by Louise James
“Come on Mandy, let’s go, we know when we’re not wanted.” She turned back to Ray “You can go to hell, Ray Bower; you play these games too often. You ring me up expecting me to drop everything and come out with you but when it’s something I want to do it’s not convenient. Well! We’ll see about that; Greg, enjoy your evening won’t you? We sure are going to. Come on Mandy, there’s a dance at Whitegrove and I know who will take us. See you around sometime, boys.”
She walked off followed by a reluctant Mandy who gave a small bye-bye wave.
“Phew!” breathed Ray. “She doesn’t like the word no that one. Perhaps it’s time she moved on. If we had stuck with them it would have been an all-night job.”
Greg was glad things had sorted themselves. He was not feeling that well and he still had to steel himself to tell Ray the truth; he was dreading that more than anything he had ever done. He only hoped after the initial shock Ray would accept the situation and help him get through it all or would Ray prove faint –hearted and gradually fade away from their friendship. Of course not he knew Ray wouldn’t do that he knew him too well, but telling him would change their friendship in some way it was bound to. Ray was chuckling “We must be getting old or something when have we ever passed up the chance to nightclub with two dishy girls? Times are a changing for sure, but to be honest I couldn’t cope with them tonight and you don’t look so good either”. He slapped on Greg the shoulder.
“It’s time we talked, really talked, something to eat then I want to know what you’ve been up to. I want the truth, old son, all of it. It’s time beans were spilled. What’s all this about Wales? Come on let’s go.” He picked up the gear and headed for the truck.
Chapter 8
The evening had become wet and chilly so Ray had lit the fire as soon as they had eaten. The room was warm the sounds of traffic outside muted by the heavy curtains drawn against the night. Greg had always felt at home here. To everybody’s surprise Ray had kept most of his grandmother’s old fashioned furniture and except for modernising the kitchen and bathroom had changed very little. Greg tried to relax in the deep armchair and enjoy the brandy Ray passed him before throwing himself on the opposite settee.
The warmth of the spirit steadied him but his nerves tensed as he wondered about the remarks Ray had made at the boat. He couldn’t possible know anything. Christ! This was hard and going to get harder. There was no way he could tell Ray that his best friend was going to die. He knew from experience it was very hard to hide anything from him but he couldn’t possibly have guessed. For all his light-hearted fooling, Ray was shrewd and perceptive, had a nasty habit of suddenly coming out with the secret you had tried so hard to keep.
“Come on, Greg, what gives?” Ray settled himself and lit a cigarette.
“Well I’m getting off the rig. Doc found a spot on the lung; not serious but got to take it easy for a time, rest up, eat well and rest a lot; you know the sort of thing. Don’t get the idea……. He interrupted as Ray started to speak.” I’m not off to a sanatorium or anything like that but you know what life can be like on the rig, forgetting to eat or even sleep when hot on a project. I only get back to normal when I’m ashore. If I take too long on the sick it’s a strain on everyone else. Tom would have to get a temporary replacement and that is next to impossible, like asking for gold there are just not enough trained bodies out there. Tom has to have commitment though I know he would bend the rules a little for me. Tom’s good, not like some of the bastards out there like Forbes when Barney went sick with meningitis last year. I told you about that; I could tell a lot more tales about him and a couple of others out there that would make you sick, the conditions some of them have to work under. I’m lucky and Tom deserves the best so I did a lot of thinking and decided I would try something else in my life. I want to be nearer my folks for one thing they have aged a lot recently, I noticed that last week when I was there. It will only get worse and I am all they have.”
“So!” Ray finally got his oar in. “Where does this farm and mountain lark come in?” He sat up.” You’ve got it haven’t you? Thought you were out of your tree. Sure there isn’t a girl in it somewhere?
“No such luck.” Greg laughed more easily now, Ray hadn’t noticed his tension and had taken his explanation without more than a quick intake of breath and a muttered oath.
“Made an offer, heard yesterday that it had been accepted but I’m damned if I know how I’m going to make it.”
