A Rough Kind of Magic

by Louise James

  It was several days later that Olwen learned that Aiden had been relieved of his post. His case came up but was dismissed for lack of evidence. The fact that Olwen had bathed, dressed and left the flat, not reporting it until the next day went against her. It was with relief she heard that he had gone back to Ireland a few days later. Thankfully she decided to head for the mountains. She knew she would recover by talking to Bronwyn her astringent views would heal her more than anyone. She went back to tidy her flat, spoke a while to the girl who was taking her classes then with a sigh of thankfulness headed for the hills.

  Chapter 13

  The tree was gone from the shed, blocked and stacked. Ray had gone mad with the chainsaw clearing the trees from the brook so it could fall back into its proper course. He then went into the orchard cutting up the fallen trees there. Greg tried to help Tod but became so unwell that they told him to go in out of the smoke and dust. Greg consoled himself by sorting the tools in the shed. It was so much lighter now with the tree gone. Tod found some galvanised sheets left over from the house and did a temporary repair on the shed roof. He also made a quick journey into town bringing back a strip light and cable so the shed was well lit. The time was running out but Ray and Tod were happy that they had made things more comfortable for Greg. They were so tired at night they did very little talking for which Greg was grateful. He still couldn’t bring himself to ruin Ray’s holiday, in any case he didn’t want to go into emotional issues while Tod was there. Ray fell asleep most nights in front of the television overcome with hard work, mountain air and several cans of lager failing to notice the means by which Greg avoided many jobs.

  So busy were they it was a shock to find it was Saturday and the night of the dance. Although reluctant Greg was unable to tell the others so he set to stocking the range for hot water. It actually felt good after a hot bath to dress in a crisp white shirt and clean jeans, although feeling weary he looked incredible, his rich dark hair curling damply over his collar, his long lashes hiding the shadows in his green eyes, the beautiful mouth a little more stern than before was smiling now as Ray came downstairs. Another transformation had taken place; the dirty, oily Ray who had gone up bore little resemblance to the very attractive Ray that came down dressed in tight denims and a dark blue shirt that matched his sparkling eyes, his mop of curly fair hair falling over his brow and a cheeky grin on his face. He wouldn’t be alone for long tonight. Tod was going western style, cowboy boots, check shirt and leather fringed denims. His straight red hair firmly plastered down, his lopsided grin more than made up for his dress sense.

  The hall was already crowded when they arrived, the music loud. The Dancing Fireflies were a popular local group. Their rhythm already had the floor crowded and the bar deep in customers. Paying at the door Greg noticed the proceeds were going to disabled children. He was glad they had come. The lights were dim but it was obvious that this part of the evening was a family affair. A fair number of old folk were seated around the room seeming not to mind the noise, very young children raced back and fore until finally grabbed by parents and taken home to bed their time over. The dances in Hull had never been like this, Ray remarked, they were discos or clubs mostly for teenagers. This was a new concept of life in a rural community with a different kind of atmosphere. It might get a bit rough later on once the old ones had left but everyone knew everyone else and troublemakers would get short shrift. A couple of fathers and the local policeman stayed at the door as bouncers. As there were quite a lot of over thirties Greg didn’t feel out of place as he had at some of the dances that he and Stephanie had been to.

  Ray was already in a dilemma. He was just getting interested in the brown-eyed blond behind the bar when looking up he met the blue eyes of the blond from the post office with whom he exchanged banter when he bought his cigarettes. They were both attracted to him and showed it but as the brown eyed girl was stuck behind the bar until midnight; blue eyes won and Ray was soon lost in the dancers.

