Broken Wings 65

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CHAPTER 65
The next few days blessed us with amazing weather, and we ticked several of my boxes including the traverse of the Glyders and down to the campsite, starting from Pen y Pass, by way of Cwmffynnon. I drove everyone round to the car park in the minibus, Alun driving me back afterwards to collect the larger vehicle. Pat had offered, but I wanted to allow Alicia’s father a chance for a chat, as I suspected he wanted one. We set off from the tents after a cup of tea and a change into softer footwear, and he spoke steadily as he drove.

“Important few days, this. Eyes opening steadily, they are, so I am not going to pretend I am Superdad. Really feeling stupid, I am, so just saying thank you”

I was about to chip in, but he was still speaking.

“Said a few things already, and I am surprising myself, because I had a son, and I loved him, and… you’ve heard all this before, haven’t you?”

“To tell the truth, Alun, no I haven’t. I have heard the opposite, more than once, and… and once, just once, I ended up with a badly bruised face when a loving father decided it was a good idea to punch me in it”

“Oh. What happened to him?”

“He is no longer a problem”

“What the fuck? Sorry!”

I ended up laughing at his shock.

“No, not like that! He left the area, moved away. As far as I am aware, he is still breathing. And bruises fade”

The visible ones do, at least.

“So what is she looking to do, Debbie? Stay with you? And yes, it works better calling her that. Makes more sense now”

“Her plans? College first, I suspect, but she wants her family back”

“She has that, or at least me and my parents. She’s got a place in Cardiff, she tells me. Bit of a trek from home”

“What are you saying, Alun?”

We had reached the little parade of shops in Capel Curig, where he pulled over, turning in his seat to look me in the eye.

“Been thinking about that, and it was your two girls with the ropes that showed me what’s what. Just like any other girls, aren’t they?”

“That is sort of the point, Alun”

“Aye. If I had had a son, he would have already gone off to university last September, and he would be there on his own. Those two, they went together. Alicia has been at school with those others she lives with, am I right?”

“Those other girls, yes”

“Yes. So as she is going to Cardiff, she is on an edge, a cusp, aye? Too far away to live at home, but close enough. If she has any trouble for being, you know, then she needs somewhere close by”

“What are you asking, Alun?”

He took a deep breath, letting it sigh out slowly.

“As long as I know I have her back, I can cope with not having her at home, if that makes sense. Can you, do you have space, if she wants to stay with you? I could always pay something towards her keep”

I couldn’t help it, so he received a hug and a peck on the cheek.

“What’s that for?”

“Being the sort of Dad a girl needs!”

He grinned.

“Still learning, though. Now, fancy an ice cream?”

“Eh?”

“I want to ask a question in the shop, and shopkeepers generally react better to paying customers”

“Go on, then. If they have one of those cider lollies, it would be good”

“Will do. Back in a couple of minutes”

The requested treat came back with him, and once we had finished, we continued round to the Pen y Pass car park and collected the buss, Alun looking smug throughout. I didn’t press matters, as I was worried he was still a little fragile, as well as concerned that my little gush of appreciation might have been over the top.

I found out what he had been up to on the Friday, as we were sorting the group out ready to head off for the music night. I was settling into the driver’s seat in the bus, about to do the basic checks, when Alun tapped on the window.

“Put the keys away, Debbie. Alternative arrangements have been made”

He pointed out to the main road, where a couple of minibus taxis had just parked up.

“Got the number in the shop in Capel, with the lollies. Girls tell me you like a pint. They’ll drop us off later as well”

“How much is this costing you, Alun?”

He grinned, and it was a far happier and more confidant one than I had yet seen on his face.

“Don’t care! Grab whatever you need, and we’re off”

It was a guest night at the pub, with a little fiddle player in a flat cap and weird accent as the guest, and I got the usual comment from the landlord about girl farming and taking out a time share lease on a couple of tables. Pat stayed happy, Alun even more so, and I realised he had finally crested his own hill of worries about his daughter. The only time I saw him twitch was when she got up from her seat next to him and went directly to the ladies’ toilet, but as I watched, he simply shook his head before smiling again and turning back to the music. His floor spot was in the second half of the session, and it seemed to go down very well. At one point, he looked out at the crowd, asking if there were any Pulp fans in. After a few people cheered, he grinned.

