by Cathy Ace
Well, I never, thought Nan, then she moved to the end of the bar to answer the phone that had started to ring.
‘Who is it?’ she snapped.
‘It’s Mair.’
Annoyed that she was unable to find an excuse to be in on the action upstairs, Nan was even more irked that now she was expected to take a personal phone call in the bar. ‘What is it, Mair? I’m trying to run a pub here, you know.’
‘The vicar just phoned me to say John Watkins has only gone and had a heart attack, in Australia.’
‘No.’
‘He has. The son phoned the vicar just now. The vicar said it was only a minor one, like the one John had in the hospital here when they told him Dilys was dead. But I think it’s sad he’s gone all that way, and now he might not have time to enjoy being there.’
‘They haven’t even had a sniff about selling the house, I hear,’ replied Nan.
‘I expect someone from outside will buy it. Do it up to rent to holidaymakers, probably. Dreadful, isn’t it? Another good house will go by the by.’
‘It is. So will they bury John there, or send him back here? Did they say anything to the vicar about that?’
Mair sounded shocked. ‘I don’t think they expect him to die, Nan. And they took Dilys’s ashes with them, remember? So at least the son will have them both near where he lives, in some form or another.’
Nan pounced. ‘That’s about the only thing the son did that suggests any compassion for his parents at all. I still can’t get over the fact they didn’t even have a service for Dilys’s funeral here in the village. And we haven’t seen hide nor hair of John since the night they took her away in the ambulance and he got in to be with her.’
Mair’s voice softened, to the extent it ever could. ‘Well, to be fair, he was by her bedside for the whole week she lingered, then he had that heart attack himself. The son told the vicar his father wasn’t up to clearing out the house, so he got that company to do it for them while John was in the hospital, then on the mend with them in that house they rented up near Mynydd Bach Common. And then off they all went back to Australia, once the doctors gave John the all-clear to fly. So what can you expect?’
‘I expected John Watkins to come and at least say goodbye to us all. Known him for years, we have. And he must have understood how difficult it would be for some of us to get to Morriston crematorium for the service for Dilys there. Thoughtless, I call it.’
‘Well, now he’s had another attack. At least the son thought to get word to the vicar about that.’ Mair sounded miffed.
‘Why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why did the son bother to tell the vicar about it?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe he thought people would like to know his dad wasn’t well?’
‘What are we going to do? Send a card?’
Nan heard Mair sigh heavily. ‘Well, I’ll say bye for now then, Nan. At least I’ve told you. That’s all I wanted to do.’
‘Bye.’ Nan hung up.
Helen
What’s that song from The Sound of Music called? Something about doing something good in her youth or childhood?
Helen couldn’t recall the details, but was congratulating herself on her daughter’s interview with the police earlier in the evening. Sadie was a star, there was no question about it; mature beyond her years in many ways – but still her little girl in so many others – she’d answered the questions she’d been asked politely and fully, and the police had clearly been impressed by her composure. They’d looked a bit disappointed that she hadn’t been able to give them any information at all about drugs, but Helen hadn’t expected her to be able to do so.
Nestling into her pillow, Helen thanked everything that was holy for her Sadie; given all the temptations surrounding youngsters, and the horrible things going on in the world, she couldn’t have hoped for a better daughter. She’d been so lucky. She knew from the conversations she read in her chat rooms that not everyone was so blessed; children, and especially teenagers, seemed to be the cause of great stress for so many who turned to the Internet for advice, guidance, and the solace gained from knowing you weren’t completely alone.
Helen had read the email Sadie’s school had sent, had dutifully acknowledged its receipt, and had even taken time to follow some of the links it contained. She understood why they’d sent it, and thought it was a good idea to offer some sources of information for parents who – unlike her – might be worried that their children were experimenting with drugs.
