Tansy was just starting to pull on her thickest socks when there was a noise from outside in the yard and a bit of giggling. Then Johnny came into the kitchen to fetch her and Gwennie. “Hang on, hang on,” clucked Nain as she arrived on the scene with a pile of old sheets and some towels.
“What are you up to now?” smiled Tansy. She loved Johnny’s exuberance and his general enjoyment of life; it felt in such contrast to her sluggishness and currently bleak outlook. Perhaps she needed to get a hold of herself a little, show these people that she had a sunnier, more light-hearted side? She didn’t want them to think that she was a miserable old bag that moaned about everything and anything, maybe she needed to try a bit harder and show them a bit of the old Tansy: the Tansy that was lively and fun, before getting herself bogged down, marrying the wrong man and getting pregnant with a baby that she would struggle to look after.
She heard a little more rustling and good-natured arguing from outside and then the door was flung open.
“Ta da!” sang Johnny, and Tansy was shocked to see a massive Silver Cross pram standing on the doorstep, up to its rusty axles in the snow.
“Where did you get that?” she laughed.
“This was Johnny’s when he was a baby,” said Nain proudly, running her cloth over the handle. “I knew we should keep it; these things always come in handy eventually!”
Tansy peered inside, not sure that she wanted her beautiful baby to be driven around in something that was probably full of bird shit and had been home to a family of mice for twenty thousand (mouse) generations. However, although a bit rusty here and there, and with a perished hood, it had been thoroughly cleaned and was now lined with a thick pile of bedding. Any hint of decay would be well out of Gwennie’s reach.
“Look, I’ve even oiled the suspension!” Johnny said proudly bouncing it up and down.
“You wouldn’t believe the amount of times this was very nearly a go-cart,” said Taid quietly from the shadows. Tansy looked at him and could see that he was emotional about the effect that she and Gwennie were having on the apple of his eye.
“Thank you,” said Tansy softly, touching Taid’s forearm, “thank you so much for all you’re doing; I so appreciate it!”
“You’re welcome, bach, you’re very welcome,” he replied, smiling now with his eyes twinkling at her. “Go on then, get the little lady in her new chariot and take her for her first walk with her mam. It’s going to snow again later, so don’t be too long.”
“Right,” said Johnny, clapping his hands together, “let’s get going!” He fetched Gwennie from the house and carefully laid her in the pram, making sure that she was all bundled up.
“She’ll be fine,” said Nain, “these old prams were great at keeping the weather out.”
“Watch for mud though,” called Taid, heading back towards the barn, “you don’t want to get it dirty on its maiden voyage!”
Johnny and Tansy set off across the yard and down the track. Johnny pushed the pram as proud as any biological father would be and the wheels crunched over the snow, its suspension doing a grand job in keeping the worst of the bumps away from Gwennie.
“Are you warm enough?” Johnny asked Tansy, who was shuffling along a little gingerly in Taid’s old wellies with one of Johnny’s coats pulled over her own.
“Yes, thanks,” she smiled, “still a bit sore though, so don’t go too fast!”
“We’ll go as slow as you like!”
They rounded a corner and stopped as a break in the trees opened onto a beautiful vista of snow-clad mountains with tiny little dark patches dotted across them, signifying other farms.
Johnny felt overwhelmed. He was seeing the beauty of the place with fresh eyes. The view that so often was overlooked and taken for granted, coupled with the fact that he was walking next to the woman he loved and her baby, that he was pushing in a pram, made him feel like skipping, like declaring his happiness to the whole world with a loud cry.
His feelings were different from lust. Usually he would take advantage of such a break in proceedings, to perhaps take his lady of the moment by the shoulders as he stood behind her to point out something – anything – on the horizon. His lady would more often than not lean back into him and then he would enclose her in his arms, kiss her on the cheek and then her mouth, then a gentle squeeze of her breast would ensure her becoming putty in his hands.
