by Mary Grand
‘He’s just come back from a walk on his own. He walks miles, that man.’
‘Don’t blame him escaping the tension here.’
‘Bethan was very upset. I did suggest seeing her social worker, like you said, and she wants to do it.’
‘Good.’
Catrin looked at Gareth. He was sitting up, looking well, and actually more relaxed then she’d seen him for ages.
‘Gareth we have to talk about us sometime. I’ve been so unhappy. The smoking thing was just a symptom. I shan’t be doing it again, but it doesn’t mean everything is alright. I was trying to cover up pain, and not just pain from my past. I’ve been lonely. You’ve put your work and this research before me. It’s no wonder I thought there was someone else. In a sense there has been, but it wasn’t a person.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I can’t go back to how it’s been. I can’t come second any more, not to work, or anything.’
‘You want me to choose?’
Catrin took a deep breath. ‘I suppose I do.’
‘But I find it so hard. I find it impossible to do less hours. I do know it’s a problem. I’m there far longer than any of the others.’
‘And you took on that research.’
‘Yes, that was a big mistake.’
‘You must know it’s not right never to remember my birthday, never to take me out, or go on a proper holiday, always offering to work Christmas, and then this week. Not to be there when the birth mother of our daughter turns up, and not to come to my brother’s memorial, however upset you were with my Dad. You should have done all those things without me asking.’
Gareth scratched his forehead in the way he always did when he was nervous.
‘When you put it in a list like that–’
‘It’s not right. Is it?’
‘No. No, it’s not.’
‘Something has to change.’
‘I suppose you wish you could to go to France with that Harri,’ Gareth said, sulkily.
‘No. I don’t, but it was very nice to be taken out for a proper meal. He noticed the dress I wore, the one I bought myself for my birthday as a present from you. He listened to me. He was interested in me.’
‘You love him?’
‘Don’t be so stupid. Of course not.’
‘I do love you.’
‘But how the hell am I meant to know that?’
They sat looking at each other. Who would make the next move?
Gareth touched Catrin’s hand. ‘I need time to think. It’s good we’re talking, though, isn’t it?’ He said it more as a plea.
‘Yes. We need to untangle things, but we have to be brave, Gareth, have courage to make changes.’
He smiled weakly.
Bethan came in to the room with Lowri.
Bethan spoke. ‘Mum, we’ve something to ask you. We’ve been talking. We would like to go out, cross the causeway, and go to Worm’s Head.’
Catrin sighed. ‘You still want to go there?’
‘More than before. I need to, Mum, but I understand why you don’t want to go. Lowri said she and Mark would go with me. Mark has been before a few times, so I would be safe.’
Catrin stood up and looked out of the window at Worm’s Head in the distance. She had never ventured over there, not even as a child. Was it time, she wondered, to face it, face the dragon? If she didn’t go now, would it always be that thing she couldn’t do? Would the memory haunt her for ever?
‘I think I should come,’ she said. ‘We need to find out when the causeway is open, though.’
‘Mark went that way earlier. He knows the times. We could go this evening at six.’
Catrin took a sharp intake of breath. ‘Today?’
‘Yes. Why not?’
Catrin looked in amazement at Bethan. The vulnerable little girl had departed. Bethan had courage. She needed to find it as well.
‘Well, OK. We can go this evening then. Have you both got decent shoes to wear? It’s meant to be a really rough walk.’
Lowri came over and kissed her on the forehead. ‘Good old Mum,’ she said, laughing, and left the room. Bethan put her head to one side. ‘So, are you going to invite Grandad? I mean, it would be good for him, you know.’
‘Gosh. I can try. You’re right. I should ask him. Tell you what, I’ll go and do it now, before I chicken out.’
‘OK. It’s a shame Elizabeth isn’t here, Mum. I would like to have gone with her.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, it would be good.’
‘The thing is, she may still be here.’
‘Elizabeth is down here?’
‘She stayed at the B & B last night. I don’t know if she’s gone back to London yet.’
