Page 17 of Echoes on the Wind (Borrowed Time #2)

Gethin was waiting for me on the doorstep when I arrived home from work the next day, and as soon as I stepped through the gate, he handed me a pile of clothes to change into for the evening’s festivities.

“Betty’s made a washbowl up for you,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “No time to waste. I’ll see you on the green in an hour.”

At the bottom of the bank between the house and the town, the hill evened out to a flat, thin stretch of grass where the festival would be held. I’d seen on my walk home that the bonfire had already been built, along with a stage and a maypole, and large tents had been erected for local business owners to sell their wares. Tonight, the bonfire would be lit, and the May Queen crowned, followed by a parade through the town at noon tomorrow.

“Did the vicar get you?” Betty asked as I came through to the kitchen, then giggled as I nodded and rolled my eyes. “He’s been down there all day.”

Reverend Stephens had placed himself near the bonfire, decrying the festival as a celebration of paganism, and shouting at everyone who walked past, whether they were attending or not. As devout as many of his parishioners were, though, his words and waving arms were falling on deaf ears, and the town continued to ready itself for two days of celebrations.

I grabbed the pitcher and wash bowl that Betty had prepared and took it upstairs to get cleaned up and changed. When I entered the bedroom, I was surprised to see Gwyn already home, and he took the bowl and set it aside before throwing his arms around my shoulders.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“You just seem like you need it.”

“I’ve only just walked through the door.”

He pulled away from me and led me to the bed, sitting us both down on the edge of it. “You weren’t right when you got home yesterday, and you barely said a word this morning. What’s wrong?”

When Mair and I had returned the previous afternoon, I faked a headache and went to bed early. I was still processing what she’d told me, but I knew he’d quiz me for information, and I didn’t want to risk slipping up. I hated keeping things from him, but I didn’t want to make up lies to cover for her either, so I copped out and tried to avoid him instead.

“I’m alright,” I said, keeping it vague. “Just tired.”

He knew instinctively that I wasn’t being entirely honest, but he didn’t press me. Instead, he took my hand and held it in his lap. “You can talk to me, you know? When you’re ready. If something is bothering you, you can tell me. ”

He mocked a scowl and tensed up his shoulders, pulling a boxing pose. “Do you need me to give someone a hiding?”

“Stand down, soldier,” I grinned, dropping my head to his shoulder. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief, but he kissed me on the side of the head and let it drop. “Come on then,” he said, changing the subject. “Let’s see your outfit.”

“I’m already dreading it,” I replied as I moved to the dresser to change. Then, as I looked through the clothes I’d been given, I burst out laughing. “I think Gethin’s made a mistake.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“You’ll see,” I said, hiding it behind my back. “Close your eyes. It’ll be a surprise.”

I don’t know who designed the costume, but I felt certain it would offend the sensitivities of the crowd. There was a shred of dark material for my waist, a bit like a loincloth, only shorter. They’d paired it with a black, hooded cape that tied at the neck but didn’t connect at the front, so it had no function beyond decoration and would do nothing to preserve my modesty.

“Hurry up,” he said impatiently.

“Hang on,” I replied, adjusting the material to make sure I was covered. “Ok, you can look.”

His eyes flicked open and he bolted upright, clasping a hand over his open mouth.

“Wait, wait,” I said, spinning back to the dresser. “I forgot something.”

I put on the mask that came with the clothes and adjusted the little string at the back of my head. It was painted black and covered in broken sticks and twigs that fanned out around the eyes, leaving the bottom half of my face uncovered.

“There,” I said, putting my hands on my hips but struggling to keep a straight face. “I look like a really shit superhero.”

“I don’t know what a superhero is,” he replied, scanning me up and down, “but I know you’re not wearing that.”

“Don’t you think I look good?” I joked, giving my cape a swish.

“I think you look incredible, but that doesn’t mean I want the whole town to see you in your drawers.”

His insistence only made me laugh more. Gwyn was a lot of things, but prudish wasn’t one of them, so I found his protectiveness over my modesty quite sweet.

“It’ll only be for ten minutes,” I said, pulling him up to go. “Besides, it’s already getting dark, so nobody will even know it’s me.”

“Go, Tom,” my brother yelled as I circled the bonfire a little while later.

Somewhere in the background, someone was beating a drum, and eight of us were trying to move in rhythm with it, carrying our burning torches. Gethin had instructed us to look menacing, but I couldn’t help smiling as my friends and family hollered from the sides.