She’d taken the chance to talk to Sadie about the whole matter after the police had left, and was in no doubt her daughter was telling the truth when she’d confided in her mother that she knew some kids at her school did manage to get hold of drugs, but that mostly they only smoked a bit of cannabis. Helen hadn’t mentioned the fact she’d smoked it herself at one time, agreeing instead with her daughter that only ‘idiots’ did so.
She was also pleased that Sadie seemed excited by the idea of attending university – at last – and had been doubly thrilled to see her daughter’s enthusiasm for the offer she’d received from Swansea. She’d have her baby at home for a few years yet, safe and sound. It was a relief, and not just a financial one.
Sadie had always been good at handing in all her homework on time, but now she seemed to have finally focused on getting some proper revising done for her A levels. Helen knew it wasn’t going to be easy for her to get the points she needed, but she was bright, and Helen hoped her hard work would pay off.
If it didn’t, Helen couldn’t imagine what would happen. She wanted her child to reach her full potential, to have all the chances she’d had, but then to follow through and actually take them.
And then there she was, thinking about bloody Bob again, just as she was trying to get off to sleep.
Maybe she’d try the whale-song tape.
14th February
Nan
I can’t believe it, thought Nan when she stuck her head into Sadie’s room. She’s got it in here. She’s no right to hoard towels like that.
She’d been looking for the big, old, blue towel she liked – because it had become so thin and absorbent after years of use – and there it was hanging on the end of Sadie’s unmade bed. She knew the girl had almost missed the bus to school that morning, but she hadn’t expected to find this sort of state in her room. She’d have a word with Helen about it, that’s what she’d do.
Grabbing the towel off the foot of the bed, she noticed something pink poking out from beneath Sadie’s pillow.
What’s that? Never been a girl for pink things, Sadie.
The envelope was in her hand before she knew it, then she could do nothing but take out the card it contained. On the front of it was a cartoon puppy carrying a giant heart. Inside was printed: ‘My heart belongs to you, my Valentine’ and it was simply signed with dozens of Xs and the initials AB.
Nan’s heart pounded. She sat on the end of the bed, feeling a bit dizzy.
That bloody Aled bloody Beynon was after her Sadie.
Nan threw back her head and shouted, ‘No, no, no, no, no.’
She heard Helen running up the stairs. ‘Mum? Mum, are you okay?’ Where are you, Mum?’
Nan barked, ‘I’m in Sadie’s room. Come in here and look at this. Quick.’
As her daughter rushed through the door her face showed concern, then surprise when she saw what was in her mother’s hand.
‘Why are you in here, Mum? You know what Sadie’s like about her room being her private place. We’ve talked about this before. And what’s that you’re holding? Where did you get that?’
‘Don’t start,’ said Nan, once she’d caught her breath. ‘That daughter of yours lives under my roof, eating the food my hard work provides for her. All I did was come in to get a towel, and I found this.’ She threw the card at her daughter. ‘That Aled Beynon’s sent it to her. Aled bloody Beynon. I won’t have it. This has to be nipped in the bud. I’ll fire him. Bar him
from the pub altogether. I don’t want him anywhere near her.’
Nan felt her hands shaking with rage, the way they always had when her dead husband used to get the way he did. She didn’t want Aled near Sadie anymore. However much she’d enjoyed bossing Gwen’s grandson around, it wasn’t worth it if this sort of thing was going to happen. She tried to calm herself by counting backwards, but it wasn’t working.
She watched as her daughter bent down to pick up the card, and read what it said.
‘See?’ said Nan, feeling vindicated. ‘AB. Aled Beynon. It’s got to be him.’
Helen still looked puzzled. ‘Oh come on, Mum, it’s just a card. Aled’s a nice boy. He and Sadie have known each other all their lives. They’re young. It could be a lot worse, you know. She could have got a card from Stew, who was born in England.’
