CHAPTER 78
“Right, darling, these three pictures go together, because they are all wedding pictures. This one is me and your Dad, over on Rotto”

“That’s a golf place, Mum”

“Yes. One of our friends arranged it as a wedding present, and before you ask, not as a game of golf bit as somewhere we could all sit, somewhere nice, Oh, and this picture as well. Recognise it?”

“King’s Park, Mum”

“That’s right. We all went up there for photos. It’s traditional to do that in the city”

“Pretty dress, Mum”

My mind asked the obvious question, and I told it not to be silly. Ish was quite clear in his declarations about boys and girls, with never a hint of any tendency to head out after Alys. Maz was already onto the next picture, though.

“Is that Alan, Mum?”

“Yes, my darling. That was our wedding in Singapore. We had our photos taken in the Botanical Gardens”

“Why were you there, Mum?”

“In Singapore? I was a student, then worked there. Now, this is your Dad, and this lady is Carolyn”

“Where’s that?”

I interrupted before Maz could say That Name.

“It’s a place where I used to live in England, son”

“Do you want to go back there, Dad?”

I kept my reply down to “No. I like it here, with you and Mum”

Maz moved on swiftly, avoiding more shots of That Place and instead showing a rather attractive white house, framed in trees.

“Alan’s grandfather was a soldier, and when Alan’s father was little, they lived in Singapore”

“Why?”

“The British Army had bases all round the world then. All closed now”

“Why?”

How to unpick that one? Maz steered round it.

“It’s a long story, darling, so we’ll stick to the photos just now. Anyway, that house is where… where Alan’s father lived as a boy, so we went there to get some photos to compare with ones Alan’s grandfather had taken. That window there was Alan’s dad’s bedroom.”

She went through a few more scenic shots, but when she was describing the turtle pool in Penang, I noticed that her hands were starting to tremble, so took it with mine before starting on one of my own albums.

“This is a place called Wales, son”

“It’s all mountainy, Dad!”

“That bit is, son. It’s very pretty as well”

“Is there climbing walls there?”

“Some, but mostly it’s real climbing on real rock, outdoors”

Don’t mention rain, Rhodes.

“This is a place called Foel Grach. It was taken by someone who was already there when we arrived. And this one… This was taken by Carolyn. The climb is called ‘Seams the Same’. Maz?”

“Yes, love?”

“Could you pass me that album? The dark blue one?”

I flicked rapidly through the pages before turning back to the book I already had open.

“Now, I know that you’ve been reading ‘The Weirdstone’ because I bought it for you. This isn’t the place where the story is set, but it’s the same area. And they filmed ‘Princess Bride’ here”

“Is that the rock where Cadellin lives?”

“Close. It’s… lots of places there have ridges of rock, like long cliffs, and the local people call them ‘edges’. Cadellin’s place is Alderley Edge; this one is Stanage Edge, and this is me on a toute called ‘Flying Buttress’, a really popular climb”

“I reached for the other album.

“Same climb, son”

“DAL BUTT!”

My ears would recover later; at least, I hoped they would.

“Yes, that’s Dal and his own Dad. We all used to live near Stanage”

“Can I climb up there?”

I looked at Maz, eyebrows raised, and she answered.

“Dad has lots of friends in Wales and England, and when you’re a little older, it will be something we can do. It’s just a very, very long way. One of Dad’s… One of our friends from there came all the way here for our wedding, though. He took the really clear pictures for us. He’s called Neil and… This is Neil. He’s a very nice man and…. Got some of the Hiatts, love?”

I passed her a disc of photos Penny had sent, and Maz slipped it into the DVD drive on the TV.

“Dad? You want to drive this one?”

“Of course, love. Now… This is the top of the highest mountain in England and Wales, called Yr Wyddfa”

“Funny name, Dad”

“Wales has its own language. I can’t speak it, but these people can. That’s my friend Penny and Keith Hiatt. Vic and Nansi Edwards, and the two girls are Enfys and Alys”

“It’s all rainy, Dad”

“Yes, son. Wales gets a lot of rain, but we’ve all got waterproofs, see?”

“That’s a steamy train!”

“There’s a special railway goes from the valley right up to the top of the mountain”

“Can you ride it?”

