by Heide Goody
"Well," Ben commented, "I am looking forward to marrying Jayne. That way I’ll be able to have sex morning, noon and nigh- Oh, my God."
Ben leapt up from the table with horror to hear such a thoughtless (albeit honest) sentence slip from his lips. With a fleeting and apologetic glance at Jayne, he hurried from the room.
He went straight out the back door and down the garden.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he hissed at himself, punctuating each word with a slap on the forehead.
It wasn’t easy to slam the sliding greenhouse door but at least he could give the shed door a satisfying bang as he stomped inside, and then threw himself into a hammock. The force of his leap almost pitched him out the other side but he managed to stay on board and lay there, arms crossed, staring furiously at the ceiling and silently berating himself for his idiocy.
The hammock was still swinging gently when the shed door opened. Ben looked round, frightened that it might be Jayne.
"Oh, it’s you," he said to Nerys. "Just leave me alone, please."
"Ben, I need to talk to you."
Ben groaned.
"Did Jayne send you? Or your mom? They must both think I’m a sex-crazed pervert."
Nerys pulled a doubtful face.
"Ben. No one is ever in your entire life going to call you a sex-crazed pervert. You haven’t got it in you."
Ben frowned.
"Should I be offended by that?"
"Probably."
"I don’t want to talk about it."
"Neither do I," said Nerys. "I haven’t come to talk about your potty mouth or animal urges. I need your help."
"Oh?"
"Michael called."
Sat in the back of Nerys’s car on the way into Aberdaron, Jayne looked across the suddenly huge expanse of the back seat to her fiancé. Ben was sat firmly in the corner by the door, his hands at his side, his face turned to the window and the high banks of grass and gorse through which they drove.
He wasn’t exactly refusing to talk to her. He was being stiffly polite and monosyllabic in his responses to her conversational gambits and that made it worse. He was angry and she wasn’t sure if it was with her or not.
Jayne wanted to reach out to him but was worried how he might respond. She had slipped her hand across the surface of the seat to the middle seat where it sat, pathetic and untouched, hoping to meet his in that no man’s land.
She sighed.
"There he is," said Ben flatly as they turned down the hill and into the town.
Jayne looked and saw Clovenhoof engaged in an animated conversation with another man in the riverside car park. It was hard to be certain but Jayne imagined it might have had something to do with the tractor in the river, its front wheels at the top of the bank, its fat rear wheels almost completely damming the River Daron.
Nerys swung into the car park and wound down the window.
"Get in," she said.
"It’s all right," said Clovenhoof. "Gryff here is going to tow me out."
"Now."
"Fine," huffed Clovenhoof and got in the passenger side.
Nerys turned around and drove out through the town. All of the windows of The Ship Hotel were smashed and it looked as if there had been a small fire at some point in the night. There were also numerous discarded weapons and even some clothes in the town’s one street but no one in the car was apparently up to making a comment.
"Where are we off to then?" asked Clovenhoof. "I fancy visiting a zoo. Does anyone else fancy going to a zoo?"
"We’re going to collect Michael."
"Is he at the zoo?"
"No."
"Poo."
Clovenhoof grumbled and huffed all the way down to Porth Meudwy. A mile along the coast from Aberdaron, Porth Meudwy was a slipway launch for boats at the bottom of a deep gorge carved by glacial ice and millennia of Welsh rain. The twisted browns and greens of hardy vegetation hung on the towering banks on either side of the single track as Nerys’s poor little car rattled down to the waterside.
Owen the boatman, who Jayne remembered had been in the year below her at school, was already winching his boat into the choppy waves. At the height of summer, it would be taking dozens of birdwatchers, hikers and day-trippers to Bardsey but today the thirty-seater boat was theirs alone.
"A boat trip?" said Clovenhoof. "Are we going fishing?"
"Not quite," said Jayne and thanked Owen as he helped her aboard.
She saw her sister give Owen an embarrassed smile and turn a little pink as he helped her too. His smile in reply was warmly amused.
