Thankfully, they were once again on better terms, possibly because Maggie studiously avoided asking him any personal questions.
In the time that she’d been there, she had totally transformed
Tremarfon
; the house was now warm and welcoming. She’d washed and ironed every scrap of clothing she could lay her hands on, as well as all the bedding, which had resulted in Eric coming back most days to find wet washing strung from a line on the ceiling that stretched from one end of the room to another.
‘It’s getting to look like a Chinese laundry in here,’ he had teased her. ‘If I’m not careful you’ll be putting me in the copper next.’
‘I don’t think you’d fit in,’ she smiled back, but the smile did nothing to hide the fear and heartache she was feeling and he saw through her brave front and felt her pain.
Strangely, he found that he too was missing Danny more than he could have imagined, and it came as quite a shock to him. He came home late one afternoon to find Maggie in the dining room gazing up in awe at the portrait of the fair-haired woman.
‘Did you paint this?’ she dared to ask.
As his eyes locked onto the portrait, he nodded.
‘She’s very beautiful,’ Maggie said.
‘
Was,
’ he told her. ‘She
was
beautiful. She’s dead now, but . . . she was my wife.’
Maggie stared at him in dismay. ‘Oh, Eric, I’m so sorry. Trust me to go and put my big foot in it again.’
She half-expected him to storm away again, but instead he slowly shook his head. ‘Don’t be. You weren’t to know.’ His eyes grew misty as he gazed at the serene face in the picture. ‘Her name was Georgia,’ he told her and she held her breath. ‘She came from a very good family and they weren’t altogether thrilled when she took up with me. I think they had set their sights higher for her. But you know what it’s like when you fall in love. We would have eaten beans just so long as we could be together. As it turned out, she would have been better to listen to them. If she had, she’d still be alive.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Maggie whispered, and without thinking, she reached out and gently took his hand. It was the first physical contact they’d had and she was surprised when his large fingers curled around her smaller ones. A tear squeezed out of the corner of his good eye and she suddenly had the urge to wipe it away. She controlled the feeling and feeling strangely embarrassed, slid her fingers from his.
‘I think it’s about time we both had a break,’ she said, hoping to lighten the mood, and turning about, she hurried from the room.
It was much later that evening when she found her eyes drawn to the small easel in the corner again. ‘Did you do that painting too?’ she asked Eric.
The man gulped as he struggled to find the right words.
‘Actually, no, I didn’t. Danny did it. He has a real flair for art, as you’re probably aware. It was meant to be his Christmas present to you. I promised him I’d get it framed for you when it was finished.’
‘Oh!’ Suddenly, Maggie couldn’t hold back her pent-up emotions for another second and a strangled sob escaped her as she bent her head into her hands.
Eric was beside her in a trice and gathered her into his arms. ‘Please, Maggie, don’t cry,’ he soothed as he rocked her back and forth. ‘Danny will be all right, and so will Lizzie. You’ll see.’
The time was ticking away and Maggie wasn’t so sure now.
‘Please, can I come with you when you go out searching tomorrow?’ she pleaded through her sobs. ‘I feel as if I shall go mad if I have to sit here waiting for news for another single day.’
He suddenly realised how selfish he had been, leaving her alone for hour after hour. He’d thought he was saving her from having to tramp through the bitterly cold drifts, but now he understood her need to be involved in the search for her children.
‘Of course you can, if that’s what you want,’ he promised. ‘We’ll start to look for them again first thing tomorrow.’
Sighing, she nestled back into his arms, enjoying the comforting warmth of another human being.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Maggie was up at first light and wrapped for outdoors by the time Eric put in an appearance.
‘You’re an early worm,’ he remarked as he crossed to the teapot on the table.
‘Well, you know what they say. The early bird catches the worm,’ she smiled. She felt much better today, now that she was finally going to be allowed to join in the search. Sensing her need to be doing something constructive, Eric gulped a cup of tea down and hastily got ready.
Within minutes they were on their way down the hillside. Thankfully there had been no fresh snowfalls for two days, but the snow that remained was hardpacked and frozen, making it treacherous underfoot. More than once, Maggie would have gone headfirst, had Eric not caught her, but she ploughed on regardless.
