We stayed in the car while Maz did her bird-naming extravaganza, listening to a new disc Ish had found in Bangor, before heading off to South Stack for more of the same, with the addition of LC’s insistence on counting every step from the top to the bridge over to the lighthouse, and Clara came to the fore just then, explaining what exactly a lighthouse was, as well as its purpose, while I filled the gaps by pointing out seals as well as some of the more famous climbs up the churned semi-rock of Mousetrap Zawn.

“What exactly is that…stuff, Dad?”

“I am told it’s sandstone, folded up, with quartzite intrusions. I just think of it as ‘cheese’, or, really, someone else’s route. Gritstone, it isn’t”

“Why do people climb it, then?”

“Same reason people climb chalk cliffs with ice tools, son”

Clara chipped in a quick, “Cause they’re mad?”

“Some are. Some just like a challenge, but some are, well, yes. That stop before Dagenham”

“Sorry? I’m from Cardiff”

“Oh: Barking”

Maz got her fill, partially at least, and we took a drive back to the main island for the run up to Cemlyn, which was a surprise, a lovely one. It was like a miniature Chesil Beach, a long shingle spit cutting a lagoon off from the sea, and there was a constant stream of various tern species in both directions, all seeming to be calling ‘Creak, creak!’. LC spotted that the ones heading for the lagoon all seemed to be carrying small fish, and that was her day made, at least that far.

We had lunch in ‘Clan Fair Twiddly’, Clara surprising me yet again by managing to say the whole of the name from memory, as well as translating it, which made Ish so smug he was almost unbearable, and then I made the almost final part of our journey past the Cow and up to the campsite. As we exited the car, LC came directly to me, looking stricken.

“Is Clara staying here, Dad?”

“Not tonight, love. She has to go home on Sunday, though”

“Kawan likes her. She’s nice. And she likes Ish”

She paused, then added something which asked questions I really didn’t want answered.

“Ish is good. I like having my brother. He would have stopped the man with the axe”

She ran off then, happy that Kawan and Ish would still have their friend for a couple more days. I called her back, though.

“Carolyn?”

“What?”

“Not want these?”

I was holding her little rock boots and harness, and of course I got a squeal that should have left my ears bleeding.

It turned out that the girls were having a rest day, which seemed, for most of them, to mean reclining at the foot of their Perving Slab and taking in the views, but several of them swarmed us as soon as they saw our gear, and it just became a day of toproped silliness, which was no bad thing in my view. Enfys had tested my limits a couple of days before; I was entitled to a little fun.

Alan, Scott and Leo confirmed they had combined their funds for a couple of minibus taxis back, so everyone was free for a different sort of fun that evening, which would be a floor spot only evening. We rounded off that day’s sort-of-exercise with a session of shower-queuing before the familiar walk down to the Cow, both Keith and Pen with us from the start this time, along with Alys and her parents. Maz asked the obvious question.

“No Enfys?”

Keith simply said, “On a shout. Could be a long one. Said she’d let us know if and when”

Pen shrugged, spreading her hands wide.

“Goes with the turf. Mike. Apparently, they’ve had to get the Llanberis lot out as well. I’ve put some bottled in the fridge for her. Just in case”

None of our group of adults needed to know the ‘What’ of ‘just in case, for three of us, to my knowledge, had helped recover what had once been a person from somewhere that had called to them like the Lorelei or Sirens, and in the case of myself, that had been four times.

“Will she be all right, Pen?”

Alys took my hand, squeezing it.

“I’ll be waiting for her in her old room, Uncle Mike. You understand, I know. Subject change, please. Clara: what sort of stuff do you like to read?”

The girl was startled, but she quickly caught on.

“Oh, I do love David Crystal’s writing”

Ish was chuckling as Alys started her ‘Who’s he?’ routine, but Ish interrupted.

“He writes about language and how it works, Alys. Clara is a Dane, I’m afraid”

The girl objected, quite reasonably, that she was Welsh, so Ish began his usual explanation of Fen versus Danes, those who were fans of SF and those who didn’t get it.

“So there’s this town in Lovecraft’s books called Dunwich, and there’s a place in England with the same name. ‘No tentacles there’, says Dad, when we went there, my first time over in the UK. Remember the zip wires, Alys?”

