by Mary Grand
‘Tell me about them.’
Catrin started, rather hesitantly, telling Harri about Lowri and Bethan growing up. She wasn’t sure he would be that bothered in hearing about them. However, he appeared genuinely interested.
‘They’re lucky girls to have you spend so much time on them.’
‘I think a lot of people think that I spoil them, that I do too much for them.’
‘Rubbish. I think it’s great.’
They were brought sorbet, then sweet dishes. Catrin looked out to sea. The sun appeared to be resting on the horizon. The sea was a gentle blue. The setting sun gave everything a warm glow.
‘It’s later than I thought,’ Catrin said. ‘I don’t know where the time has gone.’
‘It’s only nine. You don’t have anything to rush back for, do you?’
‘No,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘I haven’t.’
‘Good, then there is somewhere else I want to take you.’
‘Where do you mean? It’s getting dark.’
‘Don’t worry. It’s just the right time to see it.’
Catrin could feel Safi moving on her feet.
‘He’s been very good.’
‘I think he just wants to be with you.’
Catrin laughed. ‘I think you’re right. It’s good that somebody does. Well, OK. Let’s go on this adventure.’
Harri paid the bill. They walked up to the car. Catrin felt a thrill of excitement. Where on earth were they going? They drove a relatively short distance, then Harri pulled in.
Catrin got out of the car wide-eyed. The sky was darkening, but there was a bright full moon, and Harri had a torch.
‘Where are we?’
‘This is Pennard Castle.’
Catrin’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. She could make out the outlines of the ruined castle.
‘It’s an early twelfth century castle. Over there is Three Cliffs Bay. It has the most wonderful views in the daytime, but there is nothing like it for the atmosphere at night. The cliff edge is over there, so be careful.’
‘I’ve never been here. I know what you mean: it’s full of atmosphere.’
‘That’s why I brought you here. There’s amazing stories about it.’
‘What are they?’
‘Well, there’s one about it being haunted by the ghost of an old winged witch who bewitches anyone who sleeps there overnight.’
‘Well, we don’t intend to stay here, do we?’
‘You know they talk about the faerie land of Gower?’
‘Oh, yes. Nana Beth used to talk about the faeries.’
‘Well, the story goes that the faeries cursed the castle. Apparently, the owner of the castle was celebrating his forthcoming marriage to the daughter of the then Prince of Wales. They had a huge feast here, but were disturbed by some lights on the beach. Everybody rushed down to the beach with drawn swords, to find that the revellers were faeries, who were furious about having their dance in the moonlight disturbed by mortals. They cursed the owner of the castle. A sandstorm came, and choked him and his followers to death. The castle was also engulfed by sand.’
‘Wow. That’s a great story, although I always thought faeries were nicer than that. In this light, I can almost imagine it.’
‘You should draw it, or paint it.’
Catrin shrugged. ‘I don’t think I could, now.’
They sat down looking out into the darkness.
‘Catrin, what’s happened to you? When you were seventeen, you were so full of excitement, dreams. I remember you talking, saying that life had been difficult, but that your mother was well again and you could make plans. What went wrong?’
‘Well my Nana died. Mum needed me. I worked locally in Cardiff. I met Gareth. I don’t see that as my life going wrong, just changing direction.’
‘And now, what direction are you going in?’
‘I don’t know. I was thinking of doing some kind of college course.’
‘What in?’
‘I don’t know. I’m not really any good at anything.’
Harri shook his head, frustrated.
‘For God’s sake, Catrin. You and I are fifty now. Time’s precious. We can’t fritter it away. What about your drawing, your art?’
Catrin looked down, remembering the work spread across her mother’s bedroom floor.
‘What is it?’ asked Harri.
Slowly, Catrin told him what had happened that day.
‘That’s so bad. How could your father have done that?’
‘I think he thought it was for the best.’
‘Good God. You don’t believe that, do you?’
‘Well, there were things to do. Looking after Mum and stuff.’
‘Catrin, he had no right to do that.’
‘No, maybe not. I would love to have gone to college. I loved drawing and painting.’ Catrin felt tears welling up. ‘Look, sorry. I’ve drunk a lot of wine. I ought to go back now.’
‘It’s never too late to do the things you love. You should come and visit Collioure. It’s full of artists and painters.’
‘It sounds amazing, but it’s not for me.’
‘Why not?’
Catrin laughed and stood up. ‘I ought to get back to the real world.’
They walked back towards the car. Safi jumped happily in the back. Harri drove back to the house.
‘Thanks for a wonderful evening,’ she said.
‘Don’t forget what we talked about. It doesn’t have to be a dream. Give me your mobile number.’
Catrin did this, and then got out of the car. She watched Harri drive away.
Catrin met her father in the hallway.
‘Where’ve you been?’ he asked
‘Just out for a meal.’
‘Who with?’
‘Harri.’
‘Gareth phoned the house phone,’ her father said, briskly.
‘Oh. What did he say?’ Catrin felt consumed with guilt, as if Gareth somehow would know everything that had happened that evening.
‘Nothing. I didn’t know where you were.’
‘OK. I’ll try ringing him back now.’
