CHAPTER 90
We had to wind down in the end, and separate, with fierce hugs and promises to be home more often, and that word suddenly rang true to me. Home had become a simple concept: wherever I was with Eric, that was my home. Our house in Surrey, a tent at Shrewsbury, they were all I had believed I needed.

That day in Swansea showed me that I had been right when I sought the consent of my family to my marriage, and that there were deeper roots, deeper needs. Aunty Esther was as sweet as ever as we parted, but it was the men that astonished me, Uncle Tom in particular. I was given hugs, kisses on the cheek, and made to promise that I would never, ever discard the blessing that God had laid upon me in my music.

I had to fight an impulse to giggle at the thought of me strutting across the front of the Bethesda chapel in that LBD, black stockings and heels, a darker-hued Scarlet Woman, the Harlot of Horley, but I held it in. My life had suddenly expanded beyond anything I had realistically hoped for, and I couldn’t risk it.

Twm was on his phone as we drove back, talking to Elaine, but I could only catch random words as he spoke in his own language. It was all smiles and ready laughter, though, and among the words I caught were “ffliwt”, “caneuon” and “Calon Lan”

Arwel dropped us at the hotel in Carmarthen, the Woodruffs pulling in behind us, and I am not ashamed to say---I am delighted at the memory---that as soon as the door shut on our room I attacked Eric with all the carnality I could ever have hoped for. We did manage to make it to the bed, in the end, and I lay on his chest amid the wreckage of the bedclothes more contented, more hopeful, than I could ever remember feeling in my entire life. I was starting to doze, wrapped in his smell, when he tickled one of my breasts, which sort of engaged my attention, but before I could slip my hand back down he took it in his.

“We have a call to make, love. I meant to do it when we got in, but I got a bit distracted when you dropped to your knees and dragged my trousers down”

I perched on one elbow and fluttered my eyelashes at him. I was learning…

“Was that a complaint, Johnson?”

“Only in that it would have been nice to have something to hang onto before my legs gave way! No, we need to give Ginny and Kate a ring, and Darren, let them know how it went”

And people wondered why I loved him. The girls were ecstatic, and as Kate pressed for details, I could hear Ginny singing nonsense words about her girly in the background. We gave the usual promises about dinner, and then I dialled Naomi.

“Woods residence”

“Hiya, Naomi, it’s Annie”

“My darling girl! How did it go? From your tone, successfully?”

“Two out of eight walked out, Naomi, but the others…”

The tears were suddenly back, and I stammered an explanation of Jessica’s return and Arwel’s cleverness, until Eric took the phone from me and drew me to him as he spoke. He held my head to his so I could hear both sides.

“They are wonderful people, Naomi, once you get past a few little prejudices. At some point, we will indeed go to the chapel, but for now Annie has her family back, and as far as we are concerned that is what they call a result. Now, we were wondering about Darren”

“He is in the next room, with Albert, slaughtering some batrachian horror or other. I shall call him in for you”

There was a fumbling, and the faint sound of Naomi’s call, and then Darren was on the line.

“Annie!”

“No, Eric, Annie’s listening. How’s our main man Eyres?”

“Cookin’ on gas, yeah. Granddad’s runnin’ outa high scores”

“Leave him a few, Darren, s’only fair! Anything happen while we were away?”

“We had dinner wiv Mr an’ Mizz Armitage”

“And Shan”

“Yeah…”

Is it possible to feel a blush across a microwave telephone link? It seems it was. Eric continued to probe, but more gently.

“Shan OK?”

“She still nervous, lahk, still staying close to people”

“Well, look. When we get back, in a couple of days, shall we see if we can organise a meal at our place? Or just have a silly evening with pizza and videos? That do?”

“Be good, yeah! “

I could just hear Albert’s voice, and Darren quickly made an excuse and handed the phone back to Naomi. She sighed.

“I do not know which of them is worse, honestly!”

“Would you be without either?”

If blushes can be transmitted, so can smiles.

“Not at all, Eric, and you know that!”

“We should all be back in a couple of days. A few days to catch up on work, and then we shall see if we can’t sort out an evening for Darren and his girlfriend”

She lowered her voice. “He does seem very fond of her, and she clings to him rather a lot when they are together”

“What does Polly say?”

“She is being very, very careful to make sure that young shoots are not left to flourish untended”

“Good. Would you and Albert be up for pizza and DVDs?”

“Would the entertainment involve zombies?”

“Most probably”

“Then Albert most definitely. I can manage to weather it, I am sure. Come by for tea as soon as you are home, yes?”

We said our goodbyes, and Eric started to laugh as he hung up.

“As soon as we are home. Dear god, could they cope with that?”

In the end, sleep wasn’t a preferred option for most of the night. I have to explain, here; there were limits to our ability to show affection, that is something I have no need to put into details, but what there was between us, or what came from him to me, was love. He touched me, he held me, he did certain things to my chest, my neck and ears, and he could have ordered me to vote Tory and I would have agreed. What I could and did do for him seemed to be very well-received, which is a compliment a gentleman can never fake, and above all of the physical detail soared the simple, glorious fact of our intimacy. Eric was mine, I was his, we were ours, and the world was a place outside. Despite my deformity, I had stopped my habit of wearing knickers to bed or in the shower, and while his eyes pointedly avoided that…bit, as they were mostly on mine I didn’t worry. I couldn’t remember ever caring for anyone as deeply except for my mother, and that was so different the words failed me.

Eric had become my focus, my centre. I even liked going to sleep, because it meant I would wake next to him, and that old trick of sleeping with his shirt had absolutely nothing to compare with being able to smell and feel the pure, draft Eric, to have him on tap.

Talking of taps…no, we didn’t get that much sleep.

Two days later, after I had shown him around some of my old haunts, we were back in our new home, beginning the ritual of stowing the garage-bought fresh milk and brewing tea in our own pot. There was also the small matter of actually working for a living. I dressed the next morning in the locker room at work, and it struck me how much my rituals had changed. What I wore was no longer something to try and express who I was, but ordinary clothing. A bra was a necessity, now, and I thought back with a smile to that day I had walked through Crawley in a dress to see Dennis and Kirsty, a day I had nearly wet myself with fear.

Dennis was on with me that day, and there was a smile as I came into Custody.

“How was it, then? Any grief?”

“Two of them walked out, Den”

“Ah, shite!”

“Six of them stayed, and want to sing at our wedding”

I still fancied Den, in an academic way, of course, and when he hugged me it was very nice. Think of what Kirsty would do, Annie…Den was still smiling.

“We have some news of our own, like. Set a date. If she’s still with us in June next year, then she’s mine permanently”

“Unless she changes her mind, aye?”

There was a little flicker there, and I regretted my joke immediately.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Den. Are we still invited?”

The grin was back. “Aye, of course. The trouble is, you come with so many bloody friends, and I can’t leave any of them out, can I?”

“Why not? It should be an occasion for your friends, not ours, yours and Kirsty’s”

He tilted his head a little to one side. “Annie, you don’t understand, do you? All that shit I had at home, all that corruption, I was left with no friends at all. Your friends ARE my friends. I want them there, and so does she. Now, how do you fancy being a bridesmaid?”