CHAPTER 64
I pulled into the Shell garage, of course, a little way short of the Waterloo, leaving the girls to watch the van and fend off any approach from the staff about free parking by promising a fill-up when I got back. I wanted to be absolutely sure it was only this particular Daddy Dearest joining us, rather than risk the presence of Alicia’s mother. I didn’t really believe that was likely, but that recent loss was still burning a painful wound in my soul.
I spotted him from some distance, sitting on the low stone wall next to the pay-and-display machine, a cardboard beaker of coffee or tea beside him. Just the one, and no sign of anyone else nearby;
I turned on my heel and returned to the van. As soon as I had topped the tank up, I asked Alicia for her final decision.
“Looks like he’s on his own, love. Your call, now. We can simply drive past, if you’d prefer. You don’t need to do this unless it is what you want. Yes or no?”
The other girls were paying close attention, but Alicia’s was apparently directed at her knees, her voice so soft I had to strain to hear it.
“Got to do it, Debbie. Please hear this right. Please. I don’t want to stay with you. Not if I can get my family back, I mean, and that’s the only reason I say… You understand what I mean, don’t you?”
“Yes, love. Absolutely. But you only do this if you are sure. Really sure”
She looked back u, eyes damp.
“I’m sure”
“Okay. We drive up the road, then, and everyone stays in the bus. I will talk to him, and, sorry love, if I get the wrong signals, we drive off”
“What if he follows us?”
I showed her my blade.
“Difficult to do that with a couple of slashed tyres, isn’t it. Won’t come to that, though. All set? Everyone?”
I got a chorus of assent.
“Let’s do this, then”
I drove the short distance to the hotel, pulling into their own parking area before walking back to the public one.
“Mr Wallis?”
He jerked upright at the sound of his name.
“Er, yeah? I mean, that’s me”
“Right. A few rules before we go any further, then”
“Oh! You the one looking after… looking after my daughter?”
A little more trust bubbled up in me..
“Yes I am. My name is Debbie Wells. What are you planning?”
“Not that much. I could only get a week off work, so no idea, really. Alicia said you are planning on doing some hillwalking and that. Bought a tent, and some boots and, er, well, she said you like music… so I brought my guitar… What are these rules?”
I suddenly found myself warming to him, as his nervousness was so open and clear to me.
“Pretty simple, really. You accept my girls as they are, all of them. You don’t ask questions about their backgrounds, where we live, anything like that. If they want to tell you anything personal, that will be their choice. And you don’t keep any photos with anyone in unless they agree”
“What if I were to say no?”
“Then I slash all your tyres and we drive off”
Suddenly, he was laughing.
“Shit! She did say you were a protective woman! I agree, then”
I smiled back at him.
“Trust me: you don’t know the half of it! I’ll be pulling out of the hotel car park, in a white Transit minibus tuck in behind, and we’ll get rolling. Been up this way before?”
“Yeah; my own Dad used to take me to a campsite by some twin lakes”
“Ah, we don’t turn off there. Past all the shops and keep going, long straight and the campsite has a ‘no dogs’ sign. Friends should be there already, a couple of six-girl tents up. There is a space booked for you, so if the site owner says he’s full, just tell him you’re with Debbie”
He insisted on shaking my hand, and just before I turned to cross the road again, he called after me.
“Debbie?”
“Yes?”
“Can you help me not stuff this up, please?”
I nodded, and returned to the van, Alicia’s eyes not the only ones burning into me.
“Think we’re on a winner there, love. Let’s boogie!”
Out onto the main road, and I checked my mirrors. One car only, one head visible. I made myself relax a bit, and started calling off the landmarks as we rolled through Capel Curig and round past Pen Llithrig yr Wrach and Gallt yr Ogof to the long straight, indicating early for the benefit of Alicia’s Dad. Over the cattle grid, and there were two of the larger scout tents as well as three familiar two-person ones, Pat waving happily at us. I parked against the farmhouse wall, disgorging my flock, and went straight into a hug with my old friend.
“Cathy and Nell?”
“They’re up on the rock. Seems they’ve been bitten badly, really got the bug. Who is that with you?”
“Dad of one of the girls. Sort of trial reunion process. Think he’s okay, but I will be watching. One word of warning, though: apparently, he has brought his guitar”
She winced.
“Well, Friday night is the usual down the Cow, so we can persuade him to save it till then. Any ideas for where you want to go?”
“Oh, Pyg Track then Lliwedd? Don’t want to terrify them, but gets us away from the tourists on the second bit, and…”
We carried on sharing plans, as we chivvied the girls into setting out heir own kit, filling kettles, and so on, and it was ages before I realised Alicia’s father was still sitting in his car. I walked over, and he wound the window down at my approach.
“Not got a tent after all, then, Mr Wallis?”
“Alun. Please. Yes, in the boot”
“Best get it up, then. Unless… nerves?”
He nodded, then added, in a very small voice, that he didn’t have a clue how to put it up, as he had literally just bought it in a Betws outdoor shop. I did my best not to laugh, and almost managed to hold it in, but I made a most definite snort as he brought out the tent, a Terra Nova two man that must have cost a fortune.
