"It doesn't matter, lucky for you at least someone is prepared to answer the phone in the house. Listen guess what?" Taran asked mysteriously. "Dunno, you're pregnant or something?" The Price to Pay - Vol. 4.08 - Y Gamp Lawn - Grand Slam! by Alys

An annoying buzzing sound penetrated my semi-consciousness. I sleepily flapped a hand in the general direction of the noise hoping to waft away whatever creature or object, was responsible for disturbing my slumber. The sound stopped. I snuggled back down under the blankets and concentrated on returning to dreamland.

The buzz came back, I half opened an eye to try and locate the source of the irritation. I noticed a small pink rectangular object buzzing and vibrating insanely on my side table. I reached out, fumbled and then grasped my mobile phone. I looked at the time on the cover. The little screen showed ten minutes to eight. Ten minutes to eight! Since this was at least an hour before my regular getting up time I responded to the phone call in the only way possible.

The smack of the phone hitting the arm of the armchair was a satisfying sound to my semi awake mental state.

"That'll teach you for trying to wake me up," I scolded the phone, and closed my eye again and reached out to Morpheus's arms.

I looked down at Franklinstein tied down on the dissecting table. I pulled the meat carver out of the block of super sharp knives.

"Let's see if you have a heart then," I said to my victim, with an evil grin.

I sharpened the knife, enjoying my tormenting teacher's fear as he anticipated his demise. He tried to talk but that only made the duct tape on his mouth grip tighter. I prepared for the first incision. There was a distracting sound from the door. Banging and shouting, words that were a little indistinct. I chose to ignore this interruption and pressed the knife tip into the skin of the evil educator, a little drop of blood appeared.

A strong hand shook my shoulder, I tried to push it off, words penetrated my semi awareness, Franklinstein faded away as I opened my eyes to see my Mother standing over me.

"Celyn, it's your sister on the phone," she said as she held the cord less handset near to me.

"Alright, alright, you know what time it is?" I asked a bit groggily.

"Time to get up anyway, young lady," my Mum said, as she thrust the phone into my hand.

"Hello what you want?" I spoke venomously into the black plastic object of my displeasure.

"Hi Sis and good morning to you too," replied my dark clothed sister.

"Taran do you know what time it is?" I asked.

"It's ten minutes after the last time I tried to phone you on your mobile, which was after I had sent you five text messages. Is your phone switched off?" she inquired.

"Well sort of," I replied a little guiltily.

"It doesn't matter, lucky for you at least someone is prepared to answer the phone in the house. Listen guess what?" Taran asked mysteriously.

"Dunno, you're pregnant or something?"

There was a loud guffaw, "you must be joking," Taran responded," I'll give you a clue, what day is it today?"

"Saturday," I responded.

"A good start, but what date?" she continued.

"Dunno, March something," I replied, tiring rapidly of my sister's Mastermind game.

"You're hopeless, it's March 15th, and what is special about today?"

"Dunno..um..yes I do it's Saint Celyn's day, the patron saint of sixteen year olds who want to go back to sleep, now get lost and let me catch up on my missing hours"

"Listen you mindless school girl," Taran said, sarcastically," I don't know which secluded retreat you are living in but for almost every else in Wales it's the day of THE MATCH!"

"Oh the Rugby, why didn't you say that in the first place, so what about it?"

"I've got tickets!" she said triumphantly.

"You've got tickets!" I responded excited at the idea.

"Yes I've got tickets!" she repeated.

"You've got tickets!" I responded again.

"Celyn," Taran said after a slight pause..

"Yes?"

"Are you a parrot?" she asked.

"Pretty Polly, pretty polly, pretty polly....." I replied in my best parrot voice.

"Shut up, you and listen," Taran said, laughing," I've not only got tickets I've got spare tickets for you to come too"

"Wow! To see the match?" I responded, feeling excited at the prospect of being able to attend one of the great sporting occasions, "how?"

Taran explained how her girlfriend, Gini, had got them from her father, whose company had decided to upgrade to a hospitality box and therefore had some spare tickets for the grandstand. I arranged to meet her in Caerdydd in a couple of hours.

I phoned Siá´n and after a similar difficulty in getting him to re-engage his brain, that my sister had had with me, he agreed with alacrity to come down to the big smoke with me for the game.

The five minutes to eleven from Y Fenni pulled into the train station in Caerdydd, only fifteen minutes later than scheduled as each stop on the way had had to be extended while rugby supporters squeezed into every possible space on the three carriages of the local South Wales service. With relief Siá´n and I exited the confined space that had been our joyous travel experience for the last twenty minutes and resumed the normal practice of being able to breathe independently instead of in turns.

The human tide of rugby shirted Welsh people, of all ages, genders and sizes, flowed through the station and out into the gray, wet March morning. We were carried with the waves of excited, noisy, slightly inebriated people until we reached the concourse and saw Taran and Gini, arm in arm.