“Well, this is sort of a song for my daughter, who’s sitting over there in the orange T-shirt, but the song’s title is the name of another friend, over there in the Triton one. Thanks for having me on, and this one is called ‘Deborah’. Join in if you know it”

It wasn’t really my sort of song, but lots of people seemed to know it, and in the end, Alun stood up, waved his guitar, and said “Thank you, good night and I haven’t been Jarvis Cocker”

When I went to grab some drinks, Alun joined me at the bar, looking a little embarrassed.

“Hope that wasn’t too cheeky, Debbie”

Owen had clearly heard, because he leant over the bar towards Alun.

“Dunno about Debbie here, son, but if you’re up again, I’ll save you a floor spot. Always like a little variety on these nights”

The rest of the night was just as good, the taxis/buses were on time and two days later Alun left us to our holiday, saying good bye to Alicia in a very different way to that first time I had witnessed, with laughter rather than tears. The tears came from her, after he had gone, crumpled against my chest and asking why Serena’s father couldn’t have been more like hers. I had been asking that question all week.

Our second week saw a slight break in the good weather, but nothing nasty. We did more box-ticking, and I was amused to find a hierarchy showing up among the girls, as those who had already enjoyed the local delights took time out to explain them to Maria, and that girl was quite plaintive in the end, as the memory card in her little camera was full. I managed to tease her one morning about making space on it.

“You could delete some of those pictures of naked men”

“Why would I have pictures of naked men?”

“Fair point. Or you could use one of the spare cards I just happened to bring with me!”

Pat was listening, and chuckling, and as Maria walked off with the little piece of plastic, Pat was getting her own camera out.

“People ask me why I take so many pictures of the same mountain, Debbie. You can guess my answer”

“That it’s never the same mountain?”

“Yup. Now, would you like a picture of all of you? Sun’s at the right angle to get the big lump into it”

Another photo for the stairs, of myself in the middle of all of my girls, and just before the student quartet went off to do some silliness, or other, I insisted Pat got a picture of herself surrounded by all of us. Those had been our words, our agreement, that if there were bad memories to fear, they lost their power when over-written by better ones.

Not just for Pat, as I had never had a better Summer since I had lost my parents.

Back home, then, and into the routine of studies for the girls and work for me. Alun never came to the House, but Ruth’s place became a regular haunt of his when he had the time, and Alicia started to bloom in amazing ways as Dr Thomas did his own bit for her body and her family lifted her up. Bert had been so right.

Such a gift.

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Winter view

If anyone wants to see what the valley looks like in snow, the next campsite up the road is Gwern Gof Isaf. On Google maps, there is one of those little blue dots that indicate a 360 degree panorama photo for Streetview, which delivers a scene of Tryfan, Foel Goch and Braich y Ddeugwm under snow,

The same all over...

Andrea Lena's picture

Even now. just like Deb, we are graced with some family folks who get it, or are at least willing to learn. And some whose actions evoke tears on their children's behalf because they refuse to even try to love their daughters and sons.

Someone sent me a clip from a video that's being circulated in the US that condemns HR-1 because of all the harm 'transgenders' are doing to this country. When perhaps all we want to do is go to a pub and listen to friends sing Karaoke. Sigh.

Always compelling; not always easy. But a great story. Thanks.

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Doctor Thomas?

I wonder; Brighton perhaps?

bev_1.jpg

That is...

MISTER Thomas, My surgeon.

Such a gift.

fantastic

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The Good Ones

joannebarbarella's picture

I'm talking about memories, and the ones in this chapter will be with them all forever.

In the 1950s who woulda thunk that Brighton would become one of the UK's major centres for transgender surgery?

Good with the bad

Jamie Lee's picture

Too much good or bad can throw a person when one or the other increases in frequencies.

Deb sees success with the girls, so when a tragedy strikes it throws because she isn't prepared for it to happen.

Likewise, if something good happens where bad has been the norm, the person will likely wonder when the shoe will drop.

It's necessary to accept good and bad happen, when they happen. Only when it's accepted both will happen at some point can they keep a reasonable level within themselves.

That doesn't mean sorrow won't be felt with a loss, but it can't be allowed to help a person make a decision at that time.

Others have feelings too.