Finders and Keepers (25 page)

‘I remember, and I promise faithfully that I will give everything to the sister. Have you seen Martha Ellis?'

‘I have, and she's almost back to normal.'

‘That's good news.' Harry couldn't stop looking at Diana.

‘See you outside later, Harry, and don't forget to ask about the arm.' Toby turned the corner of the corridor.

‘The arm?' Diana murmured.

‘Toby wants to paint your arm holding a sword. It will be coming out of a lake,' Harry explained.

‘Me as the Lady of the Lake.'

‘Your arm, at any rate. Any chance of a walk tonight?' he whispered after a nurse passed.

‘My parents have a dinner party. Maybe tomorrow.' She held up a file as her father approached. ‘If you'll excuse me, Mr Evans.'

‘Of course, and thank you for the progress report on my grandfather.'

Billy's bed had been wheeled out on the balcony again. Just as before, Harry found him sitting up and reading.

‘Behave, and they might give us an extra five minutes,' Billy said when Harry sat beside his bed.

‘Is that you hoping or the sister promising?' Harry asked.

‘The sister agreeing after she's been nagged to death,' she answered, without looking up from the papers on her desk.

Billy closed his book. Always a quick reader, he'd finished
Tom Jones
and was halfway through a combined edition of
Three Men in a Boat
and
Three Men on the Bummel.
‘How is everyone at home?'

‘All the better for hearing that you have settled in here,' Harry replied guardedly. ‘I saw Uncle Joey and Uncle Victor – they're both coming here this Saturday. The aunts wanted to come with them but Doctor Adams won't allow you more than two visitors at a time. I brought you some more strawberries and a bucketful of letters, drawings, cards and books from Dad and the uncles. I gave them to the sister -'

‘Who will pass them on when she sees fit and not before,' the sister interrupted.

‘Since when were you invited into the conversation?' Billy's friendly tone belied his words, and Harry sensed that a rapport had already developed between his grandfather and the staff.

‘Since I recognized that you're the type of patient who needs a firm hand, Mr Evans.' She left her desk and joined them on the balcony. ‘And if you are going to have two visitors the day after tomorrow, your visit shouldn't last more than five minutes now.'

‘Come on, Sister,' Billy coaxed. ‘Five more minutes aren't going to tire me out.'

As before, Harry heard his grandfather's voice weakening. ‘I'll talk to him but won't ask him any questions,' he promised.

‘Five minutes, Mr Evans, but only on condition that you do the listening and your grandson does most of the talking,' she warned.

Not wanting to dwell on what was happening in Pontypridd lest he inadvertently slip up and say more than he should about Edyth, Harry moved the conversation on as soon as he'd assured Billy that everyone in the family was as well and as happy as they could be without him. So he talked about the people he'd met in the valley: the mother and son who ran the garage and the inn; Toby Ross; and, halfway into the story before realizing that it wasn't a happy one, the Ellises, and how the family had lost their farm.

Turfed out unceremoniously by the ward sister after ten minutes, Harry found Diana Adams waiting by the lift cage.

‘Good morning again, Miss Adams.' He gave her a guarded smile.

‘Mr Evans.' Her dark-blue eyes gazed into his. ‘I trust you found your grandfather in good spirits?'

‘Just as you said he would be.'

‘My father is pleased with the way that he is responding to our fresh air and dietary treatment.'

The lift arrived. Harry waited for Diana to precede him into it. He closed the doors and she pressed the button. When they were between floors she pressed a red button and the lift juddered to a halt.

‘Something to remember me by until tomorrow evening.' She held her finger to her lips before pulling down his mask and hers. Pressing the length of her body against his, she kissed him hard on the mouth. He leaned against the wall of the cage.

She moved back, lifted the gown that covered his flannel suit and unbuttoned his flies. Slipping her hand inside his trousers, she fingered his erection.

‘Diana …' The half-hearted protest died in his throat when she kissed him again. He cupped her left breast with his right hand. Her nipple had hardened into a peak that he could feel even through the layers of her clothes.

