by Chrys Cymri
And yet again I stripped off and shoved clothes into the washing machine. No doubt the jacket would be a write off, but at least I could put it into textile recycling without worrying about the smell. I placed Clyde into the tub in the family bathroom, went to my bedroom to grab my dressing gown, and returned to give him the wash he so desperately needed.
‘TARDIS,’ Clyde said approvingly as I towelled him off.
I glanced down at my blue and white dressing gown. ‘Yes, Clyde, it’s designed to look like the TARDIS. Last year’s Christmas present from James.’ I placed him on the closed toilet lid and took a seat on the floor. ‘We need to talk about that word you used earlier.’
‘Word?’
‘You know what I mean,’ I said sternly. ‘It was very rude. Clyde, you can’t say things like that any more. You’re a role model.’
‘Role model,’ he repeated, rolling the words around his mouth as if he were tasting something new.
‘For all those snail sharks who’ve come from the Community and the Nation. They look up to you.’
Orange and green pulsed through his body. ‘No wings. Not special.’
‘Oh, Clyde.’ I picked him up and hugged him to my chest. ‘It doesn’t matter if you have wings or not. You’ve always been special. We, your family, we knew that. And those snails know it.’
‘Role model.’ He wriggled, and I extended my arms so he could look at me. ‘Not easy.’
‘Not, it’s not. But you’ll do well.’ I rubbed his shell. ‘I know you will.’
‘How?’
Uncertainly was trickling yellow along his tentacles. ‘Because you’re you.’ His colour didn’t change. ‘Because you’re Clyde.’ Still no change. ‘Well, because, well, I’m proud of you and, you know, I guess, well, yes, in any way that matters, you’re my son.’
Blue and purple suffused his body, chased by bright pink. ‘Mam,’ he agreed. And I put him down so I could grab some toilet tissue to blow my nose.
<><><><><><>
After Tuesday’s excitement, it was almost a relief to devote most of Wednesday to catching up with paperwork. I booked a meeting with the Curate Training Officer, rewrote the worship rotas to ensure that Rosie, Skylar, and I took equal turns, and worked through an email from Holly which listed all of the parishioners who needed a visit from their vicar.
No snails, gryphons, or cabinet ministers disturbed my lie in on Thursday morning. Fortified by a good night’s sleep, I was ready and waiting outside when Peter’s Volvo came down my drive.
‘Cute car,’ he said as I slid into the passenger seat.
‘Skylar’s,’ I explained.
‘I’ve yet to meet this new curate of yours.’
‘You don’t meet Skylar, you experience her.’
‘Thanks for the text, by the way,’ he said as we started towards Statford-upon-Avon. ‘How exactly did you take care of the manticore?’
I’d had ample time to regret the quick Manticore no longer an issue! which I’d sent off Tuesday evening. ‘We convinced him to go back to Lloegyr.’
‘Which thin place?’
This question was bound to come. ‘One not far away.’
‘But Raven got rid of the one near your house.’
Bad enough that Peter already knew that the blood of a search dragon could close up a thin place. He’s going to be your husband, I argued with myself. You can trust him. He can keep this secret, too. ‘It seems that lefty snail sharks can create air thin places.’
I watched the knuckles of Peter’s hands whiten as his hands tightened on the steering wheel. ‘When did you find that out?’
‘Just recently,’ I quickly reassured him. ‘I wasn’t certain about it myself, but Clyde opened up a thin place from my garden to the moors in Lloegyr. It was really useful, actually, because we were able to convince the manticore that the grazing was better on the other side of the crossing.’
‘But what else might come through?’ We’d stopped at a red light, so Peter was able to glance over at me. ‘That’s the problem when you remove a barrier. You lose control over who might cross over.’
‘Mostly just snail sharks, really.’
‘I don’t find that very comforting.’ At my noise of protest, Peter added, ‘They’re not all like Clyde, Penny. You know what they’re capable of.’
‘They’re under strict instructions,’ I said. ‘They know they’re not to eat dogs, cats, or babies. In fact, I’m spending a small fortune buying them turkey and chicken.’
‘Exactly how many snails are there in your back garden?’
