by Goss, James
Look forward to a quick reply,
xTomx
Rhys
Pity really. The potatoes I’d planted were just starting to come up. I’d be sorry to leave them behind, but there we go. You can’t have everything. The day the phone lines started working again in Rawbone was the day Gwen started packing.
I walked down into the village, to say a quick goodbye to a few people. We knew it wouldn’t be long.
Tom and Josh were in, their little cottage full of clutter and half-read newspapers. Tom leapt up. ‘Sorry about the mess,’ he said, his hair a carroty mess. He even had a small thatch of red stubble. ‘It all goes to pot when you’ve not got work on. Billy keeps on offering to tidy up, but I’ve told him there’ll be none of that.’
Billy came in, polite and neat. He’d made an effort to wear a hoodie and some jeans, but even the jeans looked ironed. ‘Would you care for some tea, Mr Williams?’
Tom rolled his eyes. ‘Josh!’ he called, fiddling with his phone.
Josh came barrelling down the stairs. ‘What now?’
‘Talk to the child.’
Josh sighed theatrically. ‘OK then, young man. For a start it’s “Kettle’s on if you want anything.” And for another thing, you are 15. You don’t offer to do anything for anyone. I caught you doing the washing-up again this morning. Never again.’
‘Sure,’ said Billy. He leaned over Tom and pointed to his phone. ‘Surely you can get both pigs with the Boomerang bird if you do this…’ He tapped the screen, and Tom’s face fell.
‘Damn,’ he groaned.
‘I am sorry,’ said Billy.
‘Another thing!’ scolded Josh, resting an arm on Tom’s shoulder. ‘No apologising. Just assume everything is our fault. It always will be for about the next ten years.’
‘OK,’ said Billy. He didn’t look at ease with it, but he was trying.
Tom didn’t look up from his phone. ‘No, say it again, but with muttering.’
‘OK,’ muttered Billy. He went to the kitchen and made us tea anyway.
Josh flopped down on the sofa next to Tom, who gestured to a chair covered with the weekend’s papers. I nestled among the travel pages.
‘So…’ I said. ‘If I’d known I’d have bought a card from the village shop.’
Josh and Tom looked at each other. It was a look that said they’d made the decision, but they weren’t exactly comfortable with it.
‘Look,’ began Tom, and then stopped.
‘We had to,’ finished Josh. ‘I mean… no one offered to take him in.’
‘When Davydd left… after what happened… well, no one else wanted him.’ Tom stopped. Awkward. ‘I felt responsible.’
Josh tutted. ‘It’s a relief, I suppose. And rather modern.’
‘Shaddup,’ growled Tom. ‘Turns out having a kid is rather fun.’
Josh poked him idly in the ribs. ‘We may actually make good parents.’
‘Plus he empties the cat’s litter tray.’ Tom looked delighted. ‘And it allows me to think that I’m not just slobbing around… I’m setting him an important example.’
Billy came in. ‘We’re out of milk,’ he announced curtly, and poured a cup for himself. ‘OK if I go upstairs?’
‘That’s my boy,’ laughed Tom. ‘They grow up so fast.’ He called out to Billy, ‘Have another scrub of your face – I swear you’re getting spots.’
‘Am I?’ asked Billy. ‘Would that be normal?’
‘Bloody normal,’ said Josh. ‘It means you’re becoming a man.’
‘I see,’ said Billy, and went upstairs.
‘So,’ asked Josh, considering me carefully. ‘Where are you off to next?’
‘I have no idea,’ I said, truthfully. ‘But we are going. Sharpish.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. I think… I don’t think we’re needed here any more.’
Gwen was waiting for me impatiently, the car stuffed fuller than a Christmas hamper.
Jenny Meredith had helped her pack, the two of them keeping a slightly awkward truce. Jenny stood back. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘That’s OK,’ said Gwen, and smiled at her. ‘You’ll be fine.’
‘I hope so,’ shrugged Jenny. ‘But we’ll see.’ She nodded to Anwen. ‘Goodbye.’ Jenny turned on her heel and skipped away.
Gwen and I watched her go.
‘Right then,’ Gwen exhaled, like she’d been holding her breath. ‘You’re reading the map and I’m driving.’
I waved at Anwen on the back seat. For a moment she considered waving back, then her eyes drifted closed.
Gwen jumped into the car and revved the engine. I sat down next to her with a pile of Ordnance Survey maps. No Satnav for us. We were running away old school.
‘How long do you think we’ve got?’ I asked.
Gwen stared up into the sky. ‘Well, no sign of any helicopters.’ She smiled. ‘Maybe that means we’re less important.’
In the distance, I could hear traffic approaching from the nearby hills. It could just be a local bus and a couple of cars. Or it could be something else. Time we were off.
‘Best not risk it,’ I said.
‘Yeah,’ agreed Gwen. She sneaked a look back to check Anwen was strapped in, and then we drove off.
We sped through the village, past the rows of quiet little houses, the streets full of those beautiful flowers. As we left it, Rawbone seemed different. For one thing, I could hear the sounds of children playing.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Helen, Lucy, Jac, Jess, Gemma, Beth and Gary for baby-rearing info. To Russell T Davies for advice about breastfeeding. And to the Affection Unit for a variety of remarkable hats.
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