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Chapter Two

Llywelyn

I couldn’t tell you how many times old Beca Price’s cat got stuck on the roof. What I could tell you is that she should have bought a lock long ago, and the cat should have learned that it was afraid of heights almost as immediately as it got up there the first time, not the umpteenth.

“Come on now, puss. Don’t make this too difficult for Uncle Llywelyn,” I said. “Just come to my arms and I can get you back down.” The ladder wobbled precariously under me as the cat inched slowly closer toward me. “Come on now, just a few inches closer…”

The cat eventually crept close enough over the old thatched roof for me to grab her, and I took her under one arm. She growled angrily at me.

“Well, Tibs, if you wouldn’t get yourself into so many silly situations we wouldn’t have to be angry at each other, now would we.” The ladder was a shaky one at the best of times but shuffling down it with a cat in one hand and using the other to grip on felt even more dangerous.

When we reached the ground, I breathed a sigh of relief and let Tibs go. She immediately ran in through Beca’s back door. I folded my ladders down, leaned them against the van and followed her.

Beca was sat at the dining table, holding Tibs and looking her over for damage or injury. They both looked up at me when I came in; Beca with a smile and Tibs with a typical glare.

“Thank you, cariad, ” she said. “I don’t know what we’d do without you sometimes, do we Tibs?”

“Call the firemen?” I suggested, knowing she would never.

“And have them tell me off? No thank you, you’ll do just fine.” Beca reached into the purse sat on the table and took out a 20 pound note. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“No, no.” I waved the note away as it was offered. Beca stood up and hobbled the couple of steps to me, then stuffed the note in my pocket.

“I will not take no for an answer,” she said. For a woman five feet tall - a good one and a half feet shorter than me - she cut an intimidating figure. I nodded, and resisted the urge to take the note and put it on the kitchen counter.

Beca’s house was one of the oldest in the village - almost as old as mine, with a thatched roof, dark wooden beams and an old gas-fired stove.

A kettle sat on the stove, obviously recently boiled.

“You’ll have a cuppa, love?” she asked. She popped teabags into 3 separate mugs before I could answer.

“Glynis Ifans is coming round soon, and she has some favours she wants to ask you anyway.”

I nodded and took my seat at the old wooden table as Beca fussed around with the mugs.

It wasn’t all that strange for me to be at the beck and call of the old ladies of the village.

As if summoned, Glynis popped her head through the back door.

Beca kept the door unlocked and open even in the cold winter months, always ready to entertain or summon someone for a telling off…

or make me a cuppa after I’d saved her cat or changed a lightbulb again.

Beca plonked three chipped mugs on the table and then hobbled back to grab the biscuit bowl.

“Hiya, love,” said Glynis. “You having a good day?”

“Not the worst start to my Sunday, seeing you lovely ladies,” I smiled.

Glynis giggled and took her seat. She was taller, fitter and more imposing than Beca - but everyone knew that Beca was the matriarch of the town.

There was no question about that. Glynis was like a henchman on the Community Council, and if there was gossip she didn’t know it wasn’t worth knowing.

“I think you were right about Sally Griffiths,” Glynis muttered to Beca. She grabbed a biscuit and dunked it before continuing. “She is showing a bit of a bump, so she’s either pregnant or Glyn the baker has been feeding her.”

“Or both,” said Beca. They both shared significant looks with each other.

They would find out which of those was true.

Sally wasn’t married or seeing anyone seriously, so a pregnancy was always going to make her the subject of gossip.

I prayed for her sake that she was just getting fat, though that would be just as much cause for talk in the little village of Hiraeth.

“Beca says you had a favour to ask of me?” I asked, cutting them off before they could get any bitchier.

“Ah, yes,” said Glynis. “My grandson is visiting from London, he’s coming in on the train later today and I need you to pick him up…that is, if you’re not too busy of course.”

She knew I wasn’t busy, she would have checked with the other elderly ladies of town, the church and the school if I was working for them today. It was a very quiet Monday.

“What’s his name again? Jim? Jack?” Beca asked.

“James, silly.” Glynis said, then turned to me. “You remember James, don’t you?”

I racked my brains - I had vague memories of Glynis’ grandson coming to the village when I was younger - was he a couple of years younger than me?