Jayne whispered in Nerys’s ear.
"I remember there were rumours about you and Owen and the school art cupboard."
"Let’s not go there," said Nerys.
"That’s what you should have said to him."
Nerys went and pointedly sat at the back of the boat, as far from the wheelhouse as possible. While Owen handed out the obligatory life-jackets, Jayne took a seat on the port side and patted the seat next to her for Ben to sit on. The expression he gave her in return was a grimace mixed with a deliberately silly waggling of eyebrows and rolling of eyes. But he sat with her nonetheless.
Owen pulled away from the shore and made towards Bardsey, all the while ignoring Clovenhoof’s offers and pleas to help him ‘steer the ship’. Once out from the sheltering harbour, the waves grew stronger, the wind picked up and the boat pitched and yawed like a see-saw.
Her hair whipping around her face, Jayne leant in towards Ben and shouted over the roar of the elements, "It’s been years since I’ve been out to sea."
Ben paused in thought.
"Decades for me. Family holiday to the Isle of Wight when I was eight."
"I love being on the water."
"Perhaps when it’s calmer."
Jayne nodded.
"I thought, for our honeymoon, we could travel up the Mekong River."
Ben frowned.
"Is that still in Vietnam?"
"Last time I looked."
"Not sure if I fancy Vietnam."
"Heard bad reports?"
"I’ve seen Platoon."
Jayne laughed and pulled her hair from her eyes.
"Listen," said Ben, "I’m sorry about what I said this morning. I don’t know what came over me."
"Hey. I don’t know what came over me this morning either. I didn’t mean to break the news to mom. I just… I think I was overwhelmed by honesty. Besides…"
She took hold of his hand and he fiercely gripped hers in return.
"You were right," she said.
"I was?"
"Not the morning, noon and night bit. Otherwise, we’ll never get out of bed. But we don’t know each other well enough. I’m no religious prude and I do think we ought to get to know each other intimately before we tie the knot."
"You mean…?"
"Check that tab A fits in slot B."
"Go for a test drive before signing the contract."
"I think my metaphor was more tasteful."
"I’d beg to differ. Yours makes sex like sound like a flat pack wardrobe and I’m the one and a half inch screws."
"One and a half inch?"
"It was an analogy!"
"I think I’d better measure you up sooner rather than later."
"So while we’re here in Wales."
Jayne thought for a while. Up in the wheelhouse, Clovenhoof, having given up being allowed to steer was blowing on his life-jacket’s emergency whistle and attempting to dance a hornpipe.
"We can’t do it at the house," she said to Ben. "Both mom and Lydia have ears like hawks."
"Hawks don’t have ears."
"You know what I mean."
"Well, we can’t do it in your dad’s shed. I don’t want to have sex in a hammock, with an audience, the first time I do it."
"The first time?"
"With you," he said hurriedly. "Why don’t we book into the Ship Hotel or the Ty Newydd for a night?"
"Both
run by friends of the family," said Jayne. "Don’t worry, we’ll think of something."
The boat bounced over a particularly jarring swell.
"Where there’s a will, there’s a way," said Ben and, to Jayne’s ears, it sounded like there was twenty years or more of pent up ‘will’ behind that statement.
~ooOOOoo~
On one of the six computers in the locutory, Michael clicked the ‘Send Friend Request’ button.
"Excellent," said Brother Sebastian. "And now you’ll be constantly up to date with the daily soap opera that is life at St Cadfan’s."
"Super," said Michael.
"And don’t forget to follow our Twitter feed."
"Of course."
He looked at the mass of cabling, router boxes and other unrecognisable items that filled the cabinets on the wall.
"I’m surprised that a remote monastery is so well-connected," he said.
"Global village," said Sebastian. "Our apostolic mission and commercial enterprises reach as far as the technology allows."
Stephen gave a grunt of amusement.
"When man colonises Mars, he’ll find the word of Christ and a range of Bardsey products already waiting for him."
