CHAPTER 49
Mam was back on the phone the next day.

“I spoke to Gethin and Gwen. It was a little heated, but they have agreed to talk to you, see if we can get the family, well, at least civil. So here is a proposal. If you have a weekend free, perhaps around half term, we would love to see Jim, and it would be a treat for him to see something of home.

“Sarah, you understand we look on him as ours now? Just watch us, make sure we don’t spoil him!”

I had a chat with Tony, and he was eventually happy for me to take the train to Swansea, to be picked up by Elaine, as the trains to Abergwaun are limited to one a day. Arriving at half past one in the morning was not an option with Jim along.

Tony’s concern was simple: if my family got fractious, it would upset Jim. He had a chat with Mam, and she pointed out that Jim’s presence would be the one thing that would prevent such an explosion. So, one Saturday morning at the start of half term we got the train from the Priory up to Charing Cross, then the Bakerloo to Paddington, Jim doing the navigation through the Underground. As we headed West I looked around for kites, and got a few, but we were rattling along nicely, soon through Swindon, and as we approached the Severn Tunnel I asked Jim to keep an eye out for any octopus that might try and get in.

He told me not to be silly.

We popped out into sunshine again, and the countryside was different, the hills rising almost from the coast. Eventually, with a bit of a shiver, I realised we were coming into the city. Memories were lurking, but Jim was prattling, and as we stepped off and headed for the ticket barrier Elaine’s shout and smile finished driving the nastiness out. She wrapped me in a crunching hug.

“Bloody hell, chwaer, you’re going to have to ease off on the weights!”

“Na, the missus likes me with a bit of meat on my bones. Hiya Jim! Croeso i Gymru!”

“Hi Aunty Elaine! You coming to Mum and Dad’s wedding?”

“Of course, little man, she came to mine so it is only fair”

We set off up the motorway to Caerfyrddin, then across to Hwlffordd before the valley run through Treffgarne and the rock outcrops nearby. As we approached Abergwaun, I pointed to the hill above Goodwick.

“See those houses, Jim? That place is called Stop-and-Call”

“You are being silly again, Mum!”

Not this time, sonny Jim, not this time. The kettle was, of course, on, as mobile phones have managed to reach this far West, and as we were guests there was a choice of biscuits from a proper tin. Some things never change.

Nana Sioned was in full voice. “Jim! Der yma, fy nghariad!”

Give him credit, he went with the flow. A grandmother holding her arms out to you is a pretty obvious hint, after all.

“We have a meal at the Oak tonight, Gwen and Gethin will join us, as will Arwel.”

Arse. if ever there was someone who objected to my life, if not actually my being alive, it was my father’s older brother. I had walled off my family after that night with Elaine, when the nastiness had gone too far, but now I really felt that I had to make the effort. These were people of my parents’ age, and while I still had time, they had less, and I couldn’t help think of Alice and Janet. My mother was right. Alice would die as a woman, but a very masculine one. Janet had taken the other route, and loneliness had swallowed her. I had the opportunity to be different and, fuck it, they were family. I worried that I was using Jim as a shield, but family deserved one last throw of the dice. You open the door….oh, I couldn’t help thinking of Dave Gilmour’s lyric about opening the door to his enemies and asking if they could wipe the slate clean.

“They told me to please go fuck myself”

Go for it. If they told me to go fuck myself, I had lost nothing. I had survived Joe, I had coped with Alice, with Anne and Andy. I had climbed out of my cesspit of despair and found the best man in the world. What could they take away from me?

On the other hand, if…if…Jim gained an entire family, I regained my own. Win-win. I had read too much of people who lost their roots for no good reason. Well, not this girl, not without a fight.

Dad came in, and swept me into a big hug. He whispered in my ear “Paid a phoeni”

Don’t worry.

Siá¢n was down at half six, and we set off for the pub like a patrol of soldiers in hostile country. Mam was tense, and Dad was being a little too solicitous towards Jim.

The pub is an historic one, from where the women of Pembrokeshire repelled a French invasion, and it does go up and down food-wise, depending on chef, and Mam had assured me that they were on the upswing again.

Gwen and Gethin were waiting. I felt their eyes on me as entered, just as I felt Siá¢n and Elaine flank me as my Dad took my hand. Aunty Gwen opened hostilities. She looked me up and down, obviously checking for the bulge of a cock.

“You are looking well, Samuel, all things considered”

My father replied, calmly. In his case, calmly was like the proverbial iceberg.

“Sarah has an announcement, but we can wait for Arwel. This is Jim, her little boy”

There s no real equivalent in Welsh for ‘what the fuck?’ as most swearing falls within ‘diawlo, daro’, which Pat would consider blaspheming. I could, however, see ‘WTF?’ in their faces. I smiled.

“When Uncle Arwel s here I shall tell all. Jim, this is your great aunt Gwen, and great uncle Gethin.”
.
He had been studying, and held his hand out to Aunty Gwen with a “Shw mae?” She rook his hand, a little disconcerted

“Da iawn, diolch” She looked at me. “Mae e’n siarad gymraeg? Dydw e ddim yn Sais?”

Bless you Jim. “No, Aunty Gwen, he doesn’t speak Welsh, but he wants to learn it so he can talk to Granddad Twm and Nana Sioned”

Fifteen love.

“Jim, do you want to have a look at the menu? Aunty Gwen, want to talk him through any local stuff?”

There was a rumble behind me. “So where the fuck is he, then?”

