He slithered down and ran, shouting her name, towards the group of men he could now see approaching the beach. He had to look down to prevent catching his feet on the storm-strewn rocks, eyes filled with anxious tears so when he looked up he did not recognize them, thought them a band of ruffians, ex-soldiers maybe, bent on mischief, and he paused, disappointed and prepared to run back to the shore. Then his heart somersaulted within him as he saw that the group was the village men released from prison, and sadly he knew that the jubilation was not for the rescue of Olwen.
‘Keep back, boy,’ Spider shouted, barely recognizable in tattered clothes and a scruffy beard, hair unkempt and flying in the wind like a tattered sail, ‘It’s we’re the ones with fleas now!’
‘Spider, it’s Olwen. She’s been missing in the storm all night,’ Barrass shouted, and the joyous singing stopped as if cut off by the baton of a fine conductor. But it was not his words that stopped them. They had been unheard. He watched in disbelief as the men stripped off their clothes and threw them in a pile on the sand. With wild shouts that sent a flock of gulls into the air with clacking complaint, they ran through the dunes, the mud and the rocks and dived into the water.
They played like children, washing themselves clear of the stink and infestations of the prison cell where they had been incarcerated for more than two weeks. Barrass ran to where they shouted and called and splashed but he couldn’t make anyone listen. A pair of legs appeared as their owner stood on his hands under the waves – long and skinny, they could only be Dan’s. He saw Spider like an amputee crab leap on Pitcher’s muscled back and allow himself to be carried out further and tossed over humped shoulders into deeper water in gales of excited laughter.
‘Get a tinder and burn them clothes, boy, will you?’ Spider shouted. ‘We’re never wearing them again!’ Then seeing the consternation on Barrass’s face, he stopped, hushed the others and listened as Barrass shouted,
‘It’s Olwen! Missing in the storm she is, lost since last night.’
The splashing and foolishness stopped as suddenly as the singing as the men strode out of the water and without bothering about their nakedness, discussed this new tragedy. No one gave a spoken instruction but they formed an orderly group, lined up in threes and trotted through the village, each man breaking off when he came to his home. Starting with fifteen, there were still ten naked and unshaven men running towards them when Emma and her three daughters came out of the alehouse to step into their waggon.
She screamed and fell back in a faint – which she thought the most ladylike way of coping with the terrifying sight. Before she fell, she begged her daughters to cover their eyes. She kept hers tightly closed and so did not see Pitcher run towards her, and it was only when he tried to carry her indoors and failed to lift her that she realized who the men were.
‘Pitcher! They’ve driven you mad! My dear husband has been driven insane! Oh dear, what will I do!’ She screamed at her girls to turn away and walk into the house, then, using her woollen tartan cloak to cover what she could of her husband’s anatomy, she staggered with him into the house, sobbing and crying in her embarrassment and her relief at his safe return.
Violet paused at the door, but after a brief and undisguised stare at the wild-looking men in their nakedness, she looked at Barrass. He was dressed in good wool-cloth trousers in brown tweed and a Welsh flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up his strong arms. There were leather gaiters around his calves and she could not look away from him. He stepped towards her, his eyes holding such longing that a faint cry escaped her lips before she turned and ran to join her family.
For a moment Barrass forgot Olwen, then he turned from the door and ran to catch up with Spider, whose long, skinny legs were causing laughter and jeering among those honest enough to stand and watch, and more hesitant amusement for those who only peered from behind curtains and shutters.
A young man from the quarry ran down with some reed pipes and began playing a lively tune to which the naked men started to dance while continuing on their way, their legs kicking in the air in bawdy abandon. Children appeared like magic and began to dance after them, jeering and laughing. Old women covered their faces with their aprons but peered brazenly over the edges, their faces red with uncontrollable laughter.
When the rest had dispersed among the scattered houses, Spider ran beside Barrass up the hill to where Mary was waiting. Arthur from the alehouse had seen the men and, witnessing their march around the houses, found time to go and warn Mary of Spider’s homecoming. She ignored the laughter that Spider’s followers could not hide, and got on with preparing for her skinny husband’s enormous appetite while telling him all she knew about Olwen’s disappearance.
She had bread and cheese set out neatly on the small table, and clothes airing near the fire, but Spider ignored both and clung to her, whispering her name, telling her of his love, and Barrass stood there, wondering how they could even think of each other when their daughter was missing. Then guilt made him remember how the thought of Violet returning to him had made his mind wander from its purpose. His disapproval and his guilt showed in his dark eyes when they released each other and Spider began to dress.
‘Tell me, where have you searched?’ As he ate and dressed, Spider absorbed the facts, then, with another hug for Mary, set off to look for his daughter.
‘But where’s Dan?’ Mary shouted after them.
‘Gone to see Enyd, I think,’ Spider shouted back. ‘Don’t worry, he’s perfectly all right.’
‘Visiting without any clothes on?’ Mary screamed. ‘What’s the matter with the boy?’
‘Love, I think.’ The words drifted back on the wind as Spider and Barrass disappeared down the path.
