Rainbows in the Rock 28

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CHAPTER 28
There were several advantages in being back home, even if it wasn’t exactly mine. We weren’t restricted to a bed and an armchair, but had access to a sofa. Music, a kitchen with snacks, and a better television, although the latter was ignored once we realised how bad daytime programming was. It did get some use for playing DVDs, though, but in the end, we spent the hours slumped together as comfortably as we could manage, given her injuries. Annie dropped by a few times, but the Woodruffs were only seen at night. Apparently, rhyolite held more charms than us, and they were making the most of it.

Annie was good fun, especially when she turned up with a bundle of CDs she had bought in her Bangor record shop. Her selections puzzled both of us, but it was Alys who asked the obvious question.

“Annie?”

“Aye?”

“Why do you buy all this stuff in our language when it’s not--- when you don’t understand it?”

The woman laughed out loud, shaking her head.

“Ah, it was Steph that did it. I was never a folkie, me, until they shoved it in my face, and I got into playing it. Making up for lost time, I am, and you can’t really find this stuff in Crawley. Besides, I am used to listening to foreign stuff. I have a couple of artists I adore, and they are Swedish. Work that one out!”

She barked out another laugh.

“And then there’s always Jimmy, if we’re talking foreign, but I am sure he does it deliberately”

So we listened to her choices, including a couple of discs she had with her of the Swedish stuff, and she and Alys spoke about all sorts of things, most of which seemed to have been missing from the information her wonderful shrink had delivered. In particular, Annie spoke about sexuality, which could have been disturbing coming from anyone else. I think it was her obvious vulnerability that made the biggest difference, keeping us grounded.

“Yes, it was strange. Steph seems to have been much the same as me, in that we each saw someone else first, went all dreamy, and then, bang! I gather your, um, therapist is a bit hard line?”

Alys nodded, raising our linked hands to show Annie.

“Real girls chase boys”

Annie nearly spilled her tea, snorting with sudden laughter.

“Oh dear! We will have to introduce him to Shan’s Mum Ginny. Lucky again, me and Steph, aye? Our shrinks were sensible people; ended up as friends. Oh hell, two of the ones we know even ended up married through us. No! Not TO us, obviously”

She poured a little spilt tea back into her cup from the saucer.

“It’s a big thing, realising what you are. So many of us spend an eternity trying to say who we are, we lose sight of the what. Sounds nasty, that; maybe a better way is to say who we want to be with. Minefield that”

She cast a sharp look my way.

“The worst fallout is on the other person, all too often. Eric got it, and I hear that Geoff had some nastiness as well, so, well… That’s the thing, aye? Both me and Steph, we found the right person. I mean different right persons, of course, but you get me. Always been there for us, they have. That’s what I feel from you two, but please don’t see that as some sort of pressure. You, we, we have the best part of two months to let the world settle down after all of this crap”

“Yup, one straight couple, one gay one. And the girl he sorted, the gay doctor, aye? She’s a lesbian, but her wife isn’t, wasn’t, whatever. Sweet woman, the wife. Lot of strength in her, but she knew who she loved, knew it was the same person in the end. That’s something I was really touched by, you know. Let me see how lucky I’ve been, just like you two. We know who we are, and we know we are loved. Ahead on a lot more than points, aye? Now, Alys, Jan sent this for you”

She reached into the satchel she had brought in with her, and pulled out a bodhran.

“On loan, she said, but no hurry. I can’t see you working a drum kit any time soon, so we thought this would let you get some music out, aye? Like an abscess, that can be, painful until you let it flow”

She actually stopped dead after that remark, then shook her head.

“God, I’m getting as bad as Ginny! Anyway, folk club, aye? We all going?”

I looked across at my girl, seeing how tight her lips were, jaw muscles clenched. A squeeze of my hand, and she nodded.

“Shout of life, isn’t it? Granny Weatherwax, I aten’t dead or whatever”

To my surprise, Annie was bright pink, the blush deepening as I stared, and she held up a hand.

“Not saying… Sod it. Near misses, close calls, aye? There are, sometimes, traditional, arsebollocks. Sometimes you react to things like that. As a couple. Enough said, okay? Shall we just stick to music this time?”

She rose, in a bit of a hurry.

“More tea?”, she said, and vanished into the kitchen. I turned to look at Alys, who was almost holding her breath.

“Enfys, do not make me laugh. It still hurts. Did you work out what she meant?”

I nodded.

“It was having sex, wasn’t it? She was talking about shagging”

A slower nod from Alys.

“I think we need to change the subject, my love”

When we came to the evening of the club, Alys insisted on walking down, despite my pleas, and when I finally agreed, she simply whispered that we were less likely to get arrested for indecency than if we followed Annie’s alleged example. Alys could still dead-pan, it seemed. Geoff ran my harp down to the Cow in his van, and we all descended on the pub together from the Edwards place, Neil appearing at the last minute, this time beaming with delight at seeing Alys up, walking, and in her best blue dress. It was an open-floor night, no paid guest, so we were able to fit in some solo stuff, as well as the ‘family band’ stuff, and I was suddenly a world away from the horrible ten days or so we had all just managed to survive. The regulars were solicitous towards Alys, although I did spot a glare from a couple who left early. Alys touched my arm and whispered, “Ifor’s parents, love”

Dad’s mate Illtyd overheard somehow, and put his own hand on top of Alys’.

