Beauty Chorus, The Read Online Free Page B

Megan, wash your hands, love. Lunch is ready.’ Her mother placed a dark, glistening joint of beef in front of Rhodri. As he sharpened the carving knife on the steel with a
swish, swish, swish, Megan scrubbed her hands in the kitchen sink, sensing her cousins’ eyes as keenly as a knife blade between her shoulders. She turned as she dried her hands on a clean
linen towel, defiantly holding their gaze.
    ‘So you’re off tomorrow are you, Megan?’ the fat one asked, his attention distracted by the thick slices of beef Rhodri was carving from the steaming joint. Megan helped her
mother carry bowls of vegetables to the table, carrots and potatoes, all from their own garden.
    ‘Megan.’ Her mother nudged her.
    ‘Yes I am.’ She sat opposite the cousins, and folded her arms.
    ‘We were just saying to your mother we’d be glad to help out more on the farm now Huw and you are gone.’
    ‘I’m not “gone”.’ Megan leant forward.
    ‘Arms off the table, love,’ Nia said as she sat beside her.
    ‘Ma,’ Megan whispered out of the corner of her mouth, ‘I’m not a child any more.’
    ‘Let’s say grace.’ Nia took her hand. Rhodri lay down the knives and took Megan’s other hand. ‘Dear Lord.’ Nia closed her eyes. When Megan peeked she saw both
cousins staring straight at her. ‘Thank you for our food and family. We ask you to look after our son Huw, and take care of our daughter Megan when she is in London.’ Nia said
‘Lon-don’ with such distaste it was as if Megan were travelling to Sodom and Gomorrah. ‘Amen.’
    ‘It’s not London, Ma,’ Megan said. ‘It’s Maidenhead I’m going to.’
    ‘Close enough.’ Nia looked at her lap as she shook out her napkin. Her brow furrowed. ‘Oh, when I think of those bombs ...’
    The grandfather clock by the settle ticked away the minutes as plates were passed to and fro and awkward small talk was made. The wind rattled the kitchen door on the latch. Megan stared
sullenly at the chipped gilt edge of the vegetable bowl as she chewed her beef, wondering when the cousins would make their move.
    ‘How’s business in town?’ Rhodri asked, as the fat one pushed back his empty plate.
    ‘Mustn’t grumble,’ he said as he untucked his napkin from the greasy collar of his shirt. ‘Things are hard for people, but you can always find a bit extra for your best
customers, if you know what I mean.’ He nudged his brother, their laughter dying away as they realised Rhodri and Nia weren’t laughing with them. ‘How about the farm now? Are you
coping?’
    Megan fiddled with the crocheted tablecloth, twisting a loop of thread tight around her fingertip, cutting off the blood.
    ‘We’re fine,’ Rhodri said. ‘Bill’s a good lad.’
    ‘Is he now?’ The thin one spoke up. ‘I’d watch him if I was you. No one knows who his family is, he just blew in with the fair didn’t he?’
    ‘What do you know about anything?’ Megan leapt to her feet. ‘Come on. Why don’t you just get on and say what you’ve really come for?’
    ‘Megan!’ Her mother grasped her arm. ‘I’m sorry, she’s still upset about Huw. We all are.’ She blinked quickly, looked down at her lap.
    ‘I can talk for myself—’
    ‘That’s enough!’ Rhodri thumped his fist on the table, and the colour drained from Megan’s face. Her father never raised his voice. ‘You’re upsetting your
mother.’
    Angry tears stung her eyes. ‘Well it’s just as well I’m leaving tomorrow, isn’t it? But I tell you one thing.’ She jabbed her finger at the cousins.
‘I’m coming back. This is my family’s farm and I will run the airfield after the war.’
    ‘But there’s no call for it round here.’ The fat one turned to Rhodri, ignoring her. ‘Think about it. If you plough up the airstrip, how much more money you could make
with—’
    ‘No!’ Megan cried. ‘Don’t do it, Da.’ She wiped away a burning tear from her cheek. ‘It’s mine, and yours, and