Hidden Chapters

by Mary Grand

  ‘Oh Mum, I’m so sorry. What the hell is Grandad playing at? And Dad, well, I’ve never seen him like this.’

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ Catrin said, rubbing her forehead, blinking fast. ‘Bethan can’t go to America. I’m caught in the middle of it all. Oh, Lowri, what a mess.’

  ‘This audition sounds a bit far fetched, Mum. I think this is just Grandad trying to get Bethan to go to America with him.’

  ‘But what if this man, Zac whatever, what if he likes Bethan?’

  ‘You know, Bethan isn’t stupid. I’m not sure she would want to go.’

  ‘You could be right. I know the more you confront her, the more she digs her heals in. Your Dad knows that. I don’t know why he went so mad.’

  ‘What’s up with him? He went so red. Did you see the sweat on his forehead? Whatever is the matter with him?’

  ‘He’s very angry with Grandad…and me.’

  ‘It’s not like him to be so hurtful.’

  Catrin looked over at the downs. They looked so much more inviting than going back to the house.

  ‘Lowri, love. Do you mind if I go for a walk? I won’t be long.’

  ‘Of course. Shall I come?’

  ‘It’s alright. Could you check on Safi, though?’

  ‘Of course. And, Mum, try not to worry. Honestly, Grandad can be such a bastard.’

  ‘Lowri!’

  ‘Well, it’s true.’

  ‘Look, I’ll be back soon.’

  ‘Good, or I’ll be out to look for you.’

  Catrin left Lowri, and started walking. When she was sure that she was alone, she sat down on a bench, lit a cigarette, and took long hard drags.

  ‘So, this is what you get up to in private,’ she heard someone say behind her. She glanced up guiltily, to see David, who sat down beside her. She stubbed out the cigarette.

  ‘It’s alright. I won’t tell.’

  ‘It’s just sometimes–’

  ‘I know. It’s alright. God, what a night. Not a good end to your birthday.’

  ‘The best part was Safi. Lowri tells me he’s a blue roan cocker spaniel. You’ll have to meet him soon. He’s gorgeous.’

  ‘Lowri is a great kid. She’ll be a really good doctor, like her Dad.’

  ‘I’m sure. You know, they gave me a basket and all sorts for Safi. Bless them. They spent a lot of money.’

  ‘Gareth seems rather stressed, didn’t he?’

  ‘Just taken on too much, I suppose.’

  Catrin was suddenly aware of the sky approaching that special pre-sunset glow, which only lasted a few minutes. There were myriad shades of reds and yellows; the sea in the distance molten gold. Even the strip of sand Catrin could see was tinted red and gold. For the first time she realised that it was an extraordinarily beautiful evening. The only sound was the waves in the distance. The seagulls were silent, in awe. Catrin and David watched those magical few moments when the sun suddenly drops below the horizon. The final flash of glory was brief and easily missed. It was the kind of image which drew photographers, but which they never quite captured. Catrin was glad: some things should be kept for those who are there to experience them. The sky slowly became darker blues and purple. The change was awesome.

  ‘This place is magnificent,’ whispered David. ‘Every day is different. Even in the winter, the thick sea fog is stunning. I can’t believe sometimes that I actually live here.’

  ‘When I arrived yesterday, the beauty of the place took my breath away. It seems all wrong that such an awful thing should happen somewhere so lovely.’

  ‘That’s life, though, I suppose.’ They sat for another minute quietly. Then David spoke more firmly, ‘Why does Lloyd do these things? This audition, he never should have arranged it without talking to you and Gareth.’

  ‘She’s all he has left of Aled.’

  ‘But Bethan is your child.’

  ‘Dad has never quite grasped that.’

  ‘What will happen with the audition?’

  ‘I don’t know. I wish Gareth had stayed. Him and Bethan may clash, but he can also reason with her in a way I can't. I don’t know what got into him tonight.’

  ‘I noticed his mannerisms: his hands are never still, and he’s always looking around, like he’s on edge, waiting for something to happen.’