* * *
Kenneth heard the commotion and, with Ceinwen and Enyd, stood outside his door on the bank high above the path, from where he had a clear view through the village. At first they did not realize that the men they were watching were without clothes, they thought it was some mad game, bathing in the cold month of October. Young men often challenged each other to such crazy dares. But as they watched, each of them slowly saw that the men were naked, only body hair and unshaved beards covering them. Enyd held her breath and said nothing, curious and hoping her father would not realize before she had had a good look. Ceinwen also ignored the truth. She screwed up her eyes, fascinated to have such an unusual and interesting view of her well-known neighbours. But Kenneth gave a roar of anger and pushed them both inside as soon as his slower eyes appraised the situation. He warned them to stay inside and stood waiting to see what the explanation could be. Then a man broke off from the rest and came his way.
‘Dan!’ Kenneth said, his voice full of disapproval.
‘Can I see Enyd?’ Dan asked, his young face smiling as he covered as much as he could of his unacceptable parts with his long, slender hands.
‘Damn me, boy! No, you can’t! Get away from here and make yourself decent!’ Kenneth waved the boy away, then turned round in horror as Dan apparently waved at someone looking out of the window. ‘Enyd! Get you away from that window! Have you no shame!’
‘Lend me a coat or a blanket then, will you,’ Dan insisted. ‘I’ll clap hands if you say no, mind.’
Agitatedly Kenneth turned round and round, wondering who to shout at next, the boy or his women, then he called for a blanket.
‘And shut your eyes when you bring it out!’ he added with hysteria in his voice.
Dan wrapped the blanket around him and said, ‘Now can I see Enyd?’
‘Take one step nearer and I’ll report all this to the Keeper of the Peace,’ Kenneth warned. ‘Causing a public disturbance this is for sure.’
Dan shrugged and walked away, with a pretence at waving to someone at the window, which made Kenneth turn around again in rage.
At the bottom of the track leading to Kenneth’s house, where there was a seat on which the elders of the village sat and smoked their clay pipes on warm summer afternoons, Cale
b, a cottager, waited for him. He sprawled relaxed and unconcerned about his nakedness as if enjoying the sun. That his skin was blue with the cold he seemed not to notice. He stood up as Dan came towards him.
‘You got one then,’ he said, gesturing towards the blanket.
‘Told you he wouldn’t refuse,’ Dan laughed. ‘I’d rather frighten him than my mam! Come on, let’s get home and then we can go and find that sister of mine. Sheltered somewhere along the coast she has for sure.’ And sharing the blanket between them they walked home.
* * *
The search for Olwen continued all through that day and when darkness began to close in and threaten them with another night of anxiety, Barrass discussed the coastline with Dan and Spider.
‘It would have been westwards she’d have gone from what I’ve understood of the freak storm, if she had been outside the bay,’ Spider said. ‘There’s stretches of coast without any beach to speak of and she’s probably sheltering against the rocks somewhere.’
‘Without shelter and food, she’ll be in a sorry state if she isn’t found tonight,’ Dan whispered. His mother was standing at the door, holding Dic and staring at where the track led up from the village, wanting to see as far as she could for the earliest glimpse of her lost daughter.
‘I’ll go along the cliff path and call,’ Dan said, for his mother to hear. ‘Got a loud voice I have, she’ll hear me for sure.’
‘I’ll go across to the next bay and search from there,’ Spider said.
But Barrass knew he had already covered that area and he decided to run for as long as the light held, then continue on, working his way along the distant shores where they had not yet searched beyond the bay of Caswell. The wind had been stronger than the men in prison would have realized, although they had seen the boulders and stones brought in by the sea and could guess at its ferocity. Most winds came from the west, this one had been easterly.
With food in their pockets for when they found her, the three men set off.
* * *
During the hours of daylight Olwen had entered the cave, just as far as the light travelled, leaving the darkness deep under the cliff unexplored. She found a few rags, and remnants of a fire suggesting that someone had sheltered here before. There were tapers too, and she wished she had some means of lighting them. Light would have been almost as comforting as a fire. There were empty boxes too, some broken, but with nothing to hint at their previous contents. She sat on one of them, wrapped the old tattered clothes about her and waited for the sound of someone calling her name. She did not stay in the cave long, but wandered outside, seeing the sea rising once again towards afternoon, and saw in its dark surface the remnants of her father’s boat.
‘If I live, he’ll kill me,’ she sobbed aloud.
With her father in prison and no boat to catch fish, how would she and her mother and baby Dic manage? Winter was fast approaching and it was frightening how quickly the store vessels of flour and oatmeal and all the other essentials were emptied. The thought that her mother would not even have her, Olwen, to help was a thought that froze her blood.
As darkness fell she sat outside the cave, glancing out to sea in the hope of seeing a boat searching for her. She held the ragged clothes she had found in the cave to wave, should anyone come close enough to see her. All day there had not been a sign of a vessel of any kind.
The wind was wailing slightly around the rocky cliffs, and she began to imagine the sound of a voice in its song. Then, her heart racing, she realised that it was not imagination. It was her name, and the voice calling her was Barrass’s. He had found her.
‘Barrass! I’m here!’
