CHAPTER 20
I woke in a warm fuzz, my bag snug around me and my bladder, for once, not that insistent. I slithered out of it nonetheless, and after I had done the necessary, I started a trawl through the food left ready for breakfast by the Woodruffs.
That term finally made sense to me, for Steph was now so clearly right in her skin, content as she was, and if someone who shared a bed with her had no issues, then why should I? I decided I would keep telling myself that until I was convinced.
Kettle on, pans heating on the gas range and oven on ready for the sausages. Fry them first before finishing in the oven… black pudding? Laver bread? Where on Earth had they found that? More to the point, how to cook it?
The toilet flushed again, and Geoff joined me in the kitchen, as I stared at the seaweedy stuff.
“Don’t worry, Mike. She’ll sort it. Rolls it in some of the porridge and fries it. You’ll need to get the other bag out of the fridge”
“What other bag?”
“The cockles, of course”
He couldn’t keep the poker face for long, and what seemed to be a trademark grin resurfaced quickly.
“She got fed up with Jimmy. He does that over-the-top accent thing”
“I’ve noticed”
“Hard not to. And he’s always teasing about food, coming up with things we’ve never heard of, so she decided she’d try and outdo him without having to risk the family tastebuds. In other words, that seaweed might not all disappear. That kettle done?”
“Seems so. I’d warm the pot first”
“Will do. Can I be personal, Mike?”
“Depends what about”
“Us, really. Me and Hairy”
I must have looked puzzled, because he waved an apologetic hand.
“Sorry. Nickname for her, from when she goes overboard in her playing. Her hair goes everywhere. You knew her before I did”
“Not really. I knew some… Sorry about saying this, but I knew some pisshead of a misery who did stupid things. I didn’t know her”
“I understand. That wasn’t really what I wanted to ask, though. It’s more… Look, just observation. My family, well, there are reasons. We tend to be able to spot folk in, well, people who might welcome a smile, bit of comfort”
He paused, shaking his head.
“Sorry, but this is coming out all shite and patronising. Let’s just say our family had an issue. Steph helped sort it, but she wouldn’t have been, we wouldn’t have spotted her, if things hadn’t, you know. In the first place. So what I am leading up to is, well, what happened? In your life? Penny gave us the story of That Place, and let us know how you’d helped. It’s just, well…”
Another long pause, another shake of his head, and he simply turned away to pour three mugs of tea, speaking with his face turned away from me.
“Steph mentioned Melanie, the woman who was murdered. There are a lot like that, I have learned, and we both ended up, like I said, able to spot the wobbly ones, and that is what she called you. You said about your wife, and what my girl said to me was, well, you’re wobbling. Steph said it was like looking into a mirror and seeing her old self. That’s really the personal bit, Mike. Are you okay, and is there anything we could offer?”
He turned round, a mug in his left hand.
“Just going to give her this, then we’ll finish sorting the brekky. No need to answer my question; just letting you know, and hoping I haven’t offended you. Back in a few”
He left to deliver the tea, and I finished setting everything going on and in the stove. There was a series of raucous coughs, and then I was joined by Jimmy, a cigarette in his hand.
“Gorra spare one there for us, son? Just gannin’ oot for a tab”
Sod it. I passed him one of the two full mugs before finding an empty one for myself and pouring from the pot. Geoff was back just as Jimmy left, reaching over to give a stir to the pot of beans, and I reached over to squeeze his shoulder, hoping he read the message correctly: no offence taken. I realised I was the one who was taking his time to get there.
Steph was with us a little later, hair in a tangle, and my decision about taking time was given a kick in the arse by the way Geoff kissed her good morning. Shift that viewpoint, Michael.
She did indeed sort the sloppy green slime, and when Jimmy reappeared, the stink of cigarettes strong on his breath, she made a comment about the food.
“Got no pernackity, nor carlings or stotty, but we have got bara lawr. Your turn, Mister Kerr!”
He stared at the objects she was now frying, then grinned in an absolutely natural way.
“Ah think ye might just have outbid us, pet!”
She stared him down.
“You saying you’re bottling out of eating this?”
“Nah! Gie’s a bit, but make sure there’s some left in case Ah like it”
That was the keynote of the meal, and when Keith arrived in his climbing gear, he raised the stakes further.
“Right, you two! There is no room in your van for four. Mr Woodruff. There are, however, two pillion seats going, and me and Pen, we haz gots spare lidz”
Geoff looked worried, but Keith shrugged.
“Parking’ll be easier at Pen y Pass on the bikes. And neither me nor Mike has killed anyone on a bike. Yet. Right, Mike?”
The silence must have made the point, for he blushed at the obvious dropped bollock, so I cut in before it got stupid.
“I’m bigger than Mike, so best Steph comes with me. We doing this, then?”
She stood up, arms folded.
“You saying I’m fat?”
The complaint was ruined by her collapse into snorts of laughter, but she still chose my pillion as we set off.
I had yet another example of Keith’s ‘feet under the table’ approach when we were allowed to leave our gloves, helmets and other stuff in a back room in the Gorphwysfa building before setting out along the Miners’ Track.
A boggy walk to the pipeline, a weird full-body roll across the horrible thing, and there was the slab. I was pleasantly surprised, realising that if the slab had been more visible, it would not only have been less vegetated as a result of being far more popular. We did a few Diffs and V Diffs to get the feel of the place, before moving onto the ‘signature’ VS that went up a very plant-bedecked slab, mixing and matching partners as the day moved on. I knew Keith’s style, of course, and I was well aware of Steph’s abilities, even if it had once been when she was clearly pissed, so it was Geoff I was watching.