Sebastian nodded in sincere agreement. An image on one of several webcam feeds drew his eye.
"Here’s Owen," he said, pointing. On screen, a boat had moored on the leeward side of the island and several figures were climbing ashore.
"Is Nerys with them?" asked Stephen, nervously.
Michael peered.
"Ben, Jayne, the Angel of the Bottomless Pit and… yes, Nerys."
"Right," said Stephen, rearranging his habit in preparation. "I’m off to hide then. If anyone’s looking for me, I’ll be in private prayer in the darkest corner of the cellar."
"Oh, come now," said Sebastian. "She can’t be that bad."
"Brother, I was atheist before I met her," said Stephen firmly and left.
Brother Sebastian sighed the sigh of a man who has seen all life and has gladly left most of it behind.
"Shall we go and meet your friends then, Michael?"
The afternoon sun was shining through the clouds as Michael, Sebastian and Jessie went to meet the landing party on the lawns but the winds were strong enough to send a chilly breeze up Michael’s habit. He held onto his garment to avoid a Marilyn Monroe incident.
"I think you’ve got a lot of explaining to do," said Nerys, smiling despite her tone as she slapped Michael’s wallet into his hand.
Clovenhoof looked Michael up and down.
"What’s infinity add one?" he asked.
"What?" said Michael.
"Trying to work out your new ‘looks like a twat’ score."
"Hilarious," said Michael. "Thanks for coming. This is Brother Sebastian. These are my friends." He paused. "And Jeremy."
Sebastian shook hands with the three humans. Clovenhoof, having spotted a pair of peacocks had scampered off to harangue them.
"You owe the boatman eighty quid," said Nerys.
Michael opened his wallet. He turned to Sebastian.
"Surely, I must offer you something for the inconvenience."
Sebastian looked at the wallet and a venal glint passed across his otherwise serene expression.
"No, you must not. But don’t forget to buy some of our lovely produce from our website or consider us for your next wedding or business conference."
"You do weddings?" said Jayne, looking up with admiration at the surrounding buildings.
"I was going to ask you about your produce," said Michael, as Ben and Jayne fell into quiet discussion. "Am I right in thinking the abbot doesn’t know about your recent ventures in jam-making?"
"Ah," said Sebastian. "Mmmm. Yes."
"Do you have any availability for July or August?" asked Jayne.
"Sorry?" said Sebastian.
"For weddings."
"You’re getting married?" said Michael.
Ben and Jayne, hand in hand, smiled at him.
"Announced it at breakfast," said Nerys.
"I can check our bookings," said Sebastian.
"I suppose congratulations are in order," said Michael.
Jessie barked at Clovenhoof’s return.
"Did you know this?" said Michael.
"What?"
"These two. Getting married."
"Who to?" said Clovenhoof.
"Each other," said Michael.
"But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a long engagement. A very long engagement," said Nerys.
"Strike while the iron’s hot," said Jayne.
"And this place could be the ideal venue," said Ben.
"Bit hard for friends and family to get to," Nerys argued.
"The ideal venue," agreed Ben.
"It’s probably best to book early," said Sebastian. "This place is proving increasingly popular."
Michael looked at the monk and imagined that what Sebastian meant was that potential bookings had recently leapt up from zero to one.
"Well, I think you’d better take a look around," said Clovenhoof.
"Absolutely," said Sebastian.
"Some of the stonework looks very unsteady."
"We’re doing some repairs at the moment," said Sebastian.
"And some of the stained glass in the chapel is smashed."
Sebastian frowned.
"There’s no damage to any of the stained glass," he said.
"How recently have you checked?" said Clovenhoof and conspicuously failed to meet anyone’s eye.
Jessie growled at Clovenhoof’s hooves.
On the boat back to the mainland, Michael sat down next to Clovenhoof.
Checking that no one else was close enough to hear, he said, "I’ve got a problem."
