“PIE! Get off my bloody face!”

The bastard dog was sat right on my chin, and even though most of his body was on my chest his smelly rear was just under my nose, tail swishing across my face. Jim’s voice filtered through the black and white fur that blocked my vision.

“Down, Pie! Sorry, Dad”

What felt like half a ton of dog hopped down onto the floor, which left me able to feel the shaking from my right hand side as Sar pissed herself laughing. I rolled her way and attempted to outstare her, but she made those big innocent ‘who me?’ eyes and…I was lost.

I mean, fuck it, how the hell do you snarl at your son, your wife, and your best and only dog? I am indeed too soft for my own good.

“Young man, I hope that tea came up the stairs with the hairy monster?”

Sarah elbowed me, and I managed to crank my neck far enough round to see the tray in his hands. She wrapped herself around me, which was rather nice, and purred into my ear “I think Ali has been a good influence, cariad”

My boy was blushing! I sneaked a look at the wife, and shook my head as I whispered “No, not now, yeah?” before turning back to Jim.

“And, son of mine, to what do we owe?”

“Dad, just thought, you know, would be nice…”

Sar was jerking with suppressed laughter, so I slipped a hand under the duvet and tweaked a nip, which made her squeal, and brought a frown from Jim. He was at just that stage where he might guess what we were about.

“Jim, what were you really hoping for?”

“Er, Dad, Mam…it’s Christmas soon, and I was wondering, what are we doing?”

“Dunno, son, might be working”

“DAD!”

My darling put her hand over my mouth. “Shush, love. Jim, fy nghariad, what do you want to ask?”

“Mam…”

I felt the twitch, and smiled. No matter how many times he called her that, she still reacted, still warmed to her acceptance. I thought, just for an instant, of his mother, my dead love, and even as my loss pricked my soul, what I had gained merged with it. Both of my wives were here, in the two that I loved, the two who made my life real. Would I swap one for the other? Fuck knows, but then I couldn’t, so the question was moot, and after all…I loved this woman beside me, no more than his mother, but certainly, absolutely, no less.

Sarah was still interrogating. “Jim, darling, yeah? Ask, beg, demand, aye? But get the dog out, he’s farting”

“Mam…. Was just thinking, nearly Christmas, yeah?”

She was in her best and pointiest mood. “Indeed? Want to have some guests? Ali by any chance?”

Oooh pink…

“No, Mam; I was going to ask about Darren”

I was actually surprised at that. “He’s got his own family, Jim, lots and lots of them. We’d need one hell of a place to fit them all, even with your Nan’s house, yeah?”

“Yeah, Dad, but he told me they’re going to have another do at that church…”

“You been plotting, Jim?”

He still looked embarrassed, but there was a hint of challenge there. Somehow, we had avoided the teenage terrors I had half-expected, and I really believe it was due to Sarah’s influence on him, but the boy was most definitely becoming his own man. That brought a confused mix of feelings; he was still my boy, my lad, my child, but girls had been discovered, his own social circle clearly established, and from somewhere deep in my own genes a pair of shoulders was making an entrance. No longer a boy, no longer someone who found sleeping in an understairs cupboard an adventure, but still, still, my son.

I looked across the bed for an instant: our son.

He looked at me and in his eyes I could see the arguments gathering.

“It would be camping, Dad, and we haven’t been for a while”

“Who was it who was daft enough to get into the first XV? Told you, son, it eats your weekends! Mam, do we want to go lying in some cold tent in a field?”

“Will there be beer?”

“Bloody typical woman, straight to the awkward arguments. Knowing that lot, most probably, and music, before you get that argument in”

“Then, what the hell, man of mine, did you have anything else planned for the holiday?”

“Well, Mum was the only thing”

“Knowing that lot, they’ll have some folks in a hotel, or in their homes, aye, so…Jim, what have you done?”

“Em…Nan said she’d love to come”

I burst out laughing at that one. “You devious little bugger! Who else did you ring?”

The blush was spreading. “Ali…and Aunty Alice…and Uncle Pat…”

Sarah was giggling away like a teenager. “Tony, he’s stitched you up like a bloody kipper, he has! James Hall, you been speaking to Aunty Bev again? Thought so. Right, as it is down to me, I shall have a think about it and let you know later”

I grunted. “What do you mean down to you?”

“Me woman, me mother, so my choice, aye? Jim, bugger off and let that smelly hound into the garden”

The boy went, and her hand moved, and she murmured “And you…come here…”

Our breakfast was late.

I rang the usual suspects that morning.

“Woodruffs!”

“Morning, Geoffrey, you and that ginger slapper corrupting my boy?”

