CHAPTER 32
We ended up staying nearly a week, as the weather was so hot and clear. I went out with Pat on a couple of days, trying to copy her walking style, which was something I had noticed as we had walked up Glyder Fach. She didn’t take huge strides, simply placing her feet carefully in a steady rhythm, but it took her steadily uphill and towed me along in her wake. Our next trip was up the thing she had called Y Garn, by what she called ‘the nicer way, which involved a ridge, an awful lot easier than the Gribin, a really broad hillside for a descent, and then something that scared me at first sight.

“Devil’s Kitchen, Deb. Looks like empty space, but the path turns sharp left, and it’s easy. Then down to the road past the lake, and a cuppa from Dennis before we drive back”

It wasn’t bad at all, after I had conquered the feeling that I was walking off the edge of the cliff. The little cove with the lake in we walked through was enchanting, and the cup of tea was more than welcome.

The second day was much longer, as Pat led me up the softer side of that great heap of shattered stone we had passed on the way in, something called Pen yr Ole Wen, and, after a mercifully short bit of scrambling, along a broad ridge she named as the Black Ladders, over a huge rounded top and out into the middle of nowhere.

“Your Dad’s hut is this way, love. Not exactly in the best state of repair at the moment”

Someone had actually used it as a toilet, so we sat outside, drinking the last of her tea as she once more pointed out what was where.

“Go that way, and you come to Aber. Huge waterfall, bit of a tricky ascent. We walked from there a couple of times, kipped in the refuge…”

Once more, her eyes teared up, and I understood that sleeping might not have been all she had done with her husband in that little rough space fitted into a cleft in the rocks. I didn’t have the words, so simply took her hand until she was herself again. We sat in silence, as a big black bird flew overhead, calling out a deep-noted “Kronk!”

“What happened to you, Deb?”

“Sorry?”

“Those two aren’t your real parents, are they? Look nothing like you, and you’ve got a Gog accent. They’re both from the Midlands, in England”

She stared at me for a minute or so, before dropping her gaze to her knees.

“Sorry, Deb, if I’m being rude. Whatever your story is, you’re safe”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Dad’s words came to me, about listening to how people say things rather than what words they used, and I stepped off the edge, trusting in Pat, as I had trusted her at that physical edge over Idwal.

“I was in a home, Pat. I managed to get away. Never went back”

Her head jerked up, eyes widening.

“Not that place in Carlisle, Deb?”

“No. A couple of the same men, though”

Her mouth worked, opening and closing a few times as she sought her own words.

“How old were you?”

“Eight. I was there three years. I’ll be eighteen soon, so I will be safe, Dad says. Mam used to be a nurse. If I say she had some repairs to do, will you understand? Don’t really want to go into more detail”

She sat silently for at least four minutes, before holding out her hand to mine. A squeeze, and then she was rummaging in her rucksack.

“Got that bag from the sandwiches, Deb? Can’t let a place as lovely as this be spoiled just because someone doesn’t know how to love it”

She didn’t mention my history again, and with my help, she used toilet paper from a roll in her backpack to scoop out the turds from the shelter, burying them under some rocks well away from both path and refuge. The toilet paper she used went into the sandwich bag, to be carried out with us and disposed of properly once we got back to the campsite. Once more, we set off towards the huge rounded top.

“Not going to let a few pieces of shit ruin my day, or my life, Deb. You got me?”

I stepped over to her, slipping an arm around her waist as she returned the favour. Over the top, down the other side via a very short bit of easy rock work, a zig-zag path and then a knee-punishing walk down a long and very straight road., and back to the tents.

We ate on the site that night, Dad having driven the van down to the nearby village and loading up with all sorts of food as well as some wine and beer. The four of us pooled our supplies, eating as a foursome as the stars came out, swapping stories about all sorts of things as Pat and I danced clear of the meaty subjects that had come into a day of beauty like a turd on a lover’s grave.

