Hidden Chapters

by Mary Grand

  ‘Hey,’ a voice shouted behind her. She ignored it, but again it shouted, this time her name, ‘Catrin.’

  She turned. She recognised the voice, but who was it?

  ‘Catrin. It’s Harri,’ the voice shouted. Harri took off his sunglasses, and then she knew.

  ‘Good heavens,’ she said.

  She recognised his voice now, but he looked quite different. He stood confidently, wore fitted navy shorts just below the knee, a white T shirt and cream blazer. His hair was still thick and fair.

  Painfully aware of the mess she must look, Catrin made her way back out of the sea, and quickly undocked her skirt.

  ‘My father told me you were staying here. You’re up early,’ he said, grinning.

  ‘My God, Harri. It must be over thirty years since I’ve seen you.’

  ‘I came to stay with Dad, catch up, you know.’

  ‘Right.’ She looked around. ‘It doesn’t change, does it?’

  Harri grinned. ‘No, not a bit.’ He added, more seriously, ‘I was so sorry about what happened to Aled.’

  ‘Thank you. It was awful. I’ve not come back, you know, until yesterday.’

  ‘I can understand that.’

  ‘So what happened to you? Didn’t you go to France or something?’

  ‘Yes. I went to university over there. Now I live in a lovely seaside town, Collioure; gorgeous harbour front, good restaurants, wine. Wonderful place.’

  ‘Sounds incredible. What do you do there?’

  ‘My wife’s family own a vineyard up on the hillside there. I’ve turned their business around over the years.’

  ‘That’s impressive.’

  ‘It is. Not sure they appreciate it but, yes, it’s done well. It’s lovely living out there. I have to say this place looks pretty primitive and derelict after there.’

  Catrin look at the vast expanse of beach, the steep downs behind.

  ‘I wouldn’t use the word derelict. It’s stunning.’

  ‘But so, well, uncivilised. I mean, where can you sit and drink a decent glass of rosé, eat fine food?’

  ‘I don’t think people come here for that. And there is the hotel at the top.’

  ‘But it’s so hard to get back up there. There should be facilities further down, or at least put in some easier means of getting up and down to the beach.’

  ‘But that would ruin it. You do know that at one time they were going to build a Butlins down here? Can you imagine it?’

  Harri laughed. ‘That’s not quite what I had in mind. Anyway, you didn’t come for a lecture. I must admit we had some good times when we were in our teens, younger more innocent times. I used to sit beside you on the beach watching you sketch. I hope you’re still painting.’

  ‘Oh, no. Not any more.’

  ‘But you were really good. I still have a picture of shells you painted. It’s a watercolour: a collection of beautiful shells, blues, pinks and creams. I got it framed. You know, people in Collioure have offered me money for it, but I said nothing would make me part with it. To me, it’s priceless.’

  He looked at her intently. ‘We had that wonderful summer, but you never kept in touch when you went back to Cardiff. Very hard on a young man’s ego.’

  She smiled. ‘I’m sorry. Everything went a bit haywire when I got back.’

  ‘I heard you never went to Art College.’

  ‘I never even finished my A levels.’

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Well, the first thing that happened was that my Nana Beth died in the September. Mum was in an awful state. Then all the work I had in a portfolio I was putting together for my interview for college got lost.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘It was the school. Mum or Dad took it up to them because I was ill. I was sure it had been given to the head of art. He was meant to be looking at it. Anyway, I went back to school and they denied ever having it, which was ridiculous. I was very upset, so was Mum. She went up, creating a fuss, but it never turned up. I started again but I never had the time to build up the work I needed. Mum was poorly a lot and I just never had the time I needed to complete things. It was frustrating, with my art teacher nagging me all the time. In the end I decided to leave school and I started casual work.’

  ‘And you’ve never gone back to it?’

  ‘No. I was happy working in shops and things. It suited everyone.’

  ‘Seems a waste.’

