Divided Treasure by David Williams

Author:David Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-12-20T12:28:11+00:00

Chapter Eleven

‘Sorry I’m later than promised, Susan,’ said a worried looking Megan Chard when she reached home at ten twenty-five.

‘That’s all right, Mrs Chard. Only ten minutes later,’ answered the attractive, seventeen-year-old baby-sitter, closing her text-book. She was a tall girl with long golden hair, a freckled face and a slight figure. She had been a pupil of Mrs Chard’s years before in junior school, and was now studying for university.

‘Well, it’s not good enough, letting people down. But I couldn’t get away,’ Mrs Chard went on chiding herself. ‘Billy behaved all right, did he?’ Disconsolately she dropped her evening bag onto a chair and went to study her appearance in the mirror above the fireplace.

‘Like an angel. Went to bed at nine thirty like you said.’ ‘That’s good,’ but Billy always behaved himself, so his mother

hardly registered the answer. She sighed. ‘Oh dear, this dress was wrong for tonight. I felt it all evening.’ She pulled at the neckline and glowered at the sleeves.

‘It’s lovely, Mrs Chard. Too formal, was it?’

Inwardly Susan agreed about the dress. It didn’t help with Mrs Chard being overweight either. Someone should advise her on clothes – and a diet. She was a gauche as ever. Yet she had been such a good teacher, confident enough in the classroom, with no problem about keeping order. The children had loved her.

‘My husband will be back soon. He’ll drive you home.’ Mrs Chard had turned to look at Susan who was dressed in a loose cotton blouse and very tight, bleached jeans.

‘That’s really not necessary. It’s only ten minutes’ walk.’

‘Fifteen more like, and it’s late. I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want you out alone. Pretty girl like you.’ She smiled approvingly as she spoke. There was no envy in her mind about the good looks, only a sadness about the condition the girl coped with so stoically, even though it must restrict her lifestyle. ‘The streets are so dangerous these days,’ she went on. ‘Remember there was a girl attacked in Llanegwen only last month?’

‘Mm. Doesn’t happen often, though. Not round here. They don’t think that was a local man either. Someone driving through on the new road probably. It doesn’t worry me.’

Mrs Chard wasn’t so easily assuaged. ‘Well, let’s have a cup of tea while we’re waiting. I could do with one.’

Fifteen minutes later there was still no sign of Michael Chard. ‘I think I ought to be getting home if you don’t mind,’ said

Susan, standing up and gathering the chemistry books she’d brought to work on. ‘Thanks for the extra money, Mrs Chard. You shouldn’t have.’

‘Oh dear, I’m sure Mr Chard will be here any second. Can’t imagine what’s keeping him.’ This wasn’t strictly true: her imagination had been hyperactive in that regard for some time. ‘I could run you home myself . . .’

‘And leave Billy alone in the house? Certainly not.’ Susan knew that would have been anathema to Mrs Chard: it showed in her face at the mere suggestion – and in the relief at the refusal.

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