After a serious bit of hugging, or maybe strangling, by our girl, he passed her to her brother as Enfys set his lid onto a bunk. Settling himself onto a chair after doffing his jacket, he simply held out a hand as Alys placed a cup into it.

“How was the ride, Neil?”

“Not a bad one, mate, but I’m on the Beemer today, so took it a bit more gently. Club tonight?”

Keith was nodding and grinning simultaneously.

“You were ambushed by Jimmy again, I hear”

“We were. Steph’s plotting, apparently, oh: speak of ginger devils!”

More hugs, more rattling of teacups and sharing of journey details, clothing appropriate for visiting bears, and so on, until I turned back to the subject of the club.

“Picking up where we left off, yes, Jimmy did say he had effectively been sent by that one grinning behind her mug. Are you saying it’s Jimmy again?”

“Not tonight, mate. Chrissy Morgan is the pro turn tonight”

“Wow! I’ve been playing her stuff to Maz. How did you get her to come out here?”

Enfys and Alys shared a look just before corpsing, so I played the eyebrows game.

“And? You have something to admit?”

Alys looked at her hands before speaking.

“She’s, er, a friend of Diane Sutton, and Lexie. They each gave her a call when we knew the date you’d be here”

Maz started laughing, and it was a few minutes before she had fully stopped, with occasional snorted words such as ‘Assimilated’ and ‘Borg’. I held up a hand for silence, or sanity, or something.

“I’ve already been ambushed at Little willy’s, so I realise there will be a lot of visitors tonight. Penny? Oh, some man called Alun, Wallis I think. I remember him from years ago. He’s here with that Debbie, said there’s fourteen of them”

Keith nodded.

“They’ve been there for a week so far. Usual older ones, a few new younger girls. Alun’s sound; I’ll make sure they keep a spot for him”

I turned to LC to explain.

“We have a lot of friends, love, as Mum told you. Lots of our friends have other friends, and we know some of them, but not all of them. Lexie knows the woman who will play us her music tonight, and the man who spoke to us when we stopped by the big mountain is another friend of theirs. He will have lots more friends with him, some of whom I know, some of whom I don’t”

“What will we do with them? The not friends?”

I shrugged.

“Probably make them friends as well, love. Speaking of which, is Pat up?”

Alys looked straight at her wife, whose face had fallen, all humour gone, and I knew, immediately.

“How did it happen, love?”

Enfys looked at Steph, who was similarly slumped in her expression, and the younger woman explained.

“We got the call, Uncle Mike, that’s us in the Rescue, ah? You know the shelter up on Foel Grach?”

“It’s where…” Caro and me “It’s where we met”

“Well, she went up for an overnight with Debbie, and… In her sleep. Steph was one of those who came up on foot, but we brought the doctor, and… Sorry. Still hurts. Doc said she was lucky. Peacefully, ah? In a lovely spot, with someone who loved her. The Cow…”

She paused to wipe some tears away, then forced a smile.

“Illtyd sorted out a little plaque for the bar, an ‘in memory of’ thing. All we could do. We took her back up so she could, as Debbie put it, dance on the wind”

Neil looked up sharply at that, and I understood immediately. Time to change subjects.

“Food for tonight?”

Nansi said something in Welsh, which her daughter translated as “Lamb stew, with loads of extra veg”, followed by Ish’s laughed “And the chip shop on the way home?”, and that broke the spell.

LC was in an odd outfit as we walked down the hill, wearing boots and her new hat and jacket over the top of her princess dress, Kawan on her back in his own harness. The meal had been a delight, but I was now focussed on getting outside a pint and hearing some decent music. There was a corner of the pub taped off for us, which we swamped, Kawan taking a seat on the window ledge, even more hugs, including some from a surprisingly emotional Illtyd, and there was, indeed, beer.

Illtyd was busy in the traditional way, filling a little list with the names of those willing or wanting to do floor spots, so of course I said yes.

“Dad?”

“Yes, love?”

“Are you going to sing again?”

“Yes, I am”

“Could you do that one you did before? The one about rolling? Kawan liked that”

“I can indeed. Anyway, I’m only allowed to do one song tonight, because there are lots and lots of people who also want to do songs or play tunes, but that one will work”

“Will you sing in English?”

“I have to, love. I don’t know anything else”

“Is that Welsh? What the ladies are speaking?”

