CHAPTER 2
I felt my world wobble for a moment, before Keith simply tugged at my sleeve.

“Come in and sit down, Mike. I’ll talk you through it. Not what it sounds like”

I was lost. How could it not… Penny? Gone? They were joined at the bloody hip, for god’s sake. He towed me into the living room, pushing me down into one of the armchairs, then disappearing into the kitchen for a few seconds before returning with a couple of bottles of Shefford Old Strong and a pair of glasses. I found myself on autopilot as I used the bottle opener that lived on my key ring, poured and sipped.

“Penny”

“Um, yeah. Was after the last climbing trip. Not what you’ll be thinking”

“What will I be thinking, Keith?”

“That she’s fucked off. Am I right?”

“Well, yeah! Of course I am! Talk straight just this once”

He settled himself into the other armchair, staring at the mantlepiece for a moment, where their wedding photo stood.

“It was that last trip, mate. We met someone”

I must have twitched, because he was suddenly waving a hand in denial.

“No, not like that. Someone that let us see a bit more clearly. Mike, can I be rude?”

“You often are, so why change?”

He sat looking down at his cup for a few seconds before raising his eyes again.

“You and Carolyn. Did you, you know, did you want? Kids?”

Hit me where it hurts, mate. Thanks.

“I think you know the answer to that one”

“Sorry, but… Penny’s the same”

“I always knew that, Keith. Just had to watch the way she was around other people’s children. I assume you saw the same thing I did, being closer to things”

He sipped his beer before nodding.

“Yeah, exactly. What she said, mate, a bit soppy”

“I get that. She can be right soft for such a strong woman”

“Yeah, that’s the whole thing. Something we talked through when we first, you know, realised it was a serious thing. The two of us. Together”

“And? What was this thing, this person you met?”

“Ah, long story, not really the point here. Just someone we met who had been through… No. Someone who was just starting to come out of a shitty place. Pen, she has a chat with me afterwards, sets out her thoughts on stuff. Mike, be honest: what do you think of the blokes I work with?”

“Honestly?”

“Please”

“Bunch of arseholes, self-selected. Anyone who has half a brain cell gets out of there as soon as--- sorry. Not thinking”

Another, longer swallow of his ale, then a twisted smile.

“That is sort of Pen’s thing, mate. Her point, if you will. She said I was getting infected, was becoming someone different to the man she married. That she loved”

He blinked rapidly, clearly fighting tears, so I looked down at my lap to give him a chance to settle again. Once the silence had gone on long enough, I asked the obvious question.

“What exactly has she said, then? And done?”

That twisted smile once more.

“Packed up and left. Left Luton, that is. Not me. Not yet. She says… She is sorting out somewhere for us to live, somewhere better than this shithole, finding a job as well. Once she’s sorted, then, well, that’s her ultimatum. I join her, or that’s it for us. Says the man she married will make the right choice, and if I don’t, well, I’m not that man. She’s renting a place for now, looking for a proper job. Actually running a till in a supermarket for the moment”

I stared at him for another long moment as I gathered my thoughts.

“Who is paying her rent, mate?”

“Joint account, Mike. Me, I suppose”

“You’ve decided, haven’t you?”

“Of course I bloody have. She’s right, isn’t she? I mean, my temper, my tolerance, all draining away. Self-control, I mean, and sometimes, when I can, I have moments where I sort of stand outside, listen to myself, and it’s not good. I hear Derek and Simes there, instead of my own voice”

Another swallow, another wry smile.

“Sorry, mate, but not really in a pub mood tonight”

My own smile felt better than his had looked.

“Understood. How many bottles you got in?”

“More than enough! Fancy a walk to the chippy in a bit?”

“Fine by me. If you don’t mind, though, bit of info? Knowing you two, her idea of a decent place would be somewhere with Scenery. Lumpy bits. Peak, Scotland or Wales?”

“Um, Snowdonia. Hence that stuff over there”

He pointed at a small pile of books on the dining table, the thickest being something called ‘Y Geiriadur Mawr’. There were also boxes of cassettes.

“You really going for it? Language and all?”

“Yup. Pen’s idea, really. Got both her ‘teacher’ and ‘respect-the-locals’ heads on. If we settle there, it’s a Welsh-speaking area, and she wants our kid to fit in”

“You’re really… she’s really planning ahead”

“Yup. You know Pen: once she decides on a course of action, then it gets done. I am sort of spinning in her slipstream. She’s right, though. Fitting in will be important for our kid, and the language will be the key”

I couldn’t argue with that one, so I moved the conversation on, waving an arm at the room.

“And this place?”

“Going on the market next week. Estate agent’s already been round for a rough valuation. I have a sort of plan about work”

He told me, and I nearly snorted up my beer. We had pie and chips, and more beer, and I made my own plan to invest in popcorn.

Work was getting busier as the weather warmed up, and my own house-hunting finally bore fruit in a reasonable terraced place in Crookes, to the West of Sheffield. Cellar, three bedrooms courtesy of an extension to the rear, and a reasonably quick drive out to Stanage and the other nice bits. If I took my time, I’d even be able to cycle to North Leas rather than drive. Even closer was Rivelin, so I had more than enough to keep me happy.

I knew one or two of Keith’s colleagues as a legacy of my own period of servitude there, and I made sure I earwigged every so often, just in case someone had picked up on Keith and Penny’s plan, but there was nothing in the mill that came anywhere near me. I had managed to get my deposit down on the Crookes place, and as my employer was actually paying for the move, I was more than relaxed about selling my place in Luton.

We had stopped our Sundon pub trips, as they would never be the same without Penny, but the walk across the fields to Cockernhoe and the King Billy still drew us every so often, especially as we were unlikely to run into any of our acquaintances there, for most of them were more attracted to the lager palaces in the town centre, with the attendant joys of Jimmy’s Kebabs or the multiple late-night curry houses. Those evenings let us refine our strategy.

Keith had picked up on my use of that word, but I shut his objections down.

“Here’s the plan, as I see it, mate. Pen’s got that flat, am I right? In Bangor? One bedroom?”

“Yeah. Told you that lots of times”

“So where are you going to store your stuff? Not in a one-bed place, that’s for sure”

“She’s looking for a self-store place, or a shed somewhere. Garage”

“Well, been thinking. I’ve had an acceptance from the people in Sheffield, for my offer. My people… I’m on a bridging loan, mate, and work is paying for it. I can take my time selling this place. My offer is simple: you shuffle your bits and pieces over to mine once I’ve cleared it of my own stuff. I can doss on your bed for a while, until you get a new place sorted properly”

He stared at me for a few seconds, then shook his head.

“Pen was right about me”

“What do you mean?”

“I was just about to ask if you were serious, why would you do that sort of thing, all that sort of shit, and then I realised I was thinking like the people I work with, not like me”

He took a mouthful of beer, swallowed, and smiled at me.

“Be nice getting back to myself, mate. Thank you. That will really help. And there’s news, about a new place. Think we’ve found it, and it’s more than we were hoping for. Not just a house, but a business. Going concern”

“Really? You sure? Not the same, working for yourself. What sort of business?”

“Terraced house, three bed, usual extension out the back to give us that extra. Bit like that place you’re buying, just without a cellar. Business is a bunkhouse”

“Risky, Keith”

“Ah, Penny’s found a berth as well, at the University. Doing TEFL and admin. Er, teaching English as a foreign language”

He snorted, as his thoughts caught up with his words.

“Which it bloody well is, going on what I heard when I was up there last. Remember Bethesda?”

I nodded.

“Bloody insular, that place”

“Yeah, but this house is up in Gerlan. Bit of a hippy colony, by all accounts. Once I’ve washed off Derek and Simes, we should fit right in. And there’s a folk club. In a pub”

“All necessities on hand, then?”

“Married no stupid woman, mate! Be good…”

I realised his eyes were a little moist, and he reached out to squeeze my hand, then grinned.

“No, not like that, me. Just feeling like a trap’s finally opening. Would have said cage, but this place, it’s worse than that. Right. When are we moving your own shit? And no arguments about that---we do it together”

“Not going to turn down an offer like that, as long as it goes for both loads. And if you are going to have a bunkhouse, I might just feel a need to test my waterproofs again. I know what the weather’s like over there”

I got the keys to my new place a fortnight later, and drove up with Keith to meet the removals van outside it. The men were efficient, my stuff left where it was, packed away in boxes, as Keith and I returned to Luton down the M1 the next day, and his own stuff went over to my old house a lot less efficiently in a hired box van.

Two weeks after that, he exchanged contracts with the new owner of what had been a home for him and Penny. When I asked how he felt about that, he simply grinned and shook his head.

“Shelter, mate, not home! This town will never, ever be that, and certainly not after next week. I have my departure planned, and the resignation letter written”

“What are you doing about notice?”

He shrugged.

“I worked out I have enough Time Off in Lieu of overtime, and unused annual leave, to, well, it’s more than the notice period they require. Once I give him the letter, I’m gone”

“Busiest time of the year, mate. Whichever one’s in charge of his head, they’ll go spare”

Keith sat back in his chair, grinning, my old mate shining through again.

“Well, what I say is, every silver lining’s got a silver lining! Another pint?”

CHAPTER 3
I managed to spin out my own house sale for two months, which rather pissed off the estate agents I had entrusted with my former home. They did know that I was covered by a bridging loan that was being paid by someone else, but they still wanted their percentage as soon as they could get it into the bank. In the end, I was up in Sheffield, Keith and Penny’s furniture in my old place, and a warm spot in my heart from what I had heard about my friend’s leave-taking.

I had managed to sort a last evening out in the Nickel Bag with some of my former colleagues, who were now by definition also Keith’s, and most definitely ‘former’, Andy Sellers and Ray Davenport. Andy, a rail-thin chain-smoker, was almost giggling over the departure.

“Yeah, so we had fucking Simes on, miserable fucker, and he’s been, they’ve both been, closing down the summer leave lists, all apart from the Sarahs, of course”

I shook my head, puzzled, and he grinned.

“Sorry. After your time, they are, pair of girls, and I mean girls, not that old, yeah, and he’s… Drooling after both of them, but we can’t work out which one Derek fancies, which one’s Simes’ little wank target, or if they’re both feeling the lust, equal opportunities shit. Where was I?”

I shrugged. By then, we were all on the downslope from ‘refreshed’ to ‘blotto’, and I was starting to find an alternate timescale.

“Leave lists, I think”

“Yeah. Right. So he’s been on one cause so many people have sodded off in the last year, and in goes Keefy Boy, and Johnny Trigg, he’s earwigging, and Keefy plonks this letter down on Simes’ desk, lets the cunt read it, and then, as he snarls out some shit about notice period, it’s ‘Got enough TOIL and annual leave bye-bye’, dumps his ID and keys and shit on top of it and walks out”

Ray almost spat out his mouthful of beer.

“Fuck yeah! I was on a late shift that day. Keith was gone when I got in, but Simes was still in full target-acquisition mode. Tried to pick a fight with Tom Sinclair—remember him?”

“The big Glaswegian sod?”

“The very one! Told Simes that if he ever spoke to him like that again, he’d be on hospital rations. Was magic! Just got one question, Mike. Well, two”

“They are?”

“How long’s he been planning this, and where’s he gone?”

I shook my head, smiling as I did so to ease the reply.

“Second question is simply ‘somewhere worth living”

Andy laughed, ruefully.

“Not fucking Luton, then. Knowing him, it’ll be somewhere lumpy”

“Not difficult to guess, really. As for the other question, long enough to make sure he really, really pissed off Derek and Simes”

Ray’s turn to laugh.

“That worked well, then! You coming down the Studio after this, Mike? Students are back. Be loads of gash there”

“Ah, not really my thing. Got loads to do with my own move, anyway”

The two men went on a tag-team effort about my own lost one, but as it was mostly tied to the easy availability of drunk students, I did my best to rune it out until they had both buggered off. I was still tender from Keith’s unintentionally barbed remark about their house being a shelter rather than a home, and that raw spot would always be there, because our house had always been a home, right up to her end. If it hadn’t been for the joint efforts of MacMillan and Marie Curie nurses, I would almost certainly have folded and joined Carolyn.

Leaving the house for my trip to Sheffield didn’t actually mean that final departure, of course, for it was still being used by people I loved, even if only as a repository for their stuff, but ‘final’ was how it felt.

Sod it. Lock the door, turn round, don’t look back. Crank up the bike, and sod those rear-view mirrors. Wind sting, not emotion, that was what pulled the tears from me.

It had always been a shared joke among the four of us that the one good thing about Luton was how easy it was to leave. Work through the town until I hit Waller Avenue, then past the washing machine factory, right at the lights and a short run to the M1 junction and a steady run north. I could do it on autopilot, almost, only really surfacing at the junction with the M6, and again at Junction 29, with muttered reminders to myself that I was going neither to North Wales nor to the Peak.

Some hours later, I pulled up outside the new place, easing the bike onto its centre stand on the little bit of hard standing under my new living room window, and starting the process of bringing a house to life. I stood for a while as the immersion heater started its job of giving me enough water before shaking my head.

Still light, still dry; I hauled off my leathers, changing into my old Fawcett rock pants, threw my older rock boots into a rucksack, and got back on the bike.

Burbage North gave me enough scope for an evening’s soloing, the sun warming the rock nicely, and I finished off with a solo of Amazon Crack, the jams solid enough to make me smile, while the grade was high enough to force me to stay in sharp focus. I finished off sitting on a block near the start of the path, as an older couple walked hand-in-hand down the lower path. A lovely evening, in so many ways, but. Always a but.

The new job was a challenge, in ways that were so close to my feelings on Amazon Crack. I knew I could do it, I was confident in the moves, but the difference between a solo and a lead was paralleled in the work, as I was no longer following someone else’s guidance in completing a task, but setting my own. I was deep in some issue regarding accounting protocols for the recycling of waste cooking oils when there was a cough at my shoulder.

“Mngff?”

“Hi. Mike, isn’t it?”

“Er, yeah. Sorry. Miles away”

“Pretty obviously! Seen what time it is?”

“Um—shit! Sorry. Best get this lot put away, mate”

“Cool”

“Pardon? “

“No, ‘Kul’. Short for Kulwinder”

I took his hand, then grinned as I caught on.

“You do that deliberately, don’t you? To every new chum?”

He shrugged, doing his best to look innocent, but still grinning through his beard.

“Don’t know what you mean! Anyway, a few of us are off to the bar down the road. They do good mocktails, if you prefer”

“What on Earth is one of them?”

“Cocktail, just without the boozohol”

“Ah! How many?”

“Usually six or seven. Gives us a chance to unwind before heading back to the soom beaus and hoom beaus”

That is what it sounded like, but je laughed again before explaining.

“Rider Haggard, filtered through a former colleague who was Welsh. She or He Who Must Be Obeyed. You married, er, Mike?”

“Er, sort of sore point. Widowed”

“Of shit. Sorry!”

“Oh, don’t be, Kul. Getting used to it, really. Part of why I made the break. Anyway, get these books locked up, and offski? How far?”

“Oh, about two, three hundred yards. You won’t need the bike”

It was actually quite fun, seven of us ending up sharing a pile of bags of crisps, before I succumbed to what the landlord, who was certainly not from Sheffield, called a ‘pie floater’, consisting of a meat pie on a pile of mushy peas. Kul was shaking his head, while one of the women, Betty, made a comment about food groups.

“Got everything there in terms of what a man needs, Mike. Lard, grease, fat, burnt crispy bits and stuff to make you fart. All it’s missing is the alcohol”

“Well, I AM on the waste cooking fat account! Getting a sort of hands--- I mean, tongues-on experience”

“Hmmm. Which end of the office do you sit at, and do the windows open?”

I found myself laughing happily, for the first time since I had waved goodbye to Keith, and Betty simply grinned back.

“Where are you from, Mike?”

“Originally from Sussex, but I moved from there a long time ago”

“Where to?”

“Place I don’t want to name. Speak of the Devil, sort of thing, or the p-word in cycling. Let’s just say it is north of London, starts with an ‘L’ and rhymes with Boot On”

Kul reached out to pat my shoulder, clearly in Manly Sympathy.

“I was once there, on my way from somewhere to visit family in Leicester, and I had to change trains. Some things were not meant to be borne by mortal men. Or, sorry Bets, women. But what’s the cycling p-word?”

“Ah, rhymes with ‘juncture’. Caused by faeries, that’s ‘F-A-E’, with sharp teeth and claws. Say the p-word, and they descend and wreak havoc, or at least holes. Need propitiating, or whatever the word is. Dancing widdershins round a willow, naked, allegedly”

The evening continued like that, before people started slipping away to their own homes, SWMBOs or HWMBOs, and I sat with a proper pint before making my own move. It was my first full confirmation that I had, most definitely, made the right choice.

It set a pattern that I found more than comfortable, as it wasn’t so much a mirror of the atmosphere in Luton as a sort of photo-negative. In Luton, people went from work straight to the pub, where they fought their taste buds to get their bodies outside as much alcohol as they could, as quickly as possible. Their humour was all points-scoring rather than actual jokes, and my new colleagues were so, so different.

I had mentally slapped myself when that thought first hit me, for, in reality, I hardly knew these people; not yet, anyway.

I found a new direction a month later, when a letter arrived from Keith: they had actually got the property they had been looking at, and the final chapter in the life I had shared with Carolyn was coming to an end. I rang him from work the next day, and that was when the reality of our lives started throwing stones and spanners at our plans.

I had just put the phone down after speaking to Keith, when I realised Kul was at my shoulder again.

“Problems?”

“Sort of”

“Anything I could help with?”

“Doubt it. It’s a house move. My old place, well, a mate has his stuff stored there, and it needs moving”

“You not sold it yet?”

“Will do, once his stuff’s out”

“Let me guess: he can’t afford a removal company?”

“Spot on. And he’s just taken on a new business; no chance of getting time off. I’m going to hire a wagon, but, well. House full of furniture”

“Right… When are you doing this?”

“This coming weekend”

“Could you pass me the phone?”

That Friday, after pulling in some favours that seemed to be given freely rather than Luton-style, I drove from Luton to Bethesda, Keith and Penny’s stuff piled in the van I had hired, Kul and his sixteen-year-old son beside me on the bench seat.

Definitely better than Luton.

CHAPTER 4
I knew Bethesda reasonably well, at least in a strip-map sense. I had ridden through it countless times, often stopped in one or more of the pubs, and replenished my longer-term food stocks from the little supermarket and my shorter-term ones from the chip shop or Chinese takeaway. What I had never done was to move any meaningful distance from the high street, so working through the narrower lanes up to the new chez Hiatt was a bit of a puzzle. I found it, in the end, a typical mining town terrace with a narrow front, some distance up the increasingly steep side of the valley. I gave a tap to the horn, and Penny was first out of the house, wrapping herself round me as I stepped down from the rather appropriately named Luton box-van’s driving seat.

“So good to see you, love!”

I grinned back at her.

“Does your being here to say hello mean what I think it does?”

“Yup! He’s sorting the kettle. Who’re these two new chums?”

I stepped back, one arm still around her waist, and waved at Dad and Lad, but before I could say anything, Kul cracked His One Joke. I gave him a mock glare.

“He does that to everyone, I am told. New colleague Kulwinder, his son Dal. I said I was running this lot up, and Kul offered. I assumed that, you know, you’d have space, what with taking on a bunkhouse”

She laughed out loud, pulling away to lead us into the house.

“How long are you all staying?”

“Oh, Kul and I negotiated Monday off, and Dal’s just finished his O-levels, so we have no rush”

“Well, this is going to sound pushy, then, but if we make a start on stuff tonight…”

I finished the sentence for her.

“We will have two full days for the hills?”

She stopped in her tracks, frowning slightly.

“I’m really sorry, Kul, but we’re being rude. Making assumptions. All three of us are outdoors types, climbers. I’m making plans, but I don’t know if that’s your sort of thing. Exercise and high places”

Dal laughed in an utterly open way.

“Mrs Hiatt, I do 400 metre running, and done loads of Duke of Edinburgh stuff. That was all around home, though. Do you know the Dark Peak?”

It was Penny’s turn to bark out a laugh.

“Er, just a bit. What about your Dad?”

“Dad? Oh, he’s all old and fat, but if you have a pub we can leave him in, he’ll be fine, as long as he doesn’t wander off”

Kul was snorting as well.

“Trained the lad well, I have! Penny, me and the lad did the Pennine Way together two years ago. That an adequate answer? And did you mention tea?”

Another laugh from Pen, and we entered the house, where I found myself hugging my old friend for the first time in what felt like far too long. Introductions made, tea consumed, and in a remarkably short time, five of us had the van emptied and furniture stowed. Dal and Pen swapped repeated references to a certain brand of tea and their chimpanzee-starring adverts, which even had Keith giggling, and then, as we stood panting, Kul asked the obvious question.

“You got a local yet? Hint! And do they do food?”

Pen looked across at Keith, eyebrows raised.

“Don’t want to make any more assumptions, love, but we’ve been okay so far. Kul, we have, and what you need to know is that Mike and us two share a lot of interests. No, Dal. Not that way. You have trained him far too well, my friend”

Kul mock-bowed, and raised his own eyebrows back in turn, so Penny spilled the beans.

“Yes, the pub we now treat as our local does food, and, well, it’s a club night tonight. As in folk music”

Dal turned a lot more serious.

“This like guitars and fiddles and stuff?”

“Yes, and singing. Got a guest on tonight, sings about the Royal Navy. Amazing voice. If that’s not your thing, there’s another couple of pubs”

Pen’s description caught my attention.

“Cyril?”

“The very same”

“What’s he doing all the way up here?”

“Well, we are sort of getting our feet under the table here. Improving our Welsh seems to be making a real difference. Now, anyone feel they need a shower? We’ll set you up in the bunkhouse first, and there’s three cubicles there”

The sun was dropping towards the other side of the valley as we ambled down the steep little hill to the High Street once more, and a pub called the Spotted Cow. There was a mixed clientele, including some obvious tourists, but I was pleased to see that the majority appeared to be locals. Keith nodded to a man sitting at the bar, then to the barman.

“Illtyd, Owen, [something incomprehensible]”

The man at the bar repeated what sounded like the same thing back, emphasising one word, and Keith nodded.

“Ah. Diolch, mate. [Something else incomprehensible] Mike, Kul, a Dal”

The man, Illtyd, held out his hand for a shake.

“You the lads bringing their furniture up, from that place he never wants naming? My round, Keith. You’ll be wanting to order food, ah?”

One thing I did know was the beer, so it was a simple choice, Dal’s age apparently being ignored by the barman as he was served a pint of cooking lager, and with a nod from Illtyd, we joined the other two. The menu was pretty standard pub grub, and, when the club got going, it was pretty much everything I expected. The main act was as good as ever, and I noticed no sign of resentment from the locals as they willingly sang away in the choruses of songs written by a man from Gosport. The only thing that irked me slightly was one of the floor spots. He was a fiddler, incredibly talented at what he did, but absolutely pissed as a newt, and lacking the slightest hint of a smile, or even conversation beyond ordering his net pint, in Welsh. He was gone before the club finished, the place seeming rather better lit after he went, almost as of he carried his own personal dark cloud with him.

Yes, we did get chips to eat on the way back up the hill to the new place, Penny deep in refreshed conversation with Kul’s boy, who was, to my astonishment, actually considering the Navy as a career.

“Yeah, Mrs Hiatt, those songs, he must really be singing from life”

“Penny, son. And how many pints have you had?”

Kul called over, “Four. I moved him to shandy after that. What did you think of the music, son?”

“Live stuff, Dad. Different to recordings, aye? Were a mixed lot, though. Couple of the singers, well, I should have had some more beer for them, but that fiddler, he was amazing”

Keith called over in his turn.

“Steve Jones, apparently. Climber. Cycles over from Betws or up from Bangor, camps, climbs, always gets wrecked. Word is he’s only ever here on a club night; goes over to Capel Curig other nights”

I held up a hand.

“Speaking of climbing, what’s the plan?”

Dal was softly singing ‘Sally, free and easy’ as Keith considered, then chuckled.

“See what this lad’s head is like tomorrow, then I think we can look at Y Garn north ridge and Idwal loop. Go up the ridge, come down the Kitchen. Cuppa off Dennis, and maybe the bright lights, big city not of Bangor for the evening. Fancy a go at some climbing, Kul? We’ve got a really easy beginner’s crag up the road. Take a picnic, relax in the sun if you prefer”

Kul watched his boy stumble slightly.

“Yup. Save the climbing stuff till laddo here is back on dry land. It’s ‘call away the daighsoe’, not ‘mice oh’, son!”

We had sleeping bags and blankets, there was a big padded sleeping platform at the bunkhouse, along with a well-stocked kitchen area for the breakfast we shared as a party of five, and the sun was still with us even on the tops, fair-weather cumulus scudding across the sky, and both my newer friends delighted when Pen announced that yes, it was indeed downhill all the way from the summit of Y Garn. I realised we had hooked both lads when we got the standard request to spend just a little bit more time on the peak, coupled with serial binocular-hogging and incessant clicking of camera shutters.

Wind was curling up and over the cliff edge that ended the broad sweep of the rear of that mountain, bringing with it the pure joy that comes from a lovely day at height, and Pen was chatting away to the younger man about all the other peaks that could be seen around us, until we arrived at the Dog Lake to pick up the path over to the Kitchen. It’s a descent that can appear frightening at first, as you appear to be walking directly towards a vertical cliff, which you are, until the broad shelf slanting down to the left becomes visible. We took the east side of Llyn Idwal for symmetry, and paused below the slabs so that Pen and Keith could call off and name climbing routes. The place was busy, as was only to be expected on such a gorgeous day, and while Keith was talking through the full list of UK climbing grades, and how they worked, Kul was scanning the rock with the binoculars.

“How high is this place, Mike?”

“Ah… see that ledge up there, where there are loads of people? That’s the top of the proper climbing, and then there’s easy scrambling up to the start of the descent path. About four hundred feet to that ledge, another three hundred to the path down”

“Right… so everything up to that ledge is proper climbing, including that sticky-out bit over there?”

“Where?”

“Over there on the edge. With what looks like a big rock sitting on top”

“That’s the top of Tennis Shoe, the hard bit. Round that edge is Suicide Wall”

“Right. Well, there’s somebody climbing it, and I can’t see any rope or that”

“Rope might be out of sight”

“Aye, but there’s no belt, harness thing to tie it to”

“Could I have a look?”

“Here”

I took the bins from him, and looked up at Tennis Shoe’s horribly polished and exposed ‘perched boulder’ finish, and swore under my breath as I recognised the clearly solo climber.

“That pisshead from last night, isn’t it?”

Kul nodded.

“Aye, I believe so. Steve something? Booze he put away last night, he wouldn’t be safe to drive, never mind this shit. I think we should wait here a while, till we see him safe on the path you mentioned. Then we’re off”

He sat down on a boulder, and gave me a weak smile.

“Wouldn’t feel right going off without knowing he’s down safe. On the other hand, don’t want to see him going back up, and having to worry all over again”

I let the Hiatts know, and we sat together until Keith spotted a pony-tailed figure partway down the descent path, and we packed up and left, doing our best to convince ourselves he wasn’t simply going to go back up again, still solo.

CHAPTER 5
We were back down the Cow that evening, as I vetoed a trip to Bangor to avoid dumping ‘designated driver’ on someone’s shoulders. It obviously wasn’t a club night, so I had much more opportunity to speak to the locals. We were joined at our table around nine o’clock by a couple that looked to be around the same age as myself, who were introduced as Vic and Nancy Edwards, although I found out later that the spelling was not what I assumed. Keith said Foreign-Not-really Things to them, before turning to the rest of us with a smile.

“Mike, one of our older friends, his mate Kul, and his son Dal. They are the ones who brought the rest of our stuff up from That Place We Don’t Name”

Nansi (I was learning) snorted out a laugh.

“Mike, does Keith always talk in Capital Letters?”

She put on a portentous tone for the last two words, Dal giggling away as I shrugged.

“There is no other way to talk about it, Nansi. It really is that bad. Definitely the right move by these two”

She nodded.

“Penny explained all that when she first moved over this way. This place can have, does have, a bit of a reputation, but that town just sounds, well, [something Welsh]”

“Sorry? Bit non-Welsh, me”

Vic put down his pint.

“Twll o le, Mike. Dump. Literally means a hole of a place, and with what we’ve heard about that place you boys worked at, well, good move by these two. You’ve moved as well?”

“Yup. Sheffield now. That’s where I met these two”

“Why Sheffield?”

I looked at Kul, wondering if I would upset him or not by talking down his town, but I caught the twinkle before I spoke.

“Ah, it has one of the same advantages as a certain other place, and that is that it is easy to get away from”

I left that barb for a second, before adding the rest of my reasons.

“The main thing for me, though, was the rock. I’m a climber as well, like these two, but I’m not exactly built for delicate footwork”

Keith muttered “He’s a thug”, and I nodded.

“Yup. That’s a gritstone term for someone who does things more by brute force than subtlety, shut up you three. Lots of hand jams, that sort of thing. Not balance stuff. Going to let Dal and Kul have a go at some easy bits tomorrow, up the Valley. Little Tryfan”

Vic nodded.

“School goes up there for their outdoor stuff”

Kul looked at his boy, raising an eyebrow, and Dal took the hint.

“Aye, we go out to Stanage a lot, or at least my school does. I don’t do PE anymore, but it’s nice to do a run along the top. Lots of grouse on the Moor, makes it interesting”

I mock-scowled at him.

“I thought you two said you hadn’t done any climbing before?”

The lad’s grin was as evil as his father’s worst.

“Yeah, but Dad hasn’t, and this way I get to embarrass the old man”

Nansi’s laugh was absolutely genuine.

“Pen, were you all separated at birth, or what?2

My friend shook her head, expression a lot more serious.

“Not really, Nansi. I think it’s sort of like release from prison, getting Keith away from that office, that town. You react, you open up. People see that”

Kul held up a hand, ready to add his own snippet.

“Aye, and that was the thing when Mike first joined us, me and my colleagues. Like, I dunno… like one of those self-lofting mats they sell now. Undo the valve, and they slowly unroll, open out. Just got to do the valve up again, otherwise they go flat as soon as you sit on them. Sorry; bit metaphor too far sort of thing”

Keith was shaking his head.

“No, Kul. That’s spot on. Going to strain it some more, but that was where I worked. Pen saw it better than I did, but taking what you said, it would either have been a valve failure, go all flat like the bastards I was working with, or just go bang. Burst. This place, we are sort of inflated just right, valve shut tight so we can stay that way”

The man called Illtyd had clearly been earwigging, as he set his pint on the table and pulled over another chair.

“Keep popping into the chippy, Mr Hiatt, and you will end up very over-inflated indeed! When are you three boys off, then?”

Kul smiled at him, clearly amused by Illtyd’s casual assumption of a welcome at our table.

“Ah, a day out tomorrow, then it’s set off for Sheffield late afternoon. Two of us are working on Monday, while this one is at college. A-levels on the way”

“Ah? You got a plan, boy? Career choice?”

“I am looking at the Navy, Mister. One of the tech branches, not just a seaman, that is”

Illtyd raised an eyebrow.

“Go on? And no ‘Mister’ for me, ah? Just Illtyd will do”

“Don’t know if I can say that properly… Anyway, if I get the right grades, there’s an Officer route that gets me a degree, and what I would like, well, helicopter pilot”

Illtyd laughed.

“Not being nasty there, boy. I just like your style: no low level of ambition in you. You’ll have to come back here with your uniform on if you make it. Now, who wants a drink?”

I was sober enough to drive the next day, but we were a little late getting to the crag, the Hiatts following us in their car so that the three Sheffield-bound could get straight onto the road after our fun and games. We spent a couple of hours messing about on the slab itself before moving round the bottom to push Dad and Lad up Curving Corner. Kul really struggled, while Dal cruised the whole thing, sneakily having let his father have the first go. There is one short problem there that allows for a proper hand jam, so rare in the Valley, and I used that to demonstrate exactly what we meant by ‘thugging’, before it was time for us to finish the last bits of our picnic, hug, and go our separate ways.

I sat in the van for a few minutes after the Hiatts had driven off, setting the weekend into context, before Kul coughed.

“Mike? Can I say something about your mates?”

“As long as it’s either nice or funny, mate”

“Don’t know if it’s either, but here goes. Keith’s almost broken, isn’t he? Not broken all the way through, but close to it”

I found myself nodding.

“Yeah. Now you see why I did what I could for them. The furniture and that was a help, but I just wish it could have been more”

“It was more, Mike. Two of you, together, and that Penny’s one formidable woman, like a lifebuoy, you two. I had a chat with that Illtyd bloke, at the bar. He says the same, and there’s more. Penny came over first, he said, and Dal, just between us three, okay? Yes, before you say anything, I know you can keep your gob shut, but this is deep stuff. Anyway, what their mate says, he was going to chat her up when she first came, and I get the impression he’s like that all the time, and then he realises she’s trying to use Welsh, so she’s not just a tourist, and he takes a sort of randiness step back. He was very clear about that bit. What did he mean about a ‘reputation’ for that town?”

I got the van rolling before I replied, choosing my words as carefully as I could.

“Bethesda is a very, very Welsh town. Not known for its welcoming attitude to outsiders, but that bit where Keith and Penny live, Gerlan, is called a hippy colony. The ‘bad reputation’ isn’t just about hostility, but about inbreeding. That’s what he was on about”

“Incest?”

