‘Of course,’ Mattie replied, as the words of her long-suffering mechanic Steve rang in her ears: I’ve done all I can to get this thing roadworthy. But I can’t work miracles. If you push this van beyond what it can do, it’ll fail . . .
‘I see Reenie’s made herself at home already,’ Gil smiled, nodding over towards the singer. She was deep in conversation with a young couple at the next table. ‘More souls to add to her people collection. How does she do that? Just walk up to complete strangers and start a conversation?’
‘She loves meeting people. She said years of meeting adoring fans means she can chat to anyone. But I think she likes the interaction. She always commands an audience at Beauvale.’
‘I’ll bet.’
‘Actually, I think she gets lonely. It can’t be easy, going from being the toast of the town to a little old lady in a retirement village.’
The gruff-looking barman took their food order and started to prepare their drinks. Mattie was aware of Gil looking at her. ‘Is that part of the reason you agreed to this?’
‘Maybe. I think Reenie’s great. Infuriating, too, and more than a handful to look after, but she has a good heart. My grandfather used to say that the best people hid gold hearts beneath their skin. “The kind of gold that shines out, no matter how they try to conceal it”.’ She thought of young Joe Bell, travelling to the big city with a million dreams in his pockets, drawn into the Soho club scene by a sense of loyalty to Una. Had he considered himself as one of the golden-heart bearers?
‘Do you miss him?’
‘More than I can say. Even though at the end we weren’t speaking.’ She shrugged off his concern, not wanting to explain further. ‘Easy to be wise after the event.’
‘My grandad is the reason I run the club,’ Gil said, suddenly. ‘My brother Colm thinks I’m insane.’
‘Why?’
‘We’re losing money. Every week we get offers from developers wanting to buy us out. Colm thinks we’ve run Kendrick’s for long enough and should take the money. But I just can’t bear the thought of someone tearing the place down and building faceless apartments nobody can afford. Grandad was proud of that club. He worked hard to make it a success. To accept defeat now would be like betraying his memory.’
‘But I thought you agreed to the gig because of the money?’
‘I did. Because we need it to stay afloat. I called Colm this afternoon. Tickets are almost sold out. We haven’t had a full house for seven years. That’s why I asked to come with you. I have to make sure this gig happens.’
Mattie followed him to their table, her thoughts a blur.
There had been a moment, back when they’d first met in the club, when she’d thought she caught a glimpse of sadness in Gil’s soft green eyes. She’d dismissed it then, but now she wondered: had she misjudged his motives all along?
‘Ah, kids, let me introduce you to my new friends,’ Reenie announced as Mattie and Gil sat down. The young couple had moved from their table to join Reenie. ‘This is Kelvin and Pru. They’ve had a bit of an ordeal, by all accounts.’
The young man gave a shy smile. His companion hid behind a veil of vivid auburn hair. Everything about her was a closed fortress: arms folded into a shield across her body, legs crossed, hair falling onto her knee. The only indication she gave that she was involved in the conversation was a definite nod of her head. They seemed the opposite of each other – him open and her shut off – but had a closeness that seemed at odds with this. There was plenty of room on the bench seat even with five bodies, but the pair huddled together, knees and elbows touching, like the rows of paper cut-out dolls Mattie and Joanna used to make as children.
‘Tell them what happened. You won’t believe it.’
‘We hitched a lift with this bloke from Bristol. He said he’d take us back home to London, but then he wanted money. So we had to get out . . .’
‘Drove off with their stuff,’ Reenie pouted, angry on the couple’s behalf. ‘Money and all. Isn’t that so, Kelvin?’
Kelvin nodded. ‘I had a tenner in my back pocket and my iPhone in my hand. But everything else was in my bag.’
‘So the poor kids had to walk here. In this weather!’
‘He took your bags?’
The auburn curtain parted to reveal a pale face. ‘We left them,’ Pru said. ‘We jumped out at the traffic lights on the motorway island and he drove off with our stuff.’
‘That’s miles back!’ Mattie recalled the journey from the closed motorway junction along the darkened A-road. It had taken them well over an hour – how long must it have taken Kelvin and Pru, walking through driving rain? ‘Is there anyone we can call for you? At least let us buy you something to eat.’