Using the rope he carried, Barrass lowered himself down to join her and held her close in his arms while she cried in relief. She was such a tiny little thing and he had feared he would never see her again. He was overwhelmed by a powerful feeling of protective love, his arms tightened around her and it was a long time before they moved.
When she began to climb the rocks, using specially good hand and foot holds to rest periodically, Barrass was behind her, determined she would not fall, and when they reached the top, he asked her why she still carried the bundle of rags.
‘I don’t know,’ she said, shivering with the cold night wind. ‘I suppose they saved me from being frozen and too stiff to leave the cave. They were to be a flag if I saw one of the boats looking for me.’
‘You don’t need them any longer, I’m here and from now on I always will be. I let you down yesterday or you’d never have set out in such dangerous weather. But I won’t, ever again.’ He picked her up and carried her back in the dark along the tracks, her arms around his neck, her head tucked into his neck. Olwen was so happy she cried all over again.
* * *
Olwen’s family were in trouble – with no boat they had no livelihood. For several days Dan and Spider tried to fish in the river, but eels were their only catch. And fishing from the shore with borrowed lines was no more successful.
In the front garden of Mrs Powell’s house at the top of the row of cottages rising up from the beach, there was an old boat. The gunnels were rotted away, there were no oars, several of the planks were splintered, and the outside was badly in need of caulking and repainting, but Barrass knocked on the door one day and asked if he could buy it.
‘I haven’t much money,’ he admitted, as the keen dark eyes of the frail old woman looked from him to the boat, assessing her chances. For years it had only provided shelter to a wild cat, snails and several dozen spiders. She doubted if it were still usable, but if it meant a little money, she was not going to say so.
‘How much?’ she asked.
‘Seven and sixpence,’ he said boldly.
‘It’s worth more than that!’ Mrs Powell said, sounding more hopeful than she felt.
Barrass shook his head and stepped a few paces away from her door, his head bowed in disappointment.
‘Can’t manage more,’ he said, ‘and even that will have to be sixpence a week.’
As his footsteps removed him further from her door, slowly taking away the chance of a few shillings, she called him back as he hoped she would.
‘All right then. Seven and sixpence, and you’ll have to buy yourself some oars as I used them for firewood last winter. And the sails will be in a right mess. Eaten by mice for sure.’
Barrass smiled, his face lighting up and making the old woman smile with him.
‘Thank you, Mrs Powell, I’ll be back with Spider, Dan and Arthur in less than an hour.’ He handed her a pile of coins. ‘There’s the first one shilling and sixpence, my life savings that is.’
‘Never better spent,’ Mrs Powell assured him, and hurriedly closed the door for fear that someone would see the transaction and plan to rob her.
It took a few days before the boat was ready to put on the water, but when they did float her she at once gave them the feeling of being a reliable craft. She rode the waves easily, with no hint of unevenness in the way she moved. There was a firmness about her that promised many years of safe sailing. With oars borrowed and the seats still without paint, Barrass was taken on a maiden voyage of the boat they called Olwen. After a few more days of work, Spider and Dan were taking their place at the market, insisting that theirs was the freshest fish anyone could find.
Spider promised to repay Barrass, but he refused.
‘I owe you that for the way I let her down that morning,’ he said. ‘I’d never have let her set off, and she only did it because she was angry with me for not coming as I promised. No, the fault was mine and I’d be happier if you’ll let me pay for it.’
‘She’s very fond of you, isn’t she?’ Spider said hesitantly. ‘I think too fond, her being so young and you ready to be off with girls and almost a man. Not that I mind, nor do I think you’d ever harm her,’ he added, seeing the boy begin to protest. ‘But I think it might be an idea if we found her some work, something further away from the beach, then she wouldn’t have tim
e to go off on mad fishing trips to repay you for kissing someone else.’ He smiled and to his relief saw the smile reflected on the boy’s handsome face. ‘She’s young, and I don’t want her hurt, so us sending her away would be a kindness and she wouldn’t blame you.’
‘I’ll miss her,’ Barrass surprised himself by saying. ‘I think of her like a sister, someone to look out for, and protect.’
‘You can still do that, we aren’t sending her far, only to work at the Ddoles’ house. Dorothy Ddole is ill, although she will not admit it, and her daughter needs extra help.’
Barrass’s heart leapt guiltily as he thought at once that he would have an excuse to call and perhaps see Penelope.
‘I’ll go and see Olwen when I can,’ he said, hoping Spider had not seen the sudden emotion that flooded his face. ‘As often as I can. You can tell her that.’
‘Not too often, boy,’ Spider warned. ‘Not to feed her idea that she’s your protector and give her the wrong impression, like.’
Barrass nodded but felt an inexplicable disappointment.
* * *
Barrass was kept busy that evening, as all those who had been freed from the prison gathered in the alehouse to celebrate their good fortune. Caleb, who rarely left his small primitive cottage at the edge of a small woodland, surprised everyone by his joviality. He was a small, dark man; even the greying of his hair and moustaches did not lighten his features, but more emphasized them, so he looked as if he were wearing someone else’s hair. He got up several times, and lubricated by the fast flowing drink, sang them songs of ancient battles and saucy loves.
Summer’s Last Retreat Page 15