“Unfortunately, yes”

“Well, anyway. So there are no tentacle monsters in the real Dunwich, but then Dad shows me the nuclear test pagoda things nearby, so you never know for the future…”

Clara looked at her feet for a few moments, then said, “I did read one book, once, because… It was sort of a dream thing. The reason I read it, not the book”

Alys looked at Ish, who asked so, so gently, “What was the dream, Clar?”

Her gaze went off to the bulk of the mountain ahead of us.

“I think it’s… All girls like me, I think we all have a dream of waking up and everything being changed, being right. Being all sorted out. Never going to happen, but a nice dream to curl up with. This book, there were these hidden jewels, on this planet”

“Janus. It was called Janus, and the author was Andre Norton”

“Thank you! I’ve been trying to find it for ages”

Alys took her hand.

“There are actually two books, and you can get then for pennies as an e-book. I’ll send you the link. Oh, and Andre Norton was a woman, and her real name was actually Alice”

“Wow! Thank you so much. Oh, and I’m also reading a book Ish bought me in Bangor. Man called Pratchett. It’s about cats”

“Educated Maurice etc?”

“No, cats. Unadulterated ones. Got cartoons by Gray somebody”

Penny’s sudden laugh was raucous in the extreme, even for her.

“Gray Jolliffe, oh dear! Man who did that book ‘Man’s Best Friend’. Ish, you…”

Clara was lost.

“Was that one about dogs?”

Penny almost fell over, she was laughing so much, and Keith had to explain.

“Main character was called ‘Wicked Willie’, because not only was he wicked, as in cheeky, he was a willy”

“Do you mean a---?”

“An appendage like that mushroom we mentioned. Let’s just say he could have been called, to rephrase a cartoon name, Dastardly Dick”

Clara stopped dead, staring at Ish, who was now squirming with embarrassment.

“I didn’t know, honest, Clar!”

“Then I shall look forward to getting Janus from the internet and wicked willy from you”

A pause.

“That is not how I meant to say that. What’s tickled you, Mrs Rhodes?”

“Oh, Clara! You’re doing me!”

“How?”

“I have a long history of saying things that have two meanings, but not realising until it comes out of my mouth”

Her turn to pause.

“Er, a bit like that. Look, the pub door, our saviour. I want a pint of ale this time, Mr MBR, please”

Into our corner, Kawan onto his window shelf, meals ordered from memory, first pints down, and names onto Illtyd’s list as Deb’s people arrived, Alun with his guitar case, and the old and familiar routine ran its course. When my turn came, I gave them Cyril’s ‘Grey Funnel Line’ and later joined Ish, Illtyd and Marty for a rendition of ‘A Miner’s Life’. Before that, though, both Alun and Frank surprised me.

The former settled into a chair, with his usual jokes about people having time to escape while he detuned his guitar.

“Done this one before, and it’s still for a wonderful woman over there, and I will still never be Jarvis Cocker”

He jangled his way through that well-known Pulp song, before setting down his guitar, smiling, and saying that the next one was for his daughter.

By the time he had finished ‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face’ Alicia wasn’t the only one in tears. He didn’t have the purest of voices, but he took that song and made it his, and then gave it to her. What a man; what a father.

Frank’s moment came, and he spoke a few sentences in Welsh before launching into a real crown pleaser, ‘Yma o Hŷd’, Which had the crowd roaring along and Illtyd hugging him as he finished. Frank said something else, and Illtyd simply nodded.

“Dw i’n deall. Cer ymlaen”

Frank turned to the rest of us, smiling.

“Our good friend Alun sang his first song to my wife Debbie, so I am going to offer her another song, one she learned from her parents, one that was sung by our friends at our wedding, and one whose final words sum up her approach to life: be yourself, be good to those around you, and damn what fools might think. Please join in when you recognise it”

He settled himself and began a familiar opening.

“Come my own one, come my fair one…”

Various voices from other corners of the room joined in, one by one, Frank giving a little smile or nod to each, and by the time that very direct statement was given at the end of the song, that we were frolicsome and easy, good-tempered and free, and had no pins to give for the opinions of others, the whole pub was roaring, so Frank just wound his arm in the traditional gesture for ‘one more time’, and we managed to get even louder.