‘Can I try and phone her, Mum? Ask her to come?’
Catrin nodded ‘OK. Yes, of course’
Bethan ran out of the room
‘This is really brave of you,’ said Gareth.
‘I don’t feel it.’
‘I can’t come. I’m sorry.’
‘Oh, no. People have told me it’s really quite hard. Maybe it’ll be too much for Dad.’
‘I think your father is physically fit enough. He goes trekking, doesn’t he? I’m not sure about emotionally, though.’
‘He said some really difficult things on Friday. I know he was angry about the audition, but he can be so insensitive.’
‘More than that, he’s been so unkind to you. He doesn’t deserve a daughter like you. He neglected you, and you suffered. You’ve a right to be very angry with him. I know I am.’
‘I probably have made excuses for him for too long. You know, I sometimes wonder if he even loves me. I know that sounds terrible, but I can’t help thinking that.’
‘I’m not sure how capable he is of fully loving anybody. But we can’t change him.’
Catrin was about to fight back, to defend her father, as she always had, but she couldn’t. Instead, she said, ‘I think it’s time I stopped fighting for something my father can’t give me, isn’t it?’
‘Probably.’
‘But he loved Aled.’
‘Did he ever love the real Aled? We love Lowri and Bethan whatever they do. But I think your father just saw the parts of Aled he wanted to. He made him into this saint, but Aled must have known that the love he received from your father was dependent upon him living up to all his expectations. It was an impossible task.’
‘Never something for nothing with my father,’ said Catrin, sadly.
Gareth looked at her earnestly. ‘I love you unconditionally. You do know that, don’t you? I’ve failed at showing it, I know, but I do love you with all my heart. I know I can’t bear to lose you. I do know that you are more important to me than anything.’
Catrin smiled. ‘Thank you. I love you, too.’ She kissed him, then sat back. ‘Right. I’d better go and ask my father about this expedition.’
Safi wagged his tail. Catrin leant down and stroked him. ‘Not you. I don’t want you falling or anything. You stay here safe.’
She smiled nervously at Gareth. ‘Right, wish me luck. I’m not sure which is worse, talking to my father or the thought of crossing the causeway.’
Catrin found her father in the study.
‘Dad, I’ve been talking to Bethan and Lowri. I’ve told them about Mum and about Aled.’
‘What about Aled?’ Lloyd said, turning around. Catrin saw fire flash in his eyes.
‘I told them that Aled was using drugs, that the night he died he had been taking cocaine.’
‘How dare you make up lies about him?’
‘It’s not lies.’
‘You’re just jealous of him. Let’s face it. He had everything you never had: looks, ability.’
‘Stop it, Dad. Stop putting me down all the time.’
The words never reached him. ‘Aled wasn’t an addict. You’re as bad as the people out there. They were the reason I had to bring him back here, or they’d have ruined him with their lies. Tell
ing me my son had problems: he was just young, trying things out.’
‘It was more than that.’
‘No way. He wasn’t like your mother. He could handle himself.’
‘It’s not that. You know it. He was ill.’
‘No. No, he wasn’t.’
Catrin stopped. There seemed no point any more.
‘Listen, Dad. We’re going to go over to Worm’s Head, this evening. It’s time we faced it, owned it. Bethan wants to see the place her father died and own the real Aled. I need to do the same. I need to acknowledge what happened to him, and also Mum. I don’t want to be like her, to be frightened to go there. I’m tired of carrying all this guilt and shame from the past. Dad, I think you should come as well.’
‘No. No way.’
‘I know it’s not an easy walk–’
‘I can manage that. Good God. That’s not the reason.’
‘Then what is it?’
He stood up. ‘I have no interest in all this going over the past.’
‘Fine, your decision. I can’t make you come. I can’t make you face things, but it won’t stop me doing it myself.’
