The Might-Have-Been Girl A novel by Bronwen Welsh Copyright 2015

Chapter 20   The Gower Peninsula

I carried a blanket and Reggie carried the picnic hamper as we set out across the golf course, taking care not to get in the path of any flying golf balls. I had no idea where we were going until up ahead I saw some ruined stone walls.

“That's Pennard Castle, built about the twelfth century,”said Reggie.

As we approached the ruins I realised that they were right on the edge of a valley or cwm as it's called in Wales, with a stream meandered through it and cattle grazing on the lush grass.

“That stream's called Pennard Pill and it empties into Three Cliffs Bay. I thought we'd have our lunch here but not too close to the edge! We're well away from the golfers so we should be safe.”

We found a secluded spot with a clearing surrounded by gorse bushes, and I spread the blanket out on the grass and we opened the basket and took out the sandwiches, crisps, cake and a bottle of lemonade and cups that Aunt Jane had provided. There was a cool wind but the sun was shining, and my eyes were continually drawn to the wonderful scenery surrounding us.

When we had eaten our fill, Reggie lay on his back, shutting his eyes against the glare of the sun. I lay beside him, my head propped up on an elbow looking at him and thinking how lucky I was. However, I thought he should be paying me some attention, so I selected a long stalk of grass and tickled his nose. Without opening his eyes, his hand came up to brush away the supposed insect. I waited a minute and then tickled him again. This time he opened his eyes, saw what was happening and reached up to pull me down to him and started to kiss me, which was exactly what I wanted him to do of course.

The kiss became more and more passionate and Reggie was obviously becoming aroused and things might have got very frisky indeed, only just then we heard a curious swishing sound. I looked up and could make out the upper half of a golfer using a golf club as a sort of scythe on the tall grass.

“He's looking for his ball,” I whispered to Reggie.

“He must have really hooked it. We're well away from the fairway,” he responded.

Nevertheless, it showed that we were not in as secluded a spot as we'd supposed. The golfer seemed to give up and walked away from us. Whether he had seen us or not I don't know.

“Never mind, I'll make up for it tonight, that's a promise,” I whispered, and Reggie grinned.

“I'll hold you to that.”

We packed up the picnic basket and I folded the blanket and we made our way back to the car. Driving further west along the coast we stopped off so that Reggie could show me the three cliffs after which the bay is named, and then carried on to the westernmost tip of Gower at Rhossili with its beautiful bay, and the headland known as Worms Head which Reggie explained came from the Viking word 'wurm' meaning 'dragon'.

I glanced at my watch and suggested that we had better head back soon if we were taking Aunt Jane out to dinner.

“I need time to get ready, you know,” I said.

We headed back inland and driving through Fairwood Common saw the famous wild ponies which live on the commons throughout Gower.

“They're very hardy. Do you see what they have to eat? It's mainly brambles, gorse and tough grass,” said Reggie. I was very impressed with his knowledge of Gower.

We arrived back at Aunt Jane's house at five-thirty.

“I'm glad you're back. I've booked a table at Belle View Bistro for seven-thirty,” she said.

“That gives me just enough time to get ready,” I joked to see the look on Reggie's face. He agreed to use another bedroom to get ready, so that I could have full use of the bathroom and our bedroom.

I took my blue satin dress to show Aunt Jane.

“Do you think it's too formal for this evening?” I asked.

“Goodness, no,” she replied. “It will look lovely on you, and I know Reggie has brought along a suit. Now I'll have to find something so that I don't look like the poor relation!”

I was first in the shower and then went to the bedroom where I had laid out my clothes on the bed. Tonight was the night for my black satin lingerie – panties, suspender belt, lacey bra and a full slip with French lace on the bust and hem. Once I had carefully drawn my twenty denier sheer stockings up my legs and clipped them in place, I took a look at myself in the full-length mirror and felt incredibly sexy. Now it was time to do my hair and make-up. While I hadn't been doing it for very long, my sister Emma assured me I was now as good at applying it as any girl who had many years' practice. Finally, I stepped into my satin dress and fastened the zip; and then stepped into my five-inch heels, picked up my clutch bag and felt ready to face the world, but first a spritz of perfume and a twirl before the full-length mirror. I was going to knock Reggie for six, no doubt about it.

When I entered the lounge, Aunt Jane was sitting there in a pale purple silk dress, watching the news on the television.

“Goodness me, you look wonderful my dear. What a pity more girls your age don't take the trouble to dress up like that.”

I blushed and thanked her, complimenting her on her dress too.

“I've had it years,” she replied. “I haven't worn it since....” and her voice trailed off. I could guess what she was nearly going to say.

“Well I think it looks lovely, and the colour suits you really well,” I said to fill the awkward silence.

A few minutes later Reggie came down the stairs. He looked so handsome in his suit that my heart skipped a beat. For a moment I thought 'How can I possibly hope to keep this wonderful man?', but then I dismissed the thought. I knew I was going to enjoy being with him for as long as it lasted.

What can I say about the evening? We took a taxi so that Reggie could have something to drink, although all three of us were very restrained in our alcohol intake. The food was delicious and the service excellent. Aunt Jane was great company and the conversation flowed as if she and I had known each other for years. The only moment I thought I had made a mistake was when she asked when Reggie and I had met and I said 'at school'. Then I suddenly thought she might have known that Reggie when to an all-boys school, so I added 'primary school that is, but we kept in touch after we left there.'