  Greg watched the dancing, his athletic figure showing to advantage as he unconsciously leant one shoulder against the wall, his casual, sensual pose and striking good looks attracting as many female stares as the fact that he was also a newcomer to the scene. He knew he shouldn’t dance unless it was a smooch so rested in sublime oblivion to the inquisitive probing stares and whispers of the local girls. He felt a pang as he remembered the dances that he and Steph had gone to when he could dance most of the night although thinking back he had ignored the breathlessness and the occasional dizzy spell blaming it at the time on tiredness or drink; he also remembered having some pain and Stephanie giving him indigestion tablets telling him he ate too quickly. Someone touched his arm turning he saw a brown imp dressed in a scarlet trouser suit, diminutively beautiful with many gold chains hung about her person, tossing back her long black hair she smiled “Would you care to dance?” The band was playing a very slow number and she asked so prettily, Greg was pleased to dance although she was so tiny he was half afraid of stepping on her. They managed another waltz after which she left to powder her nose and Greg was suddenly grabbed by a tall dark girl who seemed to have danced with everyone in the room. She did some strange steps of her own which left Greg to do his own quiet moves until she reappeared in his arms. He later learned that she was the local butcher’s wife and more than a little eccentric; he wasn’t sorry to lose her to a large red faced man who clutched her with glee He was immediately reclaimed by his tiny lady who told him her name was Tracy and she lived in Hay on Wye, she was here with her sister and their boyfriends. As he was trying to disentangle her arms from around his neck, he stepped back feeling some ones foot under his own, hearing a sharp exclamation he turned to apologise and found himself looking into a pair of wide angry eyes set in a heart-shaped face on a level with his own.

  “Can’t you be more careful? That really hurt.”

  “I am so sorry.” The music drowned his words; as she turned away Greg caught his breath as her hair flowed around her like a cloak it was the most glorious red-gold reaching to her waist in a mass of living flame. Never had he seen hair of such colour and quantity. He wondered who she was and why he hadn’t noticed her before.

  “Who is that?” he asked his partner, she snuggled closer.

  “Don’t know don’t think she’s local. Get me another drink, Greg please”

  Pushing his way to the bar he saw the red-haired girl sitting among a group around a side table. ‘My God! What hair’ It fell around her like a living shawl. He watched her as he waited for the drinks. He could buy her one to make up for hurting her, people kept passing between them and he wished she would look up. He barely listened to Tracy’s chatter and was glad to find a red faced sweating Ray behind him.

  “All right Mate?” he asked

  “Fine. They’re a great band. See you’ve clicked then?”

  “You can shout.” Ray had the blue eyed blond in tow to the chagrin of brown eyes on the bar who had one eye on Ray and one on the clock behind her, blue eyes wasn’t going to reign much longer if she had anything to do with it.

  “Hey!, Ray, see if you can find out who the redhead is” he turned to point her out but she was gone, a large hot looking woman fanning herself was in her place. “Damn!” Ray raised his eyebrows, disappearing into the crowd. As a group of youngsters gathered around them, Tracy stopped to talk so Greg escaped to the gents. On his return he saw with relief a tall dark haired boy grab Tracy’s arm and drag her into the dance. Greg thankfully returned to the bar to get a fruit juice wishing that he could go home when he found himself once more gazing into wide grey eyes which had a strange compelling look that he found oddly familiar; although he knew he had never seen her before in his life. Her fabulous hair again took his attention he had to stop himself commenting on it

  “Hello” he put out his hand. “I’m sorry if I hurt you earlier. Are you alright now?”

  “I’m okay It’s a bit overcrowded in
here tonight but as it’s for the disabled children then I am glad.” Her voice was low and he had difficulty hearing.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  I am thinking that I’ve had enough for one night. Thank you all the same.”

  The band swung into a slow number. Greg took his chance. “Would you care to dance? I promise not to tread on you again” She smiled and nodded, they moved onto the floor. Soon he began to wish that he hadn’t asked her he would rather have sat and talked to her, he wanted to know more about her. She moved lightly, intricately dancing well. As the music ended she smiled and began to move away but the band started playing ‘Moon River’ Greg held out his arms and to his delight she moved into them, She was almost as tall as himself, he was very aware of soft, creamy skin her perfume was hauntingly sweet, her hair swung around them like a curtain as she moved; there was enough light to see the red gold of it and feel the warm clinging curls falling over his bare arms as he held her, he longed to bury his hands in it. Tiny ripples of electricity prickled his skin. She wore no jewellery but her dress flowed around her with glints of violet and silver as she moved. Her eyes were almost level with his, he wished there was more light so he could see their depths. Her head fell to his shoulder as they moved slowly around the floor, he could have danced for ever just holding her but the music stopped to announce last orders. She smiled her thanks moving away to join her friends at the door before Greg could regain his voice. He swore softly to himself. People rushing to the bar or to leave pushed past him, moving out of their way he looked again but she was gone. Frantically his eyes searched the room but there was no sign of her. The girls who had sat with her at the table earlier were back, he made his way forward but lacked the courage to speak although he was desperate to know her name or where she was from but felt foolish to ask. He turned to see Ray now with the brown eyed barmaid doing the Lombardo to a storm of cheers and clapping. Of the red haired beauty there was no sign.

