David kissed her. ‘I know exactly what you mean.’ He grinned. ‘Now all we’ve got to do is persuade Huw and Rhiannon and work out exactly what we are going to do with Plas Eden.’
Carys smiled. ‘Oh, I think between us we’ll be able to come up with something. We make a pretty invincible team, remember?’
David laughed as he pulled her towards him. ‘You can say that again.’
They stood together in silence for a while, looking down into the ever-flowing waters of the Thames. Then, arm in arm, holding each other close, they made their way through the cheerful jostle of the crowds. Past Big Ben and St James’ Park: making their way towards Buckingham Palace and the green heart of the city.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘It looks just like it used to when you were children and your dad was alive,’ sighed Mair Evans on the morning of Christmas Eve, gazing round at Willow Cottage with the happy gleam of nostalgia in her eyes. ‘You’ve worked miracles, Carys.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about miracles,’ replied Carys, mentally checking off her list of preparations for Gwenan and Nia and their families to descend complete with carols at midnight in Pont-ar-Eden square. ‘As long as it looks festive. And I think we’ve certainly managed that between us.’
Mam smiled. She was looking tired after the exertions of shopping for presents and sorting through the old decorations during the past few weeks, but there was colour in her cheeks and a gleam in her eye. She hadn’t had all her children home together for Christmas in years, and who know when it might happen again. She was going to make the most of it.
Willow Cottage shone clean and sparkling in the cold, clear sunlight. In order to keep Mam from taking over the broom and the mop and wearing herself out completely, Carys had kept her firmly supplied with holly and mistletoe, brought over in large armfuls from the Eden estate, defying each knowing glance as she made her way down Pont-ar-Eden high street.
Mair Evans had once been famous in Pont-ar-Eden for her winter wreaths. It was a pleasure to see her getting back into the swing of things, binding sprigs of red berries and milky mistletoe into glossy circles that adorned the front door and the kitchen. Longer swags of greenery dotted with tiny white rice-lights wound around the banisters in the hallway and over the paintings in the sitting room.
For the past few years, Mam had brought out the old faithful artificial Christmas tree, but a few days ago Carys had given in to the temptation of the largest fir leaning outside the grocery shop, and returned with Sara Jones’ husband Alun clutching the other end, clearly delighted that someone other than Rhiannon at Plas Eden was going overboard this Christmas.
The tree now took up one corner of the sitting room from floor to ceiling, sending the cut-pine scent oozing through the house, between the richness of freshly cooked mince pies and the burnt-wax smell of the fat red advent candles nestled happily amongst Mam’s tour de force of berries and prickly leaves.
Carys made room for the last of the Christmas cards on the crowded mantelpiece and stood back to admire her handiwork. ‘Tea?’
‘That sounds good,’ said Mam, who had the look of one who needed a good sit down and a nap before her family could arrive.
‘Then I suppose we’d better get changed.’ Carys peered out into the slant of morning sun that was sending the mountains into sharp relief against a pale blue sky. ‘I know they were talking about a white Christmas this year, but it doesn’t look like it at the moment.’
Mam joined her. ‘It’ll snow,’ she said. ‘Look, there are clouds gathering over Moel Eden already. Those look like snow clouds to me.’
‘Maybe,’ said Carys, not entirely convinced.
‘They are. You mark my words. Besides, you can smell it on the air.’
‘I didn’t know you could smell snow.’
‘Of course you can,’ replied Mam, smiling. She tucked her arm through Carys’. ‘It’s been good having you here,’ she said. ‘You’ve been wonderful, cariad.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it.’ Carys watched her anxiously. ‘And I’m not going anywhere, Mam. Even when I move into Eden Farm, I’ll still be popping in to see you, and I won’t be far away. You know you can call on me, whenever you need me.’
‘Now stop fussing. I’ll be fine. You know you’re going to have your work cut out getting a business started in Pont-ar-Eden.’ Mam sighed. ‘That’s my only regret, you know. That your dad didn’t live to see you bringing that old walled garden back to life.’