“Yup. Not true, but it’s very much a local joke. Like any isolated place, really”

Kul laughed out loud.

“Or anywhere in Norfolk?”

I couldn’t help my grin.

“I’ll give you that one!”

“Indeed. Anyway, what the man was saying was that he’s watched your friends, and they’re doing their best to fit in, which is earning real brownie points with the locals, and he just wanted to let me know that their backs are covered. He said there are always one or two dickheads that come in to the town for an evening, and they sometimes needed a slap”

He paused again.

“Fallen on their feet, your mates have. Nice to see. Now, want to let me know when you want to switch drivers?”

It wasn’t a short drive back to Sheffield, but it wasn’t as long as others I had done, and with Dal’s help we made good time, leaving the van at the hire centre after I had dropped Dad and Lad off so that he could pick me up with his own car.

Work the next day was a little wearying, as I was still recovering from the weekend’s exertions, but my mood was lifted by the teasing from my new colleagues. There were all the usual jokes about sheep, Betty adding traditional variety in a series of remarks about rain, plus a remarkably detailed account of the ‘office goss’ arising from our absence from the Friday evening’s post-office pub trip, and I continued to appreciate how right my move had been.

My trips to Bethesda became quite a regular event after that, the bike learning its way from Sheffield via a loop around Manchester for the ‘Expressway’ as it was to become known, along the north coast to Conwy. I could have stayed with that road a lot further, of course, but I would have delt somehow incomplete without the approach from Betws and all the familiar landmarks, from Ugly House to Idwal Cottage.

I found that while my spirits were lifted by the place, it wasn’t quite as far as it had been when arriving from Luton, because my week already held things like Burbage Brook rather than Bury Park. It was in the Spotted Cow with the Edwards that Penny dropped the next bit of news, about a year after I had first moved. The folk club was without a guest artist that evening, so it was purely floor spots. I had noticed the absence of a certain ginger pisshead, after craning my head around trying to spot him while wondering if he was still breathing, when I realised that Penny was calling my name.

“Um, sorry? Miles away”

“Yes, obviously. Just be nice to have you a bit closer for a second or three. Keith and I have an announcement. Stop grinning, Nansi”

That woman chuckled, looking smug, and Penny sighed.

“Some friends… Mike, when I told you what I was doing, remember? These two already know the story, so no secret”

“Yeah: leaving him, wasn’t it? That the job he had was making him someone else?”

“There was more, love. I said I wanted a kid with him, but never in That Place”

Nansi was smiling happily now, as the penny dropped, and as I thought that phrase, I realised how apt it was, because it could only mean one thing: my Penny was, indeed, preparing to drop. I swallowed a couple of times before asking the obvious question.

“When, love? When are you due?”

She reached across to take Keith’s hand.

“Six months from now, Mike. Mrs Smug Chops there is about a month ahead, which is why she’s grinning like the proverbial cat. You’ve got uncle duties ahead of you, so get preparing!”

I gave them all my best smile, making sure we pre-emptively wetted the heads pf both babies-to-be in as adequate a manner as possible, but it was still a wound to my soul. I was ecstatic for the two of them of course, but there was still that hole in my life.

My next weekend was spent in Luton with the woman I had loved.

CHAPTER 6
Carolyn was resting in Luton Vale, not that far from my old place. When I had first decided to move, I had spent hours trying to work out how I could take her with me, to let her follow me to a new home, away from the shithole we had shared, but as I had no idea as to where I would go, that idea had quickly fallen.

It had been lust at first sight, at least as far as I was concerned, for the idea of anyone lusting after myself had always been, in my view, profoundly risible. I had been shopping in my usual supermarket when I had been ambushed with a crushing hug from Audrey, the girlfriend of Alan, one of my occasional climbing partners. Auds had been as cheeky as ever.

“Hiya, Mike! What you got in your trolleys? I mean, trolley?”

“Leave my trolleys out of it, woman! What are you doing here, anyway? You live the other side of Chapel Street--- didn’t the defences hold out?”

“Well, I had a sneaksy sneaksiness to get me through them. This is Caro; she lives in Telscombe Way”

That was less than half a mile from my own front door back then.

“Hiya Caro!”

She wasn’t a big girl, perhaps 5’3 or so, blonde, glasses, but she had as cheeky a grin as Audrey, and I could see how well they fitted together in terms of their sense of humour. We had swapped predictable jokes, many with equally predictable double meanings, and I thought no more of the meeting for at least an hour after we had parted.

There had been something about her, something that had grabbed me by the hindbrain. As I lay in bed that night, I had found myself musing on odd things such as the shape of her nose and the dimple in her left cheek when she smiled…

The next meeting started with a knock on my front door as I ironed my work shirts. It was, of course, Audrey, with Carolyn in tow. All I had on was a dressing gown, and I found myself in the very odd position of continuing to iron as Auds prattled on about the next climbing trip Alan and I had planned, while Carolyn simply sat and listened. Auds had been oddly insistent as they left.

“You down the Nickel Bag on Friday, Mike? We got a pool match, could do with some support?”

“Don’t know, love”

“We need the support, mate!”

“Well, I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

“That better be a ‘yes’, mate! Anyway, bus is due. See you Friday!”

All through this, Carolyn had said sod all. I spent another night thinking of that dimple, and to no surprise on the part of anyone, I was down at the Bag for the pool match. It was an odd one, in that the pub left the juke box running as the match progressed, and both women were dropping coins and selecting tracks after my arrival.

Caro, as I was already thinking of her, picked two tracks several times, tunes by Led Zep and Cyndi Lauper, and they ended up as two of my favourite songs ever: ‘No Quarter’ and ‘True Colours’.

She was wearing stretch ski trousers combined with slingback stiletto shoes, a loose blouse held away from her chest by the nipples of her breasts and…

I found myself rewinding the whole thing, as my hindbrain continued to react to the way the fabric of her trousers stretched across her bum as she bent over the pool table, and while a small part of my sensible mind was saying ‘She’s doing it for your benefit, Mike’, the rest of my brain was simply going ‘Phwooar!’.

There was a Hawkwind gig at the Queensway Hall in a week: what else could I do but ask her out?

She turned up in loose jeans and trainers, and when my eyebrows lifted, remembering taut fabric and heels, she just grinned and made a comment about planted hooks and comfort.

I was lost from that moment on. We made our way into the hall, settling against the edge of the stage, and as I did my best to relax with a woman who was most definitely getting under my skin, the young man next to me started to bullshit about how well he knew the band. A band I knew well enough to go drinking with, for fuck’s sake.

As he prattled on, a familiar figure appeared on stage to fiddle with some cables, a mass of dark curls falling around his face. I called out a ‘Hiya!’, and as he turned towards me, his face broke into a broad grin.

“Hiya, mate!”

“What’s the plan tonight?”

“Ah, the usual. Loads of stuff to sell the new album, then a shitload of standards. You coming back after? I can leave word on the door if you want?”

“Ah, be good. Got a friend with me, so it’ll be up to her, if you don’t mind”

“Course not, Mike. Option will be there. See you in a bit, either way”

As he disappeared backstage, my Hawkwind-expert new friend asked me whether it had been one of the roadies. I put on my best ‘puzzled’ face.

“I thought you knew all the band? That was Harvey, the bass and keyboards player”

His face fell.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew the band?”

His face jerked once more.

“Did he just invite you backstage?”

I answered “Yup, as usual”, before turning away from and ignoring him from then on. Caro was sniggering.

“Thought you were a nice guy”

I leant closer to her.

“I think I am”

She slipped a hand around my back to squeeze my bum.

“That wasn’t a complaint, Mike”

I spent the gig itself with my arms braced against the stage as she danced in their shelter, my new friend having drifted away along the stage, We did end up backstage with the band, and yes, my memories of that were subject to some interruption

What I do remember so, so well is that Caro and I woke up together, and that was the start of the best part of my life, ever.

It was an odd relationship to start with, at least to conventional sensitivities, as we didn’t move in together for a long time. I quickly realised that she was far deeper than the tight trousers and heels had suggested, and then that I was going to take a very, very long time to get to know her properly, if I ever would. I rarely saw her dressed up that way again, for starters, and her logic in keeping separate addresses was flawless.

“We’ve each got our own habits, Mike. Be far easier to knock the sharp edges off if we have breathing room. Like ships, yeah? Sea room. Anyway, how else could I find the time to work my way through the first team at Stockwood Park?”

That was one thing I had learned almost immediately, and cherished deeply: she could never stay serious for long, and a joke would follow almost every statement that could lay claim to any level of gravity.

Unlike Audrey, she was never a climber, but would still come along on club nights at the local wall, which is where I first met Penny, and then Keith. Pen was one of a number of women who would turn up each week, work quietly away at some problem or other, and chat together between bouts of effort. Auds wasn’t exactly part of the little circle, but she always had a smile for them, whereas once Caro started coming along, she fitted in like a missing piece to a jigsaw.

That was another of her talents, for she was never part of the climbing discussions, and made it very clear that she knew absolutely nothing about it worth sharing, she was a hillwalker of the most old-fashioned and solitary kind. Her vice was in gear purchases, particularly tents, and each time we went anywhere near an outdoor equipment shop, she would stop at the entrance, smile at me, and pass me her purse, ‘just in case’.

If a new one-woman tent came out promising a few ounces less in weight than the one she was already using, her bank balance was likely to take a hit. Where Imelda Marcos had rooms filled with shoes, Caro’s flat held ripstop nylon structures, and those conversations with the other women were about such things as the merits of the new carbon fibre versus aluminium alloy.

I had started my climbing ‘career’ in the days of flared jeans and loon pants, and the climbing magazines back then had been filled with pictures of male climbers in unfeasibly tight-thighed denim, the flares rolled up to just below the knee. I still ask myself how on Earth they had ever managed to get off the ground in such clothing, but that all changed when Pete Livesey came onto the scene and introduced the concepts of athleticism rather than simple talent, and fitness rather than just turning up at the crag. Running gear back then involved the tiniest of nylon short-shorts, followed shortly thereafter by Lycra leggings, and of course that became a trend followed by climbers at all levels, just as chalk had become ubiquitous, even on gritstone.

Keith’s first visit to the club involved some decently efficient technical moves performed in the shortest and tightest pair of running shorts I had ever seen, and as he pinch-gripped his way up the two edges that formed our ‘chimney’, I found Caro standing beside me.

“How the hell does he get into those, never mind out of them?”

I looked at her, a little puzzled as to which way her mind was going, still a little uncertain as to how strong my claim was on her, and she reached across to squeeze my backside.

“No, not thinking that, love. Got my bear’s bum right here. Going to have it bare later, if you play your cards right, and I’ve bribed the dealer. No: look at that mouth on Penny. Is she actually bloody drooling?”

Another grin from her.

“That is a very fine bum indeed, but I have two that are much nicer, and they are both mine, all mine, mwahahaha!”

“Two?”

“Don’t pretend my arse wasn’t the first thing you looked at, Mike!”

I shook my head, smiling at her.

“It wasn’t, actually. It was that dimple when you grin, so there”

“Okay, then my arse was the second thing!”

I had to laugh at that.

“Guilty!”

She gave mine another squeeze, turning a much more serious face to me.

“Let’s agree one thing, love: no piss-taking around Penny. She’s been a bit down, a bit solo, more than a bit lonely. I heard you with him earlier, before he got changed”

“Yeah. He’s just started at my place; don’t really know him yet, didn’t realise he was a crag rat”

“Well then, you have an excuse to sit with him for a pint afterwards, and I will see if I can work with Auds to get Penny at the same table”

Another squeeze of my backside, and she turned to walk over to the women’s group.

“Oh, Mike?”

“Yes?”

“That wasn’t a slip. That was my cards on the table. If…”

For the first time, I saw her confidence cracking.

“One deal I haven’t stacked, that one. Not putting pressure on you, just letting you know”

I just nodded at her, as my heart tried to burst out of my chest.

“Not a problem. You set those hooks into Penny, and I’ll do what I can with Keith. You just make sure you grab us all a table, love”

CHAPTER 7
That marked a new period in our lives, as that uncertainty I had picked up on steadily became more evident. Caro, it turned out, was a classic case of imposter syndrome, amazingly well concealed. While she was absolutely realistic about the allure of her rear view, she was far less confident about her worth as a person. She was never completely open about her history, but I worked out that she had stumbled out of a number of relationships, and assumed that each break-up had been down to her failings. She covered it up amazingly well, but in the end, she was always running to a timetable in her affairs of the heart: get what she could before the other person got fed up with her.

I heard the same phrase later, so many times, in so many variations: why are the good ones always so thick? It took a little while for me to spot it, despite the fact that I shared much of the same failings, but once I had worked out her blind spot, I resolved to do my best to steer her away from the edge of her fears.

She was always a creature of impulse, in the finest and most amazing of ways. Easyjet was just starting up in the eighties, and there is a rather well-known airport in Luton that was their home for quite a while. Caro knew my work pattern, and every now and again she would spot something in a Sunday newspaper supplement, or in one of the travel books she devoured, and we would be off for a weekend in a surprising place. I was collecting air miles on my credit card, so we had several summer holidays that involved flying somewhere and then using Interrail to make our way home, usually with only the vaguest of plans.

One classic trip was a flight to Rome, the home of the absolutely shit cup of tea, made with a glass, a teabag and water from the hot tap. We ambled and shambled through the amazing city for a few days before hitting the train north to the South Tyrol, Innsbruck, Lindau (one of her Sunday supplement spots) and couchettes from there back to Ostend and the Jetfoil back to the UK.

Lindau was so typical of her impulse trips, and I will never forget the amazing model railway society there. A huge hangar of a building, incredible track layouts, and a collection of utterly miserable middle-aged men who clearly resented having to let the paying public into their playground.

We learned how pizza varied across a variety of European countries, especially in Slovakia, where you had to pay extra to get tomato sauce on the base, and I realised with each morning how deeply I loved her. That had been confirmed as we stood on the Spanish Steps, arms around each other’s waist, while some random Italian man grabbed her bum. I don’t know quite how she took hold of his hand, and the only words I understood from her sharp comment in Italian were variations on ‘Cazzo’ and ‘Cornuto’, but he left in a hurry, and her smile (and, as she immediately confirmed, her bum) were all for me.

I had to challenge her after that display of fluency.

“You never told me you spoke Italian!”

One of her trademark grins.

“I don’t”

“Well, didn’t sound that way to me, or to him, from the look on his face”

“Nope. I just like learning bits of languages. The sweary bits. Want to hear some Spanish or Dutch rudery? Arabic?”

We made our way back to our hotel near Maria Maggiore, laughing like idiots for much of the way. That was yet another of my favourite memories of her.

In daily life, however, I was also bonding with Keith. Unfortunately for Keith, he wasn’t doing the same with several of our colleagues, which was far from a surprise, given the prevailing atmosphere in the place. A lot of it came down to one specific manager, the famously bipolar Doctor Derek and Mister Simes, but it led to so much fallout in terms of backbiting and snide remarks that it became a signature of the office environment. It wasn’t ‘turtles all the way down’, but snide remarks and petty points-scoring. Even on the ‘team nights out’ that I did my best to avoid, the atmosphere was unfailingly one of men keeping their heads above the notional water by climbing on the backs of others. Those that ended up drowning, who left the job for their health or their sanity, were laughed at as weaklings.

It was almost all men there, but the few women did their level best to outdo them in snark and snidery. I had been looking for a new post for some months when Keith arrived, but the job market was absolutely stagnant under That Woman. Keith was a life preserver, to keep the drowning analogy going, and a lifesaver for my social life.

He had initially found a half-decent flat just off Crawley Green Road, and once we had both realised that we shared an interest in folk music, it became a stop-off for me on the long walk back from the Red Lion to my own place.

That had been an unexpected meeting. Caro being on a late shift, I had turned up at the bar to get my first pint ready for the early floor spots, on the sensible basis that if a certain member was going to perform that evening I would need some analgesia, when Keith came and stood next to me. He looked more than a little surprised to see me.

“Thought you’d be down at the Plume with the rest”

“No, mate. This is my regular, at least this night of the week”

“This night… You here for the folk club?”

“Guilty as charged. You as well?”

“Yup. Got someone I want to hear; had some good reports. Trouble is, they do a lot of Welsh stuff”

I chuckled.

“And you don’t speak any?”

A broad grin.

“I may climb there a lot, but my Welsh is limited to please/thanks/two beers. That and some of the road signs, anyway. You heard them before?”

“Nope. Not that bothered if they turn out to be shite, though: still better than being down the Plume with that lot”

I realised I had most definitely shown him all of my cards, but I had a good feeling about him, and that was borne out over the next few months as we grew to know and like each other. The shit at work was so much easier to bear when I knew there was someone decent to talk to and share a raised eyebrow with when Doctor or Mister got even harder to tolerate. Life preserver, and indeed job preserver, that was Keith.

We became a threesome at the club whenever Caro was free, and then Penny made it four, as she seemed to find Keith’s arse as magnetic a feature as I did Caro’s grin-dimple; nobody at all was surprised when they moved in together in his flat, followed by a move out to Sundon Park and those walks out away from the plastic lager dispensary just around the corner from their 1950s semi.

Life was good, at least those parts that didn’t directly involve our workplace. We started planning weekends away, hen shifts allowed, and while the shorter ones usually meant time at the Peak gritstone edges, the longer ones usually meant North Wales. In both cases, as we men were both bikers, the accommodation was of necessity in whichever youth hostel was nearest. Carrying a full set of climbing gear along with camping equipment for two was never really an option, not if either of us wanted a modicum for comfort on or off the bike. The only time we managed to combine the two loads was when Alan and Auds joined us, their car becoming a joint asset, and those trips were almost always in either North Leas below Stanage or Little Willy’s below the east face of Tryfan.

The folk club became our other anchor in a town full of dark undercurrents and open nastiness, where every group seemed to hate every other one. I was most definitely looking for an exit strategy, but that went on hold the day Carolyn proposed to me.

“Mike, love?”

It was about four in the morning, and I was in that odd state of semi-waking that comes with knowing the alarm is going to go off, but not for at least another ninety minutes. I grunted out something approximating a working brain, and Caro snuggled closer to me as the rain rattled against the window and I realised the ride into work was going to be a miserable one.

“Was talking to Penny last week. She says she’s been dropping hints to Keith”

“Mmfff?”

“Yes. Exactly. Heavy hints. That suit still fit, or do we need to go shopping?”

“Gnumf?”

“Heavy hints, love. Keithy Boy needs to start paying attention, and you need to start writing a speech”

That one woke me up properly.

“Speech? You mean, as in wedding stuff?”

“As in hints he couldn’t miss, love. Not forever, anyway. Question has been popped and ring will be visible next climbing club night”

“Shit! He never said anything to me!”

“More important people to talk to. Pen, for one. She drops good hints, does Pen. I don’t do hints, never have”

I mumbled something about stretchy trousers and pool tables, and she poked me in the ribs.

“Those weren’t hints, they were hooks”

All of a sudden, I was wide awake, eyes and mind fully open.

“So what you’re saying is that you think we…”

Another dig in the ribs.

“Nope. None of that. Just need to know what date works best for you, marriage wise. Not taking no for an answer, and I don’t think ‘No’ is going to be anywhere in your thoughts. I know how well my hooks are set, Mike. Now, how much time before the alarm goes off?”

“About an hour and ten”

“Then we’ve got time for a shower afterwards. Come here, love”

CHAPTER 8
There were very few people from work at the reception, which Penny and Keith held in the Red Lion, in the same stables bar the folk club usually occupied. As many of the guests were fellow folk club members, it was familiar territory for them; the climbers, being climbers, simply needed to know what direction the bar was in.

The wedding itself was held in the Registry Office on George Street, and our plan was to wander back that way later in the evening to hit the India Garden on Wellington Street for a final refuelling stop. As the soon-to-be-married couple would be flying to Palma the next day, I pitied anyone sharing the plane’s cabin and their curry-related effusions.

Auds and Caro did the bridesmaid thing, I did the best man bit with the ring, and about twenty of us then descended on the Lion. They had a proper meal for us, the staff having gone above and beyond, and of course someone had brought their guitar, another two their fiddles, plus some squeezeboxes, and if the people from our climbing club didn’t know the songs when we started, they did by the time we decamped to the Garden.

Parts of my memories of that day were somewhat blurred the next morning, and I felt rather fragile for the early part of the day, but as Keith always said, the liver is evil and must be punished. Caro didn’t rise from our bed till gone eleven, and when she did, she just pointed at the kettle.

“Tea. Now”

There was no way we would have been at the airport in time to wave them off, so we just spent the morning planning our own trip for the following weekend, four days’ worth of it after some convenient swaps of our shifts. I had traded up to a 900 Kwak by then, and after some careful studying of the bus timetables, we had a Plan.

I stood astride the Kwak that Friday morning as Caro mounted behind me. The tent and sleep mats were on the rack, our other kit spread around throwovers, tank bag and a rucksack Caro was wearing. That nearly meant her falling over backwards, but she flung out a hand to grab my shoulder, finally settling down with a wriggle. I tried not to laugh out loud.

“You’ll have to grow some longer legs, love”

“Yeah, and you’d love that, you lech, wouldn’t you? Let’s get rolling before the rain starts!”

“It’s set fine, woman”

“We’re heading for Wales, so enough said. That and the soul sucker”

Her name for the stretch around Birmingham; I set the bike into first gear, and we were indeed rolling, through the edge of the town to the M1 and a peel off onto the M6 after Watford Gap services. I gritted my teeth as we approached the pit of despair that is the urban stretch of motorway through Birmingham, where it became a mixture of stop-go-stop-go with occasional filtering when the cars became stationary.

My mind was in its usual odd mix of concentration and silliness, and when a number of stationary cars did let us through, I thought ‘letters’, ‘stationary’, ‘stationery’, and of course I ended up trying not to laugh too hard. I am far too easily amused when locked into a bike helmet, oh my.

Finally, as we approached Hilton Park, the traffic started to speed up, and when we peeled off onto the M54 I was able to let the Kwak have its head, despite the shitty concrete surface to the road. Through Telford, and then watching for the tail of the inevitable queue as the three-lanes-each-way motorway abruptly became a single carriageway road with one lane each way.

I will never understand how such a road scheme ever got signed off as acceptable. The traffic wasn’t that bad, for once, and finally, after threading Shrewsbury centre, we were waiting at the lights by the Welshpool turning. On through Bicton and Montford Bridge, my spirits lifting as we got closer to the border and landmarks came and went. The Old Three Pigeons and its tank, better roads with decent sightlines, and much less traffic. The first raindrops hit us just before Oswestry, so I pulled into our usual spot for a hot drink and its consequences.

Little Chef was the place back then. The food was never outstanding, but both of us found it tasty, and this one did pots of tea rather than single cups, along with cafetieres of reasonable coffee. Dropping Caro off to order our refreshments, I took the bike around to the pumps to refill the tank, using its lack of width to sneak back to the café through some bollards rather than ride it all the way round again. Sod having a car.

Back in, as the rain squall blew through, and blue followed. I still grabbed both pairs of overtrousers before entering the café.

Hot tea for her. Hot coffee for me. An Olympic breakfast for each of us, despite the time of day, and once refuelled and drained pf non-precious bodily fluids, we were onto the last short stretch of English roads. There was the usual wriggle as we dropped into the valley before Chirk, as Caro craned her neck to look at the canal aqua/viaduct, and then it was ‘Croeso i Gymru’, and much nicer roads after Chirk. The rain held off, my spirits lifting with each familiar spot, and then that view from the Geeler Arms before the descent to Pentrefoelas. The hills closed in on us before the more open space by the Waterloo Bridge and the usual Betws traffic jam.

Breathe, Michael. Not far now.

Right-left by the Ugly House, carefully through Capel, grin at the sunlight gilding pen Llithrig and finally, finally the long straight past Helyg to Little Willy’s. Caro used the gate post to steady her as she dismounted before the cattle grid, and then we were parked up against Emlyn’s garden wall as we unloaded and dumped our bags on a suitable sweep of grass.

Sod Caro’s cobwebs and elf spoo tents; we had my Wild Country dome tent with us. I was all too familiar with the winds in that place. While I set out the bedrolls, Caro erected our little windbreak and stove before walking over to the waterpoint so that we could get outside another cuppa. We were alive once again, rather than just enduring another day.

I did the usual run down into Bethesda for beers and chips, along with our usual basics for breakfast and a couple of evening meals, and once back at the tent we settled down with my purchases before pulling out the bus timetable I had managed to find in the post office, confirming our plans for the morning. By eight thirty, we were in bed, at peace with each other and the place that held us to itself like a second home.

A walk past the Milestone the next morning left me twitchy, because I would normally have peeled off at that point for the crag and some favourite routes. Instead, we kept walking until Idwal Cottage and its bus stop. I was still awash with tea, so we left Dennis and Dafydd’s place alone and simply settled into our seats for the first part of our expedition.

Two bus rides and a stroll up a track, and we were under the Aber waterfall and checking our loading once again. We weren’t heavily laden, as we only planned to be out for one night, but things like sleeping bags are bulky things. We were carrying one of Caro’s lightweight tents rather than my fortress, but our intention was to overnight in the Foel Grach shelter rather than pitch it.

Through the firebreak tracks in the conifer plantations, goldcrests and other small birds calling before ducking out of sight, past the slightly awkward but at the top of the falls, and then out onto the open moorland. It wasn’t an area I really knew, but the walk was an obvious one for anyone with a soul, and both of us had been planning it, separately, for years. We stood at the top of the escarpment, looking out to the Irish Sea, hand in hand and grinning.

Sod Luton.

The next several miles were all new to both of us, even though there were several places, such as the wire fence on Drum, that I had seen in multiple photographs, usually with long streamers of ice and wind-driven hoar frost. It wasn’t that sort of day, thank god, and while our gaiters were essential, we didn’t need our waterproofs at all. We passed the minor summits before the first of our six three-thousand-footers, Foel Fras, and it was already heading into late afternoon. The whole route was around fifteen miles long, and if we had pushed harder we could have knocked it off in a day, but that wasn’t the point. We had taken a long break sitting on grass by the drystone wall near Drum, enjoying the sun and the games being played by ravens and buzzards in the cloud-studded blue dome above us, just holding hands as our others held a brew from a thermos flask Caro had squeezed into her rucksack.

“Mike?”

“Yes, love?”

“What did you think of that do? Penny and Keith’s?”

“Um, thought it was a good one. The bits I remember, anyway”

“Yeah. I did as well. Our sort of people, most of the ones who were there. Gave me some ideas, it did, but I had another thought. Any idea what the rules are about getting wed somewhere you don’t live?”

“Dunno, love. Where were you thinking of?”

“Not sure. I mean, somewhere like Lindau would be magic, but that’s a bit of a stretch. I was wondering if somewhere up here, or maybe by Fort Bill, that sort of place, might do it”

“Would put the mockers on some people coming, too much travel. That and time off from work and stuff”

She grimaced.

“Yeah, I know all that, just as I know we’re going to end up in bloody George Street, but we don’t have to stay there. Split the hitching and the knees-up? There’s a bunkhouse in Llanberis we could block book, and plenty of hotels there have a decent function room”

I shuffled across to her so that I could lay an arm over her shoulder.

“Not been thinking much at all, then?”

That trademark grin, dimple and all.

“Well, not beyond ringing the bunkhouse and seeing when they’re free. October do you? And. Er. The registry office has a slot, and I sort of sent a cheque off to that bunkhouse for a deposit…”

Of course I kissed her. She had stitched me up properly, but then again, as it was something I was coming to realise more and more, that stitching was taking me somewhere I really wanted to go. As we separated, she grinned once more.

“How much room in this shelter place, then?”

“Well, two people can fit in, side by side, or spooned, as long as they are REALLY close friends!”

A happy laugh.

“Or I could just lie on top of you…”

The rest of the walk took enough breath away to stop most of our laughter, but our smiles never left us. Finally, Foel Fras and Carnedd Uchaf were behind us, and we were coming towards the top of the third of our three thousands, Foel Grach, hand in hand once more. I led the way round the scabby pile of rocks that gave the summit its name, to find the shelter door open, and a middle-aged couple sitting outside. A sleeping bag was just visible inside. Bollocks.

I still had to ask.

“Excuse me--- are you planning on staying the night here?”

The woman answered, as her obvious other half worked a small stove rather similar to my own. She looked to be in her forties or so, very slim, in a powder-blue T-shirt and baggy walking trousers, boots unlaced. I recognised her as someone I had met more than a few times in the usual places, like the Vaynol Arms and the Idwal snack bar, as well as on some of the wilder walking routes.

“We are that. Were you hoping to do the same?”

Caro answered for me.

“We were that. Just walked up from Aber; going on to Little Willy’s in the morning”

The older woman winced.

“So sorry, love. Bit of a tradition for us, this one. Wedding anniversary. What do you have with you, kit wise?”

Caro was firmly in charge at that point.

“We have a decent tent broken down between us, so don’t worry. Just need to find a softer spot. I’m Carolyn, by the way, and the big lump’s Mike”

“Well, I’m Pat, him now literally indoors is Rob. Nice to meet you. Got a stove and water?”

I nodded, and Pat grinned.

“Get it set up next to ours, then, and I’ll show you a decent pitch for the night”

As I dragged out the necessary bits and pieces, she led my lover off around a corner of the rocks. I squeezed into the shelter next to a walnut-coloured man who seemed to be all sinew and flashing grin.

“Get brewing then, son! Devious, is my lass, and if that’s her usual site, it’s a bomb-proof one. How long are you up for, wherever it is you’ve escaped from?”

“Just a long weekend, and it was… Luton”

As I started our own stove, he winced.

“Oh dear. You have all of my sympathy indeed! Now, you smuggled anything past your own lass?”

“Sorry?”

“I humped up a couple of bottles of vino. Don’t tell me you don’t have those bottles I saw you load up with in Bethesda yesterday? It was you, wasn’t it? Big red and white Kawasaki?”

I couldn’t help shaking my head and grinning.

“I think I’ve met Pat and you a couple of times, or at least enough for a wave and a hello”

“Probably. Answer the question, son!”

I couldn’t help yet another grin.

“Guilty”

“Then, if you don’t mind, we can have a decent evening together, and toast the sunset together. Here’s the other two back. Pat? Met this’un before, we have”

She peered at me, then grinned.

“On Crib Goch once?”

“Indeed. Not to mention the Vaynol and the Bryn Tyrch”

“Ha! A man of taste”

Rob called past me.

“I saw him in the Co-Op yesterday. He’s come adequately suppled, he has, hint hint!”

Pat’s eyebrows rose, and a grin almost as dazzling as Caro’s shone out.

“Red or white, Mike?”

Later, as Caro and I were cooling down from making love in our little tent, I caught the sound of Pat as she and Rob did the same. I couldn’t begrudge them their place in the shelter, and I took comfort in the simple fact that people like them existed. People like me and my own lover.

‘Sod Luton’ was my last clear thought before sleep took me.

CHAPTER 9
The tent’s flysheet was soaking when I woke, but with dew rather than downpour. Our little spot was to the East of the rock pile that held the shelter, so the sun was already having an effect on the moisture. I wriggled into my breeks and shirt before slithering out, standing barefoot on a rock before stepping sockless into my boots. Nature was calling in an urgent way, and once I had disposed of that night’s wine I pulled the kettle out of my rucksack ready for Caro’s wake-up drink.

“You both up, love? I heard the clanking”

Pat’s voice was absolutely overflowing with good cheer, so clearly genuine. I stepped round the boulders to see her sitting outside the shelter as Rob worked the stove inside, and she waved a hand at him.

“Got enough water for another couple of mugs, love, if you want to grab them. Oh, and take a look over there past Yr Elen”

I did as she suggested, and it was stunning, the lower ground covered in fog, or the top of low cloud, the peaks around us standing clear in bright sunlight like islands in a pearly sea. I had only ever seen a few cloud inversions before, usually in wintertime, but I was most definitely sharing this one with my own lover.

Pat just stood grinning.

“Grab your mugs, then, and give her indoors, or intent, a prod. She won’t want to miss this!”

I did as advised, giving the tent a little shake to see if Caro had joined the land of the living. Almost…

“You better have tea ready for me”

“It’s being made. You need to get up; something special to see”

There was a little bit of grunting before she was sitting in the tent’s entrance, bare feet sliding into her boots.

“And?”

“Walk this way, Madam”

“I’ll walk my own way, if you don’t mind---fuck! That’s magic! Hang on; I need my camera”

A quick dive back into our tent, and she was back with me, her old SLR in hand, and our walk round to the shelter was interrupted by a couple of stops for pictures of the surrounding islands in the gloom. Pat had her own camera out, and I left the two of them to snap away, handing Rob our mugs as his stove hissed away. Once the tea was brewed, we both stepped out and settled onto a couple of convenient slabs, Rob sighing in obvious contentment.

“Which way are you going from here, Mike?”

“Oh, over the big lump, then down the zigzags to Llugwy and the CEGB road. You?”

“Pat likes the Ladders, so along them to Dafydd and then the gentler way off Pen yr Ole Wen. We’re in Little Willy’s as well, for a week”

“Oh, we’ve just got the weekend. Back to work for us both on Tuesday”

He grinned again.

“In That Place, then?”

“Oh yes. Need an exit strategy at some point, but, well, a job’s a job these days, and we have a roof, so, well. Caro? Tea!”

The two women ambled back to us, clearly discussing the finer points of their over-complicated cameras, and Pat sighed.

“People we know, Rob and me, they always ask why I keep taking pictures of the same mountains, and I always say---”

Caro interrupted just then.

