by Mary Grand
Catrin frowned. ‘Mum never gave me any jewellery.’
‘Of course she did. She told me.’
‘No, really. She never gave me anything.’
‘Well, where is it all then?’ Catrin realised that there was a hint of accusation in his voice.
‘I don’t know.’
‘You haven’t sold it, have you?’
‘Of course not. Honestly I haven’t had anything.’
Catrin felt herself going very red. She felt that her father didn’t believe her, but why should she be lying? ‘I haven’t got any of it, Dad.’ She changed the subject. ‘The service on Monday– Did you say people will be coming back here?’
‘That’s right. I’ve booked caterers. By the way, your cousin David and his wife Anwen will be coming.’
‘Oh, good.’ She smiled.
‘Anwen brought a cake down this morning, actually. Said she knew you were coming.’
‘Gosh. That’s kind.’
‘She talks non-stop. Don’t know how David puts up with it.’
‘She’s very different to Sian,’ said Catrin. David’s ex had been a severe, cold, grey day sort of person. Catrin had never understood why David had married her.
‘She certainly is.’
‘David was telling me that he’s changed his job now. He seems a lot happier.’
‘Madness. He gave up a perfectly safe job in the civil service, good pension and everything, to go and work with a load of drop-outs. No wonder Sian left him. This new woman, though, doesn’t seem to mind supporting her husband.’
‘She’s a solicitor, a bright woman.’
‘I don’t know why Angela just gave them that house, you know. Just gave it to them.’
‘She insisted, Dad. She has her new bungalow, and she wanted to do it.’
‘But to just give them the house. Madness. No-one appreciates something for nothing.’ Catrin sighed at one of her father’s most over-used lines. Everything had to be earned with her father.
‘I must go and visit her,’ said Catrin. ‘She doesn’t travel because of her arthritis, so I’m out of touch with her. Though we do write occasionally. Who else is coming for the service on Monday?’
‘A few architect friends. I told them about it in the New York practice where Aled worked, but I don’t expect anyone to travel from there. No, they are doing their part with the trust fund, but I’m hoping some people come from Cardiff. I emailed a few people, you know.’
‘It’s a long time ago, Dad. A lot of people who knew Aled will have moved on by now,’ she said gently.
‘But not all. No, there are still people who remember what a remarkable young man he was. Of course, there’ll be some people from the village coming as well.’
‘It’s a busy week, sorting out the house and the, um, the celebration.’
‘There’s Bethan’s birthday as well a week next Saturday.’
‘Of course. I thought we’d go all go out for a meal. She’s going out with her friends in Cardiff when we go back.’
Her father grinned. ‘Ah, I have a few birthday surprises planned for Bethan.’
Catrin frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ll have to wait and see.’
‘If it’s to do with Bethan I should be told.’
‘You make such a fuss over every little thing. Bethan has huge potential, and I intend to see it’s not wasted.’
Catrin was shocked by the intensity with which he spoke. ‘What’s going on, Dad?’
Her father took a long swig of his wine, but abruptly changed the subject. ‘I hope you are following the London Olympics.’
‘Of course,’ she said, but instantly regretted it.
‘So, what are you going to be following in particular?’
‘Swimming?’
‘What stroke?’
‘All of it,’ she said, and immediately saw from her father’s face that she had failed the test.
‘You know Aled would have loved all this. Having the Olympics here. Bet he’d have gone up to London. God, maybe he’d have been competing. Well, not now, but in the past.’ He sighed. ‘So many wasted years. Don’t suppose you bothered to even apply for tickets.’
‘No. Gareth wouldn’t have the time, and I suppose I’m not really that interested,’ Catrin said awkwardly, and, for some reason, she felt terribly guilty.
‘And where are you working at the moment?’
She looked away. ‘At the university, in the canteen. I get the holidays off.’
‘Really, Catrin. You’ve never had a proper job, have you? It’s such a shame you never settled at school. I dreaded your school reports: always late with your homework, missing lessons.’
‘It was difficult.’
‘Don’t see why.’
