CHAPTER 89
Arwel was steering the male conversation around to the relative merits of bass and tenor balance in male voice choirs, and I half expected him to give a demonstration, but that would have been frivolity. Man’s voice was made for giving praise to the Arglwydd.

Leah and her sister were far more direct.

“You were texting that man just then?”

“I was texting my fiancé Eric, if that is what you mean”

“What is he like?”

Steph snorted. “Chapel girls, so much more subtle than South London shrinks! Leah, Eric is out with my husband cycling, so I will give you a quick description. He is of medium size, very, very fit, incredibly caring, and deeply in love with Annie. If I wasn’t spoken for, well….”

I gave her a Paddington. “That’s the first time you have admitted to coveting my man, Woodruff! Look, but don’t touch, aye?”

“No, love, you can do all the touching. I assume that was what the text was about”

I blushed hard, and Vanny giggled. “How could we have missed what she was? Annie, there is no man in you, is there?”

Steph was still pushing. “There may be later…if she’s lucky”

“Stephanie Woodruff, these are chaste chapel girls!”

Aunt Esther murmured “Chaste, aye, but I trust not yet caught”

On cue, all of us girls went “Boom boom!” and the mood was utterly different to the darkness Arwel had steered us through. Leah was insistent, though.

“Tell us about him, Annie. How did you meet?”

“We have known each other years, actually. I was in a bad way, and another friend stepped in and brought me back from the edge I was about to step over. Eric helped out, and we sort of clicked.”

There was another snort from Steph. “From what I heard, it was her lusting after some other man that brought it on. Let her realise what she really was, inside, and Eric had the soul to see that, to see her, and he had the heart to take her in. He is a special man”

Vanny asked, softly, “Can we meet him?”

I thought about that, but not for long. The whole point of the meeting was to prepare my family for a wedding, and that would mean meeting him at some point. Why not now? Steph winked at me.

“He is on his way as we speak”

What? She showed me her phone, the last text on it reading “Get here as soon as. No danger. Tell Eric not to be naked”

“I read yours over your shoulder, love. Goes with the job”

Half an hour later, two fit men were standing in the archway. As the girls tried to work out which was which, Geoff gave his wife a proper snog and squeezed into one of the spare seats, and all eyes turned to Eric, who looked a little uncomfortable.

“Yes, I’m English, but nobody’s perfect”

He shook hands round the room, Tom and John giving him hard and appraising stares that I supposed were attempts to spot any gayness in him, perhaps a little too much sensitivity to colours, or hidden skills in flower-arranging. He gave the stares back.

“So, what did you expect? I am just an ordinary bloke, who likes rugby and bikes and beer”

Steph murmured “…and banjos…”

Uncle Tom picked that one up.

“You are a musician?”

“Not according to this lot. I play banjo, and guitar, and these three all play their own instruments”

My aunt asked “So, you continued with that flute, Annie?”

There was a triple nod from around me, and Arwel said his piece.

“Those two girls are wonderful musicians, fiddle and flute, aye? My Sarah had young Stephanie play at her wedding. Not always to my tastes, aye, but there is true talent there. God has gifted them both, and the boys aren’t bad”

Eric was nodding. “My lovely girl here is a genius, especially when she keeps both feet on the ground”

That was when he passed me Saburo’s box. Steph smiled.

“A present to Annie from my niece, that was. Annie?”

I took him out and assembled him, testing his tuning with a couple of quick scales. I looked up, and my family were there, in focus, locked on me. Not the time for Tull; ‘Calon Lan’ was the tune for there and then, and after the first couple of lines Arwel started to sing, in Welsh of course. Twm joined him, the two deep voices almost making the table shake, and then Uncle Tom and John, the latter’s tenor lifting my heart, and the girls, all except Steph, as our two boys sat and smiled. I switched to ‘Guide Me…’, and there was harmony, and passion, and deep belief in the words that came out, Arwel lowering himself to sing the foreign language, and of course we had to do a couple more, and it wasn’t till we finished that the applause came from the other customers.

Arwel chuckled. “Don’t think this place is licensed for music, aye?”

John smiled. “Annie, you will be at Bethesda one day, there with your family, and you will give music to praise Our Lord, for He has blessed you there. I bow my head in shame at how I spoke to you, and hope you can forgive me, forgive us all. If I may ask…can we sing at your wedding?”

There was no choice in the matter, I just had to start crying, as Uncle Tom nodded his agreement. Arwel was looking like a well-creamed tomcat.

“Aye, and what about us? Do we get the invitations as well? The old trout likes a good wedding”

I wiped my eyes. “Arwel Powell, you do ask some stupid questions!”

I went round to him, leaving my Eric, and cuddled a man who held more depths to him than he ever let on. That was when I realised what Alice saw in him, and, more importantly, what he was, the man who could see Alice as she needed to be.

“Don’t be making your man jealous, aye?”

The ice was well and truly broken, not just the usual awkwardness of first meetings but the deep freeze that had welcomed my entry into our little space in the café. I sat back for a while, as Eric and Geoff debated great tries with John, and the girls rattled on about wedding styles with Steph, who I gathered had gone ultra girly for hers. Aunty Esther was watching me.

“You don’t, you know”

“Don’t what?”

“Look like your Mam. There are similarities, but you are far more like my Miriam than her.”

“But Merry is so slim…”

“Emaciated, yes? And you are like a pregnant whale, aye?”

I spotted the twinkle just in time. “I was nearly twenty stone when Ginny stepped in”

“This is your friend who saved you from yourself? I would like to meet her, to thank her”

“She can be a bit…loud, Aunty”

“Profane as well, no doubt.”

Fuck, yeah. “Yes, just a bit”

“I have a little something for you, Annie. I may be foolish, I may be soft, I am of course sinful, but I could not let this happen”

She passed me a carrier bag. I opened the top, and saw a shock of yellow thread.

“But he burned her!”

“No, Annie, he burned an old doll of mine that I slipped into the bin bag in her place. I have kept her all this time, I have never understood why. I just saw that she was important to you, and the reason is now very clear”

Jessica had faded, but she was all there, unharmed except for a small rip where Dad had grabbed her from me, and that had been sewn up neatly. If I had not known every inch of her, I would have missed it. I hugged her to my breast.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“Ah, Annie my dear, I suspected all sorts of things. I knew what Gareth thought, and Esme was not one to go against her husband, but you were never right as a policeman”

“Aunty E, I was never right as a man full stop, aye? What did you think, really?”

“I think…I think, I suspected you would take that direction in life you wanted, the nursing, and become a nancy boy, find some other homosexual to couple with”

“Aunty, I am not homosexual, that is the whole point”

She smiled again as I cuddled Jessica. “That I know now, but back then I had no knowledge that there were such things as you in the world. No, that is cruel: such people as you. I am like Saul, making my way to Damascus, my eyes shut against the truth.”

She laughed, a little ruefully. “And now I sin in my pride, comparing myself to the Saints”

I hugged her with a free arm, as Merry smiled across at me. “Here’s my deal, Aunty E. You don’t pretend you are less than the wonderful and loving woman you are, and I won’t complain about the size of my arse---oops!”