‘If I can,’ muttered Carys. Thank heaven for the mild autumn, but even with the help of the growing number of allotment holders, clearing the walled garden of weeds ready for the spring planting was proving a mammoth task. But she was determined to do it without recourse to too much machinery, rediscovering in each corner the evidence of fruit and vegetable beds left by her ancestors. After all, they were the ones who knew how best to use every patch of ground to its most productive potential.
And then there was the small matter of Plas Eden…
‘You’ll make it, cariad,’ Mam was saying. ‘If anyone can, you can. I never worried about you, you know.’
‘You don’t need to worry about me, Mam,’ smiled Carys.
‘No.’ Mam was thoughtful. ‘You know, nothing ever quite prepares you for being a mother. You try to be fair, and do your best. But sometimes the whole experience is so overwhelming, it’s just survival that takes over.’
‘You were a brilliant mother,’ said Carys stoutly.
‘Thank you, darling. It’s very sweet of you to say so. But I’m afraid I was not always fair.’
‘Mam…’
‘No, listen cariad. Nia was always so clinging, and Gwenan … well Gwenan was always a bit of a handful, if I’m honest. Always so set on getting her own way. I never knew quite how to deal with her. I was such a dreamer when I was a girl; I never thought what it would be like to be grown up. And, well it wasn’t anything you really talked about, in those days. Then it happened so fast, once I met your dad. I think maybe I was still in shock for half of my life. And you were always the one that was so quiet. So sensible.’ With her free hand, she was adjusting the set of a bunch of holly on the windowsill. ‘I should have known. When I used to help with the children’s reading at Pont-ar-Eden Primary, it was always the quiet ones that were overlooked. You noticed the very good and the very naughty. But sometimes, it seems to me, it’s the ones in the middle, who simply get on with things and don’t demand your attention, who are the ones who may need the most, after all.’
‘You’re my mam, and I wouldn’t have you any other way,’ said Carys, kissing her mother.
Mair smiled. ‘Dear me,’ she said, feeling in her pocket for a tissue, ‘we haven’t half finished, and those girls will be here any moment.’
‘They’re going to meet at the hotel first,’ replied Carys. ‘Gwenan’s arranged for them all to have lunch there, and then come on here for the evening.’
‘What were they thinking of?’ said Mair, who had entirely forgotten this arrangement in the flurry of preparations. ‘There’s no need for that. We’ve plenty of food here.’
‘Gwenan thought it might be easier if they all got themselves settled first,’ said Carys. ‘And, anyhow,’ she added with an affectionate smile, ‘we all want to make the most of you for the next few days, and we don’t want to tire you out straight away. Where would the fun be in that?’
‘Nonsense. I’m not in the least tired,’ stated Mam, who was by now heading for the nearest chair, hardly able to keep her eyes open.
‘I’ll make that tea.’ Carys slipped out into the hallway so that Mam didn’t have to fight the doze that was rapidly overcoming her.
As she reached the kitchen, the telephone rang. Carys grabbed it hastily, cutting off the summoning peal before it could disturb Mam.
‘Nia hasn’t got here yet,’ came Gwenan’s voice, tired and decidedly in full night-before-Christmas stress. A cacophony of squabbling teenagers erupted in the background. ‘Her mobile’s
switched off. We’ve got lunch booked in half an hour.’
Carys took a deep breath. ‘They’ll be there,’ she said, soothingly. ‘I expect the traffic from Birmingham is really busy. You know what the reception is like once you get near the mountains. They’re probably just going through a bad spot…’ She jumped as the mobile in her pocket bleeped and vibrated. ‘Just a minute, Gwenan. I think this could be Nia now.’
‘I keep on getting ‘missed call’ from Gwenan on my mobile,’ wailed Nia’s voice, though a crackle of breaking signal and a background of Sam and the children halfway through ‘Silent Night’. ‘Tell her we’ll be there as soon as we can. Sam forgot his toothbrush, so we called in Talarn first.’
‘I’m sure they’d have had toothbrushes in Pont-ar-Eden,’ came Sam’s voice, over a mildly hysterical ‘our Sav-ior is boorn’ from William and Alexandra in the back seat.
‘Not electric ones, and you know they are much better for your gums,’ said Nia.
