One Moonlit Night

by Caradog Prichard

  Will you come with me, please? she said to Mam and the nice lady, taking no notice of me. And they went with her and I stayed where I was.

  I was feeling really downhearted by this time. I never thought the Asylum would be a place like this, I said to myself. I was expecting to see lots of crazy people. And then suddenly I heard a scream from behind the window and then someone started laughing. I stood up and went to the window and started thinking about poor old Emyr. But I couldn’t see through the window. It’s just someone messing about, I said, and went back to my chair and sat down.

  After a bit, who came in again but the little fat man, and he went straight to the cupboard the same as before, without looking at me. He started looking in his pockets for the key again, only this time time he found it in his waistcoat pocket. And when he’d opened the cupboard, he started taking all sorts of rubbish out of it and putting it all in a pile on the floor. It was as though he was looking for something but he couldn’t find it. And when he’d taken everything out of the cupboard, he put it all back really neatly and locked the door again. Then he put the key in his pocket and started to walk out of the room. But when he got to the door, he stopped and turned round to look at me. Then he walked back to me slowly and looked at me very strangely.

  Do you know who I am? he said.

  No, I don’t, I said.

  Jesus Christ’s brother-in-law, he said.

  Dew, I got a shock. I didn’t know what to do, run out through the door or laugh in his face.

  Oh really? I said in the end.

  But he didn’t say anything else, he just turned on his heel and headed for the door again. And when he reached the door he turned round with a perfectly straight face and said: In my Father’s house there are many mansions.

  And out he went.

  And I just burst out laughing.

  But my mouth snapped shut like a mousetrap when another man came into the room and went to the cupboard. This one was tall and thin and his eyes looked like they were sinking back into his head. He just looked at the cupboard, then turned and came over to me.

  Did you see that man who just came in? he said.

  Yes, I said.

  He’s not a full shilling, you know.

  Isn’t he?

  No, he’s not even a threepenny bit, really.

  And then he went out, too. I got up and went back to the window and looked all over to see if I could find a hole in the white paint, so I could see through. But there wasn’t one and I couldn’t see anything. So I went back and sat down again and waited. And I was still chuckling about the two funny men, the short fat one and the tall thin one.

  At last, the nice lady came back in, on her own, carrying something in her hand.

  Here you are, she said. You’ll have to take this home with you.

  And she put a little parcel, tied with string, in my hand.

  What is it? I said.

  Your Mam’s clothes. And these, too. You’ll have to take these, too.

  And she put two rings in my other hand. One was Mam’s wedding ring, which had worn very thin, and the other ring was the one she always wore with the wedding ring.

  I couldn’t speak. I just looked at the little parcel in my right hand and the two rings in my left. And I tried to think how they’d got all Mam’s clothes into such a small parcel.

  And then I started crying. Not crying like I used to years ago whenever I fell down and hurt myself; and not crying like I used to at some funerals either; and not crying like when Mam went home and left me in Guto’s bed at Bwlch Farm ages ago.

  But crying just like being sick.

  Crying without caring who was looking at me.

  Crying as though it was the end of the world.

  Crying and screaming the place down, not caring who was listening.

  And glad to be crying, the same way some people are glad when they’re singing, and others are glad when they’re laughing.

  Dew, I’d never cried like that before, and I’ve never cried like that since, either. I’d love to be able to cry like that again, just once more.

  And I was still screaming and crying as I went out through the door and down the stone steps and along the gravel drive and through the gate onto the road, until I sat down by the side of the road by the gate. Then I stopped crying and started groaning, just like a cow groans when she’s having a calf, then I started screaming and crying again.

  And there I was, crying and groaning, and groaning and crying when the Corner Shop Motor came along to where I was sitting, and Little Will Policeman’s Dad got out and put me in the back with the nice lady. And when I’d laid there groaning for a while, with the motor flying like the wind, the sound of the engine sent me sound asleep. And I slept all the way home.

