The Ram
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Just the first few chapters of another little Story.
The Welsh Mountain Ram.
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her five-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month-old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Brionys’ hands pulled and turned frantically as her feet pumped on the brakes but it was no use. She let out a scream as the car simply refused to deflect from its’ trajectory and lurched straight into the bank of snow that covered the low hedge marking the edge of the mountain road. As the wheels struck the hard frozen verge under the snow, the car lurched with a sickening crunch that announced the end of the front suspension. The car continued ploughing into the snow bank and finally came to halt with its’ nose stuffed into the hedge and peering out over the sickeningly steep mountainside of snow and bracken. The engine raced as the front wheels now hung suspended in the hedge and the back wheels span uselessly in the snow. As her scream finally subsided, Brionys’ heart slowed to a hammering tattoo while her foot slowly eased itself off the brake. The car didn’t move; she was not going to topple down the steeply banked moorland field. Gradually she calmed and turned to study her precious cargo. Sion and Ellairy were safe. Ellairy was still sleeping peacefully in the rear child seat, blissfully unaware of anything but Sions’ eyes were like saucers as he stared at his mother. At five, Sion knew enough to realise the danger. Briony offered up a silent prayer of thanks that her precious children were safe, that is, at least safe from crashing down the bank. Then as her heart slowed to a modest thump she began to take stock.
“Damn! Damn! Damn! She cursed.
“Are we alright Mummy?” Sion whimpered, still nervous about the situation.
Briony looked at him and tried to smile reassurance but she was anything but assured. Sion sensed his mothers’ distress and promptly fell silent. After watching the ferocious row his mother had just had with his father, Sion was traumatised enough to stay quiet. He’d seen enough rows and fights.
Briony put the car into reverse and tried to back out of the hedge but it was useless. The car was hung fast on top of the hedge while the back wheels were simply stuck over a drainage ditch that was full of ice. The same ice that had also spread across the flooded mountain road and then frozen to form the treacherous ice sheet that she had driven onto. In her anger she had been driving too fast through the snow but she would not have seen the frozen stream flooding the road anyway. It was under the snow. When the wheel became dead and the brakes failed to work, Briony thought it was mechanical failure but now she realised what had happened. She had skidded on a sheet of ice.
She heaved at the door and it opened reluctantly as she jerked it several times to dislodge the deep snow. Finally the door was open enough and she probed delicately with her heels. She cursed as the broken hedge scratched her legs and laddered her tights. The car was sitting on top of the low-lying hedge and there was no way she was getting out through the drivers’ door; ‘or the passengers’ door’. She quickly realised she was in deep trouble. The snow had started falling again thick and fast.
In her heels and flimsy tights, she was totally unequipped for tramping about in moorland snow but she finally managed to scramble into the back seat and get out of the car through a rear door. She now stood shivering in her ordinary clothes as she ruefully studied the two muddy, icy skid-marks that followed her car into the hedge. In the red tail-lights the skid marks looked exactly like two bloody trails as though some large wounded beast had collapsed and died in the hedge.
“Damn! Damn, damn, damn everything!” She screamed again in frustrated rage and fear, for she knew she was in serious trouble. She was stranded on a lonely mountain road miles from just about anywhere and with the snowstorm getting worse by the minute. To cap it all, night had fallen. As she tried to take a few steps in the ever deepening snow to see what she could see of any farm houses, or indeed any sort of habitation, she realised her feet were already beginning to grow numb. In a short skirt, flimsy sleeveless top, teetering heels and only ten denier tights, she was going nowhere. Briony was now frightened as fear and cold sent her shivering back to the car! She clambered back into the car, restarted the engine and offered up a silent prayer of thanks that at least the engine and heater still worked. She had no extra clothes for she had stormed out of their family home in a tearful rage.
She had only that evening, discovered that Arfon, her husband of only six years was having an affair and, after a huge row, she had stumbled angrily out of the house dragging Sion behind her as she carried Ellairy in her arms. She flung herself into her own little car and stormed off to her sisters’ house in Machynlleth. There was no way she could spend Christmas or indeed, another minute with her unfaithful pig of a husband.
Her decision to stay with her sister was in itself a reasonable idea, what was not reasonable was choosing to travel via the shorter mountain road from Llanidloes instead of taking the longer, safer, less exposed, main road via Caersws. Yes the mountain road was much shorter but it was prone to snow and December the 23rd was not a day to attempt it without some sort of ‘four-by-four’.
Now Briony had a night on a bare winter mountain to consider her wilful stupidity; and there were her children to think of as well. She slumped into bitter tears and sobs as she considered her fate and worse, the fate of her little ones. Occasionally, she ran the engine to keep warm but she sorely missed some extra coats especially for the children. Fortunately she he had remembered coats for them but she had left in such a rage she had forgotten hers. She pulled both children close to her in the drivers’ seat to share some warmth. Sleep was impossible but slowly, the deep winter cold began to take its toll. Eventually the fuel ran out and in the pitch darkness, she bundled the children up in their coats and persuaded them to go to sleep in the foot-well.
oooOOOooo
Chapter 2.
Dave was tired but secretly happy. After buying the ram at Shrewsbury market he had stopped to indulge himself at the shops on the retail park. New-look, Next, Primark and TK Max, had all lured him in with their bright lights and beautiful fashions, inevitably, he had succumbed. The passenger seat of his land-rover was full of wonderful creations and he looked forward to a Christmas of delight. Now, as he had stopped to eat the last of his sandwiches, he studied the skies over far away Plynlimmon Fawr, they threatened snow so he resumed the journey home. He wondered if it might not have been better to stop over at ‘The Bull’ in Trefeglwys. However, it was too late now; he was a few miles past Llawr-y-glyn and almost home as the snowstorm hit. He cursed as he felt the first whisper of a skid and changed into four-by-four traction control. Now the gears began to sing a slightly higher song as he wound his way over the first mini-bwlch into the tiny hamlet of Staylittle. There were no pubs with rooms in Staylittle, not even a shop or a garage so it was pointless stopping. Just a tiny collection of houses and precious little else. He measured the snow against a familiar fire-hydrant sign and frowned.
‘It was getting deep’, he thought. ‘Best push on; not far now and with his rack of roof lights to supplement his headlights, he should have a good view of a road he was totally familiar with.’
He looked at his watch and sighed to himself.
‘Eleven o’clock ... home by midnight, in bed by one; oh the luxury’!
He smiled inwardly at the thought of the silky new nightie he had bought. He would release the ram into the stable loose-box for the night and sort him out in the morning. He whispered affectionately to Jenny and Lassie his two sheep-dog bitches and they whined appreciatively in the passenger foot-well where the heater served to give them a life of luxury.
They had behaved perfectly all day and he promised them two big bowls of food when they got home. The dogs whined a little louder and wagged their tales. After again patting his bags of purchases with a deep thrill of satisfaction, he turned off the Staylittle road and began his mountain drive in earnest. Now it would require his full concentration. Before commencing the climb, he stopped and checked at the back to see if the ram was okay. It bleated gruffly and stamped its’ foot as Dave disturbed the door. Dave decided to leave the divider at the side to allow the ram all the room it wanted. There was no point in stressing the creature any more than necessary. He also slid back the cab ‘panel window’ so the ram could share some of the cab heat. Again it bleated gruffly and Dave grinned as it poked its nose into the open panel where its hot breath sent clouds of vapour into the cab. The ram was an important purchase to try and improve the flock he ran on the high mountain pastures.
He resumed the slow careful climb up the winding mountain road but soon the visibility became precarious. He sucked thoughtfully as he switched on his powerful roof rack lights and saw the snow thickening into heavy swirls of glittering flakes.
‘It was getting heavy.’ He thought. ‘Best push on.’ And he did, but not before redirecting a couple of the roof lights to pick out obstructions close to the side and immediately in front.
Slowly the miles crept by almost at walking pace as Dave picked his way delicately between the snowdrifts sometimes slipping a bit but always keeping momentum and going forward. Even though the switchbacks and mini-bwlchs became more and more exposed and the gusts shook the land-rover, Dave knew the road like the back of his hand and kept on course even when the road was completely covered in heavy snow and only the snow markers gave any hint of the route. Eventually he reached the summit of the pass and gave a silent vote of thanks.
‘Now he had only a few miles to go and all downhill. Albeit steep hills, so the dangers were not yet passed.’
Before starting the descent, he lightly dabbed his brakes and the land-rover slewed slightly, enough to demonstrate that the surface was treacherously slippy. Dave sighed and cursed silently for he had anticipated such conditions. He stopped the land-rover and set about attaching the chains in the screaming blizzard. He opened the bad-weather box behind the drivers’ door and quickly attached the chains to the wheels, a job he did often and had become quite expert at. After testing the traction again he gave a nod of satisfaction to the dogs.
“That’s better girls now we’ll get home alright. Are you looking forward to meeting Laddie?”
At the mention of the dogs’ name both bitches gave soft barks and their tails thumped against the foot-well panels as Dave now paid constant attention to the treacherous descent.
‘Who said dogs were dumb animals?’ He asked himself. ‘Hey-up! What the hell’s that?’
He frowned uncertainly as he slowly ground to a halt.
A large mound of snow stood where there shouldn’t have been a mound of snow and it seemed to be covering something in the hedge. He had never seen the snow gather on that particular corner before and he sat pondering it for a second or two then decided he could get past it. Slowly, he picked his way past the huge drift then suddenly; both bitches sat up on the passenger seat and started barking furiously.
“What’s got into you two?” Dave asked. He spoke to his dogs a lot for he lived alone in a remote farmhouse just a couple of miles further down the narrow valley.
The dogs continued whining and barking furiously then they started prancing about furiously and banging their noses against the land-rover door. Finally they started howling dementedly. Dave realised there was obviously something that had disturbed them so he stopped, reached across, and opened the door. Both dogs leapt out and went bounding back along the tyre tracks to bark excitedly at the large snow-drift. Dave decided to follow and soon found himself standing beside the snow drift as the dogs started digging furiously with their paws.
‘Must be some poor bloody sheep or something’, Dave thought, ‘hope they’re not mine. They shouldn’t be, not this high up ... and not in the middle of bloody winter. Did I miss some maybe, during the last roundup?’ He wondered.
Then, a large heap of snow toppled from the lop-sided drift to reveal a car roof and the dogs started barking frenziedly. Dave realised what had happened.
‘Some stupid idiot had tried to cross the mountains and crashed his bloody car.’
oOOOo
Chapter 3.
He plodded back through the snow, collected his shovel and returned to quickly excavate the rear of the car. Meanwhile the dogs continued barking furiously. Dave eventually heaved the rear door open and looked inside to see some long hair draped over the drivers’ headrest. He looked closer and recognised a comatose woman.
‘Bloody hell!’ He cursed. ‘How long’s she been here?’
He returned to his Landrover and changed his trainers for the his heavy boots as he realised getting to the passenger door involved trampling through some pretty nasty bramble bushes. He also grabbed the gloves and got himself properly equipped to do some real digging. Eventually, he had crushed a path through the snow, flattened the brambles and opened the drivers’ door. The woman still had not stirred and Dave realised she was comatose with hypothermia because she was still breathing. Carefully he lifted
her out of the car and half carried her - half dragged her, onto the road where he had a surer footing. Then he quickly placed her on his passenger seat and prepared to drive home. He whistled up the dogs but they refused to budge and resumed barking
furiously again.
‘What now?’ He wondered. ‘I didn’t see anybody else.’
He returned to the car with a torch, to find the dogs scrabbling in the dark of the passenger foot well. Then, as he focused the beam, he gasped with shock. Two tiny figures were curled up and also comatose with hypothermia.
‘Fuck me’, he cursed silently for Dave rarely swore. Getting a better purchase, he leant right in, grabbed the bundles and carried them to the land-rover. He eased the woman across the seats so that her head lay on his precious shopping, while her feet would be curled up foetal style. Then he told the dogs to sit on the seat whilst he carefully curled the two children down into the foot-well with their heads resting against the seat.
Next, he ‘wedged’ the dogs on either side and they whined curiously before getting the idea. Keep the babes warm. Finally he re-arranged the womans’ legs again then returned to the accident where he completed a thorough check and searched for any footprints that might have led away from the car to tell of somebody perhaps deciding to ‘go for help’. He found none but it had been snowing all evening and any footprints would have long been covered over by the snow. He half expected to find somebody waiting at the farm.
Job done he resumed his journey and started to carefully pick his way down the steep hill towards his farm gate. The land-rover lurched at one point but Dave was anticipating it for he knew the road well and this hairpin was particularly sharp. The ram however, was not expecting it and it gave off a loud, gruff, startled 'baaaa'! that sounded like a lions’ roar in the confined space of the Land-rover. The noise startled the waking woman and she sat bolt upright in shock. Confused and frightened she grunted then squealed.
“What the hell was that?! Who are you?! Where am I?!
Dave was startled for a moment and the dogs whined uncertainly at the sound of a distressed womans’ cry. He answered quickly.
“I’m Dai Cadwalloder. You are in my car and that was the sound of my ram. Who, might I ask, are you?”
She stared at him, still momentarily confused then replied.
“I’m Briony; Briony Davies.”
Without taking his eyes off the road Dave continued.
“Well, Briony Davies, might I be so bold as to ask what on earth you were doing driving on a road like this, on a night like this? In a car like that?”
“His question jogged her memory and she sat up to regard her rescuer as tears flooded her eyes.
“Where are my children, Ellairy and Sion?”
He switched on the courtesy light to illuminate the children.
“Still sleeping in the foot-well, between the dogs.”
She looked down and gasped then asked.
“Are they safe?”
“What, the children or the dogs?”
“The children you oaf!”
“Of course they’re safe ... and warm. That’s the warmest place! And ‘oaf’ is not something you should be calling somebody who has just saved your life. Another hour and you’d have all been dead ... frozen stiff!”
“Sorry. That was wrong of me.”
“Good, now shall we start again?”
“Where are you taking us?”
“To safety. The moors are not a place to be out in this weather, especially dressed like that!”
“You’re right, and for that I thank you, truly I do. So where are you taking me.”
“To my farm, I was on my way home when the dogs alerted me. It’s too dangerous to try going further. This snow’s set for the night and it’s getting worse every minute.
Briony stared at the swirling blizzard screaming through the powerful light beams and realised the man was not lying. The whole landscape had been softened into huge puff-balls of pure white snow. Briony could not recognise a single feature, hedge, road or anything. Then she remembered his remark about the dogs.
“The dogs? What d’you mean; they alerted you?”
“Yes, you’ve got them to thank, not me. We were passing what looked like just another unusual snow-drift and I was easing my land-rover past your car. It was completely buried by the snow. The pair sensed something that I would never have spotted. Barked like all hell, they did.”
Briony looked down at the dogs then smiled as she noticed that the children had slumped between them and were breathing blissfully with their heads pillowed on the dogs’ backs.
“They look comfortable.” Briony observed.
“Dogs make good bedfellows if you don’t mind fleas.”
“Uugh! Fleas!”
“Only teasing. No they’re just two nice warm cushions to complement the foot heater. Now, no talking, I turn off here, this is my lane and it’s a bit tricky down to the farm.”
Briony fell silent as she watched him navigate through a featureless waste of white. Eventually Dave turned between two very large stone gate-posts and picked his way down another smooth field of pristine snow. Briony could see no sign of a road. Dave sensed her uncertainty and reassured her.
“Don’t worry, I drive this track ten times a day. We’re here, there’s the farmhouse.”
She looked as some trees appeared out of the blinding snow then a sensor light flicked on in the farmyard and she was dazzled by the pure white snow as Dave stopped in a yard behind a large unlit farmhouse.
“We’re here. Let’s get these kids inside.”
Briony hesitated as she heard some deep hysterical barking then Dave called softly.
“Be quiet Laddie, it’s me and your wives.”
The barking dropped to an excited whining as Dave unlocked the door and immediately switched on the lights. This action told Briony that at least he probably owned the farm and was therefore telling the truth. She was still nervous though and the three dogs seemed to sense it.
Laddie jumped up while the bitches nosed against her bloodied legs and whined affectionately. Dave grinned and ordered the dogs to desist which they did immediately. Then he asked her to help him bring the children into the warmth of the kitchen. The children were now warm but still fast asleep so they carried them without waking them. Briony was grateful for the heat and the light and the large settee that sat incongruously at the back of the kitchen.
‘Strange place to have a settee,’ she thought as she placed the children on the soft cushions.
Then she heard the familiar noise of a kettle and the chink of china as mugs were produced.
“Tea or coffee?”
“Oooh, tea please, thank you.”
“Okay, you’d best sit by the AGA, that’ll warm you up. I’ve got to go and see to my ram. That was him in the back of the land-rover.”
“Oh. I see,” Briony smiled. “The ram that roars.”
Dave grinned then clicked his fingers and all three dogs pattered out eagerly behind him.
oOOOo
Chapter 4.
Suddenly Briony was alone except for her two children. She looked around the kitchen and noticed the lack of a woman’s touch. It was clean, in a rough, manly sort of way, but it lacked even the smallest refinement that might have betrayed a womans’ hand. She began to wonder if he lived alone and if she had not gone out of the frying pan into the fire then she scolded herself.
‘So far the poor man had shown nothing but respect and hospitality.’
The kettle began to sing it’s message and she found the makings exactly where she would have expected to find them. Everything was in its’ place and everything was clean. No tea-leaves or coffee grindings in the sugar, no yellow hard lumps in the sugar bowl. Everything was clean and presentable if a little rough and ready.
She heard some shouting and whistling in the yard and curiosity brought her to the kitchen door. She saw the three dogs surrounding the ram and it had no option but to retreat into the open stable door behind it. As the ram dashed through the door, Dave slammed it shut and praised his dogs.
“Good dogs; that was quick, now let’s get you fed.”
Briony retreated back to the kitchen and called out.
“How d’you like your tea?”
“Coffee for me Miss, three sugars and lots of milk.”
As she made the coffee, she heard the land-rover door slam and he appeared in the scullery with his hands full of the shopping she had noticed when she woke up in the cab. He was stacking it reverently on top of a kitchen unit as she walked in with the mug of coffee.
“Been shopping?”
Dave turned momentarily red then brazened it out with a well worn excuse.
“Yeah, Christmas presents for relatives. Can you pass me that bag of dog biscuits please?”
Briony nodded for it made perfect sense and she returned to the kitchen to drink her tea. As they sat in Windsor chairs either side of the Aga, it was the first time each of them had a chance to sum the other up.
Dave saw a rather attractive woman with shapely curves and a beautiful but tearful face. Briony saw a tallish, slender man, about five feet ten inches tall but slender and with a loose fall of thick, light brown hair. There was still some snow on it so she found a towel and handed it to him. He smiled and tousled his hair. This act reassured her a little as he next pressed his hands gratefully around the hot coffee mug and adjusted the settings on the AGA stove. She caught his eye and rummaged in her bag for her phone. As she pulled it out Dave shook his head.
“You won’t get a signal down here. We’re stuck here at least until the morning.”
A shiver ran down her spine as she sensed she was ‘cut off’ and isolated. Then she looked around the kitchen and her eyes lit on the ordinary land-line phone. This reassured her and she asked to use it.
“Please may I call my sister to let her know I’ll be late.”
“Go ahead, that’s what it’s there for.”
His reply reassured Briony. At least he had let her phone her sister so somebody would know where she was. Her sister answered and Briony secretly sighed with relief as she related events.
“What, you’ve crashed your car! Where? Are the children alright?”
“Yes, yes and hold on a minute.”
Briony asked Dave the address of the farm and he told her. Then she noticed some letters on the sideboard and discreetly double checked the address. Dave had not lied and this was the final reassurance. Not once had he shown any suspicious behaviour. She explained to her sister that she was stuck for the night and she’d speak in the morning. Her mobile wasn’t working and then Dave explained they were so remote that there was no signal down in the valley.
“You can get a signal up on the hill but not down here.” He explained. “Tomorrow when we go to see about your car, you should be able to phone from the hill up above where you crashed.”
She nodded and drank the last of her tea as the children stirred.
Sion blinked and rubbed his eyes.
“Where are we Mummy?”
“You’re in a place called Plas Craig Glas, wherever that is darling. This nice man rescued us and we’re staying the night in his farm.”
Sions’ sleepy eyes widened as he stood unsteadily and stumbled towards his mother. Dave reached out to save him and the boy tensed as he fell into Daves’ arms. He struggled nervously and Dave released him immediately. The boy flew into his mothers’ arms and remained there whilst staring nervously at the stranger. Briony caught Daves’ eye and mouthed.
‘He’s a bit nervous of men.’
Dave said nothing and simply nodded uncertainly. As an only child brought up on large lonely farm, high in the Welsh hills; he had little experience of children. He lived alone now that his father had died, for his mother had died in childbirth having his younger sister who had also died. Dave had never known what it was like to share a home with other siblings. He sat watching Briony hugging the boy and turned to stare reflectively at the glow of flickering flames as the AGA responded to another charge of fuel. He also picked a couple of logs to add to the fire because the stove was ‘multi-fuel’ and it increased the flames.
When the dogs heard the clunk of the oven door they strolled in and took up their familiar stations without so much as a by-your-leave as they settled in a huddle close to the heat source. Dave smiled as he noticed Sion studying the dogs. He caught Brionys’ eye and nodded towards the dogs. She smiled as the boy leaned forward.
“D’you want to stroke them?” Dave asked Sion.
The boy looked up, turned to check with his mother then nodded solemnly.
“They won’t bite.” Dave added. “The blue one is the nicest. She’s the mother of the small one with the eye patch.”
Sion looked up again and remarked.
“She looks grey and silver to me.”
Dave smiled and nodded.
Well; yes Sion, your right. She is grey and silver but we farmers call her a blue. She’s got a nice coloured coat hasn’t she?”
Sion smiled and turned to lean into his mothers’ knee. He had half expected the man to be angry because he had contradicted him about the colours. Briony gave her son another hug and then released him as he tentatively reached out to touch Lassie. Lassie raised a single eyebrow then wagged her tail softly. It was almost as if the bitch knew the boy was traumatised. He remained at his mothers’ knee but the bitch was not to be denied an extra ration of affection. She stood up and padded to the boy who tentatively touched her. The touches soon turned to strokes and within a minute, the boy was surrounded by three dogs all demanding attention. Within two minutes, the boy was sat cross —legged at his mothers’ feet with dogs and wagging tails all around him. Sion was in heaven.
“Does he want some supper?” Dave asked Briony.
“Oh I don’t want to be too much trouble.”
“It’s no trouble, only some buttered toast and jam; and maybe some hot drinking chocolate.”
Sions eyes widened hopefully as he asked.
“Is that like cocoa?”
“More or less lad, d’you want some?”
Sion turned expectantly to his mother who smiled and nodded. Dave stood up, pointed out the cocoa so that Briony could attend to that as he pulled out a thick-cut sliced loaf and started making toast. Then he turned to Briony again.
“What about the baby? Will she like toast?”
Briony giggled.
“Gosh no! She’s not on solids yet.”
“Oh. Oh I’m sorry. I don’t have any milk here. I’ll have to go to the deep freeze. It’ll take some time to thaw though.”
Briony blushed deep red then confessed.
“I’ve got her milk David.”
It was Daves’ turn to blush and he turned away in embarrassment to concentrate on the toast. Briony finished making the cocoa then spoke softly.
“Is there another room? Somewhere I can feed her.”
Dave blushed deep red again.
“Well there’s the living room, but there’s no fire in there. I sort of wasn’t expecting guests. I can get you a thick blanket maybe and you can uuhhm — uuhhm ... you can do it under that. I’ll leave the room if you wish.”
“And where will you go?”
“Upstairs. I’ll have to prepare an extra bedroom anyway.” I’ll do that while you feed her.
Then Briony had a more disturbing thought.
“Dammit! Her nappies are in the boot of the car.”
Daves’ face fell.
“I can’t help you there.”
Briony had a think then ventured a request.
“Have you got some old towels? I could fashion something up out of that.”
“There’ll be something in the airing cupboard.”
So saying he almost bolted from the room and returned within seconds with a huge blanket. Briony gratefully pulled it around her shoulders and thanked him as he left again to allow her privacy. While he was gone, she fed Ellairy while Sion played with the dogs.
oOOOo
Chapter 5.
Half an hour later he knocked on the kitchen door and Briony gave the ‘all clear’. He entered with a towel cut up into squares and ruefully offered them to her.
“These should be big enough. My cousin used terry towelling nappies about this size for her children."
Briony took them gratefully and promptly changed her daughter using a bowl of warm water and soap to clean her. Dave looked on slightly embarrassed and somewhat apologetically.
“I’m sorry, there’s no baby stuff here. I live alone.”
Briony nodded, finished changing the nappy then re-fixed the waterproof knickers. Fortunately, Ellairy was pretty dry through the night. She was close to being potty trained.
After that essential job was completed, Briony discussed sleeping arrangements. Dave explained.
“I’ve turned the heating on in the next room to mine and the bed is airing now. It’s all newly laundered and dry bedding. There’s an en-suite as well so you’ll be okay in there."
“Where will the children sleep?”
“They’ll have to sleep with you. It's a big double bed. It’s the best I can do for tonight. We’ll sort out the rest in the morning.”
Briony smiled and nodded sleepily. Events were beginning to overtake her. Dave offered to carry the baby to the spare bedroom and Briony gratefully followed as she towed Sion upstairs to the appointed bedroom.
They arrived on a large landing that seemed out of place for a farmhouse but Briony was just grateful to have a room and a bed.
Later as she lay in bed she was able to take stock of her room. The ceilings were unusually high and the old oak doors seemed overly ornate. Her last recollections was of the storm still howling outside the window as she snuggled up and fell asleep.
The Ram 2
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Here's Part 2 of 'The Ram'.
It's really just a sort of TG 'Mills and Boon' about a relationship that eventually developes between two people.
Chapter 6.
Briony woke to find the room painfully bright. She squinted her eyes for a moment then turned to see two little heads still fast asleep on the pillow beside her. She smiled to see them sleeping so sweetly then turned to the window whence the brightness was coming. She padded across the old carpet and then onto polished oak floorboards before reaching the open curtains and pulling the nets aside. The whiteness dazzled her for the mid-morning sun was reflecting of a vast sheet of pristine white snow. Briony gasped at the spectacular view that stretched to a mountain that she would later learn was Plynlimon Fawr. Then as she looked sideways to comprehend the complete vista she noticed the mullions of a bay window that obviously belonged to the bedroom next door. The Farm house was seemingly a little bigger than she had first thought.
She turned away thoughtfully as her bladder made its’ demands and gratefully availed herself of the pleasures of the en-suite bathroom. It was well appointed and she luxuriated in the facilities until a little body appeared at the door. She smiled at her son who smiled back and reported excitedly, it’s all white outside. The snow’s everywhere. Brionys’ heart melted as she picked him up and held him to her own naked body.
You have a shower darling while I sort out your sister. The shower is lovely and warm and there’s a telephone nozzle to play with. Sion peered inside the warm cubicle and accepted the invitation as Briony attended to Ellairy.
Eventually she had the children washed and then dressed in the same clothes and underwear as the day before for there were no changes of clothes. Worse still she had no changes of clothes, especially knickers. Next she ventured out onto the landing and noticed the several doors leading off. She knew the next room to be Daves’ bedroom and the next door after that led to the stairs that went down to the kitchen. Being a woman, naturally she was curious about the other two doors, one across the landing and an even larger door to the side. Cautiously, she tested the large side door and it creaked open. What she found left her stunned. The door opened onto a corridor that led off about a hundred and fifty feet with doors on either side.
The house was huge! It wasn’t a bloody farm it was a country mansion. Then she remembered the name Plas Craig Las. It was Welsh for Blue-rock Hall. It was a hall, a proper Stately home.
‘And the bugger never said a word!’ she mused.
Then she reflected. They had arrived in the thick of a blinding snow storm at the dead of night. There would have been no need for explanations. Besides, his main concern had been to see her and the children right and he had done that diligently. A wave of guilt swept over her for now she felt like some sort of trespasser intruding upon the mans life. He had shown her nothing but respect and support and she had done nothing but distrust him. The poor bugger had done nothing wrong. She retreated back to the landing, collected the children and went down to the kitchen. She realised now that these were the ‘back stairs’.
She entered the kitchen to find Dave just returning with the dogs and stamping the snow off his boots. Eager to offer some sort of ‘thank you’, she offered him coffee.
“Oooh yes please,” he replied with an enthusiasm that warmed her and made her feel worthwhile.
“It’s deep out there. I’ll have to get the tractor to go and get your car.”
She nodded, grateful that he was thinking of her dilemma.
“Shall I get you some breakfast?”
“Ooooh, I had that early this morning. I’ve fed the sheep in the back paddocks, seen to the ram and the other animals. I’ll get you some breakfast though.”
“Oh no, please. If you’ll just show me where the stuff is. I’ll make us an early lunch, for you as well.”
“You slept well then I gather.”
Briony crimsoned guiltily.
“Yes, rather. I’m sorry, yesterday knocked the stuffing out of me.”
“Well, all’s well that ends well. As my dad used to say.” He replied as he showed her the chest freezer in the utility room and produced the makings for lunch.
“Beef, lamb or pork or chicken?” He asked.
“Oh. I was thinking of just a quick bite, then recover the car and make my way to Machynlleth.”
“Uuuhm, I’m sorry to tell you this Briony but nobody’s going anywhere in this. The snow’s nearly three feet deep where it’s lying. The drifts are up to ten feet!”
Briony stared at him and gasped.
“But it’s Christmas eve. I’ve got to get to Elsbeth, my sister.”
Dave wagged his head and repeated.
“Well I’m sorry love. We are truly snowed in. The tractor will go through this but not even the land-rover is man enough.
I’ll be snow-ploughing my section of the road until the sun sets today then all day tomorrow.”
“What! Christmas Day!”
“Ah, no. That’s a thought. I’d forgotten we were so close to Christmas. No, I’m not working on Christmas day. Nobody would be stupid enough to want to cross these mountains on Christmas day. No sensible family would do that. Sensible families are all cozied up by the fire or eating turkey and pudding or whatever.”
“So what will you be doing, where’s your family?”
Dave fell silent then shrugged. Briony sensed there was almost a feeling of resignation or defeat about his reaction. Then he replied.
“I don’t have any family. I Live alone.”
“What! Up here? Right up in the mountains.”
“Suits me,” Dave replied. “I don’t get bothered by people and I get to do my own thing.”
Even as he slipped it out, he regretted it. His regrets were justified,
“Your own thing? And what might that thing be?”
Dave hesitated then replied cautiously.
“Nothing much. The farm mainly,” he lied. “There’s always stuff to do, I was out this morning checking the animals. I’ll be out again after lunch, checking your car for one thing.” There’s always something demanding my time and attention. So what’s it to be; for lunch that is?”
“I’ve got to feed Ellairy first. If you can get the stuff, I’m sure I can knock something up.”
“Sounds like a deal. I’ve heated the dining room this morning so you’ll have somewhere private. It’s through that passageway and first left.” Dave grinned and went to the pantry just off the utility room.
After selecting a nice shoulder of lamb he picked some vegetables and started preparing the food. By the time Briony was finished with feeding and changing Ellairy he had the meat defrosted and the veg peeled. He had also given Sion a large bowl of porridge. Briony was secretly impressed. The porridge bowl was empty which meant Sion had obviously enjoyed it and the boy was sprawled on the settee playing with the three dogs. Dave turned as Briony emerged from the dining room. Having seen the roaring fire and the beautiful antique dining set in the dining room, she felt confident to comment about the house. To have done so before might have revealed that she had had a little snoop.
“That’s a lovely dining room suite and the room is so large.”
“Yes, I tend only to use that room, the drawing room and the kitchen area.” Dave replied without thinking.
“The drawing room. That sounds very posh!” Briony giggled, secretly hoping that he would open up about the house; for the more she saw from the inside, the more she wanted to explore the rest and see it from the outside. She struck on an idea.
“I think Sion would love to go outside with the dogs. They’ve got spare clothes in the boot of the car. It’s just me that’s stymied. All I’ve got is the stuff I’m standing in.”
Dave paused and stared thoughtfully into the AGAs’ oven as he slipped in the lamb. Then he drew a long slow nervous breath.
“I might have a coat for you. It’s a bush-mans’ coat that a friend once left. It might fit you.”
“Anything’s better than nothing. What about shoes?”
“Doubt it, unless you borrow a pair of my wellies and some extra socks.”
“I could try. It would be lovely just to walk through that pristine snow outside my bedroom window. I saw a set of animal tracks.”
“Probably a fox.” Dave shrugged as he closed the oven, set the timer and stood up as he wiped his hands on a cloth.
“There. I’m afraid that’ll be about an hour. Just time for me to get the tractor out and check your car. Sion can come out on the tractor if you’re happy about that. It’s a closed cab with a dickie seat. Quite safe, even for a little-un.”
Briony turned to Sion whose’ eyes lit up at the idea of a ride through the snow on the tractor. She saw the boys’ desperately hopeful pleading in his eyes and felt her heart melt.
‘How could she deny her boy an adventure like that?’ She asked herself.
“You’ll look after him wont you?” She begged.
Dave sensed Brionys’ hidden concerns and felt disappointed that she still did not trust him.
“Are you afraid for him? Honestly, I don’t bite. I’m not the mad Welsh child snatcher.”
Briony immediately felt guilty. Dave had obviously sensed her concerns; but then they were the legitimate concerns of any mother.
“Sorry Dave, but I worry for him. He’s had a rough time with his father. The man’s a bit of a bully.”
“Is that what the dash across the mountain was about?”
Briony fell silent as the anger started to bubble up. Not with the man in front of her but the man she had just left. Dave quickly sensed her distress and apologised.
“Sorry love. Not my business. D’you feel happy about the boy coming on the tractor?” He asked, hoping to change the subject.
Briony sucked her lip, turned to see her sons’ pleading eyes and relented.
“Okay then, but please, pleeease be careful with him.”
“Will do. Laddie, Lassie, Jenny. Work!”
The dogs erupted off the settee and startled Sion with their enthusiasm. Briony thought the dogs would have far preferred to stay in the warm kitchen. Dave turned at the door.
“Get him dressed while I sort the tractor out.”
With that he was out the door with the dogs darting furiously about the yard. As Briony was just finishing Sions’ shoes, a roar announced the tractors’ arrival. She opened the kitchen door to find an immense yellow beast with wheels about eight feet high and a huge bucket attached to the front. At the back it also sported a ‘bucket hoe’ on an immense hydraulic arm.
The roar settled to a soft, purposeful ‘burble’ and Dave stepped down. Sion tensed in Brionys arms until he saw the man emerge from the beast and climb down a small set of steps. It was only then that the boy realised that the huge yellow beast was actually a giant car. His eyes widened with excitement and he reached out to be taken in Daves’ arms. It was the first time that Briony had ever felt her boy willingly and enthusiastically reach out to be held by a man. Her own eyes widened with happiness as man and boy clambered back up the ladder and Sion was perched on a dickie seat that also serves as a second operators’ seat when the tractor was involved in more complex operations. There was even a safety belt and Briony felt her whole body relax from the tension as she watched her son twist and turn to study the view from his lofty, weather tight perch. His face widened with an immense smile as the tractor smoothly started through the snow with the dogs barking excitedly in the immense tyre tracks it left behind. The ground clearance was all of three feet and the belly of the beast only grazed the snows’ surface. She watched it roll with effortless ease up the field track that they had lurched and bounced down the previous evening then it disappeared onto the high hedged road snow blocked road. She heard the engine roaring its power but it was gone from sight.
Her mind then turned to looking about the house and she fed Ellairy quickly for her curiosity was burning her up. Fortunately, she didn’t need changing so she laid her baby on the large double bed and eagerly set about wandering about the house.
The long corridor proved to be a veritable wonderland of surprises for each door led off to a bedroom with en-suite bathroom and one even had a large walk-in wardrobe. As she entered this room she was pleasantly surprised to note that it did not smell musty like the other rooms; indeed it had obviously been recently used. The wardrobe was full of ladies clothes, shoes and some make-up lay on a dressing table by the bay window.
‘A visiting relative,’ she wondered, ‘or even a girlfriend,’ and she began to feel a tingle of totally irrational jealousy. Whoever the girl was she only wore size twelve or fourteen dresses and sized eight to nine shoes. The girl was obviously also some sort of party animal for the clothes were modern and very revealing. Briony checked out the labels where she was impressed by the range and quality of the goods ... from cheap and cheerful to some rather smart and classy expensive stuff.
‘This girl’s got taste’, she thought enviously, ‘and money. Big feet though.’
Then she had a thought. Those dresses would fit her and he might not notice. After all what man remembered what dresses his girlfriend or relatives last wore then she remembered and cursed silently. She had already told him she had no changes of clothes. Reluctantly, she changed back into her original clothes but not before ‘borrowing’ a pair of ‘sensible’ cotton briefs from one of the several lingerie drawers.
‘He would be unlikely to think of knickers’, she thought as she slipped back to her own bedroom and washed her used knickers in the basin. Feeling slightly cleaner and refreshed she took Ellairy down stairs, wedged her on the settee with some cushions then started in on the lunch. The lamb was timed to come out in about a quarter of an hour and Dave had said he’d be back by then.
‘B’out two-ish,’ she calculated as she set the table in the dining room. She grinned as she wondered how to do it. ‘Should she play ‘lady-of-the-manor’ and sit at the opposite end, or should she sit right next to him in the ‘carver chair’. She decided to sit next to him, it would be silly to be calling to each other up and down the table, particularly as there seemed to be no servants. She laid Sions place next to her and returned to the kitchen.
The meat was just about ready to come out as she hear the tractor growling down the farm lane so she served the veg into bowls ready to lay on the table. The large hot surfaces of the AGA proved perfect for keeping the food hot without spoiling it and she smiled as Sion came in almost prancing with excitement while Dave followed with the dogs obediently to heel. She caught Daves’ eye and raised a questioning eyebrow. Dave just smiled enigmatically and spoke softly as he cast his eyes sideways with a telltale grin.
“He helped.”
Briony got the jist of it and smiled at her grubby five-year-old son. As she took out the lamb, Sion chattered away twenty to the dozen about his great adventure.
“I ended up over my head in snow mummy.”
“Any cuts or scratches?” Asked Briony.
“No. I had to pull the rope and pass it to Dave. Then I had to crawl through the snow with the rope back to the tractor. Dave was under the car looking at the wheels”
“Mr Cadwalloder to you young man,” Briony scolded him gently. “You just watch your manners.”
Sion took little notice and chattered on excitedly about his great adventure while Dave helped serve out the meal. Briony had half an ear to Sions’ epistle while she listened to Dave relate the really bad news.
“The front suspension’s completely shot. You hit a concrete kerbstone as you passed over the drain and slewed into the hedge. The left hand damper arm bolt has sheared. Car’s not going anywhere until the snow clears and I can get it to Llanidloes or Machynlleth ... and that won’t be until each of us farmers has cleared our parts of the road. Once that’s clear I’ll be able to use the back hoe arm to suspend the front of the car as I tow it.”
Briony cursed softly and Dave shrugged sympathetically before changing the subject.
“Let’s eat. I’m starving and I’ll bet his nibs is too. Cold weather soon burns off the food. Is Ellairy uuuhhm ... you know, fed?”
“Fed and changed. Where’s the car now?”
“In the barn.” I’ve cleared a couple of paths for crossing the yard.
Briony nodded appreciatively. She would be able to get into the boot to gather some essentials for the children. They then sat down to lunch and a silence descended as all three relished their food. Briony smiled inwardly as Sion chattered on incessantly about rescuing the car, she had never seen him so excited or happy whilst he ate his meal and actually asked for more.
Dave grinned at Briony and explained. “Working in the cold gives everybody an appetite.”
“Did he really crawl through the snow?”
Dave smiled; the boy had told a half truth.
“Well, yes; he slipped on the ice whilst pulling the rope back to the hook on the back-hoe. Then he was on his hands and knees for a few feet as he recovered the rope. He did very well though. I was impressed. Never cried once about the cold and believe me, it was cold!”
He smiled again and complimented Sion again.
“You did very well lad. We’ll make a mechanic of you yet.”
Sion beamed a smile which almost burst Brionys’ heart with joy. The boy had never received such a compliment from his father.
oOOOo
Chapter 7.
With the meal over, Briony recovered the childrens’ spare clothes and Ellairys’ changing bag with the pack of disposable nappies from the boot. As she rummaged for the essentials she suddenly had an idea. She could borrow one of those dresses from the wardrobe and pretend it was a dress she’d forgotten about.
Once back in the house she was mildly surprised to see that Dave had sorted the clearing away and dish-washer was muttering busily away in the corner.
“Oh, I was going to do that.”
“It’s done. I usually do it anyway. Nobody else here normally. Does Sion want to come and feed Jessica and Pansy?”
Briony smiled uncertainly.
“Who’s Jessica and Pansy?”
“The sows in the sty next to the stable where the ram is kept.” They get the table scraps from all my meals. They’ll know it’s Christmas when they see this lot. Normally it’s just my leavings plus her pig cake.”
“Do they get cake?” Sion piped up.
Dave grinned as he explained.
“Sorry scamp. It’s not that sort of cake. I’ll show you when we feed them. D’you want to come?”
Sion turned expectantly to his mother who just couldn’t refuse his appealing beseechment. She could hardly believe she was letting her precious little boy go into a barn with a man she had not known for a day yet.
“What sort of cake is it?” Briony asked.
“It’s just processed grain feed. Same as cattle cake or milk nuts. Processed pellets or chunks of concentrated protein and stuff to fatten the animals. Gone are the days when animals amble idly around some lush green pasture. Anyway, it’s winter in them there hills and all the animals are kept in shelter close to the farm. Logistics.”
“What animals have you got then?”
“Sheep mainly; few thousand of those. Then Jessica and Pansy the pigs and Angel my mare. Plus the dogs of course. Oh and there’s some cats knocking around but they rarely come into the house, especially if there’s visitors. They feed well in the barns on mice and stuff though I put food out for them and they’ll come to me when I call them. They’re sort of pets but only respond to me. You won’t see hide nor hair of them.”
Briony ignored the cat information, the revelation that he owned a mare interested her.
“You’ve got a horse!”
“Yes. She’s ideal for checking the hills when the sheep are on the higher pastures.”
“I thought you’d use a quad bike or something. That’s what the hill farmers use on television.”
“It’s pointless. Waste of fuel. If I need a vehicle there’s the tractor and the Landrover. If I’m out feeding them on the hills it’s usually a big load of feed; too much for a quad-bike. There’s thousands of sheep. This is a big farm.”
“How big?” Briony asked hoping somehow to bring the conversation around to the house and its size.”
“There’s about seven thousand acres of high rough moorland pasture. I have the grazing rights to that and I own about three thousand acres outright. I’ve also got about three hundred acres in the valley, better ground and good for growing hay as winter fodder. That’s where the sheep are now. Cledwyn my next door neighbour owns some of the grazing area about two thousand acres.
I will be buying Cledwyns’ farm soon. He’s ill and there’s only one daughter there. She’s not interested in farming. I’m already managing his flock cos he’s too sick to go out in this sort of weather. Cledwyn and my dad went back a long way. They were good friends. I owe it to Cledwyn to see his farm goes to a good keeper. He’s more than happy to sell it to me and leave the money to Blodwen. Our dads always hoped we’d marry but it’s not to be.”
“So there’s no woman to run the farmhouse then.” Briony observed.
Dave shrugged.
“I’m pretty much self sufficient. It’s easy to keep on top of the house when I’m running two farms ... well two flocks anyway. The needs of the farm and farm buildings pretty much compliment the needs of the house. The house is in good repair and I don’t use all of it.”
“All of it?” Briony asked seemingly surprised. “What d’you mean, all of it?”
Dave paused as he realised Briony had not (to his knowledge,) been around the main parts of the house.
“Oh. I didn’t realise. You’ve only seen the East wing. I’ll give you a tour after we’ve fed Jessica and Pansy. You’d better come and make your acquaintance with their majesties, oh and meet Angel as well. I’d best just check on her again.”
Briony smiled inwardly, ‘a man who had names for his animals could hardly be a man who maltreated them and usually, a man who was kind to animals was kind to kids.’
Then she stopped and shook her head.
‘What was she thinking!!!? This was a man who lived as a virtual hermit. How on earth could she be thinking what she was thinking?” She asked herself. ‘No! There was no way this man could fill the chasm that had opened up in her life. A welsh mountain farmer lived one of the hardest lives in Britain. Just look at the weather! The snow!!’
Wagging her head again she could not believe what had just sneaked through her mind. It was unthinkable!
Dave had not noticed her reactions for he had been rooting through a rack of coats and boots to find her something suitable. He lent her the best fitting outdoor coat they could find and a pair of size nine wellies with extra socks. She felt ready to face the elements if it only meant crossing the yard. She was grateful she took a size six to seven shoe for his wellingtons were not too outsized and she managed pretty well. With Ellairy tucked safely into a hikers’ rucksack on Daves’ shoulders they set off across the yard to the sty and the stable. Briony was enchanted by Angel then secretly amused by Jessica and Pansy. Sion was lifted onto Angels’ bare back and he sat entranced as the mare turned her head to nuzzle his knee. Dave produced a couple of sugar lumps seemingly from nowhere and that was the visit to the mare’s loosebox complete.
‘Next the pigs’ She grinned inwardly as a loud squeal announced Jessica and Pansys’ expectations.
Sion scampered on ahead to meet the sows as they reared up on hind legs to stick their heads above the sty wall. When Briony arrived it presented the classic, old fashioned image of pigs in a sty. Briony was also mildly surprised to find there was little smell, just an earthy musty tang. When she had passed some intensive pig rearing farms in the country the stink had been abominable. She looked over the wall and found no evidence of any faeces.
“How come they don’t smell?” Briony asked.
“There’s a door at the other end to the sty. They’ve got access to a large paddock outside. They’ll use one corner for their business and the rest of the paddock is their playground. In summer they can also use the woods down by the stream. It’s ring fenced so they’re safe and no walkers or soldiers exercising are likely to come across them. Pigs are relatively clean animals if they’re allowed to be.”
As he spoke, Dave ‘finger-fed’ both sows who grunted appreciatively until the veg peelings was exhausted. Then he dumped the left-over cooked food into a big trough and the pigs competed eagerly for the tastiest bits.
“Job done.” He declared. “So I suppose that now you want the grand tour?”
“How big is it.” Briony asked, maintaining the pretence of ignorance.”
Dave shrugged somewhat self-consciously.
“Perhaps you’d better start on the outside. That’s how visitors usually see the house as they arrive. Yours was a somewhat unusual introduction. Come on.”
He ‘snow-ploughed’ his boots through the deep unspoiled snow and Briony thought it was a pity to spoil such a pristine, pure-white image of what she presumed to be lawns at the front of the house. Sion however, had no such qualms and he eagerly stomped along in Daves’ footsteps so she felt obliged to follow. She stopped to gasp at the front facade then Dave described the lay-out and pointed out where the gentleman’s approach would normally be if it wasn’t completely covered by the snow. Finally he led her right around the house until she returned back to the farm-yard. And the welcome warmth of the kitchen. After shedding their coats all three walkers stood warming their backsides against the rail of the Aga while Briony nursed Ellairy in her arms.
“It’s huge,” she remarked as Dave started in on some tea.
“I’ll show you the rest of the house after we’ve drunk the tea.”
“I’d love that!” Briony replied secretly hoping that she could ‘discover’ the wardrobe full of clothes and then borrow something good. She was beginning to feel a bit scruffy and smelly in her blouse and skirt. Jeans would have been far more practical in these conditions and a pair of those seventy denier tights she had seen in the fourth drawer down. She had secretly noted they were still in their cellophane wrapping.
‘A warmer top would be welcome too.’ She decided. ‘Pity about the shoes being so large but at least she might be able to change her clothes.’
After the tea she stood a little too eagerly and loomed over Dave expectantly.
“Well. Sion’s watching the tele and Ellairy’s asleep. So, do I get to see what women love to see? The inside?”
Dave smiled indulgently and sighed with amusement.
“Girls! You’re all the same aren’t you? Come on then Every other visitor loves to have a snoop. No criticisms mind. I don’t use the rest of the house much but I switched on the heating this morning so it’ll be warm, even in this weather. I’ll explain later.
Even as she opened the door to the passageway that led into the main part of the house, Briony was pleasantly surprised to feel that it was as nearly as warm as the kitchen. She had half expected the rest of the house to look like Doctor Zhivagos’ Dacha in the Russian winter. Instead, the dining room, which of course she already knew, was pleasantly warm. They had lunched on the kitchen table earlier. She stood briefly in the large bay window and savoured the view again that stretched across the hills all the way to Plynlimmon Fawr. It seemed a pity that they had tramped through it and destroyed the glistening white perfection. It was still bitterly cold outside then she realised there was a draft of warm air coming from some vents below the window.
“Oooh that feels nice. Is the whole house heated like this?”
Dave nodded as he stood idly studying a painting on the wall. Briony followed his absent minded gaze.
“Who’s that, one of the ancestors or something?”
“Exactly that.” Dave replied without explaining further.
Briony sensed that he wasn’t that impressed with having to explain the family history so she didn’t ask any further. Dave simply opened the door and invited her to see further. The more she saw the more she realised that Dave was not your normal ‘run-of-the-mill’ Welsh hill farmer.
‘This guy owned land and plenty of it.’ She wondered if he had some sort of title but refrained from asking. She remembered reading somewhere that ‘these sorts of people’ were often reluctant to talk about their wealth.
Eventually, upstairs, they came to the room where Briony had found the clothes. She hesitated, wondering if she’d give away her curiosity by asking specifically to see it.
Then she realised it was a corner room with windows looking both south and west. She used this as an excuse to enter.
“This is the corner of the house isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s just another bedroom.”
She sensed him stiffen ever so slightly as he seemed to be trying to appear casual.
‘There’s definitely something about this room’, she thought and this made her more curious.
“What’s the view like at the end of the house then, from up here? This room is on the corner isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Dave replied monosyllabically.
“Can I see please? It must be one of the best bedrooms in the house.”
She sensed him tense a bit more but he hid it well and shrugged as though indifferent.
“Okay, there’s not much to see.”
He opened the door and Briony confirmed her earlier impressions. This had been used and quite recently. For a start, the bed was made up with some rather evocative satin sheets. So far the only satin sheets in all the bedrooms. The dressing table also had a few items of makeup still lying around. This gave her an excuse to be a little nosier.
‘Who was the mystery woman?’ She wondered.
She ambled casually forward and picked up some lipstick.
“Does she come here often?”
Dave studiously stayed unconcerned but to Brionys’ female sensibilities she could sense his discomfort as he explained.
“She’s a friend; she’s not here at the moment. Christmas at home I suppose. I expect I’ll see her in the New Year if the snow clears.”
Briony smiled and swept her hand over the satin sheets.
“She likes her comfort doesn’t she?”
“She’s a good friend and yes, sometimes we do. Not always though.”
“As the mood takes her then,” Briony finished.
“Or me,” Dave added.
With that avenue of investigation closed, Briony searched her mind for another opening; another shaft of light to illuminate Dave’s seemingly secret side. She noticed the two doors leading off and used that ploy.
“Why two doors? I’m understanding that one’s an en-suite, what’s the other. Does it lead up to that little turret we saw?”
“No, that’s from the next bedroom. This is just a wardrobe. My parents used to use this as their master bedroom. You’re right though, this is the best bedroom.” He replied as he stared reflectively out of the west facing window.
He was standing with his back to Briony so she seized the opportunity to open the wardrobe door before he realised what was happening. She discovered the clothes and turned to make a comment just as he turned, realised what she had done, and almost lurched to close the door before he realised it was too late.
“They’re her clothes,” he gabbled as he laid his hand upon the door. “She leaves some here so she doesn’t have to carry a lot.”
Briony stood looking at the clothes then exercised her womans’ prerogative to look further.
“There’s a hell of a lot of clothes here. She must be a fashion model or something.”
“Uuuhm. I rather think she’d be a bit upset if she thought some other woman was poking through her wardrobe. She keeps them here because she doesn’t like carrying a lot.”
“What’s her name?”
Daves’ brief hesitancy gave Briony more cause for thought. Then he blurted it out.
He blurted out his own femme name as he realised she would be curious as to why he didn’t seem to know her name easily.
“It’s Daphne.”
“You seemed a bit hesitant.”
“She’s a little bit embarrassed by her name. I wasn’t sure if I should tell you. Now please, I’d like you to respect her privacy.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Personal is it.”
“Well, sort of. There’s nothing illicit though, she’s not married or anything. She’s got a right to privacy.”
Briony realised she had crossed the bounds of good behaviour as a guest and particularly as an unexpected, uninvited guest. She smiled to reassure him then closed the door and followed him on the rest of the tour. From the little turret she was given a splendid full-circle panorama of the whole valley to the north and Plynlimmon Fawr to the south. The views stretched for miles and she was impressed.
‘If Daphne managed to capture this mans’ heart, she would be a very lucky woman.’
Briony felt the tiniest twinge of jealousy and silently scolded herself for it. Now she knew there was ‘another woman’ and seemingly well entrenched in Dave’s affections. All thoughts of going further with him were to be discarded. She swept the horizons one last time and turned to him.
“Lord of all you survey.”
“Gosh. Not quite. Plynlimon’s about eight miles away. Most of the land is owned by the various water authorities. There’s some big dams south of us, Clywedog and Nant y Moch. Cledwyn and I only own the grazing rights. They’re grandfather rights and the authorities cannot take them off us unless we sell them. That’s why Cledwyn wants to sell his farm and the grazing rights to me. The people around here never forgave the water authorities for drowning the valleys.”
He saw her shiver and slipped his jacket off to keep her warm. Briony was not surprised it was a pretty good fit. Dave was quite slender despite his height. ‘Willowy’ was how she would have described him.
They retreated back to the warmth of the house and she put the kettle on for an afternoon tea. Sion actually got up from watching the television and asked Dave if they could feed the pigs again. Dave chuckled and grinned.
“Not now lad. Later tonight aye. When I feed Angel, Jessica, Pansy and the ram as well.”
“What’s the rams’ name?”
Once again Dave smiled.
“I haven’t named him yet. You can choose a name if you want.”
Sions eyes lit up and he leapt onto the settee beside Dave.
“Oooh! Can I? Honestly!”
“I said you could and you can. I try not to break promises. Have a chat with your mum if you can’t think of one. It’ll have to be a boys’ name though.”
Briony smiled and handed Dave the tea as she settled on the settee with the boy between them. Sion seemed to melt happily into the space and leant back with his legs over his mothers’ lap and his back against Daves’ chest. She looked at him and he smiled up at her. Then she looked at Dave.
“You’re honoured. He likes you.”
Dave just shrugged self-consciously. There was little he could say to that.
The Ram 3
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Here's chapter three. I'm winging this one. I've only just finished chapter three this evening. I know roughly where I'm going but I'm letting the story take me where it will.
Enjoy.
Beverly.
The Ram 3.
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her five-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month-old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave. Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
The three of them sat watching the early afternoon television programmes for about an hour until Sion piped up.
“It’s Christmas eve tonight mummy.”
“Yes darling.” Briony replied even as she realised the problem.
“Will Santa know I’m here and not at home in Llanidloes?”
Briony paled. In her anger and haste to leave her unfaithful, violent husband, she had forgotten to pack the Christmas presents. Her expression immediately conveyed to Dave the dilemma she faced. He gave her a concerned look and she wagged her head in despair.
He mouthed his concerns silently over Sions’ head.
“Oh shit! What are we going to do?”
Tears forced their way into Brionys’ eyes. Sion would be devastated if Santa Clause didn’t come. Then she stopped thoughtfully.
‘Dave had said —what are WE going to do?’
Ellairy then demanded to be fed and for the next half hour, Briony was too occupied to think about Santa Clause. While she nursed her baby, Dave took Sion to feed the animals hoping this might distract him. Then he returned to tell Briony that he was going to clear away the snow down to the junction on the road. Clearing the snow was his contractual agreement with the county highways authority. It meant the mountain road got cleared quickly and the local farmers received a modest remuneration during a quiet time with little income.
“D’you think he might want to come with me on the tractor? I’m trying to think of ways to distract him.”
Briony shrugged. She could think of nothing to put at the end of his bed short of some fruit and nuts from Dave’s larder. Tearfully, she nodded assent and Sion dashed into the utility room to dress again for the snow. Five minutes later he was sat grinning in the cab of the tractor as they set out to clear the road while there was still daylight. After they had left, Briony searched hopelessly through the house hoping against hope to find maybe some old toys from Daves’ childhood but there was nothing. She even checked the attic ... nothing, zero, zilch! It was as if Dave had never had a childhood.
Feeling defeated, she returned to the kitchen to see to Ellairy then she wondered about making a meal. Before she started she wondered about asking Dave if she could borrow one of Daphnes’ dresses and then she decided if they were going to be stuck for a few days then she would have to. She could not be expected to wear the same clothes all through Christmas especially as she was feeding Ellairy. She had to wash her top every day because her milk invariably leaked. Her thoughts led her back to the bedroom and that wardrobe full of clothes. As she entered she could not resist picking through them until she found something that would suite and as she held it against her to check the fit she felt a creeping envy for Daphne who seemed to have a hold on Dave. The dress she held was a very stylish designer label and she wondered just how much the girl spent on clothes. It was a black size 12 single shoulder strap number with bling around the front piece and it was obviously used for smart cocktail parties. Then she found the matching bolero jacket and felt a further pang of envy bordering on jealousy.
She could not resist checking out the jewellery that Daphne had left at the house and inevitably she started sifting through the assorted bracelets, rings, ear-rings and necklaces. Her envy grew until she wondered about shoes.
‘Size nines.’ Thought Briony again. ‘Daphne was lumbered with very unfeminine feet.
Briony was secretly glad that Daphne wasn’t perfect. Then, as she opened another drawer, she even found some mail addressed to Daphne ... several opened letters lying in the middle drawer of the dressing table.
‘Good God!’ Thought Briony, ‘She must be living here at times, if the girl had mail delivered here, they must have a pretty close relationship. If so, why was Dave spending Christmas alone. Most men in a relationship this advanced would surely have spent Christmas with their girlfriend or invited their girlfriend to spend it with them’.
She noted the date on the postmark and realised the letter was only a couple of days old. ‘Perhaps he had been expecting her for Christmas but some last minute problem had spoiled the arrangements.’
Curiosity overwhelmed her and she could not resist opening the latest letter...
Dear Daphne,
I’m so pleased you have finally plucked up the courage to meet me and the other girls. I must confess, several of us were envious of your outfit but a new girl is always welcome into the community.
Our long chat was very rewarding for me and I’ll warrant you gained a lot from it as well. The girls were stunned when you mentioned your home. It seems that it would be an ideal location for a party and I will be contacting you again by email as soon as you advise me that you are willing to advance the ideas we discussed. In the joy and excitement of your first visit I forgot to mention that we like to sometimes communicate by ‘snail-mail’. It’s always best to get it down on paper at first, especially if we are arranging a weekend that requires a lot of organisation. I’m sorry if this may sound officious and legalistic but it can cost the girls a lot of money if events are planned and then cancelled without warning. Weekends such as ours take a lot of planning and organisation.
Your description of your home and your circumstances sounded just about ideal and I’m sure, after a couple of events, you’ll be turning girls away for want of bedroom space, though if, as you say, there’s lots of parking space, many of the girls can use camper-vans or even tents provided there are good changing facilities.
I would dearly love to come and visit you in the New Year to check your house over. I’m sure, after you heard some of the nightmare stories the girls have to tell about parties in their own homes being ruined by neighbours, you’ll understand our enthusiasm for a place as large and remote as your home. You'll also understand why we have to be so careful.
Please email me ASAP about a suitable weekend. The second Friday in January would be ideal for me. I am attending a Tee conference in Birmingham during the first week of January for I’m combining that and a New Year Party with friends in Birmingham. It would not be a big diversion to visit you in Mid-Wales before I return to Manchester.
Please contact me ASAP.
Rachel. XXX
P.S. Loved your profile on ‘chix’. After Charlotte showed you the site, it’s obvious you’ve been a very busy girl. Just how many outfits do you have girl!!?
XXX
Rachel.
Briony studied the letter and frowned with puzzlement. There were so many unanswered questions flying around in her head, she just couldn’t make head or tail. The one ‘shorthand’ that puzzled her was ‘Tee’.
‘What did that stand for?’ She wondered.
Briony had led a fairly sheltered life deep in Rural Wales and while she had heard of some stuff, the shorthand in the letter left her bemused. Even her years at university didn't help her much with the hyperbole of the achronyms. She looked up to see the returning tractors’ headlamps piercing the winter night as it turned off the road onto the farm lane. Hurriedly, she replaced the letter in the drawer and trotted down to the kitchen. When Dave arrived with a grinning Sion, she was busily starting the veg for the evening meal. She smiled at her son who was covered in a soft mantle of snow.
“It’s started again, the snow that is.” Dave explained.
“Well. At least we’re warm and snug. So, did you enjoy darling?”
Sion looked up with eyes beaming as he flicked some snow off his shoulder.
“I operated the bucket Mummy! I lowered it while Dave drove the tractor along the road. We cleared the road all the way to the next farm.”
“What have I said about calling him Dave? It’s Mr Cadwalloder to you!”
“Sorry Mummy.”
Dave shrugged and bent to look in the oven. His eyes widened appreciatively when he saw the Pork joint roasting.
“Mmm! That smells nice, roasties as well.”
“Can you help with the veg?” Briony asked as Dave removed his outer clothes and boots.
He nodded, helped Sion out of his ‘all-in-one’ winter ski-suite then picked some carrots and parsnips out of the vegetable rack.
As he sat peeling them at the table, Briony sat opposite him while Sion chatted incessantly about driving the tractor.
“And just as we were coming down the lane, the snow started again. Is it going to be a white Christmas?” He finished.
Briony smiled.
“I’m pretty much sure that it is. What do you think Mr Cadwalloder?”
Dave looked up from peeling the vedge'.
“Call me Dave. You’ve been doing it all day. Why change now?”
“I think Sion’s picking up on it. He should be showing you more respect.”
“Aaahhh. Don’t worry yourself about that. The kid’s okay. He’s courteous and he says please and thank you.”
“Well how do you think he should address you?” Briony persisted.
“Dave will do, honestly I don’t mind. When the snow clears you’ll be gone from here and we’ll probably never meet again.”
Brionys’ brow wrinkled with her frown. His remark left her a little saddened and she realised Dave was beginning to grow on her. It was obvious that Sion was besotted with him. Sion had also picked up on Dave’s last remark.
“Can’t we ever come back Mr Cadwalloder? I like Lassie and Jenny and Laddie, as well as Jessica and Pansy.”
Dave paused with a carrot in his hand and the peeler stopped half way along it. Briony noticed the flicker of uncertainty cross his eyes as he sucked his cheeks then glanced uncertainly at Briony.
“You’d have to give me warning and arrange dates. You couldn’t just turn up un-announced. I’m out a lot; you know markets and things.”
‘What was all that about?’ Briony wondered. ‘Could this be something to do with Daphne?’
They finished the veg’ and left them ready to boil then went into the drawing room where Dave had lit a huge log fire. The room was delightfully warm despite its size and Briony noticed that the warm air ducts were also working. She turned to Dave.
“This place must cost the earth to heat. You don’t have to do it on my account.”
“It gives us a chance to chat about what we’re going to do about Sion and Santa Clause. He’s happy watching the tele in the kitchen. Do you need to feed Ellairy now? I notice it’s five-ish.”
Briony nodded so he fetched the same large blanket she had used the previous evening. Soon Briony was ensconced on a comfortable sofa beside the roaring log fire with Ellairy contentedly suckling at her breast while the blanket gave her all the modesty and privacy she needed. While the baby fed, they tried to think of ideas to please Sion.
“What was he hoping for?” Dave asked.
“Oh some computer games and a bike. All the usual robotic toys and stuff. The stuff is still in the house in Llanidloes. Fat lot of good it’s doing there. He also mentioned a horse but that’s out of the question.”
Briony giggled softly. I sometimes wonder where kids get such crazy notions. I mean ... a horse. Where would we stable it to begin with? In my sisters’ garden shed!
Her laughter dislodged Ellairy from her breast and the next second milk spurted over her blouse.
“Oh damn. She disconnected from my boob. Now I’m soaking!”
Briony struggled to sort herself and Ellairy out under the blanket but Dave had already responded and stepped towards the door.
“I’ll wait out here until you’ve got yourself sorted. Will you need to wash your top?”
“I’m afraid so; and my bra. This is so embarrassing.”
“Hang on a minute.” He said as he disappeared out of the room.
Briony was able to remove the blanket and partially repair the mess but her blouse was soaking. A bundle of tissues might sort out the nursing bra but she would feel uncomfortable until she had an opportunity to wash. She cursed her situation as she removed both blouse and bra then settled down topless under the blanket to finish feeding her daughter. Eventually there was a soft knock and Dave announced his return.
I’ve borrowed one of Daphnes’ tops. She won’t mind.”
“Oh, thank god for that. You’re just so thoughtful. Will she really not mind?”
Dave hesitated before explaining.
“She won’t be allowed to mind. This is an emergency; you’re stranded without a change of clothes. I should have thought about it earlier. I’ve been very remiss.”
He draped the top over the back of the sofa and offered to leave again while she changed.
Briony smiled. ‘He was just so-oo sweet. What other man would have ever thought about it.’ She asked herself.
“I’ll finish feeding her first.” She replied. “We may as well chat about Santa’s visit. How can we persuade him to come?”
Dave settled into what was obviously his favourite armchair and stared pensively into the flames as he steepled his finger under his chin. Briony studied his features profiled in the firelight.
‘He’s got quite delicate features,’ she noted; ‘not the usual heavy brow and gorilla-like jaw.’
She discreetly studies his slender fingers and well-kept nails and found the whole image quite perplexing. ‘For a man who worked physically out of doors, he was unusually well ‘cared for’.'
He continued staring thoughtfully into the fire until Briony announced that Ellairy was fed. The baby stirred and whimpered softly as Briony sat up, adjusted the blanket and smiled pointedly at Dave.
“She’s finished. I need to get dressed now. I hope this top isn’t an important favourite of Daphnes’”
“Why?” Dave turned curiously.
“Well, my nursing bra got soaked as well. The milk could stain the top.”
“Ah! I see. I hadn’t thought of that. Do you want another bra?”
“Oh my gosh. Would I! That would be wonderful. “What size is Daphne?”
Dave hesitated for a moment then uncertainly replied.
“Uuuhhm, more to the point, and I hope you won’t be offended. What size are you?”
It was Brionys’ turn to be stumped.
“Ah. I’m not sure, this is a nursing bra and the cups are adjustable. I’m not sure. Normally I’m a thirty six B or C but right now I’m like a dairy cow with udders.”
“Could you pass it to me and I’ll go and find something similar. Daphne’s a bit bigger than a B.”
“I think it’s better if I come with you. Let’s just get Ellairy settled first.”
Dave hesitated uncertainly but eventually agreed. Briony thought he seemed unduly reluctant to let her see what Daphne had to offer. They settled Ellairy in the make-shift crá¨che on the kitchen settee and Briony followed Dave up to the corner bedroom. She was still topless under the blanket whilst she held the top Dave had brought in her hands. Once in the bedroom Dave sighed somewhat defeatedly and opened a draw filled with bras; all clean some new, some used but what intrigued Briony was the range of sizes. After sifting through several different cup sizes and designs she turned to Dave in puzzlement.
“What size is Daphne? There’re bras here from thirty six A to thirty eight double D.”
Dave mumbled.
I’m not sure, she varies. I suppose she changes size with you know ...her cycles. I dunno’”
“Oh really Dave. This is weird; yes we all vary slightly with our cycles but not from an A to double D.”
“Well I dunno’ I’ve never asked her.”
“What size dresses does she wear?”
“Twelves or fourteens. She has to try them on when she buys them.”
“And tops?” briony persisted.
“Fourteens, nearly always fourteens.”
Briony wagged her head and returned to the bra issue again.
“How old is Daphne?”
Dave hesitated as he quickly tried to decide an age for his fictitious alter ego.”
“Uuhhm about twenty-yeey nine or thirty-ish. Thirty! I think! Men never remember their girlfriend’s ages.”
“They do. Particularly men as thoughtful as you. What are you trying to hide?”
Dave shrugged and made to leave, then had second thought.
“Look. Can you just choose a bra and get sorted. There’s new bras there; still in their packaging and never been used. Daphne probably won’t even miss one.”
Briony concluded she had been nosey enough. Whatever relationship he had with Daphne, he wasn’t prepared to discuss it, ‘and he had a right to refuse,’ she admitted to herself. Though she was truly intrigued.
She rifled through the assortments and marvelled at the variety, not to mention the quantity. Eventually she found something that she fancied and looked like it would fit her nursing udders and she held it up.
“Thirty six D with full cups and fairly broad straps. This should do. Nice colour don’t you agree.”
Dave nodded and fidgeted uncertainly as Briony slipped into the en-suite to put it on. There she slipped off the blanket and blouse, determined it was a really comfortable fit then came out boldly displaying her well supported assets and asked.
“What d’you think?”
“Good god Briony! Put the top on!”
“I can’t. My milk has already stained it. I’ve put some tissues over my nipples in this bra but I think I’ll need another top. Can I get one?”
“Oh all right then. Pick what you want. I’ll tell her it was an emergency.”
As she stepped into the walk-in wardrobe, Briony smiled to herself. She had never faced such a fabulous selection of dresses, skirts and tops. She felt like a boy in a sweet factory. She chose several and returned into the bedroom where Dave was reverently returning the bras to the drawer. He closed the drawer ‘guiltily’ Briony thought as he turned to confront her.
“I thought you’d put one on in there.”
“I want your opinion.”
“Flippin’ heck Briony. I suppose you’ll be asking to borrow tights next, I ... aah! You’ll need a change of uuuhhm thingies, uuuhm, underwear as well I suppose.”
“Could I be a real bore and impose?”
“I suppose you’d better. I suppose I’d better leave you here to shower first then get sorted. Wear what you want. You’ll find me in the kitchen. Please don’t abuse Daphnes’ hospitality.”
Briony felt a pang of guilt. She had rather pushed her luck; but once again, Dave had come up trumps and acted the perfect gentleman. It was a pity Daphnes’ feet were so large because her shoe collection was stunning.
“I’ll be down stairs entertaining the children. Don’t be long; I’ve got to make one last check on the animals.”
So saying he closed the door and left her to her own devices. Briony sat on the satin sheets and surveyed the room.
Daphne certainly had taste and certainly indulged her shopping genes. The room was tastefully decorated and she now had carte-blanche at the wardrobe. Dave had told her so. She stripped, and luxuriated in the shower before treating herself to some beautiful accessories. Then she raided the wardrobe big time and finally indulged herself at the spacious make-up table. When she had finished she stood in the mirror and frowned at her shoes that were the only flaw. They had suffered from tramping about in snow and mud at the accident. She shrugged. ‘There was nothing she could do about that.’
Otherwise a very attractive twenty-seven-year old girl looked back at her.
‘This’ll knock him dead!’ She concluded. ‘Briony, you’ve still got it girl, even after two kids.’
Then she wondered why she was competing with Daphne. She wished there was a picture of her but strangely there was none. Intrigued by this omission she started searching through the various lockers and cupboards and made a discovery that further intrigued her. On the top shelf in the Wardrobe she found over a dozen wigs all neatly sitting on proper wig frames.
Briony wondered if Daphne had any real hair then, finally it dawned on her.
‘Size nine shoes! Hundreds of outfits! All sorts of wigs! More makeup than a theatrical suppliers! Hold on! She told herself. ‘This bedroom was more like a theatrical dressing room than a bedroom.’ These clothes belonged to a narcissist; these clothes belonged to a transvestite!!
‘
Oh my God! She gasped. He’s a tranny. Just like the ones she had met in Cardiff, in Uni! In the clubs where she had finally learned to let her own hair down away from her censorious bible thumping parents.
She flumped down onto the bed and ran her fingers over the satin sheets as she collected her thought.
‘Why David Cadwalloder. You cheeky fraud! There is no Daphne!’ Well there was, but not the Daphne Briony had envisaged.’
Then she remembered. Dave was downstairs. Alone with her children.
‘Oh my God! He might be a ... a pervert!’
Without any shoes, because she had decided to rest her own, she slipped silently down stairs and listened at the kitchen door.
She heard Dave telling Sion a funny story about something on the farm and Sion laughing uproariously. Briony had studied sociology and psychology at uni and she knew enough to know that a child laughing like her own son was laughing, was not fearful of the other person. She listened a little longer and started to smile at the story Dave was telling. When the punch-line arrived she let out an involuntary snort and alerted the dogs. Laddie barked softly and Dave ordered him to be quiet.
“It’ll be Briony you silly mutt. Be quiet!”
Briony quickly opened the door and appeared as if she had just arrived in the passage.
Dave stood up from the Windsor chair by the Aga and his eyes widened with appreciation.
“Well! ‘Pon my soul, and aren’t you the pretty one! They look better on you than they do on Daphne. Sion had been lounging on the settee beside his younger sister on the other side of the kitchen and well away from any physical contact with Dave. When he saw his mother his eyes also widened with happiness. There was certainly no guilt, or fear or relief in his eyes. His face was just one big happy smile.
Sion had never seen his mother look so pretty and he simply stared at her. Briony smiled and reassured him.
“Yes! It’s me; your mummy.”
He sat up and stepped forward to hug her as he also remarked.
“You look nice mummy and you’re smiling. You've been smiling all day. It's nice here.”
Briony nearly burst into tears. ‘Had she been that depressed?’ she wondered.
The Ram 4
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Here is the next chapter of the Ram.
Briony discovers Daves' transgenderism.
The Ram 4.
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month-old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave. Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Briony found herself clinging tight to Sion; so much so that he ended up making a muffled protest.
“Mmmmmff! You’re squeezing me mummy!”
She released him suddenly and became self-conscious as she realised Dave sensed something was wrong. As Sion recovered his breath, Briony found Dave studying her concernedly.
“You alright love?”
Briony was not alright but she felt too embarrassed to admit anything to this strange but kind man ... this transvestite. She slumped onto the settee beside Ellairy and picked her up in her arms to cuddle her as she just managed to avert her tears. She looked up just once to find Dave studying her.
“You’re not alright are you?”
She struggled for a few more moments then the tears burst forward as the dam burst. She wagged her head, replaced Ellairy on the settee and lurched across to the sideboard where Dave kept the kitchen roll. After ripping off a generous bundle of sections, she leant against the side board and pressed the tissues hard against her eyes to try and stem the flow. She sensed Dave staring at her and turned to face him.
“No. I’m not. My whole life has turned to shit in just two days.”
Dave stood up, hesitated then stepped carefully forward as though approaching a frightened animal. He held out his arms; not all the way, but with the elbows bent so that the gesture did not appear too dramatic. He wasn’t sure what sort of response was needed, or more importantly how much response. He realised she was a woman alone in a strange house with a stranger and with two children to worry about so she had every right to be fearful, and tearful. He cocked his head slightly forward and sideways in as sympathetic and non-aggressive a manner as he could, to try and demonstrate sympathy without seeming predatory. She caught his uncertainty and smiled despite the tears still falling.
‘He was seemingly just as nervous as she was!’ She reflected.
Feeling reassured, she stepped forward and slowly pushed herself between his out-reached arms. Her face ended up just below his shoulder and she pressed in fractionally tighter as she felt his arms close around her and rest gently between her shoulder blades. There was no power there; no tight, affectionate embrace for it was obvious Dave was still uncertain of how much affection Briony needed. Then her emotions took hold and she wrapped her arms around his lower ribs and squeezed tight.
It was obvious that he was still uncertain of what to do next but Briony just didn’t care. She sobbed for several minutes before finally recovering her composure. Finally she stopped sobbing and gave him a tight hug that squeezed them tight together. Dave let out a little gasp of discomfort and winced as Briony suddenly realised it was a ‘less than manly’ chest her face was pressed tight against.
‘My God! He’s got breasts!’ She realised. ‘Not big ones but certainly noticeable’ as she felt her cheeks pressed against them.
As she carefully confirmed her discovery by brushing her cheeks against the familiar texture of the mounds, Dave simultaneously realised he had been ‘discovered'. He slowly released his embrace and tried to extricate himself from her embrace but Briony inadvertently betrayed her discovery by continuing to hug him tight as she re-affirmed her discovery. Then she realised that he knew that she knew and she looked up as he glanced fearfully down. Their eyes met and she recognised his fear.
‘My God, he’s more afraid than I should be!’ She told herself and this realisation emboldened her.
“Are those real?” She whispered so that Sion would not hear.
“Let me go ... please.” He replied.
She slackened her embrace but continued to hold him in front of her as she pressed the question.
“Are they? She asked again as she pressed her face against them again. Are they really boobs?”
He pushed her away again and finally he applied enough force to compel her to release her hold. She let her hands unlock behind his back and slowly he backed away until his butt fetched up against the rail of the Aga. His head was turned away and his face was crimson with a cocktail of emotions as he avoided her eyes.
She stood silently; now it was Daves’ turn to recover some composure. Eventually he faced her and spoke haltingly as he followed her puzzled gaze.
“There ... there’s no need to stare. You can speak to me, not my ... my ... you know.”
“Your boobs,” she mouthed silently for Sions’ sake.
He nodded and turned to face the Aga. Partly to hide his boobs and partly because he was on the point of breaking into tears himself. Briony sensed his dejection and decided to change the subject ... to give the man a chance to compose his feelings.
“D’you want a cup of tea ... or perhaps something stronger?” She asked.
“Nothing alcoholic thank you. A cup of tea would be lovely.”
She busied herself with the preparations while Dave sighed then settled in one of the Windsor chairs as he hunched his back to hide all evidence of his feminine attributes. As she turned back to face him she realised why he always wore loose chequered work shirts. Unless he tucked the shirts tightly into his jeans, the boobs were more-or-less invisible. She settled in the other chair and finally caught his eye as he turned from gazing into the Aga’s inspection glass.
“D’you want to talk about it?” She asked.
He shrugged almost as though he didn’t care.
“What’s there to tell?”
“Okay. Let’s have dinner, put the children to bed and then perhaps we can talk about it.”
“Why d’you want to talk about it? How does it affect you? As soon as the road is clear, you can be out of here.”
Briony shrugged then added.
“But until then, we’re thrown together. Come on, let’s get the supper on. That roast is beginning to smell good.”
He stood up, hesitated, then took the lifeline she offered. Preparing the meal was a way of deflecting attention from his condition. He started arranging the root vegetables on the Aga and within minutes they were boiling away as he followed ten minutes later with the greens. Briony could see he was well used to cooking his meals and she found herself with little to do except lay the table and entertain her children. Then Sion broached the Santa Clause issue.