‘Chri-ist our Sav-iour is born,’ roared out Sam, in reply.
Carys stifled a giggle. ‘Look, don’t worry about it, Nia. I’ll let Gwenan know. She can always put back the lunch booking if need be.’ Nia mollified, Carys turned her attention back to the landline. ‘They’re nearly there, Gwenan. They’re just on their way back from Talarn. Something about last minute Christmas presents,’ she lied blithely.
‘Nia is always so disorganised,’ sighed Gwenan.
At a padding of footsteps behind her, Carys turned to find Mam back on full alert, watching her with an anxious expression, and clearly with motorway pile-ups and suddenly collapsing bridges looming large in her mind.
‘It’s fine,’ she mouthed silently, before turning her attention back to her elder sister. ‘Look, Gwenan, why don’t you see if you can arrange for lunch to be put back a bit. I’m sure they won’t mind if you let them know now. After all, they know you’re both coming quite a distance, and traffic is always bad on Christmas Eve, so it can’t be entirely unexpected. That way, you can all get unpacked and have a relaxing drink before you eat. We’re not going to have a meal until late here, anyway.’
‘Okay.’ The stress eased a little in Gwenan’s voice. ‘If that’s okay with Mam, of course.’
‘Mam’s saying yes,’ replied Carys, smiling at her mother, who was shaking her head in mild exasperation.
‘Okay. I’ll talk to them.’ Gwenan’s voice sharpened. ‘And what are all those cameras doing at Plas Eden?’
‘Cameras?’
‘A full film crew,’ said Gwenan. ‘They were heading into the woods where the statues are. The van said ‘BBC Wales’ on the side.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Carys. ‘Long story. They must be wanting to get some pictures of Plas Eden before the work starts. They’re going to be following David over the next year. It’s turned out to be quite an exciting project, especially the statues. We’ll tell you all about it over supper.’
Gwenan suitably intrigued, Carys placed the phone back in its receiver. Her eyes met those of Mam’s. ‘It seems they’ve started filming already.’
‘Well, then let’s hope it snows for them,’ said Mam. ‘Plas Eden always did look like a picture postcard in the snow.’
‘Mmm,’ replied Carys. A sudden feeling of sadness had overcome her. ‘I can’t imagine Plas Eden without Rhiannon next year. It won’t be quite the same, will it?’
‘But at least Plas Eden will be there,’ said Mam. ‘Even if she doesn’t live there any more, Rhiannon will be back to visit. I know she’s looking forward to it, and this thing in America is a marvellous opportunity for her, but I’ve got a feeling there’s part of Rhiannon that will stay in Plas Eden forever. And that, in the end, is what counts.’
‘Like Nainie’s mother, and Grandmother Judith, and all those people from Pont-ar-Eden.’
‘Exactly,’ said Mam. ‘I think it’s wonderful. And so clever of you to spot it.’
‘I didn’t really,’ smiled Carys. ‘It was you and everyone at the Boadicea going through all those old photographs and finding out about all the people in them. Without that, I’d never have made the connection. And anyhow, it was you and Dad who took me to that exhibition of Julia Margaret Cameron’s photographs when I was a kid. That’s what was niggling at me, the moment I saw the old photographs of Plas Eden. I should have known.’
‘You mean because Julia Margaret Cameron used her domestic servants as models for her photographs?’
‘Yes. I wonder if that’s what gave Nainie’s mother the idea to use the people of Pont-ar-Eden as models for her statues?’ She frowned, searching her mind. ‘And I suppose Granddad’s photographs of the ordinary people around him, as well. Except I have a feeling it was more than that. When I look at the statues now, it feels as if she just simply loved human beings, in all their strengths and their weaknesses. And I suppose the story of a life you can see in a face.’
‘My argument for not having Botox, any day,’ said Mam, brightly.
Carys laughed. ‘Me too.’
‘And maybe it was Pont-ar-Eden,’ said Mam.
‘Pont-ar-Eden?’