  15

  DEW, I WISH I could have her company now, her holding my hand and me with my arm round her, and both of us walking together up to Black Lake. If it was six o’clock at night instead of six in the morning, I’d think it was the same evening, too. Except that I won’t be running into Little Jini Pen Cae, like I did that evening.

  It was only a year since they’d taken Mam away, and the summer holidays had started and I’d left school, and Gran wanted me to go and work in the Quarry and I didn’t want to go.

  It’s time you were earning your keep now, you know, Gran said to me as she cut the bread for tea that evening. Ellis Evans says you can go with him tomorrow and start.

  I don’t want to go to the Quarry, Gran. I’d rather be a servant boy on a farm like Robin. I can get a job at Tal Cafn if I go and ask. And if I can’t, I want to be a sailor like Humphrey Top House.

  Oh, be quiet, you little devil. You and your sailors. You’ll do what I tell you, and go to the Quarry with Ellis Evans tomorrow morning, or I’ll know the reason why not.

  We’ll see about that, I said, and I put my cap on and went out and slammed the door behind me.

  I was out with Robin Gorlan every night after Huw went to the South with his Dad. I’d never got a letter from Huw like he promised, and all we knew about him was that his Mam had moved out of Stables Bridge Terrace and gone to live with them in the South.

  But Robin wasn’t home that afternoon and nobody knew where he’d gone. So I went up Post Lane for a walk. I’ll go up to Black Lake, I said. Maybe Robin’s gone there fishing.

  But instead of Robin, who did I see coming towards me there but Little Jini Pen Cae. I got a shock when I recognised her, cos the last thing I’d heard about her was that they’d taken her away after she’d been with Emyr, Little Owen the Coal’s Brother, in Braich Woods. But there she was, as large as life, in a blue frock and holding a little blue hat with white ribbons on it, and her blonde hair was shining in the sun. She was exactly like that girl I saw when we took Mam away, and her teeth were white, gleaming white, when she laughed.

  Hello, how are you? I haven’t seen you for ages, she said, and her blue eyes were laughing at me. Have you left school?

  Yes, I’ve just left. Well, fancy meeting you here.

  I’m at Black Lake Farm. Hey, it’s a lovely night, isn’t it?

  Oh yes. Where are you going?

  For a walk, into the Village. Where are you going?

  For a walk, to Black Lake. Well, I was.

  And we both went to the side of the road and leaned on the gate to look at the sheep grazing in the field. There was another field beyond that one, and another after that. And the last one was full of rushes going down to the River as it flowed very slowly through the flatland and twisted like a snake till it disappeared in the middle of Braich Woods in the distance. And there was the mountain, just like it is now, reaching up into the sky.

  This field belongs to Black Lake Farm, doesn’t it? I said.

  Yes, and the other two that go down to the River, as well. All these fields all around us belong to Black Lake Farm, and all those all the way to Black Lake.

  Dew, they must be very rich, the people at Black Lake Farm.

  The
y are. And they’re nice people, too. Would you like to come for a walk to the Riverbank over the fields?

  Dew, yes.

  Help me over this gate, then. If you hold this hat, I can climb over on my own.

  Alright, then.

  While I was standing with her hat in my hand and making sure she didn’t fall, she lifted one leg over the gate and I could see all her underskirt, and half her bare thigh. And she was so wonderful, sitting there on top of the gate, looking down at me and laughing at me with her blue eyes and white teeth, and her hair shining in the sun.

  I’ll take the hat now, so you can get up, she said, taking her hat and jumping down into the field. And I jumped after her.

  It’s lovely over there, down by the River, she said. I go there all the time when I take Toss for a walk.

  Who’s Toss?

  The dog from Black Lake Farm, of course.

  Is that Black Lake Farm over there then, where Black Lake goes out of sight?

  Yes, didn’t you know?

  I wasn’t quite sure. But I went there once, ages ago. I’d got lost picking bilberries and went to ask for a glass of water. And I got a glass of milk and a big slice of bread and butter from the lady. Dew, yes, they must be nice people. How old’s Toss?

