Constable Evans 02: Evan Help Us Read Online Free Page A

around strangers, just like you Welsh people,” Annie said, her eyes challenging again. “I’d best be getting back to my cooking, if you can call baked beans and frankfurters cooking. See you then, constable, or do you have a first name?”
    “It’s Evan.”
    “Evan Evans?” She let out a shriek of laughter. “That’s about as bloody Welsh as you can get, isn’t it?”
    Evan started to walk away as she made for her front door.
    “Bye, Evan,” she called after him. “See you around. Go on, Jenny, say good-bye.”
    He turned back, but Jenny’s face was still buried. He continued down the street, intrigued by Annie Pigeon who just appeared spontaneously in a place she had never seen before. Why? Why would a big-city girl from England come to live in a remote village in Wales? He got the feeling that there was no Mr. Pigeon around, probably never had been. It wasn’t going to be easy for a single mum, that was for sure. There was no denying that the Welsh took a long time to warm to strangers and most people in Llanfair spoke Welsh rather than English. He’d have to do what he could—
    He stopped abruptly as he sensed, rather than saw, someone watching him. Bronwen Price was leaning on the gate to the school playground. Her ash blond braid hung over one shoulder, and the wind was blowing stray wisps of hair across her face. She was wearing a long blue cotton skirt and a blue denim shirt that matched her eyes.
    “Good evening, Evan,” she said, repeating his name exactly as Annie had called out after him.

Chapter 3
    “Damn,” Evan muttered under his breath.
    He gave her a smile as he strolled over to her. “Oh, hullo there, Bronwen. You’re working late tonight, aren’t you?”
    “I could say the same for you,” Bronwen said, her gaze going past him up the street to a front door that was just closing. “Giving the tourists advice on the local attractions, were you?”
    Evan couldn’t tell from her voice whether she was annoyed or amused. “She’s not a tourist. She’s just moved here. Came from Manchester, of all places, and never been out of the city before by the sound of it. The little girl thought a sheep was a bear.” He attempted to laugh but Bronwen was still looking at him with large, solemn eyes. She said nothing so he went on. “I imagine it won’t be easy for her, coming here and not speaking Welsh.”
    “So you’re going to help her get settled in.”
    “I think we all should help her,” Evan said. “It can’t be easy, alone with a little kid.”
    “You know your trouble, Evan Evans,” Bronwen said. “You’re just an overgrown boy scout. You can’t stop helping people, can you?”
    “Just doing my job, Bronwen.”
    “Right,” she said, giving him a sweet smile. “You’d better go and close up the station then, hadn’t you? They’ll be wondering down in Caernarfon where you’ve got to.”
    She turned away from the gate and Evan walked on, feeling annoyed and confused. Had she just been teasing him or did she really think he’d been unnecessarily attentive to Annie Pigeon? Why was it so damned hard to understand women? And why should it matter what she thought? It wasn’t as if they were engaged or even officially dating. And yet Evan knew that it did matter. He cared more about Bronwen than he dared admit to himself. He liked having her around. He had come to rely on her. Like Henry Higgins, he had grown accustomed to her face. And he was approaching thirty—an age when a man should start to think about settling down.
    *   *   *
    It was almost seven when Evan finally headed home. He had sat at his desk, thinking, and his end-of-the-week paperwork had taken him twice as long as usual.
    “Aren’t you coming for a drink then, Evan bach?” Charlie Hopkins had called out to him as he passed him in the street. “It’s Friday night, isn’t it?”
    “I’ll be there,” Evan called back. “I’ve got to go home and change first. Not allowed to drink in