“AH-LICIA! RAY-CHEL! EM-MA! MAY-ZEE!”
Four girls were quickly at the car, two grinning and one looking suddenly shy.
“Rachel, Emma, Maisie: this is Alicia’s Dad. And Alicia, you already know that. Now, he is being shy, because he has bought a brand new tent, and he doesn’t know how to put it up. Let him do the work, but I am trusting you three to supervise him and take the mickey as appropriate. Pat?”
“Yup?”
“What was the plan for feeding tonight?”
“Got loads of stew and stuff in. Thought we could hit the chippy tomorrow”
I turned back to… Alun. Yes.
“Your payment for our services is a drive out tomorrow night, down to Bethesda for some chips for everyone”
“Okay. Do these girls know how the tent goes up?”
“No idea, have I? But I do know that Maisie used to do Meccano and that, and all four of them can read instructions, and those tents always come with a full set. Now, I am sure Pat has the kettle on, so once sorted grab a cuppa, and then we might just have a stroll up to the Perving Slab!”
I got a very puzzled look from Alun, but Maisie was already in full flow. Her nerves clearly having evaporated in the time she had spent with me and the others.
“It’s a place where they do all rock climbing stuff, and Pat says that Cathy and bell are up there with their boyfriends, and… well, Debbie?”
“Yes, love?”
“Should I explain why we call it the Perving Slab?”
“Place where some of my girls like to go to watch the climbers, and especially the very fit ones in tight shorts and no shirts”
“Ah…”
I had a suspicion I might just have pushed him a little too far, too early.
“Maisie?”
“Yes, Nana?”
“Could you girls sort out the tent? I think I need to have a little stroll with Alun here”
“No problem!”
I took him over to Pat’s little field kitchen.
“Pat, Alun. Alicia’s Dad, my very old friend, or at least long-term one, before she slaps me. Got some tea ready, love? We need a little chat, just me and Alun”
She quickly sorted us a couple of mugs, and I led him past the house to the ladder style over the wall to the old track, where we found an outcrop to sit on, the mountains soaring around us.
“Sorry about that, Alun. Hitting you with so much”
He was staring at his tea intently.
“Perving Slab. Is that the way she, well, swings?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. Most of my girls are straight, but one or two I’m not sure about, and one says she isn’t. Alicia will tell us when she feels it’s right to do so. Not going to push her”
“She said a lot about you, Debbie. At Christmas. And yes, I do know what happened to the other girl. Please believe me that I am not like that”
I stared hard at him, but could see no signs of him simply saying what he thought I wanted to hear.
“And Alicia’s mother? How is she?”
He winced.
“Yes, well. We all make mistakes in our lives, and I am just trying to put one of mine right. What do I do if she starts, you know; if she brings a boy home?”
“Do you love your child, Alun?”
“Oh god, yes!”
“Do you love your daughter?”
He looked down.
“I am learning how to, slowly”
“Good answer, Alun. Slowly and steadily, but please give her some smiles this week”
He turned to look at me, once again.
“She said that you were a fierce woman, Debbie Wells. She also said you were more full of love than anyone she had ever met. Thank you”
I turned it into a joke, or tried to.
“She doesn’t know she’s on dishes duty tonight, then! Come on; your tent should be up by now”
Yes, it was, and no, my students weren’t back, and so we made a procession to the appropriate lumps of rock opposite the slab, and my girls giggled and joked, especially after we spotted four familiar faces halfway up, which led to jokes about Nell having her top on, as well as some extremely extended word play on the words ‘point’ and ‘pointless’.
The quartet were soon down with us, introductions made and squealing people being taken up the easier bits at the end of ropes, including Alun, before we all descended to the site once more, and a solid meal of instant mash and stew.
He did actually have a guitar with him, and to my surprise, he wasn’t bad. Not up to Peter’s standard, but then Peter was a pro; Alun was a strummer and singer, but he knew more than a few songs that we could all join in with, and we ended up with other campers wandering over to join in.
We did go up the Pyg Track to the Snowdon summit, all apart from the student quartet, who just had to go across Crib Goch, to nobody’s great surprise. What did surprise me was that Pat insisted on going along with them, seeming far more cheerful than she had on certain other days. We regrouped at the summit station, grabbing a cuppa each before the traditional queue-up-the-steps for the summit itself and then the shuffle down the awkward bits of the Watkin Path until we could start the final climb to the twin summits of Y Lliwedd, the numbers of fellow walkers dropping off steadily as we moved off the tourist motorways, just as I had hoped. There was an odd little cloud of flying insects on the first of the two tops, and I walked a little away from them, revelling in the thousand-foot drop in front of me as I watched a long line of people in the distance making their own crossings of Crib Goch. Alun came over to me, the top of his T-shirt soaked in sweat, strands of hair glued to his forehead.
“How much further, Debbie? Not used to this, am I?”
“Ah, another top, no real problem, then round the back of that little one, and… see the track down there by the lake? Along that to the car park again. Cup of tea and back to the site. You doing okay?”
He gave me a slightly twisted smile.
