Page 5

Hywel

Hiraeth was beautiful. It seemed like every time I left the little village and headed back to London or travelled to cities around the world I forgot the place I’d come from and all the charms it held.

Once we were out of the narrow country lanes, the route was downright pleasant.

It followed the little stream that was the beating heart of the village.

I looked over at Prentis. He’d looked old last time I had seen him, and that hadn’t changed.

In fact, he’d looked pretty much the same for the last decade or so.

Did that mean he looked young for his age now?

I didn’t know. But wrinkled hands, crows feet around the eyes and a shock of white hair? Same old Uncle Prentis to me.

We passed the little village pub at one end of the high street and Uncle Prentis slowed down as we came toward the run of shops in the high street.

This had been a sore point in the town for a couple of decades.

Other than a bakery, butchers and charity shop, the other shops had all lain dormant and boarded up.

I knew Uncle Prentis had sold up his cafe too but when the high street finally came into view I was astounded.

All seven shops in the row were now filled.

Everyone had Christmas decorations up and lights were strung between the shops and the streetlights on the opposite side of the road.

Uncle Prentis pulled up in a parking space opposite the shops and motioned for me to get out. He’d been quiet on the journey in.

“Things have changed in the last five or six years,” he said. “More so in the last year or so. Great changes have been made around this town, thanks to a couple of wonderful people. If you thought this town was an unusual Mecca for gay men when you left…well, it only gets better as they say.”

I let my gaze drift across the familiar shops.

There was still a charity shop, grocer, butcher and refreshed looking cafe.

But there was also a craft supply shop, florist and something called The Nerd Emporium.

The entire row looked much more full of life and there was the movement of people in every window.

He led me to the place that used to be his cafe, now signposted as Hiraeth Community Cafe and led me in. It was busy inside with the breakfast rush and there was an unfamiliar face behind the counter, busy preparing coffee. He was a thin man in a cable-knit teal jumper and shirt.

“Hi James,” said my uncle. “This is my nephew, Hywel.”

“The man who almost took this place from under me!” James grinned at me.

I had a vague memory of sending someone to look at acquiring the place from my uncle but when he’d let me know he found a local buyer the whole thing had slipped my mind.

James had no trace of a Welsh accent though. “What is it you’ll be having?”

“Americano please. Black, no sugar,” I said.

“A man after my own heart. Prentis, I’ve got your usual.

Find a table and I’ll be right over.” James busied himself preparing coffee, and I went with my uncle to a table in the window.

I looked around. The place had received a much-needed update.

It still looked homely, but modern and chic.

The coffee shelves seemed to be made of old timber and railway sleepers and there was driftwood stuck to the front of the counter.

All the chairs were vintage and mismatched and it seemed Uncle Prentis had picked this table because of its big squishy armchairs.

I glanced at a couple of faces as I perused the decor.

Most were familiar, just a little more lined than when I’d last seen them. There were a few new ones too, though.

“Seems the town has had a bit of a revival,” I said.

“It has. Still happening, though I’m sure you’ll see that with time.” Prentis looked around rather dramatically. “There’s a lot more going on than last time I saw you. How long has it been…four, five years?”

“Five years, six months,” I said.

“Ah. Exactly that. I hadn’t realised you hadn’t been back since…”

“The funeral, yes.”

There was silence for a couple of seconds. “How are you keeping, anyway? And what brings you home after so long?” he asked.

“Good, I’m…good. Well. Not good. Not great. Bad. Terrible.” I looked up as James approached with coffee and thanked him. I fished around for my debit card but by the time I’d found it in a jacket pocket he was gone.

“We don’t pay here, son,” said Uncle Prentis. “Why don’t you start from the beginning and tell me what’s going on?”

So I did. I told him about my relationship with Brian, the big business investment, my fall from grace.

“Doesn’t explain what brings you here though does it?” said Prentis.

“If I say you have to keep it quiet,” I said.

“I was a gay man in a relationship in west Wales in the 1970s. I think I know how to keep a secret, Hywel.”

