The Shoemaker's Daughter Read Free

alone in the house?’ he asked. She glanced up to the ceiling and catching the look, he was on his feet in a moment, grasping her arm. ‘Who lives here with you, you’d better tell me.’
    She was tempted to lie and tell him she had a husband in bed but she didn’t think he would believe her, from the sound of his voice he was an educated man.
    ‘Only my mother and she’s sick,’ Hari said defensively. ‘But who are you hiding from, what have you done?’
    ‘Nothing,’ he said quietly, ‘but I am accused of taking money and the law in its wisdom, or lack of it, decided I was to go to prison.’
    ‘The prison?’ Hari said quickly. ‘You’ve escaped from Swansea prison?’
    ‘Quick witted as well as pretty.’ She heard the laughter in his voice and she felt her colour rise.
    ‘There’s no need to make fun.’ She drew away from him. ‘All right, sleep down here in the kitchen but you’d better be gone by the morning, mind.’
    He moved towards the hearth without answering and began to mend the fire. Hari watched him, partly in fear but more in anger. There was no denying that he was a finely built man, his broad shoulders tapered into a slimness of hip that spoke of strength. His hair was thick and curly, hanging untidily round a narrow face, but clean and shaved, he would probably be quite presentable.
    He glanced at her over his shoulder. ‘You’ll know me next time,’ he said easily. Quickly Hari moved to the door aware that she had been staring at him.
    ‘Go easy with the coal now,’ she said, ‘we haven’t got any to waste, coal costs money don’t forget. And put the candle out before you go to sleep, we don’t want the place burning down.’
    Hari had just climbed fully dressed into bed when a sudden sound of running footsteps sounded on the cobbles outside. She peered through the window and saw a group of men armed with truncheons going from house to house.
    She was hurrying downstairs before she knew it. ‘The constables,’ she said, ‘they’re searching the houses.’ The stranger nodded before moving swiftly through the scullery to disappear into the darkness.
    Hari heard a hammering and for a moment she didn’t know if it was in her head, because suddenly she felt dizzy. She forced herself to be calm and went back to the kitchen.
    ‘What’s that noise, who’s disturbing decent people at this time of night?’ she called and the door was banged again.
    ‘Open up misses, there’s a criminal about, let me in for to search the house, this man could be dangerous.’
    Cautiously, Hari opened the door and saw the shining buttons of the police constable gleaming against the dark uniform.
    ‘Well, there’s no-one here but me and my mam,’ Hari said quickly. ‘Don’t you think I’d be screaming my head off if there was?’ Why was she shielding the stranger, was she out of her mind?
    ‘Well, I’ll just take a look anyway, misses, righto?’ The constable peered round the room and then moved to the scullery. Hari held her breath as he opened the back door.
    ‘Do you think he might be hiding under the bed?’ she asked quickly. ‘I thought I heard a noise in the back bedroom a little while ago.’
    ‘We’ll have a look now, misses, don’t you worry.’ He hurried upstairs and sighing with relief, Hari followed him.
    In the bedroom, Win Morgan was fast asleep, her pains eased by the gin, not even the flickering of the candle in the policeman’s hand roused her.
    Hari put her finger to her lips. ‘Mam sleeps heavy, mind,’ she said, ‘if we don’t make too much noise we won’t wake her.’
    She watched as the constable crouched on the floor peering beneath the sagging springs of the old bed. He straightened and shook his head without speaking.
    As he moved to the backroom, Hari waited as he searched and then led the way downstairs to the kitchen. It was with a sense of relief she saw the constable shrug and move to the street door.
    ‘Keep a sharp look out, mind,’ the