  ‘Not really. I got married when I was twenty seven, and then I had Lowri. Time just sort of goes, doesn’t it?’

  ‘It can. Do you remember the plans we made that summer before you went into the sixth form? We would both do our A levels. You were going to do your foundation year, while I was going to get a year’s experience in France. Then you I would travel the world.’

  ‘Ah, you dream when you’re young. Still, you went to France.’

  ‘I did, and I met Francine.’

  They walked along the beach together.

  ‘I hear Lloyd is selling the house now.’

  ‘That’s right. Sealed bids have to be in by a week Tuesday.’

  ‘Do you mind him selling?’

  ‘God, no. I’ll be glad to see the back of it. So how is your wife? Is she over with you?’

  ‘Francine is actually back in France. We have a boy, Marc. He’s at university now, and, actually, me and Francine: we’re on a bit of a break.’

  ‘I’m sorry–’

  ‘It’s OK. We might still work it out. Dad said you’re married to a doctor.’

  ‘That’s right. Gareth and I live in Cardiff.’

  ‘So is he having a lie-in?’

  ‘Oh no. He’s working. I’ll be impressed if he even gets down today.’

  ‘Dad said there is some kind of memorial for Aled tomorrow. Is he coming for that?’

  ‘Yes, but it would be nice if he came today. It’s my birthday.’

  ‘Really? Happy birthday.’

  She smiled. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I was fifty earlier this year. Is it the same for you?’

  ‘That’s right. I have to say, you have worn better than me.’

  ‘You still look beautiful.’ He touched her fair hair very gently.

  ‘Oh Harri, that’s very kind, but nonsense.’

  He didn’t laugh. ‘You fit here, you know. Always have.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I don’t know. You just look at home. Why don’t you and Gareth buy the house from Lloyd?’

  ‘I couldn’t now. Not after all that has happened here.’

  ‘Right. Well, I might as well tell you what I’m thinking of doing, then.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Actually, I am thinking of putting in a bid.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Mm.’

  ‘You want to buy it? Why?’

  ‘I have ideas. It’s on a large plot. I was thinking of some kind of spa hotel.’

  ‘You would knock down the Dragon House?’

  ‘You just said you’d be glad to see the back of the place.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘It would give much-needed work for the locals as well. Put the village on the tourist map.’

  ‘I suppose so, yes. But it would cost a fortune wouldn’t it?’

  ‘A lot, but then I have capital. Who knows? Your father may be interested in coming in on the deal.’

  They were walking along the warm sand, Catrin tuning her breathing to the calm shushing of the incoming waves on the beach. It was heavenly, peaceful.

  Harri’s next words crashed in. ‘Dad told me you adopted Aled’s child.’

  ‘Um, you mean–’

  ‘The girl. Dad said you and your husband adopted the girl.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. To be honest, I didn’t know it was quite so widely known.’

  ‘Oh, gosh. You can’t imagine keeping secrets in a place like this, can you?’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Is she like Aled? I remem
ber him when we were young. Sickening. He could do everything, couldn’t he?’

  ‘He was exceptional, yes. Bethan is not that much like him to look at. She is dark and musical. Aled was all sports.’

  ‘I can remember him running the length of this beach. I was five years older than him, but he could always beat me easily. Dad told me the girl is, what do they call it now? Hearing impaired. Is that right?’

  ‘Actually, Bethan prefers to say she is Deaf. There are people you see that say the word impairment means something needs to be fixed. She was born Deaf.’

  ‘Do they know why?’

  ‘No. No idea, but it happens that way sometimes.’

  ‘So does she sign?’

  ‘Yes. She is also very musical.’

  ‘Really? I’d have thought that was impossible.’

  ‘Don’t say that to Bethan. And don’t mention Beethoven. She’s going to university to study music in September. She wants to specialise in composition.’

  ‘Gosh, sounds amazing. You must have worked very hard with her.’

  ‘I fought for her to do things, but there is something in Bethan that drives her. I think she will be playing her flute tomorrow at the memorial for Aled. Are you coming?’