“Will he come tonight Mummy? Can he get through the snow?”
With this Dave let out a snort of amusement. He had remembered something that might just throw Briony a lifeline concerning Santa’s visit. He turned with a big grin.
“Of course he can get here silly! He rides a flying sleigh doesn’t he?”
Briony gasped and turned to glare at Dave but he raised a warning finger and then brought it to his lips as he smiled.
“I’ve got to check the animals. There’s something I’ll explain when I get back. Just watch the supper. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Briony frowned with puzzlement but Dave had already started putting his coat on.
“You checked them less than an hour ago.”
He put his finger to his lips again then asked if Sion could accompany him.
“Can he come with me to feed the animals? I want to see that Angel is okay?”
Sion erupted eagerly from the settee.
“Can I Mummy!?”
Briony could hardly refuse. Sion would wonder why and Dave would certainly take it as some sort of censure about his boobs. She hesitated a little too long and Dave picked up on the vibes.
“Okay; I understand.”
“No. No! Of course he can go. Just look after him.”
“When did I not?”
His question brought her to her senses. ‘Yes, he had looked after her son and Sion had returned after every ‘adventure’ brimming with excitement.’
“Sorry. You’re right. I’m prejudging you. I realised what you were after seeing the (She mouthed ‘wigs’) in the wardrobe. Is Daphne who I think she is?”
Dave nodded as Sion finished dressing for the outside and he gave the boy the powerful torch that hung behind the utility room door. Sion stepped eagerly into the yard and she watched the pair tramping through the new dusting of snow. She heard Dave instructing Sion as they picked their way accrross the yard.
“We'll do the pigs first; then the ram. Have you chosen a name for him yet?”
Sion nodded and his face brightened.
“D’you like Peter. I think it’s good name!”
“Peter sounds fine to me." Dave replied. "We’ll give it to him as we feed him.”
As the sensor light above the barn door flicked on, she saw her son nodding eagerly then they disappeared into the barn. She hated herself for still being worried but occupied herself with getting the Christmas Eve meal ready. All the time she was wondering how to tell Sion that Santa Clause was not coming. When Dave and Sion returned she had just finished giving Ellairy her evening feed and serving out the food.
“Mmmm! That smells really good.” Dave remarked.
“You did as much as me, but yes, it looks good.”
Sion surveyed the table and added.
“It’s done all posh!”
“It’s a special dinner lad,” Dave remarked. “Your mum’s done a lovely job.
‘With what there was,’ she told herself, for Dave had made few preparations for Christmas beyond the clothes he had bought for Daphne. The well stocked larder would have readily provided the basics for a feast at any time of year.
“We’d best get stuck in before it gets cold.” Briony suggested, and she watched the boys settle eagerly to the table.
‘Why did I think of them as ‘the boys’, she wondered.
For the next half hour there was silence as man and boy savoured the meal with a gusto born only of a day spent mainly out of doors. When the plates were swept clean after ‘second helpings’, Dave thanked her.
“That was truly brilliant. I was planning nothing like that love. Thank you.”
Briony felt a warm glow of satisfaction. ‘It was nice to be appreciated’.
As they loaded the dishwasher Briony broached the subject of Santa Clause.
“I was upset when you said Santa was magic. How am I going to explain the lack of presents tomorrow morning?”
Dave had to think quickly. What he had thought earlier now didn't apply. Briony knew about his dirty secret. he struggled to find a suitable reply and gave up. He was 'guilty as charged'.
“Sorry about that, I just didn’t think. Perhaps you can explain that Santa didn’t get told in time because Sions’ letter was addressed from Llanidloes. Consequently, the presents are waiting for him at Llanidloes.”
“Don’t you understand? I’m never going back to him. He’s a violent bastard. God knows what he might do. I’ve been hit so many times I can’t take any more beatings. I tried to stick by him! God knows I tried! But this was the last straw. I was tipped off by an acquaintance at my old place of work in Llanidloes. She knew about the violence and she had been trying to get me to leave before something serious happened to me or the children. In the end, she told me where he’d be and what they would be doing. I caught him in de-flagrante. Then I just drove home and stuffed the kids and some of their clothes in the car. I didn’t think about myself. I left the presents in the attic and under the tree. I daren’t go back.”
Dave fell silent. He simply could not comprehend why a man should hit a woman but he was on totally uncertain ground. After his mother and sister had died in childbirth, he’d never had any dealings with any women except his elderly grandmother but she had died a couple of years later. Since he was seven years old, Dave had never known a womans’ care or love. He simply did not know what to say. Finally he plunged for giving advice.
“Then you mustn’t go back. You’ll have to send somebody to collect your stuff.”
“Who?” Briony sniffed exasperatedly.
“I don’t know,” Dave replied. “Maybe your sisters’ husband.”
“She’s divorced and she doesn’t ever want to see another man, let alone live with one. Our family can sure pick losers and dick-heads.”
“Then I dunno’, but the question still remains. What do we tell the boy?”
Briony was just about to scold Dave and tell him to be quiet in front of her son but as she looked to see if Sion had heard anything and she realised he was fast asleep.
“Oh my God. He out like a light!”
Dave looked and sighed with relief.
“That’s maybe a good thing. Fresh air and hard work do that to a boy. I’ll bet he’ll sleep until morning. Shall I carry him up for you while you bring Ellairy?”
Briony hesitated for a moment then nodded as she explained.
“I was just thinking. If he sleeps like this all night, at least it’ll give us time to think of some excuse in the morning. I think the change of address thing might work.”
“It’s the only thing that could. If he still believes’ in Santa, he still believes he’s magic. The letter to Santa thing is a part of that magic and could explain the failure.”
Briony wagged her head with amusement.
“My God! D’you approach every problem with such logic? Magic destroys magic! Now there’s a conundrum but it might work.”
Dave shrugged, lifted the sleeping boy and they carried them upstairs to bed. As they reached the top of the landing he remarked.
“We forgot to prepare separate beds for them.”
“They can sleep with me, like last night.”
Dave sensed her reasons but he said nothing despite feeling hurt.
She didn’t trust him. It was the perennial argument, suspicion, distrust; call it what you will. She suspected that he was something more than just a trans’- whatever; something much more sinister and evil.
Feeling hurt and angry, he placed Sion upon her bed and made his excuse before returning to the kitchen. Briony also sensed his mood and realised she had wounded him by a single, simply lapse. A single thoughtless remark. She wanted to rush downstairs and apologise but she had to put the children to bed. The conundrum exercised her patience.
‘It was worse than walking on eggshells,’ she cursed her thoughtlessness then realised she had a right to be protective of her children. She had no idea what other possible perversions he might indulge in.
Strengthened by her newfound resolution. She tenderly undressed her children and laid them, still sleeping, in the bed. Finally, she felt ready to go and tackle the issues waiting for her in the kitchen.
The Ram 5
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Here's part 5 of The Ram.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 5.
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month-old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave. Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Briony padded softly down stairs and carefully opened the passage door into the kitchen. The kitchen and utility rooms were empty and she noted that Daves’ coat and boots were missing. Then she noticed the sensor lights around the barn were on. Dave had obviously gone into the barn. She debated putting on the other wellies he had lent her and going across to check. The man seemed to be back and forth into the barn every couple of hours.
‘Surely animals didn’t need that much care!’ She told herself. ‘What could be occupying his time? Or was he avoiding her?’ She wondered.
She knew she had wounded him simply by inference when they were putting the children to bed and a pang of guilt still nagged at her conscience. After all, she was the interloper on whatever life he had.
For want of anything better to do, she finished clearing up after the supper then started preparing vegetables for tomorrows’ dinner ... Christmas dinner. There was still plenty of meat left on the joint but she would have preferred something traditional, like a turkey. She wondered if Dave had prepared for Christmas dinner already but she hadn’t seen a bird anywhere. Having decided that the joint would have to do, she concentrated on the vegetables.
It was over an hour before she heard the back door from the yard click and Dave’s boots stomping off the snow before he appeared in the kitchen.
“Where’ve you been?” She asked somewhat hesitantly.
“In the barn, checking the animals, seeing that Angel is comfortable and plucking a goose.”
“Plucking a Goose!” She gasped. “What you mean ...”
“I thought you’d want some sort of bird for the dinner tomorrow. So I killed one of the gees just now and I’ve been plucking it and dressing it in the barn. I couldn’t let Sion see me do it. I don’t think he’s ready for the brutal side of Christmas dinner yet. I didn’t want to shock him, so I was going to wait until he went to bed. Fortunately he went to sleep early ... all that fresh air.”
“What! You just went out and killed one of your own geese!?”
The ghost of a smile that had crept onto Dave’s face faded as he sensed Briony was shocked. He stammered an apology; it seemed nothing he could do was right.”
“I — I’m sorry. It’s either that or slices off the joint we had tonight. Cold cuts aren’t very appealing for a Christmas dinner. I was happy for myself but for the boy, well, if Santa isn’t going to call then I thought perhaps a nice traditional dinner might at least make something of Christmas day. Sorry, I’ll take it back.”
“Take what back?”
“The goose, it’s here in the utility room.”
“Oh my God!” She put the veg peeler down and stood cautiously to look.
“Is it, you know, oven ready?”
“Of course. Some say you have to hang a bird for a day or two but it’s not true. If the thing is dressed properly I think it tastes better fresh from the flock.”
Briony poked her head around the door and was somewhat relieved to see a perfectly dressed bird on a big steel tray. She stepped forward nervously and poked it then sniffed it.
“It looks okay.” She observed, unsure of what other comment to make. She had never cooked a whole bird before, she and her husband had usually gone around to his or her parents.
“I’ll put it in early in the morning. It’ll be safe overnight in the larder where the dogs or the cats can’t get at it.”
So saying he placed it on the cool stone slab, closed the door and turned to face her.
“We’d best finish the veg.”
Briony sensed he was trying to divert attention away from the issue that was the elephant in the room, his cross-dressing. She felt it had to be tackled and she wanted explanations. She had met several transvestites at college but usually at night clubs where they were dressed and usually having a good time. Like her friends, she had met them in the ladies’ loos and chatted with them, but always they had made their own way home to their private lives. Apart from the clubbing scene, Briony had otherwise never encountered a known transvestite or more importantly, a transsexual!
‘I mean, what’s with his boobs?’ She wondered.
Dave seemed to sense her issues so he took a seat at the table corner so that they were close enough to chat without talking loudly. He picked up an ordinary kitchen knife and they were soon preparing vegetables. Briony realised he had chosen this arrangement to give her the least stressful opportunity to broach her concerns. She took a deep breath then finally took the plunge.
“Is it okay to talk about it?” She asked, ‘dipping her toe into the metaphorical water.’
“I think we’re going to have to. You didn’t seem very happy about things when the children went to bed.”
Briony was relieved that he’d broached the issue of the children. She felt if she brought it up, it might reinforce his reservations and fear of accusation. Now the issue was open she felt relieved and emboldened though she still wasn’t sure how to bring it up. Her hesitation told Dave she was still afraid of somehow causing offence or worse, precipitating him into some sort of anger or attack. With a long sigh, he broke the impasse.
“I’m not a paedophile or anything like that. Is that what you’re worried about?”
Even yet, Briony hesitated. She was still fearful of causing offence. Then eventually, she croaked in a tiny, nervous squeak.
“Yes. I’m sorry. Yes, I was.”
“There.” Dave replied. “That wasn’t too difficult was it? I’m not offended, believe me, I’ve been accused of worse. But now the issue is out, on the table, in the open. We’ll both find it easier to address the issues.”
A flicker of a relieved smile crossed Brionys’ face as she finished the last parsnip. Dave stood and carried the saucepans to the sink to rinse the finished veg before covering ready for boiling and roasting in the morning.
Then he disappeared briefly into the larder and returned with all sorts of flour, sugar, fruit and assorted spices.
“We’re not finished yet.” He declared. “There’s the pudding to do. I got the ingredients in town a couple of days ago before I went to market.”
Briony felt further relief. Working while they talked served to somehow keep the situation under control and in perspective. She watched as he expertly mixed the pudding and left it to settle as he commenced making pastry for the mince pies. As he worked, she watched and they chatted at length.
“Who taught you to cook?”
“My gran. She lived with Dad and I for a few years after mum died then she died of cancer. She knew she was dying so she tried to pass on all she knew. She cooked three; no it was four, Christmas dinners here at the hall and every time she took me deep into her confidences. She died just before my eleventh birthday so I learnt a lot and what I couldn’t remember, she wrote in a book. I’ve still got it in the sideboard drawer.”
Daves’ voice choked slightly and Briony suddenly reached for some tissues as she spotted the tear. Silently, she offered it to him and he turned thankfully to face the Aga again as he squeezed the tissue against his eyes. She so wanted to hug him tight but felt it might somehow imply she was mocking his emotional, feminine responses to his own painful issues. Instead she gently rested her hand on his shoulder as a man might do in comradeliness. She inadvertently felt the shoulder strap of his compression vest under his loose chequered shirt and realised he either bound his breasts or replied upon the vest. She was aware enough not to probe or test with her fingers but simply let her hand lie in friendship on his shoulder. Eventually he recovered his composure and returned without a word to the pastry-making.
Once again, he opened up the conversation as he recognised she was still unsure of where to go with the issues. Firstly he reiterated the earlier assurance.
“You’re children are safe, I’m just trying to give them a decent Christmas day, even if Santa doesn’t arrive.”
Briony sighed as she anticipated Sions’ tears in the morning.
“I’m afraid Santa is definitely not coming in the morning.”
Dave said nothing and just nodded acceptance. At that stage there was little he could do to avert the inevitable tears.
‘Tomorrow might well be the day Sion stopped believing in Santa Clause,’ He thought, ‘but it was bloody brutal way to learn. He could remember the time and circumstance when he finally learned the truth about Santa, but it had not been accompanied by tears.’
He remembered vaguely that his father had had a difficult time with some livestock and the bad weather. The ensuing chaos that particular year had prevented his dad from getting to the shops before Christmas. It was the year before his grandmother had decided to come and help with the rearing of him after she learned of the Christmas morning disaster when no presents appeared at the bottom of Dave’s bed.
It was difficult for a man to run a farm, run a large house and bring up a small child without some sort of help with the mothering and she had finally persuaded him to accept her help. The following years were the best Dave could remember after his mother had died. Then his gran had died and finally, when he was nineteen, his dad had died of a stroke. Dave thought back and remembered that he had loved all his relatives ... mam, dad and gran.
Since then until now, Dave had lived alone as he came to terms with running the farm, (more like an estate,) maintaining the hall and dealing with his transgenderism. Briony had been the first person ever to stay overnight since his father had gone. ‘Over ten years’, he mused. It was odd to have other people and to have to think twice about his transgenderism.
Finally, the pastries were finished and he put a tray of mince pies in the oven. Then he settled in one of the Windsor chairs as Briony made them another cup of tea. She settled into the opposite chair and savoured the delicious heat radiating from the Aga. Finally, she plucked up the courage to broach the subject on her own terms.
“D’you mind if I ask about you err-rrm transvestism?”
Dave shrugged. ‘It was out in the open now so there was nothing left to hide. Besides, he had already gone to meetings he had discovered on the internet and met others like him, - well who cross-dressed like him.’ Furthermore, he was now into clubbing at gay clubs! 'What more damage can ensue?’ He wondered.
“I don’t suppose I do. I’ll be coming out shortly, anyway. Who can it harm anyway? What with me living away up here as I do.”
“How long have you been doing it?”
“Since before mummy died, ‘bout four I suppose.’
“Did your parents know?”
“No. They never found out either; or at least, if they did, they never mentioned it to me or pulled me about it. Look around you it’s a big house. I had a million places to hide my activities and another million to hide my stash.”
“Your stash?”
“Yeah; my clothes, mostly stolen from my mum at first; then when she died, I stole a huge amount of her stuff before some relatives came and cleared it away. Dad was too distraught to notice anything missing from mummy’s’ wardrobe so I had a windfall before the aunts got stuck in. That’s mums’ sisters. Dad was a single child. What I did notice was that a lot of mums’ jewellery disappeared after the aunts had been. I was angry about that and I told dad. He told Gran and she forced her daughters to give it back. They were all shocked that I knew nearly every piece of Mums’ jewellery but they never cottoned on why. I’ve still got most of it, though I don’t wear it. It’s too valuable. Since I was about twenty-five I’ve bought plenty of cheap garish stuff to assuage my needs.”
“You don’t seem to be ashamed or secretive about it.”
“Why should I care? Who is there to object?” I used to do it all at home here in total privacy, playing lady of the manor. Then, when I was about twenty nine, I went online and well, you know the internet. I’m thirty now and beginning to spread my wings.”
“D’you care if others found out?”
“You found out. The more we talk about it, the more I realise I don’t care. Are you bothered by it?”
“The boobs seem a bit strange. What’s that all about?”
“I have realised there’s a bit of transgenderism in me. I want boobs. I’d like to pass as a woman. I started buying hormones on the internet and I started self medicating.”
“What happens if you ever met a woman and found out you wanted to start a relationship?”
Dave shrugged and spread his hands palms upwards.
“That’s not going to happen is it? I don’t go where I’m likely to find straight women. I go to gay clubs. They’re the safest places, and yes, I have been attacked and beaten up but not in gay clubs.”
“What?” Briony pressed, “You mean while out — you know — cross dressed?” You go to straight clubs cross-dressed?”
“At first, I went to ordinary clubs, but once I got going on the internet I soon narrowed it down to places deemed safe for the likes of us. Believe my Briony; we trans-girls are at far greater risk than genetic girls. Now I go to Birmingham and Manchester. It’s much safer in the gay villages. No knuckle-rash, or at least, a lot less knuckle rash and the police are much more sympathetic. I go about three weekends a month in the summer. Less in the winter because the livestock need more care.
Talking of livestock. I’d best check on Angel again.”
“What! Why? You checked on her only just a couple of hours ago.”
“Yeah well she was a bit delicate when I last checked. I won’t be long.”
Before she could react, he was out of the chair and dressing to go out. His absence gave Briony time to reflect.
‘Wonder what he looks like as a woman?’ She asked herself. ‘He’s quite slender and willowy and he’s only a size twelve or fourteen. There was some really nice stuff up there as well.’ She recalled. As she stood to make another cup of tea, she pondered the situation and wondered if he’d let her see him dressed. She heard him returning and quickly poured another mug of tea. He wrapped his fingers around the mug and grinned.
“You must be clairvoyant or something. That was perfectly timed.”
“Haven’t you got something stronger than tea?” Briony asked.
He looked a bit puzzled and squinted suspiciously.
“Why d’you ask.”
“Dunno. It’s Christmas Eve and a drop of sherry would go down a treat with those mince pies. They smell delicious.”
Dave stood to check the Aga as he confessed.
“Sorry. I don’t have any booze. Not a drop, anywhere in the house. I don’t drink.”
“What. Not at all.”
“No. Nothing. It isn’t safe for Trannies to drink. People think they can take advantage of a woman drinking alone. Same goes for trannies; besides, if you get drunk, you’re doubly vulnerable. Ipso facto, I don’t drink. I can’t most of the time anyway, I invariably drive everywhere alone. Mmm. These pies are just perfect. Here, try one; let it cool first.”
Briony took the proffered pie and studied it as it cooled. The smell was delicious.
“What d’you put in it?”
“I make my own fruit mix. Mostly, apples and pears from the orchard and then the usual glazed raising and sultanas and stuff. Yes, it’s one of Grans’ old recipes.”
As Briony carefully nibbled the pie she kept looking at Dave until he frowned.
“What?”
“What, what?” She replied.
“Why d’you keep looking at me. I’m not the mad axe-man of Plyn Limon or something. You’re perfectly safe.”
She smiled as she tried to relax him.
“Will you do me a favour?”
“I’m not playing Santa clause to Sion; besides I’ve no outfit and no presents.”
“No. Not that. Something else.”
“What.”
“What d’you look like as a girl?”
Dave studied her as he tried to assess her objectives.
“Why would you want to know?”
“I’m just curious.”
Dave felt a twitch of salacity tingle down his spine but immediately suppressed it. This encounter was going nowhere in his book. It didn’t pay to mix it with straight girls. Even in the short two or three years where he had be going ‘out’ he had discovered that one.
Anyway, he was a totally free agent, foot loose and fancy free. Something like this might complicate things.’ He searched through his mind for some sort of excuse then offered one.
“What if Sion wakes up and sees me?”
“If he wakes up, he’ll come looking for me, not you. He’ll be more concerned to see if Santa’s come.”
Dave bit his lip thoughtfully. He still had reservations.
“I don’t get it. Why? I mean; straight girls may like to have a laugh with us in the clubs, but it usually ends there. At the end of the night, when it comes down to it, they like straight men, men without kinks or flaws.”
Briony sniffed dismissively.
“I’ve got news for you David Cadwalloder, there’s no such thing as a man without any kinks. They all seem to be into one thing or another.”
It was Dave’s turn to snort derisively.
“Come off it girl. We’re talking transgenderism here. Half man, half woman. Be serious, I’m talking real issues. I don’t play at dressing; it’s me, all of me. When I’m dressed, I’m a woman in my head. I start to feel female and then the call comes and I go to my wardrobe. It’s like vampires crawl back into their coffins when the sun rises. It’s as basic and primordial as that. I’m half woman in my head; come to think of it, I might even be more than half woman. I don’t know, I haven’t had any associations with women since my gran died, I was eleven. I don’t even know what is womanly and what is not. I don’t have any datum marks, no scale of womanliness. All I know is that in here, in-between my ears there’s a woman or half a woman or some fraction of a woman, though how big or how small? I don’t know. The only thing I’ve got going for me on this road I’m travelling is that I feel no guilt. There’s never been anybody to condemn me, nobody censuring me. I’m free at least of that stuff. Problem is, I don’t know how much of me is woman, what feelings are womanly feelings and what feelings are manly.”
Briony was mildly perplexed. In all her sociological studies, the parameters had always seemed to start out with one, undisputed, absolute premise, that is; the individual was male or female. She stared thoughtfully into the Aga’s inspection glass.
‘This was totally new premise and a very uncertain one. To have the individual somewhere in-between and worse, to not even know where ‘in-between’, set all the sexuality based, psychological hypotheses onto very unstable ground. No certainty and no calibration meant no starting off point and therefore no conclusions.’ Briony was lost for what to say except for one issue that perplexed her.
“You say it doesn’t bother you.”
Dave shrugged again and pulled a wry expression.
“No. I knew other people disapproved because of how stuff went down at school but when I got home I was free. I heard the boys making remarks about queers and laughing at a football song about players wearing womens’ underwear. So naturally I didn’t reveal anything at school. Some of the boys called me a girly wimp for not liking rugby and football but I could ride a horse and they couldn’t. I heard them planning a ramble with the scouts one Friday for a weekend, summer hike to Plyn Limon Fawr. That’s a fair treck but I knew they would be crossing the moors where we had grazing rights.
I just asked dad if he wanted me to round up the high pasture flock for shearing and he was quite happy. It was something he had been planning for Monday but he was really pleased when I offered to do it on the Saturday. I was just turned thirteen but farm kids learn responsibilities early.
Come the day, I was out on the moors seemingly innocently busy with the flock. I cut quite a dash for I looked very responsible and ‘grown-up’ when they saw me astride a full sized horse while handling three dogs on the whistle. I had half the flock
gathered when my schoolmates seemingly just happened to come across me sending out two of the dogs to gather in another bunch.
The scoutmaster was one of our Geography teachers and he was quite amazed to learn that I was responsible for about two thousand of our sheep of our own and another two thousand of Cledwyns flock from the next farm. It was a huge flock and I was slowly working them down to the lower pastures. When I caught site of the hikers I deliberately sent the sheep a bit too far thus making it appear that I had to gallop across the moor to head them off. This brought me and two of the dogs right past my schoolmates at full gallop as I called in the dogs to re-direct the sheep. Then I pulled up and posed on top of my horse like a general directing his armies. Finally I called in the dogs and introduced myself to the hikers they were shocked to learn that David Cadwalloder worked on the moors on horseback all alone without adult supervision. I never mentioned my riding for I just wanted to keep my head down at school and avoid attracting attention.
That’s how I got through school and as soon as I was able, I left to help dad with the farm. Three years later, I was the owner and sole operator of the whole estate. Free as a bird and with nobody to answer to.
Thus I’ve been free to indulge my needs all my life, though I always knew; or rather thought; that other people would judge me if they knew. Luckily, I’ve got this, a huge empty house tucked away in the mountains. Lucky me.”
“So how did you find out about the problems others like you face?”
“That’s a facile question. When I bought my computers and went on line, I started meeting others like me. We talk; all hail the internet.”
Briony felt she was going around in circles. From Daves’ perspective, his needs were easily addressed.
“Did you ever go to college?”
“No. There was the farm, I had to help dad and I knew I was going to inherit one day. That day came earlier than expected. He was getting Ill when I turned seventeen.”
But didn’t you feel you’d missed something? I mean taking on such huge responsibilities so young.”
“I grew up with it; by the time push came to shove I was already capable of running the show. Dad said he was sorry for dumping so much stuff on my shoulders so early but I knew little else. Once Dad died, I didn’t have a chance to feel anything, except freedom to address my needs.”
“You seem remarkably sanguine about it.”
“Mr Price the accountant tells me the estate is turning over a handsome profit. I get invited to all the farmer functions though I don’t often go. Too many hopeful farmers daughters looking to trap me. They’re all country girls and I don’t know how they’d take to my trans stuff. How would I tell them and be sure they’d keep it a secret?”
“I thought you said you were coming out?”
“We-ell, yes, but in my own time and in my own places. No need to shit on my own doorstep.”
“Succinctly put,’ thought Briony as she added.
“So nobody else knows but me.”
“Well some of my new-found friends know.”
“Aren’t you afraid I might tell people?”
“Can’t do much about it can I? You felt my boobs and found my clothes. That’s how much can go wrong after one unexpected, unscheduled visit.”
“Would you be upset if I did?”
“Yes. It’s a betrayal of trust after I saved your life. Somehow though, I don’t think you would. You don’t strike me as a vindictive judgemental woman.”
Briony basked in the compliment and it further endeared him to her. 'The man was honest and straight; and so far he hadn’t put a foot wrong.' She decided to try and press her suit.
“Would you object to my seeing you dressed?”
“But why? What’s the point? It’s just something I do.”
“I’m just curious. Your slender and sort of willowy, I’m just curious.”
“You mean tall and skinny.”
“No!” Briony protested. “No you’re not skinny. I’d love to see you changing; that is getting dressed with the makeup and everything.”
“You won’t see me dressing. That’s a bit too salacious. I mean, you’d be with a naked tranny in her bedroom. Well not totally naked. I’ve always got nicks on.”
“What! Even now?”
He nodded and shrugged.
“I don’t have any boy pants even when I’m up to my eyes in sheep and shit.”
“Okay then, put your clothes on then let me see you making up your face.”
Dave felt a little fricassee of excitement tingle through his body. He had never put his makeup on in-front of anybody else before. He paused and Briony pleaded.
“Pleease.”
“Okay then, but no coming in until I say I’m ready; okay?”
Briony beamed and stepped over to kiss him by way of saying thank-you. She caught him a smacker on the forehead before he realised what she was about. Dave stare up at her open-mouthed, shook his head and executed a smart exit to the corner bedroom.
“I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
Briony was left to consider the vegetables so she made yet another cup of tea. She was beginning to feel like a teapot.
The Ram 6
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Here it is.
Part 6 of The Ram
The Ram 6
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month-old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave. Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
After sipping her tea, Briony found herself at a bit of a loose end. Normally Christmas Eve would have been one hectic round of wrapping presents and visiting neighbours to recover presents hidden from the children. This would also involve perhaps a drink and a mince pie and eventually the night turned into a secret neighbourhood party as parents scuttled around recovering presents from other people’s attics whilst not waking the children. She liked the bustle and mild panic because it reinforced the sense of neighbourliness upon the small estate where she had lived.
Now, up on the remote lonely moors, Christmas Eve had taken on a completely different hue. She decided to check on the children and found herself sitting on the dressing table stool as she simply savoured her blissfully sleeping children. Then she remembered the ‘no presents’ issue and shuddered. Sion would be distraught in the morning. Tears forced their way to her eyes but she managed to silence her sobs the last few days had been traumatic and the only seeming good thing had been this rescue by a total stranger. This white knight in shining armour who had appeared in a gleaming land-rover to rescue her and then whisk her to safety, (Or was it his lair?) she asked herself. Then she scolded herself for being so mean-minded. Apart from the strange transvestite thing, he hadn’t put a foot wrong or said a word out of place. Indeed, she actually felt herself feeling safe around him.
She turned to her dressing table and used the makeup she’d ‘borrowed’ from ‘Daphne’ and repaired her face. Then she slipped on her heels and felt ready to face the world again. In the dressing table mirror she checked herself out and nodded satisfactorily before tippy-toeing out of the bedroom and creeping back down stairs. She was nibbling a mince pie when she heard the tip-tap of heels in the alleyway and she turned expectantly. The door opened and a stunning girl entered to stand in a models’ pose for Briony to inspect her. For a second she could not believe it was Dave.
“Daphne?” She whispered for shock had taken her voice.
“Who else darling? D’you like -?”
“My god! You’re stunning girl!”
“Oh thank you, you look pretty good yourself as well. D’you think we’d make a good pair of girls going out on the town?”
Briony wagged her head for she was still getting over the shock.
“You’d pass Dave. You’d pass anywhere!”
“Uuuhhm, it’s Daphne darling. I’m in woman mode now.”
“What, in your head as well.”
“Yes darling. I was planning this anyway. Originally it was going to be a nice quiet Christmas with lots of new clothes at home for Daphne and then off to Manchester for the new-year. Friends to meet places to go, shopping to do. Daphne’s a real ‘girl-about-town’.”
Briony slowly circled Daphne as she studied every detail. Daphne was almost perfect in every way.
“You’ve got fabulous legs and are those all yours?”
Daphne hefted her boobs and made her cleavage even more pronounced.
“Yes dear, all of them. Girly or what?”
Briony wagged her head disbelievingly.
“Oh yes love, girly you definitely are. How did you manage to change and get ready so quickly?”
“Practice dear, lots and lots of practice.”
Daphne glanced in the oval mirror above the sideboard and checked her make-up. She nodded as Briony smiled. For that was exactly what Briony had done when she came downstairs. The harsh kitchen light was an excellent medium to expose any flaws.
After a brief check, she invited Briony to the drawing room
“Everything’s finished here, there’s not much else we can do. Let’s go and watch the festivities on the television.”
Briony accepted the invitation and followed Daphne down the corridor to the drawing room. She could not help but notice that Daphne had a beautiful feminine gait and long slender legs that obviously went ‘all-the-way’. ‘A man would have been slavering!’ Briony told herself with a silent giggle. The micro-dress also did everything to show off her features. Briony felt herself getting jealous and she caught herself.
‘Stoppit girl! That’s a lady-boy you’re envying!’
After opening the door to the dining room Daphne ushered her in. Briony immediately spotted the computer on the occasional table by the window and she turned to Daphne.
“Your lifeline to the outside world, I take it.”
“Oh absolutely darling. Keeps me sane. Oh look! I’ve only just switched on and I’m being pinged by Rachel. D’you mind if I Skype her to check for Manchester and the New-years’-eve party?”
Briony found herself itching to see what one of Daphnes’ friends looked like. A few quick key-strokes later, Rachel was smiling through the screen. ‘She’s not bad looking either,’ Briony reflected, ‘Rachel could pass but not as well as Daphne.’
“Hello darling!” Rachel responded. “Glad you answered. Have you decided on that weekend?”
“Yes love, second Friday is fine but it depends on the weather. I’ve got a couple of feet of snow up here.”
“Oooh. Sounds lovely and Christmassy. I’ll bring my furry knickers.”
“You’d better darling. D’you want to bring Shirley as well?”
“Well she’s not going to the convention but she’ll find plenty to do in Birmingham if she accompanies me there. However she might go to her sisters in Shrewsbury after the New-year thrash. I’m sure she’d love to come visiting; you know what sort of girl she is. Or, if she does go to her sisters, I could meet her at Newtown Station on Friday evening and bring her from there.”
“Okay I’ll get a bedroom ready for you.”
It sounded as though they were closing down but Briony was still curious about Rachel. She leant over Daphnes’ shoulder and Rachels’ expression widened into a warm smile.
“Ooh Daphers! You’ve got company! You are rude! Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“Oops! Sorry darling. This lady is Briony. She got stuck in the snow with her two children and now she’s a house guest until the snow clears.”
“Ooh! All over Christmas! That sounds very exciting and romantic. Did you rescue her then?”
Briony chipped in.
“Yes she did. She’s been marvellous. Saved my life. I crashed on the mountain road with both children in the car.”
“Ooooh!” Rachel’s eyes widened further. “It sounds ever so exciting. Well you’ll be perfectly safe with Daphne, she’s a perfect lady.”
“Yes. She is. I couldn’t have found a better rescuer.”
Rachels' expression changed as she spotted an opening.
“Tell my Briony, I’ve never been there but I’ve Googled it from the satellite pictures. Is that house as big as it looks?”
“I’ll say! And then some! It’s got about a dozen en-suite bed rooms and more servants’ quarters on the third floor. You could use this as a hotel!”
Daphne coughed behind her.
“Uuuhm, that’s enough Briony. I only told them it was big enough to have a party. You make it sound as though I’m an inverted snob trying to talk the house down. Please no more.”
Briony turned and caught Daphne frowning slightly.
“Oh! Sorry; I got a bit carried away, but it is a lovely house.”
Rachel spoke to Daphne.
“Don’t scold her Daphne. She just got carried away. I’m dying to see it. My jaws are almost slavering!”
Daphne shrugged then chuckled then laughed. Briony had not seen Dave or Daphne laugh unreservedly before. It seemed when she was amongst ‘her own kind’, she came alive. Daphne continued explaining to Rachel.
“I’ve never had a house party Rache’. If we do it, we start off small, maybe a dozen guests at first. I’m looking forward to it. If they are as much fun as the one at your house, it’ll be a blast.
Rachel grinned and Briony couldn’t help but like her open smile. ‘All these ‘girls’ only seemed to come alive when they were amongst their own,’ she mused.
“Okay love.” Rachel replied. Now you look after that girl; she looks like a good-un.”
Daphne was about to protest then lost her voice with sheer shock. Briony said nothing. The idea of a house party in this house left her excited. She found herself secretly hoping to be invited. The thought that Rachel thought there was ‘something going on’ between her and Daphne rather piqued her curiosity. She put it at the back of her mind for later discussion. After a few more arrangements, Daphne and Rachel closed down the connection. Briony would have loved to have chatted longer but it was obvious that Rachel was a busy girl. Daphne turned away from the computer and frowned thoughtfully.
“Now you see how people jump to conclusions. Rachels already got you and me down as an item; she’s a match-making schemer. I’ll have to be careful where you’re concerned.”
Briony sensed that Daphne was getting a bit worried about local people talking and she tried to reassure her.
“Honestly Daphne. I won’t ever tell anybody. Why would I want to harm you?”
“Uuuhhm, I’m thinking of your reputation, not mine. What would your friends say if they thought you were seeing a tranny?”
“I wouldn’t care. If they’re my true friends they wouldn’t mind.”
Daphne smiled wryly.
“You say that now but you’d soon notice a change. You should hear some of the stories the girls in Manchester have to tell.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, there are plenty of bigoted hypocrites about. By the way, who’s Shirley? Rachel mentioned her.”
“She’s Rachels’ real wife, a genetic girl. They’ve got two kids.”
“Oh my gosh! That’s nice. So trannies do get married?”
“Yeah, but normally it's not for long. It usually breaks down after the husband ‘comes out’. Shirley was the exception, Rachel will be the first to tell anybody; she was very lucky to discover that Shirley was sympathetic AND she accepted that the kids should know. James and Tara know about their dad and they love it. Truth is, Shirley’s a bit of a party girl. At first she didn’t have much to do with Rachels’ little peccadillo but then she went to one of the parties after Rachel begged her to attend. Once she found out about the parties and the fun they have, she refused to be left out. Shirley’s more wild than Rachel.”
“Are they, you know ... into other stuff?”
“D’you mean B, D, S, M and stuff? Not to my knowledge. If they are, they won’t be using my house. I’m transgendered and transvestite and that’s it; nothing else. If other people are into that stuff then let them get on with it. I’m not but I don’t judge others about it.
If Rachels’ parties come off it’s strictly trans, and nothing else. If the kids come, I want it to be legal. No adult stuff!”
Briony felt reassured. She was curious to meet this Rachel and Shirley. Curious to see how a transvestite related to his (or was that her) wife. Daphne left the computer on ‘standby’ and they settled into two large overstuffed armchairs either side of the empty fire-place. As she looked into the sooty black maw, Briony realised Dave or perhaps Daphne, must have fires in there occasionally. The soot and burn marks were quite recent. The lack of any fire cause her to wonder how the room was heated for she couldn’t see any radiators. There were no draughts and the large room was very comfortable. She felt no need to curl up to keep warm and Daphne seemed perfectly comfortable in her micro-dress.
“This place must cost the earth to heat.”
Daphne smiled.
“Not really. Down in the valley, there used to be an old mill that served the estate and ground corn for the labourers at the lead mine down at Llynn Clywedog. The lower pastures can grow wheat and oats so in the old days they produced flour to make the bread. Nowadays we just grow hay but it could be ploughed over for arable if we wanted. Trouble is the fields are too small and too steep for modern machinery. Consequently we grow winter fodder for the animals and some oats and barley for Angel.
Anyway, when gran died, the last link with the old ways were severed. Dad and I turned the water wheel over to a turbine and we generate our own juice. A few hundred kilowatts on a wet day when the river’s full. Saves us a pile of money and we can even sell a bit back to the grid. My electric bills are zilch and that includes the heating. Neat aye?”
“What? Your heating bills are zero?”
“Exactly. There’s a huge electric heater down in the cellar and warm air is ducted around most of the house, certainly the main living rooms and all the bedrooms upstairs and back stairs.”
“Back stairs! Why Daphne Cadwalloder, you make it sound like the old days with servants and everything.”
“Nope,” Daphne grinned, “no servants around here. I live alone remember. This evening I went around and turned the heating up all around the house. You can go into any room and it’s pleasantly warm.”
As if to emphasise his words, there was a sudden gust of wind and it moaned around the chimney pots. Briony would have cuddled up to something warm if she hadn’t been so comfortable. She suddenly realised she would liked to have cuddled up to a companion because the wind moaned eerily.
“Ooooh. Just listen to that wind. It’s really spooky. Hope this place isn’t haunted.”
“Well I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never met one.”
“Are there any stories of any?” Briony asked.
“I don’t know. You have to remember, I’ve only lived here with my mum, dad and gran. They didn’t want to frighten me and I’ve never had any creepy feelings all the time I’ve lived here alone.”
The wind started to moan again and Briony stepped to the window. Daphne had switched the outside sensor lights on and the wind blowing the trees had activated them. Briony poked her face between the heavy curtains and watched the snow swirling past in the brilliant glare of the halogen lights. The wind was ferocious and it was a furious blizzard outside. She turned to look at Daphne draped unconcernedly over her armchair then the wind picked up from a moan to a howl and finally it shrieked like a banshee. The suddenness caused Briony to squeak with alarm but Daphne seemed unperturbed. She turned to reassure Briony.
“Don’t worry; it often sounds like that in this room in a westerly wind. Different rooms get different sounds depending on the wind speed and direction. Proper meteorologist’s laboratory, this house.”
The screeching wind made Briony feel cold even though she wasn’t She shivered and skipped nimbly towards Daphne.
“Move up, I want a cuddle.”
“It’s not cold, what’s up.”
“That wind; it just sounds cold. Makes you want to cuddle up and get warm.”
Daphne chuckled with amusement.
“You’re a strange girl. Yesterday you were all suspicion and protection. Today you want to cuddle up, it’s not cold; well not in here it’s not.”
“Just budge up and make space for a little one.”
“That arse is not so little girl, though I must confess it’s a nice one.”
Briony gasped.
“Are you saying my arse is big!?”
“No, just not so little. It’s curvier than mine but it’s still delicious.”
Briony squeaked with amusement.
“You cheeky bitch! I’m not surprised it’s curvier than yours, it’s supposed to be! I’m a real girl; you’re just a Tee girl.”
Daphne wagged her head in amusement as she slid to one side of the wide armchair and made space for Briony. Briony wasted no time in snuggling into the space as the wind shrieked again.
“Just listen to it.” Briony shuddered. “No wonder the Irish call it the banshee.”
“This isn’t Ireland Daphne chuckled, but we Welsh have another name, ellyll.”
“Yeah, fiend or goblin.”
“Oh dda iawn, your Welsh is good then.” Daphne congratulated her.
“I’d just call it Ysbryd Drwg ... bad spirit.” Briony added.
“Winds aren’t all bad love.”
“That one is, just listen to it.”
She squeezed up to Daphne glad that she found such a warm safe haven. ‘If Dave hadn’t found her she would definitely have been dead by now.’ And she knew it. Daphne adjusted herself on the chair and leaned against Daphnes’ breasts then realised what she was doing. For a brief instant she had felt like a child cuddling up to her mother. She jerked away and stared at Daphne who met her gaze and smiled indulgently. Briony almost squeaked her apology.
“I’m sorry. I forgot! That was unforgiveable of me. I was just thinking of the screeching wind and cuddling up. For an instant I forgot myself and the wind ... you know. A cuddle seemed just right.”
“Why was it unforgiveable?” Daphne asked softly while she left her arm still draped around the back of the chair.
“That must have been offensive, I mean laying my head there; I was taking advantage; I’m sorry. You must be upset.”
“On the contrary, it was the nicest thing you could ever have done."
Briony fell silent, stumped as to what Daphne was driving at.
“What d’you mean.”
“You still don’t get it do you. This is Daphne sitting here right now. Try and understand that. Daphne is a woman. We are two women sitting here now. Daphne is not going to hurt you, or try anything on. I liked it when you cuddled up just then.
It’s what girls do isn’t it? Girls are much more tactile than men and they don’t see it as an ‘invitation’ Put your head back there if you want. I liked it. It made me feel like a proper girl. All girls together. Honestly I’m not looking for anything boywise.”
Briony stared into Daphnes’ face, saw nothing that hinted of predation and gently leaned sideways again. Daphnes’ arm remained draped over the settee offering no threat and Briony eventually relaxed. She rocked her head gently and Daphne murmured.
“Easy Bri’ don’t crush me they’re every bit as sensitive as a real girl’s.”
“Sorry.” Briony replied as she savoured the safe intimacy without any sense of threat.
They lay like that, quietly chatting about Brionys’ broken marriage, Daphnes’ transgendered nature, the children and Christmas. After talking about the children and the looming heartbreak for Sion, Briony asked Daphne.
“Would you ever want children?”
Daphne sighed.
“Aye, I would, but it’ll never happen, I’m never likely to become a mum am I?”
“You could become a dad,” Briony suggested.
“Who’d have kids by a transsexual? I mean, first find a wife ... a woman that is. Then convince her that trannies make good parents and so on and so on. Next she’d have to live up here in the remotest part of Wales on a farm that must have some of the bleakest features in moorland Britain. This place makes the Dales or the Pennines look subtropical.”
Briony snorted then giggled.
“Well I’ve got to agree with you there. Just look out of the flippin window.”
As she said this, she pulled Daphnes’ loose arm around her and gripped the fingers against her own breasts. She was pleased to see that Daphne simply let it lie there without ‘testing’ anything. ‘Another little test had just been passed with flying colours.’ Daphne’s fingers simply curled into the natural relaxed semi-grip of a normal female hand. No pressing, no grabbing; nothing.
Then, suddenly, a little alarm went off on the computer and Daphne excused herself as she struggled free of Brionys’ cuddle to attend to it. Briony looked over the arm a little irritably as Daphne pressed the keyboard and a camera image appeared. It was a video of Angel the mare. Daphne had cameras all around the farm and house.
“Ah, she’s started,” Daphne squeaked as she stood to leave.”
“Started what? Who, where? Where are you going girl?” Daphne gasped. “It’s nearly three o’clock in the morning!”
Without turning to explain, Daphne threw her answer over her shoulder.
“It’s Angel, she’s gone into labour, she’s foaling.”
“Oh my God!” Briony squeaked. “What shall I do?”
“Go to bed. I’ll be up all night.” Daphne called from halfway down the hall.
Instead, Briony put on the coat and outsized wellies that Daphne had lent her. Within minutes, she was picking her away across the yard, bent double against the biting wind. She entered the barn to find Daphne reassuring her horse whilst gently feeling her belly and testing the mares’ reproductive parts.
“Will she be alright?” Briony asked.
“She’s a good mother. She’s had two before without complications. I’m not expecting any this time. She’s full term.”
Briony relaxed slightly as Daphne completed her examination. Then as Daphne turned to leave Briony remarked.
“Shouldn’t you change? If you get any more involved you’ll ruin that beautiful dress.”
“Daphne grinned and nodded. Yeah. Your right. I’ll go and change.”
They returned to the house as Daphne assured Briony.
“It’s usually a couple of hours to parturition. But I’ll stay up with her.”
Briony nodded and asked if she should change as well.
“Well that’s one of my favourite dresses love, perhaps you should borrow a pair of my skinny jeans and some winter sweaters.
Sorry, I don’t have girly thermals, Daphne’s a bit of a fashion queen when it comes to underwear.”
“If I can find some opaque tights, they’ll do.”
“Good thinking girl, that’s what I do. I’d like to to stay in girly mode cos that's what I planned to do for Christmas. Do you mind; will Sion mind?"
"Seems as though I've no right to object now I've seen you complete as Daphnes. By all means you dress girly if you want. It's your house anyway."
She saw Daphnes' hopefull expresion expand into a delightful glow of gratitude.
"Thanks briony. That's really nice of you, I mean that!"
"Well don't stand here all night , there's a poor mother out ther needing help!"
"Okay. I’m going to get some stuff from the wardrobe as well. Just give me a moment.”
Daphne disappeared into the wardrobe and in a couple of moments emerged suitably attired as a stable-girl ready for the stable. She turned to Briony and suggested.
“You don’t have to stay up. I’ll be okay by myself. I’ve attended her both times before.”
“I want to.” Briony protested. “Besides, I’ve never seen a foal being born.”
“What happens if she doesn’t deliver until later in the morning?” Daphne cautioned her.
“Then I’ll just have to get on with starting the dinner.”
“Okay, but I’ll sort the goose out about sixish then return here.”
“Can Sion come and watch if he’s awake when it comes?”
“Yeah." Daphne replied. "Sure. It might take his mind off the presents thing. Oh!”
“What?” Briony asked nervously.
“I’ve just had a thought. If it comes around sixish, we could make the foal Sions’ Christmas present from Santa. You said he asked for a horse.”
“God forbid Daphne! Where would we keep it? I don’t have a stable and a flipping field. I’m going to live with my sister. She’s got a small, three bedroom semi in Machynlleth there will be six of us with her, me and the four kids. That’s crazy.”
Daphne fell silent then suggested.
“He could keep the horse here. It’s going to be with Angel for the next twelve months anyway. Maybe, by then, you’ll have sorted yourself out. It will get around the Santa thing won’t it? A very special present and he gets to see the foal being born, even if we have to wake him up.”
Briony wanted to cry. It seemed that as Dave or Daphne, 'this man-woman or woman-man just never seemed to stop coming up with solutions'. The miracle of seeing a foal being born would give Sion the biggest thrill of his short life. The idea that the foal was a very special present from Santa was simply brilliant. They could sort out the problems of ownership and stabling later. This would get them through the approaching trauma of Christmas morning. The problem had been exhausting Brionys’ brain. The foal was a veritable gift from heaven and Briony slumped on the kitchen settee exhausted with gratitude.
The Ram 7
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Here's the next chapter of The Ram
The Welsh Mountain Ram 7.
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month-old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave. Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
Briony woke to feel a gentle tapping on her shoulder. She went to move her head and winced painfully. Her neck was as stiff as a board. The tapping stopped and a voice spoke softly.
“Wakey, wakey lazy bones. It’s nearly six o’clock.”
“Oooh, aah, ouch! My necks stiff. Oww!”
Daphne smiled down at her.
“I’m not surprised sleeping in that position. Just rub it gently; it’ll soon sort itself out.”
Briony tried then winced again, her shoulders were also stiff. Then she felt delicate fingers gently massaging first her atlas bone then the axis bone of her neck. She smiled as she savoured the tingles it sent down her spine.
“Mmmm. That’s lovely, don’t stop.”
“Have to stop darling in a minute darling or our goose will never be cooked.”
“Ooh. Oooh yes, oh that’s better. Thanks, you’ve got gentle hands. Oh that’s lovely, what time is it?”
“I’ve just told you, it’s nearly six o’clock. I’ve just scrubbed up to put the goose in.”
Daphne stopped the massage and turned to the bird she’d brought in while Briony was sleeping.
Briony eventually sat up ... reluctantly. She had wanted the neck massage to go on forever. She watched Daphne preparing the goose then placing it in the Agas’ capacious main oven. She grinned as she savoured the sight of Daphnes’ rounded bum bent over in her skinny jeans.
“She’s not got a bad bum for a girl,’ Briony mused then silently scolded herself. ‘What are you thinking girl! That’s a little boy in those jeans ... I think.’
She smiled inwardly then went to stand but winced yet again as the twinges lanced through her shoulders.
“Oowow. Dammit, I should have gone to bed before I was too tired. Sleeping on that sag-bag thing has bent me all crooked.”
Daphne turned, smiled and held out her hands again after wiping them on the tea-towel.
“Here let me finish off the massage. You’ll feel okay then.”
Briony turned to face the kitchen window and sighed again as the knowing fingers found the exact spot and worked away the aches. She chuckled to herself and Daphne asked.
“What’s so funny?”
“This. Being woken up by a lovely ma- no, woman and only getting my shoulders massaged.”
“What d’you mean?”
Briony stopped herself as she realised Daphne had not caught on.
“Oh. I won’t say any more.”
“No. Go on, I’m intrigued.”
Briony hesitated nervously. What she was about to say could ruin the atmosphere and spoil the whole day. A day that seemed to be starting out with so much promise.
“You won’t be angry will you?”
“Why should I be angry?”
“Well it’s a bit cheeky.”
“Go on, I’ve suffered plenty of cheek.”
“Well, perhaps I better hadn’t say it.”
“You’ve got me intrigued now. My girly brain hates to have a mystery. Go on, tell me.”
“Alright then Pandora. It’s just that normally, if a ... d’you mind if I say man, cos the remark goes better?”
Daphne shrugged and nodded assent. Briony continued.
“If a man wakes a woman up at this time of morning the massage is usually a lot more uuuhhm, you know ... intimate.”
“Well you’re safe then cos’ at the moment I’m in girl mode.” Then Daphne giggled and added. “Unless you’re a lesbian and then I’m the one that’s not safe.”
Briony turned quickly and playfully thumped Daphnes’ chest then realised she had thumped her breast. Daphne winced and staggered back.
“Oooww! Oow that hurt. Owww you’ve bloody hurt me!”
Brionys’’ playful smile changed instantly to apology.
“Oh shit! Sorry. Sorry. I forgot! For one fleeting moment I forgot! Sorry, sorry!”
Daphne slumped onto one of the kitchen chairs by the table and rested her head in her arms on the table as she gasped with pain. Briony stared guiltily and felt angry with herself for being so stupid. If Daphnes’ breasts were still growing, and it seemed that they were, then they would be tender and sensitive. She sat in the chair next to Daphne and gently stroked her neck.
“I’m sorry love. I truly am. That was stupid of me!”
When Daphne recovered, she looked up and Briony was distraught to see tears. Briony had really hurt her by a simple playful thump. Daphne stared at Briony resentfully.
“You see me as a boy, no matter what, don’t you? Even though it’s obvious I’ve got breasts, you still see me as a boy.”
“No! No! Briony protested. It was just a lapse. I forgot. When you massaged me that was such a boy-friend thing to do. Boys do that sort of thing for their girlfriends and when you did it for me I sort of did a mental switch for a moment. I just lost my way for a moment and thought of our relationship as boy and girl. I’m so sorry. I don’t see you as a boy! My god girl, you’re far too feminine and pretty for that. You’re beautiful, you took my breath away when you first appeared last night. No; truly! You’re a girl, all girl! It was just a lapse, honest. You’ve been so protective and considerate I sort of felt I was the girl and you were the boy in this relationship!”
“Relationship?” Daphne frowned nervously. “What relationship?”
Briony did a sudden take as she realised she had rather revealed her growing feelings. It wasn’t Dave or Daphne she was growing feelings for, it was the relationship where she felt protected and safe. Daphne was so considerate. Briony realised she was truly getting in deep. She reached out and took Daphnes’ hands in her own then gently raised them to her lips as she kissed them.
“I, I’m sorry. I’m growing fond of you!”
Daphnes’ tearful eyes widened nervously.
“Look Briony, please don’t mess with me, don’t wind me up. Is it Daphne or Dave you’re growing fond of?”
Briony hesitated for in truth she wasn’t sure.
“I don’t know, sometimes they seem like the same person then sometimes I see one or the other. I’m falling for the dual person, and yet I’m falling for the relationship.”
Daphne frowned uncertainly then she wagged her head.
“Listen love, I’ve never been in a relationship. I’m terrified of getting involved and then the whole thing blowing up in my transgendered face. I’ve heard so many awful stories from my trans friends, I’m afraid to get involved. I keep my emotions on a tight rein and I’m afraid ever to reveal ‘the real me’; mainly because I’m still unsure and undecided who ‘the real me’ is. I’ve never ever been with a man ... or a woman for that matter.”
Brionys’ eyes widened in surprise and Daphne noted her reaction.
“That’s right; it’s true. I’m a virgin in every respect. I’ve no idea how to respond, or which way to go.”
Briony smiled in an effort to encourage Daphne.
“Why don’t you just let yourself be yourself? Just let your emotions take you where they want to go?”
“My emotions might just take me to a place I shouldn’t be or don’t want to be. Transgenderism’s a pretty complicated situation; well it is for me anyway. I don’t know if a relationship might complicate it further.”
“Or simplify it.” Briony added softly.
Daphne squinted suspiciously as she pursed her lips thoughtfully.
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
It was Brionys’ turn to suck her lip as she debated revealing her growing feelings.
‘Would she bolt like a rabbit?’ Briony wondered, ‘or would blow up in my face?’
“Would you be annoyed if I told you?”
“I’d like to know what it is you’re looking for.”
“If I tell you please tell me you won’t be angry. If you are angry, could you tell me when I’m leaving here; that is after the snow clears.”
“I’d try,” Daphne conceded, “I can’t make any promises. If you think it’s that bad, don’t tell me.”
‘Here goes nothing,’ thought Briony.
“Well. I have grown rather fond of you. You’ve been so kind and considerate and you’ve been wonderful to Sion. It’s obvious he adores you.”
“He adores Dave. What will he think of Daphne?”
“That would be for after, after we’ve sorted things out.” Briony added nervously.
“Sorted what?” Daphne pressed.
“Well, I’d like stuff to go further. I’d really like to see if we could make a relationship work.”
“Good God girl, you’ve only just left your husband. Don’t you think this is a bit sudden? How would Sion see it?”
Briony sniffed dissmissively.
“Sion hates his father, he’s terrified of him. He’s seen the man beating me and he’s had some pretty awful thrashings as well. He’s already told me he’s afraid for Ellairy.”
Daphne fell silent. Things were moving too quickly for her. She wagged her head in despair and made her excuses.
“I’d better go and see how Angel’s getting on.”
Briony watched her stumble into the snow covered yard then she sat staring at the kitchen wall. She wasn’t sure what to make of Daphnes’ reactions.
‘The girl hadn’t said yes or no so it was obvious there was some sort of hope.’
Daphne entered the loose box to find Angel progressing satisfactorily. She felt the mares’ belly and the foal was still active within so it was all proceeding as before. A quick circuit of the other animals finally brought her to Peter the rams' pen. The ram stamped his forefoot and bleated gruffly as Daphne bent over.
“Well my boy. Seems like only you and Laddie are real men around here. I hope you’re going to look after us.”
“She fed the ram some high protein nuts and it ate greedily from her hand. That done, she took a long walk around the paddock to check the penned flock. In the daylight she would have to feed them and then release them into the lower pasture. There was still a substantial amount of grazing under the snow and the animals knew how to find it. Satisfied with everything, she returned to the farm house to find Briony nursing Ellairy It was seven o’clock and any minute Sion would appear asking about presents. As Daphne stamped the snow off her boots in the utility room, Briony strolled from the kitchen to meet her with Ellairy busy at her breast.
Briony was pleasantly pleased when Daphne failed to respond in anyway and continued with normal eye-to-eye contact whilst explaining about Angel the mare.
“She’ll be foaling soon. All the signs are good and she’s started contractions. I’m just having a cup of coffee to warm up and I’ll be back in the barn. If Sion wakes up, bring him over.”
Briony smiled, nodded and returned to settle in one of the Windsor chairs by the Aga. Daphne was just finishing her coffee and Briony had just finished feeding Ellairy when a small tearful face appeared around the passageway door.
“He hasn’t come mummy!”
Briony held out her arms to comfort him and he flung himself into them. Daphne was relieved that Sion hadn’t seemed to notice the ‘strange woman’ in the kitchen and she slinked out after mouthing. “I’ll just check on Angel,” before slipping un-noticed out of the kitchen.
She returned several minutes later to find Sion still distraught and crying his eyes out. This time she checked her appearance in the mirror beside the back door then announced her arrival while Sion was still burrowed into Brionys’ embrace.
“Oh dear, dear, dear. What’s wrong young man?”
Sion twisted around and stared uncomprehendingly at the stranger.
“Who, - who are you?” He sobbed.
“Why I’m Daphne young man and I presume you are still Sion.”
Sion nodded uncertainly then turned to look up at his mother.
“Where did she come from mummy?”
Daphne answered before Briony could speak.
“You don’t have to worry where I came from young man, it’s what I’ve got to tell you that matters.”
Sion stared, puzzled as Daphne explained.
“You’ll be pleased to know that Santa has prepared a very, very special present for you.”
Sions’ face brightened and the tears dried up.
“What?”
“Well, you get dressed young man, and I can show you. Mummy can come as well.”
Sion was upstairs in a flash and Briony asked Daphne how things were.
“She’s started. I just felt the hooves and head engaging. She’ll be bearing soon. You’d better hurry him up and bring some warm coats; it’s still dark and cold.”
Briony quickly followed Sion upstairs and Daphne collected some more lamps, cloths and warm soapy water. When Briony and Sion returned she was standing at the back door ready to lead them to the stable.
Sion eagerly took one of the swinging lights and trudged curiously in Daphnes’ footsteps. Briony was surprised at how much snow had fallen again. The tracks they had cleared earlier were now just shadowed canyons under the new snowfall. They entered the stable to find Angel neighing softly as Daphne was pleased to find the foals hooves and nose already showing. She firstly calmed Angel with soft words then stepped slowly to Angels’ rear. It was obvious to Briony that both horse and woman were old hands at this as Daphne washed her hands and invited Sion into the loosebox.
When the boy was beside Daphne, she gently showed him the foals’ hooves and nose as Angel contracted again to inch her foetus out. Daphne softly explained what was happening and Sion was mesmerised by the magic. In the lamp-light, Daphne gently took Sion’s hand and laid it on the foals’ hooves as she explained.
“Now Sion, Angel will need a little help giving birth to her foal and you and I are going to do that. What you’ve got to do is gently keep a steady pull on the hooves. Can you do that?”
“I think so. How hard do I pull?”
“Not very, you mustn’t hurt Angel; she’s already suffering enough cos’ giving birth is a very painful process.”
As she explained, Daphne gently pulled Sions’ wrists to demonstrate how much force. Sion nodded and with eyes alight with excitement, he pulled gently. The foal slipped further out and Sion could now recognise the head.
“It’s coming!” He almost squeaked.
“Yes, now I’ll catch it as she starts to come quicker. Once the head and shoulders are clear, the foal will virtually fall out.”
Even as Daphne spoke, Angel gave a final soft neigh and expelled the foal in one smooth slippery wet motion. It almost caught Daphne unawares as she was explaining to Sion.
“Ooo-ops! Nearly lost it then. Now let the foal come down as I lower the body and legs.”
Sion lowered the head and front hooves gently as Daphne lowered the bulk of the body. Then carefully cleared the mouth as Angel gave another soft winey and turned around to lick the foal. Within seconds the foal responded with a soft cough and raised its head as Angel started to lick its face. The head bobbed eagerly in response to the mothers’ stimulation and Daphne looked on with satisfaction while Sion just stood entranced by what he had just seen and shared. Sion then turned to Briony.
“She’s had a baby ... just like Jesus on Christmas day!”
“Shhh, darling not so loud, don’t startle them.”
Daphne explained gently.
“She’s a very good tempered mare. She’ll not be startled by Sions’ voice, though the foal needs to be calm and quiet for the first few hours as she finds her feet.”
“Is it a girl then?” Sion asked.
“Yes.” Daphne relied, “she’s a little girl, are you happy to have a girl?”
Sion looked puzzled. “Me?”
“Yes, you. This is Santa’s present to you. You said you wanted a pony didn’t you?”
Sion was speechless with disbelief as he turned to his mother.
“Is she really mine mummy?”
Briony glanced uncertainly at Daphne but Daphne quickly averted the care question.
“She’ll stay up here on the farm with her mother and you can come to see her whenever you want. When she’s older, I’ll teach you how to ride her.”
Then Daphne addressed Briony.
“She can stay up here as long as Sion wants a horse. Angel’s getting a bit long in the tooth and we need a younger mount to share the summer flock patrol duties. He can come out with me on summer rides, provided you’re happy.”
Briony was speechless then tears started again, tears of gratitude and joy. Sion was too engrossed in stroking the still wet foal to notice his mothers’ tears. Then Daphne bent down to attend as Angel nuzzled both foal and boy.
Sion was in heaven.
The Ram 8
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Here's Chapter 8 of The Ram.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 8.
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month-old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave. Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
Sion stayed with Daphne in the stable while Briony slipped away to make some hot chocolate and toast ‘for the men’ she told herself, then she had to mentally correct herself. As long as Daphne remained as Daphne, Briony would have to maintain the subterfuge. Though, as she picked her way across the yard, she concluded ‘that would not be a hard task, Daphne was every inch a girl even when dressed in skinny jeans, jerseys and a waterproof apron.’ Briony smiled to herself as she made the sanctuary of the warm kitchen and prepared the drinks. It was now seven o’clock on Christmas morning and the first fingers of the low winter sun were needling their way through the receding snow clouds to the east. Briony felt uplifted, she had never felt or seen a more inspiring dawn; ‘and Christmas Day to boot!’ She smiled to herself.
With the tray prepared, she braved the yard again and found Daphne explaining what the placenta was while Sion looked puzzled at Angel actually eating it.
“She’s eating part of her own tummy!” Sion squeaked.
Daphne explained that the placenta was very nutritious and sometimes, even herbivores ate their own placentas, especially if it was cold and food was scarce.
Briony smiled as she listened while Daphne and Sion wiped their hands on the sterile ‘baby-wipes’ Briony had brought then they sipped their chocolates and Daphne explained further.
“If food is scarce then that’s sometimes why they do it. I’ve only seen Angel do it once before and that was also a winter birth as well.”
Sion peeped into the feed box and frowned.
“But she’s got plenty of food.”
“Yes but I think it’s more to do with the weather and the cold, than the availability of food. Normally, in the wild, in winter, food is scarce. Animals tend to be more responsive to the seasons than we humans do.”
Briony loved the way Daphne qualified every statement to enable Sion to understand that everything was not a hard and fast fact; not an unbreakable rule. It enabled Sion to ask about things, and even disagree without fear of being bullied. Then Sion got excited.
“Look! She’s trying to get up. Let’s help her.”
Daphne gently restrained the boy as once more she explained.
“I think we should first let her try on her own. She’ll learn better that way. Like all of us, she has to make her own way sooner or later. Let’s sit and watch for a while. If she can’t get up after an hour, then we’ll help her.”
Sion settled in the hay beside Daphne while Briony returned to the kitchen. There, exhausted by the long night, she fell asleep again on the ‘saggy-baggy’ sofa. This time however, she made herself comfortable with some extra cushions from the Windsor chairs.
She was awoken at ten by Daphne and Sion returning. Sions’ excited chatter alerted her as they entered the back door. He was so keen to report everything that he was chattering even as he kicked off his wellies and removed his coat.
“She’s feeding her mummy, just like you feed Ellairy. I tasted some of her milk. It’s sweet! Sweeter than a cows’ or yours.”
Briony blushed. She had once let Sion have a taste when Ellairy had first arrived and his father had hit him. The boy was distraught and as she had cuddled him, he sneaked a nurse. She had let him continue until he fell asleep on her lap. Briony was surprised he had remembered the taste. She blushed even deeper when Daphne smiled enviously.
“What?” Briony whispered.
“You’re so lucky.”
“What d’you mean?”
“You girls are so lucky ... lucky to be able to have children and then continue with the intimacy by feeding them. You’re just so, so-oo lucky. I really envy you.” Daphne sighed as she peeled off her boots and jerseys to reveal a top blouse that rather revealed her own cleavage. Briony glanced at the cleavage and grinned.
“If you keep growing those, you’ll be able to feed Ellairy as well.”
Daphne blushed. The conversation had wandered too far down a road Daphne was afraid to travel. At least, not yet; not with a woman she had only known for a little over two days. She changed the subject by turning to tousle Sions’ hair affectionately.
“He’s a lovely kid, and very helpful. He’s been excellent with Angel and her new daughter.”
Briony could have sworn she saw Sion actually grow an inch with pride as his eyes lit up and the smile nearly split his face.
She reflected contentedly, ‘It seemed no matter whether she was Daphne or Dave; she or he; no matter which; certainly had a knack with children.’
Sion promptly confirmed Brionys’ feelings by clambering up on Daphnes’ knee for want of room on his mothers’ lap. There he snuggled in and rested his head happily on Daphnes’ breasts. Daphne looked up to search Brionys’ face for any sign of disapproval. At first Briony was wondering how to take it but when she recognised Daphnes’ need for acceptance she eventually smiled.
Daphne turned to hide a tear of gratitude; then she reached for a tissue from the box on the side-board to wipe it away. When she turned again to face Briony she was smiling.
“Thanks Bri’. That was kind of you.”
“What happens when he finds out?” Briony asked.
“We’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“Which will be pretty soon.” Briony warned. “He’ll be wondering where your alter/ego is any minute.”
Although this conversation had gone straight over Sions’ head, he was a bright kid and immediately asked what an ‘alter ego’ was.
Briony was at a bit of a loss to explain without giving the game away so Daphne took the bull by the horns. If there were to be any revelations it was best to free Briony from any burdens.
Daphne turned Sion on her lap, looked straight into the boys’ eyes and explained.
“An alter ego is another side to a persons’ personality; as if they have two different sides or even more.”
“You mean like my dad?” Sion responded.
Daphne was stumped. She didn’t want to put her foot in it for she knew nothing of the family. It was Brionys’ turn to rescue Daphne as she explained.
“His dad has terrible mood swings and he gets very violent. It’s frightening.”
Daphne was about to comment when she felt Sion grab tightly as he whimpered.
“We’re not going back are we?”
Daphne casually moved her hand from Sions’ waist to embrace him in a reassuring hug but she said nothing, for she knew nothing. Briony replied instead.
“No darling we’re not going back. Not this time. We’re going to Auntie Nestors’ in Machynlleth and we’re staying there.”
“Can’t we stay here?”
His question left Daphne flummoxed and Briony somewhat embarrassed. They exchanged uncertain looks for secretly, each had realised they were growing fond of the other. Briony liked Daphne or Dave because she/he had been such a gentleman when rescuing her and later proven to be perfect when dealing with Sion. Briony had watched her son literally blossoming before her eyes.
Daphne on the other hand was hugely reassured when Briony had proved to be utterly unmoved by her unusual, transgendered lifestyle. Indeed, Briony had even shown support and that shouted volumes to Daphne.
Both girls felt there was potential and yet both girls wanted to take it slowly without ‘jumping the gun’. Sion’s question had somewhat pre-empted things. Briony replied to Sions’ question somewhat ambiguously. She felt they certainly couldn’t simply plonk themselves there and then on Daphnes’ hospitality but alternatively, she did not want to slam the door shut for eternity. Daphne swallowed nervously as she tried to reassure Sion without frightening or offending Daphne.
“Well darling, we can’t simply land in somebodys’ lap unexpectedly and then expect to stay there forever. We weren’t invited here; we ended up here by accident. I hardly think Daphne is expecting us to stay here forever. She’s not a relation and this house is not a hotel.”
“But there are plenty of rooms.” Sion observed.
“I know darling but it’s not a hotel. This is Daphnes’ house.”
Even as she said it, she realised she had made a mistake. Sion frowned as his brain clicked away.
“I thought it was Daves’ house. He told me it was when we were clearing the snow on the road yesterday.”
Briony felt trapped but she persevered.
“Well yes, it is Daves’ house.”
“Where is he? If I could ask Dave he might let us stay here. Daddy won’t find us here.”
Daphne could stand the tension no longer. The more Briony tried to avoid the issue, the deeper the hole she was digging and the bigger the lie would be when and if they finally had to tell Sion. She spoke softly and slowly for the boy was still nestled into her breasts.
“Sion look at me.”
Sion squirmed around and sat up to look straight into Daphnes’ eyes as Daphne asked.
“Can you tell me who you see Sion?”
“I see you, Daphne.”
“Very good darling now watch carefully. I’m going to take off my hair.”
Sion smiled disbelievingly then his eyes widened as slowly, Daphne peeled up the ear tabs of her wig then gradually eased the whole hairpiece forward. Sion was deathly silent as Daphne put the wig aside then removed the net wig cap to display Dave’s short light brown hair. The wig was the prime element of disguise and Briony tensed as she saw dawning begin to appear in Sions’ eyes. Daphne spoke softly.
“Yes, Sion, it’s not a trick you are seeing what you think you are seeing. I’m David.”
Sions’ jaw sagged but Briony was mercifully relieved that Sion did not scream or try to escape.
“Mummy, it is Dave! He’s a woman!”
Daphne re-secured the wig net then replaced the wig and turned to check in the oval mirror at the back of the sideboard as Sion simply continued staring in silence. Briony continued sitting tensely, still expecting Sion to suddenly react. Instead, Sion simply revealed his age by asking very personal and invasive questions. Firstly he ‘tested’ Daphnes’ breasts and demanded.
“Are they real?”
“Yes darling, and please, don’t prod them like that. It’s rather rude.”
Both Briony and Daphne were expecting the next question but Briony wasn’t sure exactly what Daphne had between her legs. The question came straight from the shoulder.
“What have you got down there?”
Daphne reserved her right to be coy.
“That’s not the sort of question little boys should be asking grown-ups, so I’m not going to tell you.”
To Brionys’ amazement, Sion accepted the reply and went on to ask more.
“So are you a boy or a girl?”
“I’m both Sion. Sometimes I’m a boy and sometimes I’m a girl. At the moment, and for the rest of Christmas, I’ll be a girl.”
“Don’t you like being a boy?”
“Yes; sometimes I do like it, but not always.”
“Why?”
“Ah, now there you’ve asked a question that I can’t answer. The truth is I don’t know.”
“Will you be a boy tomorrow?”
“Probably not. But the day after Boxing Day I’ll be a boy again.”
“How will you know, is it like daddy and the rows?”
“How d’you mean?”
“Well he always comes home angry after he’s had a drink.”
“Well it’s not like that for me Sion. Firstly I don’t drink and secondly it makes me feel better to be a woman most of the time. That way I know when I’ll want to be a man again. Being a woman makes me feel happy so when I want to be a man, I don’t get angry because I’ve had a good time being a woman.”
“Which is better, being a woman or being a man?”
“For me, I prefer being a woman. I think it’s better being a woman but most men don’t think like me. Lots of men can’t even understand why I like being a woman and then changing to a man.”
“Can you still do man things?”
Both Briony and Daphne froze but Daphne realised that Sion was probably thinking about work and strength, not the more intimate aspects. Daphne replied.
“Yes, Daphne can do all the things Dave can do like driving the tractor or all the other jobs on the farm.”
“Even the boy jobs like lifting bales.”
“Yes. No problem. If Dave can do it then Daphne can do it. But she usually leaves it to Dave.”
Briony smiled. That answer would keep Sion thinking for hours for it accurately demonstrated the duality that existed in Daphne and Daves head.
The Ram 9
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Here's chapter 9 of The Ram.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 9
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave. Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
Sion continued sitting on Daphnes’ lap which pleased Briony. Her son was at least at ease with the discovery and demonstrated it by continuing to make himself comfortable against Daphnes’ breasts. Briony gave Daphne a searching look to ascertain if Daphne was at ease with the innocent intimacy. Daphne nodded slowly and sat quietly savouring the peace and quiet as Sion slowly dozed off. The cold morning in the barn had taken its toll and Sion was sleepy. Daphne had been up all night so Briony was not surprised when Daphnes’ head also began to droop. Briony watched as first Sion and then Daphne nodded off while she sat comfortably on the sofa with Ellairy still suckling at her breasts.
‘The more Ellairy Drank now, the less demands she’d make later,’ Briony concluded as she lay back to savour the calm before the looming preparations for Christmas dinner. She wasn’t surprised to find herself being woken by the cooking timer alarm at eleven.
She sat up to see Daphne putting the veg on and she gently placed Ellairy beside the still sleeping Sion on the other end of the settee. Daphne turned and smiled.
“Ahh, good. You’re awake. Can you watch the kitchen and the kids while I lay the dining room table?”
“My pleasure; eating in style are we?”
“Well it’s my pleasure as well. This will be the first proper, ‘round the table’ Christmas dinner in this house since mummy died.”
“What about when your Nan was here?”
She and Dad used to take me to my aunties’ every Christmas. My mums’ sisters used to get together at a different house each Christmas but I always felt a little out of it. I missed my mummy and her sisters only reminded me of her. They’re very alike. When Grandma died, I stopped going. I was eleven and most of my cousins were much younger. After grandma died, my dad and I used to have a small dinner around this kitchen table. We didn’t celebrate Christmas much because that’s when mummy died, though I never went short of presents.”
“Did you miss Christmas?”
“I missed my mam. She died just before Christmas because of the snow. We didn’t have the big 'eight thousand' tractor then and the little Ferguson wasn’t man enough to clear the road. There was no helicopter either because of the weather. Mam died in her bed and the baby died with her. She would have been my sister.”
A tear leaked again down Daphnes’ cheek but she quickly stemmed it with a tissue. Briony was glad that Daphne was strong enough to display her feelings. She reached out and gave Daphne a desperately tight hug until it was obvious that Daphne had collected herself. Daphne extricated herself gently and hooked the passage door back to make it easy to carry the food to the dining room. Then Briony heard the clink of cutlery and glass from the dining room. As she started serving the veg into the dishes, Daphne re-appeared with three plates to warm by the Aga.
“Time to take the bird out, I think. Hope it’s cooked properly.”
They both held their breaths as Daphne extricated the goose and placed it on the kitchen table. After pausing reverently, they woke Sion so that he could witness the carving of the bird.
“It smells nice.” Sion observed as Daphne stood poised with carving knife and fork in hand.
“We can carve it here then serve the veggies at the table.” Briony suggested.
“Okay. D’you want to carve or make the gravy?” Daphne asked Briony.
“You have to carve,” Sion interrupted.
Daphne turned curiously.
“Oh, why young man? Why can’t your mummy carve?”
“Carving’s the fathers’ job. It’s tradition; all the films show the father carving the turkey.”
“But I’m not your father” Daphne replied.
“But I want you to be. My other Dad is horrible. Mummy can divorce him like the other kids in school.”
Daphne was at something of a loss for words for she was afraid that saying anything could create a problem. She glanced anxiously towards Briony whilst her eyes pleaded for help. The problem was that Briony felt herself in the same predicament. She didn’t want to close any doors and yet she didn’t want to pre-empt the situation by appearing too eager or too predatory. Both girls realised what the problem was and each recognised the others’ dilemma, consequently they fell into hysterics. Naturally, the laughter went straight over Sions’ head but it served to break the tension. Eventually, they recovered their composure and somehow, though neither of them would later remember how, they found themselves in each others’ arms. Sion looked on bemused. Fortunately the embrace resembled a normal, tactile, female friendship bond as much as it did a meeting of sexual attractions. Then the pair realised that Sion was watching. Fortunately their lips had just brushed, kissed briefly and then parted. When they separated, Daphne started carving the goose while Briony made gravy from the juices in the cooking tray and the water from the vegetables. Sion had noted that Daphne had chosen to carve and drawn his own conclusions.
“Are you going to be my dad?”
Daphne paused with the carving knife in her hand as she searched for a suitable answer. She failed to find one and sighed an apology.
“I don’t know Sion. That would be for your mummy to decide and there are a lot of hurdles to clear before we could consider it. You mentioned divorce just now; well divorce is a very painful and complicated step. I’d rather you didn’t talk about divorce, it upsets your mummy.”
Sion turned to Briony.
“Does it mummy?”
“Yes darling. It does and everything has to go through the courts. Nobody wants their family lives dragged through the courts and the newspapers. Now, I’d rather you didn’t ask about it anymore.”
Sion fell silent and watched the goose being carved. Daphne smiled at him then asked.
“D’you want a drum stick?”
“What’s that?”
“It’s this,” Daphne stuck the carving fork into the goose’s severed leg and held it for Sions’ inspection.
“Can I try a bit first?”
“By all means.” She cut a neat slice off and placed it on Sions’ plate.
He tasted it and grinned.
“Mmm. It’s nice.”
“Good. Now can you take that sauce through to the dining room and come back for the vegetables?”
Keen to be helpful, Sion did as asked. When he returned. The meat was neatly parcelled out and the adults were preparing to carry the serving bowls. Daphne handed the carrots to Sion while she and Briony carried the rest. Sion stood gaping at the table then grinned as he was asked to take his seat. After Briony portioned out his food, he was about to tuck in but his mother censured him.
“Prayers first, and I have to get your sister. Help Daphne with the crib please.”
Once Ellairy was laid down beside Briony, they finally settled to the table. Briony said prayers and Sion wondered why.
“I’ll explain one day darling, but not now,” Daphne replied softly.
Briony sensed the bitterness in Daphnes’ demeanour and concluded that Daphne had issues with faith, however, Christmas dinner was not the place to discuss them. Once again, the hidden agenda passed over Sions’ head and he simply waited while Briony concluded the prayer. The meal was mostly taken up with Angel, the foal and Sions’ prospective ownership. By the time pudding was finished, all three were tired. They retired to the drawing room where Sion curled up on an arm-chair while Briony and Daphne fell asleep in each others’ embrace. None of them woke until Ellairy demanded her afternoon feed.