‘You were away a lot. There was Mum–’
‘That’s no excuse.’
‘Shame you never went to college,’ he continued.
‘Well, remember, the school lost all my work that I’d prepared for the interviews and, of course, Mum–’
‘Never mind. It would have been a waste of time. By the way, I noticed you signing to Bethan. Surely she doesn’t need it now?’
‘Dad, I’ve told you. Bethan actually sees it as her first language. If I was better we’d use it properly, the correct grammar and syntax. As it is, she accommodates me. At Deaf Club she uses BSL properly.’
‘My God. She still goes to Deaf Club?’
‘Of course.’
‘She doesn’t need that.’
‘She loves going. It’s hard work talking and trying to lip-read, using her hearing aids all the time. When you think about it, she has to do all the hard work. When she goes there she says she can relax, be herself.’
‘It all seems very odd to me. She speaks well and, honestly, sometimes you wouldn’t know she was Deaf.’
‘I know, but the thing is, Dad, she is, and she’s not ashamed of it. I admire that.’
‘You should have let me pay for that operation. Then, at least, she wouldn’t have to wear hearing aids.’
‘I told you: we asked about it. We were told a cochlear implant isn’t suitable for her, even if she wanted to go through the operation. And I’m not sure she would.’
‘It’s a shame. It would make her better, wouldn’t it?’
Catrin sighed. She had explained it so many times to her father.
‘No, Dad. She would have a transmitter attached to her head, a microphone and processor that looks like a hearing aid behind her ear, and when she took it off she would still be Deaf. As for making her better, well, in one sense I don’t think she can be better. She doesn’t need fixing. She’s lovely as she is. People have to accept Bethan as Bethan.’ Catrin could feel herself getting redder, her voice shaking. She was in full protection mode and would fight anyone who she felt was attacking her daughter.
Her father shook his head, poured himself another a glass of wine, crossly said ‘I’m going to watch the games,’ and left the kitchen.
Catrin had just finished putting the food away when Bethan came in. ‘Dad sent me a text.’
‘Oh when did he send that?’
‘Ages ago. I forgot to tell you. He said he’d be out of signal for the rest of the day. He’ll catch up with you in the morning.’
‘OK. Well, I hope he finds the lasagne in the fridge.’
Bethan wandered around the kitchen.
‘This place is so old fashioned,’ Bethan said.
‘I rather like it.’
Bethan went over to the dresser.
‘This is cool, though.’
‘My Grandfather Hugh, Nana Beth’s husband, made it. The carving is very good, isn’t it? It’s strange. Although he was a real hero, he died in the Second World War, you see, but there are no photos of him anywhere, and Nana Beth didn’t talk about him much. He did some carvings in the church as well. In fact, we must look for them on Monday when we go to the memorial, sorry, the celebration.’
Bethan stood f
iddling with the shells and stones on the dresser. Then she opened one of the drawers and pulled out a very old newspaper. It was headed ‘The Gower Times’. Catrin could see a faded photograph of Worm’s Head on the front page. Bethan started to read.
‘Early this morning the body of a young man, Aled Merrick, was found.’ She looked at Catrin quizzically. Catrin stepped quickly towards her.
‘Stop.’
‘Aled Merrick?’
‘Yes, but–’ Catrin took hold of the newspaper, but Bethan didn’t let go. Catrin gripped it tighter, but Bethan pulled it away and read. ‘His body was washed up on Rhossili Bay, but it is believed he fell off Worm’s Head the previous evening–’
Catrin managed to pull the paper away.
‘Mum, it says he drowned–’
‘That’s right.’
‘You said he fell on Worm’s Head’
‘I didn’t want to tell you he drowned. I thought it would upset you.’
‘You lied about how he died?’
‘I was trying to protect you.’
‘You should have told me the truth. I have a right to know how my own father died.’
