A Chapter where Briony and Rachel bring Daphne home to the relative safety of Plas Glas.

The Welsh Mountain Ram 21

Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.

The Ram 21.

Briony woke to realise she was still in her clubbing clothes. It was four pm, and she was late for the hospital.

“Damn!” She cursed and her utterance alerted Rachel. Shirley and Fajita had taken Sion and Ellairy out so Briony had to empty her breasts with her vacuum pump and leave milk in the fridge for Fajita to give while she was out.

“Am I neglecting my kids?’ She wondered then forgave herself.

At that juncture, Daphne was the most important issue. She would need all the love and support that Briony could give. After the quickest of showers, she and Rachel drove back to the QE. To find Daphne awake but stuffed with painkillers.

“How is it?” Rachel asked.

“Bad,” Daphne mumbled. “They won’t know for sure unless or until they can remove the fragment. It’s close to a lot of nerves and stuff apparently.”

“Yes,” Rachel confirmed the surgeon’s words to Briony, “there’s lots of stuff going on around that area.”

Briony pulled a wry expression. She wanted to smile but was in no mood for jollity.

“Lots of stuff going on? Is that a medical expression? That’s exactly what the surgeon said this morning.”

“Well there is Bri’”, Rachel reaffirmed. “The shoulder is a very busy joint and it’s the most flexible joint in the body.”

“This one doesn’t feel very flexible at the moment; it hurts like hell, and my chest, it hurts just to breath.” Daphne croaked.

“Just lie still,” Briony ordered as the consultant appeared still in her scrubs.

“I’ve just assisted on another victim with a bullet in his stomach. As soon as I’m scrubbed up and sterile again, I’ll be the lead surgeon removing the other fragment from the underside Daphne’s clavicle.”

“What’s the prognosis doc?” Rachel asked.

The lady surgeon squinted at Rachel who was looking hard at her as recognition dawned...

“You sound familiar, do I know you?” The surgeon hazarded.

“Yes doc. I do know you. Don’t you remember? Iraq, the first gulf war; I was your theatre sister at the field hospital in Kuwait then Basra. I was known as Richard then ... Sergeant Richard Jenkins.”

“Well I’ll be buggered! So you’re transgendered now.”

“Always was doc. This is the real me.”

“Good God. Well I have to say it, you’re looking good girl! I’d never have read you. Have you had surgery?”

“Facial feminisation and a boob job, that’s all. I’m keeping my bits, my lady partner likes em.”

The lady surgeon grinned as her and Rachel’s military mutuality created a brief ribaldry.

“So that makes you a lesbian ...”

“With a dick ...” Rachel finished with a soft giggle.

The coarse humour relaxed the tension in the room and the grinning consultant wagged her head as she attended to Daphne then asked them to leave as the surgical team arrived to start preparing her for more surgery. As Daphne started to succumb to the anaesthetic, the surgeon explained to Rachel.

“You know the score; we won’t know how long it’ll take until we open her up again. The brachial neuro-specialist is attending from The Royal I’m guessing about two or three hours though.”

Rachel nodded then took Briony with her back to the hotel. In the car she explained the risks and Daphne could only kick her heels while entertaining Sion and feeding Ellairy. Although Fajita was technically ‘off duty’ she stayed to reassure Briony that the children were well cared for. Later that evening Rachel got a phone call, it was the surgeon.

“Hello Rachel, Daphne’s out of theatre and she’s come around. She’s asking for Briony, Shirley and you.”

The three were there in less than thirty minutes. The surgeon explained as she demonstrated Daphne’s recovered skills.
Daphne was able to show that her fingers could move and that pleased Rachel immensely as the surgeon continued. Rachel’s good mood translated to Briony and Shirley as the surgeon explained further.

“She’s got some motor function back, but until she comes out of that cast, we won’t know about her upper arm and shoulder. There’s also the matter of muscular strength. There was a lot of tissue damage. She might always be weak in that arm.”