As the rhythm got faster, our movements sped up until an almighty crash of cymbals brought us to a halt. We raised our torches, lighting up the night around us, then on the second clash of cymbals, we set it ablaze, sending flames thirty feet high to a chorus of cheers.

“That was amazing,” Betty said when I made my way back to everyone. “The spirits will be pleased.”

“Silly superstitions,” Gethin said, handing me a drink. “But well done, Tom. Great display.”

I took a large gulp and almost choked. “Jesus, what’s that?”

“Mead. Don’t you like it?”

“In smaller quantities, maybe. I thought it was apple juice. I nearly downed it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t recommend that,” he said, laughing. “Right, I must go. We’ll be doing the crowning soon. Eat, drink, enjoy the festivities.”

He walked off into the mass of people forming queues at the various tents, leaving the rest of us huddled together, chatting.

“Well? What did you think?” I asked Mair.

She could barely contain her smirk as she moved over to me, a cup of mead in each hand. “Hilarious!” she said, bursting with laughter. “I saw more of you tonight than I ever wanted to, or wish to again, but I’ll never forget the sight of you prancing around in your knickers.”

“Well I thought you were brilliant,” Betty said, giving me a tap on the shoulder. “Very brave.”

“Sorry, ladies,” Lee said, putting an arm around my shoulder. “Do you mind if I steal this beautiful wood nymph for a minute?”

He led me away to a less crowded spot and leaned against one of the old beer barrels that had been put out for people to sit on .

“I heard you had another run-in with Awbrey. Are you ok?”

“Well, the bruising is gone,” I replied. “Nellie made me wear a facemask made out of paper and vinegar.”

“Bruising?”

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my jaw. “He whacked me in the middle of the street.”

He bolted up and took me by the shoulders, fuming. “He did what? Tom, I swear I didn’t know, or I’d have come straight over to check on you. All he said was that you ran in front of his carriage, so he yelled at you to mind yourself.”

“Then he’s a liar. He’s lucky I didn’t tell Gwyn, or he’d be over there kicking down the door.

“Do me a favour and don’t tell Tish, either. I don’t think she could cope with any more upset.”

“How is she? I haven’t seen her since the meal.”

“Embarrassed, mostly. She’s ordered flowers for Nellie.”

“She needn’t be. It’s not her fault her father’s a dick. Nobody thinks bad of her for it.”

I spotted Gwyn over Lee’s shoulder, holding two drinks and looking around for me, so I beckoned him over and signalled to Joseph to join us.

“Sorry,” he said, handing me a cup of ale. “I got you this, but didn’t know where you’d gone.”

“We were just catching up,” I said. “Lee was saying that Tish feels embarrassed about what her father did, and I was saying that she shouldn’t.”

“Tom’s right.” he agreed. “At least she seems to be enjoying herself with the coven tonight.”

He pointed over to where Tish, Mair, Betty and Nellie, were deep in conversation. When they spotted us looking, Mair leaned in close and whispered something, and then all four of them turned our way and burst out laughing.

“That can’t be good,” Joseph said, smirking.

“Mind yourselves with that lot,” I joked. “Right, I’m starving. Where’s the food?”

“There’s cakes over in that tent,” Gwyn replied, pointing the way. “Or there’s stew over in that one if you want something warm. I’ll be honest, though, it didn’t look very edible.”

“Cake it is, then. Back in a bit.”

I pushed through the crowds, smiling at everyone who was giving me eyes because of my costume, and went inside to find something to eat. There wasn’t a lot of space, with just enough room for three tables and a handful of people to dawdle around, but the crowds were hungry, and the queue was nearly out the door.

“Nice costume,” someone called from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder and spotted Ellis pushing through the throng to stand beside me. The woman behind let out a disapproving sigh at his intrusion, but was, of course, far too polite to say anything out loud.

“It wouldn’t have been my first choice,” I said, and I stretched the side of the cape to cover myself, wishing I’d brought a change of clothes.

“It suits you,” he said, then his expression turned serious. “Are we alright, Tom? You didn’t talk much at work earlier, and you didn’t come to build the bonfire like you said you were going to. I was expecting to see you there. I waited a while for you.”

“I finished late and had to get straight home. And what with me having to walk, it took longer than planned. ”

I couldn’t help being snide. I still believed he was responsible for my bike getting damaged, but aside from that, his overfamiliarity was starting to grate.