A bell rang in the lift. She released him abruptly, rearranged her gown, pulled up her mask and pressed the button again. The lift continued its journey. He was still adjusting his mask when they reached the ground floor.

Toby was sitting, waiting for Harry in his car. His eyes narrowed when he climbed in and sat beside him.

‘You all right?'

‘Hot. The lift got stuck between floors,' Harry said truthfully.

‘Your grandfather?'

‘Looking remarkably well. He said he'd seen your uncle.'

‘Incredible, isn't it? Last week I thought Frank was at death's door. Today they wheeled his bed out on the balcony.'

Harry pressed the ignition. ‘So where am I taking you?'

‘The inn.' Toby made a wry face. ‘The good news is that Frank was happy with the composition. The bad, there isn't enough gold in the painting for his liking. Naturally he's absolutely spot on. The illustration would be more stirring and impressive if there was. But hopefully, if I work like hell, I'll be able to finish it today and start on the lake tomorrow. You sure you don't mind dropping me back at the inn?'

‘Not at all,' Harry replied easily.

‘You going up to the lake afterwards?'

‘I thought I might visit the reservoir,' Harry teased.

‘You'll never succeed in capturing it successfully on canvas if you persist in calling it that.'

‘So you say.'

‘And you won't forget that grass is green, the sky blue and water reflects the light from the sky?'

‘I'm not that much of a novice,' Harry said testily.

‘Given your present condition and mood you might forget.'

‘What condition and what mood?'

‘The Snow Queen's obviously – how can I put this delicately? – got you going.'

‘What makes you think I even met Miss Adams in the sanatorium?'

Toby grinned. ‘Your flies are undone.'

Harry glanced down, saw his shirt tail protruding from his flies and turned crimson. He slammed on the brakes, pulled over and buttoned his trousers.

‘For someone who said he was hopeless at seduction, it didn't take you long to thaw the Snow Queen. Or did she thaw you?' Toby asked mercilessly.

Mary spent most of the morning working in the dairy. After making six pounds of butter, she turned every one of the four dozen cheeses that were ripening on the stone shelves. She cleared all the paddles and butter-shapers that needed washing into the churn, stood behind it, straightened her back, took a deep breath and picked it up. Kicking the door open with her foot, she carried it across the yard and left it next to the stone trough in the scullery, ready for washing. On her way back to the dairy to fetch the milking buckets, she saw Martha sitting, elbows on knees, her chin cupped in her hands, on the kitchen doorstep.

‘You're not feeling any worse, are you, darling?' she asked in concern.

‘No.' Martha stared blindly into space. ‘Just tired of having nothing to do.'

‘If you feel like doing something, you could go in the barn and check the chicken coops for eggs.'

‘I've already done that and filled both baskets.'

‘You could pick some beans for dinner.'

‘Matthew did that.'

‘Miss Adams said you should rest.' Mary lifted the buckets into the yard and closed the door of the dairy.

‘I'm tired of resting. I want to do something.' A crotchety tone crept into Martha's voice.

‘All the dairy equipment needs scrubbing with soda.'

‘That's a horrible job.'

‘I know it is. That's why I hoped you'd help me with it.' Mary looked over Martha's shoulder into the kitchen. ‘Where are Matthew and Luke?'

‘Matthew's taken Luke down to the reservoir. He said I couldn't go because I'd slow him down, although I can walk quicker than Luke, even after banging my head.'

‘The baby …' Mary dropped the bucket and ran across the yard.

‘It's all right,' Martha yelled after her. ‘We saw that man down there. He won't let Luke fall in.'

‘What man?'

‘The man who took us to chapel … Wait for me,' Martha shouted when Mary picked up her skirts and ran to the gate that opened out of the back of the yard.

Harry glimpsed movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned around and saw Matthew leave the farmyard by the back gate. His progress was slow, because every few yards the small boy stopped either to set down the baby he was carrying, or pick him up. He was trying to get Luke to walk, but although the child toddled a few steps quite happily, a few was as many as he was prepared to take because he preferred to sit down and play with the grass.