  ‘Oh yes. I want to speak to your father. So, if you never went to college, what have you been doing?’

  ‘When I left school I just did casual work, you know, various different jobs. Mum needed help. I was fine. Then I met Gareth at the hospital. It was wonderful.’

  ‘Were you nursing?’

  Catrin cringed. ‘No. I was only working in the shop at the hospital, by the entrance. He stopped by each day to buy his paper. We got talking, you know, about politics and things. Then he asked me out. I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t sometimes. We had Lowri and then, of course, Bethan.’

  ‘Do you have a really nice house? I mean, Gareth being a doctor and all that. I bet you spend your life going on exotic holidays and things.’

  ‘Hardly. We live in a very ordinary house on an estate. We never go out for a meal, let alone a holiday.’

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Gareth’s always working.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I’ve had some wonderful times bringing up the girls. Being a Mum has been the best thing I’ve ever done.’

  ‘Really? I’m not sure Francine would agree.’

  ‘Everyone’s different. I had lots of friends who have gone back to follow really interesting careers, and that’s fine. Thank God, actually. I mean, some went on to be head teachers, run their own businesses, all sorts.’

  ‘But not you?’

  ‘Oh, no. I never had the qualifications anyway.’

  ‘But your girls are getting older now. Surely you have dreams?’

  Catrin looked out at the sea. ‘Dreams? Do people our age have dreams?’

  ‘Of course they do.’

  ‘I don’t think I do. Maybe I’m not the dreaming kind.’

  ‘You used to be. Think about it: you always wanted to travel. You and Gareth could do that now. Maybe he’ll surprise you for your birthday: take you on a cruise or something.’

  ‘The biggest surprise will be if he remembers my birthday at all.’

  ‘I’m sure Gareth has something up his sleeve.’

  ‘He really won’t have. Look, I know it sounds odd to you, but I don’t need lots of presents and things from Gareth. He’s a good man and he works very hard.’

  ‘Well, I know a great restaurant Gareth can take you to, if you need a heads up. You can get a table, even tonight, if you mention my name.’

  ‘We don’t do things like that, and I really don’t mind. I shall cook for us. We will have a lovely family meal.’

  ‘Well in case you change your mind, the name is Ffrwyth Y Môr, Fruits of the Sea. Wonderful place. Been open about a year. Already has Michelin stars.’

  ‘Sounds pricey, but thank you.’

  ‘You deserve it, deserve to be looked after.’

  Harri reached out, and touched the long scar on her arm. She pulled her arm away, and quickly put on her blouse.

  ‘I’m fine, very lucky. I have a good husband, two lovely girls, food and clothing. I have people who need me, who I can help, and for those things I thank God. I am very fortunate,’ she said, defiantly.

  ‘Then why do you sound so miserable?’

  She frowned. ‘I’m not miserable. Why do you say that?’

  ‘Look, you don’t have to listen to me, but I reckon it’s time you started looking after yourself. And Gareth, well, it’s time he started to appreciate you.’

  ‘I have my girls. I have my health. I’m very lucky. Stop trying to make me feel so, I don’t know, discontent.’

  Harri smiled apologetically. ‘I’m sorry. Not fair on your birthday, is it?’

  She looked up at the downs. ‘I suppose I ought to get back to the house, face the family.’

  They started to walk back up the beach and clambered up on to the path.

  ‘Right, I’m going down to the hotel. I shall, sit and drink decent coffee and read the papers,’ said Harri, grinning.

  ‘Sounds very relaxing.’

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then?’

  ‘Yes of course, see you then.’

  Catrin walked up through the down land and came into the village. Talking to Harri had upset her, and she wasn’t sure why. She felt confused, and lonely. She looked down the street, and then she thought of something she could do to cheer herself up, something she hadn’t done for years.

  Chapter Ten

  Catrin looked around, feeling guilty, and went to the general store. She walked around the shop. Bethan had said something about going gluten free, so she picked up a few bags of rice and oats. It all seemed very heavy. She was glad Harri’s father didn’t appear to be in the shop.