“I’ll fix your bike,” he said, putting a hand on my lower back. “I had a look at it. It’s just the wheel that needs replacing. There are spares in the shed up at the farm. It’s easy enough to change.”

“It’s fine. I can sort it.”

“I don’t mind. Call it a peace offering.”

“Who are you here with?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the table at the front of the queue. I needed to change the subject before I started getting annoyed again.

“Just some friends. You’re welcome to join me until I find them again.”

“Maybe later,” I replied, forcing a half smile. “I’m with my brother at the moment.”

“Yes, I saw. And Gwyn,” he emphasised.

“And Nellie and the others, too,” I countered.

The queue shuffled forward, and there were now only two youngsters standing between me and my getaway.

“Will you be staying late tonight?” he asked. “It usually goes on until after midnight.”

“I don’t know. I’m going to wait and see what the others want to do.”

The two teens in front of me moved aside, allowing me access to the cake table at last. “One of those, please,” I said, pointing to a tray of mini sponges.

The elderly lady manning the stall gave a disapproving glance at my outfit, then grabbed the cake with her fingers and placed it onto a napkin. “ Ha’penny,” she said, without so much as a please or a smile.

I reached for my pocket, and as the realisation hit that I had none, I closed my eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

“I’ll get this,” Ellis said, handing her a coin.

“No. Don’t,” I protested, but the deed was done and she handed him the cake.

“I insist,” he said. He grabbed my hand and placed it into my palm, holding me there until the woman behind us let out an exaggerated cough.

“You really didn’t have to,” I said, pulling away and moving aside. “But thank you. I’ll get my money from Gwyn and pay you straight back.”

“It’s fine. You can owe me.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, but I smiled out of politeness. “I better go. I’ll see you later.”

I rushed off through the crowd back to my friends and found them sitting around the bonfire. The warm evening air was starting to cool, and I was really feeling it wearing so little, so I was glad for the warmth of the flames.

“You took your time,” Lee said as I approached, and I rolled my eyes and shook my head, signalling for him to leave it alone.

“Come on,” Betty said. “They’re going to announce the May Queen,”

She grabbed Joseph and excitedly pushed past, knocking the cake from my hand. I looked down at it sadly and sighed, resigning myself to the fact I wouldn’t be eating for a while longer.

“Sorry, Tom,” Joseph said on Betty’s behalf as they rushed off .

“I was May Queen once, you know,” Tish said, as we began to move towards the stage at the other end of the green. “It’s a wonderful honour. I felt like a real queen for a day.”

“Is there a May King?” Lee asked.

“Some towns have them,” Nellie said, but Gethin hasn’t mentioned anything about one here.

“How’d he end up organising all of this, anyway?” Mair asked.

“He’s aiming for a spot on the council,” Nellie replied, though she didn’t sound particularly enthused. “He thought volunteering for this might help his chances somewhat.”

“Well, it can’t hurt,” I said.

We came to a stop at the maypole, which was currently bare of any decoration, and watched as Gethin and a young woman I didn’t recognise, both dressed in their best, hushed the crowd to silence. Four teenage girls stood on either side of them, all hoping to be crowned to lead the next day’s procession, though how they’d whittled them down to a final eight was anyone’s guess.

“Thank you all for coming,” Gethin said, then he repeated it in Welsh. “This year’s festival has gotten off to a marvellous start, I’m sure you’ll agree. Without any further ado, I’m going to hand you over to Miss Mabel Boyes to announce this year's Bryncoed May Queen.”

The young woman, in an elaborate blue gown trimmed with white lace, took up so much room with her dress that the girls on either side of her had to lean to see around her. She hitched up her skirts and moved forward, showing off her seamlessly matched shoes adorned with blue and white ribbons, then curtseyed to the crowd as though she’d just been crowned herself.

“Thank you, Mr Evans,” she said in one of the thickest Welsh accents I’d ever heard, and the chattering amongst the crowd quieted to hear her speak. “It’s been an honour representing the town, and I’m proud to announce that this year's May Queen is…” She paused for dramatic effect, and some of the girls in the row behind her looked like they might pass out from apprehension. “Doris Collins.”

A girl of about sixteen stepped forward, gasping with excitement as she clutched her chest, before waving enthusiastically at the crowd. The remaining girls, who would now become her attendants for the parade, clapped along too, as Miss Boyes placed a wreath of flowers on her successor's head.

