Page 6

Daniel’s face dropped. “Ah. I’d thought you already had a room booked.

Otherwise, we’re all out of space.” He pointed at a small poster behind him I hadn’t noticed.

“It’s BloodCon week and Tudor had the bright idea of hosting it here.

A chance for the fans to meet the author of the Thrones of Blood books and mingle with the stars of the upcoming series.

Unfortunately, it means we’re all booked up for now.

And then the Christmas bookings have us rushed off our feet right through to the big day. ”

“Oh. Great. Thanks.” I grimaced.

“I really am sorry. The nearest hotel otherwise is…” Daniel consulted a map. “Aberystwyth. Easy enough drive but no train connection, if you’re determined to see Hiraeth.”

“I really must know…why are you even here?” I asked.

“Long story.” Daniel grinned at me again. “But short answer, I fell in love. And a certain Welsh hotel owner was very good at convincing me to stay.”

A door to the right swung open to reveal a familiar face. “I’m pretty sure you begged me to take you back to Wales,” said Tudor with a smile. It wasn’t quite as dazzling as Daniel’s but it was equally genuine and warm. “Long time no see,” he said to me with something like accusation in his eyes.

“Yeah. Been a while.” I didn’t know what to say. Had I really come back so naively not expecting to see so many ghosts of my past? I might have left Hiraeth long ago but so many had stayed.

“Sorry to tell you but we’ve no room at the inn. BloodCon is going to have us crazy busy this week.”

“Well, thanks anyway. Catch up soon, yeah?” I said. Tudor nodded. He wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but I’d done my best to leave him and most of this town behind years ago. It was going to be difficult if I wanted any friends for the remainder of my stay.

Prentis was waiting outside in the car. I thought I heard him listening to Nelly Furtado through the windows of the car but when he saw me he reached forward to change over to Radio 4.

“Do you see now?” he asked.

“See what?”

“That this town still has life in it yet. That there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

” Prentis pulled out of his space and drove back down the hill slowly.

From so far up in the winter sunlight I could see how busy the place was.

The high street bustled with activity. There were families playing on the beach, dogs chasing frisbees.

“I was never ashamed of this place,” I said. An uncomfortable feeling twisted in my gut. I’d tried so hard in my early Uni years to stamp out my Welsh country accent.

“Well, it’s getting along just fine right now. It’s good to have you back, but don’t think the Parish Council won’t have something to say once they find out you might sell up to bigger companies.”

I groaned. “They’re still around? Surely almost all the old crew are dead now.”

Prentis took one hand off the wheel and slapped the side of my head. “They’re all my age, thank you very much.”

“Is there anything I can do to get them on side?” I asked.

“Get a meeting with Alun and Alaw. They have big plans for this place and they’ve got the backing of the Parish Council.”

“Thanks, Uncle Prentis.”

Prentis drove the car back into the high street and slowed down. “Where would you like to go now?” he asked.

I thought for a second. If I couldn’t stay with him and there were no cheaply available spaces at the hotel…then I really didn’t know. “Drop me off at the garage,” I said. “I’ll get my stuff from there and commute from Aberystwyth when I need to.”

He didn’t need to know that I’d fallen so far that I couldn’t even afford that. There was only one way that I could make this work and the thought didn’t fill me with joy. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Prentis drove the rest of the way in silence.

I wondered if he was proud of me. He and Uncle Llywelyn had said so when I passed my GCSEs after Mum died.

They’d been ecstatic when I passed my A Levels and got into my university of choice.

I hadn’t heard it much since, even when I got them fancy hotels to come and see me in London in the early days of my career.

The garage came into view. I could describe it as ugly but really it was quaint, with its squat red brick construction and corrugated metal roof. Macsen was out front in his navy overalls polishing off what looked like a very old and expensive bike.

“Thanks Uncle Prentis,” I said as I got out of the car. I patted down my pockets to make sure that I had my phone and wallet.

“No worries, son. You sure you don’t want a lift to Aberystwyth now?”

“No, I’m all good.” I gave my best attempt at a reassuring smile.

“Are you staying for Christmas? I might not have a bedroom, but you know there’s always a space at the table.”

I hesitated. “…sure. I’ll be there.” Uncle Prentis gave me his widest smile before winding the window back up and peeling out of the yard and back towards Hiraeth.

Macsen gave me a long look before going back to polishing off the bike. It was a similar burgundy sheen to my car, with a big headlamp and handlebars that had a soft aluminium glow about them.

“What’s that?” I asked, trying my best to strike up a halfway decent conversation before I hit him with my request.

“It’s a bike,” he replied. I said nothing in response though I really wanted to bite.

I just waited a minute. Finally, with a sigh, he relented.