We left the restaurant about eleven o'clock with many compliments to the staff and a generous tip left, promising to return again. Arriving back at the house, Aunt Jane said she was very tired and was going straight to bed, but we could have a coffee if we wanted. After she went upstairs, I looked at Reggie and he looked at me. Coffee? No, that really wasn't on our minds.

Once we entered the bedroom we kissed, a long deep kiss. Then I asked Reggie to unzip my dress. It's a funny thing but men never question why a woman needs help unzipping her dress while she managed to zip it up unaided! As I stepped out of it, Reggie's eyes widened when he saw what I was wearing underneath, and as we kissed again, the effect it was having on him was very obvious, even more so when he carefully lifted the slip over my head to reveal the rest of my lingerie. I helped him get undressed, not because he needed help but because I enjoyed doing it, and he enjoyed me doing it too; and after that – well do I really need to go into details? I'm sure your imagination is well ahead of me! It was the end of a perfect day.

Sometime during the night, I awoke. Moonlight shone through the window and dimly lit the room. I turned to my right and saw Reggie's head on the pillow. He was sound asleep, perhaps not surprisingly, and lying on his left side. I quietly slid out of the bed, shed my black lingerie and stockings and slipped on the pink silk nightie I had bought in anticipation of the weekend. Then I returned to the bed, snuggling up to Reggie in the classic 'spoon' position. He murmured something in his sleep and put his right arm around me. I felt secure and loved and I don't think it was long before I fell asleep again.

When I next opened my eyes it was daylight, in fact eight-thirty according to the small clock on the bedside table. I nudged Reggie.

“Come on sleepy-head, time to get up.”

Reggie grunted, opened his eyes and yawned. “Morning already?”

“Come on, let's not waste the day,” I said.

It was first shower for me and I dressed while Reggie was in the bathroom. I wasn't sure what to wear, but decided on my grey woollen skirt with black opaque tights, a camisole over my bra and a woollen jumper on top. After all, it was still bound to be a cool day. I was wondering how often I should wear skirts. While I preferred them of course, I was only too well aware that many young women my age wore jeans and trousers far more often than they wore skirts, so to be constantly in skirts might actually draw attention to myself. How ironic is that?

When we arrived in the kitchen it was to find Aunt Jane cooking breakfast again and I was pleased to see that laver-bread was again on the menu as I enjoyed the taste of it.

“Did you sleep well?” said Aunt Jane, obviously a standard greeting.

“Fine thank you,” was our joint reply.

“Your train to London leaves at five-thirty doesn't it?”

“That's right. We left it as late as possible, but we both have to work on Monday.,” said Reggie.

“Yes, it's a pity we don't have more time to see Swansea,” I said. “I feel I've just scratched the surface and there is so much more to see.”

“Then you must try to come back for longer next time,” said Aunt Jane. “Actually, there is something on today that you might be interested in. There's a concert by one of the best-known Welsh male voice choirs in a chapel in Morriston just outside Swansea. It starts at two o'clock and finishes at about four o'clock. I just happen to have three tickets. If you'd like to go, there would be time to attend the concert and catch the train.”

“Oh Aunt Jane, that would be awesome!” I exclaimed. “I've always loved hearing recordings of Welsh male choirs, but to hear one live would be amazing.”

After breakfast, we finished our packing and then Reggie backed the Jag out of the garage and we loaded our suitcases in the boot. We set off for Swansea which was only a short drive away, Reggie driving and Aunt Jane acting as navigator. She took us on a brief tour of the city, mentioning that it was very badly bombed during the Second World War, but amazingly the twelfth-century castle in the middle of town survived. We had a look at the Marina with the statue of Dylan Thomas and the theatre named in his honour, and the small display of Mumbles Railway memorabilia. Seeing what had been and was now lost, I couldn't get over the short-sightedness of the bus company in closing it down.

After lunch, we headed to Morriston and the Tabernacle Chapel where the concert was to be held. I've always thought of a chapel as a small building but this one held three thousand seats, every one of which was filled before the choir took their places. The concert began with the Welsh National Anthem, 'Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau' ('Land of My Fathers') Everyone stood and sang, including Aunt Jane, but what I didn't expect was that Reggie seemed to know the words too. There was still more for me to learn about this young man! I was determined to get him to teach me the words before we came back to Wales.

The choir sang a number of songs and hymns, but some of the best-known like 'Myfanwy', Calon lân, Sospan fach etc received the greatest applause. I felt tears run down my cheeks at the purity and simplicity of so many of them and the amazing sound of the voices. The two hours flew by and all too soon it was over, and we returned to the car to drive to the station.

Aunt Jane hugged us both and kissed us on the cheeks as she bade us farewell, and made us promise to return as soon as we could. I knew that the life I had chosen meant it was impossible to promise anything too far in advance. The actor gets no annual leave or holiday pay, and must constantly be looking for the next paid job.

To be continued

I would like to acknowledge the assistance of Louise Anne in proofreading the text and giving me a great deal of useful advice about modern-day Britain to incorporate in the story.