“That it’s never the same mountain? Always different?”

Pat frowned slightly, then grinned yet again.

“Exactly that! One of those things, not got the word for it. Rob said it, years ago”

He nodded.

“Aye. Never found the right word myself, but it’s a soul thing. One of those ‘If you have to ask, you’ll never understand’ wotsits. It’s either in you, or it isn’t, and if it is, then you don’t really need a special word. Just sometimes, you see something, or you’re just in a place, and someone else, someone you’ve never met before, you just grin at each other, no words. Soul, that’s what it is. Being alive, properly”

Caro was nodding in agreement, but she had to slide a joke in, being who she was.

“Yes, but this one pushes his luck, though, being silly on rocky bits”

Pat’s eyebrows rose.

“You a climber, then, Mike? Not just a walker?”

I nodded.

“I am, but not the usual route into it, I suspect. Always been a hillwalker, but it was in Glencoe, years ago; got myself into a couple of places that felt hairy. Didn’t have the skills, I suppose, or better, the right state of mind, self-confidence. Found a local climbing club to try and sort that out, and ended up hooked”

Rob was frowning slightly.

“Am I thinking the same thing as you here? People who only see one game in the hills?”

Caro was nodding now, and when she spoke it was in a far more serious way than was usual for her.

“Yes, that’s it. One of the things that did catch my attention when we first met. I’m not a climber, never will be, but I’m happy on steep ground. It’s what they call the gestalt for me, the whole thing, whether it be the peaks, or the open spaces, or the natural history stuff”

Pat looked up sharply at that, as Caro continued.

“We are both in a club, down in what you call That Place. It’s supposed to be a multi thingy, climbing, caving and outdoors, but the cavers are only interested in holes, while most of the climbers--- we meet at an indoor climbing wall in a sports centre. Most of the climbers see real crags as being like an outdoor version of that wall, and I swear some of them seem to expect bloody cleaners to come round after them”

Pat snapped out a terse “If you can carry it up the hill when it’s full, you can bloody well carry it back down when it’s empty!”, and we all nodded, silent as we each sipped our tea.

Rob muttered something under his breath, and Pat nudged him to share it.

“Aye, I was in the climber’s caff in Llanberis once, having a look through the new routes book. Someone hadn’t understood what the book was for, and put in a comment on a day’s walking, and instead of just putting a label on the book explaining what it was for, loads of ‘real climbers’ had written a whole series of things like ‘wanker’ and that. I think here, the four of us, I think we all know who the real wankers are, am I right?”

There was no disagreement to that, so Caro turned the conversation away from the nastiness to lighter things, from bird life to the best local places for getting pictures developed.

“I always leave mine till we get home, otherwise, on a bike, with rain, the prints get ruined”

Pat shrugged.

“We’re in the car, so we pop into Bangor, use the one hour service at Addison’s. Gives us time to get some groceries and stuff; better choice in the big city than in Bethesda”

Rob barked out a laugh.

“Aye, and the rest! You two, she has somewhere else she spends a lot of time in over there. You going to admit it, love?”

Another shrug from his wife.

“Guilty, I suppose. Cob Records. Got a superb folk section, and obviously loads of the Welsh stuff you can’t find anywhere down our way”

It was my own turn to look up sharply, before grinning.

“You two folkies as well, then? Got our own club down in That Place. Good crowd, there. They get some good acts in, but then the club gets a grant from the local arts council. Be all floor spots without that, it would”

Pat laughed.

“Nothing wrong with a decent floor spot. Unless it’s from Rob, there. Sometimes he thinks he can sing. You know there’s a club in Bethesda? Can be a bit irregular in the Summer, but me and him, we drive down, toss a coin for who stays off the beer. You’ve missed it this week, though”

That was me shown up as a fount of local knowledge, for I hadn’t realised such a place existed.

“If we’d known, hell! Always avoided Bethesda. Bit of a reputation, that place. And being on a bike puts the mockers on things”

Pat was insistent.

“You got out to the Vaynol, though, and the Bryn”

“Ah, the Bryn’s next door to the Youth Hostel, almost. If I’m climbing, I don’t camp; no room for both on the bike. If I’m up with the club, they tend to blitz the Pass, so we camp at the Grochan, or doss at Humphrey’s bunkhouse, so it’s a walk to the Vaynol. Been warned off Bethesda too often”

Rob was shaking his head.

“Place has a reputation, I’ll give you that, but once you’re inside it, they’re good folk. Tell you what: if we bump into each other again, at Willy’s, me or Pat will drive you down for a pint and some music. Now, I think it’s time for bacon sarnies. What have you two brought?”

We finally parted on the top of the ‘Big Lump’ after a round of hugs and handshakes, as Caro and I turned South-East for the Saddle and the other two set off along the ridge to Dafydd. I hadn’t been wrong about the gloom, and by the time we were on the Zig-Zags it was raining steadily. We had paused at the base of the little rock step to pull on our waterproofs, and after the knee-destroying descent of the VEGB road, we were sweating heavily. I really needed to get one of the new breathable jackets, I realised, but it was still far better being warm and moist than cold and wet. My bigger tent was still dry inside, of course, and after topping up our water supplies, Caro and I left our boots and waterproofs in the rear vestibule while brewing up in the front one, then settled down to read as the sound of the rain on our fly gradually diminished, an opened sleeping back laid over our lower halves..

“Mike, love?”

“Yes?”

“That couple, Pat and Rob. They’re really, dunno, right? I mean, right in their skins, right for each other. Do you think we’ll ever get that settled?”

I turned onto my side, setting down my book and pulling her to me.

“Only one way to find out, love, so you better be ready for October”

She squeezed me tightly enough to stop my breath, before kissing me.

“Walk those paths together, then?”

I kissed the tip of her nose.

“Oh yes!”

There was a rattle of pans outside, just as things might have become more interesting., and Pat’s voice.

“I’m driving tonight, if that’s Mike and Carolyn in there; we’re eating in the dry at the Bryn. Fancy a lift?”

Living life the way we needed to, together, and with new friends. As soon as we were back in Luto, Caro and I sorted out the banns. October 12th would be our wedding day, followed by a long weekend in Llanberis. The Rogal Victoria had a function room for a blow-out, and the bunkhouse was more than glad to take a party booking for what was heading for the off-season.

The one place I didn’t shout too loudly about our nuptials was at work. Derek and Simes were most definitely not going to be welcome at the feast.

CHAPTER 10
It was a hell of a do. While there were a lot of folkies along, the atmosphere was predominantly focussed on climbing. I was a little surprised at how many of said folkies were ready to engage in outdoor stuff, but Caro had nudged me early on with a very heavy hint about tradition, land, culture and, overall, being a folky. When the instruments came out, a couple of the waiters in the Royal Vic said something about music licences, until their duty manager appeared, said something more pointed about taste, and then, clearly deliberately, sat down for a listen.

The couple of days after the reception were wonderful, ours spent almost entirely at Tryfan Fach ferrying newbies up the easy slab. I really didn’t mind, because they were all our friends, and they were smiling, and that was more than enough for me—for us.

Luton had been different, and I will gloss over the interrogation I got from Dr Derek (for it was him driving that day). I gave an answer involving privacy, difficult family and other lies, and left it at that.

Fuck him.

We had the formal bit, just as with Keith and Penny’s wedding, at the Registry office in George Street, followed by a piss up that started in the Lion, ‘because tradition’, went to the usual restaurant, ‘because more tradition’, and then continued in The Two Brewers because ‘independent brewery with decent ales’. Tradition was most definitely not observed in the aftermath, which left rather a lot of us crashed on floor space offered by those of our crowd that had some available. What we had in the way of a ‘honeymoon’ followed the days in Snowdonia as Caro and I took a cheap package to the North of Mallorca and hiked and scrambled on the sharp limestone of the Serra Tramuntana, staying in the resort town of Port de Pollenca.

Caro loved the place, because it was absolutely overflowing with exotic birds, from hoopoes to a large number of gulls, including one that ambled around on top od the little breakwaters just offshore, allowing us to swim to within six or seven feet of them. There were rock pinnacles at the entrance to one little valley, where I spent a couple of our evenings soloing as Caro watched all sorts of rarities, and that same valley gave us access to one of the most wonderful of the ridges, where the crest was at the top of a natural arch that pierced the whole thing from East to West. The food, once we found our way past the ubiquitous ‘English pubs’ and other rubbish, was another delight, despite the lousy excuse for beer.

The local drink was at least rather better than the keg piss on sale in those ‘English pubs’, so we managed; besides, there was always wine. I found myself laughing happily on one scramble, and that brought a smile from my wife.

“What’s funny, Mister Rhodes? Or are you just happy?”

“Well, I am indeed happy. Mrs Rhodes, but I was actually laughing at a sort of reversal”

We were sitting on top of that same ridge just then, about fifty yards from one of the ‘windows’, and I just waved my water bottle at her.

“Here we are, with loads of things to keep water in, and if we were back in Wales, we would be more worried about keeping it out!”

She shook her head, grinning.

“You are perverse, Mike”

“Guilty, but you love me anyway”

That brought a much wider grin from her, and a “Guilty!” of her own, before she turned back to more important things.

“You having that octopus on a plank again tonight?”

“You mind?”

“No, as long as I can have one of those stuffed bream things”

Her laughter was sudden and loud.

“Those poor, stupid buggers going to that crap chippy place. Will they ever see what they’re missing?”

“No sense, no feeling, no tastebuds. Oh, and I did a sneaky for two days’ time”

“And?”

“Got hire bikes reserved for a ride down to that reserve you wanted to visit”

“On their saddles?”

“Well, I suggest you wear your cycle shorts for it”

“Yeah, I’ll just pop home, then”

“Nope. Packed them with mine, when you weren’t looking”

That was a snapshot of our honeymoon, in so many ways, almost all of them of the very best. I will gloss over her occasional kicks to my shins when, as she claimed, my snoring got excessive.

Luton was a shock in some of the worst ways, only slightly eased by our existing familiarity with the place. We took the time on our last day off to spend a silly amount of money at the ‘one hour’ photograph place, getting two sets of prints from each roll of film so that we could each get the obligatory interrogation by colleagues out of the way. I had my own little worry just then, because I was expecting a number of letters, and four days after our return, four of them had landed on my doormat.

Four of us were sitting in the Two Brewers that evening, our packets of holiday snaps doing the rounds, when I drew the letters from my coat pocket.

“Keith, Pen: Caro and I have talked about this, and we’re on the same page, so don’t worry about domestics, but it had to be done”

Pen looked sharply at my wife, and she nodded back.

“Yes, love. I’m on the same page as you here. Two can live as cheaply as one, so on and so forth, and that gives my boy here a choice. Doesn’t have to put up with that shit any more, does he?”

Pen shook her head.

“Two shits. One body, but two shits, and there are others there as well. Not as shitty, though”

Caro shrugged.

“Toilet’s a toilet, however many turds are in it. Can’t flush that one, though. Want to show them what we’ve got, lover mine?”

That warmed my heart beyond words, for she could have argued in so many ways, about steadiness of income, stability, financial risk, and all she had said after I had revealed my plan had been “Bastards, all of them, except Keith, of course. You need out. How are we doing it?”

‘We’.

I pulled the letters out, fanning them on the pub table.

“I put in ten applications. Six never replied. These four are one rejection due to ‘the economic climate’, one ‘please ask again in two months’, and two offers of a contract. One’s as a sort of peripatetic rescue service for people who’ve got their accounts into shit state, and the other’s a settled post in the company HQ, working in market development”

Penny looked up at that.

“Which means?”

“Place has a lot of irons in a lot of fires. I would overlook the various accounts, look at profitability, suggest where the best opportunities lie”

Keith put his glass down, looking at mine to see if I wanted a refill. I nodded, and as he rose, he pointed at the first letter.

“My tuppence worth is that if you are forever out and about sorting other people’s crap, you won’t actually be going anywhere in the job. SOS?”

“Could I have a SOD instead? Fancy something a bit chunkier after all that lager”

Penny waited till he had gathered the empties and left for the bar before passing her own comment.

“Not spoken to him yet, but, well, I’m in the same boat here. Or rather, we are. Don’t know what to do, though, cause Keith hasn’t got your qualifications”

I shook my head.

“He’s a solid worker, Pen”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t… Look, it’s a warzone out there, finding jobs right now. He’s not got the ammunition he needs”

“Want me to see what’s about?”

She looked over her shoulder towards the bar, then back towards me and Caro.

“No, ta. For those reasons only, not slapping you down. I’m working on it, trying to think of a way to sort it. You two with us on that one?”

Caro reached out for her hand, giving it a squeeze.

“I can answer for both of us here, and it’s a simple one: don’t be silly. Of course we are. Hi, Keith--- we’re talking about the best way to wind up your boss-stroke-bosses when my darling here jumps ship. Any fun ideas? The nastier and more perverse the better”

Penny raised her fresh glass of Shefford Old Strong, to clink it in turn against each of ours, starting with my pint of Old Dark.

“We likes perverse, we does!”

I started to draft an acceptance letter for the better job as soon as we were home. I left the planning of perverse exits to my wife; she was ever a mile ahead of me in such matters. In the end, we kept it low key, Penny’s suggestion of inviting Simes and Derek to a leaving do in a pub we would be nowhere near being dismissed as too complicated. I simply did the standard thing of paying some money to the nearest pub to the office, for sandwiches and a few drinks ‘behind the bar’, before handing back all my keys, pass, date stamp and so on.

The real do, of course, was held in the Lion as part of the Folk Club, and our journey home was by taxi.

I was free

I will admit that the new job was a challenge, but it was a refreshing change in management style. Derek/Simes Farrell had always concentrated on what could be called ‘process’, whereas the new place was clearly focussed on ‘outcome’. Harry Bartholomew, my new boss, or rather immediate manager, spent quite a while explaining what he wanted me to achieve, only leaving what he called signposts for the method, and as long as I could demonstrate appropriate results, it would be down to me how I got them. I was almost in shock at the change.

When I say Farrell concentrated on ‘process’, of course, I really mean nitpicking. His attitude was that whatever good result had been achieved, there had to be a thread he could find to tug that would unravel it all to demonstrate how only he was in any way competent, and that everyone else was useless. I was definitely well out of there, and as I was now settling into a more normal pattern of working hours, Caro and I were able to spend more evenings and mornings with the Hiatts exploring how well the pubs in Sundon kept their ale. Ride the bike there, lay out the bedding, put the world to rights, and chuckle over Caro’s idea of a ‘perverse’ departure.

It was simple, in the end. Once my feet were properly under the table at my new job, she had taken some of the photos from our honeymoon to a printer we knew through the folk club, and prepared a postcard. The idea was that a card would pass through the mailroom, where it could be read by anyone, and the gossip machine set going.

The picture showed me and Caro in the Los Faroles restaurant, smiling over a collection of wonderful seafood as a friendly waiter took a snap. The card was addressed to both Derek and Simes, and read “Bloody glad you weren’t here. Even happier you’ll never be anywhere near us again!”

CHAPTER 11
Routine could now be a thing in our lives, but that didn’t mean boring. Our weeks and months of domesticity were moored to fixed points, such as the folk and climbing clubs, and if Keith couldn’t make them due to his shifts, Pen was there to hold up their end of the deal. Whenever we could, Caro and I would pack our tent for a weekend of walking, or four of us would head off together for some climbing.

Caro was never a climber, which puzzled me, for she was unworried at height, as well as being more than competent on steep ground. When we needed a rope, such as during one horrendously iced-up traverse of Crib Goch or a seriously worrying bit of vile weather on Nevis that saw us having to make repeated abseils down via the Carn Mor Dearg arete, she knew exactly what she was doing, but she declined every offer of what she called ‘gymnastics’ on rock.

It took me a long while to work it out, but I suspected in the end that it was down to imposter syndrome. I would catch her looking at me every so often, with either a small frown or a hint of a smile, and things slowly came together in my mind.

Her lack of any sense of personal worth was well-hidden, but it was there all of the time. She had spent so much of her own hill-time solo, and each time she declined a rope and a chance at a route, it became clearer to me.

I won’t walk with others because I’ll be too slow for them.
I won’t climb with others because I’ll just look stupid, faff about and spoil their day.
If I really study routes, maps, history and gear, I won’t sound as stupid as I know I really am.
If I adopt a brash and cocky persona, nobody will be able to tell how rubbish I am.

A couple of anodyne conversations with Auds confirmed my suspicions, as she revealed how Caro’s love life had been a series of short, unfinished moments of ‘not quite’.

“Yeah, Mike, she saw you that first time, and it wasn’t as bad as Penny drooling over Keith’s shorts, but, well!”

“Auds: please don’t put images like that in my head. They’re not good ones”

“Yeah, well. Telling tales out of school, Mike, but she was all questions about you”

“What sort?”

“Well, apart from ‘Is he single?’, you mean? She did ask that, yes. Then it was ‘why’, Mike”

“And? What did you say?”

We were sitting in the bar after the climbing club that evening, Keith and Al being on the wrong shifts and the two women off to see some girly film or other, and Audrey reached across for my hand.

“What’s the worry, Mike? She’s not looking elsewhere, far as I can see”

“Oh, it’s not that, love. It’s just that sometimes she seems a little lost. Odd, really: only getting to know a woman properly after I marry her”

“Confidence, Mike. Self-confidence. Cards on table here, okay? She saw you, fancied you, and then, well, you are right. All the questions then, all the worry. It was me who suggested that bit over the pool table, with her arse and those trousers, by the way”

“Um, I had noticed that bit”

“Ha! Caught your eye, though, didn’t it?”

“That wasn’t what did it, Auds”

“What was it, then?”

“Honestly? It was her smile”

“Really?”

“Yup. Dimples and all”

She paused a moment for a sip of her orange juice, then smiled at me, a little sadly.

“I ran it past Al, to be honest. You two are much the same, you know? Not you and my fellah, of course. I mean you and her, not you and Al, course. Confidence thing. Both you and her, you and confidence. You cover it up with jokes and that, but it doesn’t always work”

Some ‘anodyne chat’. I tried to turn it away from the serious stuff, but Audrey just waved a hand.

“Shush! Me talking. Anyway, Al said it reminded him of something, of someone else, and he’s right. When he was at college, he had a friend, a girl friend not a girlfriend woman, and she was fat. He liked dancing with her, in the folk dance club, because she was big enough to balance his weight when it was a ‘swing your partner’. Sylvia, that was her name. Anyway, in the third term this new lad turns up, Malcolm, like half a hillside he was, and Sylvia just goes all slack-jawed and soppy. When everyone comes back after Summer holidays, she’s lost half her bodyweight. She saw what she wanted, and she went for it. That was Caro with you”

“She didn’t diet, did she?”

“Caro? No. Just sorted out a few things to boost her confidence, like that outfit at the pool, but it was more me and Al pushing her. Well, not pushing, really; just keeping her on course. You know something? I actually met Sylvia and Mal, just by chance. We’d gone to that place, folk day thing, near Aylesbury, and this absolutely gorgeous blonde comes up to Al, asks if he’s who she thinks he is, and then calls hubby over for a catch-up. Got her man, she did. Same with Caro. Same with you”

She paused for a while, as I sought for words, any words, words that might turn the conversation away from such private matters, but Auds wasn’t finished.

“I was going to say the usual shit, Mike, about not hurting her and that, but, well. No need for that one, is there?”

All I could do was shake my head, for she understood. Another squeeze of my hand.

“You’re just like her, love, and what you are both thinking, each about the other, is that you’ll fail them. Not going to happen, in my opinion. Just need to teach you what actually counts as failing, and get you to understand it isn’t in either of you. Anyway, sup up. Got a warm man due home shortly, and I have a cold bed to get him into. Think on, okay? Don’t do yourself down”

She was off, and I was left stunned. People, other people, seemed to see things so much more clearly than I ever could, or at least find better words, but I was still the one in the hot seat. I made that resolution anew: I would never let Caro down, whatever it took.

We had the tome and the weather forecast the following weekend, so we were off on the bike as soon as we were both home and changed. This was a walking weekend, based at a pub near Beachy Head. Ni climbing for me, but I would be with my wife, and she would be happy with the cliffs and the birdwatching, and there was always that trump card: it wasn’t Luton.

The pub was a great one, with some really good ale, as well as bloody good food, and the weather kept its promises. The cliff scenery was spectacular, and the ladder at Birling let us explore the beach and the base of those cliffs. I could see why the place drew suicides, but that wasn’t on that day’s list of things to think about as I spread a rug on a patch of shingle so we could enjoy our picnic properly.

“What are we going to do if those gulls nick our sarnies?”

I waved at the ladder.

“Café up there, love”

“Well, you’re the climber, so…”

“Cheeky!”

There was a loud crack followed by a squeal further up the beach, and I spotted a family playing a sort of cricket with a flat piece of driftwood. Dad was wielding the ‘bat’ while a couple of children took turns at lobbing pebbles to him, each one being smashed out into the waves. Caro chuckled at the sight.

“If we have kids, don’t do it the other way round, or you’ll just get the stone whacked back in your face. Same goes for me, I suppose!”

The way her eyes lingered on the family game roused my suspicions, so I just left her to watch rather than reply, until I was as sure as could be.

“Caro?”

“Yeah?”

My mouth almost locked up, and I could hear Audrey’s voice in my head, damning my self-confidence.

“You… Is that… Would you want…”

Deep breath; try again.

“Thinking about going for one of our own, love?”

She sat in silence for about twenty seconds, before almost whispering her reply.

“Would bugger up weekends away, love. Need to fit a sidecar”

My heart was pounding, and all I could hear was Audrey damning our shared lack of any trust in ourselves.

“Caro? Love?”

Still that faint voice, still looking away from me.

“I know what you want to ask me, love”

“Already asked that one, haven’t I?”

“Nope. It’s the other question. You want to ask if I think you’d be a good Dad”

She turned her face back towards me.

“Honest answer, love? I can’t think of anyone who could be a better one”

Suddenly, she was laughing, and then we were kissing, and it was as right as anything could ever be, as her sense of humour came back.

“Not letting any other bloke have a go, am I? When do we start?”

I couldn’t let her have the last quip.

“How’s your calendar for about nine months from tonight?”

CHAPTER 12
That next morning will always be special to me. I woke to bright sunlight shining around the edges of the curtains and filtering through the material, Caro still burbling away in her sleep, the room ripe with the smell of our demonstration of parental intent the night before. I felt embarrassed as I imagined what the cleaners would make of the state of our bedding.

She woke as I kissed her, and I whispered that we really needed to shower before finding out whether the pub breakfast would be as tasty as the previous evening’s meal. Yes, we did end up showering together, but a rumble from my stomach drew attention away from naughtiness to nourishment. We were both in similar outfits of shorts, T-shirts and approach shoes, as the press called our footwear, so apart from a quick attack of her hair with towel and brush there wasn’t much to delay us.

A decent selection of cereals and juices awaited us, and from what we saw another couple digging into, the Full English would be a good one. A waitress delivered two steaming pots to our table, and after I had poured our first cups of tea, Caro popped the lid from the pot and went to pour in the extra hot water to top it up.

The extra hot water turned out to be coffee. As the waitress delivered a rack of toast, she looked at Caro, her hand still on said coffee pot, and sniffed.

“Just topped the tea up with the coffee, haven’t you?”

Caro was very, very pink, too pink to speak, it seemed, for she just nodded.

A sigh from our waitress.

“D’ya want coffee, tea or both?”

I smiled at her.

“We’re tea people, Miss”

“Tina, that’s me. Give me five minutes and you’ll have a fresh pot. Now, are you going for cooked stuff after your cereal? You have a choice of…”

A long list of ingredients followed, which seemed to give Caro time to recover her voice, for when the waitress looked at her, pen poised over her little notepad, my lover just said “Yes”

Tina’s eyebrows lifted, and as she looked at me, I simply shrugged and nodded.

“How do yer want yer eggs? Fried, poached or scrambled?”

We had no need for lunch that day, which we spent threading our way down through the maze of embankments and paths to Cuckmere Haven, where Caro went a little intense over some birds. Our pub was at the Birling end of the Seven Sisters, so my bike sat safely in the visitor centre car park while a very nice woman in the visitor centre looked after our riding kit and we walked free. I do not believe I had ever been happier than I was that day.

The slog up to the top of the first/last Sister left us sweating, but of course one of us had brought a flask, and we took some time sprawled on the close-cropped turf simply staring up into the huge blue bowl of the sky as gulls and loose children competed at which could scream the loudest. Despite the noise, I was absolutely at peace, neither of us seeming to feel the need to speak, perhaps in fear of breaking the spell that held us.

We had to move, in the end, after a huge number of photos had been seized, and as I took one of Caro staring out to sea through her binoculars, I was approached by a smiling middle-aged woman.

“Would you like a picture together, love?”

I nodded my thanks, and she dropped her voice to a whisper.

“You on honeymoon?”

“Pardon? Oh; no. Just happy”

“Long may that continue. So many smiles from you two, I just thought, you know”

“It’s that obvious?”

She chuckled, pointing out a group of rather noisy youngsters.

“If you two can lie all peaceful on the grass while my grandkids try and kill each other, then that’s special on its own. Which way do you want the shot?”

We faced south-east for the photo, and years later I was amused to see that the reverse view, from the Coastguard Cottages near Seaford, had become a ‘standard’ shot for everything from calendars through book covers to electronic computer wallpaper. Our own picture ended up enlarged and framed, and the older woman got a hug from each of us before she went back to rounding up her brood and Caro and I started towards the Campbell monument.

The bench there gave us a comfy spot to drink our second flask of tea, which set Caro giggling.

“Penny for them?”

“She’s not here, love!”

“You know what I meant”

“Ah, just thinking of another brew up, and state of this bench, well, it’s as bad as that shelter on Foel Grach”

“Scenery’s better there, though”

She turned almost serious.

“Not sure… Well, yes, I am, and you’re right, but this is different. Got its own grandeur, this place, and you don’t get fulmars in the Carneddau”

“You do get thieving bloody gulls, though”

“Fair point, fairly made, Mister R!”

“How could it not be, Mrs R”

I grinned at her, stupidly happy.

“Back to the bike by way of the valley or the South Downs Way?”

“Ah, stay high for a bit. Should pick up some passerines, and before you say it, different habitat to the flood plain”

“I love it when you get all serious”

“Bloody well hope so! And all the other times as well, I trust”

“Of course. Offski?”

“Offski”

The visitor centre had our kit, as well as a café, so we did the traditional thing of a cake stop before our ride back to the pub, where we took a slightly later evening meal as a result of the extra calories.

The next day gave us the usual choice of which side of London to ride round. Queue at Heathrow or queue at the Dartford Crossing? I opted for Dartford, as the other side of London always seems far worse to me, and in the end there were fewer dickheads than was usual for those toll gates, and once we were north of the river and the Southend traffic had peeled off, we made good time to my sneaky corner-cut along the A414 to the M1, the bike running like clockwork as the roundabouts on the shortcut gave me a chance to do some riding as opposed to the steady monotony of the motorway. It wasn’t long before I was settling the bike onto its centre stand in our garage as Caro set the kettle going along with the immersion heater for a proper soak in the bath—for her, naturally: I would make do with a shower.

There was a message waiting on our answer machine, from Keith. They would both be free Friday evening onwards, and did we fancy a walk out to the Village, and by Village, they didn’t care whether it was our one or theirs. I tossed a coin, which Caro took from me.

“Nope. No sofa for me. They can come over; I’ll change the spare bed on Thursday. Give them a shout and ask if they want to eat out or in. Oh; ask them who’s on in the folk club this week. Lost track, I have, with all that shagging”

As I picked up the phone, she grinned again.

“And NO, Mr R, do NOT tell them why I have lost track”

They weren’t in, so I left a message for them, and it was just after Caro and I had settled our freshly-bathed bodies under the duvet that the phone rang.

“Hiya, Mike! Sorry about the hour; we were up Eyam again”

“Anything decent?”

“Er, I led Long John’s and Pen did Sunset Slab”

“Bloody hell! Did she find any gear placements?”

“ER, no. I was crapping myself all the way up. Her way up”

“Keep her away from Sundowner, then”

“I was thinking more of the Etive Slabs”

“Of come on! Neither of you is that mad! Anyway, Caro is insistent that you two come over here, and we hit Cutenhoe. She’s being picky about sleeping in a bed again”

‘She’ managed to get a hand free to slap my bare arse, and as Keith laughed and made silly jokes about sado-masochism, we confirmed arrangements for the following weekend. A meal in one of the pubs to be followed by some liver damaging, Keith’s bike sleeping next to ours in our garage.

It turned into another great evening, as was to be expected when four good friends got together. Caro had slipped behind my back to give Auds and Alan a ring, so there were six of us, which made it an even better night, filled with bragging about grades and routes, none of it really serious.

At no point did either of us mention our decision. I think we both held a superstitious dread of naming a future that might decide to take another path. What we did do was agree to a joint trip up three weeks later, to the Dark Peak. Alan was clear about logistics.

“Me and Auds, got our car. We can squeeze most of the kit in, if you like, You four will be biking, won’t you?”

Keith simply raised his pint glass.

“That’s us, mate! Lean and efficient”

Auds snorted out a laugh.

“Yeah, as long as someone else carries all your kit!”

The plan worked well in the end, despite our less-than honest protests, and it became yet another ritual. We would camp at North Leas under Stanage, walking across field paths in failing light to Hathersage for the pubs, returning with the help of Petzl head torches, our days spent on steep, rough rock, with the exception of Caro, who would drift off onto the moor, surrounded by red grouse, meadow pipits, ring ouzels and god knew what else.

Life was bloody good. Suck that up, Derek and Simes!

CHAPTER 13
The year turned, the seasons shifted, and no doubt Doctor Derek and Mister Simes continued to fight for dominance in their bony cave. Caro and I simply carried on in that same traditional way, both of the clubs taking enough of our spare time to make life worthwhile in other ways.

Sundon and Cutenhoe continued to receive our custom when Keith’s shifts allowed, and our bikes and outdoor kit earned their keep. The climbing club’s Christmas dinner that year was in Langdale, a very decent spread put on by the Sticklebarn in Langdale, a row of holiday let cottages putting up our very motley crew and a minibus delivering us there. It was Winter, and we were in the Lake District, so the weather could fairly be described as ‘moist’. That didn’t really matter, for we had waterproofs along with a rather different approach to being out in the wet.

We bouldered on the rocks below Scout Crags, did a few easier ‘big boots routes’ on the crags themselves, and Caro and I spent a very wet day, even for the Lakes, walking up to Stickle Tarn and then down past Easedale Tarn to Grasmere and a solid pub meal before sod-it-we’ll-get-a-taxi back to our cottage and a shared hot shower. There was snow on the higher tops, but all we had was rain, thankfully without wind, and when the bus arrived back in Luton, almost everyone in it was asleep. Not my usual means of travel, but I was not complaining. I was home and dry, in both senses.

We had a night at the other club just before Christmas itself, which was entirely floor spots from members, with no paid guest artist. All the usual traditions were in place, such as silly Christmas jumpers in the worst possible taste, as well as a surprising quantity of food brought in my ourselves and other members. Penny surprised almost everyone by bringing in a real, and very solid, Christmas fruit cake, which didn’t last the first half of the evening before it was devoured. As the last slice disappeared, Pen leant over and whispered to Caro, who laughed happily, but it wasn’t until we were home that she showed me the package Pen had slipped to her.

“She made four cakes, lover mine. Said she was fully aware of the predatory appetites of our fellow lovers of traditional music”

“No she bloody didn’t say that!”

Another happy laugh, and she held up a hand.

“Guilty as charged. She actually said ‘I know what bloody gannets this lot are’. Four cakes, she said. One for us, one for Alan and Auds, one to keep at home”

Suddenly, she was completely serious, and I saw her insecurity asserting itself yet again.

“Love, what did we ever do to deserve such good friends? I mean, what did I do? You’re just you, just yourself, so yeah, that bit’s obvious. Just, well… Boy or girl, love? Which?”

Subject changed before I could reassure her, so I just went with the flow.

“Doesn’t really matter to me, love, as long as they’re healthy and happy”

“Yeah, but with a boy, you’d get the chance to take them climbing, teach them how to play football!”

“Football? Really?”

“Point made, yeah”

“And girls can climb as well. Don’t be sexist!”

Another grin.

“But you love it when I’m sexist! Well, something that starts with sex, and ---”

We didn’t get out of bed till after the following noon, and no, it was certainly not a waste of a day.

New Year was seen in at Keith and Penny’s, with just a few other friends, and then it was into the long grey weeks until the pussy willows started to bring a little hope to the world. We spent a few days in Capel Curig youth hostel, walking through the rain until it turned to snow at the higher levels, and on one horrible valley day we slogged up the CEGB road to the top of the Carneddau and out to the shelter on Foel Grach. Not only was it deserted that day, but the drift of snow against the door showed it hadn’t had a visit for some time. Even with our stove running to make a fresh brew, the inside was like an icebox. There similar conditions on Moel Siabod, when we went up to do some polybagging, and I almost broke a tooth trying to bite into a frozen Mars bar.

Bring on the better weather. We filled our time in other ways, which included the usual pedestrian excursions to Cutenhoe and Sundon villages.