  Chapter 14

  ‘Vote we find a pub lunch somewhere.’ Greg flung his paint brush down in frustration. He had opened his eyes that morning to a dismal depressing day. Mist hung in the trees and was rapidly turning into rain, the mountain was shrouded in cloud, visibility nil in all directions. The air was chilly and the bleating of sheep calling off the hill was lonely. He had stumbled down to light the fire feeling the cold, decidedly the worse for wear, not because of drink in fact he had drunk little but the smoky atmosphere of the dance hall, the lack of rest the day before had guaranteed him a bad night. Bodily discomfort kept him awake most of it and when he finally slept it was fitful with red haired people wandering in and out of half dreams. He was also feeling depressed that his helpers were leaving him that evening and he still hadn’t been able to talk to Ray. Several cups of coffee later he had started to paint a wall but after a few brush strokes the impetus was gone. He wandered into the living room where Ray was sipping coffee and Rod, barely awake was struggling to watch television. Between their hangovers and the bad television picture, they were in no state to notice Greg. Tod flicked the remote uselessly before flinging it aside.

  “You’ll have to get a booster for this thing, in weather like this there’s no picture at all.”

  ‘Vote we go for a pub lunch if you can face it’ Greg repeated his invitation. “I don’t feel like cooking, you don’t feel like eating perhaps the hair of the dog might put us right. It’s a stinking day anyway, can’t do much else.’

  Ray was so hungover that Greg’s words took a while to penetrate. ‘What? Oh right!, might as well’

  The rain eased a little as they crept passed the Witches cottage. There was no one about although a red jeep stood in the yard. Greg smiled to himself.

  “Hey! Tod, Do you suppose it’s hers or do people actually visit her?” Ray yawned. “Wonder what colour her broomstick is.’

  “Don’t laugh it hurts” sighed Tod.

  “Hair of the dog you need my boy. By the way where did you get to? I didn’t see much of you all evening. Didn’t forget you have a fiancée, did you?”

  “Course not. I was there but you two were too busy to notice.” Greg laughed. “What about you Ray? Who had the score of the evening then? Blue eyed girl or brown?”

  “Brown” Ray answered when he had given it as much thought as his aching head would allow. “Seeing her again Thursday at some concert down the village, not really my scene but she’s keen to go. Thought we might stay ’till then if it’s alright with you. We’re not in any fit state to drive today anyway.’

  ‘It’s fine by me. Damn and blast, look what you made me do. I meant to go to the village. I’ve turned wrong and now don’t know where we are.’

  Greg had come down a steep hill to a crossroads with no signpost. There was a house nearby but as it was now raining hard no one wanted to get out.

  ‘Just keep going’. Ray leant his head against the window. ‘It’s bound to come out somewhere.’

  After twisting and turning for what seemed like miles with no sign of habitation it was a shock to come out right in front of a pub; at least the sign swinging in the rain read. THE COPPER BEECH. B/ B. It stood with its back to the road with no immediate sign of entry, stone built, overhung with large trees dripping above it. A depressed looking horse stood tied in a lean -to, one leg resting, head drooping. A smart Land Rover Discovery and an old estate car were parked nearby so Greg pulled off the road and woke Ray who opened first one eye then the other in an effort to clear both. ‘Where the devil are we? Copper Beech sounds more like a b/b in Surry. Come on Tod, wake up, get your butt out here, see what’s on offer.”