Several of the girls were cuddling his wife, who was in tears, but somehow grinning as well. Frank settled beside us, Illtyd handing him a pint as he passed, and Frank put it on the table before giving Deb a proper, no holds barred, kiss.

He turned to me with a smile.

“Your mate Neil, aye?”

I had to correct him on that point.

“OUR mate Neil, Frank”

“Aye, fair point. Anyway, I know you were worried, but what he has for her isn’t just the pics, it’s the obs. Obligations”

Ish muttered “Eric Frank Russell, Dad”

Frank smiled.

“Yes. We heard about that, and found the book, and it makes bloody good sense to me. Anyway, doesn’t matter what this idiot I married does for others, she always feels guilty that she can’t do, hasn’t done, more. Any chance to do that forward stuff, she’s there. Gives me all sorts of problems”

Deb pulled herself together enough to ask, “Such as?”

“How do I ever repay such a woman for agreeing to marry me?”

Deb laughed, wiping her eyes.

“You been talking to Charlie’s fella again?”

“Of course, my love. He gave me a high bar to aim at, after all. Mike?”

“Aye?”

“Illtyd has stood a round for the singers tonight. He’ll be back in a bit to ask what you and Ish want. Now, I know Debbie has told you about spaces in Cardiff, so I will apologise and say that our place is a flat over the bakery, otherwise I would be proud to see you there. We also have a folk club we like, but they are a Welsh language place. No worries for the non-speakers, not like that, but they do a good evening. Let us know, okay. Where are you taking Clara tomorrow?”

“Beddgelert, Porthmadog, Ffestiniog and Portmeirion”

“Ah. She’ll be asleep all the way back home, then”

Illtyd was back with a couple of pints just then, clearly based on what we had been drinking, and time was called not long after the last floor spot. We filed out of the pub into light drizzle, and straight into what Alys called ‘Colin’s place’, where LC got a ‘crunchy sausage’ before we set off up the hill, Maz towing me backwards so that we drifted away from the others.

“Did you hear that the way I did, love? What Clara said?”

I laid my jacket over her shoulders against the rain.

“You talking about the willy stuff?”

“Yes. She hadn’t… I don’t think it was planned, thought out in advance, but she was seizing the opportunity. For an invitation”

“Offering, well, intimacy?”

“Sometimes, husband of mine, you can be really twee. You can say ‘sex’, I am sure. Before you ask, no, I have no opinion either way, and I certainly do NOT wish to discuss, well, anatomical issues. I simply do not want our son hurt. We have two nights left before Clara leaves, but we will certainly see her again in Cardiff. They will have no opportunities here, but, well… Mike, darling?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Please consider this the way I mean it. When we are in Cardiff, might it be a good idea to, well, not watch them too closely? Let them… It will work or it won’t, but at the moment it is working well, and she is a lovely girl, despite, well, stuff. I lost so many of his years. All I want now is to see him happy”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Are we not his parents? We’ve coped with much worse, my love. Now, with Carolyn, do you think Ish’s old school would work?”

The message was clear: subject closed. If it all went wrong, of course, there remained the simple fact that we lived rather further away than the next town. I decided to leave it and follow my wife’s counsel; she was usually sound.

That, of course, brought back thoughts of her decision to go back for that funeral, and my own regret that I hadn’t walked up to that Rahim bloke and simply taken the stick from him, or just punched Suleiman before Rahim’s men punched his ticket.

I realised I was gripping her hand a bit too firmly, so calmed myself with deliberate thoughts about being silly, largely centring on being a free man and not a number, ust before I realised Ish and Clara were dropping back.

“Dad?”

“Son?”

“That Illtyd, he asked me why we were driving tomorrow. Said there’s an easier way”

“Sorry?”

“When we were in Beddgelert, first time we came? The old footpath was closed?”

“Yeah. Putting the little train back in”

“Well, it’s not just back in, but it goes all the way to Ffestiniog from Caernarfon, and there’s a stop where you can do a reasonable walk to the Prisoner place. So, there’s a bus to Caernarfon… and there are pubs all along the way”

“You sure?”