While Briony fed her daughter, Sion bullied Daphne into visiting the foal again. As they entered the loosebox, Daphne asked Sion.
“What are you going to name her?”
“Why? Can I?”
“She’s your foal and most foals have names.”
“I don’t know. What sorts of names do horses have? Those names on television seem stupid to me, naming a horse after a window company or a bank is daft.”
Daphne struggled to hold a snort of mirth.
“Darling, those are sponsored names. They’re not the names the owners use; those are television names like actors and film stars use different names. Your foal was born on Christmas day so why not name her something Christmassy?”
Sion furrowed his brow as he tested several names in his mind. Finally he grinned...
There’s a girl in my class named Gabriella, she’s nice.” “How about Gabriella? Gabby for short.
“You mean after the Archangel who announced Jesus?”
Sion nodded and the deal was done.
“Gabriella it is then.” Daphne confirmed. “Born of an Angel, that’s a nice story to tell when people ask.”
Sion reached out and gave the foal one last affectionate hug then squealed when Angel gave his hair an inquisitive lick. Daphne chuckled then smiled.
‘The bond is made,’ she concluded. ‘It wasn’t every day that a foal let a stranger hug it and it wasn’t every day that the mare let a stranger near her newborn foal. Sion was one lucky, lucky kid.' With the visit concluded, Daphne opened the loosebox door into the barn proper. This allowed Mare and foal access to the larger barn where they could move around freely until the weather improved. Sion watched his foal galloping easily alongside her mother and he envied the little creature.
“Look she can run already.”
“Yes, horses are quick to learn. Come on; let’s see what’s for tea.”
“I’m still full after Christmas Dinner,” Sion protested feebly.
As they returned across the yard, Daphne decided to give the kid a bit of fun and work off some of the Christmas Dinner. She fell back a couple of yards then flicked a snowball at Sions’ head. It splattered harmlessly against Sions’ shoulder but it prompted Sion to retaliate. In seconds, it was a full blown snow-ball fight with Sion pursuing Daphne around the front of the house where Briony spotted the pair shrieking with laughter as they pelted each other on the front lawn. Briony could not resist joining in and promptly stepped out through the front door to support her son against Daphne. Within minutes Daphne was capitulating and begging for quarter as she fell over in the snow. Immediately, Sion pounced on her and pushed a snowball down her blouse.
Daphne let go a girly squeal and ‘surrendered’ whereupon Sion declared himself the victor. Briony was a little bemused by the scenario but pleased that Daphne had shown the understanding to recognise Sions’ needs.
For once, Sion had been allowed to win at something; a situation that his real father had always denied him. Sion and Daphne sat squealing with laughter for a few more seconds before Daphne declared she was getting cold and needed to change. The trio retreated inside and Briony served up some trifle with mince pies while Daphne retreated to her bedroom to change. She returned wearing a beautiful frock with a bolero jacket and a beautiful light brown wig. She was almost unrecognisable from the Daphne in jeans and jumper who had retreated upstairs earlier. Briony stared at her with envy.
“My God girl! You really do scrub up well, don’t you?”
Even Sion stared in disbelief at the elegant lady who now joined them at table.
The Ram 10
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Here is chapter 10 of The Ram
The Welsh Mountain Ram 10
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave. Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby) Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
The Ram 10.
As soon as tea was eaten, Daphne changed her elegant clothes for the farmyard ritual and Sion followed her eagerly as she stepped out to feed the animals. Briony cleared the dishes and felt a warm feeling as she glanced out through the back door to see her son happily swinging a bucket of protein nuts for the ram. He emerged empty handed and disappeared into the barn obviously to check on the foal again. Eventually the pair emerged with Sion smiling and bouncing in front of Daphne as they crossed the yard. Briony had rarely seen her son so deliriously happy. She turned to make hot drinks as they thumped their boots on the step to free the muddy snow. Then to Brionys’ joy, Daphne produced a compendium of board games and for a couple of hours the trio chased each others’ counters and markers around various different boards with Sion savouring the newfound delights of family interaction. Once again Briony found herself enjoying some rare moments of delight as her son shrieked with delight at some lucky throw of the dice or sigh of despair at the opposite. Several times Daphne glanced up to see Briony just beaming contentedly as she watched her son eagerly counting his markers up or down the squares. As the evening drew on, little eyelids began to droop and eventually, Sion fell asleep. Daphne carried the boy up to bed while Briony followed with Ellairy at her breast. After the children were abed, Sion woke up and asked Daphne if she would read a story.
“What sort of story?”
“Any story, you choose one.” Sion replied.
Daphne was at a bit of a loss. Then she had a brainwave.
“Wait here, I know of the perfect tale.”
Briony sat on the bed while Daphne disappeared only to return later with the story of ‘Black Beauty.’
Briony grinned as she spotted the title. Then felt a secret pang of guilt. She had rarely read to the boy and never a bedtime story. She wondered where Sion had got the idea. Then she felt a further pang of guilt; Daphne could not have chosen a more appropriate book. She decided to stay and lie with Sion in her arms as Daphne settled on the other end of the bed. The stay was not long. Sion was asleep before Daphne had finished the first chapter. Both adults crept silently from the room to return to the drawing room.
Briony settled on the large sofa and secretly hoped that Daphne would join her but Daphne seemed somewhat restless. After finishing their sherries, Briony finally tackled her.
“”What’s wrong? You’re like a cat on a hot tin roof.”
“I want to change into something nicer. These jeans and shirt don’t seem right for Christmas night.”
Briony became slightly exasperated.
“Well go on then silly! D’you want me to come and help you choose!”
Daphnes’ brow furrowed uncertainly.
“I’ve never had that before. Is that what real girls do?”
“If they trust each other and are good friends, yes, they do it all the time.”
Daphne hesitated momentarily then asked.
“Can I trust you?”
Briony squealed her protest.
“You cheeky thing! It should be me asking if I can trust you! You’re the one with the dick!”
Daphne protested.
“No! Not like that, I mean ... Promise you won’t laugh when I’m trying stuff on. I want to try on the outfit I bought for Christmas.”
Briony immediately felt empathy. ‘What girl couldn’t resist checking out her new outfits?’
“Oh get on with you girl. Come on, let’s see what you bought!”
They scampered along the passage like two naughty schoolgirls and were soon trying on outfits together. Briony had a good chance to check out Daphnes’ boobs and she was quite amazed at the development. She even got to check them out as she helped Daphne adjust the straps and get the bra to sit right. Daphne realised that there had been no need for Briony to help her spoon the ripe orbs into the C cups but it felt nice and certainly broke any ice. Briony stood in front of Daphne as she stood in bra and knickers.
“D’you know. The only thing you’re missing is a really slender waist. You’ve got girly hips and those legs are to die for. I could get quite jealous.”
“Thanks Briony, D’you think this dress or that one.”
“Go for the black. I want to see how you scrub up for parties. I’ve seen you do elegant and that’s good, now I want to see clubby!”
Daphne beamed at the compliment. ‘It was exactly the sort of remark she wanted to hear.’
She stepped into the dress and shimmied it up her body in most revealing and feminine motion. Brionys’ eyes widened with delight.
“My God girl! If you move like that on the dance-floor, you’ll get raped!”
“Call me ‘snake-hips’ baby. This chick grooves when the beat takes over.”
“Well not tonight gurrl! The babes are sleeping.” Briony chuckled.
“It’s too late anyway tonight babe, besides, it’ll take me an hour to put the slap on.”
“Is this what you wear when you’re out clubbing?” Briony asked as Daphne settled to the dressing table.
“Yep,” Daphne flung over her shoulder as she cleaned her face with wet-wipes then selected her foundation and applied it with practiced ease.
Briony watched fascinated as the new face emerged until Daphne stood up for inspection.
“Bloody hell girl. You’re one deadly man-trap. If I were a bloke, I could really fancy you.”
Daphne grinned, selected her jewellery and slipped into a pair of ridiculously high heels to stand poised and perfect before Briony. Briony wagged her head disbelievingly then watched as Daphne minced with perfect poise along the passage then down stairs to the drawing room. As she followed Daphne into the drawing room she found Daphne standing in the bay window looking out on to the floodlit snow. She looked completely at ease with her hands hanging loose at her sides while standing hips tilted. It was obvious the Briony that Daphne was an old hand at heels.
“You’ve got heels down to a‘t’ girl!” Briony observed.
Daphne turned and smiled as she responded with the pun.
“Well I should love, I am a Tee Girl!”
Briony grinned and settled on the sofa as she took the channel selector and picked a programme. Daphne went to a cabinet and opened it to reveal the drinks. Briony was pleased to see that the selection also included tea and coffee as well as an abundance of soft drinks. Daphne turned guiltily.
"I lied a bit earlier. I forgot, there’s a bottle of sherry here. What would you prefer?”
“Mmmm. I’d prefer cocoa.”
“Oh, that’s in the kitchen, I’ll go and get it. Cocoa it is for you then. I’ll have coffee. Shall I light the fire?”
“Oooh yes please, that would be romantic.”
Daphne hesitated nervously.
“Why did you say romantic? I’ — I’m not trying to seduce you.”
Then she bolted into the kitchen like a startled rabbit to make the cocoa.
Briony pouted in disappointment for secretly, she would have loved Daphne to have seduced her. She wondered what it would be like to be seduced by a girly-boy with a real dick.
‘At lease he’ll probably be gentle,’ she thought.
She stood to look at the snow on the lawn where they had fought the snowball fight and noticed that the footprints showed green in the floodlights. It was beginning to thaw and she felt a twinge of disappointment at the thought of leaving in the morning. When Daphne returned with a trolley loaded with the makings and some mince pies Briony commented on the thaw. Daphne went back to study the lawn.
“You’re right, it is thawing. If it carries on like this, we should be able to clear the road to Machynlleth tomorrow. What we can do is divide the work. I’ll use the eight-thousand to clear the snow and you can follow in my Land-rover. Your own car’s going nowhere until the roads are completely clear and it’s safe to tow you down the mountain road with your front end hanging from the back hoe arm. Are you able to drive a Land-rover?”
Briony nodded thoughtfully.
“It’s pretty much like a car isn’t it? Are four wheel drives’ difficult?”
“No just leave it in four-by-four until were clear of the snow lower down towards Machynlleth. Then I’ll park the tractor and I’ll drive you into town. Warn your sister to expect us once were clear of the snow and any possible complications.”
Briony nodded and sat back on the sofa with her cocoa and mince pie. Daphne bent down to light the fire and once again, Briony found herself admiring Daphnes’ shapely arse.
“You look good in that dress you know.”
“Why thank you kind lady. I hope you’re not trying to seduce me.”
Briony smiled outwardly but sighed inwardly for in truth she realised she had just made a pass at Daphne. It seemed because Daphne was dressed in a short mini-frock, she appeared more vulnerable than threatening. Daphne stood up, poured her coffee then sat in the arm-chair beside the fire and sideways on to Briony. This emphasized Daphnes’ long shapely legs and Briony wondered if it had been a deliberate ploy. She was staring at Daphnes’ legs when Daphne asked somewhat nervously.
“What! What’re you looking at?”
“Your legs girl! They’re to die for! My God I’m going to have to keep an eye on you in the clubs. If you go into a straight club, they’ll be lining up to rape you!”
Daphne smiled enigmatically.
“I’ve been in straight clubs plenty of times and you’re right they do ‘line up’ as you put it. That’s why I tend to avoid them now, unless we’re in a gang. Then the girls love it cos the ‘knuckle rash’ is held at bay. We ignore the leering drooling lummoxes and that enables the girls to also ignore them and thus avoid them as they fool about with us on the floor. Believe me Briony I’m pretty street wise about clubbing.”
“I can’t wait to go with you. It must be a scream.”
Daphne smiled and nodded.
“Well, yes, we do rather go OTT but we’re you know, a pretty mixed lot, or should I say ‘mixed up lot’?”
“Sounds like crazy fun. I envy you.”
“Well, I get out when I can but the farm is a tie, especially in this weather. If it’s snowing on the New Year, I’ll have to cancel everything.
“Didn’t you say to that Rachel that you’re going sometime in early January.”
“New years’ eve is fixed. I’m going to Manchester. First there’s a party at Rachels’ friends’ apartment on Sackman Street, then after midnight, we’re off out clubbing. There’s a few days grace for me but Rach’ is going down to Brum. I might hang around in Manchester or come home, it’s pretty much up in the air. Rachel’s coming here the next weekend as you already know.”
Briony fell silent. Since getting married and having children she hadn’t been once to a club venue on New-years’ eve. It had always been around to Arfons’ family where his parents and brothers just ended up getting drunk and then arguing while Briony kept a diplomatic silence. Briony would have loved to have just gone out for a wild, worry free, nights’ dancing and clubbing. She bit her lip thoughtfully.
“Would there be room for one more at this gig?”
Daphne smiled and nodded gently.
“You’d be more than welcome, the more Gee girls the better.”
“Gee girls ... what are Gee girls?”
“Gee-girls are Genetic girls; that is ordinary girls or transsexual girls, they’re all genuine girls between the ears. I’ve no idea how many will be there but Rachels’ wife will certainly be there for one, so you won’t be sticking out like a sore thumb or something. What about Sion and Ellairy?”
Briony sighed. ‘If the thing came off, she could ask her sister in Machynlleth to baby sit for a couple of days.’
“Maybe I could leave them with my sister. She knows I deserve a break, she knows about Arfon because she’s seen the bruises on me and Sion.”
“Well, if she takes them then you can come by all means. Best you grab some sleep while you can then. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day at least until we can clear the road below Cledwyns’ farm. Usually it’s pretty clear after that, well; clear enough for the land rover, I’ll park the eight thousand in Cledwyns’ farm yard. He can use it to feed his sheep while we push through to Machynlleth.”
Briony finished her cocoa and reluctantly took Daphnes’ advice. Daphne put the guard up on the fire to secure it and followed her up the stairs. At her bedroom door, Briony paused and turned to Daphne just as she was passing. It was Brionys’ last chance to somehow entice her knight in shining armour into her bed.
“Don’t I get a good-night kiss from my white knight then?” Briony whispered so as not to disturb her children.
“It’s only a kiss then dear maid. I’ve a long day tomorrow. The upper section of the road over the second Bwlch is always the worst bit and the road is not well marked. Every time we put up marker posts, the wild ponies knock them down as they used them for scratching posts.”
Daphne leaned into Brionys extended arms meaning to give her a peck on the cheek but Briony outmanoeuvred her and wrapped her hands around Daphnes’ neck to pull her into a clinch. For a moment, she felt Daphne flinch then tense before finally relaxing and savouring Brionys’ lips.
“Mmmph!” What was that about?” Gasped a started Daphne as she finally slipped Brionys’ embrace.
“That’s a thank you for saving us and being so nice.”
Daphne was at a loss for words for the passion in Brionys’ kiss had caught her unawares. She hesitated for a moment then slipped into the master bedroom. Briony stared wistfully at the closing door then sighed again and slipped into her own room. In moments, she was sliding into bed beside her young son Sion. The boy stirred but did not waken. Within minutes Briony was fast asleep in the huge king-sized bed.
The Ram 11
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Here's chapter 11 of The Ram.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 11
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave. Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby) Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
Briony awoke to find her bed empty and the low winter sun painfully bright as it reflected of the melting snow. For a moment she panicked then relaxed as she heard a knock on the door and Ellairy’s familiar cry.
“Come in!” She answered.
The bedroom door opened and Dave appeared with Ellairy in his arms.
“She wants feeding Bri’ sadly I can’t give her what she wants. I’ve changed her and given Sion his breakfast. Are you ready to get up?”
“Yes. What time is it?”
“Half nine.”
“Oh my God! She’s late for her feed.”
“Well, Sion came into my bedroom about an hour ago asking to go and see Gabby the foal. I took him down, gave him some breakfast and we went to see the foal. He’s still with Angel and Gabby. I was coming back upstairs when I heard Ellairy whimpering so I sneaked in on you. You were fast asleep so I collected her and took her downstairs to change her.”
He gently passed the newly changed baby to Briony and turned to leave but Briony called him back.
“There’s no need to leave. I’m only going to feed her. Lets chat a while.”
“Won’t you want your breakfast?”
“Later darling. Just sit on the bed and chat.”
“Don’t you mind, you know, showing your breasts.”
Briony giggled as the idea tickled her.
“Well I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Dave snorted as he realised the fatuousness of his concern.
“Sorry, yes you’re right.” He observed as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“So what d’you want to chat about?”
“How long will it take to get to Machynlleth?”
“It’ll be about four or five hours. I’ve just spoken to Cledwyn on the CB radios. He says the road is clear below Dan-y-Nant Hill. Blodwen was down there on her horse this morning. She’s out clearing their bit of road as we speak. I’ll have to get cracking on my bit.”
He glanced enviously as Briony attached Ellairy to her breast. Briony smiled as she recognised Daves’ emotion so she spoke softly as she noted his feelings.
“You wish you could do this, don’t you?”
Dave nodded as he swallowed the lump in his throat then added.
“I wish I could conceive and carry a baby. It must be the most rewarding and fulfilling thing on earth.”
“And the most painful.” Briony added.
Dave nodded slowly and resignedly.
“Yeah, but ... the pleasure must surmount the memory of the pain. I mean, when you look at your son growing up and stuff. It must fill your heart!”
Briony smiled and tried to settle back into the pillows. They were too low and her hands were occupied holding Ellairy. Dave recognised the problem and promptly eased Briony upright then fluffed up the pillows so that she could sit up. Her other breast flopped out of the nightie that Daphne had lent her but strangely she felt no threat. She left it exposed as Dave adjusted the duvet then resumed sitting on the side of the bed.
“Thanks darling. Arfon has never once done anything like that. You’re sweet. Daphne’s still there isn’t she, still inside your head.”
Dave smiled.
“She’s always there. She watches over me like my mam and nan used to.”
“Oh that’s sweet, that’s really lovely.”
Briony reached out to squeeze his arm but Dave eased it away defensively. He felt he might have revealed too much. He cautioned her.
“Don’t ever tell anybody that. They’ll say I’m schizoid or something.”
Briony wagged her head.
“No Dave. Daphne is not some figment of your imagination. I’ve met Daphne; I’ve spent a whole Christmas with her. She’s a wonderful girl and she will make me a wonderful friend; I want her to be my friend.”
She reached out again and took his hand, this time Dave let it stay. He turned to meet her smile with a rueful look as he sighed.
“You’re nice Briony. I wish other women were as understanding as you.”
“You’re nice to, I want to kiss you. Come here.”
She patted the bed beside her. Dave slid across hesitantly and extended his lips like a small boy receiving a kiss from some ancient relative. Briony growled affectionately.
“Not like that silly! I want a proper kiss, an embrace with your arms around us.”
Dave rearranged himself so that he was kneeling on the bed beside her and his weight caused the mattress to sag so that Briony slid and tilted into his arms. Ellairy made a little whimper and Briony tried to detach her but Dave reached around her and held the infant to her.
“You’re her mum. She’s every right to carry on feeding.”
With this he readjusted his embrace and gently pulled her face to his. Their lips met and stayed met for several minutes as Brionys’ heart started to race. Eventually, Briony had to transfer Briony to her other breast but Dave seemed to sense it and he released her momentarily. While Briony was making her baby comfortable, Dave repositioned himself to resume the embrace. She snuggled her back up to his unmanly chest and savoured the softness that seemed to reflect every aspect of Daves’ character. He wrapped his arms around her and Briony had never felt so wanted, so valued, so happy. Dave had never felt so accepted and so relieved. To have a girl quite content to seemingly accept his feminised chest had been his subconscious quest since he came to terms with his transgenderism. They lay together on Brionys’ guest bed until Ellairy had finished.
As Briony felt herself going dry she turned to Dave.
“Do you have to clear the road today?”
Dave sensed the implication and squeezed Brionys’ shoulders as he ‘got the message’
“I’m afraid it’s in the councils’ contract. I must make every reasonable and safe endeavour to maintain a free, safe route across the mountains. It affects the emergency services access. Besides it’s for our mutual benefits and I can’t let my neighbours down. I’d love for you to stay for the rest of our lives but the job has to be done.”
Briony flushed with a warm feeling at these words and she raised her lips upwards to offer a kiss.
“Thanks, that’s a lovely thought. You’re a lovely guy. I wish all men were like you.”
Dave sighed thoughtfully.
“What, even with Daphne always lurking.”
“Especially with Daphne lurking; I can see her and me becoming great friends. Especially with her shopping skills; those clothes she bought for Christmas were really nice. Besides, it’s obvious that Daphne has got you really house-trained.”
Briony was startled for a moment as she felt Dave’s chest begin to heave with laughter. Then he burst into sound and Daphne thought it the sweetest music to her ears. Usually, mens’ laughter tended to grate on her ears, often because the source of the amusement was offensive to women but this laughter sounded clear and almost sweet; soft and modulated.
‘Somewhere between tenor and alto; almost neutral in pitch just as Dave/Daphne seemed neutral in gender orientation as he/she flipped either side of the conventional divide.’
Briony found this refreshing and in some way strangely re-assuring. It was as though she would always have Daphne to call upon for support when she found herself at odds with Dave.
‘At odds with Dave!’ She pulled up sharply. ‘Had she already concluded her answer would be yes if he were to ever pop the question?’ Then she concluded with satisfaction that it would. She had only known him a couple of days, but Dave was the one. That much her heart and her head both knew for certain.
As Ellairys’ last attempt to suckle sent a twinge of pleasure-pain through her empty nipple, Briony was brought back from her thoughts to reality. She twitched reluctantly for she did not want to destroy the moment.
“I suppose I’d better get up if you’re going to plough the snow.”
Dave sighed as well for he had also been savouring the pleasure of simply cuddling. He gently eased Briony forward and inched himself from behind her, then he held out his hands and took Ellairy off Briony as she tucked in her boobs and made herself ‘respectable’.
It was only just in time for at that moment Sion arrived ready to enjoy the rest of the day.
“Can we have another snow-ball fight?”
Briony wagged her head.
“Uuhhm, I’m afraid there won’t be time darling. Dave has to clear the road with the big tractor while we follow on in his Landrover. We’ll be in your aunties’ tonight.”
Brionys’ heart thudded as she saw Sion’s tears begin to leak. It was obvious that her son was desperately trying to hide his feelings. Her stomach sagged as a lead weight settled in her stomach as Sion turned hopefully towards Dave. Dave wagged his head and pulled a wry expression as he tried to explain.
“Your mum has to get to her sisters and organise the repair of her car. Then she’ll have to organise a tow to Machynlleth and get the car repaired. Try not to be disappointed. You’ll be back here when you pick up the car, and you can visit your foal in the holidays. It’s not that far to Machynlleth, just narrow and winding. In the summer you can visit here any time provided you phone and let me know. I’m often out.”
Sions’ lower lip trembled as he expressed his wishes.
“I’d like to live with you here, If you married my mum I could live here ... and look after Gabby.”
Briony gasped at Sions’ forthright statement but secretly she knew in her heart, that was exactly what she would have wanted.
She wondered if Dave was being so reticent because he suspected she might be a ‘gold digger’ or she might later try to black-mail him with some future divorce over his transgenderism and thereby win a slice of his estate. She wondered how she could convince him otherwise.
‘Besides,’ she reflected bitterly, ‘she was already married to that brute Arfon! And if he contested the divorce there was no knowing what sort of complications might be thrown up.’
She excused herself and stepped into the bathroom while Dave changed Ellairy again. Sion watched and grinned.
“Dad never changes her. You’re good, you’re faster than mum even.”
Dave shrugged and smiled.
“Have you ever changed her?”
“Heck no!” Sion squealed. “She stinks when she’s done a poo!”
“Oh well I’m used to barnyard smells. Most of the animal poo stinks worse than Ellairys’. That’s one thing you’ll find if you ever have to muck out Gabby. This is nothing.”
As he was re-buttoning Ellairys’ baby-grow Briony emerged and smiled.
“There was no need. I would have done that.”
“Job’s done now. She’s clean unless you want to bath her.”
Briony continued smiling.
“You like kids don’t you. Which one loves them the most, you or Daphne?”
Dave furrowed his brow and replied.
“D’you really need to ask?”
Briony grinned and replied. “Daphne.”
Dave grinned back and nodded before declaring.
“Well, you’d best get a good breakfast inside you and take some extra blankets. Just in case anything untoward happens. I can’t
see it what with it thawing this quickly but better safe than sorry.”
“Can I ride up on the eight-thousand with you Dave?” Sion begged.
Dave glanced at Briony who smiled and asked.
“The cab is heated isn’t it?”
Dave nodded and Briony agreed. Sion was soon back to his usual self and they started preparing for the task ahead, firstly by making sure everybody had a good hot lunch then checking everybody had got everything. This basically devolved to Briony because Dave was unfamiliar with who owned what. Instead he started the eight-thousand tractor and brought it right to the utility-room door then he filled the Landrover up and left it ticking over to get properly warm for Briony and Ellairy.
By noon they were on the road with Briony following close behind Daves’ tractor while Sion sat in the back-hoe bucket seat facing backwards where he could see his mother and she could see the ear-splitting grin on his face.
Brionys’ heart remained filled with delight as she watched him chattering to Dave while he manoeuvred the huge tractor with the front bucket to make short work of the evanescent drifts. By three o’clock, ahead of schedule, he was down at Cledwyns’ farm. Blodwen met him at the gate, gave him a brief peck and collected the tractor so that she and her dad could use it’s wonderful all-weather capability to deliver feed to both his own flock and Daves’ that were flocking together on lower moors where the grass was slightly greener and they shared grazing rights. More importantly the weather was much milder.
When Briony saw Blodwen give Dave a hug and a kiss she couldn’t help but feel a spike of jealousy pierce her heart. Then she remembered Dave saying something about Blodwen not being interested in farming and she decided to ask Dave a bit more about ‘the-girl-next-door’.
As Dave and Sion entered the Land-rover, Briony was watching the great yellow tractor that appeared to be simply smashing its’ way through drift after drift.
‘Whatever else Blodwen did, she certainly knew how to handle the tractor.’ Briony concluded.
Her reflections were interrupted by Dave.
“If you want, I’ll drive. Blodwens’ tractor is a smaller machine and the bucket doesn’t clear such a wide path.”
Briony shifted over, thankful to leave the controls to Dave. She’d had a few slippery moments behind the big tractor and she could see that the path cleared by Blodwen reflected the size of their tractor and bucket. It was narrower with more pronounced banks that left little room for manoeuvre. Besides, Dave knew the road.
As Dave picked his way sometimes avoiding the banks and sometimes cutting through them to widen the path, Briony realised Dave was using the Landrover like a second snow-plough. She decided to probe a little about Blodwen.
“How long have you known that girl Blodwen?”
“All my life, we went all through school together, shared the school run for fourteen years. We’re the same age then she went to college, studied architecture and practices in Birmingham. She’s only home for Christmas. As Cledwyn gets older she’s happy for me to run their farm while she gets on with her own life.”
Briony felt a little thrill of anticipation tingle through her core.
“She gets on with her own life?”
“Yeah, she doesn’t much like farming. She was always the maths and science girl ... good artist too. That’s why she became an architect. That painting of my dad in the Kitchen was done by Blodwen, I’ll always treasure it.”
“Where you ever close; you know ...?”
Dave smiled.
“When we were youngsters, we played together all the time. There’s nothing much I don’t know about Blodwen and nothing much she doesn’t know about me.” We used to ride our ponies all over these mountains. Wonderful times we had, right up until Blod’ went to college.”
Briony felt less sure. The way Dave spoke, there was obviously affection there but seemingly never ever a relationship. She hesitated then asked.
“Does Blodwen know about Daphne?”
Dave smiled and pulled the car over.
“There was never any relationship between us and truly there never will be. Blod is gay and yes, she does know about Daphne but only since she left college.”
Briony felt a surge of relief and slumped back into the seat. Dave sensed her relaxation and the smile dropped slightly.
“I know what you’re feeling. Your relieved there seems to be opposition, no obstacles ... except of course your own. It wasn’t always like that, I was very fond of Blod. You can see she’s a very attractive girl and all the boys in school envied me for having her all to myself every day on the school bus then every weekend. She used to tell her circle of female friends all about our riding weekends and that got back to the boys. That’s when they began to think I was gay because I was slightly built and not very forceful with the girls. I made a play for Blod in our early teens and I could never get near her. Then, finally, she confessed to me when she was fifteen. She found out from the other girls that I could keep a secret. And she knew that I never spoke of our first, failed fumblings. The boys told the girls they thought I was gay because I hadn’t even got to first base. When the girls asked the boys why they thought I was a poofter they said because I never spoke of having it away with her. Yet when the other boys tried it on with Blod she always used to say she was going out with me. She was beginning to realise she was lesbian and she was using me to hide her sexuality.. I never did push it and she so got to trust me, she told me she was gay and she never told her mum and dad.
Both my dad and her parents always thought we were destined to marry. Then she went to college, and I stayed behind to help run our farm. Cledwyn still thought his daughter and I would marry and out farms would be combined to make a pretty big and efficient unit. Then my dad died when I was nineteen and I was plunged in at the deep end. Cledwyn and the accountants helped me out and Blodwen always came over in the college holidays. We went out several times but I already knew we were never going further. She settled in Birmingham and I didn’t see her for a couple of years.
By that time the farm was doing well and Cledwyns’ labourer was more than prepared to stand in for me when Daphne went to the gay village ... first in Manchester, Canal Street then later, in Birmingham, Hurst street.
That’s when Blodwen met Daphne."
"Oooh go on," Briony pressed eagerly.
"Well; Daphne was dressed to the nines, really dolled up and having a riot of a good time with her new tranny friends when she spotted Blodwen with a friend, a girlfriend. Blodwen hadn’t got a clue who Daphne was and by now Daphne was well and truly ‘out’ in Birmingham and Manchester. My friends, my gang were fooling about on and off the dance-floor being the lives and souls of the club when Blodwen came in with her equally pretty girlfriend They're both ‘lipstick-lesbians’. She won’t mind me saying that, cos’ that’s how she describes herself.”
“Go on,” Briony pressed Dave.
“Well when I spotted her I was actually fooling about on the stage and Miss Vicky the resident drag queen let me borrow her microphone. I called across the club on the mike and of course all my friends stopped to look as they recognised my voice.
“Hi Blod!” I called. 'Why haven’t you brought your horse Flossie? She’s missing you!'
'You could have flown a Boeing into her mouth she gaped so wide!'
“How do you know Flossie?” She gasped.
“ ‘My horse at that time was Raven, he and I have known Flossie for years.’ I replied.
Well Blodwen just stared at me for what seemed like minutes as more of her lesbian friends asked how I knew about her. She came right up to the front of the stage and I introduced her to the whole club. ‘Ladies and gentlemen and others, I would like to introduce my oldest and dearest friend Blodwen. She doesn’t know me as the crackpot crazy tranny girl Daphne, she knows me better as her old school friend and classmate Dave!!! We were next door neighbours as children and now I think she recognises me.”
Poor Blodwen just slumped into a convenient arm-chair and stared at me as her friend demanded to know what was going on.”
“It is you! It’s Dave!”
“The very same Blod, and you never, never knew!”
“My God girl, you look stunning! Why did you never say?”
“What could I say?” Dave continued. “I explained about Daphne and how terrified she was of ever being discovered. Then Dad died suddenly and whilst I was suddenly encumbered with all the running of the farm, Daphne could spread her wings and fly. ‘So here’s Daphne Blod, all grown up, free as a bird and flown all the way to Birmingham.’
Since then, we’ve never looked back. I think Blod thinks more of Daphne than she ever thought of Dave, I knew this much, when Daphne goes to Birmingham, Blod makes every effort to meet her. We are very good friends but that’s it. Just friends; though we love each other dearly as friends.”
Having finished the explanation Dave resumed picking his way down the road and steadily his speed improved as the snow receded. They reached Machynlleth at six o’clock.
The Ram 12
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Here is chapter 12 of The Ram Happy reading,
The Welsh Mountain Ram 12.
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby) Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
Elspeth Brionys’ sister
As the Landrover picked its way through the darkened streets of Machynlleth, the rain started to drive against the wind-screen. In the street lights Briony picked out the salient points until she recognised her sisters’ house.
“This is it, the house with the white door.” Number fourteen.”
Dave pulled over, parallel-parked into a convenient slot and Briony jumped down as she told Sion to wait. Sion and the three dogs leant forward over Daves’ shoulder and they all watched Briony skipping around the puddles as she picked her way up the little garden path. She stood by the door with one of Daphnes’ coats over her head until Elsbeth answered. They chatted briefly then turned and waved ‘come in’ to Dave. Sion leapt out with the sheepdogs whilst Dave collected the sleeping Ellairy.
After introductions Dave was invited in still holding Ellairy in his arms. They went through to the back room and sat down as Elspeth prepared some tea and related events.
“Arfon’s been here looking for you. He came at eleven this morning and left about three-ish.”
Dave watched Sion stiffen fearfully as Brionys’ smile faded.
“You didn’t say where I was did you?”
“I’m not stupid sis,” Elsbeth replied as she turned to explain to Dave. “The man’s a pig. He beats her.”
Dave nodded diplomatically as he replied.
“Yes, Briony did say.”
Elsbeth poured the tea as she continued.
“I told him you weren’t here and you hadn’t called. Let him stew, I say.”
“He can stew all he wants,” Briony added, “I’m leaving him. He’s been screwing that bitch Nora who works behind the bar at The Bull in Trefeglwys.”
Dave stayed silent. He knew Nora, she was very pretty and she wasn’t a bad kid. She probably didn’t know that this Arfon guy was married. It often worked that way. He sipped his tea and simply listened as Briony related chapter and verse, the circumstances surrounding Arfons’ infidelity and betrayal. The more he heard the more he felt he’d better warn Nora next time he stopped over in The Bull. Dave regularly overnighted there between Manchester and home if he was tired and didn’t feel like facing the winding mountain road.
Eventually, Briony ran out of anecdotes and Elsbeth turned to Dave.
“Have you eaten?”
“We had sandwiches on the way.” Dave replied.
“Well I can order a carryout. What d’you fancy?”
Dave shrugged. “Anything’ll do. That Thai place down Heol Pen’Rallt is pretty good.”
Elsbeth nodded.
“Of course, you’ll know the town as well as me.”
“Yep, I come to market this way about once every two months and I shop this way about once a month. Let this meal be on me.
I’ll go and fetch it.”
Both sisters’ families argued about what to have and eventually Dave had to go to the Chinese and the Thai restaurants to please everybody. Sion elected to go with him, thereby establishing his prior rights to ‘Dave adventures’ with his cousins. Dave sensed the natural filial rivalries and invited Elsbeths’ boys to come as well. Finally Elsbeths’ second daughter attached herself to the party and Dave found himself with three boys and a girl accompanying him down to the restaurants. In the land-rover the children chattered away and bombarded Dave with questions. He felt tense as he wondered if Sion might inadvertently reveal Daphne but the boy didn’t and Dave found himself liking the kid even more for that. He splashed out on the food and the children chattered away twenty to the dozen as they returned.
The two sisters had laid the table when they got back to the house and a veritable feast ensued. Over the meal Elsbeth asked Dave about returning home.
“Uuhhm, not tonight girls. If it’s raining down here, it’ll be snowing up there. I’ll check with Cledwyn first.”
He dialled Cledwyns’ home number and Blodwen answered.
“Yes. It is, is it? Okay, I’ll stay here tonight and try in the morning. Meet me by Nant Teg switchback I’ve got the radio with me, so you can use your dads’ if we need to talk. D’you need any supplies, while I’m in town tomorrow?”
Elsbeth and Briony listened to Blodwen peel off a short list of items then Dave closed his mobile. They fell to talking about life up on the hills until Dave had to make his excuses. He booked into The White Lion Inn and settled down for the night. He had stayed there many times and the staff knew about him and the three dogs so they made him welcome and put the three dogs in the outhouse. In the morning, while he was filling the shopping lists, Briony phoned him.
“Arfon’s in Town. He’s been around but Elsbeth told him I wasn’t here.”
Dave sighed. He didn’t want to get involved in any domestic issues or worse be accused of something. He thought it best to finish the shopping and get out of town quickly. Elsbeth came on Brionys’ phone and described what Arfon was wearing.
“Watch out for him. Machynlleth’s a small town and lots of people know you.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t. I’m safe.” Dave reassured both sisters. “What about Briony?”
“She’s leaving on the one o’clock train to Newtown and Shrewsbury. She’s staying with my sister in law until she can sort a lawyer. Then she’s coming back here.”
“That'll be expensive. What about the car. Has she done anything about that?”
“No. Arfon doesn’t know about the car so we’ve let it lie. Briony hasn’t gone out in case she bumps into Arfon. You know how small Machynlleth is.”
Dave sat in his Landrover thinking over the logistics. Then a warm thought struck him and it gave him an idea.
“Does this Arfon know about your sister in law?”
“Yes,” Elspeth replied, “he and Briony met them at my wedding.”
“Would he be likely to search further afield, you know, all the way to Shrewsbury.”
There was a thoughtful silence before Elspeth replied.
“Uuuhm, yes he might. He seemed pretty pissed off when he came here.”
“Listen Elspeth, I’ve got an idea, put Briony on.”
“Hello darling, what’s this big idea.”
“Who else knows about your having stayed at Plas Graig?”
“Just Elspeth and Cledwyn and his daughter Bronwen.”
“No, that’s Blodwen love, not Bronwen. Are you sure there’s nobody else who knows.”
“Well Elspethes’ children know but they don’t know your sir-name or where you live.”
“Has Sion mentioned anything?”
“Ah. I don’t know. He’s playing on their computers upstairs.”
“Can you go and check? Ask if they know my sir-name.”
“Why?”
“I was thinking. You could stay up at mine until things are sorted. It’s nearer, and you’re handy for your sister plus the lawyers. My solicitor and accountants are in Machynlleth. Also Sion will be able to attend the Welsh school. He did in Llanidloes didn’t he?”
“Yes. Thanks for this; I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Okay. Now please, impress upon the children how important it is. I don’t think Sion will need much persuading to keep shtum. he seemed terrified of his father every time the name Arfon is mentioned.”
"He is," Briony confirmed then she went on. “Thank you Dave, Thank you, thank you, thank you. I feel so much happier with a man to protect me.”
It was Daves’ turn to let Briony down gently.
“Uuuhm, I’m not much of a man Briony, leastways, not a man who could offer physical protection. I’ve been on hormones for a few years now; you’ve seen my body. I'm physicakky a wimp. I couldn’t put up much resistance if a man got violent. If he found out you where staying with me and came around with violent intentions, I couldn’t do much to stop him. It’s imperative he doesn’t find out. Well until legal proceedings are apace and you can get a court restraining order or something. You’ll have to talk to my solicitor about that.”
“When can I do that?”
“Well the sooner the better obviously. I’ve finished the shopping for me and Blod’ and I’m going to get some fuel. I’ll phone Gareth and see what can be done. Call me when you’ve sorted out the children and make sure they know not to reveal anything.”
Because Dave was one of Gareths’ oldest and valuable clients, they arranged a quiet meeting over lunch in the back lounge of the White Lion Inn. After a convivial chat and a brief phone-call to one of the other partners Gareth told Dave to get Briony over to his office for four o’clock.
“I don’t do divorce and family stuff. Jennifer handles that side; she’ll see Briony at a quarter past four.”
Dave nodded and cautioned Gareth.
“The husband Arfon is in town right now, looking for his wife. Apparently he’s got form for ABH and GBH. Briony’s terrified and I’ve seen the little boys’ fear with my own eyes.”
“Well until he actually commits an offence, there’s nothing to be done. However, I’ll have a word with the Police inspector at the station. He’s my second cousin.”
Dave grinned. ‘Small Welsh towns were like small towns everywhere.’ Dave also knew the inspector well but only through farming affairs at the livestock market. They separated and Dave phoned Briony.
“The lawyer will see you at a quarter past four today. It’s a special favour cos’ I’m one of his best customers. I’ll pick you up now and we can get out of town for a few hours.”
The pick-up went without a hitch and soon Briony, Elspeth, their children and the three dogs were enjoying a day out at the Alternative technology centre.
The curator knew Dave because of Daves’ self contained water turbine arrangement for generating his own and Cledwyns’ electricity on both farms. Sometimes the curator brought a busload high school children to see the turbine wheels that seemingly gave electricity for nothing. On occasion, Dave had accompanied the curator with the school party simply to answer any unexpected questions.
The turbines interested the school parties but more laughs and hilarity were occasioned when Dave activated the large ‘Pelton wheel’ and water splashed everywhere before the wheel reached full velocity. Often, in the summer, the children got drenched as the supply nozzle was opened and water erupted at force to strike the spoon blades and deflect outwards before the children realized the situation.
The familys' visit to the Alternative energy centre proved a highlight for the children and they consequently behaved themselves for Elspeth while Dave sat in on Brionys’ preliminary interview with Jennifer the family law partner.
An hour later, Briony emerged a much happier and reassured woman. She hung on Daves’ arm and rested her head against his breasts.
“I’ll be safe now.” She sighed as they clambered into the Landrover.
“Only if he observes the court order.” Dave advised. “Jennifer’s filing the documents tomorrow. You’ll have to attend the court in Aberystwyth tomorrow. Come on, let’s get you lot home.”
Dave picked his way into the traffic and was pulling up at traffic lights as Briony squealed.
“Shit! There he is!!”
Briony dived to the floor of the Landrover as Elspeth pushed Sions head below the window line in the back seat.
Arfon had not spotted Briony and he simply gave the Landrover a cursory glance until he recognised Elspeth. He moved to cross the street and talk to her but the lights changed and Dave took off at normal traffic speed whilst trying to resist the temptation to floor the pedal. Fortunately neither Dave nor Elspeth made eye contact with Arfon and they sped up the road to discharge Elspeth and her brood at her house before taking off for Aberystwyth. On the way out, Dave spotted Arfon again but Briony, Ellairy and Sion were well hidden under a large tarpaulin and the three sheepdogs were free of the cage in the back section. They were sitting on various seats and their heads were clearly visible above the windows. Dave behaved like a total stranger and the dogs added to anonymity of the image. The dogs also ensured their protection.
After a curious glance Arfon concluded that Dave was just some friend or acquaintance of Elspeths’ who had obviously given the single mother and her brood, a ride home.
As Dave drove out of town along the Aberystwyth road he checked his mirror several times to ensure he wasn’t being followed and finally, some several miles out of Machynlleth, he turned up a narrow mountain road in Tal y Bont and waited. After a wait of twenty minutes nobody appeared and Briony complained.
“I’m getting cramp under this sheet.”
Dave turned to look over his shoulder and agreed.
“Yeah. I don’t think anybody has followed us. Okay come on out and we can head for ‘Aber’. We’ll carry on up this road to Garth Penrhyncoch then down into Aber through Capel Dewi; it’s remote and we’ll easily notice anybody following us.”
Daves’ easy rattling off, of places unfamiliar to Briony, reassured her.
‘Obviously he knew his way around the area.’ She concluded.
Briony smiled and in the courtesy light Dave noted the relief evident in her expression. He smiled again to reassure her.
“It’s not far, we won’t be long. There’s a hotel number on my phone. The Royal on the sea front. Bell them and book a room. Tell them I’ve got the dogs. They shouldn’t be busy now; the turkey and tinsel weeks are over.”
Briony dialled and booked a room then settled back to relax. They arrived without any further problems and Briony slumped exhausted in the lounge as Dave confirmed the booking. The day and the fear of meeting Arfon had exhausted her. She was glad of a bed that night.
With the coming of dawn the cries of the gulls awoke her and by ten am, she was waiting with Jennifer in the county court to confirm the restraining order. Dave was down on the beach entertaining Sion, Ellairy and three excited dogs who were barking furiously at the waves and gulls as they rocketed along the water line. Sion tried chasing them but he soon learned the futility of his quest. He settled beside a groyne where Dave assisted his architectural endeavours. While Ellairy slept in the buggy. Briony and Jennifer found them at noon and they went for lunch as Jennifer explained the restraining order. Arfons’ previous record had counted against him and the judge had issued the preliminary order without hesitation.
“It now remains for the police to find Arfon and serve the order upon him.” Jennifer confirmed.
“That won’t be easy,” Briony added. “He can be violent when he gets angry. I wouldn’t like to be the copper who has to do it.”
“The police are already aware of things Briony,” Jenny reassured her,” they know where he lives and they know where he stayed last night.”
The Ram 13
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Briony finds out a little bit more about Daves' childhood from Blodwen.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 13.
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby) Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
The journey back to Plas Craig Las proved uneventful. Some snow had fallen but not enough to block the road. Dave stopped by at Cledwyns’ farm to deliver the shopping and pick up the ‘eight thousand’ tractor. Briony had her first opportunity to meet Blodwen the seemingly super -efficient farmers’ daughter who had already been up to Plas Craig to feed the animals and check the foal. While Dave discussed livestock issues with Cledwyn, Briony shared a cup of tea and biscuits with Blodwen. Invariably the conversation turned to Dave and then Daves’ sexuality. Blodwen was circumspect to a fault as she cautiously probed Brionys’ views about various life styles until she finally guided it slowly around to alternative LGBT lifestyles. She seized her opportunity when Briony seemingly touched innocently upon Blodwen and Daves’ shared childhoods.
“He told me you and he went right through school together.”
Blodwen nodded.
“Yes, Ysgol Cymraeg Machynlleth.”
“So you both speak Welsh then,” Briony observed and secretly pleased that Dave was talking in English to Cledwyn, ‘probably out of respect to me,’ she thought.
“Yes,” Blodwen replied, “fourteen years on the same bus to and from school every day.
“I’m surprised you’re not in a relationship, what with living next door to each other all those years and with nobody else for what seems like miles.” Briony remarked pointedly.
Blodwen picked up on the direction Briony was going so she widened the gates.
“Oh we had a brief fling ... you know, clumsy juvenile fumblings but it amounted to nothing. I ended up going to college while he stayed back to run the farms. Both the farms mind you, his and ours, I owe him big time for that. At one stage when dad found out I wasn't interested, he almost sold our farm until Dave and his dad offered to buy it to give me time to make up my mind.”
“Yes he did mention it.”
“He's a natural farmer and for one so young there's not much he doesn't know. He’s doing as well as me now though,” Blodwen observed, “he runs our farm for my dad and then there’s the forestry business and he sells electricity to the grid. All in all, Dave does very well.”
“And you’re still not interested?”
“Uuuhm, no. I live and work in Birmingham. Lonely mountain farms are not for me, I like my social life. I’m a city girl.”
“Clubs and bars and lots of friends then is it?” briony grinned.
A flicker of caution danced momentarily in Blodwens’ eyes then she nodded. Briony had mentioned clubs and that left an opening. Blodwen took it.
“Well frankly yes. I like clubbing. I’m so busy with the architectural practice, clubbing’s my only opportunity to meet people outside of work.”
“And Birmingham’s got some pretty good clubs.” Briony added for good measure
Blodwen nodded vigorously.
“Yes it has; pretty wild ones actually. After a childhood spent on a lonely Welsh hillside, I’m making up for it now.”
Briony nodded.
“Yes, I think that was my mistake. Small town girl, born and bred in Llanidloes, met a local boy and married too young. I also married the wrong man. My husband’s a bastard, that’s what Dave was doing today ... helping sort some of the shit out.”
“It seems lots of men are bastards,” Blodwen said, “present company excepted.”
“Well I can vouch for that. The way he’s helped me is unbelievable what with the car-crash, the snow, my husband pursuing me and everything. D’you know I spent all Christmas at Daves’ house and he’s never once made a pass or anything.”
“Yes, he was always good to me when we were at school. Oh, I admit, we fumbled and failed, but in truth it was a fiasco, we were both immature and very much feeling our way ... no pun intended. But most importantly Dave never bragged or swaggered or lied. In fact he never spoke about us or our friendship to any of the other kids in our year. The other kids were always pumping us because we had every opportunity. Last two kids off the bus and all those long walks home together in summer afternoons through the heather."
Briony sensed an opening and boldly asked but in a whisper.
“D’you think he’s gay!”
“Dave! Oh heavens no! I don’t think so; he’s just shy and maybe undersexed. Would you be offended if he was gay?”
It was Briony’s chance to reveal her liberalism.
“Not at all. It seems as though it would be a waste if he was. He’s actually quite handsome in a willowy sort of way and a really lovely personality. My son adores him and they’ve only known each other for three days.”
“D’you consider being gay a waste then?”
“No. I didn’t mean it that way. I’ve no problems with gay or any of the other people in the LGBT thing.”
“Oh you’ve heard of the LGBT thing then.”
“Ye-ees. Llanidloes isn’t the end of the world you know,” Briony replied somewhat slowly and deliberately to ease any potential misunderstandings, “we do have radio and even television in Llanidloes. It’s every bit as advanced as Machynlleth.”
Blodwen giggled as she noted the unspoken hint hidden in brionys' irony.
“So you don’t mind the other stuff, the lesbians, bi’s and trans?”
“No. Not at all! Look, after the shit way I’ve been treated by my husband ... a so called heterosexual man; I’d be tempted to turn lesbian myself. At least there wouldn’t be the violence.”
It was Blodwens’ turn to make a cautious observation.
“Don’t you believe it girl? There are some very aggressive and violent lesbians out there.”
“Well I wouldn’t know; I’ve never knowingly been in a lesbian club. Have you then? What are they like?”
Blodwen smiled as she expected to shock Briony.
“Yes, I have, I go there all the time, you see, I’m lesbian.”
If Blodwen had expected Briony to be shocked, she was disappointed.
“So that’s why you and Dave ... fumbled ... as you put it.”
Briony said it so matter-of-factly, without a shadow or a whisper of shock or censure, that it was Blodwens’ turn to be surprised. She had expected a simple small town girl from Mid Wales to show at least some small shock or consternation by her bold revelation but Briony had taken it in her stride without missing a beat.
“Are you not offended by my sexuality?” Blodwen asked curiously.
“No more or less than I am offended by Dave and Daphne, in fact I’m very fond of Daphne.”
Blodwens’ jaw sagged with shock before she almost burst into laughter.
“Oh you cow! You little bloody minx! You’ve been leading me on all the time! You know about Dave! And his uuhhmm...”
“Yes. I met Daphne on Christmas Eve. Dave’s pretty laid back about it ... far less angst than you.”
Blodwen just wagged her head slowly.
“And there was me, all tight and anxious about Dave being discovered; locally I mean. I was trying to protect him.”
Briony fell into a giggling fit and it infected Blodwen. Dave had returned from chatting to Cledwyn in the front room and he noticed it.
When he asked “what was up?” They simply wagged their heads and Briony managed to choke out that she’d explain back at Plas Craig.
After completing their arrangements Dave made his excuses and clambered into the eight thousand tractor and invited Briony and Blodwen to follow up to Plas Graig in the Landrover. Briony realised that Blodwen was Daves’ ‘de-facto’ sister and felt bound to accept that she came up to the hall virtually as and when she wanted without invitation. Consequently, she was not surprised to learn that Blodwen had her own key. As Briony drove, they naturally chatted at length about Dave and the house and even discussed futures.
“So you’re definitely going for a divorce?” Blodwen finally asked.
“Yes! Definitely,” Briony replied emphatically, “Arfon’s a pig!”
“Are you interested in Dave now that you know about his transgenderism? I mean, it’s not some sort of puerile interest is it? I don’t mean to pry but I don’t want to see him hurt. I’m still very fond of him. We’ve been friends since the cradle.”
Briony sensed the genuine concern that Blodwen had for Dave and realised they must have shared more than just a lifetime. In high school, they had inadvertently protected each-others’ hidden issues without realising it and when they had finally discovered each others’ natures, their discovery only served to strengthen their childhood bonds of friendship.
Blodwen explained all this and Briony realised she had two people to think about if she and Dave took their relationship further. And Briony so wanted to take it further, for the more she saw of Dave, the more her heart ached. She could understand exactly why Blodwen thought so much of him.
Apart from the very real sexual attraction Briony felt, there was an additional factor to Dave and it showed through Sions’ affection for him. Normally her little boy went in fear of adult men but Dave had simply waltzed through the barrier that Sion had erected, and all by sheer kindness and sincerity. A lump formed in Brionys’ throat as she slithered into the icy yard to see Dave unlocking the kitchen door. Even before she had stepped from the Landrover, Blodwen was lifting Ellairy out of her travelling seat and holding her to her body momentarily as Sion erupted from his seat and scorched across the yard to the barn.
Briony smiled and explained as Blodwen looked puzzled.
“He’s gone to see Gabby, Angels’ foal.”
“Oooh yes, such a beautiful little mare? I must see her as well.”
Blodwen was undecided whether to join Sion in the stables or stay with Briony. In the end she handed Ellairy to Briony then decided to do a quick check on Sion with the foal. On finding Dave filling the food boxes while Sion knelt in the hay with both mare and foal lying down, Blodwen was happy with the situation and returned with Dave to join Briony into the kitchen. As she entered Briony was fussing with Ellairy in the kitchen so Dave turned to Blodwen.
“Can you put the kettle on love, I think Ellairy needs changing. D’you want me to do it Bri’ or shall I get the shopping in?”
“I’ll do it,” Briony replied, “Blod and I can chat some more while the kettle boils. What did you go shopping for?”
“A few odds and ends, oh and I bought you a pack of knicks, you can’t keep borrowing mine.”
Blodwen looked at Briony then to Dave.
“Getting fussy are you love?”
“Well, it’s a girl thing,” Dave grinned as he returned to the Landrover to collect the shopping.
Briony and Blodwen started giggling again and they were still giggling when Dave returned. He handed her the seven-pack of cotton Sloggies and then produced a bra that Briony recognised as the right size. She grinned as she held it up.
“I hope you haven’t been snooping. How did you know my size?”
“The one you borrowed from Daphne didn’t fit quite right, so I checked your nursing bra and got an ordinary one with a slightly bigger cup. They know me in Machynlleth so it would be silly of me to have bought a nursing bra. They’d be bound to ask questions and the answers could have got back to that husband of yours.”
Briony wagged her head as she realised how thoughtful Dave was.
“You think of everything, don’t you?”
Dave shrugged and grinned.
“Us girls must stick together.”
Blodwens’ face split into a wide grin.
“My God Dave, if only we had known when we were at school, think of the years we lost.”
Dave sighed.
“Ayeeeh. Yes but what would our parents have said? Cledwyn still doesn’t know about either of us does he?”
“He doesn’t need to know either. Blodwen finished as she poured the tea and only had to ask Briony how she liked hers.
Briony noted that the pair were virtually brother and sister twins. In all but name. She secretly envied them for each knew the others’ nature and it gave them a shared mutual strength. After sipping her tea Briony had to feed Ellairy and Blodwen watched with genuine interest while Dave checked on Sion and the animals in the barn.
“When I have children, I’m going to breast feed.” Blodwen announced.
“It makes your nipples all brown and lumpy, as well as saggier boobs.”
“It won’t matter. My partner and I have already discussed all the issues.”
“And?”
“We’re getting past the clubbing and wild young thing stage. I’ve been doing that since college. Both my partner and I are seriously considering children.”
Briony smiled a genuinely warm smiling as she squealed.
“Oh that’s lovely. You’ve got to tell me when you’re expecting.”
Blodwens' face clouded slightly and Briony sensed what was coming. She caught the faint whisper of despair as it flashed ever so briefly across Blodwens’ face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing,” Blodwen sighed.
But Briony sensed the undercurrent and gently reached out her hand.
“I might have got this all wrong but I sense an issue here. Might I be bold? ... and if I’m wrong will you promise not to scold me?”
Blodwen suspected Briony had already latched on to the issue. She nodded thoughtfully and agreed.
“I suspect you’ll be right, and I hope you won’t be offended.” Blodwen said.
Briony drew a long almost invisible breath as she plucked up the courage.
“Were you hoping to use Dave; as a donor that is?”
Blodwen nodded and turned away, half expecting some sort of conflict. Instead Briony smiled and squeezed Blodwens’ hand.
“I don’t have a problem with that Blod. You’ve a right to have a child. It’s every womans’ human right. And that’s irrespective of their sexuality or gender ... or transgender! She added thoughtfully.”
She felt Blodwens’ grip tighten with gratitude and Blodwen turned to smile. Briony couldn’t miss the moisture in her eyes.
“Thank you Briony. Yes, you’re the right girl for Dave. Would you want to give him a child?”
It was Brionys’ turn to continue being philanthropic.
“It’s every mans’ right to have a child as well.”
Blodwen grinned as Briony added.
“And that’s also irrespective of sexuality or gender ... or transgender. Anyway, it’ll please your dad Cledwyn to see you have a child by the man he always thought you were going to marry.”
“Those were always my thoughts,” Blodwen replied as she grinned and stood up to kiss Briony.
Briony sensed that it was a genuine friendship kiss of gratitude and Blodwens’ accompanying hug reiterated her assumption. Once again, Blodwen held Brionys’ head in her hands and kissed her on the forehead. Briony boldly brought her lips up and transferred the kiss to Blodwens’ lips. It was a friendship kiss and tongues did not entwine. Each girl knew now how it stood and then they spoke simultaneously as they parted.
“Dave’s a lucky man!”
This coincidental remark reduced the girls to fits of laughter and sealed their friendship. They started to prepare a meal and within half an hour, the excited treble of Sions’ voice was heard in the utility room even before he skipped into the kitchen.
“Mummy! Mummy, Gabby came right up to me and sniffed my hand. She even let me put my arms around her neck. She really likes me! Dave says I’ll be able to ride her as soon as she’s old enough. There won’t be any problems.”
Sion turned with a ‘wide-eyed’ grin to Dave who had followed him in. Dave nodded, then sniffed appreciatively.
“Ooh that smells good. My favourite; bangers, mash and fried eggs.”
Briony wagged her head in mock despair.
“Blodwen told me. My God David Cadwalloder you’ve got plebeian tastes.”
Dave reached out and pulled Briony into an affectionate embrace.
“Well it’s that or Cowl darling and Cowl takes too long.”
“I’ll make that for you tomorrow.” Briony almost purred while Blodwen sported a huge grin.
“I’ll be up to share that tomorrow lunch time. But I’ve got to get back to see to Dad after this dinner. I’ll drop in for lunch on my way back to Birmingham tomorrow.”
“Oh you’re going back are you? That’s a pity. Will Daphne see you in Birmingham for New year?” Dave asked.
“I wouldn’t miss Daphne for the world love.” Blod reassured him as she turned to Briony. “What about you Bri’?”
“I’d love to come but what about the children?”
“Bring them. The hotel has got a child minding service.” Dave replied.
Briony felt a thrill of anticipation and as she turned to Dave, he smiled.
“The bank can stand it. You deserve a break. I have to warn you though; the clubs can be pretty intoxicating. We Tee-girls know how to enjoy ourselves.”
“And you say it’s safe,” Briony checked.
“You’re safer with us Tee-girls than any other crowd. Besides I’ll be letting the others know you’re with me.”
“Does that count?”
“Yes. Yes, if an unmarried tee-girl meets a single girl in a gay club, they are both entitles to 'sound each other out'. If you were alone you'd get a lot of attention from Tee girls and lesbians. Fortunately several of the other tee-girls will be there with their wives and partners, you won’t be alone.”
Briony felt a warm thrill of anticipation and turned to Sion who was looking hungrily at the spare sausages. She glanced inquiringly at Dave who nodded with a smile.
“Of course he can, growing boys need their food in this weather. Besides, he’s out with me feeding the sheep in the morning.”
Sions’ eyes lit up as Briony parcelled out a second helping of sausages and asked him.
“D’you want to come to Birmingham with me and Daphne?”
His grin widened even further.
“Daphne! Yes please, she’s nice.”
Dave and Blodwen exchanged smiles. As fully signed up members of the LGBT community it was a pleasure to hear the boy switch from Daphne to Dave and back to Daphne with little or no confusion. Already Sion had learned when and where Dave became Daphne and Daphne became Dave.
“Start em young,” Blod chuckled, “and you’ll have fewer complications.”
“Same with horses Blod!” Dave riposted. “By the way, after dinner I’ll run you over in the tractor.”
For the rest of the meal, they finalised details of Briony’s stay as Blodwen gave her tips about living in the house. Dave went out for one last check on the barn. Blodwen took the opportunity to give Briony some pointers.
“I’ve lived and worked in this house helping Dave since he lost his dad and helping his dad before that. If you’ve any questions, just ask me. Mind you, whilst Dave can’t help you much, Daphne can.”
Briony gave her head a little shake as she wrapped it around the dichotomy that Blodwen had just described.
“That’s a weird one, I mean; you speak as though there are two people in the one head.”
“Well in truth,” Blodwen confessed, “that’s the only way I can think of it. Truly, Daphne and Dave are two very different people. Dave’s a man although a lovable sweetie, while Daphne’s very much a girl. You’ll find it’s Daphne who organises the house and runs it. Just remember to accept Daphne as the mistress of the house until she comes to terms with your being here. Don’t worry, she will accept you; she accepted me once I recognised that she was here and it was technically her house. The one thing I can’t advise is if or when you become partners. How would Daphne feel about having another mistress in the house?”
Briony shrugged.
“I don’t know; it’s a long way off anyway. I mean a divorce absolute could take months or even years if Arfon contests it or demands custody of the children. What if the judge learns about Daphne? If that bastard Arfon found out about her, he’d be bound to use it against us.”
Blodwen frowned.
“I don’t know. I just can’t answer that. It’s not as bad as it used to be; in the courts I mean... These new laws against transphobia could help but if you get a stiff-necked religious nut for a judge, well; who knows?”
Briony nodded ruefully. She would just have to wait and see.
Finally, after dinner was finished, Dave arranged to Run Blodwen home on the eight thousand tractor. When he mentioned it, Briony felt Sions’ pleading eyes boring a hole in her motherhood. He whispered hopefully.
“Can I go with them mummy? I’ve never been on the tractor at night and it’s got a cool set of lights on the cab.”
Dave turned almost with a sixth sense for he had already learned that he hardly had to mention the tractor and a hopeful face would turn expectantly. He nodded to Briony.
“He can come if you’re happy but he’ll have to sit on Bronwens’ knee for the outward journey. Bron will be sitting where Sion usually sits in the back-hoe dickie seat.”
Bronwen nodded agreement to Briony and the deal was struck. Sion was out in the utility room like a bullet from a gun and the three adults turned to smile. Within minutes Briony was watching the tractor roaring off up the lane like a tank. While she sorted Ellairy for the night and cleared up the dinner, she had time to reflect upon her good fortune. There was no contest in her mind. Divorce Arfon, then, if Dave (and Daphne,) were happy ... marry Dave and have a new found friend in Daphne. Provided Sion was happy with Daphne (and he seemed to be,) then things should work out. As for Ellairy, well she would never know anything different. She would grow up knowing it to be acceptable. Briony was singing happily to herself when Dave and Sion returned and she did not hear the click of the door. Dave gently tugged Sions’ arm as they entered.
“Listen to that lad, your mum seems happy.”
Sion listened transfixed then turned to Dave and smiled.
“I’ve never heard mummy singing.”
The Ram 14
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A Chapter that expands the relationship between 8-year-old Sion and the intergendered Dave/Daphne.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 14.
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby) Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
The following morning, Briony was again pleasantly surprised to find Dave already up and cooking breakfast when she arrived in the kitchen with Ellairy in her arms. He turned and smiled softly.
“Slept well then?”
Briony nodded a little guiltily but Dave set her guilt to rest.
“You’re a nursing mum. You deserve your rest. Your body’s feeding two. Here, eat this.”
He set a bowl of porridge before her and she looked askance. Briony rarely ate porridge but this smelled different.
“What’s in it?” She asked.
“Just the usual, oats, brown sugar and full fat, fresh milk.”
“How do you stay so slender on that?” She asked him flatly.
“Most days I’m out on the hill checking the flocks ... Cledwyns’ and mine. That’s a lot of walking, but there’s a lot of hill up there. This snow knocks everything back, but the flock is safely on the low pastures.
“Don’t you use the Landrover?”
“Not usually; only to feed them. Walking helps you see and hear more. You also get a better feel for stuff, the weather, broken fences, any trouble with the flock. If you’re sat in a Landrover cab it isolates you. I take the dogs and they enjoy the work too. We’re not always herding sheep; the dogs get to trot about.”
“Trot?” Briony wondered.
“Yes, ‘trot’. It’s a word I’ve trained them to obey. They get to accompany me but they can scamper around provided they don’t disturb any sheep yet stay within sight of me and also in earshot. They get their exercise and I get mine.”
“So when does Angel get out?”
“When I’m gathering the flock for anything, they can be spread out over several miles. I really need a horse then.”
“Just like a real cowboy,” Sion piped.
Daves’ eyes widened as he realised the reality.
“Well ... yes ... your right lad, in fact I even use a western saddle. It’s easier on Angel and it’s easier on me cos I can be out all day so I carry my waterproofs and food.”
“Will I be able to come with you when mummy marries you?” Can I ride Gabby?
Briony blushed a deep red and turned away to hide her embarrassment; when she turned again to face the men; she saw Dave smiling at Sion and Brionys’ heart could have melted. ‘Arfon had almost never smiled at Sion ... his own son! Her son’
Still feeling embarrassed but with curiosity satisfied, Briony tested the porridge, found it to her taste then she smiled to see Sion digging in with relish.
‘Fresh air was certainly doing him good’. She concluded as she spooned the hot oatmeal.
With breakfast over it was a foregone conclusion that Sion would join Dave on the tractor and once again, Briony found herself in the kitchen with Ellairy and lunch to prepare. She wasn’t alone for long though and she was pushing the vacuum cleaner with Ellairy sitting akimbo on her hip when she heard the latch click and Blodwens’ call.
“Heloo-oo! Are you there love?”
She switched off the Hoover with relish and turned to meet Blodwen as she came into the kitchen with a bouquet of mostly red flowers in her hand.
“Oh are those for me, that’s nice.”
Blodwen grinned sheepishly.
“Well they were for Daphne actually. She likes flowers and I bought these with me from Birmingham. When I learned about you I thought discretion was the better part ... you know, woman of the house and all that.”
“Of valour,” Briony finished. “Well I’m pleased anyway. They’ll brighten up the kitchen.”
Blodwen smiled again.
“She prefers them in her bedroom. Well, Daves’ bedroom actually. There’s a green vase on the side windowsill that’s his grandmothers’. Memories and all that you understand. Daphne or Dave, they both like to put red flowers in it. She’ll be really pleased and so will he.”
Briony studied Blodwen curiously.
“How do you see her mostly, Dave or Daphne?”
“Well in truth, geographically I see her as Daphne mostly. When she comes up to Brum’ she’s permanently in Daphne mode, and when I come home and visit her, she’s Daphne most of the time unless working outside or we go into Machynlleth. In my head, I'm not sure how I see them.”
Briony wondered.
“D’you think I’m cramping her style, Daphnes’ that is? D’you think she would be Daphne right now If I wasn’t here?”
Blodwen stood holding the kettle as she considered the thought.
“I can’t say. He’s out on the hill at the moment. Sion knows about Daphne so there are no issues there. I suspect Dave really likes you and Daphne’s recognised that. She’s probably encouraging Dave to make a play for you because you make Dave happy. I say go for it girl. You’re the right girl for Dave and you know about Daphne so you give him hope. I can tell you this, Dave loves kids and he’d want some if you married him.”
“Well that I know, you only have to look at him and Sion.”
Blodwen glanced out of the window and grinned.
“They’re on their way back, look at the sheep chasing the tractor. The snow’s made them hungry.”
Briony followed Blodwens’ gaze across the valley to see the tractor resembling a big yellow beetle being followed by the flock of sheep like a slow moving cloud. She smiled as she recognised a small figure shovelling out high concentrate nuts from the trailer and scattering them behind.
“Ooh look, he’s got Sion working. I’d never have believed it. He hated doing anything with his father.”
Blodwen looked out and nodded.
“Yep, both Dave and I used to do that when we were Sions’ age. We used to stand in the trailer as his dad or mine drove the tractor, and we threw out either protein nuts or mangles. The sheep love them and in this weather it’s a lifeline. Don’t forget, all those ewes are pregnant and this time of year there’s not much grass under the snow. They need the food.”
Briony watched for several minutes and a warm feeling of pure pride filled her heart as she watched her son furiously spooning out food from the bags and flinging it as far as his little arms could throw. Blodwen sensed Briony’s pride and smiled as she sipped her coffee.
“It’s bitterly cold out there. Sion’ll eat like an elephant when he gets back.”
Briony turned and smiled as yet another tiny tear forced its’ way to her eye. Blodwen hugged her and whispered.
“This is exactly why I want a child now; if it was Daves’ the bonus would be double. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No. No; not at all. He’ll make a wonderful dad to boot.”
Once again Blodwen pecked Briony on the cheek then turned purposefully.
“Well, that lunch isn’t going to cook itself. I’ll do the veg.”
“Thanks Blod. Are you driving back to Birmingham immediately after?”
“Not quite, I’ll drop a meal off for Dad, then immediately after that.”
“Can’t he cook for himself?”
“Yes, some, but Dave often drops a meal in for him. He’s like a son to my dad, that’s why I’m so fond of him. Truly, we had a wonderful shared childhood. If it wasn’t for Dave or more correctly, Daphne, I’d have had to stay at home and see to dad. I owe him or her a lot. When we discovered each others’ foibles in later life, it was serendipity.”
“Would you like me to check in on your dad, now it seems we’ll be staying here?”
“I was secretly hoping you’d offer. Yes, that would be fantastic ... and don’t worry about other days. Dick the labourers’ wife sometimes pitches in but dad’s not a complete invalid, he still cooks and does work around both the farms when needed.”
They carried on chatting until the rumble of the tractor announced the return of ‘the men’ and Briony waited for yet another excited epistle of the mornings’ events. She shouted from the kitchen as she heard the door latch.
“Lunch will be about ten minutes but Blod’s got the coffee on.”
After a brief delay as they removed several outer layers and boots, Sion appeared with rosy cheeks and shaking his hands to get warm as he made a bee-line for the AGA. Dave followed and did exactly the same.
“Smells good,” he grinned, “what’s in it?”
“Never you mind,” Blodwen cautioned the boys, “and no peeping until you’ve warmed your hands and washed them.” She turned to Briony and added. “You’ll have to keep these guys in line. You’ll be the boss of the kitchen if you two do get wed.”
“What; even when Daphne’s here?” Sion piped up.
“The adults grinned and Blodwen was ecstatic to realise that Sion really was assimilated to Daphnes’ existence. She declared with a chuckle.
“Especially when Daphne’s here!”
“Why?” Asked Sion.
“Because you can’t have two mistresses in the same house young man! You’ll learn that as you get older. Now wash your hands, then sit to the table.”
Having got an answer delivered in such a ‘matter-of-fact’ tone, Sion decided to let it drop but he was left wondering if Daphne would cease to matter and therefore cease to be. He had one last question as he sought reassurance.
“Mummy, when you marry Dave, will Daphne have to go away?”
Briony let out a squawk of embarrassed laughter as she replied.
“Darling, it’ll be quite some time before anything like marriage will even be discussed. I have to divorce your dad yet. Now get into the dining room and stop cluttering up the kitchen.”
Dave and Sion reluctantly moved to the dining room and stood by the warm air heating near the window. They were still recovering from the cold.
“I wish mum’d hurry up and leave him,” Sion mumbled sub-vocce, hoping to avoid showing his feelings and incurring displeasure.
“I heard that,” Dave replied softly but with a barely suppressed smile. Then he whispered softly.“Would you really want me to marry your mum?”
Sion nodded wistfully before whispering ‘Yes’.
“And what about Daphne?”
“I like Daphne. I wish I could have Daphne as well as you.”
Dave made puzzled expression.
“How d’you mean?”
“Well, I wish Daphne could be here when you are here but she can’t can she?”
“You mean both of us together?”
“Yes.” Sion affirmed.
Dave chuckled.
“Well, we are in a way Sion. It’s just that we can’t be here and wear two sets of clothes at the same time. Who do you prefer?”
Sions’ lip trembled with uncertainty. He was frightened to cause offence.
“I, I’m not sure. Daphne I think. You won’t be angry will you?”
Dave gave Sion a hug and grinned.
“Not at all darling. I think I prefer Daphne as well.”
Sions’ eyes widened hopefully as he asked.
“Can Daphne come down for dinner tonight?”
“Yes, after Dave has finished around the farm.”
Once again Sion made a pertinent comment.
“That’s where I like to be with Dave, outside on the tractor and around the animals, in the fields.”
Dave looked thoughtful and turned to explain his feelings to both Sion and Briony as she entered with plates and cutlery.
“Sion’s been telling me he likes Daphne around the house and Dave outside in the fields but I feel that I have to tell you both. Daphne has an equal right to go out working in the fields, and Daphne likes to ride Angel as well.”
“Does she go alone?” Briony asked.
“Well, Blodwen comes sometimes, when she’s home visiting. We used to ride all the time together while we were growing up. Can you ride?”
Briony confessed that she couldn’t. Dave reassured her.
“Well we can always teach you, besides; Blodwens’ horse needs the exercise.”
Briony turned to Blodwen who nodded agreeably as she started ladling out the cowl.
“Any time you like girl. I know you and my horse will be in safe hands if you ride with Daph’ or Dave.”
A silence fell as four hungry mouths demolished the cowl then Briony declared she had to go and feed Ellairy. Blodwen had to depart after clearing the dishes so she gave Dave and Sion a hug then slipped upstairs to join Briony with Ellairy. Dave was left with Sion to fill the dish-washer and as they switched it on, Dave grinned.
“Daphne usually does this bit, the kitchen bit. I’ll go and see to the animals d’you want to come?”
“Yes please. Sion replied eagerly.”
“You’ll only need a jersey and wellies. We’re only going to the barn.”
As Sion dashed off to dress for the outside, Dave called up the stairs to advise Briony then the pair crossed the yard. The barn was a place Sion was beginning to think of as his own and he made his usual bee-line for the loosebox. Once again, the foal stepped forward to greet the boy and Dave explained that Sion was building up a good rapport. They fed the rest of the animals and returned to the house as Blodwen was leaving. Briony was mildly surprised that there wasn’t more emotion between Dave and Blodwen until she remembered that Dave would be taking her and Sion to Birmingham in a couple of days. She gave Blodwen a hug and Blodwen looked wistfully at Ellairy who now lay snug and changed in Brionys’ arms. For the two women it was an emotional farewell but Briony was mildly surprised yet pleased to see that Dave had no obvious sexual attraction to Blodwen ... or at least, he did not show any.
After the briefest of ‘pecks’ on the cheek, Blodwen picked her way up the lane to the road. Dave turned to Briony and smiled. Briony was pleased to see that ‘extra something’ that told of Daves’ sexual attraction.
‘A girl just knew when a man was interested’, she told herself, and the feeling felt good.
The Ram 15
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A Chapter where both Briony and Sion get to see more of the magic that so sucessfully transforms Dave into Daphne. briony accepts Dave's invitation to accompany him to the Birmingham Gay village for the New Year.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 15
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby) Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
The Ram 15.
With Blodwen gone and the animals fed, Briony and Dave found themselves at a loose end. This was unusual for such a large farm but with the snow still lying thick, there was little else Dave could do about the farm. Dave had arranged with Cledwyns’ labourer Meredith to attend to the animals while they went to Birmingham for the New Year. He was keen for the extra work because it meant overtime and a substantial sum. Dave usually paid Meredith back when Meredith loved to go for the whole four days in July to attend the Royal Welsh Agricultural show. It was rare for a Welsh farm labourer to get a full weeks’ holiday in that particular week because usually, the farmer wanted to go as well. Dave however invariably stayed over on the farm while attending to his own and Cledwyns’ farm not to mention overseeing other farmers’ stock that grazed the high moorland throughout the summer months.
Over some hundreds of square-miles, livestock ... mainly sheep, cattle and ponies, roamed free on what was euphemistically regarded as ‘The Roof of Wales’. Dave would savour the remoteness and sometimes even dressed as ‘Daphne’ in ‘Skinny’ jeans and floaty summer blouse while patrolling remote moorland on horseback without seeing another person sometimes for days as she rode over untrodden moors well away from the beaten tracks. With her western style saddle and small ‘pup-tent’, Daphne, angel and the dogs got a week of unfettered roaming like some Montana ‘line-rider’. All the other farmers were usually attending the Royal Welsh Show.
For Daphne however, weekends in Birmingham and Manchester were the main events to aim for. Ever since her father had died, Daphne had been ‘coming out’; slowly at first but then much faster as her nerve and confidence grew. She was really looking forward to the New Year bash on Hurst Street.
As early evening approached, Briony could sense Daves’ mood tensing and she smiled knowingly.
“Am I to suppose Daphne will be down for dinner?”
Dave nodded a little sheepishly then offered his reason.
“Sion wanted to meet Daphne for dinner tonight. It was his idea and I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”
“And I suspect Daphne wants to come out as well.”
“Well ... yes, she does.” Dave confessed. “Where’s Sion just now?”
“Where else, watching the telly. Pity you don’t have any video games and stuff.”
“Plenty of time to buy some in Birmingham, you’ll have several days to shop to your hearts’ content. Apart from the clubbing, I’m also meeting some friends from up Manchester way. Rachel is a tee-girl like me and she’s going to a Tee-girl convention. She’s married and her wife Shirley is a girl who understands her partner. You’ll be able to shop with her and, from experience; I know that it’s much more fun shopping in pairs or even packs. Shirley will also be able to fill you in on some aspects of tee-girls’ mind sets. If you want, you can also come clubbing but I have to warn you, we can be quite a bit O.T.T."
Brionys’ stomach churned partly in anticipation and partly with nerves. Apart from the weekly forays into clubs while she was at university, she hadn’t clubbed much and the college was not famed for its’ gay night life. Going to a ‘Gay Village’ such as Hurst Street in Birmingham sounded much more exciting. She began to wonder just how much O.T.T., Dave might be, or more correctly; Daphne might be. Dave sensed her nervousness and sighed softly.
“Don’t worry Bri’ we’re not that bad though the clubs can be a little overwhelming for the first few times. If you come with Rachel and me at least you’ll have a circle of friends to mix with and you won’t feel quite so isolated. Like I was the first few times, Rachel saw me looking all lost and forlorn one night so she came up and introduced herself. She’s long been involved with helping transgendered people coming out and, or, rebuilding their lives. If you meet her, I think you’ll like her.”
Briony struggled to hide a smile as she asked.
“Are you sure, I don’t like everybody.”
Dave frowned.
“You seemed to like me, almost from the off.”
Briony laughed briefly.
“You saved my life silly. After a wholly accidental introduction and because of the weather, you had me at your mercy for days; yet you behaved like a perfect gentleman. How could any woman not like you?”