Alys, Enfys and their mothers were having some sort of discussion, so I nodded.

“Yes, but I don’t know what they’re saying”

Illtyd was talking to a tall woman I recognised as Ms Morgan just as the pub door opened and Alun’s horde began to troop in, and he was far from the only man there. I recognised one couple as that pastry chef and---yes, the second ring was there—her husband, and of course I knew Debbie, who had her own man in tow, but so many of the girls were not only strangers to me but looked a little apprehensive. Their guardian had her usual ‘don’t even THINK of getting me upset’ expression, but Alun tugged her elbow and nodded at me, and it was sunrise on a Summer morning as her smile emerged from hiding.

The two of them came over to me, Alun nodding to the barman.

“Ga’i tri pheint Butty Bach, Dil?”, then called over his shoulder, “Frank! Mae peint yma i ti”

Debbie shook my hand, her grip firm.

“We read what happened. Mike. Be welcome, all of you. What happened to the cunts responsible?”

As in-your-face as ever.

“Um, I am told a firing squad”

“Good. You singing tonight?”

“I am indeed. My daughter… OUR daughter requested a song”

“Which one?”

“One by Roy Bailey”

“Rolling Home?”

“That’s the one”

“Mam and Dad loved that song, Mike. I’ll let Martie know, in case he’s planning on doing it. Same for you, Frank, love”

The tall man was beside her, that third pint in his hand and his other arm around her waist.

“Dunno, love. Mike, is it? The floor spot card’s got a bit crowded, I’m told. How would you feel doing a group spot? Same song, just with a couple of us?”

I couldn’t really object, and LC’s question came back to me: did we have friends everywhere?

“Who would that be, er, Frank?”

“Me and Martie. Alun’s got weedy lungs. Oh, that your boy? How’s his voice?”

“Fine, but I don’t think he knows the words”

“Not thinking of that, butt. You do the verse, we all join the chorus, try and outdo the audience, aye? Diana Ross and the Supremes sort of thing, just a lot more butch”

I could see why Debbie liked him, and left them to rearrange things with Illtyd as I returned to my family with my own order of drinks.

The first spasm was soon over, having included Enfys on harp playing some traditional Welsh stuff, Alun playing and singing ‘Norwegian Wood’, and Steph going slightly berserk through a set of Irish tunes, before Chrissy Morgan took her seat.

“You lot are evil! I have to follow THAT lot?”

She really knew how to work an audience, which pleased me, as all too many musicians record well but fall flat when playing live. She was funny, sharp in her observations, and excruciating in her puns.

“A couple of great friends suggested I play here tonight, so here, indeed, I am. Brace yourself now as you get hurdied and gurdied”

There were songs and tunes, on multiple instruments, and abundant jokes, and I was shocked when she announced the end of the first half: time hadn’t just flown, it had vanished over the horizon. I was at the bar with LC in the interval when she approached me.

“You’ll be Mike Rhodes, then And are you Carolyn? Hiya! Mutual friends send their best, Mike”

“I heard”

“You haven’t heard it all. I’ll need a hand, several hands, later. I’m parked up at your mate’s bunkhouse, so getting this lot up the hill is going to be fun on my own”

“How did you get it down?”

“Unloaded it here first, before parking up there. Do I look stupid? Don’t answer that”

She grinned.

“Keith’s already agreed on your behalf, anyway. Love the princess dress, Carolyn. See you later!”

She was off to the ladies’, and LC asked that question again, about ‘how many more friends’ we had.

“Look around you, love. I think it might be everyone here”

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Who’s Ish talking to?”

“That’s Mr Wallis, love. Alun. He sang earlier”

“No. I remember him. It’s the three ladies and another man”

“Ah, that’s a woman who makes cakes and things, and that’s her… That’s Marty, her husband, I think. I’m going to be singing with him and some other men”

“Why?”

“Because lots of people want to sing, and there’s only so much time for it before bedtime. They suggested Ish sings with me as well”

“Who are the other ladies?”

“I think one of them is Alun’s daughter. Don’t know who the other one is”

“Are they our friends? She keeps smiling at Ish”

Oh…

“We can ask Ish later, love. Now, it’s nearly time for the second half. Is Kawan still thirsty?”