“Ah, he stirring you up already, Tone? If you can make it, should be good. Usual arrangements, usual bods. What about your own Wild West lot?”

“Trust me, he’s already been on the blower to Alice, so no doubt it’s gone all round the Powells by now, and of course he’s been on to Arris’ lot. He’s been busy, he’s even got Pat stirred up”

“Bloody hell, that should cause a stir, if he’s as in your face as usual”

He started to laugh again, and each time I heard him do that I knew exactly how well he and my old friend fitted, and why. “We shall have Merry there, of course, knowing Simon, so she will be having her own agenda even if Annie doesn’t. Bugger me, Chapel, Anglican, Left-footer; we won’t need any music for the entertainment!”

“Will there be beer?”

More laughter. “I nearly made that remark about the Pope just then, but given the guest list…course there will. Look, let us know exactly how many, then, and we will sort. See you there, mate”

Late shift that day, and I seemed to spend a lot of it under coaches in the damp, and I am sure I got some odd looks as I chuckled away at the thought that I was spending my working day being paid to lie on wet ground in winter, only to go off and do just about the same thing for fun in a churchyard. I got in just before midnight, only to get a slap when my cold knees touched the backs of hers. She made up for it with a kiss after I had warmed up a little, and then spooned back into me for the rest of the night. It was at times like that when I knew it was right, the whole thing. I mean, I didn’t have doubts at all, not now; we were a family, it all fitted so well, but there were moments that spoke to me of completion and others that shouted it.

Christmas Eve morning (odd phrase) we packed the chair with as much as we felt we needed, and I had a small moment of hesitation before taking the plunge. We were all in our riding kit, Jim in waterproofs rather than leathers, and I looked at Sar as she filled a pannier.

“Light of my life, doll-features, heart-face?”

“What do you want, Hall?”

“You don’t like riding the Guzzi, do you?”

“You know I don’t; steering’s all wrong with a sidecar, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…so which bike are you taking?”

“Well, the Kwak, of course….shit! You sure, Tone?”

“I’d probably have to start it for you, and Jim would go with me, love, and I’d need a promise you wouldn’t go silly…”

She kisses rather nicely, does my missus. So, sidecar filled with camping kit and dog, helmets on, and spark set on the beast I loved almost as much as my family. Straddle it, flip out the lever, and off the ground with both feet to come down again, and the fucker kicked back. Ow. I could fall out of love, you know.

Pause, breathe, into the air again, and bang, it was running, a warbling thunder of delight, and I set it on the side stand, looked up and caught her dancing with joy. I mean literally that; her hands were above her head, feet doing little hop steps.

“What? Look, you bloody married me, you were supposed to all your worldly goods me endow, and you have never, ever endowed me with this, have you? Means we’re properly married now!”

There are lots and lots of things I will never understand about my wife, but her love of a decent bike is not one of them, so I just grinned and kicked the Guzzi into life, which was a hell of a lot easier.

“Hop on, Jim. Got everything, cause if you haven’t it’s too late now!”

Off we went along the seafront to the tunnels and then the M20, at which point she simply left us for a few miles, until we caught up again as she wound her neck in. I caught the grin through her visor as we rode by side for a mile or so, till she pulled away again as far as Leeds and the Maidstone services, where we were to meet up with Pat, Janet and my mother. It still felt odd to see him without his dog collar, but the man inside never changed, just expanded into a widescreen version. He came smiling across the car park as the bikes ticked, arms spread wide, as Jim gave the dog a short walk.

“Tony! Have you the supplies?”

I showed him the two small soft drink bottles I had hidden from Sar. “The Sprite is the Laphroaig, the Seven-up is the Highland Park. Explain to me again, you sneaky bugger, why I am the one to bring the whisky?”

“Because I am the one who has brought the whiskey-with-an-E, the Bushmills sixteen-year-old, which the wife has deigned to permit my sharing”

“Hiya, Janet. You drink it too?”

His wife’s nose wrinkled theatrically. “Oh god no, Tony, someone has to keep the family taste bud alive. Jim is looking quite the young man now; he agitating for his own bike yet?”

I looked over at my lad. “He has, Janet, but I pointed out that a moped is a piece of strangled crap that he can outsprint on his Specialized, and if he waits one more year we can get him some proper lessons”

She laughed. “What, and let him out on the Norvin---no, Tony, ‘like fuck’ is not something your Mum needs to hear!”

I turned my head to check the reaction. “Janet, she just did hear it…”

“Yes, but not from her son”

Logic choppers. “Pat, Janet…you two deserve each other!”

