CHAPTER 50
The beer flowed, and folk relaxed. About eight thirty, we were joined by Aunty Gwen’s two, Karen and Elspeth. Ellie was straight to the point.

“Bloody hell, you look just like Mam used to!”

“Yeah”, Karen replied, “But she would never have worn a skirt THAT short! You trying to prove a point, Sam, er, Sarah? And who’s the kid?”

Start at the beginning….”Yes, Mam said I looked like Aunty Gwen, and as I have the legs I intend to flaunt them. And Jim here is my fiancé’s boy”

Cue the usual question and answer session, and then, to my delight, a couple of hugs, and a squealing inspection of the ring. Some women are teenagers all their life. The last of the crew, Arwel’s son Hywel, joined us ten minutes later. We had already eaten our meals, though Jim was still working his way through some sticky toffee pudding and custard, and the three latecomers just ordered some sandwiches to go with their beer.

I have to describe the scene as it would have appeared to an outsider. A little sandy-haired boy, on the edge of adolescence, eats pudding surrounded by adults. There are five women, all with varying shades of strawberry blonde hair, one rather plumper, three younger, all very obviously related. One of the younger women, in a short denim skirt, is clearly taller than the others.

There are four men. One is tall and slim, bald with greying hair, the other three big, also clearly related, two of them obviously father and son, chunky gold jewellery and dark hair swept back over their heads, greying on the older one. The other man has crew cut dark hair, showing the early stages of male pattern baldness. All three are broad men, their hands scarred, in Arwel’s case one finger missing a joint.

Sat quietly to one side are two other women. One is obviously a relative of the others, same hair, same nose, but broader, with corded forearms and restless eyes that move over the bar unceasingly. Next to her sits a pale-skinned redhead, hair in curls to the shoulders, happily plump and looking fully relaxed.

Just an ordinary family group on an evening out at the local pub. Still waters, though.

It got a little repetitive, explaining all to the cousins, so I turned to the purpose of the trip.

“We have our wedding in June. I would love to have as many of you there as possible. It will be in Dover, so you will need your passports”

I paused for the laughter. “If you want to go over to France for the day!”

Arwel had had a quiet word with his son as he arrived, and there was no nastiness there. The girls were more concerned with ring and offspring than with what had once dangled between my legs, and even Uncle Gethin was thawing, especially when Jim started playing with the camera I had brought. Ellie looked pensive.

“I have an idea for a wedding present for you, Sar, if you want it. It’s odd remembering you’re so out of touch, so I don’t know if Aunty Sioned told you, but I’ve got the flower shop on the High Street, down past the Taj Mahal restaurant. Would you let me do your flowers as a gift?”

Bless you, Ellie. “I couldn’t think of a nicer present, girl. Now, you lot, now that I know where we stand I am going to get very, very boring, and you are going to suffer s slide show back at Mam and Dad’s. I put a load of stuff onto disc, so you will see me, and Jim, and Australia and also the man who owns me heart and soul.”

Hywel muttered. “Bloody hell, woman, we only just got here! Can’t a man have a couple more pints first?”

“Hywel, my love, sweet man of ordered priorities, we thought of that. Elaine and Dad had a run out to the supermarket, and unless you want something special, I think we have more than enough at home”

The prospect of free beer soothed his worries, and somehow we all ended up squeezed into the front room as I slipped my CD of photos and odd bits of video into my parents’ DVD player. There were appreciative murmurs throughout, at the scenery, at video of kangaroos, and partway through I had to slap Karen’s leg. I had included some shots of Tony playing rugby, and I swear she was salivating.

“Has he got any brothers, Sar?”

That sparked off a conversation I had been a little apprehensive of. Tony’s family consisted of the three of them, whereas mine was quite the clan, so I had anticipated a little argument about moving all of them to Dover rather than four of us to Wales, but it never came. They understood that it was the bride’s prerogative, and I thought I felt a wave of sympathy at his being without family. Eventually, as Jim started yawning, people began to make their excuses and their farewells, and soon there were just the six of us in the living room, Jim dozing beside me. I looked at my parents.

“That went better than I would ever have expected. I am assuming that two of you did rather a lot of ground work before hand. Am I right?”

Elaine and Dad exchanged grins. They needed to say nothing at all in reply, the answer was obvious. How could I ever have doubted my family?

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The next couple of days were spent showing Jim some of the sights, like the hidden cathedral of Dewi Sant, and the sweep of Traeth Mawr with the rocks offshore, the place i used to sit so often as a confused and hurting ‘boy’. We skimmed flat stones over the surf running in before a raw westerly before diving into the beach café for a warm drink. Elaine waited till Jim ran off to the toilets.

“I checked up on that Steve Jones you asked about. He was living in the Dock, with his Aunty and Uncle, but they were killed by a drunk. As far as I can see, both parents died after moving to England, but he stayed here for a while.”

“ ‘She’, chwaer fawr.”

“ ‘He’ while she was here, fychan. Now, you sure you want so many new women at your wedding? You have talked through things with the family, but they are YOUR family. What happens, say, if Hywel recognises her? And they are definitely going to make out what Alice is. Where do we go from there?”

“We deal with what happens if and when, love, if and when. Now, Mam and Dad have no problems at all with Alice, and I was planning on using her spare rooms for some of the family, so we just choose who we billet where, and carefully. I was going to put Mam and Dad there, and you two if there is room. Janet’s offered space as well, and so has Andy”

“Andy? The MCP?”

“Andy, the ex-MCP, and, er, Bev, his lady friend.”

I had to run the details past her, and by the time Jim rejoined us she was laughing happily. We agreed, however, that asking Anne to house any of them might be just a little silly. The thought of Aunty Gwen making a pot of tea under the gaze of a statue of the Pope didn’t bear thinking about, not unless we wanted to find ourselves spraying our own tea across the table.

Two days later Dad dropped us off back at the City station, and we were off back home. That was an interesting thought, after the family meeting. I had always thought of home as being the family home, the place of my youth and my upbringing. Whenever anyone had asked if I was on my way home to my place in Dover, I would say “No, I am just going to where I live.”

This had changed. I had my own family, my own personal people, and they consisted of my two men. Dover would never be ‘home” to me, it would always be no more than a town I lived in, but that house I now shared was, indeed, Home, the nest, the warm safe place which held my own little world.

Enid was waiting when we got in, and once again the miracle of the mobile phone meant that the kettle was on. I started to sort through the post as she poured, and as she presented me with a cuppa she asked “And?”

“It went well. The one man I was worried about was so protective it got silly. I think we should be OK. My cousin Ellie is a florist, and she’s offered to provide the flowers free and gratis, that’s how well it went. No, there is only one potential problem, and that’s my cousin Hywel”

“What, a bit anti?”

“No, not that at all. It’s just that he might recognise Steph. It’s one thing dealing with me, as I’m family, and Alice is past his age, but if there is any history there at all it would be best to know in advance. I shall ask Tone to have a word”