The Wrong Boy by Cathy Ace

Author:Cathy Ace
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Four Tails Publishing Ltd.

Helen

The lunchtime crowd arrived later than usual, which didn’t surprise Helen – it always did when the clocks sprang forward an hour; she’d allowed for it when planning the cooking times for the roasts.

What she hadn’t expected was to get back from church so late.

She’d been delayed by a bit of an incident as the congregation had filed out, all greeted by Reverend Thomas at the door. Helen had always liked Llewellyn Thomas; he didn’t stand for the politicking which was usual within any small church community, and made his views about inclusiveness and acceptance quite clear.

His sermon that morning had obviously been directed at her mother, whose argument with Gwen the previous day was widely recognized as being the reason for Gwen’s collapse. Helen realized the entire sad event could have been avoided if only Gwen hadn’t come to the pub, but it seemed churlish to point that out when the woman was lying in a hospital bed, flirting with death.

Nan Jones had been the ‘housekeeper’ at the church – tending to the heating, cleaning, floral decorations, and heading up the altar guild – for many years, but the hundreds of hours of work she’d put in apparently counted for nothing when her fellow villagers all decided they’d had their fill of Nan’s acid tongue. Helen knew her mother should have had all her sympathy, but she admitted to herself she saw the point of view of the ‘enough’s enough’ crowd.

However, even with the sensational news about the discovery of a living Dean Hughes, and having to put up with all the sideways glances at her mother, herself and her daughter, it was something else entirely that had kept Helen talking in the graveyard after the service.

When Mair Bevan approach her, Helen had assumed it was going to be to discuss something to do with the church, so it had been a surprise when Mair had whispered to her, ‘You’ve got to get Nan to go and see Gwen in hospital, before it’s too late. Those women need a heart-to-heart before one of them’s gone. Neither of them should go to their grave with their feud on their conscience.’

‘With what feud exactly on their conscience?’ Helen had asked, never having had the faintest idea why her mother hated Gwen Beynon so much.

‘Just tell your mother what I’ve said, and she’ll know what I mean. They’ve told the vicar Gwen will recover, but you never know. Tell Nan to go to the hospital – quick, if she’s got any sense. You should drive her – she’ll need a shoulder to cry on when they’ve talked about it.’

‘About what?’ pressed Helen, but Mair hadn’t been prepared to elaborate.

Helen admitted to herself she’d dawdled back to the pub, but when she got there it was full steam ahead, until the main rush had been dealt with. By four she knew she needed to put her feet up for half an hour. Helen went to her bedroom; she couldn’t face her mother, and needed her own space for a little while.

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