They beamed, and as one said “Oh yes!”

Mum was impatient. “Come on, less gossip. I didn’t give birth to an old woman, did I?”

“Impatient to see Alice, Mum?”

She looked at me, sagging slightly. “Yes, son. Look, I know that it is all wonderful, all and everything she wanted, and Arwel and her…ah, I just miss the company. I don’t begrudge her, not at all, but…oh, you know what I mean, love. Come on; soonest there, soonest we get the kettle on”

The light was still enough to see as we rolled into the parking area by the church, and I used my delegation skills usefully, leaving the boy to put the tents up as I made my little circuit of greetings. I had just spotted Steph when a pair of arms went round me from behind and squeezed.

“My second favourite man…”

“Hello, Alice, please tell me you aren’t camping?”

She was looking old was how my thoughts first went, but then I realised that it wasn’t true. The truth was deeper: she looked as if she had relaxed into life. Her face wasn’t sagging with age, it was sitting comfortably without the stress that had held it tense for as many years as I had known her.

“Tony, my husband has been as devious as ever, and we have our own bed over there. We could, of course, have stayed with the Woods, but he rather felt that a room in the Six Bells would be more to his liking. Can I ask: did you know Jim was going to ask us over? Ah, thought not. He’s…look, my darling, does it worry you at all, him growing up?”

“A bit, Alice, a bit; like losing my son, in little ways, but he’s so steady, so normal–shit, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that”

“Tony, think about what you just did. It wasn’t until after you spoke that you worried. That suggests you consider me normal, which I take as a compliment and a reassurance”

I had to press her a little, I don’t know why, but I did. “You, um, you doing all right over there? No problems?”

She laughed, and nodded over to where her husband and stepson were deep in conversation with another group of Welshmen.

“Can you see anyone ever being allowed to give me problems, Tony? No, much as I am no believer in fate, those problems I have had seem to have been designed to deliver me to where I am now, and for that I will forgive almost anything. Well, anything but incest and rap music”

There was that twinkle there, the Aunty Alice my son had taken to so quickly.

“Where is he, Tony?”

“Earning his keep, Alice. I sent him over the pub to go up a few chimneys before setting the tent up. Mum’s over there by the car with the missus, so I am off to find cups and stuff, as I am sure the kettle is on somewhere”

“In the hall, Tony. Just remember, pour it out AFTER you have done the rounds, otherwise it will be cold”

There were people everywhere, and they were slowly settling into clusters. Tents were springing up, conversations going on in a number of different languages (was that bloody French?) and I was shaken and hugged all the way into the kitchen area, where I finally saw Simon.

“Ah, our doorman is here. Shouldn’t you be in a black jacket and tie?”

“Cheeky vicar, and you can pronounce that how you like. Hiya, Merry, when’s the wedding?”

Blush. “You are very presumptuous, Anthony Hall, but I shall ignore that rude and inquisitorial remark next June. Well, that is what he has suggested, but I am at present unsure as to whether I shall accept as he is derelict in his duties. The silly man has forgotten to get sufficient milk for the tea”

Simon slipped an arm around her waist. “No, my love, I have got in more than enough for an ordinary group of people. It isn’t my fault that your family drink so much tannin they must have leather stomachs. Tony, what do you drink in the evening?”

“Tonight, Simon? Beer, of course. Look, I could take a run down to the supermarket if you want”

“No, after all her nagging, Geoff has already gone. Look, here’s the plan: we have a plain meal here tonight, and then there will be work for me. Carol service, usual stuff, then beer and music, yeah? Tomorrow we have the hospital again for lunch with the WI, and after that it’s whatever we fancy”

I chuckled, as Alice’s pair of exceptions sprang to mind, and then had to explain them, of course, which brought a guffaw from him and a blush from her, but it was a blush she buried in his shoulder. Young love, how sweet.

I took Alice’s advice, and I must admit that I had real problems with some of the names, especially the foreigners. So many bloody Welsh…I spotted a tall red-haired woman, with two smaller women beside her, and realised that young Darren must be around somewhere. What was her bloody name? Jilly? Jacky?

“COO-EE BIG MAN! And if you can’t remember us that’s tough cause you will when you leave. What’s your name again?”

The youngest woman sniffed theatrically. “Thass Mr Hall, Jim’s dad, Mum!”

I stuck out a hand. “Tony…GINNY!”

“Don’t wear it out, I like it, yeah? You seen Daz yet? This one’s pining”

It was really odd the way…Kate! It was Kate!...was hanging back slightly with a gentle smile on her face, just watching the other two like an indulgent parent. She murmured “Shan, want to go with Mr Hall while he looks for Darren? Tony, is your friend here, with all the other young people?”