The more adventurous ones would then go with it, sometimes then grabbing his hand and leading him into the woods, or the field, or the barn or, unfortunately, sometimes behind a burger van. He would let them feel as if they were being a bit cheeky and had taken him by surprise, protesting a bit and saying things like, “Here? Are you mad? Someone’ll see us!” and then allow himself to led away. They would do the business, he’d be all overwhelmed as if he’d been enlightened by a powerful seductress, and the door would be left open for inexperienced little Johnny to be given another time he wouldn’t forget on a different occasion.
The less-adventurous ones would wriggle away, usually giggling a little protestation and he would have to bide his time, be a little more inventive.
Other times he misjudged it completely and would get a “Gerroff me,” snarled at him and occasionally even a slap. Then he would act a little wounded, apologise profusely and change the subject.
However, to pull a stunt like that on Tansy seemed preposterous. It would be crass and sleazy. Tansy should be wooed, looked after and loved. One day, surely, the inevitable would happen, but it would be in a field of flowers or on a goose down quilt in front of a log fire and it would be beautiful and…
Suddenly he was aware that Tansy was standing behind him. She had her head resting gently on his shoulder as she pointed at something across the valley. Johnny froze, not sure what was going on.
“What’s that?” she asked, her voice husky in his ear and her breath soft on his skin.
“What?”
“That little brown barn thing over there.”
“It’s a barn…” he replied and as he turned his head to gauge whether that was what she meant, she wrapped her arms around him, swung herself round and planted a big snogger of a kiss on his lips, grabbed his crotch and squeezed.
“Whoa! Whoa – hang on,” Johnny fought for air and wriggled his groin away from the kneading. “Hang on a minute – just – I’ll just check Gwennie – what was – hang on – phew.”
He didn’t know what to think. It had been wonderful, but no, he wasn’t ready for this; it wasn’t supposed to happen this way! How could she have just grabbed his cock like that? What was she thinking of? Did it mean that she loved him? Was that what that had been about?
Tansy looked at him and laughed. “Sorry, got a bit carried away by the moment – you know. Actually, don’t know what I was thinking – my bits are like chopped liver still; I’d be hospitalised if I tried anything now! Anyway, is Gwennie warm enough? Perhaps we’d better go back, yeah?”
“Er, yeah, it is a bit cold,” he stammered.
“Here, let me push for a while. It’s a nice pram isn’t it? I’d not gotten around to buying one yet – so expensive you know. Thought I’d wait and see what sort I could get away with, but, yeah, this one’s nice – fill my house though! I’d have to park it in the lounge!”
Johnny stood and watched as Tansy walked, still a little cautiously, up the track. His mouth was wide open. She might have well have jumped up into the air, turned into an overripe tomato, squished herself all over her face, then bounced away laughing for all the sense it had made.
“Tansy – hang on…” he trotted after her and soon caught up. “Tansy,” he puffed, out of breath from the exertion of such a shock, “what happened then…it was…”
“Oh, sorry, Johnny,” she laughed, dismissing it as if she’d made a small faux pas by pointing out a stain on his wellie boot instead. “Got a bit carried away! It happens sometimes, doesn’t it? Well, it does to me anyway! Anyway, d’ya know, I’m starving! Even this little walk ha
s made me so hungry!”
Johnny had been brushed off, plain and simple and he didn’t know what to do. He’d played games with people before and it had all been fun, hadn’t it? This wasn’t fun. He was in love and when people are in love, others shouldn’t toy with their emotions.
Had it meant that Tansy…loved him? Would an “in love” person grab at someone’s crotch like that? No, an in love person would stroke his hair and whisper sweet things to him. So, she wasn’t in love with him then. Surely that wasn’t just lust? It couldn’t have been, could it? Just a poorly executed attempt to pull, to have a fumble on the track, a rummage in the snow? But it couldn’t have been – because he loved her and therefore it shouldn’t work like that…
They arrived back, Tansy still three paces in front of Johnny and chattering about some snowman she’d made as a child. Nain came running out to meet them from the barn. “Oh good, you’re back. Johnny, love, can you go in and help Taid – he’s got a bullock that’s cut his leg on a sheet of corrugated. He can’t get to look at it as the beggar won’t keep still. Can you help him – just hold his head?”