Dave shrugged and then frowned.
“It’s easy for women not to like me for they would have to meet Daphne. To like Dave, they would necessarily have to like Daphne.
That’s what separates you from ‘any woman’. You’ve already met her ... and more importantly accepted her.”
Briony felt a soft wave of affection for the man standing before her then she looked at the kitchen clock.
“Well if Daphne’s coming down for dinner, she’d better go and get dressed. I’ll start the roast, off you go darling.”
Dave smiled and nodded winsomely. He bent to kiss Briony on the forehead but Briony brought her lips up in anticipation and they met as the tingles surged. Finally they reluctantly separated and Dave whispered hoarsely.
“Thanks love. You’re just too good to be true.”
“So are you,” Briony replied in a voice equally encumbered with passion. “Now off you go and get ready. Leave the food to me.”
As Daves’ footsteps padded softly up the stairs, Briony turned to the meat and vegetables. After ten minutes, there were enough veg prepared and she decided to go and visit Daphne. Curiosity had overtaken her and the veg were not to be put on for at least three quarters of an hour. She arrived outside Daphnes’ door and listened. There was no shower noise so she presumed Daphne had finished washing. A hair dryer was whirring away so she knocked quite hard.
“Who is it?” Daphne called.
“Who d’you think?” Briony chuckled.
“What d’you want?” Daphne continued.
“I’d love to see how you get ready.”
There was a brief pause as the drier went silent and Daphne bent her head around the door. Briony noted the large towel tucked around her breasts, girly style and she smiled as Daphne explained.
“I’m au-natural darling.”
“So, I’m a married woman and a mother, there’s nothing you’ve got that I’ve never seen before.”
“Perhaps not dear, but not on the same body.” Daphne warned her.
“I know; that’s what makes me curious.”
“Huh. Well at least you’re honest. I suppose you can come in but please, nothing salacious.”
Daphne released the door and Briony accepted the unwritten invitation as Daphne resumed drying her hair. As the hair swooshed up in flying fronds Briony found herself estimating the length.
‘Obviously Dave’s ‘pony-tail’ disguised a lot’.
As the hair fell back it was well down Daphnes’ back. Briony was actually envious. After having been grabbed by her hair and being beaten by Arfon too many times, Briony now kept her hair in a short style that was difficult to grab.
“Here, please, let me do that.” She asked; eager to run her hands through the thick, lustrous head of hair.
After just running her fingers through the fibres Briony sighed.
“This hair is beautiful. You must spend hours caring for it. Who styles it for you?”
“Rachels’ wife Shirley. She’s got her own salon in Manchester but she carries a mobile kit when she comes down to Birmingham. About once a month she does mine.”
“Mmm. It’s lovely, this is fantastic hair; usually mens’ hair is wavy and wild if it’s long. She must straighten it as well.”
“She does. I’ll be getting it done when I see her for the New Year.”
“I could straighten it now if you want,” Briony offered.
“Ooh that would be ever so kind. You’ll need to run the comb through it first.”
She handed Briony the ‘big-toothed’ comb and Briony found it easy to run the comb all the way down the well conditioned tresses.
Then she realised her hands were drawing the front hair over the bulges under the towel. She hesitated as Daphne re-adjusted the fold to re-secure her breasts.
“That’s the most girly thing I’ve seen you do.” Briony giggled. “What size are you?”
“Uuuhm; not sure I should tell you that.”
“Your bras are 36 C; I’ve seen them in your lingerie drawer.”
“You shouldn’t have been looking, how would you like it if a stranger went through your lingerie?”
“Sorry. You’re right; it was wrong of me to do it. I was looking for one to fit me.”
“Well those are old bras, some of them are a bit too small now; Shirley reckons I’m heading for a 36 D.”
“Crickey! How will Dave hide those?”
“Dave’s about ready to come out completely. Well; as completely as makes no difference.”
“Can I see?” Briony asked boldly.
Dave glanced at Briony through the reflection in the mirror and frowned slightly.
“Is this for a genuine opinion or just a perve?”
“Bit of both really, I might as well be honest. We’re just about all girls together here.”
“Uuuhm, correction Briony, there’s a little boys’ toy under this towel. Let me slip on a pair of panties first.”
Briony stepped back and Daphne swayed provocatively across the room to the chest of drawers. She opened the panty drawer, fingered her way thoughtfully through the assorted garments then held up several selections.
“What d’you think?”
“Go with black,” Briony suggested, “I liked that black dress on the third hanger back from the door in the closet. Those panties are also opaque so no little accidental peep-show for Sion and you’ll be able to wear fifteen denier flesh-tone tights instead of those black opaques.”
Daphne nodded agreement then rummaged about for a black bra. After stepping into the panties and ‘tucking’ neatly she let the towel fall to reveal a very attractive pair of firm sizeable breasts. Brionys’ eyes widened enviously as she noted the flat featureless curve of the panties and the nicely rounded cones topped with neat pink nipples.
“My God! Where’s your little boy thing gone!!? And those bloody tits! They’re to die for; that’s just not fair. Are they really all yours?”
“Check for yourself. Look, no scars.”
Daphne gently hefted one with her hand and Briony made a closer inspection.
“Bloody hell Daph’ that really isn’t fair! I’d die for a pair like that. What do the men say? Don’t you get pestered and stuff?”
Daphne shrugged.
“I don’t do men, I’m a lesbian, or more accurately; Daphne’s a lesbian.”
Briony wagged her head and sighed.
“Is that a lesbian with or without her boy bits?”
“With.” Daphne confirmed flatly. “I’m a lesbian with a dick, a functioning dick.”
“Is that an offer then” Briony grinned feeling strangely unthreatened and somehow liberated.
“I’m afraid not,” Daphne replied, “I’m not going to be accused of being a co-respondent in any divorce proceedings. The courts would have a field day or at least, the press would and you could easily lose custody of your children. That’s just some of the shit you’ll face if or when you go up against Arfon in court.”
“I’ll cross that Bridge when I come to it.” Briony sighed.
“Well let’s keep it a short, easy bridge. The less known about me, Daphne, the better.”
As she spoke, Daphne spooned her ripe orbs into the bra and Briony had to look twice to confirm the essentially male hips, for all else of Daphne's body was slim and feminine. Even her waist tapered from her slender rib-cage and flared ever so slightly to her hips. Only the straight line from pelvis to femur gave the game away. Briony strangely found the shape attractive despite the obviously feminine, ripe breasts. She felt tempted to gently cup them but resisted the impulse and instead, she fussed with the bra straps to re-adjust the support.
“There, does that feel better?” She asked.
Daphne checked her appearance in the mirror and fingered the bulging cleavage.
“Shirley’s right. A C cup is a bit small; don’t you think.”
Briony grinned.
“Depends if you want to pull.”
“I don’t want to pull some chick who’s only interested in my cleavage.” Then she turned with the question writ large in her eyes. “I hope I’ve pulled the right chick already ... have I?”
Briony fell silent but Daphne easily read the ‘yes’ in Brionys’ expression.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly as she carefully drew Briony into an embrace.
Briony felt her face being pressed against the soft breast flesh and she felt strangely relaxed, almost as though she was a little girl again cradled in her mothers’ arms.
They stood thus embracing for a couple of minutes before Daphne reluctantly released Briony who instructed her to sit at the dressing table.
“I’ll straighten you hair,” she offered.
Daphne nodded and began to savour the luxurious sensations of having the big-tooth comb and straightening tongs running easily through her hair. After a couple of minutes the job was complete and as Briony stood back to admire her handiwork, Daphne swung her head to cause the hair to swoosh about her head. It fell back neatly to below her shoulder blades into the shape Briony had created and Briony smiled with satisfaction.
‘There was no doubt about it; Daphne had stunningly beautiful hair.’
“Mmmm. That feels good.” Daphne sighed.
“In what way” Briony asked.
“It feels good just brushing softly on my shoulder blades. I like it when it feels silky on the pillow and around my neck when I’m in bed.”
Daphne gently swung her head from side to side and savoured her long silky hair just caressing her shoulders and upper arms for a few moments. Finally she sighed and stood up.
“I’d better band my hair up for the makeup. Can you get that L.B.D. you fancied, from the closet?”
As Briony stepped towards the closet, Daphne sat down at her makeup table just as the bedroom door opened. Sion appeared unexpectedly and was just about to ask where Briony was when he saw Daphne sitting with her back to him in only her bra and panties.
Daphne froze for a moment then recovered her wits enough to remain calm and collected.
“Not now Sion. You must never just walk into a ladys’ bedroom. Your mum’s in my closet choosing a dress but you must wait outside.”
Her instructions were sufficiently firm enough without being abusive or antagonistic. Sion realised that he had blundered as he crimsoned up then slipped back into the passageway until Briony appeared seconds later. She was fully dressed of course and she was holding the LBD that she and Daphne had mutually agreed was the best choice for the night. She repeated Daphne’s censure about just walking into a lady’s bedroom then explained.
“Wait here for a moment until Daphne's got this dress on, then you can come in and watch her put her make-up on, okay?”
Sion quickly realised that his mother was fully dressed and therefore nothing ‘wrong’ had been going on. He smiled and nodded as Briony left the door slightly ajar to confirm to her son that nothing was ‘going on’. Daphne wagged her head and grinned as Briony passed the dress; then she stepped deftly into it and slithered the garment up her legs. The operation took but a couple of seconds and she then called to Sion.
“You can come in now darling.”
Sion appeared beside the door just as Daphne was levering the second shoulder strap over her shoulders and adjusting the bust line. He turned to his mother and Briony saw the relief in his eyes. His unspoken question had been answered. His mother was not ‘doing anything’ with Daphne. Sions’ eyes then immediately fell towards Daphnes’ cleavage. Daphne forked her fingers and pointed them at Sion before reversing them to her own eyes.
“A gentleman talks to a lady’s eyes Sion, not her boobs.”
“But you’ve got boobs. Where did they come from?” Sion asked with childlike directness.
“They grew Sion, just like every girl grows them. Remember, Daphne is a girl. Now. D’you want to see me putting my face on?”
“I want my dinner.”
Both Briony and Daphne burst into giggles as Sion’s realism revealed his hunger.
“Very well son,” Briony replied, “we’ll be down shortly. Go and check that Ellairy’s alright.”
Sion scampered off and Briony settled down to watch Daphne apply the magic that so successfully transformed Dave into Daphne. Daphne settled at the table, placed a large spill towel over her dress then set to with practiced ease.
“I don’t need beard cover, my beard is very sparse and only the fine blond hairs remain, the Laser treatment worked okay on the light brown hairs but left a few blond stragglers so I start with a very pale foundation. I’ve just shaved very close and the shave lasts upwards of two days cos my beard is also slow growing; that’s the hormones.”
"I think that’s the main reason you pass,” Briony observed.
The pair continued chatting until the knock on the bedroom door announced Sions’ return.
“Come in darling. We’re nearly done.” Daphne called.
Sion appeared, hesitated by the door then stepped curiously forward to the dressing table. He peered at Daphnes’ reflection first then came around to watch intensely as Daphne put the finishing touches to her lips. She made one last touch with the lipstick then turned to smile at Sion.
“Well. What d’you think. Will I do?”
Ions’ mouth was agape with wonder.
“You, you don’t look like Dave at all. Daphne’s back isn’t she?”
“In every way darling, now let’s see what jewellery I should have. Red I think because it’s still close to Christmas.
She stood up, turned to the chest of drawers and opened the top drawer that comprised three trays of jewellery. The black, white and red jewellery occupied the top shelf and Daphne was soon slipping bracelets, ear-rings, necklaces and rings about her person. Finally she secured the matching watch and turned to ask Sion his opinion.
“Well? Are we ready for dinner?”
Sion nodded so Daphne turned to Briony
“You’d best put the veg on while I do my tights, shoes and bag.”
Sion stood transfixed then asked.
“Can I watch?”
Daphne turned and smiled censoriously.
“Certainly not young man, when a lady puts her tights on she shows her knickers and you are certainly NOT seeing my knickers; now off with you and help your mum with dinner.”
Sion sniggered at the mention of the word knickers so Daphne gave him an affectionate cuff.
Don’t be silly lad. Knickers is only a word. Go on; off you go.”
And so Sion went, still wondering what sort of woman Daphne was. He knew her to be kind and considerate; he also knew her to be generous to a fault but he could not understand the fact that Daphne was sometimes Dave or ‘Was it Dave who was sometimes Daphne?’
With these thoughts wracking his brain he joined his mother in the kitchen and helped with simple tasks. He took the opportunity to ask for his mothers’ thoughts.
“Mummy, If Daphne’s a real woman, why isn’t she helping in the kitchen now?”
With the vegetables on the boil, Briony sat Sion down at the kitchen table.
“Darling, Daphne is a woman but she’s a woman who shares a brain with Dave inside the same head. Now that means that sometimes their shared body wants’ to do womans’ things or mens’ things at different times. It depends on Dave and Daphne. Sometimes Dave drives and sometimes Daphne drives.”
“But don’t they fight, I mean men and women always seem to argue. You and daddy are always arguing.”
“That’s because Daddy and I cannot agree. Dave and Daphne are a much happier pair of people.”
“But Daphne doesn’t have a winkie. If she’s a girl, that must make her sad. Can she have a baby?”
“No, she can’t and you're right; that does make Daphne very, very sad, it also makes Dave sad because Dave loves Daphne.”
“But if he loves Daphne then how can he love you?”
“Because Daphne and I are the best of friends and that makes Dave and I the best of friends. When a man and a woman are best friends, it often turns to love and that’s how it’s become between Dave, me and Daphne.”
“Are you going to marry Dave?”
“I hope so, one day.”
“I hope so too. Dave’s really nice and he never shouts at me or hits me. Not like daddy does.”
“Well if the judge ever asks you, then tell him that.”
“Judge? D’you mean like going to prison?”
“No Sion. Nobody’s going to prison, not me, not you, not Dave, not Daphne nor your father.”
With that the latch clicked and Daphne emerged from the passageway from the stairs. She smiled, bent over to kiss Sion on the head as she passed, then took an apron from the hook and prepared to help with the meal. Briony smiled as they started to serve the food then the conversation turned to more explanations to Sion about Daphne and Dave. Much stuff was beyond Sions’ understanding but as many of his questions were answered he began to feel much more at ease. Most importantly, Daphne was kind to him, like a friendly aunt and Sion was content to lie on the sofa in the drawing room with his head on Daphnes’ lap while they watched the television and Briony fed Ellairy before putting her down. Sion was also happy to receive reassurance that when they went to Birmingham for the New Year, he would get some video games.
Finally, after doing a final round of the animals with Daphne looking incongruously rustic in her LBD and wellies, they prepared for bed. After she made sure Ellairy was properly dry and then checked that Sion was properly washed and bedded, Briony found her thoughts wandering.
‘Would Dave (or Daphne!) be offended if she asked to sleep with him; or her; or them?' She wondered. Then she smiled to herself as she found herself doing exactly as Blodwen had described; thinking of ‘them’ as two people. ‘Would she have to ask the two of them?’
She lay on the bed until Sion was properly asleep then very carefully slipped along the landing.
The Ram 16
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A chapter where Daphne and Briony's relationship deepens and Briony is introduced to the 'Other side' of Daphne's life.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 16
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby) Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
The landing corridor was dark but Briony could see some light escaping from under Daphnes’ bedroom door. Reassured that Daphne was still up she crept along the landing and cursed silently as a couple of floorboards creaked. Daphnes’ door immediately opened as Daphne called softly.
“Who’s there? Is that you Sion? You should be in bed.”
Briony hesitated then realised Daphne was not afraid of burglars, she was just speaking softly to avoid disturbing her guests. Thus emboldened she identified herself.
“It’s me, Briony. I just wanted to talk,” she lied.
Daphne popped her head around the door, recognised the nightie Briony was wearing and eventually she smiled.
“What d’you want to talk about?”
“Us, the future, my divorce, Arfon, the children, us again; do I have to spell it out?”
“I suppose you’d better come in then. Are the children asleep?”
“Yes.” Briony almost choked as she realised she had crossed two important boundaries; Daphnes’ bedroom doorway and talking intimately about their future relationship.
As she entered, Daphne was climbing back into bed then she demonstrated her feminine intuition and patted the bed.
“It’s warmer under the duvet if it’s going to be a long chat.”
Briony smiled gratefully, ‘Daphne was not playing coy or pulling any strings. The invitation to get under the duvet was a clear pointer to other options being available whilst yet offering a clear ‘get out clause’. She sat on the bed then slid her legs under the raised duvet that Daphne was holding and they were quickly lying with the heads on the pillow facing each other. Briony noted that Daphne had behaved more like a school-friend by remaining covered and not sitting up with her back against the headboard as a man probably would have done, leastways; a man without boobs.
‘Daphne could hardly sit up and expose her delicious rack’ Briony surmised, ‘so she had naturally snuggled under the duvet as though inviting Briony to share some delicious intimacy.’
Briony was sorely tempted but restrained from such a precocious advance. Instead, she lay facing Daphne with their knees and ankles touching as she discussed further issues surrounding any future plans. Inevitably sleep overtook them and the last thing Briony remembered was the bedside light being switched off as Daphne’s twisting to reach the switch disturbed Brionys’ comfortable cwtch.
.In the early morning, Daphne woke first to find that they had somehow embraced during the night. Daphne’s arm had snaked around Brionys’ lower shoulder and they had drawn closer so that their breasts were touching. It was a strange sensation for Briony to find herself pressed against another ‘womans’ breasts but somehow it seemed allowable, especially as the incongruence was emphasised by a very different ‘and, to Briony, more interesting’ activity further down Daves’ body. Briony was minded to investigate further but she resisted the urge to touch with her hands. Instead she pressed her knee between Daphne's thighs and savoured the familiar hardness pressing into her soft curved tummy. Dave grunted then responded as any partially conscious man would. Briony reacted accordingly and suddenly Dave woke with a startled squeak.
“Whoah, hold it girl. Not yet, not before your divorce. We can’t, we daren’t.”
A flicker of disappointment surged through Brionys’ thoughts. ‘She so wanted to take him, to have him to herself. He was just so-oo sweet and tender.’
Reluctantly, they separated and Daphne swung her legs out of the bed to reveal that she had only slept in her panties. Consequently the evidence of Daves’ need was clearly obvious. Brionys’ eyes fell upon Daphne/Daves’ erection and she pouted.
“You wanted it as much as me.”
Daphne nodded and smiled.
“Yes, I did but we just can’t. I’m thinking what the lawyers will say in court.”
“How would they know?”
“They’d ask Sion. I’ve seen how lawyers work. If you’d have been in court during Rachels’ divorce from her first wife you’d understand. It was horrible and Rachel has only just started seeing her children again now that they are fifteen and sixteen. They were eleven and twelve when Rachel and her first wife divorced and guess what the judge said; ‘There would be little harm done in just a few years separation from their father.’
I’ve spoken to those kids just recently and the rage is evident, they hate their mother and they love their dad ... transgenderism and all!
Shirley is Rachels’ second wife and she has only just given Rachel a baby. Rachels’ first two dote on the baby. They are moving back with their dad this coming summer as soon as the fifteen-year-old is of age. It’s their choice and they had ructions with the social workers when they declared their intentions. I don’t want you or indeed any child of ours to have to endure such hurt. We have to wait. I’m sorry Briony; I couldn’t face that sort of upset for any kids of mine, or indeed any future wife. Please, let’s just wait. There’s going to be troubles enough when Arfon discovers that you are seeing a trans-person.”
Briony sagged back in confusion. She was joyously happy that Dave/Daphne had inadvertently declared his/her intention to marry Briony after her divorce yet she was disappointed that nothing physical had taken place to demonstrate their feelings for each other. If she hadn’t known better, it would have seemed that Dave/Daphne was withholding sex like some sort of bargaining chip. But now she understood and with that understanding, she realised she knew very little of Dave’s life between his fathers’ death and the present. Even Blodwen could give little account of his engagement with the transgendered community. Briony now became anxious to meet Rachel and Shirley.
She lay under the duvet reluctant to rise as Daphne emerged from the shower and dressed to face the day. Briony noted that she put her bra on with a consummate familiarity as she reached easily behind her back to fasten the hook and eyes.
‘She’s got the fluidity and flexibility of a woman,’ Briony concluded as Daphne next ‘rabbit-holed’ her tights and stepped into them easily. Daphne then sensed Briony watching and she turned with an inquisitive frown.
“What?”
“What d’you mean ... what?”
“What’choo lookin' at?”
“I was just looking at you dress. You’re not a man are you? All your actions are totally feminine.”
“Well, I’m not dressing as a man am I? I’m dressing as a woman so naturally I dress as a woman does. I might suggest you do likewise. Any minute Sion is likely to come barging through that door and do you really want to let him catch you in my bed?”
Briony thought about it and grinned.
“It would probably make him happy, it’s what he wants; you as his dad. Seeing us in bed would reinforce his hopes and ambitions.”
“It would also make it difficult for him if he had to testify in court ... did you see your mummy sleeping with Mr Cadwalloder? Remember boy, you’re on oath!”
Briony was reluctant to admit Daphne had a point and eventually she slid out of the bed. After briefly visiting the loo, she sneaked back to her own bedroom and smiled with some relief to see Sion still fast asleep in their shared bed. She slipped past to the bathroom and commenced noisily showering until Sion appeared.
“Are we going to Birmingham today?” Sion asked.
Briony wasn’t sure so she rinsed off, wrapped a towel around her and instructed Sion to take a shower while she checked with Dave.
“Will he be Dave today then?” Sion wondered.
Daphne still wasn’t sure. When she had left, Daphne was in her underwear and tights, but she could just as easily have put Daves’ outer clothes on. After all she had to organise the animal care with Cledwyns’ labourer prior to departing. Her question was answered when she met Dave on the landing, dressed in an asexual chequered work shirt and a pair of vaguely girly ‘skinny type’ jeans.
“I’m starting breakfast then feeding the animals then popping down to Cledwyn to sort out the husbandry while we’re in Birmingham.”
“Oh, then we are going today.”
“Yes. Tomorrow’s New Years Eve. I want you settled into the hotel before seeing Rachel about the convention. You can go shopping all day tomorrow but I’ll be back at the hotel about sevenish tomorrow evening to get ready. The sisters are having a meal before going clubbing. Can you be ready for about elevenish to leave here?” We should be in Birmingham about twoish depending on traffic. You’ll even be able to shop this afternoon.”
Briony turned quickly around and returned to her bedroom to get the children ready. By the time Sion was dressed and Ellairy made ready, Dave had the breakfast on the table. Briony was content with fried eggs and bacon followed by some buttered toast and tea. Sion filled his belly then hurried out into the yard to join his hero feeding the animals and checking them over. They popped over to Cledwyns to organise the next few days care of the animals and when they returned, Briony was all packed and ready. It took Daphne just half an hour to get ready and when she re-appeared in the kitchen Briony was truly impressed.
“Good God girl! I’m going to have to buck my ideas up when I’m married to you. I’d never have recognised you as a man, you’re stunning girl.”
They soon loaded the land-rover and made excellent time. By two thirty, they were arriving at the hotel in Birmingham.
Briony was quietly impressed and savoured the fussing attendance of the staff as they immediately recognised Daphnes’ car.
“Ah lovely to see you again ma-am,” the concierge declared as he snapped his fingers to two porters.
“And it’s lovely to be here again Gordon, as you can see I’ve brought a companion and her children.”
Gordon the concierge was already assisting Briony with her children and suddenly Briony was pleased to realise that she nothing to lift but the rather smart handbag that Daphne had lent her. The check-in at the desk proved to be the briefest of formalities as the reception staff immediately recognised their regular guest.
“Ah! Miss Cadwalloder. Glad to see you again. A week this time is it?”
“I’m not sure yet Marjorie. The snow has made things tricky back home. It depends on the weather after January the third. However, I’m anticipating being here until the weekend if the weather holds. I’ll be phoning home to check every day.”
Briony felt a surge of pleasure at the thought of a week’s shopping apart from New Year’s Day. Daphne handed her the keys and nodded to one of the attending maids.
“Please see Miss Briony and the children to our suite I’ve just seen my colleague in the restaurant.”
Daphne made her excuses and Briony heard the rather effervescent greeting in the restaurant even as she entered the lift with the maid. When she got to their suite, the bags had already arrived and the maid immediately started sorting out Briony’s clothes. As Briony searched through her handbag for a tip the maid just turned and smiled.
“There’s absolutely no need for a tip Miss Briony, Miss Cadwalloder sees us all right at the end of each stay. I’ll be your maid for three hours each morning after you’ve finished your breakfast. In the afternoons room service will attend. Which bedroom will you be taking?”
“How many rooms are there?” Briony swallowed nervously.
“This suite had four bedrooms. Miss Daphne prefers it every time she comes, she usually takes the East bedroom; she likes the early morning sun. All the rooms have excellent views. I’m a live-in maid based permanently on this floor so I’ll be next door every night to attend to your children when you’re out. There’s an adjoining door which you can lock.
Briony and Sion toured the suite while the maid attended to Ellairy. By the time Sion had chosen a room and Briony had inspected her chosen room Ellairy was changed and ready to be fed. The maid smiled beatifically when Briony explained that Ellairy was still on the breast.
“Well madam, that’s beautiful but it’s one task I can’t perform. I’m not married yet and I have no children.”
Briony grinned and immediately set about feeding. Sion waltzed in and the maid was about to shoo him away but Briony explained.
“He’s used to it, let him stay. One thing I’d love is a cup of tea.”
The maid immediately disappeared into the kitchenette and reappeared with a tray containing a glass of milk for Sion and a pot of tea with two cups.
“One for Miss Daphne when she appears.” The maid explained.
Briony was glad of the company and nodded to the maid to pour two cups there and then.
“Have one yourself. Daphne’s got some schedules to organise with Miss Rachel and her partner. She’ll be gone a while.”
The maid visibly relaxed and settled primly to share a cup. Sion, having completed his tour of the suite, begged to go and have a wander around the hotel. Briony let him go explaining to the maid ... he wanders around miles of moorland and pasture at home. He won’t get lost.”
The maid turned, smiled and explained to Sion.
“It’s a big hotel. If you get lost, ask any member of the staff for the reception desk. And REMEMBER your room number,” She added for good measure. “You’re on the very top floor!”
Glad to be free to roam, Sion immediately disappeared and was gone for an hour before he returned accompanied by Daphne, Rachel and Shirley. Introductions were completed and Shirley immediately invited Briony to use up the remaining shopping hours. Briony was more than pleased to oblige while Daphne continued discussions with Rachel about the forthcoming LGBT convention after the New Year. It also gave Briony a chance to find out about Dave’s life from aged nineteen to the present.
Briony was delighted with the baby sitting service provided by the hotel.
‘If this is how the other half lives,’ she thought, ‘then bring it on.’
They took Sion with them and left Ellairy in the care of the crá¨che. At first Sion was reluctant until it became apparent that there were some computer games and wee games to be bought mainly on his behalf. The three of them returned foot-sore and loaded with shopping. Daphne met them with a tray of tea while Rachel was busy at the writing desk.
“How did you know to expect us?” Briony asked Daphna.
“The reception desk called me the moment you came into the foyer. They understand my little foibles. I don’t like unexpected callers.”
“Yes, Shirley talked about that. You had a bad time then.”
Daphnes’ face darkened momentarily but the smile quickly returned. It seemed that Daphne was relieved that Briony now knew of the assaults and the beatings Daphne had suffered whilst searching for safe areas to indulge her needs. It was in hospital that Rachel had found her one Sunday morning after a particularly severe attack. She had been visiting another friend who had also been beaten when the consultant had recognised Rachel and asked her to visit Daphne who was feeling frightened and very sorry for herself. When Rachel introduced Daphne to the police officer investigating the attacks, Daphne was at first terrified but slowly the officer and Rachel had calmed her down. Rachel had eventually taken Daphne under her wing and slowly, ever so slowly, Daphne had started to recover her confidence. Briony now realised that Daphne and Rachel were very close friends and they had made it their business to help other transgendered sisters who were slowly emerging from the woodwork. They had helped to set up the small office addressing the ‘Tee’ issues inside the larger office that supported the whole LGBT organisation in the city.
“Until Daphne and I got started, the ‘Tee’ in LGBT was a very small ‘tee’.” Rachel explained.
“Where are you staying?” Briony asked.
“Why here, in this suite. Shirley and I will be sharing the fourth bedroom. That’s the usual arrangement.”
“Oh. Oh sorry, I didn’t realise that.”
She looked askance at Daphne who threw up her hands in apology.
“Sorry Bri’ I forgot. You won’t mind will you?”
Briony thought about it for all of half a second then grinned.
“Not at all. The more the merrier. Shirley’s good company and she can guide me around the shops. By the way, where’s your baby?” She asked Shirley.
“With her Nan; my mother. She dotes on her, thought I’d never give her a grandchild then Rachel came along and I discovered the sort of men I liked. My mum absolutely adores Rach’, she’s often down Canal Street in Manchester having lunch with us. She likes the scene and the vibrancy. She rarely comes out at night though and she often baby-sits our Dorothy. They share the same name, Dot is named after my mum. Her other name is Angela after Rachel’s mum, she also loves her grandchild. Angela Dorothy does not go short of doting Grandmothers, she’s spoiled rotten.”
They spent the meal chatting about the transgendered scene in Birmingham until the time came for Rachel and Daphne to get booted and saddled for the clubbing scene. Briony naturally flitted between Rachel’s room and Daphne’s as she double checked on the different make-up regimes. Naturally, Sion showed a similar curiosity and after both tee-girls were reasonably respectable, Sion was allowed to watch as they put their faces on.
“I wish I was coming with you,” Sion declared as his mother started to get ready. “You and Daphne look really nice; and Rachel and Shirley. Will you be dancing?”
“Yes darling but it’s a grown up club. Sorry, but this is one place you cannot go. The maid will be baby-sitting you and Ellairy and we won’t be home until ... well I don’t know.”
Briony turned to Daphne and asked.
“What time will we be back?”
“Oh, I don’t know, early I suppose.”
Briony turned with exasperation to Sion and wagged her head in amusement before turning again to Daphne.
“What d’you mean by early. Is that early with regard to the evening’s activities, or early tomorrow morning?”
“Early tomorrow morning darling,” Daphne replied, “probably about seven or eight o’clock in the morning.”
“My God girls! Are you up on your heels all that time?”
Rachel turned and grinned as she confirmed.
“You betcha’ girl. A tranny wouldn’t be seen dead off her heels while clubbing.”
Briony smiled, shook her head and continued getting ready. Sion appeared at Daphne’s shoulder and peered into the large mirror.
“Are you staying up all night?”
“Yes darling. We’ll be home for breakfast.”
“I wish I could stay up all night.”
“I’ll bet you do. But I’ll bet more that you will be asleep by midnight.”
“Okay then. I’ll speak to Fajita the maid. She’ll keep an eye on you and we’ll see.”
“How will we know?”
“Oh I’ll know. When we’re having breakfast here tomorrow morning I’ll soon find out. Now let me finish putting my makeup on.”
Sion fell silent and watched as Daphne showed the same expertise as Briony. When she stood up Sion grinned.
“There we are, nearly finished.”
“You look exactly like a beautiful girl. I wouldn’t know you were; you know.”
Daphne bent down and kissed Sion on the cheek as she replied.
“Why thank you darling. That’s just about the nicest thing you could say. Mmmmwahh!”
Sion blushed then turned to look in the mirror. He saw the scarlet lipstick mark and wondered whether to wipe it off or not.
“I’m going to keep it on as a sign that you love me.”
“What all the way through until breakfast?” Daphne grinned. “You don’t need any signs that I love you kid. Your Briony’s son and that’s enough to make me love you. Still keep it on if you want. I’m just going to touch my lipstick up and fix it so I don’t leave any more telltale signs.”
Sion watched Daphne apply the fixer and then asked.
“What does that do?”
“It stops my lipstick coming off like it did on your cheek.”
“Can you put some on my kiss mark to make it stay?”
“Check with your mum first.”
Sion scampered off and returned with the requisite permission. Daphne applied the clear liquid and made Sion wait. Seconds later the kiss mark was secured. It would stay until morning. Sion grinned and boldly marched into Rachel and Shirley’s room.
“Look. Daphne kissed me. She loves me.”
Fortunately Rachel and Shirley were also just about ready so there were no embarrassing incidents. Nevertheless, Briony scolded him.
“We’ve told you before young man, don’t just walk into a lady’s bedroom. Knock and wait!”
“Sorry mummy. I forgot. Daphne just walked in earlier.”
“Daphne and Rachel are good friends and they’re both girls. You are a boy.”
“And a cracking kid as well.” Daphne added as she fitted her final piece of jewellery.
“Well, are we all ready?”
They all nodded and Briony phoned Fajita the maid. She appeared almost immediately through the adjoining door and prepared Sion some drinking chocolate. After farewell kisses, the four girls minced out of the room and strutted to the lift.
The Ram 17
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A chapter where Briony visits an LGBT nightclub and gets a revealing insight into another side of Daphne's life.
The Ram 17
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby) Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
The Ram 17
Briony was pleased that a taxi was waiting at the hotel entrance for inevitably the rain had started again. She had purchased a new outfit with stunning four-inch heels and she did not want to ruin them before she’d even got to the gay village around Hurst Street. She could not help but notice the dozens of eyes that followed them through the foyer. She also could not fail to notice that Daphne AND Rachel looked stunning, perched on five inch heels with legs that certainly went ‘all the way’.
‘Why did tee-girls have to have such well defined and slender legs?
It seemed as though mini-dresses and tights were just screaming to be worn by them. Briony also found herself being emboldened by Daphne and Rachel as they strutted towards the taxi with nary a jot of concern or fear. They thanked the doorman so casually that it seemed to Briony as if they did this kind of thing every night. She turned to Shirley and wagged her head in amazement.
“They don’t seem to give a toss do they?”
“This isn’t Llanidloes or Machynlleth Bri’. No inbred bumptious farm-boys with prejudices as thick as their heads. This is Brum darling, second only to Manchester for LGBT tolerance. Come on, get in, there’s clubbing to be done.”
As Briony settled in a corner seat, Rachel gave the driver instructions.
“The Melancholy Pussy, please driver.” Rachel declared to the driver.
Briony spluttered with amusement as the driver acknowledged without a single reaction.
“Bloody hell. Who though that name up?” She asked.
“Uuuhm, I did actually.” Rachel ‘confessed’.
“You!?. What did you have to do with it and how on earth did you come by that idea?”
“Long story, get Daphne to tell you sometime. She does it better than I do.”
Briony turned to Daphne who smiled. “Not yet darling, wait until eight o’clock in the morning.”
Briony frowned, shrugged and resolved to pursue the question the next morning.
‘But not at eight o-bloody’ clock’, she told herself.
The taxi threaded its way through the evening traffic and eventually disgorged them under a canopy that erupted over the pavement by dint of a small lay-by cut into the sidewalk between two trees. Briony stepped out into a well-lit pool of light that cast a pinkish glow over everything that fell within its influence. Then she looked up into the entrance foyer and noted there were several levels inside. The club seemed to stretch up and back forever; not to mention down into the very bowels of Birmingham. It was a huge place. Next she studied the clubbers queuing eagerly along the pavement, (sidewalk to our transatlantic sisters.) The queue stretched around the block and most of the clubbers were dressed flamboyantly.
“I’m thinking this is a clear sign that it’s a gay club.” She called to Daphne over the lively chatter that erupted from the queue waiting to get in.
“Not exactly, more like an LGBT club. Come on, stay close to me.”
After being whisked by the bouncers through the press of bodies Briony found the four of them standing in an oasis of calm to the side of the main foyer. A throbbing beat was rumbling from down below and Briony was wondering how they got in so easily. Before she got an answer, a door opened to the side of their personal oasis and Rachel promptly ushered Briony through it. Shirley followed close behind but Daphne stayed talking to the manager who was formally dressed in a white tuxedo and bow tie. Rachel opened a drinks cabinet and offered Briony a drink.
“What’s your poison?”
“Oh! Nothing alcoholic; not this early anyway. I’ll have to pace myself if I’m to last to eight o’clock.”
“Good girl. Diet coke okay?”
“Tonic water I think.”
Rachel reached into the cabinet and promptly arranged Briony’s drink.
“Let’s go down to the office. Daphne’ll be a while yet.”
Shirley led the way down a stairs that obviously paralleled the main stairway but it was separated by a concrete wall. Briony quickly realised she was in a private part of the club as she passed a dressing room with several drag queens getting ready. next she saw a woman counting money and another tapping away on a computer.
Briony surmised 'Obviously they were ‘back-stage’ or in the admin section
Then Shirley opened another door to reveal a pleasant rest room with chairs, a table and private lavatories. She wondered how or why she had been brought to what was obviously the very private heart of the club; well separated from the loud raucous public places that obviously lay out past the stage to the left and through another steel door into the dance area. She turned to Rachel.
“Have you got some pull or something with the management?”
Rachel looked mildly surprised and replied.
“Don’t you know?”
“Know what?”
Tell her Shirl’, Daphne’s obviously been hiding her light under a bushel.”
Shirley frowned in puzzlement then explained.
“Uuuhm Briony ... Don’t you know? Daphne owns the Melancholy Pussy.”
“What!”
“She’s the owner, you know, ‘Le Patron’, the boss, the big cheese. She owns it, lock stock and barrel.”
Briony was struck dumb as her jaw worked to make words. Her mind turned back to the huge jostling queue on the sidewalk and she did some quick calculations. There must have been hundreds waiting to get in and there were probably hundreds more already inside. She had seen the entrance charge displayed at the main door and the maths was easy. ‘Daphne was making thousands of pounds per night simply on the entrance fees alone!’
She sipped her drink thoughtfully as she settled into one of the comfortable armchairs then she waited for Daphne to appear. Outside she heard some ribaldry between Daphne and one of the drag queens then a loud cheer from the club auditorium. Somebody had obviously taken the stage. Rachel stepped forward to activate one of the security screens and Briony was surprised to see Daphne compeering the introduction to the clubbers. Obviously, Daphne was in her element. She made a few wise-cracks then introduced the main compere for the evening. She was a drag-queen that Briony had seen on national television. Her eyes popped disbelievingly as she finally realised the size of Daphne’s operation. She turned again to Rachel.
“Bloody hell! She's a the secretive little minx! She’s never mentioned any of this! And you say all this is hers?”
“Well ... well yes. It is actually. And you say she’s never mentioned it to you?”
“No. Not a whisper, not a word. She sure keeps things under her hat doesn’t she?”
With that, the door from the stage opened and Daphne burst in while laughing at some remark that had been made by one of the drag queens in the changing rooms. Briony could see that Daphne was already on a high.
“Well! The funs’ started girls, and it’s only December the thirtieth. Roll on tomorrow night eh.” She turned innocently to Briony and smiled. “You up for some dancing girl?”
Briony could hardly refuse. There and then was neither the place nor the time to ask about the club.
‘Those questions would have to wait,’ she had to tell herself for about the fourth time that night. She set her drink aside on an occasional table, placed her clutch bag alongside Shirley’s’ and the others inside the desk by the wall then the four of them sallied forth onto the dance floor.
The noise of the thumping beat hit her like a wave as she stepped through the door. She hadn’t realised how effective the sound-proofing was in what was obviously Daphne’s office.
Before Briony had even taken her first few steps she saw Daphne going large in the middle of the dance floor. She was throwing herself about with total abandon and Rachel was almost mirroring the hectic activity. If the deafening beat had allowed, Briony would have asked Shirley if they danced like that all night but talking was a hopeless endeavour. For want of anything else, Briony fell into the beat and started swaying in harmony with the music. As her eyes became accustomed to the negligible lighting interrupted with powerful strobes flashes, Briony began to recognise other tee-girls dancing wildly around the floor.
‘These girls certainly knew how to party, extrovert and flamboyant hardly covers it', she grinned to herself as her grin became an almost permanent fixture.
Eventually she began to feel weary and she sidled over to some occasional seats in a corner where she could sit and watch the furious activity. She could not believe just how frenetic the tee-girls were and she resolved to ask Daphne at some suitable opportunity. Eventually, she sensed a person looming over her and she affirmed it was Daphne who was signing ‘upstairs’ with her finger because speech was still impossible with the deafening noise.
Briony got to her feet and hobbled, slightly painfully up the stairs as she followed Daphne and a forest of superbly shaped legs, all belonging to Tee-girls. After three flights of stairs Briony found herself in new, calmer territory where the sound of the music was all but inaudible. At last she could talk.
Sadly this luxury was denied her at first while the tee-girls caught up on gossip and generally chatted about friends who’d made it to the festivities. On all sides Briony heard various questions and answers describing who had come, who was coming and who was not. Eventually Daphne re-appeared at her side.
“You’ve ignored me all night!” Briony complained a little peevishly.
“Yes darling and I’m sorry. I had to catch up on all the gossip and chat with friends. Tomorrow night I will devote my entire time to you but tonight, it’s all about playing ‘mine host’, sorry about that. I have to keep abreast of the scene to keep the club popular. If it begins to feel jaded, people stop coming.”
“That’s something I was going to ask you; how many people come here in one night?”
Daphne wrinkled her brow and sucked her lips.
“'Bout a thousand on average. It’s a big place. At a crush, like tomorrow night, there’ll be about two thousand.”
“Two thousand!” Briony almost screeched as she did a rapid calculation. “That’s ... twenty thousand quid in a night!”
“Well; yes,” Daphne confirmed, “but there’s a lot of overhead, wages, artists fees, maintenance, insurance; you name it. The first drink is free, the entertainments licenses cost thousands a year. Every parasite in the city wants’ a piece of the action.”
At this Rachel appeared at Daphne’s shoulder. She had been ear-wigging the conversation.
“We even have to hire armed police guards after that business in Manchester. They’re very discreet but they’re there and they’re expensive. They’re on overtime; you’ll meet the inspector somewhere in the club. He’s in uniform and it helps to deter drugs. That’s not to say there are no drugs. It’s almost impossible to prevent them. Daphne has to pay for anything up to six armed guards who patrol the club and the street outside. A drive-by shooting would be a catastrophe for the whole village. The police keep the place clear and they enjoy the odd sortie into the club as they rotate duties.”
“Drive by shooting!” Briony swallowed nervously. “Is that likely?”
“Can’t say,” Rachel continued as Daphne thoughtfully sipped a coke through the ubiquitous straw, “but the criminal element would lu-urve to get its hands on this club; on the whole village in fact. The pink pound is very wealthy so gays and more especially tee-girls, come from all over seeking anonymity in the crowds. They want anonymity and safety so we do our best to offer that. Despite what people think, Tee girls are still vulnerable to abuse and prejudice, not to mention discrimination.
There was one case a few years ago where one of the girls inadvertently met her gay line manager at a club in the village and the gay boss tried to get her sacked at work the very next Monday. It was a national department store chain in Birmingham, you know, one that sells everything.
Neither knew about the other’s circumstances until that fateful meeting and the gay boss eventually admitted to the tribunal that he thought she would ‘out’ him at work. Then he told an even worse lie by suggesting that she was stealing stock from the ladies clothing department. It wasn’t true of course but it nearly destroyed her. It sounds incredible but it was true. He had prejudged her without even talking to her about it. She kept her job only because the higher management were more open-minded and somebody pointed out that she seemed to have a remarkable record in sales. I all came out of course when she was forced to admit that her transvestism enabled her to understand women’s fashions and thus she was able to sell to women as a sympathetic, understanding man. Women shoppers loved her.
This was before the latest transphobic legislation of course. However, she never trusted her line manager again. Eventually the gay moved to another branch and peace returned when she was promoted. The upshot was; the girls at her place of work became immensely supportive because her case had finally cleared up a lot of issues surrounding prejudice. That’s the reality for girls like us Briony and there’s still a lot of shit out there.”
Daphne put down her coke and added.
“That’s what this convention is all about. Rachel is the organiser and I’ll be attending for the first Monday and Tuesday, then I’ve got to return to the farm.”
Rachel interrupted.
“That’s not to say Daphne is disinterested. This club acts as a Mecca for young-uns just coming out and they invariably find their way here. The usually turn up during the day when the village is quiet and they’re feeling their way. I have a companion, one of the drag queens, Margo who works from here and keeps an eye out for the drifters. This club is open more or less twenty-four hours except Sundays. She helps any frightened waifs and strays who have usually struggled to get here and sometimes run away from home. They turn up in the village and invariably find their way here, sometimes by word of mouth, sometimes by the internet, sometimes just luck or a lot of searching. Daphne works closely with the local police and this club supports a small flat run by Margo who lives in. She helps to liaise between the police, social services and the kids’ families. That’s Daphne’s contribution, she provides the funds and Margo provides the support. So you see, we all try to do our bit.”
Briony began to view Daphne in an even newer light. Apparently, the kindness and care she had shown Briony after the crash was a primordial part of Daphne’s nature, ‘It must be if she was as philanthropical towards total strangers as she had been to her,’ Briony concluded. She stood up, stepped over to Daphne and threw her arms about Daphne’s neck.
“You’re really sweet, d’you know that?”
Daphne responded by progressing the kiss to a passionate snog and Briony had no qualms about it. Rachel and Shirley just grinned.
The snog was only interrupted when a familiar voice sounded from across the room.
“Put her down Briony, you don’t know where she’s been!”
Briony spun around and squeaked with delight.
“Blod! I thought you were coming tomorrow!”
“Couldn’t resist could I? It’s jumping downstairs. If it’s like this tonight, what’s it going to be like tomorrow?” She turned to Daphne after Briony released her from her embrace.
“Hope you’ve booked extra bouncers.”
Daphne nodded then added.
“It’s an all ticket affair tomorrow. Two thousand tickets, that’s the club’s limit. Bobby the manager has organised the door cover. Superintendant Marlow has also organised a private ‘works party’ here so there’ll be about fifty coppers with wives, girlfriends, husbands and boyfriends, partying in the blue bar next to the dance floor. They’ll be using the back entrance for their own convenience and they’ll be useful back-up for the bouncers, I think you’ll agree.”
Blodwen turned to briony and grinned.
“You see! She thinks of everything.”
Shirley laughed then commanded the group.
“Come on, time for more dancing I think.”
By mutual agreement the tee-girl herd moved as one down the stairs to the dance floor and created a spectacular appearance as they invaded. Briony had never enjoyed herself so much as her own gyrations were totally eclipsed by the wild effervescence of Daphne’s friends. Eventually, she was glad to stumble into Daphne’s private office just to rest her feet and avail herself of the drinks cabinet. As she slumped into the welcoming armchair Rachel appeared to also get herself a drink.
“Feet sore darling?”
Briony nodded happily and kicked off her heels with relief. It was only one o’clock.
Rachel looked at Briony smiled and giggled.
“Girls, they just don’t have the stamina.”
Briony was too tired to argue and Rachel left her no opportunity as she knocked back her diet coke and disappeared out of the door to resume dancing again. When Briony next woke, she felt Daphne tugging gently at her arm, it was four o’clock.
“Come on lazy bones. There’s a celebration for you to attend.”
Briony struggled to wake and mumbled sleepily.
“What?”
“Blodwen’s announcing her civil partnership to Victoria. This has become an engagement party.”
Celebrations of marriages and births were meat and drink to Briony and she sprang to wakefulness immediately. Daphne led her to the upstairs quiet area where several dozen tee-girls and assorted partners were gathered together and holding glasses of champagne. Daphne took two flutes of champagne and passed one to Briony.
“To toast the happy brides darling.”
Then Daphne was called upon to make the toast. She made a brief funny speech then invited everybody to toast the couple. Next Rachel demanded a few words followed by another toast and finally Blodwen, then Victoria replied to their friends. After enduring a gauntlet hugs and kisses the pair escaped down to Daphne’s office followed by Daphne, Briony, Rachel and Shirley. There the friends had a chance to discuss future plans and dates whilst chatting until nearly six o’clock. Finally, Daphne scolded herself first and then her friends.
“My God! Look at the time! We should be up on the dance floor. We’ve only got a couple of hours clubbing left. Come on, you as well Bri’. Can’t have you spoiling the Daphne tradition, never in bed before eight.”
“There were a few small groans but inevitably the friends all rallied around and spilled out onto the dance floor. The city hall clock was just striking eight o’clock as their taxi emerged from the village and slipped away to the hotel. The distance was small but Briony was pretty sure she would never have managed it in heels. Her feet were torturing her but it was a happy pain. Briony had never spent such an enjoyable night and not once had she been pestered or felt threatened. In the taxi, she hugged Daphne tight as they giggled over funny events from the night before. Rachel and Shirley smiled benevolently as they saw a mother seemingly emerging like a butterfly from its pupae. Gone were the eyes hooded with fear, the crouched, nervous demeanour that so betrayed abused women. Briony was learning to fly again. Finally Briony remembered her question from the evening before.
“So Daphne Cadwalloder, how did the club get its name, ‘The Melancholy Pussy?”
Daphne grinned and explained.
“Well Rachel thought of it, apparently she’d been to Naples to see the ruins of Pompeii and there was a bar in Pompeii called ‘The Melancholy Elephant’ and the sign outside survived the Vesuvius Eruption. It must have been set in a stone mosaic or something.
When archaeologists discovered it they had a good chuckle and various theories were proposed as to how it got its name. Naturally the most popular theory was that the Landlord probably sold very strong beer or very bad beer. Inevitably when the drunken patron emerged he was probably badly hung over and felt as though he had a head like an elephant! Naturally that head was full of remorse or regrets so he left feeling like a melancholy elephant.
In the early days, before we opened our club we would often see unhappy girls who hadn’t scored despite all the gorgeous men around them. Some of them perhaps not realising they were in the gay village. It was only later, when they realised where they were, that they were full of regrets because they had not satisfied their appetites. To put it crudely they had ‘Melancholy Pussies’.
The name stuck and there you have it, the sad girls who were regretting that they couldn’t pull all the seemingly gorgeous talent around them and then realising why.”
Briony smirked and thumped Daphne affectionately.
“You’re awful! There’s a dark side to you, I’m only just learning about.”
“I did warn you,” Daphne grinned, “though it’s not so much a darks side as a wild side.”
Briony snuggled closer and lay curled into the crook of Daphne’s arm until the taxi pulled into the hotel forecourt. She hobbled delicately up the steps as Daphne paid off the taxi then they made straight for the lifts. Briony realised she was just sore, not tired. The enjoyment of the evening had left her invigorated. This was a life she could get to enjoy but her feet were screaming to come down off her heels.
As they staggered out of the lift, Sion was just waking up as the maid greeted them at the door to their suite. Briony grinned guiltily as the maid smiled knowingly.
“Miss Daphne know how to enjoy, yes?”
Briony’s grin widened as she nodded sheepishly.
“You had a good time then?” The maid asked.
“You bet!”
The Ram 18
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A chapter that describes the New-years-eve preparations before the party at The Melancholy Pussy.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 18
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby) Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth Briony’s sister.
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita The maid.
Faux fur jacket and skinny jeans on a windy day at the seaside.
The Ram 18
As Briony slumped into the welcome arm chair, Sion came bounding across demanding to know if his mum had enjoyed. She smiled and hugged him as the maid appeared with Ellairy. Briony had a giggling fit as she struggled to slip her LBD down past her breasts and attach Ellairy to her nipple. In the end, Shirley had to hold Ellairy while Briony shimmied the dress down to her waist. She then settled back to feed her daughter while Sion sat to the table as the maid served up his breakfast. The maid looked askance at Briony and it was obvious she was surprised that Briony was quite prepared to feed her daughter in front of her eight-year-old son. She eventually realised that Sion was completely inured to the sweet intimacy between his mother and his sister. As he wolfed down his breakfast, he peppered Briony with questions.
“Where there other girls like Daphne and Rachel?”
“Yes, lots,” Briony confirmed, “and they were all as nice as these two.”
She explained as her glance encompassed the tee-girl pair.
Daphne and Rachel grinned affectionately as they shared a coffee with Shirley and the maid. Briony noted that the maid seemed to temporarily promoted to status of Nanny insofar as she was invited to share food with the guests, rather like nannies of the Victorian days would sometimes attend the evening meal with the family, if only to supervise the children at table. They still ate the same food at the same table.
“I’d love to go there,” Sion sighed, “just to see.”
“Well, I’m afraid you’re far too young. “You’ll have to wait until you’re eighteen before you can go into those clubs because they can’t serve you alcohol until you’re eighteen with a proper I.D. That rule is strictly enforced in the clubs. It’s a general policy.” Daphne told him firmly. “You’ve got another ten years before you can come.” clubbing with us.”
Daphne turned to Briony and explained while Sion ear-wigged.
“Young gays and tee-people are extremely vulnerable; we try to protect them in the village.”
“I noticed.” Briony replied. “Do you have anything to do with that little cafe on the opposite corner of the cross? I saw several young people in there.”
“Yes. That’s the alcohol free zone and I’m glad you noticed it’s well lit. The tea and coffee is free to kids between twelve and eighteen. We have lots of lost kids turning up there, often homeless, usually frightened and always hungry. The police and the charities supervise its operation while some of the more philanthropical club owners help with the financing. When I first came here, there were gay and tee-kids, begging ... or worse, on the streets. Lots of the tee-girls have been there or somewhere like it when they were kids. I was one of the lucky ones.” Daphne finished.
“Here, here,” Rachel added softly.
Briony recognised the intensity in Rachel’s demeanour. It was obvious that Rachel had ‘been there.’ They carried on chatting until, eventually, Briony finished feeding Ellairy and the long night began to take its toll. Briony felt her eyelids getting heavy and she shook her head momentarily. Fajita stepped over and took Ellairy from her arms as Daphne smiled indulgently,
“No stamina, these ‘R-Gee’s’ have they Rach’? Falling asleep already.”
Briony looked up and pouted angrily.
“It’s all right for you ‘T-Gee’s. You haven’t got to produce milk. This takes blood!”
“Oops, sorry love, wish I could save you the effort.”
“With those tits she probably could,” Rachel teased.
“Watchit! Daphne grinned then the grin faded to a thoughtful introspection. “You never know, bit of prolactin maybe.”
“Yeah, well not this time, she’s nearly weaned.” Briony observed, therefore curtailing any further speculation. “So, I’m for a nap, what are you girls doing?”
“Well, I’ll be going with Fajita to take Sion out. He can’t stay cooped up here all day.” Daphne declared.
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Briony wondered.
Daphne and Rachel smirked then spluttered. Finally Daphne replied.
“Not likely girl. This is News Year’s eve. This morning I’m running Fajita and Sion to a children’s party at the Safari park then this afternoon, I’ve got to get the club ready for tonight. Meanwhile Rachel’s got a few last wrinkles to sort out for the convention.”
Briony gasped.
“When do you guys sleep?”
“Tomorrow when you guys are enjoying the New-year’s-day sales.”
So saying, Daphne nodded to Fajita who prepared Sion for the party while Daphne changed from her LBD into some skinny jeans, ug-boots and a faux-fur jacket. When she emerged, Briony realised Daphne would still ‘pass’. She checked with Sion who was obviously at ease with Daphne’s appearance. Boys of his age would normally be hypersensitive to being seen with a tranny. There was not the remotest sign of masculinity about Daphne. Having gained acceptance, Daphne then asked.
“D’you want us to take Ellairy or will she stay here with you?”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. Are you happy to take her?”
Fajita smiled.
“I look after baby Mrs Briony. No problem. Daphne, she drive.”
Having been re-assured, Briony gave her consent and sighed wistfully as they stepped out. Had she not been so knackered, she’d have gone with them.
‘Just where did this girl Daphne get the stamina?’ She asked herself.
As she finished off her morning tea, Rachel made her excuses while Shirley yawned to indicate her tiredness.
“I’m for bed as well. Dunno’ where those two get it from. See you for lunch; ‘bout one-ish.”
Within minutes, Briony was abed. She woke up to find Shirley tapping her shoulder.
“Come on girl, it’s half one. They’ll be back in a minute.”
Briony sat up with a jerk.
“God! Is it that time already?”
Shirley grinned.
“You must have been shattered. Can’t think why, you slept for a couple of hours in the club last night. You’d better get some more sleep in this afternoon. It’s going to be really wild tonight; all the amateurs will be out.”
Briony pictured the scene and grinned.
“Yeah, men in frocks.”
Shirley’s grin faded slightly.
“Don’t let Rachel hear you say that. She’s very defensive of her less fortunate sisters. Not everybody can pass. That’s why she runs this convention. It’s to educate those who have to deal with the transgendered community. It’s not easy being ‘trans’ you know. Daphne’s really lucky having an isolated house out in Wales. Most of the sisters have to live with neighbours, and lots of those neighbours are; well, I don’t have to lay it out do I?”
“Bigots or bullies,” Briony finished somewhat chastened by Shirley’s very mild admonishment. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“What’s the house like? Daphne’s place that is.”
Briony looked up as she remembered.
“Oh of course! You’ve never seen it have you?”
Shirley wagged her head.
“No. Rachel’s going to check it out when the convention’s over. I’m back to Manchester by train tomorrow night then coming down with my baby and Daphne’s older children on the Friday afternoon.”
“Oh, so she’s seeing them again.”
“Yes. The social workers have had to agree, James the oldest, is technically free to see his dad at any time and Tara his sister had one hell of a row with her mother. Threatened to run away if they didn’t let her see him. They say she swore at the judge at the hearing a few weeks ago and when he threatened to send her down to the cells for a night she told him at least that would mean a night away from the bitch. He wasn’t impressed with her attitude but I think he got the message ... and she did spend the night in the cells. James and Tara won’t be separated, leastways not as far as living goes. They wanted to spend Christmas with us but the judge wouldn’t allow that, however he did give Tara permission to see her dad at least once a month, from now until her birthday in June the custody order has expired for James, he’s free anyway but he chooses to support Tara. They were always close but Rachel’s divorce brought them even closer together.”
“Does that mean you and all the children will be coming with Rachel for the weekend?”
“Why; yes. I thought you knew that.”
“Well I knew Rachel was coming. She and Daphne were thinking of organising soirees or something, transgendered meetings, country weekends.”
“That’s the plan, so what’s the house like.”
Briony could only tell the truth.
“Well. It’s quite big; well, very big actually. It’s got about ten large bedrooms six of them en-suite and then there’s another
five smaller bedrooms on the upper landing in the main block. There’s even a small turret with a tiny little bedroom that gives a view right across the hills to Plynllimon.”
“And is it as remote as they say?”
“Hell yes, apart from Blodwen's dads' farm which is about a mile down the road, there’s nothing else for about five miles in either direction. It’s also got its own lane that sets it about a quarter a mile from the only road.”
“So it’s not overlooked then, nobody can see the gardens and stuff.”
“Only the bloody kites, buzzards and ravens. I’m telling you Shirley, it’s as remote as any Scottish castle.”
“Sounds like just the place for a trans weekend.”
“Who’s going to cater for these weekends?”
“Rachel is up for organising all that. She’s got several sub friends who are prepared to be maids.”
“What cooking and stuff?”
“Everything, cleaning, bedding, supplying the food, everything.”
“So Daphne won’t be over-worked or anything.”
“Daphne will be like ‘lady muck’ ... lording it over everybody, lady of the manor, mine hostess, you name it. Rachel and her friends are a hardworking band and they’ve been looking for a safe venue for some time. Daphne’s house sounds just the place.”
Briony felt a little apprehensive, Daphne had mentioned that she was inviting Rachel to check the house out but she’d no idea what Daphne had meant by parties. She needed to speak to Daphne as soon as -. Shirley seemed to be talking about, twenty five people or so per party. The logistics were frightening. She stirred her tea thoughtfully as Shirley sensed Briony was not altogether happy.
When Daphne and Fajita returned with Sion and Ellairy, Sion was full of news. It was nearly twenty minutes before Briony took Daphne aside and asked about the parties. Daphne admitted she had little idea about organising such occasions so she asked if Briony wanted to talk to Rachel.
“I’ll speak to her Later,” Briony replied, “you didn’t tell me that Rachel was bringing her children next weekend.”
“I told you Rachel was coming after the convention.”
“Yes, but I thought it was just Rachel and her wife.”
“Yes, well she only phoned me the other day; I forgot to mention it to you. They only received the news about the hearing just before Christmas. Rachel and I organised her inspection a couple of months ago. I mentioned that to you. The other bit just slipped my mind. You’re not angry are you?”
Briony realised that she had only known Daphne since Christmas Eve so she was hardly in a position to object.
“Well, no, I’m just a bit apprehensive. Will these parties be, you know ... respectable? You understand, the children.”
“I don’t know; you’d have to ask Rachel. Nothing’s been fixed yet.”
Briony felt a small surge of relief. If nothing had been fixed, she might have some leverage in laying down any boundaries. She had seen some of the tee-girl outfits at The Melancholy Pussy the previous night and she wasn’t entirely sure that Sion or indeed, any children under sixteen should be seeing such stuff. She decided to chat to Rachel that very evening while Daphne had her regular talk with the club manager. That afternoon, she and Shirley went shopping with Fajita who looked after Ellairy in the pram. They also planned to take a somewhat reluctant Sion along but he cheered up when he learned they were looking for more computer games for him. Shirley explained that she thought Briony should be encouraging Sion to mix with his own contemporaries but Briony explained that Daphne’s house was so isolated there were no children living for miles and the only place he would meet other children would be school. She explained that Daphne and Blodwen had been exceptionally lucky that they had each other all through their school years. If Sion lived at Plas Graig Las, (And it looked as though they would eventually would.) then Sion would be quite a lonely child.
“Well so will you Bri’,” Shirley added, “if it’s as remote as you say.”
“Oh it’s remote alright,” Briony finished.
“What will you do for company?”
“Well my sister Elsbeth lives in Machynlleth and her children are Sion’s age, give or take. One of his cousins is a year older and the other two are a year and three years younger so they’ll be able to stay over, provided there are no issues about Dave and Daphne.”
Shirley’s face clouded as she cautioned Briony.
“That’s important Bri’, the Daphne — Dave thing will be make and break if you do settle together. I warn you now; you will never be able to separate Dave from Daphne.”
Briony asked thoughtfully.
“Do you see them as Daphne first and Dave second or vice-versa?”
“Well you saw Daphne in the club was she happy or was she happy?”
“Yee-ees, Briony replied thoughtfully. I see what you mean ... definitely Daphne first.”
Shirley gave a wry smile and nodded.
“No contest girl. Believe me, I’ve been there. I’m married to Rachel not Richard. Come on then we’ve some shopping to do if we’re to look good for tonight.”
“Wish I could get my hair done but it’s too late for an appointment now.”
Shirley grinned.
“No it isn’t girl. This is a first-class international hotel. As a guest you get priority at the hair salon just off the shopping lobby. Just tell them your suite number and bingo, you’re straight in. I’ll take Sion shopping if you want. Is he comfortable with strangers?”
Briony smiled and Shirley saw the evident relief in Briony’s demeanour as she replied.
“He is now, ever since meeting Dave and Daphne. The grin has hardly left his face.”
“Yes, I did notice. Well, we’ll go shopping then you can order a taxi and meet us by the Bull-ring after you’ve had your hair done. There’s a cracking stylist called Naomi and she gives excellent advice. Ask for her; as a guest of the imperial suite, they’ll do all they can to oblige. Daphne tips well and they know it.
Thus they separated and met later at the bull-ring.
“Well that’s a lovely style. You look like some delightful young thin just out of her teens.” Shirley grinned as she noted Briony’s hair. “Have you had extensions?”
“Yes and a tint. You won’t believe it; guess who came in just as I was getting finished up?”
“I’m guessing Daphne.” Shirley grinned again.
“And your other half.” Briony added.
“Yes, she did say earlier, everybody wants to look good for tonight.”
“What about you?”
“I just undo my pony-tail and brush it out. You’ll see. Naomi does a good job.”
Briony couldn’t help but agree as she glanced at her reflection in a shop window.
Thus they spent another hour before Briony’s mobile rang. She double checked before answering.
“Daphne, how’s your hair?”
“Nearly done darling. Don’t forget, we’re booked for a meal at six. I’ve got to be back at the club by seven.”
Briony had mixed feelings. She was totally enjoying the shopping spree but a meal at the hotel’s superb restaurant was not to be missed either. The weekend was going swimmingly.
The Ram 19
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The new year celebrations commence and Briony finds much enjoyment at Daphne's club. They are enjoying a quiet momen on the front balcony when calamity strikes.
The outfit Daphne was wearing. (Modelled by Bev.)
(P.S. I am NOT 6'8" tall!!! That doorway is only 5'7" high. Don't even begin to ask who lives there but it was a private party. I've go some strange friends. XXX Bev.)
The Welsh Mountain Ram 19.
Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby) Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth Briony’s sister.
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita The maid.
James & Tara Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
After the meal, the four friends retired to the suite to dress for the evening. As a treat, Sion was allowed to attend the fun except for the intimate dressing scenes. He was allowed to attend the beforehand fun as the friends selected their outfits but he was not allowed in Rachels or Daphne’s bedrooms until they were clothed or at least wearing their dresses. He was fascinated as the girls all gathered to do their makeup in Daphne’s room because she had the biggest dressing table mirror. Finally as jewellery and accessories were finalised he stood amazed as the girls lined up for a photograph by Fajita. Naturally Sion demanded to be photographed with them and they duly obliged. When they finally departed, Sion was a little despondent that the party atmosphere had departed with the girls. Fajita was hard put to console him.
“I wish I could go. They looked really happy ... and pretty.” Sion sighed.
“Well you’re too young yet young man. You’ll have to grow up.”
Downstairs the four girls caused something of a stir amongst some organisations that had booked the hotel function rooms for their New Year parties. Several comments were muttered by the ‘tuxedo crowd’ as the four strutted boldly towards the main entrance to await their pre-ordered, stretch limousine.
One group of ‘bow-tied’ Round Tabler’s even had the temerity to try and ostracise them for their ‘objectionable behaviour’ but Rachel gave more than she got when she told them to mind their own business or businesses.
“You’re just a bunch of immature jocks who think they own the city, well you don’t. You go to your bash and we’ll go to ours, so goodnight! Oh! And a happy new year!”
With that the limousine arrived and amidst much laughing and ribaldry the four girls set off totally ignoring the censorious looks from the ‘penguins’ and their peacocks posing and posturing at the hotel doors. Daphne looked back contemptuously and sneered.
“Bugger them! We’re not harming them.”
Briony could not have agreed more. She was beginning to see why Rachel was such a fervent campaigner for ‘transgender rights’. It was obvious there was a long way to go.
In the village the scene was already getting lively and the limmo had to pick its way slowly through the crowd. The streets were not packed yet but Briony could see that they were already busier than the previous evening. The limmo had to set them down several yards from the Melancholy Pussy’s doors and many eyes turned as the girls emerged.
“They must think we’re celebrities or something”, Briony observed.
“Just put your head down and make a beeline for the entrance. The bouncers will sort you out.” Daphne advised as she paid off the limmo and agreed a ‘pick-up’ time.
Briony took the advice but it was still a scrum to make it to the doors intact. As the four entered, Briony heard several objections from the unfortunate ticketless optimists crowding at the door.
“How come they’re allowed in?” Seemed to be the most common chorus.
“Because she owns the club mate, simple as that.” A powerful looking bouncer announced.
“What! She owns the club! But she looked like a bloody tranny.”
“She is a tranny mate but she still owns this club. And now you’ll definitely not be welcome. You might as well try your luck at another club before they all fill up.”
Briony turned to watch ‘the voice’ pushing his way through the crowd while cursing.
“He wasn’t very happy,” she said to Shirley as Daphne; once again fell to chatting with the manager.”
“Yeah it gets quite tasty on busy nights and this is the busiest of the year. There’s always a load of chancers; some get lucky if the ticket holders are not here by half eleven but the bouncers get to know the trouble makers and it’s a case of ‘If in doubt, keep em out,’ See those two guys by the ticket booth?”
Briony turned to study two serious faced guys then turned back to Shirley.
“Yes. What about them?”
“Armed police. There’s gonna be a lot of money sloshing around tonight. That’s cash not credit cards. Ticket holders have booked their tickets on line then they pay the remainder at the booth. Saves on the cash risk while giving others a chance if ticket holders haven’t turned up by the deadline. When ticket holders do arrive late, they can go in up to eleven fifty but after that, the standby queue gets to come in until the two thousand limit is complete. The late ticket-holders get a refund.”
“What about drug-dealers and stuff, bad boys and that?”
“The bouncers know most of them, though a few get through. That’s why we have plain-clothes cops patrolling the club. Dealers‘ll always get through the screens, hence the patrols. If you see them in action ejecting dealers it’s a sight I can promise you. Smooo-oooth as silk. Straight out the back door.”
“Don’t they arrest them?”
“Yes, outside after confirming with security that they’ve got video evidence. There are cameras all over the club. But they're clever and the hide their deals. If there's no pictures, they’re just told not to come back.”
“And still they try,” Briony sighed as they went into Daphne’s office.
“There’s a lot of money in it. This street is awash with drugs despite everything. Anyway, you’d best get your feet up for a couple of hours, Daphne’s got a hundred and one things to sort before she can be with you.”
“And I thought she was going to stay by me all night.” Briony sulked slightly.
“She’ll be here for the New Year, just be patient, she's really busy. Go for a walk around the whole club before it fills up.” Rachel offered.
Briony took her offer and went for a wander. She returned at ten after falling into conversation with the police party in the back function room. Several officers were intrigued to learn Daphne now had a girl-friend. Briony assured them Daphne was ‘straight’ though she herself wasn’t sure exactly what ‘straight’ meant in Daphne’s particular circumstance. Briony was also mildly surprised that Daphne was so well known to the police. She giggled when the deputy chief constable explained.
“She’s known to us for good things Briony, not bad things.”
When she returned to the office, Daphne had just arrived from sorting out the last wrinkles.
“Ah, there you are darling; I was just about to send out the search party. Here’s your meal token.”
“Meal token?” Briony wondered as she took the be-ribboned metal disc.
“Yes, there’s a buffet after one a, m, you’ll need your token, they won’t be able to deliver food here in our office, the club is too crowded and the dance floor too lively. The food would get knocked all over the place by the dancers. Besides, the buffet is a lot of fun. Haggis, soup, and assorted tab-nabs but it has to be eaten in the big function room, the police have the other function room for their new-year’s-eve party.”
Now Briony began to realise why Daphne had been so busy; the party was very well organised. After placing the token around her neck like a medal, she accepted Daphne’s invitation to strut their stuff on the dance floor and the four of them joined the fun. As midnight approached, Briony began to realise why it was an all-ticket event. The club was heaving and dancing was becoming difficult. She was struggling to stay close to her friends when the Deejay announced the approach of the witching hour. A large picture of 'Big Ben's' clock face was projected onto the display screens and people began to count down loudly. The noise rose to a crescendo as the numbers were chanted throughout the club until midnight was announced explosively by hundreds of streamers and ‘poppers’ being activated. The crowd started congratulating each other and back-slapping as Auld Lang Syne was struck up. Briony realised she had a grin permanently fixed to her face as Daphne grabbed her, hugged her and kissed her passionately. The night was going swimmingly and then a Conga started up that lasted until the buffet was announced.
At one o’clock, the lights were switched on in the main function room to reveal several rows of long tables groaning with food. The addition of the large function room to the club’s available floor space suddenly reduced the crowding as people surged towards the tables. The music was silenced for an hour and clubbers had a chance in the bright light and quiet to chat and renew acquaintances. Briony was also impressed by the army of caterers renewing the food and disposing of the waste bins as they filled up
She turned to Daphne who was stuffing a cream cake into her mouth.
“You’ve got this well organised.”
“The punters have paid for it; they’ve every right to expect.”
“You’ve got a fabulous set-up here.”
“Thanks darling. This is only the second year. D’you want to come out on the front balcony. It’s a private area where only my staff and my invited guests are allowed. It’s a sort of quiet area where the staff can recover from the hurly burly.”
Briony was relieved and copied Daphne as they replenished their plates then slipped through the catering doors and past the food area. They climbed another flight of stairs then Briony found herself on a modest balcony area with some seats that overlooked the street. The club manager happened to be there with Janet, the woman who Briony had seen earlier counting the money. They were sat sipping drinks and turned to meet Daphne as she appeared. Both staff stood up and smiled as the pair arrived then they settled into the seats again. Briony took an empty seat while Daphne leant against the balcony rail looking down at the street.
“Been a good night Billy?” She asked the manager.
“Seems to be, you’d best ask Janet, she does the counting and she's looking after the control room tonight with all the video screens.
Daphne turned to Janet who nodded enthusiastically.
“Brilliant night. The door and the bars have done fifty five grand by midnight.”
Briony nearly dropped her plastic plate.
“How much!” She almost screeched.
Daphne turned and smiled.
“Beats farming, but there’s a lot of overheads. That buffet alone took ten grand to organise, the food, the staff, the tables and chairs. Billy’s done a good job, we’ll find out by morning but we’re already ahead I’m guessing.”
Billy nodded as a satisfied smile spread across his lips. Daphne explained.
“The regular staff are all on a bonus after sixty thousand and Janet will know if we’ve passed that when she returns to the computers. Each till is connected to the office computer.”
“We’re probably there already and it’s only just gone one.” Janet surmised. “I’ll know when I go back down.”
The four were settling down in their chairs as Rachel and Shirley Appeared. Bums shifted up and chairs were re-arranged as the five took their ease while Daphne continued leaning on the rail as she studied the throngs celebrating in the streets below. Briony found herself admiring Daphne's tight fitting white dress and pretty bolero jacket.
In the street. people were still letting off fireworks while generally singing and dancing in the street. Then the fireworks got louder and people started shrieking as Daphne turned to Briony and smiled as she remarked.
“Well, it looks as though everybody’s having a good time. Shall we g — aaah.”
Daphne’s smile contorted into an agonised groan and she slid slowly from the rail as her hand clutched out to support herself. Briony leaned forward and asked.
“Are you okay love.”
“No,” she croaked, “I think I’m having a heart attack or something ... my chest! Help!”
With that Daphne’s hand lost its grip and she crumpled from the rail to the floor. Briony squealed in panic as Rachel catapulted from her chair and rolled Daphne over to check her out. Only then did the dark red stain become apparent as her bolero top flipped aside to reveal her life blood spilling from her wound.
Brionys’ squeal turned to a scream of despair.
The Ram 21
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A Chapter where Briony and Rachel bring Daphne home to the relative safety of Plas Glas.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 21
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
The Ram 21.
Briony woke to realise she was still in her clubbing clothes. It was four pm, and she was late for the hospital.
“Damn!” She cursed and her utterance alerted Rachel. Shirley and Fajita had taken Sion and Ellairy out so Briony had to empty her breasts with her vacuum pump and leave milk in the fridge for Fajita to give while she was out.
“Am I neglecting my kids?’ She wondered then forgave herself.
At that juncture, Daphne was the most important issue. She would need all the love and support that Briony could give. After the quickest of showers, she and Rachel drove back to the QE. To find Daphne awake but stuffed with painkillers.
“How is it?” Rachel asked.
“Bad,” Daphne mumbled. “They won’t know for sure unless or until they can remove the fragment. It’s close to a lot of nerves and stuff apparently.”
“Yes,” Rachel confirmed the surgeon’s words to Briony, “there’s lots of stuff going on around that area.”
Briony pulled a wry expression. She wanted to smile but was in no mood for jollity.
“Lots of stuff going on? Is that a medical expression? That’s exactly what the surgeon said this morning.”
“Well there is Bri’”, Rachel reaffirmed. “The shoulder is a very busy joint and it’s the most flexible joint in the body.”
“This one doesn’t feel very flexible at the moment; it hurts like hell, and my chest, it hurts just to breath.” Daphne croaked.
“Just lie still,” Briony ordered as the consultant appeared still in her scrubs.
“I’ve just assisted on another victim with a bullet in his stomach. As soon as I’m scrubbed up and sterile again, I’ll be the lead surgeon removing the other fragment from the underside Daphne’s clavicle.”
“What’s the prognosis doc?” Rachel asked.
The lady surgeon squinted at Rachel who was looking hard at her as recognition dawned...
“You sound familiar, do I know you?” The surgeon hazarded.
“Yes doc. I do know you. Don’t you remember? Iraq, the first gulf war; I was your theatre sister at the field hospital in Kuwait then Basra. I was known as Richard then ... Sergeant Richard Jenkins.”
“Well I’ll be buggered! So you’re transgendered now.”
“Always was doc. This is the real me.”
“Good God. Well I have to say it, you’re looking good girl! I’d never have read you. Have you had surgery?”
“Facial feminisation and a boob job, that’s all. I’m keeping my bits, my lady partner likes em.”
The lady surgeon grinned as her and Rachel’s military mutuality created a brief ribaldry.
“So that makes you a lesbian ...”
“With a dick ...” Rachel finished with a soft giggle.
The coarse humour relaxed the tension in the room and the grinning consultant wagged her head as she attended to Daphne then asked them to leave as the surgical team arrived to start preparing her for more surgery. As Daphne started to succumb to the anaesthetic, the surgeon explained to Rachel.
“You know the score; we won’t know how long it’ll take until we open her up again. The brachial neuro-specialist is attending from The Royal I’m guessing about two or three hours though.”
Rachel nodded then took Briony with her back to the hotel. In the car she explained the risks and Daphne could only kick her heels while entertaining Sion and feeding Ellairy. Although Fajita was technically ‘off duty’ she stayed to reassure Briony that the children were well cared for. Later that evening Rachel got a phone call, it was the surgeon.
“Hello Rachel, Daphne’s out of theatre and she’s come around. She’s asking for Briony, Shirley and you.”
The three were there in less than thirty minutes. The surgeon explained as she demonstrated Daphne’s recovered skills.
Daphne was able to show that her fingers could move and that pleased Rachel immensely as the surgeon continued. Rachel’s good mood translated to Briony and Shirley as the surgeon explained further.
“She’s got some motor function back, but until she comes out of that cast, we won’t know about her upper arm and shoulder. There’s also the matter of muscular strength. There was a lot of tissue damage. She might always be weak in that arm.”
“It’s all ifs, buts and maybe’s isn’t it,” Briony sighed.
“F’raid so. We’ll be keeping her in for a few more days. I’ll run some more tests.”
Briony sagged in the chair beside Daphne’s bed. Daphne grunted as she extended her good right arm and gently grasped Briony’s arm. Slowly she gave advice in a hoarse, weak whisper for it hurt to breath.
“Just be brave love, you don’t have to stay with me now. It’s just a matter of recovery now.”
“I’m staying with you tonight.” Briony promised tearfully. “I’ll sort out everything else tomorrow. I’ve got to speak to Cledwyn and sort out the feeding of the animals.”
“Speak to Blodwen. She’ll be able to help a lot in that direction. As Daphne spoke, she smiled with surprise. “Speak of the Devil!”