Chapter Five
Catrin suggested to Bethan that they go for a walk. Somehow it seemed easier to talk outside. They began by walking down through the back garden. Catrin was pleased to see the sunflowers, poppies and geranium were still growing. She remembered going to her Nana Beth, telling her that they had to grow the dwarf sunflowers because the tall ones would never have survived the sea winds. In the same way there were few trees on this part of the Gower. As she looked down at the flowers and the poppies she noticed a patch where the flowers were less dense. They were covering a patch, but there used to be something there. She screwed her eyes tight trying to remember, but couldn’t picture what had been there.
Catrin and Bethan crossed the road and made their way down through the heather, so beautiful at this time of year: a sea of pinks, purples and white, with occasional bursts of sunshine yellow gorse. They reached a ledge which looked down on to the beach.
‘Shit, it’s huge,’ said Bethan.
Catrin looked down at the miles of white sand, the sheer scale that could never be captured on a photograph. She remembered Harri taking photographs down here. He had had some posh Olympus camera. She was still using her pocket Kodak Instamatic. Their ‘fling,' when they had been sixteen, had been one of the fast burning, intense relationships that you have at that age. They had sat here at the top of the beach. She would sketch the pebbles and the shells, and they would make plans.
Catrin started picking up pebbles. She had forgotten how beautiful they were here. They ranged in colour from reds and pinks, orange and yellows, to buffs and greys, many blue-greys with patterns in and on the stones that included stripes, layers, lines, and abstract designs. Catrin blinked, looked up and saw that there were small groups of people scattered over the vast expanse of beach. Even on a sunny Saturday in July it wasn’t crowded. The walk down from the car park was long and steep. Rhossili made few concessions to visitors. Most families would have gone to Oxwich or Caswell.
‘That must be a cool place to live,’ said Bethan, pointing along the ledge to a solitary white house.
‘It’s owned by the National Trust now. Many years ago it was a rectory. The vicar would ride his horse along the beach between the parish churches at either end.’
Bethan laughed. ‘Really?’
Catrin smiled. ‘They say that his ghost still rides at night. Apparently Dylan Thomas, you know, the poet I mentioned, he was going to buy it, but he said it was too far from the nearest pub.’
‘You can’t see Bryn Draig from here.’
‘No, it’s tucked away. Weird. You wouldn’t even know it was there.’
They clambered down the last bit of cliffside, on to the beach. Bethan took off her sandals and pulled off her sweatshirt. As she did, Catrin automatically glanced at the neat hearing aids tucked behind her tiny pixie ears, to check they were switched on. She always looked. She couldn’t help it. Even in shops, she would glance at strangers’ aids to check they were switched on. Not, of course, that she would say anything if they were off; it was just a habit. A young man with long blonde hair, carrying a surf board ran past. He glanced over at Bethan and seemed to run faster and more upright.
‘This place is OK,’ said Bethan, grinning.
Catrin started picking up shells, but Bethan touched her on the arm. ‘You said you’d tell me. What really happened?’
Catrin took in a deep breath, and bit her lip hard. Where was she to start? They sat down on the warm sand. She noticed that Bethan had started to wind a strand of hair around her forefinger. Catrin thought carefully; nothing about this was easy.
‘OK.’ Catrin adopted a matter of fact tone. ‘You want to know how Aled died.’ She swallowed hard. ‘Aled died two weeks before you were born.’
‘I know that,’ said Bethan, impatiently. ‘I know he died. I was born in a hospital near here. He fell, well, he drowned by the sound of it, and my mother was taken to the hospital where I was born. She then gave me to you, and now she is dead too.’
Catrin flinched at the cold anger hidden behind the harsh synopsis.
‘We adopted you, yes. We wanted to. We loved you very much.’
‘The thing is, what happened to Aled?’
Catrin looked over at Worm’s Head, at that moment cut off from the headland. Bethan followed her gaze and asked ‘He went over there? Did he swim there?’
‘Oh, no. He couldn’t have done that. There are lethal currents in the water around the causeway. I think the causeway must have been clear when he started, but it was still an extremely dangerous thing to do. It was dark, raining, and, of course, it wouldn’t be long until the tide came in.’
‘How do you know he got to Worm’s Head?’