  ‘He is, isn’t he? I thought I was imaging it.’

  ‘No, something’s up. Did he say something about some research?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t know why he took it on. He’s changed, you know. I have to admit he’s touchy at home now. He never used to be like that. Lately, I can’t do anything right–’

  David put his arm around Catrin. ‘I’m sure Gareth loves you and his family very much.’

  Catrin shrugged off his arm in frustration. ‘You don’t know that. He never says anything. In fact, he’s never home long enough to talk to me any more. Maybe he stays at work because he prefers it there, prefers to be with someone clever and pretty, like that Carol.’

  ‘Don’t run yourself down. Gareth knows how bright you are. He understands why you never got to go to college.’

  Catrin looked away.

  David frowned. ‘Catrin, you have told him. Haven’t you?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘My mother told me. She and your mother were quite close, you know.’

  ‘What did she tell you?’

  ‘She told me that your mother was an alcoholic.’

  Catrin looked down, the beauty of the evening suddenly ruined. She thought of the cold, empty vodka bottle she had found in the drawer in her mother’s bedroom earlier. Hidden away all these years, but still there, waiting to remind her of a past she tried so hard to forget.

  ‘It’s alright,’ said David. ‘It’s alright to talk to me about it.’

  Catrin sighed, and sat back in the seat. It was almost a relief not to have to deny it.

  ‘I didn’t think anyone, apart from Dad, knew. When I met Gareth, she had just gone into rehab. She was much better. There was no need to tell him. She managed to stay sober for the first two years we were married. Then, of course, Aled had his accident. She hid away, drank in secret. Gareth didn’t see her much. I went round on my own to look after her. Then, suddenly, she had a heart attack. Just like that: she was gone.’ Catrin swallowed hard. ‘My lovely Mum had gone. To tell people that she’d died of a heart attack was so much easier than anything else. I wanted Gareth and my children to remember her as the bright, intelligent woman that she was.’

  ‘What was it like for you, growing up?’

  Catrin looked at David. Suddenly, she longed to talk.

  ‘She didn’t drink so much when I was little. It was more in my teens. Even then, she didn’t ever appear drunk when she was out. She was on loads of charity committees, went to church. She only drank heavily at home. She used to say, ‘Let’s make the sun come out’.’ Catrin could feel her lip trembling.

  ‘I remember the first time I was really scared by it. Dad was away. It was my first day at high school. I came home so excited to tell her all about it, show her my timetable, and tell her whose form I was in. And then I found her. She was unconscious. I was really scared. There was an empty bottle of vodka on the table. I kept shaking her until she came round. She started crying. It was awful. You know, you think your Mum is meant to look after you. She kept saying not to tell Dad, or he might leave her. Anyway, she was sick. I sorted her out. The next day she said sorry: it would never happen again.’

  ‘But–’

  ‘But it did. The only time she was nasty was when she ran out. She would insist I go to the shops and buy it for her.’

  ‘But you were under age.’

  ‘There was a local shop that would serve me. As I got older, I went to supermarkets because it was cheaper. I lied about my age. I remember once or twice being turned down. It was really embarrassing. I knew they assumed it was for me, but actually I preferred that than anyone knowing it was for my Mum.’
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  ‘You must have been worried a lot of the time–’

  ‘Yes. I would get up in the night, check on her. I was anxious a lot, and, of course, there was Aled. I would put him in front of the television and sort Mum out. I kept as much as I could from him.’

  ‘And your Dad?’

  ‘He went away a lot, even more once Aled was in boarding school. Before he came home, Mum would make me get rid of any bottles or cigarettes. She was scared he would leave her if he knew what she was doing.’

  ‘But he must have known.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I mean, she’d try much harder to hide her drinking when he was home, but he saw her unconscious a few times. It’s why he sent Aled to boarding school ’

  ‘But didn’t he help you or your Mum?’