Harry started sketching out the composition of his watercolour and became so engrossed in placing the lake in relation to the surrounding hills that he almost forgot Matthew and Luke until twenty minutes later, when Matthew's shout took him by surprise.

‘What you doing, mister?'

‘Sketching out a painting,' Harry replied without looking up from his canvas. ‘What are you doing down here?'

‘This is my family's land, I can go wherever I like on it,' Matthew announced proudly. He dropped the baby behind Harry, and stared at the canvas Harry had placed on his easel.

‘I hope you don't mind me being here,' Harry murmured, expecting the boy to be as confrontational as his brother.

‘You can stay here, as long as you don't bother our sheep. That's our prize ewe over there.' Matthew pointed to a sheep, indistinguishable to Harry from the hundreds of others that grazed on the hills around them. ‘She's had fifteen lambs. And we've sold them all.'

‘How is your sister today?'

‘She's still not right in the head but Miss Adams came up this morning for our eggs and she said that Martha is getting better.'

‘She told me the same thing. Why do you say she's not right in the head?' Harry asked.

‘Because she's all mopey and weepy.' Matthew sat cross-legged on the grass, lifted Luke on to his lap and looked over Harry's shoulder. ‘Is that square you've drawn up there supposed to be our house?'

‘This is only a rough outline of something I am going to paint later.'

‘It doesn't look like our house.'

‘This is only the plan of a painting. All I am doing now is placing the things on the canvas.'

‘What do you mean?' Matthew stared at him through large brown eyes.

‘Putting things where they'll be when the painting is finished,' Harry explained.

‘Wouldn't it be better to draw them properly in the first place, if that's where they are going to be?'

‘Shouldn't you be in school?' Harry asked, his patience wearing thin.

‘School's too far away for us to go. Besides, we all have to work on the farm.'

‘You're not working now.'

‘Am so,' Mathew contradicted. ‘It's my job to look after Luke. But I wish David and Mary would give me another job to do. Taking care of Luke is girls' work. They think I'm too young to shear the sheep, do the milking and kill the chickens. But Davy did all those things when he was my age. All I ever get to do besides look after Luke is collect the eggs and dig up the vegetables.' He stared, solemn-faced, at Harry. ‘I'm not a baby.'

‘I can see you're not.' Harry had difficulty keeping a straight face.

‘Don't, Luke.' Matthew pulled the baby away from Harry's open haversack.

‘I can also see that Luke listens to you,' Harry said wryly.

‘He does most of the time,' Matthew countered defensively.

Harry took his haversack from the child and removed the tin boxes Mrs Edwards had given him that morning. One was labelled ‘Sweet', the other ‘Savoury'. He lifted the lid on the one marked ‘Savoury' to reveal four slices of veal and ham pie set between sheets of greaseproof paper, three layers of miniature cheese and onion tartlets and two cold boiled eggs. He offered the box to Matthew. ‘Are you hungry?'

Luke reached out and grabbed a tartlet.

‘He is,' Matthew commented superfluously.

‘Don't you want anything?' Harry persevered.

‘What's that?' Matthew pointed to the veal and ham pie.

‘Pie. Try some, it's good.' Harry took one of the four slices and handed it to the boy. He took another for himself and bit into it. ‘Painting is hungry work.'

‘Painting's not work,' Matthew sneered.

‘Not physical work like you do on a farm perhaps,' Harry agreed, ‘But it's still work.'

‘My dad used to say that sitting on your arse all day scribbling in books isn't real work and what you're doing isn't much different.'

‘Matthew,' Mary reprimanded breathlessly as she ran up to them, ‘how many times have I told you not to use words like that?'

‘Arse isn't so bad. Davy says -'

‘I'll be having a word with David about what he says when you are around, big ears. And you know you're not allowed to bring Luke down here near the water,' she scolded.

‘He can't fall in when I'm holding him.' Before Matthew had finished speaking, Luke had wriggled from his grasp. Lurching forward, he grabbed another cheese tartlet and stuffed it whole into his mouth.

‘He'll choke.' Mary lifted him up, but before she could retrieve the tart, Luke swallowed it. He beamed up at her and chortled.