Briony turned around and felt a surge of relief. Blodwen had arrived after just hearing the news of Daphne’s wounds. Briony sighed with relief, ‘Blodwen would know much more about organising the farm and taking on a temporary labourer.’
Blodwen placed the bag of grapes on the window sill because there was no bedside cabinet. The bed was surrounded by assorted equipment that seemed to be either nourishing or feeding off Daphne’s body. Blodwen studied Daphne silently for long seconds then seemed to read her mind.
“I’ll look after the farm. It’s just after Christmas and things are quiet at my architectural practice until the builders start back to work. There’s a cold snap forecast so most building work is on stop or go-slow. I can handle any queries over the web while I’m down at Plas Glas. My partner will keep things ticking over. Have they said how long you’ll be in?”
“About four or five days, minimum, possibly longer,” Briony affirmed.
“Have you got the bullet as a memento?” Blodwen asked.
Daphne would have shrugged but it was too painful and her shoulder was in a cast. Instead she just waggled her right hand then explained slowly between painful breaths.
“No. The police took the fragments for forensics and as evidence. The bullet broke in two.”
Blodwen grinned.
“Well make sure your eventually get both bits. You can use them as ear-ring decorations.”
Daphne would have laughed but it was too painful. Instead she sighed wearily and apologised.
“I want to sleep again. Sorry, my chest still hurts like hell.”
Blodwen suddenly felt a little guilty when she realised she had already over-taxed Daphne’s weakened body. She leant forward, kissed her gently, then pressed the call button for the IC nurse.
The uniformed sister appeared almost immediately. Daphne explained she was tired and the nurse injected a sedative to send her under while her friends watched concernedly. As Daphne’s eyes closed the nurse explained.
“The more she sleeps the better. I’m told one of you is staying?”
Briony nodded and the nurse showed her the adjoining annex where a fold-up mattress lay handy. The rest made their goodbyes and by the time Briony returned to her friend’s bed-side to say goodnight, Daphne was already in a deep, drugged sleep. Following Blodwen’s example, Briony kissed her forehead and returned to arrange her bed whilst leaving the adjoining door open.
The drugs ensured that Daphne slept solidly but Briony had a restless night. Several times she slipped quietly into Daphne’s IC ward to check on her friend and simply sit in the chair watching the slow laboured breathing. She began to understand the sense of purpose that ‘keeping vigil’ did for patient’s relatives and companions. The feeling of being there, and sharing ... sharing what; she could not quantify, but it gave her comfort just to seemingly support and protect her wounded companion.
As she kept looking at Daphne, Briony‘s thoughts wandered to a thousand things then occasionally a hoarse cough or rasp would draw her attention back to Daphne’s pale complexion.
‘At least she wasn’t using one of those awful ventilators that seemed to signal every breath and so emphasise the danger of ceasing to breath.’ Briony always saw them as some sort of parasitic insect attached to the patients face as though stealing a person’s very air when in fact they were doing the very opposite and were quite essential to the person’s survival. Fortunately
Daphne was breathing naturally if raggedly.
Eventually the dawn found Briony snoring in the chair as the IC nurse came to complete her final check before handing over to the day team.
“Wake up Miss Briony, the surgeon will be here shortly.”
“What time is it?” She asked, forgetting there was a clock on the wall.
“Seven o’clock.”
“My God does that lady surgeon ever sleep?”
“It won’t be her, it’s the registrar. Her work is done here, Daphne’s recovering satisfactorily. Hopefully she’ll be feeding by mouth this morning and if we can remove the chest drain her breathing should improve rapidly.”
Briony felt the wave of relief as Daphne stirred and grunted with pain. She had unconsciously tried to use her injured shoulder as she woke up. The pain brought her quickly to full wakefulness. Daphne turned and saw Briony looking at her. Both girls smiled. Briony was glad Daphne had made it through the night, Daphne was glad somebody she knew and loved was there waiting for her when she woke.
It was Monday morning and Briony knew that Rachel and Shirley had their regular work to sort. Shirley was returning to Manchester while Rachel was organising the Trans convention for the police and other emergency services. This meant Briony was very much ‘on her own’ with regard to Daphne’s recovery but Daphne had arranged with the hotel to provide Briony with extra help with her children. Fajita came up trumps in her extra care for the children and apart from breast feeding Ellairy, Briony was spared the
burden of care. Fortunately, as Daphne’s condition slowly improved, Sion was allowed to visit and he savoured the lurid story. He was disappointed that the bullet had been taken away by the police. When he expressed these sentiments Daphne whispered to Briony.
“Boys! Gruesome creatures aren’t they. I’m glad I was never fully one of them.”
Briony grinned back.
“Oh they have their uses Daph’.”
Daphne nearly laughed but her heaving chest caused a couching fit. She coughed up some vile green phlegm stained with blood and puss and Sion peered at it in the sputum bowl.
“Is that real blood?”
An exasperated Briony scolded him.
“Of course it is! She was shot in the chest. Now stop being so bloody gruesome or I won’t bring you again.”
Suitably chastened, Sion fell silent and studied the various monitors while Briony chatted at length about Blodwen’s work back at Plas Graig Las.
During the rest of the week many matters were attended to and the police conducted some more interviews. The CCTV cameras on the street and in all the clubs had proved extremely useful and the police had some firm leads. On the Thursday they were pleased to be able to declare to the press that they had one man in custody and were following up several more productive inquiries.
“I just love their quaint expressions,” Briony chuckled as she sat with Daphne relishing the good news..
Thus the week passed and on the Saturday Daphne was released. As Briony drove Daphne and her children home she felt a warm fuzz engulf her stomach as she considered the word ‘home’.
'Had she and Daphne become so close and travelled so far already that she thought of Plas Graig Las as ‘home’? She wondered.
Strangely she felt even better that Rachel was following in her car with Shirley and the three children namely Rachel’s older children James and Tara and also Shirley’s own child by Rachel.
Briony was glad of the company as she navigated the narrow mountain roads and even more glad that the snow had pretty much melted.
The winding, featureless mountain roads were easier to follow when hedges and banks were visible.
Blodwen greeted them at the farm gate in the ‘eight thousand’ and accompanied them down the lane to the farm. As the convoy approached the back gate of Plas Graig Las the cars were beset by a maelstrom of ecstatic dogs and hysterical barking. Sion could not get out of the Landrover quickly enough as he hugged the dogs and pranced madly with them before dashing straight across the yard to check on Angel the mare and more particularly, Gabriel, her foal.
As he settled quietly in the straw to hug the foal’s neck a young female voice approached nervously. Tara had heard about the foal and wanted desperately to see it.
“Where are you Sion?” She called.
“Shhhh! You’ll frighten her. I’m in the loosebox with Angel and Gabby.” Sion whispered to emphasise the need for calm.
“What’s a loosebox?” Tara whispered.
Sion rose reluctantly, then stroked the young foal to calm her down before slipping quietly through the door and putting his finger to his lips. Tara spotted him immediately and recognised his signal. She crept up to him and he slowly opened the door as he whispered instructions.
“Move slowly and quietly, she doesn’t know you yet.”
The foal continued lying in the straw as Sion slipped into the loosebox while Angel extended her nose to be patted. When Tara followed him in as softly as she could, the foal immediately stood and slipped behind her mother. The disappointment was evident on Tara’s face but Sion whispered.
“Sit down in that straw over there, it’s clean. Once you’re smaller than her she won’t be so nervous and Angel will also be calmer.”
Tara did as asked and within minutes the foal emerged and nervously edged towards her. By pre-arrangement before they had left Birmingham, Tara had some sugar lumps from the hotel. She gave them to Angel because Gabriel had not yet got any teeth but the
mare’s appreciation translated to her foal and Gabriel eventually approached Tara to nuzzle her fingers inquisitively.
“There see. She’ll get to like you once she knows you.” Sion whispered.
“Ooooh she’s beautiful, she’s so sweet.”
“I call her Gabby for short and she comes to the call watch.” So saying, Sion whispered Gabby’s name and the foal immediately pressed close to the boy. Sion grinned proudly.
“See. Daphne taught me how to do that, Daphne’s fabulous. When Gabby’s ready and old enough, Daphne’s taking me riding. D’you want to see the other animals?”
Sion’s enthusiasm was infectious and despite the age differences, Tara followed him around the barn to meet Pansy and Jessica the sows. Peter the ram had been turned out into the paddock but Sion was able to identify him from the ewes.
“He’s the one with the big curly horns. Daphne says he’s got some Wiltshire in him, that’s a breed of sheep with big horns.”
Having exhausted his store of knowledge, they joined the adults in the house where Daphne was sorting out various issues concerning her absence and incapacity.
Briony and Shirley were helping Blodwen prepare the dinner while Rachel and her son James carried in the luggage. After the meal was eaten, Daphne led Rachel and her family around the house. The more Rachel saw, the more enthusiastic she became about organising weekend parties.
“It’s just fantastic! I mean it just couldn’t be bettered. Ten huge double bedrooms and then the servant’s bedrooms on the second floor. I mean it’s just incredible. This place must cost a fortune to heat!”
Daphne grinned.
“No. There’s our own private generating station with several water turbines fed by the river. The electricity heats this house and Blodwen’s farm. Heating and light are free except to maintain the turbines.”
“Why d’you use an Aga to cook?” Rachel pressed.
Daphne smiled as memories flooded back.
“My Mummy and Grandma used to use it to cook and I learned from them on it.Thus it just sort of got stuck. It's what I'm used to. Before Briony came I tended to use the microwave. I’ve never had the heart to remove it, anyway, it’s good for cooking, Briony will tell you that.”
Briony nodded vigorously.
“It’s true. I find it great.”
“Yes, they are good,” Shirley added enviously.
“So, shall we sort out the bedrooms then?”
They all nodded including Blodwen. Daphne caught her eye and grinned.
“I suppose you’ve already chosen your favourite one, the one with the door to the turret.”
“As always,” Blodwen confessed,” after all I’ve been using it ever since I was a baby.”
“Yeah,” Daphne sighed, “we go back a long way don’t we?”
“If I wasn’t gay darling, I’d have married you at sixteen. Briony’s a lucky girl. Come on then, let’s sort out the other rooms. There’s linen and everything ready in each room and all the beds are aired. I’ve prepared the house for guests while I’ve been here. Plas Las won’t know itself. A proper party after what? Twenty five years?”
“More than that,” Daphne confessed pensively. Since before mummy died, that’s twenty seven years this Christmas.”
The next hour was spent choosing rooms, the biggest issue being that Tara and James couldn’t decide which ones they preferred. In the end Daphne offered to toss a coin. An act that was to become a tradition at future parties.
The Ram 22
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A chapter that describes the friends settling in for a brief holiday at Plas Graig Las.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 22
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
The Ram 22.
Sunday dawned cold bright and clear as the house grew progressively noisier as people stirred.
Normally, Dave would be the first to rise, but Blodwen, being from a farming background, was up before him. Dave was pleasantly surprised and a little relieved to find Blodwen busy in the kitchen when he came down.
“Aww! Thanks love, you’re a brick. Can you help me get my shirt over this stupid shoulder cast?”
Blodwen put down the spatula and quickly sorted out the shirt. It was an old one and had been split at the seam to accommodate the plaster and split. Dave grinned.
“It was easier with a strappy dress, Daphne’s got it easy, this is just a bloody nuisance.”
“How long before it comes off.”
“If the pain is gone, I can go to Birmingham next weekend.”
“And is the pain reducing?” Blodwen pressed.
“A bit, hard to say when it’ll be gone though.”
“Well, once the weather eases, I’ll have to get back to work. You’ll have to get a permanent labourer; I would suggest somebody from the LGBT scene. Then Daphne can indulge herself.”
“You’re probably right,” Dave replied. “Though more probably a masculine gay who’s tolerant and accepting of tee-girls. It needs somebody with muscle and technique to ‘man-handle’ sheep when shearing and dipping time comes around.”
As they chatted, the others started drifting down to breakfast. Sion’s eyes fell on Dave and Blodwen had to smile a little at the flicker of disappointed confusion. She pulled Sion into an embrace and grilled him affectionately.
“You prefer Daphne don’t you?”
Sion hesitated then nodded ever so slightly as he whispered a barely audible yes.
Dave turned to him and smiled as he placed a bowl of porridge in what had become Sion’s favoured seat by the window where he could look out over the fields and both approaches, the main front drive and the more frequently used side lane. Then he reached down, swept Sion up in his good right arm and gave him a firm but not too tight hug, just the sort of hug Daphne gave. Finally he kissed Sion on the forehead as he assured him.
“Daphne is here Sion, she’s me, she’s in my head, it’s just that sometimes Dave has to come out to do work around the farm. It’s only Dave’s clothes that Daphne’s wearing, okay?”
“And his hair ... that pony tail.” Sion added.
“Well Daphne sometimes puts her hair up in a ponytail Sion, it’s just that she puts the band slightly higher on her head, you’ll see when she goes riding once the snow is clear. You can rest easy, Daphne’s always here.”
Sion smiled and dug into his porridge as the others looked at him and Dave then smiled. Rachel grinned as she remarked.
“You’re fond of that kid.”
“I’m fond of any child of Briony’s.”
Briony smiled as she settled to a breakfast that she hadn’t had to prepare.
“I could grow to like this.”
Blodwen chuckled.
“Don’t get misled girl, when the weather breaks, Dave‘ll be up and out early. You’ll have to get Sion ready for school and the school bus picks up at a quarter to eight from the lane.”
“Oh it’s not that bad Blod;” Dave protested. “After Nan died I got myself ready from aged eleven. Dad was up and out early.”
Blodwen grinned.
“Yeah, and who always had to put your tie straight, check your face for dirt?”
“You were just fussy.” Dave grinned.
Blodwen wagged her head in mock despair as Briony recognised the deep friendship that had always been there between Blodwen and Dave.
‘Truly, had Blodwen not been gay, they would have ended up lovers and married,’
Briony reaffirmed her earlier conclusions. The three real women Shirley, Blodwen and Briony exchanged womanly smiles as they recognised the issues. However Rachel and ‘Daphne’ were equally alert to the nuances crossing the table. The adults all fell to chuckling as Tara and James looked puzzled.
“What?” James demanded. “What’s the joke?”
Sion piped up with perspicacity beyond his years.
“You wouldn’t understand anyway James. It’s grown up stuff.”
James glared at Sion and demanded.
“What do you know then?”
“I don’t,” Sion confessed readily, “I’m not grown up.”
“Well I am!” James addressed the table generally. “So what’s the joke?”
“It’s nothing much, lad,” Dave replied. “It’s a ladies joke and it involves me as a child. Only parents would laugh at this or kids who’ve had to bring themselves up.”
“And both Dave and me lost our mums early James, so we had to fend for ourselves.” Blodwen added. “We were laughing because the image of a mother giving her kids, particularly her sons, a once over with spit on a handkerchief is an image as old as parenthood itself. It’s just the image of a twelve-year-old girl wiping a twelve-year-old boys neck with her handkerchief adds a certain additional, amusing imagery to the scene. That’s what we women were laughing about.”
James frowned then added.
“Yeah, Aunty Shirley even tried it on at the station when she met us off the train in Manchester. I had to push her away, it was embarrassing.”
“Yeah but your neck was dirty.” Shirley declared.
“It wasn’t!” James protested.
“It was,” Tara added as she joined forces with the older women.”
James cursed as he concluded he wasn’t going to win the argument.
“I can’t win here, even the men are women.”
“This brought a roar of laughter from everybody and James finally felt at ease. He had made everybody laugh, even the men. He was glad when he realised the 'men' were indeed, not insulted..
“You’ve got it in one son, and I applaud you for it. Well done lad.” Rachel chuckled.
“You didn’t do badly for one so outnumbered,” Dave added. “D’you want to come out on the tractor and check the sheep?”
James’s eyes lit up.
“Can I drive it?”
“After we’ve fed the sheep, I’ll give you a lesson at the wheel. Sion will show you what to do feeding the sheep. It’s not rocket science.”
“Huh. All you do is chuck mangles out to the sheep.”
“What are mangles,” James asked.
“They’re like turnips but bigger and more orange colour.” Sion explained, happy to demonstrate his greater knowledge.
“Can I feed Gabby the foal?” Tara begged.
“Yes, just don’t excite them.” Dave cautioned. “Blod, will you show her which food goes to which animals please while we’re out feeding the sheep?”
“Okay.”
They chatted around the table in high good humour and Dave couldn’t help savouring the atmosphere.
“This is what this house is all about,’ He told himself, ‘Rachel’s parties will be like this every time we hold one.’
As he rose to fill the teapot the phone rang and he answered it.
“Oh Hello Brian ... okay, I’ll tell her.” The call was brief and he turned to Briony.
“Your car’s ready.”
“What’s the damage?”
“Suspension arm, track rod, trailing arm and the drive CV joint.”
“I didn’t mean that, I meant how much. All that CV stuff is gobbledygook to me.”
“Three hundred and fifty.”
Briony’s expression greyed.
“Shit! I can’t afford tha-.”
Dave interrupted her before she could even finish.
“Don’t be daft girl. You’re with me now. You can’t function out here without your car. I’ll see Brian about it on Tuesday. That’s a reasonable price. We’ve got to go into Machynlleth on Tuesday anyway, it’s market day.”
“Oooh can we come?” James begged.
“Yeah. It’ll be a day out,” Dave replied which caused Blodwen to snort with laughter as she tried to contain her mouthful of tea.
“What now?” James wondered aloud.
Blodwen recovered her composure and explained to the rest.
“A day out in Machynlleth! Really Dave, you’ll be leading these kids astray I suppose.”
Dave grinned.
“It’s not that bad Blod.”
“Bloody hell Dave! Why do you think I left home? The highlight of our childhoods was a flipping market day in Machynlleth; all sheep-shit, shouting and farmers in bloody wellies.”
“Oh come on Blod there were other things to do.”
“Yeah, a wet Tuesday in Machynlleth. I suppose you could really lead them astray and take them to Chapel. Watch out you don’t end up being baptised kids!”
Even Dave smiled at that one. He long knew the reasons for Blodwen leaving home. Her undeclared sexuality had more or less forced her to use university as a stepping stone. The climate of the nonconformist chapels had also caused her to despair for Blodwen had been forced to attend right up to going to college. Dave had been luckier insofar as his dad was not religious and Dave’s skills were needed on the farm even on Sundays.
The last time Blodwen attended chapel she had had a terrible argument with the minister and one of the deacons about homosexuality and she had almost, but not quite, ‘come out’ to them. Only her respect for her dead mother and ailing father had prevented her for she knew she would still have to come home each term and face the people of Machynlleth. Small town Wales could be a very oppressive place. She also owed Dave an incalculable debt in his turning up trumps and helping to run both farms while she held onto her lesbian sanity in college and later in Birmingham. Blodwen knew her debt to Dave was immeasurable. Thanks to him, her father was still alive and she still stood to inherit the farm. Had Dave not taken on the unbelievable responsibility for both farms at the incredibly tender age of nineteen, Blodwen’s father would be dead now. The workload would have killed him as he grew sicker.
As her Architectural practice had prospered, Blodwen knew she could do a lot of the work on-line. If she and her partner were to have children now, the farm would be a brilliant place to raise them, especially as they would have Dave and Briony’s children as neighbours in Plas Las.
‘The hills would be alive with children’s laughter during those long summer holidays,’ she surmised. ’Not like the long lonely days of her late teens and early twenties, when she walked the hills alone after coming down from uni.' Dave was there but he had to tend the flocks with little time to spare to share with her.’
Though she knew he would have jumped at the chance to share those days with her, despite having found out by then that she was gay. They were still fond of each other but Blodwen hadn’t learned to drive so she couldn’t get out while Dave was too exhausted at night after already starting to look after two flocks. The rare weekends when they did get out, Blodwen was more interested in girls and Dave still hadn’t ‘confessed’ that he was transgendered. Blodwen reflected on that issue as well.
‘Being transgendered still seemed to carry more censure than being gay and Blodwen’s realising that, after Dave had finally revealed it to her, brought home to Blodwen just how damnable life must have been for Dave.’
“Penny for your thoughts Blod?” Dave disturbed her from her introspections.
“I was just thinking,” Blodwen confessed. “We’ve been really lucky this year, you and Briony, me and Sarah my partner.”
“Aye Blod, things do seem to have taken a nice turn. Just out of curiosity, when are you going back to Brum?”
“Unless something unexpected turns up, not until the end of January. Sarah’s my full partner, she can handle everything.”
“I’m so pleased, Briony will like the company and you can help her deal with any wrinkles concerning the house.”
Dave poured out more tea into several cups without being asked then he turned to Rachel and Shirley.
“When are you going back?”
“I have to be back in Manchester tomorrow,” Rachel explained.
“And Shirley?” Dave pressed. “Does she have to go?”
Shirley sensed the unspoken invitation to stay and quickly intervened.
“Well, I don’t have to go back with Rach’, but I haven’t got a car to get home if Rachel returns alone.”
“There’s plenty of cars to get you to Newtown station or even Birmingham.” Dave observed. “There’s mine, Blodwens and Briony will have hers by Tuesday.”
Shirley turned to Rachel with an inquiring expression.
“D’you mind if we stay?”
“I’ll have to speak to James and Tara’s mother. They’re only supposed to be with me for the weekend. Technically I should return Tara tomorrow night. James is free to decide for himself.”
“You’d better call her now then.” Shirley pressed. “Sooner we know, the sooner we can organise something about staying here longer.”
Rachel nodded and pulled a face but Shirley insisted that she contact her ex. Rachel did as asked and an expectant silence settled around the table. After exchanging strained greetings, Rachel got straight to the point and asked if Tara could stay for the week. She handed the phone to Tara.
“She wants to speak to you.”
Tara took the phone and everybody could immediately sense the tension. Tara’ was calm at first but slowly her voice rose as the conversation continued. Eventually, Tara offered a curt-
“Well thanks! And the same to bloody you!” then slammed the receiver down.
“Well that didn’t seem to go too well then. Can you stay” Rachel checked.
“She’s got her bloody new boyfriend with her. He’s loathsome and he’s always eyeing me up.”
“I didn’t ask what she was doing; I asked can you stay ... here at Plas Las?”
“I told her I’m not going home while he’s there. He works nights and he’s always around the house when mum’s at work. It’s okay when I’m at school but during the holidays he’s there when I’m there alone. He’s creepy.”
Rachel cast an inquiring look in James’s direction. James nodded ruefully.
“He tries to boss us about and yes, his eyes are all over Tara. We stay together when he’s around. Mum can’t or won’t see it. That’s why I’m staying there until Tara’s sixteen. I don’t trust him either. We’re coming to stay with you as soon as.”
“It’ll be cramped son. Your mum’s got the house. Shirley and I still share an apartment in the Manchester gay village.”
“We’d prefer to live in a shed than stay with the creep.” Tara sniffed. “Anyway, in answer to your question she says we can stay
until the end of the holidays.”
“Which is?”
“January the twelfth.”
Rachel turned to Dave with the question writ large in her frown. Dave nodded.
“No problem. They can stay till then. Gives me time to organise labour. I’ve got somebody in mind anyway. Cledwyn’s labourer brought him home after the Royal Welsh Agricultural show. He was a New Zealander competing in the shearing. Some months later I met him in Manchester on Canal Street. At first he was very cagey until he realised who I was. He hadn’t recognised me.”
“Yeah well that figures,” Rachel grinned, “You pass pretty well. D’you know where he lives?”
“He gave me his mobile number but he moves around a lot from job to job. I know he’s gay so he probably finds working for straight-laced farmers a bit of a chore.”
Rachels grin widened then Dave realised his unintentional pun and admitted -.
“Bad choice of words, but you know what I mean.”
The grins spread around the kitchen and only Sion failed to see the pun.
On this note, Dave, James and Sion left to feed the sheep while Blodwen and Briony gave Rachel, Shirley and Tara a tour of the immediate grounds and a re-run around the house. The more Rachel saw, the more she enthused about its suitability for parties. When they met again with Dave the enthusiasm around the lunch table was tangible. James was full of news about being allowed to drive the huge tractor while Rachel was keen to go forward with party arrangements. The chatter rose to crescendos and fell away several times as ideas were mooted deep into the afternoon. The chatter stopped when Dave decided to phone the New Zealander.
The guy Terry, in his early twenties, was shocked to learn that Daphne owned the farm. Terry had thought that Dave simply worked it for some older relative. On realising that ‘The Tranny’ from Manchester had an opening for a shepherd, Terry was more than willing to work for an LGBT boss. He agreed to work a month’s notice for his current boss then he’d turn up at the farm on the second Monday of February. Dave would have preferred it to be earlier but Terry had demonstrated that he was a responsible reliable worker ... not the sort to do a moonlight flit without notice. He also wanted the week off to attend the Royal Welsh Show and Dave, who already stayed home while Cledwyn’s labourer went, found this to be no chore. He could easily manage the farm in the warm summer months. He did for most of the year anyway except during busy seasons like lambing, shearing and dipping.
The Sunday evening was spent by the adults chatting while the younger people played video games. Monday proved to pass similarly except that Rachel had to leave for Manchester and work while Dave had to select some sheep for market On Tuesday; Blodwen appeared with the sheep trailer and a dozen of her own sheep. They loaded Dave’s trailer with his sheep and a miniature convoy set forth for Machynlleth Market.
The Ram 23
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The chapter deals with Daphne's convalescence and the stay by Shirley and the children for the last week of the Christmas 'hols'.
Dave anbd Blodwen meet an old classmate who proves to be sympathetic to Daphne.
Arfon also appears at the end.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 23.
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
The Ram 23.
Machynlleth was living up to Blodwen’s description as she and Briony picked their way down the Forge Road that took them into Machynlleth. The rain was laced with wet snow flakes and the street glistened with a dull pewter hue as the interminable Welsh Weather reinforced the visitors view.
In addition to mobile phones, both Blod and Dave had CB radios in their land-rovers so they could chatter at will. The visitors became so excited at being able to chatter together that Briony and Blod had to surrender the mikes to Dave and Shirley as the children leaned over their shoulders.
“It’s no wonder your country is so bloody green,” Shirley declared as another gust hammered the sleet against the wind-screen. “This is like Manchester but with mountains. Does it ever stop?”
“We call this ‘Welsh Sunshine’ darling,” Blodwen chuckled. “Welcome to Wales Shirl’, Rain, sheep and mountains.”
“Yeah, I’m wondering now why I didn’t go back with Rachel.” Shirley grinned.
“Because we wanted to stay away from mum’s new boyfriend, that’s why.” Tara replied.
“Yeah. I suppose that’s as good a reason as any, point taken love.” Shirley conceded.
They pulled onto Heol Maengwyn and because of the miserable conditions, Dave and Blodwen offered to put the rest off by the shops while they took the sheep to market. Briony, Shirley and the young ones were all curious to visit a live-stock market. Blodwen warned them.
“It’s like I said, all sheep-shit, mud and waxed jackets. This sleet will only make it more miserable. D’you really want to come? The bidding doesn’t start until eleven.”
“We’ve got our coats an’ ats.” Briony offered.”
“Yeah, but no wellies.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” Dave interjected. “None of you have got wellies. I’ll buy you each a pair in the market at Dick’s, the agricultural suppliers.”
“Oh Dave, I’m so disappointed with Daphne,” Blodwen scolded him. “Daphne would surely have the fashion sense to buy some nice girly wellies, flowers and stuff. Dick only stocks those God-awful black things. Look at mine.”
Blodwen pointed her toe to show off her pink wellies with bird and flower motifs. Dave grinned.
“Oh things have changed a bit Blod’. Welsh farmer’s wives have put their feet down. The market shop keeps some pretty stylish stuff there now since his daughter took a hand.”
“Oh! His daughter. Will that be Wendy from our class?”
“The very same, she's Machynlleth’s answer to Dior.”
“Yeah, she always had an eye. Old Evans the headmaster was always pulling her for those ‘fanny-pelmets’ she called skirts. She did things for Machynlleth Comp that Germaine Greer would have been pushed to achieve. Oh yes. I’m looking forward to meeting Wendy again. She was a right rebel. Is she still one?”
“Well she’s shaken up her dad Dick’s market shop. They carry a good range of stylish stuff and she’s up to London several times a year picking and choosing stuff. You don’t see much of Dick now, he’s more-or-less retired. He only appears on market Tuesdays when they’re busy and the farmers are in town. Other days the shop is more or less a fashion outlet and I might say one of the best in North Wales. However Wendy still carries the work clothes and stuff. I see her most Tuesdays when I’m in town. She’s expanded the space and made quite a go of it by providing a street front where the old livery stables were. It’s really quite smart; Machynlleth’s a very different town from our school days Blod.”
“Can’t wait to meet her again.” Blodwen grinned.
The little convoy pulled into the market entrance and waited its turn to discharge the sheep into a pen. When Shirley and Briony saw the Market shop, they immediately de-camped with Tara and Ellairy then dashed through the rain to look though the clothing range. Blodwen was left to manoeuvre both land-rovers and trailers up to the sorting gates but Dave accompanied her to the auction office to register.
“You just selling today Dave?” Arthur the auctioneer asked.
Dave nodded and signed the sale papers.
Sion and James stood with Dave for they wanted to see the live-stock market in full swing. Blodwen signed her forms and she parked up the vehicles before returning with the boys to the shop. Just then the heavens opened and they were caught in the downpour.
Twenty minutes later Dave and Blodwen stumbled into Wendy’s store with the boys looking like drowned rats. Dave explained.
“They were too curious to care about the rain. We’ve just got the sheep penned and listed for auction; the bidding will start in about half an hour. The boy’s need some waterproofs and wellies if they want to watch the bidding.”
Briony couldn’t help grinning at her little boy. His hair hung in lank tendrils down his head and the water was dripping off his inadequate clothes but the smile on his face said it all. James looked little better. Briony wagged her head in dismay.
“They’re soaked through and it’s bitterly cold out there! They’ll need a complete change of clothes! Really Dave sometimes you just don’t think.”
Dave grinned and shook his head as he indicated the racks of clothes.
“Look around you Bri, what d’you see?”
Briony frowned then looked at Dave as she wasn’t sure what he meant.
“D’you mean buy them some?”
“That’s what you girls are doing, what’s good for the goose ...”
As Dave was explaining, a familiar voice spoke behind him.
“Hello Dave, I" — The voice stopped short with surprise then exploded again.
“Oh my God! Blod! Is it really you? I haven’t seen you for what, nine years! What have you been doing with yourself? Why aren’t you married to this reprobate? Has the wrecker of ministers returned? Are you going to wed him at last?”
Wendy pointed a thumb to Dave as he stood grinning.
Blodwen recovered from the barrage of questions then accepted Wendy’s widespread arms as they fell into a hug. Blodwen and Wendy had been classmates with Dave all through the school years. The girls had been good friends, indeed, best friends. Wendy pressed.
“Why haven’t you kept in touch? I’ve not seen hide not hair since you finished uni. You just disappeared off the radar. The other girls often ask about you.”
“It’s a long story Wend’. I had to move away; you know; the big city and all that. Machynlleth was just too stifling for me. The truth is you see, I’m gay; end of.”
Dave smiled enigmatically as he admired Blodwen’s directness. In their teen years, Blod wouldn’t have dared admit to being gay; nor would he have revealed his transgenderism. Machynlleth was a small Welsh market town, all chapel and religion.
Dave was impressed by Wendy’s reaction. There was naturally a mild reaction but nothing of any censure or revulsion. Wendy continued hugging Blodwen even tighter and that spoke louder than words. Wendy was more sympathetic than anything.
“Well that’s a pity ... for Dave I mean. I always had you two down for the perfect couple. Tell you what, you lot look bloody soaked. I’ll make us all a cup of tea and we can catch up on all the gossip.”
Blodwen let out a burst of giggling.
“Shit Wendy, I thought what I just told you was gossip enough.”
“Well, yes, maybe for most people in Machynlleth, but I get up to London several times a year. Seen my fair share of gays in the rag trade. It’s old hat to me.”
Blodwen felt a soft wave of relief wash over her.
“I hoped it would be; that’s why I came out to you. You always were a good friend. Those skirts you wore, I think old Evans the headmaster nearly had a heart attack cos you had lovely legs.”
“I still have Blod, well my husband thinks so, he’s an incomer who came to manage the bank and ended up staying here. Now he’s area manager for North West Wales. So ... now that’s all the domestic gossip out of the way, these kids and these ladies need wellies if they’re to see the market. Are you buying any livestock?”
“No but I’ll enjoy shopping with these girls.” She indicated Briony and Shirley.
Wendy turned to serve Briony and Shirley while Dave joined Dick in to the little staff kitchen and started pouring tea.
Dave, Wendy and Blodwen went way, way back to infant-school days while their respective fathers had all known each other for decades. Since long before his father had died, Dave had shopped there as man and boy whenever he came to market which was about three times per month. Dick was well used to sharing a coffee or tea with him in the back room.
When he emerged with a tray Briony and Shirley were trying on wellies with Tara while the boys were looking at the guns chained into their armoured cabinet in the strong room at the back of the shop. Wendy and Blodwen were nattering away twenty to the dozen.
“Tea up everybody, can someone take this tray off me? My shoulder cast won’t let me reach out.”
Wendy took the tray and asked about the injured shoulder.
“When did you do that?”
“Oh last week.”
“He was shot!” Sion piped up.
Dave cursed silently. He couldn’t tell the boy off for revealing something Dave had wanted kept quiet. Sion would have had no idea of the implications; and there were many.
The news of the gangland war in Birmingham was reaching national level as various media pundits made programmes about the rising tide of violence and gun crime.
The ‘Gay Village Massacre’ had been used as a background scenario to support various media agendas associated with crime, drugs, gay lib, alcohol abuse and the clubbing culture. Wendy stared hard at Dave as her mind ticked over. She could sense his reticence.
“D’you want to talk about it?”
“Uhhm, not here, not now in front of the kids. We’ll need to talk though, now you know. I don’t want it spread abroad; I’ll explain after you’ve clothed these boys, they’re wet through.”
Wendy nodded and returned to her most important task, selling clothes. Eventually the whole party were fitted out. The boys from head to toe including thermal underwear while the girls invested in stylish waxed jackets and pretty girly wellies. Tara, like all fifteen year-year-olds, had indulged in some additional items for she was determined not to be outdone by her brother. The bill came to a considerable sum that caused Shirley and Briony to approach Dave. Briony asked.
“Are you happy with this? It’s a hell of an expense.”
“You’ll be thankful for them, believe me. If you’re going to marry me, I won’t see you ill shod or bare-backed.”
Like Radar, Wendy picked up the word ‘marry’ as she rang up the sale.
“Oh, so the eligible bachelor of Machynlleth town is finally taking the plunge then. Now this is gossip. Come on, spill the beans.”
Dave frowned and Wendy realised she might have said something out of turn as Dave replied.
“I need to chat to you after the market. Our Livestock should be sold by one o’clock. The others can go for Lunch then I’d like a chat. Will you do that?”
“If the shop’s not busy, yes.”
“Thanks Wendy til then, mum’s the word, okay.”
Wendy nodded thoughtfully and they left to watch the auction.
The sleet was persisting and only essential attendees were going around the pens, following the Auctioneer. Sion asked why the auctioneer spoke so quickly and Blodwen took him in her arms as she explained.
“Shhh. No talking, the man standing on the boards will think you’re buying a sheep and we’re here to sell.”
The Auctioneer stopped as he moved to the next lot and he grinned at Sion. Sion grinned back and waved. Again, Blodwen cautioned him.
“No talking, no waving don’t make any sign that might make him think you’re buying. Keep strictly silent okay. Just watch the men in jackets with the white tickets in their hats. They’re the ones buying. The other men are the farmers who want to see what price their sheep are fetching so they can decide if they want to sell sheep next week. The men in overalls are mainly the drivers and herders who handle the animals in the pens.”
The rest watched briefly until Dave and Blodwen’s stock came up. After the sale, Briony asked.
“Was it a good price?”
“Not bad,” Dave replied, “I’ve had worse and I’ve had better prices.”
“Can I ask?”
“It’s no secret Bri. It’s an open shout auction the prices couldn’t be more public.”
He told her the price per weight which wasn’t very informative to Briony so she asked bluntly.
“How much did you make?”
Dave grinned and wagged his head.
“Mine made one thousand four fifty; Blodwen’s made one thousand four eighty.”
“Why the difference? You both had a dozen sheep.”
“Who knows? Buyers might have preferred Blod’s sheep; a buyer might have been pressed to make his quota for the slaughter house.
It’s all the same. There weren’t many there today, no cattle just last year’s lambs and hoggets.”
“Hoggets?”
“Yearling ewes, breeding or slaughter, the old lambs are for the meat trade.”
“Will I be expected to learn all this?”
“It’s up to you. You’ll get phone calls from other farmers discussing stock prices at different markets. If you answer when I’m out on the hill, it’ll help if you know what’s what. Come on, market over I’m taking you for lunch.”
“What all of us?”
Dave nodded then added.
“I want to speak to Wendy first, Blod will take you. I’ll catch up. After lunch we’ll sort out your car at Brian’s.”
The group left the Landrovers and trailers in the market yard and walked into town to a cafe that Dave had pre-booked. Restaurant eats were sometimes scarce on market days but the weather had deterred many people from attending the market. It was mostly essential farmers with the occasional wife who’d come shopping. Blodwen took them to the restaurant while Dave dropped in to explain to Wendy. The shop was quiet now the market was over and most people were in town eating or shopping. Dave chatted to Wendy in the back room while Dick minded the shop.
“Just a few words Wend’ about my getting shot. I don’t want it spread around the town.”
“Well everybody will see you with your shoulder in plaster, people are bound to ask.”
“So, you just say I broke my shoulder, no need to embellish.”
“So what’s the big issue?”
“I was shot Wend’ that’s the big issue.”
“Well how, where, when. Everybody’s going to ask.”
“Just say you don’t know how it was broken.”
“Alright then, I won’t tell anybody but why the secrecy?”
“There are issues Wend’, the police are still involved with their inquiries. It wasn’t a farming accident; I was shot in that massacre thing in Birmingham.”
“Oh! You mean the gay massacre!”
“The very same.”
“What were you doing in a gay village; you’re not gay are you?”
“No, I’m not gay; would a gay bloke have a partner like Briony?”
“Well; no. I must admit she is quite attractive even after two kids. Are they yours?”
“No but that’s part of the issue. She ex husband is a brute and she’s run away from him, she’s suing for a divorce. He’s a very violent man. The little boy Sion is terrified of him; his own son mind!”
“So, how come you got tangled up in this gay village thing?”
“Oh it’s long story.”
Dave related the past events since he had rescued Briony and in the telling he had to explain his transgendered nature. This juncture brought a gasp from Wendy.
“What! You? Transgendered; you mean you’re a woman!”
“No. I’m partly a woman. It’s complicated and I don’t spread it around.”
“Does Blodwen know?”
“Of course she knows. I suspected she was gay in school, the year before she left for uni. She finally told me after I asked her bluntly during her first year in uni. I could spot things but I remained the only one who knew in all Machynlleth. We drifted apart after that because she thought I disapproved and I was too busy with the farms to work on our friendship. I didn’t see us drifting apart; I was just so-oo so busy.”
Dave sighed wistfully then continued.
“My God how shit buggers with our lives. When I finally realised she’d more or less gone out of my life, I thought I’d lost a wonderful childhood friend forever. We only saw each other when she came home to visit her dad. I was still uptight about my transgenderism and I just couldn’t come out until after my own dad died. Then I spread my wings. Talk about serendipity and coincidences. She found out about me when I was dressed one weekend in the village.
We bumped into each other completely by accident in a gay club. She didn’t recognise me in the dark surroundings but she was spooked that I knew her and so much about her. I thought I’d have a bit of fun and play with her mind but it was a stupid thing to do. She became frightened and thought I was some sort of stalker so I came out to her. I couldn’t apologise enough and she fell apart crying with relief, then she hugged me tighter than she ever had before and we cried for what seemed hours in each other’s arms. We’ve been best friends ever since. That’s why I was up in Birmingham during the New Year.”
“You were partying!”
“It’s what I do Wend’. Machynlleth is too small for me as well. Blod is right, small town life is worse than the big city for LGBT people.”
“So does Briony know?”
“Yes, everything, you must have heard how we met.”
“Oh yes. She’s got a sister, Elspeth living here. It’s all around the town about your ‘Knight in Shining Armour’ exploits.”
“Damn. The silly bitch should have shut her mouth. If Arfon finds out, the shit will hit the fan.”
“I think it was her children who spoke of it, in school, you know what kids are. Is Arfon the man with the fair-haired crew cut?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never met him.”
“Well there was a heavily built man asking about Briony just after Christmas. I don’t know how much he knows but Briony’s story wasn’t much known about just then.”
“Shit! Has he been back since?”
“Not to my knowledge. I think he’s up in Birmingham looking for her. Her face was splashed all over the news after the shooting. Fortunately, she’s not well known in Machynlleth, she’s a Llanidloes girl.”
“Yeah, but it’s a small country, when he comes back he’s bound to find out. He’s got form for GBH.”
“Best thing you can do is let the police know. Ask them to inform you if he’s in town asking.”
“I’d best get my solicitor onto it as well. A court order might be in order, if not for me then for Briony. He’s beaten her up a couple of times, hence the divorce.”
Wendy nodded then smiled.
“So you cross dress then?”
“Amongst other stuff. I’m sort of transgendered as well as transvestite.”
“How d’you mean?”
“Well there’s parts of me that want to stay a man, at least until I’m a father. I want kids to hand on the estate.”
“That says a lot about you. You value family and stuff over your gender and sexuality.”
“Sex was never that big an issue for me. I don’t have a monstrously powerful sex drive, I never have. I think that’s one of the reasons Blodwen was so fond of me at school. She realised she was gay in her early teens and she liked me because I didn’t much push the sex thing. I wasn’t the typical teen-aged ‘gland’ looking to inseminate everything and anything.
If anything, my gender issue is slightly more important but I do want kids to hand on the torch.”
Wendy smiled then asked.
“What do you do to buy clothes?”
“I shop online occasionally, but that’s one of the reasons I go to Birmingham.”
Wendy’s eyes suddenly lit up.
“Ahh! Now I realise! That’s why Briony kept asking your advice about coats and I noticed even that girl, what’s her name? The teenager.”
“Tara,” Dave confirmed.
“Yes. Even she asked you occasionally. I suppose if you were in Birmingham you’d give advice.”
“If I was in Birmingham Wend’ I’d be dressed and comparing clothes. It’s what Blod and I do every time I go up to town. We meet and go shopping.”
“So you walk around the city in daylight.” Wendy confirmed wonderingly.
Dave took out his mobile phone and selected his gallery page. After studying the pictures Wendy swore.
“Bloody hell Dave, you pass! You could be a model with those hips and shoulders. What size are you?”
“Twelve, sometimes fourteen across the shoulders. I can get into a ten sometimes if it’s stretch material and of course boy hips ... so my panties are tiny.”
“Shit I’m jealous, shut up. I’m a fourteen, and you’re what; five ten, five eleven?”
“Five ten,” Dave grinned.
“And legs that go up to your arse. D’you have a female name.”
“Of course, every tranny does. Mine’s Daphne.”
Wendy wagged her head then added thoughtfully.
“You could buy stuff here, after the shops are closed. You could come here alone. Dad goes home about three.”
“Nice offer Wend’ but I’ve got to sort out Briony’s car and Shirley will have to drive my Landrover home.”
“There’ll be other Tuesdays.”
“Yes I’m sure and yes I will. You’ve got some nice stuff here.”
Wendy preened herself as she replied.
“I try. Dragging Machynlleth into the twenty-first century is not easy.”
With that, Dave’s mobile rang.
“Hello Bri’ I’ll be there shortly.”
“Arfon’s in town!” Briony whispered fearfully.
The Ram 24.
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This chapter describes how the girls manage to avoid Arfon this first time. Sadly, he is a persistant obssessive thug who will keep coming back.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 24
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Old school classmate of Dave and Blodwen.
The Ram 24.
Dave cursed at the news.
“Damn! I’ll be there right away.”
“No, keep away.” Briony urged. “Nobody will make the connection. There’s nobody from the market in this cafe.”
“What about your car?”
“Leave it in the garage, I’ll go back with Blod and my two. Shirley can drive you, James and Tara home. Tell her to drive slowly and if he tries following us, well you know how slow a Landrover and trailer can be on The Forge Road, it’s narrow and steep. He’ll not be able to pass you. I’ll go to Blodwen’s farm, you carry on to Plas Las with Shirley and hers. Make sure you’re a long way behind so that he doesn’t see where I turn off.”
Dave considered the plan, decided the plan was a good one and so he made his goodbyes with Wendy. He quickly set about carrying it out while adding a few garnishments of his own. Blodwen and Shirley collected the Landrovers but they left Blodwens trailer securely locked in Wendy’s compound beside the shop. Only Dave’s Landrover was to tow a trailer. While the girls arranged the trailer equation, Dave visited his lawyers and then the police. He left depositions with both then returned to meet Shirley by pre-arrangement on their mobiles.
“Briony’s with Blod outside the cafe. They’re ready to roll.”
Dave spoke to Blodwen and they arranged for the pair of Landrovers to leave town together, Blodwen and Briony in front without a trailer while Shirley and Dave followed towing Dave's large double-axled sheep box.
As they anticipated, Arfon suspected that Briony was back in Machynlleth because one of his cronies recognised her from the news articles about the shooting. His crony had phoned him the moment he had spotted Briony in the market. Arfon had raced over the mountain road to reach Machynlleth and locate her. Learning that the market was shut he decided to park up at the junction of Heol Maengwyn, Forge road and Newtown road. He had calculated these were the roads Briony would most likely use if she was holed up somewhere local.
His guess proved accurate but he nearly missed her. He only just recognised her in the strange Landrover as it turned off Heol Maengwyn onto Forge Road, the narrow mountain road that took them to Forge, a tiny cluster of houses a few miles outside Machynlleth. He cursed as the Landrover turned and then another bloody farmer’s Landrover towing a bloody great trailer followed behind. Worse still, the woman driver with the trailer seemed to be hopeless with the trailer and it lumbered slowly while the other Landrover slowly disappeared from sight.
Arfon cursed furiously and tooted his horn ferociously but it was obvious that the woman in front was either oblivious or deaf to his desperate efforts. He flashed his lights and drove as close as he dared but it was obvious he would have done more harm to his car than to the heavy metal trailer.
His confrontational efforts only served to slow him further as the woman in front slowed down at a junction and stepped out to explain.
“What the hell are you doing girl!?” Dave cursed. “This bastard is dangerous!”
“I don’t know that. I’m going to suggest he follows the other road.”
“That’s a huge diversion. He won’t fall for that!”
“Well a woman can’t have an idiot like him following her. I can’t reverse this thing with the trailer; you can’t drive so he’ll have to go the other way.”
By now, Shirley was out of the car and walking back to Arfon’s car.
“If you are in a hurry, I suggest you go via the left fork. The road gets rougher but it’ll be faster than following me. I can’t reverse this thing with its trailer and it’s about three miles to the next suitable passing point. I suggest you go that way.”
Arfon cursed and almost snarled.
“Damn it woman you’re driving at a bloody snail’s pace!”
“I don’t know this road very well and I’m driving my passenger back to his house. I must ask you to be patient if you have to follow this road.”
Arfon cursed again then had a brainwave.
“Do you know the owner of the car that was ahead of you?”
“No. As I said, I’m new to the area. I’m just doing my friend a favour and driving him home.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
Shirley had to think quickly. She couldn’t tell him the truth or he would quickly put two and two together. She lied smoothly.
“If you must know, he had a bit too much to drink celebrating his sale of some livestock at the market. He’s not fit to drive home. I’m staying with him.”
Arfon fumed but was forced to simply sit and follow the Landrover and its trailer as Shirley slowly wound her way up the mountain road. Eventually they came to the small passing bay and she pulled over. As Arfon hurtled with his engine screaming and gravel spraying up from the road edge, Shirley turned to Dave.
“I think she should have made it by now.”
“She will. Blod knows this road as well as I do. He won’t make it though, if he carries on like that. There will be ice where the Frydwyllt brook spills over and if he hits that at the speed he’s going, he’ll lose it. The ice was there this morning and it’s still freezing this high up. He’s a stupid twat!”
“What’s a twat Uncle Dave?” Tara smirked.
Dave grinned and apologised.
“Sorry love, forgot we’ve got a young lady in the back.”
“She’s no lady,” James riposted as Tara thumped him affectionately.
“Now now children,” Dave retorted in the same humorous vein, “grow up and behave!”
Shirley smiled as the banter continued and she crept slowly as Dave advised her of the known hazards. Then they happened upon a scene that Dave had perfectly predicted. Arfon’s car was stuck in the hedge and he couldn’t reverse out with the ice under his wheels. There was little damage except a few muddy scrapes where he had skidded along and up onto the grassy bank. Then his front wheels had crossed over the diagonal drainage ditch and dropped in the little gully. There was no way he could free his car. Furthermore it was snowing heavily again. Shirley smirked as Dave chuckled.
“Stupid bastard! Maybe he’ll learn now.”
“How do we get past him?” Shirley asked.
“We can’t. We’ll have to haul him back onto the road. Look, he’s already eyeing up my winch.”
It was a somewhat subdued Arfon who approached the Landrover.
“I’m sorry I was so angry earlier, I need a hand.”
“So I see,” Shirley looked levelly at him. I suppose you want us to winch you out.”
“Could you? Please.” He added hastily remembering his manners.
“Yes I could, or rather my friend can. He knows how to operate the winch. This is his car.”
“Thanks. What do I do?”
Dave leaned over and activated the winch then instructed Arfon.
“Pull the hook and wire off the winch as I start to unwind the drum and be careful, it’s greasy.”
Arfon did as told and eventually the wire was attached to the lashing bolt in his bumper. Dave instructed Shirley to set the hand throttle then shouted to Arfon to stand clear. He did so and the winch easily pulled car smoothly out of the hedge. Arfon disconnected it then tried the brakes and engine. They worked satisfactorily and he stepped to Shirley proffering a five pound note.
“No thanks, I’d expect you to do the same. Next time be a little more courteous and drive a bit more thoughtfully. These mountain roads are dangerous but the hazards are different. There’s a couple more spots like this one where the streams occasionally flood the road and when it’s icy you can see what happens. It’s not all about speed and traffic.”
Arfon tried to appear contrite but his abusive nature bridled at Shirley’s censure. The word yes almost choked him as he gave a final reluctant ‘thank-you’ and shuffled off across the treacherous ice.
The four fell apart laughing as they watched him picking his way carefully up the hill obviously anticipating a skating rink at every hairpin. Shirley finally recovered her composure and turned to a still chuckling Dave.
“Blod should be home by now, shouldn’t she?
“Oh heck yes. Long ago.”
As they climbed steadily, the snow continued to get heavier higher up the hill. Where it had been just sleet in Machynlleth, altitude now played its part. Fortunately, several vehicles had passed over the road so there was no identification to be had from tyre tracks.
As they passed Cledwyn’s farm gate, Dave noted the feint, almost indistinguishable ruts already covered by snow down Cledwyn’s lane and confirmed to himself that Blodwen had gone down to the farm. Arfon would have no idea whose tyre tracks were who’s so the single tracks through Cledwyn’s gate would have meant nothing to him. Dave however, knew that the single tyre tracks through the gate and down the lane could only be Bowden’s. He nodded satisfaction as they continued through the snow until they approached his own gate. There he explained to Shirley.
“Take the trailer down to the yard then we’ll come back and make several passes in and out of the gate. That way it will look as though lots of people have passed here today. James can do the same with the eight thousand, ‘bout time he did something useful.”
James’s face lit up like a beacon. ‘Another opportunity to drive the big beast of a tractor.’ Though Dave wasn’t allowed to drive, he would accompany James to give instruction. Shirley followed in the Landrover to add to the track confusion.
After a minute, the entrance was a mess of slush and muddy tyre tracks; it looked as though people had been coming and going all day.
“If he comes back, d’you think he’ll notice?” Shirley asked.
“Doubt it. It’ll be dark soon anyway. Come on, let’s get the shopping in and have something to eat.”
Back in the house they were sat to the table when Blodwen rang.
“I don’t think he clocked where I pulled off. He wouldn’t know which were my tyre tracks and everybody else’s.”
Dave grinned as he added better news.
“Oh your tracks were well covered by the time he passed your gate. The silly bugger slid off where the Frydwyllt Brook spills over the bend. We found him embedded in the hedge. He had to beg for our help.”
“You didn’t help him did you?” Blodwen wondered.
“We had to, we couldn’t get past with the trailer it was too wide.”
“Briony’s here she wants to speak.”
“Hi darling. Is it safe enough to come up now?”
“Yes, but we won’t use the road. That idiot might be cruising up and down looking for some lead. Tell Blod to meet me by the forest gate and I’ll escort you through the snow with the eight thousand.”
Blodwen of course knew exactly where all the gates on both farms were and within minutes her Landrover was parked at Plas Las. Having completed his escort task with Dave supervising, James stepped down of the tractor with yet another fixed grin only meet Sion’s envious glare.
“Where you driving?” Sion asked.
James nodded and Sion turned to Dave.
“Why can’t I drive it?”
“Sorry Sion, you’re too young, the law won’t allow it, and besides, your feet won’t reach the pedals. No can do lad, you’ve got to be sixteen to drive the tractor in the fields and seventeen to drive on the roads.”
Sion was forced to accept the reasons but he still felt that James was usurping his previously privileged position as the ‘only son’. Dave sensed the issue bothering Sion so he explained.
“Don’t worry lad, James will be going home on Friday, you’ll have the whole farm to yourself.”
In the house, Dave started preparing dinner when the girls scolded him.
“There are enough of us to do that. You check the animals.” Briony ordered.
“But I always make my dinner. I’ve been doing it for years.” Dave protested.
“Well not tonight, there’s four competent girls here, gerr’ourra’d’kitchen!”
Dave sniffed and stomped off across the yard to feed the animals, naturally his shadow attached himself to Dave and they spent the time in the barn and paddocks until they heard a call from the kitchen door.
“Dii-iinnner!”
Sion and Dave grinned as they understood the unspoken agreement they had just made.
“Best let the girls take over the kitchen lad.” Dave observed as they trudged through the snow back to the house.
Sion looked up and asked.
“What about Daphne. It’s her kitchen if it’s anybody’s”
“Hmmm. Hadn’t thought of that. I’ll see what she has to say after dinner.”
Sion visibly brightened and when they arrived for dinner he was grinning expectantly. Nobody picked up on it though for Sion often arrived grinning happily after working outside with Dave. As they ate, the mood around the table was joyous and as the girls chatted away whilst clearing away, Dave slipped away un-noticed. Daphne appeared less than one hour later only to be scolded by Tara.
“Oh heck Daphne! I wish you told me you were coming down. I so wanted to see how you do your make-up. I’m bored just moping around the house.”
“Oh I’m sorry darling, yes I should have realised. It can’t be much fun stuck here on your own without friends your own age. Next time you can watch provided Shirley and Briony agree.” Daphne promised. “Where are the others?”
“In the drawing room. The women need a fourth for cards. Briony’s been feeding Ellairy while they waited for you. The boys are playing video games. I’m at a loose end. I’d loved to have watched you getting ready!”
“You’d need a chaperone darling. You’re still under-age to be visiting a Trans’ lady; alone; in her boudoir.”
“Sion’s seen you.”
“Yes but Briony was with us and then it was only after I had my skirt and blouse on.”
“Well I would only want to see the make-up bit and maybe help you choose a dress. That’s a lovely one by the way.”
“Why thank you darling.” Daphne replied as she kissed Tara on the lips. “Mwwaahh!”
Tara tensed momentarily then relaxed as Daphne stepped back again. Daphne sensed Tara’s youthful uncertainty.
“Don’t be afraid of me love. I’m not some sort of monster. I don’t attack little girls or something. Just think of Daphne as an auntie.”
Tara smiled, threw out her arms and almost leapt to embrace Daphne.
“Thanks Auntie Daph’. I just wasn’t sure how to treat you.”
As Tara wrapped her arms around Daphne she felt Daphne’s breasts pressing against her neck. She glanced up from Daphne’s reciprocated hug.
“Are they really real?”
“Yes love. Next time I change you can see but I want Briony and Shirley there. You have to remember I live on the edge of censure and condemnation.”
“That's not fair, I know you're really nice. Anyway, watching you get ready would be fun. I could borrow one of your smaller dresses.
“What size are you love?”
“Ten to twelve but I can get into an eight if it’s stretchy.”
“Well I’m a twelve to fourteen but there might be the odd little dress that could go with a belt.”
“Oooh that would be fabulous. You’ve got a brill wardrobe. Thos red ones I saw are lush!”
“Well, the one with the rouched ribbing should fit you, it’s a tubular stretchy style and I got some waspie belts to emphasize your waist. I’ll tell you what, while I’m playing cards, you can go and rummage through my wardrobe. We’ll just tell the other girls where you are.”
Tara let out a squeal of delight. Since first seeing the wardrobe she’d been dying to have a really good look. They joined the card players and Daphne explained. Briony and Shirley agreed to the deal but with one rider.
“No make-up and no underwear. Just dresses and stuff you understand.”
“I’ve got my own make-up and who’d want to swap underwear? Ugh!”
“There’s packs of brand new underwear up there darling and some of it’s rather tasty.” Briony warned.
“Well her bras are too big for me,” Tara giggled.
“Yes but her panties aren’t, Daphne’s got slender boy hips. She fits into size ten or even eights if they’re stretchy enough.”
Tara squealed with amusement as she riposted.
“What! All of her? And how would you know Auntie Briony?”
“Don’t be rude girl!” Shirley admonished her.
“No Shirl’ let her know. It’ll scotch any rumours.” Daphne pointed out as she turned to Tara. “Young lady, Briony and I have not slept with each other, we have not had intercourse. She only knows my knicker size because she had to borrow some emergency clothes after the accident before Christmas. As to bra sizes, any girl can make a reasonable guess at another girls bra size now mine is a thirty four to thirty six C or B depending on the cup type and style. There, it’s no secret now is it? Now off you go and indulge yourself. Remember, abide by Briony’s rules, she is eventually to become mistress of this house.”
“Gosh Auntie Daph’, you make it sound like some sort of dynastic noble family.”
“Go on. Be off! Enjoy yourself and let us see your final selection. You can take a pair of tights from the stock and they’ll be yours to keep. As to the dresses, if it’s one of my favourites, you can’t keep it but we’ll be going shopping in Birmingham this weekend anyway. You can indulge your teenaged fantasies there. Go on.”
Tara circuited the room hugging and kissing all four women then she skipped joyously upstairs to Daphne’s bedroom.
‘Licence to dress!’ She told herself. ‘Thank you, thank you Auntie Daph!’
The Ram 25
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This chapter describes events the following day when the friends make an error of judgement and returne to Machynlleth the following day.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 25
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
The Ram 25.
Dave was preparing breakfast early when the phone rang. He half knew who it was; only one person would call before six thirty, it had to be Blodwen.
“Hello Blod’.”
“Wow did you know it was me,” she asked.
“Nobody else would phone at this time unless it was an emergency. I’ve got no relatives to speak of; nobody knows Briony or Shirley are here so it had to be you. Only you know how early I get up every morning. It had to be you.”
“Yeah, it figures. What choo’ doin’ today?”
“Nothing much, feed the livestock and entertain the kids. Can’t do much else until the snow properly clears and at the moment it’s still bloody freezing hard.”
“I was thinking of going into town to see Wendy again, kick over the traces and stuff. I didn’t realise how much I’ve missed her. Has it really been nine years?”
“Well we drifted apart after you left Uni, and that was nine years ago. Did you ever go into Machynlleth once you went to col’?”
“Uhm, not much.”
“So that’s another three years. That’s nearer twelve. Think about it. Twelve years, she’s got married and had a brood of kids as well as taking over her dad’s shop in that time.
“I think I saw her once or twice when I was at uni. You know, to wave to when going to and fro to the market with my dad on the occasional Tuesday.”
“Just to wave?” Dave replied. “Not very sociable was it.”
Dave sensed Blodwen’s resentment even over the phone.
“I did have issues remember, I was just out and still nervous. I was afraid; Wendy or even you might have invited me to a dance or something.”
“What! You were afraid of me? When did I ever go to a dance, except those school hops?”
“That’s how it was for me. I was still pretty mixed up and frightened. Look, I would love to go and see her again. Make up for lost times, apologise for appearing to drop her; all that stuff. I mean, she was pretty okay about my coming out to her and when you did for that matter. She deserves a renewal of friendship more than I do. She deserves both our friendships.”
“Well if we go it’s after eleven. There’s the stock to feed and the family to get ready ... babies and logistics you understand.”
“No problem, I’ll bell you at ten thirty. Byeee.”
Dave stood holding the dead phone for a few moments. He’d never had Blod down for being a sentimental softie. He was sipping his coffee and reading livestock prices on the internet when Briony appeared. He looked up and smiled, even with her hair uncombed and no make-up she was still a very attractive woman. He asked her.
“Morning darling, did you sleep well. D’you want to go into Machynlleth again?”
“Is it safe to? Arfon’s still looking.”
“He’ll be getting the solicitor’s letter today I should think, telling him of the court requirement to leave you alone. He’ll be a fool if he ignores a court order.”
Briony frowned disdainfully.
“He is a fool Dave! He’s also dangerous, violent and single minded.”
“We can’t just sit hiding up here all the time. Besides the older two will be getting bored.”
Briony was still not convinced but another month of keeping house, cooking and just looking at snow, snow and more snow just did not bear thinking about. Even Dave and Sion got to go out and feed the animals. She relented as Dave handed her a mug of coffee.
“Yes okay then, we might as well do it; oh thanks.”
She nursed the hot coffee in her hands and settled by the Aga. The house was more than warm enough but sitting there savouring the Aga’s heat in the privacy of what would become her kitchen looking at who would become her husband gave the quiet moment a special value. He caught her studying him and glanced back shyly.
“What choo’ lookin’ at gurl?”
“You. What choo’ doin’?”
“Checking stock prices, Newtown market is selling at slightly higher, I’ll check it out next week instead of Machynlleth.”
“So you’ll have to go to Machynlleth today then, or sometime this week.” Briony observed.
Dave looked at her and furrowed his brow as he asked.
“Why?”
“I’ve got my suspicions. Wendy’s got some nice stuff in her shop, and today’s half closing. It’ll be an excellent opportunity for Blodwen to renew old friendships and for you to ... you know, expand the envelope. We’ve also got to pick up Blodwen’s trailer.”
Dave looked at her as his jaw dropped.
“My God! You’re clairvoyant. I was just about to broach the dress subject with you.”
“Oh I’m all for it. I think Tara should be there as well. She can learn a lot.”
“Well Shirley will definitely be there, she goes shopping with Rachel most weekends. Tara’s mother doesn’t need to know.”
“What about the boys?”
“I can leave Sion with Elspeth and her kids, James can go for a wander around the town, he’s got his mobile.”
“Sion might want to come with us; he’s used to seeing Daphne now.”
“Yes, but is Wendy ready for the full monty? An eight-year-old wandering around the lady’s fashion section while a tee-girl is changing.”
“Hmm, maybe you’re right. I’ll phone her.”
They finished their breakfasts just as the rest of the house was stirring. Dave left to check the animals while Briony commenced playing ‘mine host’ with what she had now come consider as ‘her guests’. By the time James and Sion had finished breakfast, Dave had the trailer loaded with mangles and ready to feed the sheep. The boys worked up a huge appetite as they delved away flinging the mangles out to the gathering sheep and they returned at half nine to consume what was virtually a second breakfast. Dave took the opportunity to phone and check with Wendy who was excited at the thought of meeting Daphne, then he disappeared up to the bedroom only for Daphne to appear at half ten. Briony grinned at the unidentifiable figure before her.
“My god girl, you pass even when in ordinary street clothes. I like the skinny jeans and boots.”
Dave smiled back as Shirley added her comments.
“I can’t wait to see Wendy’s face. I really like that fur jacket, we won't find you if it snows again.”
Daphne grinned appreciatively.
“D'you really like it. next time we're in Birmingham I can get you one. Well, I'm ready girl. I’ll have to grasp the bull by the horns, come on let’s meet Blod. I’ve chosen the Landrover County this time, then we can all fit in one vehicle. It’s got more seats.”
Everybody scrambled into the Landrover County and the dogs decided they wanted to com. They had grown attached to all the fuss and attention that Sion and Tara lavished upon them. Dave erected the dog grill across the back of the rear seats and the dogs obediently leapt into the rear section. Sion joined them but Shirley suggested that Tara sit with them.
“You don’t want dog hair all over you if you’re going to buy a new dress.”
Tara was torn between fussing and cuddling the dogs or buying a dress. She stood undecided as the rest sorted themselves into seating arrangements. Daphne watched in the driving mirror and grinned to herself, ‘Tara; only fifteen and the typical ‘child-woman’ who had not yet quite given up her childhood.’
“Are you coming darling?” Daphne asked. “You can put any new clothes in the front and play with the dogs coming back.”
This made Tara’s mind up for her and she clambered in to sit next to Briony who was nursing Ellairy under the shawl.
“Can I see Auntie Bri?” Tara wondered hopefully.
“Well there’s not much to see my lovely but if you want, here, have a look.”
“She raised the shawl to shield it from the sixteen year-year-old James and Tara bent in to look.”
“Does it hurt?” Tara asked.
“Sometimes love, now she’s cut her first teeth.”
Tara winced and withdrew her head.
“Ouch! That must hurt, why haven’t you stopped?”
“I am slowly. She’ll be weaned in a few weeks.
Tara settled back and they soon arrived at Blodwen’s.
“I might as well join you in this, it’s pointless taking my car as well.” Blodwen observed.
“That was my plan Blod’, let’s not waste fuel with two short-wheel-bases when we can all get in this.
“Good thinking Batman!” Blodwen nodded.
Daphne then suggested.
“Look, I’m a bit wary of somebody seeing my Landrover being driven by a strange woman. You drive and I’ll be a passenger. People will simply think you’ve borrowed my County Landrover cos’ it’s a thirteen-seater.”
“My gosh, this will be a typical women’s institute outing.” Blodwen remarked.
“Speak for yourselves,” James protested with a chuckle.
“Yeah, not quite Jam and Jerusalem though is it?” Shirley laughed.
With the mood of frivolity set, the journey passed quickly and after dropping Sion off at Elspeths, they arrived at Wendy’s shop at eleven forty. The town was already quiet as shops were winding down for half-day closing. Wendy was going over her books as the last shopper was leaving and she was preparing to lock up. Blodwen had an idea and she turned to Daphne as she parked up out of sight of Wendy’s shop.
“Tell you what darling, if you really want to give yourself a confidence boost, we’ll wait here and you go into the shop alone.
I’ll lay odds she won’t realise it’s you.”
“D’you reckon?” Daphne asked nervously. “Are you being honest; do I pass?”
Everybody, including James chorused YES! Daphne was compelled to accept their unanimous verdict. Blodwen scolded her affectionately.
“Bloody hell Daph’ think of it as Birmingham, you pass there.”
Daphne shrugged and strutted off across the road towards the wide entrance to the live-stock market. Shirley watched and smiled as she turned to the others.
“Just look at that walk! There’s no doubt about it sisters, Daphne’s a girl.”
“She walks more girly than I do,” Blodwen admitted rather reluctantly. “How the hell does she change so much from being Dave. I mean those bloody hips are swivelling like Marylyn!”
“It’s spooky,” Briony added, “I mean, I’ve seen Dave walking and he walks from the shoulder like all men. How the hell does she change so effectively? It must be the heels. Shall we wait here or follow her in?” Briony asked.
“Wait here,” replied the more experienced Shirley, “Wendy will make the connection the moment we walk through the door.”
“The even more experienced Blodwen observed.
“She might not. She’s expecting me and therefore half expecting you girls. She might be expecting Dave later, when the shop would normally be closed for half-day closing. If we go in now and she hasn’t yet read Dave, she might still not make the connection even after we’ve walked in.”
“So what shall we do?” Briony pressed.
It was James who brought some reason to the dilemma.
“If Wendy’s read her already it won’t matter. If she hasn’t read her she’s going to know pretty soon anyway. It’ll be fun seeing Wendy realise that the chick in skinny jeans, boots and fur jacket is actually Dave or rather Daphne.”
The girls turned as one to respond to the unexpectedly adult observation from a boy still only sixteen.
“That was remarkably astute young man.” Blodwen applauded him.
“And very mature for one so young. Well said James.” Shirley added.
James blushed at first then realised the girls hadn’t made a move.
“Well let’s not hang around here then. If Wendy hasn’t read her yet, I’m dying to see Wendy’s reaction when she realises.”
The others came to their senses and Blodwen pulled out of the parking bay to park right outside the shop. Through the window they spotted Wendy holding up a dress and discussing it with Daphne. Blodwen looked hard and concluded.
“D’you know, I don’t think she’s clocked Daphne yet. Come on girls time for some fun.”
They bundled out of the Landrover County and almost burst into the shop in their eagerness to be there when Wendy realised. Their noisy appearance distracted Wendy and she turned to Daphne.
“Excuse me for a moment please. I’ll be back in a minute madam, just look through these lines for a moment while I deal with my friends.”
Daphne smiled and murmured ‘yes’ politely while Wendy reluctantly left her to her own devices. She approached Blodwen somewhat impatiently.
“Hi Blod’ can you spare me a few minutes, that lady in the hat looks like a genuine buyer. I could make a sale here, can you bear with me?”
“Anything for you Wendy, we’ll just look around the shop. I’m not looking for anything but this young lady Tara is. She liked those dresses you showed her yesterday. Come on girls, forward.”
Before she had gone a step Wendy stopped her and whispered urgently.
“I thought Dave was coming as well.”
“Oh yes,” Blodwen replied, “he’ll be here any minute.”
“Well he’ll have to wait until the shop is closed. You know ... the other customers, that lady in the hat.”
Blodwen just managed to contain her snort of amusement and replied.
“Of course Wendy, I’m sure you don’t want to have a ‘man-in-a-frock’ lumbering through your door, leastways not while you’ve got customers. You go and see to that lady there first.”
Daphne heard most of the conversation and struggled to contain her amusement. As she struggled to stop bursting out laughing, she busied herself deep amongst the dresses until she caught Wendy’s eye to indicate she had found some styles she liked. Wendy, ever alert to a sale, excused herself from Blodwen and the girls to attend to Daphne’s choice. As she picked her way between the racks, Daphne was holding up several different dresses.
“Can I try these on please?”
“Certainly madam, the changing rooms are just there, by those other ladies.”
She helped Daphne with the assortment of frocks and showed her the biggest cubicle whilst advising she was immediately available to help with any fastenings. Daphne thanked her softly and pulled the curtain closed.
Wendy returned to the girls and they started helping Tara choose an exciting LBD, her first ever. Tara finally copied Daphne’s example and took several dresses in to change. Wendy took up station by the changing rooms entrance and listened as Daphne and Tara struck up a conversation about styles and suitability.
‘They seem overly familiar with each other,’ she thought. ‘I’d better just see that everything’s alright.’
She approached Shirley and asked discreetly.
“Your daughter’s quite happy on her own is she?”
Shirley smiled. “She’s my step daughter, but she’s like most young people today, you know, girls are much bolder these days.
“All the same, I think she might need a bit of advice, I heard her asking the other lady about hemlines. Perhaps you’d best come with me and just check. Young girls can sometimes be unwittingly outrageous and consequently vulnerable; you know.”
She gave Shirley a ‘significant look’ and virtually commanded her to accompany her into the changing rooms. They entered to find Daphne in the shortest dress she had selected and Tara wearing something even more daring as she was posing in front of the mirror with Daphne’s hat on. The first thing that struck Wendy was that the older lady had a beautiful pair of legs. Realising that everything was as it should be, Wendy asked them their preferences. Daphne turned to reply.
“I just want to check the last style. I like all of them; it’s just so-oo hard to decide.”
“Me too,” Tara added. “This one’s cool and the red one is lush!”
“Well you can’t have both!” Shirley announced flatly. Whereupon Daphne turned and said.
“Oooh I don’t know Shirl’ she’s been ever so helpful helping me get these dresses on. I think she deserves two dresses, don’t you?”
Wendy frowned.
“Do you two ladies know each other?”
“You bet they do.” Tara announced, keen to be the bearer of enlightenment.
Wendy looked at Shirley who nodded as Briony and Blodwen appeared at the entrance. They had been ear-wigging and did not want to miss the fun as Shirley replied.
“Why yes, she’s a good friend of my husbands’.
Wendy turned to look at Daphne but the penny still had not dropped. Daphne wagged her head and sighed with amusement.
“You still don’t get it do you Wend’?”
“Get what.”
“Get me. Get that I’m Blodwen’s oldest friend, Briony’s white knight, your old school friend. It’s Dave girl, I’m Dave, also known as Daphne!”
Wendy’s jaw slowly sagged as the dawning struck her but she still couldn’t believe it.
“No. Never!”
Dave changed his carefully developed feminine modulation and only then did Wendy finally recognise Dave’s voice.
“Oh my God. You are Dave! Or I’m thinking; more correctly, Daphne in that mode.”
“The very same Wendy; and you’re right. I’m Daphne when I’m en-femme.”
Wendy let out a girlish squeal of excitement as the realisation suddenly sent a thrill though her body. She actually felt a delightful twinge in her loins as the sensation settled in her core.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! But you’re just so convincing. Is that the real you, you’re not even wearing a corset are you?”
“Nope,” Daphne grinned, “This is the real me, all of me.”
Wendy took this as an invitation to step forward and her eyes couldn’t resist just dropping down to confirm the cleavage. Daphne admonished her with a chuckle.
“Now, now, Wendy! Talk to the eyes not the tits.”
“Are they really yours?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God Dave, how long have you been; you know; transgendered.”
“Silly question Wend; all my life.”
“You mean like gays?”
“Exactly like gays.”
“So when did you find out?”
“I was about eleven when I became certain I was partly a girl but I always wanted to play with girl’s and boy’s toys from a very early age about three or four. Of course there were no girl's toys in my childhood cos’ there were no other children. I didn’t really understand until just a couple of years before puberty, after my Grandmother died. I started cross-dressing and then stuff began to make sense.”
“Jeeze! You must have been lonely up in that big house.”
“Not really, with my mum and grandma dead, I was able to find old female clothes up in the attic. Daphne eventually had her own wardrobe up there. By the time I was sixteen, dad was already getting sick so he never went up into the attic. As you know he died when I was nineteen and Daphne never looked back.”
Wendy nodded sadly as she remembered the death that shocked Machynlleth and the subsequent speculations amongst the farmers in the market about the future of Plas Graig Las. Then she recalled the surprised yet pleased conclusions by those same farmers when they learned that ‘The Young-un’ was going to try and make a go of it ... and he had! She considered the history then ran it past the many conversations she had had with LGBT people in the rag trade. Her conclusion was that Dave or Daphne had had a better childhood than most. She added.
“So none of the heartache that other LGBT people go through, you know ... telling parents and all that.”
“No. The only thing was that I was working so hard keeping the farm going; Daphne never had much time to play. I was twenty three or so before Daphne finally flew.”
“And that’s when I found out,” Blodwen interrupted. “She bumped into me in a club in Birmingham and I never recognised my life-long childhood friend. She’s good isn’t she?”
“She’s bloody fantastic!” Wendy replied, still hardly believing what she was seeing.
“Well let’s not spend all day gossiping,” Daphne concluded, “I want to try on the last dress, the red one.”
Wendy suddenly remembered the situation and cast about uncertainly for a moment. Tara calmed her fears.
“Don’t worry Mrs Williams, I’ve seen Daphne dressing before and she’s only changing her dress, not her underwear or tights.”
“Are you sure? Okay then, just let me lock up the shop.”
This done, Wendy returned to fuss and fiddle with the rear zip as Daphne posed in front of the mirror. Finally Daphne grinned and nodded.
“I’ll take the red, the black and the blue but not the green or yellow.”
Wendy could hardly believe her luck as Daphne continued.
“What about you Tara?”
There was moment’s hesitation as Tara worried about appearing greedy but she caught Daphne’s generous smile in the mirror and squealed her delight.
“Can I have the black and the purple?”
“What about the white one as well?" Daphne added. "I thought that looked really pretty on you. You’re petite enough.”
Tara swallowed with stunned delight and the squeal turned to a joyful shriek.
“Aunty Daph, you’re brill! I’ll love you forever.”
She danced an excited jig and disappeared into the cubicle to redress in her skinny jeans to emerge similarly dressed to Daphne. Both wore skinny jeans and boots but Tara was wearing her three-quarter length waisted, white coat while Daphne was wearing her short white fur jacket and black hat. Briony couldn’t resist saying.
“You almost look like book-ends.”
Eventually the purchases were completed and Wendy was surprised to notice that Daphne had her own credit card. They agreed to go for afternoon tea so as Wendy shut up shop for half day closing, Blodwen and James attached her trailer from the compound. Blodwen drove back into the town centre to Dave’s regular restaurant. As they were parking the car and trailer in the rear car-park of ‘The White Lion’, Briony spotted Arfon but worse still, Arfon spotted Briony.
The style Daphne was wearing when she went into machynlleth.
The Ram 26
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This Chapter describes the first major attempt by Arfon to force Briony and the children to return to the marital home. The first inklings of Dave's transgenderism are starting to ripple through the local community as Arfo's assault involves the police and Daphne having to give evidence.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 26.
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy... Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane... Machynlleth WPC (2 years below Dave & Blodwen at school.)
The Ram 26.
As Arfon spotted Briony his expression turned almost to a snarl of rage and Briony squealed in Panic.
“Start the car! Start the car, let’s get out of here!”
Blodwen cursed and explained.
“I can’t just take off. The trailer’s parked up tight in this bay. It’ll take several back-ups to get out now. Besides, his car’s partially blocking the entrance, I can’t get past with or without the trailer.”
“He’ll attack me I know he will.”
Briony started to physically cower behind Shirley as James realised he was the only male in the car, for Daphne looked nothing like a man. James also cursed that they had left the dogs at Elspeth’s house to occupy Sion and his cousins.
‘The dogs would have been useful now.’ He surmised.
As the fear in the car became palpable Daphne had secretly speed-dialled the police station and the phone was answered immediately; even before Arfon had crossed the car-park. As the station sergeant answered Arfon started banging furiously on the side window were Briony cowered. Blodwen wound down the driver’s window a fraction and asked.
“What do you want?”
“I want to speak with that bitch!” Arfon roared.
Blodwen made a point of turning to ask Briony who screamed that she did not want to speak to Arfon. There was no doubt about Briony’s terror. Blodwen resumed speaking to Arfon.
“I think the message is clear, she doesn’t want to speak to you.”