  ‘He paid for her to go to rehab. She went a few times. It would be better for a time. I did get to do my O levels but that was all. When I met Gareth, she knew it was serious. She was pleased for me, went to rehab again, and said she was going to be a good grandmother. She was sober when we had Lowri. If only Aled hadn’t died–’

  ‘So, your mother’s drinking has affected your whole life?’

  ‘Yes. I was always watching, waiting, for something to go wrong. She was better when we came here to stay with my Nana Beth, but back in Cardiff it was awful. I called an ambulance a few times–’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I was scared, you know. I would plead with her to stop. She would cry, but then she always started again. That really hurt: it was like the drink was more important to her than I was.’

  ‘In a sense it must have felt like that. It can become as important as oxygen to an addict.’

  ‘But I so wanted her to stop. You know, I’d go home with other girls after school. Their mothers would be there, making the tea, chatting. I never took anyone back to mine. I was too frightened of what I’d find. Of course, they never understood, thought I was being unfriendly. Like, when I suddenly couldn’t go out. I couldn’t tell them it was because my mother was drunk, could I?’

  ‘What did the school do?’

  ‘They didn’t know. I lied, said I was ill; all sorts really. So I got rubbish reports. They just labelled me as a lazy kid. The only one who asked was my art teacher, but even he didn’t really want to know.’

  ‘So, you’ve gone all this time without talking about it?’

  ‘It’s better that way.’

  ‘Listen. Some parts of our past are painful, and it’s natural to want to hide them, but they don’t go away. You should be able to talk to people, at least those you trust about them. You know, own your own story, as they say.’

  Catrin took a cigarette out of her bag and lit it.

  ‘How long have you been smoking?’

  ‘I only bought these today. I haven’t smoked in years. You mustn’t tell Gareth. He’d be furious. I shouldn’t, should I? I mean, it’s bad for me. I know that.’

  Catrin sighed. ‘There are too many ghosts and memories here. I’ll be glad to get away.’

  ‘But the past will travel with you. It won’t leave you alone. The ghosts won’t rest. They’ll follow you around, whispering over your shoulder, nagging you.’

  Catrin shrugged and stood up. ‘I don’t know about that, but there are living people back at the house who need me, so I think I’d better get back.’

  They stood up and started to walk back towards the house.

  As they walked, a tall, sophisticated-looking woman passed them. She was wearing a long, flowing, white jumpsuit. She gave Catrin quite a shock. She told herself it was obviously not some kind of ghost, but wondered why a woman was going out, dressed like that, in the dark, on her own. She noticed her going and sitting on the bench they had just vacated. Catrin dismissed her. She was nothing to do with her and her family.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Monday 30th July 2012

  Catrin woke up to a quiet house again the next morning. She checked her phone: nothing from Gareth. She was pretty sure he wasn’t coming to the memorial but she wished so much that he was. She was dreading it. Having him next to her would have made so much difference. Also, Bethan needed him there. He should at least come for her. Catrin hoped he would have a change of heart and come.

  She felt Safi snuggled on her feet. Last night, Safi had come up with her. She had been too tired to go back and get the dog bed from downstairs. As she moved, Safi’s eyes opened and his tail began to wag. Wonderfully oblivious to the human troubles in the house, Safi was raring to go for another day.

  ‘Come on, then,’ Catrin said. ‘Let’s get on.’

  She put her dressing gown on and went downstairs. Safi went straight out into the garden. It was heating up for another sunny day, but still fresh with a breeze. She made a drink and toast, and sat in the garden with Safi, watching him sniffing the perimeter of the garden.

  Catrin was tired. She hadn’t slept well. So many worries spinning around in her head: why had Gareth gone off like that? She had never known him do such a thing. Was her marriage really in trouble? And Bethan: what was she to do about that?

  She took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. In the summer, this was her favourite time of day. She tried to play ‘fetch’ with Safi, but he was just like Lady had been. He wanted to chew and bury the ball rather than return it. After he had run off some energy, she sat down on the grass and he cuddled up on her lap. She stroked his ears, long and soft. He licked her hand.

