by Louise James
The pub became busy as the Sunday lunch time progressed, attracted by traditional ales as well as the usual brands of cider and lager. The atmosphere became that of a country house as people gossiped over the Sunday papers as they waited for their lunch. They were surprised to learn the pub had a tremendous amount of summer trade; trekkers rode over the hill, hikers from the mountain roads while tourists travelled the lanes most of the year and campers used the adjoining fields during the summer. The locals made it their own on Saturday nights and long winter evenings. The pub boasted a games room at the back, cold and bare where children abandoned by parents having a drink could play Ludo, Snap and other games in various stages of imperfection, broken crayons and colouring books usually full unless renewed by Trudy when she went to town, magazines for cutting out (if one could find the scissors) and a huge box of toy and bricks with a large sign pinned to the side ‘Not to be taken from this room’. Two small sized table games completed the entertainment for children who spent most of their time signalling parents for pop and crisps. In the summer a swing, slide and a small sandpit added to the fun outside, usually ending in tears as they fought over the swing pushed one another off the slide and flung sand in each other’s faces. A pony of doubtful age lived in a nearby field where he was supposed to give rides, along with a cross donkey who wouldn’t let any child near him except from the other side of the gate if they fed him carrots, apples or sweets, sometimes known to accept a chip or two if in the right mood.
After the best cooked meal the lads had eaten for some time, they were quite content to chat to the landlord and watch people coming and going. Presently the door opened and a group of youths entered. “A pint of cider and two lemonades, please.’ called a fair –haired lad of about twenty who seemed to know everyone in the pub.
‘Lemonade? Must have been a good night down the town?” enquired John
“Yes it was.” The lad handed over a note. ‘Has Sam been in yet?’
‘About half an hour ago I think. Patty served him didn’t you dear?’
‘No, I don’t remember but we have been very busy.’
‘Slackening off.’ nodded her husband. “He’ll probably be in tonight.’
‘No he won’t’ returned Patty. ‘He’s darts at the Green man.’
“It may be cancelled if they don’t have enough turn up for a team.’ The fair lad having spotted Sam near the fire drifted off. A tall dark man moved to the bar.
‘Hey John, Has Olwen been in this weekend?’
“No, she hasn’t and I couldn’t miss that hair could I?” Greg’s ears picked up ‘Olwen?’ was that the red-head he met last night? It wasn’t likely that two girls with hair that noticeable would be in the neighbourhood.
“I thought she might have come up this morning.” The man continued. I was surprised to see her at the dance. She doesn’t come that often.’
‘Oh! She does come to see her grandmother’
.I know.” returned the man. “But it’s not often she goes to a dance over here but there’s been a split up and I thought she might have called in as she was here.’
“Bronwyn likes an occasional Sunday lunchtime drink I thought she may have come today.’
Here to Greg’s frustration the conversation changed. Greg was so tired the connection between grandmother and Bronwyn eluded him and though he unashamedly listened to the conversation the names weren’t mentioned again.
Chapter 15
The next few days passed quickly in last minute jobs of grass cutting, rubbish burning and Ray enjoying himself filling Greg’s woodshed. Tod burned the old hay and straw, hosing out the stables with disinfectant and mending the doors. In between times they played with the Land rover, starting her up, ripping out the old seats and straightening out the roof struts. The boys were definite they must leave after the concert on Thursday having stayed longer than they should because of Ray wanting to meet the brown eyed girl from the pub again. He had already called in The Green Man twice since the weekend and the concert was the last time before he had to go. He was pleased he had got Greg off to a good start as he called it but was worried as he could see his friend far from well and couldn’t fathom how he was going to manage after they had left. Greg was worried that he couldn’t seem to find time to talk to Ray as Tod was constantly with them and Greg felt it was only fair to put Ray in the picture first before anyone one else but the days were flying by and Thursday morning was on them when Ray approached Greg.
“Are you coming to the concert tonight? Its local talent performing for the children’s fund, tickets at the door.”
“Right” Greg said with a grin. “Anything for a quiet life, we’ll go but no setting up dates for me mind.” Ray went to phone brown eyes.
“Count me out.” Tod yawned. “I’m watching the match and there are a couple of beers with my name on them in the back. See you later.” The concert had started when they arrived but they found they had seats saved for them by brown eyes now introduced as Megan Lewis a pretty girl in her twenties who apparently helped a lot with Save the Children events. There proved to be a lot of real talent here for a small mountain village, beautiful voices with harmony and rhythm. Small children kept forgetting words, the most unlikely farmers and their families doing almost professional comedy acts, duets, piano recitals and playing in small brass bands. Chapels and churches, Girl Guides, brownies, cubs and scouts, Women’s Institute and The young Farmers all made worthwhile contributions many showing exceptional talent. While an attractive farmer’s wife was singing a hauntingly beautiful song with a great deal of professionalism, Greg relaxed and looked around. A couple who were sitting in front of him, rose quietly collected coats and whispering apologies tiptoed out leaving a clear view through to the front row. He gave a start. Near to the aisle at the front was the red-haired girl, her beautiful hair now gathered in plats coiled around her head, next to her sat a white haired woman dressed in blue with which she exchanged an occasional remark. That it was the girl who had so intrigued him at the dance he was almost certain but as the people who sat behind them kept leaning forward to whisper together he only had glimpses. The song ended in a storm of clapping, the lights came on and supper was announced.