“Not used to anything here, Debbie. Not the hills, I’m sure you can tell, but, well, watching my daughter, with her friends. Not used to that. Not used to feeling so bloody stupid”
“Stupid? What for?”
“Not seeing her earlier, Debbie. I must have been blind. She’s right there, now. Just another teenage girl”
“Young woman, now, Alun”
He looked at me, giving me a sharp nod.
“Absolutely. No room for doubt there. Now, are you able to help me get it right from now on?”
Sod it. He got a hug, and after we had straggled over the last two little rises and the rough path down to rejoin that tourist motorway once more, he ended up walking to the car park beside Alicia, hand in hand.
Comments
Familiar places.
And what feels strange is that I had familiar intensities of feeling. Different feelings of course, but the depth and intensities of my introspections were certainly curative.
Strange how mountains do that. The vast vistas seemed for me to contrast the inner views I was having concerning my life and a hoped for way forward. The mountain paths were steep, rocky and sometimes dangerous, (much as my life's paths had been,) and on reflection I think I subconsciously chose such paths to try and test myself. Still not sure if I've passed my own self inflicted and possibly self-indulgent tests.
self inflicted and possibly self-indulgent tests.
so that's why you've been doing 50km bike rides is it? Not of course that i'm one to speak (mumbling something about 60km being short)
I like mountains but there's not even a half decent slab near here! Never done Snowdon and given its popularity, i probably never will, i prefer a bit more solitude!
Madeline Anafrid Bell
If I were still as mobile
I could show you places in the National Park where you would be out and alone, with views to die for. Even something as simple as Pen yr Helgi Du ('Black hound peak) by way of Y Braich, or Foel Goch, or Cwm Lloer, or Craig Aderyn in Cwm Dyli. Even a little roadside top like Crimpiau can give that experience.
You just need to know where the little pockets of solitude are, and it is surprising how they can sitt unnoticed, cheek by jowl with the honeypots.
Cnicht
the northern and lowest peak in the Moelwyns looks like a dramatic peak (the Welsh Matterhorn, no less) as seen from Porthmadog, but it's actually a long ridge, and the walk up from Croesor is so easy a toddler could manage it. It's quiet, Cwm Croesor is a dead end so there's very little traffic. There are ravens. You can see Snowdon and on a very clear day, the Irish coast. The north-facing slopes are broken moorland with very few paths. Long ago, when the village school was still open, you could sit on the summit and listen to the children playing in the tiny school-yard. (Cnicht has the peculiar distinction of being a very Welsh mountain with an Old English name which today's English think is Welsh and can't pronounce).
Speaker
I've
done a fair amount of hillwalking over the years, across Wales, southern Scotland and most of upland England - usually in search of archaeology - there certainly are plenty of quiet places but they are getting fewer - Covid hasn't helped on that score. The issue with Snowden is that everyone thinks they need to climb it - usually at the same time and made easier by the railway!
I like a good slab to sit on and enjoy the views in relative solitude, if i want to be in a crowd i'll head to the High Street not a mountain!
Madeline Anafrid Bell
High Street
...is, of course, a mountain. [/pedant[
I remember one early Easter, lots of snow on the ground, staying in Pen y Pass youth hostel, where an American visitor asked if the sheep were wild. Cwmffynnon is a vast bowl and lake above the hostel, and there are paint splotches on the rock to guide you up the back of Glyder Fawr. There is a slightly tilted slab of rock there, which I used for some sun-worship in the still air before heading up to the summit, doing both Glferau, Cantilever and Castell y Gwynt before heading back down, intending to continue straight across the road and up the Pyg track to the summit of Yr Wyddfa/Snowdon (I was incredibly fit back then, forty years ago).
As I came down, I could see that they were running one of the steam locos, obviously having dug the track clear, the smoke pluming against the blue sky. I could also see the knot of darkness that was the crowd on the actual summit. 'Sod that', I thought, and as I had my rock boots with me, spent the afternoon soloing along the blades of rock above the Pass.
A couple of days later, after more snow, I soloed Crib Foch to the summit, picking up a Dad-and-two-lads who were gripped partway along. They had a rope with them, but no idea what to use it for. When we came down by way of the Pyg, the really steep bit above the zig-zags was shiny hardpack, and looked absolutely lethal. I got Dad to belay me from the monolith by Bwlch Glas as I walked down in crampons, cutting steps for them before going back up and belaying them one by one to the safer bit.
Mr Expert Climber went past, laughing at me using a rope on the footpath, until he was halfway across... there came a plaintive call, and as the second lad untied on reaching the footpath, MEC tied on so I could belay him. Knob.
That point is a scooped out bowl, with deep trenches (trial levels) cut into the slope at the bottom, and when iced up, a slip would have meant an accelerating slide down a slope of some 2,000 feet.
Which is why I used a rope, crampons and ice axe.
are you able to help me get it right from now on?
bloody fantastic. and exactly what we (and Deb) needed after the bad stuff
Happy
That Alun came through with flying colours.
He's trying
Alun is at least making the effort to get to know his daughter and accept her. And it's making Alicia happy. But what will be done to keep mom from going off the rails? Deb would fall to pieces if mom totally flips out and hurts Alicia.
Others have feelings too.