  ‘You really are beautiful,’ she said to him. He turned over for her to tickle his tummy.

  She took him in and gave him his breakfast, then went up to shower.

  Catrin started to think about the day ahead, wondered if many people would come to the service. Eighteen years on was a long time to most people. This was hardly the most accessible place to come to. Holding it on a Monday would mean some people would need to take time off work to attend, so maybe it wouldn’t be that many after all.

  She sent a quick text to Gareth, just saying good morning, and put on some old clothes. As she walked along the passage she looked at the closed door to Aled’s room. She was curious as to what it looked like now. She pushed open the door, and was rather shocked to find the room was completely untouched. It had an almost shrine-like feel to it. It had been dusted, but nothing had been moved or put away, she guessed, since Aled had last stayed here. There were things in there from his childhood and teens. The walls were plastered with pictures in a way his room in Cardiff had never been. There were intricate sketches of Worm’s Head, mostly just pencil drawings. One, though, was an incredible picture, showing the shape of Worm’s Head in the fog, very dragon-like. Most of the walls, however, were covered in large posters of Welsh rugby players. Catrin knew that Aled had loved to watch and play rugby, but he had never had posters on his walls in Cardiff. Aled had made his own headings: ‘1977 Wales win the Triple Crown…again!’ Catrin recognised some of the players. At the time, everyone talked about the Welsh team, particularly Phil Bennett and Gareth Edwards. He even had a red Welsh rugby shirt pinned on the wall, now very faded. Then she looked more carefully: there were letters pinned up. Catrin read them. Some were dated in the 1970s when Aled had been at prep school. They were asking him to go for trials for the Welsh junior teams. Catrin had never known about this. However, there was one letter written when Aled must have been about fourteen. It was his headmaster saying that he had been approached for Aled to go training with the younger Welsh squad. Catrin was surprised. She had not realised that there had actually been a prospect of Aled doing that much with sport. As she looked around, the whole room was full of rugby memorabilia. She thought how strange it was that it was all here. None of it had been in Cardiff. She wandered around the room, and was about to open a drawer when a voice startled her.

  ‘What are you up to?’ her father asked.

  For some reason, Catrin felt really guilty for going into the room. ‘I, um, I came in to see what needed sorting out. Nothing has been touched.’

 
She noticed that her father had averted his eyes from the room.

  ‘I asked you not to go in there.’

  ‘Aled had a lot of rugby stuff here, didn’t he?’

  ‘He was good. You know, he could have played for Wales.’ Catrin could detect her father’s voice shaking.

  ‘There was a letter about him going for trials. I hadn’t realised. How did he get on?’

  ‘He never went in the end. Anyway, he was destined for architecture.’

  Catrin saw the raw sadness in her father’s face.

  ‘He would have been great, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘Yes. He had everything needed to be an outstanding architect. He was very good at sketching, drawing, the technical side. He was good at maths. He was made for architecture. He really had it all.’

  She saw her father swallow hard. It was so difficult to see how much it all still hurt.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Dad.’

  ‘Yes. Well, today is a good day to remember. Do you think Gareth will be back?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m sorry.’ Catrin coughed awkwardly, then said, ‘We have to talk about this business with Bethan. You’ve put me and Gareth in a very difficult position.’

  ‘I hadn’t expected Gareth to over-react like that. I never realised he had such a temper.’

  ‘He hasn’t usually. He’s very tired. But, Dad, I don’t want Bethan to go to America either, particularly on the talent thing. It’s not right for her.’

  ‘You shelter her too much.’

  ‘She wants to do composition.’

  ‘There’s no money in that, is there? This way, she could really get rich. Her future would be secure.’

  ‘It’s not all about money, though. Is it?’

  ‘It matters, you know that. Just because you’ve never had any dreams, any ambitions–’

  ‘I did once, you know, have dreams.’

  ‘You?’ Lloyd looked genuinely surprised.