“I asked Alys, and she looked it up for us. Ma=um, would you prefer to do the whole thing by steam train? Apart from the bus bits in and out of Caernarfon?”

My wife astonished me just then by actually doing a run in the spot while repeatedly saying “Yes!”, so we took a swing past the Hiatts before the bunkhouse, and my credit card got another beating.

It’s only money.

We had left Ish and his girl to sort LC for us, so as not to overcrowd Keith and Penny’s living room, and no sooner had I received the confirmation and transferred it to my phone than the front door banged, and Enfys walked over to a dining chair, wordlessly undoing her jacket, boots already off.

Alys looked around the rest of us, smiled sadly, just as Enfys began to weep, and simply drew her from her chair and led her upstairs. Nobody had said a single word, probably because each of us had recognised that whatever she had been dealing with was, just then, beyond any words we might have found. All the two of us could do was hug our goodnights and hope for a decent night’s rest for the girls.

We were woken by brilliant sunshine, as well as the banging of pans from paying guests as they made an early breakfast of their own, and after sorting our own meal, started to pack what we’d need. Clara surprised me by wearing a sundress, which brought some grumpling from LC until we had let her get into her old faithful princess outfit, teamed with walking shoes, fleece and bear carrier. I made sure the older girl had some leggings with her, just in case, as well as a fleece, and then called in at the Hiatts as a courtesy combined with real worry for my self-appointed nieces.

Penny looked drawn, and asked if the rest could stay outside as I went in for a hug of a broken-looking young women. Penny settled down beside her, pulling her gently into a cuddle.

“Me and Dad have both been there, love, but not as many times as your Uncle Mike. We can listen, if that would help”

“Not supposed to talk about it, Mam”

“Understood, cariad”

“But I need to. It was on the main cliffs, Glyder Fawr, and it was… That’s what hurts, Mam: it was so stupd!”

She stumbled through the story, voice hollow and almost too faint to hear at times, a tale of four climbers caught by Just One Of Those Things. A rope of three, putting the weakest member of their crew at the tail instead of centrally, out with their own personal Rock Star, on a VS that he was soloing just in front of their leader, when all the dominoes fell the wrong way.

It had started with some goats, who had crossed the cliff above them. The goats had delivered a loose block, which had hit the soloist somewhere, it didn’t matter exactly, because what had killed him had been the impact with the staring ledge, some forty feet beneath that first impact, or perhaps the next stance, another thirty feet below his first landing.

What had killed the leader of the rope of three had been his attempt to grab his mate as he fell past, the attempt pulling him off his holds and head first onto a sharp flake, because the second had jerked away from the initial falling block and not managed to lock off the rope until the leader was already coming down at speed. That was when the second had discovered the logic of direct belays, as well as the ‘why’ of ground anchors, and had been spun face first into the rock as he was jerked up from his stance, all his belay anchors lifting out.

In the meantime, the third one on the rope had been left tied to a stance with no means of retreat and insufficient skill or confidence to climb up to see to their friends.

“Two dead when we arrived, Uncle Mike. Took us a while to get down to the second, because the cliff was too steep to get the chopper close enough, so we had to rope down with the stretcher, and we couldn’t get the second off till we had secured the leader’s body, and I don’t know if we had been quicker… he died on the way to Ysbyty Gwynedd. He was holding my hand…”

I was expecting her to break down, but is didn’t happen, for she simply kept staring into space, before saying something in Welsh. Pen looked at Alys, who said “Wrth gwrs, fy nghariad” and led her wife from the room as Penny explained.

“She just wants to go back to bed for a while, Mike. She’ll be fine, she says, but from experience, this one will go to an inquest, so she’s kicking herself about not getting to that second quickly enough”

“Fuck’s sake, Pen: two bodies on one rope, hanging either side of a runner? No way can you be quick with that!”

“I know, love, which is why the chopper sped off to grab some of the Llanberis team. I think what’s really got to her is that the number three was married to the soloist”

“Shit. Look, we’re here for a few more days, but we can always change plans if you need us. We’re pretty flexible about everything except our flight date”

“I know, love, so check your e-mail. Steph should have sent them by now”

“Sent what?”

“Festival tickets. We arranged it all as soon as we knew when you were coming”