He was clearly new to VS and upward, and I wondered if he was simply trying to please his wife, but then realised that he had superb balance, and quite a nice technique. It wasn’t that he was chasing Steph, but more that she was offering him a chance to take that next step.
Another shift In perception.
It was a very good day, on rock I would have missed despite its delights, and more to the point I could see some lines that weren’t recorded in the guide book. Mine, mine, my precious.
My return to Sheffield left me pondering as I sat in my usual armchair, out of my leathers and clutching a mug of tea, a fish supper on my lap, half-watching some TV crap or other; when I was back in work, I had to handle Kul’s questions.
“How was it, then? Lots of silliness on the rocks?”
“Um, not that so much. Got… need to say something in confidence”
Kul shrugged, but he was staring at me, brow slightly furrowed.
“I know--- I HOPE you know and trust me enough for that. What happened?”
“Remember the ginger misery?”
“Fuck, yes!”
“Well, I met them properly, this trip. Mate of Keith and Pen’s, now”
“They cheered up, then?”
“Oh god, yes. I think her husband has really helped”
Kul paused for around a minute before speaking again.
“Coffee room, now”
He led the way, and took his time making us each a brew before his next words burst out.
“What the fucking hell are you on about?”
I shrugged, waving my hands.
“Sorry, mate. Messy, complicated. Turns out our miserable friend is transgender. Came out, both as in coming out as herself and out the other side of the miseries, got married to a man, stuff like that”
He was shaking his head, so I held up a hand once more.
“Yes, I know. Join the club. It’s just, when you see her with er husband, it makes sense, And yes, the she/her shit makes sense. Can you see how that works?”
He shook his head.
“Mike, not being dense, yeah? And it’s not you, but, well, not sitting that well with me. Not saying---just can’t see it. Have to see it, me, see things in the flesh, that sort of thing”
I nodded, to his evident agreement.
“Same here, mate. If Keith or Pen had just come out with it, said to me what the score was, well, no. Just, well, dropped into it, then seeing them with each other, and a friend of theirs. They cadged a spot in the bunkhouse as well, so we had breakfast and a day of climbing together”
“Shit…”
I reached into my fleece pocket for my little digital camera.
“I have stuff on here, Kul. Might help. Here… Pen snapped this one when I did a floor spot”
“Right--- shit! That’s Jimmy Kerr!”
“Yup. Seems he’s a friend of theirs. That’s Ginger and hubby, I mean, and that’s them behind me”
“Shit again, then. Those… Those real?”
He made a gesture at his chest, and I nodded.
“Looked like it”
His eyes opened wider.
“When they were in the bunkhouse, they didn’t, you know? Hide the whatsits?”
“I really don’t think I want an answer to that one, and I also don’t think you should be bloody asking it!”
I got a ghost of a grin.
“We each have our ways of coping, Mike. Now, what’s that stuff?”
“Welsh breakfast stuff”
“Looks gopping”
“It wasn’t bad. And think about what black pudding is, and you happily eat that”
“Yeah, but I’m a Yorkshire lad”
“Kul, mate, you’re from Leicester”
“Adopted Yorkshire, then. Still counts”
He was running through the pictures as he joked, obviously as his way of coping, and he ended up at a picture I had taken at the slab in Cwm Dyli. He simply sat staring at the camera screen as I sipped my tea, then handed the thing back to me.
“That shot has it, Mike. They’re just sitting grinning at each other”
“And?”
“If you want my guess, just then, well, I don’t think there was anyone else around but the two of them. At least, not that they were noticing”
He busied himself with emptying his cup, then grinned, almost back to his usual self.
“At least that solves one problem I didn’t realise I had”
“Oh?”
“Now I know how I can get my Jimmy Kerr albums signed!”
Comments
laver bread the Welsh 'delicacy'
not my favourite item on the menu, for delicacy read weird stuff the locals won't even eat!
Madeline Anafrid Bell
Philistine!
It should be fried in bacon fat and served with bacon sausage, egg etc, and of the fry up is probably the healthiest thing on the plate.
Angharad
I don’t think there was anyone else around but the two of them.
cool stuff
First Time
I ever heard of laverbread was reading this. When I was a little kid we used to go down to the rocks east of Brighton to gather cockles, winkles (periwinkles) and mussels. This was during rationing post-war (WW2 for you young'uns) and Mum would boil them all up for supper. That got rid of the sand. We used a safety pin to get the winkles and cockles out of their shells. The mussels opened themselves.
My Dad loved black pudding so that was another delicacy that I was introduced to early on. Seaweed, however, was not on the menu. He also loved tripe and onions, which I hated. Whale meat too, I couldn't eat. Mum, being a Cockney, loved jellied eels, another of my pet hates.
When I think back it's amazing how we found stuff to avoid rationing that people just don't eat any more. Remember bread and dripping, with salt on top? Condensed milk sandwiches? Rabbit? Pearl barley in the soup?
I do understand Kul's reaction to the revelations about the Woodruffs. If you haven't come across relationships like theirs before, it can be hard to get your head around. I remember being stunned when I first saw two gay men greet each other with a kiss. Now, I wouldn't look twice.
“I wouldn’t look twice.”
I know, right? However dark things have gotten right now for LGBTQ+ people, and they absolutely have, it’s only because things had actually improved a lot, and some folks just can’t bear to see it. We’ve grown far more accustomed to seeing people in same-sex relationships, and now, to seeing people who are openly trans. The term didn’t even exist when we were young.
Well, I’ve caught up with our intrepid author, so my lovely binge read has come to an end and I’ll have to wait for my lolly like the rest of you lot. ;-) Like my hero Inigo Montoya, I hate waiting!
Emma