“It’s all ifs, buts and maybe’s isn’t it,” Briony sighed.

“F’raid so. We’ll be keeping her in for a few more days. I’ll run some more tests.”

Briony sagged in the chair beside Daphne’s bed. Daphne grunted as she extended her good right arm and gently grasped Briony’s arm. Slowly she gave advice in a hoarse, weak whisper for it hurt to breath.

“Just be brave love, you don’t have to stay with me now. It’s just a matter of recovery now.”

“I’m staying with you tonight.” Briony promised tearfully. “I’ll sort out everything else tomorrow. I’ve got to speak to Cledwyn and sort out the feeding of the animals.”

“Speak to Blodwen. She’ll be able to help a lot in that direction. As Daphne spoke, she smiled with surprise. “Speak of the Devil!”

Briony turned around and felt a surge of relief. Blodwen had arrived after just hearing the news of Daphne’s wounds. Briony sighed with relief, ‘Blodwen would know much more about organising the farm and taking on a temporary labourer.’

Blodwen placed the bag of grapes on the window sill because there was no bedside cabinet. The bed was surrounded by assorted equipment that seemed to be either nourishing or feeding off Daphne’s body. Blodwen studied Daphne silently for long seconds then seemed to read her mind.

“I’ll look after the farm. It’s just after Christmas and things are quiet at my architectural practice until the builders start back to work. There’s a cold snap forecast so most building work is on stop or go-slow. I can handle any queries over the web while I’m down at Plas Glas. My partner will keep things ticking over. Have they said how long you’ll be in?”

“About four or five days, minimum, possibly longer,” Briony affirmed.

“Have you got the bullet as a memento?” Blodwen asked.

Daphne would have shrugged but it was too painful and her shoulder was in a cast. Instead she just waggled her right hand then explained slowly between painful breaths.

“No. The police took the fragments for forensics and as evidence. The bullet broke in two.”

Blodwen grinned.

“Well make sure your eventually get both bits. You can use them as ear-ring decorations.”

Daphne would have laughed but it was too painful. Instead she sighed wearily and apologised.

“I want to sleep again. Sorry, my chest still hurts like hell.”

Blodwen suddenly felt a little guilty when she realised she had already over-taxed Daphne’s weakened body. She leant forward, kissed her gently, then pressed the call button for the IC nurse.

The uniformed sister appeared almost immediately. Daphne explained she was tired and the nurse injected a sedative to send her under while her friends watched concernedly. As Daphne’s eyes closed the nurse explained.

“The more she sleeps the better. I’m told one of you is staying?”

Briony nodded and the nurse showed her the adjoining annex where a fold-up mattress lay handy. The rest made their goodbyes and by the time Briony returned to her friend’s bed-side to say goodnight, Daphne was already in a deep, drugged sleep. Following Blodwen’s example, Briony kissed her forehead and returned to arrange her bed whilst leaving the adjoining door open.

The drugs ensured that Daphne slept solidly but Briony had a restless night. Several times she slipped quietly into Daphne’s IC ward to check on her friend and simply sit in the chair watching the slow laboured breathing. She began to understand the sense of purpose that ‘keeping vigil’ did for patient’s relatives and companions. The feeling of being there, and sharing ... sharing what; she could not quantify, but it gave her comfort just to seemingly support and protect her wounded companion.

As she kept looking at Daphne, Briony‘s thoughts wandered to a thousand things then occasionally a hoarse cough or rasp would draw her attention back to Daphne’s pale complexion.

‘At least she wasn’t using one of those awful ventilators that seemed to signal every breath and so emphasise the danger of ceasing to breath.’ Briony always saw them as some sort of parasitic insect attached to the patients face as though stealing a person’s very air when in fact they were doing the very opposite and were quite essential to the person’s survival. Fortunately

Daphne was breathing naturally if raggedly.