‘My shout,’ Gil said, jumping up. ‘Anything you like.’
‘We’ll take you home,’ Reenie said.
And suddenly, Reenie Silver was centre-stage. Four pairs of eyes stared at her; two with shocked delight; two with utter horror.
‘Reenie,’ Mattie hissed, ‘what are you doing?’
‘I’m offering these poor young things a bit of a hand.’
‘A bit of a hand is lending them money to catch a train, not bringing them with us.’
‘We’re going that way, aren’t we?’
‘Not until Thursday. And we have to get over to Crickhowell and back first.’
Reenie raised an indignant chin. ‘Then the kids get a bit of a holiday into the bargain.’
‘This is insane! We don’t have time for this. We’re late as it is, and the detour tonight won’t have helped.’
‘Exactly!’ The old lady snapped her fingers. ‘So we don’t have time to drop them off at a train station, like you say. This is the most time-efficient option.’
‘You are unbelievable.’
‘I’m not leaving them.’
‘Reenie – do you want this gig to happen? Because if you do, we have to leave soon. Without extra passengers.’
Reenie’s pale grey eyes darkened. ‘I said they’re coming with us. Now I don’t care if you like it or not. The fact is, I’m paying for this trip. I am more than happy to give them a room for the night. All you have to do is drive.’
Mattie felt sick, as if the slate floor of the pub had begun to buckle beneath her. Reenie’s directness stung, blindsiding her. She took a step back, hurt and resentment like she’d felt after Grandpa Joe’s ultimatum burning in her stomach. ‘Fine,’ she stated. ‘Have it your way. If we miss the gig, it will be down to you.’
She didn’t wait to see the effect of her insinuation, turning her back on Reenie to march outside. As the driving rain pelted her head, she heard footsteps behind her.
‘Mattie. Slow down.’
‘The woman is impossible! Did you see what she just did?’
‘She was out of order, sure. But it looks as if we’ve been overruled.’
‘We, Gil? I wasn’t aware you’d expressed an opinion.’
‘Mattie, come on. You have a hard enough time controlling Reenie. She’s hardly likely to listen to me.’
‘Great. Well, thanks for your support.’
‘Look, I know I’m the last person to support Reenie, but don’t be too hard on her tonight.’
‘Excuse me? Did you hear what she just said?’
‘Mattie, she just lost somebody. Someone she’d expected to see. All of her apologies mean nothing because Chuck’s not here to hear them. That’s got to hurt. Time ran out for them. Maybe she sees this as a way of making amends in his absence.’
Like I’m doing for Grandpa Joe, Mattie thought. All she’d seen was the insult. Could there have been more to Grandpa Joe’s offence, too? She felt weary, as if the raindrops were lead weights falling on her shoulders. ‘I just want to get to Crickhowell. We’ve a long way to go, and it’s getting late.’
Gil reached out and touched her arm – a small but deliberate act of solidarity – and Mattie no longer felt alone.
‘I’ve never been to Wales before,’ Kelvin sai
d as they drove across the Severn Bridge. Lights across the Severn Estuary shone in the dark waters on either side of them, and the young man appeared intent on capturing every moment on his phone camera. Beside him, Pru sat in stoic silence. Mattie couldn’t work out whether she was asleep or just hiding behind the protective shield of red hair. They were certainly a contrast. Kelvin chattered incessantly, Pru brooded. Her trust in him was clear to see, but Mattie wondered how much of it was ever verbalised. They didn’t seem to be a couple, but the way Kelvin looked at his friend betrayed feelings he obviously assumed were hidden.
‘You been to Wales before, eh, Kendrick?’ Reenie asked over her shoulder.
‘My uncle used to live in Harlech,’ he replied. ‘That kept us London kids in exciting holidays for a few years. Between that and my dad’s side of the family in Cork, we had quite a broad Celtic experience.’
‘You’d need it, livin’ in the Big Smoke,’ Reenie said. ‘My third husband was Welsh, actually.’
‘Now, this I have to hear.’