Chapter Thirty Eight
It was a lovely fresh evening. The torrential rain the day before seemed to have washed everything clean. Before they left, Catrin packed up a rucksack with drinks and snacks, and a few other things. Elizabeth called at the house for them. Catrin had never seen her dressed so normally. She was wearing jeans and a T shirt. The trainers looked expensive. Before they left, Catrin suggested she come in and be introduced to Gareth.
The first thing Catrin noticed was the look of surprise on Gareth’s face when he saw Elizabeth. He got up from the sofa and shook her hand formally.
‘It’s good to meet you. I should have done so before. I apologise.’
Elizabeth nodded. Catrin observed how much quieter and more subdued she was than when she had first met her.
‘It’s good to meet. Bethan has had a lovely home with you and Catrin.’
‘Thank you. She looks very like you,’ said Gareth.
‘Yes,’ Elizabeth smiled. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
It was a difficult situation. Time was too limited to talk about all the important things that had happened, but idle chit-chat seemed too trivial.
Catrin coughed. ‘Maybe we ought to make time to chat properly soon. I think everyone is nearly ready to go.’
‘Of course. We’ll see each other again I’m sure,’ said Gareth, ‘but I’m glad to have at least had the chance to say hello.’
‘So am I,’ said Elizabeth. She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief on leaving the room, another hurdle crossed.
Bethan was running around madly looking for things, but eventually they were able to leave the house. Bethan chose to walk with Lowri and Mark. Catrin walked with Elizabeth.
They walked up through the village, then down the steep road to the headland. Cars passed them going up the hill, taking tired families home to their caravans, bed and breakfasts, and holiday homes. Catrin felt nervous as she pushed open the gate at the start of the headland path, but there were plenty of people around. It seemed quiet normal. Catrin glanced at Bethan, but she was happily talking to Lowri.
‘You OK?’ Catrin asked Elizabeth.
‘I think so. It feels odd being here. It feels so different to that night. I don’t have the history with this place that you do.’
‘No, but it was very traumatic for you.’
‘It was.’ She saw Elizabeth’s lip tremble. ‘I was so scared. It’s the smells that take me back more than anything.’ She looked at Catrin. ‘Thank you. I needed to do this.’
‘We both do.’
‘Do you ever dream of that night?’
‘I dream of the causeway; calling for Aled. Do you?’
Elizabeth nodded, but her lips were closed tight.
‘What?’ asked Catrin?
‘I dream I am up here, looking for my baby–’ Tears spilled down her cheeks. Elizabeth wiped them away.
‘You have her now. She’s not lost anymore,’ said Catrin, gently.
They walked on together. They soon reached the coastguard’s hut. Mark checked the board for the crossing times again before they all started the steep climb down to the beginning of the causeway.
Catrin’s heart started to pound as she followed the path down. It was not slippery, despite the rain from the day before. She glanced around, and wondered which rock she had cut her arm on all those years ago.
They reached the bottom, and stood at the edge of the causeway. Catrin had never been here before. It looked a harder walk than she had imagined. It was a long, difficult clamber over large jagged rocks and pools. It didn’t bother Mark, who was already bounding off in front, closely followed by Bethan and Lowri.
Catrin looked back up the slope. There were people sitting eating sandwiches, drinking coffee. She envied them, then realised that she could go back up there, sit with them, and wait for the others to return. No-one would blame her. They would all understand. It was her choice.
‘It’s not an easy walk, is it?’ said Elizabeth.
‘No, harder than I expected.’
‘And me. I’m not used to this sort of thing.’
‘Well, shall we give it a go, then?’
They started together. Ahead, scores of gull screeched. There was a small number of people preparing to cross the causeway. Catrin started to clamber over the rocks. They were still wet, and covered in sharp mussels and other shells. She had never been particularly nimble, and she struggled rather inelegantly across the rocks. She noticed that Elizabeth was finding it even harder, and slowed down to let her catch up. She glanced into a pool, and realised that each rock pool was its own little world. In some there were purple seaweeds floating beneath the rippled clear water, like an oceanic version of the heather on the moors. In one she saw a large crab creeping out from under a rock. The still water of the pools reflected the almost cloudless pale blue sky, and contrasted with the rough grey rocks, with their occasional patches of orange and pink.