“All I have left is in this town. Brian has all my cash and our business assets were joint. I own some property in Hiraeth and I’m hoping if I can flip it I’ll be able to start again.

I can start small, invest in some safer bets and the general stock market, maybe do some freelance business consulting. But right now I can’t do any of that.”

“Remember the human cost, son.” Prentis’ voice was firm.

“Yes, Uncle Prentis. I have plans to visit each property and do an assessment of value and income. That’s why I want to keep it quiet for now, so I can talk with all the businesses individually and talk through what might happen.”

“Good lad. What is it you own in the town?”

“The butcher and the florist, I think I own that nerdy shop, and the garage.”

“You think? Hardly the world’s most attentive landlord, are you?”

“I bought them to stop them ending up in outside corporate hands, then handed management over to an agency. I didn’t want anyone I knew from Hiraeth feeling uncomfortable with the fact I held something over them.”

“I see.” Prentis looked at me over clasped hands. “So, you’ll be looking for somewhere to stay will you?”

“I was hoping I could stay in my old room,” I said.

Prentis shook his head. “Beca has been staying with me whilst Llywelyn makes some big changes to her house. She’s not moving as well as she was, see…”

“Oh, OK. I’ll see if Tudor has space up at the hotel.” I worried about my ability to pay, but knowing how quiet he always was I could probably get a special rate if I was staying for the next few weeks.

“You really haven’t been keeping up with the town you used to live in, have you? Things are changing around here.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, but Prentis just shrugged.

“I’ll show you,” he said. He finished the dregs of his coffee and gave a cheery little wave to James as he stood up.

I quickly finished my coffee and followed him out.

It was astounding how quickly he could move for a man of his age.

I had to jog across the street to catch up as he got into the car and turned on the engine.

Despite the sun it really was a bitterly cold day.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I asked as he pulled out into the street without indicating.

“Nope,” he replied. “If you’ve not bothered to keep tabs on your own investments, then you’re not half the businessman I thought you were.”

He took a sharp turn up the old gravel track that ran up to the Gwesty Maes Gwyn , the old and run-down hotel run by Tudor and his mother Claire.

But that wasn’t what I saw. The hotel looked entirely different. It had been repainted, for a start and the old sagging porch had been repointed and levelled.

“Wow.” I got out of the car to have a closer look.

The double doors at the entrance had been polished to a shine and the whole frontage of the hotel had been cobbled.

There were a few other cars parked out front.

Finally, I noted the name change above the doors.

My Welsh was rusty after years without use, but I knew what Cartref meant. Home .

“I’ll just wait here for you. I can’t see you being long!” Prentis gave a cheery wave out of the car window before winding it back up.

I shivered in the frosty December air and stepped up to the porch. The door swung open without a creak and I walked beyond it into the reassuring warmth of the hotel.

I could remember the old mahogany panelled lobby area from years ago when as a kid I used to run in and hide upstairs until Clare found me and kicked me out, or on one of the few occasions a couple of years later when I’d hooked up with Tudor in his room.

The place looked different now though. Not as dark and depressing, lit tastefully with new lamps and an LED strip under the reception desk. There was no one around so I pressed the buzzer. Uncle Prentis couldn’t be so sure there’d be no space here.

“Coming!” shouted a voice from the staff accommodation corridor.

I looked up and to my surprise it wasn’t Tudor but a vaguely familiar face I couldn’t place at first. “Hi, can I help you?” he was a handsome man with a pearly white grin made even more apparent by the fact his skin looked far too tanned for December.

And then the penny dropped. “Aren’t you…?” I started. If I wasn’t hallucinating it seemed I was talking to Daniel Ellison; star of stage, screen and every adolescent fantasy of mine.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone,” he winked. “Just kidding. I’m Daniel. Danny. Tudor’s just training up some new staff in the dining room and we weren’t expecting guests until later in the day. How can I help?”

“I’d like to book a room, please. For the next couple of weeks at least.” I was star-struck being served by Hollywood royalty and I looked around the room to see if there were hidden cameras. Was this some kind of Undercover Celebrity show?