I was sure that he was. He was a skinny little guy, and his parents had always seemed like they didn’t fit in, much more buttoned up than the rest of the village.

They must have stopped coming after a while, because I couldn’t remember him around in my high school years.

“You won’t have seen them for a while,” Glynis said, confirming what I thought.

“Once they moved properly to London they insisted on me meeting them half-way for Christmas, in Cardiff or Bristol. Been busy the last couple of years though. Even changed their last names to Evans to ‘fit in’.” Glynis looked downtrodden at that, her usually stoic face showing signs of sadness.

“What’s brought him down now then?” I asked.

“Oh, he wouldn’t say. Said he would tell me when he got here, but he should be here until Thursday at least.”

“He’s gay like you, Llyw, isn’t he?” Beca said. I had just taken a gulp, and almost spit out my tea.

“How should I know?” I spluttered, perhaps too indignantly. “I haven’t seen him in twenty years.”

“Yes, he is,” said Glynis. “He grew into quite a handsome man too. Looked awful stressed last I saw him though, I told him he should take a holiday up this way.” She looked smug as she spoke, the air of a grandmother who’s always right.“Nothing like a bit of sun and sea.”

“And a town with more men who fancy men than you can shake a stick at,” muttered Beca under her breath.

I stood up quickly — maybe too quickly. “When was it you wanted me to pick him up, Glynis?” I asked.

“His train will be at Aberystwyth at about 2 in the afternoon, that OK love?”

“Yes, fine.” Aberystwyth was about 10 minutes drive away, so I could fill my day with whatever I wanted until then.

“Oh, and Llywelyn?” Glynis beckoned me closer to her and I took a step forwards. “Thank you.” She stuffed a ten pound note into my pocket before I could complain.

◆◆◆

Hours later I pulled down the mirror in front of me in the van and tried my best to look presentable.

It wasn’t that I was all that worried about how a stranger thought I looked, but…

it couldn’t hurt to make a good first impression.

I straightened the collar of my tartan shirt and pushed my beanie hat upwards.

My beard wasn’t savable at this point. I had left it grow just that little bit too long for a few days and a quick comb right now wouldn’t possibly make it look all that much better.

I checked my phone. The train was 2 minutes late, but that was par for the course.

I had parked up 10 minutes early on the off chance it would be early.

As I put my phone back into my pocket the train pulled into the station.

I hopped out of the van to greet our new visitor.

It was a windy, cloudy day. I pulled my shirt at the front like it would help me warm up.

Only one person got off at the station, and my heart thumped.

I hadn’t expected him to look so lost, or vulnerable.

Or beautiful. He was shorter and thinner than me, and wore a denim jacket and jeans.

He had mousy brown hair and green eyes that sparkled even on this cloudy day.

He looked around himself as if unsure, and when his eyes landed on me he looked almost taken aback.

Or scared? I instinctively wanted to protect him. But that was stupid.

He walked slowly toward me, as if unsure I was who he should be meeting.

“James?” I asked. He smiled hesitantly and nodded.

“I’m Llywelyn. Your Nain asked me to come and get you.” I crossed the distance between us and held out a hand for him to shake. He took it after a moment. His hands were smaller and smoother than mine like they hadn’t ever done much manual labour. I felt a bit inadequate and scruffy immediately.

Now I was closer, I could see the a light shadow along his jawline, along with what looked like yellowing bruises. “What happened?” I asked, and immediately felt stupid. It wasn’t my place to ask.

“You should see the other guy,” James said quietly and with a grim smile. I smiled back tightly, but for some reason felt angry more than anything else. I wanted to find out who had hurt him and hurt them. “Is this your van?” he asked, pointing.

“Um, yes. Do you have luggage with you?”

“No. I don’t have anything with me.” James went straight to the passenger side of the van and climbed in.

I felt embarrassed looking at him in my shoddy work van.

He looked very out of place in the passenger seat.

I jumped in and turned the engine on. It was cold, not yet spring, so I pumped up the heating.

James shivered lightly. After making sure he was belted in I drove from the train station and down the little country lane that would lead back to Hiraeth.

After a minute, James spoke. “I think I remember seeing you here when I was little. My parents weren’t entirely for me socialising with the kids in the village, so we never played. You look the same, though.”

“Not sure I do,” I snorted. “I’m older, hairier and uglier than I was when we last met I’m sure.”