by Louise James
“Who is it?” Olwen looked up from the card she was reading.
“Listen to this Dear Greg and Olwen, you might want to send this back or put it in the Charity shop. Congratulations to you both, I really mean it. We are so pleased for you and hope all goes well. I know tea sets are out of date now but a girl must always have a nice one to show off in a cabinet. Joseph and I are getting married in March. I loved you Greg but you deserved an Olwen. Joseph is a lovely man and now I’m glad I didn’t marry you. We both pray all goes well with the operation. Get well, be happy, Good Luck. Stephanie and Joseph.
“How lovely is that? I like that, she’s put the record straight. I felt guilty that I’ve got you and she hasn’t. I hope they are happy.’
so do I.” Greg replied firmly. You shouldn’t feel guilty. It was over a long time ago for me. I only hope she is marrying for all the right reasons. Funny fellow Joseph bit of a poser I thought.’
“Well I hope they will be half as happy s we are.” Olwen pulled him down beside her. Who are all these letters from and what is in the other parcel?’
The second parcel was well wrapped and took some getting into. “Darn the knots I’m going to use my knife.” A small packet was fastened to a larger one, as Greg opened it he gave an exclamation of pleasure.
“How fantastic! Look Olwen a packet of cards and messages from the lads on the rig.’
“Wonderful, read them to me slowly.’
Greg was very touched. Some of the men had just sent a line of congratulations, others pages of gossip about the men Greg had known and worked with. Cards of every sort from sentimental to gross indecency, he loved them all sitting on the floor reading them aloud to Olwen with little descriptions of the men who had written them.
“This one with a huge leg of pork cooking is from Fatty Jessop, the cook who is not fat but very skinny in fact he doesn’t look like a cook at all. He has written- I am coming over in summer for Welsh cakes and Herefordshire steak. Tell Olwen she will be cooking for me for a change. Best of luck to both of you. This one is from my Jamaican mate who told me to go to Jamaica for a holiday. He’s a great lad to work with. He writes ‘Won’t ask about the honeymoon but hope baby’s fine. When Greg is fit again come and cook in the Jamaican sunshine with my family. Don’t forget now and don’t forget your old buddy Jo-jo’.” When the messages were all read they opened the parcel. It contained a huge conch shell made into a delightful lamp with a message tied to it. ‘To light your way through a happy future from your mates on Varda’
“How lovely aren’t they dears? Please say we can visit sometime. I would love to meet them all” “I’ll fix something with Tom when the weather is better. They are kind of special. Oh! What is this?” A large envelope was taped to the base of the lamp and addressed to Mr and Mrs Morgan from Tom and Betty Gregson and all the crew on Varda.
“We had a lovely pair of vases and a basket of silk flowers from them. What else would they be sending?” Olwen sat with finger on lip as Greg opened the envelope.
“Glory be listen to this. We are so excited to see that you are making your mark in the world in spite of everything. You are the sort of chap that never gives up so we know that you are going to get well. Congratulations on your venture. Betty and I so enjoyed your beautiful wedding and the chaps enjoyed the masses of photos we sent out to the rig with photos of the farm as well. Please send more as the work develops. The boys are delighted. You can see the result. They all to a man wish you well both in your own future and that of the farm for disabled children. The men are planning a big concert in April to raise some more dosh. Good luck. Tom. The envelope contained three cheques, fifteen hundred pounds from the crew, two thousand from Tom and family and five thousand from the company.
Greg put his head in Olwen’s lap and cried. Too choked to speak, she rocked him her tears dripping into his hair. Much later they opened the rest of the mail. It contained Cards, circulars, bills and cheques from five thousand to the promise of eight thousand from an old friend of Bronwyn’s late husband. Others promised food, games, beds and household appliances. One firm offered a combined washer-drier. A garden firm were holding trees and shrubs until requested. A branded clothing firm offered to supply anoraks, trainers, waterproof clothing and wellington boots as soon as required. The lists and offers seemed endless. Bronwyn had done her work well. It seemed impossible that there should be generosity on such a large scale when there had been no media publicity.