“If he isn’t, Kate, then my boy will be terribly disappointed, yeah? Young love and all that”

On cue, the two older women turned their gaze on Shan, who blushed. “Mums!”

Kate grinned back. “Remember what we said, love. Good men, bad men, yes? Got your phone?”

“Yes, Mum, got it”

There was far more of the teenager in her than I had ever seen in my son, but it was almost a parody of itself, as if Shan felt that she had a role to play, one indulged by her parents. I was sure there would have been proper strops at some point, but there was an underlying warmth there that spoke of people who could keep their eyes on bigger things, bigger pictures. Shan pulled her pink hat down, wrapped her pink scarf around the top of her pink fleece and stuffed her pink-gloved hands into its pockets. Ginny caught some indication from me and said “What? So she likes pink, and it is ok because she is a gurl, right?”

What else could I do but shake my head and laugh? “Come on, Shan, let’s find that boy”

We headed off round the back of the hall, to see if he was setting a tent up anywhere, and passed Pat and Janet heading for the kitchen area. I made a mental note: make tea at tent rather than get dragged into the conversation that was no doubt about to explode. Politely, in true friendship, but it would still be an explosion. We found Darren at the back door, helping to carry boxes of food and drink into the Hall and I was suddenly abandoned by Miss Pink, who went straight in for full mouth-to-mouth action.

I found it odd to watch. I mean, I kiss my wife, and she kisses me, and very nice it is too, and most of our friends seemed to share the taste, but those two were so close to Jim in age that it threw me. Jim was, is, my son, and no matter how old he gets he will always be just that, and in my heart of hearts he will always remain a child.

Darren was released at last, and grinned over his girl’s shoulder, and I realised that he too was hitting some sort of spurt in his growth.

“Mr Hall! You got Jim here, then, yeah?”

“Putting the tents up, son. He’s waiting for his girl to arrive, so I thought I’d keep him occupied so he doesn’t pine away, yeah? And yes, we have the hound with us”

“Magic! I get this last box in, give him a hand, yeah?”

Somehow he disengaged from Shan and did the necessary with the supplies, and I saw how wiry his forearms had become. I felt old, the younger man coming up fast on the inside, but then he grinned, and it was the child again, off to see his mate. All that was missing was his hand in mine…

Our tents weren’t up, as it turned out, because my own young man had been distracted by some strumpet.

“Hiya Steve, Arris! Could you drag her off somewhere so he can finish what he started?”

I am sure the ground moves slightly when he laughs. “You miserable bugger, they haven’t seen each other for–how long is it, love?”

Arris pretended to check her watch. “Bout a fortnight? Hiya, Darren! This the famous Chantelle?”

The girl was blushing. Too much life in them…”You met me before, yeah, when I was just getting my Mums”

Arris just smiled sweetly. “Aye, but you were all shy and young, back then! Seem to remember you buried under my offspring. ‘S right, Ali? Oh, put him down for a minute! Darling lover, were we ever like that?”

Memories…I thought back to a campsite, and a shy girl, and her friend. “Arris, would you like me to tell the kids what you were really, truly, like, you two?”

“Er, no, not really. Where’s your missus, Tone?”

Jim looked out from inside the tent, where he was now laying out sleep mats.

“Mum’s got Pie, Dad, taking him round to say hello to everyone. Said she’d catch you later, after she got her own cuppa cause you are not fit for purpose as a husband. Well, it’s what she said!”

Steve looked at me, one eyebrow raised in amused sympathy. “Only one thing to say to that, bro. Pint?”

I nodded. “Pint, yeah. Off to the pub, son. Wash your face when you’ve finished!”

It was, of course, full of Welshmen. Why did I marry someone from over there? Simple, really: I loved her. The rest just sort of came along in the slipstream.

“Arwel, Twm, Hywel, hiya!”

“Tony, just in time. Your round, I think”

“Cheeky bugger. Never change, do you?”

“Fuck aye, Tone. Got me on bloody salads half the week, she has. This is my two days of escape, aye? Bag of pork scratchiings do me, with the Doom Bar, I think”

Steve rumbled again. “Bloody good job the in-laws aren’t over, we’d be outnumbered”

Arwel laughed, and there was real warmth there. “Look on the bright side, lads! Annie’s lot are all Chapel, aye? More room in here for us sensible people!”

Hywel snorted. “You, Dad? Sensible?”

“Well, I married the old trout, didn’t I? Same again, Twm, boy?”