“Fuck them both, love. On their own here in those opinions, ah? Start anything and---ah, they knew that, and that’s why they left. Pay them no heed. Little bird tells me that the nice boys in the blue uniforms are keeping an eye on people who let drunken shits drive their cars around and hurt people. No heed, okay? Now, I’m off to do a song or two, but I think your mate Neil is done for the night. Dil’s boy can give him a lift home after, so don’t worry”

He squeezed her hand, and with it my arm, kissed each of us on the cheek, and strolled over to do his spot. A couple of performances later, and it was our turn to do the ensemble thing, and that was most definitely the high point of the evening, as both Steph and Annie let themselves go in such a spectacular way that they even woke Neil. I didn’t have a hope of keeping up with them in virtuosity, so settled down to help drive the rhythm, and despite the rather unpleasant nature of the simile Annie had delivered, I could see how it worked.

The music came out of us, out of all of us, and with it went pain, sorrow, so much of our fear. Steph summed it up as she announced the encore we had been forced into.

“Well, thank you. Many of you know we have, well, some people have had a pretty bad time over the last week or so. We have just the tune to finish with: Banish Misfortune!”

With a quick whisper to Alys, “It’s a jig, 6/8 time”, we were off. It was one of my favourite tunes to play, as Steph knew, so she kept the speed down to my own level, and it was fun, and loud, and silly, and Alys was smiling.

I squeezed in beside her that night, tired but happy, and realised, even more than I already had. that it wasn’t just Alys who was loved.

Three days later, and she was with me at the bunkhouse. There wasn’t much she could do physically, but she was there, and her smile was for me, and that was all the help I needed. Steph and the others had left for home by then, but I had found time to give Steph the lightest of grillings, well away from her friend.

“What happened to her, Steph? Don’t need to tell me everything, but she seems to have really bonded with Alys. Something shared?”

We were sitting on the wall outside the bunkhouse, part way through packing the van up, a jump seat in place for Annie’s ride home. Steph sighed, wincing a little.

“Yes, love. A bit. Annie was in Traffic for years. What happened to those kids in the car, well, that’s the sort of thing she got all the time. Messy, nasty, horrible stuff. I mean, I’ve had a couple of deaths at work, but she got the really nasty, in-your-face stuff”

She looked up for a few seconds as a brace of jet trainers roared overhead.

“Do you know what the worst thing is, at least for me? What you are looking to study, well, you are likely to find yourself in the same place, so… It’s futility, love. Failure. That person, that human being, they were alive until they met you. Guilt, that’s what you feel. Annie had that day after day, and then there was the bomb”

That shocked me upright.

“Bomb?”

Steph nodded at me.

“Yes, a bomb. Friend of ours, some nasty people stuck a device under his car. Annie was there, did what needed doing, saved den’s life, to be honest, then had a breakdown. When we were coming up, the two of us, she’d heard the news. Typical of her, that is. All the shit that triggers her, and she’s straight there, trying to make it better. Sound woman, she is. She’s left Alys her number, just in case”

I must have looked a little off in some way, because Steph put her hand on mine.

“No jealousy, love. Just someone who’s been there offering an understanding ear. Now, shall we get the rest of this squared away? According to Annie, her man has promised a blow-out when we get back. Full curry and beer experience”

Another bark of laughter.

“Cheeky bugger is using Chez Woodruff, though. He says there’s more room, and he’s right, so if he needs all that space, I am asking myself how many of our friends will be needing somewhere to kip”

She waved behind her.

“Sometimes, I wonder if it would be easier if we took on a place like this!”

The three of them were away an hour later, Neil with them, looking slightly ashamed as he said his farewells, looking ready to roast in his leathers under the sun of a brilliant Summer’s day.

“Sorry for getting so pissed, girls”

Alys shook her head, stepped forward and kissed him gently on the lips.

“You will never, ever say sorry to me again, understood? Safe ride home, my friend. And wish me luck”

He paused, halfway through putting his helmet on.

“Luck?”

She reached out her hand to pull me to her, then slipped an arm around my waist.

“My stuff is still with the police for now, but Dad says he and Mr Hiatt have made me a new grid. There’s a bit of old quarry I hadn’t finished assessing. Bikes, ah?”

“Bikes?”

She grinned.

“And horses. What you do when you fall off one. Got a sherpa porter person woman here to carry my stuff, and her Dad’s made us sandwiches and a flask. I aten’t dead yet!”

He hugged us both, gingerly for Alys, and then he was easing his bike down the steep lane to the A5. My girl squeezed my waist again, then whispered in my ear.

“Annie’s idea, it was”

She kissed my cheek, then giggled.

“Can’t do the shagging, love, but I fully intend to find somewhere private for some very, very prolonged snogging. Any objections?”

I didn’t need to think about that one. We were late home, but there were smiles for us.

Not dead.

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Comments

So

Maddy Bell's picture

what's next for the girls?

Things will obviously never be the same as before but time to move on, to get back on the horse, let the fear take over and you quickly go into a downward spiral.

Looking forward to more tales from furren lands as soon as you feel able.


image7.1.jpg    

Madeline Anafrid Bell

Next?

An awful lot. Long way to go on this one.

I hope I have made it clear why Annie came up. For those who don't know the back story, read 'Ride On'

missing h

married trough us

sorry, this was supposed to be a p.m. but I hit wrong button.

Grin!

Will edit the MS, ta

Not dead.

fantastic.

DogSig.png

I Like Neil

joannebarbarella's picture

A real human being, faults'n'all, but a damn good person.

Neil

I am trying to write real people, as usual. A man who walks into a situation where he sees a friend, thinks she's dead, but keeps enough presence of mind to photograph in detail what he believes to be a murder scene. I imagine him finding great difficulty in setting focus etc through the tears.

Yes, a good man.

Another wonderful story

I've read all of your stories and got most (possibly all, must check) on Kindle. Your characters are very much "real" people in every way except for lack of flesh and blood, but I wish that they did so that they could become friends.

It's probably time to go back and re-read them, which will be a treat to savour!

Alison

Thank you

Said it so many times: I can't do twisty plots, so I try my best to write real people. The thing is, once they are real, they start writing their own stories.