“Granny knows her stuff she said she would get them. Oh! Greg I think your dream is going to come true quickly.’
“I feel such a fool.” he said blowing his nose hard. “I never guessed I can’t handle this. I was so worried that we had started something we couldn’t afford to finish and would look fools.’
Olwen began to laugh. “Do we want two goats in kid for the children to enjoy, a Trogenberg and an Alpine two years old also some rabbits suitable for children to handle, a tortoiseshell (I thought that was a cat) rabbit. Pair of Dutch Dwarfs an Andulaisian something or other—I can’t make it out and two guinea pigs. They also say they can offer some rare breeds of chickens and geese and best of all a pair of Pot-bellied pigs. Oh! Greg!’
“I just don’t know where to start.” Greg looked bewildered. “We have nothing prepared for this.” He picked up another letter. “Oh! Heavens above; this is from a lady in Berkshire. Lady Saunders-Smiles- Medlington- where do they get their names from? She heard via her doctor- (that’s Bronwyn’s hand again) she is sending two peacocks. I don’t believe this- they are arriving by train on January twentieth, she thinks they will amuse the children. That’s this month Olwen. Don’t laugh help me.’
“Olwen rolled on the rug helpless with laughter. She sat up wiping her eyes. “When is Ray coming?’
“Not until the twentieth and his wedding is on the sixth. He won’t have time.’
“We’ll manage I’ll talk to Fred in the morning.” Olwen sat up a smile still tugging at the corners of her mouth. “It’s not as bad as it looks. We can ring the goat woman she will have to keep them until after Ray’s wedding, we don’t have time for them anyway; same for the rabbits. I’ll ring the pet shop and tell them we have to get pens; they can go in the stables anyway out of the cold. We’ll buy a couple of hutches.” Her mouth twitched again and catching Greg’s anxious green eyes, she exploded while he watched helplessly as she laughed until she cried. His lips twisted involuntarily as her laughter infected him. In future times the word peacocks brought instant laughter to them both.
The peacocks duly arrived at Abergavenny station with a bag of food and elaborate instructions as to their care and diet, which Fred promptly lost and shut them in with the chickens to the cockerel’s disgust’ letting them out a few days later to shout their melancholy call over the mountains, Olwen thought them beautiful but extremely noisy and feared they would be frightening to city bred children. Bronwyn when she heard came striding up the road to urge Olwento get rid of them as they were known to be extremely unlucky.
“Do you know that a Gypsy will not visit a house where there are peacocks? They bring bad luck and so do their tail feathers.’ This started Greg off.
“Sure it’s good luck to keep the Gypsies off and what did the feathers have to do with anything.” He laughed. Olwen gave him a level look and said that if Granny thought they were unlucky so did she so she sold them and bought some Chinese Geese and fluffy Dorking chickens instead.
Chapter 35
At the end of January it snowed heavily and they woke one morning to a winter wonderland. Light and crisp it coated the trees like blossom. They enjoyed a snowball fight until Greg complained that his chest hurt whereupon Olwen pushed him into a chair and forbade him to move a finger.
“It’s always when I try to forget and enjoy myself a little” he moaned.
“It’s my fault.” Olwen insisted. “I should watch more carefully.”
&nbs
p; Ray arrived that evening, the Pick-up piled high with boxes, trunks and bags. A furniture van was to arrive in the morning. After supper and a catch-up on the news (he was disappointed to miss the Peacocks) he went off to see Megan who was working. Olwen was clearing the meal while Greg dozed beside a roaring fire in the lounge Rocky went to the front door growling softly in his throat. Olwen went to let him out but Greg suddenly motioned her back. Taking her hand he led her softly up the stairs to the landing window. Rocky was now barking and growling at the garden door. Creeping from window to window in the dark rooms they peered out. Nothing stirred the snow which had started to melt clung in corners and crevices leaving the areas between black and mysterious. They could see nothing on the yard but a slight movement in the garden caught Greg’s eye. He opened the window yelling which made a figure which had been in the garden and was now climbing over the wall leap down, run down the yard through the gate and disappear through the orchard.
