CHAPTER 47
I was calmer by far when we returned to Maryport. The trip had moved me in so many ways, moved me profoundly.

I had been changing slowly over the years, as love and friendship, and parenthood, had brought me through the long nights and terrors from the past, and now I realised in my soul what the back of my mind had already worked out.

I was loved. I loved. I was a parent to two who loved me unconditionally and totally, a husband and lover, a grandson and stepson and son in law, a friend and a teacher. The old saying could never have been truer, that I had blessings I should count. So I had tits, that Em told me were just starting to sag a bit (her excuse for ‘perking them up’ in bed), but they were mine, part of me, and as long as my wife loved them I could live with them. My body was as healthy and fit as it could be, and it could run as well as ever–I could run as well as ever, for my body was me, and I was it. That was part of the sea change that Grenen had wrought in me, the realisation that I was neither driver nor passenger, just me. Call it acceptance, call it resignation, but I remembered the tramp outside the court and knew exactly how lucky I had been.

The stories that Em occasionally showed me were so wide of the mark, with their men ‘embracing their femininity’ as it always seemed to be phrased, but this was nothing like that. I didn’t start wearing lacy undies, or skirts, or make-up, I just stopped worrying quite so much. I mean, a bit of gynecomastia, what was that between friends?

I settled back into my life and its many roles, and I was happy. Then we lost Iain.

It was a happy day, when he finally married his Viking long jumper, and once more Arthur pushed the boat out for us. It was almost as if we had a timeshare arrangement on the pub and the church, and there was a sense of familiarity to everything. Hildi was blonde, of course, to Em’s darkness, her eyes a pale blue to my love’s sparkling green, and her skin a clear tan to my darling’s freckled pink and white, but she still managed to look beautiful. I know what beauty is, it smiles at me each night and wakes beside me in the morning, and I see it as I feed my children. I made allowances, though, for Iain’s sake, as he stood beside his father and a college friend awaiting her entrance.

My brother honoured me by treating my family as his own, and if ever a phrase could encapsulate how we had been torn apart, that was it. Audrey and Kieran were his parents now, the bond deep and true, but all three extended their hands to my group of friends and allies. So, Tom and Sally were there, their three together with our two in pretty dresses or miniature suits, and the boys, and Tessa and Wyn. Sid too, and Per, who seemed to spend a lot of time looking for paintings and other stock around North West Cumbria, specifically a small local library. Tessa was hilarious, as once she saw all the male relatives that had come over from Akranes I could almost read her mind.

“Nope, must not salivate over the beefcake, got one, don’t need any more, be good, don’t drool”

Brian, of course, and Karen, who still looked lovely at fortyish (she wouldn’t admit to it), and as we took our seats, she whispered “We have to talk later, us and you two”

The music started, and Hildi came in on the arm of her father, and I finally admitted to myself that she did look almost as good as my wife and my goddess, and it all went as these things do. Women, including Nana, cried, as rings were exchanged, a veil lifted and a kiss given. I had lost my brother, in a way, because he was moving out to Iceland with his bride, taking up a sports teaching post at a school in Akranes. His feel for words matched my own, and half the time they chatted it was in something foreign.

Young Arthur had rigged his trap with flowers again, but it was a different pony, and they went off up the farm road a bit quicker than we had, Hildi’s laughter tinkling behind. I noticed just then that Per and Sid were holding hands, and Roger slipped me a quick grin.

There was a little bit of tension when Per spoke to Hildi in Danish, and got his answer in English, but that evaporated quickly once the speeches started and the food hit the plates. Some more of Iain’s Loughborough friends had formed a group, and that made a pleasant change from the disco that would normally have played. Call me an old fuddy-duddy, but the charts in the Eighties were filled with utter dross, and as I had lived through all of the glory years of the sixties and early seventies, I knew what real music was.

The only fights this time were among various younger guests trying to pull the unattached blond(e)s. I was OK, I prefer dark curls, and green eyes, and she would probably kill me anyway. Then, the newlyweds were off in the taxi as the rest of us settled down to a serious party.

There was time afterwards to spend a few days with Nana, which was something she now seemed to live for. Stevie and La’l Kaz loved it too, as she spoiled them ceaselessly, and took them on little adventures around the easier local fells. The boys, Tess, Sid and their two friends were there as well, and so were Brian and Kaz.

She took me and Em aside the morning after Ian had left us, clearly nervous, as Bran held her close.

“Steve, Em, we have something to tell you. I’ve been working with that doc I introduced you to, and, well, shit, it looks like they can do something now. New techniques, new kit.

“I’ve got eggs, and they are apparently healthy. It’s the attachment to the womb that seems to switch off each time. That’s the problem. t seems that we can do the IVF thing, but we can’t get anything to stay in me.”

She was shaking, but Em just hugged her and smiled.

“So you were wondering…..and the answer is, yes, of course I will”

Karen grabbed her, tears starting, and I knew I had missed something important for at least a minute. Then it hit me. There was no alternative, I had to make it a joke.

“Do you want full bawd, Kaz, or just a womb with a view?”

Surrogacy, kept within the family. Once more I understood how deeply I was loved, as something I couldn’t offer myself was given without question by my wife to my saviour. Perhaps it s now clear how the importance of my deformities was slowly but steadily evaporating. Loved, loving, given and giving.

Twelve months later, and Brian had a son, Karen another reason to love life, and Em an even bigger place in my heart, if that had actually been possible. I couldn’t imagine any way that life could be better.

Tess and Wyn had their own wedding dance in Skagen, a year after the birth of Brian Stephen Dennahy, and of course we went, as a mob, and Per made a joke about returning the favour of the Viking invasions as he held his own lover round the waist, and that made me think of waste. They had laid waste to Sid’s mind, they had tried to cut his soul away from him, but he had somehow, like me, held onto the humanity he prized, and now it looked as if he was finally getting a reward for the pains of his life.

So we danced, and we loved, and we walked again to that edge of two seas, and I held my family to me as other lovers embraced. Brian and Karen dangled their son’s feet in the water, and my darling simply smiled at the sight. How could this ever get better? Blessings well and truly counted, listed and delighted in.

The next day, the phone rang at the dune house, and it was Tom.

“Steve, we’ve found that cunt’s records”

It seemed that Mitchell had packed everything up and put it all into a storage container, which had sat ignored at the back of a warehouse for years. The building sold off, the new owners had started clearing it, and out of curiosity broken into the box. Totally by chance, one of the workers had read either my book or one of the newspaper summaries, and recognised my name, and the bastard’s.

“He wanted paying, Steve, but not that much, and at least he had the good grace not to go straight to the bloody papers. Sorry to ask this, but I’ll need a sub to cover it”

“Tom, you daft bugger, of course. It’s me that should pay, not you. Have you looked at them?”

There was silence for a while. Then, in a flat voice, “Yes, I have. I’ve set Sally to copying them, but I really think they need to go straight to the police. The man is as mad as the Cunnighams”

“Do it, Tom, do as you see fit. and Tom…”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. I love you, Tom”