Nods, and ten minutes later Steve and I had our first pint of the day, and for a few moments there was quiet. Hywel broke the silence as his Dad munched through his dried fat.

“Gets complicated, this sort of thing, aye? So many people, half of them I don’t remember the names, just know I’m supposed to smile. Our Elaine be down as well, at least they’re family, aye?”

Arwel paused in his eating. “Big word, that, boy. Tony, this is your family, aye? Few strangers here, like that boy sitting by you, but we don’t mind that. Your son, Jim, there, he’s as much family as if he were Sar’s. He knows that, aye?”

He looked again at Steve. “You too, big man. Not family, so much, but without your girl, my girl wouldn’t be here, so even though you’re a sais I’ll take a pint with you”

Twm laughed out loud. “Especially if he’s just bought it, aye? . Anyway, you sort of owe them your own marriage, aye?”

The most theatrical of sighs came from the old man. “Aye, there’s a down side to everything”

Another laugh, from Hywel. “Duw, Dad, you don’t half talk some crap at times. Tony, you noticed how we’ve gone on today? Women off one way, us all over here, aye? Shows who has the sense”

I laughed. “There’s at least two couples who are joined at the gob at the moment. Oh, and the vicar”

“Is this the sexist patriarchy bar, or can we have a pint as well?”

I looked up, and it was my sisters-in-law, both in normal clothing for once. Elaine grinned and grabbed her uncle’s hand over the head of her cousin for a squeeze, and she looked round the table.

“Bloody typical; too late to be in the round, too early for the next one! Dim ots, aye”

Siá¢n bent down to me. “That was a hint, Tone, for whoever got the last one to flash the cash”

“Whatever happened to buying your own?”

Elaine sniffed. “We may be lesbians, but we’re still lay-dees. White wine and a pint of whatever the dead rat was last in””

Steve chuckled. “Hear and obey…”

Elaine drew up a couple more chairs. “What’s the plan, boys?”

I bit my tongue at the answer that sprang to mind, about drinking the pub dry. “Simon is doing a carol service this evening and we have some beers and food in the hall. Proper Christmas lunch for us all tomorrow, courtesy of the WI. Tenner a head for us, and the proceeds go to the local hospice. Dinner for us, with the usual kid’s hospital crowd, and there will be music from the usual suspects, and a disco sort of thing for when they get tired”

Arwel grunted. “And beer, aye”

“You are staying in a bloody pub, Arwel!”

“Aye, and shut they will be on the day, Tone. Took some persuading to let us stay the night, got to go in and out the back door”

I took a sip as Steve returned with the girls’ drinks. “How did you manage that, anyway? Place would normally be closed up tight as a duck’s whatsit”

Hywel answered. “Mix of things, really. Landlord quite appreciates the charity bit over at the church, and it’s Mam…Alice. That court case is still quite fresh in some people’s minds, aye, and he seems to have decided to be nice”

Elaine leant past me and said something in Foreign, in the middle of which I clearly heard the word “Mam”. Hywel looked round our little party and shrugged. “Well, it seems to make her happy, and, well, it certainly seems to fit, aye? How anyone could ever have thought she was a man, diawl”

That was so close to home. We had our own little collection there, and it was such a truth. Janet I had only ever known as a woman, and my wife had always been one as far as I felt, but the others I had watched as they stepped over the border. Annie, Alice, Steph…I still had scars she had given me, for fuck’s sake, and yet what Hywel had said was so absolutely right. I looked at each of them, and they were women, and I wondered how the world could ever have believed anything different.

Elaine sank her pint effortlessly, and glanced at the bar for an instant.

“Nope, we need to get over there and get sorted. Tent, shewee, all that sort of thing. And talk to somebody, aye? Social event, not pub crawl, bechgyn”

Hywel sank his beer. “Okay, Ossifer, I’ll come quietly, iawn?”

Siá¢n sipped her wine. “Not what Suze says”

I leant over towards Elaine. “Shewee?”

“Girly pee bottle, aye? Sort of, anyway. Only thing I’m jealous of in a bloke. Come on, sup up and we’ll get sociable, there are people I want to see!”

We supped, as instructed, and headed off back to the church. The light was almost gone now, and there were more arrivals. I found Steph again just as Dave and his wife arrived, and before I could do more than the basics Simon and Merry were calling for order.

He took the lead, but only just. “We have an hour, people, before we have the service. Can I ask our choristers to be in the stalls at least fifteen minutes before that?”

Merry stepped forward. “There will be no false modesty this evening, and there will be mince pies in each choir stall”

Arwel’s voice boomed out. “Pint of ale be better, aye?”

And so we went to the ball.