Eventually the dawn found Briony snoring in the chair as the IC nurse came to complete her final check before handing over to the day team.

“Wake up Miss Briony, the surgeon will be here shortly.”

“What time is it?” She asked, forgetting there was a clock on the wall.

“Seven o’clock.”

“My God does that lady surgeon ever sleep?”

“It won’t be her, it’s the registrar. Her work is done here, Daphne’s recovering satisfactorily. Hopefully she’ll be feeding by mouth this morning and if we can remove the chest drain her breathing should improve rapidly.”

Briony felt the wave of relief as Daphne stirred and grunted with pain. She had unconsciously tried to use her injured shoulder as she woke up. The pain brought her quickly to full wakefulness. Daphne turned and saw Briony looking at her. Both girls smiled. Briony was glad Daphne had made it through the night, Daphne was glad somebody she knew and loved was there waiting for her when she woke.

It was Monday morning and Briony knew that Rachel and Shirley had their regular work to sort. Shirley was returning to Manchester while Rachel was organising the Trans convention for the police and other emergency services. This meant Briony was very much ‘on her own’ with regard to Daphne’s recovery but Daphne had arranged with the hotel to provide Briony with extra help with her children. Fajita came up trumps in her extra care for the children and apart from breast feeding Ellairy, Briony was spared the
burden of care. Fortunately, as Daphne’s condition slowly improved, Sion was allowed to visit and he savoured the lurid story. He was disappointed that the bullet had been taken away by the police. When he expressed these sentiments Daphne whispered to Briony.

“Boys! Gruesome creatures aren’t they. I’m glad I was never fully one of them.”

Briony grinned back.

“Oh they have their uses Daph’.”

Daphne nearly laughed but her heaving chest caused a couching fit. She coughed up some vile green phlegm stained with blood and puss and Sion peered at it in the sputum bowl.

“Is that real blood?”

An exasperated Briony scolded him.

“Of course it is! She was shot in the chest. Now stop being so bloody gruesome or I won’t bring you again.”

Suitably chastened, Sion fell silent and studied the various monitors while Briony chatted at length about Blodwen’s work back at Plas Graig Las.

During the rest of the week many matters were attended to and the police conducted some more interviews. The CCTV cameras on the street and in all the clubs had proved extremely useful and the police had some firm leads. On the Thursday they were pleased to be able to declare to the press that they had one man in custody and were following up several more productive inquiries.

“I just love their quaint expressions,” Briony chuckled as she sat with Daphne relishing the good news..

Thus the week passed and on the Saturday Daphne was released. As Briony drove Daphne and her children home she felt a warm fuzz engulf her stomach as she considered the word ‘home’.

'Had she and Daphne become so close and travelled so far already that she thought of Plas Graig Las as ‘home’? She wondered.

Strangely she felt even better that Rachel was following in her car with Shirley and the three children namely Rachel’s older children James and Tara and also Shirley’s own child by Rachel.

Briony was glad of the company as she navigated the narrow mountain roads and even more glad that the snow had pretty much melted.

The winding, featureless mountain roads were easier to follow when hedges and banks were visible.

Blodwen greeted them at the farm gate in the ‘eight thousand’ and accompanied them down the lane to the farm. As the convoy approached the back gate of Plas Graig Las the cars were beset by a maelstrom of ecstatic dogs and hysterical barking. Sion could not get out of the Landrover quickly enough as he hugged the dogs and pranced madly with them before dashing straight across the yard to check on Angel the mare and more particularly, Gabriel, her foal.

As he settled quietly in the straw to hug the foal’s neck a young female voice approached nervously. Tara had heard about the foal and wanted desperately to see it.

“Where are you Sion?” She called.

“Shhhh! You’ll frighten her. I’m in the loosebox with Angel and Gabby.” Sion whispered to emphasise the need for calm.

“What’s a loosebox?” Tara whispered.

