Mrs Wilkes stood outside the post office as we passed through the centre of the village, waiting on her daily sources of gossip and intrigue. When she spotted us, she came rushing over, a wide grin across her face, and when neither of us acknowledged her approach, she stepped into our path to stop us in our tracks.
“Prynhawn da, gentlemen,” she said as she cast her eyes between us. She was twirling a black parasol over her right shoulder, though there was neither sun nor rain that she needed shielding from. “That was some nasty business at the pub, wasn’t it? I could barely believe my eyes when I looked out of my window and saw the constable dragging you off.”
She emphasised the last few words as an elderly couple walked past us on the pavement, causing both of them to cast us disapproving glances and Mrs Wilkes’ smile to widen.
“Just a misunderstanding, Rachel,” Gwyn said, and his use of her first name caused her smile to dim somewhat.
“Hmm, quite,” she replied, arching her eyebrows as though she knew better. “I do hope Constable Morgan wasn’t injured. I heard there was quite a scuffle.”
“And I’m sure you’ve wasted no time in telling everyone as much,” Gwyn shot back. His patience was wearing thin and I pulled on his arm to get him to move on.
“Was there anything in particular you wanted, Mrs Wilkes?” I asked.
“Just being neighbourly,” she responded, her smile now back to maximum. “Do have a good day, gentlemen.”
She held an arm out to allow us to pass and then scurried down the pavement to find her next victim as we headed up to the farm.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” I said to Gwyn as we reached the front gate. I stared up at the house and the small hill I would have to climb to reach it. Once again, I’d brought embarrassment to the Hopkin’s and I was dreading their reaction when I returned home.
“I’m going to walk you to the house,” he said, pushing through the gate and holding it open for me.
“I can make the last few steps on my own,” I said. “You should go get some rest.”
His gorgeous smile spread across his face and he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “But I can’t kiss you goodbye out here, can I?”
When we approached the side of the house, I noticed the barn door was swinging in the wind and I walked over to push it shut. As I did so, I saw the latch had been broken, apparently forced from its hinge. I peered my head inside but there was no sign of anyone in there.
“That’s odd,” Gwyn said, examining the latch.
“The ring!” I whispered, remembering my stash on the top floor of the barn. I burst through the door and ran for the ladder. I climbed as fast as I could, careless in my ascent, and my feet slipped on the rungs as I went. When I reached the top I scrambled through the hatch and across the makeshift bed to the cubby I had made to hide my belongings. My heart raced as I pulled the sheets back and looked inside.
It was empty. Both my ring and my wallet were gone.
“Where is it?” I shouted as I tore through sheets and hay, hoping to find it among the debris that I was leaving behind. Gwyn came up beside me and began to help me look. When it was nowhere to be found I slumped down and threw my head into my hands.
“It’s him. It’s got to be.” Gwyn looked at me and I knew he was thinking the same thing. “Arthur’s got the ring.”