  As she paid for her shopping she said to the woman behind the counter, ‘A packet of Benson and Hedges, and a lighter, please.’ Although she was speaking quietly she felt she was shouting the words. The woman looked quite bored, though. Catrin quickly stuffed the cigarettes in her handbag and left the shop. She crossed the road, and found a discrete bench looking over the downs. This is crazy, part of her was saying. She was acting like a school child hiding behind the bike sheds. Gareth and Lowri would go spare.

  When Catrin had been very young, her mother would send her to the shops to buy cigarettes for her. They would sell them to children in those days. Her mother never wanted anyone to know that she smoked. She was always very grateful to Catrin for going to get them. It was one of the few times her mother would smile at her and tell her that she was a good kid.

  Catrin had first smoked in her early teens down at the park. It had made her part of a group for the first time. She had impressed them all by not coughing and spluttering but, standing in what she believed to be a sophisticated way, she had nonchalantly inhaled the smoke, even blown rings of smoke. Of course, she had her mother to thank for the performance. All those years, she had been unconsciously teaching her daughter how to smoke. It had been easy.

  Catrin had only smoked with friends for a few years, and once after Aled’s accident. She had been desperate to do something, and she remembered that look of sheer bliss her mother had when she smoked. Maybe it would help. She had just had the one. Gareth had found the packet. A huge row ensued. That had been the last time.

  Well, until today. Deep down, maybe it was a rebellion against Gareth, who hadn’t even sent her a text to wish her happy birthday. She really tried not to care, but there was one tiny part which did. As she stood looking over to the sea, Catrin took a long drag on the cigarette. She realised that she still didn’t like the taste. In fact, it seemed to take an awful long time to finish. She grinned at her foolishness as she put the packet in her bag. She would throw them away later. She quickly crunched on a mint and walked back to the house.

  Catrin entered the quiet house and went upstairs, further along the hallway. Bethan’s room was
dark and silent. From her father’s room she could hear snoring. To her left was her mother’s old room. She suddenly realised that all her life her parents had had separate rooms, here and in the Cardiff house. She had always just accepted it, but today she did think that maybe it had been a bit strange. Catrin glanced at the door to her mother’s room and tried to remember how many years it had been since she had been in there. She hadn’t been in there since the night of Aled’s accident, so it was more than eighteen years. Gosh, it must be nearly twenty five years.

  Tentatively, Catrin pushed open the door, wondering if she would be faced with a load of boxes. The yellow curtains were drawn but still allowed sunshine to filter in. When she opened them, the room looked light and pleasant. It had been cleaned and dusted but, apart from that, appeared to have been left totally untouched.

  She tried to open the wardrobe, but was surprised to find it locked. She went to the dressing table. There, she found a number of photographs. There were a few of Aled, but they weren’t like the ones down in Cardiff. They all showed him gaining awards and prizes. These showed a little boy with blond curls in home knitted jumpers, and grubby knees. Catrin smiled. It was lovely to push past the older Aled and see the innocence of his early years. There were similar pictures of her, her blond hair clipped back in a plastic slide, and wearing that cotton dress she had liked, with daisies on it. Next to these was one of her mother. She was in the library in Cardiff where she worked. What struck Catrin was how upright and confident her mother looked. She had been a pretty woman, sure of herself. Tucked behind the larger ones was a small wedding photograph. She was struck again by both how glamorous her mother looked, but also how much older she had been than her father. Of course, she knew there was twenty years between her mother and her father. However, in the photograph, the age difference was very marked. She wondered if that was part of the reason her parents had no wedding photographs on display in their house in Cardiff. In fact, she had never known her parents celebrate their wedding anniversary. She picked up the photo and looked at the back. There was the date of their wedding. She blinked, and looked again. December 1961. For the first time, she realised that at the time of the wedding her mother must have been pregnant.