‘Around a hundred. But more than half of them are pups.’
‘Which will grow up to be adults,’ Peter said grimly. ‘How much is it going to cost to feed a hundred German shepherd sized snails? And how are they all going to fit in your garden?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘But Clyde seems to feel responsible for them. We brought the pups from the breeding pens in the Nation. A lot of them were in a very bad way.’
‘That’s what you get in a totalitarian state. The leaders live well, and their citizens suffer.’
‘Clyde paid a high price to end all that,’ I said. ‘And he’s now trying to help the ones which were left behind. Protecting the weak. Isn’t that what police officers do?’
‘There’s a vast difference between protecting humans and protecting snail sharks.’
I waited for a moment to ensure that my voice was under control. ‘To me, there isn’t.’
Silence for a few minutes. Peter finally broke it with a sigh. ‘We’ve never really agreed about Clyde, have we? That’s fine. He’s part of your life, and I accept that. But I think you can understand why I might not want a rabble of snail sharks living in my back garden? Particularly if we have children--if we have children come over and visit.’
‘So,’ I said quickly, ‘remind me how many children your sister has?’
‘Alice and Henry have two. Katherine is eight, and Luke is four.’ Peter chuckled. ‘Luke’s a real handful. Right now, he likes to climb. Trees, furniture, the garden fence, anything he can find. I think he’ll be summiting Everest by the time he’s twelve.’
‘And Katherine?’
‘She’s much quieter.’ The tension in the car eased. Discussing his nephew and niece was obviously a happy topic for Peter. ‘A real bookworm. She loves dragons. Alice says her room is full of dragon posters, dragon toys, and no matter what Lego kit you give her, she’ll turn it into a dragon.’
‘Has she ever seen a dragon, do you think?’
‘I suppose it’s possible, she’s still young enough. But then, you loved dragons long before you met one, right?’
I nodded. ‘I have a long list of books I can recommend.’
‘You two are going to hit it off. Can’t wait for you to meet her.’
‘And the rest of the family. After,’ I reminded him, ‘the matinee. And some lunch.’
I’d not been to the theatre for years. Alan had never been that interested, and James had declared watching a play ‘Boring’ the one and only time I’d taken him. So it was good to sit next to someone who paid rapt attention to King Lear’s monologues and wanted to discuss the performances during the intermission.
‘We should do this more often,’ Peter said later that afternoon when we’d returned to the car. ‘It’s only about an hour’s drive from your house.’
‘You won’t get any complaints from me,’ I agreed, warm both from our bistro lunch and a glass of red wine during the interval. ‘How far is it to your sister’s?’
‘We should be there by six.’
We drove through a new housing estate. The small trees struggled valiantly to put forth green leaves, and the grass was still patchy. The road awaited its final layer of asphalt, and the Volvo bumped over the exposed man-hole covers.
The house was the standard four-bedroomed box, with a built in single garage. An attempt had been made to vary the outward décor throughout the street, and Alice’s house had
mock Tudor black timbers breaking up the white front.
We parked on the road, and Peter retrieved a bottle of wine from the boot. I reached for jacket lapels, which I didn’t have, and instead patted down my grey fleece.
‘You look great,’ Peter told me as I tucked stray hairs behind my ears. ‘Besides, you’ll love my sister. Everyone does.’
The door opened before he could ring the bell. ‘Petey!’ The woman standing at the threshold was browner than her brother, obviously taking after the darker of their two parents. Her hair was black and frizzy, and locks bounced as she pulled Peter into a hug.
‘Alice, my ribs aren’t made of steel, you know,’ Peter grunted.
‘As if little old me could break you,’ Alice said as she let go. ‘It’s just been so long. And you must be Penny. It’s wonderful to finally meet you. Please, come in. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. Just enough time to try this wine!’
The smell of roast chicken filled the hallway. I hung back and caught Peter’s sleeve. ‘Is it…?’
He grinned. ‘Don’t worry. I told them you only eat free range.’
A man straightened from the oven as we walked into the kitchen. He flung a tea towel over his broad shoulder and held out a hand. ‘I’m Henry. Nice to meet you.’