“No. He’s had enough, but I haven’t”

It took me four runs to get the drinks back to our table, finishing just as Illtyd started the traditional ‘parish notices’ and drawing of the raffle, which was won by some of Debbie’s girls. A couple of other performers did their thing, and then I was out in front of everyone except for Frank, Marty and Ish, who whispered, “Remind me why I’m here, Dad”

“Chorus, son. That ‘Rolling Home’ song. Just harmonise with the others. Failing that, just shout, like you usually do”

“You are a sod, Dad”

“Yup. Evening, all! We have all agreed to combine our spots so that we can fit us all in, as it is such a popular evening tonight. I’m Mike, my son Ishmael, Frank, and Marty ---and Illtyd, it appears. It’s a chorus song you’ll know, and you certainly will by the end of it. Give it some oomph!”

As I started the first verse, there were a couple of shouts of ‘Yes!’ or similar, and when the first chorus came in, the volume from the audience just about matched that of my chorus. By the end of the song, there was no contest, so I simply sang the first verse again, and we stepped out of the spotlight to absolutely thunderous applause.

“What are you lot like? Bad enough following that lot in the first half, and now you serve up those lads? It’s not fair. I’m going to have to beat you down with the octave mando, so let’s banish your misfortune!”

It was a superb set, and once she had finished and started her last bit of CD selling, I let the others know of our imminent use as pack mules, and Penny chortled.

“Don’t bother, Mike. Illtyd’s already snaffled the bottle store for her. Just need a couple of hands to move the cases when she’s ready”

“Better tell her, then”

“I’ll do it, Dad. Have we got any of her discs?”

“We have all of them, son, but she’ll have a mailing list”

“Okay”

He was out of his seat like a rocket, calling back a request for another pint, and over to the little table, where he smiled at Chrissy, wrote on what was obviously said list, and then…

And then spent some time chatting with one of the girls who Carolyn had pointed out, and not the one I had marked down as Alun’s daughter. This one was all smiles, and as she asked one obvious question, she made a funny wave of her arms that I realised was meant to depict ‘climbing’, and my lad just nodded before pointing towards our table and holding his hand out palm down, which I guessed was his estimate of LC’s height.

I could almost read his mind as he spoke: ‘Yes, I climb, and so does my family, including my sister, who is only little’. That was fine, but I was a little surprised when the girl reached out to squeeze his forearm.

I had to mentally slap myself. If it was okay for Alys, and Steph, and poor dead Maddy, what was my problem?

I kept my counsel, in the end, as we finished our drinks, went next door to ‘Colin’s’ for chips to fuel our epic ascent to our beds, and I settled by our son as he paused to tie a lace.

“Sorry for dropping you in it like that, son. You enjoy it?”

“Bit nervous at first, Dad, but the others, you couldn’t see them, ey? They, it was all eye contact and nods, and it was… The harmony, Dad. Finding a different note that’s still the right one. And then the audience, wow!”

“It’s a great song for that, son. Simple enough to remember, no extremely high or low notes, and a chorus that just begs to be roared out as well as one to harmonise to”

“Absolutely, Dad. I couldn’t hear myself by the end”

“I heard you, son”

“You’re going to say I was rubbish, aren’t you”

“No, son. I was going to say we need to get some more songs learnt. Just one thing I did notice---”

“She’s called Clara, Dad. And yes, I know about her. You aren’t subtle when you stare”

“Ah. And what… How long are they here for?”

“Another week, then back to Cardiff”

“Which is where we will be going before we fly home, of course”

“Dad?”

“Son?”

“She’s… she’s nice. Am I being stupid?”

So much slammed into focus just then, as I realised how few chances he had been allowed for a normal adolescence. With his mother gone, presumed fucking dead, he had been my prop in so many ways. The Butts were always there for me, of course, along with all my other colleagues, customers and friends, but Ish had been the support, the only bit of his mother I had been allowed to keep, for all of his teens. I had never realised, never considered, what effect that must have had on him.

“No, son. Not at all. What was she asking you about climbing?”

“You heard?”

“I saw how she moved her hands, son”

“Ah. She said she liked to watch it”

I couldn’t help my snort, but apologised immediately.

“Sorry, son, but did she mention anything about a slab near their tents?”

“Yes. She said lots of climbers go there”

“So do most of her friends, son. To watch the climbers. The male climbers”

“Oh! You mean to, you know…”

“To watch and dream? Oh yes: they call it the Perving Slab. I rather think you have pulled, Ish”