Book 2, Chapter 66

I did choose another route for my run next morning but Andy and Robert’s idea of a big mobile sculpture had stuck in my mind - perhaps a mobile standing in a child-friendly reflecting pool would work well. There’s a similarity between public art and events like The Pirates of Cardiff Bay boat race that Arianrhod Developments was sponsoring - the critics might dismiss popular art, and hipsters dismiss fun public events, but without them to draw people together local cooperation withers. For me art and public events are the grit around which the pearls of a healthy culture can grow so it could even be that my own ideas had been influenced by a local artist’s work - he was after all becoming famous worldwide for his graffiti known by his tag, Banksy.

With the mobile sculpture and pool in mind I phoned Bill wondering if such a mobile could be fitted into the development.

“Admit it. You want to build a playground ready for your children, don’t you Venus?”

“Rubbish!” I answered reflexively, because I honestly hadn’t thought of that. “Even if it is something suited to children, does that mean adults won’t appreciate it too?”

“We’re all children under the skin and I’m sure adults will at least enjoy arguing whether it’s an asset or a waste of money. Of course the health and safety people will make it difficult but we can try to make it work. Speaking of work, your member of parliament is holding a local surgery on the Sunday after next so you can introduce him to the changes in law you want.” With that he gave me the phone number for the MP’s secretary and asked my permission to put on some clothes because, in case I hadn’t noticed it was still only 7:30 in the morning.

Later in the morning I made an appointment to see my MP, or to be precise I phoned at 9 am which is when experience suggested an office would be open rather than at 8 am when we manual workers start - why is that? Being unsure of the reception a random 18 year old would receive I gave my details as Ms Delia Williams, Director of Arianrhod Developments residing at …… within the MP’s constituency and had no trouble getting an appointment. Describing myself that way did sound underhand, especially standing by the phone in my work dungarees, but at least I didn’t follow my first inclination and pretend to be my own secretary.

With the appointment made my mind went immediately not to what I would say but what I would wear. The ‘Mermaids group’ were much more knowledgeable than I about which changes to the law would be helpful and feasible so my contribution could only be to present their suggestions as persuasively as possible. My member of parliament was a middle-aged, educated member of the labour party and the right suit I could see in my mind’s eye hanging in Litara’s main wardrobe. I’d never seen her wear it but instinctively felt her red suit carried the message ‘proud as an individual of who I am yet also of the people’.. Perversely maybe, at the same time it struck me to wonder just when I became a person willing and able to knowingly manipulate a man for my own ends?

Being a potential member of the power-broking classes didn’t noticeably change my lifestyle through the proceeding week. In my kick-boxing class, while surprising myself with my improving abilities against an inanimate bag, as soon as I was put up against a real person I came over all coy not able to convince that I was even trying to land a kick on the teacher. Dancing on Wednesday resulted in a few bruises when my jive partner’s enthusiasm exceeded his ability to balance. Friday’s music night song with Serena, though well received, was almost certainly overambitious as we took liberties with an old Otis Redding song, ‘Try a little tenderness’. All in all, despite my eccentric past as a member of the female gender and potential as one of the more influential women in the country, any person seeing me would have only seen a typical Welsh girl who laughed and blushed a lot.

That is how my image stood until Sunday when the Cardiff and Swansea scuba clubs cooperated on transport to get six of we open-water learners, with our instructors, to the Blue Lagoon on the West coast of Wales for a qualifying dive. We were warned that, although no competitions were scheduled for that day, the old slate quarry at Abereiddy was a favourite site for cliff divers and we would always need someone on shore to alert any coasteering groups or individuals against jumping on top of us. That is how, after completing my dive with the first group, I came to be posted as a lookout at one of the favourite jumping spots; and that is why I was the one well positioned to see that in the path of the line of ascending bubbles from the divers were several large jelly fish.

Signalling to a dive group which is underwater is fairly easy with a horn or by banging a metal stick against a rock which is what an instructor did when I yelled a warning to him. The divers quickly surfaced and started swimming toward a landing place but shouts and waved signals failed to direct them away from the jelly fish. Without thinking I jumped into the lagoon to lead them in the direction I could see was clear and it went perfectly except that it meant I had to jump on jelly fish. I did have on my wet suit and my hands were over my face as I jumped but the irony that I was the only one stung wasn’t lost on me. It could have been worse though if I hadn’t remembered a comment made by Jean Luc - he wasn’t there of course but his words spoken in Bilbao saved me from a terrible fate when one of the divers wanted to try a home remedy to ease the stings on my face but I forcefully explained that urine as a cure for jellyfish stings doesn’t work!

Jelly fish stings, at least the ones I had on my face, were not enough of an excuse for time off work so I was up and running early on Monday morning as usual. How I wondered, remembering my friend’s inclinations, will I cope with next Sunday’s meeting with my member of parliament when the day before, Saturday the 30th of June, is my 19th birthday?