  Oh, he’s just a puppy. He’s only six months old.

  It wasn’t him I saw that time, then. That Toss was fourteen.

  Oh yes, he died, that one.

  The rushes had grown high in the field closest to the River and we had to watch where we were going in case we lost the sheep track. But Jini knew her way okay, and I kept close behind her. She was bending forward a little as she went through the rushes and her hair had parted into two long plaits and they were falling one each side over her shoulders and her breasts. And she hadn’t closed two buttons on the back of her frock near her neck and a bit of her back was bare. And the frills on her petticoat were showing under her blue frock as she bent forward, and her legs looked more shapely from behind than they had when I was looking at her when I’d met her on Post Lane. And her wonderful smell mixed with the lovely smell of the grass and the rushes was making it hard for me to breathe. And when I thought she was going to trip, I put both arms out and grabbed her.

  Watch you don’t fall, I said.

  Ah, don’t tickle me, she said, and the sound of her laughter filled the air. And she started running towards the Riverbank, and the two white ribbons on her hat were flying in the air. And I ran after her.

  When we reached the clearing by the Riverbank, she threw herself onto the ground and turned over, flat on her back, with both her arms out, and her little blue hat in her right hand, and her legs wide apart too and her skirt up to her knees and her petticoat showing.

  Dew, it’s hot, she said, and blew a strand of blonde hair away from her face. Come and lie down.

  And I lay down on my back beside her.

  The sky was blue like it was when I was lying on my back in the bilberry bushes on top of Foel Garnedd ages ago. But I didn’t think about Heaven’s floor this time. I saw the sky full of blue eyes laughing at me, and every one of them was Little Jini Pen Cae’s. And it wasn’t as quiet as it had been on the top of Foel Garnedd either, the River was making a lovely sound like lots of people talking to each other all around us and saying the same thing over and over again. And I remembered the huge pendulum on Next Door’s clock going tick … tock … tick … tock as though nothing had happened that day. And I could hear Jini breathing by my side, out of breath after running.

  Can you swim? she said, eventually.

  Course I can. I could swim when I was ten. My cousin Guto taught me to swim in Swirling Lake at Bwlch Farm ages ago. Dew, he was a strong lad, Guto.

  You’re a strong lad too, aren’t you?

  Yes, fairly strong. Can you swim?

  I can a bit. Enough to cross the River.

  And Jini sat up with a straw between her teeth. Do you see Pen Rallt Wen over there, on the other side of the River?

  Yes, I said, still lying down and staring up into the sky. And all I could see was thousands of blue eyes laughing at me.

  Do you fancy a race with me across the river and up to Pen Rallt Wen?

  How will we get across the River?

  Dive in, of course, and swim.

  And get soaked to the skin?

  We’ll take our clothes off, of course. Nobody’ll see us from Post Lane. The rushes will hide us.

  And run up Rallt Wen stark naked?

  Yes, of course, she said, and leaned down to me and put her two soft hands on my face. Yes, of course, she said very slowly. Yes, of course, stark … naked.

  And I took hold of her and turned her onto her back and started kissing her like someone who’d gone mad. And she put her arms around me and squeezed me tight. And after we’d been like that for a long time, she let go of me and started pushing me off her. But her rosy cheeks were as red as fire.

  Dew, I would have been out of breath before I got halfway to the top of Rallt Wen, she said, and we lay there with our heads close together. When did you leave School?

  Yesterday, when School broke up. They want me to go to work in the Quarry and I want to be a farm boy or else go to sea.

  Why don’t you be a farm boy at Black Lake Farm? They want a farm boy there.

  Dew, yes. Do they really?

  Yes, really.

  We could be together every night then.

  That’s right.

  And come here all the time.

  That’s right.

  And race across the River.

  That’s right.

  After taking our clothes off.

  Yes.

  Stark naked.

  Yes.

  You undressing me and me undressing you.

  Yes.

  Like this.