‘Well, hear it you shall, Gil. I was down in the South of France holidaying with a few friends, when darling Tom Jones turned up with this chap. Friend of his, very Welsh, built like Superman’s better-looking brother. I’d just finished my second divorce and was feeling a bit sorry for myself, you know? My friends egged me on, and TJ was all, “You’re all work and no play, woman. Have a bit of fun!” Well, when the great Voice from the Valleys tells you to have fun, you do as you’re told. It was only meant to be a fling, but Davey followed me back home and after a while I didn’t bother telling him to leave.’
‘How long were you married for?’
‘Oh, it was eighteen months or so. Turned out he was a bit too fond of el vino and none too happy when I asked him to choose between the bottle and me. Anyway, he went back to the Land of his Fathers and as far as I know he’s still there.’
Mattie listened with passive frustration. She was still smarting at the way the old lady had spoken to her earlier. It was as if battle lines had been drawn where before no conflict existed. Reenie sat beside her in the front seat, nodding as Kelvin launched into another long-winded conversation. Did she know how her words had hit Mattie? Did she even care?
Gil was doing his best to pour oil on troubled waters, his too-bright replies to Kelvin edged with nervous laughter. Maybe he was right: perhaps Reenie saw the young people as a way of finding redemption in the wake of Chuck’s death. Mattie resolved to talk to her about it in the morning. Nobody needed an atmosphere for the final meeting of the trip.
They arrived at the beautiful old stone hotel on the edge of Crickhowell just before four p.m., the stormy day brightening around them. Gil had called ahead during the journey and, though no more rooms were available, he had managed to arrange for fold-out beds to be added to his room and Mattie’s room for Kelvin and Pru respectively. Now, he helped Reenie inside to check in. As Pru followed them, Kelvin offered to help Mattie with the luggage.
‘I’m sorry we crashed your trip,’ he rushed, reaching into the back of Rusty to pull out Gil’s holdall. ‘But I appreciate this so much. I’d given up hope of us getting back.’
‘Don’t you have family you could have called?’
Kelvin’s pale skin turned a startling pink. ‘They don’t know I’m here. My mum thinks I’m on a climbing weekend in the Lakes.’
‘And Pru’s family?’
He let out a sigh. ‘They’re the reason she ran in the first place. She’s always fought with her mum as long as I’ve known her, but six months ago they had a huge row. I mean, epic. I’ve never heard Pru so angry as she was the night she called me. She was already in Manchester by then, kipping on a friend’s floor. I thought she’d be okay, you know, stay there until the dust settled and then come home. But she didn’t.’
‘You stayed in touch?’
He nodded. ‘She’s my best friend. I couldn’t let her do that alone. She kept telling me she was all right – she’d got a job at a café and was sorting out proper accommodation. But then on Friday she called me and said it had all been a lie. She’d been chucked out of her mate’s place, her money was running out and she was scared. Terrified. The guy she’d started seeing had turned nasty – she wouldn’t give me details, but I guessed the rest. She said she was going to try hitching a lift to the Lakes. There was no way I was letting her do that. So I got a lift to Manchester with my uni mate and went to get her. Here, let me get that.’
Mattie handed him her rucksack and locked the camper van. ‘So why hitch-hike home? It’s so dangerous.’
‘I know. We were idiots. I just thought I could protect her . . . Honestly, I can’t thank you enough for helping us.’
Mattie chided herself for feeling aggrieved. ‘You’re welcome. Where do you need dropping off?’
‘I’ll call Mum tomorrow and tell her what’s really happening. She’ll rip a strip off me, but I know she’ll come and get us. If you could get us to Beaconsfield services on the M40, that would be great.’
Once they had left bags in their rooms, Reenie announced she was taking Pru and Kelvin for afternoon tea.
‘We have lots to discuss,’ she called as they headed for the restaurant. ‘And cultural experiences to catch up on. Can you believe these kids have never tried clotted cream or Welsh cakes? What kind of a life is that?’
Mattie and Gil were left side by side in the hotel foyer.
‘I guess that just leaves us, then. You weren’t planning on another epic snooze, were you?’
‘No, I think I’m sorted in the sleeping department, thanks. Come on. Let’s get away for a while.’
