Free A Small Country by Sian James Page B

asked.
    ‘I’m considering it,’ Miriam said.
    ‘If you have to consider it, don’t,’ Jenkins said, ‘that’s my opinion.’
    ‘I’m all right as I am,’ Miriam agreed.
    ‘I should think you are. As right as anyone can be. Your own boss, very near. Someone will come along, no doubt, and you’ll marry him because you can’t help yourself, but until that time comes, rejoice in your freedom; that’s my advice.’
    ‘I think perhaps you’re right.’
    ‘Have you ever known me wrong?’

    ‘I’m not going to marry you, Gareth,’ she had told him again, the following Sunday. He went on coming to see her, though, went on proposing from time to time, but without much hope. He was not what she wanted; they both knew it.

    When Josi came into her life, she realized that he was the someone Ifan Jenkins had warned her about, the one against whom she would have no defences. But he was already married, so what was the good of that?

SEVEN

    The married man rode past Miriam’s garden often that summer. He and she would usually talk together for a short time under the rowan trees that overhung the path, but he was never again invited into the house; there seemed no excuse for it. I’m a respectable schoolmistress, Miriam told herself. I’m not for him.
    The affair languished during autumn and winter, she saw him once at a Christmas concert; a curt nod, that was all.
    Gareth continued faithful, and though he made no headway with her, seemed fairly contented.
    Miriam put heart and soul into her work. The Inspector of Schools gave her a glowing report. ‘The mistress, Miss Miriam Lewis, is a young woman of rare perception and application. Her pupils have responded well to her love of the written word, displaying a mature knowledge of both English and Welsh literature. Arithmetic is taught systematically and thoroughly, the pupils having a commendable grasp of the processes they employ. In Nature Study and Art, a particular measure of excellence has been achieved by the method of taking the children out of doors whenever possible, enabling them to see the wonders surrounding them. They sing harmoniously and joyfully. I have no hesitation in stating that the pupils of Rhydfelen School are being educated in the fullest sense of the word.’
    Miriam was gratified by the report, fairly satisfied with the way her life was going.

    Yet, when she caught a glimpse of Josi in Llanfryn one Saturday morning in early spring, she waved and rushed to catch up with him; was at his side before she realized what she had done.
    I’ll ride over to see you one of these days,’ he said, confidence in his voice, entreaty in his dark eyes. He didn’t understand her, had been trying to put her out of his mind.
    They stood together for a minute or more, and in that time, each accepted his fate. Neither of them smiled. The sun shone in the pale sky above them. It was a cold day, glittering like a jewel.

    The following Monday, he rode up to the school as he had done almost exactly a year before. Once again he waited outside for all the children to leave.
    When he went in, Miriam was at her desk writing. She didn’t seem surprised to see him, perhaps she had heard his horse, perhaps she had been expecting him for the past year.
    He stood against the door looking at her. Neither of them spoke.
    The distance between them. Neither of them moved. Why doesn’t she say something, Josi asked himself, why doesn’t she help me, why doesn’t she smile? The distance between them seemed like distance in a dream.
    Then at last Miriam put down her pen, wiping the nib carefully, and Josi took a deep breath and bridged the distance between them, arrived at her side and drew her to her feet. He felt as though he had swum through a river to save a drowning man; that he was the drowning man. For several moments he held her, held on to her. Then he took off his top-coat and spread it on the floor by the little stove and they lay down together.
    ‘Someone will