Borrowed Time - Page 22

“I hope you feel better soon, Gwyn,” I said as I reached for the door.

“Already do,” he replied, and I made my exit, leaving him to rest.

“Grab that dolly,” Mair said as I re-entered the living room. I looked around, bewildered, with no idea what she was talking about. “The stick,” she said impatiently, pointing to an item that looked like a miniature stool attached to a broom handle. She proceeded to give me a lesson on how to do laundry. When she was done she took the clothes outside and squeezed them through a contraption of rolling pins and then brought them back in and hung them up around the room to dry.

“Can’t I just bring them to you every time?” I said with a cheeky grin as we hung the last of the items.

“Don’t even think about it,'' she replied, throwing a peg at me. “Now, your suit is ready and you can take that with you. Gwyn won’t be coming in the morning, so you can escort me to the church. Be here first thing.”

We attended a total of fourteen funerals over the next two weeks. Most took place in the village but we also travelled together to Pisgah for the burial of Daniel and his father. With so much going on, discussions of my leaving still hadn’t been raised and I continued to sleep in the barn. The Hopkin’s didn’t seem in a rush to send me on my way, though, which worked out well for me because I still had nowhere to go.

I’d created a new routine of putting the ring on each night, twisting and turning it until I fell asleep in my sheets in the hay. Then each morning I’d wake up in the same spot and the disappointment would set in again. I’d even spent an evening with a bottle of Mr Hopkin’s whiskey thinking that perhaps I needed to be drunk for it to work but all I got for my efforts was a hangover. Whatever had made it work the first time wasn’t working anymore and I’d begun to lose hope.

A few days after the last miner’s funeral, a meeting was called at the church and it was decided that the harvest festival, which had been postponed due to the incident at the mine, was to be rescheduled as a low-key affair to raise spirits throughout the village. The fields had long since been cut and the church given their portion of produce for the season, but not wanting to miss the opportunity to take even more from the people, the vicar organised for the barn in the field adjoining the church to be decked out for a muted celebration.

Mrs Hopkin got straight to work planning, baking goods and organising the household with jobs. Mine was to help gather scrap wood and kindling along with two other men from the village to be built into a bonfire and I used the excuse to call to Mair’s house, which I’d found myself doing quite frequently since the disaster.

“Thomas! What a surprise,” she said with a roll of her eyes as I let myself into the cottage.

Despite her teasing, we’d grown quite close and it was at her insistence that I stopped knocking on arrival and just let myself in. I had a feeling, though, that she was just tired of getting up and down to answer the door to me all the time.

She had her head buried in a book at the table and I made my way through the clutter of her home to take a seat. “Good Housekeeping?” I asked and she looked at me confused. I knew immediately that she wouldn’t get the joke but I chuckled at the effort nonetheless.

“Holmes,” she said, shutting the book and setting it aside. “So, what bad luck have I brought on myself to receive this visit? I wasn’t expecting to see you until tonight.”

“I’m on a mission to find things to burn on the bonfire.” I looked around the room and back to her with a smirk. “Your living room was the first place I thought of.”

“And maybe we could sit you in the middle of it,” she replied with a slap to my hand. “I’m sure I’ve got something in the yard, let me go look. Make yourself useful and put some water on to boil.”

She disappeared through the door to the back of the house while I moved to the stove to prepare a pot. Mrs Hopkin would never let me anywhere near the stove at the farm but Mair made sure I learned quickly how she takes her tea and I’d gotten quite used to the slower way of doing it. I’d still have preferred to have a kettle and a teabag but the end result was much the same.

I’d only just poured the water from the jug when Gwyn called out from the bedroom, taking me by surprise. “Mair, allwch chi fy helpu?”

I set the pot over the heat and took the few steps to the bedroom door and poked my head in. “Oh shit,” I said, seeing him sitting in the tub. I quickly retreated and pulled the door closed. “Sorry, Gwyn. Mair’s out the back. I’ll go get her.”

“It’s ok,” he called back. “You’ll do. Come here.”

I took a deep breath and then edged back into the room keeping my eyes on the ceiling. “What’s up?” I asked, trying to be casual while he sat naked in the portable tin bath. It was like an elongated bucket with handles at each end that he barely seemed to fit in it. It certainly didn’t hold enough water to keep him covered.

“I can’t get out,” he said and I began to laugh. “I’m not stuck, you arse. It’s my ribs.” He flicked his hand through the water splashing me as I tried to duck out of the way. “Give me a hand.”

“I dunno, maybe I should just leave you there,” I joked.

“How could you be so cruel to a wounded man?” he said, pouting his lips at me. “Come on or I’ll waste away.”

I edged towards him and grabbed hold of his outstretched hand while trying to keep my eyes averted. He let out a sharp moan as I pulled him to his feet and in my fear that I’d hurt him I almost let go of his hand.

“Can you grab me the towel?”

“Are you ok?” I asked as I handed it to him. “It sounded like you were hurt.”

“It’s not so bad,” he said, twisting his body to me and showing off the bruise on his side with no shame or embarrassment about his state of undress. The bruise had shrunk but still looked fairly sore. “It hurt a lot less than when Mair tried helping me. What a performance that was. Walked in here backwards, she did. I ended up having to tip myself over the side and climb onto the bed just to get to my feet.”

I laughed again as I imagined the scene, though I felt a little bad for his struggle. “Well, I’m happy I could help. Do you need anything else?”

He stepped out of the tub and ran the towel over his hair leaving a puddle of water at his feet. “I’ll shout if I do,” he said with a smirk, and I turned for the door.

I pulled his bedroom door shut and leaned up against it, closing my eyes and letting out a long breath. If it weren't for the sounds of Mair shuffling around outside I may have just stayed there and let my mind run wild but I turned back to the fire instead to prepare the tea.

Tags: Russell Dean Romance
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