The village was just coming to life when they turned onto the road that led through it and Maggie saw a small pasty-faced boy leaning against a lamppost.
She smiled at him as they went to walk past and he suddenly asked, ‘Are you Danny’s mam?’
Maggie paused. ‘Yes, I am,’ she told him solemnly. ‘Do you know him?’
‘Course I do,’ he retorted. ‘E’s me mate. Me name’s Sparky.’
‘How do you do, Sparky. Danny mentioned you in his letters.’ As a thought occurred to her she asked hopefully, ‘
You
don’t happen to know where he is, do you?’
‘Nah,’ Sparky wheezed, and she was troubled to see the blue tinge that had settled around his lips.
‘Oh . . . Well, thanks anyway.’ Masking her disappointment, she was just about to move on when Sparky piped up, ‘I know where Lizzie is though.’
Maggie gripped tight to Eric’s arm as she gazed at him incredulously, hardly daring to believe her ears. ‘Are you quite sure?’
He nodded as he pulled himself away from the lamppost. ‘I could take yer to ’er if yer liked. But I warn yer, it’s a long way ter go.’
Hardly daring to believe him, she stared at Eric. By now, a few of the village men had emerged from their homes to start the search for Lizzie, just as they had every single day since she had disappeared.
One of them shook his head doubtfully. ‘You’re not at your best, Sparky. Perhaps it would be easier if you just
told
us where she is.’
Sparky shrugged. ‘I can’t tell yer the way, I can only show yer. An’ I’ll be all right, ’onest I will.’
The police officer who had visited
Tremarfon
earlier in the week had also joined them by now and he took control of the situation immediately.
‘Very well. If the lad says he’s all right to lead us, we have to take his word for it.’
One of the village men leaned towards him and whispered, ‘Sparky isn’t all the ticket, you know. He could be dragging us all off on a wild-goose chase.’
‘You’re quite right,’ the policeman answered coolly. ‘But do you want to take the risk of
not
checking it out?’
‘I suppose not,’ the small, grey-haired man muttered.
With Sparky leading, the procession began to wend its way through the village. Maggie’s heart was pounding so loudly against her ribcage that she was sure the others must be able to hear it. With every step she took, she breathed a silent prayer that they would find her daughter safe and well, but she couldn’t rid herself of a terrible sense of foreboding. If what she had heard was true, then Blodwyn Evans had lost her mind and could be capable of anything.
Going up the mountainside was a steep climb and extremely slippery, and before long, Sparky was gasping for breath though he kept going gamely on. The air seemed to get thinner the higher they went, and soon the whole of the silent party was puffing and panting, Sparky most of all.
On a few occasions Maggie found herself looking at him and thinking, What if he collapses before he shows us where Lizzie is? Then she chided herself for having such selfish thoughts. To the right of them was a sheer drop to the deserted beach below, where waves pounded relentlessly onto the shore.
The peak of the hill was shrouded in a thick mist, and Maggie began to fear that they would never reach the top of it. But then, just as she was beginning to despair, Sparky turned away from the steep drop and began to walk in the opposite direction. Maggie had the awful feeling that perhaps he didn’t know where Lizzie was, after all. How could he, when everywhere looked the same in the snow? Nevertheless, she followed him, very aware that his steps were slowing and his breath was coming in harsh, painful gasps. He suddenly stopped dead and clutched at his side, as his shaking finger pointed to the left of him.
‘You’ll find some old miners’ cottages a bit further on. Lizzie is in one o’ them,’ he wheezed.
Eric and some of the villagers began to hurry on whilst Maggie paused to look at Sparky with concern. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked as he sank to the ground.
He nodded weakly. ‘I’m fine, missus. Now you get off an’ find Lizzie, eh?’
Maggie felt torn between anxiety for the brave lad and her need to find Lizzie, but thankfully one of the village men solved her problem.
‘I’ll stay here with the little one,’ he said kindly. ‘You go and see if your girl is where he says she is.’
Maggie took off as if she had wings on her heels and in no time at all had caught the rest of the party up.