We got so fed up with being locked in that we bit the bullet and endured the holiday traffic to spend Easter at North Leas. Keith was on the wrong shifts, so in the end it was just the two of us, joining Alan and Auds, who had made a longer stay by coming up the weekend before, as well as doing us a favour in carrying my climbing kit in their car. While three of us jammed our way up thug routes, or balanced across thin slabs, Caro walked the length of Stanage to the North, or south past Carl Wark and Higgar Tor past Millstone to Owler. The April weather was kind to us, and while the Little John was packed, they knew us and managed to find us somewhere to sit to tuck into their generous portions of tasty food.

The Popular End and Robin Hood area were heaving with group trips, all in identical helmets, queuing up Grotto Slab and Flying Buttress, so we ended up by High Neb, exploring routes that saw far less traffic, and avoided Froggatt and Birchen completely. One afternoon was spent on Higgar Tor exploring our personal pain limits, at least as far as shredded knuckles were concerned. It’s fifty-foot leaning block, the angle leaving to top overhanging the base by fourteen feet. Climbing is mainly by handjamming. The result should be obvious, which is why we left it to the very last day of our mini-holiday.

A last night in the Little John, and everything packed away. Alan came over as we struggled to get our tent into its bag.

“Mike, you doing anything else in the week?”

“Work, that’s all”

“Well, why don’t you leave your camping kit with us as well? Motorway’s going to be shit state, and filtering would be easier without so much luggage”

“You’re a star, Al! I can get all we need in the tank bag. What do you think, love?”

Caro grinned.

“No argument from me—more room to wiggle, no rucksack. Just make sure you keep the front door key, love. And the petrol money!”

The bike felt so much nicer as we made our way down towards Chatsworth, sure-footed on the bends and a delight to ride. We climbed onto the moor past the end of Chatsworth Edge, averted our eyes from the temptation of Birchen’s, and left the wildness behind as we entered the edge of Chesterfield. Brampton was as grim as ever, but we fought our way past the local traffic until we finally made the A617 and then the M1.

It wasn’t that bad in terms of traffic, apart from the usual bit near the edge of Nottingham, where everything slowed down. There was another hold-up as we hit the hill after Loughborough, lorries queuing in the middle lane to pass some old Commer van with a large trailer and a stacked roof rack as it ground up the slope.

I knew what was coming, so we took a break and a duel stop at Leicester Forest, Caro almost sprinting to the ladies while I ordered two teas and a couple of ‘two for the price of three’ sandwiches to tide us over until home. We had around seventy-five miles left, but that included the delights of the traffic arriving from the M6. We spent as much time stretching and relaxing as we could before Caro simply slapped my thigh.

“Let’s get it done, love, and bagsy the first bath!”

“Okay. I’ll just drain and then we’ll get rolling. We got any milk at home?”

“You go and pee, I’ll do the milk run. We need petrol?”

“Be a good idea. Not filling up, not at these prices”

“Get moving, then!”

I put a tenner’s worth into the tank before we rejoined the M1, and just as I expected, it wasn’t that long before we hit stationary traffic just before the two motorways merged. That was the bit I always hated, where there was a choice between filtering between the lanes of stationary cars and lorries, or sitting watching the engine temperature climb until the fan kicked in and blasted hot air over my legs.

Five miles of stationary or slow-moving lumps of metal, the occasional driver pulling to one side to let us through, along with others who did exactly the opposite. We were just coming up on some foreign-plated articulated beast when it happened.

It wasn’t one of the trailer tyres but one from the rear offside driving wheel, I saw it as it blew, and the chunk of rubber hit me full in the chest before I could do anything. The bike shimmied, and I only just managed to keep it upright as horns blared around me. I felt something missing, and reached behind me to check.

Caro wasn’t there.

CHAPTER 14
I managed to steady the bike enough to get it onto its sidestand, pain ripping into my chest as I did so. Something felt broken there, and I found my vision greying out as I struggled to get off. There was a lorry stopped just to my left, another pulled slightly away to my right, angled into traffic. I found myself falling, another agonising stab from my chest as I sat down hard on the tarmac. I really didn’t want to look behind me, but it had to be done. I had to know.

Caro was lying on her side immediately in front of yet another artic, her head resting on her left arm. She would have looked as if she was sleeping, if her right arm hadn’t been ticked far too tightly into the small of her back. There were chunks of tyre all around us, and horns were blaring everywhere. As I struggled to make sense of it all, the driver of the truck to my nearside clambered down.

“Fuck, mate! You okay?”

He turned to look behind me.

“Oh shit… Mate’s run off to the SOS phone, putting a call in for an ambulance. Stay down, mate. I… shit. Other bloke’s checking. Stay down”

I found the pain getting steadily worse, and as I slumped back onto the road, he grabbed my throwovers and stuck them under my head as a pillow.

“Caro… Carolyn. Wife. How’s…”

He was looking back towards her, and I can only guess that some signal was passed, because he winced.

“Mate…”

A deep breath.

“Sorry. Sorry”

Another pause, and then he tried to brighten up.

“Jim’s back, went for the phone call, yeah? Says ambulance and that on their way. No. Stay down. You’ve got blood on your lips, and I don’t like that”

Things went away just then, and when they came back, there was someone in a yellow jacket kneeling next to me.

“Hello love. Can you tell me your name?”

“Michael Rhodes. Mike”

“I’m going to move you in a minute. Not far, and I will warn you first. I’m Jenny Hinton, I’m a paramedic. Got my mate Sean with me. We need to undo your jacket to see what things look like. Can you handle a little bright light?”

I nodded, and she shone a little torch into each eye in turn.

“Reactive and equal, Sean. Mike? I need you to tell me if you are in pain. Zero for nothing, ten for really bad. Got me”

“Ten. Fucking ten!”

“Right. Going to need to move you, get you onto a backboard and a collar, and get that lid off”

“Caro? My wife?”

There was a little catch in her voice.

“Not just now, okay?”

I am pretty dure I passed out as they moved me, and when I came to, they had an oxygen mask on my face and a group of police and lorry drivers was around the board thing I was now on.

“Two three, lift!”

I swung a little as they moved me to the trolley, and then I was in the ambulance, my jacket having vanished somewhere, and there was the prick of a needle in my arm, and then it all went away properly.

Light, and that smell that said ‘hospital’. I had a drip in my arm, and a mask over my mouth and nose, and I hurt. As I stirred, a policeman, who had clearly been dozing next to my bed, jerked upright.

“Mr Rhodes?”

My answer was a little muffled, with the mask in place, so I nodded.

“Going to call a medic, Mr Rhodes. Don’t think the normal way’s going to work here. Hang on a second, please”

He left my little room, returning three or four minutes later, a nurse in tow as well as another copper.

“Mr Rhodes, I am really sorry about this, but because you have been in a road traffic accident, I am required to check if you have any impairment through alcohol. The thing is, with your injuries, I don’t think it would be appropriate to take a sample of breath”

“Injuries?”

The nurse fiddled with the drip.

“Fractured sternum and two ribs, and a damaged lung, Michael. Doctor will tell you more when he does his rounds, but you are doing well now”

The first copper nodded.

“Not right to make you blow into my little machine, Mr Rhodes. I simply need your permission to take a blood sample. Sorry for this bit, but a refusal to comply is an offence in itself, for which you may be arrested. I am also sorry for the next questions, but when did you last have a drink?”

“About ten last night. We only had a few, cause we were… I don’t drive or ride with a hangover”

“Thank you, and that is appreciated. Nurse here will take some blood, and then we are done”

“What about Caro? My wife?”

The second copper made a face, and my man shook his head.

“Mr Rhodes, I am PC 433 Ibbotson, traffic officer, just for reference. I’ll leave you a note with my details. I am with the Northants force. I am really sorry to have to tell you this…”

He was as kind as he could be, as kind as anyone could ever have managed, but there is nothing kind in such news, nor could there ever be.

I was released after far too long a stay, as my various fractures and wounds settled into ache rather than agony, but I had a bottle of oxygen in the house for quite a while before my lung was properly healed, and there was an inquest.

PC Ibbotson was there, a man who had taken the trouble to ring me at home to confirm that my blood sample had returned the result he had expected. Jenny my paramedic was there, along with Cam Mackie, who had been driving the wagon behind us, and still had nightmares where he hadn’t been able to stop, as he had managed. Jim, who had called the emergency services, said his bit, as did Neil Shepherd, his driver, whose tyre it was that had caused so much pain, and who broke down in the middle of his evidence.

The verdict was simple: misadventure. Accident. The doctor’s evidence was that she had sustained a broken neck and a dislocated shoulder, but he couldn’t be sure if the damage had been done before or after she had hit the road.

The coroner gave his verdict, expressed his sympathy, and I went home and lined up all my bottles of single malt after one look into our wardrobes.

Alan and Auds didn’t push to drop off our kit, and Keith and Penny popped in frequently enough to make sure I was eating, often actually bringing food and insisting on eating it with me. Once my lover’s body was released, it was the two of them who stirred me into organising her funeral, and by ‘stirred’ I mean they actually did most of the arranging off their own bat.

It wasn’t a big thing. We buried her in Stopsley, and what passed for a wake/reception, whatever the bloody term it is for an afternoon piss-up when the love of your life goes into the ground, was of course held in the Red Lion. I ended up at Keith and Pen’s, throwing up in the small hours into a bowl they had left by the sofa.

It took a long, longtime before I could function again, but my employers were diamonds, utterly unlike the shitfest that Derek/Simes would no doubt have gloried in unleashing. It was two months before Alan and Auds turned up at my door on a Saturday, pushed their way in and simply stuffed my harness and rock boots into a rucksack. Audrey was insistent.

“Change. Now”

I was shoved and tugged into their car, and to my surprise we set off south, around the M25 and past the Dartford crossing. Tonbridge, Tunbridge Wells, and finally into a carpark with a long stretch of tawny rocks that looked rather soft, like gritstone’s soppier brother. Alan turned in his seat.

“Needed to get you out, mate, but didn’t want to take you… Well, you understand. This is Bowles Rocks, pay to climb, and the rock is weird, but well, you understand. This is a day out, with an option to climb if you want. Otherwise, just sit in the sun with a cuppa, and we’ll climb. Now…”

He went through a recitation of local etiquette, largely based on the simple fact that the alleged rock was as soft as butter, so no gear, long extensions over the edge to avoid rope-cut grooves, bar towels to wipe sandy dust off holds, and so on.

Of course I climbed. What else could I do? There were very few jams, a lot of palming and friction moves, and everything was rounded, and as a result I found myself getting more and more absorbed in the physical poetry of climbing. It was weird rock; where I would have thugged a grit route, I had to pull back and use control and, to be honest, delicacy in some moves. I ended up really enjoying it, in a perverse way.

Gradually, then, I came out into the world again, and everyone seemed to be happy with that. I kept my own counsel, though, about the thing I had found in Carolyn’s…

That particular act very nearly broke me, clearing her clothes from our home. Some went to friends, most to charity shops, and throughout it all I felt a horrible and painful sense of finality. She was really dead, and that just confirmed it, as did the used pregnancy test kit in her bedside drawer,

Positive.

CHAPTER 15
That was when I nearly broke, but I had a long chat with myself. Stupid bloody thing to say, really, but while my thoughts were screaming and painful, there was a little voice underneath the agony whispering words of… What? Not solace; not comfort. Just words of sense and sentiment.

Carolyn had loved me, at least as much as I still loved her, and I had absolutely no doubts on that score. She was gone, and I took what solace, what comfort I could, in the fact that it had been so quick. To be honest, there was nothing better I could find to lift me from my bed, but in the end it was all I had, and it was enough.

My first day back in work was awful, every colleague avoiding my gaze as well as the subject. My first evening back at the folk club was much the same, at first, until ‘Graham Two’ did his floor spot. He was always an odd mixture, our second Graham, the sort of man who went to a singaround with a guitar, but his heart was there, and his introduction was to the point.

“Bit awkward for me, this, but I am looking over there at someone we have known for years, and he is hurting, and we all know why. I don’t do sensitive, you all know that. I usually don’t sing in tune, but, well. I’m going to do this song, and I hope Mike understands why I’ve chosen it. You all know it, so please join in, drown me out if possible. This is for Caro”

He looked at his guitar, then took it off and leant it against the wall, before starting to sing.

“The first time ever I saw your face…”

I wept, as did just about everyone else, but we raised our voices, and there were other songs before Graham One led us into ‘Chemical Worker’s Song’, and my glass kept refilling itself, and yes, I was absolutely bladdered, but when I woke on Pen and Keith’s sofa, I was starting to sort my life once more.

Caro had given me so much of that life, so it was never mine to throw away. I started pushing myself out of the door, and our walks to Sundon and Cutenhoe were central to my healing. I no longer had family, but I had true friends, and they had earned their returns.

I really needed to leave that town, though, and when Keith and Penny shared their own plans, I was fully with them.

It chimed so well with my own position, with my mood. Penny loved her man so much she had left him, and I realised that my love would have been at her side in every way. What else could I do other than take her place? Pen left, and in essence Keith and I were living together, shuffling from house to house as shifts, weather and pub choice dictated.

His questions about our hopes for kids opened so many wounds, but I clung to that newborn sense of love and friendship. They needed me, just then, even though Pen was hundreds of miles away. She would ring Keith every day, and how she juggled her life around his shifts would have impressed me if I hadn’t already understood what a formidable woman she was. My turn to step up and do what was required. I kept my answers to ‘smile and agree’.

I doubt very much they were surprised when I announced my own move to Sheffield, and Pen was cackling with glee, in the end.

“Bugger me, Mike, but if only you were still working for that bastard! The two of you could do a synchronised sod-you….”

She collapsed into even more raucous laughter, while Keith just held his hand out for the phone handset.

“I can hear the noise she’s making, mate, even from where I’m sitting. She’ll go on for ages like that. Let me deal with it”

And do it went, along with their house after a couple of false alarms, and my second-best friend was away to the hills. I spent a while explaining it all to Caro, as I set a small potted plant on her grave. No, I didn’t believe she could hear me, nothing like that; It was just that the simple act of talking helped me sort out my own mind, to set my chaotic thoughts into better order. I became moot, a little while later, and I was in Sheffield, as my own life moved on and my old one slept in a Stopsley cemetery.

That new life had its issues, of course, as Sheffield had and has its own, but Kul and the Gang (of course he called them that!) were almost always delightful, and the work challenging and rewarding. That last needs some explanation, for accountancy is usually considered to be one of the most boring professions the world has ever seen, a synonym for ‘grey’, but ‘accounting’ wasn’t exactly what we did.

I suppose the modern term would be financial, or perhaps business, ‘consultants’, for we did things beyond checking and submitting annual accounts or checking VAT records. We went into a small to medium-sized business, and looked holistically at what they did, how they did it, and what records they kept. It could be the simplest of advice to a one-man business, say the old ‘odd-year/even-year’ record system, right up to Kul’s speciality, which was the expanding world of computerised records, or Betty’s, which was the subtle, and occasionally far from subtle, art of getting debtors to pay their bills.

I was immensely gratified to discover that there were two folk clubs within easy reach of my new home, one of them actually in Crookes, so another segment of my new life settled itself into place, and both Kul and his boy were more than happy to share their car with me for regular trips to visit the Hiatts. I asked Kul about that once, and only once. We were sitting in a Little Chef or Happy Eater or whatever, somewhere near Chester, grabbing a cuppa before the last run into the hills.

“Not wanting to head over to Leicester, see the family, at the weekend?”

Kul looked to Dal, who just shrugged a clear message of ‘Your tackle’. The man grimaced.

“What do you know about Leicester, Mike?”

“Been past it on the M1, on the way to the Peak. That’s about all”

“Well, let’s just say it’s another town that starts with an ‘L’, but this one rhymes with ‘fester’. Me and the missus brought the lad over here for much the same reasons you moved. We do the family thing now and again, but not that often. Me and this one, we spend, used to spend most of our time in the Peak, but then there’s you come along, and suddenly we’ve got free digs in the middle of real mountains! Win all round, we say”

Dal held up a hand to shush his father.

“Not really like he says, Mike. I know for a fact he’s tried to pay Penny and Keith for the stay, but they just ignore him, or tell him not to be silly. It’s why he’s grabbed the bill for so many meals over there. Doesn’t like to be beholden to anyone, my Dad”

Kul shook his head.

“Not what I think, son, not now, anyway. You have good friends there, mate. Thank you for sharing them”

The rest of the drive went quickly, but still too slowly, as I strained for the first sight of familiar hills. Down the coast road, with a slight twinge at the signpost for Aber Falls, then loop across smaller roads to pick up the A5, and finally, that time in the rain again, park up by the bunkhouse. It was quite busy that weekend, Keith cleaning out a shower stall as we walked in.

“Hiya, you lot. Can you go to the house for now? Pen’ll sort you out a cuppa. Got some mixing and matching of bed spaces just now; the rain’s brought a few of the campers in. If you leave your bags here, I’ll sort”

A knock on the front door was answered by a waddling woman, showing in all the traditional ways.

“Croeso, y bechgyn! [Lots more Welsh]. Tea’s hot; can one of you pour while I sort some snacks?”

She reached gingerly into a cupboard for some small plates, then a biscuit tin, leaving Dal to sort the drinks as she led us into the living room. There were extra cushions on her chair, along with a pillow, and a small rucksack leaning against the wall by the door. She caught my gaze.

“Grab bag, love. I should be dropping any time now. Nansi’s already done so”

Kul grinned.

“And?”

“Boy. Eight pounds four ounces. Calling him Dafydd Iestyn”

“Nice! What are you hoping for?”

Pen grinned.

“Healthy and happy, that’s all we want. Everything else is secondary. Now, other stuff. I am not going climbing with anyone…”

It was another good weekend, and the club was as fun and friendly as ever, but oddly, there was no sign of the miserable ginger fiddler. I found myself chatting to Illtyd at one point, because of course he simply settled at our table without asking, so I asked.

“Odd, Mike. Not seen him in ages, and he’s not been down the Bryn, which is his usual place to get pissed at. You never know; he might have succeeded”

I looked at him hard for a second, and he shrugged.

“You don’t think he had a death wish, ah? Amount of booze he put away?”

I had a flashback to that day we had watched him soling what I remembered as a thin and polished crux move, and shuddered. Illtyd took another slurp of his beer.

“Regular visitor, older woman, Pat, aye?”

“I know her”

“Aye. Well, she sometimes has a friend with her. Tall woman, hard-faced as anything. One winter, it was a hard one. That Steve Jones, he’d walked down here from Emlyn’s place, so a couple of us had a word with the two, that’s Pat and hatchet-face, and they gave him a lift back. Way the weather was, state he was in, he’d not have managed. Mike?”

“Yes?”

“He might be a miserable pisshead, but I don’t feel there’s any harm in him. This is my serious head on, ah? Be a shame if that’s it, lights out, but, that’s the way he’s always been heading. Just hoping he’s stopped coming for better reasons”

Those thoughts stayed with me all weekend, as we laughed and joked, and penny complained that she already had lousy bladder control because of her passenger, so STOP MAKING HER LAUGH.

Four days after we left Bethesda, that passenger disembarked safely. Seven pounds nine ounces, and her name was Enfys.

I was very, very drunk that night, and it was something I did at home and alone.

CHAPTER 16
I left it a fortnight before I next rode across to Bethesda, on the simple basis that not only would things be a little hectic there, but that the two of them---no, three of them now---might want or need some privacy. Family time.

I went over eventually, of course, with a present of a plush stuffed narwhal in deference to an old sequence of jokes in the climbing club back in That Place.

Enfys turned out to be a greedy little bundle, multiply wrapped, clamped to Penny’s chest, and I almost lost my parental urges until I watched the way her hands opened and closed on her mother’s breast, and the intimacy and need took my soul from me. I had to take a walk outside, the mountains a darker stain in the starry blackness of a rare clear Bethesda night. I found a wall to sit on as I struggled to bring my thoughts down to a reasonable level.

I couldn’t hate that driver, for I had met him, and I knew that he would carry Carolyn at least as long as I would. Who, in the end, could I blame?

“You alright, mate?”

Keith had settled onto the wall next to me as I had disappeared into the shitty morass of my life. He reached across and, to my surprise, took my hand.

“I don’t know if this is the right thing to say, just now… but I know. Caro spoke to Pen, before, yeah? Before… Fuck. Don’t get me weepy, mate. Caro… It was a big thing for her, being so…”

He stopped talking for a few minutes before pointing upwards.

“Clear skies here, Mike, when it isn’t raining. Stars. Planets. Being able to see other things we could never have done in That Place. Caro… Mike? She really loved you, but all that crap with her, not good enough for you, yeah? She needed approval, assurance that she wasn’t reading it wrong. Wishful thinking”

“But I told her, so many times…”

“I know, mate. I know. Two of you with the same blinkers on, both with the same fears. What she asked, told Pen, it was so typical of her. If it was anyone else, I’d be using words like ‘stupid’, but that wasn’t it. She wanted to know… Pen says Caro asked if she thought she could ever be a good mother. If Pen thought Caro could be, I mean. Just so unsure of herself”

He gave my hand another squeeze.

“Two of you the same, Mike, and what I saw, well, you’d both make amazing parents. Shit. Would have… sorry. Look, what do you think me and Pen know about it? Or Nansi and Vic? All parents have to find their way, even with all the books and that. What you can do now… What you need to do now is live the best life you can. Confirm what Caro thought of you”

He sat for a while in silence, then rose.

“Putting the kettle on, Mike. Cuppa?”

“Yeah, go on”

“What are you up to tomorrow? Got some stuff I really need to do at the bunkhouse, otherwise I’d come out with you”

“Well, Pen can’t, can she?”

He chuckled.

“Well, your arse will go to sleep if you sit there much longer. See you in a couple. I know how you take it”

He ambled off, and when I joined him in the house, the subject wasn’t mentioned again, although I am sure Penny had been brought up to speed by Keith. Men’s way of sharing, I suppose. I knew, and I suppose always had, that he cared, but gushing wasn’t the Manly Way. He knew, as did I, as did Pen. That was all that mattered.

I didn’t sleep that well, but the day dawned clear, so I packed my basics for a day in the Valley. I parked the bike in front of Dafydd and Dennis’ tea kiosk, leaving my lid and gloves with them and setting off for the walk up into Cwm Idwal. My mind was still restless, still running over things again and again, which was why I hadn’t been able to sleep. The more tired I got, the more the thoughts surged forward, in a nasty feedback loop that drove rationality away. I was at the gates by the lake before I knew it, and then, of course, at the foot of the Slabs. Bugger it: stick the climbing boots on, hang the approach shoes from my chalk bag’s belt, and solo some of the lower stuff. Run up Ordinary, slither up Charity, bounce up Hope, hop up the opening groove of Tennis Shoe to the top of that first little pinnacle before…

I was cruising up the easy slabby bit, working over to the final tower, perched boulder above me, sloping slippery foothold only letting me stay on when I found the little two-dinger pocket for my right hand to unload my feet just enough..

What the fuck was I doing?

I held the rush of shock and realisation and channelled it into as smooth a surge onto the summit as I could manage, the drop down Suicide Wall seizing my attention as I sprawled on the flat rock while the shakes took me. Idiot! The same place Kul, Dal and I had watched that Steve Jones climbing unroped, and he was an idiot, and I was…

As my heartrate slowed, I slithered down onto the safer ground behind the tower while I waited out the shakes.

I could so easily have died just then. Climbing is a game of risks, of course, but it is all about mitigating the dangers. Use ropes. Place runners. Do it with a partner. Drop the grade right down when soloing. Severe was well within my abilities, of course, but that move was exposed and bloody polished, and a long, long way up, and I was absolutely on my own. I scanned the Slabs to my left, noticing a couple of people clearly staring at me. I gave them a little wave of reassurance: no I’m not mad, just doing some easy stuff, nothing to worry about, and after a few more minutes of sitting on the little patch of grass I heard voices from behind the tower.

“Watch me, it’s fucking polished. Feet are going to go…”

Deep breath.

“Hi; I’m just behind the tower. Want a hint?”

“Fucking aye, whoever you are! Bit gripped here!”

“Okay. See a recess above your head?”

“Yes. All flared, though”

“Feel around to the right. Small pocket, two fingers”

“To the right… you fucking beauty! Got me, Hal?”

Another voice, from further down.

“Aye aye!”

“Going for it… fuck fuck fuck YES!”

A bright orange Joe Brown helmet appeared above the perched boulder, underneath it a panting man in his forties. He half-rolled onto the top of the lump, clutching tightly to the edge, before calling out “SAFE!”

He spotted me and grinned, nodding his thanks.

“Hang on while I set up a belay---shit, that’s a long way down. Be with you in a minute”

He put in something like five anchors, spending a long while arranging clove hitches and such before settling himself back on the boulder, calling to me over his shoulder, “I’m John, Hal’s my second. ON BELAY!”

“Aye aye!”

I raised a hand.

“Mike”

“Pleased to meet you, Mike. And relieved”

We both waited for the obligatory sequence to run its course: “Take in”, “That’s me”, “Climb when ready”, “Climbing”, before John started talking to me again.

“You done that one, then?”

“Few times”

“Traversed in from the finishing ledge?”

“Er, yeah”, I lied.

“That’s as polished as they say the Twin Cracks are, but if you fall off them, the book says you just land on a massive ledge. That bit, fuck. Straight into fresh air. Didn’t expect that on a Diff”

I had a sudden suspicion.

“What route are you doing?”

“Ordinary”

“That’s…”

“Yeah. Up the groove thing”

“It’s actually up a much deeper groove thing”

“There was a gully up the slab, but that’s just a stream”

“That’s just the route you wanted. That was Ordinary”

John paused as he brought his second across, prompting a complaint of “Take in!” from below us.

“Shitting hell. Sorry, but what route is this?”

“Tennis Shoe. Severe; that bit was 4b, though I think, with the polish, it’s more like 4c, and I would give the finish HS”

“Fuck! I’ve only ever led V Diff up to now”

The voice below was closer, and John murmured “Don’t tell Hal till he’s up, okay?”

I agreed, and then John talked an obviously terrified second through the moves over the crux, his manner so much more composed than he had been with me. I was impressed, and when Hal finally appeared, John sent him straight past the belay to join me on the grass. Hal proved to be another middle-aged gent, in my youthful opinion, with the remains of what looked like two black eyes, and for safety’s sake, I set up a belay for him from the gear he had collected on the way up, while John moved back himself to the safer ground, where he coiled the rope without untying, before disassembling his bomb-proof collection of anchors.

“Hal, this is Mike. He’s come in the easy way, and I am sure he knows the way off this place, he remarked knowingly”

I waved, feeling silly.

“Er, yes. It’s up, though. Easy scrambling now”

Hal looked to John.

“Will we need to pitch it, lo—John?”

Ah. I hadn’t met that many queers back then, but it wasn’t a problem for me. It was a little while before I learned better terms for them, though. John’s face twitched at his second’s slip, before he asked me what I thought. I shrugged.

“How much climbing have you done, the two of you?”

John smiled.

“Don’t know if you’d call it climbing. We use an indoor wall, but we live in Crowborough”

“Where’s that?”

“South of Tunbridge Wells. Got some climbing near us”

My mood broke, and I found myself laughing.

“I went there once! All soft sandstone”

Hal looked up at that.

“Where did you go?”

“Somewhere called Bowles, if I remember right”

“Ha! That’s just down the road from us. Where we do our climbing”

John barked out his own laugh.

“Compared to this it’s not real climbing. What grade’s this scramble then, mike?”

“Really easy. Well, I think so”

“Then here’s a suggestion, if you don’t mind. If you show me the way, I’ll just tow the rope up, and Hal can follow after the first rope’s length. See how comfortable he is, then we can decide if we need the rope or not”

“Fine by me!”

I led him up the first hundred and fifty feet of the scramble, chatting away as we went, and he did seem comfortable with the moves. We set up a belay as the rope ran out, and Hal fairly flew up, so the rest of the ascent was done unroped. When we came to the tricky and polished bad step down to the footpath, I went down first to talk him through the moves, and then we sat down together as all three of us changed footwear, which was one thing they had definitely both got right.

“Mike?”

“Yes, John?”

“Please tell Hal what you told me”

“Ah. Right. That route wasn’t actually Ordinary, mate. It’s called Tennis Shoe”

Hal was shaking his head.

“You never could read a map… John. What grade, Mike?”

“Um, overall is a Severe, but some people give the final pitch an HS”

“Oh dear… Tech grade? We only use tech grades in Sussex”

“Was 4b, but once again, with all the polish, some people give it 4c”

“I’ve… My hardest so far at Bowles was 3b. Oh my”

He took some deep breaths.

“Well, shall we get down? Tea won’t drink itself. You coming down as well, Mike?”

I nodded.

“Not got any tea with me; I was going to get some from the place by the car park. Not got a mug with me”

“Don’t worry about that; each of our flasks has two cups with it. Off we jolly well et cetera. Oh: any more tricky bits on the way down?”

“Nope. Just this sort of path”

“Fine!”

We shuffled down the gravel track, settling ourselves onto some of the boulders at the foot of the Slabs as John poured a welcome hot drink for each of us. I pointed out the glaringly obvious gully-line of the Ordinary Route. John was pensive.

“We thought that looked too easy by far. We did some stuff in the Peak District before. That was my hardest lead till now”

“Which route?”

“Flying Buttress, at Stanage”

“Lovely route. Explains how you managed those finishing moves today”

Hal laughed out loud.

“Now I know it’s no comparison, and today was a lot higher than at Stanage, but that move on Flying whatever felt just as high. Once I’d done it, I mean. Couldn’t really see anything but the rock and holds and stuff while I was doing it”

I took a sip of my tea, then waved at the rock.

“Focus. Keeps you safe. Now, what other routes do you fancy?”

John looked hard at me.

“We haven’t got another rope or harness, and from the size of your bag there, neither have you. What routes do you suggest?”

“Well, given that you’ve just done a Severe, there’s one you’ve already mentioned”

Hal smiled at that.

“The book really praises Hope. Where is it?”

I pointed to the starting slab and following groove.

“That’s it there. If you don’t mind, I’d climb it beneath John, unless you want to lead it”

Hal shook his head.

“Not my job! You’ll be okay without a rope?”

I nodded, and John grunted.

“You didn’t traverse in from the belay ledge, did you?”

I found my face warming, so ducked my head as I shook it. John sighed deeply, then began gearing up.

“Let’s do this thing, then!”

He proved to be a steady and plodding leader, but his runners were bomb-proof, and he managed the Twin Cracks at his first attempt, unlike me. He fairly cruised my favourite corner pitch, as did Hal, and once again there was the up-and-down of the descent, the two dispensing with the rope that time. The day was moving on, though, so we decided together that we would pack up, and a slow amble brought us back down to the car park. As Hal loaded their gear into the boot of their car ready for their departure to the Pen y Pass hostel, John had a quiet word with me.

“Please don’t take offence, Mike, but I know you heard Hal slip up. Yes: we are. Is that a problem for you?”

I shook my head.

“Your business, not mine”

“You noticed the bruises as well, I saw”

“Yes”

“That’s from some skinheads. Queerbashing. That is why we are out here doing the fresh air shit, trying to get him happier and me less angry”

I nodded.

“Makes sense to me”

“Yeah… I sort of suspect it’s the same with you. Not being, you know, but…”

He looked around for eavesdroppers once again.

“Whatever’s hurt you, please don’t let it kill you”

CHAPTER 17
I rode back in a state of hyper-awareness, my mind locked on memories of a miserable ginger bastard high on the Slabs.

What the fuck had I been doing? What on Earth would the police have said to Keith and Pen? I pulled over halfway down the long road to Bethesda, by the old ruin, and sat the bike, thighs threatening to cramp as I tried to force some sort of sensible interpretation into my head.

‘What had I been thinking?’ was the obvious question, quickly answered by the twin revelations that (a) I hadn’t actually been thinking, and (b) that there hadn’t been any obvious difference between my own thought processes and those I presumed that miserable ginger sod had experienced.

Idiot.

I popped the side stand down and slithered off the bike, turning to look back up towards the looming bulkiness of Y Garn and Tryfan, the Slabs well-hidden from my view. I could still feel that space under my feet as I had soloed the final tower on Tennis Shoe, and suddenly I was shaking in a mixture of relief and the fear that hadn’t made itself manifest as I had done the moves. Keith and Penny, indeed, as well as a little girl who I had yet to meet in any meaningful way. The sudden tears were no surprise, but the raw sobs were. The feelings of loss, though, they would always be there.

It took a few minutes, but finally I found a safer state of mind for riding, and set off back to the bunkhouse, where I took a shower in order to wash away the fear-sweat and give me an excuse for my face.

Yeah, got shampoo in my eyes, that’s why they’re so red…

Keith had got some beers in for the evening, as the pub was a bit out of the question for the new arrival, and as Pen sipped her own pint, I found myself laughing. She paused mid-sip.

“What?”

“Oh, just my warped sense of humour!”

“Yeah, nothing new there, is there? And I’m just having the one”

“Yeah, well; thinking about the littl’un. What with her drinking from you, while you drink Marston’s, I was wondering if the taste gets passed on. Get her used to drinking the real stuff before she even cuts a tooth”

“Yup. Warped as ever, [something in Welsh]”

“Eh?”

Pen shrugged as well as she could manage, with a glass in one hand and an infant in her arms.

“We decided we would start her in the local language rather than English, Mike. This is… We’re cutting off that other place as much as we can, because this is our home, now. This is going to be our daughter’s home, and we will give her as good a start as we can, as many ways to fit in as possible”

Keith was nodding along.

“That’s the key here, Mike. We aren’t natives here. We never will be. But if we show enough respect to the place, then Enfys has that opportunity.”

