the centre of the long wall where he was shadowed from the surprisingly bright moonlight. Swiftly and silently he measured and marked places with some short bamboo canes he had brought, concentrating on his task, forcing memory to assist him. For the third undisturbed night he had lifted several areas of turf and dug out shallow pits in the hope of finding what he had buried so long ago. He worked methodically, each night’s digging marked with the sticks, which he took away with him at the end of his session. So far there had been nothing but a few coins, cigarette packets, an earring and, unbelievably, some bicycle clips.

  He wasn’t too disappointed when, having dug as deeply as he planned, he had failed to find anything. He was almost certain he was still too far from the steps leading to the battlements. Starting further over was a precaution. He didn’t want to have to go back over where he had searched and start poking about like a crazy mole. This way he w
ould cover the ground methodically and thoroughly and be certain to find what he was looking for without too much disturbance.

  He took a long time replacing the turves. The neater it was done the sooner the scars of his search would fade. Thank goodness there was plenty of rain in this area. It would soon re-settle and by the time work was due to start, in April, no one would know it had been disturbed. The second pit was covered as neatly as possible and he raised his spade to begin a third. He was so intent on his task that the sound of voices didn’t penetrate for a moment. When it did he swore angrily. A woman’s voice. A man’s. Laughter. He gave a growl of rage and stepped back into the shadow of the wall.

  What more would he have to do to make people stay away? He remembered the night when he had come upon the two men suddenly as they climbed out of the window, and hitting out at one of them in pure panic in fear of being seen and recognised. He was glad he had taken the precaution of preparing another trap. He felt reasonably certain these present nuisances wouldn’t go to the police. Knowing who they were, he doubted if they would want to report a fall of rocks in a place where they had no right to be, and in the wrong company.

  They had to be using the window, the same way he had entered. If it was Tomos Howe and that girl, he would have at least an hour before they were ready to leave. With short footsteps he glided along keeping to the walls, moving like a wraith in the eerie light of the moon. The window by which they entered had a pile of rock below it. A wall had collapsed and by moving some of the smaller rocks and reinforcing the pile, Neville Nolan and his gang had created a pathway to make access and exit easy.

  The tall man had removed and rebuilt it, spending three back-breaking nights on the job. Now, once he was up on the sill of the window, he only had to heave a couple of pieces of wood out of place and the lot tumbled, leaving no easy way for anyone inside the castle to get out.