‘There they are!’ someone suddenly shouted, and sure enough, as Maggie peered into the mist, a row of near-derelict cottages came into view.
The policeman who had accompanied them flapped his hands at them and they all drew to a halt. ‘Now,’ he said quietly, ‘we need to do this properly.’ Leaning towards Eric, he whispered, ‘If Blodwyn and Lizzie
are
here and Blodwyn hears us coming, there’s no telling what she might do in the state of mind she’s in.’ Turning to the small party he instructed, ‘You, Bill, and you, Owen, go around the back. Eric, you come with me to the front, and the rest of you keep your eyes open.’
Silently, they began to steal forward, their footsteps making no sound on the soft blanket of virgin snow. As they drew closer, they saw a small wisp of smoke rising from one of the chimneys and the policeman put his finger to his lips, demanding total silence. With her heart in her mouth, Maggie crept on, keeping as close to Eric as she could. As they approached one of the few remaining doors left intact, the policeman pointed down and they saw some fresh footsteps in the snow.
Taking his truncheon from his belt, the policeman pulled himself to his full height and then after taking a deep breath, he shouted, ‘NOW!’
Plunging forward, he pushed hard on the door, sending it crashing back onto the wall behind it. An overpowering smell of damp and urine met them as they stormed into the room, but at first glance it seemed to be deserted. There was a small fire burning in the fireplace but nothing else except for a small suitcase and a bundle of old rags in a far corner.
Maggie felt tears of despair well in her eyes. But then she thought she saw the bundle of rags move. Even as she watched, a small, bewildered face appeared and she uttered a cry of relief. ‘
LIZZIE!
’
In seconds she had covered the distance between them and snatched the child into her arms as she covered her with kisses.
Eric felt a lump form in his throat as he offered up a silent prayer of thanks.
‘Mammy . . . is that you?’ Lizzie hardly dared believe it as she looked up at the face she had been longing to see.
It was as they were all standing there that a shadow suddenly appeared in the doorway. Blodwyn Evans, her arms full of twigs that she had dug out of the snow, was staring disbelievingly at them.
‘What do you want?’
she screeched as she saw Lizzie cradled in her mother’s arms. ‘Go away, the lot of you, and leave me and my Megan in peace, can’t you? Megan - come to me,
bach
.’
When the child cowered closer against her mother, Blodwyn’s face fell and the policeman took a step towards her. ‘Now Blodwyn, calm down,’ he whispered soothingly. ‘This is
not
your Megan. It’s Lizzie Bright and her mother is here to take her home. You come with me now. I can get you some help.’
Dropping the twigs, she slapped his hand away as he held it out towards her. Then she began to back out of the door, her eyes shining with madness. ‘I know where you want to take me,’ she screamed accusingly. ‘You want to lock me up in the madhouse as you tried to, many years ago. But I won’t come with you. Do you hear me?’ Turning, she began to run across the frozen ground with surprising speed. The policeman started after her, his heart in his mouth as he saw that she was heading directly for the cliff edge.
‘Blodwyn,
stop
!’ he bellowed as he became aware of her intentions, but it was too late. She disappeared into the mist and seconds later, they all heard a bloodcurdling scream. When he arrived at the edge of the cliff seconds later, he warily peered over, and there, far below him, was the big woman’s broken body, lying on the rocks. Even as he watched, the waves came in and snatched at her body and when next he looked, she had been sucked out to sea.
It was a sombre procession that wove its way back down to the village. One of the men carried Sparky, who was struggling for breath, whilst Eric carried Lizzie close to his chest, and Maggie clung on to her hand as if she were afraid to let her go.
As soon as the cottages of Sarn-Bach came into sight, one of the men ran for the doctor to see to Sparky.
Outside his home, Maggie kissed his sweating brow tenderly. ‘Thank you, Sparky,’ she whispered and he smiled weakly back at her. She turned to leave but then paused and asked him, ‘What made you decide to tell us where she was?’
‘Soho Gus came to me while I were in bed last night an’ told me to,’ he panted.
Maggie looked at Eric in confusion. ‘Isn’t Soho Gus the little boy that ran away with Danny?’