"Hey Taran! Hey Gini!" I shouted as made my way through the scrum of people and I hugged my Goth sister.

"Hi Sis," said Taran, hugging me back," nice top, looks a bit tight though," she continued, smiling.

We pulled apart and Taran introduced Gini to me and Siá´n, while I introduced Siá´n to them.

Gini was a taller, bigger version of my sister with similar engothedness, but both of them had made concessions to the occasion by wearing rugby scarves. Siá´n and I were wearing the rugby shirts that we had bought nine months ago for the rugby world cup. His was a little short, as he had grown a couple of inches since then, mine was a little tight in the chest area, due to some changes I had experienced there.

"What now Taran?" I asked, "kick off's not for another five hours or so"

"We look for a nice bar to hang out," she replied.

"They all look a bit crowded here," I commented, surveying the pubs in the vicinity already overflowing with people.

"No problem Celyn, " said Gini, " the union building isn't far away"

"The students union do you mean Gini?" asked Siá´n.

"Yes, it won't be as full as the pubs here," she replied.

"But we're not students, how can we get in?" I asked.

"It's not a problem, you both look old enough and they don't check ID there", my sister reassured.

Some quarter of an hour later we reached the anonymous concrete block of the University Student Union building of Prifysgol Caerdydd, opposite the magnificent, imposing National Museum. We found a corner of the open spaced student bar and sat down on some comfortable, leather sofas.

Gini and Taran went off for some refreshments while Siá´n and I relaxed, sat next to each other. My phone buzzed. I flicked it open and read the message.

Remember to wave at the camera xx Mum

I smiled and briefly replied.

kk xx Cel

"I'm really looking forward to this," said Siá´n," I haven't been in the Millennium Stadium before"

"Nor me, it looks amazing on the tele," I replied.

My sister and her friend returned with sandwiches and soft drinks for us and beer for them. We chatted while we ate our food. Gini and Taran entertained Siá´n and myself with tales of uni and living in the big city. Our events in school and town seemed trivial by comparison.

"Uni sounds such a great experience I can't wait to go," I said after listening to the tale of another late night party.

Taran laughed, " It's not fun a lot of he time, there are lectures, work, washing, cooking and other boring stuff. I really miss Mum sometimes, especially when I have a bag full of dirty clothes"

The next couple of hours went quickly between chatting, joking and the odd game of pool. Soon it was time to cheer Ireland on the TV, in their attempt to beat the old enemy, England. Unfortunately our cheers were not enough and soon the Irish team were heading for a heavy defeat. We decided to head off early for the stadium hoping that the omens of defeat for our celtic cousins in Scotland and Ireland didn't auger a similar outcome for our team.

Soon we were sitting in our seats, half way up the middle seating area of the stadium, in a great position to see the whole of the pitch. The stadium rapidly filled. Around us were collecting people of all genders and ages, wearing mostly Wales supporting clothes but with a sprinkling of French outfits. A French couple in their thirties sat down next to us. They took out a plastic drinking bottle from a ruck-sac but instead of the soft drink they poured out some red wine! An ingenious way of getting through the bottle search at the entrance.

The attractive, dark headed woman turned to me, gesturing with the bottle.

"voulez vous du vin ?"

I took a little sip, thanked her and passed it back.

Soon we were all conversing in broken French and English while nearby a French jazz band played a variety of jolly tunes, competing with the rather more formal military brass band on the field. Parts of the crowd started singing along to the band, and soon the volume of sound increased and echoed around the stadium with its closed roof.

"Rhowch Groeso, Please Welcome," came the voice over the tannoy, "Tá®m Cymru - The Welsh Team!"

The crowd went crazy cheering at the entry of the team, led by the daughters of one of the Welsh heroes from a previous generation who had died prematurely the year before. The level of excitement went up until almost a relief the game started.

The next hour of play was one of almost continuous tension as both sets of players gave everything to the struggle for superiority. The fearsome tackling of both sides, the crunch of bodies hurtling into each other was at times breathtaking. At 60 minutes the score was level with the result in doubt and then a flash of genius. In eight seconds of wizardry the smallest player on the pitch had scored and transformed the game. The mood became more and more relaxed as Wales took control and extended their lead. By the last few minutes the whole crowd was singing the unofficial national anthem.

"And we were singing
hymns and arias
land of my fathers
ar hyd y nos"

Suddenly the referee blew his whistle.

"Buddugoliaeth i Gymru! Victory to Wales!"

Not a Welsh person left the stadium for an hour as the team was presented with the trophy that no one had ever believed they could win. Eventually after all the ceremonies and victory laps were completed we joined the slow huddle out of the stadium, still in a euphoric state at the result.

We walked out into the drizzle of the gray evening and Taran started off the chorus of the well known song by Catatonia

"Everyday when I wake up"
We all joined in the next line.

"I thank the lord I'm Welsh!"