“Well, that’s his name,” she replied. “We named him after his father but we called him Jack all his life. Nobody ever called him John.”
“I really am sorry,” I said again. “If I had any idea, I would have told you sooner.” I justified my lie by telling myself I was doing something good for them and that at least now they wouldn’t be worried that he was lying in a ditch dead somewhere.
“At least we know they’re safe and together,” Mrs Hopkin said, turning to her husband and forcing a smile. “At least we know that.”
Mr Hopkin, who had remained quiet throughout while he considered my every word, suddenly bolted up from this seat. My initial fear was that he was about to tackle me to the ground but he instead slammed his fist into the table causing a teacup to bounce from the force and shatter on the floor.
“I bloody knew it,” he bellowed. He grabbed for his hat and marched to the back door. “I’m going to wring his bloody neck when I catch hold of him.”
As I turned back to face Mrs Hopkin I spotted Teddy hiding behind the door to the sitting room, listening in on the commotion. When he caught my eye he darted off towards the stairs.
“Where will he go?” I asked.
“To the pub most likely until he’s calmed down.”
“I should go and get my things,” I said, getting up from my chair.
“You’ll do no such thing,” she said sternly. “Sit yourself down.”
She opened the stove and took out a plate of leftover bread slices and put it down in front of me then fetched a broom from the pantry and began sweeping up the broken cup, making quick work of the mess on the floor.
“Will Mr Hopkin be ok?” I asked as I picked at the bread. She eased herself down opposite me, clinging to the broom as though it might try to escape.
“You won’t meet two men more alike than Jack and his father,” she began. “You might have noticed that Mr Hopkin can be stubborn and set in his ways, well Jack is exactly the same. Every day with them two you can feel a storm brewing, neither of them willing to budge. John wanted Jack to work the farm with him but he’d no interest in fieldwork. Never did. One day after a row in the pens Jack marched right down to Rhodri Thomas and got himself a job working the printers. He was in his element, but it sent his father grey. We needed him on the farm, see, I won’t lie to you, but Jack needed to find out who he was on his own and John could never see it. Said duty comes before desire and threatened to put him out on the streets, but I wouldn’t have had that and he’d have never done it. He just couldn’t see why Jack wouldn’t put the family and the farm first like he’d had to. Grandad Hopkin was exactly the same. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”
I listened intently as she spoke and thought of my father and how he’d raised us. It seemed unthinkable that he’d fought so hard against what was expected of him only to rule over Lee and me with the same rod. We’d grown up having it drummed into us that we’d continue with the business and our happiness about that wasn’t part of the equation. As far as apples falling far from trees went, my father wasn’t all that different from his own.
“And what about the girl?” I asked. I remembered the name ‘Ellie’ had been scribbled on my father's papers. Elinor, perhaps? If it was the same woman then perhaps he’d tried coming back to the village or looking her up.
“Jack and Elinor were sweethearts but his father wouldn’t allow them to court. Mr Hopkin and Elinor’s father fell out about two years back, really nasty it was, and he wouldn’t hear of it. As far as I know, Elinor’s father felt the same way and the next we heard she was engaged to Arthur Morgan. He’d always had eyes for her and he hated our Jack.
“We all knew that Jack and Elinor used to sneak off together but Jack always denied it when his father asked. I suppose they’d rather run off and leave us all behind than be parted. Despite his bluster, John blames himself. Thinks if he’d just done things differently, he’d be able to build bridges. And on top of that, he thinks I blame him too.”
“Do you?” I asked without thinking.
“Jack is a smart boy,” she said, not answering my question. “He knows his mind and he knows how to mind himself. He’ll be ok, and he’ll be back soon enough once the real world sets in, just you mark my words.”
She seemed to have contented herself with the idea that he was safe and would come home when he was ready, which only made it sadder that I knew she would likely never see him again.
Figuring that it was my best shot to gather information, I decided to probe a little further. “I noticed the ring Jack was wearing in the picture,” I said, trying to remain cool. “That’s how I was sure it was him. He was wearing it when we met. Is it a family heirloom?”
“I should be so lucky,” she said, laughing at my question.
“Oh? So where did it come from?” I was trying not to sound too keen, but she was happy to talk and didn’t seem suspicious of my asking.
“Well, I only know what I’ve been told, but years ago before they fell out, John and Mr Lewis were fishing down near Devil’s Bridge when they found an old man unconscious beside the river. They brought him around and gave him tea and by way of thanks, he gave them a pouch with a red gemstone inside. If you ask me, it was just some fancy glass, but they wouldn’t hear of it. Thought they knew better, see. They squabbled and argued over who should have it and what it might be worth until they were barely talking to each other anymore except to argue over that bloody stone.
“Before long everyone had had enough of the bickering. They confided in Billy Cotter, God rest his soul, who took the stone until they could sort out their differences and decide who should have it. Thinking he was helping, Mr Cotter cut the stone in two. He set one into a ring and gave it to John, and the other into a necklace and gave it to Mr Lewis, but rather than thank the poor man it just caused even more arguments. Billy died just a few days later and they still couldn't put their differences behind them, but with no stone to argue over they just refused to speak to each other anymore and haven’t since.”
My ears pricked up at the news of the necklace. If there was another stone then perhaps it would give me more of a chance of getting home. I’d just need to get my hands on it to try.
“So, where’s the necklace now?”
“I’d imagine it’s still around the neck of Elinor Lewis, where it’s been since it was made.” Her words made my heart sink. She raised herself from the table and made her way to the stove, putting some water on to boil. “But I’m telling you now, it’s not worth the money it cost Billy Cotter to set them. It’s a shiny bit of junk and it’s been nothing but trouble since the day it was found.”
My head was spinning from the revelations laid out by Mrs Hopkin. If Elinor was wearing the stone when she disappeared then did she make it to the future with my father? Was she the woman in Brighton that he spoke of in his diary? Even if the stone was worth nothing there was certainly something powerful about it. Did Elinor and my father know what it could do? Did they plan it? My ending up here was random, but did it have to be? Was there a way to make it work at will? I suddenly had so many questions that I had no answers to.
“What's Devil's Bridge?” I asked as Mrs Hopkin set out some cups at the table, settling on a question she’d be able to answer. Maybe I could go there to find the stranger who offloaded the stone.