We set off two days later, all addresses and assurances exchanged, and we made our way up through Lancashire market by market, until we were skirting the Lakes, traffic heavy as we headed for the Midgesummer. I will be honest in that it didn’t really work for me, as a rally. The mood was edgy, with too many little men trying to show how big they were, so as soon as we had packed up on the Sunday morning, we were off to the Wall country again, and a night in that car park by the little pool, this time with the grassy area crowded with far more tents than we usually saw. Blame the weather.

We continued on to Druridge Bay, with the obligatory stop at Graham’s, but I was feeling more and more out of sorts, until Mam came up to me as I lay in my own bikini, tucked into a hollow in the marram grass as the sand soughed over the beach.

“Penny for them, love?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been very quiet since those days in the mountains. Ken and me, we’re a bit worried. I’m worried”

“What about, Mam?”

Her face twisted slightly.

“That’s one thing, love. Natural for me to wonder, to ask myself, Loz Petrie, have you done right by this child?”

“What way haven’t you?”

“Oh, all sorts of ways, love. Take how you are now. Is that because I wanted a daughter? Is it what you really wanted? All sorts of stuff… Got your birthday coming up in a little while, your eighteenth, and I don’t know what you are going to do, once you’re safe. What… I don’t…”

Suddenly, she was in tears, so I turned quickly to pull her down beside me, where she sobbed into my shoulder, our roles reversed for the very first time. I held her until I could start to make sense of her fears, before doing my best to put them to bed. Don’t let a lovely place be spoiled, girl.

“Not sure what to say, Mam, but that first bit, well, I always was a girl. You just helped me, helped me more than I could ever have hoped. You didn’t make me change over, cause I was always there. You just made it a lot easier. So stop fretting on that one. Anyway, if you needed a daughter, then this girl really needed some parents, so we come out as winners there, don’t we?”

She hugged me tightly as I continued.

“I know I haven’t been in the best mood, but that’s not you. Never you, OK? It was Pat, and thinking about one of the boys in Runcorn. Realising how bad other people can have it, how easy it’s really been for me”

“Easy? For you, Deb? Fuck off!”

“It has, though, hasn’t it? I got out, you found me; it’s been so good since then. Those kids in Carlisle, the ones buried in the grounds… And Pat. Look at what she has to do, every day, without her husband being there. We went out to that hut, the one Dad remembers, and I think we all know the memories she has from it with her man, yeah? And someone had taken a shit, right where we all know they used to make love, and, well, it’s realising how many people have it really shit, and needing to do something to make it better, and I can’t, and I wouldn’t know how, but I NEED to do something, and, well, shit like that. I really need to give something back, and I can’t see how!”

Mam pulled back so as to be able to look me in the eye again.

“Bloody Carol, isn’t it? Karma and dharma? You talk like that, and it starts to make sense. Look, love, we can’t all do that. We don’t always get the opportunity. So we do what we can, what I know you will, and we do our best to be righteous, to be good people. Dad’s spoken to you about work, hasn’t he?”

“HGV driver? Yeah. But that would mean leaving you!”

“No, it wouldn’t. It would mean staying in the house, joining us at weekends if we are working a rally. Build up some savings of your own, and to be honest, a little bit more coming into the family coffers never hurts. So, what about your birthday?”

“What about it?”

“Well, we will be going into a council office with attitude, love. One good thing…”

She paused, turning away from me as she sat up, looking out to sea.

“That place in Runcorn, you were just a runaway. That second shithole, in Carlisle, that was a reason to stay running. If we had gone up to them when you were a minor, you’d have been stuffed. Going up as an adult, telling them to sort out your records, there’ll be fuck-all they can do, unless they decide to have a go at me and Ken”

“And wouldn’t they need some sort of ‘victim’ to push anything like that?”

She turned back to me, her old grin back in place.

“Yes, and that would be you, love, and I don’t think you’re doing ‘victim’ anymore!”

A broader grin.

“Got a flask and some biccies in my bag. Want a cuppa, while we work out how to stick it right up The Man?”