“Why? You’ve savings I know, take the rest on mortgage.” He rose to pour another drink Greg winced; he wasn’t prepared for that one.
“Of course I can.” He replied shakily. But I am trying to be clever here and pay for it outright.”
“Good God! Man, how much have you got for Pete’s sake?” (dodgy this)
“Not a lot, sold some shares, raided the bank, selling most of the furniture, still be a shortfall until the flat sells. A bridging loan is a swine if you don’t know how long you are going to need it for. The flat should go; I’ve two agents on it.”
“I agree, it’s a great flat.” Ray threw another log on the fire. “How much are you asking?” When Greg told him he whistled. “That’s giving it away.’
“I know but it must sell quickly or I could be in trouble. Some of it’s going to have to keep me until I know what I’m going to do with my life: I don’t know that yet either.”
Ray studied him closely. “You know Greg, I would never have said you were impulsive or unpredictable, in fact that’s the last thing I would have said about you but in the last year you have really shaken the shit out of me. First goes Stephanie, great looking brilliant cook, made your pad posh, you’ve been with her; what was it six years? I did expect to be hiring the morning suit sometime soon but out she goes, no messing never to be seen again. Now shocks two and three. job gone, shares gone, a wage packet (not to be sneezed at –seven years training to even get your nose in the door) just like Steph out. Now farming! Greg, for God’s sake what’s happened to you? I know what you’re saying; you’re not well; you being ill is a worry because you look like a stand-in for Tarzan. I don’t believe your problem is as serious as all that. Take sick leave, Tom will wait for you when he wouldn’t for anyone else and you know it. Take the share money, go six months in Switzerland then come back and start again.’
Ray rose and agitatedly paced the room running his hands wildly through his hair before reaching for his cigarettes.
“Don’t waste it all, Greg. If there are other problems, I’ll help you get it sorted just talk to me.’
‘Now is the time.’Greg decided.” Go for it, moron, tell him.”
“Look Ray, there is something else….” The phone shilled sharply into the room as if on cue. Ray grabbed it with an oath. “Hi Dave, yes sure we will. How about next Saturday—hang on.” He covered the mouthpiece turning to Greg.” How about we have supper with Dave and Liz next week?”
Greg nodded assent, his mouth drying palms sweaty. God! Why did the phone have to ring now of all times. Ray was still talking. “Okay, tell Liz thanks. Hey! Did that guy come in for the Sierra? Sold a pup there, bet he thinks twice before going there next time. Tell you what I found out…” The conversation slid into work-a-day world. ‘For Christ’s sake come off the phone Ray ‘Greg willed him to put the phone down. ‘I’m not going to be able to tell you anything now’
Fifteen minutes later Ray put the phone down. “Sorry about that, Dave can never come off the subject of work. It’ll be the same next weekend but they are nice people. Coffee?”
Ray came back from the kitchen putting the mugs on the floor. “Come on then, what’s this place really like?” Greg led into the details almost with relief. The time had passed for confessions of that nature, by the time he had reached the machinery shed in his narrative, Ray was on the edge of his seat. He still thought Greg was mad but he was firing on all four cylinders when he heard about the L
and Rover. If Greg was buying the place he was already planning a holiday to suss it out. Against his better judgement Greg told him about his meeting with Bronwyn Rhys referring to her as a white witch. Ray had an immediate desire to meet her. “She’s sure to be a clairvoyant.” Ray was a great believer in the occult his weakness the reading of all horoscopes and a dash into the fortune telling tent at the fair. As most predictions consisted of telling him he was going to make a reasonable amount of money (which he did) and about to meet the girl in his life which he also did (quite regularly) he believed in them implicitly They talked far into the night until Greg stretched and thought longingly of bed, Ray leapt to his feet. “Hang on a minute I’ve had a thought– He hurried into the kitchen returning with two steaming mugs, the aroma of brandy wafting from them. Putting them carefully on the floor and sitting cross legged beside them he lit a cigarette.