Sion rose reluctantly, then stroked the young foal to calm her down before slipping quietly through the door and putting his finger to his lips. Tara spotted him immediately and recognised his signal. She crept up to him and he slowly opened the door as he whispered instructions.

“Move slowly and quietly, she doesn’t know you yet.”

The foal continued lying in the straw as Sion slipped into the loosebox while Angel extended her nose to be patted. When Tara followed him in as softly as she could, the foal immediately stood and slipped behind her mother. The disappointment was evident on Tara’s face but Sion whispered.

“Sit down in that straw over there, it’s clean. Once you’re smaller than her she won’t be so nervous and Angel will also be calmer.”
Tara did as asked and within minutes the foal emerged and nervously edged towards her. By pre-arrangement before they had left Birmingham, Tara had some sugar lumps from the hotel. She gave them to Angel because Gabriel had not yet got any teeth but the
mare’s appreciation translated to her foal and Gabriel eventually approached Tara to nuzzle her fingers inquisitively.

“There see. She’ll get to like you once she knows you.” Sion whispered.

“Ooooh she’s beautiful, she’s so sweet.”

“I call her Gabby for short and she comes to the call watch.” So saying, Sion whispered Gabby’s name and the foal immediately pressed close to the boy. Sion grinned proudly.

“See. Daphne taught me how to do that, Daphne’s fabulous. When Gabby’s ready and old enough, Daphne’s taking me riding. D’you want to see the other animals?”

Sion’s enthusiasm was infectious and despite the age differences, Tara followed him around the barn to meet Pansy and Jessica the sows. Peter the ram had been turned out into the paddock but Sion was able to identify him from the ewes.

“He’s the one with the big curly horns. Daphne says he’s got some Wiltshire in him, that’s a breed of sheep with big horns.”

Having exhausted his store of knowledge, they joined the adults in the house where Daphne was sorting out various issues concerning her absence and incapacity.

Briony and Shirley were helping Blodwen prepare the dinner while Rachel and her son James carried in the luggage. After the meal was eaten, Daphne led Rachel and her family around the house. The more Rachel saw, the more enthusiastic she became about organising weekend parties.

“It’s just fantastic! I mean it just couldn’t be bettered. Ten huge double bedrooms and then the servant’s bedrooms on the second floor. I mean it’s just incredible. This place must cost a fortune to heat!”

Daphne grinned.

“No. There’s our own private generating station with several water turbines fed by the river. The electricity heats this house and Blodwen’s farm. Heating and light are free except to maintain the turbines.”

“Why d’you use an Aga to cook?” Rachel pressed.

Daphne smiled as memories flooded back.

“My Mummy and Grandma used to use it to cook and I learned from them on it.Thus it just sort of got stuck. It's what I'm used to. Before Briony came I tended to use the microwave. I’ve never had the heart to remove it, anyway, it’s good for cooking, Briony will tell you that.”

Briony nodded vigorously.

“It’s true. I find it great.”

“Yes, they are good,” Shirley added enviously.

“So, shall we sort out the bedrooms then?”

They all nodded including Blodwen. Daphne caught her eye and grinned.

“I suppose you’ve already chosen your favourite one, the one with the door to the turret.”

“As always,” Blodwen confessed,” after all I’ve been using it ever since I was a baby.”

“Yeah,” Daphne sighed, “we go back a long way don’t we?”

“If I wasn’t gay darling, I’d have married you at sixteen. Briony’s a lucky girl. Come on then, let’s sort out the other rooms. There’s linen and everything ready in each room and all the beds are aired. I’ve prepared the house for guests while I’ve been here. Plas Las won’t know itself. A proper party after what? Twenty five years?”

“More than that,” Daphne confessed pensively. Since before mummy died, that’s twenty seven years this Christmas.”
The next hour was spent choosing rooms, the biggest issue being that Tara and James couldn’t decide which ones they preferred. In the end Daphne offered to toss a coin. An act that was to become a tradition at future parties.