He looked at his glass.

“Maybe I’ve had one too many of these, but it was just one of those thoughts you get. This isn’t our world, mate, but somewhere we hold in trust for our kids. Our responsibility not to leave it in shit state”

That cut me less than it might have done, probably because Enfys was there with us. My ride back to Sheffield the next day wasn’t as frantic as it might otherwise have been, and for a few days I was able to lose myself in work rather than brood. I decided to stay off the ale for a while, as I spent what would have been pub hours straightening my own head out.

Penny had shown the depth of her love for her husband with her ultimatum, and that could so easily have been my own situation, mine and my wife’s. Things had happened. Things would always happen, for that was how the world worked, but I didn’t have to live in thrall to them, dance to their tune. The pain and loss I felt each day wouldn’t leave me, as I knew full well, unless I did something even more stupid than those moves at the top of the Slabs, but that option--- well, a world held in trust for a tiny bundle.

I still found myself weeping some evenings, at stupid things like songs on the radio, words in a newspaper or book, or even just the sound of birdsong that Caro had taught me to recognise and name, but that was done alone, in private; just for the two of us.

As the months flew by, my little girl became far more real, rather like the myth that bear mothers literally licked their cubs into shape. Her first smile purely for me stole my heart, confirming my choice to stay with the world, and as months became years, she became a human being, a personality showing itself in a mix of laughter and acute stubbornness. I read later that while the first word for many children is the obvious ‘Mam’, the second and third ones are often ‘Mine’ and ‘NO!’. Enfys was most definitely in that camp, in one sense, but the words that she used were the Welsh versions.

I was never good with the language, but I did my best to learn a few phrases, recognise the words that are important to little people, and as night becomes day, so I became ‘Unca Mike’ and she became ‘The Carrier of Gloves’ whenever I arrived on my bike, the formal handing over of which was always preceded by her demanding a sit on the bike so she could pretend to ride it.

We did get down the pub, along with Vic, Nansi and their own ‘Davvy’, as I heard it, who was a lot quieter than Enfys but more than happy to play with her. Kul and Dal were also regular visitors, and it was after one of the folk club nights that Kul mentioned something I had missed as I had doted on the two kids. We were all in the bunkhouse having a mug of hot chocolate each before turning in.

“Not normal, that. I don’t meant that: more not typical, yeah?”

“Sorry, what’s not normal?”

“The kids, Mike. Didn’t mean it in a bad way. Wrong word choice. What I mean is… Dal?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Remember Mr and Mrs Handknit?”

“Oh! At that Martin Simpson evening?”

I was impressed at the lad’s musical knowledge yet again, and Dal took over.

“It’s a couple we’ve seen a lot, at concerts. They come in a great big Rover, three and a half litre thing, but they’re all patchwork trousers and floppy jumpers and pewter tankards hanging from their belts. Posh as posh, they are, but they do the whole folky thing”

Kul snorted.

“Overdo it, in my view. Tell them about the concert, son”

“Oh, yeah. They brought their kid, about two years old. Tou heard of Martin Simpson, Mike?”

I laughed out loud.

“Just slightly, lad! Go on”

“Yeah, well, this kid, it just wouldn’t shut up. All ‘Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!’. I thought Mr Simpson was going to get up and smack them, or at least say something. I would have. That what you meant, Dad?”

Kul nodded.

“Yup. Just that. These two, Enfys and Davvy: they just listen, like really listen, when the music’s on. Never shut up the rest of the time, but all attention to the music. Don’t know how their parents have managed that. I couldn’t, not with this one, anyway”

“Dad! I’m not like that!”

Kul turned a very obvious Dad Stare onto his son.

“Lad, you sometimes even think you can sing. You not hear the stampede when people see your mouth opening?”

“You are a right sod sometimes, Dad!”

“I am indeed, son. All part of the valuable lessons I impart to my offspring in order better to equip him to navigate the perilous and uncertain squalls and tempests of---”

“And you talk an awful lot of rubbish as well!”

As they continued their sparring, I found myself laughing so hard I spilled some of my hot chocolate, my choice to stay with the world so utterly and completely the right and proper thing.

CHAPTER 18
I was on another trip out to Bethesda around two years later when I got a serious surprise. The way time was flying was more than enough of a shock to start with, but then I was getting used to that as both Enfys and little Davvy seemed to change markedly on a weekly basis.

Kul and his boy were unavailable that weekend, so it was just me who loaded the bike for the run up to the bunkhouse. The forecast wasn’t the greatest, but I didn’t care. Sheffield was fine in its own ways, and the climbing was perfect for a thug like me, but I had always been a sucker for the call of real mountains.

The ride across wasn’t too bad, although my gloves were dripping, and I stood beside the bike as it ticked its heat away, stretching my back after I had doffed my lid and unzipped my jacket. Keith was there in a few minutes to help dump my bedding in the dorm, and then Penny with my little girl.

“Hiya, Enfys! How’s you?”

“Unca Mike! Menig! Got losyn?”

I knew both of those words, and shook my head as I handed her my soaked gloves for the ritual.

“Sorry, love. Not this time”

“No! Got losyn! Me!”

I realised she was waving a bag of jellies at me, and mentally slapped myself.

“What’s best?”

She said something I couldn’t follow, and Pen called out, “She says the coke bottles are the best, Mike”

I dipped a hand into the bag, only taking one ‘bottle’ so that Enfys could have more of what she liked, and after she had trotted off with my gloves, I raised an eyebrow to my friend.

“You all living totally Welsh now, then?”

She shrugged, said something else in Foreign, and grinned.

“Got to be done, love. Leaving the L-place well behind, like we said”

I laughed and shrugged simultaneously.

“Best thing to do with the place. Be a bit antisocial to nearby towns to nuke it. Anyway, what plans do we have? Getting a bit wet for serious stuff”

“Ah, club tonight, then see what the morning brings. Keith fancies a trip to Tremadog if it’s wet up here. Tends to stay drier down there. If it stops up here, he fancies exploring Craig Aderyn”

“Where’s that one?”

“By the hydro pipe down from Cwm Dyli. Bit obscure, but supposed to be a nice slab. Now, Enfys wants to help you lay out your bag”

Before I could argue, she held up a silencing hand.

“When children offer to help, best let them. Anyway, I do believe we may have a surprise for you tonight”

“In what way?”

“Wait and see, you impatient bugger. Enfys! [Welsh stuff]”

That summed up so well her utter commitment to making a new life for what was now a true family, and I had a sudden moment of utter loss. Despite her confidence issues, in the end my Caro had been at least as strong, in her own way. Hold it together, lad. You’re in company.

Tea was already brewed, and Enfys offered me the biscuit barrel, needing both hands to hold it. I had a sudden thought.

“Keith?”

“Yes, mate?”

“Folk club tonight?”

He nodded.

“As Pen and I really fancy a decent pint tonight, and we assume you do, it’s going to be too late for her and Davvy, so this time we’ve got a babysitter due, local girl. That’s who the other biccies are for”

“What other biccies?”

“The ones Enfys didn’t offer you because she’ll be eating half of them herself, no doubt. Anyway, Galadriel will do the two of them the pizzas we’ve left in the fridge, and we can eat at the Cow”

“Galadriel? Really?”

It was Keith’s turn to shrug.

“We did say this place was a sort of hippy colony. Her middle name’s even worse, so don’t ask”

I shook my head, settling into one of the armchairs, quickly gaining a passenger as Enfys clambered up into my lap for a cuddle, still clutching her bag of sweets, but thankfully without my gloves. Pen called out in more Welsh, from which I picked out the words ‘losyn’ and ‘pizza’. That exchange at least I could work out: if you don’t put the sweets away, you’ll get no pizza.

The bag went into a drawer, a little girl went upstairs for ‘Jimjams’, apparently the same term in Welsh, and I popped out to switch from leathers to jeans. When Galadriel turned up, she was reassuringly normal, bringing with her a small backpack of homework. After a quick confirmation of what was clearly the ‘usuals’, once again in Welsh, we each hugged Enfys in turn before setting off for the Cow. Keith matched his steps to mine.

“Got a surprise for you this evening”

“Penny said. Hint would be nice”

“Nope. Just asking you to keep an open mind. I know that’s who you are, what you are. Pen and I have some new friends, that’s all. And that is actually the real reason we haven’t got the kids with us”

I had to laugh at his comment about friends, as I had met so many of them the first time I had come up, along with Kul, his boy and a truckload of furniture, and Keith clearly read my mind.

“No. Not quite like that. You’ll understand when we get there, but this time, tonight… Just go with the flow for now, please”

“Got me worried now, mate”

“Ah, nothing to worry about, really. Just play nicely. Hiya, Nansi! [Welsh stuff]”

Nansi finished locking her door, smiled at me and wagged a finger at Keith.

“Babysitter’s with him. And I know this one, and I also know he’s linguistically challenged, so stop showing off. Hi, Mike. Your mates not with you this time?”

“Not this time, no. Kul’s got some big family thing on over in Doncaster. Something about feeding folk. They all get together and set up a sort of Sikh soup kitchen for the homeless. Or is that a curry and samosa kitchen? Anyway, busy. Just me this time”

“And you brought the rain. Very uncivil of you”

I spotted the twitch to her lips just in time, and she waved a hand at Keith.

“Vic’s down the Cow already sorting a table for us, which was what Mister Practise-my-Welsh over there was asking. Gets busy on a club night, especially if you want to eat”

We carried on down the hill to the pub, and yes, Vic was there at a table, the bar meals menu to hand. Illtyd was at the bar, Owen behind it, and everything suddenly felt familiar and comfortable. I hadn’t known these people that long, in real terms, but they seemed to have taken me as I was. More importantly, despite the reputation of that area, they had welcomed my friends. Illtyd said something in Welsh to Keith, whose answer contained the word ‘Galadriel’, and Illtyd performed a classic eye roll before turning back to me.

“At least you have a sensible name, Mike. Could almost be Welsh, ah? Anyway, I’d go for the steak and kidney pie tonight. Good, it is. Floor spot? Me that’s doing the compere thing tonight, it is”

“Got room for a song or two? I doubt you’ll have heard them, but good chorus stuff. Industrial songs, er, ah?”

“Second half, then. Let you fill your face first. Guest’s another English fiddler”

“Thanks”

I went for the pie, as advised, and in a moment of instant generosity I paid for all five meals. Sod it: the Hiatts were doing all the rest of my food for the weekend, as well as giving me a bed and occasional loan of a little girl (return unbroken, in original packaging if possible), so it was nothing over the top. I was indeed feeling relaxed, and the first pint of Robinson’s helped.

The first floor spots went down just as well as the pint and the food, and it wasn’t until the third performer that I realised we still had two spare seats at our table, a couple of raincoats laid over the backs to mark them as taken, rather like the proverbial German beach towel. Just before the guest was due on, a short and very fit-looking man put his hand on one of the chairs.

“These ours, Keith?”

“Yes, mate. You lost her?”

“Nope, just her usual silliness with pots of tea. She’s in the ladies’. Anyone need a refill?”

Keith raised his almost empty glass.

“Popes and bears? Who’s driving?”

“Can we be cheeky tonight?”

Pen snorted with laughter.

“You parked there already?”

“Er… yeah. Couldn’t agree whose turn it was to be designated driver, especially with who’s playing. Too cheeky?”

She grinned.

“Don’t be silly. Now, don’t think you’ve met Mike, our friend from that place we lived…”

“…that mustn’t be named?”

“That’s the one. He’s moved away, though. Now lives in Sheffield”

“Oh! Bloody good climbing there, lucky man. We’re stuck in Surrey, near Gatwick. Anyway, drinks?”

We gave him a list, and as he went over to the bar, I realised I hadn’t caught his name. I looked back to the table just as Penny’s gaze lifted and a smile broke out.

“Here she is! Hiya, you, and yes he has asked, and you already know the answer, so he’s getting you a pint”

I was sat in front of a pillar, which made it difficult to turn, but I managed it just as a long arm placed a fiddle case onto the table, and a tall woman settled into one of the two seats.

Woman. Or not. My mind was screaming in confusion. Tall; ginger pony tail. Fiddle.

On the other hand, breasts. More importantly, a smile that reached eyes and voice.

Penny made the introductions, properly this time.

“Mike Rhodes, one of our best mates. Best mate indeed, when we all lived in That Place That Begins With An L. Mike, these two are Steph and Geoff Woodruff, and all the jokes have already been made”

I looked sharply at Keith, and he nodded back, just as sharply.

“Yes, mate. Same person. How’s it go, Steph? Same person, just better understood?”

She nodded, just as sharply.

“Aye, exactly. Mike, you have an odd expression on your face, so I am going to make an unnecessary guess. You met me before? Oh, thanks, love. Need this”

‘Geoff’ was handing out the drinks, and I turned slightly to accept mine, my eyes having temporarily lost the battle to correlate sight and memory. I took a long drink from my pint as Geoff slid onto the seat next to… her, casually draping one arm over… her shoulder as he raised his glass.

“Cheers, all! We ate at the tent, but we’ve got a load of extra brekkie stuff for the morning. Not a veggie, are you, Mike?”

“Er, no. Um”

“Ah. How do you know my lovely wife here? Nothing to worry about; just like the air clear”

I took some slow breaths as I worked on my perceptions.

“I remember seeing her here a few times. Climbing and fiddle playing”

He gave his… My mind clicked into gear. I had managed with John and Hal, and I was a bloody adult, after all. He gave his wife a quick look, and me a quick “Ah”, before she started her own explanation.

“Back before we met then, love. Told you what I was like back then, didn’t I?”

As he grimaced and nodded, she turned directly to me, her eyes startlingly green, with brown centres, but clear and in the there-and-then rather than the thousand yard and year stare I had seen in the past.

“Mike, I was in a very bad place back then. Did some stupid things. Got drunk a lot”

I found myself getting angry, for some reason.

“Stupid things like soloing Tennis Shoe when probably still pissed from the night before?”

She reached up to take Geoff’s hand, holding it to her shoulder, murmuring a reassurance to him.

“Yes. Bloody stupid things. All in the past now. All I needed to do was find someone to help me see the way out, and I was very, very lucky there. And no: it wasn’t Geoff, but he was there for me just when I needed him. Now, don’t want to be rude, and it is rude talking over the music. We are sharing the bunkhouse tonight, if that is your bike there. Jimmy’s due on, and we have all night to talk, if you want. Sup up and listen in, and sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable”

I could argue with none of that, so I settled down to listen to another ‘name’ act, a fine fiddler who was also a ‘professional Geordie’, and who seemed to know the two newcomers. I did my best to settle myself down and go with the music, and that worked up to the half-time break, when Jimmy (Kerr) came over to hug Steph properly. He slipped past her to the bar, and Penny grinned once more.

“He’s got the separate bedroom in the bunkhouse, Mike. Now, what are you doing in your spot?”

“Ah, two of Graeme One’s. ‘Brickmaking’ and ‘Chemical Worker’s’. I mean, I know the second one isn’t, but the first one, well, you know what I mean”

Pen turned to Steph to explain.

“Lad who was sort of leader at our old folk club, Graeme Meek. Great songwriter, and did original trad stuff, if you see what I mean, all about the local area. Lots of clay pits and brick works there. Other song’s from Teesside, by Ron Angel. It was a club tradition to sing it each session”

I realised what she was doing, as she talked down my confusion with excess detail, and all too soon, Illtyd was bilingually demanding my presence in the little stage area. I saw the little fiddler staring at me, Steph whispering in his ear as his eyebrows lifted, and he shouted out to me as I waited for Illtyd to give the word.

“How, bonny lad…”

I puzzled out the rest as meaning something like “Do you want accompaniment with that song?”

Why not? I nodded and turned back to the room as Illtyd finished introducing me. I took a little bow, and began.

“First, a song from a friend of ours. That’s me and the Hiatts, that is. Then another from the North-East of England. First one’s about hacking clay out of wet pits to make bricks, and there is a chorus”

They were in good voice, and as I finished the altered final chorus, “And there’s no more work and there’s no more pay, it’s a hard life not working in the clay”, they gave me a decent round of applause.

Jimmy stepped up beside me, fiddle in hand, accompanied by Steph with her own and Geoff on what looked like a bouzouki or octave mandolin. Jimmy simply said, “Gie’s the first line, just that, so we can get the key, like”

I replied with “And it’s go, boys, go, they’ll time your every breath”, to a shout of recognition from someone other than the Hiatts, and Jimmy just said “Aye, that’s canny”, and we were off.

I could hardly hear myself by the time the final chorus was bellowed out, and while I took the applause as I made my way back to the table, the other three just carried on into Jimmy’s second set.

Keith put a hand on my shoulder.

“I know, mate, but, well, like ripping a plaster off. Lots to talk about, but not now. Just enjoy the evening; talk later”

CHAPTER 19
We finished our last drinks after Jimmy’s final tune, played solo as the Woodruffs sat down for their own pints, and started back up the hill to the bunkhouse and our beds. I hung back a little as the ginger non-misery led the way. I watched as her hand slipped into that of her husband, and almost by the second my focus shifted.

There was nothing false there, nothing feigned. They looked each other in the eye, they grinned as one, and when their hands joined it was as natural as it would have been for any normal couple.

I gave myself a mental slap at that word, as the more I watched them together, the more…

Not ‘normal’, because that word implied ‘abnormal. No; ‘natural’ was the word I dragged out. Natural.

Vic, Pen, Keith and Nansi prattled away about nothings as we walked, and I realised it was their way of distracting me, derailing any awkward thought processes, until Keith dropped in beside me, almost in lockstep.

“You know that Illtyd tried to chat her up, mate?”

“You what? Illtyd? Surely he knew who she was?”

“Yup. I asked him about it afterwards, and he just laughed, said ‘Well, she scrubs up well’, and then went on for a bit about how it all made sense”

“How did she take it? Him trying it on?”

“Oh, typical for her, as I have discovered. Just asked if he wanted her or her husband to cut his balls off. Illtyd tells me that bit about sense, he understands now why she was such a miserable sod. Says he thought he’d just make sure he understood”

“What? By trying to get into her knickers?”

Keith shook his head.

“Lot more to him than you might realise. His way of, what’s the word? Affirming her? Yeah; that’ll do”

I watched the couple again, her head thrown back in laughter at some joke or other of Jimmy’s, and I turned back to Keith.

“Obviously made sense to you lot”

“Oh yes! When she first turned up, well, when SHE first turned up, if you take my point, the two of them got some shit from a couple of lads from one of the farms out past Tregarth. Rather, Geoff did, and she all but ripped their heads off to piss down their necks”

“What happened?”

“Oh, they did the cliché shit, saying something nasty in Welsh while smiling, so she just carries on chatting to the barman. In Welsh”

“Oh”

“Then turns to the two idiots and tells them to fuck off. So Owen says ’You heard her, you’re barred’, and that’s when Vic stepped in”

“I always see him as Mister Softy!”

“What? No! Not like that. Just invites the two of them to sit with us, and that’s the start of it all”

He paused for a few seconds, before his next words.

“It was later in the week, mate. Owen said to me that he had spotted who she was when they first came in, recognised her, and it was like a slap in the face. His words, ah?”

“Keith, you’re picking up that local stuff”

“What? Oh, not surprising, is it? Anyway, Owen. What he said: she smiled at Geoff, and it was, shit, Steve had never… You heard about that winter night?”

“When he got that lift back up the road? I heard, yeah”

“Owen’s a sound bloke, mate. Proper old-school publican. Knows his customers, knows more than they realise. Said to me he was worried, when he, she didn’t come by for ages.. That it would all be in some local paper, wherever they lived. One paragraph stuff. Sees her come in, and he was, I don’t know? He was almost poetic in the way he described it. Head dipped down to Geoff, eyes on him and him alone. Absolutely besotted, he said”

Another pause, then a twisted grin.

“He made a crap joke about lost customers meaning lost revenue, but we’d had a chat a couple of weeks before after two regulars had died in an accident on Cloggy, so I knew he was talking shite. This is a bloody good community here, Mike. People…”

Another few breaths, another oddly warped grin.

“They care about people, Mike, but they care about their own first, and they have a very flexible interpretation of what that means. The two twats got it wrong, but Owen remembered Steve-as-was at the club, and that was a trump card. Miserable bastard, but never, ever hurt anyone. Then she walks in and, well, light-bulb moment. That’s the thing: as soon as we spoke to her, it was so clear how sorted she is. Geoff too. She tells me he can get very protective”

He chuckled, happily.

“I don’t normally support violence, Mike. Now and again, though… He broke a hand punching someone who upset her. Hell of a story to the two of them”

We were just coming up to his house, Vic and Nansi having slipped away earlier, and there was a round of hugs as we all said our goodnights, and I noticed Keith give Steph a peck on the cheek. Into the bunkhouse, and Steph simply held up a couple of mugs as we all dumped our jackets. Jimmy said something about netties and old man’s prostates, I think, before she shrugged and headed off to the showers with a small carrier bag. That finally crystallised my perception of her: privacy to change clothes. Even though I knew her history, my instincts were feeling that we needed that separation just then.

I pulled on my sleep suit, which was just my thermal undies, to be honest, and after she had returned wearing much the same, we all did our bedtime ablutions before Jimmy settled into his single room. I found my space on the huge bed shelf, wriggling into my bag, and wondering what the following day would bring.

“Mike?”

Steph’s voice was softer than it had been in the pub. I turned over to face the two. Fortunately, there were no other residents that night.

“Yes?”

“Sorry for the shock. Thank you for not… Thank you for your kindness”

I took a few deep breaths, feeling that she really wanted to talk, as Geoff whispered something to her. I could see her head shake.

“Air needs clearing, love. Done it before, more than a few times. Mike knows some of it, knows I was in a bad place. Owen told Mike about that winter night, I think”

I found my own voice.

“Yeah, he did. Woman who gave you a lift, she was our friend. Um, me and my wife’s friend”

I found myself gushing, much to my embarrassment.

“Years back. Caro and I, that’s my, my wife, we were doing the walk from Aber over the Carneddau”

“Kipping in the little shelter? Bit cramped, that”

“You know it, then?”

“We do”

One word, one pronoun, said so much to me just then, picking at my own wound.

“We got there, and Pat, that’s your driver, she was already in place, with her husband. They come up here every now and again, but I haven’t seen her for a while”

“Well, if you see her, just say thanks. Your wife?”

The tears were there, but no sobs, thankfully.

“Motorcycle accident. Before we all moved away from That Place”

“Oh hell. Sorry; didn’t mean to bring that up”

“Life goes on, Steph”

A very long sigh from her, and I saw her shift position as her husband very obviously spooned her from behind, just as obviously in reassurance.

“Yes. Something I know all too well. Get this bit over, while I can. Always known who I am, what I am, but tried to make a life the way the doctors said when I was born. Didn’t work. Lots of self-harm, and lots of risk-taking. What you talked about was just part of it, just one moment. Alcohol, as well, and I know full well you saw that too. I had a moment of sanity one day, and I spoke to my GP about depression, so he found me a therapist. Woman called Sally. Funny… We have another friend, trans man called Jerry, and he says much the same thing”

“Sorry, Steph, but not that clued up on this stuff. Trans man?”

“Oh, sort of the inverse of people like me. Recorded as a girl at birth, but know they’re a boy. Bit in your face is Jerry. Anyway, he was in hospital for ages, doped to the gills on Valium or whatever, and he gets a shrink who finally listens to him properly. That was me, I suppose”

“Sally listened to you?”

“Sort of. More truthful to say she challenged me. Took all of my assumptions about the chances I had and turned them back on me. I’d wobble, say I couldn’t do something, and she’d just ask me why not. Got me onto the hormones, and… do you want all the details, Mike?”

“Go on. Please”

“Okay… well, they worked rather well, in Geoff’s opinion, but he’s just a lech”

There was a quick whispered ‘bitch/sod’ exchange before she continued.

“Mood swings, mood changes, and that’s a confused area. Do I start reacting to things in a stereotypical girly way because of the little blue pills, or because my mind thinks it now has permission to do so? Add in coming down off the booze, and there were so many things going on simultaneously I was almost lost. Sal and I had a chat about that, and you have to understand I was having to wear a bloody binder back then, elastic bandages and stuff to flatten my chest. Physically, I was getting, it would have been impossible to pretend much longer.

“Sal says I should do a trial run and go somewhere I had never really been to, just spend some time being me. My bank cards and cheque book were all initial and surname, so no worries there. I finally took the hint, or rather her boot up my arse, and I decided on a music festival, in Shrewsbury. As soon as I got there, I’m into a massive panic attack, and by amazing luck I’m pitched right next to Geoff’s brother and his family”

She paused as Geoff whispered something else.

“Yes, love. Dead right. Lots of amazing luck; I must have been a saint in a previous life, what with Sal, and you, and yes, those. I am actually trying to be serious”

She drew in a much longer breath.

“The rest can be summed up as finding out how many friends I had at work, real friends, and meeting some people like myself. One of them’s a biker as well. Her husband’s got some old British thing that she goes absolutely silly over”

“Sounds like you’ve all been lucky, Steph”

She was silent for nearly half a minute before speaking again, this time in a much flatter voice.

“Not really. If it hadn’t been for your friend, I wouldn’t have made it, and that wasn’t luck, it was kindness. We had somebody else, though, and her luck…”

Her voice cracked just then, and Geoff chipped in.

“Leave that one for tonight, love. We had to organise her funeral, Mike. There was someone else, someone I loved. That’s where we are, Steph and me and Sarah, lucky in that we seem to pick up the good stuff that others don’t get. Sorry for putting myself in there, but without that luck, I wouldn’t have my wife, and I am really sorry if that hurts you, but I am guessing with your own story, you know where we are at. Thank you from me for being as generous of spirit as I sort of sense you are. Now, are you up to climbing tomorrow?”

“I hope so”

He chuckled.

“Blatant change of subject there, he says in satisfaction. Where do you have planned?”

“Keith was talking about Craig Aderyn, in Cwm Dyli. Get to it off the Miners’ Path before Llyn Llydaw”

“Do you know that place, love?”

He seemed to sprinkle that word around so liberally I wondered if it were reassurance for his wife, but then asked myself another question: why shouldn’t he? I had guessed he had groped her in some way when that little whispered exchange had taken place, and I couldn’t think of a better word to have used on oneself. Steph yawned, then wriggled down into their double bag.

“Heard of it, but not been on it. Remind me to take some gardening kit, just in case. Night, my friend. Enough heavy stuff for one day; we’ve got the breakfast duty tomorrow”

The night felt sleepless, so much to process, and I only realised I had actually slept when the dawn took me by surprise.

CHAPTER 20
I woke in a warm fuzz, my bag snug around me and my bladder, for once, not that insistent. I slithered out of it nonetheless, and after I had done the necessary, I started a trawl through the food left ready for breakfast by the Woodruffs.

That term finally made sense to me, for Steph was now so clearly right in her skin, content as she was, and if someone who shared a bed with her had no issues, then why should I? I decided I would keep telling myself that until I was convinced.

Kettle on, pans heating on the gas range and oven on ready for the sausages. Fry them first before finishing in the oven… black pudding? Laver bread? Where on Earth had they found that? More to the point, how to cook it?

The toilet flushed again, and Geoff joined me in the kitchen, as I stared at the seaweedy stuff.

“Don’t worry, Mike. She’ll sort it. Rolls it in some of the porridge and fries it. You’ll need to get the other bag out of the fridge”

“What other bag?”

“The cockles, of course”

He couldn’t keep the poker face for long, and what seemed to be a trademark grin resurfaced quickly.

“She got fed up with Jimmy. He does that over-the-top accent thing”

“I’ve noticed”

“Hard not to. And he’s always teasing about food, coming up with things we’ve never heard of, so she decided she’d try and outdo him without having to risk the family tastebuds. In other words, that seaweed might not all disappear. That kettle done?”

“Seems so. I’d warm the pot first”

“Will do. Can I be personal, Mike?”

“Depends what about”

“Us, really. Me and Hairy”

I must have looked puzzled, because he waved an apologetic hand.

“Sorry. Nickname for her, from when she goes overboard in her playing. Her hair goes everywhere. You knew her before I did”

“Not really. I knew some… Sorry about saying this, but I knew some pisshead of a misery who did stupid things. I didn’t know her”

“I understand. That wasn’t really what I wanted to ask, though. It’s more… Look, just observation. My family, well, there are reasons. We tend to be able to spot folk in, well, people who might welcome a smile, bit of comfort”

He paused, shaking his head.

“Sorry, but this is coming out all shite and patronising. Let’s just say our family had an issue. Steph helped sort it, but she wouldn’t have been, we wouldn’t have spotted her, if things hadn’t, you know. In the first place. So what I am leading up to is, well, what happened? In your life? Penny gave us the story of That Place, and let us know how you’d helped. It’s just, well…”

Another long pause, another shake of his head, and he simply turned away to pour three mugs of tea, speaking with his face turned away from me.

“Steph mentioned Melanie, the woman who was murdered. There are a lot like that, I have learned, and we both ended up, like I said, able to spot the wobbly ones, and that is what she called you. You said about your wife, and what my girl said to me was, well, you’re wobbling. Steph said it was like looking into a mirror and seeing her old self. That’s really the personal bit, Mike. Are you okay, and is there anything we could offer?”

He turned round, a mug in his left hand.

“Just going to give her this, then we’ll finish sorting the brekky. No need to answer my question; just letting you know, and hoping I haven’t offended you. Back in a few”

He left to deliver the tea, and I finished setting everything going on and in the stove. There was a series of raucous coughs, and then I was joined by Jimmy, a cigarette in his hand.

“Gorra spare one there for us, son? Just gannin’ oot for a tab”

Sod it. I passed him one of the two full mugs before finding an empty one for myself and pouring from the pot. Geoff was back just as Jimmy left, reaching over to give a stir to the pot of beans, and I reached over to squeeze his shoulder, hoping he read the message correctly: no offence taken. I realised I was the one who was taking his time to get there.

Steph was with us a little later, hair in a tangle, and my decision about taking time was given a kick in the arse by the way Geoff kissed her good morning. Shift that viewpoint, Michael.

She did indeed sort the sloppy green slime, and when Jimmy reappeared, the stink of cigarettes strong on his breath, she made a comment about the food.

“Got no pernackity, nor carlings or stotty, but we have got bara lawr. Your turn, Mister Kerr!”

He stared at the objects she was now frying, then grinned in an absolutely natural way.

“Ah think ye might just have outbid us, pet!”

She stared him down.

“You saying you’re bottling out of eating this?”

“Nah! Gie’s a bit, but make sure there’s some left in case Ah like it”

That was the keynote of the meal, and when Keith arrived in his climbing gear, he raised the stakes further.

“Right, you two! There is no room in your van for four. Mr Woodruff. There are, however, two pillion seats going, and me and Pen, we haz gots spare lidz”

Geoff looked worried, but Keith shrugged.

“Parking’ll be easier at Pen y Pass on the bikes. And neither me nor Mike has killed anyone on a bike. Yet. Right, Mike?”

The silence must have made the point, for he blushed at the obvious dropped bollock, so I cut in before it got stupid.

“I’m bigger than Mike, so best Steph comes with me. We doing this, then?”

She stood up, arms folded.

“You saying I’m fat?”

The complaint was ruined by her collapse into snorts of laughter, but she still chose my pillion as we set off.

I had yet another example of Keith’s ‘feet under the table’ approach when we were allowed to leave our gloves, helmets and other stuff in a back room in the Gorphwysfa building before setting out along the Miners’ Track.

A boggy walk to the pipeline, a weird full-body roll across the horrible thing, and there was the slab. I was pleasantly surprised, realising that if the slab had been more visible, it would not only have been less vegetated as a result of being far more popular. We did a few Diffs and V Diffs to get the feel of the place, before moving onto the ‘signature’ VS that went up a very plant-bedecked slab, mixing and matching partners as the day moved on. I knew Keith’s style, of course, and I was well aware of Steph’s abilities, even if it had once been when she was clearly pissed, so it was Geoff I was watching.

He was clearly new to VS and upward, and I wondered if he was simply trying to please his wife, but then realised that he had superb balance, and quite a nice technique. It wasn’t that he was chasing Steph, but more that she was offering him a chance to take that next step.

Another shift In perception.

It was a very good day, on rock I would have missed despite its delights, and more to the point I could see some lines that weren’t recorded in the guide book. Mine, mine, my precious.

My return to Sheffield left me pondering as I sat in my usual armchair, out of my leathers and clutching a mug of tea, a fish supper on my lap, half-watching some TV crap or other; when I was back in work, I had to handle Kul’s questions.

“How was it, then? Lots of silliness on the rocks?”

“Um, not that so much. Got… need to say something in confidence”

Kul shrugged, but he was staring at me, brow slightly furrowed.

“I know--- I HOPE you know and trust me enough for that. What happened?”

“Remember the ginger misery?”

“Fuck, yes!”

“Well, I met them properly, this trip. Mate of Keith and Pen’s, now”

“They cheered up, then?”

“Oh god, yes. I think her husband has really helped”

Kul paused for around a minute before speaking again.

“Coffee room, now”

He led the way, and took his time making us each a brew before his next words burst out.

“What the fucking hell are you on about?”

I shrugged, waving my hands.

“Sorry, mate. Messy, complicated. Turns out our miserable friend is transgender. Came out, both as in coming out as herself and out the other side of the miseries, got married to a man, stuff like that”

He was shaking his head, so I held up a hand once more.