“Course,” he grunted and headed off for the barn, relieved to have an excuse to get out of the way.
“How was your walk, bach?” he heard Nain say as she walked back into the house with Tansy and little Gwen.
“Lovely thanks – just so nice to be up and about, and such a beautiful day!”
CHAPTER 28
Chwilen yn ei ben – a beetle in his head (obsessed with some matter or a bee in his bonnet)
Iestyn arrived at Johnny’s farm at nine o’clock, as agreed. “Morning!” he shouted as he clomped straight into the kitchen, taking off his wellie boots and slinging them into the corner. “Mornin’, Nain, mornin’, Taid. How are you?”
“Good thanks, boy. You?”
“Yes, good thanks. And this must be Tansy?” he said as he settled himself at the table and reached for some toast.
“Hello,” she smiled.
“And Gwennie, we meet again!” The others laughed as Gwennie stared blankly at him.
“She’s sure she recognises you,” said Tansy, “come on, Gwen, say good morning!”
A mug of tea was pushed towards Iestyn and he took it gratefully in his large chapped hands. “Thank you, oh, it’s good to be warm again. That bloody truck of mine and its bloody window!”
“Still stuck?” asked Taid.
“Well, I did take the door apart and got it to go up, but then Dad took the bloody thing out again, met John the Cwm, wound it down for a chat and – bang – stuck again. And only the coldest winter for about forty years…”
“Yes, since 1947,” Nain muttered.
“No, 1987 was colder,” Taid replied.
“No, it was on the news, 1947.”
“Shall we go?” Johnny stood up and his chair pushed back with a scrape.
“Oh,” Iestyn said, still buttering some toast, “er, OK.” He raised his eyebrows at Nain, slurped at his tea and quickly slopped some marmalade onto his toast. Johnny grabbed his jacket from behind the door and shrugged himself into it.
“Have you got the keys?” said Tansy, half getting to her feet, “they’re in my bag…”
Johnny found her bag on a peg and brought it to her in silence. “Just get them out,” she said, “I don’t mind,” but instead Johnny handed her the bag and waited for her to find them.
“Thanks, Johnny, I really appreciate this. You too, Iestyn.” Tansy seemed unsure of herself, as if she had asked one favour too many for Johnny’s liking.
“You’re welcome,” Iestyn said, “no problem at all.”
“Yep, but we’d better get going; bloke’s coming at ten.” Johnny took the keys and headed for the door.
Iestyn followed his friend marching out into the yard, “Oi, slow down!” he called with a mouthful of toast. “What’s up?”
“We’ll go in my truck; it’ll be warmer.”
“Johnny, m’n, what’s goin’ on?”
“Forget it. Let’s just go, can we?”
They drove in silence for a few minutes, Johnny staring straight ahead, his eyebrows knitted together. Iestyn faffed about in the passenger seat, removed his rigger boot and adjusted his ruffled sock, drummed a rhythm on his knee and then started fiddling with the stereo. Eventually he couldn’t bear it any longer.
“What’s up, mate?”
“She kissed me.” They spoke together.
“Oh.” Iestyn was confused. “Isn’t that a – a good thing from someone you’re supposed to be in love with?”
“She kissed me – on a whim. On an impulse. In a sleazy, chancer kind of way. As if, well, as if she got a good response it would be a bonus and if she didn’t, well, who cares…” He turned to Iestyn, who was still struggling to understand Brechdan’s reaction, “Don’t you get it?” he said, his face full of angst, “that’s the kind of thing that I would do, if I felt it might be worth a try and wasn’t that bothered if it went wrong. Can’t you see why that makes it mean nothing?”
Iestyn digested this for a few seconds, then burst into laughter, slapping the dashboard in delight. “Johnny Brechdan! At last you’ve met your match! Your soulmate: that’s fantastic!”
At last Johnny managed a smile, “Well, not really. It’s made me realise what a cock I’ve been! Oh God, I’d have been chuffed as buns if this had happened with anyone else, but just this once, I’d wanted it to be special, y’ know?”
