Borrowed Time - Page 23

I stared around the room while I waited for her return and had an overwhelming urge to start tidying up. The house wasn’t dirty by any means but the clutter that covered every surface and every inch of floor space made my skin itch and I wanted nothing more than to get it all organised and ordered. My compulsion was only quelled when she barged back through the door with her arms filled with a pile of wood so high that I couldn’t see her face over the top of it.

“Do you think this will do?” she called from behind the stack. “I’m not helping you carry it down there, mind.”

“It’s more than enough,” I said, relieving her of the pile. “I think I’ll skip the tea though, and get this moved now if that’s alright? You’re both coming later?”

“Aye, we’ll be there,” she replied.

“You’re not cooking, are you?” I asked with a wink as I headed for the door.

“Get going,” she shouted after me, “before you get one of those boards across your backside.”

Work on the bonfire had begun in earnest and within an hour I’d managed to build it over eight feet tall and nearly as wide. My fellow wood gatherers, Jenkin and Robert, had dropped their hauls off and then sat on the grass refusing to speak in English so I’d roped in Sophia to come down and help me complete it.

“I thought it would be taller,” she said in her usual direct manner as she squinted up at it from beside me.

“I can’t get up any higher,” I replied.

She hitched her skirts up and began stomping towards the pyre. “Well, I can.”

I grabbed her by the shoulders to pull her back and she let out a huff. “I don’t think your mother would be too happy to have you climbing over that.”

“No, I would not,” Mrs Hopkin said as she came up beside us with a tray of small loaves. People from the village had already started to gather in the barn, decorating it with ribbons and figures made of straw and tables had been set up inside for the food, most of which seemed to be coming from the Hopkin’s pantry.

“I can do it,” Sophia protested. “Howell climbs on things all the time and he’s rubbish. Please, Mam?”

Mrs Hopkin’s eyes went wide and a single stare at her daughter brought her to silence. “I wish I’d had more notice,” she said, holding up her tray to me. “I haven’t made nearly as much as I’d have liked.”

Teddy and Betty walked by with another two trays of food and I raised an eyebrow to Mrs Hopkin. She shifted uncomfortably and stared down at the loaves. “I better get these set down before Mrs Greenslade takes up the whole table with her apple pies. She will insist on showing off. You two stay out of trouble.”

I looked down at Sophia who gave me a mischievous grin as her mother walked off towards the barn. “I could do it, you know,” she said. “Climbing isn't just for boys.”

“And neither is tag,” I said, and I pushed her onto the grass and ran off into the field. In an instant she was on her feet and chasing behind me, laughing wildly. I sprinted through the grass weaving in and out of the villagers on their way to the barn before coming to a stop just seconds before a head-on collision with Arthur Morgan.

I stood straight, keeping my eyes on him as he stared at me with a smirk across his face. A second later Sophia ran behind me and whacked me in the back making me shuffle forward another step, almost colliding with him. He immediately reached up and put his hands roughly on my chest and said something in Welsh causing Sophia’s mouth to drop open.

“That’s a horrible thing to say,” she said, grabbing hold of my hand as though to protect me. “Say sorry, right now.”

He looked down at her with a snarl. “Run along, little girl,” he said, and she stepped forward and kicked him hard in the shin.

He raised the back of his hand to her and I pulled her behind me, stepping forward again into the path of his swing but he pulled back before it connected.

“Hitting little girls? Is that what you do? Such a big man.”

“Maybe I should hit you again,” he said, and the smug look on his face made me want to hit him back right there in front of everyone. He let out a nasally snort and took a step to the side but turned to face me as he walked off into the field. “I’m sure I’ll get another chance soon enough.”

“I probably shouldn’t have kicked him,” Sophia said as we watched him walk off.

“Probably not,” I replied. “But well done, anyway.” I smiled at her and she let go of my hand and scampered off into the field.

Wanting to avoid an altercation I decided to steer clear of the barn for a while and I leaned against the open gate and watched the last of the villagers coming down the lane. The sun had already gone down beyond the hill casting a blueish-grey shade over the village as the evening set in and some of them were carrying lamps to light their way. Amongst the many faces, I noticed Nellie and her fiancé heading toward me and I reached out to give them a wave.

I’d had a chance to briefly meet Gethin over the previous few weeks but each time I saw him we were at a funeral which had left little option for us to become properly acquainted. He seemed a nice chap, and totally smitten with Nellie, but there was an aloofness to him that made me wonder if he perhaps found himself a little out of his depth in the village and on the farm. It was something that I could identify with and, short on friends, I hoped it might be something we might find we had in common.

“Waiting for someone?” Nellie asked as they approached.

“Just watching the world go by,” I replied.

Gethin held a hand out to me, which I shook, envious of the fact he’d worn gloves as I stood there freezing in the chilly Autumn air. “You look cold, old boy,” he said. “Come, we’ll find some seats close to the fire ready for when they light it.”

Tags: Russell Dean Romance
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