“Idris,” he said, “how are you?”
“I am to have new boots,” the child said.
“Are you?” Geraint glanced down at the pitiful shreds of boots the boy wore. It was amazing that they stayed on his feet. “That will be pleasant.”
“And my sisters are to have new dresses,” the child said.
“Very nice,” Geraint said.
“My dada has money,” Idris said. “And I know why. And I know where it came from.”
“Oh?” Geraint made his voice chilly. He hoped the father had not been that indiscreet. All they needed was to have a blabbing child in Glynderi.
“My dada has money because he went with Rebecca,” Idris said while Geraint closed his eyes briefly. “And the money came from Rebecca.”
Geraint stopped walking and gazed sternly down at the child. He clasped his hands at his back and found himself hoping that his face was not too noticeably dirty.
“What is this, Idris?” he said. “Do you realize what you are saying and to whom? Do you realize that you could get your father into serious trouble if I believed you? Do you realize that he could be sent away for a long, long time and you would be left with only your mother and your sisters?”
“I wanted to go too,” the child said, “but Dada would not let me. He told me he would take the strap to me if I followed him.”
Geraint took a deep breath and stooped down on his haunches. “I should think so too,” he said. “Now listen to me, Idris. I do not want to hear you telling such stories about your father again. And I do not want to hear of you telling them to anyone else. If I do, I might be tempted to take a strap to you myself for lying. And I have big muscles and a heavy hand. I will pretend I have not heard you today. Do you understand me?”
“But I did go out,” Idris said. “And I saw her.”
“Her?”
“Rebecca,” the child said. “I saw her.”
God damn it all to hell! “She probably looked very frightening,” he said. “In future you will know to stay safe in your bed at nights, Idris.” What were the parents about, allowing the child to wander at night? And yet he remembered that he had done it himself, eluding his mother while she slept.
“I want to help her,” Idris said. “I want to help her because she helps us to fight against the bad men. And because she gives money to people who are poor. And because she is not what she seems to be.” He was looking directly into Geraint’s eyes, his own wide and guileless.
And dear God in heaven, what was this?
“I want to help her if I can,” the child said again. For the first time he looked almost frightened. His next words were whispered. “I know who she is.”
Dear Lord God!
“Then it were best that you kept the knowledge to yourself, lad,” he said. “Go home to your mam now. It looks as if it might rain.” It did not.
“Yes.” Idris nodded. “But I want to help her. If there is anything I can do.”
Geraint rested his hand lightly on the boy’s head. He was not sure what kind of communication was passing between them. Not sure at all. Or perhaps he just did not want to know.
“Go home now,” he said quietly.
But before he straightened up, he did something that took him quite by surprise. He wrapped his arms around the thin and ragged little figure and hugged him close.
“Life can be dangerous for little boys,” he said, “even when they are very brave little boys. Wait until you grow up, lad, and then you can show the world your mettle.”
He felt almost embarrassed when he finally stood up. But the little urchin did not linger. He was off up the hill again, bounding along with all the energy of childhood.
But before he did so, he gave Geraint one wide-eyed look that could surely not be misinterpreted. It was a look of pure devotion.
Hell and a million damnations!
Chapter 16