Iestyn was pleased to see that the frown was now gone, but he knew that his friend was still in turmoil. “Look, mate, just because you do these things in that way, it doesn’t mean that Tansy does.” Johnny looked interested, so he carried on. “She might have desperately wanted to kiss you, but didn’t know how to or just got carried away by the moment and then when it didn’t work, got all embarrassed. I think the moral here is not to judge everyone else by your dodgy standards!”
“Yeah,” Johnny said, looking brighter and nodding in agreement. “Perhaps she did want to, but didn’t know how to, so she did it badly.”
“That’ll be it. Have a chat with her when you get back; she’ll probably be feeling sick at the response you gave her this morning. Put her out of her misery and let her know you’re cool about it.”
Johnny nodded again. “Cheers, mate, I will. Anyway – did you hear about Olwen Richards turning her truck over? On her way home from Daniel Hargreaves’ place apparently? John Richards has gone mad. Said that the truck was his favourite…”
Iestyn laughed and they chattered away as they normally would until they pulled up outside Tansy’s end of terrace cottage. “OK, here we are,” Johnny said, and they jumped out and headed for the door.
Tansy was sitting in an old rocking chair by the fire. It had been brought down from Nain and Taid’s bedroom for her. “Johnny’s mother used to feed Johnny sat in this chair,” Nain had said as she whipped a duster around the base of the rails, “said it was good for her back.”
Tansy had thanked her gratefully and rocked gently back and fore using her socked toe propped against the Rayburn door.
She felt sick to her stomach. She’d gone and arsed it all up again. Why did she do it? She couldn’t just sit back and gauge a situation like other people did, she always jumped in, did something silly, and then had to regret it later. And now she’d upset Johnny. The poor bloke was only being kind because she’d given birth right in front of him. What on earth would a bright bloke like him want with her – recently separated from her husband and with a baby that would never be his?
She’d been ridiculous – and now he was offended and although he had still gone to help with her house, it would be only because he couldn’t wait for her to get out of his bed – and his house. He’d been so kind and wonderful, he and his lovely family, and then she’d gone and thrown it all back in his face with a naff grope that was better-suited to the back of a rugby club, rather than a walk with her new baby on a crisp afternoon. All she’d been trying to do was to look al
l light-hearted and fun, but instead had been crass and immature, like a teenager overcome with feelings of excitement that they didn’t yet know how to contain.
What would happen now? She wouldn’t be able to stay if he were trying to avoid her – and he couldn’t have left the house any quicker that morning – it would be unfair on him and on Nain and Taid. She’d have to go home – perhaps if she could get the heating fixed, the rest could be sorted around her? It wasn’t what she had had in mind when she and Greg had first talked about starting a family. She should’ve been sat next to him on a sofa, not sat on her own in a damp house with no carpets.
A tear slid down her cheek, then another one. She wiped it from Gwennie’s sleeping face and felt in her pocket for a tissue.
“All right, lovely?” came a gentle voice from beside her and a cup of tea was placed on the edge of the Rayburn. Tansy looked up and gave a watery smile. “Thanks, Gwen. I’m sorry, I’m just a bit weepy today.”
“That’s OK, love, being a mum takes its toll on you.” Gwen senior sat on the sofa next to her and sipped at her own drink. She never did this and Tansy knew that she’d come to listen if she wanted to talk.
“Oh, Gwen,” she sobbed, “I’ve really messed up.”
“Come on, love, it can’t be that bad?”
“It is – you see, the baby, it – she – isn’t my husband’s, she isn’t Greg’s – that’s why he left me. We’d been trying for years, but nothing. I announced that I was pregnant just as he was about to read me his letter from the clinic that told him that he had no active sperm. He knew straight away, and I knew that he knew, but we carried on with the charade for a bit, but it couldn’t work and he left me a few months later. Said that he couldn’t bring up another man’s child and that…” Tansy started to sob, “…I was a whore and he could never trust me again…”
Gwen took her round the shoulders and hugged her tight. “Oh, my poor girl, you’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last…”
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