  They found the path leading through bushes at the side of the building. It felt like some ones garden except for a load of tables and chairs standing on the sodden lawn. The sound of voices came from behind a studded door. Silence and the full battery of five pairs of eyes met them as they entered ducking under a beam that threatened to decapitate any one over five foot six. The room was dominated with a huge stone fireplace which was glowing with a welcoming log fire. The bar stretched the length of the room carrying an impressive amount of glasses and bottles; there didn’t appear to be optics. Windows were set in walls at least eight foot thick not letting in a great deal of light through the heavy leaded panes. Chintz covered chairs stood around assorted tables. On a deep window seat slept the largest black cat they had ever seen. “A bit old fashioned” Tod remarked in an undertone. Almost sitting on top of the fire was a large fat man giving off a strong aroma of horses and wet straw. A couple of men perched on stools at the bar, one a surly looking lad with mucky straw on his boots the other a man with a long grey beard dressed in a navy blazer and slacks wearing a peaked cap looking very much like an admiral lost in the wilds without his ship. He eyed the new comers with sharp blue eyes over his pint glass.

  Greg approached the bar while Tod and Ray slid behind a scrubbed deal table near the window.

  “Good morning Sir. Both landlord and landlady leapt to attention at this intrusion into a Sunday morning routine. “Three halves of lager please.”

  “Certainly Sir, which would you prefer? I recommend the draught Pilsner.”

  “They might want bottled.” His wife interrupted “Maybe the Heineken?”

  “The draught will do.” Greg was momentarily taken back over two fighting to serve him. “Thank you Sir” They chorused in unison. He could see no sign of a menu. As he took the drinks to the table “We may have to go farther afield for our dinner.” he remarked looking about him, he saw the place was warm, clean and cosy. ‘You could drive a horse and cart up the chimney’ he remarked later on the phone to his father. There was a vast amount of horse brasses and old prints decorating the walls. The landlord however was completely out of character; a neat dapper man with a military moustache and brushed back silver hair; dressed in cream slacks, blue shirt and a spotted silk cravat. He would have looked more at home in the London West E
nd. His wife was the opposite, round, plump and motherly, sandy coloured hair piled on her head in a bun, her pale blue eyes were heavily made up and she wore a flowery apron tied firmly around her middle. They formed an incongruous team.

  As the kitchen door swung open a welcome smell of roast beef wafted out, a thin anaemic looking girl came through carrying a loaded tray which she deposited on the next table.

  “Here you are Captain” she laid his cutlery and turned to leave.

  “Thank you, Trudy. Looks good as always”

  Even Ray in his delicate state couldn’t resist the tempting sight. They found themselves studying a small hand written menu.

  Roast beef or roast chicken Sunday dinner.

  Homemade Shepherd’s pie or Cottage

  Sausage and chips or Scampi and chips

  Followed by

  Apple pie or Raspberry

  Rhubarb and custard or ice cream

  Trifle or cheese and biscuits

  Tod began to laugh. “Shh!” Greg grabbed the menu from him. “What are you two having? Roast beef or…….Stop laughing you two, she’s coming back. Three roast beefs please.’

  ‘Or–‘began Ray.

  ‘I see you’re recovered.’ “This is enough to make anyone recover.’ as three huge dinners were placed in front of them. “Hope it tastes as good as it looks.’ It certainly did and although none of them did as well as usual, they had to admit they felt better afterwards.

  When they came to know John and Patty better it was to realise the way the menu was written was simply a reflection of the type of conversation that passed between husband and wife most of the time; to the great amusement and delight of their regulars and the complete confusion of visitors. If John remarked how wet it was today, Patty said it would clear later. If Patty was cold, Len found it milder than yesterday. If someone asked the way to Hay-on-Wye a lively discussion would develop immediately between the couple as John directed them the hill road being the quickest way and Patty recommended them to keep to the valley road as better driving. The confused party left rather hurriedly. Trudy their daughter who did the waitressing ignored them going her own sweet way; it wasn’t surprising to learn later that their son Jason left home at an early age to work abroad, returning only at Christmas or on a summer vacation.