Free The Shoemaker's Daughter by Iris Gower

instinctively, he held out his arms.
    Hari moved into them, resting her head wearily against the roughness of his shirt. He held her close, smoothing back her hair, his big hands so gentle. She could hear the beating of his heart and she closed her eyes, thankful for his presence for she could not bear to be alone, not now, not yet.
    He released her. ‘You must get back to your work as soon as possible,’ he said. ‘Work will ease the pain, in time, believe me.’
    He meant well but how could Hari ever get over the shock of her mother’s sudden death?
    He made her tea and sat holding her hand until the light faded and the lamps in the street were lit, shedding a faint light into the room.
    ‘I must go out,’ Craig said, ‘but I promise I won’t be long.’
    Hari sat up straighter in her chair. ‘You must not worry about me,’ she said quickly, ‘you are not responsible for me, mind, and I will not be beholden.’
    He smiled down at her and, in the light from the fire, he looked so handsome, so strong and safe that she wanted to cling to him.
    ‘I know,’ he said, shrugging into his coat. ‘But remember, far from you being beholden to me, it is the other way around, I should be grateful to you.’
    He crouched before her, his big shoulders against the light from the window so that she could not see his expression. ‘You are harbouring a criminal and that is something that takes courage. You do have courage, Hari Morgan, and never are you going to need it as much as you do now.’
    He let himself quietly out of the house and the silence closed in around Hari, smothering her. She rose quickly and lit the candles, all six of them which was wasteful, but she needed to be in the light for the shadows in the corners frightened her.
    Tomorrow she would work, she would finish the shoes belonging to Emily Grenfell in the morning and then in the afternoon she would sole the heavy boots that Cleg the Coal so badly needed for his round.
    It was about time she stopped feeling sorry for herself, the hurt and pain of losing mam would be with her for a long time, but Hari knew she could not let her grief incapacitate her, if she did not mend and make shoes she did not eat.
    A sudden rapping startled her. Hari could just see a shape outlined against the uncovered glass, she had forgotten to put dad’s apron over the window.
    ‘ Duw . Who is that then?’ she said, her mouth dry. ‘What do you think you’re doing frightening a girl half to death?’
    She opened the door and peered out. ‘What do you want?’ She saw the man draw nearer.
    ‘I want to pay my respects, Angharad,’ Mr Fisher stood on the threshold, his hat in his hand. ‘There’s sorry I am about your mam, would have come to the funeral if I hadn’t had to work, mind.’
    ‘What are you doing here this time of night, Mr Fisher?’ she asked. She looked beyond him into the darkness afraid that at any moment Craig would return.
    ‘Your cousin at home, is he, Angharad?’ he asked mildly and Hari felt herself grow tense.
    ‘No, not right now. Thank you for coming, Mr Fisher,’ Hari felt the tears of weakness brim in her eyes. ‘But my mam was only buried today and I’m not fit company for anyone.’
    ‘Right, I understand, but if there’s anything you want, Angharad, any help you need, then don’t hesitate to ask.’ He moved away into the night and Hari watched until he had disappeared from sight, then she closed the door.
    Mr Fisher’s visit had underlined the position she was in, she was now a woman alone.
    She rubbed a hand over her eyes, she would have to talk to Craig when he returned, he could not stay with her now and, anyway, he would not wish to compromise her.
    It was late when he returned, his brow was creased and there were circles of darkness under his eyes.
    ‘I’ve had bad news,’ he said, ‘Edward Morris has been taken into Swansea Prison, he is accused of fraud.’ He sank into a chair. ‘I never thought that Emily would warn my