“Yes. We prefer to walk up. It’s nicer”

“Can we ride the train when we go there?”

Maz laughed at his persistence.

“Yes! Yes you can ride it when we go there! Okay?”

“What’s ‘A Wuthuvver’ mean?”

Safer ground, and mine this time.

“Ah, it means a mound, a heap of soil, where somebody was buried. The whole mountain is supposed to be the grave of a giant. Hang on… Right. That cliff is Y Lliwedd, and halfway up it, King Arthur and his knights are supposed to be sleeping”

“Like in ‘Weirdstone’, Dad?”

“Exactly. Anyway, this giant wore a cloak that was made out of the beards of kings that he had killed, and he wanted King Arthur’s, but Arthur beat him, so that’s why the mountain is there. And… this is where the Lady of the Lake took his sword”

It was a reminder of his real age when I saw the wide eyes and absolute fascination. My boy was working his way through so many tales of Great Old Ones and tentacled Shamblers From Beyond and yet he could still be seized by a fairy story.

I found a shot of the girls on the ‘secret bridge’ and left it on screen as Maz and I went back to tag-team Ish through more pictures of our two lost ones, until we had both had enough, and she pulled out another of her own albums.

“This is your grandmother and grandfather, darling. They live in Kuala Lumpur, which is a city in Malaysia”

“Are we going to see them, Mum?”

“Well, Dad and I have offered to send your grandmother a ticket, so we hope so”

I was slowly confirming my suspicions that I would only meet the Mother in Law over---

No. Don’t think about dead bodies. Not now, I told myself hurriedly. I reached for my laptop and, as Maz inevitably brought out some bird pictures, I found some of Alderley online, and then took him through some of the places Alan Garner had mentioned in his books. Maz was starting to show more signs of strain as the memories bit into her soul, and my own inner voices were starting to wake. I got onto the mapping page.

“Ish?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“You might recognise this place name”

Maz gave me a grateful smile as she started to pack up the albums, but I stopped her with a raised hand.

“Can you leave those ones out, love? I have an idea. Talk later?”

She nodded, and then squeezed in beside Ish as I zoomed in on the map, and Ish yelped.

“Done Witch!”

“Er, Dunnitch, son. Spelled Dunwich, but you don’t say the ‘w’ in the middle”

“Why?”

“One of those odd things, son. But you know the name?”

“Is that where the Horror was?”

“Same name, but this is a real place, and it is very interesting. See? Just a little village, but it used to be a big city”

“What happened? Was it the Dunwich Horror?”

“No, just a very bog storm in the sea, bur… Here we are. This is a graveyard. Where they bury people. Anyway, the sea is washing the cliff away, and every so often, it takes a grave with it”

His eyes were like saucers, so I added, “And a coffin falls onto the beach”

“Oooooooh! Can I go and see?”

We were safely off the painful topic that I doubted would ever be completely healed, and my most-definitely-a-boy was all but licking his lips with anticipation. Maz closed down my laptop with a smirk, and sent him off to the loo.

“I could see him squirming, love. Too eager not to miss something he’d end up getting there too late. Anyway, are you sure you’re not giving him nightmares?”

“Love, he was just reading ‘The Rats in the Walls’. If that doesn’t give him nightmares, nothing will”

“Why that one on particular?”

I told her the plot, and her mouth fell open.

“What on Earth do we have for a child?”

I kissed her.

“An adorable one, love, and nothing more than that. Anyway: my idea with the photos. Would you mind if we try… This is such a complicated situation, but I think it might be the right way forward. I was watching you as you talked to Ish, and I was remembering something you said years ago. About Alan taking me for a pint. We’ve got such a load of baggage between us, and it’s all filed away like it’s some dirty secret”

She went to object, and I shushed her, gently.

“I know, love, but what you said, about it all being part of his history, our history. Family history, yes? Perhaps…”

Her turn to pull my head down for another kiss.

“If you are thinking what I suspect, then yes. I can pick up a couple of frames tomorrow, but we get copies of the photos, so the originals don’t get all faded and lost, like in that Eric Bogle song”

Our boy was back before we could get too expressively emotional, but three days later our living room wall bore two more wedding photos. Ish would know his family, we had agreed, no matter how extended, and if Mrs R wouldn’t engage, sod her.