“Yes, I know. Join the club. It’s just, when you see her with er husband, it makes sense, And yes, the she/her shit makes sense. Can you see how that works?”

He shook his head.

“Mike, not being dense, yeah? And it’s not you, but, well, not sitting that well with me. Not saying---just can’t see it. Have to see it, me, see things in the flesh, that sort of thing”

I nodded, to his evident agreement.

“Same here, mate. If Keith or Pen had just come out with it, said to me what the score was, well, no. Just, well, dropped into it, then seeing them with each other, and a friend of theirs. They cadged a spot in the bunkhouse as well, so we had breakfast and a day of climbing together”

“Shit…”

I reached into my fleece pocket for my little digital camera.

“I have stuff on here, Kul. Might help. Here… Pen snapped this one when I did a floor spot”

“Right--- shit! That’s Jimmy Kerr!”

“Yup. Seems he’s a friend of theirs. That’s Ginger and hubby, I mean, and that’s them behind me”

“Shit again, then. Those… Those real?”

He made a gesture at his chest, and I nodded.

“Looked like it”

His eyes opened wider.

“When they were in the bunkhouse, they didn’t, you know? Hide the whatsits?”

“I really don’t think I want an answer to that one, and I also don’t think you should be bloody asking it!”

I got a ghost of a grin.

“We each have our ways of coping, Mike. Now, what’s that stuff?”

“Welsh breakfast stuff”

“Looks gopping”

“It wasn’t bad. And think about what black pudding is, and you happily eat that”

“Yeah, but I’m a Yorkshire lad”

“Kul, mate, you’re from Leicester”

“Adopted Yorkshire, then. Still counts”

He was running through the pictures as he joked, obviously as his way of coping, and he ended up at a picture I had taken at the slab in Cwm Dyli. He simply sat staring at the camera screen as I sipped my tea, then handed the thing back to me.

“That shot has it, Mike. They’re just sitting grinning at each other”

“And?”

“If you want my guess, just then, well, I don’t think there was anyone else around but the two of them. At least, not that they were noticing”

He busied himself with emptying his cup, then grinned, almost back to his usual self.

“At least that solves one problem I didn’t realise I had”

“Oh?”

“Now I know how I can get my Jimmy Kerr albums signed!”

CHAPTER 21
We washed up our empty mugs, and then Kul grinned at me.

“Sod it. Refill to take with us? I can do them both. People will gossip if we come back together”

“People already gossip in this place, especially Betty!”

“Yeah, mate, but I like to steer it a bit if I can. Let her make up her own shit, and well never hear the end of it. Given where you get off to, it would all be ovine”

“All be what?”

“Ovine. To do with sheep”

“Fancy some grousing, then?”

“Eh?”

“Can’t afford Wales every weekend. The lad fancy getting shouted at by some red grouse at Stanage? Plenty of easy stuff there”

“I’ll have a word. Mike. Tea, or another coffee?”

“Ah, tea this time, please”

By the time he reappeared, I was already deep into a business plan review, and my mind had slid away from Wales and its issues.

At the weekend, Dal drove us all out to the Edge, where we pottered around at the Popular End, and I led them up the usual beginners’ routes, such as Grotto Slab, Flying Buttress, Black Hawk Traverse and Hollybush Crack, which had Kul wimping a little, especially on the final moves. Afterwards, the three of us made our way back round to the base of the cliff and our flasks, as the wind was particularly raw that afternoon. Hot tea, and some samosas from Kul’s wife Sangeeta, as well as our fleeces, did some good. It became a bit of a habit. Not long after that drive over to Stanage, Kul set out his stall, starting with a comment about Hollybush.

“Mike?”

“Yeah, mate?”

“That lean-back thing?”

“Layback”

“Whatever. How do you do that without a rope to catch you? A rope from above, I mean”

“Confidence, I suppose. And practice”

“Yeah. Sort of my point, really. That stuff we did in Wales, that’s all sloping stuff. This is different, all straight up and down”

“And?”

“And the lad’s asked for some proper shoes for it. Boots. Whatever. You got any tips?”

I stared at him, and in the end, he just grinned and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. Two pairs. You have us hooked, Mike. I’m just a bit jealous of the lad now. That right, Dal?”

“Yeah. Dad says it’s not fair, cause he has to start from scratch when he’s really old”

Kul sat up straighter.

“That is not what I said! I said that you had an advantage because you are starting younger!”

“Same thing”

“No it bloody isn’t!”

They were still sparring on the drive back that day, but we arranged a post-work visit to the local climbing shop for the middle of the following week, and of course we were back on the rock the next weekend for a test drive of their new footwear. We stayed at the Popular End, and after a rerun of Flying Buttress, at Dal’s request, which became a habit, I had started them on the easier ’classics’.

That warmed my heart, in so many ways, and showed me that Dal at least was in it for the right reasons. Too many people, usually male, come into the sport as a way of willy-waving. They are there only to show others how hard they can climb, not that they enjoy it for the move, the situation, but…

The first time that thought crossed my mind, as I watched Dal laughing with his father as we walked back down from another run up Flying Buttress, I had to take a pause, looking back over the moor. The simile had come from Caro, when she had spoken about the difference between birdwatchers and twitchers, about Men with Big Lists in contrast with those who simply loved nature and its creatures.

Sod, it, Rhodes. Focus on the grouse shouting ‘GO BACK!’ and find a smile for a couple of friends. Time for them to practise an easy lead. If this was going to be a regular thing, they needed to gain the skills to do it on their own.

I think I had my face under control when I caught up with them, and did the old game of soloing roped up a climb so that each could follow and place gear, and of course I stiffed them by taking each one up a different one of the neighbouring routes Anatomy and Physiology. No cribbing allowed.

I had a bit too much to drink that evening.

Four weeks later, we were back yet again, and this time Dal led Black Hawk Traverse, with its long stride secured by horizontal hand jams. He did well, especially in setting up a big hex nut so that it ‘cammed’, but I still soloed up the Chimney to check his belay on the stance. As I looked down to the car park, I saw a small van pull in. Nothing unusual, but then two people emerged from it, and the usual Stanage wind caught the long hair of the taller person, and shit.

“Dal?”

“Yes?”

“Putting the rope like that is risky. If one of those nuts comes out, you’ll still have the same length of rope in play, and you’ll lurch a long way forward if your Dad comes off. Know how to tie a clove hitch?”

“No”

“What are they teaching in the Cubs these days”

“Bit too old for the Cubs, me”

“Never mind! Now, this is how you tie a clove hitch. Two loops and…”

“Right!”

“You could always tie each anchor separately into your harness, but this allows adjustment. Enough practice, and you can tie it one-handed. Now, there’s a related knot, the Italian Hitch, but not for today. Sorted? Time to shout at your Dad!”

He grinned happily.

“Yeah, I get to tell him what to do, don’t I?”

“Yup. Don’t put the rope through the Sticht before you’ve got it all up. Takes ages, otherwise”

By the time I had talked him through the right way to bring his Dad up, and we were once more standing on top of the Edge, the two figures were at the foot of Grotto Slab. I walked a little way back from the actual edge of the rock, and held a finger to my lips. The two lads looked puzzled.

“Kul, remember what I told you about that ginger fiddler?”

His eyes widened, and his head jerked round to look over towards Lose and Win Hills.

“You’re not joking, are you? Where are they?”

“From what I saw, laying out their gear twenty yards away from ours”

“Bloody hell! And, well, bugger”

He looked hard at his son, mouth a little twisted.

“Dal, Mike here shared something with me a little while ago. Didn’t know if I should share it with you, but it’s a bit late now”

“You’re talking about that alkie in Wales, aren’t you? From that first trip we did?”

“I am, son. Been a few changes in their life, Mike tells me”

“And he’s sat next to our bags?”

“Um. Not quite. She’s sat next to our bags”

“Fuck! Er, sorry, but Dad: you--- it’s not a joke, is it?”

Kul looked to me for help, and I shook my head.

“Don’t know if they’ll remember me, but I think I should do the first bit of talking. Time for a cuppa, and to get stuff out of the way”

Kul muttered something, and as agreed I led us down and round.

Steph’n’Geoff were uncoiling twin ropes when we arrived, and as I approached their spot, Geoff spotted me, his face breaking into a broad smile.

“Hiya! Mike, isn’t it? Keith’s mate?”

He nudged his wife, and as she looked up, her own smile outdid his. I waved at my two companions.

“That’s me! Steph and Geoff Woodruff, this is my colleague Kul, and his boy Dal. Boy’s just done his first lead”

Steph immediately set her focus on Dal.

“Which route, Dal?”

He was suddenly nervous.

“Er, Black Hawk Traverse”

“Ooh! Nice route. Did you get any gear in the horizontal crack?”

“Mike showed me how to get a hexagonal thing to cam”

“Nicely done. I’ve brought some of these; they’re called Friends”

She held up her rack of gear, and suddenly Dal was locked onto the Shiny, minor things like a sex change fading into the background.

Kul whispered a soft “I see what you meant” to me before speaking up.

“Son, before you get a touch of the all-consuming avarice, ask the important question: how much are they?”

Geoff ducked his head.

“So I got a work bonus. I’m allowed to buy my wife a present”

Steph’s turn to stare.

“I think the custom and practice when buying presents for your beloved is to get them something that is entirely for them, and not, in reality, for yourself!”

That started some serious teasing between them, so I simply said we were about to pour some tea, that our bags were just over there, and so forth, and once the three of us had slipped past, Kul whispered again.

“That’s so sodding different. So bloody natural!”

I kept my reply to a sharp nod, and as we pulled out our flasks and snacks, Dal just whispered “She’s real, isn’t she? I mean, living colour, whatever? What must… Talk later, okay? Just getting my viewpoint settled”

A couple of deep breaths, than a question.

“Why do they have two ropes, Mike?”

“For double roping and twin-roping, Dal”

I took a few minutes explaining the difference, as the two newcomers quickly soloed Grotto Slab in what seemed like seconds and on their return started to gear up to its left. Abruptly, Dal stood.

“Going to ask. Need to break some more ice”

Kul and I left him to chat with them as we finished our mugs, then joined him as Steph finished tying on, Geoff now on a very solid ground belay.

“Dad, Steph here says she’ll show me a variation on that route I did. They’re going to go up this bit here, Heather Wall they say it’s called, and I can have a go after”

I looked at the Woodruffs.

“A VS, you two? He’s only done up to V Doff so far”

Steph nodded.

“And I can always lower him off if he can’t make the top moves, but we’d need to borrow your rope so that Hubby here can tow it up. I hate trying to throw ropes down off here, and that wind doesn’t help. I keep meaning to bring ski goggles for my eyes!”

Kul just nodded, collecting our line, and then Steph was off. There was that same economy and ease of movement I had seen even when she was living as a pisshead man. As she moved left and then back right, I explained to my two companions how the twin ropes worked to prevent a pendulum swing if she came off, while man and wife (it was getting easier to say that) rattled off a series of bad jokes until Steph was at the top of the wall. Her next words brought a soft hiss of breath from Kul.

“Watch me here, love. Awkward moves; need to get them in sequence and pull through before your arms get pumped”

“Aye aye, love!”

That bit of the route is pure thuggery, being one of my favourites, but rather than muscling through, she seemed to flow before disappearing from sight. Her voice came down, faintly, first “Safe!” and a minute later, “On belay”

Geoff started taking the ropes out of his belay device, asking one of us to tie a figure-of-eight on the end of my rope. He clipped it to the rear of his harness, then bellowed upwards.

“TAKE IN!”

Once the rope was taught, there were the usual calls before he started up the slab, collecting runners as he went, until he was under the right edge of the huge roof.

“Give a few seconds to get my head right, love!”

“Aye aye!”

I could actually see his back move as he hyperventilated, clearly psyching himself up, and I understood how far he was past his comfort zone, and then he was moving. It wasn’t as smooth, certainly not as flowing, but with a final series of obscenities, he was over the lip. Kul looked at his boy.

“Sure you want to try this?”

“Yes, Dad. Got to, yeah? And, well, she really is what she says she is, isn’t she? Especially the way they keep saying that word”

“Aye, son. I think you have that right. Makes a change, you being right”

“You’re a sod, Dad!”

Steph’s voice came down again.

“Dal! On belay!”

I checked he was tied on properly before shouting “Take in, Steph!”, and the rope started to vanish upwards. As it finished, and Dal staggered forward slightly, he made his own call of “That’s me”, followed a few seconds later by her “Climb when ready!”

He actually made simple work of the slab, which delighted me, and then he was at the roof, and having a conversation with Geoff, whose head I could see over the lip. The man was clearly talking the boy through the crux sequence, and then the lad made his move, jerky, flailing, with what I suspected was more than a little assistance from a tight rope, but he made it.

I stared at his father, and he shrugged.

“Going to have to try now, aren’t I?”

I nodded, just as Geoff’s head reappeared with a call of “Who’s next?”

Kul failed on the crux in the end, being lowered eventually to the ground muttering about never living it down, before the other three came back round to our spot.

More tea, and a sharing of the snacks we had left, followed by Steph and I doing some much harder routes as Geoff looked after the boys, and that ice Dal had mentioned not just broken but melted entirely away.

CHAPTER 22
It was a day that left me more than a little out of sorts. I had smiled at the way Steph’n’Geoff danced attendance on each other, but each little moment raised Caro’s memory. That could, should, have been us, was my first thought, which was then kicked well into touch by the simple understanding that it HAD been us. The wave of loss left me silent most of the way back to Sheffield, and after Kul dropped me off I waited at my closed front door before he had turned the corner, then walked to the local convenience store and bought a half bottle of Grouse and a bottle of dry white.

Both were empty when I woke the next morning, but at least I was in bed, and undressed, although when I went to the loo I had to wipe a small puddle I had left during the night. Not good. I looked at the bike, realised I would definitely not be safe to ride, and after some milky cereal and a couple of slices of toast, I walked down to the bus stop and took the first one into town.

It was a pretty aimless day, wandering around the shops, having a second, greasier breakfast in a greasy spoon and picking up a couple of books as well as two CDs I had been eyeing for a couple of months. Stuff for a proper meal could come from my freezer, but I left the alcohol on the shelves, as I had already played that game for far too long back in That Place.

I simply felt empty.

“Mike?”

I looked round so sharply I felt my neck click

“Betty? Sorry; I was miles away”

“No you weren’t You’re about four feet away. What are you up to?”

“Ah, I was out with Kul and his boy yesterday, and today’s sort of all loose ends, so I just thought I’d have a bimble round the shops”

“Not that much open on a Sunday, is there?”

“Well, more than was available in That Place”

“The L-word?”

“Yes indeed. We had the Arndale Centre and, well, a load of Asian grocers and that sort of thing. And pubs. Lots of pubs”

“Well, I fancy a cuppa. You dry?”

Not last night, I wasn’t.

“You trying to entice me, Mrs Ansell?”

“Oh give over! Got enough problems with the old man!”

“I was referring to tempting me to drink a cuppa, woman”

“Oh, and there I was thinking… Well, a woman can dream. Cuppa, aye. Got some goss to share”

“Juicy?”

“Could be, but more likely to be greasy”

I could feel my mood lifting as she rattled away, and led me off to Marks and Spencer’s café. I was now feeling really hungry as I came down from my drunkenness, and along with my little pot of tea, I bought us each a toasted sandwich and a slice of “Ooh, just this once, then” cake. After my first bite of cheese and ham, I wiped my mouth and asked the obvious question.

“This gossip, then?”

“Eh? Oh, aye! Well, you know the Fettler’s?”

“The mocktails and pie floater place? I should bloody well think so by now”

“Well, the landlord had an idea”

“Why am I getting worried?”

“Oh? No, not that sort of idea. One to do with where he’s from”

“Not bloody ostrich steaks, like that other place in Leeds?”

“What place?”

“Out by the college. Was in the news the other day. You can order all sorts of meat as a burger or a steak. Ostrich, alligator, that sort of thing”

“Ah. No, not like that. And wouldn’t his be emu, anyway?”

“Good point. So what’s his idea?”

“Well, he’s from Australia, right?”

“Well, yes”

“He’s got family down there still, and he’s been speaking to the boss. Our boss, that is”

“Bit confused, Bets. What’s he want with the boss?”

She took a sip of her tea, staring at the cup for a few seconds.

“More the Board than Mr Enright. Jacko—the landlord—has a proposal”

“Decent or indecent?”

“Oh, give over! Decent, and interesting as well. His family, it is”

“You are a worse tease then… Sorry. Can’t think of an example. Tease, anyway. What’s he asking?”

“Well, it’s that turn-round thing. He’s got family back there, like I said, and they have friends and that, and it’s what we do with the grease and that. What you and Kul do, really”

“Me? I just give advice”

“Exactly. Thing is, them Aussies, they’re going all green and eco-stuff. The recycling thing is big, and his brother, he does biodiesel. Converts chip fat into road fuel. He could do with a few more grease suppliers. Jacko fancies having us sort some out for Big Brother, hands-on style”

“Bloody hell! You mean someone going over there, don’t you?”

“Yup. But don’t get your hopes up, there’ll be a lot of folk wanting that job”

“Hell, Bets, I’m still settling down”

She stared at me, very directly, for nearly a minute, then smiled.

“Aye. Put my foot in it right at the start, didn’t I? right. No teasing, Mike. How long has it been since, you know?”

I knew exactly what she meant, so I fixed the best smile I could drag out.

“Not that long, love. Don’t think it ever will be long enough”

She put her hand on mine.

“Aye. That I understand. Like me and my Mam, if you don’t mind me saying that. All I will say is, well, if the chance comes up, it might help the whatsit, grieving process. If I am out of order, mate, just tell me. Sod it”

She drew a slow breath.

“If I am out of order, forget telling me, just slap me. I think moving up here really helped you. I suspect going even further might do better, There: said it. News will come out in the next two days, so have a think. Now, how’s Kul doing with the climbing? Any really embarrassing goss?”

I did my best to come up with enough silliness to satisfy her, but my mind was on her news, and I am sure she fully understood that. The following weekend, I was back over in Bethesda, with a present for the Hiatts of a ‘Ouistiti’ children’s harness. Penny was giggling.

“You just assume, don’t you?”

“Oh, and knowing you two, could I ever be wrong?”

Keith was doing his best not to corpse himself, so I dragged out the harness and presented it to the Bearer Of The Gloves herself.

“Enfys?”

She put down her current Lego sculpture to look at the harness.

“Beth sy?”

Penny smiled at her.

“Dydy Ewi Mike ddim yn siarad yr iaith, cariad. English, ah?”

“Wossit, Uncle Mike?”

“It’s something you wear to go with Mum and Dad when they climb rocks, love”

“I got rocks!”

Penny laughed again.

“We sorted out a couple of those old belts from the club, made her a Parisian baudrier and sit harness with two of them and an eight foot sling”

“You got her climbing already?”

“Very small boulders, very tight rope. More sack hauling as yet than climbing. You up for a route this weekend? Weather’s not looking great. Could take her round the Kitchen, I suppose. Oh, and Geoff said he’d run into you and your mates at Stanage”

“Oh; yes. Bit of a shock for Dal. I’d already given Kul the heads-up at work, but the Woodruffs just turned up, plonked their kit next to ours and whoosh, steep learning curve for the lad. Anyway, a walk sounds good if it’s going to be wet”

“Well, she’ll want to visit the old bridge, for the waterfalls. Definitely goes on a rope there, especially when the water’s high.”

“Club tonight?”

“Yup. Vic and Nansi might not be out, though. Their kid’s being a bit difficult. Lots of sulks”

“Oh? That surprises me, after they’ve both been so good with the music”

“He’s still great there; just the rest of the time that’s the problem, and you can’t live your life in a pub, can you?”

Keith and I just stared at each other, eyebrows raised, until it became impossible not to corpse. Pen gave a sharp “Men!”, before she herself succumbed, and the laughter became even more raucous when Enfys appeared wearing her new harness, which was upside down.

She insisted on wearing it for our walk down to the hidden bridge the next day, as well as for that walk around Idwal, wearing what looked like a sailor’s dry suit and wellies. We did have the Edwards with us, their boy looking pale and drawn right up to the point where the children were released onto the broad path after the first wooden bridge.

The two little bundles of energy were yelling happily as they Splashed In Puddles and Stepped In Sheep Poo. The Slabs were running with water, especially the Ordinary Route, which was, in essence, a watercourse in spate, so of course there was a couple climbing it, water breaking round the leader’s waist. A moment of pain hit, remembering that day soling, and then the kids were Being Seagulls, with appropriate noises, and we were making our way up towards the Kitchen, a watercourse of our own to cross over which we handed the children, as their wellies were rather shorter than the water was deep, and socks and feet needed to stay dry.

The rain, which had been pretty persistent precipitation developed into a deluge as we arrived back at the gate by the lake, and my own socks were starting to feel moist as we started the descent. Dennis in the tea kiosk had hot jam doughnuts for the kids, which he insisted be left for a few minutes because they would be “Poeth yn y ganol” and he didn’t want little faces burned by hot strawberry sludge.

The club was without paid guest that night; after we had all dried off and two children were made ready to bed down in Enfys’ room under Galadriel’s watchful eye, five of us started what was now for me a familiar walk down to the Cow. Sausage and mash, with several pints of decent ale, and I found myself chuckling at Penny’s claim about living in a pub. As the rain hammered against the windows, it seemed an eminently practical idea. That rain was running down the streets as we trudged back up, and once I had my boots back off and stuffed with newspaper (Welsh ones, I noted), two women and myself looked in on the children, both fast asleep in the one bed.

Nansi shook her head in an odd way, and then we went back down for a last cuppa before the two couples headed for ‘master’ and ‘spare’ bedrooms, and I slipped on my approach shoes for the walk to the bunkhouse, boots left to dry in the Hiatts’ kitchen. Nansi looked pensive.

“I won’t say ‘penny for them’, Nansi, because these two will simply make a joke, but you know what I mean”

Her lips quirked, and she took Vic’s hand.

“Ah, Mike, been hard recently. Today was typical, really. Miserable as all hell before we came out, then he’s with her and it’s like a switch is thrown. They’re in a reception year now, and the teacher says Dafi doesn’t want to play with anyone else. Seeing them lying like that, I worry he’s getting a fixation. He won’t go near the other boys, and that could cause real problems when he gets older”

“You can’t… That age is a bit young to be thinking ‘gay’, Nansi. That is what you’ve got in mind, isn’t it?”

She shook her head.

“Ah, never that simple, Mike. I mean, if they were older and locked together like that, it would all be normal, something for the other kids to be jealous of, but boys hanging round girls, young ones, ah? He’ll be getting called a sissy till teenage years, and, well, everything that goes with it”

I couldn’t do anything but agree with her.

“Yup. Means we will all have to watch his back, then. Not tonight, though: don’t think the two of them could have looked more at peace”

Vic looked at me across their joined hands.

“You mean that. Statement, not question, ah? These two don’t pick bad folk for friends, do they?”

I could feel my cheeks heating, so I finished my cup and rose from my seat.

“Well, I owe them both a lot, so yes. Now, time to get to my pit, I think. Soonest into that rain, soonest out of it”

Keith waved at the door.

“Got a brolly in the porch; would help”

I grinned, slightly sheepish.

“Yes, it would. Just hope nobody sees me with it. Night, all!”

The umbrella did help, and after doing my teeth, and a last visit to the loo, I settled down in a space that didn’t hold one of the various campers who had chosen a roof over a tent in that weather.

I did owe them a lot: a wife, for starters, and now a back to watch.

CHAPTER 23
The news was officially announced in an office meeting, and it was a little deeper than Betty had suggested. The boss was very clear in what the requirements of the posting would be. Yes, he did use that word.

“There’s been a lot of rubbish coming out about this one, so let’s put some of that silliness to bed. We are not going to be shipping lard and chip fat to Australia, no matter how wonderful Yorkshire lard products may be. We need the successful candidate to have an understanding of the processes involved, but that’s all. What we will be offering is much more along the lines of our management consultancy work”

I sneaked a look at Betty, and she shrugged in a pretty clear acknowledgement that she had caught the wrong end of the stick. The boss was still in full flow, so I switched back to him.

“The required skill set is quite a full one, so while it might look like we are playing favourites that is definitely not the case. Well, it is, but only in the sense that we need old hands to make sure this experiment works. It’s a big step into the unknown, and we may come a cropper, so it is those old hands, that experience, that we need. Now, we all know each other here, so no silliness about secret ballots and anonymised applications. Some of you are not suited for a number of reasons, and those reasons are all about experience. I’m looking directly at you, Mike”

“What the hell? I mean, sorry?”

He smiled.

“You would have been on the shortlist, especially as a single man, but you really need another six months to a year under your belt here before we can let you out to fly free. It’s a company mindset thing. We do indeed have a company mindset here, and for this trial we really need someone properly housebroken”

Betty called out something about him simply making things worse, which brought a sheepish grin from him, but he pulled back some officialish dignity and closed the meeting on the promise of a fair crack of the proverbial whip, with a sharp remark to Betty about even thinking of a joke about chains.

“I expect a few applications, but bear in mind what we seek here. It’s your own time you’ll be wasting, and I’d rather have people excited about their own turn coming up than getting disappointed about not getting to do the first footing”

The message to me was quite explicit, far more so than I would have expected, but I realised he was right. It was the subtext that got me: ‘you would have been our first choice, but…’. A vote of confidence, in a way. Get me housebroken…

It was a while before I was able to get across to Bethesda again, and that time there were three of us, Kul and his boy being let out for a weekend by what Kul called his dragon.

“More like that Greek myths hound sometimes. That one with the three heads. She needs that to keep the extra tongue for effective lashing”

I found myself laughing properly again.

“Kul, you do talk crap at times! Sangeeta, well, she’s not like that, from what I’ve seen of her”

Dal called over from the back seat, “Mike’s right, Dad, and don’t give us any rubbish about respecting tradition, men’s jokes and that!”

Kul sighed.

“Kids these days, eh? Think they know everything. Trouble is, with the bloody internet, they usually do. What’s a traditional sexist supposed to do now, I ask you? Endangered species, we are. Shall we just get him drunk and leave him halfway up a cliff?”

That was a good journey, switching between silly jokes and decent music. Dal had found a recording of Cyril Tawney from somewhere, and of course I had some Jez Lowe, as well as Brass Monkey and Eric Bogle, and when we weren’t verbally sparring, we were singing along, especially to Cyril and Eric; when I heard a sniffle behind me at ‘Reason For It All’, I avoided looking back. The lad had heart, I already knew that; he didn’t need embarrassing.

It was dry when we arrived, which disappointed my young lady, as there were no gloves to carry. The three of us settled our gear into the bunkhouse, and then it was a family meal, the ‘family’ in question including the Edwards, Dafi, as ever, close-coupled to Enfys throughout. Galadriel was there for the evening, and I noticed that neither Penny nor Keith used any English at all when speaking to her. I was a little in awe at both their commitment to their new home and their ability to pick up the language: I had never been a linguist, not really.

The club was on, this time without the complication the Woodruffs’ presence would have brought, which was fortunate, because Kul wanted to talk about Australia. During the break, as our friends went over to buy the obligatory raffle tickets, he prodded Dal to go and check out the crisp and dried fat selection, then turned back to me once the lad was far enough away.

“He had a little dig at you, Mike, mate”

“Don’t think it was a dig. I saw it---well, you’ll think I’m mad. I saw it as a vote of confidence. He’s right, really. Needs someone who’s been with the firm, the, bugger, the company ethos, yeah? Not that I wasn’t tempted, though”

Kul stared at me for a few seconds, before smiling and putting a hand on my forearm.

“No. Not coming on to you, mate. The lad’s spot on about her indoors. Can I ask a personal question?”

“Not stopped you before, mate, has it?”

He looked down at the table for a few seconds,

“When was the last time you went to see her, Mike?”

That cut straight through my armour, thinner by far than I had imagined it to be.

“Far too long, Kul”

“Then perhaps you need a visit. Betty says you were out of sorts the other day”

Shit. That was like the bloody Borg; that ‘corporate attitude’ the boss had been so insistent on clearly went further. Kul wasn’t finished, though.

“Please, once again, hear this how I mean it, yes? You have roots here. So do I, we, me and the boy. And the missus, to be clear. If I say ‘that other town that starts with L’, will you understand?”

“You’re talking about your own family”

“And its traditions? Oh, absolutely. They are a bit traditional, both sides”

He took a slow drink from his pint,

“What do you know about Sikhism, mate?”

I shrugged.

“Not much. Stuff like hair, and the bangle and knife thing”

“The Five K’s. Hair, comb, bangle, knife and underpants”

I must have looked surprised, for he grinned at me.

“Nothing kinky, mate. Just like shorts with a drawstring. And the knife’s really just symbolic, not like it used to be. Anyway, those are all just symbols. We have a very simple philosophy. One deity, equality for all human beings, protection of the weak. Those are probably why we got so much crap from the other big religions, and that’s why we got good at the fighting stuff”

“You good at fighting, then?”

“Me? Absolutely shit at it. Anyway, that’s the theory. Oh, and if you’re ever hungry near one of our temples, we give a free feed. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

I nodded, and he chuckled, not in a nice way, taking a quick look over his shoulder to see where Dal was, which was leaning against the bar watching us.

“My boy’s a good lad, Mike”

“I know that, Kul”

“And he knows when I want to have a bit of space. Right. This is the crunchy bit. We’re not that strict, our family. I mean, I wear the Five K’s, and so does the lad, but we’re not into five prayers in the morning or things like that. The faith does speak to me, though, because of what I told you: equality, respect, standing up for the weak, charity for anyone who needs it. It even kicked my backside when we met Stephanie as she now is”

“Eh?”

“Big tenet, Mike. Our deity is neither male nor female. None of that stuff about sky fathers. Got our own beards, we have; don’t need one up there. Anyway, we had loads of problems from the religions that were already there when we started out, and they left some marks”

“Such as?”

“Fucking caste system, mate. We’ve got our own little clubs, sects, whatever the right word is, and one of the things we picked up in India was their caste system. I mean, we’re supposed to be about equality, so how does that work?”

“Ah. Are you leading up to saying you’ve got a problem with the in-laws?”

“Not quite. It’s Sanny that’s from the wrong side, not me. My family’s the bigger problem. Hence that other Place That Starts With L. We do the family stuff now and again, like that day in Donny, but, well, going to Oz is not going to strain any bonds. Hang on”

He beckoned his son over, and once Dal was settled, Kul drained his pint.

“I’ll say this now, then I’ll get us a refill. It’s me that’s got the post in Australia”

Dal nodded at his words.

“You’ve been telling mike about Nana Butt, haven’t you?”

“Yes. Mike, there’s a lot of shit with the caste thing, and if I say ‘polluting precious bodily fluids’ or ‘touch of the tar brush’ you should get it”

“Ah. Yes”

“Indeed. Should have married a decent girl, possibly one of the cousins she had lined up ready. I said ‘no’, and that, my friend, is why it is me that is probably getting that move to Perth, and why I am actually looking forward to it despite all the upheaval. Sorry, but it really should have been you”

He rose, reaching for my glass.

“Same again? Oh, and the lad wants to know where we’re going tomorrow”

I slept well that night, and the morning arrived in a sunny mood. Enfys and Dafi were with us for a family breakfast in the house, my appetite already titillated by the smell of the fry-up some of the paying guests were preparing. The two kids were happily bouncing off each other, as well as what seemed like all the walls and floor, no sign of the misery the Edwards were worried about, and of course the prattle was all in Welsh. Penny looked at me with a broad grin.

“You’re not missing anything, Mike. They’re in a reception class at the moment, and it’s all about other kids and toys and stuff like that. What’s the plan for today?”

“Slog up a loose hillside, I think, for a couple of lower-grade classics. Just trying to decide between the Pass and the Valley”

“Valley. You’ll be thinking of Wrinkle or Flying Buttress, and if you do them both, that’s two big slogs. Got the Slabs, Tarw, Bochlwyd and the Milestone close together just up the road. How hard a route?”

Dal had looked up from his cereal as she spoke.

“Done Flying Buttress, Mrs Hiatt”

“Penny, son. Same name, different route, and this one’s a lot longer. Easier, mostly, though the walk in is a slog. Cromlech’s a long way up. What’s he done so far, Mike? Grade-wise?”

“Steph took him up a VS at Stanage. Heather Wall”

“Nice! How did you find that?”

“Dad couldn’t manage it”

“Not a competition, love. Except with yourself. Gloating’s not good”

Having said that, she looked at Keith and burst out laughing.

“Remember when you fell off The Tippler? Yes, Dal, no gloating, but friendly pi—er, mickey taking is fine. ‘Get a good jam in’, you said, if I remember correctly”

Keith was looking slightly pink.

“I did. It was a very good jam. Which is why I couldn’t get it out when I moved up”

I remembered that story, and took over.

“Big sticky-out roof climb, Dal. E1. You move out onto the lip of the roof, stick a bit of gear in, which is where something like that Friend thing Steph showed you is ideal. Pull up onto the face above using a heel hook and jams. Keith got halfway through, fully committed, and then he realised his hand jam was stuck in the crack”

“What did he do?”

Keith raised his left arm.

“Obviously didn’t fall on it. I got Pen to lock me off on the rope, and then I let go. Jam came free as I dropped, but then I’m hanging off a Hex 5 six feet from the rock. Bit ignominious, but I was about to peel anyway. I just got to keep my forearm unbroken. Mike?”

“Yes?”