“It’s a 1936 Harley Davidson EL. It’s very rare and precious, and the owner will be coming to pick it up within the next twenty minutes so I really want it to look good. ”

“Can I help in any way?” I asked.

He snorted. “No way. You’ll just make it worse.

” I took a step back from him so I could perch myself on one wall of tyres surrounding the yard.

He was such a gruff man with a permanent scowl that it was interesting to watch him buff the paint on the bike.

As he worked his scowl became less pronounced and his eyes glazed over.

It was like he had forgotten I was there and dropped his performance.

Or maybe he was always so moody and fixing up the bike was just a temporary reprieve.

“How much rent are you paying for this place?” I asked.

The scowl returned to Macsen’s face as he looked back up at me. “Too much.”

“Who’s the landlord?”

“Dunno. Some agency. Alun handles all that right now. This place isn’t officially mine yet.” Macsen took a step back from the bike as if appraising his own work.

“You really love your line of work, don’t you?” I asked.

Macsen’s scowl softened slightly, and he hesitated before replying. “Yeah. I really do. Does this look alright to you?”

“Looks like a bike,” I joked. The scowl returned. “Honestly, it looks great. I just wouldn’t know the difference between a Harley Davidson and a kid’s electric scooter.”

“This one’s a beauty,” Macsen said. I could see his enthusiasm build as he forgot his scowl again.

“She wasn’t as revolutionary as the 1932 model but she’s refined.

Increased performance, engine longevity…

it’s no wonder she’s survived almost ninety years with a little bit of TLC.

I’ve done a full service on her today, replaced the oil, fixed the… ”

He was interrupted by the sound of an engine and tyres on gravel.

A big black Land Rover pulled into the yard with a bike rack on the back of it.

An older man got out in a suit not unlike the one I was wearing and wolf whistled when he saw the bike.

Macsen helped him lift it on to the rack and secure it.

“Once again young man, you’ve outdone yourself. She looks wonderful,” the man said.

“Anytime.” Macsen was smiling at the man.

“And what’ll it be today?” The man pulled out his wallet and started sheafing through notes. I had no idea people even still paid with cash.

“A hundred for the service, the cleaning is on the house.” Macsen held his hand out for the money and took it.

The man got back in the car and left pretty quickly.

Macsen stuffed the money in his pocket before turning to me, returning the scowl to his face.

“What are you doing here anyway?” he asked.

“I thought you were staying with Prentis?”

“Well…” I shrugged. “No room at the inn. Any inn, in fact.”

“And that’s my problem how?” Macsen walked over to the garage door and pressed the button to close it.

I waited til the noisy shutters had finished closing before I answered him. “Thing is, I need a place to stay.”

“Well I’m not running an AirBnB,” he replied. Without waiting for an answer he opened the door to the flat and walked through. Once again I found myself running to catch up with him. I followed him up the stairs into the accommodation.

“I was just wondering if I could stay here. On your sofa. Just until there’s a place for me to stay.”

“No. No way.” Macsen looked right through me. “This is my space. I’m not having you come in here and intrude on my privacy. I’m quite happy by myself.”

“I can make it worth your while,” I said. Macsen had taken a beer from the fridge without offering me one and slumped on the sofa in his overalls.

“What kind of porno plot is that? ‘I can make it worth your while’? You think you can get down on your knees and blow me for a place to stay?” Macsen’s lips curled upward into a snarl but as he took a big swig of the beer I was trying to stop myself imagining the scenario he had just described.

I shook myself. I wasn’t sure if I was more horny or pissed off.

They weren’t often emotions I felt in tandem with one another.

Well, until I’d caught Brian. “No. Gross. I’m your landlord, idiot.

I will trade you letting me stay here for one month’s rent.

And as long as you take to fix my car, I’ll take that much extra rent off the bill too. Does that sound like a deal?”

“You’re my landlord?” Macsen’s expression darkened.

“Explains why the rates are so fucking sky high. But if you want to pay me that much money to sleep on my sofa, be my fucking guest. But don’t think I’ll be pussyfooting around you.

This is my home. If I want to bring someone back for the night, you’re going to have to lay there on the sofa and listen.

If I want friends round, you can make yourself scarce.

If you want a beer, then you can buy your own fucking beer. ”

“Good. That’s fine. Settled then.” I didn’t really have much of a choice.

I could tell Macsen hadn’t thought I’d take him up on the offer. “Fine, good,” he said. Although it can’t have been any later than 4pm, he got up from the sofa and headed towards his bedroom with beer bottle in hand. “Goodnight.”

The door slammed behind him, and that was that.

I stripped down and got my pyjamas on, then plugged in my laptop to get to work.

The sooner I could appraise and sell my property portfolio and he could get my car fixed, the better.

Because the sooner I could stop living like a student and get back to London, the better.