Nan finally felt she had the strength to stand. ‘If you’re making a joke of this, you’re playing a dangerous game, my girl. Aled Beynon isn’t just the wrong boy for her, he’s the worst possible boy for her. If there’s something going on between them – more than just this card – there’ll be trouble. I’ve warned her about him. There’s things I know about his family you couldn’t possibly imagine.’
Nan was horrified that her daughter had the cheek to say, ‘I think you’re overreacting, Mum.’
That was it! ‘Overreacting, am I? Well, just you wait.’ Nan had a plan, and she knew exactly how she’d put it into action when Aled arrived for his shift that evening.
Until then, she was quite happy to stew on it.
Helen
Completely dumbfounded by her mother’s outburst, Helen took herself downstairs into the pub kitchen to empty the dishwasher. She heard the post clatter through the letterbox, and automatically picked it up from the doormat. She noticed the card among the bills immediately, and was surprised to see it was addressed to her.
The envelope was thick, heavily embossed. She opened it curiously. It was a Valentine’s card. She checked the envelope again. Yes, it was definitely addressed to her, not Sadie. She opened it, and her heart began to thump as music played. It was the chorus of ‘I’ll be watching you’ by The Police. It was signed ‘Bob x’.
Helen couldn’t feel her feet, nor her hands. Everything she’d been holding fell to the floor. She reached out for the wall to steady herself, then pressed her body flat against it. As soon as she could move, she went to the window, and peered out.
Not again. Dear God, please, not again.
Sadie
Today has been the worst day of my life. I don’t know how I can face tomorrow. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just end it, tonight. I can’t see a way forward. Not at all.
It started well enough. I had Aled’s card under my pillow all night, then I opened it first thing this morning. It was the best possible way to start Valentine’s Day. I must have got a bit carried away, because I took too long in the bathroom and almost missed the bus. Aled wasn’t on it this morning; the past couple of weeks he’s been getting a lift in with Stew. Stew’s parents bought him a car for his eighteenth birthday, and he drives Aled to school now. They can go faster than the bus, so they leave later. I miss seeing Aled on the bus every day, but sometimes he gets it just so we can be together. I love him so much. I’ll be his Valentine forever, and ever.
School was the normal rubbish, then I came home and did my homework, like I usually do, but there was something going on between Nan and Mam, I could tell. They kept looking at each other, like dogs circling before a fight breaks out. I didn’t know what it was then, but I found out as soon as Aled got here for his shift. I could hear it all start from upstairs.
Nan shouted at Aled. No – she screamed at him – that he was fired. Just like that. Fired. Told him he had to keep his distance from me, and then threw a handful of money at him. I’d crept downstairs by then, so I saw that bit.
Aled was as confused as I was, but he gave me a look, and didn’t say anything. He even started to put his coat on. Just like that. Mam actually had to hold Nan back, or I think she would have hit him. Nan. Hitting out at Aled. I couldn’t believe it.
Then, before he’d even had time to open the door, there was a police car with all its lights flashing right outside the pub, and in came that Jenkins and Stanley duo, and they told Aled he had to go with them to answer some questions.
That shut Nan and Mam up; but I was just standing there, at the bottom of the stairs, staring. I didn’t know what to do.
Jenkins said something about how he wanted to question him about the death of Dean Hughes. Then he went on about some other stuff. I couldn’t take it in.
‘Who’s Dean Hughes?’ asked Nan, which was exactly what I was thinking.
‘I’m not at liberty to say,’ was all that idiot Jenkins said back.
‘Was it him dead up on the hill last year?’ asked Nan.
That was a good call, I reckon, because the Stanley woman says, ‘I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.’
One of the policemen in uniform said to the other one, ‘I wonder how many dead bodies they have down here?’ then Jenkins told him to shut up. Spoke volumes, that did.
They marched my darling Aled out of the front door. Thank God they didn’t put him in handcuffs, or anything like that.
I ran out after them, of course, with Mam trying to grab onto me. All I could do was shout, ‘Don’t say anything, Aled. Not one word. I’ll phone your grannie,’ then he was gone. Just like that.