“Two guesses as to who that was.” Greg muttered shutting the window.
“Surely it can’t be Luke” Olwen breathed in his ear. “What can he want after all this time and in this weather an all? He must be crazy.”
“He’s queer. Ask your Granny. It just comes into his head to see if he can catch Rocky or just to upset him because we stopped him. Who knows?”
“What can we do to stop him?”
“Don’t let Rocky out on his own for any reason we must always take him with us. At night Ray or I will take him out. The moon must affect him or something.”
“Are you sure it’s Rocky he’s after?”
“There is nothing else of interest to him is there? He’s banned from keeping dogs but if he could get Rocky, he is a damn good sheepdog, he could keep him hidden, just using him when he wanted but he is cruel enough to destroy him out of spite if he can’t have him.”
“Greg, what are we going to do?’
“What we have always done. Everyone knows the situation. Bronwyn, Fred, Jeff, the builders and the local farmers; they all keep an eye. Ray is here now and Megan.’ Olwen wasn’t convinced and decided to have a chat with Jeff in the morning.
The next few days were hectic for everyone except Greg who was supervisory only except for a little paperwork. Megan came every day but wouldn’t move in until she was married.
“I’m an old fashioned girl and I have to go home overnight to get married anyway.” Ray moaned and complained but she was adamant. “It’s not long now calm yourself.’
Carpets arrived and were laid. Curtains hung, Ray’s boxes unpacked and furniture sorted then it was Megan’s turn to bring all her belongings and the contents of her bottom drawer to every ones amusement and curiosity. “I told you I’m an old fashioned girl and that is what they did.’
“I’ll bet Ray got her into bed already though.’ Greg whispered in Olwen’s ear. “Fact I know because he told me.’
“You can talk, can’t you?” Olwen whisked out of the door before he could say any more.
Megan was thrilled to have Ray’s grandmother’s things. “They are beautiful and I am one lucky girl to have them.” She told Olwen who when she saw them had to agree.The flat was spacious and comfortable. The sitting room where the plaster was still drying was to be decorated later. The two bedrooms were painted in pretty sweet-pea colours with matching covers, curtains and shades. The bathroom was an exciting combination of royal blue, pale green and white while the kitchen washed in cream with gingham curtains was just big enough for them to cook a meal in private or if they had guests. The garden door which Greg and Olwen seldom used made a private entrance to the back stairs (once the only stairs) where from the landing a small flight of steps led up to the flat. Greg was amazed every time he came to it that so much had happened in so short a time. Graig-y-dorth was now an impressive house with a flat, two staircases, five bedrooms, two bathrooms, an enormous kitchen and utility and a large lounge, a far cry from the dilapidated cottage with a tin roof. There was still a lot to be done but the worst was over now as soon as the weather improved it would be all systems go to build the new unit for the children. Ray and Megan were delighted with their first home if they needed more room later they would buy house as near as possible but for the moment everyone was pleased with the way things had worked out, if there were shadows in Greg’s eyes, a haunted look in Olwen’s when alone and worry dimming the joy of the coming wedding, it was because of the ominous silence of Greg’s bleeper.
The sky was heavy threatening more snow. A cold wind blew over the mountain and the chickens returned to their hutch after feeding. It was two days to the wedding at Graigwen church and afterwards at ‘The Green Man’ where Megan worked. Greg went to the doctor’s and to collect a few bits of shopping from the village. He drove very little now and only enjoyed a short trip to the village in ‘Patience’ if he was feeling well. Olwen told him to make the most of this outing as Doctor Davies had already warned him not to drive so his notification from D.V.L.S would shortly arrive. It was only luck for him it hadn’t already. Megan was at work, Ray had gone into town on wedding errands and Olwen had much to do. Several guests would be staying with them Greg’s parents and Dave, Liz and their two boys. Ray’s parents sister jenny and husband Ken would arrive tomorrow and although staying with Megan’s parents would be coming with them to dinner in the evening. Olwen was glad that Sally and John would be here to help her.