“Got an idea, bet you won’t go for it though.” He paused, looking intently at Greg.
“What?” Greg yawned. Ray narrowed his eyes pulling his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Here’s a tenner says you won’t do it.”
“Come on Ray, its sleep time, do what?”
“Sell me the Jag.’ Greg’s eyes flew open. ‘What?’
Ray leant forward. “Listen, I think you crazy but I’ve always believed that a man should do his own thing but have a bit of adventure in his life if he can. Although I might tear a strip off you I’m not your typical nine to five man; if something came up that I really wanted to do more than what I’m doing now I’d go for it. I still think you are wrong; you’re losing too much but–- he shrugged. “If that’s what you want - go for it. I’m seeing it like this, no loans but you don’t know when the flat will sell and you’ve raised all you can bar the odds and sods of furniture etc. You are still short by how much? Greg told him roughly “I have to allow for living expenses until I can find some way of earning “Again the temptation to tell him was on his tongue. Ray was quickly writing on a scrap of paper.
“Hell! the Jag is worth more than that. Sell her to me. I’ve a bit put by and business is good; in fact we are doing well.”
“I can’t do that. That car is my life and we worked damned hard on her didn’t we? Anyway it wouldn’t be practical I need a car where I’m going.”
“Not that one you don’t; not if I know anything at all about Welsh mountains which I admit is very little but you said yourself you had to leave it at the end of the drive. Are you going to keep it there summer and winter? Where else are you going to get the money from quickly without borrowing? I have the business, this house with no mortgage. I can afford it lend it you if you’d rather. Come on Greg, you need the money and I’ve always envied you that one. Wouldn’t that pull the birds?’
‘As if you need it for that.’ Greg scoffed. “You and that pick-up are Hulls answer to the guided missile.’
‘Yes but with the Jaguar a better class of bird could come my way, someone like Steph not these fur coat-no draws types that any Pratt in a pick-up can pick up.’
“You said that not Me.” laughed Greg. “Give me time to think about it. I appreciate your offer and I guess far from helping me, you have an ulterior motive.” He dodged Ray’s quick punch and made for the stairs. “I’ll sleep on it, let you know tomorrow.’
“Okay but I want your tenner on the table if you don’t. Ray shouted after him slamming the bathroom door.
Greg sat at the window for a long while. The thought of selling his car had never entered his head. He had found her through a friend of a friend and she had been a mess when he bought her but evenings and weekends,(much to Stephanie’s annoyance); he had spent time and money on her. Ray had helped him although he had lost a girlfriend over it while Greg and Steph had several rows about it but they had returned time after time to the business of bringing her to perfection. She was part of his life and he couldn’t imagine not having her. Of course she was worth a lot more money but he would feel happier for Ray to have her than anyone else. He would have to accept if he wanted to bring his plans to fruition. Hell! There had been some rough moments when he had almost told him. Of course he would tell him as soon as he had a chance.
Church bells ringing for morning service roused Greg from a deep sleep. He lay a while feeling well and relaxed thinking of Ray’s offer of the night before; sell the Jag? He didn’t want to; he had intended to keep it until the doc said no more driving that could be anytime, strange that it hadn’t happened already. If a transplant came though how soon before he could drive again? Suddenly he remembered the Witches words ‘you want to sell that fancy car…..it will rip the guts out of it.’ She was right the car was far too low for those mountain roads and to leave it at the end of the drive, even if he built a shelter was unthinkable, perhaps the time had come to start making some sacrifices. He would only be leaving it for his parents to sell. It would be hard to see Ray driving it but after all he had worked on it almost as much and I would have the farm. The familiar thrill of excitement stirred his blood and he knew there was no going back, job, flat, furniture and car, it all had to go and that was that.
Ray was already up. “Eggs alright? Toast and marmalade are on the table. Sleep alright?
“Fine thanks. Look Ray, you can have the car but only what you can afford mind after all you did almost as much work on her.’
