Facing the World by Grace Thompson Read Free Book Online

our house,’ Valmai complained to Netta. ‘I’m determined we’ll get one and Gwilym is insisting that we can’t afford it and he isn’t sure he’d work in it if we did. I point out a solution to every problem he comes up with and I’m talking to myself! Oh, Netta, why is he so defeatist?’
    ‘Pride. Must be. After all, he was a cross-country runner, he coached the local under elevens rugby team, cricket in the summer. To have to give up all that is bound to have changed the poor man.’
    ‘The rugby team would still like him to help but he won’t passthrough our gate. What do I have to do to make him face the world? He’s done nothing wrong yet he’s acting like a—’
    ‘A criminal? Like your Rhys but with even less reason? They both faced trouble but dealt with it in opposite ways. Gwilym won’t move and Rhys moved too far! They both gave up. Heard anything from your Rhys?’
    Valmai shook her head. ‘There’s a card occasionally, usually from somewhere up north. Blackpool, North Wales, even Scotland.’
    ‘Walking was his favourite pastime like his father, so perhaps he’s just wandering.’
    ‘If only he’d come home. The police haven’t anything on him. They wanted to question him but he wasn’t a suspect, yet he ran off before they could interview him. If they’d really wanted to talk to him you can’t tell me they wouldn’t have found him. They aren’t stupid. But,’ she added sadly, ‘perhaps my son is.’
    ‘There might have been some other reason he chose to leave, nothing to do with the robberies.’ Netta was thinking of Sally, left to face the criticisms and bring up her baby on her own. Nothing had been said, but she’d always believed Rhys was the father of two-year-old Sadie. ‘Good heavens, Valmai, I’ve just realized it’s more than two years since he left.’ Pointedly she added, ‘Little Sadie was two a week or so back. Doesn’t time fly?’
    Valmai didn’t reply.
    When Netta went inside, Walter said, ‘Still making excuses for that son of theirs, is she? Leaving that girl to cope alone. What sort of a man does that?’
    ‘Not much better yourself,’ Netta retorted. ‘Leaving me to keep the family fed. Lazy you are, Walter Prosser. Time you got up and shifted yourself. Plenty of work out there for those who want it.’
    ‘I’ve tried. There’s nothing for me and you know it.’
    ‘I know nothing of the sort. Idle, useless waste of breath you are.’
    The argument went on and young Jimmy approached the house with his heart racing, aware that it could go on for a long time. He covered his ears and ran back along the path and out into the street.
    Valmai was setting off for work and she called to him. ‘Go in and have a piece of cake with Gwilym, why don’t you?’
    His footsteps slowed. ‘Rowing again, they are,’ he said. ‘I hate it when they row. I’m invisible when they row.’ 
    Valmai went back with him and had a quick word with Gwilym, who asked the boy if he fancied a bit of toast. Jimmy stayed until the shouting had subsided then went home. He picked up a chunk of bread, an apple and some crisps and went back out.
    Jimmy spent a lot of time out of the house. He wandered around the fields south of Mill Road and spent a lot of time watching the activities around the stream that had once fed the huge wheel of the watermill. He took bread and an apple from his pocket and ate, throwing the crusts where the ducks would find them. Aimlessly strolling through the fields, he joined the main road not far from the Waterstones’ house, where he sat on the wall and watched as men went in and out with discarded bricks, old and new wood. A few of the men stopped to talk to him, and one gave him a couple of sweets from his pocket.
    Amy appeared at the window and she banged on the pane and made movements clearly telling him to go away. Pretending not to understand, he waved back cheerily. The front door opened and she came running out, flapping her arms as