mind.’
‘His cousin, Emily Grenfell,’ Hari ignored her mother’s outburst, ‘she will prove he is innocent, you’ll see.’
Win Morgan looked at her daughter shrewdly. ‘You are falling in love with him!’ It was an accusation and, quickly, Hari shook her head.
‘Don’t be so soft, mam, he’s not one of us, I know that as well as you do.’
‘Aye, your head knows it but does your heart understand, Angharad?’ She sighed. ‘I don’t want you hurt, love, you know how much I love you even though I don’t always show it. Be sensible, send this man packing.’
‘Listen now, mam,’ Hari said briskly, avoiding her mother’s eyes, ‘we won’t talk any more about it just now. I’ve got us a nice bit of meat pie for supper and a lovely fresh bit of bread, I expect you’re starving.’
‘No good changing the subject,’ her mother said slowly, ‘don’t go doing anything daft, cariad , this man may be as innocent as you say but his kind use people like us, remember that.’
Hari sighed, ‘I’ll remember, mam.’ She moved to the door and glanced back, warming to her mother, it was not often she expressed affection or even concern, she was a hard woman who had lived a difficult life but now and then a little softness crept into Win Morgan’s eyes that betrayed the real woman beneath the stern exterior.
‘Don’t worry,’ Hari said, ‘I can look after myself, I’ve been taught well by my mam and dad.’
She hurried downstairs, the water in the bowl tipping a little on the bare treads. Hari was tired, she had worked all day and then walked over to the other side of town and back and now there was supper to get. Tears came to her eyes and, as she entered the kitchen, she stumbled a little.
Craig came to her side and relieved her of the bowl. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘Is your mother worse?’
Hari shook her head. ‘No, it’s nothing, I’m just so tired, that’s all.’
He led her to a chair. ‘You sit there and tell me what you want done, I’m not exactly helpless you know.’
‘The supper,’ Hari said, ‘there’s meat pie in the pantry and the bread has to be cut.’
Craig moved about the room lightly, he was surprisingly deft for a big man and as Hari watched him cut the bread into silly thin slices, she smiled.
‘We won’t save money the way you do things,’ she said softly, ‘thin bread takes extra butter, thick slices are more suitable.’
‘I see,’ Craig’s dark eyes were alight with humour, ‘give me time, I’ll learn how things should be done.’
He cut the pie and placed a slice on one of the earthenware plates on the table. ‘Here, have yours,’ he said, ‘perhaps with some food inside you you’ll feel better. You are far too thin.’
Hari shook her head. ‘I’ll take mam’s up first, then I can have mine in peace,’ she said.
When she returned to the kitchen, she sank down at the table and tried to eat a little of the food, conscious that Craig was watching her.
‘When my name is cleared,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘I’d like to set you up in better premises, supply you with as much leather as you need and get you an apprentice or two.’
She glanced at him sharply. ‘You don’t owe me anything,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I manage my life quite nicely on my own thanks.’
‘Don’t be so prickly.’ Craig leaned over the table towards her, his hands almost touching hers. Hari looked away.
‘You’ll soon forget this part of your life,’ she said to him, ‘it will be like a bad dream.’
‘Not all of it.’ His hand rested on hers, ‘You are a wonderful woman, Hari Morgan, and I won’t forget you, don’t you worry.’
Hari looked into his dark eyes, they seemed to hold her mesmerized as he leaned closer, his mouth only inches from her own.
Hari pulled away from him. ‘That’s enough of that,’ she said trying to smile, ‘remember who you are, Mr Grenfell, and who I am.’
She rose from the table. ‘I’m going to bed,’
‘His cousin, Emily Grenfell,’ Hari ignored her mother’s outburst, ‘she will prove he is innocent, you’ll see.’
Win Morgan looked at her daughter shrewdly. ‘You are falling in love with him!’ It was an accusation and, quickly, Hari shook her head.
‘Don’t be so soft, mam, he’s not one of us, I know that as well as you do.’
‘Aye, your head knows it but does your heart understand, Angharad?’ She sighed. ‘I don’t want you hurt, love, you know how much I love you even though I don’t always show it. Be sensible, send this man packing.’
‘Listen now, mam,’ Hari said briskly, avoiding her mother’s eyes, ‘we won’t talk any more about it just now. I’ve got us a nice bit of meat pie for supper and a lovely fresh bit of bread, I expect you’re starving.’
‘No good changing the subject,’ her mother said slowly, ‘don’t go doing anything daft, cariad , this man may be as innocent as you say but his kind use people like us, remember that.’
Hari sighed, ‘I’ll remember, mam.’ She moved to the door and glanced back, warming to her mother, it was not often she expressed affection or even concern, she was a hard woman who had lived a difficult life but now and then a little softness crept into Win Morgan’s eyes that betrayed the real woman beneath the stern exterior.
‘Don’t worry,’ Hari said, ‘I can look after myself, I’ve been taught well by my mam and dad.’
She hurried downstairs, the water in the bowl tipping a little on the bare treads. Hari was tired, she had worked all day and then walked over to the other side of town and back and now there was supper to get. Tears came to her eyes and, as she entered the kitchen, she stumbled a little.
Craig came to her side and relieved her of the bowl. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘Is your mother worse?’
Hari shook her head. ‘No, it’s nothing, I’m just so tired, that’s all.’
He led her to a chair. ‘You sit there and tell me what you want done, I’m not exactly helpless you know.’
‘The supper,’ Hari said, ‘there’s meat pie in the pantry and the bread has to be cut.’
Craig moved about the room lightly, he was surprisingly deft for a big man and as Hari watched him cut the bread into silly thin slices, she smiled.
‘We won’t save money the way you do things,’ she said softly, ‘thin bread takes extra butter, thick slices are more suitable.’
‘I see,’ Craig’s dark eyes were alight with humour, ‘give me time, I’ll learn how things should be done.’
He cut the pie and placed a slice on one of the earthenware plates on the table. ‘Here, have yours,’ he said, ‘perhaps with some food inside you you’ll feel better. You are far too thin.’
Hari shook her head. ‘I’ll take mam’s up first, then I can have mine in peace,’ she said.
When she returned to the kitchen, she sank down at the table and tried to eat a little of the food, conscious that Craig was watching her.
‘When my name is cleared,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘I’d like to set you up in better premises, supply you with as much leather as you need and get you an apprentice or two.’
She glanced at him sharply. ‘You don’t owe me anything,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I manage my life quite nicely on my own thanks.’
‘Don’t be so prickly.’ Craig leaned over the table towards her, his hands almost touching hers. Hari looked away.
‘You’ll soon forget this part of your life,’ she said to him, ‘it will be like a bad dream.’
‘Not all of it.’ His hand rested on hers, ‘You are a wonderful woman, Hari Morgan, and I won’t forget you, don’t you worry.’
Hari looked into his dark eyes, they seemed to hold her mesmerized as he leaned closer, his mouth only inches from her own.
Hari pulled away from him. ‘That’s enough of that,’ she said trying to smile, ‘remember who you are, Mr Grenfell, and who I am.’
She rose from the table. ‘I’m going to bed,’
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