“Congratulations,” Gethin said to the young girl before turning back to the crowd. “Enjoy the rest of the evening. We’ll see you back here in the morning for the parade.”

“It’s so lovely,” Tish said, still clapping excitedly at the stage while the rest of us began to move away.

“Come with me,” Mair said, linking onto my arm. “Before everyone starts getting soppy.”

“Where are we going,” I asked as she pulled me through a crowd watching a juggler.

“In there. And don’t say no. I already asked everyone else.”

She pointed at a small white tent nestled between a hoopla stand and a Punch and Judy booth, with a sign outside that read ‘ Madam Ana’s Tarot ’.

“Seriously? ”

“It’s two for a penny,” she argued. “I want my money’s worth.”

Unlike the other attractions and tents offering food and drink, there was no queue for this one, and Mair stuck her head inside, then pulled back and beckoned me to follow her in.

The woman inside wore an elaborate red and black corseted dress adorned with so many beads and jewels that she rattled as she raised her hands to greet us. Her long black hair flowed from under a red headscarf that trailed down her back, and it was held in place by an ornate band that ran around her forehead. From it, a veil of the same colour hung loosely, hiding everything but her eyes from us.

“I’ve been expecting you,” she said in a thick Irish accent. “Please. Sit.”

Mair, rolling her eyes and suddenly looking sceptical, pushed me forward. “Tom can go first.”

I took a seat at a small round table that was empty but for a black tablecloth and a single candle that gave off the only light in the room. She stared at me for a moment, letting out a slight cough with a nod of her head, and Mair stepped forward and tossed a penny down for her.

“You seek knowledge,” she said, and I shrugged, not really seeking anything, but wishing I hadn’t let Mair talk me into it. “Do you have anything of spiritual value with you this evening?”

“I don’t,” I replied, holding up my hands and patting down my body as though she expected proof. “I didn’t know I would be coming here.”

“You were always coming here,” she replied. “But you’re not from here. ”

“Well, I could have told you that,” Mair said. “Have you heard that accent?”

Madam Ana, ignoring Mair’s interruption, reached across the table and grabbed my right hand, pulling it towards her and tracing a finger around my palm.

“These hands have blood on them,” she said, and a cold shiver rolled over my body. “Your path is wrought with chaos, and danger follows you. They will see blood again before the lies of the father have been untold.”

A silence fell over us as she stared at me across the table. The flickering of the candle danced around her eyes as she studied me, and though I was sure that I was imagining it, a chill seemed to fill the room.

“Good lord,” Mair said from behind me, and her voice cut through the tension with such surprise that I jumped in my seat and pulled my hand back. “Aren’t you meant to give him a message from his dead grandmother, or tell him where to find some treasure or something?”

“I tell only what I am shown,” she replied, and she reached for my hand once more.

“I think I’m done,” I said, standing up and moving away from the table. “Mair can have a go.”

“What? I’m not doing it after that,” Mair said, looking horrified. “She can keep the penny.”

She grabbed me by the arm and led me to the exit, and I heard the rattle of Madam Ana’s beads from behind us.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she called out, and when we turned back around, she was standing up, pointing directly at me. Her voice sounded different now, almost scared, and she rushed forward and grabbed my hand again, gripping it so tightly that I couldn’t pull away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she repeated. Her voice was barely above a whisper now, and there was an ominousness to her tone that filled me with dread. “Neither of you. You travelled so far, carried like echoes on the wind to a place that you don’t belong, but that wind has created a storm, and all those you love will pay the price for it.”

“You’re wrong,” I snapped, and I tried to pull my arm free, but she wouldn’t let me go.

“You will see. A hard lesson makes for a hard man.”

Her words brought me still, and a sickness rolled over in my stomach. “What did you say? What did you mean by that?”

“You don’t belong here,” she said once more.

With her free hand, she reached under her veil and yanked a chain from her neck, then held it up as if she was trying to ward me off, despite not letting go of me.

Hanging from the bottom was a small circular pendant with a square hole cut through the middle, identical to the one the man who’d burgled our house had worn.

“Where did you get that?” I demanded, my heart now thumping in my chest.

With a slight smirk, she tossed my hand loose, leaving the penny we’d given her in my palm. Before I could get her to say anything more, Mair pulled me from the tent.