One of us will do sprog watch, the other come with you. All multi-pitch routes up there, so this will let you do harder stuff without soloing next to them. Let’s do Arete and Marble on Bochlwyd, then walk over to Milestone for some of the simple stuff like Pulpit and Direct. Sound good?”

I nodded, and he grinned.

“Pen, we’ve got enough guests in for once, so it’s you that can get out. Kids can help me with the bunkhouse”

She looked down at Enfys and Dafi.

“You sure? Not seen him this bouncy for a while”

“They’ll wear out soon enough, once they’ve done a couple of chimneys”

“You, Hiatt, are a sod”

“But you love me for it!”

He was right, of course, and that was how our day went. Kul dithered over the awkward step past the overlap on Marble Slab, which always reminds me of the one on Seamstress, and once we were all sorted, we tramped across the hillside to Milestone, where Kul found the infamous knee-eating crack. It was a cracking hill day, and it was becoming crystal clear that Dal had been deeply bitten by the bug.

No, they weren’t off to Perth the next day, because there was an awful lot of paperwork to get sorted, but three months later, we gave the whole family a send-off in the Fettler’s. I stayed reasonably sober, and the day after they took a coach down to a hotel next to Gatwick, I was on much the same road, to visit Caro.

CHAPTER 24
Her place was a little overgrown, but I’d brought a few tools down with me just in case. As I removed a few weeds, preparing to plant a couple of bulbs, I found a plastic-wrapped card fastened to one of the flower pots.

‘If you read this Mike, a couple of us from the (climbing and folk) clubs stop by every couple of weeks to clean up. Not forgotten’

I had to take a few minutes on a bench after finding the note, for it dredged up a deep well of pain that I had almost managed to slip away from. It also showed me exactly how true my friends were. Our friends, that is, and in a perverse way, the responsibility I felt to them was what I was using to keep myself going. Can’t break, can’t let all our friends down.

I found a scrap of paper, jotting down a ‘Thanks; Mike’, and tucked it into the bag with the little card. Let them know I was still holding up, take one little bit of worry and pain from them. The decision came immediately, and it was ‘sod this place’; I went back to the bike, with no clear plan but to get away, and I ended up at a Youth Hostel I remembered from many years ago, at a place in Suffolk called Blaxhall. There was a common nearby, with a few tumuli on, and it was a short ride to Aldeburgh, where I spent the next day walking the length of Orford Ness, ostensibly for a look at the nuclear weapons test site but actually for the solitude that the huge sweep of shaggy grass and endless expanse of sea provided. American fighter jets roared overhead every so often, a few gulls screamed, and it all matched my mood as exactly as I could have wished.

Yes, there was a pub near the hostel.

Work felt strange without my sparring partner, but Betty and the rest did what they could to fill the gap, and yes, I did find my grins and jokes again. I had responsibilities, after all. Those responsibilities were actually more varied and very real, for without Kul, our individual workload naturally had to increase. The bosses were looking for new staff, but even after they had arrived, they would take time to get into the swing of it.

It was absorbing, though, which was exactly what I needed. We received an ‘all staff’ letter from Kul and his family a fortnight after they had left us, which carried a few pictures, all seeming to show nothing but blue skies. When they were passed around, Betty was the one to wave at the rain streaming down the office window, with a withering observation that it was ‘all right for some’.

That was a surprise, for she wasn’t usually one for snarkiness. I took the chance to ask when we were both brewing a cuppa, and she put her cup back down, leaning on the worktop on straight arms, head bowed.

“Mike, it’s not you, but, well, it is, sort of. Not deliberate, but with the Board, yeah?”

“Me? Have I done, said, something stupid? Sorry, whatever it is, was!”

She turned back to me, backside against the cupboards, arms folded.

“No, Mike, no you haven’t. Just, well, I would have fitted that Perth job as well as Kul. As well as you, in fact. Yes, I do understand you’re the one being groomed for any stage two expansion, and the reason is bloody sexism”

I couldn’t find anything sensible to say, but she switched to a slightly timorous smile.

“Sorry, Mike. None of that’s your fault, and anyway, I really doubt I could persuade him indoors to move all that way. It would be nice just to be bloody asked, for once!”

She stepped forward to give me a one-armed hug.

“Anyway, how did that trip to visit, you know… How was it?”

I found myself repeating her own posture, resting against the cupboards, my mug cradled in both hands.

“Found a note on her… you know; there, by the bulbs and stuff. Climbing club and the other lot, the folk club, they’re doing gardening there for me. Yes, I left a thank-you note. I couldn’t…”

I drew a long breath before trying to match her smile.

“I couldn’t face staying there, so I went somewhere we visited, early days, yeah? In Suffolk. Youth hostel on some proper heathland, then a walk from Aldeburgh, down Orford Ness”

“Heard of Aldeburgh. Music festival place?”

“Yes; Benjamin Britten. Anyway, there’s a long spit, Orford Ness, that I walked the length of”

“Not your usual sort of place, that. All flat”

“Whole point. Nothing to the East but open sea, and just rough grassland on the Ness. Solitude, Betty. Got some photos of the nuclear bomb test place, though”

Her jaw dropped.

“I thought we only tested those bloody things in the middle of sodding nowhere!”

“Not the actual bombs; just the explosive compression harness things. Got some old hangar things down there, very evocative for photos”

“So you’re not glowing in the dark, then?”

“Apparently not. But there is a nuclear power station just up the coast”

“Oh dear. Fish caught ready-cooked, then? Extra fingers on them?”

“Fish don’t have fingers, Betty”

“Well, explain what I gave my lot for tea yesterday, then!”

She was back, almost. I made to rise, and she put a hand against my chest.

“Forget what I said, Mike. You need this move, if it comes off, but don’t be surprised if I do my best to persuade my feller to go for the next one after you. No resentment?”

“No need, Bet. I was just surprised, you know. These days. Sexism and that”

She raised an eyebrow.

“What’s that yank phrase? Skin in the game? Well, if you have some, that’s when you start noticing. Better than it was, but not by much. Anyway, work won’t do itself, will it?”

Never a truer word, but I found myself watching others far more closely than I had been. ‘Skin in the game’, eh? Time to open my eyes wider, it seemed.

My own letter, together with a bundle of photographs, was waiting for me on the doormat three days later.

‘Dear Mike
Not going to write loads of stuff here, because Dad says it’s unmanly and inappropriate for Yorkshiremen, so I reminded him that we aren’t, but you know him. Just puts on a silly accent and talks nonsense. Locals think he’s hilarious.

Pictures are a mix. One is of the view over the Swan brewery from King’s Park in Perth. Another is a sea stack called the Sugarloaf, a long way from Perth. Dad’s got the loan of a car as part of the package, so we’ve been exploring. Another one’s of the huge beach near that stack—yes, we’ve been swimming! Not eaten by a shark yet. Not found anywhere to climb yet, either.

Company Dad’s contracting for have sorted us out a rental place at somewhere called Nollamarra or Nollamarrow or something like that. Address is at top of letter. People are being really friendly and stuff. Had a proper ‘barbie’ party a couple of days ago.

A different hand took over.

Hiya, mate. That’s the lad’s take, so I’ll add mine and Sanny’s bit. Flight was a slog, Dubai’s a hole, but this place is a jewel. It’s a big place, but most people still seem to act like it’s a village. They TALK to you, not like it is in those three Places That Start With L (third one’s London). Sanny’s reet made up, ‘appen (that’s for the boy’s benefit), because there’s a decent bus system, there’s masses to see and do, and this place really understands food. Says she’ll end up developing her own gravitation if we stay here.

Seriously, we are already wondering if it would be good to make this a permanent move. Early days, obviously, but…

Write soon, mate.

Kul, Dal, Sangeeta

The photos were stunning, and the beach one was odd, in that while I had seen more spectacular beach pictures, this expanse of sand clearly extended halfway to the next country, only the odd groyne breaking up the line of very gentle waves-to-land until it all hit a vanishing point. No crowds; very few people visible, full stop.

The ‘View from King’s Park’ made me smile, because of course Kul had included a brewery as a hint. If he couldn’t actually buy me a pint, then a picture of the source was better than nothing. It all looked clean, modern in a restrained way, and, above all, spacious. Two of the photos were of parrots, one a bottle-green, the other a soft pink, and they were the ones that had me setting it all aside, letter, pictures, half-drunk tea, and walking out into the rain as it fell on my little rear garden.

Birdwatching, indeed. Caroline’s life had been full of things she loved. The birds were one thing I had only half-shared, of course, as she was never as focused on climbing as myself, but in the others, we had found so much in common that we might have shared DNA. That thought, of course, brought up so many worms, so much might-have-been-and nearly-was, that I nearly found myself heading for the corner shop once more.

I was actually pulling on my jacket, having dumped my soaked sweater, when the phone rang.

“Hiya. Can I help you?”

“Mike? Bets here. What you up to tonight?”

Walking over to the Co-Op and buying booze, before starting the process of getting pissed, woman.

“Nothing in particular. Why?”

“You get a package from Kul? Letter and pics?”

“Yes. You as well?”

“Yup. Fancy comparing them? Down the Fettler’s? Give us a chance to check them with the owner. Didn’t fancy cooking, and him indoors can burn a salad, so we are eating there, and not fish fingers this time. You up for it?”

Not really, but it would interfere with getting wrecked: I couldn’t decide whether that would be a good or a bad thing, in the wider scheme of things.

“Yeah; go on. Time?”

“We’re setting off now. Got them to put a table aside for us. Dress code is whatever you didn’t sleep in last night”

I laughed, dutifully, and went to change into something better than the vest I had been wearing under the now-soaked sweater. I found an old rugby shirt that was recently washed, thought of running an iron over it, then decided against. Pint and a pie in a pub, not a posh feed. I did sort out a decent cag jacket, though; that rain was heavy.

The landlord caught my eye as I ordered a pint from his barman.

“With Bets tonight, mate?”

“Yup”

“Table over there by the fire‘ll be right, then. Got Parmo on special tonight, with wedges”

I nodded, wondering exactly what Aussie peculiarity a ‘Parmo’ might be, and settled into a chair close enough to the fireplace to stay warm without losing body hair, and took a deliberately-slow mouthful of ale. Better than falling asleep in a chair again, surely?

“Hiya Mike!”

“Oh, hi Doug, Bets!”

Betsy’s husband was carefully peeling his raincoat off so as not to shake water everywhere, as Betsy struggled to control their two nearly-teens.

“Joe! Take your sister’s coat as well! Doug, yours? Ta! Hang these up, and then back. You ordered, Mike?”

“Not yet. Our Host said something about a special tonight, but I have no idea what on Earth it is”

Doug pointed at my glass, and made the obvious gesture. I was more than a little surprised to see that my ‘deliberate mouthful’ had somehow almost emptied the glass.

“Yes, please, mate. And do you have any idea what a Parmo is?”

“Aye, I do. I’ll grab us drinks, and then explain. Teesside thing, it is”

That left me even more confused, but he was soon back with a tray of drinks, as two excited kids and Betsy settled themselves at the table, along with a woman I had never seen before.

Doug handed out the glasses, taking a chair next to his wife.

“Cheers, all! Oh, and this is my cousin, down from York for a few days. Pam Birtles, Betsy’s workmate, Mike Rhodes”

CHAPTER 25
She looked to be a year or two older than me, but her smile was a genuine one, if a little uncertain. It was clearly a set-up, but I didn’t think it would be polite to make a fuss. Have our meeting, poke fun at the photos, and then make a quick exit. Doug was back with the drinks, passing me a pint and his children a coke each before returning for the other adult drinks. Once settled, he passed me a sheet of paper with the day’s ‘specials’ listed.

“Parmo’s something popular up Teesside way, as I said. Now, I’ve had a word with him behind the bar, and he said something about it not being exactly what he expected. Seems there’s a difference between the Aussie one and the one his cook’s banged our”

I had no idea what that would be, so did the dumb-show for ‘And? Explain?’, but Bets was laughing. She turned to her husband.

“Remember Tim?”

“Aye, course”

“He said he tried one once, when he was up in Billingham. Couldn’t decide which smelled worse, the parmo or the chemical works”

Pam was shaking her head.

“You two are really selling this, but I’m still lost. Difference between Aussie and sort-of-local?”

Doug grinned.

“Well, the Aussie one is what was expected, which is chicken in breadcrumbs with a tomatoey pasta sauce stuff on top and a load of melted mozzarella. That’s chicken parmigiana. Parmo starts the same way, with the breaded chicken, but the topping’s a white sauce and melted cheddar. Betcher meal sauce?”

Pam said “Béchamel” and Doug nodded.

“That’s the one. Anyway, orders. Kids?”

Joe and Amy went for burgers, to nobody’s surprise. Betty opted for steak pie and chips, Pam for Cumberland sausage and mash, while Doug grinned at me.

“You know you want to! Go on; I am”

Two chicken parmos. I was feeling more than a little cornered, so my odd brain retaliated by paying for the food. I was just finishing the transaction when the cheesy smell caught my nose. Shaun, our landlord, winced slightly.

“Mate, that is so NOT what I bloody expected, ey? I mean, back home, everywhere, it’s a proper parmigiana and a bucket of wedges, that or fish and chips, and what he’s cooked up, all wrong. Where’s the sauce?”

I was still able to laugh.

“Well, I’ll let you know what I think. Now, if you get a few minutes, we’re actually here to look at some pictures”

“Didn’t think you lot were like that, mate. What’s the prices?”

“What? Oh! Not that sort of picture, you cheeky bugger. Kul’s sent us some from Perth”

“Oh! Ripper!”

“Sorry?”

He dropped his voice a little.

“Mate, sometimes I forget, doing the professional Aussie routine. If you ever catch me saying ‘cobber’ or ‘arvo’, just kick me”

“Will do”

“Food’s going to be half an hour, mate. And we actually have a run on the parmos. I blame that ale you all drink—kills the taste buds! Be over when I get a gap, but wait till after you’ve eaten; keep the grease off the pics”

I couldn’t argue with that last bit, so made my way back to our table.

“That’s the food ordered; half an hour or so till we get it. Compare pictures before we eat? Landlord’ll have a peek afterwards. Here’s my bundle”

Betty waved a similar envelope at me.

“Kul said he wasn’t going to duplicate any of the snaps, cause the cost gets silly.. Very clear that we have to share and compare”

Pam held up a hand.

“Greasy fingers, remember?”

Betty shrugged.

“Got a load of wet wipes in the handbag. Got three kids with me, so got into the habit. Yes I meant you, Doug. I think we do one pack now, then the other after filling our faces. Mike?”

“Okay, then. I’ll try and remember what Kul wrote about them. This is the brewery…”

I worked steadily through the ten pictures, the beach photo bringing a sigh from Betty.

“All that sand, and nobody there! Marbella it isn’t. Every square foot there has someone on it!”

We were on the parrot pictures when Shaun brought our food over, and he pointed at the pink one.

“Galah, that one. Common as, that. So’s the other; it’s a Twenty-Eight”

Pam grinned up at him.

“Why Twenty-Eight? There’s only one in the picture”

“Ah, it’s their call”

He made an odd sort of squeak or rather squawk, with that rhythm, ‘twenty eight’, and Bets snorted.

“You being serious? Noise like that?”

“Ah, you want to hear the magpies when they get going. Who’s got the pie?”

He dished out the food, and yes, the smell of the parmo had an almost solid existence of its own. I simply stared at it for a minute, remembering Sangeeta’s reported comment about developing her own gravitational field. How many bloody calories were in the thing? Sod it: dive in, Rhodes.

It wasn’t bad, but I couldn’t see myself eating it on a regular basis, as the cheese alone would probably fill a week’s allowance of lard, fat, grease, whatever it was Bets had called men’s essential food groups. Doug topped up our drinks partway through, but even with the ale as a solvent, I couldn’t finish the thing.

Shaun appeared at the table, an old pia box in hand.

“Doggy bag?”

Betty’s husband looked up at that, then at me, so I just nodded and Betty herself turned the word from ‘doggy’ to ‘Dougie’ before producing the promised pack of wet wipes. Shaun spotted her move, and pulled over another chair.

“Right, you lot… Ah! Swan brewery. That’s all the Swan river, all that water. Got dolphins in there”

Joe looked up sharply.

“Really? Can you swim with them?”

“Ah not so much there, mate. Better to go down to Mandurah. They come into the shallows”

Both Joe and Amy were hanging on Shaun’s words, and as the rest of us sipped, he worked through the two bundles.

“That’s a magpie, mate! Bloody vicious bastards. Don’t like cyclists; go for your eyes, they do”

Pam looked at the bird, a pied thing that looked nothing like a real magpie, especially not in its long and pointed beak.

“You said about their song, Shaun?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah/ Perth’s a bit odd with birdsong, cause they introduced a lot of stuff without thinking”

Ammy asked, “Like rabbits? I heard about the fences”

“yes, love. Like the rabbits. Mostly in the East, though. Perth’s got Aussie birds that don’t belong there, though. Kookaburra’s one, rainbow lorikeet’s another. Both noisy bastards. Maggies, though, they’re native. Sorry, don’t know your name?”

“Pam. His cousin”

“Pam. Hi; Shaun. You see that Vin Diesel film? The darkness one?”

“Pitch Black? Oh, yes. Bloody scary!”

“Well, maggies and currawongs, which are even bigger bastards, are part of a group called butcher birds”

Betty burst out laughing.

“You are not exactly selling that place, mate!”

He grinned happily.

“Wait till I get onto spiders and snakes, woman. And box jellies, blue rings, salties, white pointers…. Anyway. Maggie song. All the butcher birds like to sing, and maggies are usually in mobs, and it’s like a choir. That noise in the film, where the monsters are waking up? That’s what maggie song is like”

Pam was clearly fascinated.

“That’s… That’s scary!”

“Yup. Some people like it, but it always makes my skin crawl”

“Do the wotsit keets sing?”

“The rainbow lorikeets? No, they just squawk. They’re really Queensland birds, so they’re as thick as those rednecks are. That’s the far North East of Oz. Think hats with corks on strings around them, men in singlets and knee-shorts”

“Singlet?”

“Vest. Think the Yanks call them wifebeaters”

Doug coughed, and Shaun blushed slightly.

“Sorry, mate. Just getting a bit nostalgic. Oh, that’s Maggy River. Think tour cliché Aussie bloke, that’s Queensland. This is Maggy River; think more like Haworth, or maybe Richmond. Culture, right?”

Betty waved another picture at him, with what looked like badly-made cut-outs of Beefeaters and similar non-Australian imagery.

“And this rubbish? This is culture?”

His blush grew stronger.

“Yes, well. Really nice buildings there, honest. That’s London Court”

He spread his arms.

“What can I say? It’s a tourist attraction!”

Doug laughed.

“I ask myself what sort of tourists your city is trying to attract, and why! Given what the rest of the pics show, why on Earth would anyone want this?”

Pam slapped his arm.

“You’re embarrassing him, Dougie! Stop it”

“Okay, but, well! Shaun?”

“Yes, mate?”

“Last question, cause there’s someone at the bar. What the hell is that?

The photo showed a solid-looking lizard with tiny legs, a bright blue tonguing hanging from its open mouth. Shaun perked up again.

“Ah, that’s a bluey! Some people call them stumpies, cause of the tail. Blue-tongued skink. Harmless as, they are”

He paused for a few seconds, then said, in a much quieter voice, “Learned something I didn’t know about them, couple of years ago. I’LL BE WITH YOU IN A MINUTE, MATE!”

He turned back to us with a hint of a grimace.

“We get a lot of roadkill back home, especially in the RFO. Much of it’s roos, and they can do a lot of damage when you hit them. Blueys, though; you find them on the edges of the roads, usually alive, next to a squished one”

He drew a breath before looking directly at me, then quickly away.

“Thing I learned is that they mate for life. When one of them gets squished, the other one stays with the body. You can work out the rest. They don’t move on, just stay there and wait their own turn. Sorry: bit of a downer, that”

He rose abruptly, heading towards his customer, and I caught his train of thought without the need for telepathy.

Was that me, waiting for my own turn?

I looked across at Pam, who was staring towards the bar, and caught her whisper to her cousin.

“Is Shaun single, Dougie?”

CHAPTER 26
I found myself struggling to keep my grin down, as Betty had clearly planned on shoving Pam in my direction. Shaun’s comments about his local lizard were still at the front of my mind, though, and I took a moment to think it all through.

Was I pleased at Pam’s shift of focus onto Shaun because I was one more roadside lizard waiting for the squish, or for other reasons? She was far from unattractive, and seemed good company, at least so far. Was I tuning all women out, or just her? Was I waiting for someone to enter my life, or just for the next car?

“You okay, Mike?”

“Um? Sorry; miles away, Bets”

“Thinking about Australia?”

“Sort of. Kul seems to have fallen on his feet out there”

“Yeah, but I was looking at a map the other day, seeing where exactly it’s near. Perth. Short answer is sod all”

I watched as Pam made a point of going to the bar to order the next round, and took a mouthful of beer before turning to Betty with a smile.

“Yeah, I read somewhere that it’s the most isolated capital city in the world. State capital, of course. Then I looked at that pic of the brewery, and thought, Mike, my boy, it’ll all be lager, and there’s nowhere even close you can escape to for a decent pint”

Betty waved her glass at me.

“Yeah, but some of us like a glass of better stuff, and there’s supposed to be good wine out there. And sorry about Pam”

“Pardon?”

“Ah, just a thought, aye?”

I put my glass down, turning back to Betty.

“No matchmaking, please, love. Things will happen, or they won’t, and no sense in trying to force them along. Anyway, Shaun and her seem to have hit it off, so the evening’s not been wasted”

“Yeah, but, well. But. What you said, that’s the thing. The isolation. Dal’s off to university soon, and that would have to be in Perth. If we move out there, it’ll be the same for Joe and Amy, and neither of them is as academic as Kul’s boy. If they do their college time here, there’s a load of places, choices. Opportunities that don’t mean having to move thousands of miles away. Yes, I would be off to Oz like a shot, but the more I think about the kids, the less comfortable I feel about a move”

She sipped her own wine, watching as her children bounced pool balls off each other on the pay-to-play table.

“Leaving the next slot for you, Mike. What I said about skin in the game goes for the kids as well. Doug and me, well, we’ve talked it all out, and until they’re through college, that’s us tied to England. Speaking of which… Not England. Would you be up for showing us all a bit of that bit of Wales you go to? Won’t be getting us up any crags, but be nice to see the big hills”

“You worried about me being there on my own?”

My thoughts twitched straight back to myself unroped on the Slabs, and Steph as well, and something must have shown in my face, for Betty took my hand for a couple of seconds.

“No, cause I know you stay with friends. Be nice to be cheeky and use them for an adventure”

“Eh?”

“Kids, love. Let them play at expeditions in that bunkhouse, and me and Doug, we can read maps. I can squeeze onto the back seat with the offspring. Never been over that way, so it will be a first for me and him as well. You okay with the idea?”

Her gaze went over to the bar, where Pam was still standing, despite all of our drinks having been delivered, the woman deep in smiling conversation with our pet ‘cobber’.

“Yeah. Why not? Let me know which weekend works for you. Got decent outdoor kit? Waterproofs?”

She burst out laughing.

“Doug’s got family in Manchester, Mike. What do you think?”

I gave her the obligatory laugh, and settled down to my pint.

Isolation, indeed. Nothing to remind me of certain things, and that note from the clubs had left me in a better state of mind about her grave. Right… If Kul could show the value of the idea, that it made sense economically, then we were Go. Could I step away from that next car?

Either way, a fortnight later we were packed into Doug and Betty’s Volvo as we rolled smoothly along the north Welsh coast before the turn down the Conwy Valley.

“Why not come in from the Bangor end, Mike? Looked simpler on the map”

“Simple, Doug. Popping down to Betws is a much, much prettier way. Kids got their cameras?”

Betty gave an affirmative from the back seat, and I turned back to Doug.

“Couple of good photo opportunities on the road. I’ll give you fair warning before them, but only if the clouds are up on top rather than clagging the valley bottom”

“Will we see Snowdon, Uncle Mike?”

“I hope so, Joe. That’s why we’re coming this way. Great view of Snowdon, then a really spectacular valley”

Amy piped up.

“I need a wee, Mam!”

Joy.

“There’s a supermarket in about two miles, Doug. I know for a fact they’ve got loos. Joe?”

Betty called back.

“He’ll go when Amy does. Give us a chance to get a peace offering for your mates. What do they drink?”

“Alcohol. And tea”

“Men! Ale, wine, what?”

“Keith and Penny are both ale drinkers, but wine is still welcome. Don’t know about the Edwards”

“Who are we staying with?”

“Keith and Pen, the Hiatts. They’ve got the bunkhouse. Edwards are their best mates, so you’ll meet them”

“Right. The Hiatts snobby about cans?”

“As opposed to bottles? Don’t think so. As long as it’s a decent brew”

“Then we’ll get a slab, if they have one, and a couple of bottles. Oh, and usual brekky stuff. That it ahead?”

“Yup! In here, mate”

The shopping was done efficiently, and for once Betws wasn’t a solid traffic jam. Up past the Falls, the Ugly House drawing laughter from the children, and then the steady ascent past the pubs until we were approaching the Caernarfon turn.

“Down here to the left, mate. There’s a couple of lakes that’ll give you a view”

Past the Brenin, almost to Garth Farm, the oohs and ahs growing more frequent from the back seat, and finally into a favourite lay by, where we all scrambled out, several cameras ready. Joe was snapping away, but Amy was the more curious.

“Is that Snowdon, Uncle Mike?”

“Yes. See the three peaks on the right? Snowdon’s the left hand one”

“Have you climbed it?”

“Many times, love. Bit of a long walk, but not too hard”

Joe was insistent now.

“Can we go up it, Dad?”

“We can, son, if Uncle Mike thinks it’s safe”

There went my Saturday, I realised. Never mind; it would repay them for the lift, and I could do with a day in company. I smiled at them all.

“If it’s a decent day, we’ll do the Pyg track, but we will need to get there early or all the parking will be gone”

Betty murmured something about not getting wrecked that evening, and I grinned.

“Probably down the pub on Saturday night, though, so you will have the opportunity”

I almost dragged them back to the car, and we turned in the road to head back to Capel Curig and the run through the Valley, which brought more gasps and three, count them, photo stops, including the obligatory ‘secret bridge’ one, which left Betty laughing with joy. Finally, we were at the bunkhouse and unloading. I had given Keith a ring as we crested the pass below Pen yr Ole Wen, and two more small persons were waiting to help lift and carry. As usual, they were chattering away to each other, and I had to explain to Joe and Amy that yes, people around that part of the world had their own language. Pen looked a little stressed to my eyes, but she still found smiles for all four children.

“What you up to tomorrow, Mike?”

“Ah, this lot fancy Snowdon, so I thought I’d take them up the Pyg. Get up early for the parking”

“No need. Bus running this time of year, and we have a friend who’ll let us park at the Brenin. Nine of us will fit in two cars”

“Nine?”

Keith, me, two kids, your crew”

She waved at Dafi as he ran after Enfys carrying a rolled up sleeping bag.

“This one… issues, ah? He’s fine with ours, but has been having panic attacks around other boys. Your mate’s lad, well, got his sister with him, so the focus is altered. Anyway, how’s your other mate doing? And his own boy?”

“Ah, we’ve brought some photos up. Thought we’d share them down the pub tomorrow”

Keith called over, “And what’s wrong with at the pub tonight?”

I shrugged.

“I was working on an assumption of the usual shite parking at Pen y Pass, so an early start. I assume we can forget that as a need, then?”

“Yup. And it’s a club night tonight, so usual plan. No paid guest. Your mates like music?”

“Ask them yourself!”

It turned out that all four of them were willing to adapt their musical tastes for the sake of beer and pub grub, so it was a party of eleven that evening, which became a potentially unlucky thirteen, until that man Illtyd joined Steph’n’Geoff at our little group of tables. Beer was indeed drunk, I had gammon and chips, and I almost missed it when Enfys, Amy and Dafi went off to the loo together.

I supposed it was safer that way, and while he was almost ready for junior school, he was still a ‘little’. Nansi caught my eye, after a sharp look over at Steph, and slipped into the chair Bets had vacated on her way to the bar.

“I saw where you were looking, Mike. He’s getting a bit funny about toilets. Teachers say he won’t go into the boys, won’t use urinals. He’s… He won’t really settle with boys, r a lot of the girls. I know Pen had a word with you, but when you’re out tomorrow, just let him go where he wants, please. And he does a CBT, not a stand and point”

Cold Bum Toilet; one of Caro’s jokes, one she had shared with Penny. Squatting in the open rather than standing, hence the name for it. I watched Steph head off to the ladies’ just as all three kids returned, and I wondered.

The weather the next morning was superb, and I was pleased to see that none of my Sheffield friends was wearing jeans, always a ‘NO!’ for the hills. The bus was on time at the Brenin, and all four kids were chattering away, Enfys and Dafi switching seamlessly from English to Welsh and back again. We passed through the little gateway, and yet again had a photo stop when I pointed out the view down the Pass, with the huge open-book corner of the Cromlech. Over the Bwlch y Moch and around the bowl of Cwm Dyli, the kids all bouncing while Bets panted a little, and then that slog up the zigzags to the railway line, which brought some gasps from the older pair of children. That was topped by their delight at finding a café at the summit, where they each sent a Specially Stamped Postcard home before running up the steps to the actual summit marker and even more photos.

I had to kick myself a couple of times in reminder that this was their very first time experiencing things I had done all too many times. And yes: Dafi did insist on using the ladies’ toilets, but he was still smiling when we got back down to the car park.

CHAPTER 27
Work was a bit of a cold shower after the weekend, but Betty had enough pictures on her digital camera to keep our colleagues happy at our first post-work visit to the regular place for drinkies and pisstaking. There were the usual dreadful-but-traditional joking comments about rain and sheep, plus far more serious ones about the shots of the Hiatt’s bunkhouse.

Betty’s kids had been lifted onto the top of the summit pillar on Snowdon, so those pics brought appreciative noises, and when Shaun collected the first of our empties, he took a moment to look through some of the shots.

“Who’re the two girls, mate?”

Bets looked up from sorting her cash for another round.

“My Amy, love, and little Enfys. She’s Mike’s mates’ kid”

Shaun shook his head.

“No, Bets. I know your kids. The other littler one”

“That’s the… He’s the son of some friends of Mike’s mates, Shaun. Him and Enfys, joined at the hip, they are. Fit as little fit things as well, going up that mountain. Thought I was going to see my breakfast again, along with my lungs, and they’re playing bloody tag”

I kept my counsel about that particular issue, because Shaun’s comment had started a train of thought that was, in the end, inevitable. Little Dafi didn’t play any musical instruments, as far as I knew, and unless the Edwards were remarkably liberal, he certainly wasn’t going to be spending a lot of his time like the proverbial newt, but. Just but.

I said nothing, but when I had settled into bed that evening I still found those thoughts tumbling round each other. Sleep was slow in coming, mostly down to one unanswered question: should I presume to ask the Edwards? They were friends of Penny and Keith, first and foremost, and while I now considered them as my own, what place was it of mine to interfere in how they saw and brought up their child?

My last thought as I drifted off was ‘leave well alone’, combined with ‘be there if needed’.

Doug, Betty and their two weren’t as committed to the hills as Kul and his boy, but we did get some reasonably regular trips in, and I managed some outings to Stanage and Froggatt by way of second-hand arrangement via Keith. I always enjoyed a bit of soloing, and it was fun to help kids or newbies to take their first upward steps, but now and again I really needed the chance to push myself on something hard that wasn’t likely to leave an impact crater if I got it wrong. That meant having a second capable of handling the other end of the rope in a competent way, especially if using twin technique.

That brought another little moment of education, or perhaps realisation. The Woodruffs lived south of London, almost under Gatwick Airport’s flightpath, and it made no sense to me that they should book a hotel or camp when my own house was almost next door to the Edges. The realisation in question was that while I had thought I accepted her as what she had declared herself to be, I still seemed to have some remnants of memory blurring my perception.

Tall men didn’t sleep with shorter men if both declared themselves to be straight. Straight men didn’t come downstairs to breakfast in a cotton nighty and slobby cardigan, and kiss men on the cheek in greeting. Straight men sharing a bed didn’t make the sort of noise I half-heard when going to the loo in the middle of the night.

It seemed that my hindbrain was far less adaptable and accepting than I had realised, but it was that sound of their intimacy that finally cracked the dam that was blocking things. It was nothing like a porn film’s soundtrack, certainly nothing graphic, but rather a few soft moans and two words from Steph.

“Oh, love!”

How hard must she have had to work at her life to hide who she so obviously was in reality? I felt absolutely awful, first for overhearing such a private moment, but then, in shame, for my own prejudice. I had thought myself so modern in my outlook, so up to the moment with Stuff, and yet there I was. I found myself thinking of little Dafi, and slowly becoming more and more certain about the source of their problems.

Oh, for a bloody simple life.

Trips to North Wales continued, of course, sometimes accompanied by Bets and her family, and each time I saw Dafi, my certainty grew. I simply couldn’t bring myself to raise the subject until the two children were around eight years old, and in junior school. I had turned up solo for a surprise visit, a last-minute Friday afternoon decision, working on the assumption that there would be room at the bunkhouse or maybe in a spare bed or on a vacant piece of floor at Chez Hiatt, and to my surprise Keith was on his own. He didn’t exactly seem overjoyed to see me--- no. He didn’t seem displeased to see me, but rather that he didn’t know what to do about my presence at his door. As I smiled, he visibly collected himself before inviting me in.