Arfon gave a bellow of rage and thumped hard against the side window. It cracked slightly and showed every sign of breaking inwards within a few blows. Arfon was a powerful man. Blodwen screamed for help as Arfon yanked hard at the door handle.
“If you don’t open this door, I’ll fucking smash your bloody car window here and now.”
Blodwen shouted as loud as she could.
“I’m not opening any bloody door; I’ll wind down the window if you’ll step back.”
“Just tell that bitch to step out!”
“No!” Briony screamed. “No bloody way.”
By now, Shirley had realised what Daphne was doing with her mobile so she took out her own mobile and handed it to James who had a camera shot invisible to Arfon from his side of the car. She whispered urgently.
“Video this! Don’t let him see you.”
James fully understood his step-mother’s instruction and her phone was the same model as his. He switched on the video and shielded it from Arfon’s view as he videoed Arfon sticking his head uninvited through the opened window and bellowing abusively in Blodwen’s face.
“If you don’t open these doors you fucking bitch. I’ll smash my way in.”
Blodwen shrank as Arfon’s spittle splashed into her face. She was terrified but she stuck doggedly to her efforts to reason with the brute.
“I’m not opening any doors until you calm down. This woman’ in the back is terrified.”
Arfon thumped the door and reached in to release the catch. Blodwen struggled to stop him and he crushed her wrist in his powerful grip. She screamed in pain and cursed him as a sneer of victory spread across his snarl.
Daphne had seen enough, she took her comb with its pointed handle and jabbed the comb as hard as she could into the back of Arfon’s hand. It went deep and drew blood causing Arfon to curse but it hardly even slowed him down.
“You bitch! You’ll pay for that.”
His hesitation gave Daphne a chance to re-lock the door but it would hardly delay the brute for long. It did however give James an idea. He sneaked the camera back to his mother after directly connecting it to U-tube and his own laptop that Rachel had indulged him that Christmas. He whispered back to Shirley.
“Keep videoing auntie; this is going out to U-tube and my lap top. Even if he snatches it, it’s on record now. I’m going to get help.”
Before Shirley could stop him, James erupted from his door on the rear passenger side and Arfon was momentarily distracted as he realised the boy was obviously going to get help. Arfon roared after the boy to stop or he’d get him but the sixteen-year-old James was too fast. Whilst Arfon was big and powerful, he wouldn’t catch the faster boy who was already exiting the car park and shouting out his alarm. He dashed into the restaurant of the White Lion and begged them to call the police. Two farmers recognised him as the boy who had accompanied Dave at the market and they asked him what was wrong. The waiter was already calling nine-nine-nine as the farmers accompanied James into the street. They lumbered after the boy back to the car park to find Arfon dragging Briony back to his own car. James screamed when he saw what was tantamount to kidnap and he dashed ahead of the men to try and interfere.
Arfon lunged out with a blow that would certainly have disabled James had not Briony struggled violently when she realised ‘back-up’ was arriving. Arfon’s blow only glanced off James’s shoulder and caused him to slam against the car as he clung desperately onto Arfon’s jacket. Arfon cursed and struggled to free the limpet-like boy as finally Daphne, and both Farmers arrived. In another vicious swipe he slammed James against the car again and the boy bounced to the ground.
Seeing that he was likely to be caught, Arfon cursed loudly, released Briony, then flung himself into his car and tore off scattering gravel everywhere including the pursuer’s faces.
As the car hurtled through the narrow exit, it screeched left on Heol Pentrerhedyn towards the clock tower and disappeared from view. Seeing James groaning on the gravel, everybody except Daphne was too shocked to dash into the street to see which way Arfon had gone.
Daphne tried to get to the street in time but her stylish heels were not made for running. When she emerged from the exit onto the street, Arfon was out of sight.
“Damn! Damn! Damn!” She cursed as two people who were coming out of The White Lion stared in shock. “Did you see which way it went?” She asked them.
“Sorry Miss, we were inside when we heard the tyre squeal.”
Daphne searched around but on a half day closing, Machynlleth was virtually empty. There were no other witnesses. She returned to where James was now sitting up with a nasty cut to his scalp and tears in his eyes. Shirley and Briony were kneeling over him and Blodwen was talking to the two farmers. Daphne joined Briony and Shirley as they tried to stem the blood.
“There’s a first aid kit in the winter locker behind the right hand passenger door of my car, I’ll get it.”
She returned with the box just as a police car arrived. Shirley looked up.
“Here they come, day late and dollar short.”
Dave looked at his watch and censured her kindly.
“Oh I don’t know Shirl’ It’s only three minutes since I speed dialled them. That’s a pretty good response.”
“A lot can happen in three minutes.”
“Yeah, a person can be shot in a second. A lot’s happened here in three minutes. They did pretty well.”
The police went immediately to Jamie’s side and asked if the ambulance had been called. Daphne cursed, she had just been getting out of her side of their car as Jamie had been slammed against Arfon’s car. In her haste to see which way Arfon had gone she had not realised how much Jamie was hurt.
“We’ll call them now,” the policewoman advised as her sergeant bent over Jamie. He watched Shirley expertly checking Jamie over and realised there was little more he could do.
“Are you medically qualified?”
“I’ve got medical training,” Shirley replied almost as a casual aside.
“Oh thank God for that. Is he badly hurt?”
“I don’t think so; fortunately the side of the car was a flat surface so there seems to be no fractures. He’s split his scalp and he’s a little concussed.”
“He’s bleeding though.”
“Yes, scalp wounds can bleed heavily he’ll need stitches. Fortunately, he doesn’t appear to bleeding from his ears.”
The officer heard the ambulance crew on the emergency frequency and he handed the radio to Shirley. She explained the situation and they had only to wait.”
The others were giving statements and the mobile video was shown to the police. They asked to keep the phone and Shirley explained.
“The lad sent it out on U Tube just in case the man tried to destroy the phone. I’m afraid it’s hard evidence but it’s already in the public arena. It’s actually my phone, he left his at home.”
“No matter, we deal with that all the time. Once we’ve got the details of the phone and downloaded the chip, you can have it back before any legal proceedings.”
“Oh there are certainly going to be legal proceedings.” Blodwen declared. “He’s smashed the window and terrified us all. Not to mention his attacking Briony. She’s got bad bruising as well, look.”
The police woman was studying the video and nodded as she handed the phone to her colleague as she inspected Briony’s arms, shoulder and face.
“All the evidence we’ll ever need sergeant.”
“Good. I’m afraid we’ll have to keep the phone temporarily miss.”
Shirley bridled at the imposition. There was stuff on her phone that she held strictly confidential.
“I’d rather you didn’t officer, there’s confidential stuff on there.”
“I’s sorry madam. We have to confirm the video came from this phone and we can only do that down at the station with an I.T., Expert."
“And what about my confidential stuff?”
“We can always delete it.”
“No you can’t. It’s taken me years to accumulate all the stuff on my phone.”
“Haven’t you sent it to your computer?”
“Not all of it. The children might see it.”
“Oh.”
“What d’you mean; oh?”
“Well is it stuff that might ... you know, be sensitive?”
“Only to me. There’s no kiddie porn or anything like that. Just pictures of me and my partner ... and friends who might not like to be outed.”
“Outed?”
Shirley was becoming exasperated.
“Oh stop playing dumb sergeant. You know what I mean. They’re private pictures; some of our friends would not like the pictures of them getting into the public arena.”
“Why?”
Shirley cursed softly.
“Are you deliberately being obtuse? Okay then I’ll tell you bluntly, in front of all my friends here. My husband is ‘LGBT,’ there are pictures of him on there. That’s not an issue, my husband is out as a transgendered person but there are friends in the background who would not want those pictures made public! They’re not illegal, transvestism is not illegal but you can bet your bottom dollar they would be pilloried and victimised if it became public. They’d possibly lose their jobs. If those pictures become public, I will sue the police and I’ve got five witnesses here.”
The sergeant frowned thoughtfully until Daphne made a suggestion.
“Sergeant, might I suggest the lady be allowed to take her phone home and download the video to her computer then give you a memory stick. It’s hardly likely to matter is it?”
The sergeant was about to explain when his radio went off. He frowned as he dug it out.
“Sergeant Hughes.” ...... “Yes.” ...... “Damn!”
He turned to the WPC.
“We've got another emergency Jane! The ambulance crew have got this in hand, we’ve got a kidnapping.”
All the friends made the same connection. Arfon must have realised his son Sion wasn’t in the car and surmised that he had been left with Briony’s sister Elspeth. Daphne asked the Sergeant.
“Would that be in an Elspeth Wilkins in Cae Crwn Sergeant?”
Sergeant Jack Davies looked hard at Daphne and asked.
“How did you know?”
Briony explained as Daphne decided to disconnect the trailer from her Landrover county. At that moment, the ambulance arrived for James so Briony and Daphne clambered into their own Landrover to follow the police while Shirley, Tara and Blodwen stayed with James as he was loaded into the ambulance.
The police car arrived outside Elspeth’s house with a wail and Daphne arrived a few seconds later to find the whole street in uproar. Elspeth was standing in the street hysterical with fear and remorse while the police woman was trying to calm her down as she kept repeating.
“I couldn’t stop him he was crazy with anger! I couldn’t stop him, I couldn’t!”
The bruises on her arms and face told their own story, Elspeth had obviously tried to prevent Arfon but he was a powerful brute. When she saw Briony she almost collapsed with remorse.
“I’m sorry sis, I’m sorry!”
Briony reached out and held her sister who simply broke down into loud explosive sobs. With the police woman’s help, Briony finally managed to coax Elspeth back into the house. Daphne followed them in with the sleeping Ellairy in her arms. Sergeant Jack Davies just looked at the baby and wagged his head.
“How can she sleep through all this?”
Daphne just wagged her head uncomprehendingly.
“Don’t know sarge, any other time the slightest noise seems to wake her up.”
“Well I’ll leave Jane to see to the two sisters I’m wondering if you’ve any idea where he might have gone.”
Daphne wagged her head as she wracked her brains but had to concede she had no idea. It was unlikely that he’d take the boy back to his own house because that’s the first place the police would come looking. Then she explained to the sergeant.
“I’m thinking he might have received the court order banning him from approaching Briony and that might have triggered his rage.”
“Well if he’s broken a court order, he’s in big trouble.” The sergeant advised.
“He doesn’t seem to care about the niceties of law; he thinks he’s a law unto himself.” Briony said as she retreated back into Elspeth's house.
“That will change when he’s in Prison. We’ll start at his house and go from there.”
“He could anywhere though.” Daphne sighed.
“Don’t worry. We’ve got the car’s description and we’ll be despatching a patrol car to his house in Llanidloes.”
Daphne had a sudden thought.
“They won’t have to break the door down. If he’s as daft as I think, he won’t have bothered to change the locks. I’ll bet Briony’s keys still fit the doors.”
Sergeant Davies nodded approvingly and they went inside to collect Briony’s keys. She dug them out of her handbag and handed them over.
“Don’t lose them. The front door’s a bit stiff, the back door opens easily. If he’s not there, he might have gone around to his mothers’ or either of his brothers.”
She gave their addresses and as much other information as she could then continued sharing her misery with her sister. Daphne joined them in the house and started making tea. Whenever she was stressed or unsure of herself, Daphne made tea or coffee. They sat fretting in the house waiting for news but nothing came and the girls were getting seriously frightened. Whilst a police officer stood guard at the door in case Arfon came back for Ellairy, Daphne explained she had to return to her house. She told the police guard that she was leaving the girls in Elspeth’s house and making her way to Plas Graig Las. At that she whistled for her dogs which had been staying with Sion and his cousins at Elspeths house. They trotted obediently to the Landrover and Dave let them into the back. She was just about to climb in when Jane the Policewoman approached her
“You’ll need to finish your statement to us about the incident at the White Lion first, while it’s fresh in your mind.” Policewoman Jane advised her.
Daphne knew Jane well. She had been a couple of years below Dave, Blodwen and Wendy at school but Machynlleth was a small town and the school was quite small. There had been occasional events at the school where the classes had mixed and Dave had once even fancied Jane. Nothing ever came of it though. Now appearing as Daphne, Dave debated ‘coming out to her’ or waiting until he was forcibly outed in the family courts. She decided to remain Daphne and completed her statement. In the stress of the events Daphne had forgotten one thing; name and address!
Jane looked up as Daphne gave her last words and she smiled.
“Well thank you Miss uuuhmm ... Your full name and address please.”
Daphne cursed silently and shifted uneasily as her mind raced. She knew it wasn’t illegal to use another name provided it was not used to defraud or mislead people. Indeed, the bank had been more than pleased to issue her with two credit cards and she used them as and when. Now however she was in a dilemma. This was a legal situation and a police matter. She was pretty sure they would want and indeed need her full identity to make the statement legal in court. Her hesitation caught Jane’s attention and she looked up from her notebook.
“Is there something else?”
“Oh; uuuhm no ... well — yes there is. Can I speak to you in the privacy of the car?”
“Yours or mine?” Jane replied.
“Yours is best, the dogs might lick you to death in mine, although they’re separated by the grill.”
They sat in the police car and Daphne haltingly explained.
“There uuuhm, there might be a problem with my name and address.”
“Why?” Jane asked innocently.
“Well ... I, I’m not, I’m not all that I uuuhm seem.”
“Go on.”
“Well, I, I’m ... oh to hell with it. Should I give a toss anymore?” He scolded himself.
Jane frowned and looked up from her poised pen and notebook.
“Is there a problem?”
Daphne was now reconciled to the issue she was about to reveal. Crunch time had arrived. She turned and dug out her driving license.
“That’s my name and address.” She handed the plastic ID license then dug deeper into her handbag to produce the green paper counterfoil.
Jane had only glanced at the photograph on the license then her jaw sagged ever so slightly. Daphne had to admire Jane’s aplomb as she glanced once at Daphne and took the counterfoil with the full ID and legal history. Then she turned it over and glanced at the little box at the very bottom of the counterfoil. There she found the name ‘Daphne Cadwalloder’ and she nodded thoughtfully.
“So, you’re Dave.”
Daphne nodded and nervously adjusted her skirt to ensure full modesty. She wasn’t sure how Jane might react. Jane simply wagged her head and sucked her pen thoughtfully.
“Well I don’t see the identity thing as a problem but I’m thinking you’re worried about being ‘outed’”
“Exactly.” Daphne replied. “I’m out to my friends in Birmingham and to my friends here today, but I’m not out — out in Machynlleth.”
Jane nodded and smiled.
“But you will be when this gets to court.”
Daphne nodded resignedly, “Yes.”
“Well you can be assured it’s not an issue with the police. You have assured me of your proper identity so your statement is acceptable. I should have realised when you called the dogs. They obviously know you and I recognise them as Dave’s dogs.”
Daphne breathed a sigh of relief as she added, “My dogs.”
“Pity they weren’t here when that man arrived.”
“Yes. I can’t understand that. Elspeth must have had them locked up in the shed. They can get a bit lively around other children but they’re perfectly okay with Sion.”
Jane got Daphne to sign the statement as Daphne and compared the signature with the one on the back of the License counterfoil. She nodded with satisfaction, put the notebook away then turned to look again at Daphne. After a brief study she smiled.
“You’re good. I still can’t see Dave in there.”
“Oh, he’s there,” Daphne assured her, “my other self is certainly Dave Cadwalloder.”
“Can I ask you some personal questions?”
“Why not?” Daphne smiled, ”They all do.”
“Yes; and I can see why. Is that a wig?”
“No. It’s all mine.”
“Well I have to say, you’ve got beautiful hair. It also explains Dave’s pony tail.”
Daphne’s smile turned to a grin.
“Yeah, but it takes a lot of caring for.”
“It’s what girls do.” Jane chuckled.
“Tell me about it. Difference is I like it. It reinforces my sense of femininity.”
“Well go for it girl. I’m impressed. I think we’re all finished here.”
Daphne went to unlock the police-car door when she suddenly remembered.
“Oh damn, I knew there was something else. In the dash of my Landrover; I left my comb; the one I stabbed Arfon’s hand with.
You’ll want that as evidence won’t you?”
Jane’s eyes lit up.
“Heck yes, of course! Thanks for remembering.”
They carefully collected the long-handled comb and put it into an evidence bag. Daphne signed an added note declaring the ‘pink, long-handled, lady’s comb with blood on the handle to be her comb and Arfon’s blood. As she bagged it up Jane smiled supportively.
“You did well to do that. It gives us a perfect DNA match.”
They parted satisfactorily and Daphne drove home with a promise to pick the girls up later that evening.
As Daphne picked her way up the mountain road it had been snowing again. The couple of centimetres proved no problem but it proved to be a blessing. As she arrived at her gate she noticed fresh car tracks in the otherwise virgin snow
Daphne quickly realised ‘Somebody had visited Plas Graig Las and they had not left.’
It was only then that Daphne realised that Arfon might have bullied his son Sion into revealing where his mother had been staying. A cold shiver rippled down her spine. Arfon was probably at the house!
The Ram 27
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In this chapter Daphne goes 'Head to head' with Arfon but the outcome is undecided. Sion is rescued by Daphne but at what costs to Daphne's nerves?
The Welsh Mountain Ram 27.
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies Sergeant at Machynlleth
The Ram 27.
Daphne sat in the car and parked in the gateway debating what to do. She decided to check the lie of the land and she was grateful for the white fur jacket and jeans. Even her girly boots with the one and a half inch heels were a better match for the snow than the usual three or four inch heels that Daphne wore when out in public. For once she was grateful that her fashion sense had been suppressed by her real need to prepare for the snow that morning and the boots now proved a blessing. She would have preferred Dave’s heavy work boots but they were in the SWB Landrover. She parked the LWB Landrover County further up the road in a discreet lay-by where her mobile worked. Then she called the police on her mobile and explained the situation.
Finally she explained to Briony and Blodwen and told Blodwen to come with the police up to Cledwyn’s farm to collect her radio. Dave’s radio, as always, was in its charger on the dash. Whichever vehicle he took, he always transferred the radio. Daphne now had good cause to be thankful for Dave’s obsessive habit; a habit born of once being caught out in a storm on the hills without the radio and his sick father being frantic with worry.
Having alerted everybody, Daphne left the dogs in the Landrover with a message to Blodwen by mobile that the keys were behind the gatepost at the entrance to the farm.
With these arrangements in place, Daphne picked her way along the hedgerows towards the house and selected an approach she knew made her invisible to the house. As a child, Dave had often sneaked back to the house to avoid his grandmother’s ire for being late for dinner. Dave knew every inch, wrinkle and fold of the fields around the house. He also knew how to circumvent the fields containing the sheep so as not to disturb them and give him away.
Naturally, Daphne also knew all these tricks and in short order she found herself at the old side entrance that was but rarely used. In the farmyard she had recognised Arfon’s car so her surmise had been right. She reached in her handbag, tested the keys and offered up a silent prayer of thanks. She was in! Now all she had to do was wait for backup.
Her first act was to take off her heeled boots so that moving around would be easier. Silence and her intimate knowledge of the whole house enabled her to creep around until she picked up the feint sound of voices exactly where she expected to find them ... in the kitchen. Having forced his way through the utility room door directly from the yard where he had parked his car, Arfon had simply settled down and made himself a cup of coffee. Daphne could now hear Arfon shouting at his son Sion.
“You must know where he keeps his guns; every farmer has a shotgun!”
Daphne listened to the boy whimpering in terror as he lied and tried to explain that he didn’t know and he hadn’t seen any guns at all. Even at aged eight, Sion knew not to let Arfon anywhere near any guns.
Daphne chewed her lip thoughtfully. Her pair of shotguns and her rifle were securely locked away in a substantial steel cabinet that was discreetly tucked away in the cellar under the stairs in an old store-room. It would take at least a sledge-hammer and chisel to break the locks, and even then, the ammunition was located elsewhere. Daphne had every cause to fear her own guns because she had been present at a shoot as a young teen-ager when one of the beaters had been accidentally shot. The teen-aged Dave had been the beater right next to him and the first to respond to his scream. The young lad, another farmer’s son, had died before anybody could do anything and the incident had left a lasting impression on the young Dave.
Ever since that day, Dave had had little to do with guns even though the shotguns were deemed a necessity around the farm to shoot vermin. As to the rifle, it had been his dad’s pride and joy and Dave had reluctantly surrendered the weapon to the police when his father had died. As a young man of nineteen, he was too young to hold a fire-arms certificate until he was twenty one. Tearfully, he had surrendered the rifle to a sympathetic police superintendant who had promised Dave they would keep the rifle until he was twenty one and then if he proved himself a responsible adult, the superintendant would make every endeavour to have it returned to him.
The deal had worked. By getting the farm on its feet again and making a success of it, Dave had proved his maturity to his neighbours. Every farmer in the county knew the story and the police were more than willing to return the rifle a few days after his twenty-first birthday. Even so, Dave had locked the guns away and virtually forsaken them from that day. The cabinet was warm and dry so the guns remained cleaned and oiled just like all the other pieces of Farm machinery but Daphne had little cause to bring them out except for the yearly police check and to clean and oil them. Daphne felt a wave of relief as she considered the situation.
‘Even if Arfon did discover the guns, he would be hard put to break open the cabinet and even then; the ammo was stored elsewhere. More importantly, the firing pin and bolt for the rifle were also stored elsewhere. It would take time for Arfon to ever get the rifle operational. By that time, hopefully, the police would be on the scene.'
What Daphne had not allowed for was the curiosity of eight-year-old boys especially when joined later by sixteen-year-old boys. Their fascination with guns had already manifested itself in Wendy’s market shop. James had gone rooting one afternoon and found the shotgun ammunition tucked away in the back bottom drawer of Daphne’s shoe locker.
The rifle ammunition, because it was more dangerous, more valuable and had to be accounted for at each police inspection, was better hidden. Nevertheless, James had shown Sion the cartridges and both boys had naturally gone looking for the gun. They had found the gun locker and James recognised it, for its robust construction had rather betrayed its identity. . After that Sion knew where the guns were kept even if he couldn’t get at them.
Back in the kitchen Arfon was cursing and bellowing at his son and eventually the terrified boy broke down. He blubbered out the location of the gun locker and Arfon let out a curse of victory. After storming down to the cellar, he found the locker and cursed again. He would have to either find the keys or break the locker. A visit to the barn produced some substantial tools but while he was away, Daphne rushed down the cellar and debated what to do.
‘Should she take all the weapons and arm herself or should take one weapon and leave the others without ammunition? That way Arfon would have no idea of what was available.’
To throw Arfon off his stroke, Daphne took the pump-action modern gun whilst leaving the disabled rifle and old fashioned double barrelled shotgun behind still without ammunition. As she was closing the locker he heard Arfon’s heavy steps on the stairs. She slipped into the shadows of the adjacent store room for she had not thought to bring the ammunition with her. Silently she cursed her oversight and was forced to wait until Arfon was busy destroying the door of the locker before she could sneak back upstairs to her bedroom.
She quickly loaded her gun then removed the surplus cartridges to another location. Her intuition had told her that if the two boys knew where the guns were they might also have located the ammunition.
Her intuition proved right as she heard the bellowing Arfon dragging his son along the landing even as she was hiding the ammunition in the attic.
Arfon burst into Daphne’s bedroom and plunged into the wardrobe where Sion had seen the cartridges. He cursed furiously when he only found an empty cartridge box and he turned on his son.
“You lying little sod! Where have you put them? I’ll f-----g thrash you, you eff–g little bastard.”
With that Daphne heard the loud smack followed by Sion’s scream of pain or fear. She fingered the trigger of her pump action and silently hoped she would not have to use it. Then she heard more smacks and realised Arfon must have lost it completely as he was beating the boy, possibly to death. Daphne was forced to intervene.
Despite her conviction, Daphne was still afraid. She knew she was no match for a powerful brute like Arfon and, despite being armed; she had no idea what she might find on the other side of the door.
The smacks continued so Daphne decided to use stealth. She gently eased the door latch back then flung the door open and took one step inside as she brought her gun to chest height and screamed “Stop!” at the brute’s back.
Arfon swirled around with the limp boy hanging in his powerful grip. The man’s look of rage turned first to shock at seeing a woman with a shotgun and then his expression turned to fear as he recognised the business end of the pump gun.
“Put him down you bastard.” Daphne whispered.
Instead, Arfon wrapped his arms around the boy and held him as a shield.
“Shoot me you bitch and you shoot him!” Arfon grinned evilly.
“He’s your own son you sick bastard, put him down or I’ll blow your legs from under you.”
Arfon grinned and lowered the boy to his waist whilst challenging Daphne to have a go.
“You can’t risk it you bitch! That thing would kill us both.”
Daphne was in a quandary. Arfon was partially right. The gun had a spread of shot that might well include the boy. She was in a jam, the risks were too great. All she could do was bluff it out. Her hesitation misled Arfon into thinking he had gained the psychological advantage. Being a natural bully, Arfon presumed he now had her in his power and he advanced towards the woman confidently. It was a mistake, his approach reduced the spread diameter of the shot and with every foot he approached, the ammunition would more resemble a solid bullet if the gun was discharged.
Daphne might have been uncertain but she wasn’t afraid. Her knowledge of the shot-gun’s nature and power gave her the whip hand and she wasn’t about to surrender her material advantage. She knew however that her message had to be loud, clear and forceful so she raised the barrel to just above Arfon’s head and fired.
The resulting bang was deafening in the confined space of the bedroom and the reverberating shock left them all deafened. Daphne however recovered first because she had pulled the trigger and she knew from previous experience, what sort of noise to expect.
Furthermore she was behind the gun where the sound was least and she had previous experience with the gun as a fourteen to sixteen-year-old before the accident.
Arfon dropped the boy and screeched defiance as his head rang painfully.
"You bitch! You've shot me!"
"No I haven't you arsehole! That was the wadding. Stop fucking crying!"
Although she screamed this information at the top of her lungs, Arfon was so deafened by the explosions that he could hardly make her out. All he deduced was that the woman meant business. With Arfon now separated from Sion, Daphne had a better, clearer shot but she still had no intentions of killing the man. Her main intention was to rescue Sion. She lowered the barrel fractionally and waved it vigorously to signal her demand as she screeched as loud as she could.
“Step back from the boy!”
Arfon stood dumb and deaf, unable to make out Daphne’s screech. She lowered the barrel a bit more and stared into his eyes.
Arfon saw the cold, calculating face of death for Daphne was calculating the critical spread as she ran some mental approximations.
‘He’s fifteen feet away and this is my twelve bore. I’m reckoning a four to five inch spread with maybe a couple of strays going an inch or two wider so-oo aim about a foot above his head to avoid hitting him with shot or any more wadding’.
So doing, she brought the gun to her shoulder, aimed at the wall and fired over Arfon’s head.
The second explosion did it for Arfon. He squealed in terror, flung up his hands and for several seconds it seemed as though they had come to a deadlock as neither of them moved. Eventually, as her ears stopped ringing, Daphne stepped around the open door and moved to the side of the bedroom whilst motioning with the barrel. She now had a clear shot at Arfon for Sion was lying terrified on the floor.
“I said step away from the boy!” She screeched again. “Or next time I’ll shoot to maim you.”
Her seemingly hysterical shout finally broke Arfon’s nerve. He cursed wildly then made a tentative step away from Sion and towards the now unblocked doorway. Daphne sagged with relief and nodded encouragement as she screamed.
“Go on. Fuck off! The police will be here shortly, they’ll deal with you; fuck off!”
Arfon could hardly believe his luck as he stepped closer to the door while the bitch sidled around to protect Sion by putting him behind her.
‘Is she inviting me to leave?’ He asked himself.
He took a couple tentative steps that did not invite a reaction from Daphne so he concluded incredulously that the bitch was letting him go. He immediately disappeared through the door as Daphne bent down to rouse the terrified boy.
“You’re safe now Sion! Listen to me darling, you’re safe.”
Eventually the boy stirred and reached out to touch her. Then he burst into tears as he realised his salvation. Daphne reached out and took his hand whilst still keeping a firm grip on her gun. She felt him trembling and gently held his badly bruised wrists.
“Listen to me Sion; you’re safe. He’s gone; I don’t think he’ll be back.”
The boy looked up into the face of his guardian angel then burst into more convulsive sobs as he reached out to cling to her. She reached out her left hand and hugged him to her whilst still holding the shotgun John Wayne Style in case Arfon reappeared. They sat on the floor with a clear view of the bedroom door, both still tearful; Sion with terror from the kidnapping and the pain in his ears still ringing from the deafening blasts of the shot gun, Daphne tearful with relief and nervous exhaustion. Thus they remained in a tense, desperate embrace, woman and boy for fully quarter of an hour, until they heard the faint wail of sirens. She bent down and kissed Sion’s hair as she croaked encouragement through a voice hoarse with emotion and nervous exhaustion.
“That’s the police, they’ll be here shortly.”
Sion wiped his eyes and peered up at Daphne; his hearing now returning.
“Has he gone?”
“I don’t know son, I’m too afraid to look.”
“You should have shot him while you could.”
Daphne sighed as she readjusted the gun for it was getting heavy. Then she explained patiently.
“That wouldn’t do Sion, it wouldn’t do at all. Look at those two holes in the plaster on the wall. Look at the spread of the little pellets.” She rested the butt of the gun on her thigh as she explained. “I know what this gun can do Sion, it makes a horrible mess. When I was only sixteen I saw another boy get shot. It was an accident at a pheasant shoot but the boy died screaming and I was the first to reach him. I never want to see that again nor do I want to hear such screams.
It’s not like a cowboy film or a police film. This gun doesn’t fire bullets, but you already know that. This gun blows a hole three or four inches across. No Sion, I never want to see that again.”
“If he could have found the bullets, he would have shot you.” Sion persisted.
“Well, he didn’t and he didn’t, let’s just be thankful.”
”There’s the siren again, it’s getting closer.”
Sion made to stand up but Daphne dragged him down to her side again.
“Don’t move from here lad. You and I are not moving from here until a policeman comes through that door.”
“But they’re here, listen, that’s the car door slamming.”
“Just sit tight son. We still don’t know where he is.”
Sion realised that Daphne was trembling.
“Are you afraid?” He gasped disbelievingly; unable to credit that the heroine who had saved him from the hands of his father could actually be afraid.
Daphne squeezed him again and adjusted her cramped legs.
“Yes Sion. I’m afraid, there’s nothing wrong with being afraid.”
Sion bravely tried to put his hands around Daphne’s waist and hug her to him. She let him then she heard the door at the end of the landing being opened. She rearranged herself so that Sion was behind her and she was on one knee with the gun covering the door. The almost inaudible sound of soft footsteps warned of somebody’s cautious approach. Daphne called out.
“Whoever it is, I’ve got the door covered.”
A wave of relief washed over her as Sergeant Jack Davies’s voice answered.
“Is that you Daphne?”
“Yes Jack. I’ve got the boy Sion with me. Are you alone?”
“Yes. Jane’s keeping an eye on the yard. So he was here then?”
“Yes. Was his blue car still in the yard?” Daphne checked.
“No.”
“Well it looks as though he’s gone then. You can come in.”
Daphne stood up and discharged the cartridges from the gun as Sion stood beside her. The loud ‘clacking’ of the gun’s unloading mechanism alerted Sergeant Davies as he appeared in the doorway.
“My God girl, what’s happened?”
Daphne slumped against the wall as the gun dropped from her failing grip. Sion squealed but the sergeant stepped forward and caught her as she slid unconscious down the wall. She’d fainted.
The Ram 28
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This chapter deals with the outcome of the incident. The issue is not resolved yet because Arfon is still at large and now even more dangerous having been humiliated. Future scenarios and hopes are also described. Daphne is now 'out' to the police in Machynlleth. It seems she will have to come out fully in short order.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 28.
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies Sergeant in Machynlleth.
The Ram 28.
Sion watched fearfully as the Sergeant picked Daphne up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
“Is she alright?”
“She will be bach. The question is are you alright?”
“My shoulder hurts where my dad crushed it.”
“Let me see.”
He studied the bruising and noticed several other bruises that caused him to look further. Finally he noticed the lump just behind Sion’s ear.
“When did you get that lad?”
“Dunno; must have been when my dad hit me.”
“Hmmm,” Jack Davies frowned and radioed Jane.
“Is it clear out there?”
“Yes Sarge’, no sign of his car.”
“You’d best come in rather than freeze your tits off. I noticed the makings in the kitchen. I’m not being sexist but could you make a pot of tea? I think we could all do with one.”
“What’s the situation in the house?” Jane asked as she stepped cautiously into the kitchen.
“I’m in what looks like the lady’s bedroom. There’s been a shooting incident but there’s no blood. I don’t think anybody’s been hurt. The lady’s fainted though.”
Jane had to check herself ‘Jack still didn’t know about Dave and Daphne.’
“I’ve put the kettle on, I’d better come up and check her over; you know, woman’s touch.”
“Aye. She’s out cold.”
A minute later Jane appeared in the doorway to find Jack knelt down reassuring the boy while Daphne lay peacefully unconscious on the bed.
“I’ve called an ambulance, on the land-line in the kitchen now I’d better phone the mother our radios seem out of contact with base out here. Do we have Briony’s number?””
“Daphne’s got it on her phone but mobiles don’t work up here either,” Sion offered.
“Where does she keep her phone?”
“In her fancy black handbag, the one with all the jewels on.”
“D’you know where it might be love?” Jane pressed.
Sion shrugged his shoulders, “I dunno’ miss she didn’t have it when she came in with the gun.”
Sergeant Jack exchanged a knowing look with his WPC.
“Which way did she come in?”
“She didn’t come in through the kitchen,” Sion observed, “she would have to have passed my dad and me.”
“Is there another entrance to the house?” Jane checked.
“There’s the main door in the front hall, the glass doors onto the lawn by the big stone steps and there’s the side door. That’s on the other side of the house.”
“Show me lad, Jane can you stay with Daphne?”
Jane nodded and Sion led Sergeant Jack Davies through the house. They found the door ajar but no handbag. Jack stood thoughtfully trying to work out Daphne’s most likely route through the house then it struck him.
‘Daphne had the gun when she challenged Arfon didn't she?’
"You said she already had the gun when she challenged your dad."
"Yes," Sion replied, "it was the pump action and it was loaded.
“Where does she keep the gun Sion?”
“With the others in a big steel locker down in the cellar.”
“Lead on son, you’re being very helpful. Good Lad.”
Sion grew another inch as he basked in the praise. In the cellar they found the broken gun cabinet. He explained to Sergeant Davies.
“He used that sledge hammer and those chisels to break the lock. It took him about five minutes. He took the double barrelled gun but couldn’t find any ammunition. He couldn’t use the rifle cos’ that’s got no ammo and Daphne must have hidden the firing pin.”
Sergeant Davies frowned as he looked around for the handbag when his radio went off.
“Sergeant Davies.” Her answered.
“Sarge, It’s Jane, she’s come around and she says her handbag is in the vegetable store room further along the passage — the green door.”
Jack found it immediately and within minutes they had contacted Briony who collapsed with relief as Elspeth and Blodwen comforted her. After letting Sion speak to his mother, Sergeant Davies then contacted the station and informed his colleagues of the situation.
“- and send a car to bring the mother up here.”
With this done he started pouring mugs of tea and smiled when a very pale looking Daphne appeared on Jane’s arm.
“Here love, this’ll set you up.”
Daphne smiled and slumped into the other chair. Once comfortable, she motioned her head towards the larder and Sion immediately understood the signal, - biscuits. He produced the Cookie tin and handed it around.
“Chocolate I think,” Daphne smiled wanly, “it’ll give me a sugar boost.”
Jane nodded and smiled as the sergeant sighed with overall relief.
“Well, so far, so good; nobody hurt.”
“I’m not sure sergeant, when I fired the gun, some wadding might have hit him in the face, there was a mark on his forehead and a tiny drop of blood.”
“A pellet maybe?”
“Doubt it; even a single pellet at that range would have made quite a hole with lots of blood.”
“How far was he from you?”
“’Bout ten to fifteen feet, I fired over his head, well above it.”
“Yes the holes in the plaster indicate that. Anyway, it’s a crime scene now; we’ll have to wait for forensics. I’m just wondering what Mr Cadwalloder will say when he returns home; where is he by the way?”
Daphne exchanged a nervous glance with Jane who nodded and smiled to reassure her.
“You’ll have to tell him Daphne’”
Daphne hesitated, swallowed then sighed with no little trepidation. She could never be sure of men’s reactions.
“Uhm, Sergeant Davies, David Cadwalloder won’t be at all surprised by this mess. You see, I’m David.”
There was a deafening silence as Sergeant Davies digested the information and struggled momentarily to make sense. Eventually he cursed mildly.
“Bloody hell! Is that really you Dave? Under all that — make-up and stuff.”
Daphne nodded and sipped more tea as Jack continued shaking his head.
“Dare I ask? Are you a woman then?” Jack asked, wondering if his question might offend.
Daphne wagged her head and sighed.
“To tell the truth, I’m not sure what I am. I go around as Dave in Machynlleth and Newtown, but further afield I go around as Daphne.”
“Is that because you’re afraid?”
Daphne nodded dejectedly.
“In Machynlleth, yes. If I wanted to come out as Daphne down there, everybody would have to know, the bank, the auctioneers, the other farmers, everybody, my doctor even; Doctor Llewellyn.”
“Your doctor!” Jack gasped. “Doesn’t she know?”
Daphne wagged her head.
“No. I’ve been meaning to tell her for several years, but, well, what with everything, I never found the courage.”
“But she’d have to keep it confidential.”
Dave gave Jack an ‘old look’.
“This Machynlleth were talking about Sarge.”
“Oh call me Jack, Dav- sorry, Daphne. You’ve known me for thirty years.”
“Thank you Sarge or better still, thank you Jack. Thanks for calling me Daphne when I’m like this.
“They told my colleagues about this on a course in Aberystwyth but I missed it, My wife Megan broke her arm and I didn’t go. The main feedback I got was that we should treat you as we find you, man or woman.”
“Well that’s good Jack, thanks again. I suppose we’d better get on with my statement.”
“I’ll take Sion’s first but I’ll have to wait until his mother gets here, by that time it’ll be swarming with police. There has to
be a responsible adult but you were a party to the incident so I can’t use you.”
“There’s plenty of warm quiet rooms to interview him.”
“Yes I noticed the house is lovely and warm and it’s a huge house. You did the right thing persuading your dad about the water turbines. Cledwyn shares it as well doesn’t he?”
Daphne nodded as she stared reflectively into the Aga sight glass, then the sound of an ambulance siren distracted her.
“Is that for me?”
“You and Sion, he’ll need to be checked.” Jane observed.
Then the additional wail of the police siren sounded and Sergeant Davies nodded with satisfaction.
“With any luck, we’ll be able to take your statements before they take you to Newtown A&E.”
“Do I really have to go?” Daphne pleaded.
“They’ll want you to, you fainted when I arrived, you were unconscious for a while.” Jack confirmed. “Then Sion will require a hearing test and whatever else.”
“Health and safety I suppose,” Daphne mused ironically.
“What else?” Jack grinned sympathetically.
As the vehicles sloughed into the yard, doors slammed and Sion sprang up from the settee at the sound of his mother’s voice. They fell into each-other's arms and only then did the boy break down in tears. The paramedics did their stuff and seemed at first to Daphne, to be disappointed that there hadn’t been something more serious, then they grinned and the lady driver explained.
“When we got the call, there was talk of a shooting. Truthfully, we’re glad there wasn’t.”
“Do I have to go in?”
“Well we advise yes after any unconscious incident.”
“I just fainted, that’s all; stress probably.”
“Stress can do funny things.”
Briony overheard Daphne’s reluctance and she scolded him mildly.
“You’re going in to be checked and that’s that!”
“The sergeant here would prefer statements first, while they’re still fresh in our minds.” Daphne protested.
The paramedics agreed to that and the statements were given. Daphne gave hers to Jane in the kitchen and Jack took Sion’s while his mother and a paramedic accompanied them in the drawing room.
Sion brightened up considerably at the prospect of an ambulance ride with Daphne and Briony while Blodwen recovered Daphne’s Landrover and the dogs. When she returned to the house Jack Davies approached her about Daphne.
“Have you known about Dave and Daphne?”
“Yes Sarge, for nearly ten years. He came out to me when I was at uni.”
“So you’ve known all this time. My gosh, you were good to keep it under your hat. Is that why you never married each other; everybody thought you two were a match made in heaven.”
“No that’s not the reason Sarge. Daphne and I are the best of friends; we love each other as brother and sister; or more correctly, sister and sister. If I wasn’t gay I would have married her years ago, her transgenderism is no problem to me.”
Jack’s eyes widened briefly, just enough to betray his surprise. Blodwen grinned.
“Surprise, surprise Sarge! As they say in Yorkshire Sarge; ‘There’s now’t so strange as folks is’n there?”
Jack smiled as Jane grinned and Blodwen suppressed her amusement.
“So what has Briony got to do with all this? I know about the rescue but little else.”
“Well it was ‘Knight in Shining armour stuff,’ Dave put her up for several days because they were snowed in. The relationship developed while they were thrown together.”
Jack nodded thoughtfully.
“I see, I see.”
Blodwen could see Jack’s cogs grinding so she elaborated a bit.
“They are not sleeping together, if that’s what you’re thinking. Dave’s an honourable guy, a very rare bird.”
“Oh we all know that Blod,” the sergeant replied. “Everybody in Machynlleth market knows how he kept this huge estate going when he was still but a lad and then he helped your dad out. He did you a massive favour.”
“Nobody knows that better than me Sarge, that’s why we’re such firm friends.”
“So how is it going forward then? Is Briony going to marry him? I’m presuming she’s divorcing her husband.”
“Oh yes. You’ve seen what the man’s like. I think divorce is a given.”
“Well that’s probably a good thing. I see the young lad worships Daphne, does he know about the transgender stuff?”
“Oh yes. That’s the first thing he learned. Sion’s got no problems with it. He likes Dave as much as he likes Daphne. Dave can’t but mention tractor without the boy rushing to get dressed to go out with him. Next time he’s in town at the market just check them out. The boy loves Dave and absolutely adores the dogs. Oh by the way, Wendy at ‘Y Siop Marchned.’ knows about Daphne so don’t be surprised to see Daphne shopping there in future. It’ll be half-day closing like today. She’ll be shopping as Daphne, you know, frocks, tights and the usual lady clothes. The shop will be closed but Wendy welcomes Daphne’s custom, you well know Daphne’s not short of a bob or two.”
“Yes, this estate and the forestry.”
Blodwen debated telling Jack about Daphne’s successful club in Birmingham but decided against it.
'The less people knew about Daphne’s success and subsequent prosperity, the better. Plas Graig Las was such a remote house, somebody might consider robbing it or kidnapping the children or ransoming Daphne’s friends or relations. Blodwen had huge respect and affection for Daphne because the tee-girl had overcome huge issues to make something of her life. Now she had a genuine shot at marriage and children by a loving and sympathetic wife, Blodwen was determined to move heaven and earth to forward Daphne’s circumstances. All this she kept back from Sergeant Jack, it was Daphne’s business and nobody else’s.'
“Yes, and she’s prepared to buy our farm off my father if I choose to sell it. Though to tell the truth, I fancy keeping it as my country retreat while Daphne farms the land.”
Sergeant Davies’s eyes brightened.
“Oh so you might be moving back with us then?”
“Probably Sarge. I can run my practice at arm’s length these days; maybe two or three days a week in Birmingham and long four or five-day weekends up here.”
“Oh, that’s good, so it won’t be a holiday home,” Jane observed.
Blodwen smiled but she wasn’t revealing all her plans. Her own personal, ideal scenario was to live on the farm most of the time with her lesbian partner, have children by Dave and let Dave and Briony care for his children during the brief midweek days when she was in Birmingham. She would work with her own partner and Briony to care for the children during weekends when Daphne liked to go to Birmingham. In truth, the two houses would be ringing to the sound of children’s laughter then, in ten years the hills would be ringing to the shouts of those same children on horseback. Blodwen savoured these images in her head for the probability of such a scenario was not just likely but almost certain. Whatever else might have been deemed to have turned out wrong for her and Daphne, their mutual childhoods had been idyllic ones. Blodwen’s clock was ticking.
The Ram 29.
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The aftermath of the 'fire-arms incident' and a brief brush with social services.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 29
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies Sergeant North Wales Police.
The Ram 29.
At Newtown hospital Daphne and Sion were thoroughly checked over in Casualty and then transferred to observation wards. When Sion’s bruises and lumps were examined again the following day, a social worker was called and Briony got the distinct impression she was being accused of something. At one stage, the paediatrician and the social worker went into a huddle and asked Briony to leave them with the boy. Briony sensed the censure in their expressions and tensed defensively as she sat outside in the corridor.
Whatever they were doing took a long time and Briony found herself getting more and more nervous. She started pacing up and down the corridor then noticed Daphne in another room a few doors down. She knocked softly on the door and Daphne smiled.
“Come in darling. How’s Sion?”
“They’re checking him over again. I don’t like it, they seem to distrust me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. They checked out all his bruises and their attitude to me seemed to change.”
Daphne sat up and swung her legs out of the bed.
“But why would they distrust you? They know the situation surely.”
“That’s just it. I told them what I knew down in Casualty. I get the feeling they don’t believe me.”
“Have they asked you anything more since yesterday?”
“No. That’s just it. I feel ... you know - accused.”
“Hmmm.” Daphne mused. “They haven’t spoken to me either. Perhaps if we went and told them.”
“Are you allowed out of bed?”
“They’ve just told me I’m in for a couple of days observations. They haven’t said anything about bed-rest or getting up. My clothes are still in that locker. I’ll get dressed right now.”
“You’d best check with the ward sister first.”
Daphne looked askance then slipped a hospital gown over her smock.
“This isn’t a prison; I’m just in for observation. I’ll pop down and see her, her office is at the end of the corridor.”
So saying she slipped on her only shoes and click-clacked purposefully down the corridor. The sister looked up and twisted her pen in her fingers.
“You should be in bed Miss.”
“I didn’t want to drag you away from the paperwork, I’m not a cripple.”
“Very well, what d’you want?”
“It’s not me, it’s my friend Briony. She feels she’s being isolated from Sion.”
The sister fell silent and checked the file.
“Are you connected to the case in any way?”
Daphne almost fell into the chair opposite the desk.
“Case! What ... case? Who said there was a case?”
The sister fell silent then took the file off the desk and placed it in a draw, as she locked it she looked up again.
“I think you’d better talk to the consultant paediatrician.”
“I think you’d better talk to me young lady.”
“There’s no need to take that attitude.”
“There is. You’ve just mentioned the word ‘case’. How come there’s a ‘case’ it’s an open and shut event. The boy was beaten by his father and rescued by me. That by the way is my connection, as you call it, to this case. Have you spoken to the police yet?”
“They’ll be speaking to them later today. If the father is beating the boy, then he will have to be put on the ‘at risk’ register.”
Daphne stared hard at the sister then looked up as the paediatrician entered. He spoke down to Daphne.
“What seems to be the problem Miss?”
“I have no problem but my friend does. She feels you’re isolating her from her son Sion.”
“Do you know the boy?”
Daphne almost exploded with frustrated anger but she breathed deeply and managed to contain her temper.
“Have you spoken to the boy?”
“Uuuhm, I’m asking the questions here.”
“No doctor, sorry to disillusion you, but I’m asking the questions.”
“What d’you mean?”
“I saying, I’m asking the questions. Have you asked the boy about the circumstances surrounding his bruising?”
“Yes. He says his father did them.”
“That’s perfectly correct,” Daphne confirmed, “but are you aware of the full circumstances.”
“We spoke to the mother but there’s always the possibility that she’s covering up for her husband.”
“The possibility?” Daphne pressed with finality adding a seeming incredulity to her question.
“Yes, in abuse cases there’s-“
“Hold it right there Doctor, or rather Mr Padwar.” Daphne studied the doctor’s name tag.
“Firstly we are dealing here with a case of criminal kidnap and deadly force. Have you spoken to the police?”
“Not yet.”
“Then I suggest you do. That boy and I have been severely traumatised by a violent and dangerous criminal, namely that boy’s estranged father. Before you do any further damage to the boy by denying him access to his beloved and compassionate mother, I suggest you contact Sergeant Jack Davies who is station sergeant at Machynlleth.”
“How can you say you were traumatised, there’s not a mark on you.” Mr Padwar challenged.
“Guns were present doctor, and they were discharged! The boy was less than fifteen feet from the barrel of my gun in a confined bedroom! The shot passed just five feet over his head. I suggest you speak to a psychiatrist before you drag some overworked social worker in; oh, and perhaps re-unite him with Briony; she’s the only safe, stable element in the boy’s life at the moment. By the way, has his hearing been checked? I know my ears are still aching and I was the one who fired the gun!”
“Yes. His hearing was checked this morning. There’s some slight temporary impairment but it’s not permanent.”
“Good, then something’s being done correctly. Now I suggest you speak to the police officer who was first on the scene. Here’s his number, use my phone.”
The bemused consultant took the phone and listened to the dialling tone where Daphne had pressed quick-dial. The ensuing conversation told the consultant the whole story and he was red-faced when he returned the phone.
“I owe you an apology Miss Cadwalloder.”
Daphne smiled to express her contentment. She was no longer angry; it was nothing more than overworked staff not getting the whole story. She took the phone gently and glanced over the consultant’s shoulder to indicate Briony standing nervously in the corridor.
“Thank you doctor, but it’s not me that deserves any apology it’s Sion’s mother Briony.”
Mr Padwar span around, approached Briony, apologised and explained how the mistakes had occurred. Briony let out a sob of relief and Daphne watched as she ran as fast as her heels would allow to Sion’s room.
Daphne turned and smiled to the sister.
“Job done I think sister. You can unlock the file now, I’m back to bed were I won’t be a bother anymore.”
The sister grinned and explained somewhat guiltily that ‘yes, they were overworked’ and said she’d send Daphne a cup of tea.
“That’s very kind of you sister, thank you.”
Ten minutes later as Daphne was tapping away on her phone, the sister walked in with tea and biscuits.
“So, now I don’t have to address that file anymore, would you like to tell me what happened over a cup of tea?”
They spent half an hour chatting about the incident while the sister received a deeper insight into transgenderism. She left the room a much more thoughtful woman. Later Briony returned from Sion’s room and hugged Daphne tight.
“You keep working miracles for me, how can I ever repay you.”
Daphne grinned and whispered in her hear.
“By saying yes when we are able to marry.”
Briony gave a squeak of delight.
“That’s already a given and you know it.”
“Yes, but I still like to be reassured now and again. Can you do some shopping for me?”
“Of course. I’m just going into town to buy Sion some underwear.”
Daphne smiled as the sister appeared unexpectedly in the doorway on her normal afternoon round. Briony had not yet noticed the sister standing behind her as Daphne explained.
“Yes darling that’s exactly what I need as well, underwear, size 10 to 12 knicks and a 36 C bra. This bra is all sweaty and as for my panties ... well, since yesterday morning, ugh.”
Briony grinned and retorted.
“Okay darling, as a treat I’ll get you some matching lingerie, frilly lace or plain cotton?”
Daphne was struggling to suppress her amusement as the sister’s eyes widened with disbelief. She replied to Briony in an exagerrated tone.
“Oh the frilliest ones you can find da-arling, you know what us tee-gu-urls are like.”
Briony snorted and turned to leave only to bump into the sister.
“Shaddup!” She grinned, before the sister could speak. Then she strolled off casually to the shops.
The sister stood by Daphne’s bedside grinning.
“You’ve got a good friend there. Not many women would shop for a tranny, though I must say, even in bed without makeup, you pass.”
“Why thank you sister. That’s the nicest thing you could say to one of us. Thank you.”
“She seems very fond of you.”
“She just agreed to marry me when her divorce comes through.”
“Yes. Mr Padwar has told me what the sergeant in Machynlleth told him. You’re a lucky couple. Are you remaining male then ... down there I mean?”
“For now, yes, but sometimes as we get older, some of us realise we’re transgendered.”
“Apparently. The more you talk about it, the more I learn. It’s complicated isn’t it?”
“It’s fluid, well, that’s what I feel. Hard to say. Truth is I don’t know everything there is to know. Complicated seems as good a way to describe it as any other.”
The sister nodded and stood to leave.
“D’you want a sleeping pill? Some do if they’ve been lying on the bed all day.”
“No. I slept well last night, can’t see any reason for not sleeping tonight.
“They’ll probably discharge you the morning after tomorrow. Sleep well.”
“Bye sister, are you on duty tomorrow?”
She nodded and waved a smile as she left. Daphne rooted out the ‘zapper’ and turned on the television. The news contained a reference to the Birmingham gay shootings saying that the police had arrested some people and charged them. Daphne smiled with satisfaction, things were progressing on that front as well. As the news finished, the night sister appeared to make acquaintance with her new patient.
“So,” she smiled as she picked up the clinical record at the end of the bed, “you’re Daphne Cadwalloder our heroine.”
Daphne ‘swaned’ her neck and pulled a wry grin.
“Well hardly a heroine sister. I was armed, he wasn’t.”
“Yes. But he’s got form for GBH; you had to protect the boy.”
“He was beating the boy ... badly; the boy was screaming.”
“They haven’t caught him then, my husband’s in the police.”
“He’ll have to surface some time.”
The sister nodded, changed the drinking water and asked if Daphne wanted anything else.
“No thanks, I’ve got the telly ... oh! Can I use my phone? I need to sort out some business in Birmingham.”
The sister hesitated then nodded.
“Yes. This block is okay. It’s the IC units where the equipment might be affected. Yes, you can use your phone.”
“Oh thanks, and what about my lap-top? Business again I’m afraid.”
“My, you are a busy girl aren’t you?”
“Needs must I’m afraid, people to speak to, meetings to reschedule.”
“Very well, but I don’t want to see you awake after midnight”
“If I’m not sleepy I’ll come and bore you to death at the nursing station.”
“Like hell you will, midnight is when I’m busiest.”
“So am I, normally ... well, at weekends that is. Though this is Thursday but I’ll have to let people know I won’t be there for Saturday.”
“What, midnight, on a Thursday? Who the hell works at midnight on a Thursday?”
“Me for one. As I said, people to talk to and so on.”
“Well, whatever floats your boat. The nurse will be bringing tea around at eight.”
“And biscuits I hope, chocolate hob-nobs.”
“The budget doesn’t run to that.”
“Mine does, can you ask Briony, the mother of Sion, the eight-year-old boy just down the corridor, to come and see me. She can go and buy some for us.”
The sister grinned and left; Briony appeared a few minutes later.
“You should have mentioned them earlier when I bought your knickers.”
“Sorryyyy. Sort of slipped my mind. Please, pretty please. How’s Sion.”
“He’s fine, some of the bruising hurts but otherwise he’s fine. He’s bored though.”
“I’ll have to get him a lap-top, then we can play games online.”
“Not you as well. That’s all he ever did at home.”
“Well there’s not much else he can do cooped up in here. I’ll bet he’s going stir crazy as well.”
“Is there anything else you want?”
Daphne grinned and snuggled down in the bed as she motioned her head suggestively.
“Maybe a remedial cuddle, you know, therapeutic kisses and stuff.”
“Shhh.” Briony scolded her. “They’ll think were lesbians or something.”
Daphne sighed pensively as Briony made her excuses and left to visit the twenty-four hour Tesco’s supermarket.
“I’ll be back before eight. Keep back a cup of tea for me.”
“Speak to the night sister. Oh! And get me a couple of magazines as well please.” Daphne called but Briony was already clicking her heels purposefully down the corridor.
Daphne settled down to sort out the ruined weekend and explain to the staff of The Melancholy Pussy why she wasn’t coming. When Briony returned, Daphne was asleep.
Briony smiled and wagged her head sympathetically.
“Huh. Bloody typical.”
The sister appeared beside her with the tray of tea.
“If she’s sleeping, she needs it. We might as well have these.”
“I left a pack by the nursing station but yes, okay.”
They settled in the visitor chairs and briefly shared a peaceful moment over the tea and biscuits before an alarm went off summoning the sister to the nursing station. Briony returned to Sion’s bed and lay down on the put-you-up, soon she was sleeping as well.
o0o
The general clamour of the early morning routine woke Briony early so she grabbed the opportunity to take an early shower. When she returned she found Sion peering out from under the blankets. When he saw her, he sat up, yawned and grinned at his mother.
“I’m bored.”
“Don’t be silly. You’ve only just woken up, you haven’t even had breakfast yet, how can you be bored. Go and have a shower, I’m going to speak to Daphne. When you’ve finished, I’ll be in Daphne’s room. She’s in room six.”
Sion slid out of bed with only his underpants. As he stood briefly in front of her, Daphne studied the bruises and swore silently.
“Are they sore.”
“Yes. When I told that Mr Padwar, he took a lot of photos.”
“Yes, the casualty consultant also took a lot. They will be used when your father goes to court.”
“He hurt me mummy. Why does he hate me?”
Briony choked up momentarily then croaked.
“I just don’t know darling. He’s a very angry man.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know that either. One day he might say why but he’s never explained why to me.”
“Dave is so different, he doesn’t shout or anything. Are you going to marry him?”
Briony hugged her son tight to her and kissed his bruised forehead. Sion winced and she realised the bruising went deeper than just surface skin. She slackened her hug and then Sion just moulded gratefully into her body. Briony considered the question and swallowed happily as she realised the answer was ‘yes’ with a burning certainty. She confirmed it to her son.
“Yes darling, I’m going to marry him and we’re going to live at Plas Graig Las, but it also means Daphne will be living with us. Are you happy about Daphne?”
“Yes. I love Daphne and she’s very brave.”
“You know if the other children find out at school, they might make fun of you; bully you even.”
“I’ll get Sergeant Davies to stop them.”
Briony nodded with a happy satisfaction. Telling Jack Davies would be the best possible solution. Jack had already proved his impartiality and support.
“That’s exactly the right thing to do, don’t even bother telling the teachers first. Go straight around the police station first, then tell me, then tell the teachers. Now go and get showered and meet me in Daphne’s room. I’ll warn the sister that you’re coming.”
Sion did as bid and Briony stopped at the Nursing station before going in to Daphne who’s face lit up as she appeared.
“Ah. Good morning darling, slept well I hope?” Daphne checked.
Briony nodded and suggested.
“You’d better shower quickly, Sion’s coming around in a mo.”
As Daphne slipped out of bed, Briony savoured Daphne’s slender form with its slight curves and well formed breasts.
‘Yes. Marrying Daphne would mean savouring that attractive body.’ She felt a warm dampness in her knickers and squeezed her thighs together as she concluded, ‘The sooner they got wed, the better.’
While Daphne was showering, Briony read one of the several magazines she had bought Daphne the previous evening. She found an article about a ‘sex change’ and she noted the warnings about hormones. ‘She would have to speak to Daphne about them if she hoped to have Dave’s child.’
The Ram 30
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Daphne and Sion are out of hospital. The threat from Arfon still looms but this chapter mainly describes Daphne and Briony moving forward emotionally.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 30
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies Sergeant North Wales Police.
The Ram 30.
For the remainder of their stay in the hospital Daphne occupied her time entertaining Sion while Briony returned to Machynlleth to collect her daughter Ellairy and rejoin Blodwen up at Plas Graig Las. Blodwen had assumed the role of Farmer and she was supervising her father’s Labourer Ifan.
When she arrived with Ellairy, Briony found herself stopping in the rear gateway to the hall and savouring the panorama. The view was stupendous though the wind persuaded her to remain in the car. Her heavy outdoor clothes were still down in the kitchen so after filling her senses with the view, she picked her way down to the hall. The snow was still lying stubbornly wherever the sun failed to shine all day but for the first time, Briony began to see the estate without its winter overcoat. She met the eight-thousand coming up the lane and Blodwen hung out to greet her.
“Hi Bri. Ifan and I are just going to feed the sheep. See you in an hour or two.”
Briony acknowledged the pair and continued down to the hall. In the more natural light without the harsh reflections off the previously pristine snow, Briony began to see the ‘blue’ in the Blue Pennant limestone from which the hall was built. That morning she realised where Plas Las got its name.
She parked close to the kitchen utility door and quickly carried Ellairy into the house. The mountain wind was still raw and she was grateful that the house was constantly heated by the hydro-electric turbines. In addition, Blodwen had kept the Aga charged so the kitchen was doubly warm. After sorting out Ellairy and giving her what was to be the last breast feed, she started preparing for the ‘boy’s’ homecoming. This kept her busy until lunch time when Blodwen and Ifan returned from the hill.
“What time are they due?” Blodwen asked.
“Tomorrow, I’m driving to Newtown to collect them.”
“Well we’re finished up here. There’s nothing now until feeding the stock again tomorrow. I’ve left out food to be given to the horses and pigs at five. The dogs are in the utility room. They’re a bit muddy at the mo. Dave usually gives them a wash if they’re very muddy. They use the iron tub in the old dairy and there’s hot water from the red tap. Just fill it; the dogs know what to do. They like the warm bath.”
Briony thanked Blodwen and she returned to her own farm with Ifan. Later Briony washed the dogs and after shaking themselves, they settled beside the Aga to dry. The smell of wet dog caused Briony to wrinkle her nose but the idea of having three guards to protect her while she was alone in the house was reassuring. Briony was still afraid that Arfon might just reappear. She went to sleep that night with Ellairy sharing her bed while the three dogs slept at the foot of her bed. When she woke the following morning the dogs had sneaked up onto the bed in the night. She hadn’t the heart to scold them and Ellairy seemed doubly happy and she gurgled happily when the dogs wagged their tails.
“Get off you naughty mutts!” Briony ordered half-heartedly.
While she prepared breakfast she heard Blodwen arrive. For a moment, she thought it might be Arfon but the dog’s contented tail-wagging reassured her. Blodwen and Ifan shared breakfast then returned to feeding the stock. By eleven, Briony was on her way to Newtown hospital and after a brief shopping expedition in Newtown, they returned home at seven to the demented excitement of the dogs. With Daphne in the house, Briony was a much happier person. The assault by Arfon had left her traumatised and ‘clingy’ so she begged Daphne to let her sleep with her in Daphne’s bed.
“What about the children?” Daphne asked.
“You can lock the door from the corridor to the adjoining bedroom and leave our connecting door unlocked. If they want to come into our bed, they can use the connecting door. Anybody thinking to get at them will have to pass this bed and us.”
Daphne thought Briony was overreacting but if that arrangement made her feel safer then she was prepared to do it. They prepared the cot for Ellairy and made up Sion’s bed causing Sion to ask.
“Who’s sleeping here?”
“You and Ellairy darling.” Daphne explained. “You mum wants you safe close by.
“Are you keeping your gun close by?”
“The guns have been temporarily confiscated by the police as evidence. I won’t get them back until after the trial.”
Sion’s smile faded slightly. The thought of being un-armed worried him slightly, ‘after all, Arfon might return with a gun.' Daphne sensed Sion’s fear, so she gave him a cuddle.
“We’ll be okay darling; the dogs will serve as our guards.”
This reassured Sion and he continued working with Daphne to set up the cot. As they finished Briony called from the end of the landing.
“Supper’s ready, come on.”
The pair trudged down and the chatter around the table brightened considerably as they ate their food. After supper Daphne and Briony shared the pleasure of putting the children down for bed. Daphne read them a story and Briony secretly hugged herself as she listened to Daphne’s rendering of Black Beauty.
‘Arfon had never read to the children,’ she reminded herself, ‘now here was a man who actually enjoyed it.’
Briony had to pinch herself to remind herself she was not dreaming. This was truly a man she could spend the rest of her life with. A gentle, considerate man who understood a woman because he had a womanly nature, nay a womanly mind. A man who loved kids.
As she closed the book, Sion turned over and almost fell asleep to order, Ellairy had gone down much earlier. Daphne kissed her fingers and touched both children gently as she replaced the book amongst the matching set on the shelf. Then she turned to Briony and smiled. The smile turned to concern as she noticed Briony’s tears.
“What’s wrong darling?” Daphne whispered.
Briony swallowed the lump in her throat and croaked.
“Nothing darling, absolutely nothing. That was beautiful. Where did you learn to read like that? Each horse had a totally different voice and character. You made the story come alive.”
Daphne blushed slightly as she explained.
“When I was small, my dad used to read from those books. It’s one of my most lasting memories of my dad. He used to give the characters different voices and stuff. Those voices were the voices my dad gave to each and every horse.”
“You must miss him.”
Daphne nodded and fell into a thoughtful silence as they retreated from the children’s bedroom.
In the main bedroom Daphne was about to step into the corridor and return to the drawing room but Briony nodded towards the bed.
“Stay with me a while. Let’s just lie on the bed and chat.”
“About what love?”
“Anything ... everything, us.” Briony sighed.
Daphne needed no persuading and she stepped out of her heels to slide provocatively onto the bed. Briony wagged her head with a pleasurable amusement as she recognised the seductive manner of Daphne’s feminine gesture and she slid alongside her companion as she realised Daphne would probably become her lover that very night.
‘But did Daphne realise it?’ Briony asked herself.
First they lay on the bed and Daphne chatted about Sion’s trauma.
“He still seems nervous around men. Mr Padwar mentioned it to me while I was teaching Sion chess yesterday afternoon. I’m realising now what a brute Arfon must have been.”
“Him and his brothers," Briony explained, "there’s three of them and they virtually terrorised Llanidloes. They’re a whole family of thugs.”
Daphne wagged her head.
“I can’t understand how you got involved with him.”
“Youth, stupidity and rose tinted glasses.” Briony replied then explained. “I was young, the family home was small and crowded and I wanted to get away, have some space for myself. We three sisters shared the same bedroom and my brothers likewise. My dad warned me, he knew Arfon’s reputation but the more Dad warned me, the more determined I became. Then after I married him I was trapped.
Arfon’s very jealous and possessive; he hated me going anywhere on my own. That car was a left-over from my late teens when I had a job in the supermarket. It was my only escape from Arfon after I married him.
Daphne nodded then observed.
“We’re not out of the woods yet. He could still turn up here mob-handed with his brothers. Sergeant Jack Davies contacted his colleagues in Llanidloes. Arfon and his brothers had no respect for the law. They were arrested and cautioned and fined lots of times for breaches of the peace.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Briony added, “he’s been done for GBH and he’s out on licence. I’m married to a jailbird.”
“Well that’s soon to be sorted. The lawyers are on to it now. We’ll know in a few days when the divorce proceeding start. Have you got any documentary proof of his violence?”
“Haven’t I just! I’ve got doctor’s letters, a police report, A&E files, the whole damned caboot!”
“Well the divorce should be a formality and now he’s got a whole lot more to answer for; kidnap, child abuse, assault, breaking and entering; using an unlicensed firearm ... you name it. He’s going down.”
“Yes but for how long. He carries a grudge forever. Even if he’s sent down for years, when he comes out, he’ll come looking. I don’t feel safe Daphne! I don’t feel safe anywhere!”
She pressed into Daphne’s arms and started to cry. Daphne wrapped her arm around her and squeezed her tight. They lay like that for long minutes until Briony’s tears started to soak Daphne’s blouse and bra. As Daphne shifted uncomfortably Briony realised and sat up.
“I’m sorry, you’d better change, I burdening you with my problems aren’t I.”
“Your problems are now my problems and a trouble shared is a trouble halved. We’ll find a way through.”
“D’you think so?”
“Well I can only think so ... hope so. There’s no guarantee he won’t come back. Stay here, I’ll go and make some cocoa.”
Daphne removed the wet blouse and bra then slipped on her shortie dressing gown over her bare breasts and went downstairs. Briony took the opportunity to change for bed and donned a provocative nightie from her own room. When Daphne returned with the tray of chocolate and biscuits she found Briony snuggled under the duvet.
“Oh, so you’ve decided you’re going to share my bed have you? Well, you’ll have to sit up to drink this, come on.”
Briony grinned, sat up and motioned to Daphne, “You’d better get undressed; I’ll feel so much safer sleeping with you.”
As Briony sipped her coffee she watched Daphne slip seductively out of her skinny jeans and savoured the sight of Daphne’s curvy tush. As she took off off her tights she bent forward and her breasts tumbled provocatively out of the loosely tied dressing gown. Briony couldn’t help but remark.
“You’re a girl really aren’t you?”
“Thought you knew that,” Daphne replied.
There was a brief silence as Briony plucked up the courage to broach the subject.
“Will you be able to father children?”
Daphne paused as she was stepping out of her panties. Her maleness flopped out and Briony could not help but keep looking. Daphne caught her ‘peeping’ and smiled.
“It still gets hard and it ejaculates. D’you want to try it?”
Briony hesitated.
“Are you sure. I thought you still wanted to wait.”
“Well, I was apprehensive about being declared a respondent in the divorce proceedings but I phoned the lawyers yesterday and they contacted the police. Your divorce will be a formality on the grounds of abuse and unreasonable behaviour. He may not even be able to contest the case for if the police find him; he’ll immediately be back in prison because he’s still out on licence. So now I’m happy to sleep with you if you’re happy.”
“You know I am, stop teasing; and leave your panties on the bedside table.”
Daphne chuckled. She was poised just stepping into clean panties so she removed her leg from them and replaced them as instructed before slipping under the duvet with Briony. The cocoa was forgotten so urgent was their need. Briony was left with little doubts about the mechanical aspects of Daphne’s father-making abilities. She could only wonder about Daphne’s sperm fertility.
After a delightful consummation they lay naked and exhausted in each other’s arms with their breasts squashing together. Then their dalliance was interrupted by noises from the children’s room.
“Quick! Put your panties on!” Briony whispered urgently.
They both just managed to cover their modesties as Sion appeared. He stared sleepily and asked.
“Are you two married now?”
Briony stifled a giggle.
“Well, yes Sion, we are in all but name.”
Sion looked directly at their bare breasts and asked bluntly.
“Are you a girl Daphne? Can two girls be married?”
Daphne smiled as she reached for her shortie dressing gown and slipped it on over her bare shoulders and breasts. As she tidied her hair she replied to Sion.
“No darling, well not yet and I might never be. I haven’t decided yet. For now I’m still technically a boy.”
“Where you just making a baby?”
“Well that’s a very private thing and it’s a bit rude of you to ask but I’ll forgive you and tell you ‘yes’ we were trying to make a baby, a little brother or sister for you and Ellairy.”
“I want a brother.”
“Oh I’m sorry Mr boss-man; we have no say in what sex your sibling might be. That’s down to chance.”
Sion turned to Briony and sucked his lip.
“Can I come into bed?”
Daphne and Briony now felt ‘respectable’ and Briony patted her side of the bed.
“Yes. You can lie on my side.”
She pulled back the duvet and Sion snuggled in. Daphne’s heart wanted to melt. She lay on the other side of the bed secretly hoping that one day they would have their own children and those children could lie with impunity between Briony and her but for now, this was as good as it would ever be allowed to get. As she nervously turned to face away from Briony, Briony sensed Daphne’s fear. She reached back and tugged Daphne’s arm.
“Cuddle up darling. You’re still allowed to cuddle me as well you know.”
“Are you sure, what if ... you know; the courts, this, sharing?”
Daphne tried to use hyperbolae to circumvent Sion’s realising there were issues, issues that could have serious consequences if the lawyers were allowed to make hay. Daphne could already hear the accusations the suggestions.
'The gutter press would have a field day. Always, always, they cast the worst possible spin, the nastiest aspersions.'
She’d seen it too many times with her friends and invariably, the tee-person lost or at least up until recently. Maybe, maybe with today’s slowly improving climate, her transgenderism, no her intergenderism might not be used to beat her so heavily, to wound and destroy. After pausing to debate the turmoil swirling through her mind Daphne nervously rolled back to spoon into Briony’s luscious rear and then she lay there silent and still, half expecting some remark from Sion but instead all she heard was two sets of slow, contented, regular breathing. Briony and Sion had already fallen asleep!
The Ram 31
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This chapter deals with developments while Arfon is keeping a low profile. His forced abscence results in Briony winning an uncontested divorce and the question of custody of the children never arises. Arfon dare not surface because there are warrents out for his arrest.
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce Blodwen’s Partner.
The Ram 31.
“Daph’! Wake up! There’s somebody down stairs!”
Briony was sat bolt upright while Sion stirred reluctantly and Daphne propped herself up on one elbow.
“It’s morning girl, of course there’s somebody down stairs!”
“Who!” Briony demanded.
“Blodwen.” That’s who.
“How can you tell?”
“Can you hear any other noise?” Daphne sighed.
“No.”
“Exactly, now go back to sleep.”
“I can’t sleep now, it’s morning.”
“Well get up then but I want to catch up on some shut-eye.”
“It might be someone else!”
“If it was somebody else Bri, the dogs would be going ballistic.”
“Oh.” For the first moment since hearing noises Briony relaxed. “So why is Blodwen here?”
“I don’t know, go down and ask her.”
Briony scrambled awkwardly over Sion who clung like a limpet to his corner of the duvet. As she stood by the bed there was a knock on the door.
“Whoisit?”
“Who j’uh think?”
Briony immediately recognised the voice confirming it to be Blodwen.
“Oh it IS you. Come in.”
The door creaked open and Blodwen wheeled in a dumb waiter with breakfast already prepared. Briony’s eyes widened with surprise.
“Oooh! That's nice. But what’choo doing up here so early?”
“Early? It’s ten o’clock girl! I was going to ask why you are still in bed so late but the answer’s obvious now. Have you been ... you know?”
Briony put her finger to her lips and frowned as she pulled back the duvet to reveal Sion curled up into a ball.
“Oh! Okay then. I’ll catch you later. It’s just that Sergeant Davies phoned; he’s coming up with the Superintendant from Division in Aberystwyth. More questions apparently. I’ll be down stairs, Ifan is loading the mangles. You and I have got to have a long chat girl.”
“What about?” Briony demanded nervously.
“Later, I’ll explain.” Blodwen finished as she turned to leave.
When she’d left Briony pumped Daphne for answers.
“What was all that about?”
“I think her seeing you with me has started her clock ticking. She spoke to me about it when she came to visit me in hospital. Basically, she wants her babies to be contemporary with ours.
“Babies! How many is she planning on having?”
“One of her own and one by Joyce, her partner.”
“Both by you?”
“Apparently, then their children will be half siblings to ours. One big happy family is how Blod sees it. How do you feel about it?”
Briony sat down again on the bed then instructed Sion to get up and finish his breakfast in the other bedroom. Sion tried to object but he received short thrift and Briony almost ejected him out of the bed. He grumbled out of the bedroom and Briony immediately tackled Daphne.
“Have you planned all this with Blod?”
“No. It’s Blodwen’s idyll. She’s moving back to the farm anyway, her practice enables her to do it. Three days midweek in Birmingham and four day weekends at Fferm Graig Las Isaf. Monday nights down here. Travel up to Brum Tuesday mornings and back Thursday whenever, depending on work. Joyce to work something similar but go up Monday morning and back Wednesday afternoons. It could easily work Bri; our kids can shuffle back and forth between Fferm Isaf and Plas Las. Blodwen and I did it for years when we were at school together. Cledwyn and my dad never knew where we were staying every night. Her place or mine. When her mum died, she lived here with my Nan for over a year. Honestly it works and it worked because kids are safe up here."
Briony sat thoughtfully tracing a line on the pillow.
“Will you have sex with them or is it turkey baster stuff?”
“What do you want? If you don’t want me actually ... you know, just say so.”
Briony looked at Daphne a little guiltily.
“Well; it’s just that Blodwen’s pretty and Joyce is a looker as well.”
“Do I detect the little green-eyed monster?”
Briony felt rotten admitting it.
“A bit, yes.”
Well okay then, turkey baster it is. Blod and Joyce have talked about this and they’re okay with turkeys. But what happens if the artificial method doesn’t work, assuming I’m still fertile of course.”
“As a last resort you mean?”
“As a last resort.”
“I suppose you’ll have to go ‘au-natural’ or they’ll have to go to a clinic.”
“We can cross that bridge if we ever come to it.”
“Is that a way forward then? Turkey basters at dawn.”
Briony slapped his arm and grinned self-consciously.
“Oh stoppit you. Come on, get dressed!”
Ten minutes later Blodwen and Briony looked out of the kitchen window and saw Dave driving the tractor with Sion and Ifan throwing the mangles from the trailer. Blodwen smiled to herself for now she had Briony all to herself in the Kitchen. Now was the time to dig the dirt.
“So Bri, go on. What’s he like? Is it big like some sort of macho man or is it teeny weenie?”
Briony smirked. She had the whip hand because only she knew.
“I can’t say, I haven’t had that much experience.”
“Oh stop fooling around Bri! Is he able to get it up ... correction; can she get it up?”
“Oh I can answer that,” Briony smirked and paused.
Blodwen punched her arm affectionately.
“Stop winding me up. Can she?”
Briony nodded and continued smirking.
“Oh she can certainly get it up, well for now anyway but if she continues with the hormones, well; who can tell.”
Blodwen swore partly from frustration, partly with amusement.
“Right, if you’re trying for a baby then I think it’s only fair that Joyce and I do. You said last week that you had no objections.”
Briony burst out laughing.
“I know. You know that and Joyce knows that but Daphne doesn’t. She thinks I want you to do it Turkey Baster style with her.”
“Like hell. I may be gay but I still like a cuddle when stuff like this goes off. Daphne’s my best friend so I want her child and I want her inside me making it. Besides, it’s the most practical and efficient method. What’s more, sleeping with Daphne is virtually like sleeping with a girl. You said you had no objections.”
“I don’t,” Briony confirmed, “but she thinks I do. I’m not going to have her sleeping with all and sundry AND enjoying it. There needs to be a bit of guilt there, she can’t just have her cake and eat it. She’s still a man, well; she doing the man’s part, the pleasurable part. She doesn’t have to carry any children or worse bear them. If she’s going to have a pop at three girls then she can bloody well carry the guilt if she can’t carry the child.”
Blodwen let out a snort of conspiratorial amusement.
“Why you cruel bitch Briony Cadwalloder. She may be a man but she still aches to be able to carry a child. Never happen of course.”
Briony fell silent for a moment’s reflection ‘It was true, poor Daphne ached to have a child but it would never ever be.’ Her light-hearted mood evaporated but she stuck to her convictions.
‘It was men who had all the fun even if they had little or no fulfilment.'
She turned to put the kettle on and realised there were no pressure feelings in her boobs. ‘Her milk was drying up. She would be able to conceive soon.” As she tested her boobs she explained to Blodwen.
“I’m not lactating any more. If you and Joyce want your babies contemporary with mine, you’d better start making plans. I’ll ask Dave to get his sperm tested.”
Blodwen blushed then smiled gratefully.
“Thanks Briony, you’re a brick.” When Joyce and I come down from Birmingham, shall we stay here until the deeds are done? I can’t see my dad approving of Daphne coming calling on us like some Romeo and Juliette scenario.”
Briony nodded and grinned.
“Yeah I think so though she won’t know what’s hit her! She’ll feel like some bloody Eastern potentate in his harem!”