‘Yes. You know, I’m sure both those women were happy here. Nainie’s mother creating the statues, your grandmother creating the garden for them. Both of them doing what they loved, and with husbands and children, and a community that accepted them for what they were, not for some idea of what they ought to be. I think Nainie’s mother created those statues out of love, not just for her husband and her children, but the people in the village, too. It’s like I’ve always said, cariad: Pont-ar-Eden isn’t such a bad place to live, after all.’
‘Yes, Mam.’
Behind them the kettle boiled.
‘Perhaps we should make that a sherry,’ said Mam. ‘It is Christmas, after all. Although I’m sure you’d prefer a glass of red wine.’
Carys smiled. ‘Well, maybe. But I know you like sherry.’ She peered out of the window. ‘I think you’re right, Mam. Those clouds are thickening over the mountains. Looks like it might snow, after all.’
By the time the short day turned towards dusk, a light sprinkling of snow covered the landscape around Plas Eden. From Nainie’s bench on the ridge behind the house, the Eden estate lay spread out, a network of houses, trees and roads marked in black like a sketch in charcoal amidst the soft gleam of white.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ said Carys, a little shyly, as she approached the slight figure sitting alone on the bench.
‘Stunning,’ replied Rhiannon. ‘I think I shall never tire of looking at Plas Eden, whatever the season and whatever the light.’ She stuffed a camera deep inside the pocket of her padded walking coat and pulled on her gloves. ‘Are you going to join me?’
‘I don’t want to disturb you.’
‘Not at all.’ A faint smile appeared on Rhiannon’s face. ‘Do I detect a fellow escapee from last-minute Christmas preparations?’
Carys laughed. ‘I suppose so. Plus David said I might find you up here.’
‘Oh?’ enquired Rhiannon as Carys sat down beside her. ‘Nothing wrong, is there?’
‘Oh, no. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. About Eden Cottage, I mean.’
‘Of course,’ replied Rhiannon. ‘It makes perfect sense for you and David to settle in the cottage. I don’t know why anyone didn’t think of that solution before.’
‘But we don’t need to stay there, not once the work on Plas Eden has been done. There will still be room in the east wing, even though most of it is being turned into function rooms and being set up for courses. David and I could still live there. We don’t have to live in the cottage forever.’
‘If I wanted to use Eden Cottage as my home when I’m in the UK, you mean?’
‘Yes. David says you’re fine about it, but I don’t want to feel that I’m throwing you out of your own home. Not after everything.’
Rhiannon let her gaze travel over the winter landscape below them. ‘I will always love Eden,’ she said quietly. ‘It will al
ways be my home. And yes, there’s something very sad about packing away the remains of my life here. But I’m also looking forward. When I leave for America, it will be to a completely new life.’ She smiled. ‘Funny, isn’t it? I feel like a teenager, just about to leave home for college. I’m a bit scared, but I know I have to go.’
‘But you’ll be coming back?’
‘Keep me away! I’ll be back for visits and to see the new Eden. I’ll want to keep up with how the courses and the B&B is coming along. I’m happy to run painting courses, if you and David are still interested.’
‘Yes, of course. That’s what gave us the idea for concentrating on functions and courses in that wing of the house in the first place.’
Rhiannon smiled. ‘I wouldn’t want to see you and David crammed into the new flat in the east wing. At least in the cottage you’ll have space to call your own and a chance at a normal life. It makes much more sense for me to use the flat, or the barn conversion David is talking about as a studio and place to run my painting courses, if they take off.’
Carys hesitated. She didn’t want to start her own new life with a shadow hanging in the background. ‘You know, don’t you, Rhiannon, that I love David with all my heart, and that’s why I want to be with him?’
‘Of course.’
‘And you don’t still think I’ve agreed to marry him just because of Plas Eden?’
Rhiannon, she found, was scrutinising her face. ‘Was that what you thought? When David wanted to marry you, all those years ago, was that what you thought?’
‘I don’t mind. And I understand. In your place I’d probably have thought the same. And anyhow, who is to say it wasn’t true? I just don’t want you to think it’s true now.’
‘Oh, Carys.’ Rhiannon reached out with her gloved hand to touch Carys’ face. ‘I didn’t know you thought that way. I believed you and David marrying so young was a mistake, yes. But I never meant you to take it like that. It wasn’t David I was worried about, it was you.’
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