‘Don’t forget that article for the website. I’d like it up soon. You can mention what I said, and about the bench.’
‘Oh, dear. Are you sure you want me to do this?’
‘Of course.’
Catrin sighed, heard the sound from the television, and went into the living room. As she expected, Lowri and Mark were in there.
‘Hi, Mum. Gosh, you look lovely. Where have you been?’
‘Just out for a meal.’
‘What? Who with?’
‘Just Harri.’
‘Oh, Mum. Out on a date?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Where did you go?’
Catrin told them about the restaurant. ‘It was lovely. You and Mark ought to go there. My treat, its pricey.’
Lowri grinned. ‘It sounds good.’
‘Did you and Mark have a good day?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Lowri, glowing. She turned to Mark. ‘What was it we saw?’
Mark grinned, took out his phone, and showed Catrin a photograph of an enormous, light, purple-coloured moth.
‘Goodness. What’s that?’
‘It’s a Convolvulus Hawk-moth. Quite rare. I was very excited to see it,’ said Mark. He gave Lowri that wonderful, warm, intimate smile: exclusive, and private.
‘Dad rang, by the way,’ said Lowri.
‘Grandad said. I’ll try calling him back.’
‘I think he was having trouble with his mobile.’
‘OK, right. I’ll try anyway. Do you two have any plans tomorrow?’
Catrin noticed them look quickly at each other. ‘Maybe go for a long walk.’
Catrin nodded, but was hurt that they were being so secretive. Then she heard the front door. It was Bethan, carrying handfuls of smart carrier bags.
‘You’re incredibly late. What on earth have you been doing?’ Catrin a
sked.
‘It’s been great. Honestly, Mum. We had the most fantastic day, shopping in Swansea shopping centre. There was a lot more there than I expected. Not as good as Cardiff, but pretty good. Then, of course, we went to the cinema.’
‘I didn’t expect you to be out this late.’
‘I sent you a text.’
‘I know, but I couldn’t do anything about it.’
‘Don’t fuss. We went to this incredible place for Pizza after, like a cocktail bar.’
‘You didn’t drink, did you?’
Bethan gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Of course not.’
‘I’m not happy about it. You’ve only just met Elizabeth.’
‘But we get on so well. Honestly, it’s great walking around with her. I’d look at our reflection: we really look like mother and daughter.’
Catrin swallowed hard. ‘Well, that’s good,’ she said, trying to smile.
Bethan patted her on the head. ‘You’re really not to worry about me. It’s all going really well. Look at all the clothes we bought. Honestly, Mum. Elizabeth thought nothing of Topshop prices. She thought it was cheap, and we went to some places, you know, where they seem to have only about three outfits for sale, really expensive. You have enormous changing rooms all to yourself, and the assistant just keeps bringing you things to try on.’
‘Elizabeth paid for all this?’
‘God, yes. Mum, I reckon she’s really loaded.’
‘My goodness, Bethan. It’s more than we spend in a year on clothes.’
‘She didn’t mind. She seemed to like doing it.’
‘Well, I don’t want her spending money like this every time you meet. Were you alright at the cinema?’
‘To be honest, I didn’t have a clue for some of it, but I didn’t say anything to Elizabeth.’
‘How was her signing?’
‘OK. Not as good as she thinks,’ said Bethan. ‘She made some real bad mistakes, but I didn’t tell her. Fortunately, I’m used to crap signing. It was interesting. She was telling me about her mother. She was brought up in England, but when she moved to New York with her husband’s work she found it very hard because all the Deaf people out there use American Sign Language.’
‘Is it that different?’
‘Oh, yes. Really different, and they do it one handed. Her mother found it really hard, felt very isolated. It’s amazing her mother was Deaf, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘I know it’s not for the same reason. It doesn’t explain my Deafness, but at least there is someone in my family who was Deaf. I’m not the only one. Does that make sense?’
‘I think so, yes. I hadn’t realised you’d feel like that, but, yes, I can understand that.’
‘I do wish I could have met her.’
‘It would have been good for you. I can see that.’
‘And for her. Elizabeth said she felt isolated. I can understand that. It’s hard being different all the time.’
‘It was what I was trying to explain to Grandad when I was telling him about Deaf Club.’
‘He doesn’t get it, does he?’
‘No, I’m afraid not. Anyway, are you seeing Elizabeth again soon?’ asked Catrin, hesitantly.
‘Tomorrow. She would like to give me something special for my birthday.’
‘I think she has spent quite enough on you.’
‘She loves doing it, Mum. She’s very generous, never looks at the price of things. I talked to her all about my music and the world of Deaf musicians. She was really interested. She told me about her art galleries. Mum, she’s amazing. She flies to New York and to loads of places to auctions and things. She knows a lot about art and meets such interesting people.’
‘It sounds very interesting.’
‘It is, Mum. Wow, who’d have thought my mother would be like that?’
Catrin tried to push the words away, but it was like trying to use a piece of tissue to bat away a ball of fire. The pain was great but, despite it, like many mothers, she forced herself to smile.
Bethan, not completely oblivious to her mother’s feelings, stopped and said. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’
‘Of course not. It's lovely that you get on.’