  And like this.

  And like this.

  She was the only girl I ever had.

  But they were lying when they said that I’d thrown Little Jini Pen Cae into the River when they found her clothes on the Riverbank. The last thing I remember is seeing her sleeping quietly and I started thinking about Price the School taking her through that door in School and Em, Little Owen the Coal’s Brother taking her to Braich Woods. And I was looking at her and thinking she was such a pretty little thing, and she had such a soft little throat, as white as linen, and her cheeks were red and as hot as fire. And putting my hands round her throat and kissing her as she slept, and starting to squeeze her.

  It was terribly late when I got home that night, and Gran had gone to bed. But I’d decided what to do. I’d decided that I was never going to go to that damned old Quarry with Ellis Evans Next Door. I was going to run away to sea like Humphrey Top House did when he was a boy and like Arthur Tan Bryn when he ran away to join the army when the War was on. If Huw could go to the South and get work in a coal mine, I could go to Liverpool and get work on a ship. The only thing was, I only had a shilling in my pocket, but Liverpool wasn’t as far as the South and if I started walking along Post Lane past Glanaber I’d be sure to get a lift from someone.

  I went into the back kitchen to fetch the bread from the breadbin and I cut lots of slices and wrapped them in paper and put them in my overcoat pocket, and put my cap back on. But before putting the light out and going out, I took the candle to the mantelpiece to have one more look at the picture. It was a picture of Mam and Gran that had been taken on the day of Auntie Ellen’s funeral. And the two of them were standing there dressed in black, with Mam looking young beside Gran, wearing that little black hat with the flat brim, like Hughes the Parson’s hat. And even though they were both smiling at the photographer, it was easy enough to see that their eyes were still full of tears from the funeral.

  And poor Gran, looking so old. She’d been very good to me since they took Mam away, even though we were always rowing. She’d be sure to worry in the morning, seeing my bed not slept in and not knowing where I was. I’d better leave her a little note, I said. And I f
ound a piece of paper and wrote:

  Don’t worry about me, Gran. I’ve gone away to work, just like Huw. I’ll come back one day with a lot of money and buy you loads of posh clothes.

  Then I put the note on the table with the bread knife on top of it in case the wind blew it onto the floor. And went to the mantelpiece once more before snuffing the candle.

  Oh, I’ll take this with me, I said, and shoved the picture into my inside pocket.

  I could make out the Lockup Clock in the light of the street lamp as I went down the Street. It was half past two. But everywhere else was as dark as could be. But I could have walked as far as the Sheep Field with my eyes shut, cos I knew every single paving stone on both sides of the Street, and every lamp post and every telegraph pole, and every grid. And I knew where the pavement stopped and where it started again, and where Post Lane started without any pavement at the start of Lôn Newydd.

  I wasn’t a bit scared either as I got to the Sheep Field, like I used to be years before with Huw and Moi, or on my own, whistling like a fool as I went by in case I saw a ghost or a bogeyman. And it was nice to be able to leave the Village in the dark, without seeing the shops or the School or the Church or any houses or anything. Because if I’d left in daylight, they’d have made me feel too homesick and maybe I would have broken my heart before I even got to the Sheep Field and turned round and gone to work in the Quarry with Ellis Evans.

  I was okay once I’d passed the Sheep Field, cos it wasn’t so dark then, and I was walking so quickly that I’d reached Glanaber before I realised where I was. And I was thinking how fine it would be to go on a ship and see the sea, and remembering how I saw it for the first time from the top of the Foel, sitting with Ceri. And I wouldn’t have been caught either if that man who gave me a lift outside Glanaber hadn’t asked where I was from and then stopped his lorry near Liverpool to speak to a policeman.

  * * *

  Streuth, Black Lake at last. Someone must have pulled this wall down, cos I used to have to climb on top of it to see Black Lake, and now it only comes up to my knees. And I can see over it kneeling down like this. Ooh, my feet hurt. I’ll take these old shoes off for a minute or two.