Evans to Betsy Read Free Page B

unseen.
     
     
    “Please don’t cry, Mrs. Williams.” Constable Evan Evans reached out awkwardly and patted his landlady’s large shoulder. This gesture only made the generously built woman sob into her handkerchief even more loudly.
    “I feel like I’m losing a son,” she said. “The son I never had, you were.”
    “It’s not like I’m going far. Just across the street, isn’t it? And you’ll be able to see me every day. I might even drop in for a cup of tea and a chat.”
    “But it won’t be the same.”
    “Come on now.” He put a tentative arm around as much of her shoulders as he could reach. “It’s time I moved on, isn’t it? I can’t go on being spoiled by you all my life. I’ve got to learn to stand on my own two feet.”
    Mrs. Williams made a supreme effort to collect herself. A big shuddering sigh went through her body. “I suppose so,” she said. “I knew it would have to come someday.”
    “Believe me, I’m not completely thrilled about it either,” Evan said. He bent to pick up a cardboard box of possessions from the floor of his room. “Cooking for myself after eating your good food for over a year—that’s going to take some getting used to. I’ll probably be as thin as a rake within a month.”
    “You could come back here for your dinner anytime you wanted. You know that,” Mrs. Williams said.

    “I know.” He smiled at her fondly. “But that’s not the point, is it? Bronwen won’t make any commitment until I’ve had a taste of living on my own.” He hoisted the box onto one shoulder and started down the stairs. “She’s perfectly right, of course. I went from my mother’s cooking to yours. I’ve never really lived alone before. How can I hope to be a husband and father someday if I don’t know how to look after myself?’
    “So you’ve made up your mind? You’re thinking of marrying Bronwen Price and settling down then, is it?” Mrs. Williams’s tears were forgotten. She hurried down the stairs behind him. “We all knew you were courting her, of course, but …”
    “I’m thinking about it,” he said. “I’ve turned thirty, haven’t I? About time I settled down.”
    “You could do worse, I suppose,” Mrs. Williams said grudgingly.
    “Worse? I don’t think I could do much better. She’s a lovely girl, isn’t she?”
    “I won’t deny that. A nice-enough girl. Sensible too. But a little too serious, if you ask me. A man needs some fun in his life. He needs to go dancing from time to time. Let his hair down a little after a hard day’s work.”
    “Are you saying I should be dating Betsy then?” He knew perfectly well what she was hinting. She had dropped the same hint, none too subtly, at regular intervals since he moved in.
    “Betsy Edwards? Betsy-the-Bar? Escob annwyl! Indeed, I am not suggesting a thing like that. Betsy’s too flighty to make any man a decent wife. What you need is someone who is a good homemaker and knows how to have fun too.”
    She reached around Evan to open the front door for him. A swirl of cold wind flapped the pages of a book on top of the pile. “Now, I know you haven’t liked to ask out our Sharon while you were living with me. I can understand that. A young man likes some privacy in his romantic dealings. He can’t go courting when the girl’s grandmother is supervising. But now you’ll be living on your own, why don’t you take her out—with my blessing? Then you’ll see—a lovely little cook, Sharon’s turning out to be, and a lovely little dancer too.”

    Evan was glad his back was turned to his landlady so that she missed the involuntary wince. Sharon, Mrs. Williams’s granddaughter, giggled like a schoolgirl at everything he said, and she was too enthusiastic, all over him, constantly pawing at him. It was like fending off a Saint Bernard puppy.
    “I’m sure she’ll make some man very happy, Mrs. Williams,” he said, “but you know me. I’m a quiet sort of bloke. I don’t go in much for