‘They found his jumper there. He definitely got there.’
‘So he fell into the sea from Worm’s Head?’
Catrin cringed. ‘Yes, that’s what they assumed. I’m so sorry.’
‘What a horrible way to die. So, it was just an accident?’
Catrin took a deep breath. ‘Yes. I’m sorry. I don’t understand it–’
‘Why did he go there?’
Catrin looked at Bethan’s anxious face. ‘Nobody knows. Listen, I think I’ll have to start at the beginning of the evening. Your Grandma and your Grandad were giving a party for Aled, as I said. I remembered wondering why my parents hadn’t held the party in their main house in Cardiff, which was far smarter. However, apparently Aled wanted a barbeque at the Dragon House, and what Aled wanted he got.’
‘Grandad told me Aled was going to be a great. He said he was as good as someone called Frank something or other.’
‘Frank Lloyd Wright. Yes, he often said that. Anyway, Dad and I drove up from Cardiff. We came up in the early evening. It was so hot, like today, and we had Lady with us.’
‘Lady?’
‘Our cocker spaniel, Lady. Do you remember her?’
‘Sort of. There are photos around of her.’
‘She was gorgeous. Mad, of course. I loved her so much.’ Catrin smiled, momentarily distracted at the thought of Lady, and then continued.
‘Did you have Lowri then?’
‘Oh yes. She was two. We left her with Dad’s parents. We came down here to the beach before the party. Dad had never been to Rhossili before, and I had been excited to show him a place that was so special to me. I’d been so relieved that Dad had loved it as much as me. He described it perfectly, saying, ‘It’s like reaching the end of the world.’ To make the visit even more special he’d given me this beautiful sapphire necklace.’ Catrin stopped, savouring the memory of that feeling that all was right with the world when for once she had believed that fate wasn’t out to get her.
‘I’m impressed that Dad gave you a present. A long time since he’s done that.’
‘I suppose so. Anyway, we arrived at the Dragon House. I walked
across the scruffy brown lawn that was there then and into the house. Lots of people had already arrived. My Mum was in a bit of a state. She worried a lot, but her sister, Angela, was trying to calm her down. Grandad was really excited and, of course, Aled was centre stage.’
‘What did he look like that evening?’
Catrin knew exactly how he had looked, but chose her words carefully. ‘He was excited, bit on edge, but of course he was very good-looking, very blonde, and had deep ocean-blue eyes. You know, when he was happy, when he smiled, his eyes shone and sparkled like the sea on a sunny day.’ She stopped. It hurt so much. Her darling brother: that had been the last time they had talked.
‘What was he wearing?’
‘He had on jeans and a white shirt. Everyone was looking at him as though he was a film star. When Grandad made the speech I kept thinking ‘Wow, this is my brother. I was so proud of him.’
‘A speech?’
‘Oh, yes. Grandad made one all about how wonderful and gifted Aled was, most promising architect of his generation. That it was his dream to have Aled come to work with him in his firm.’
‘That was heavy.’
‘Well, it’s what he genuinely thought: ‘We have somehow given birth to a saint. We are rightly humbled and feel very blessed.’’
Bethan’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Bloody hell. That was laying it on pretty thick, wasn’t it? Didn’t you mind?’
‘No. It’s how we all thought of him.’
‘But didn’t you feel a bit put out, him being the favourite like that?’
‘No, I never minded. Aled, you see, was one of those grade A students. He excelled at everything.’
‘Well, I’d have been pretty pissed off, being overshadowed like that.’
Catrin grinned at the idea of anyone overshadowing Bethan.
‘And then what happened?’
‘I remember there was a rumble of thunder and spots of rain. The caterers were quietly moving stuff inside. A lot of the cooking was finished. Grandad said we’d better all go inside. Then, I remember looking over and seeing Aled. He was talking to a pretty young girl. I remembered I’d seen her earlier down on the beach, collecting shells, and had wondered what she was doing there. She wore a white, smocked, baby doll dress and huge Doc Martin boots. I think it was the fashion then. They were talking really intensely.’