Arwel. “Do you mind? My little boy is only learning Welsh, but I would appreciate less swearing by him”

A very large man, greying hair swept back over his head, face ruddy with broken veins and a couple of sovereign rings on his hands. Uncle Arwel.

“Sorry, girl, I was looking for my nephew”

“You don’t recognise me then?”

Stop it, Sarah. This was supposed to be a peace meeting, not points scoring. Dad stepped in.

“As long as you’re standing, Arwel, you can get the beers in. Brains for me and the three girls, , a half for Sioned, and…Jim, yes? A coke for the boy. Jim, want to give your Uncle Arwel a hand?”

They wandered off, and Dad leant in. “We knew Jim would make it easier, but trust me, we wanted to see him as well, we aren’t just using him”

“I know, Dad, I know, Mam said. But if it gets nasty, we leave.”

“We understand, love.”

Pray god that my marriage is as strong as my parents’.

Arwel was back with the drinks, easing himself into the seat we had kept.

“He’s a polite boy. Does he understand us?”

“No, uncle, just a few words, but he wants to learn”

“You look just like a fucking woman”

I sighed. This could get repetitive. “I am a fucking woman, uncle. Want me to show you my fanny?”

My mother’s hand went to my arm. “Arwel, stop it. This is what our daughter has been for twenty years, on the outside, and all her life inside. She has come to try and get some sort of reconciliation with her family, because she has proper values, and will request the same courtesies from you”

Elaine kept quiet, but I spotted how she held herself, clearly judging how quickly she could be out of her seat. Arwel kept digging.

“Just, I was expecting that pansy, in a dress or something, not a woman with a kid”

His head jerked up. “How the…hell did you get a kid?”

I held up my left hand. “Jim is my fiancé’s son. This is why I wanted to talk to you, and why I want to see my cousins while we are here. Tony and I are getting married in June, and I want my family to stand with me.”

Still digging, still the same old questions. “This Tony bloke, then, does he know you’re a boy, then?”

“Arwel, two things here. Firstly, Tony knows everything about me, apart from what an arsehole you can be. Secondly…”

I shook off my mother’s calming hand.

“Do I look or sound like some fucking ‘boy’?”

He started to laugh. “Ych, definitely a Powell, then, with that temper!”

Arwel looked at me, flat, measuring. “This man then, this Tony. Tell us about him, then. He better not be like that little turd Twm told me about”

Of course, they all knew about Joe, The damage to my face had been rather difficult to hide, and then the crap with the police. I gave them the story, the reunion, Jim’s mum, and he sat oblivious as I framed my speech carefully to avoid him understanding it. Arwel nodded through it, and Gwen looked quite emotional.

Arwel grunted. “This…accident that your little cunt had, did your…fiancé have anything to do with it?”

“Not at all, but it s possible he knew a man who did”

“Good. It saved me paying him a visit properly, though I did have a few words of my own with him later”

He caught my stare. “What? I didn’t touch him! Just told him that once he had healed I was coming for his other nut. He moved away after that, sharpish like”

I sensed Elaine settling back into her seat, and my tension was easing.

“Why, Uncle Arwel? You hated me”

“Sarah, I hate nancy boys.”

He called me Sarah. Shit.

“I know it’s not pee-cee or whatever, but I can’t be doing with all that fairy stuff. If you are gong to fancy blokes, then fancy real blokes, not some mincing woofter. That’s what I thought you were, but you’re not, are you? It’s like Elaine, she fancies women, not pretend blokes, I mean, look at Siá¢n there, nobody would put her down as a dyke now, would they?”

He lowered his voice. “That boy, he calls you mam, yeah?”

“Mum, actually”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be mam by the time he leaves here. Look, love, you’re family. We’ve fucked about too long for this. Yes, I’ll come and stand by you, and if that man of yours doesn’t do right by you I will talk to him too.”

He looked across the table “Gwen, Gethin, are you two going to be sensible here or keep playing arseholes?”

Fuck me. I couldn’t actually agree with his logic, which seemed to be all about Real Men and Real Women, but what the hell. I wandered over to the bar with our meal order and started the recitation to the landlord. A jarring English voice broke in.

“Always the fucking same, come into these places and the sheepshagging bastards switch into fucking Welsh as soon as you walk in”

I looked at him, some tosser of a holidaymaker obviously on his way to Ireland.

“Tell me, how do you know what we were speaking before you came in? This s a Welsh pub, in Wales, and we speak Welsh here, just as they would speak French in a Calais pub. Does your paranoia extend to France as well?”

“Unless you want a slap, darling, I would shut it”

There was a rumble over my right shoulder. “Unless you want to do it without teeth, I suggest you don’t talk to my niece like that”

Elaine appeared by me, and after a nod at the landlord, she spoke to the twat with the attitude.

“I suggest you finish your drinks and head for the ferry. I could start listing the public order offences you have already committed---yes, I am a copper–but the paperwork is a bitch, and I might need to visit the ladies’ and leave you with my family.”

She smiled, and gestured to the rest of the pub. “Oh, did you notice all the other sheepshaggers who were listening to you? Now might be a really good time to leave. Don’t hurry back”

She looked around at the other locals. “Fun’s over, ladies and gentleman, arsehole is leaving the building”

Elaine followed him and his friends to the door ,then pulled out her phone as it shut.

“Kev? Elaine. Blue Mondeo, 57 plate, just leaving the Oak. I think he’s had a few; on his way to the ferry. Yeah? Good oh!”

I looked round the table, and caught grins from Gethin and Arwel. I had my family back.