CHAPTER 17
After Nita had gone, Kim rose from her seat.

“I should get back to Ruth’s”

“Can it wait a few minutes? I really want a quick talk with you”

She settled back down onto the settee, and I tried to spot any signs she was looking to run. Once again, my memories were haunting me, of sitting in the darkness outside the back door as Dad fed the hedgehogs and two carrier bags sat forgotten next to my chair.

“I am sorry, love. I didn’t think you’d be back, and I needed to let Nita see the house”

“She’s a policewoman, isn’t she?”

“She used to be. I was only eighteen when we first met. She was fine back then, and I think she’ll be fine now. You get what I am hoping to do?”

She looked down at her knees.

“Move on to the next girl that needs you”

“What? Oh! I see. You don’t need me anymore, then?”

“Ummm…”

“You think I sort you out, warm you up, push you out to make room for the next one? I have six bedrooms, Kim. I can always get twin beds in, or even bunks. I told you: this is your home for as long as you need it and as long as you want it. No shoving you out to make room. We’ve had this chat already. Now, we need to find a builder, someone who can put a door through that wall without making the whole house collapse. Any ideas?”

“Er, yes, actually”

“How would you… never mind. You think it through, but get back round to Ruth’s place. I need to pop out for a while, because I have Had an Idea, with capital letters, for next weekend, and I need to get some bits and pieces”

“What’s the idea?”

“Tell you over tea. What are you cooking?”

“You going by the supermarket?”

“Can do”

She rattled off a list of ingredients with a much happier grin, and I grabbed my lid, leathers and throwovers before heading out the door. I had worked out what she was looking at making, and thought that however bad it might turn out, I would smile as I ate it. Her self-confidence was most definitely at rock-bottom.

I sat listening to some old Fleetwood Mac after I got in, watching the clock with one eye and getting increasingly worried as she stayed out, until I heard the back door bang. Voices, more than one. Fuck.

It was Ruth, of course, along with Kim. I tried to force my heart back down into its proper place, realising that Nita’s musings had left me edgier than I had expected.

“Hiya, Deb! Not letting this one loose unsupervised, am I? And she admitted she hasn’t got the right pan anyway! I’ve brought another pudding, and I noticed the off-licence was still open”

“It would be open, this early in the evening”

“That was a hint, woman. Obviously too subtle for these biker types!”

I took the hint, as well as the order, and on my return, Ruth was showing Kim how to use a wooden mallet on some of the pork steaks I had picked up. I left them to it, feeling a lot more relaxed about my house guest, only looking into what seemed no longer to be my kitchen as Kim banged, breaded and cooked pork escalopes with a creamy mushroom sauce, with skin-on potato wedges deep-fried, and a simple mix of peas and sweetcorn from the freezer. The pudding turned out to be cheesecake, and together with the beers I had picked up at the offie it was a more than satisfying little feast. Ruth was as pragmatic as ever.

“She’s been after doing that dish for ages, Deb”

Kim was smiling.

“First thing I ever ate from you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but pork needs cooking thoroughly, or it can be dangerous. Not like beef or lamb. Didn’t want to risk losing my gofer, did I? Anyway, Deb?”

“Yes, love?”

“Our Kim here tells me you have a plan for the weekend. What do you have in mind?”

“Two things, really. A choice, in fact. I have two things I love doing--- Ruth, that was disgusting. How old are you? Get her some kitchen roll, Kim”

As the older woman wiped the beer from her chin, I laid out my plans.

“Choice of evils, girl, or delights, depending on what you think. First one is a rally; there’s one out by Cowbridge, not far from the pub we went to, with the open fire”

“Rally?”

“Biker camping weekend. Loud music, loads of booze, lots of people like me and Rosie there”

Ruth was nodding.

“And a distinct lack of decent food. Cheeseburger, or burger with cheese, or a bun holding cheese and a burger, or…”

Kim started singing softly.

“Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam---”

“Oh shut up! You and Python! Anyway, the other option is also camping. Up in the mountains. Bit of a ride, but it’s a lovely spot”

“Do you mean by Snowdon?”

“That area, yes”

“Never been there. Just seen the pictures, and it looks lovely”

Ruth was still digging.

“You know what they say, Kim, about Snowdonia?”

“What?”

“The mountains are beautiful. If you can’t see them, it’s because it’s raining. If you CAN see them, it’s about to start raining”

The rest of the evening carried on in the same silly manner, but Kim’s decision should have been predictable. She didn’t really want to spend a whole weekend stuck in a crowd, especially if a lot of them were going to be drunk.

She had never seen the mountains, and really wanted to.

The waterproof top and gaiters I had found for her needed testing.

The last reason, the main one, only came out when Ruth had left us for her own flat: the chances of her meeting someone who knew ‘Barry’ would be much lower on a mountain campsite. There was logic there, her earlier panic almost forgotten in a mess of breadcrumbs and sliced mushrooms, and I found myself relaxing again, with the exception of a small inner voice asking me how I would cope with more than one guest if the single person I now had was leaving me so fretful.

