Page 13 of Beyond Repair
‘Right, well, thanks then,’ Katie said grumpily, pulling her hat back down over her ears and self-consciously rubbing her nose (his staring making her paranoid that there was something marking it). She straightened her shoulders. ‘You’d best get going now though. Bryn isextremelypossessive. He won’t like another man bringing me to his door and I wouldn’t want things to get physical.’
Sam’s eyebrows drew together. ‘You scared of this guy?’ he asked, and Katie chewed her lip, thinking that maybe she’d laid it on a bit thick, although the last thing she wanted was for Sam to actuallyseeBryn. Then the gig would really be up, and she had her pride. Sam’s gaze had dropped to her mouth, his expression weirdly intense before he masked it again, shaking his head and dragging his eyes back up to hers with visible effort. She sighed, releasing her lip and looking to the side whilst she tried to come up with something that would get rid of Sam. She jumped about a foot in the air when he reached past her and rapped three times on the door, ringing the doorbell for good measure.
‘Okay,’ Katie said, in a flat panic now. ‘I’m sure I’ll be safe from the murderers and rapists of Aberllwellyn in the minute it takes Bryn to get to the door.’ She gritted her teeth and forced a strained smile. ‘Thank you for your assistance but could you please justgo. I’m not –’
‘Katie?’ Bryn’s shaky voice came through the door, interrupting her. ‘Is that you out there cariad*?’ Katie closed her eyes and then leaned forward to bump her head against the door once in frustration.
‘Yes, Bryn, it’s me,’ she said through the door in a resigned voice. ‘You okay in there?’ She glanced back at Sam and saw that his head was cocked to the side.
‘Um … I’ve got myself in a bit of a pickle.’ Katie lifted her head as she heard the tremor running through Bryn’s words.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be in now in a minute,’ she reassured him whilst punching the code into the key safe beside of the door. She was totally focused on Bryn and his obvious distress now, all thoughts of saving face and her pride forgotten. When she finally made it through the door, she barely noticed the large figure in her wake.
‘Oh no,’ she breathed as she rounded the corner into Bryn’s cramped living room. He was lying on the floor next to his adjustable chair, his frame nowhere in sight and his white hair sticking up in all directions. The bow tie that he had obviously been attempting to tie hung limply around his neck. Katie leaned over him and took his hand.
‘Hey,’ she said softly, smoothing his crazy hair across his head. ‘What? You were going to stand me up, were you?’ Bryn managed a weak laugh whilst Katie felt down his sides and pressed practiced fingers over his hips.
‘Any pain?’
‘Nothing hurt but my pride,’ Bryn muttered.
‘Where’s your frame?’ she asked, pulling him up to a sitting position with great difficulty.
Bryn shrugged, avoiding her eyes and saying, ‘How’s a man to woo any ladies if he’s hobbling about on a bloody Zimmer frame? I’ve my eye on Carys Evans, see. Her lemon cake’s the best this side of LLandough. Who’s this?’ Bryn, who was now sitting up in the middle of his living room, was staring across at Sam, whose gaze was fixated on Bryn’s mantelpiece which housed all his old army photos. Sam turned to Bryn and then, bizarrely, he tensed, stood poker straight, almost as though he was going to salute.
‘Lieutenant Colonel,’ Sam said, still holding himself rigidly at his full height, his head now nearly brushing the low ceiling. ‘Sam Clifton, sir.’
‘At ease soldier,’ Bryn chuckled and Katie could have kissed Sam for cheering Bryn up to that extent. ‘Nobody’s called me that in a long time.’
‘Permission to assist you, sir?’ Sam asked, moving forward and crouching down next to where Katie was leaning over Bryn.
‘None of this “sir” business, laddie. Bryn’ll do, and I’ve got to be honest with you, I reckon Icoulddo with a bit of a hand up; don’t think our Katie here has quite the oomph I’ll need.’ Sam moved forward and lifted Bryn expertly into his chair whilst Katie scrambled to her feet open-mouthed.
‘I like this one, Katie,’ Bryn said, once he was settled comfortably back in his chair. ‘Military man; just what you need.’ Katie looked up at the ceiling, shaking her head in exasperation. ‘Which company do you serve in, boy?’
‘Not serving now,’ Sam told him. ‘Honorable discharge six years ago, but I used to be SAS.’
Bryn expelled a loud breath. ‘Crikey, lad, impressive stuff. You must have seen some action, mind.’ At that comment the atmosphere in the room grew tense for some reason. Sam’s face, which had been sporting the most open, friendly expression Katie had ever seen from him, suddenly blanked and he gave a jerky nod.
‘More than your fair share I’d be guessing,’ Bryn said softly, watching Sam’s reaction carefully. ‘What do you do as a civilian?’
‘Freelance security work … mostly,’ Sam told him, holding Bryn’s eyes and maintaining his blank mask.
‘Overseas or here?’
‘Some here, most overseas.’
‘Still using your skill set then?’ Bryn asked, cocking his head to the side in curiosity, and Sam gave him another jerky nod.
‘I see you served in Korea,’ Sam said, obviously keen to redirect the conversation. Bryn’s chest puffed up and Katie rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming: she had been subjected to Bryn’s war stories way too many times. She stood behind Bryn’s chair widening her eyes at Sam and making a silent eek face with her mouth; but Sam just flashed her an amused smile and nodded for Bryn to continue. ‘Now I’ll get to Korea in a minute, but D-Day, 1944: that was where I saw my first bit of action. Just a sixteen-year-old scrap of a thing at the time; lied about my age, see. Take a seat, boy. Katie, off you trot and get my frame. It’s round the back.’
Katie had to fight her way through Bryn’s cluttered corridor and kitchen to make it into his garden, where he had chucked the frame into the snow for some strange reason. When she made it back to them she heard low voices as she dragged the frame behind her, which stopped abruptly when she stumbled into the room. She had the distinct impression that there was more going on between them than she was aware of, and that Bryn for once in his life had not wanted to reminisce about his wartime experiences: he looked as though, when it came to Sam, he had other fish to fry. Sam glanced up at Katie and then stood abruptly from his place on the sofa.
‘Right,’ he said, nodding to Bryn and then heading past Katie to the door. She breathed a sigh of relief; the last hour in his company had been quite enough for her. As the door slammed behind Sam, she moved to Bryn’s chair.
‘Okay then, handsome, you ready to get going?’ He shrugged and shrunk back into his seat, eyeing his frame with disgust.
‘Maybe it’s better I just stay by yur*,’ he suggested, his voice now small – and he was avoiding eye contact with her. ‘Can’t get myself into any more pickles that way then, can I now.’
