The Woman at the Window by Emyr Humphreys Read Free Book Online Page B

Glenys had always been cheery and cheerful. Always a breath of fresh air and the spirit of youth and freedom. Life-giving in fact. But this was different. How could he adjust himself to her humour? 
    â€˜Go on then,’ she said. ‘Take it. Call it the bride price or whatever. We came all this way to give it to you. And look at you once again.’
    He glanced down at the cheque in his hand. It was for a hundred thousand pounds.
    â€˜I couldn’t possibly…’
    â€˜Of course you can. Take it. I’ve got more than I’ll ever need. Think of it as the cost of my education in Switzerland.’
    â€˜But you paid that back.’
    He sounded cross as he said it.
    â€˜My mother said you paid it all back.
    â€˜And did she tell you she also paid for my abortion? A cunning old woman your mother. God rest her soul.’
    â€˜An abortion? But we never…’
    â€˜Fucked you mean. You were always such a straight-laced romantic. Poor old Henry. At this late stage at least we can afford to be honest.’
    Henry closed his eyes. Her voice was relentless. 
    â€˜No. The culprit was your favourite. The head boy. Gwyn
    Alun. He said you made me ripe for the plucking. He was a cheeky bastard. He assured me it was perfectly safe. I was fool enough to believe him. I was always incurably curious. And of course it was nothing like it was cracked up to be. And the pill was in its infancy if that is the appropriate expression.’
    She was much amused. Monique was paying her the closest attention, whether she understood what was being said or not. Her dark eyes showed concern for Glenys’ condition.
    â€˜You take that cheque Henry and don’t you dare tear it up after I’ve come all this way to give it to you. Footballers earn that in a week. If you don’t want it, give it to some worthy Welsh cause or other. As I remember there were always an awful lot of them.’
    Monique murmured Glenys’ name. It sounded like an incantation.
    â€˜She thinks it’s time for us to leave. She knows about these things. She’s an absolute wizard at finding her way in this wicked world. Berber blood no doubt.’
    Glenys was laughing again. Henry looked so defenceless and aghast.
    â€˜We’d better get moving.’ ‘Let me come with you!’
    Henry had reached a sudden decision and was pleading with her.
    â€˜Let me come with you. Look after you. Be with you. That’s all I ask.’
    â€˜Dear Henry. A romantic to the very end. You can come and see us off if you like. But we’ve had enough of men, haven’t we Monique? Life is so much more comfortable without them. Don’t take that personally. You were one of the best. Handsome and so well behaved. From here on we do without men. Isn’t that right, Monique?’
    Much saddened and subdued Henry accompanied the wheelchair to the boarding gate. Glenys made another joke about returning to Switzerland for further education and medication. Henry was unable to smile.Was reality so harsh and rough edged that a man was driven to take refuge in illusions and daydreams and wishful thinking? Was he obliged to cope with this bitter situation on his own? As they passed out of sight, his fingers strayed to the folded piece of paper in his waistcoat pocket.

The Comet

THE first thing that happened was the fax. This was in the days before you could ‘kiss your fax goodbye’. In a modest finca on a rocky northern slope of the enchanted island, where tourists were least likely to wander, the fax machine was the acme of modernity, the link with the outside world. Hefin had taken the dogs down the pine forest for one of his inspirational walks. There was the black mongrel bitch, Lollie, long past her reproductive stage but still very lively. Hefin called her the flying hearth rug. And there was Larry, the large amiable husky whose one weakness was chasing sheep. Gisella was hard at work translating the