“I don’t think so Bri’, Daphne’s a girl at heart, that’s the impression I get.”
“Yeah, I suppose that’s the truth and all. And a sweet girl as well.”
With the deal struck behind Daphne’s back the girls moved things forward over the next few months. Arfon seemed to have dropped below the radar and the spectre of his reappearence receded into the background as their efforts to conceive took precedence.
In the February, Terry arrived to work with the sheep and Daphne organised a flat for him at the other end of the house. Terry lived with them for meals and evenings but had his own set of rooms to retreat to when his boyfriend came over at weekends. The sperm tests demonstrated that Daphne was below the normal fertility count but her sperm motility was vigorous and acceptable. The specialist assured her and Briony that Daph’ was by no means sterile and Briony should conceive by normal natural intercourse. He also advised Daphne to forgo her hormones until Briony had fallen pregnant. This naturally translated to Blodwen and Joyce but it was fully a month before the three real girls confessed to Daphne about the deal they had struck about ‘Natural intercourse’. Daphne called them provocative bitches when she shed the burden of guilt that Briony had loaded onto her. An inadvertent consequence was that Daphne began to function better when the stress of guilt was removed and unbeknownst to any of them, as Daphne’s stress reduced, her sperm count increased. In May Joyce found herself pregnant to Daphne and Blodwen fell pregnant in August. Briony had to wait until October before she too became pregnant but the bonus was that Briony conceived twins.
Blodwen’s dream had come to fruition. When Christmas arrived that following year, the girls organised a surprise party for their parents to break the news. Briony’s uncontested ‘divorce absolute’ was also declared in December and Briony was finally free to solemnise her union with Daphne.
They arranged for the Christmas party to be held at Plas Graig Las. Daphne felt a little ‘out of place’ being the only girl there without a parent. Fortunately, the preparation and organisation took up so much effort; she didn’t have time to dwell upon her ‘genetic loneliness’. Being the only person there with no ‘blood relations’, brought home to Daphne the gravity and importance to her of the precious packages gestating in Briony’s womb. Briony caught her a couple of days before Christmas lying pensively on the bed and weeping with happiness as she contemplated Briony’s wonderful gift to her.
“What’s wrong with you then sweetheart?” Briony asked.
Daphne turned and looked up without bothering to wipe her eyes.
“I’m just thinking love. For the first time since I was nineteen, I’ll be able to look at another human being and say, you are my blood, you are my relation.”
“Does it mean that much to you?” Briony wondered.
Daphne nodded and sat up as she explained.
“Have you ever been all alone Bri? I mean totally alone, wholly dependent on your own wits, your own skills, your own resources and absolutely nothing else?”
Briony considered the question and wagged her head as she reflected silently.
‘Having two sisters and three brothers not to mention countless cousins had ensured Briony had never been alone ... there had always been somebody to turn to — at least until she had married in haste. Even when married to Arfon she had not felt alone; just threatened and frightened.’
Daphne stared at the floor as she continued explaining to Briony.
“Once Dad died, that was it. I was the only child of an only child. I have no first cousins you know, nor any second cousins that I know of. Both my parents were single children and my grand-parents were as well. My Nan explained that to me before she died. I was eleven. There was a rumour that my mother’s mother had an illegitimate older sister but it was never ever confirmed to me and no information was ever forthcoming from my Nan. So you understand; I’ve stood alone for over a decade, me and me alone. I’ve never really thought about it until this party, it’s brought it home to me. I’ll be the only one there without a single blood relative.”
Briony patted her tummy and smiled as she explained softly then placed Daphne’s hand on the bump.
“Well you have now. Two of them, in there, just give them some more time to grow. They’ll be as close to you as blood can get. I suggest you sit back and enjoy the ride lover-boy ...lover-girl ... lover-daddy. Cos’ when they arrive, you’ll know all about relatives.”
Daphne smiled, sniffed and started to dry her tears which then required makeup repairs so she sat to the dressing table and used the repair session as ‘therapy’. Briony watched her and they exchanged make-up ideas until Sion found them.
“They’re all asking for you down stairs. Tara’s finished the tree and she thinks you should formally switch the Christmas tree lights on. You’re the ‘head of the household’ or something.
“Has everybody arrived?” Briony asked.
Sion replied.
“Everybody except Aunty Elspeth and my cousins; they said they would be late.”
Briony turned to Daphne and tugged her off the make-up seat.
“Come on you, it’s rude for the main hostess to ignore her guests.”
Daphne suddenly felt a bizarre flutter of nerves tingle through her chest. She had never confronted so many people in her own house. Briony had to almost drag her downstairs and push her into her own drawing room. Daphne almost flew through the door and stumbled to a halt in the middle of a circle of some twenty people. She stuttered through a brief welcome speech that she had pre-prepared but even so she ‘fluffed’ her lines. Finally she got through it and turned to Tara who was now sixteen.
“I think you had better switch on the lights love. You’ve done most of the work decorating the tree.”
Tara knew this was true. That morning, Terry the shepherd had gone with James to cut a tree from Daphne’s plantation then Tara had ‘supervised’ it’s erection before decorating it. It had taken her the whole afternoon and early evening. Now, as the winter night closed in, Briony took Ellairy in her arms then nodded to Tara, whose finger was itching to go. She pressed the switch and the tree flashed into life. Icicles started to ‘drip’ off the branches and Ellairy squealed with delight.
Christmas at Plas Las had started. Briony reached out to take Daphne’s hand and squeezed it joyously. They exchange tearful glances as they recognised the joy of seeing the house so full after decades of virtual emptiness. Blodwen spotted the interchange and she stepped across the room to join them to pull them together in a collective hug as she whispered.
“Happy Christmas Daph, and may there be many more of them. Plas Las needs this.”
The Ram 32
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Christmas has arrived, the anniversary of briony and Daphne's first meeting. Just a brief chapter describing some items of progress in their lives and a brief cameo of Daphne's family history.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 32.
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce Blodwen’s Partner.
The Ram 32.
They Sat down to lunch that afternoon, more than a dozen people around the large family table with just a few days to go to Christmas. It took the combined efforts of Daphne, Briony, Blodwen, Joyce and Shirley to prepare the meal and they used it as a ‘dry run’ to practice for Christmas day. After working out the best way to divide up their labours the guests sat down to dinner. After the meal Daphne prepared a little surprise for Briony.
Firstly she made a brief speech where she reminded everybody that the day was the anniversary of her first meeting Briony, in a snowdrift, in a car, in a coma. Finally, with tears in her eyes she walked to the other end of the table, went down on one knee and begged Briony to marry her. She produced an engagement ring that stunned everybody as Briony sat speechless. While Briony continued gaping, Daphne explained.
“This is one three rings; all three are Sapphires, all are nearly three hundred years old and all are from India. One of my ancestors served with Clive of India and he brought them back when he’d served his indentures as a supply clerk out there. He was promoted to a quartermaster on one of Clive’s expeditions and knew a good deal when he saw one. Apparently some Indian Rajah or whatever was down on his luck ... just lost an important battle and was buying protection. My ancestor was able to offer him a disguise as an administrator in the Army baggage train and he made it to Calcutta. The prince, or whatever he was, gave him four rings but one’s been lost back in the mists of our family history. Now there are only three. There’s one for each generational female, Grandmother, mother and wife. If there were four generations, then the fourth used to be lent to the oldest daughter until the oldest son got wed. Now there are only three, this one counts as the grandmother’s ring but it goes to Briony because they are handed down in turn whenever the matriarch dies. At the moment there is no matriarch."
Daphne paused and wondered if she sounded as though she was bragging. Then she decided she might as well tell all.
"The missing ‘daughter’ ring passed out of the family after the first generation because she gave it to her daughter instead of returning it to her father when her brother got wed. Ever since that first blunder, the women in the family have made a pact. The rings pass through the custody of the eldest or only son to the wife and daughter then back when the grandmother dies. My mother and grandmother are dead and there are no women in the line so the cycle has to start again because I am the only male survivor.”
Briony’s jaw was still working soundlessly as she nervously twisted the ring and held it up to the light. She had never seen such a brilliant, corn-flower blue. For want of something to say Briony spoke of the ring’s design.
“It’s very unusual, normally Sapphires are set amidst a cluster of diamonds; this one is a solitaire.”
“Mmmm, yes,” Daphne agreed, “I’ve never realised that before. You’re right love; I suppose that’s how they were set in India all those years ago. I think they’re so striking, they don’t need diamonds to enhance their colour.”
So saying, Daphne took Briony’s hand and held it to the light.
“Look, the sapphire and Briony’s eyes are almost a match.”
“Are the others solitaires?” Briony asked.
“Yes.”
Tara squeaked with excitement and begged to see the other rings. Daphne smiled self-consciously and asked everybody to wait. She returned from a secret location with a box that was designed to hold four rings but now only held two; the third ring being where it belonged on Briony’s finger. The fourth ring seemingly lost forever. Naturally Tara was the most curious and the most blunt as she asked.
“What are they worth?”
“Tara!” Shirley scolded her mildly. “It’s bad manners to ask questions like that.”
Tara smiled wanly and shrugged.
"Sorry Auntie Daph."
“It doesn’t matter Shirl’. The truth is I don’t know. They’d be worth a lot more if the fourth one ever turned up but I suppose the stone has been reset in some ghastly modern cluster ring or something. It’s not often you see colour gems as solitaires.”
“It’s not often you see sapphires that big Daph!” Blodwen giggled. “Each one is a bloody rock!! I remember now. I saw that particular ring on your Nan’s finger when I was young.”
“Why are they different shapes?” Sion asked.
“To identify them.” Daphne explained. “Round, oval, marquise and baguette. That way each woman knows which ring is hers as they pass up and down the generations. Sadly, the baguette is the one that’s missing.”
“What’s baguette?” Sion persisted.
“It’s oblong darling.” Daphne indulged him. “See the shape in the box where it was supposed to lie when not needed.”
By now everybody was inspecting the beautiful rings and trying them on; except Terry and James who simply sat unnoticed, finishing off the mince pies. Eventually, the curiosity died down and Daphne returned the two remaining rings to her secret safe and they decided to go for a walk to work off the feast. Daphne led them along her favourite walk along the edge of the plantation where she had planted several edging rows of deciduous trees to disguise the dark monotony of the mono-cultured pine forests. Briony had never come that way before and as the party reached the top of the ridge she looked back thoughtfully at the woods while most of the others scanned the panorama that stretched beyond Plynlimmon. As she pondered the occurrence of the younger oak, ash and sycamore clusters she turned to Daphne.
“How did they get there? They’re quite young trees. Younger than the coniferous plantations”
Daphne looked at the ground self-consciously.
“Well; I have a confession to make. I planted them just before Dad died. I always hated those regimented lines of pine trees. I did it to break up the boring patterns of the plantations. Once dad was too old to object or protest, I sneaked up during what little time I had free and planted the deciduous stuff in varied clusters and random patterns; just like a natural forest. Why? Don’t you like it?”
“They look a bit stark; sort of grey and sterile.”
Daphne smiled uncomprehendingly.
“That’s cos it’s mid-winter. All the trees are brown and bare. Come up here in late spring, these clusters are beautiful green glades. I used to come up here lots when I was worried about the farm. At one time I thought I was going to give up but I came up here and the place was so beautiful I felt I owed it to my family. The trouble was, at the time there was no family to leave it to, the family ended with me and I couldn’t ever see my way through to marriage and children; you know the tranny stuff and the transgender transsexual add-ons. I was about to give it all up and run away to Machynlleth.”
Briony grinned. She wanted to burst out laughing at the thought of ‘Running away to Machynlleth.’
“Not much ambition then; not London, or Australia or America.”
Daphne frowned slightly.
“I was just turned twenty Bri’; I had rarely been outside Wales, my dad had just died. I was frightened, lonely and confused. My only friend Blodwen had just come out to me as a lesbian so I felt I’d lost my best friend and prospective bride. All I could see stretching away ahead of me was the farm, the farm, the farm; that and my transgenderism. It wasn’t easy you know, turning the farm around. Machynlleth looked like heaven on Earth to me at that time. Maybe you’re right, maybe my horizons were pretty narrow back then, but it was all I was.”
Briony apologised softly and reached up to kiss her. The kiss turned into something more tactile and they ended up hugging each other desperately. Briony seeking reassurance and security in Daphne’s arms, Daphne holding her future hopes of family and fulfilment in Briony. The others suddenly realised the passion going on at their backs and all turned to applaud. Daphne and Briony separated red-faced and self-conscious. The single tear in Daphne’s eye betrayed the depth of her emotion.
“I’m just so happy!” She choked.
The Ram 33
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This chapter describes the preparations for Christmas and the progress of Briony's pregnancy.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 33
Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce Blodwen’s Partner.
The Ram 33.
As the friends rambled slowly along the ridge path, Daphne held Briony’s hand as Daphne described features of the estate as the group came upon them. Each location seemed to have some little anecdote attached, an accident, or a lucky find or some historical event going back over nearly seven hundred years of family history. There was even one story related to Owain Glyndwr’s rebellion and Daphne brought the group to the cleft in a cliff where Owain was reputed to have spent many nights while hiding from Henry the fourth the English King.
“Have your family really lived around her for seven hundred years?” Briony asked. “Owain was born around the 1350’s and died 1416. They think.”
“Oh, then you know your history girl. Well done.”
Briony gave Daphne’s hand a squeeze as she objected to her patronisation.
“I’m just as Welsh as you are darling. Yes I do know my history. So if your family has lived hereabouts since 1450, where’s the old house, the original castle?”
“Under the present one, I’ll show you some of the old foundations if you want.”
With the prospect of some real archaeology the friends decided to return to the house. The evening chill also persuaded them and just as it was getting too dark to see they finally made it to the farm-yard, where they found an unrecognised car.
The mood changed immediately as the single word ‘Arfon’ flashed through their minds.
“Anybody recognise the car?” Daphne asked.
A universal answer of wagging heads and murmured ‘no’s’ served only to strengthen Daphne’s fears as she checked the back door.
“The door hasn’t been forced. James, pop around and check the side door please.”
Tara decided to accompany him in case there was something waiting. While the others stood silently fretting Ellairy started to whimper with the cold. Eventually, the two teenagers returned.
“No. The side door’s okay and the main front door, nothing.” James reported.
Nervously, Daphne eased open the back door and slipped silently inside. She found nothing in the kitchen so she slipped down to the cellar and checked the gun cabinet. The guns that the police had restored to her were safe in their reinforced box. Everything seemed as it should be. She returned and invited the freezing friends in. It was only then that Briony spotted the size eleven wellingtons in the utility room.
“Whose are those?”
Daphne looked at them and wondered. They certainly weren’t Terry’s, he took a size nine. Then she realised, Terry might have his boyfriend over. She went to knock on the newly installed dividing door and Terry eventually answered. He looked flushed and not a little upset to have been disturbed. Daphne immediately realised what she’d done and apologised.
“Oh. I see. You’ve got your friend over. I’m sorry to have disturbed you; we were worried because nobody recognised the car.”
“I left a note on the drawing room table.”
“Oh damn. Sorry Terry darling, I haven’t looked in there yet. I’ll go, sorry.”
“Well don’t you want to meet him? You’d better come in?”
Daphne entered somewhat apologetically to find John tucking his shirt into his jeans Terry introduced them, Daphne apologised, John smiled. It was a warm smile. Daphne found herself admiring the tall man with broad shoulders and a flat belly.
‘Gays tended to look after themselves,’ she concluded, ‘well John certainly did.’
They exchanged a few words then Daphne prepared to slip away before asking.
“Are you eating with us tonight?”
“Yes thank you. It’ll give John a chance to meet everybody.”
“Okay ‘bout sevenish.”
She left to return to the kitchen and explain the new wellingtons.
“He’ll be down shortly; Terry left a note on the drawing room table.”
“Why didn’t he leave it on the kitchen table?” Briony wondered aloud. “We’d have all seen it immediately.”
“Ask him when he comes down. Now let’s get dinner on. Is that kettle boiling yet?”
“Coming up,” Blodwen replied, “tea or coffee?”
“As it comes love, I’ll have tea but there’s instant coffee.”
A general atmosphere of busyness soon filled the kitchen as the girls set about preparing dinner. Tara took Ellairy and played with her in the drawing room while James and Sion disappeared up to James’s bedroom to play computer games. Apparently there was some sort of ongoing battle between them.
While dinner was being prepared, Terry and John appeared. Briony asked why they hadn’t thought to put the note on the kitchen table.
Terry explained that he didn’t realise her fear of Arfon ran so deep. He and John had been enjoying the fire in the drawing room and he’d only written the note as a courtesy; an after-thought. Then he confessed that he’d simple left it where convenient as their mood engulfed them and they had hurried upstairs.
“Sorry Bri’, I just never thought about Arfon.”
“Well no harm done. It just left us nervous that’s all. We still don’t know where he is. He could turn up at any time.”
“Who’s Arfon?” Asked John.
“Briony explained briefly as dinner was coming to a head. John wagged his head and observed.
“I see. Sounds like an ugly customer.”
“He is,” Daphne added as she returned from re-charging the dining room fire.
“Oh you should have asked me.” John offered. “There’s no need to make a mess of your hands love.”
Daphne hesitated and smiled partly from surprise. Nobody had ever treated her so completely as a girl. She felt a warm fuzzy feeling fill her tummy. John was nice.
Around the dinner table he proved to be even better company and the meal went swimmingly. They found out that John was a lecturer in English at Birmingham University and that he regularly frequented the Melancholy Pussy. John was shocked and delighted to learn that Daphne was the owner.
“I always thought Billy was the owner but he told me one day that he was only the manager. Now I get to meet the owner of the best club in Brum’. I’m impressed. Before you overhauled it, it was a real dive. You did really well to clean that place up; it was a blot on the reputation of the village.”
Daphne blushed at the compliment and thanked him. The meal ended and they retired to the drawing room after clearing the table and filling the dish-washer. There, as they savoured the roaring, drawing-room fire, they chatted until late evening. As Daphne got up to re-charge the coal and logs, John remarked humorously as he took the bucket from her hands.
“I’ll do this love. You need servants to run this place when you’ve got guests girl.”
“The fire’s a bit of a chore, back and forth with coal and logs. We don’t light it all the time though cos’ frankly we don’t really need it. We just like the flames and the friendliness of an open fire.” Daphne explained. “The house is centrally heated.”
John returned with the bucket and recharged the flames. As he returned to the sofa, he nodded sleepily for he’d just driven up from a conference in London and then enjoyed a furious bout of love-making with Terry. Now after a full meal the day was beginning to tell on him. Daphne spotted his weariness and suggested he return to bed. John glanced at Terry and they smiled as they enthusiastically got to their feet. Briony grinned.
“To sleep that is, you Randy buggers. We’re all going into Machynlleth tomorrow then later into Newtown. It’s Christmas Eve. You’d better get some rest. Shopping is a serious business with this lot.”
For the first time in many a year the bedroom corridors rang with the sounds of ‘goodnight ... goodnight, before silence settled upon the house.
In the welcoming dark of Daphne’s bedroom, Briony savoured the warmth of Daphne’s soft, slender, feminised body. Happily, she spooned against the contrasting hardness of a welcome invader and thought how different Daphne was in her lovemaking.
‘Daphne’s movements were just so gentle and tactile compared with Arfon’s hard, lustful, selfish demands.'
Briony felt Daphne’s fingers gently reach around to cup her stiffening nipples whilst simultaneously feeling two similarly stiff nipples gently nudging into her shoulder blades. She flexed her scapulars gently and heard Daphne giggle then sigh as her turgid femininity almost scraped against Briony’s back.
“Take me,” Briony croaked, “Take me as a lover would.”
Daphne’s fingers delicately traced their way from Briony’s nipples down her belly and under the ripe curve of her tummy to zero in on that place where women most usually reveal their mood. Briony was wet and receptive and she gently arranged herself to locate Daphne’s precious delight exactly where they both wanted it.
Here dear readers, I draw a veil over the rest of the night.
In the morning as Daphne sat on the edge of the bed, Briony savoured the gentle curves of her partner’s body.
“D’you know you’re getting a waist.”
Daphne looked down and nodded agreement.
“Well it’s either that or I’m getting an arse.”
Briony gently pinched one of Daphne’s peachy cheeks and Daphne squealed with mock offence as she span around and clambered on top of the reposing girl. Briony eagerly anticipated another session and she was not disappointed. As Daphne supported her own torso on her knees and elbow so as not to crush Briony’s tummy, Briony could never get over the novelty of having Daphne’s breasts pressing and wobbling against her own when they conjoined in the traditional manner. This time though as she orgasmed with delight, she felt their babies quickening in her womb. Daphne also felt it and gave a shocked squeak of delight as she realised what the gentle ‘flutterings’ were against her own belly.
“Oh my God! They just kicked, I felt it!” Daphne squealed.
“Mmmm. Isn’t that the truth,” Briony murmured. “That’s the first time.”
“Have you felt them before? I mean, if I just felt them, surely you must have felt them before.”
Briony sighed and stretched languorously.
“No darling. It was probably my orgasms that started them off. Sion and Ellairy started at about sixteen weeks but these are twins, they might be a little different. I’m guessing I’m about twenty weeks gone.”
Daphne counted backwards and realised that Briony might be about two or three weeks out in her dates, ‘either that or the twins had started kicking very late, she concluded. Still, they were kicking now and that was a good sign.’
Happily they rolled carefully on their sides to face each other as they savoured the new development.
“We’ll have to be careful now darling,” Briony cautioned Daph’. “No more missionary fashion darling.”
“No, definitely not!” Daphne concurred. “My weight must have caused them to object.”
“More likely my orgasms got them excited darling. I’ve had two in the last eight hours and they were nice ones. I’m sure the babies feel them as well.”
“Mmmm. That’s just so-oo nice,” Daphne sighed as their warm soft bodies moulded against each other. “I wish I could have a baby.”
Briony’s heart ached for her partner. Feeling her babies ... (Daphne’s babies), kick had really brought home the difference between them and the pain it caused Daphne. She whispered encouragement.
“You could breast feed them if you take the right hormones.”
Daphne got up on one elbow as her eyes widened with hope.
Would you let me, really? Would you let me do that?”
Briony looked up and nodded as she smiled.
“Yes, but it’s not all pleasure and fulfilment. Nipples can get cracked and sore, milk can leak. You feel like a dairy cow with udders. You’ll need boulder holsters for bras if you do start to make milk, you’ll see.”
“I wouldn’t care if I sprouted four tits like a cow; I’d just love to feel somebody so totally dependent on me and my nurturing. The very thought, well; it’s always been my dream I knew I could never carry a baby, but to suckle one, well that’s as good as it can ever get for me.”
Briony smiled and gently pulled Daphne down to her as their lips met in an emotional explosion. They only recovered when their embrace was disturbed by Sion and Tara bringing them breakfast in bed. As Tara smirked knowingly Briony felt her twins quickening again and she squeaked with delight. Sion’s eyes widened with concern.
“What’s wrong mummy?”
“Nothing darling, every thing’s right. Your brother and sister are squabbling inside my womb, d’you want to feel them?”
“She took Sion’s hand and invited him to place it on her tummy. He did so reluctantly until he felt a distinct ‘kick’ that cause him to gasp with surprise and delight.”
“It moved!” He giggled. “I felt it move!”
“You felt THEM move darling. There’s two of them in there, your brother and your sister.”
Sion’s smile widened with delight as he clambered onto the bed and boldly pressed the spot where he had felt the kick. Briony protested gently as she squeezed his inquisitive hand.
“Steady darling, they don’t like being pressed and poked too much. Just rest your hand lightly.”
Sion adjusted his hand as Tara asked nervously.
“Can I feel them?”
Briony nodded and placed Tara’s hand to her side where another limb was kicking. Tara giggled as she compared the distance between her hand and Sion’s.
“Gosh it’s like you’ve got a football team kicking away in there.”
Briony chuckled then took a piece of toast as Tara slid off the bed and started to pour the tea.
As Briony and Daphne savoured the treat, Blodwen appeared at the bedroom door.
“Come on you layabouts, we’re going Christmas shopping today!”
“We’re feeling the babies,” Sion declared. “They’ve started to kick.”
“You mean like this?” Blodwen laughed as she took Sion’s hand and pressed it against her own bump. The resultant protest surprised Sion with its greater force.”
“It’s stronger,” Sion cried.
“Well she’s two months older and much bigger. Come on, let’s get you dressed while Bri and Daph finish their breakfast.”
An hour later, they were driving to Machynlleth.
The Ram 34
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This chapter describes the preparations for the wedding and the delicate issue of briony's parents agreeing to attend a wedding where both participants are wearing bridal gowns.
Sorry about the delays in posting this chapter but real life has really been getting in the way. However it was good stuff and I've been so busy enjoying life that writing HAD to take back shelf for a week or so.
I have really been growing old disgracefully. (Hey it's my form of therapy so don't knock it.)
This was me winning a burlesque competition at swansea Art centre Grand Theatre on Saturday. Firts prize was a bottle of rum ... well hello sailor!!!
Now that's growing old disgracefully.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 34
Briony Davies... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Davies... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce Blodwen’s Partner.
The Ram 34.
When the friends entered Machynlleth, the inevitable ‘Welsh Sunshine’ arrived with a lazy north westerly gale to drive it hard against the windshield of Daphne’s Landrover. As the wipers slapped out their tattoo, every occupant was glad for the warmth and protection inside the car.
“Don’t much fancy shopping in this,” Briony sighed. “We’d have been better off going straight to Newtown.”
A general chorus of agreement greeted her words. Daphne however had an ulterior motive.
“We’re only going to Wendy’s and the bridal shop,” Daphne declared. “We’ll hardly be out of the car but we’ll be in the shop. The cattle market is closed today so nobody will be near it in this weather. We’ll be able to park under the veranda by the side door to her shop. I phoned her before we left Plas Las and she told me she’s got some new stuff in.”
This news brightened everybody’s spirits except James and Sion. Daphne sensed their dejection so she decided to brighten their day.
“You two can go into the toy shop in the new Bear Lane Mall at Newtown when we get there that is ... if we get there and the road isn’t flooded again. You can spend all afternoon in there while we check out the bridal shops in Newtown.”
This news brightened everybody up and they tumbled into Wendy’s grateful for the high veranda that protected them from the rain. Wendy was waiting for them and welcomed them in.
“So what’s the new stock you’ve imported from London then?” Daphne asked.
“It’s on those first three racks by the window.”
She hardly needed to say this for Daphne had already spotted the exciting new stock as she skipped excitedly towards it. Blodwen and Shirley exchanged knowing grins as Rachel followed immediately behind. Briony spotted the interaction and frowned questioningly.
What?” She asked.
Shirley nodded to where Daphne and Shirley were picking through the new stuff.
“Those two,” Blodwen replied, “just look at them. Typical trannies.”
“What does that mean?”
Shirley giggled as she explained.
“Shopping girl! Shopping! Trannies have an even more developed shopping gene than us real girls. Just look at them, you’d think they were in the last shop on earth.”
Briony studied them and grinned as she turned to Blodwen and Shirley.
“Good God! I see what you mean. We’d better get a move on!”
Wendy’s eyes widened as she realised these girls were up for some serious shopping and within minutes, purchases were being rung up. They had the shop virtually to themselves because few people frequented the livestock market on Christmas eve and ordinarily, Wendy would not have opened except that Daphne had for-warned her. Wendy was also mildly surprised to see Rachel and Daphne casually strip to bras and panties as they tried on outfits and ran ensembles together. She found her gaze being drawn to the smooth, flat-fronted curve of Daphne’s panties and eventually she felt forced to ask.
“Daphne, have you had the op?”
Daphne flashed a wan smile.
“No love.”
She posed in front of the mirror and smiled with no little satisfaction as she explained.
“I’ve always been small down there then when I practiced tucking I found I could almost make it invisible.”
“So where d’you put it?”
“My balls go up into my abdomen, that used to be painful but not anymore then I just fold it back and fold it inside the empty scrotum. A strip of surgical tape keeps it tucked well back and up.”
“But that’s unbelievable. I Mean, you’ve even got a camel toe.”
“The surgical tape does that.”
“How do you wee?”
“Like a girl ... you know, sitting down. It’s a bit messy, but then most girls have to wipe. I split the end of the tape so my glans is free. That’s why when it’s folded back it looks like a camel toe.”
“Can I see?”
“No! Certainly not!”
“Aaawww! Spoilsport.”
Daphne said no more as she wriggled provocatively into a stretchy tube micro dress and then posed to check herself out. Wendy found herself studying Daphne from behind.
‘There was no doubt about it; the girl had a stunning figure!’ She told herself.
As Daphne plucked at the shoulder straps to remove some creases, Wendy could not resist stepping up behind her and smoothing out some creases around Daphne’s waist and bum. Her hand lingered fractionally too long and Daphne realised that Wendy was checking her out. She murmured softly.
“Watch it girl. I’m spoken for.”
Wendy suddenly realised her intentions had been misread and she stuttered an apology.
“Oh, no, I wasn’t being salacious, I just couldn’t believe your curves were real, I thought you had padded panties on. It’s really you isn’t it.”
“Every bit,” Daphne confirmed with a grin, “real welsh mutton but not so much lamb these days. Anyway, you’ve just seen my panties!”
“Yeah, but you’d be surprised how realistic prosthetics can be these days.”
Daphne gave her a knowing look which clearly showed disbelief. Then she grinned.
“You were just copping a grope and you know it.”
“No! Honest! I was just checking; you have, you’ve got a lovely butt, I just couldn’t believe it.”
“Well it’s all me, honest. In computer parlance it’s WYSIWYG.”
Wendy tried deflecting the discussion by making a few more adjustments to the hem then she stood back and nodded.
“That style suits you but I think maybe blue or red.”
“I’ll stay with black thank you. It’s for Christmas day. We’re having a bit of a party.”
“Are these girls all house guests?” Wendy asked.
“Yes, and they’re here to buy outfits as well. So what-choo waitin’ for gu-url? I’m done here. I’m taking this one.”
Wendy needed no more persuasion and slipped away to fuss and flatter the others. Daphne picked out a couple more attractive dresses while Wendy was pre-occupied and in the general mayhem of checking out, Wendy didn’t notice them. She rang them up unwittingly presuming the other girls had bought them.
By Noon they’d finished and the next phase was agreed. They’d give the rest of Machynlleth a miss and head direct to Newtown.
Newtown was an altogether bigger town and after dumping the males off to fend for themselves, the girls headed for the bridal shop. Two o’clock on Christmas Eve was not a typical time to shop for wedding dresses and they found the shop deserted. Moira the proprietor was seriously considering closing early until a maelstrom of squealing, giggling, girlyness surged through the door.
“Afternoon ladies, what can I do for you?”
“Bridal gowns,” Briony declared.”
Moira glanced at the wedding band on Briony’s figure and nodded.
“So is it for the young lady?” She asked glancing at Tara.
“Uhm, no it’s for me and my partner here.”
Moira’s eyes widened momentarily as she gathered her wits.
“Oh you’re having a double wedding, how lovely.”
Briony’s response shouted volumes as to how far she had come since knowing Daphne.
“Uhm no! My partner here and I are getting wed. We want two bridal gowns plus a few bride’s-maids dresses.”
Briony smiled at Daphne who returned the smile to Moira as she explained.
“I’m transgendered. I’ll be the husband but I’ll be wearing a gown so you might as well think of me as the other bride.”
The girls had to give Moira full marks for phlegm. She hardly batted an eyelid as she changed tack and invited the two brides to inspect her wares. She asked everybody else to entertain themselves in the main shop while she invited Briony and Daphne into the bridal boutique.
“So ladies, I’ve never provided for a ... how do you describe it ... a gay wedding?”
“No, not quite, I am in fact, legally and physically a man.” Daphne explained. “Indeed, I am the father to the twins Briony is carrying.”
“Oh, so congratulations are in order.” Moira replied as her mind searched desperately for the right approach. “How do you describe your marriage then?”
Briony glanced uncertainly at Daphne who bit her lower lip before replying.
“I suppose it could be described as a ‘Trans Wedding’, I’m transgendered.”
Moira’s eyes deliberately fell to Daphne’s cleavage before following the slender waist that flared slightly enough to emphasize Daphne’s slightly curved hips. Admittedly her hips were slightly boyish but they also had a slightly feminine roundness. 'All in all' Moira concluded, 'Daphne had a very attractive figure'. The only thing missing was the fully rounded 'squidgy'butt and the ripe curves at the thighs. There was no doubt at all that the person standing in front of her was an attractive woman even if she was a man. Having decided in her own head that the two individuals looked like women, walked like women and talked like women, then she would treat them as women. It was the correct decision as Moira was to soon learn. Having made up her mind, Moira found it easy to slip into her professional mode as she prepared to take measurements. She slipped the tape between her fingers and asked.
“So ladies, are these gowns to be bespoke or ‘off the peg’?”
Briony looked askance at Daphne; neither of them had considered the options. Daphne, the expert shopper decided to first consider styles.
“Shall we look at some first? Then we can decide.”
Moira nodded and invited both girls to strip as she explained.
“I have to measure you anyway, all the gowns invariably need alterations.”
She was surprised that both girls showed no reservations about removing their jeans and tops as she brought out her catalogue of styles.
So darlings, what styles do you fancy.
Briony giggled and Moira raised a questioning eye.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing,” Briony continued chuckling, “it’s just that the groom isn’t supposed to see the wedding gown until the wedding.”
Daphne snorted with amusement then added.
“Well, is the bride supposed to see the groom’s wedding gown?”
It was Moira’s turn to chuckle as she momentarily lost her professional reserve.
“Well ladies. We have a conundrum. If you don’t see your partner’s gowns you might clash unless of course, you want identical gowns.”
Briony’s eyes met Daphne’s and she grinned.
“Now there’s an idea, identical gowns to signify identical status.”
“Is that what you really want?” Daphne asked.
“Seems like a plan,” Briony giggled. “What sort of gown were you envisaging?”
Daphne had to stop and remind herself.
If somebody had suggested a few months ago, that she would be getting married to a beautiful woman whilst wearing a bridal gown of her own, she would have written them off as insane. Now, here she was not only talking gowns but considering matching gowns! She hesitated as she gathered her senses and tried to make sense of Briony’s ... for want of a better word, offer.
“Are you serious, you mean matching gowns?”
“Why not? You look really good in your dresses; a classy gown like the one Kate wore at ‘THE’ wedding would suite your slender figure beautifully.”
Daphne sucked her lip thoughtfully.
“What sort of dress would you like?”
“Oh, I think a white, full length, sheath-column dress in satin with a scoop top and possibly a court train. I don't want all that lace over the shoulders though. Maybe a bolero jacket to hide your slightly wider shoulders.”
Daphne’s eyes widened with delight at first as she realised that Briony had described Daphne’s exact fantasy. Then she frowned.
“That sounds fantastic darling but aren’t you forgetting your bump?”
Briony wagged her head in mock despair.
“Oooh you silly girl! This bump isn’t permanent you know. Come May, I’ll be rid of it.”
“But, and I don’t want to sound nasty here; you, you, you’ll still be a bit plumpish for some time after. It takes time for the bump to, you know.”
“Not with me it doesn’t,” Briony grinned knowingly. “What was I like when you first met me?”
“Well you were very pretty and slim.”
“Exactly, and I was still feeding Ellairy.”
“Yes,” Daphne sighed, “you looked like the Madonna when you were feeding her. It was beautiful.”
Briony almost cried with pleasure at this description, Arfon had never said anything as beautiful as that. She contained her tears and kissed Daphne gently on the eyelids.
“You say the sweetest things. The truth was I was back to that shape only a month after Ellairy popped out. We’re good breeders in our family, ask Elspeth some time. She slips them out like shelling peas.”
Daphne’s eyes widened a bit.
“So you’re saying we’ll have to wait until June before we can do the deed.”
“If we’re to wear satin, sheath dresses, yes, and I do so want to wear a sheath. My first wedding gown was like an oversized wedding cake. I was young and didn’t know much.”
Moira had been listening to the conversation and trying to restrain her smiles. Eventually, she felt she had to intervene.
“Well if you’re talking a June wedding, we’ve got plenty of time. Would you like to see some styles?”
Both girls grinned and shared a thrill of excitement. Wedding gowns were just such beautiful dresses that reflected such happy occasions. It was hard for a girl not to feel romantic when looking at them. They stepped into the changing boutique where Moira brought out some examples. She looked thoughtfully at Briony whilst being tactful.
“These aren’t going to work with that bump darling. I think we’d best let Daphne try them on.”
Briony gave a snort of amusement as she commented to Moira.
“Oh you’ll make her day, there’s nothing she likes more than showing off in her dresses. Don’t you darling?” (She turned to Daphne who grinned openly.)
“I’ve never denied it darling. I am what I am.”
Having established the modus operandi, Moira set to with efficient speed as she slipped into professional gear. After only one dress, she realised she had a natural model in Daphne.
“My God Girl, you look stunning!”
Daphne secretly admired her willowy form in the full length mirrors while Briony watched enviously. It was the first time she had ever wished she didn’t have her bump. Moira sensed Briony’s disappointment and declared encouragingly.
“Never mind darling, I can see by your build that this dress will suite you as well as it suite’s her. You’re a few inches shorter but still of a shape and height to wear this style, or something very similar.”
Briony sighed wistfully.
“From where I’m standing at the moment, I feel like the mother of the bride.”
Daphne suddenly felt sorry for Briony, choosing a wedding dress was just soo-oo much pleasure and here she was doing just that while poor Briony had to sit on the sidelines. She turned to Briony.
“Oh you poor dear. Shall we forego this bit until you’re back in shape?”
“No!” Briony gasped. “You go ahead girl. I can see what they’re like on you just as well and it will give me encouragement to get back into shape after the bump. Try the others on.”
Thus encouraged, Daphne did just that while Moira invited the others to join in the pleasure.
Naturally, the most excited of all was Tara who got to choose her bride’s-maid’s dress. Moira had to smile when the brides debated who was to give them away. Daphne turned hopefully to Rachel.
“Would you give me away?”
Rachel’s jaw sagged with pleasure.
“Wouldn’t I just girl. Do I get to wear a nice two piece suite?”
“Oooh yes! I could just see you in a smart, close fitting dress and bolero jacket.”
At these words Briony became thoughtful.
“Who’s to give me away? I can’t see my dad agreeing to a gay wedding.”
Daphne wagged her head.
“Uuhm; it’s not a gay wedding darling. Technically, I’m still a man; the man who gave you that bump.”
Briony nodded agreement.
“Yes, but I can’t see my dad agreeing to walk me down the aisle to give me away to a man in a bridal gown. He never really forgave me for my stupidity in marrying Arfon.”
“Well this time you’ll be marrying a man who loves you properly and will never abuse you. D’you think I should meet your mum and dad?”
Briony swallowed fearfully. This was a question she had been dreading. She had hardly seen her parents since marrying Arfon. In fact her parents had never seen Ellairy. She didn’t answer the question and Daphne had sense enough not to press for an answer. There was plenty of time to address that issue. For now, it was a happy occasion and Daphne was determined to make it so, especially for Briony. To this end she tried on several more gowns while the rest of the girls tried out options as well.
It was a Christmas Eve well spent, if unusually so. Finally, they met up with Sion and James to complete some late-night shopping before they returned to Plas Las. They arrived in a joyous mood just as the heavens opened; fortunately, Terry met them at the door with a supper already made. This was an added bonus for the girls who were exhausted from shopping.
The evening found a timbre of its own as each brought their own personal rituals and family traditions to the occasion while the house rang to squeals of laughter and various shrieks of enjoyment as various party games surfaced from long forgotten memories to make the even an evening that few would forget. It also set the tone for parties yet to come.
The Ram 35
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After Christmas Daphne unexpectedly meets Briony's father.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 35.
Briony Davies Nee Lewis ... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Davies... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce Blodwen’s Partner.
The Ram 35.
That Christmas was one of the best that Sion and James and Tara could ever remember. James and Tara naturally oscillated between adult enjoyment and adolescent fun as befitted their maturing personalities. Sion of course indulged himself to the max as he joined in the spirit of the occasion while taking full advantage of the space and facilities that Daphne’s house had to offer.
On Christmas day Daphne sat cuddling Briony as they watched Sion ricocheting from game to person to food like a demented pinball. Ellairy was toddling happily between the adults savouring the love and attention of so many caring adults. By Christmas night the two youngest were exhausted as Briony and Tara finally put them to bed.
As Tara gazed enchanted by Ellairy’s blissful expression she turned to Briony and asked.
“What’s it like having babies? Does it really hurt?”
Briony smiled and explained as best she could.
“For some it’s easy; like shelling peas, for others it’s bloody painful and for yet others it can be dangerous or even fatal. I’m lucky, the Lewis’s breed easily.”
“I thought your name was Davies.” Tara added.
“Uuhm, that’s my married name darling; or it was. Lewis is my maiden name, we three Lewis sisters have no trouble with babies.”
“Is there a way of knowing if you’re going to have it easy or hard?” Tara pressed as they left Ellairy to the care of the ‘night-light’.
“None that I know of,” Briony shrugged, “There’s some correlation to wide or slender hips but even that’s not certain."
They returned to the adults who were playing charades and continued playing until tiredness took over. Briony had hardly had a better Christmas and she smiled as Daphne emerged from the bathroom.
“It was fun watching the children enjoy.” Briony sighed happily.
Daphne smiled as she slid onto the bed and snuggled up to Briony’s ‘bump’.
“There’ll be two more to enjoy it next Christmas.”
“Four if you count Blodwen and Joyce’s babies.”
“Mmmm yes,” Daphne croaked huskily, “I’ll be a daddy four times over and two more adopted. The only pity is that Dad never got to see this.”
“He’s been dead over ten years now Daph; what brought this on?”
“Oh, I was just missing him. I was thinking of those few Christmases we had together way back when I was a tiny kid, before grandma came to help.”
“You miss your dad don’t you?” Briony whispered.
“Aye,” Daphne choked back an involuntary sob, “my dad would have loved all this.”
Briony squeezed her tight then Daphne slipped under the duvet. As they embraced, Daphne wondered.
“Don’t you miss your mum and dad?”
“Yes,” Briony replied.”
“So what’s stopping you getting back with them?”
“I made a fool of myself by marrying Arfon. My dad warned me and begged me not to marry him but I was too headstrong. What do they say? Marry in haste, repent at leisure.”
“But you were young and naive, that’s no reason for cutting all ties.”
“I can’t face my dad. I know he’d gloat and say ‘I told you so.’ Anyway he’d be even worse about my marrying you, a tee-girl.”
“How d’you know?” Daphne wondered.
“He’s never been kind or tolerant. Our brothers had it much easier. He always used to make that awful remark about sons and daughters; you know ... with a son it’s just one prick to worry about; with a daughter it’s every prick in the village. He used it as an irrefutable argument to keep us under his thumb; consequently I never got on with my dad. I was the youngest and he’d been angry that my sisters left home to get married to escape his oppression. So with only me left, he moved heaven and earth to keep me on a short leash. I think he expected me to do the good daughter thing and look after them in old age. It was hell on earth being the last kid left standing; I got the brunt of all his misogyny and oppression. I married the first available man at the first available opportunity. It hurts like hell to admit my dad was right about Arfon but not right about all men.
“Am I hearing frying pans and fires here?” Daphne asked. “What about your mummy?”
“She does what dad says, that’s why I ended up marrying a domineering brute. My female role model was a doormat.”
Daphne nodded sympathetically. Her childhood had been idyllic compared to Briony’s despite having lost her mother as a young child and her father when she was nineteen. The estate and the open mountains had given her an unappreciated freedom. It was only after meeting other children in high-school that she had begun to realise how much she had. That and the rock solid friendship with Blodwen had served to make her early years ambrosaic.
Thankful for the childhood she had been gifted, Daphne slid a slender leg over Briony’s thigh and semi-spooned together. Briony shifted her butt to get comfortable and they fell asleep.
They were woken early by the now familiar invasion of the children followed by the adults. It seemed that Daphne and Briony’s bedroom had become the social hub of the house for ‘morning assembly’.
“Can we go to Llanidloes to see the boxing-day game?” Sion begged.
Daphne turned to Briony.
“Your call darling. How d’you feel?”
“What if I meet my dad?”
Daphne fell silent. She could have little input into Briony’s decision except to offer that as a crowd, with Terry and John for company, she stood little chance of being publically abused or chastised. Briony sucked thoughtfully.
“I could invite Elspeth. She used to love the football match, that’s where she met her husband.”
“Come one, come all,” Daphne offered, “ask her to stop by here on the way and we can go as a gang.”
A telephone call revealed that Elspeth was definitely going to the match and she was just about to leave for Llanidloes at that moment.
“You’re lucky to have caught me; I’ll be passing Plas Graig Las in about an hour.
“Serendipity,” Daphne replied to Elspeth as she shooed everybody out of their bedroom and quickly got ready.
They were finishing breakfast as Elspeth’s car was spotted by the eagle eyed Sion from his favourite breakfast window seat.
“They’re here!” he squealed as he erupted from his seat and burst into the yard to meet his cousins.
John and Terry finished feeding the livestock while the rest rushed to get ready and by nine two Landrovers were en-route for Llanidloes. Briony chatted at length with Elspeth about what they should do if she met their parents.
“Cross that bridge when, or if we come to it.” Elspeth advised.
“Does she ask about Ellairy?” Briony asked half knowing the answer.
“All the time; what d’you expect? She’s hurt that you haven’t been back. It’s not that dangerous. There’s been no sign of Arfon, he’s a wanted man; there’s a warrant out for his arrest.”
“He is dangerous Sis,” Briony replied, “he would have killed Daph if he’d found the ammunition.”
“D’you really think so?”
“He’s a very jealous creature and he’s got a violent temper, you never saw it. Even his bothers are wary and they’re no angels.
Sion was terrified of him and that’s his own blood son.”
“What about your house in Llanidloes, what’s happening to that?”
“It’s not my house, it’s in his name; he inherited it from his maiden aunt before we married.”
“It’s a pity seeing it empty, it’s a nice house.”
“Yeah, well it holds bad memories for me; never again.”
“With these final words the girls fell silent but in the other Landover the boys were chatting eagerly about the forthcoming game. Anticipating a muddy field, Daphne had dressed in a fairly neutral outfit comprising suede type, working boots (girly style,) skinny jeans, waxed jacket over a ‘darted’ quilted shirt and a black, felt ‘unisex’ hat. She’d even be able to kick the ball if it fell to her feet. She had no idea what to expect. In olden days, the village Boxing Day game had been essentially a ‘married versus singles’ affair where the ball was chased through the streets and goals were posted at four different locations around the town, two apiece for the married and single teams. Mayhem ensued and anybody could take a ‘pot-shot’ and even join in if they wanted. There were no rules about numbers; the only rule being that the ball could not be handled. The crowds lining the streets tended to block any windows being broken. All in all it had always been a wild but reasonably enjoyable affair.
Modern day sobriety had reduced it to a game played on the normal town soccer pitch but there were still no limits to the numbers allowed and spectators could kick the ball legitimately when it fell at their feet. It was still a festive affair and the pubs did well. The married versus singles rule was still applied loosely, while divorcees could choose their loyalties. Sion and his cousins were eager to play despite their young ages.
After parking up a fair way out of the town centre the gang made their way into town where the girls picked a suitable spot close to a pub. They settled there and the boys went off to the pre-arranged kick-off. James had agreed to look after the younger boys while Terry and John found their way into the melee that marked roughly where the kick-off usually started.
At the entrance to the sports ground the town mayor punted the ball onto the football field and the mayhem began. From the pub, Daphne could hear the shouting and the mayhem but the trees prevented a proper view so she took her leave of the other girls and explained she wanted to actually see the match.
“I used to be fairly good with a ball. I might just take a pot-shot if it comes my way.”
So saying she picked her way to the sports ground and eventually spotted Sion and his cousins rampaging up and down the field in the company of about another two hundred individuals ranging from nine to fifty nine, it was truly chaotic but hugely enjoyable.
She called to them and eventually made herself heard amidst the roar of the game. The three boys came trotting over as the mayhem went on around them.
“What d’you want Aunty Daph?” One of the cousins asked.
“Just checking you’re okay, where’s James?”
“In there somewhere,” Sion replied pointing to the wild melee that vaguely indicated where the ball might be.
“You be careful now, don’t get hurt.”
The three boys gave her patronising looks and returned to the fray. Daphne stood on what would ordinarily have been considered the ‘side-line’ but such was the nature of the game there were no fixed boundaries then the ball was punted high into the air and hurtled towards Daphne’s feet. The mob immediately turned in pursuit so she gave the ball a hefty kick and reversed the mob’s approach. With her urge to kick a ball satisfied, she retreated into a crowd of women and just watched. At noon the game ended and the boys came up to her expectantly. It was obvious they were expecting money to buy hamburgers. She indulged them and they joined the queue. As they waited a man in his late fifties suddenly turned and stared at the boys. The boys immediately recognised him.
“Oh look, it’s grand-dad.” Sion shouted.
“Hiya Grand-dad!” They called in unison for they were innocently ignorant of any complications that might arise.”
The man hesitated then approached them briskly.
“What are you three doing here?”
“Playing football.” Meifion the older cousin replied.
“I can see that, where’s Elspeth and Briony?”
Sion turned to Daphne and innocently asked.
“Where are they Auntie Daph?”
“Oh, they’re in the ... the white pub on the corner.”
“And who might you be Miss?” Briony’s father stared curiously at her.
“She’s Daphne, she’s marrying mummy.” Sion announced innocently.
The man’s jaw sagged as he frowned uncomprehendingly.
“What d’you mean lad? She can’t marry your mum, she’s a woman!””
Sion became defensive but refused to be contradicted.
“She can and she is. Daphne’s my mummy dad!”
Briony’s father glared at Daphne and challenged her.
“Would you like to explain? And what are these children doing near you?”
Daphne took a conciliatory tack.
“I’ll explain, but not here and the boys are just getting hamburgers. Then we’ll be returning to the others, their mothers, your daughters Elspeth and Briony I believe.”
The man frowned and glared.
“We’ll see about that, my grandchildren are not being looked after by a total stranger, especially some sort of lesbian or something. They’re coming with me!”
“Oh no they’re not! They’re with their mothers; I’m just getting them something to eat before we meet up. Leave them alone!”
The man tried to grab the boys but they had already anticipated some sort of conflict and moved behind Daphne. The man bellowed angrily.
“Come here you little buggers!”
His shout attracted the attentions of others in the queue and the Grand-father turned as if to appeal to the crowd as he loudly declared.
“Those are my grandchildren! She’s got them!”
Daphne said nothing but stood her ground as the grandfather continued agitating. Eventually a small crowd gathered and a couple of people recognised the older man. Daphne noticed another man step away towards the sport’s ground entrance and he returned quickly with a police officer. The officer also recognised the Grand-father and he spoke to him first.
“Well, Mr Lewis, what seems to be the problem?”
“It’s this woman, she’s got care of my children and she’s some sort of lesbian or something. The boys say she intends to marry my daughter Briony.”
“Who? Your younger daughter.”
“Yes, Briony, the prettiest one, my youngest. That boy, the youngest is Sion Davies my grandson by her.”
The officer turned to Daphne and took her aside.
“Now Miss, I do know this gentleman and his daughters. Do you have any identity?”
Daphne realised she was in a strange town were few might have known her, especially as she was en-femme. If she showed the officer her identity as Mr David Cadwalloder there was no knowing where this could go. She decided to bluff as she offered her handbag.
“I, I don’t have my identity here it’s with Briony in the Mount Inn. She’s sitting there with the rest of our party. She's got my purse cos’ she’s using my debit card.”
“The Mount Inn? Oh that’s just down the road.”
“Yes, she was sitting in the beer garden overlooking the street hoping that the game might turn into the old game, where they chased it around the streets. From the Beer garden they’d have had a good but safe view. If we can go to the Mount Inn I can show you my identity there.”
“Very well ma-am. Just wait here while I check with the boys. I know the older one Eifion, he’s Elspeth’s oldest. I know he’s Mr Lewis’s grandson.”
“Very well officer. I’ll wait here.”
By now a police woman had arrived and was checking with the boys. The facts all matched up so the police officer agreed to escort Daphne to the Mount Inn, while the lady police officer agreed to detain the boys. Daphne sagged with relief as she got in the police car and quickly arrived at The Mount Inn. They found Briony and Elspeth sitting in the beer garden and the officer quickly recognised them. Elspeth greeted him as he and Daphne entered.
“Hello Colin, long time no see.” She smiled.
“Hello Elspeth, yes it has been a long time and even longer for you Briony, do you recognise this lady?”
“Yes, it’s Daphne.”
“Ah, good, so far so good. Have you got her purse?”
At this point Daphne had to intervene.
“Uhm, I’m sorry officer. I had to tell a little lie back there in the crowd. I have in fact got my driving licence here in my purse.”
Colin stared suspiciously then asked.
“So why did you not show it to me back in the sports ground?”
“You’ll understand when you see the name on my driving licence.”
Daphne proffered the little plastic photo-card and Colin studied it. As he read the name there was a brief hesitation then he stared at Daphne. Finally he made sense of what he was seeing ... a very convincing transgendered person.
“Ah. I see now. I presume I continue addressing you as Miss or Ma-am.”
“Yes and thank you. I’ve got my licence counterfoil with me; I always carry a photocopy because it’s got my alternative femme name and signature in the little boxes on the back.”
Colin studied the green and pink form then nodded appreciatively.
“Well that’s all in order, and might I say you completely fooled me. You’re good; shall we go and collect the children?”
Daphne grinned appreciatively.
I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”
Daphne then glanced at Briony and Elspeth then explained.
“There was a bit of an incident on the field. Your father saw the boys. He more of less Accused me of abducting them.”
Both girls cursed as Briony explained to Colin.
“You know the problem with Arfon. I’m divorced from him. Daphne’s my new partner; she and I are getting married in June, after my bump goes down.”
Daphne had to admire Colin’s sang-froid as he digested the information and turned to Daphne without losing a stroke.
“So, you’re a man but a trans ... trans ... uhhm ... gendered man.”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that officer. The twins that Briony’s carrying are mine.”
Colin shook his head then smiled as he studied the Briony’s bump and asked her.
“D’you want to come and collect the children I’ll run all three of you back to the field.”
“I’d rather not face my father,” Briony confessed.
“There won’t be any trouble Bri. I know your dad of old. He shouts and tries to bully but he won’t get away with it with me. I’m no longer the boy who’s bottom he smacked for pinching his apples.”
Both Elspeth and Briony chuckled at the memory. Then their faces became serious as Briony collected Ellairy from Shirley and took her to see the grandfather she had never seen. Briony was glad that there would be a police officer there.
o00000o
In UK a purse is a lady's wallet it is usually carried in her 'handbag'. If the purse open's with a clasp like a minature sack then it is a traditional purse. With the advent of various plastic cards for ID and finance functions, a Lady's purse has come to more resemble a 'man's wallet' and the term wallet is becoming acceptable over in the UK to describe the small pocket sized folding purse that ladies use to carry their credit cards and paper money.
The term 'Handbag' is still used to used to describe the larger bag ladies use to carry all the other necessaries.
An American Purse is a British handbag.
The Ram 36
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This chapter describes Daphne's meeting with Briony's father. It doesn't go well. briony later meets her mother but Dapne hangs back.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 36
Briony Davies Nee Lewis ... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion ... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Davies... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy... Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane... Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies... Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce... Blodwen’s Partner.
Edward Lewis... Briony’s father.
Jean Lewis... Briony’s mother.
The Ram 36
As Colin threaded his police car carefully through the crowds returning from the Boxing Day match, Briony sat silent and reflective in the back seat next to Daphne while she hugged Ellairy close to her breast.
“Penny for your thoughts love?” Daphne ventured as she sensed Briony’s reservations.
“She’s worried about Dad,” Elspeth answered for her from the front passenger seat.
“There’s no need to be nervous.” Daphne reassured her. “He can’t bully you while Colin’s here.”
Briony looked up from staring at the back of the driver’s seat and Colin’s neck.
“He’ll probably make some sort of issue about not having seen Ellairy.”
Daphne reached across and gently squeezed Briony’s fingers as she offered her argument.
“If he makes an issue of it just tell him the truth. You couldn’t stand all the brow-beating and bullying. He’d do better to change his ways. Ask him why your mother hasn’t tried to contact you.”
“I don’t know if she has or hasn’t. I’ve never told her where I am or who I’m living with.”
“No, perhaps not but she could have tried to reach you through Elspeth,” Daphne turned to Elspeth to ask, “has she tried to find out from you sis?”
Elspeth wagged her head as she confirmed Daphne’s point.
“No. We speak at least once a week on the phone and she’s never once asked. I’ve met her several times since last Christmas but she’s never asked about Briony.”
“And that’s because she’s afraid of dad.” Briony confirmed.
Daphne nodded knowingly.
“We all know that darling but we’ve got to get your dad to acknowledge it. Preferably in front of Colin and that lady police officer.”
“Seems like a plan,” Colin offered as they turned into the sports field. “There they are now, standing on the veranda of the pavilion.”
He parked the car at the edge of the tarmac and the four adults approached while Daphne carried Ellairy. Briony’s dad stared uncomprehendingly for a moment before he realised who it was that Daphne was carrying. His eyes flashed angrily but a second glance at the accompanying police officer turned the menace to caution. Then he realised Briony was pregnant again and he hesitated. Edward Lewis realised he was not going to get his own way. Faced with hard reality he bit his lip and waited until they were met. Briony stood silent deliberately. She was determined to force her father to make the first move. After several seconds pained silence he spoke as he stepped towards Daphne to inspect the girl
“Is this Ellairy?”
“Who else d’you think it could be?”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen her for nearly fourteen months.”
“You never came around.”
“You should have brought Ellairy to see us. You’ve got the car.”
“Arfon wouldn’t let me.”
“See! I warned you about him but oo-oh no. You knew best. And now look at you. What’s this I hear about you living with this ... this creature, this weirdo?”
“There’s no need to be offensive. Daphne’s twice the man you ever where and twenty times the man Arfon was!”
“Huh! A fucking weirdo, a half man or is it a half woman?”
Briony had to bite her lip before replying.
“Daphne is my partner; she’s the father of my twins.”
Her father was almost incandescent with rage.
“Can you hear yourself girl!!!? You can’t even get the pronouns right because of this bloody freak! She is the father! She!? She!? How can she be the father!? We’d all be better off if this fucking freak was dead!
At this point Colin intervened as his colleague WPC Evans moved to place herself between Daphne, Briony and her dad.
“Mr Lewis, I must warn you, remarks like that are illegal, they incite hatred.”
Edward Lewis fell silent but he fumed with frustration; he wanted to hit the pervert in front of him ... he wanted to snatch his grand-daughter from the pervert’s grasp. Instead he was being forced to accept the damnable monstrosity that stood blatantly mocking him. He turned to Briony and snapped.
“Are you coming home to see your mother? I expect she’ll want to see you.”
“And Ellairy... and Sion!” Briony added angrily. “If you’ll let her.”
“I’m not stopping you or your mother but that; that freak isn’t coming into my house.”
“Then neither are we.” Briony snapped back.
Edward lewis stormed off towards the Pavillion to get himself a pint. Elspeth decided she had better try and be a peace broker.
“If we go around there, I could speak to mum. She could come out to meet you in the street.
“Would you like me to take you around there?” Colin offered.
Briony glanced sideways at her departing father and Colin reassured her.
Just you, Daphne and Elspeth. You can leave the little girl with your friends in The Mount or bring her to see your mum. I can squeeze the boys in as well if you want.
“What about him?” She wondered nodding towards her father.
“He lost his licence just before Christmas. There won’t be room in the police car. He’ll have to walk. That will give you at least half an hour at the house before he gets there.”
Briony bit her lip thoughtfully then asked.
“How did he lose it?”
“Drunk in charge.”
“Huh! Why doesn’t that surprise me? You finally managed to catch him then.”
“He crashed the car. Didn’t you know?”
Briony was only mildly surprised; she actually wondered how her father had got away without crashing for years.
“No I didn’t. We haven’t talked more than twice since I married Arfon and not at all since last Christmas.”
“What about your mam?”
“If he wouldn’t talk then she wouldn’t; she’s a doormat!”
“D’you want to see her?”
“Might as well. If he’s not there she might just risk it. Beside’s Elspeth was going to see her anyway.”
“You might as well see her Sis,” Elspeth added “at least we know he won’t be here.”
“I’ll wait by the gate,” Briony replied, “you go and see her. If she wants to see Ellairy she can come out.”
“If you say so,” Elspeth sighed. She had been secretly hoping for some sort of reconciliation.
Edward Lewis returned to the group with a pint in a large plastic cup. When he learned that briony was getting a lift to the house he wanted to accompany the,.
Colin was quite forceful in refusing Briony’s father a ride home and Edward Lewis’s personality quickly revealed itself. He tried bullying and threatening but Colin was no longer the boy caught scrumping. He gave the older man a clear warning then left with the others in his car. Edward Lewis was left fuming impotently at the gates to the sports ground; he faced a two or three mile walk to the Lewis family home. Despite the crowded streets, Colin arrived at the house in less than ten minutes. When they arrived, Colin pulled over some way from the house so as to be invisible.
“I’ll wait behind the old railway bridge buttresses. You’ll have to sort out your own domestics.”
With the arrangements sorted, Elspeth trudged up to the door and let herself in; she still had her own front door key.
“Are you there Mam?”
A voice answered from far back in the house.
“In here Elspeth love. Are the children with you?”
“The boys are Mam, Fion’s staying with a friend from school, she’s not interested in the football.”
“I would have thought she’d have wanted to see her Nine and Tide at Christmas.”
“She doesn’t like dad, he tries to control her just like he did us.”
“So it’s just you and the boys.”
“No.”
“Oh. Who else?”
“Somebody special.”
“Who?”
“Who d’you think?”
“Don’t be silly Elspeth! Who?”
“Your other granddaughter.”
“Who? Margaret?”
“No. She’s up in Leeds with her other grandparents.”
“Who then? Don’t play games now, who ... oh! Granddaughter! Oh my God! Briony’s girl!”
“The very one. Ellairy! Briony’s here as well, with Sion.”
Her mother stared open-mouthed for several seconds before recovering her wits. Then tears started to sneak out as she dried her hands and tidied her hair.
“What’s she like.”
“Come and see. Briony’s outside.”
Her mother almost fell as she rushed towards the door and stumbled on the vacuum cleaner tube. As soon as she reached the door she was calling Briony’s name.
Briony turned from talking to Daphne but Sion had already dashed towards the garden gate of his nine’s home. He squealed with innocent delight and flung the gate open as he dashed down the Garden path. His nine reached out and swept him up into her arms as she called to her youngest daughter.
“Come on in. Come in; all of you!”
Briony accepted the invitation but Daphne decided to hang back. Briony tried to encourage her but Daphne explained.
“If you want some sort of reconciliation, I think first you’d better help her realise what she’s missed, namely Ellairy growing up. I get the feeling you’re ready for some sort of normalisation with your mum.”
Briony nodded and reluctantly parted company as they walked from the railway bridge to the garden gate. Sion, who was pushing Ellairy in the buggy turned to ask.
“Aren’t you coming to see Nine auntie Daph?”
“Not just yet darling, perhaps another day.”
She turned to return to the police car and tapped on Colin’s window. He looked up from his notebook and asked as Daphne got in.
“Aren’t you going to see her mum? There’s no need to be afraid of her father, I’m here to keep the peace.”
“It’s not that officer and thanks for the reassurance. I just think Briony needs to take small steps with her mum. It’s been a pretty traumatic few years what with Arfon’s abuse and her father’s overbearing approach to his daughters.”
“Ain’t that the truth!? I’ve just been talking to Sergeant Davies over in Machynlleth, you’re quite well known over there.”
“Known to the police,” Daphne grinned, “doesn’t sound too good does it?”
Colin grinned back.
“Bad choice of words. Known as David Cadwalloder I must add. He says nobody had the faintest inkling about Daphne until a short while ago, he says you kept very it much to yourself. You don’t come this way very often though.”
“No cause." Daphne shrugged. "The main livestock markets are in Machynlleth and Newtown. Hey-up, look Briony’s meeting her mam at the gate. That is her mam isn’t it?”
Colin nodded as they watched the women embrace and disappear indoors.
o0o
After releasing her daughter Briony from an emotional embrace Jean Lewis led her inside where Elspeth had prepared some cake and started making tea. Jean was carrying Ellairy tight to her breast as tears squeezed their way to her eyes. She settled in the arm chair while Briony perched somewhat nervously on the edge of the sofa. She turned to Sion and smiled.
“Go and help Auntie Elspeth with the tea darling, she’ll probably give you some cake before your cousins eat it all.”
Even at the early age of ten, Sion had sense enough to know there was adult stuff being discussed and he slipped away to hopefully get some cake. Briony turned to face her mother still uncertain as to how to break the news of her obvious pregnancy and her new partner.
Through tearful eyes, her mother nodded towards the obvious bump and asked.
“Where you ever going to tell me?”
“Not initially. Blame dad, I was sick of his bullying and overbearance. I had to get away; you know how domineering he is. Like my sisters, I had no intentions of being stuck as a screwed up old spinster caring for him in his old age. You know what he’s like.”
“You made a bad choice though; your dad did warn you.”
“Yes, you’re right, he was right. Perhaps if I hadn’t been so desperate to get away I might have waited and chosen somebody better.”
“You were always too good for any of those Davies boys. You’re a beautiful girl Briony, you were one of the prettiest in the town ... you still are. So who’s the father of this new baby?” She finished by staring at Briony’s bump.
“He’s my new partner and a much lovelier man than Arfon. You couldn’t meet a nicer, more gentle person; oh! And it’s twins by the way. There’s twins of her side.”
As she accidently slipped out the misnomered pronoun Briony silently cursed herself. Fortunately her mother missed the mistake as she continued staring at Briony’s belly. Jean Lewis hadn’t been listening that intently as she dwelt upon the forthcoming birth. The news of twins had surprised and excited her. She looked up having completely missed the pronoun faux-pas.
“Have you thought of names for them?”
“Yes, all the time. My partner has a couple in mind from that side of the family. Would you like to choose the little girl’s name? Think of this opportunity as a peace offering.”
Jean Lewis teared up again. Her youngest daughter Briony had always been the most considerate child of all her children, even if she was a bit strong willed. When Briony had finally snapped and virtually run away with Arfon, (although there had been a wedding,) it had brought home to Jean just how overbearing and domineering her husband Edward was.
Now that same ‘run-away’ daughter was offering some sort of reconciliation and Jean was determined to grab it. She reached out to hold Ellairy to receive a beautiful smile from the child as Ellairy reached out to be cuddled. It was one of the richest rewards Jean could have asked for. She turned to thank Briony then noticed her daughter’s thoughtful expression.
“What’s wrong; is there a problem?”
“Yes,” Briony replied as Elspeth appeared with the tray of tea and cakes.
Jean’s heart thudded with trepidation; ‘everything seemed to be going so well’. She glanced fearfully at her daughters who now shared the sofa.
“Go on then, what’s wrong?”
Briony glanced at Elspeth who squeezed her had in support.
“Tell her sis, you’re going to have to bite the bullet.
Jean’s expression tightened to one of fear as her mind raced.
“It’s not the babies is it, there’s nothing wrong is there?”
Briony swallowed then decided to get it all out in one simple statement.
“No. The babies are fine, it’s their father, my partner; she’s transgendered.”
This time Jean did pick up on the pronoun as she realised what was being said.
“Transgendered? You mean like on television?”
Briony was not yet prepared to go into explanations. First she had to gauge her mother’s reaction. She replied monosyllabically to let her mother digest the fact and then respond.
“Yes.”
“But how can he be trans gendered if he’s the father of your babies?”
“She lives mostly as a woman and I refer to her as she. She calls herself Daphne.”
“Daphne! Daphne but he’s fathered your babies?”
“No mummy. She’s fathered my babies. I’ve told you, Daphne presents mainly as a woman.”
Jean sat back and digested the conundrum then she spoke softly.
“You’d better not let your dad find out. He’s very narrow minded.”
Elspeth let out an involuntary snort as she riposted.
“Huh! Tell us something we don’t know. Why d’you think we all left home a-ess-a-pee?”
Briony nodded then added the explosive rider.
“Dad already knows, he met us at the football game, he’s met Daphne and he was very abusive.”
Jean nodded and slumped in the chair.
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me? What did he say?”
“He said it would be better if Daphne were dead.”
“That sounds like your dad. What happened?”
Elspeth interrupted.
“Colin was there and his colleague WPC Sara Evans. They both heard it. Colin warned dad off.”
“So there was no trouble then,” Jean sagged with relief.
“No, Colin gave us a lift while Sarah went to meet the others. They were in the Mount Inn.
“Where’s your dad now?”
“Probably walking home, that’ll teach him to crash his car.” Briony replied.
“He could be hear any minute!” Jean’s face paled. “Where’s this hus ... where’s this partner of yours?”
“Outside in the police car with Colin. Colin’s here to keep the peace.”
“Police Car! Colin’s outside!?”
“Yes. Daphne’s avoiding trouble. She won’t come in but she’s waiting outside in the patrol car if you want to meet her. She’s very thoughtful like that; she doesn’t want to make trouble.”
Jean calmed down slightly at this revelation. She sipped nervously on her tea but was too tense to eat any cake. She glanced out of the window half expecting to see Daphne by the gate, then she stood carefully to her feet.
“Where is this partner of yours?”
“We left her talking to Colin in the patrol car behind the bridge. You can’t see them from the house.”
“I want to see hi ... I mean her. Is that right? Her?”
“Yes mam. While she’s dressed as a woman, she’s her.”
“Go and tell her to come in.”
“No mam. She won’t come in, as I said, she won’t cause trouble. Dad threatened her and told her she could not go into this house. He said it in front of Colin and Sarah so dad could make an issue of it if Daphne came in. If you want to see her, you’ll have to meet by the bridge. That way it doesn’t compromise Colin as the keeper of the peace and Dad has no excuse to make trouble.”
Jean frowned and declared she had a right to invite anybody she wanted into her own home. However she bowed to Briony’s wisdom and agreed to meet at the bridge. She turned to Elspeth.
“Make another tray of tea and some more cake. I may not be able to invite her in but I can show hospitality. You’d better make some for Colin as well.”
This done they prepared to meet at the bridge and Jean girded her loins as she prepared to meet her future ‘son/daughter-in-law.
The Ram 37.
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Daphne's first encounter with Jean Lewis, Briony's mother.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 37.
Briony Davies Nee Lewis ... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Davies... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy... Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane... Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies... Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce... Blodwen’s Partner.
Edward Lewis... Briony’s father.
Jean Lewis... Briony’s mother.
The Ram 37.
Daphne and Colin were chatting about Arfon’s attack on Plas Graig Las when Colin spotted movement at the front door.
“Hey-up! Something’s happening. It’s the girls and their mother.”
“They’ve got a tray, they’re coming over here.” Daphne observed as Colin got out anticipating any problems.
Jean crossed the road, and strode along the verge towards the Bridge as Colin stood resting his arms on the roof of the patrol car.
“Afternoon Mrs Lewis. Am I to take it that tea’s for us.”
“You and that other person,”
Jean had momentarily forgotten Daphne’s name in all the tension. Colin saved her from embarrassment.
“Daphne Mrs Lewis, Daphne Cadwalloder.”
He tapped the roof of the car as prearranged and Daphne emerged as Jean Lewis approached to within a few feet. She looked up into the cool grey-green eyes and failed to read them.
‘They were not girl’s eyes yet nor where they a man’s.’
She found herself nervously casting around for somewhere to put the tray but the bonnet was too sloped with the car parked canted on the verge. Eventually she rested it carefully on the roof next to Colin then stood back to better study the tall slender conundrum before her. For her part, Daphne said nothing to avoid any charges of provoking trouble but because she was one of the tallest, she laid the stacked cups out on the car roof and proceeded to pour the tea. Jean Lewis did not know what to say so Colin broke the impasse.
“Two sugars and lots of milk for me Daph.”
This broke the ice insofar as it compelled Jean Lewis to talk as Daphne turned inquisitively whilst brandishing the pot.
“Oh. Milk, no sugar please.”
The others made their orders and soon they were grouped around the patrol car. Briony decided to introduce Daphne.
“Uuuhm, Mam, this is Daphne my intended partner; Daphne this is my mam, Jean, Jean Lewis.”
Cautiously, Daphne extended a hand as she replied.
“Delighted to meet you Mrs Lewis.”
“You’d better call me Jean.”
Daphne smiled weakly and the silence stubbornly refused to go away. Briony was too nervous to force the pace, her mother was still unsettled and Daphne simply didn’t know what to say to break the uncertain tension. In the end it was Sion who inadvertently eased the logjam of uncertainty.
“Daphne’s got a farm and she’s given me a horse.”
Jean turned to her grandson seeking enlightenment.
“Oh. What sort of horse.”
Sion frowned at the seeming fatuousness of the question.
“A horse - horse Nine, you know one of those things with four legs and a tail. Her name is Gabby, short for Gabriella. I’ll be able to ride her next Christmas.”
The last statement made it clear that Sion fully expected to be living with Daphne and his mum a year from then. His words made it obvious he knew their plans and he was included in them. Jean glanced up at Daphne.
“So you have every intention of marrying Briony.”
“Uuuhm, yes. I do.”
“You made that sound like the wedding service right there.”
“Well it’s the truth Mrs Lewis; we do plan on getting married in June a couple of months after our children are born.”
“And d’you not think we should have any say?”
Daphne fell silent. She could think of a dozen admonishments but she bit her tongue. Briony was an adult woman with a ten-year-old son and twenty-one month daughter, so in Daphne’s eyes that left Briony absolutely free to decide her own fate. Jean took Daphne’s silence to be some sort of acquiescence and she dug herself deeper.
“We reserve the right to advise our own daughter about choices in marriage, especially as she chose so badly the first time.”
Daphne was about to let rip but Briony leapt in angrily.
“It wasn’t a marriage mam; that was an escape attempt!”
“Well it wasn’t very successful was it?”
“What d’you mean, I escaped! I’m free now aren’t I? Free to marry the partner of my choice.”
“So she’s your choice. Well I suppose at least she’ll not knock you or our grandchildren about. She’s only a tall, skinny, slip of a thing.”
Briony got a little angry at the subliminal suggestion of ownership of her children and the criticism of Daphne’s slender, willowy frame. She snapped angrily again.
“What d’you mean your grandchildren? They’re my children; you have no say in their welfare or future. If you want to see them in future, you’ll have to accept Daphne for who she is.”
Jean could make no immediate riposte to Briony so she turned to Daphne.
“And what sort of person are you. Do you know how to look after our daughter?”
Daphne was about to answer when Briony plunged in again.
“I’ll tell you want sort of person she is. She’s the sort of person who rescued me and ‘your grandchildren’ from certain freezing death. She's the sort of person who gave us food and shelter for days without any question of reward or payment. She’s the sort of person who kept us under her roof alone and vulnerable without any salacious suggestions of payment for services rendered; you know ... sex or anything. She’s the sort of person who’d make you an excellent son-in-law if you could but see your way past the gender thing!”
“If I look past ‘The gender thing,’ as you call it ... all I can see is another daughter-in-law.”
This time Daphne got her argument in before Briony took off on another verbal rampage.”
“Would another daughter-in-law be a bad thing Mrs Lewis?”
The question left Jean Lewis floundering as she searched for a valid material reason that would make a daughter-in-law unacceptable. The only factor that kept crashing into her mind was acceptability ... what would other people think, what would the chapel say. She cursed silently as she struggled to find a valid reason that did not hinge on bigotry and prejudice.
“What do your own parents think? Do they accept your (She was about to say perversion but she just managed to stop herself.) condition?”
Daphne savoured her answer despite the painful memory it resurrected.
“My parents are dead Mrs Lewis. My mother died when I was just turned two and my father died when I was nineteen. He had been seriously ill and virtually house-bound since I was sixteen”
Jean’s agile mind did some mental arithmetic as she wondered how one so young had come by a farm. Naturally she asked the question.
“So how did you come by the farm? Is it paid for? Can you really support my daughter?”
Elspeth’s derisive snort brought her mother up short and Jean rounded on her other daughter.
“What are you sniggering at?”
Elspeth snapped back.
“Daphne’s not poor mam. She’s not some dirt grubbing, hand-to-mouth, hill farmer.”
It was at last, Daphne’s turn to take the offensive as she found some moral factor to hang an accusative question on. Attack was often the best form of defence.
“Is this what it’s all about, whether I can support your daughter?”
“Yes! Can’t you get that?” Jean protested. “It’s that and this transgender business.”
“So why didn’t you simply ask whether I could support her or not?”
“That’s her father’s job. He’s not here to ask.”
“And he never will be!” Briony cursed. “If you still can’t get out from under his thumb, then you’re unlikely to see these children again. If Daphne’s not welcome in your home then you aren’t welcome in ours.”
It was Daphne’s turn to become a moderator. She had been ‘listening-between-the-lines’ and it seemed that Briony’s mum was not entirely against their union.
“Whoa! Hold on Bri; let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. We’re not even married yet, aren’t you jumping in a bit early. I think your mum can be persuaded to accept us ... or rather, me.”
Spotting a chance at reconciliation or compromise, Jean ventured forward carefully and thoughtfully.
‘Briony had often been strong-willed and it was that cavalier streak that had precipitated the breakdown with her father; which was not to say that Edward had not been more responsible than Briony over the breakdown. It seemed that her new partner, this Trans-whatever person was a bit more amenable than Arfon and Edward.’
She caught Daphne’s eye and they each recognised that the other was trying to reach some sort of compromise. Jean ventured another question to Daphne.
“What are you suggesting girl?”
Daphne noted the female noun and silently thanked Jean Lewis. It was a small advance but at least things were moving in the right direction. She replied in a conciliatory tone.
“I’m saying we shouldn’t burn any boats yet for the children’s sakes ... the born and the unborn.”
Jean recognised the olive branch and paused thoughtfully. She wondered if this girl was playing a game of emotional chess or if this was a genuine offer of conciliation. She hit the ball firmly back into Daphne’s court.
“So what are you suggesting?”
“I don’t know ... yet! But we’ve obviously started out on the wrong foot. Perhaps if you backed up a bit and we explored other avenues, not today, not even tomorrow but before we get married.”
“So. If I ‘back up a bit’ as you put it why can’t you ‘back up a bit’ as well?”
Daphne spoke softly to reinforce the sincerity of her statement.
“I can’t back up Mrs Lewis. There is nowhere to ‘back-up to’; I’m transgendered. There never was any heterosexual condition to start from. I was born this way and I’ll always be this way. There’s no way back for me. That’s the bottom line I’m afraid.”