Greg rose to his feet struggling past Ray who was deep in conversation with Megan and made his way resolutely to the side room where tea was being served. Pushing ruthlessly past a family who were trying to reach the buffet table, he came face to face with the same grey eyes he had met before. The green suit fitted a figure tall and slender. The mass of hair pulled back from a heart shaped face, creamy skin with a smattering of freckles, rather high cheek bones and a delightfully straight nose. Her full lips parted in a slight smile as she recognised him although slightly built she gave air of wiry fitness.
‘Hello, we meet again.’ Her voice was low and musical with a slight inflection. Greg felt his heart stop and his stomach lurch. He held out his hand.
‘Hello, I’m Greg Morgan I’ve just bought Graig-y-dorth’
‘We didn’t get chance to introduce ourselves last week.’
‘We did not.’ The lilt in her voice didn’t sound welsh. ‘I’m Olwen Jameson.’ They shook hands.
‘And I’m thirsty, if you two want to stand there jabbering, let me through before the tea is all gone.’
“Oh! I’m sorry Granny. This is a young man I met the other night at the dance.” She stood aside and to Greg’s dismay behind her stood the witch, Bronwyn Rhys.
“I know him, we’ve met. He almost ran me and Samuel Peeps down the other day.”
“Really I didn’t.” Greg managed to get out.
“Come on Granny. Let’s get some tea while it’s hot. I’m sure Mr Morgan wouldn’t do any such thing on purpose. You’re such a cross patch at times.’
“Please call me Greg. May I get you both some tea?’
“It’s alright thanks, we can manage.” In spite o
f her soft tones, Greg felt rather than heard the independence in her ‘probably like her grandmother if crossed’ he thought irritably. ‘Why couldn’t she have been on her own tonight? It must be her Jeep in the yard’ he smiled to himself to think of the witch travelling in a Jeep.’ Would Olwen have to drive very slowly and sound her horn on all the bends?’
Olwen turned and smiled at him “Maybe we’ll meet again?” She murmured. Tucking her hand in her grandmother’s arm they moved away. Later Greg saw them talking to the vicar at the door. At least he now knew her name. It suited her. ‘Olwen ‘he murmured over to himself as he finally turned to find Ray. As usual Ray was feeding his face and alternately Megan’s, both fully occupied. Disconsolately Greg helped himself to coffee and a scone, later returning to his seat he was dragged into a long conversation about farming and the weather by a man in a brown suit and gaiters. It was only when the lights were lowered for the second half and everyone returned to their seats that he realised that Ray and Megan hadn’t returned to theirs and he was free to watch the movements of the girl and her grandmother two rows in front and muse to himself. It was sod’s law for her to be the grandchild of the one person that he always seemed to be out of favour with and Olwen herself to be slightly unapproachable. He thought of girls he had known, including Stephanie who had practically thrown themselves at him and now? ‘I’m sure Mr Morgan didn’t do it on purpose.’ ‘Who does she think she is?’. Then he remembered the feel of her hair under his hands and her head dropping to his shoulder. Whoever she was and whatever she is he knew he wanted to see her again. In spite of everything he had to see her again.
Chapter 16
It was a dull and cloudy day when Ray and Tod left. The house felt cold even with the fire lit and all the lights on. The mountain seemed to brood over the farm. Greg felt bereft and guilty. For the first time he wondered at his wisdom in coming here. At no time had he attempted to tell Ray the truth and had drifted along with them enjoying almost a holiday and a sense of adventure, except it wasn’t a holiday for him and wasn’t going to be an adventure. Ray’s bright happy face and Tod’s tireless energy had kept them all going. Greg hadn’t experienced being here alone as yet and he was beginning to wonder what he was thinking of and what he had done. The sheds were stacked with wood and the garden cleaned off for Greg’s father who had said he was coming up to plant it. Inside walls had been plastered and painted, windows cleaned and repaired, doors oiled, bedrooms cleaned and painted two of which were now serviceable and warm with a single bed and wardrobe in each; more furniture would have to wait until some money came in, the bathroom was clean and fully functional. Major repairs were still needed; ie new roof and the extension sorted out but at least the house was liveable for the present.
Greg had tried to work as best he could along with his friends, trying not to show when he was tired or in pain, now it was a relief to be on his own not having to hide how he felt, exhausted, with pain often not far away. He decided to do nothing but read and rest for a few days. An engineer had come to sort the television so although he couldn’t get as many programs as he was used to, he could enjoy a good picture and some of his favourite shows, not that he was used to all this sitting around but he felt he had better discipline himself or he would be in real trouble. He hadn’t heard about his driving but it was only a matter of time, the notification had probably gone to his old address and doctor; it would catch up any time now and he had no idea how he would manage then. He was such a fool to think everything was going to be alright here, he had visions of having to sell up again and go home.