After a light lunch the urge to leave her chores and take Rocky for a good walk was overwhelming. Giving herself several reasons why she shouldn’t, thoughts of a walk before everyone including the forecast snow arrived was enticing. Wrapping up warmly she set off Rocky at her heels although stopping every now and then for exciting smells he still stayed close to her. Although Greg’s dog he regarded Olwen as his sacred charge and spent much time with her. It felt good to have some time to herself in the cold fresh air, she enjoyed being alone. It was the first time for a while she had time to herself to think.The baby was very much a presence now although fit and carrying easily she did get very tired and uncomfortable at times. Today was a good day as she strode onwards and upwards. The hill road curved as it climbed so one never realised how high one had gone until they reached the top where there was a car park and picnic area where tourists could sit admiring the Black Mountains which lay ahead and the view which covered three counties. Here in summer crowds ate their packed lunches before changing their shoes ready for the climb ahead. This time of year there was not a soul in sight. The air was clear and cold in spite of heavy cloud and Olwen breathed deeply as she walked convinced it was good for the baby. Through matted grass at the roadside tiny shoots were emerging, a reminder that Spring could not be far away. In a sheltered spot she noticed a gleam of yellow, delighted she spotted a lone primrose in bud.
“Good grief.” With a struggle she bent down to stroke it with one finger, loathe picking it out of its nest in last year’s grass “You are too early, don’t you let the frost get you.” She straightened and walked on noticing there were tiny catkins on the hazel bushes and a green sheen on the pussy willows. In the car park she sat on a large stone gazing at the hills and the village of Graigwen below her. The cloud was beginning to come down now and within minutes the village was hidden from view. Olwen suddenly felt very lonely and slightly melancholy thinking about Greg, sitting here she allowed thoughts that she usually kept at bay to come in. She looked hard at the situation. He was definitely worse and in more pain than he showed her. She tried to make him rest taking on more jobs each day to spare him but it was hard and she longed desperately for the time when Ray and Megan would be back from their honeymoon and settled in. They had suggested putting the honeymoon off until later in the year but as she pointed out he could get worse and she would need them then more than ever. ‘Why wouldn’t that blasted bleeper go off?’ Surely there must be a heart somewhere for Greg before it was too late. Heart transplants were common these days. Why did his
have to be so difficult to find? How did his father and mother stand it? She knew Sally had a bad time of it and wondered how she coped. She realised with dreadful feelings of guilt that she had never told Greg about the rape. How could she when he had so much to bear already? That dreadful time had never left her mind but why should she put that on his mind when he already had so much to bear? No she would keep it to herself where it couldn’t hurt anyone else. Tears slid down her cheeks as fear stalked closer mostly she could keep it at bay as they both kept eyes firmly on the future and their dreams, now alone, tired and snow pressure building she sat and cried. Her eyes blurred with tears, the first inkling of anyone about came from Rocky who suddenly left her side and went barking through the woods below. Brushing away her tears she stood up calling, only the sound of barking came back to her.
‘Damn the dog I should have brought a lead but he never leaves me like that. I bet he saw a rabbit but he always comes when he’s called. That’s not an excited bark anyway it’s a threatening one. Please God, don’t let it be Luke.’ She started after the dog hurrying the best she could over the uneven ground calling and shouting as she went. The sound of his barking faded into silence. She tried to run but dead bracken and roots caught her feet, the baby weighing heavy and cumbersome. Several times she almost lost her footing or a branch whipped across her face bringing teas to her eyes. She began to weep openly now with fear and frustration. She had to stop for breath with a stitch in her side trying to listen. There was no sound save for a dog barking a long way away across the valley. She rushed on again; a pheasant fled from under her feet, her side hurting she sobbed aloud. Suddenly far away to her right a shot rang out, a dog’s sharp cry of pain then silence. She screamed. “Rocky, Rocky.” There was total silence. Flakes of snow hissed through the leaves and drifted into her mouth as she called again and again in desperation. The faster she moved the faster the flakes seemed to fall settling quickly on the fallen leaves, the rustle of snow the only sound on the darkening hillside.