His hand engulfed mine. Henry was tall, light brown, and had the frame of a rugby player. I caught myself trying to guess his ethnicity, and gave myself a furious telling off. ‘And you, Henry.’
‘Petey’s brought wine,’ Alice said, handing it over to her husband. ‘Do you want to do the honours?’
Henry narrowed his eyes. ‘School night, missus.’
‘Special occasion, mister.’
‘Yup, there you go,’ Henry said cheerfully, ‘I should know better than to argue. Alice always wins. Secret of a happy marriage, you two. Just in case you want to take notes.’
We each had a glass in hand when a young boy, the same light brown as his father, pushed a toy truck into the room. ‘This is Luke,’ Alice said. He looked up at the sound of his name. ‘And Katherine will come down when I can tear her away from her latest book.’
Peter dropped his voice to a mock-confidential whisper. ‘Penny knows all about dragons. I’m sure Kate will love to talk to her.’
‘Dragonriders of Pern and all that,’ I said quickly. ‘She’s probably a bit too young for those, but I can make some other suggestions.’
We assembled around the large table at one end of the kitchen. Alice had to shout three times up the stairs before Katherine came down. She looked like a younger version of her mother, and it took me a moment to realise that she was clutching a book in her hand. I had a quick glimpse of the title. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. I gave the girl a smile of approval. ‘Who’s your favourite character?’ I asked as she took a seat on my right.
Katherine stared at me as if I had asked the dumbest question she’d heard all week. ‘The mouse, of course.’
‘Reepicheep!’ I agreed. ‘Bravest mouse ever.’
‘My mum said there’s a dragon in the story,’ Katherine continued. ‘But there isn’t. And there’s this really annoying boy.’
I grinned. ‘Just keep reading. Something very interesting happens to that boy.’
‘Meanwhile, back on planet Earth,’ Henry said as he rose to carve the chicken, ‘who wants dark and who wants light?’
Alice swatted his arm with her napkin. ‘Makes a break from talking about Doctor Who. Penny, your preference?’
‘Doctor Who or The Chronicles of Narnia?’ I asked, pretending to be alarmed. ‘Do I have to decide?’
Alice balled up her napkin as if she were going to throw it at me. ‘Dark meat or light meat, and you know that’s what I meant.’ She turned to Peter. ‘Yup, this one is going to fit right in.’
Chicken was dished up, and we tucked into a very traditional British dinner of meat, potatoes, and two veg. ‘It was the same in New Zealand,’ Alice said at my comment.
‘They lived with the Kiwis for three years,’ Peter told me. ‘Near Wellington?’
‘Just outside,’ Henry said. ‘We loved it there, but we’re back in England to stay.’
‘My brother lived in New Zealand for a while,’ I commented. ‘On South Island.’
‘We look forward to meeting him.’ Alice sighed. ‘That’s why we wanted to come back. New Zealand is just so far away from family.’
‘It’s like another world away,’ Henry added. ‘You could almost imagine dragons coming out of the forests around Punakaiki.’
‘Dragons do live in the forests around Punakaiki,’ Katherine muttered. ‘I haven’t seen any here.’
‘Yes, dear,’ Alice said affectionately.
I exchanged a rueful glance with Peter. Katherine had reached the age when children began to lose the Sight. I wished I could assure her that dragons were real, and even give her some way to continue seeing them. But keeping Lloegyr secret helped to keep that world safe. ‘Read your book,’ I said gently. ‘There’s an interesting dragon to come. And there are other dragon books I can recommend.’
Katherine looked up at me through her frizzy dark hair. ‘You like dragons?’
‘One of Penny’s best friends is a dragon,’ Peter intoned, mock seriously.
‘Yes, I like dragons,’ I replied steadily, tapping his arm. It wasn’t fair to lead Katherine on.
Other topics swirled around the table as we moved on to a bread and butter pudding and then coffee. Katherine finished her milk and turned to her mother. ‘May I show Aunt Penny my dragon collection?’
‘Your clothes are still in suitcases, but you’ve found time to unpack your dragons?’ Alice smiled. ‘If Aunt Penny is interested, then of course.’