“Yippee!” Ray threw an egg in the air and deftly caught it. “Don’t be an idiot, I know the value of that car and what it means to you, besides you need that money’
“Just be good to her and I will be glad that she’s going to you that’s all’
“Hey! I just had another brilliant idea.” Greg groaned aloud. “What now?”
“You’re going to want wheels anyway but you also need to keep the dosh right? Guess what? At the back of the garage is a Subaru pick –up, needs some bits doing and a new set of tyres would just do for you though. I’ll do it up whatever it needs. Tested, on the road add it onto the cash and you won’t lose out. Fit for the Black mountains. I’ll talk to Dave and have her on the road. Do we have a deal?”
“I’ll trust you, thousands wouldn’t” grinned Greg holding out his hand. “I was just thinking that I would have to find an old banger.”
“Actually this isn’t an old banger, she’s only three years old but not been treated right; some eighteen year old thrashed the shit out of her until he spotted something better but she’s all right you’ll see.” “Done” They shook hands.
“Come on let’s get some air. It’s going to tip down this afternoon.”
They walked down to Ray’s parents where they were fed at lunch time on roast pork and apple pie, walking back in the late afternoon when the rain began in earnest.
The next few weeks found Greg with a hundred and one things to do, luckily his spell of feeling good continued unless he over exerted when pain and shortness of breath warned him to slow down. He kept dates with his bank manager and solicitor, changed his will, sorted funds, visited friends and saw to the sale of his belongings. People came and went at the flat but he left that to his agent staying with Ray until the Tuesday when he lunched with Tom and Betty Gregson later flying with Tom out to the rig where he met Geoff Godard his replacement. It wasn’t possible to spend the time he would have liked to ease Geoff in to the team as he was his sort of guy and they would have worked well together; he was a talented man delighted to slot into the new program. Greg felt upset when the week came to an end and very emotional when his colleagues arranged farewell drinks, surprised and delighted when they presented him with a miniature oil rig in bronze with a scroll signed by all on board. After speeches of commiseration (Tom had been a true friend only telling the men that Greg was changing careers) there was much hand shaking and good luck wishes. Greg returned their toasts, welcoming Geoff on their behalf this was followed by speeches from contractors and managers. He had made many friends and all were sorry to see him
go and wished him luck with his farming although that had brought many a jest and good natured laugh from his colleagues.
Greg came ashore for the last time the following Wednesday, making an excuse to Ray that he had lots to do, he shut himself in his flat, took the phone off the hook and spent the next couple of days suffering the tortures of the damned all over again. Waking on Saturday red eyed and haggard with grief, he took himself off in the Jag. He spent a long time sitting watching the sea and the gulls wheeling above. He strolled along bridle paths wishing that he had a dog for company. When he felt like eating he found quiet inns and slept in quieter ones wondering if he would ever see these places again. For three days the sea and the country rolled before him until gradually he felt comforted and rested.
He finally returned to Ray’s house and he after one look at Greg’s gaunt face and tired eyes, phoned Dave and took his friend out on the boat for the next couple of days. Greg felt too unwell to talk much and Ray left him to himself concentrating on fishing and cooking them to tempt Greg’s appetite.
Ray felt there was more to his illness than he had told him but he waited until Greg was ready to talk but it didn’t look like soon, the best he could do was to be a true friend, help where he could and be there for him when he did. Ray was seriously worried about the farm bit and couldn’t wait to see for himself what had caused his friend to change his life style. He had a bad feeling about all of this but wouldn’t push; he would wait until the right time. They spent the following weekend on the boat as well but Greg now felt well enough to enjoy the company of a couple of girls and the time passed in sailing, picnics and pleasant evenings
The next couple of weeks saw all the loose ends tied and Greg signed the contract. “Longest two weeks of my life.” He told Ray still not able to tell him why he found each day precious for its own sake and why he revelled in everything; sun, wind and rain. A new set of values had become Greg’s, each day was like a lit candle and he watched it burn away sometimes with content, sometimes with fear always with a prayer.