The weekend was a long one, as the shift pattern left me finishing work on Thursday evening and not due back till two on Tuesday afternoon. I managed to get the tent and two sleeping bags onto the rear carrier, along with two lightweight blow-up mats. Th rest of our kit was distributed around the two throwover panniers and a tank bag, and by nine in the Friday morning we were rolling. I had some old stretchy walking trousers, a bit like thick tracksuit bottoms, that just about fitted Kim, when the waist drawstring was pulled tight, and she surprised me by insisting on taking some make-up in the small Karrimor rucksack she was using. Once on the bike, I told her to slacken the shoulder straps so that the base of the rucksack sat on the luggage behind her, and so spared her shoulders from strain as well as avoiding having her head forced forward by the pressure of the bag on the back of her helmet.

I didn’t push it on the roads out of the city, but I did let it out a bit when we hit the M4, and for once there was no side wind as we crossed the big bridge. I could feel Kim moving around on the pillion as she did her own tourist rubbernecking, so I was even more grateful for the lack of buffeting. Off by Worcester, I took a slightly different route up the A449 to Kidderminster, Bromsgrove and then the place of my rebirth. There were some services as we joined the A5, and I took a break there to top up on some fluids after disposing of a different one

I sat with Kim in a corner of the chain café there, disposing of a cafetiere of half-decent coffee and doing my best to explain how my life had changed only a couple of miles away.

“That’s what I meant, what Nita meant, love. Paying it forward. I saw you in that pile of wet cardboard, and I saw myself. This place will always be special to me”

That brought a grin.

“I don’t think it’ll be like that for me, with that alley. Are you going through the town?”

“Not this time, love. Used to, before this bypass was built, but we’ve still got some way to go. Get some miles behind us. You doing OK so far?”

Another grin.

“That bridge was ace!”

“Well, there’s better stuff to come. When we get a lot closer, I’ll pull over, if the weather stays fine. There’s a particular view I want to show you”

Off we went again, skirting Shrewsbury before the reasonably quick roads through to Oswestry, Chirk and its aqueduct and then the twistiness I always enjoyed as we entered Wales again. I hit the same spot Dad had shown me, pulling in by the Geeler Arms, and staying on the bike as I pointed out all the hills, for once uncovered under a blue sky. I managed to spot Tryfan, and once I was certain Kim knew which lump it was, I patted her knee.

“That’s our campsite, girl. Right at the foot. Ready?”

She didn’t stop squirming all the way to the gateway, so I stopped at the entrance and asked her to get off, as I really didn’t want to drop the bike on the cattle grid. I pointed out my favourite ‘convenient rock’ and asked her to walk over to it as I rolled slowly over the grid and along the gravel track.

To my gratification, there was a familiar orange ridge tent there, unoccupied for the time being, and I quickly checked for the associated parked car. Yup. I pulled up in front of the farmhouse wall, and set the bike on its sidestand after stepping off, stretching my back to ease the kinks.

A small figure was emerging from the side door, tweed jacket and flat cap as unchanged as the surrounding hills, and I waved hello, getting a smile in return.

“Croeso, Deb! Spotted her tent? She’s off up Dafydd today, she said”

“Thanks, Mr Williams. Brought another friend with me this time”

“She sensible?”

“She will be. First time here for her, isn’t it? Won’t be taking her anywhere difficult”

“Well, you pitch your tent. Pat has plans for tonight. I think we can squeeze you in. What’s your friend’s name?”

“Kim”

“Skinny thing. She’s not sick?”

“Not now. Just recovered from some nasties, not far off pneumonia, so I am really glad we’ve got weather like this”

He nodded.

“Aye. Pitch your tent, then; you know where things are. I would eat early, ah?”

He ambled off, and I settled down to getting our camp just so, tent up, bags lofting and a pan of water on the stove as I left Kim to do the lung-work on the air beds.

“Why me?”

“Good for your lungs, girl! Ah. I can see my friend coming, in the powder-blue T-shirt. Quick bit of advice, Kim: what you tell her about yourself is up to you, but she is someone you can trust. I am telling her nothing beyond your name; the rest is up to you. If you want to stay my cousin, that’ll be fine”

I stuck my arm up above my head, waving to Pat, and she stopped dead, hands on hips, then flung her arms wide in welcome. A minute later and she was hugging me hello as the pan rose to a boil and she produced the lid from her thermos with a wink.

“Kim, Pat here will drink tea until it leaks out of her ears. Pat, this is Kim, who is staying with me. Kim, this is my old friend Pat. If you ever want to know about the hills round here, she’s the one to ask”

“Hiya, Kim! What are you doing with Debbie? College?”

The younger woman bowed her head, her reply low, and barely audible.

“Hiding from my Dad”

“Right… Kim?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t need to know anything else, OK? Tell me what you want, when you want to. When you’re ready. Debbie?”

“Yeah?”

“You warm my heart, love, always. Now, we need to eat. I’ve got plans, and I can include you two, if you want. Got your usual mix of food?”

“Rice and stew? You know me so well. Mix and match?”

“As always. Oh, and I succumbed. I’ve bought a bigger stove, a double burner. Want to give me a hand setting it up, Kim? While Debbie does the brews?”

It was obvious what she was offering Kim, and that was a chance to say anything she might not want to do in front of me, and yet again I marvelled at the depth of Pat’s generosity. They muttered away for a while, and then Kim started laughing.

“Debbie?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s music on in Bethesda tonight, Pat says, and she’s offered to drive the farmer and his missus down so he can have a pint. Room for us, she says”

“So what’s the joke?”

“Remember telling me about that time at that folk club in Cardiff? This is a folk club as well, and Pat doesn’t know what language it will be in!”