He felt more than guilty about not talking to Ray when he had the chance. He knew Ray was not altogether taken in with his story about a lung spot. He’d caught him looking at him several times with real worry in his eyes but Greg had not been able to put it into words especially with Tod around and all the work they had done. Perhaps when Ray came back on his own it would be easier, he would be hurt and angry but at least they could talk it out. He would have to know sometime but Greg himself could push the shadows back in Ray’s sunny presence and selfishly hang on to summer because once Ray knew; things would never be the same again. They had eaten their last meal together at The Copper Beech and been greeted as if they were old customers. Ray had kept them laughing with merry quips about different people and talking almost nonstop about Megan the brown eyed barmaid with whom he was obviously smitten. Now he was gone and Greg had to face his demons again. He reached for his mobile to ring his parents just as British Telecom drove in the yard to install his land line After they had finished it was a pleasure not to have to fight with the signal on his mobile. He usually had to go up to the road to get a good signal now he could ring from his armchair.
“Mum when you come bring your sewing kit there are several curtains needing your attention and a couple of your pies wouldn’t go amiss and I miss you.”
His mother thankful to hear he was alright and that he had a landline at last promised that her and his father would be there in a couple of days.
Greg decided he must explore Hay on Wye rather than mope here on his own so taking the chance of not getting lost he took the road past The Copper Beech and kept going. Hay was a delight, quaint old town full of bookshops and antiques; the small winding streets and old fashioned shops fascinated him. Parking in the huge open carpark that seemed as large as the town itself, he browsed happily around the town following wandering streets that always seemed to bring him back to where he started. He visited the arcade of antique shops, enjoying the lovely china, furnishings and products of a bygone age for an hour or two before lunching in the old Granary which sold homemade soups and much more. Afterwards he looked at the remains of the castle which had been badly burned a long time ago but was now partially restored. It was too steep for him to actually walk up to the castle itself today so he headed for the old cinema which was known to be one of the largest second hand book store in the country. Books were in every shop and one could spend hours in a shop that sold clothes, fishing tackle or greengrocery just browsing their book store. He chose the Cinema which even had books outside in what used to be the carpark where you paid in a honesty box if you chose something from under the many shed like shelves which saved the books from the rain. As he wandered along the outside racks of books in their display cases, he looked up to see Olwen walking into the bookstore itself. Hurrying inside he found her talking to a man behind the counter discussing a box of books she had brought in. He stood to one side until her business was completed. While she talked he was able to observe her more closely, realising this was the first time he had chance to see her in daylight. Dressed in jeans and a tan jacket almost the colour of her hair, he noticed now she was tall and slender, her movements quick and graceful, when talking she made full use of her hands and body almost physically expressing what she was saying. She concluded her business an was handed an envelope, she thanked him and was turning away when she saw Greg standing near a window, her face lit with a smile as if pleased to see him there.
“Hi” We meet again.” Her large grey eyes gave him the same jolt as they met his as they had before. In daylight they were as clear and soft as rain clouds fringed with long thick lashes darker than her hair which was pulled back hanging in a huge plait down her back. Her face was strong with a determined jaw, the skin creamy with tiny laugh lines around her eyes and wide generous mouth. In the full light of day he could see she appeared older than he first thought when he had met her. He hazarded a guess she could be in her early thirties whereas at the concert he had thought her to be in her twenties. She held out her hand. “Have you come to drink at our enormous house of knowledge?” she asked. He laughed “I heard of this place and wondered if they had anything in these millions of books on Land Rover restoration.”
As they released hands she turned with him to enter the main doors. Greg found himself telling her about the treasure they had found in the shed at Graig-y-dorth and she, to his d
elight showed great interest.
“Come on let’s have a look.” The place was huge but every section in every isle had signs and lists of what could be found At to Z in each subject. Greg had never seen so many books in his life. This is where he could come to browse on a winter’s day he decided. There were books on every subject under the sun, the temptation to stop at each interesting subject overwhelming.
“Come on.” Olwen laughed. “You’ll get used to it if you come often enough and learn to head with your eyes down for what you want and ignore the rest.”
Greg was delighted when they came to a section on mechanical restorations and could see more books on various subjects than he could ever hope to have. His interest in books however was secondary to his interest in his companion who was hunting the shelves as eagerly as himself.
“This is exciting.” She exclaimed. “I love the old types of Land Rovers much better than the newer ones. You are lucky. I love jeeps too, most four wheel drives actually. I have a little red jeep. I adore it, it goes everywhere and anywhere; great for visiting granny and to fetch her shopping when it snows. Maybe you haven’t seen a winter in the Black mountains though you come from the north don’t you? They get some bad ones up there but of course you have a Subaru that will get you through. What will you be doing with the Land Rover? Will you be selling.”
“Not if I can help it.” Greg protested. “I would like to use it if I can do it up; it needs a lot of work though.”