Mam hugged me. I cried, of course, and I could see people poking their heads out of their doors to see what was going on.
I don’t get it. Aled gone?
Nan was horrible to me, like she can be. ‘I’ve always told you he’s the wrong boy for you,’ she said. God that woman’s a bitch. I hate her so much.
What can I do? I can’t go on without Aled. He’s my life. If I take all Nan’s tablets – the ones she thinks I don’t know about – I could end it all right now.
I could leave a note, saying the actions of the police meant I had to do it. That would show them. I can’t go on without Aled; he’d understand that.
All I want to do is to be cwtched up, here on my bed, holding Mrs Hare close to my heart. She’s my solace when I can’t get out onto the hillside. I’ve had her since I was very small, so she’s mainly bald, but I like to hold her close anyway.
I wish there was a lock on my bedroom door, but Nan’s never let me have one. If there was, I could lock myself in now, then they’d know how upset I am. As it is, I don’t think they’ve got any idea. Gone bonkers down in the pub tonight, it has; so many people coming in to find out what happened. Nan’s in her bloody element, of course, telling everyone Aled’s killed someone – this Dean Hughes, the person they found on the hill. And she’s going on and on about how Gwen Beynon shouldn’t have been allowed to raise him after his mother died, then reminding everyone how that happened – drugs.
To listen to Nan you’d think Aled’s been wandering around the village stoned out of his brain all the time killing people right, left, and center, that his mother was a total junkie, and his grannie is an evil woman who raised him specifically to murder people. God Nan’s a bitch. How can she do this to Aled? My Aled.
I bet Mam needs me in the kitchen down there; with just her and Nan in the bar there’s no one to do food at all. If I clean myself up a bit and go down, pretending to be all nice and helpful, maybe I’ll have the chance to speak up for Aled.
Mam phoned Aled’s grannie to tell her what had happened, then she phoned the vicar, so he could go over to Green Cottage to offer his support. Nan said Gwen doesn’t deserve any support. Maybe I could go over there later on, to see how she’s doing. Find out what’s happening with Aled. She’d know, if anyone does.
That’s what I’ll do – be helpful downstairs, be involved. There’s no point killing myself if I can actually help Aled. Maybe the police will realize they’ve made a mistake by tomorrow and let him out. I wonder how long he has to stay there? I hope
he doesn’t say anything until they give him someone to advise him; they twist everything you say, the police do. He could end up making everything very bad if he says the wrong thing.
15th February
Helen
Helen could only categorize her day as totally weird. It had all started when Sadie refused to go to school, and now here she was, alone in the pub, because her mother had gone to talk to the vicar.
Helen had ended up having to drive Sadie to Killay herself because their argument about her needing to attend classes had dragged on long past the time when the bus had left. Then, having taken the chance to nip into Swansea Market straight afterwards – to pick up some supplies she needed for the pub at the weekend – Helen had bumped into her old counsellor from years ago; the one she’d liked, but who’d caught her at the wrong time to be of any real use, because she hadn’t been ready to face the truth about Bob back then.
Chatting over the cauliflowers, they’d decided to stop for a coffee, something Helen never did, because she usually didn’t have the time. But she’d been looking for an excuse to stay out of her mother’s hair for a while longer – her still being in such a tizzy about Aled Beynon and his grandmother – so she’d taken the chance encounter as an opportunity to act like a normal human being for a change.
She hadn’t meant to stay for so long, but it seemed that once she started chatting, she just couldn’t stop. Oh dear.
Thinking back to that hour, as she dusted the bottles displayed on the bar’s glass shelves, Helen couldn’t remember exactly what she had talked about, but she knew she felt a great deal better for having done so.
To her shame, she realized she’d let it slip that she’d received a Valentine’s card from Bob, and had even told Betty – the counsellor had told her to call her that when they’d first met – how that made her feel.
