Borrowed Time - Page 21

Seven

In the aftermath of the disaster there was a quiet over Cwm Newydd. The days had brought constant rain, the grey skies the perfect backdrop to the mood of the people mourning their loved ones. In the village, people went about their business in silence, nobody quite knowing what to say to anybody else and it seemed even the birds had dimmed their song in quiet respect.

Having no mourning attire, and no money to buy suitable clothing, Mair had insisted on lending me more of her brother’s clothes and I had summoned me to the cottage to collect them.

When I arrived, she had set aside some space in her front room for a large barrel that she’d filled with steaming water, and was ready in her aprons.

“What’s this about?” I asked, confused.

“I mean it in the nicest way possible, Tom, but you smell. Have you changed those clothes since I gave them to you?”

I brought my arm up to my face and took a sniff. She was right and I was mortified. Mrs Hopkin had given me one of Jack’s old shirts when mine got covered in blood but otherwise, I’d spent four days in the same clothes. I didn’t like to ask Mrs Hopkin to wash them and had no idea how to do it for myself without a washing machine.

“Straight in there to change. “I’ve laid some clothes out ready for you.”

I manoeuvred around the clutter of the living room and entered the room that I’d changed in when I first met Mair. All was as it was before, except this time the bed was occupied.

“Making a habit of taking my clothes,” Gwyn said, smiling at me from the bed as I entered. I’d completely forgotten he would be there so his presence in the room took me by surprise.”

“Gwyn, how are you feeling?” I asked.

“Sore,” he said, pulling back the blanket to show me the bruising on his ribs. It had turned from red to a blueish purple.

“Make sure your sister looks after you,” I said.

“Seems like she’s looking after the both of us.” He nodded towards the pile of clothes Mair had left on the dresser for me and I followed his gaze. “Airing out my best funeral suit for you too, she is. You must be her new favourite. She does love having someone to fuss over.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling bad about having to commandeer his wardrobe again. “I don’t have anything else to wear and she insisted.”

“It’s fine,” he replied. “I won’t be needing them anyway. They’re all yours.”

Feeling a little embarrassed for having to change into his clothes while he was right there, I turned my back to the bed and began to undress. When the silence became unbearable I tried to make small talk.

“Has the doctor been to see you yet?” I asked as I unbuttoned the shirt Mrs Hopkin had given me and dropped it to the floor. I could see his reflection in the mirror that hung from the back of the door, looking at me as we spoke.

“Not yet, but I don’t think we will call on him. Nellie said there isn’t much we can do for a cracked rib and we could do with saving the sixpence now I won’t be working.”

With no option for privacy, I dropped my trousers to the floor and stepped out of them.

“What the devil are those?” Gwyn suddenly shouted. “I’ve never seen drawers like it?”

I turned around unsure what he was referring to, to see him pointing back at my underwear. I hadn’t considered what my elasticated black boxer briefs might look like to someone who’d never seen such a garment.

“They’re, um,” I stuttered, “they’re a new style everyone is wearing in Cambridge. I guess they haven’t reached Wales yet?” I don’t think I sounded particularly convincing but it was the best excuse I could come up with.

“I should hope they never do,” he laughed, then winced from the pain it brought. “They can’t be at all comfortable, all tight like that.”

“They’re all I have,” I admitted with a shrug.

“Here, take some of mine from the second drawer, and for goodness sake don’t show them to my sister.”

I laughed as I rummaged through the drawer he’d directed me to for something more period-appropriate.

“And these are better?” I asked, turning to him and holding up what could best be described as knee-length bloomers.”

“Yes,” he said, as I turned away from him to put them on. “Much better.”

I quickly changed into the rest of the outfit Mair had set aside, which was nearly identical to the one that I had just removed, but with a slight colour difference, and scooped up the waistcoat, shirt and trousers that she intended to wash.

Tags: Russell Dean Romance
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