They left the hotel and walked on recently rained-on roads and pavements towards the pretty market town of Crickhowell. The air felt fresh from the earlier shower, the smell of flowers from hanging baskets and wet earth mingling with wood smoke from the chimneys of grey slate cottages. Mattie had always loved this about Wales: the way the countryside seemed renewed after rain. Despite it being a weekday and children being back at school, the town was filled with visitors drawn to its charms on the edge of the Brecon Beacons. Gil suggested they find somewhere for coffee, but Mattie refused.
‘We’ve been stuck inside rooms, hotels and camper vans for days now,’ she argued. ‘We’re in a beautiful place neither of us has visited before. And you really don’t need any more caffeine today. Let’s just walk?’
‘I might not be very nice without caffeine,’ Gil warned. ‘I might be terrible company.’
Mattie grinned back, enjoying the game. ‘I’ll take my chances.’
‘Well, okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ He caught her hand, his fingers lazily curling around hers. ‘Um, is this all right?’
Gil Kendrick was a man of many surprises. His vulnerability was unexpected and utterly charming, and even now, as he laughed at his own question, Mattie felt drawn to him. This side of him wasn’t something the others would ever see, of that Mattie was certain. It was as if she saw an undiscovered path snaking up around a mountain that only she could take.
‘Yes. Thanks for asking.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s been a while since I last did this. Running the club means I haven’t had much time for dating. I’m not sure I can remember what to do.’
‘You’re doing fine so far.’
‘Oh well, that’s comforting to know.’ He took a deep breath and smiled. ‘It’s gorgeous here, isn’t it? My brother always raves about this part of the world. He comes here with his mountain-biking buddies. I think they stay in Abergavenny. He lives for his weekends away. If it wasn’t for the club I think he’d be out of London like a shot.’
‘Has he always been into that kind of thing?’
‘Colm? No. Bit of a midlife crisis, only he had it ten years early. I was always the active one growing up. You know, it’s weird: we’ve totally changed places in the last few years.’
‘Is he older than you?’
‘Same age.’
Mattie looked at him
. ‘You’re twins?’
‘Non-identical. It confuses people all the time. When you meet him you probably won’t believe me, but it’s true. He’s older than me by four minutes. That buys him no superiority rights in our family, though. He’s far more laid-back than me, maybe because he’d already won the “older brother” prize, so he didn’t need to do anything else. I, on the other hand, have spent a lifetime feeling I have something to prove.’
‘In my family being the oldest sibling wins you the dubious privilege of sorting out everyone else’s problems. My sister Joanna takes it all in her stride, but I grew up being glad it wasn’t my job.’
‘Do you get on?’
‘Oh yes. We love each other to bits. I’m sharing my house with her and my niece and nephew at the moment, which is lovely. She’s managing my shop while I’m here, actually.’ They had reached a footpath that led down to the riverbank and ducked beneath low-hanging elder trees to follow it.
‘Hmm, Colm’s holding the fort for me right now, which makes me keen to get home tomorrow.’ His eyes grew wide and he stopped walking to face her. ‘Not that I’m – I mean, I’m not in a hurry to leave this – us – whatever it is that’s happening here.’
Mattie laughed. ‘It’s okay. I’m missing my life, too. Being on the road has been fun, but I want to get back to normality.’ Whatever that is, she thought. Because, after this adventure, anything felt possible . . .
‘Mmm, your own bed,’ Gil said, as if describing the most desirable luxury. ‘Your own blend of coffee. With more than a thimbleful of milk to make it with.’
‘Ooh, decent teabags,’ Mattie agreed, loving the joke as her fingers rested comfortably between Gil’s. ‘And beds that feel like only you’ve slept in them recently.’
‘Yeah, and pillows that don’t either swallow your head or crack your skull. It’s all very well wrapping a bit of cardboard around the pillows that boast about you having a “choice”. If it’s uncomfortable versus violent that isn’t much of a choice.’
‘You know, I didn’t realise about the cardboard thing the first night in Alnwick,’ Mattie admitted, remembering her consternation at her pillows feeling strange for the first couple of hours of trying to sleep on them.
Searching for a Silver Lining Page 23