For the first time, Jean Lewis got an insight into Daphne’s life. She didn’t understand what she saw but she certainly felt the reality and the subsequent weight of that burden. She replied but her words sounded fatuous even as they left her lips.
“You’re stuck like that aren’t you?”
“Like a wasp in jam, Jean, like shit to a blanket. It’s cast in stone.”
“But if you’re a woman, why do you like women?” Surely you’d want to marry a man!”
Daphne sighed. The next step was going to be the acid test. ‘Could Jean Lewis understand it?’ Daphne wondered.
“I don’t want to marry a Man Mrs Lewis. I’m transgendered, not gay. Well no, that’s not exactly right, I’m intergendered. That’s a sort of gender ‘inbetweeny’”
Jean Lewis was now more confused but she manfully struggled to make sense of it all. Her only conception of gender was either male or female, the logical follow-on was that transgendered people strove to transition to the other sex. Now here was somebody purporting to be an ‘Inbetweenie’ and not wishing to move all the way across the gender divide. Jean Lewis had a problem with that. She found it difficult, indeed almost impossible to accept that somebody could voluntarily want to remain somewhere ‘in-between’. Jean’s other problem was that this individual wanted to marry her daughter. Indeed ... had already impregnated her daughter.
She stared first at the floor, then at Briony then towards her other daughter Elspeth and finally towards Colin the police officer. Nowhere did she find support or censure or any flicker of acknowledgement as each individual remained resolutely impassive. She was forced to turn again to Daphne who at least bore some semblance of compassion in her expression, some indication of recognising the turmoil Jean was going through. Daphne recognised Jean’s silence as an indicator of her confusion so she ventured a comment.
“I know it’s difficult to understand Mrs Williams, it was just as difficult and painful for me when I first realised there was something different about me. I had to come to terms with this alone and un-aided at a very early age.”
Jean seized the lifeline that Daphne seemed to offer. By admitting to her own difficulties in coming to terms with her problem, Daphne was helping Jean come to terms with her conflicts and, equally importantly, save face. She asked Daphne.
“How old where you when this ... this gender thing started?”
“I was very young Mrs Williams. I was about four I think.”
“You think; didn’t you know?”
“It wasn’t that certain; it wasn’t like some sort of brilliant flash of revelation. I’ve worked it out now but back then I was hopelessly lost. As I said, I’m not transgendered, I’m intergendered. I didn’t know if I was Arthur or Martha back then. I was four! What does a four-year-old know especially when he has nobody to confide in, nobody to ask.”
“There was your father.” Jean offered lamely. “You could have confided in him.”
Daphne frowned. Back then, her dad was still recovering from his own losses, the loss of his wife and still-born daughter. As a very young son, Daphne/David just had to get on with stuff until his grandmother came to help and that had not really improved things. She was elderly and frail herself but set in her ways. David had sensed that his grandmother would not have approved of his cross-dressing. Hence he always did it whilst locked away in the attic where his grandmother could not climb and his father was too busy to ever go. As he thought back to his secret activities, David explained a little further.
“It started in a small way at first with my cross-dressing. I had the opportunity because my father never threw away my mother’s stuff. He moved it up to the attic and just went on with his life as best he could. He never married again and he told me he loved her too much to marry somebody else. For that I loved him, I had read the nursery stories about wicked step-mothers and I was relieved that daddy was not bringing one into our home. I thought the very word ‘step’ was another word for strict or wicked.
My Nan came for a few years but she died when I was eleven and after that I was more or less on my own. My dad was too busy with trying to keep the farm in profit and I ended up more or less living with a friend, Blodwen from the neighbouring farm. Then my dad took ill, so at sixteen I finished school and more or less took over the practical, physical side of running farm. When I was nineteen, he died. He never knew about my intergenderism, he never ever found out.”
“So you’ve been this way all your life?” Jean pressed.
Daphne shrugged and nodded. There was nothing else of consequence to say.
The silence became oppressive but Jean could not take her eyes of Daphne.
‘The girl wasn’t that bad looking; she would not have immediately recognised her for a boy’.
Daphne sensed the ‘inspection’ but she was quite used to people checking her over. Jean was just yet another curious ‘rubberneck’ so Daphne ignored the ‘inspection’ as she sipped her tea and turned to talk to Colin the police officer about getting a lift to her own car parked across town. As she finished her tea, she replaced it delicately on the tray then turned again to Briony’s mum.
“Well Mrs Lewis, I must thank you for the tea but I’ll have to be going soon. I have other stuff to be getting on with and I’d rather not be here when your husband arrives. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
Jean turned to Colin with beseechment writ large in her eyes.
“I’d prefer for her to stay. I think there’s stuff we need to sort out. Would you stay please Colin, to stop any trouble?”
“That’s up to Miss Cadwalloder Mrs Williams. If she prefers to avoid trouble then I can only commend her. This is a domestic issue and the police don’t usually get involved unless violence is likely. If Miss Cadwalloder wishes to avoid violence then I would prefer to accede to her wish to leave.”
He turned to Daphne who nodded despondently as she agreed.
“It’s best if I go. There’ll be no trouble that way.”
Jean protested vehemently.
“But you can’t go. This business has got to be resolved. I have no wish to lose my grandchildren yet again.”
Briony also wanted the issues resolved so she turned to Daphne and nervously asked.
“D’you have to go? This business has to be sorted. Colin’s here so dad can’t get violent.”
“It’s what he’ll do after we’re gone.” Daphne argued. “Colin can’t stay here forever. I don’t want to be the catalyst to any trouble between your mam and dad. Besides, it’s entirely in your mam’s court now. It’s up to her to tell her husband what she wants ... for a change.”
Jean glared at Daphne when she recognised the criticism. She was about to scold Daphne but realised that what Daphne had implied was true. She had been a bit of a doormat and it had cost her her own children. Not one of her sons or daughters had stayed in Llanidloes, all of them, sons and daughters had moved away. She had slowly come to realise this after Briony had disappeared last Christmas. Briony’s return had only served to reinforce her mother’s insight. She had been something of a doormat.
Now, with Colin to protect her and Daphne as a perfect excuse to finally have it out with Edward, Jean was hoping fervently for a showdown with her husband. Jean’s anger had been slowly boiling up over the last decade. As they reached an uncertain standoff, Elspeth observed.
“I hate to add any further problem but that’s dad just reaching the cross roads. He’s limping as well.”
Jean turned to watch and frowned.
“His foot’s sore. He hurt it a couple of weeks back and if he uses it too much it flares up. It won’t improve his mood.”
“Serve him right,” Briony snapped then added, “he never needed an excuse to bully us anyway ... bad mood or not.”
Daphne said nothing but turned to glance surreptitiously at Colin as she quietly asked advice.
“D’you think I’d better go?”
Colin hesitated, studied Edward Lewis as he limped towards the garden gate then answered.
“He looks too sore to offer any sort of violence. You wait in the car, I’ll go with Mrs Lewis to meet him.”
o0o
Author's note.
I North and Mid Wales grandmother and grandfather are known as Nine and Tide. In South Wales grandparentsa are known as Mam-gi and Tad-gi,
Children will call their grandparents Nine and Tide just as other british children have many other local names Like Ninah and Gramps on the Wirral near Liverpool. In UK there must be dozens of different names for Grand-parents and would think the USA has a hundred more.
XZXX
Bev.
The Ram 38.
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Daphne meets the rest of Briony's family and inevitably the wedding list gets longer.
When I am old, I shall wear purple and behave disgracefully.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 38
Briony Davies Nee Lewis ... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Davies... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy... Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane... Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies... Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce... Blodwen’s Partner.
Moira... Bridal boutique owner Newtown
Edward Lewis... Briony’s father.
Jean Lewis... Briony’s mother.
Colin... Llanidloes police officer.
Sarah... Llanidloes Police woman.
Brian ... Briony’s oldest brother
Rachel ... Briony’s oldest sister
The Ram 38.
Edward Lewis rested by his garden gate to ease his foot as he stared sullenly at his wife’s approach. She was accompanied by Colin the Police officer and the older man could also see his two daughters following with the grandchildren. He could not see the police car parked behind the buttress of the old railway bridge thus he could not see Daphne sitting therein.
“That weirdo better hadn’t be anywhere near my house.” He called the approaching group.
Colin immediately responded to establish his clear authority.
“There are no weirdoes anywhere Mr Lewis. Language like that is not conducive to good order.”
“I don’t bloody care about ‘good order’. I don’t want that ... that trans-thingy in my house.”
“There’s nobody in your house Mr Lewis. Your family are all here, outside, on the public road.”
Having established a clear framework in which to work, Colin glanced at Jean Lewis to indicate the ball was in her park. Jean seized the imitative while her husband still digested the news that nobody was in the house.
“I’m afraid there are going to have to be some adjustments around here Eddie.”
“Such as.” He growled.
“Well I want to see my grandchildren growing up even if you don’t.”
“Oh! And how d’you intend to do that?”
“If you won’t allow their father to come here, I’ll go to their home.”
“And how d’you intend to do that? The car is off the road.”
“I can get the car repaired. I’ve still got my licence.”
“Over my dead body. That’s my car. You only drive it as a favour.”
Jean fumed impotently. Her husband was right. He had a tight hold on the purse strings and there just wasn’t enough money for two cars for they lived on a modest pension. Briony spotted the issue and recognised it as yet another instrument that her father used in his life as a control freak. She decided to add some spice to the bubbling pot by whispering in her mother’s ear.
‘There’s no problem with transport Mam, Daphne’ can easily afford a car, she’s got two already and I’ve got my own as well.’
Thus ‘rearmed’ with options, Jean retaliated.
“Transport isn’t an issue. Briony’s new husband has plenty of options.”
“Such as?” Eddie demanded.
Jean realised it was presumptuous to assume that Daphne would provide a car for Jean’s own personal use but Briony knew better. She intervened before Jean could answer.
“Daphne will provide a car for Mum’s use. Daphne will be the registered owner but she can have named drivers only on the policy.
That will exclude you.”
Edward Lewis’s lip curled contemptuously.
“Daphne this! Daphne that! Why isn’t the bloody pervert here to fight his own battles?”
“She doesn’t have any battles with you!” Briony snapped. “She hardly knows you. She’s only met you once and already she knows what you’re like. Why would she want to meet you or have anything to do with you?”
“He’s a coward. Letting women fight his battles for him. Go on! Tell me why he isn’t here!”
Briony sighed wearily. There was no getting though to her bigoted father.
“She’s not here ... did you get that? It's she not he! Daphne is a she! Can't you get that throughh your thick skull!
And she’s not here because you categorically stated you didn’t want her in your house. Why would she want to go where she’s not wanted?”
“She better hadn’t try either!”
Briony lost patience. Her father was being irrational and incoherent. There was no getting through to him. She wagged her head resignedly and cursed softly to her mother.
“There’s no sense in him. There never was. Once a bully, always a bully. I’m leaving. You know how to get hold of me now. I’ll not tell you where I’m living. You only know Daphne’s femme name so you can’t trace our house. Come on Sion, bring Ellairy, are you coming Elspeth?”
Briony’s sister nodded her head, gathered her sons and gave her mother a final embrace.
“Let me know when you want to see Briony, and tell us if you’re coming to the wedding.”
Edward Lewis bellowed angrily.
“She’s not going to any bloody wedding to that freak!”
Finally Jean snapped.
“I’ll go to any bloody wedding I want, and you’ll not stop me!”
This final rebellion was the last straw for the man. He lurched forward on his injured foot and swung a punch that caught his wife on the temple she collapsed like a felled ox and Colin sprang forward to prevent any further abuse. For a moment they scuffled violently until Colin finally overpowered him and managed to clamp a pair of handcuffs on the rampaging father. Edward Lewis cursed and roared but to no avail. With his hands firmly cuffed behind him he could do no more violence. Briony and Elspeth were already tending their unconscious mother. Colin looked down as he gasped for breath after struggling with the old man. Jean’s condition worried him and he signed to Daphne in the patrol car.
“Call an ambulance!”
At first Daphne did not understand Colin’s urgent hand signing but eventually she got the message after cursing herself for being a ‘bit thick’.
The patrol car radio was switched on and it was a simple matter to raise the station in Llanidloes. Daphne waved confirmation then took the first aid kit and rushed to the scene. On seeing her, Edward Lewis tried to launch a kick but Colin anticipated it and brought his truncheon down hard on the man’s knee.
“No you don’t! You’ve done enough damage for one day!”
The truncheon blow brought the older man to his knees and Daphne was free to kneel beside Jean. She checked her pupils and sagged with relief.
“There doesn’t seem to be any serious damage. No blood from the ears or nose and her pupils are the same size. This is a nasty bump on her head though; she must have struck the kerb as she fell. She’s just unconscious I think, but there’s no certainty, that lump’s quite nasty. Let’s just pray.”
“It was a hell of blow!” Colin replied.
“That’s the last straw!” Briony declared as she held a frightened Sion and Ellairy close to her. Elspeth was also comforting her two sons who had also been shocked at their grandfather’s violence.
“Come on Sis, were going; I’m not subjecting my kids to this sort of violence.”
Colin looked up and wagged his head.
“Nobody can go anywhere just yet girls. Firstly I’ll need statements and secondly I’ve got the only car.”
Elspeth cursed softly and glared at her father while Briony comforted a screaming Ellairy. Then Daphne cursed louder.
“Dammit, she’s arresting! Help me! Lay her out level on that flat bit.”
Colin and Daphne gently eased Jean’s unconscious form to a flatter, level bit of verge and commenced resuscitation. Briony and Elspeth simply stared in horror and silently thanked God that Daphne and Colin seemed to know what they were doing.
Soon Sarah’s little ‘Panda’ Police Car arrived with a sergeant and control swiftly ensued while Colin and Daphne continued sharing the resuscitation until the welcome wail of the approaching ambulance signalled help. They loaded Jean into the ambulance and declared Newtown A&E as their preferred destination. That done, the legal ramifications followed and Edward Lewis was formally arrested. Eventually the sisters and Daphne were released to go to Newtown A&E. When they got there, the news was not good.
While falling from the blow, Jean’s head had struck the kerbstone and she had a hairline fracture to the back of her skull.
“We’re going to keep her in her coma for a week or so until the pressure on her brain eases.”
Both sisters exchanged horrified looks and fell into each other’s arms. Daphne did her best to comfort all four children until calm returned and the sisters set about phoning their siblings. The message to each brother or sister was more or less the same.
“Yes, she’s in a coma and Dad’s been arrested.”
It then remained for the three of them to decide how to share the vigil. Once again, Daphne turned up trumps by booking a hotel room at the local ‘Travel Lodge’ and then they decided on a roster comprising a day in Newtown while the other’s stayed at Plas Graig Las because it was the nearest house.
A week later, Jean was brought out of the coma and found to have some small speech impediment. Apparently the blow to the temple had done some small damage and the surgeons could only wait and see. The rest of Jean’s sons and daughters arrived and unanimously declared support for their mother. To a one, they all expressed their anger and frustrations with their father. Daphne was surprised and pleased to learn that they did not blame her for anything.
Daphne had secretly expected to be blamed for precipitating the situation but it seemed that every one of Jean’s children had endured the brow-beating and hectoring to the point of finally getting out, leaving home, escaping the oppression. Briony’s oldest brother put it best as he explained one afternoon to Daphne in the Mount inn in Llanidloes.
“We were all like refugees escaping to other countries. We were only thankful that Briony escaped as well. And as for that husband of hers, we’ll she’s well rid of him. They’re a bad lot, all the Davies boys.”
He paused to sip his pint and studied Daphne thoughtfully before plunging in clumsily. Daphne smiled inwardly, the man was not being abusive or intentionally rude he just needed answers.
“So Daphne; now, what about you? You function sexually as a man but you think of yourself as a woman, am I getting that right?”
Daphne frowned then smiled indulgently.
“That’s not entirely right, but it’s as close as makes little difference. Little difference that is if people don’t interfere. If you described me like that to your friends, I wouldn’t be offended.”
“I can’t say I understand it; I mean you look like a girl and an attractive one if you don’t mind me saying so. It’s complicated isn’t it?”
“Amen to that Brian. You’re right it is complicated.”
“Now this wedding; it’s true is it that you’re both getting married in bridal gowns.”
“Uuhhm ... yes. You’re not upset by that are you?”
“Well I won’t say I was enamoured of the idea at first but, well, the more I get to know you, the more it seems to be acceptable. I mean, here, now, in my old local pub, nobody seems to have noticed anything. A couple of my old pals have walked from the bar to the gents and they’ve all given me the eye. I can tell what they’re thinking. ‘Hey-up, Brian’s chatting to a smart piece. Wonder who she is?”
“Well thank you for the compliment but I must emphasise I am not available, I’m a one woman, woman. It’s Briony I’m engaged to.”
“Oh! Yes! Sorry, I wasn’t implying anything, honest. No nothing like that.” Brian reddened with embarrassment but Daphne set him at his ease.
“Yes. Briony said you were a decent man, that’s nice.”
“Well, thanks, I must confess I was worried at first when Briony told me but, well; you’re a nice bloke ... sorry, woman! You know she’s asked if I’ll give her away after the trouble with Dad don’t you.”
“Well actually, no, I didn’t. Are you happy to, I mean, I’ll be wearing a bridal gown identical to Briony’s.”
Brian grinned then replied.
“Well actually, I was worried you might be offended; you know, a man in a morning suite.”
“No. Not at all Brian. I’d be delighted if you gave her away. She’s been agonising over this since we decided to get married.
I’m just glad you’re okay with our wishes.”
“That’s a deal then. I get to give my younger sister away. I think mam‘ll be really pleased about that.”
“Adds a bit of normality does it?” Daphne grinned as she recognised Brian’s empathy.
Brtian reddened slightly as he spotted the potential for offence. He was glad that daphne had broached the issue first.
“Well, to be honest yes. It’ll calm mam’s nerves. It will also mean my daughters can be bride’s-maids.”
Daphne let out a snort of amusement.
“Ha! Ha-ha. Oh what a web dear Briony weaves! How old are they?”
“Charlotte’s fourteen, Samantha’s sixteen. They’re simply dying to be brides-maids at a gay wedding. Apparently, it’ll add huge kudos to their street-cred at school.”
“I hope they don’t think this is going to be a circus, it’s a solemn occasion for Briony and me.”
“Oh I’ll make sure they behave, anyway; once they’ve met you they’ll realise you’re not some sort of ‘Man-in-a-frock’ freak. I have to congratulate you girl; that is if you’ll let me. You’re a very attractive woman.”
Daphne felt a tear welling up as she struggled for words.
“Tha — thank you Brian. That’s the nicest thing you could have said. Thank you; I promise I’ll always look after your sister and her children.”
“Yes, I’m really glad about that. That lad was having a hell of a life. He worships you though.”
“Sion? Well, yes; I’d like to think so, but I think it’s the tractor and his horse.”
“No, it’s not just that, he really does worship you. My wife’s a psychiatrist and she’s been chatting to him. It’s Daphne this and Daphne that and Daphne all the time, truly, that lad loves you and that endears you to us, as a family that is. My wife was truly worried for the boy. My brothers are pleased too, if they’d had daughters who were old enough, they’d have wanted them to be brides-maids as well.”
“How old are they, and how many.”
“Edward’s girl is seven and Fred’s twins are ten.”
“So why d’you think they’re too young?” Daphne wondered.
“Well, and I hope you’re not offended by this, but we thought they might not understand, you know, the groom in a bridal gown.
They’re a bit young. What d’you think?”
Daphne wagged her head in amusement.
“Sion seems to manage and he was only eight when we met. He handles both Daphne and David with equal aplomb. He's actually watched while Dave changes into Daphne. Your daughters are unlikely to meet Dave because he lives mostly on the farm now.
Don’t misjudge your children Brian. Kids can be pretty adaptable. Besides, I don’t think your nieces will thank you for denying them the chance to wear pretty dresses. In my book every little girl is just bursting to be a brides-maid. I know I was.”
Brian exploded into laughter at this remark then as he recovered his composure he leant across and pressed his stubbly cheek against Daphne’s smooth one.
“Oh Daphne! You say the funniest things. That was a gem, and I bet you’re serious as well, weren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well then we must have a family gathering. I’m afraid you will be totally outnumbered. We are like a tribe. Our mum, three brothers, three daughters and their spouses; not to mention a whole host of children but you must meet your nieces to be. I think they’ll be both fascinated and enamoured by you. Could I suggest the Easter weekend.”
Daphne finally let the tears flow as she nodded agreement to the Easter weekend.
“I — I don’t know how to thank you Brian. After meeting your father, I was truly worried about the rest of the family. I’ve been totally wrong in my thoughts. I just don’t understand how you could have all turned out so nice. Was he truly a monster, your dad I mean?”
“He wasn’t very nice Daphne, and the girls got it worse than the boys. They were almost prisoners what with curfews and discipline.”
“Yes, that’s what Briony said. Well our children will be free to roam all over. But your smaller nieces will meet Dave if they stay at the house. I would love you to come to the farm for Easter. All of you that is, there’s plenty of room.”
Brian smiled victoriously.
“I was hoping you’d say that; and the way Briony talks about your house, the whole family are itching to see it. Well the girls are anyway. They always like to poke about other people’s houses.”
Daphne smiled knowingly.
“The 'Cooks tour' ... yeah. It’s a girly thing Brian; don’t even try to go there. It's all about nests and security, nests and security.”
Brian nodded thoughtfully and finished his pint.
“You're a lovely girl Daphne. I’m glad Briony’s had some good luck for a change. After her problems with dad and then Arfon, she deserves some good luck and that good luck is you. Come on, let’s meet the sisters, I’m glad we had this chat.”
They left the pub together and met the girls by the town-hall rooting through some stalls and the farmer’s market.
The sisters turned as one and were relieved to see Brian and Daphne laughing as they approached. Elspeth turned to Briony and her other sister Rachel as she grinned.
“First hurdle cleared I think girls. Let’s go back to mam’s.
Thus it was that Daphne acquired a de-facto family overnight. The rest of the winter was spent fine-tuning the wedding arrangements and organizing all the nieces as brides-maids. During the constant to-ing and fro-ing to Moira’s boutique, the nieces got to know Briony’s strange partner well. When they came down to Newtown piecemeal on different dates before Easter for fittings and arrangements, they stayed at Plas Graig Las and they got to know the house well. They also met Dave and each evening after he and Terry had finished work on the farm, Dave had to show each of families and particularly the younger girls how Dave changed into Daphne. This produced endless giggles at first until Daphne emerged in all her finery. Then the girls were gob-smacked.
Briony’s sisters and sisters-in-law could not wait for the Easter get-together.
It came shortly after the vernal equinox and the house rang to the sounds of the Lewis families as the children particularly, availed themselves of the several servants’ bedrooms on the second floor. The matriarch, Jean Lewis, had not ever had the luxury of having all her children and grand-children together at one time and the occasion brought her to tears on the Sunday afternoon when Daphne was there all day because Dave had no work on the farm.
The rest of the Lewis family had gone for a short walk before lunch with Blodwen as a guide while Rachel, Shirley and Joyce were helping Daphne prepare lunch. It was Daphne who discovered Jean sitting alone in the warm sun of the drawing room bay window as she wept softly with joy and wondered just how far towards the distant mountain of Plyn Limon that Daphne’s estate spread. Daphne was passing the open door as she returned from the cellar with some wine when she realised Jean was crying. Quietly, she put the bottles down and crept un-noticed into the drawing room to stand undetected behind the unsuspecting Jean. After a few uncertain moments, Daphne realised Jean was shedding joyful tears so she sidled up silently to ask her softly but suddenly.
“Penny for your thoughts Mrs Lewis?”
Jean span around in surprise then smiled as she met Daphne’s compassionate expression. Embarrassed slightly, she tried to swallow her emotions.
“Wha - !. Oh yes, I was just thinking. Briony’s a really lucky girl to have found you.”
Daphne grinned as she replied.
“Uuhm, I think you’ll find it was me that found Briony. She was the one stuck in the hedge. I’m the lucky one here.”
“How so? Briony’s got little to offer.”
“Oh come, come now Mrs Lewis. This is your own daughter you’re talking about! Briony’s got huge benefits to bring to our marriage.”
Jean sat more upright as she fixed Daphne with a steady eye.
“Go on, explain. What’s Briony got to offer?”
For a few moments Daphne was at a loss for words as she wondered how a mother could be so judgemental and critical of her own daughter. Finally Daphne gathered her thoughts and replied.
“What, d’you mean by ‘What’s Briony got to offer!’? By that, I presume you mean what has she got apart from me loving her dearly?”
Jean riposted.
“Love doesn’t hold a marriage together, Briony’s soiled goods; she’s already got two children and a broken marriage. She’s also very strong willed.”
Daphne drew her breath as she silently counted some of Briony’s contributions to the forthcoming wedding and union. She could hardly believe her ears so she listed the material factors.
“Well firstly she’s brought me a ready-made family complete with grandparents, aunties, uncles, in-laws and not to mention almost a dozen nephews and nieces. Please realise Jean, I’ve never had an extended family or any brothers and sisters. It's also a very nice family who treat Daphne very well. That counts in spades for me.
Secondly she brings a rare beauty. Well I think she’s beautiful and I’ve watched lots of other men’s eyes following her.
Thirdly she’s a lovely person and she brings me much joy. She’s kind and forgiving; well I find her so. Who else would be nice to a transgendered misfit like me?
Fourthly she’s a bloody good cook. D’you want me to go on?”
Jean fell silent then turned tearfully.
“I was just testing you. I do love her, I love all my children but Briony’s had a tough time. Thank you for finding her, thank you for giving her a second chance.”
Daphne bent down and gave Jean a hug.
“Thank you for having her. Without you she wouldn’t be here. Without her I’d still be a lonely bachelor living only for money and transgenderism.”
“But you were having a good life. Briony’s told me all about your wild other side. The clubbing and the club you own.”
“Yes. It was pleasurable; it still is pleasurable but a pleasure shared is a pleasure doubled.”
“You’ll look after her though won’t you. She’s told me about the shooting. I know they weren’t specifically aiming for you but I worry for her.”
“I can only do my best. She’s got my love, she’s got my protection and her children will inherit when I’m gone. Though that’s a long way off. I can give her no more.
“Thank you Daphne. It’s comfort to know she’s settled and happy. Ah. Here they are coming back.”
She pointed out of the bay window at the group accompanying Blodwen.
The Ram 39
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This chapter describes the births of the babies and the preparations for the wedding.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 39
Briony Davies Nee Lewis ... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Davies... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy... Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane... Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies... Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce... Blodwen’s Partner.
Moira... Bridal boutique owner Newtown
Edward Lewis... Briony’s father.
Jean Lewis... Briony’s mother.
Colin... Llanidloes police officer.
Sarah... Llanidloes Police woman.
Brian ... Briony’s oldest brother
Rachel ... Briony’s oldest sister
The Ram 39.
Daphne glanced out of the window and smiled. It was a joy to watch the group as the adults chatted animatedly while the younger ones raced around chasing each other or looking at specimens they’d collected from the remains of the old lead mine. The minerals in the rocks revealed a myriad different shades and some of the older girls were studying them with a view to making jewellery. She reached out her hand and rested it lightly on Jean’s shoulder and repeated what she’d said earlier.
“That’s what Briony brings me, a family; just look at them. Doesn’t it give you a thrill to think they’re nearly all from your womb or connected through marriage? That’s why Briony and I want to get married. Look at them.”
Jean grasped the hand on her shoulder then kissed it gently as more tears of joy started to flow. Daphne felt the moisture on her fingers and reached for the tissues on the small occasional table. She had no idea how the box had got there but it was uniquely convenient. Then she squealed.
“Oh heck! I’d better go and see how lunch is coming. That lot will be famished. Terry and John are doing the cooking, John’s an excellent cook.”
After many years of motherhood, Jean recognised the catering issues and released Daphne’s hand with a smile. The smile continued as she heard Daphne’s heels clicking purposefully down the hall to the kitchen. She dried her eyes then touched up her makeup as she heard her family crowding into the kitchen. She did a mental check and reckoned on twenty adults not to mention children for lunch.
‘Thank God the house could take it’, she thought then smiled again as she considered the circumstances. ‘Briony certainly is a lucky girl’.
With that the drawing room door burst open and her grandchildren erupted into the room to show her the spoils of their walk. It gave Jean a heart-filling delight to see them all chattering about the walk and the game of hide-and-seek they had played around the derelict mine. Then her children entered also chatting about the walk and Jean savoured the exquisite delight of family until Blodwen called from the dining room.
“Lunch is up, come and get it!”
Jean giggled and said to Briony.
“I feel there should be a butler with a gong to formally announce luncheon.”
Briony giggled and riposted. “Leave it there Mam; you’re doing the washing up,” as they filtered through into the dining room.
Daphne left Briony to bring order and soon everybody was seated at two tables ... adults and children. Daphne asked if anybody felt like saying grace but an embarrassed silence befell the room before mutual agreements averted the issue. Soon the room was ringing to chit-chat and laughter as various old family anecdotes were repeated and new ones reported. Daphne just sat grinning like Cheshire cat as she savoured the clamour of a full family lunch.
Briony caught her eye and smiled across the length of the table. ‘This was what the house needed; this was what the house was going to get!’ She mused as Daphne grinned stupidly back.
Eventually the lunch came to its end and the discussions returned to the drawing room and library while Terry and John cleared up the dishes. The children were led by Sion outside again while the family fell to discussing wedding plans in earnest. The issue of both bride and ‘groom’ wearing identical wedding gowns cause much amused comment but nearly all of it was positive. The only issue being that the groom would ‘Technically’ get a look at the bride’s gown before the big day.
Blodwen knew a female Vicar in Birmingham who was agreeable to the wedding because it was technically a ‘proper’ union between man and woman. Daphne didn’t have the heart to enlighten anybody about her being only partly a man and that in body only.
Technically, the law and the church recognised her as a man so there were no issues with the cannon law. Having the wedding in Birmingham would prove to be convenient and ‘cost effective’ because they could hold the reception in The Melancholy Pussy, Daphne’s own club which had its own function room at the back. (The one were the police were having a reception and party the night Daphne was shot.)
On the Easter bank-holiday Monday the family went on an excursion to study the Ospreys nesting at Glaslyn. The visitor centre was crowded because the success story was that the birds had laid some eggs and the warden thought it was two though there might be three by that evening. Sion was amazed that the birds were nesting so close to the railway line and close to civilisation. His Uncle explained that provided there was food enough and the many people did not disturb the birds or prove a threat, the birds would happily nest within sight of houses.
It was an excellent climax to the Easter weekend and the families departed content as they anticipated the arrival of Briony and Daphne’s twins.
o0o
During March April and May Daphne’s babies arrived, Blodwen’s daughter, Joyce’s son and Briony’s twins. Briony had already agreed to let Daphne share the mothering and to this end, Daphne had been taking hormones to promote lactation. She was leaking milk even before the twins arrived and in the evenings she couldn’t resist ‘testing’ her own milk for her boobs had grown enough that she could suck her own nipples. One evening Briony caught her doing it and scolded her in fun.
“Hey girl! You’re stealing my baby’s milk.”
Daphne grinned as she weighed her swollen boobs.
“Your babies aren’t even born yet. They’ll get their share when the time comes.”
“Did you save the first few milkings for the colostrums?”
“Of course. It’s in the deep freeze. If those two arrive on time, it’ll only be a couple of weeks old. Does Colostrum keep when deep frozen?”
“Dunno’” Briony replied, “we’d better ask the doctor at the next ante-natal.”
It appeared that the doctor’s opinion was uncertain and he advised them to ‘Suck it and see’. Both girls chuckled at the double entendre then resolved to test the frozen colostrum themselves when the twins arrived. This done the girls settled down to wait the last couple of weeks while Blodwen and Joyce became temporary house guests at Plas Las after the arrival of their babies. Daphne was glad that Terry was now au-fait with most of the farm’s functions and he only helped out if the job was a seriously ‘two-handed’ task.
Otherwise, Daphne served as ‘go-for’ and general factotum to the girls as the house became a de-facto nursery. She felt her boobs ache and tingle with anticipation so when Blodwen or Joyce were pre-occupied Daphne would sneak a little suckle of her older babies. Briony smiled and snuggled uncomfortably on the sofa as her bump became more and more oppressive. One afternoon as Terry brought Sion home off the school bus, Sion walked in on Daphne feeding Joyce’s newborn son ... Daphne's son, cos' she was the father.
“I didn’t know you could do that, I thought that was a mother’s job.” He declared excitedly.
“Well, this is a little lesson for you darling.” Daphne explained. “Nearly anybody with natural boobs can feed a baby if they take the right medicine.”
“Are they the same medicines that helped you to grow boobies?”
“Very similar Sion, they’re called hormones.”
“Can I see?”
“See what darling? This is all there is to see. Baby, booby ... booby, baby. Booby goes in baby’s mouth, baby sucks.”
"Can you squeeze it out like cows and sheep?”
“Yes, but that would make a mess and it’s a waste.”
“Can you show me, just this once?”
“No Sion, there are some things only married partners share and there are some things only a mummy and her baby can share. I’m not your mummy so it would be wrong for me to show you my nipples. I’ve never let you see me putting my bras and panties on have I?”
Sion mumbled ‘No’ and walked away somewhat disappointed to do his homework. Later he approached his own mother Briony and asked in front of the other mothers and Daphne.
“Can I try some of your milk after my brother and sister are born?”
Briony blushed and turned to Daphne.
“D’you think that’s right?”
Daphne shrugged and smiled. "He’s your baby Bri’ you could express some for him and let him drink it from a glass."
Sion turned and gaped.
“That’s how I meant! You don’t think I wanted to suck from mummy did you?”
Daphne saved Briony from further embarrassment for that’s exactly what Briony had thought. Daphne explained.
“Your question was a bit ambiguous Sion, none of us where certain what you meant. The glass idea is perfectly acceptable. Working mummies often express milk into a special container for the babies to drink later when they’re in the nursery. For now you’ll have to wait just a couple more days, your brother and sister are due to arrive soon.”
“How will we know?”
All the mothers smiled at this innocent question as even Daphne stifled a giggle.
“Don’t worry Sion; your mummy will know exactly when the babies have decided to come.”
“How.”
Briony took over the explanations.
“I will start to experience birth pains or labour pains and they will take me into hospital.”
“Pains? What pains mummy?”
“Having babies is very painful Sion. Mummies suffer a lot when they have their babies. The babies cause a lot of pain.”
Sion digested this then frowned.
“Did I cause you pain mummy?”
“Yes Sion, all babies cause pain.”
“Sorry mummy. I’ll try not to cause you any more pain.”
Briony extended her arms and invited Sion into an embrace. He hesitated and turned uncertainly to Daphne. Daphne smiled and nodded.
“Go on; give your mum a hug. She’s not made of glass, she won’t break or anything. Those are babies inside her womb not bombs.”
Reassured that squeezing his mother would cause no harm, Sion edged closer then wrapped his arms around his mother. The babies felt the pressure and kicked and Sion giggled appreciatively.
“They’re going to be footballers mummy.”
“What, you’re sister as well?” Briony smiled.
“Why not, the girls play football at school.”
Daphne caught Briony’s eye and smiled.
“Sign of the times darling.”
“And good times they are too,” Blodwen added. “I’d have liked to play football when I was there.”
“Oooh I wouldn’t!” Joyce declared.
Blodwen leant over and kissed her partner as she observed.
“No but you’re a really girly girl. Cheerleader would have been your thing.”
“They didn’t have those either.” Joyce lamented.
Daphne and Briony grinned. Both Blod and Joyce were very attractive lipstick lesbians and their opposite views of sport clearly demonstrated that gender and sexuality played no part in an individual’s sporting preferences. Daphne knew that Blodwen loved running and kicking a ball because all through their school days Blodwen had been a strong representative for the girl’s track and cross-country team. She still jogged to this day, while Joyce was usually to be found doing gym and floor exercises to improve flexibility and figure. Both girls were stunningly attractive and Daphne had thoroughly enjoyed assisting their maternal ambitions. Briony noticed Daphne staring thoughtfully at her two best friends and she nudged Daphne sharply.
“Oy! Get your eyes off them lady. You’re mine and don’t you forget it.”
Daphne shook her head and turned to smile.
“Sorry Bri. I was just reflecting on them. Yes, they are attractive, and I’d be lying to say I wasn’t attracted to them but it’s you I’ve chosen over them. That’s the biggest compliment I could pay you. Anyway, it’s a non-starter isn’t it?”
“Is it. You underestimate your own attractiveness girl. If I was a lesbian I’d be attracted to you.”
Daphne squawked with laughter.
“But you are attracted to me girl!”
“Yeah, but I’m attracted to a certain part of you that makes me hetero’” Other lesbians wouldn’t know about that vital little bit of difference. Both Blod and Joyce tell me if you’d been a macho, masculine sort of guy, they’d have been turned off. They could still fancy you so hands off! Okay?”
Daphne wagged her head with bemusement. Even after living her whole life as an intergender, it still bemused her to think of lesbians actually finding her attractive.
She bent down to kiss Briony and Briony sat up to meet Daphne’s lips. As she half rose from the chair she felt a pain and immediately recognised the onset of labour. She gave a grunt and gasped.
“I’ve started! Get the car. Blod, look after Sion and Ellairy.”
Her announcement set the wheels in motion and the maternity unit at Aberystwyth was alerted
Within the hour, they were ensconced in the Maternity unit at Brongwynlas Hospital and Daphne started phoning relatives. By the time Jean had organised transport and arrived from Llanidloes, Briony had delivered her twins. Dafydd (Welsh for David) after his dad and Victoria because Briony liked the name.
When Jean arrived, she found her daughter and future daughter/son-in-law doing fine and both babies were feeding at both their parent’s breasts. It was something of an eye-opener for all the staff at the baby-unit but Jean did not bat an eyelid. She had long been forewarned and knew what to expect. Transgendered parenting had finally arrived even in the deepest depths of ‘Chapel Wales’.
Within two days, Briony was back home and facing the social worker who arrived as part of the normal post-natal routine. At first she expressed reservations about a father breast-feeding her own children but Daphne had already anticipated these hurdles. She and Briony had their legal arguments prepared. Any objections by social workers would be deemed to have arisen out of a departmental transphobic perspective and that would be a clear breach of law. Within a month, the objections had been surmounted and the only concession Briony made to the social worker was for Daphne to agree to stop working with the animals for the first month to avoid any chance of infection from the live-stock. Even this concession irked Daphne as she pointed out to Briony.
“You shouldn’t have agreed to that. Provided I am clean and shower before feeding them it shouldn’t be a problem. The babies should be exposed to animals, it strengthens their immune systems. I was feeding lambs almost as soon as I could walk.”
Briony protested.
“You don’t know how much trouble Social workers can cause if they take against you. Just being married to Arfon attracted unwanted supervision and extra calls as they searched for any evidence of abuse because of his known propensity for violence. I only made the concession to get her off our backs. Besides, how is she to know if you’re working with the animals or not?”
“She could call unexpectedly.” Briony observed.
“Not if I lock the road gate to cars. She won’t walk down the lane because of the mud so she’ll have to phone and tell us she’s at the gate. If she asks why we’re locking it we can say there’s a rumour that Arfon’s been seen locally and you didn't want him turning up at the farmyard in his car. Just one more defence hurdle if he ever does turn up.
Eventually, the broo-ha with the SS calmed down and Briony settled down to the task of rearing her own twins and sharing in the rearing of Blodwen and Joyce’s babies. She was truly glad of her mother’s company and the intermittent presence of Blodwen and Joyce during the week as they shared duties at their architectural practice in Birmingham.
During those two months Briony was exercising and eagerly looking forward to fitting into her beautiful wedding gown. Two weeks before the wedding, she visited Moira’s boutique on the Monday morning and heaved a deep sigh of relief when she finally struggled into the sheath she had so set her heart on. Moira studied the dress thoughtfully and said.
“It’s a bit tight Bri, especially around your bust but that’s to be expected. Shall I let out the bust a trifle?”
Briony smiled. The bust issue gave her a warm motherly feeling as she savoured the thoughts of nurturing Daphne’s children then a thought struck her. ‘Daphne’s dress might need adjusting as well!’ She opened her mobile phone while Moira unpicked the stitches on the darts around her bust and explained the situation.
“Where are you Darling?” She asked.
“I’m in Mothercare with Blodwen, Joyce and all the children. What’s up?”
“I think you might need to come in.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
“There’s nothing wrong is there?”
“Oh no, nothing’s wrong it’s just well ... the gowns, you’ll see when you get here.”
Briony didn’t have long to wait as the commotion at the door announced the hurried arrival of the girls with their babies. Briony met them with a smile which wiped the worry of Daphne’s face.
“What’s wrong with them? The gowns, that is.”
“You’ll see, you’d better try yours on.”
Moira brought out Daphne’s gown and nodded to the changing cubicle as she turned to Briony.
“I presume there is no superstition about the bride seeing the groom’s gown is there?”
Briony and Daphne giggled as Briony replied.
“If there is, it’s a pretty new tradition, no of course not. They’re the same gowns.”
Moira nodded and instructed Daphne to change into the gown.
As Daphne slithered into her gown she eventually realised the problem.
“Flippin’ heck! My boobs have grown much more than my bra says. This is really tight up here. It’s too tight.”
She looked at Moira whose jaw was sagging with shock as she noticed Daphne’s nursing bra.
“I... that’s a nursing bra!”
Daphne looked down, cupped the breasts then smiled as she announced casually.
“Of course it is, I’m nursing!”
“What! You mean you ...”
“Yes, that’s what being a girl is all about isn’t it. I may not be able to have my babies but at least I can nurture them.”
“Oh my God! That explains everything.” Moira grinned. “Well spotted Bri.”
“What?” Daphne demanded.
Moira explained.
“Well nursing bras make extra allowances, the cups are adjustable as well as detachable. That’s why you’ve been misled about your increased bust size you’re a double D if not an E girl, just look at yourself. Your gown needs to have bigger darts as well. Take it off.”
Daphne slithered out of it as Moira sighed with relief and remarked.
“Well at least your bums and waists haven’t grown.”
“Yeah,” Daphne grinned, “do our bums look big in these?”
“No they don’t, from the back you both look stunning.”
“And the front?” Briony pressed.
“I’m going to have to do some modification to the décolletage. The pair of you look as though you’re the Milk bar girls. I mean that cleavage is just lewd. Don’t worry, the gowns will look every bit as lovely as they were before the boob thing. Come back on Wednesday. I’m used to these things but usually, these days it’s the belly that’s grown."
Both girls grinned knowingly as Moira put the gowns on their hangers and they left to do more shopping before going on to Birmingham to finalise the church and reception details.
On Wednesday afternoon, they returned to Moira’s and found the gowns to fit perfectly. Moira had been as good as her word and the gowns still worked as they originally intended. Daphne and Briony were beside themselves with excitement as they drove home.
The Ram 40.
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Coming close to the end of this story now, this might be the penultimate or 2nd penultimate chapter.
The Ram 40.
Briony Davies Nee Lewis ... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Davies... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy... Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane... Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies... Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce... Blodwen’s Partner.
Moira... Bridal boutique owner Newtown
Edward Lewis... Briony’s father.
Jean Lewis... Briony’s mother.
Colin... Llanidloes police officer.
Sarah... Llanidloes Police woman.
Brian Lewis... Briony’s oldest brother
Rachel ... Briony’s oldest sister
Charlotte & Samantha... Brian’s daughters (14 & 16)
Edward Lewis Jr... Briony’s middle brother.
Abigail... Edward’s daughter (7 yrs old). Briony’s niece
Fredric Lewis... Briony’s younger brother. Brothers older than the three sisters.
Stephanie and Samantha... Fred’s 10-yr-old twin daughters
Kaya... Elspeth’s only daughter (12 yrs-old)
The Ram 40.
The remaining days before the wedding were naturally spent in whirls of excited tension and nervousness. Unexpected problems would pop up and be frantically addressed by whosoever was able to deal with them. In this respect, Jean, Briony’s mother turned up trumps. She had been ‘mother of the bride’ on three different occasions and she proved to be an expert at circumventing or solving or just plain beating down any problems that came their way. It helped her enormously that Daphne was able to fund the whole event. For once Jean was able to truly savour her special role as ‘mother-of-the-bride’ without always looking to the cost. For this luxury, Jean was truly thankful and desperately fond of her new daughter/son-in-law.
Naturally, since having their babies David and Victoria; Daphne and Briony had abstained from conjugal relations. Firstly to give Briony a chance to recover from the births and secondly because both of them felt it would be nice to re-consummate their relationship like two virgins. Indeed, Briony even felt herself becoming a little coy on the eve of the big day. They had already been sleeping in different bedrooms since the arrival of the twins but that night as Daphne slipped beside her on the settee in the drawing room she giggled coquettishly.
“You can’t cuddle me. I want to feel like a virgin bride tomorrow tonight.”
Daphne gaped at her and protested mildly.
“But we’re already sleeping apart! Surely a little cuddle. You’ve got enough chaperones. I’m hardly likely to ravish you here on the settee, much though I’d love to.”
Briony pushed Daphne away, albeit half-heartedly and playfully but Daphne accepted the hint. Every girl liked to fantasize about their wedding night so the abstinence was a happy circumstance. Jean watched the cameo and felt an inner warmth towards the man/woman who had stolen her youngest daughter’s heart.
“Come and sit by me Daph. We’ve got lots to talk about.”
“If Daphne had been one hundred percent male he might have suggested that they were all ‘talked out’ but the larger, female part of her brain relished the opportunity for one more chat. And chat they did until Daphne and Briony had to share the evening feeding of David and Victoria. Finally, with their four breasts successfully emptied, they went to their separate beds.
At the crack of the summer dawn, just as the sun was peeping over the hills to the north east of Plas Graig Las, Blodwen and Joyce were banging on Daphne’s bedroom door while Jean and Shirley were rousing Briony.
"Come on you two, we’ve got to be in Birmingham at eight to get you prepared. Come on!"
Both bride and groom rose sleepily and showered before clambering into the cars and setting off. Terry and John bid them farewell and promised to attend the reception after they had tended the livestock.
As the sun rose, the excitement mounted and they met the rest of the family at 0745 outside the hotel where Briony and Daphne were to prepare and dress. Jean immediately took charge of proceedings and ordered both girls down to the salon.
“It’s first thing first ... hair and a make-over.” While Daphne and Briony savoured the luxury and pampering at the salon the bides-maids were taken off by Shirley and Briony’s older sister Rhiannon to another Salon and also had their hair done.
By ten o’clock Tara, Charlotte, Samantha, Stephanie, Samantha, Kaya (Elspeth’s daughter) Abigail and little Ellairy were dressed and ready and gathered in the hotel lounge were they received smiles of admiration from just about every woman resident passing through. Needless to say the girls were almost wetting themselves with excitement. Naturally, Briony’s older sisters Rhiannon and Elspeth were matrons of honour and tried to keep the excited bride’s maids in order. It proved to be an almost impossible task until Edward Jr and Fred took a hand and scolded the girls for misbehaving.
“This is not a circus!” Edward warned them. “It’s a very solemn occasion. How would you like your weddings to be ruined by honoured guests misbehaving?”
Finally the girls got the message. It was NOT some sort of gay freak show. It was a serious occasion. Finally Edward was a bit gentler with the girls.
“You can have your fun after the wedding, at the club when it’s open house to all Daphne’s friends. I’m sure you’ll meet some boys there if you want to dance and flirt and I know you older girls will!” He smiled particularly at Tara, Samantha and Charlotte.
Eventually Daphne and Briony appeared on the stairs in their wedding gowns Briony was on her brother, Brian’s arm while Daphne had her friend Rachel as a supporter. Rachel had chosen a beautiful, cream, silk, close-fitting cocktail dress with matching frilled bolero jacket. They descended the stairs and met everybody in the lounge until the cars arrived. Jean was relieved that everything went smoothly and most importantly, the day turned out bright, sunny and warm.
To Daphne’s mild surprise the church was full until the lady vicar explained.
“When it’s held in an Anglican church in England, the actual wedding is a public event Daphne, anybody can witness it. It’s public declaration of your vows. Daphne turned nervously to look at the gathering and she was relieved to see a sea of familiar faces. Nearly all of them regular patrons of The Melancholy Pussy club, but here and there a sprinkling of familiar faces from Wales in addition to invited guests.
Briony, Daphne and the lady Vicar had compiled a wedding service and run it by the bishop to confirm its validity. When the congregation heard the nature of the vows, there was a soft muttering of approval and for a brief moment, the vicar paused while people digested the contents. She then raised her hand for silence and resumed the service.
There was naturally a tense moment when the vicar required any person to declare any objections but none were forthcoming and the couple breathed a sigh of relief. To add further tension there was a brief noise at the back of the church but nothing came of it. Briony and Daphne did not even notice the disturbance or the cause of it until they were proceeding out of the church to the sound of the organ thundering out the wedding march. In their choices of music both girls had chosen to be traditional to avoid any further contention. This was now the occasion for the bride’s-maids to shine and they thoroughly indulged themselves as Daphne and Briony walked slowly down the aisle to stop and chat with friends and relations as they received congratulations.
It was not until they arrived at the end of the aisle that Daphne noticed the wary expressions on Fred and Edward Jr’s faces. Then a cold arrow lanced through Daphne’s heart as she recognised Edward Lewis Senior standing between them though strangely, he was not restrained. Daphne’s tension immediately translated itself to Briony who turned from chatting to her friends to discover the cause. As she recognised her father she also tensed nervously and turned around to catch her older brother’s attention. Brian had already noticed the impasse and quickly moved to confront his father.
The three brothers now had their father surrounded and the aisle was blocked. Daphne and Briony waited tensely as Brian demanded to know why their father was there.
“You’re not welcome here dad! You’ve made your feelings abundantly clear, what d’you want?”
“I wish to speak to my daughter ... and my daughter-in-law.”
The soft tone of his voice alerted Brian to his father’s mood; gone was the usual overbearing threatening manner. His reference to Daphne as his daughter-in-law also conveyed something different in his manner. Brian relaxed and glanced at his brothers.
“Has he caused you any trouble?”
Fred replied, “No bro. He’s stood here meek as a lamb. Anyway, he wouldn’t dare, we’d kill him.”
Edward nodded confirmation so Brian turned to the newly-weds.
“D’you want to talk to him? We three will watch him.”
Daphne looked at Briony who nodded cautious assent. She asked him.
“What d’you want Dad? You better hadn’t try to spoil our day. There are several police in the congregation who are my and Daphne’s friends.”
Edward Lewis senior hesitated then spoke slowly but clearly.
“I want to apologise.”
The tension changed to a stunned silence from all the Lewis brothers and sisters. Briony looked up into Daphne’s eyes with the unspoken question writ large. It was clear she was looking for Daphne’s lead. After recovering her composure (for she had been frightened,) Daphne asked the Lewis family’s father.
“To whom are you apologising and for what?”
Edward Lewis hesitated. He had been half expecting outright rejection. As he re-composed his answer in his head he stuttered.
“I ... well I want to ... to ... well for everything really to you and to Bri, and to Jean. And to the rest; I’ve been a twa-; I’ve been a fool ... and a bully. I’m sorry.”
Daphne tried to read the man’s eyes and noticed the slightest whisper of a tear.
‘Had anybody else noticed it?’ She wondered.
She turned behind her and asked softly.
“Does anybody have a tissue?”
About four hands flashed out with tissues and Daphne had to smile. The smile became infectious as the people around her thought Daphne wanted the tissue for herself. Then Briony realised what was afoot, her father needed the tissues but he was too proud and stubborn to realise it as he struggled to keep his composure. Briony took the proffered tissues from Daphne’s hand and reached behind her brother Brian to touch her father’s cheek. Brian turned in alarm at first until he realised what was happening.
Firstly, he relaxed but his manner immediately turned to fear as he saw his father almost crumple to the floor before Fred and Edward grabbed him to support him.
“Dad! Dad! Are you okay!?”
Edward Lewis Senior recovered his composure and the tension evaporated like escaping steam as Jean stumbled forward. Brian and his brothers helped their father to sit down in a pew and waited for him to recover as his wife and daughters fussed around him. Both bride and ‘groom’ bent down to offer their acceptance of his apology and the whole occasion resumed its joyous festive air. Eventually their father recovered and the organist pitched into the triumphant wedding march again with renewed gusto as the procession gained a doubly festive air.
They emerged into the sunshine to savour the delight of the day and the family quickly gathered around them. Lastly the two younger Lewis brothers assisted their father to join the photography session outside the church. He wasn’t in Morning dress as his sons were but Jean was more than happy to receive him on her arm and pose centre-stage with their daughter and daughter-in-law. He was stood unusually next to Daphne for the photographer was a bit confused about conventions in this new and to him, strange arrangement. Finally the main family shots were taken and the rest of the session was spent on assorted cameos of small groups and different functionaries. Daphne had not stinted on any item and for that Briony was forever grateful.
Finally they dispersed to The Melancholy Pussy where Billy and Janet had excelled themselves preparing the food and festivities.
When they sat down to the wedding feast Brian approached Briony and Daphne.
“Dad has asked to say a few words. How do you feel about it?”
“Will they be kind words?” Daphne asked.
“And not too long. Remember his monologues in Chapel.” Briony added.
Brian grinned and disappeared to speak to their father. He returned with a grin.
“He’s written down what he intends to say. I’ve read it and it seems okay ... very okay!”
Briony and Daphne gave each other a squeeze and agreed as Daphne spoke to Briony about her older brother.
“Brian’s still a bit cautious about your dad.”
“So am I darling.” Briony confirmed. “He’d better stick to the script.”
She glanced expectantly to her brother who nodded.
“He will,” Brian replied with a hard caution betraying his distrust of his father.
After the meal the speeches were made and Edward Lewis made his the last speech. It dwelt upon his remorse and his relearning and changing and all those qualities so essential to reconciliation, and it brought many tears of happiness and relief to the Lewis family. At the end of his speech his wife reached out to demonstrate the final filling of that desperate unfulfilled need that had lain within the bosom of the family for so many years.
Edward Lewis senior was true to his word, he had kept to the script; a script that presaged peace amongst the family and gave Daphne considerable peace of mind, a peace that also brought a lump to her throat for there was nobody from her family that could respond in like manner. Edward lewis sensed this and after finishing his speech, he stepped to his side and gave Daphne an especially poignant hug. Then, when they stood up from the table, Daphne only had a brief dance with Briony when she found Edward Lewis tapping her on the shoulder and apologising to Briony as he asked.
“Can I have a quiet word please?”
Daphne turned inquisitively to Briony who nodded consent. Then Daphne replied to Edward Lewis.
“How quiet and how private?” (She still felt a bit nervous around him.)
“Well, perhaps outside on the patio, I promise you no harm, people can see us but the conversation has to be private.”
Daphne nodded agreement then spoke to Briony.
“Tell Brian where I am and to watch us through the patio glass doors.”
With this arrangement set in place, Daphne followed the older man onto the patio. There she stood with her back close to the patio doors to facilitate a quick return to the party if there was any possible threat. As she closed the doors behind her, Edward Lewis stood by the stone balustrade and turned. He spoke softly.
“Firstly I want to re-emphasise that my apology is sincere. I’ve learned a lot about you and your kind of people since those first misunderstandings. I always thought it was a choice thing, it’s not is it?”
Daphne heaved a silent sigh of relief before answering.
“No, it’s not Mr Lewis, and thank you for conceding that; but that’s not what you wanted to talk about is it?”
“No, I just wanted to set the record straight and tell you again that I’ve realised I was mistaken.”
Daphne was slightly perplexed for she could not see where Mr Lewis was going with this conversation.
“So who helped you see the light? Who managed to get through to you?”
Edward Lewis stared thoughtfully at Daphne and wagged his head.
“You don’t get it do you?”
Daphne frowned partly from confusion and partly from uncertainty.
“Well ... no I don’t. What are you driving at?”
“What?" Gasped Edward Lewis. "Are you trying to tell me you’ve no idea; you’ve no idea who helped me see my way?”
Daphne was still puzzled.
“No. Honestly; no I don’t.”
“It’s you, you silly girl! You’ve done it. I realised you are just the person for my dear daughter. She always was the kindest, the most gentle, the most caring one. She needs a kindly caring husband ... no, that’s not right, a kindly caring partner; that’s it a partner, a partner she can trust, a partner not out to screw her out of her inheritance.”
Daphne was even more confused.
“Inheritance! What inheritance? I can assure you, if you think ...”
“No Daphne, I can assure you! I don’t think that your trying to screw anybody out of anything, I don’t think you’re trying to cheat her of her inheritance.”
“Inheritance. I didn’t know anything about an inheritance. Now listen Mr Lewis, I met Briony completely by accident ... I don’t know where this is going but I don’t know anything about any inheritance!”
“There’s no need to get upset Daphne. I know you’re not after anybody’s money. I know now, you’re wealthy in your own right, what’s more, a lot of it has been by dint of sheer hard work. I work for the bank in Newtown and I found out all about your account. I know how parlous the state of the farm was when your dad died. You performed a remarkable feat turning the enterprise around, especially for one so young. And then there’s this place, the club, The Melancholy Pussy ... Nice name by the way, nice business as well. Well done! I know now that you are a genuinely hard working individual. You’re not some sort of hysterical, mincing, effete parasite. For that I salute you and respect you. Briony’s been really lucky meeting you and I’m glad for her.
The thing is; this inheritance is only due to Briony, the other children don’t get anything, my mother left it to her in her will because she was her favourite. Frankly, it's bit of a time bomb and I don't see a solution. having at last made some reconciliation with my family, I desperately want to avoid this inheritance business breaking the family up again.”
Daphne was about to protest such a move but Edward raised his hands apologetically.
“I know! I know, don’t blame me; I had nothing to do with my mother’s will. Yes, you’re right it’s not fair to the others but I can’t do a thing about it. It’s what mother wanted and it was as clear as a bell in the will. My mother loved Briony and for some reason, made her the sole benefactor of her estate. Bloody unfair to the others I know, but that’s how it is.”
Daphne fell silent in thought for several moments before she observed.
“Hang on. Briony’s well over twenty one. Why hasn’t she inherited already?”
“The terms of will Daph’. My mother only died two years ago and she already knew about the problems between Arfon and Briony. Briony doesn’t her her hands on the estate until she’s thirty, or a year after she divorces Arfon. My mother was a pretty shrewd old lady. I think she could see their break-up coming.”
“That obvious was it?” Daphne asked.
“Yes. To my mother.” Mr Lewis replied.
“Well Briony’s well out of it. I’m sure you know the story.”
“I do, and thank you for looking after her. The inheritance comes through just before Christmas.”
Daphne nodded then thought again.
“Does Briony know about her inheritance?”
“No. Nobody but I and my dead mother’s solicitors know.”
“Are you going to tell her?”
“Yes, but not here, not now. I’m frightened about how the others will take it.”
Daphne nodded. She could think of several ways to circumvent the hurt the others would feel but she didn’t think it was her part to interfere..
"Well I'm sorry Edward; May I call you Edward? But I'm not sure how I can help. Once Briony knows about it, I'll do my utmost to avert contention in the family but until then, there's not a lot I can do."
Edward Lewis nodded despondently, until the year's grace was run, there was little anybody could do, but at least he now had two heads looking for a solution and his new daughter-in-law had proved she was no fool with figures, while being unconnected to the will.
With the conversation finished they left the Patio and Daphne resumed Dancing with Briony.
As they danced again Briony asked her new partner.
"What did Dad want?"
Daphne wagged her head apologetically.
"I'm sorry Bri, I cant say. Lets just say your dad got a weight of his chest but for now I cannot tell you. Please don't ask again, I'll be able to tell you more in about six months or so. That's all I can say."
Briony looked deep into Daphne's eyes and noted the concern. She decided not to push for anything more and Daphne was grateful for that.
The Ram 41.
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This is the last Chapter.
The Welsh Mountain Ram 41.
Briony Davies Nee Lewis ... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Davies... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy... Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane... Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies... Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce... Blodwen’s Partner.
Moira... Bridal boutique owner Newtown
Edward Lewis... Briony’s father.
Jean Lewis... Briony’s mother.
Colin... Llanidloes police officer.
Sarah... Llanidloes Police woman.
Brian Lewis... Briony’s oldest brother
Rachel ... Briony’s oldest sister
Charlotte & Samantha Brian’s daughters (14 & 16)
Edward Lewis Jr Briony’s middle brother.
Abigail Edward’s daughter (7 yrs old). Briony’s niece
Fredric Lewis Briony’s younger brother. Brothers older than the three sisters.
Stephanie and Samantha Fred’s 10-yr-old twin daughters
Kaya Elspeth’s only daughter (12 yrs-old)
David & Victoria Daphne and Briony’s twins.
The Ram 41. Last Chapter.
As the evening wore on, the reception became ever livelier as more and more of The Melancholy Pussy’s regular members kept pouring into the club. Instead of closing the doors, Billy and Janet had anticipated the numbers. They had secretly applied for a one-night street trading licence and after some bargaining with the licensing magistrates, they had managed to organise he village into a party venue. Two marquees had been erected and the newly-weds were more or less compelled to circulate around the street as well as the club. Easily recognisable in their bridal gowns, the whole gay community took them to their hearts as countless friends and acquaintances reached out to congratulate them. Briony found it hard to credit that so many people knew Daphne but she soon learned of it. Time and again while they were circulating amongst the crowd, some complete stranger would come up to Briony to congratulate her on winning Daphne’s heart. The comments were invariably in a similar vein and dwelling on a familiar theme,
‘You’ve got a good partner there girl! Look after her cos’ she’s got a heart of gold. I remember when she ...’ And then would follow some tale of a good turn done or a helping hand reached out sometime in the past by Daphne as she made her own way up the ladder to success. The more Briony heard, the more she realised what a gem she’d inadvertently found. ‘Or had found her’ ... she corrected herself.
By midnight the bridal pair were exhausted and they were forced to retreat to the office of The Melancholy Pussy for a hard earned rest. Both girls had been on their heels from eleven that morning until midnight and their feet were screaming for relief. They slumped into the arm chairs only to be accosted by Fajita the maid seconded to them from the hotel.
“Your babies! They need feed! They no sleep. Too much noise!”
Briony and Daphne exchanged shattered looks as they sighed resignedly. Daphne heard herself protesting but even as she spoke her inner voice was telling her.
‘Listen girl, a few months ago you were dreaming every moment of every day about being able to feed your babies from your own breasts. You can’t avoid it now just cos’ you’re tired. Tits out Daphne; do your duty!’
With a sigh she turned her back to Briony.
“Can you unzip me and unclip this bloody bra; it’s been crushing me like a flippin Anaconda since about six o’clock as my boobs filled up with milk.”
“Snap!” Briony replied. “You do the same for me.”
“I do it! My job!” Fajita interrupted even as she was attending Briony’s gown.
Briony sighed with relief as her boobs spilled out and Fajita turned to help Daphne. As Daphne’s boobs flopped out Fajita smiled at her.
“You lovely girl! Very kind, very good! Plenty milk!”
“Flattery will get you everywhere Fajita. I have to get out of this bra and gown though, the bra’s a killer.”
“Have we got nursing bras handy?” Briony wondered aloud.
Daphne nodded towards the packed suite-cases set aside for the honeymoon.
“They’re in there. Jean packed them for us last night.”
“I get them!” Fajita offered as the brides each picked up a baby and attended to their motherly duties.
After finishing the feeding, the brides made one more round of the gay village then announced on the tannoy system that they were exhausted and going to bed. A raucous cheer erupted from the crowds accompanied by the inevitable lewd suggestions but the bridal pair ignored them. There were always some that would not know when to stay within the boundaries.
The pair emerged from the rear doors of The Melancholy Pussy and sneaked away in an anonymous, nondescript little car to avoid attracting attention. They made it to the hotel to finally collapse on their bed. Neither of them were fit for any nuptials and within seconds of hitting the pillow and cuddling up, they were snoring away.
The late morning sun was streaming through the windows when the demanding cries of David and Victoria broke through to Daphne and Briony’s consciousness. As Daphne stirred reluctantly, her movement disturbed Briony who protested sleepily.
“Ooooh, are those two hungry again?”
“Fraaiii-id so,” Daphne yawned as she stretched her arms upwards and milk spurted onto the duvet. “Shit! Why did I start this? I’m like a bloody dairy cow!”
Briony sniffed and grimaced at the smell of nappy.
“Your turn for the honours. Better change them first.”
Daphne groaned and stumbled to the crib where the twins were staring up and demanding to be fed.
“First thing first you noisy buggers. Let’s get you changed.”
“You might as well bath them as well.”
“What? In milk! Look at this!”
Briony watched another spurt eject from Daphne’s breasts and she grinned.
“We’ll have to enter you for the Royal Welsh Agricultural Show! ... Dairy section!”
“Watchit’ partner, unless you want a face full!”
Briony giggled and watched Daphne heft the twins ‘one in each arm’ and disappear into the en-suite. She lay idly on the pillow listening to Daphne playing with the twins and the chortling that told of their delighted responses. Then silence fell and she realised she had to do her share at least and help to feed them. She crept into the separate looe and relieved herself before joining her family in the en-suite. Daphne looked up and grinned guiltily as Briony noted a twin at each breast.
“I’ll bet your enjoying that aren’t you?”
Daphne smiled.
“Mmmmm! A dream come true. I may not be able to bear them but everything else ... well!”
She looked down to emphasise her words until Briony extended her arms and Daphne reluctantly surrendered David off her left nipple.
“I was enjoying that.”
Briony grinned as she latched David onto her breast and settled beside her husband.
“Have you still got much left?” She asked him.
“Mooooooooooo is the answer to that,” Daphne lowed.
They both chuckled briefly but their convulsions disturbed the babies and they were forced to abate their fun. They shared and swapped the twins so as to keep them accustomed to sharing and to bring them up to realised there were no favourites. Eventually they heard Fajita enter and she called to them.
“You’d better be get ready. Ship, she leave Southampton tonight and it’s nearly one o’clock.”
Reluctantly they finished feeding the twins and eventually joined the rest of the wedding party to commence their honeymoon-cum-holiday. Daphne studied the large group and grinned.
“Some honeymoon this.”
Shirley reminded her.
“Don’t knock it. All these brides-maids are dead keen to come and they all know they have to share the caring of the young-uns’.
That’s the deal. Five weeks Mediterranean cruise but they have to look after the babes. You and Briony are on your honeymoon, it’s what you deserve! Besides, Fajita is really keen to come and the hotel has given her leave for six weeks. She’s more than keen to help share in looking after Dave and Vicky.”
~o0o~
With all the adults and youngsters it took three minibuses to carry everybody and the luggage down to Southampton. The journey was free of any interruptions and they arrived in plenty of time to be well settled in as the huge cruise ship gently eased itself clear of the quay. The first day was spent at sea as the ship sped over the summer smooth Atlantic then they arrived in Lisbon to savour a two day run ashore to visit the sights. Daphne grinned to herself as she watched the bride’s-maids already going ashore with some talent they had found in the night club. She turned to Briony and smiled as they locked the cabin and clambered into a pre-booked mini-bus with the rest of the adults. She noticed the little ones were absent and Rachel confirmed they were safe in the ship’s crá¨che.
“I’m going to enjoy this honeymoon,” she grinned to Briony as the mini-bus sped away.
And thus the voyage passed in a helter-skelter whirl of ports and sea passages.
~o0o~
The last day of August found them returning home because the younger ones had to return to School in the September. Daphne, Briony, Blodwen and Joyce returned with their children to Plas Graig Las after making their farewells with Shirley and Briony’s families at Birmingham. They arrived in the late afternoon to be met by a grim faced Terry.
“Bad news I’m afraid. Arfon’s been seen locally.”
“Oh hell!” Daphne cursed. “Haven’t the police collared him yet?”
“He’s clever and the police believe his brothers are helping him to avoid arrest.”
Daphne pulled a sour expression of understanding.
“But they can’t prove anything of course.”
Terry nodded as Daphne continued.
“And the plod are too short handed to mount a proper surveillance operation.”
“That’s about the size of it. The superintendant was up here a week ago to advise you to take extra precautions. We’re very remote up here and the house is vulnerable.”
“Did he confiscate the guns?”
“Uhhm, no, he never mentioned them, well not to me anyway.”
Daphne wasn’t sure what to make of the gun thing. She wondered if it had been a genuine oversight by the police superintendant or if he had deliberately avoided the issue because he knew Arfon was known to use guns. Daphne decided to alert everybody. After bringing everybody up to speed on the situation Briony pointed out the weakest flaw.
“If he tries to kidnap Sion again, it’ll most likely be at school or travelling to and from.”
Daphne nodded. This had crossed her mind as well. They would have to take Sion to and from school themselves every day.
“What if he’s armed?” Briony wondered nervously.
Daphne had no answer. She was certainly not allowed to carry guns legally. The best she could do was to keep a radio connection open between the car and the house and fit more CCTV cameras in the cars and around the house, inside and out.; A mood of depression and fear settled on the house and it refused to be shifted. Every day Daphne called the police for news and although Sergeant Davies proved to be extra helpful, there was no news to pass. It seemed Arfon had secreted himself well and would appear only when he was good and ready. Everybody agreed, he had returned to the area for one purpose only; what he saw as ‘unfinished business’.
The autumn passed tensely for the friends. Every day, as Daphne or Briony shared the school run they would tense nervously and over-react to the slightest incident that seemed out of the norm. Even meeting an unrecognised car on the narrow mountain road could cause Briony or Daphne to tense nervously until the potential danger had passed. Slowly but surely, the tension was grinding the pair down. They became irritable with one another and this transposed itself onto the children. After the autumn came and went winter set its grip on the mountain pastureland but this actually served to bring them some relief from the tension. If anybody was stalking the house they would be hard put to approach from any other direction but the lane because of the snow that renewed itself almost weekly. It was not deep snow but it was enough to evince tracks of any intruder. A walk around the house each morning served to reassure, Daphne, Briony Blodwen and Joyce that nobody had approached during the night. Many times the group of friends fell to wondering if they were being paranoid but Briony remained convinced that Arfon would show.
Her suspicions were finally confirmed the following April at the beginning of the mountain lambing season. A phone call from Sergeant Davies confirmed that Arfon had been seen in Machynlleth asking about Briony’s new partner. Apparently somebody in the White Lion had asked somebody else where David Cadwalloder lived and then passed the information to somebody else sitting in the darkest corner. It was only when the barman heard the question being asked around that he remembered the previous kidnapping incident and the recent local events. As soon as the bar-man realised, he had surreptitiously phoned Jack Davies the Station Sergeant. Unfortunately, by the time Jack had arrived. The apparent stranger had slipped away. When the visitors were asked to describe the person, the description matched Arfon. Jack had no option but to warn the friends at Plas Craig Las. Daphne answered the phone.
“So he’s still looking for us.”
“Seems like it Dave.”
“You might as well call me Daphne Jack. I’m virtually full time now.”
“I did hear that. The head-mistress at Sion’s school mentioned that you pick him up whilst dressed as a woman now. Doesn’t that cause problems for him?”
“Not this year I pass pretty well as a woman and most of the mothers knew me as a man so they tend to be sympathetic provided I don’t get too near their children. That hurts but it’s the price I have to pay. Next year bullying might be a problem. He moves up to High school.”
“Will my services be called upon?”
“Only if there’s a problem with bullying. I’m more concerned with the immediate situation concerning Arfon. He’s a very violent man.”
“You don’t have to tell me Daphne. My colleagues in Llanidloes have given me all the dirt. I’m worried now. It won’t be long before he works out exactly where you live.”
“Things are coming to a head. Have you no idea where he might be hiding out?”
“No. The whole family’s rotten to the core. I’m convinced they know where he is but we need proof.”
Daphne cursed silently. ‘Proof, proof’ proof.’ The police were hamstrung for lack of proof!’ After replacing the phone she turned to find Briony standing in the doorway.
“He’s still out there isn’t he?”
For a moment Daphne debated confirming Briony’s observation but she realised it was futile. She nodded despondently and Briony’s eyes teared up as she cursed.
“How come these bloody police can’t find him? I mean everybody in Llanidloes knows what he looks like.”
Daphne wagged her head.
“He avoids Llanidloes. That was Jack from Machynlleth. He was asking around in the White Lion.”
“Can’t they do anything? The police that is.”
“He said he’s going to put new posters up with Arfon’s picture. The old ones are all faded and virtually useless. We’ll just have to take extra precautions. Problem is, now the Lambing season’s upon us, Terry and I are going to be doubly busy. I won’t be able to help much with the school run for a few weeks.”
“D’you think he’ll try another kidnap?”
“There’s no knowing what he’ll do. We’ll just have to be doubly careful.”
Briony started to tear up again and Daphne reached out to comfort her.
“Try not to worry love. Once he shows up, somebody’s bound to recognise him. Everybody know about him in Machynlleth.”
“Yeah. But he still managed to confirm about you. It won’t take him long to find out where you live.”
Daphne shrugged. There was nothing she could do to reassure Briony. They went to bed that night locked in a tight embrace. Every little noise caused Briony to tense nervously and that tension translated to Daphne. Neither of them slept well.
The following morning, Terry escorted Briony to the farm gate by the road, while Daphne prepared for the first flock check. This involved walking quietly amongst the sheep so as not to disturb them while lambing but it involved a lot of footwork all over the moors. Daphne had not mentioned it to Briony but it meant she would be alone with the dogs, Laddie, Lassie and Jenny. Terry, being a professional full time shepherd, had his own dogs. The plan was to spread out about a quarter of a mile apart and then walk the moor slowly. It was the only way to be certain that no sheep were in difficulties. Terry took the high ridge while Daphne checked the lower escarpment because she knew the mountain better after having lived on the moors all her life. Daphne knew where the sheep would hole up for shelter whilst birthing. At times she and Terry would be out of sight but they had the radios for keeping contact.
It was about eleven when she heard the sound of a trail bike racing along the paths through the heather on the high bluff. Occasionally bike riders went up there under the misapprehension that it was ‘common land’ because the moors were unfenced and only isolated from the lower pastures by cattle grids on the road. Daphne cursed for there was little she could do. She did not have her beloved mare with her because Angel would tend to frighten the sheep by her very presence. Lambing patrols were best conducted on foot. Then she saw the motorcyclist approach Terry and stop. It was some distance away and she had no idea what was being said but when the motorcyclist turned his bike around and started towards the escarpment, Daphne’s radio crackled into life. It was Terry with an urgent warning.
“It’s fucking Arfon. He was checking me out but when he realised I wasn’t you he just turned around and sped away again. He’s
coming down your side by the long stone wall. He’s checking your side of the ridge. He’s looking for you.”
Daphne cursed as fear took hold and she asked Terry.
“Did you see anything that looked like a gun?”
“No. But he’s wearing motorcycle clothes; he could be hiding a bazooka under those bulky leathers.”
Daphne cursed again as her mind raced to find a solution. The only thing she could think of was to get the dogs to round up some sheep and make them form a flock around her. The trouble was, her whistles would alert Arfon and if she waited until Arfon saw her, she’d have no time to form a flock around her. Between the Devil and the deep, she decided to order the dogs away and round up as many sheep as she could. For several minutes she saw or heard no reaction. The noise of Arfon’s trail bike was obviously drowning out the sound of Daphne’s whistling but inevitably as Arfon came closer he saw the sheep flocking and the dogs working them. It was obvious to Arfon that somewhere there was another shepherd nearby and that shepherd was most probably Arfon’s pray ...
Daphne.
He gunned the trail bike towards a break in the wall and burst amongst the milling sheep to cause pandemonium as they tried to scatter. Arfon revved the engine and screamed at the sheep loud enough for them to form a closed space around him as the three dogs, Laddie, Lassie and Jenny struggled hard to hold the ring. The pool of space moved with Arfon as he forced his way towards his prey with a sickening glint of victory glittering in his eyes. When he got close enough he dismounted from the bike and stepped forward to savour his capture of Daphne.
“Now you sick perverted bitch! You’re going to get yours. Briony’s mine.”
Daphne didn’t bother answering. She was more concerned with the gun that Arfon had revealed under his leathers. It was a pistol for which Daphne was grateful. Had it been a shotgun there would have been little hope of avoiding the spread of buckshot but Daphne knew a bit about guns. Pistols were notoriously inaccurate.
Daphne cast about to try and put some distance between her and Arfon for he was still surrounded by panicking sheep that were being hemmed in ever tighter by the dogs. She cursed silently as she realised she was now being forced to step back up onto a flat rock and beyond that she would have to step further back towards the edge of the escarpment. Behind her there was a drop of about thirty feet and there was no escape. The sheep were now milling around at the foot of the small rock and Arfon was cursing as they bumped against him in their panic. He brought the gun up to take aim but the milling sheep kept hitting his legs so he could not take aim.
In a rage he fired a bullet at one of the sheep but this served only to cause greater panic. The sheep started to jump in an effort to avoid the obvious danger but the dogs were still crowding them into a denser and denser flock. They were obeying the last set of whistled commands Daphne had given them ... come in, come in, come in! As they locked eyes with the lead sheep Daphne looked behind her and swallowed with fear. There was nowhere to go but down.
Arfon tried another shot but it whizzed past Daphne’s shoulder and she screamed in fright. Now she was beginning to panic. She whistled another order to the dogs to close with the sheep in the hope of setting up a maelstrom of wool and hooves but her effort only served to make Arfon more determined. He could not force his way towards the rock where Daphne cowered but he thought he saw a way through to the side. As he stepped to the side, the sheep altered direction momentarily but it gave Arfon a chance to steady his legs and took aim.
Daphne saw him point the gun and dived to the side but the bullet caught her in the buttocks. She screamed in terror as the force jerked her sideways and took her over the back of the rock to first roll down the steep grassy slope and then plunge the remaining twenty feet before slamming against another steep pitch and slithering sideways to come to a violent halt amongst the jagged rocks.
Arfon gave a howl of victory and rushed towards the edge of the cliff where he saw Daphne’s body lying still and crumpled some sixty feet directly below. With a roar of delight he took careful aim and fired again but the noise of his gun for the third time caused pandemonium amidst the confined flock. Such was the intensity of Arfon’s rage he failed to pay attention to the woollen holocaust behind him. A large Wiltshire ram erupted from the packed flock and leapt in panic towards the cliff. In its blind attempt to escape it crashed head-first into Arfon’s back causing both Man and Ram to go plunging over the cliff. Arfon let out a scream of despair before his body crashed onto the rocks fifty feet below and rolled lifelessly for the last ten feet to land on Daphne.
By now Terry had come in sight after having heard the shots and he quickly took control of Daphne’s faithful dogs. They ceased corralling the sheep and Terry was able to pick his way towards the edge of the cliff until he saw the dreadful scene below.
With a curse of despair, he dashed along the escarpment until he found a way down and he desperately picked his way back to the accident.
He cursed as he struggled to remove the dead ram for under the ram lay Arfon’s lifeless body and under that lay Daphne’s.
The end.