‘Aunt Penny is interested,’ I said. ‘May we be excused from the table?’
We were released by a wave of a hand. Peter leaned in close to whisper, ‘I’ll come and rescue you in twenty minutes.’
Katherine led me up the stairs. Boxes lined the walls and straggled into bedrooms. Several suitcases rested on the girl’s bed, lids open to expose rumpled clothes. The single shelf on the blue wall was crowded with dragons. Plastic dragons, Lego dragons, dragons created from crystals and dragons made from wood. ‘Most of them are green,’ I noted.
‘All dragons are green.’
I cast my mind back to the time Raven had taken me to the Daear equivalent of New Zealand. Perhaps only search dragons visited the two islands. ‘The Welsh dragon isn’t. He’s red.’
Katherine stared up at me. ‘What Welsh dragon?’
I pulled out my iPhone and did a quick internet search. ‘That’s the flag of Wales, one of the countries of Great Britain. See? Red dragon.’
‘I wish we lived in Wales,’ Katherine muttered.
‘Why?’
‘Anywhere’d be better than here.’
She threw herself across the black beanbag which rested in a corner. I closed a suitcase to make room to sit on the bed. ‘You miss New Zealand?’
Katherine nodded, her dark eyes wet with unshed tears. ‘All of my friends are there. The kids here won’t play my games.’
‘And what games are those?’
‘Dragon games.’ Her face was full of pity for my stupidity. ‘What else? We pretend to be dragons, and grown ups can’t see us.’
I made a mental note to test her for the Sight in a few months’ time. ‘Have you asked kids over here to play that game?’
‘Yes. And they don’t want to. They say dragons aren’t real, so they want to play ponies instead. And ponies are boring. They can’t fly.’
‘Have you thought about taking it in turns?’ I asked. ‘Maybe one day you play ponies, and the next day you play dragons.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to play ponies. I only want to play dragons.’
‘Then you might end up playing alone.’
‘But I want to play dragons.’
‘Even if that means playing alone?’ The bed creaked as I leaned forward. ‘Drago
ns are fantastic, but they’re not always good friends, are they? Dragons come and go. It’s better to have human friends to play with.’
‘Even if they’re boring?’
‘How do you know that they’re boring?’
She picked at the purple carpet. ‘People who don’t like dragons are boring.’
I bit back my impulse to agree with her. ‘They might like other things. Like unicorns. Maybe, instead of ponies, you could play unicorns? Adults can’t see unicorns either.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Anyway,’ I continued brightly, ‘how about you introduce me to your dragons? This is a wonderful collection.’
As he had promised, Peter appeared at the door a short while later. I placed the crystal dragon back onto the shelf. ‘I have to go, Katherine. Your uncle needs to drive me home.’
‘You’ll come and visit again?’ the girl asked.
‘Of course.’ I pointed at the book she’d placed on her bed. ‘You finish The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, and we’ll have a talk about the story. Okay?’
‘Okay.’ And she threw her arms around me, burying her head in my chest. ‘Thank you, Aunt Penny.’
‘For what?’
But Katherine said nothing further as she released me. She tucked the book back under her arm and led us down the stairs.
‘Good to meet you all,’ I said as we made our farewells. Luke was falling asleep in his father’s arms, and I had the feeling that both children had been allowed to stay up past their usual bedtime.
Alice gave me a parting hug. ‘We’ll have to get together soon. I need to know about my bridesmaid dress!’
‘Matron of honour,’ Henry said. He shifted Luke down to his hip. ‘You can’t claim to be a maid anymore.’
‘Will I have a special dress, too?’ Katherine asked.
I caught Peter’s eye. This wasn’t something we’d discussed. ‘Of course,’ I promised the girl. And I resigned myself to the inclusion of children in the bridal party. Family, I had learned long ago, meant making compromises. But this was one I could live with.
Chapter Sixteen
The Doctor Who theme rang out from my iPhone. I put it down on the kitchen counter and activated the speakerphone. ‘Hi, Peter. I can’t talk long, I have an appointment in Kettering.’