As they walked, Catrin felt immersed in sound, with the noise of the wind, the breaking waves, and the calls of birds. She caught up with Mark and Lowri, who were staring into a pool.
‘It’s amazing that anything thrives here,’ Mark was saying. ‘It’s such a harsh environment. Things here have to cope with blistering heat at low tide, and then the full force of strong current when the sea floods the area again. See that little winkle: it has a particularly hard time, as they find it much harder than the stronger limpet to hold on to the rocks. When the tide comes surging back, most of them will be stripped from the rocks and then be tossed and battered by waves, currents, and flying debris like stones and pebbles.’ Catrin thought of the flowers in her garden: the hardy dwarf sunflowers, and thought how Rhossili, for all its beauty, tested the hardiness of its inhabitants.
Eventually, they all reached land on the other side. There was a steep bank to get up. It was Mark who held out a hand to help Catrin up on to the turf. She was relieved to see that he also needed to stop to catch his breath.
‘We are standing on the inner head,’ Mark said. He took out a map of Worm’s Head and explained it to them. She realised Mark was treating them rather like a group of students on a field trip. ‘We walk around here, then come to a stone bridge, Devil’s Bridge. Around the south side, we bear left of Low Neck. We can’t climb to the top of the Outer Head at the moment because of the nesting birds.’ Catrin looked ahead, and back at Rhossili. The isolated white rectory Bethan had asked her about when they had been on the beach looked tiny on the hillside. She couldn’t see Bryn Draig, though. It all looked such a long way away. She lifted her head, felt the strong sea breeze on her face, and heard the screeching chorus of hundreds of seabirds overhead. She had been so worried about coming here, but actually it was wonderful, magical.
Lowri came over to her. ‘See those sheep. Mark was telling me that the farmers who graze sheep here s
ay that the sheep, once they have been here, always stray back to Worm’s Head.’ She laughed. Mark joined them. He started pointing out the Pink Thrift and White Sea Campion, and identified the Herring Gulls, Guillemots, Razorbills, and Kittiwakes, adding, ‘Sorry, no puffins yet today.’
Feeling quite light hearted, Catrin followed the others. They walked around the side of the inner head. Here, the noise from the guillemots and razorbills was deafening. It felt very wild and remote. Ahead stood the enormous natural stone Devil’s bridge. It was then that the sky seemed to darken. It felt cold. Suddenly, Catrin felt fear. Now, she could imagine Aled alone here in the rain and dark. She felt heartbroken at the thought of her brother alone out here. She also felt fury at the drug that had dragged him here, that had killed him, stolen him from her.
They found a sheltered place to sit. It was a bit awkward. They all instinctively knew that something needed to be said or done, but no-one seemed sure what to do. Mark stood up awkwardly. ‘I think I’d like to have a wander around, if that’s OK.’ He set off.
Catrin took control. From her bag she took a photo of Aled, a photo of her mother, and some small bottles of bubbles. She said, ‘From now on we must talk, talk about Grandma Isabel, talk about Aled, and tell their whole story, not just parts. I thought we could blow some bubbles to signify letting go, not of our precious memories, but the guilt, the shame, and the stigma we have all suffered. That way, we can grieve for them, because grief is not about forgetting, it’s about remembering. We can now remember Mum and Aled properly. We’ve come here to untangle the past, but we don’t have to leave here and pretend it never happened. We grieve for them, but we don’t have to be ashamed of them or what happened to them.’
They stood up and started to blow bubbles. There was innocence and beauty in what they did, and soon dozens of bubbles were being blown haphazardly about in the wind. Catrin glanced at the others. They were all looking up, their faces relaxed. Lights and colours bounced off the bubbles and they drifted away or popped noiselessly.
Catrin then held a piece of paper out to Bethan.
‘Can you read and sign this? It’s an ancient Tibetan Buddhist blessing. It’s for each other and for Aled and Grandma Isabel.’