Chapter 12

MRS GRIFFITHS SHUT the door firmly and turned to her guest. ‘You mustn’t mind my son-in-law; he obviously adores those children and is deeply ashamed that it was a total stranger – yourself – who helped them when they were in need. He hasn’t been here long, but he’s been a tower of strength in that time. Even though he was worried sick that harm might come to Jimmy and Maureen he did everything he could to make our life easier. What’s more, he promised he would stay here and work to bring Weathercock Farm back to the condition it was in when he took our Grace away. He’s no farmer, but he put his mind to learning our ways and how he could be most useful, and if he left tomorrow we would miss him sorely. Years ago he was impetuous and hot-tempered, but he’s learning to control himself. Unfortunately, he may find it harder to overcome his tendency to jealousy. He has been both rude and ungrateful to you but believe me, give him a few hours to think over his behaviour and he’ll be apologising and begging for forgiveness.’ She went to the pantry and came back with some rashers of bacon. ‘I’ll deal with this whilst you lay the table; you’ll find cutlery in the dresser drawer and crockery on the dresser itself.’ She walked over to the window and peered out into the farmyard. ‘It’ll be a full moon tonight,’ she remarked conversationally. ‘At this time of year that usually means a hard frost. Now tell me, Miss Trent, just how do you intend to trace your family? Trent isn’t a Welsh name, so there must be another reason that makes you think you might find them in Wales.’

For a moment Glenys was tempted to tell this friendly, easy-going woman just how fragile that reason would seem to be, but pride forbade such a move. Since she left the orphanage she had never told a soul, not even the children, how very alone she felt, and how pathetic would be any attempt to find the woman who had given birth to her. All the matron of the orphanage had been able to tell her was that she had been left on the housewife’s doorstep in a cardboard box which had once contained apples. And what did it matter anyway, Glenys thought. But Mrs Griffiths was looking at her with raised brows. ‘How do you intend to trace your family?’ she repeated.

Glenys shrugged. ‘I don’t. I meant nothing to them, which is why I have such a strong fellow feeling for your grandchildren,’ she said rather stiffly. ‘But I have no wish to come between your son-in-law and his children, and because of his attitude I’m afraid that might happen if I was here long. So tomorrow I shall get on the train for Rhyl and hope that either there, or further along the coast at Llandudno, I may find employment of a sort which will suit me. Of course, if I’m only a matter of twenty or thirty miles from Weathercock Farm I should very much like to visit from time to time . . .’ she gave her hostess a sudden, rather twisted smile, ‘when your son-in-law is not around, that is.’ She smiled again. ‘I can see you are about to protest, but let there be honesty between us. You say he has a jealous nature; well, I have a certain amount of pride, and don’t mean to put the children in the position of having to choose between us. Naturally they would choose him, but even so they may still retain affection for me, so it’s best that we part. Don’t tell them, please, but when they come down to Mrs Buttermilk’s house tomorrow I shall be long gone.’