"I dunno," said Clovenhoof, gesturing to Jessie who was lying down at his feet. "You’re popular with the bitches. Are you worried that your boyfriend will find out?"
Michael’s mind ran through a quick succession of thoughts, starting with annoyance at Clovenhoof’s lame humour, moving onto the desire to tell him that Andy wasn’t his boyfriend just a special friend, the realisation that if both he and Clovenhoof knew that the boyfriend reference was about Andy then there must be some truth in it and the further realisation (coupled with further annoyance) that Clovenhoof had distracted him from his current concern.
"Shut up, I’m serious," he said.
"This from the man who wears dresses."
"That’s the monastery of St Cadfan," said Michael pointing back across the sea.
"Uh-huh."
"Cadfan. Did he ever turn up in Hell?"
"Saints go up, not down, pigeon-wings. Part of the Other Guy’s VIP club."
"Except that’s it," said Michael. "I’ve been thinking about it. There is no St Cadfan in the Celestial City."
Clovenhoof shrugged.
"So maybe he’s one of those made up saints. There are enough of them."
"Yes, but even they appear in the Celestial City if the faithful declare them to be real. ‘As it is on Earth…’"
"’… so shall it be in Heaven.’ Stupid rule, really."
"That’s not the point. If St Cadfan isn’t in Heaven and he isn’t in Hell…"
"Purgatory?"
"I would know."
Clovenhoof gave a playful toot on his life jacket’s emergency whistle. Michael instinctively knew that they would have a hard time getting Clovenhoof to part with it.
"You’ve got two possibilities," said Clovenhoof.
"Yes?" said Michael.
"One, a dip in the sea has addled your brains."
"Or?"
"He’s still on Earth."
"What?"
"He’s not dead."
Michael sighed and threw his hands up.
"You’re no help. I wish I could explain. There was something really amiss in that monastery."
"Is that why you paid the deposit for the wedding?"
Michael nodded.
"We need to go
back."
"And set fire to the place," agreed Clovenhoof.
"No! We need to investigate. The abbot was really unwelcoming. The prior is a dribbling imbecile. He was just sitting there in the orangery."
"They grow oranges?"
"No, but they have an apple tree that flowers in winter and the abbot was very protective of the fruit. By the way, I bought some of the jam the monks made."
"We had it at breakfast," said Clovenhoof and then paused. "You know, something weird did happen this morning…"
Nerys decided, long before they reached home, that her little car was not designed to carry five people, one hyperactive border collie and a bag of still-damp clothes. Jessie sat on Michael’s knee and whined at every junction, like some inarticulate SatNav. In the back, squashed up to one side, Ben and Jayne whispered and giggled to each other like a pair of schoolchildren. And as for Jeremy… Nerys could no longer look at him without thinking of her incessant dreams and that magic mushroom incident in which he had so clearly and vividly transformed into a horned and red-skinned devil. Perhaps she needed her head examining.
It was a sheer relief and pleasure to pull up outside the Thomas house and have the menagerie of young lovers, would-be devils, night-swimmers and dogs out of the car.
"Your dad’s car is here," Ben said the Jayne.
"Good," she replied. "I’ll get the keys and get changed."
"Changed?"
"Into something more comfortable," she said archly.
Ben giggled.
"I’ll go get some, you know, protection," he replied.
Nerys pulled a face. If they weren’t acting like lovesick puppies, they were being sex-starved bonobos. It was sickening and, yes, she wasn’t afraid to admit she was more than a little jealous.
She locked up the car, went inside and found her fake boyfriend chatting in the kitchen with her mom and dad. Her dad only ever came up to the house when he was seriously bothered about something or rainstorms had flooded him out, and there wasn’t a drop of rain in the air.
"You all right, dad?" she said, kissing his bald head.
"Crazy day," he said, shaking his head. "There’s been some kind of weird outbreak all over the peninsula."
"’Poisoning?"
He puffed his cheeks and shrugged.
"Who knows? No one’s sure if it’s food related. It’s bizarre."