Bethan breathed out, and grinned. ‘That’s great. Just think. If I was to get the audition and go to New York, I could see her over there. Right, better get off to bed.’ Bethan kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’m so happy, Mum,’ she said, and ran up the stairs.
Catrin knew that she should be pleased for Bethan. The last thing she would have wanted was for her to be hurt, but to have Elizabeth swoop in with her money and sophistication was pretty hard to bear. Everything was moving too fast.
Catrin went upstairs and opened the window wide, allowing the breeze and the soft rhythmic sound of the sea into the room. She tried phoning Gareth on his mobile and on the landline, but got no response. What was she meant to do? Was she really about to lose Bethan? Would she go off to New York? It would be like losing a limb. Of course, Bethan would still come home. They would email and text, but it was a long way and, if she had Elizabeth, would it be her she would turn to? Catrin stared out of the window at the blackness. Suddenly, pictures of sitting drinking rosé on the harbour at Collioure drifted in and out of her mind. She could feel the warmth of sun on her face. At her feet was a half-finished painting. Foolish dreaming, but it didn’t hurt, did it? Just for a minute, to escape, to dream?
Chapter Twenty Four
Wednesday 1st August 2012
The next day Catrin got out of bed resolved that she would try and get the article for her father’s website done. It was one of those things hanging on in her head. She just needed to get it finished. She took Safi outside. Under her arm she carried a notebook and pen. She opened it to a clean page and put the heading: ‘Aled, the architect’. Not very inspiring, but she would return to that. She wrote some things about him making models as a child, the drawings he’d done in churches they had visited. It didn’t flow because, when she closed her eyes and remembered Aled, he was always running, climbing, playing sport. He wasn’t still that often.
She quickly moved on to university. She knew he’d got a first, done very well. He had worked with some firms in London. She would have to get the names of them from her father. Then he had gone to America. Catrin had seen so little of him in those years. But then they had never been that close. She sat staring at the almost-empty page, then she glanced out at Worm’s Head. It was very clear this morning. It looked very close. Why had Aled gone there that night? Then she thought about Elizabeth. Of course, she had known him in America, and she knew what was in his mind the night he died. Catrin could ask her now. Maybe if she understood some of these things, she could write this silly article, but more importantly actually understand what had happened.
Catrin went in to make coffee. The front door bell rang. Catrin opened it to find Elizabeth, immaculate as usual, standing on the doorstep.
‘Hi, you’re early.’
‘Yes. I have some exciting plans.’
‘Well, come in. Come through to the garden. Bethan is asleep in bed, I’m afraid.’
‘That’s OK. There’s something I want to ask you first, anyway.’
They went out together. Catrin watched Elizabeth sit rather gingerly on the edge of a wobbly metal seat.
‘Actually, I have something to ask you as well,’ said Catrin.
‘Really? OK. Well, you go first,’ said Elizabeth.
Catrin felt rather like she was being interviewed, but plunged straight in.
‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but could I ask you some things about Aled?’
Elizabeth stiffened, but she replied, ‘Of course.’
‘I was wondering about his time in America. I mean, what sort of work was he doing? What did people say about him? I have to write something for Dad, you see, and I realise I don’t know anything about him at that time. He never came home or phoned or anything.’
‘Well, I onl
y knew him for a while. I was a bit star-struck, you know. He was very good-looking, always joking around–’
‘But he was outstanding as an architect?’
‘I didn’t know much about that side of things.’
‘Your father would have–’
‘Dad didn’t talk about work to me much. Actually, I think he didn’t quite approve of some of the younger architects at the firm. Aled was part of that group.’
‘Why was that?’
‘He said they were too busy out partying. You have to realise my father was very religious. He never drank or anything.’
‘But you still went out with Aled?’
‘Yes. My father thought I was going out with a friend for coffee and suchlike, but actually I was going out with Aled.’
‘And what did you do?’
‘We’d go out for drinks. He had a flat. I’d go round there sometimes.’
‘That doesn’t sound that wild.’
‘Well, he had another life, apart from me. He went on to other parties later, after I’d gone. They were a bit heavier. They played poker and things.’
‘Gosh. I hadn’t realised my brother was leading such a colourful life. I assumed it was sport or work.’
‘Oh, no. He definitely was involved in more than that.’
‘Right. So he was popular?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Do you know how he felt about coming back to England? I mean, it sounds like he was having a good time out there.’
‘I was very surprised when I read that he had come back. He told me that he liked being away from the pressure of home.’
‘But my father made a lot of trips over there–’
‘Yes, but Aled was pretty good at avoiding him.’
‘But he came back–’
‘Yes. I didn’t see him until the party. I heard about it on the grapevine.’
‘You hadn’t told him you were pregnant?’
‘No. I didn’t realise for ages and, when I did, I sort of froze. I did try phoning him at the office but got no reply. I gave up hope. I was planning adoption when I heard he was back in the UK. I decided to come and see him.’
‘Dad told me he was thrilled about the baby. I’m so sorry. It was tragic that he got killed that night.’
Elizabeth frowned. ‘You think Aled wanted the baby?’