“Sorry, mate. Stuff going on. Cuppa?”

“Please. Penny not back? Enfys?”

He stopped in the kitchen, kettle in hand and his back to me, shoulders slumped.

“Pen’s down the hospital with her. Ysbyty Gwynedd, ym Mangor—er, in Bangor. Habit”

“Shit! They okay?”

He took a long, sighing breath and started to fill the kettle, setting it onto its stand and flicking the switch.

“Tea or coffee, Mike?”

“Tea. Please answer the question, Keith. Starting to worry me”

Another deep sigh.

“Not us or ours, mate. It’s the Edwards”

“What’s happened?”

“Dafi. He… Dafi took an overdose”

“You fucking what?”

“What I said. Not sure what he took, but Pen took Enfys down because, well, because. Dafi talks to her. Nansi and Vic, they’re in real shit state”

I found myself sitting on one of the little stools, my legs deciding to do their own thing just then.

“But he’s, what? Nine years old?”

“Coming up to ten. Old enough, Mike, or so it seems”

“Yes, but why?”

The answer to that question was already there, of course, but I held it back. Not my place, and if I were wrong, it could cause all sorts of issues that the Edwards clearly didn’t need right then, as their plate would be far more than full.

“Talk to me, Keith. Don’t need to know everything. Just, well, you know”

He set a couple of mugs onto the little table and pulled up another stool.

“Pen’s supporting them, you know what she’s like. Littl’un is there in case the kid wants to talk. She’s the only one he does engage with. Shit. Using bloody stupid words now. Mike, Dafi’s been getting steadily more of a problem, especially over the last year. He’s been beaten up by several of the other boys, a couple of them making it a regular thing. Not washing hasn’t helped, I suppose. I’ve been wondering all sorts of things, particularly about autism, but the main thought is about senior school. If he’s getting slappings and shoeings from Junior school kids, it’s going to get a lot worse in big school”

He took a sip from his own mug.

“Enfys has been superb with him, but she’s the only one he ever spends time with. That’s why she’s over there with Pen. Oh, and you are on your own this trip?”

I smiled.

“Bit late to ask, but yes”

“Thank fuck for that. Not putting down your friends, but we’re in a bit of a state here just now. Got space in the bunkhouse, of course, but you might be a bit left on your own. Sorry”

His expression was bleak.

“What do we do, mate?”

I put a hand to his forearm, remembering that word from Steph, knowing how different Keith and I were in our friendship to how she was with her husband, but still reaching deep to find something like their strength.

“We do what we can, Keith. First, though, we do our best to find out what they need from us”

“True words, mate, as always. Hang on—phone’s ringing”

He went into the living room, and I got the standard half a conversation until he explained my presence to whoever was at the other end.

“Mike’s turned up, Vic. What’s the plan? Okay, I’ll ask”

He turned back to me.

“Nansi and the other two girls are staying the night. Vic’s heading back, and intends to pick up some chips. Just needs your order”

“Um, steak and kidney pie and chips?”

“Right. You get that, Vic? Kate and Sidney plus chips. Couple of battered sausages for me. Yes chips as well. In an hour? I’ll have the kettle on. Oh, and do any of them need a night bag?”

He listened in silence for a few seconds, then nodded at the phone.

“You wait there, then. I know where Pen keeps her night stuff, and I’ll nick something for Nansi. Got an unused toothbrush or two in the bathroom. I’ll drop that lot off and bring you back, so that Nansi and Pen have two cars. Flexibility, ah?

He switched to Welsh for a couple of exchanges, and then finished the call.

“Mike, you happy waiting here? I assume you got the gist of that. Be off as soon as I’ve packed, and then we, me and Vic, we’ll grab food on the way back. Sorry, but not doing ale tonight. Just in case, ah?”

“Understandable, mate. What was all that… Start again. Are you able to tell me what all that was in Welsh?”

He shook his head.

“Sorry, Mike, but not just yet. The Edwards’ business. I’ll be as quick as I can. Broadband wi-fi code’s next to the telly if you want it”

Ten minutes later and he was gone, as I wondered how right I was in my suspicions.

CHAPTER 28
He was back with Vic in under an hour, the smell of the chips strong in the kitchen. Vic dished them out as Keith poured mugs of tea, and I simply waited for what they felt they could tell me. Vic looked drained, so after a few minutes of his almost mechanical intake pf chips, I changed my mind and risked a question.

“You okay, Vic?”

He looked across to Keith for a moment before turning back to me.

“Not really, Mike. What’s Keith told you?”

I avoided Keith’s eyes, framing my words as best I could to avoid dropping him in it.

“All I know is that Dafi’s been having a shit time at school, and he’s ended up in dock as a result”

Vic drew some long, slow breaths, took another look at Keith, then gave me an absolutely bleak smile.

“He put himself in there, Mike. Could have been a lot worse, to be honest. Overdose”

Stay frosty, Michael.

“What did he take?”

“Ah, that’s what I meant by ‘worse’, Mike. He’s nearly ten, that’s all, and tablets are tablets. He took a load of them probably hoping not to wake…”

He lost it just then, the sobs almost exploding from him, and we two men sat there, in our manky way, until he was able to be manly in his own right. Cowards, Keith and myself, but Vic got there in the end.

“What he took was some stuff Pen got when she was having serious allergy issues. Prescription antihistamines. That’s what he took, rather than paracetamol or sleeping pills, and that is indeed what I meant by that word. Next time, though?”

I pushed away my own cowardice and reached across for his hand, greasy from the chips, but so what?

“What’s… what do the pills do, as an overdose?”

“Drowsiness. Balance stuff. Worst case, they depress breathing and bugger up the heart. It’s next time, though, and he isn’t talking to us. Not saying why he did it. What it was we did wrong”

I drew in a long breath of my own, weighing my options, then gave his hand a squeeze.

“Vic, going to go out on a limb here. This is just my own guess, based on a couple of things; if I’m wrong, just slap me”

Breathe again.

“It was a comment from my local pub landlord. I was showing some pics around, from when Betty and her lot went up Snowdon with us. Shaun, that’s the landlord, he asked who the other little girls were. Enfys and Dafi were who he meant”

“You don’t think that he was just…?”

“No, mate, not like that. It was another thing, really. I had Steph and her man staying over, so we could do some stuff on grit, and…”

‘Oh, love’ and deep breathing from the guest bedroom.

“Let’s just say it’s one thing accepting her as what she says she is when we’re sitting in the pub, and it’s a completely different thing when, you know?”

Keith coughed, looking slightly pink.

“When you realise they’re being rather intimate?”

I nodded.

“Exactly. Not going any further than that, but you get my point. Has Dafi ever said anything like that?”

Vic looked down at his knees before nodding, then shaking his head.

“Not explicitly, no. Couple of times… Said something about girls, and meaning him and Enfys, and… Mike? Remember when he had all those bruises on his face?”

“Yeah. One of those kickings from school”

“No, not entirely. Inside these walls, ah? After that beating, I found him headbutting his bedroom wall. Self-harm. Other stuff as well. To be honest, the only times I’ve seen him happy recently have involved little Enfys. Pen…”

He shook his head once more.

“Not going to say much more. Don’t want to end up convincing myself of something that might turn out to be a mistake, ah? Not trying to put you down, Mike”

“Not taking it that way, mate. Just flying a kite, brainstorming sort of thing. I get that way when I have a shock”

This time, Vic stared straight at me, head cocked slightly to his left.

“I’d guessed that, Mike. It’s one thing I’ve been banking on. Confession time for me: Keith told me some of your history. Going through old pictures, and you’re in so many of theirs, and it was one of those evenings with enough food and too much beer and wine, ha, and malts as well, and he told me about, about your wife, ah? Carolyn? And I remember thinking, when I met you, how strong you have to be to get through that, and be who you are, and we need…”

With that, he was weeping, and Keith was leaving the room to collect some glasses and a small jug of water. As we waited in our manly way for Vic to return to us, he was pulling bottles from a sideboard.

“I think one of us needs to stay sober, and I’m sorry, Vic, that’s not you”

I held up a hand.

“My job, I think, lads. What are you starting with, Keith?”

“Well, a mild one first. Highland Park, ten years old. Orkney distillery, Vic…”

I got them upstairs while they were still mobile, putting Vic into the little girl’s room, before settling myself down for the night on the settee. The phone rang at two AM.

“Keith?”

“No, Pen: Mike”

“What the fu--- I mean, thank god. Wasn’t expecting you. Unexpected weekend?”

“Exactly. Walked into, well, you know. How is he?”

“Ah, curled up with Enfys. How are those two? Pissed?”

“Basically, yes. I saw them work through Keith’s malts, after I volunteered for duty sober person”

She sighed down the phone.

“Yeah, best way. Out of Nansi’s earshot at the moment, so I can talk. Vic was losing it, and better drink in company than solo. Nansi’s not much better, which is understandable”

That was Penny as I knew her, so strong in a crisis she had walked out on Keith rather than see him lost.

“What did Vic tell you?”

“Antihistamine overdose”

“That’s the headline. My worry, and I know the Edwards are on the same track, is what happens next time, what he might take, unless we can sort out the driver. This was no bloody ‘cry for help’ cliché, Mike. If he was doing that, he’d have gone up to Vic or Nansi and said ‘taken pills’, rather than necking a whole bottle and then getting his head down in bed. He was being serious about it”

“I know. Been having some thoughts about it, before this shitshow”

I brought her up to speed with Shaun’s comments, to a chorus of mphs and ahs of agreement.

“Enfys asked me the other day about something the boy asked her: when could he have a different name?”

I could feel the grunt leave me. Penny’s voice was softer when she next spoke.

“You’re thinking about Steph, aren’t you?”

“I am. Could be completely off route, though. What do you think?”

“Me? I wonder, if we’re right, how Vic will take it. Dad and lad, Vic, ever since the birth”

“You say ‘if we’re right’, Pen?”

“Oh hell aye, love. Haven’t I always been the sharper one? Sorry, not meant as a slap. Just rather fucking stressed out. Yes, ‘we’. Lots of little things, clues and stuff, so, yes, we’re on route, or at worst on a variation. Let’s hope it’s Verandah Buttress rather than Sundowner”

I got the reference immediately, the hope that we were on a route with a single hard move before easier ground, and a lot of protection, rather than something that was consistently hard, and effectively a roped solo: come off, and end up in the morgue at worst.

“Got you, Pen”

“Yeah. Let him, her, whatever, let them see they’re on a top rope, not solo”

There were other sounds on the line, and I realised she had followed Vic’s example, weeping as silently as she could manage. You haven’t noticed, Rhodes, not at all.

“The two lads are in bed. I put Vic in Enfys’ room, and I’m in my bag on the settee. Got a plan?”

“Beyond just staying with them till they’re somewhere more stable? Not a chance. Can I beg a favour?”

“Stupid question. What do you need?”

“Nothing much. I will assume that those two will be off driving duties for most of tomorrow, and I need some basics like clean knickers and toiletries. Keith knows where everything is. Oh, and same for Enfys and Nansi so Vic will have something to take his mind off things”

She actually chuckled.

“You always wanted to get into my knickers, admit it!”

Not at all, but she was at least laughing. I found a scrap of paper and made some quick notes as to what they needed, which ward to aim for and so on.

“Got all that, Pen. See you tomorrow?”

“Will do. And Mike?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks, love”

“Don’t be daft, woman. Sleep as best you can, and I’ll get my head down as well. Night”

Not just me, then, wondering about the child. I spread my sleeping bag before stripping down to my boxers and stretching out on the settee, my mind spinning its wheels with images of Dafi as someone else.

The other two lads were slower out of bed than me, but I soon had a couple of packages of clothing and sundries from Keith, Vic taking a little longer to collect his own family’s essentials, but after a skimpy breakfast, I was off on the bike for the hospital.

I’d managed to fit everything into my throwovers, along with the bike locks, so it was a simple stroll along endless corridors until I was at the children’s ward. They had my friends in a private room, thankfully, so we were spared an audience for the inevitable tears. Nansi was almost embarrassing in her welcome.

“Thank god you came over, Mike. How are the boys?”

Pen was standing behind her, and I got a slight head shake, so I made no mention of my thoughts.

“Both a little sore in the head this morning, Nansi. Now, got a mix of stuff here. Yours is this side, Pen and Enfys that one. Blame your husbands for any errors; I’m just the messenger”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine”

“Vic packed some paperbacks for Dafi. I can pick up some comics or that if it would be better”

Nansi shook her head.

“He’s a reader, is Dafi. I mean, he reads books rather than cartoons. Advanced for… for his age”

The cracks were still there, clearly. A nurse tapped on the doorframe, smiling as she asked if she could take the usual measurements, and Pen asked if she could suggest anywhere the girls could go to change, freshen up, et cetera.

“Absolutely! Just along there, two combination shower rooms and toilets. You be long?”

“Shouldn’t be. This is Uncle Mike; he can answer most questions if you need him”

“No. Just usual BP, temperature and blood oxy levels”

“Fine. Back as soon as we can. Enfys? Teeth and face time”

The three were off, drawn by the prospect of cleaner clothing as the nurse bustled through her checks.

“Er, Uncle Mike?”

“Mike Rhodes. Yes?”

“Doctor will be round in about ninety minutes for the daily checks. You okay with Dafi here till the ladies are back?”

I turned to Dafi, asking if he would be all right with me, and he simply nodded. I settled into the easy chair beside him, with a sigh, then looked him in the face.

“Got a question for you, Dafi. Not a nasty one, just something I was wondering about, something that might help. You okay with that?”

He looked away for a few seconds, then back at me.

“You won’t get it”

“I might”

“Mam can’t”

“I think she can, Dafi”

“What’s the question?”

‘First, do no harm’. No choice, Rhodes, and the harm was already evident.

“Dafi, are you really a boy?”

He stared at me, mouth slightly open and tears starting to flow, and slowly but clearly shook his head.

“No, I’m not”

CHAPTER 29
I was caught, well and truly. It wasn’t solving a puzzle, it wasn’t confirming my guesses, but rather receiving the two-edged gift of the hand grenade of Dafi’s confidence. That phrase actually ran through my head, and as one part of my brain ran off arguing about whether grenades had edges, the rest of me simply sat and stared, trying to work out a much more important question: what the hell to do now?

Dafi was staring at me, and as I wobbled his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and tears. Shit.

Deep breath and deep end, Rhodes.

“If you’re not a boy, Dafi, what are you?”

His mouth twisted, and there was clearly intelligence in his answer, as well as what sounded like the start of despair replacing the hope I had glimpsed. This was no stupid child.

“Uncle Mike, what do you think? We did Venns at school in sums. Sets. Only two sets here, and if I’m not in one…”

What the hell was a child who wasn’t yet ten doing with set theory?

“Dafi, can I make a promise to you?”

“What about?”

“I promise to do my best for you, to try and understand, but I need a promise from you in return”

He stared at me, his own mind clearly turning its own somersaults, and then asked me what promise I needed from him.

“Just don’t laugh when I get things wrong”

That brought a chuckle, immediately followed by a sudden flood of tears, so I reached out to hold him, and his fingers dug deep into my back. Poor, poor child. If…

My own tears ambushed me, and somehow we ended up with a child comforting an oversized adult, and Carolyn was there with me, the loss slicing through me in the most painful of ways, and I could hear her voice.

One child gone, along with half of me, but she was absolutely clear in the words I imagined from her.

One child gone; no more allowed to follow. No more sitting like that Aussie lizard, waiting for the next car. I pulled myself a little way from her so that I could see her face, because it was all making such sense then.

“Two sets, Dafi? You in the other one?”

She nodded.

“Ma girl. I know it, like, like, like which hand to write with. I know…”

She waved a hand at herself.

“Tried to tell Mam, but she doesn’t listen. Don’t know if she can. I thought I was mad, you know?”

She suddenly grinned, and that was when my mind finally did click into seeing her behind him.

“So you’re really a girl, then? What’s made you laugh?”

That look away I recognised, that failure of new-found confidence, so I cupped her chin and gently turned her face back towards my own.

“Was stupid, Uncle Mike. Mam, she and Dad, I looked up ways to see stuff on the computer, hide it from them, and it was really good, cause”

She stopped again, as I rewound all the old jokes about getting five year olds to set the timers on video recorders, as well as some comments by Steph. I smiled as best I could for the little girl I was holding.

“Cause you found out it wasn’t just you that felt that way?”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head vigorously, all of that knowing maturity fled.

“Yes! That’s it! Not just me! Not been naughty, not mad, not on my own this way!”

I just nodded, letting her set the pace.

“I tried telling Mam, but could never get the right words, and don’t think she can… and I know they’re going to hate me! I was reading, and it says things happen when I go to the big school, happen in my body, and I just, and they’ll really hate me, won’t they?”

What a pile of shit. Time to dig deeper, Rhodes.

“I was going to be a Dad once, Dafi”

“What happened?”

“I didn’t get the chance. Something really bad happened”

“What?”

“Not today, love. I was lucky. I had friends, Enfys’ Mam and Dad. They looked after me, even though I did stupid things”

“Like what?”

“Like drinking too much beer all the time”

Her eyes widened, the child showing once again.

“Did you wee yourself?”

I shrugged.

“Can’t remember. Possibly. What I’m saying is that my friends never gave up on me, kept helping. How could a Mam and Dad not do even better, for their own child?”

She was weeping once more, and I held her gently for a few moments until the shuddering eased.

“Dafi…”

“Don’t want that name”

A boy’s name. Of course she didn’t want it.

“What can I call you, then? What would you like?”

Her voice was only just audible.

“Alys”

A couple of deep breaths, and her whisper continued.

“Been practising writing it and everything, but Welsh way, course. A-L-Y-S”

“Why that name, love?”

“Been reading some stories, so I looked on the computer, and it said the writer’s name was really Alice, not Andre, and as well there’s Alice, with the Red Queen and the Cheshire Cat, and she goes through a mirror, and I look in a mirror, and if I could do that, I’d be on the other side, and I might be turned round to the right way”

She was a kaleidoscope, flashing from infant terror to sharper insight than I could believe possible.

“Alys…”

“That’s going to be my name”

“Want me to speak to your Mam and Dad for you?”

“Would they listen to you?”

“I hope so. Won’t know less I try, will I? Want me to?”

She looked down once again, then back up at me, lines appearing at the edges of her mouth as she clamped down on more sobs, then nodded sharply, just as someone coughed behind me.

The nurse was polite, but insistent.

“Time for the consultant’s rounds. Doctor’s coming in a minute. Could I just ask you to…?”

I gave Alys a last squeeze of the hand, and set out for the café, texting Pen as I walked.

Doctor’s rounds. Am off to the café. Need a word without Nansi. We were right. She’s called Alys

Her reply was almost immediate.

Go out front entrance. Nansi already in café. Meet you outside

I did as instructed, to be joined by a rapidly-moving Pen, who was straight to the point.

“What have we got, Mike?”

I opened my arms to invite the hug, which allowed me to whisper the words to her ear.

“She’s called Alys, love”

“Shit! Sorry; don’t mean that’s shit, obviously, but we, hell”

She pulled away to arms’ length, face screwed up in worry.

“The kid’s been clear about it?”

“Very. Not like Steph, though”

“Oh? What about Steph?”

I tugged her towards a wooden bench, settling myself onto it as she followed suit.

“Ah, we’ve been spending time together, with her man as well, of course. The more I see of her, the more I see how she was as being, you know, ill-fitting? She makes so much sense now, as a person. She spoke about her younger days, and she’s like Alys, but not”

“Puzzled now, Mike”

“Ah, it’s simple, really. Steph was a mess as a kid, but never knew why. When she understood, things got messy, and we both remember that bit”

“Aye, rather too well”

“Well, Alys---”

“You seem okay with that name”

“She says it’s her name, or will be. Anyway, I gather she’s known since she could first really… since she first had a sense of identity. Pen?”

“That’s MY name. What revelation do you have now?”

“When did kids get better at using the internet than adults? She’s been reading up on her condition”

“Shit. You think it’s some sort of, dunno, like a cult thing? Grooming?”

I stared at her for a few seconds before shaking my head.

“Be honest, love: do you really believe that yourself?”

She held my gaze for a few seconds of her own before shaking her head.

“No, Mike. Not really. What the hell do we do now?”

“My thoughts? We give it a few days to let people settle. I keep hope going for Alys, and I ring Steph for advice. No--- I can’t ask Alys for permission, as that would be outing Steph, and I can’t do that without her own permission, so it’s your old vicious circle thingy”

“What then?”

“Well, it’s a little more complex. I really need to speak to Vic and Nansi before I speak to Steph, which means waiting till Alys is definitely on the mend, or even back home. I’m boing to have to…oh, arse”

I pulled my phone out, tapping in Betty’s number.

“What do you want, Rhodes? Out with the kids and the pack mule, yes you, know your place man, sorry Mike, just had to put him back into line. What’s up?”

“Got a couple of issues with some friends. Health stuff. Hospital. Going to need to stay a few more days after the weekend. Can you clear it with the boss? I can do some overtime next week”

She was silent for a few seconds, then asked the obvious question.

“Not the kids, love?”

“Sort of, Bets. I, well, all hands to the pumps”

“Mike, you are so bloody soft, and that wasn’t a complaint. Tell your friends we are only a phone call away if they need us. Got me?”

“Got you”

“One thing, love. Promise me the kid will be okay. It’s the lad, isn’t it?”

“Can’t say, Bets”

“Shit! What Shaun said… Christ, they’ll have a plate more than full, if I have it right. Hang up. I’ll sort work for you, and if necessary, the rest of us will divvy up your jobs. Off and sort them, okay, and talk when you can”

She was gone, and I was left with a silent phone. Yet another deep breath, and I smiled at Pen.

“Work’s sorted, and I’m free and at your service”

“Lots to take on, Mike”

“Can’t see another dead kid, Pen”

“Another?”

“Caro was… she was expecting when, things”

I rose, taking her hand and drawing her to her feet, seeking her strength even as her tears started.

“Come with me, love. I’ll keep Nansi busy; you go and meet Alys”

CHAPTER 30
I left the women with a suffering child and rode back to Bethesda in a partial daze, the transition from city to country only partially clearing my thoughts, until I realised I needed a much steadier head for the waiting bends.

I pulled the bike onto its centre stand on the patch of tarmac by a junction just before the woods started, and hauled out my mobile. It rang three times before being answered.

“I’m at work, Mike. This important?”

So much for speaking to Vic and Nansi first, but this way suddenly made more sense. I drew in a breath.

“Afraid it is that, woman”

A word that got easier to say each time we met.

“Right. Hang on… Tom? Got an urgent call. Going to an interview room… No idea. Be as quick as I can”

Her attention came back to me.

“Just going out the back, Mike. Hang on… Right. Door’s shut. What’s up?”

“Something I hope you can help with, or at least point me in the right direction”

“Who’s hurting, Mike? Taking some guesses here and it is either going to be job-related or, well, ME-related. Sorry to be brusque, but we’ve got a job about to start”

A ‘job’? Oh. Idiot that I was.

“I’ll be as quick as I can, then. It’s Dafi”

There was a clatter at the other end of the line before she spoke again.

“Sorry, Mike. Chairs are chained, and I sat down a bit hard. What’s happened? How badly is he… Oh. You are an idiot, Woodruff. Am I thinking along the right lines, Mike? Dafi’s not really Dafi?”

In with both feet again, Rhodes.

“You are spot on, Steph”

“What’s happened to her, Mike?”

“Breaking all sorts of confidences here, woman, but I don’t really care--- no. Rewind. I think there are more important things to worry about. Self-harm, that’s what”

“Overdose?”

“Yes. Took the stuff and went to bed, rather than take them then panic, if you get my point”

“I do. So what did she take? From what you’re saying it was nothing immediately lethal, so please tell me it wasn’t paracetamol, cause that stuff is nasty and slow”

“I believe it was antihistamines”

“Hang on. Got MIMS here”

There was the sound of shuffling paper.

“MIMS, Steph?”

“Monthly Index of Medical something or other, Mike. A drugs list. Hang on… Oh shit. That’s nasty, but not as bad as I dreading. Who knows?”

“Bit more specific would be good”

“Sorry. Bit sideways here. Who knows about her so far?”

“Me first, then Pen”

“Not Vic and Nansi?”

“Not as far as I know. That’s mostly why I’m ringing you”

“I think—hang on. Door”

More rattling of chains, and then a man’s voice, faint but clear over the phone.

“I was going to let you know we’re sorted with the punter, and just need to sort the shit shovelling roster, but the state you’re in. What on Earth, love?”

“Friend’s kid, Tom. In hospital. Bit out of the blue—sorry”

“Finish the call, wash your face, and go home to Geoff. Come back tomorrow if you can; we’ll cope. Come back IF and ONLY if you’re okay”

“Thanks, Tom”

“No worries, love. I’ll put it down as a domestic emergency. How old?”

“About ten”

“Shit. Finish your call, and I’ll make the excuses to the team. And then go home. You safe to ride?”

“I will be”

“See you tomorrow, then”

There was the sound of a door latching, and she was back with me.

“Sorry, Mike. The boss, aye?”

“Not a problem. They seem to be looking after you”

“You have no idea, Mike. That’s sort of the thing here, with the child. Girl. Her name?”

“She says she’s Alys. That’s spelled the Welsh way”

“A-L-Y-S, then. Anyway, my point is from what you said. I know full well who you met before I met Sally. That’s my shrink, and of course I met Geoff as well, and that’s when… Mike?”

“Yes, love?”

I could hear the catches in her breath as the emotion seized her.

“What it was was fear. Once I understood who I was, it was shame as well as fear, and that led to distrust. Nobody could ever accept a freak like me, and I was, Geoff showed me, Kelly, Bill, Jan… I’m rambling. I thought I was hiding, and all my neighbours already knew. I was terrified what the team would say, work team, and all they did was make some sexist jokes and tell me how stupid I’d been. Just…”

I could hear her sobs far more clearly now, so I kept my silence and waited on her strength.

“Mike?”

“Still here”

“Sorry. Just a bit close to home. Looking at a present Geoff gave me ages ago”

“Go on?”

“Locket, with a copy of a picture of my parents in it. That’s the thing, really. I did things like Dafi---Alys. Like Alys did, but my parents never got to meet me. Me as I really am, that is. Alys has a real chance there. Vic and Nansi are sound people, but Alys will be terrified they’ll drop her. What have you said to her about me?”

That was far easier ground.

“Nothing at all. It would mean outing you, and that’s your call, not mine. You think I should tell her parents?”

“Yes. Sooner the better, in my view. Right now, they have a suicidal child and no idea why. If they’re the people I think they are, this will give them a depressed child they can deliver hope to rather than one they’ll be terrified to leave on their own. Where are they?”

“The girls are with Alys, the men at home”

“Then go and talk to Vic, my friend. If you out me to the girl, people will start seeing it as grooming or some other rubbish. Look: I’m off home. You go and see Vic, and make it clear I’m happy to help any way I can. I mean I’m not HAPPY happy, if you take my point, but he can ring if he needs. I’ll warn Geoff. Off with you, love”

That word cut me as well as delivering a real shot of warmth. It wasn’t the way she used that word to her husband, or Caro had used it to me, and it was welcome acknowledgement of our friendship, but. I was still shaking from that revelation I had offered Alys, and my loss was so, so persistent in the way it could sit up and deliver another set of razor cuts to my soul.

Walk away from the bike, Rhodes. Breathe the air. Listen to the river laughing behind the edge of the woods, and then ride carefully back to the lads.

I set it once more onto the centre stand next to the bunkhouse, threading the heavy chain through back wheel and frame before shouldering the saddle bags, now containing more ale. Numb the pain before delivering the nastiness made abundant sense to me. Keith answered the door upon my ring.

“Vic’s at Dwr y Mynydd getting a takeaway for us. Update when he’s back?”

I set my lid on the telephone table by the entrance and handed him my panniers.

“Beer in there, mate. Stick it in the kitchen while I get my boots off, then we need a chat”

“Wait for Vic?”

“No. Not this time”

He took the bags from me, brow wrinkled, as I dumped boots and jacket before settling into an armchair. He appeared with bottles and glasses, as I had hoped and expected, and as he poured his drink made it clear he was waiting on my words. I poured and sipped, then smiled as best I could.

“Vic and Nansi have a real problem, Keith, but”

I held a hand up to forestall his reaction, and pulled out Steph’s words.

“Couple of major ‘buts’, in fact. Kid told me what their problem is, so I had a word with a friend. Steph Woodruff”

“Why would you… oh fucking hell, Mike! Really?”

I nodded before taking another mouthful of beer.

“Penny knows now. Steph was the obvious person to ask after Alys spoke to me”

“Alys who?”

“Alys Edwards”

“Oh. Oh shit. And what did Steph suggest?”

I wasn’t being wonderful with confidences, but I still had to try.

“What has Steph said to you about her earlier life?”

“Not much, to be honest”

“Well, the self-harm stuff is, was pretty obvious. Agreed?”

“Bloody obviously. Go on”

“Well, she never got to meet, her parents never got to meet her, and she says Alys is luckier that way. Her problem, Steph’s problem, that is, was fear. How would people react? Short answer: they went all protective. All her fear was unfounded. She did give Geoff a lot of the credit, but obviously that’s not an option for Alys. We need to be her Geoff, her work team, and that’s not all”

“What else is there?”

“She was very clear in saying that the Edwards can now have a really clear idea of what’s up, and that it’s a problem with a solution. They just need a bit of, dunno, a bit of being the folk we know”

The doorbell went again, and Keith rose to let Vic in with the food. So much for healthy eating. Keith and I closed down Vic’s questions with promises to talk as we ate (and drank), and so we found ourselves back in our seats, beers on side tables and food on lap trays. I took my time over a couple of bites of a spring roll, then looked at Vic, who was a red-eyed mess, and thanked god he hadn’t driven to the Chinese place.

“I left the girls with the clothes and stuff, and they had a shower. Nurses are looking after them all, Vic. Really well”

“How’s Dafi?”

“Better, I hope. We had a long talk about things. They looked really glad to see the books you sent”

“Yes, they were. We talked a bit about their reading”

“Did he say anything about why he did what he did? Was it something we did, or kids at school? What?”

I shook my head, spinning out the easy bit in my own dread of the heavier stuff. Another bite of food.

“Fear, Vic. They’re terrified of a couple of things, one of which is what you and Nansi might say about them”

“Frightened of me and Nans? Why would he be frightened? Of us?”

This wasn’t my job, or shouldn’t have been, but it had landed squarely in my lap, and along with it had come the hopes of a child. Verandah Buttress rather than Sundowner, I was praying. I waited till Vic had put down his glass.

“Despair, Vic. She’s called Alys, or rather that’s the name she wants”

He was speechless for a far shorter time than I had expected, muttering something harsh-sounding in Welsh before switching back to English.

“And our own son couldn’t tell us this?”

“I took some advice from Steph before I came back, Vic. Just to try and get my own head around it. Sorry and all, breaking confidences, but this is such a messy situation, and I have already lost a child of my own, and I can’t see another go”

Keith was in his own little place of shock.

“Are you saying Caro was…?”

“Yes, mate. She was. Makes me a bit determined about this. Sorry, Vic: not trying to take centre of attention here. Something Steph said, okay? Her parents never got to meet her, and she had spent all her time with them in fear of what they would say. She likes to think they’d have been proud. You’ve got a child who has issues you can solve, or at least address, she said, which is better than wondering when the next OD or wrist slash is coming”

“Fuck, Mike! You don’t pull your punches, do you?”

“Vic, well, shit. I’ve met Alys. So, by now has Penny, and I assume that she’ll be having much the same talk with Nansi, if she hasn’t already. So, punches. Here’s another one: you can get to know your child; I never had that choice. My wife died…”

So much for my solid hard-man composure. Keith passed me a square of paper towel and I blew my nose before speaking again.

“Vic: please say hello to Alys. Please, please take away her fear”

CHAPTER 31
Vic stared hard at me for a few seconds, before his gaze dropped to his plate. He pushed a few bits of chicken around with his fork before looking back up.

“Did Dafi really say he was frightened of us?”

Slowly, Rhodes.

“That’s the thing, Vic. This is going to sound odd, but logic isn’t always a help here. What Steph said was all about knowing how things were, and by that I mean a sort of paranoia. She just KNEW nobody could accept her, because that is how she saw herself until the real world sneaked up and surprised her. Alys feels the same, but she’s so much younger, it’s more of a terror. Her family’s her life”

I had noticed the twitch as I used that name, but at least he wasn’t arguing.

“Can I make a suggestion, mate? Get her home, let her see she’s safe, and, well, home, yeah? I…”

I had an odd split-screen moment, where one part of me muttered something about things getting better while my soul wanted to sob.

“I was in hospital for a while, Vic, when Caro… When I lost my wife. I had a cracked chest, and I spent a long while in dock, and when I left hospital, I had nobody to go back to, because she was gone. Yes, Keith, I know, and I will always love you and Pen for being there, but that was how it was. Alys will want to be home---no, start that one again. She will want to know there’s a home to come back to. I’m not pushing for you to go any particular way, just let her see she has her family with her, whatever”

I took another swig of beer, then grimaced.

“Shit, mate, you know I AM pushing one way. Get her home, make her safe”

Vic’s voice was soft.

“You seem to be comfortable with the ‘she’ stuff, Mike”

The more natural it becomes. I’ve met Alys; I think you should, you and Nansi. If Penny’s the woman I know her to be, Nansi will have met Alys by now. They should all be home by tomorrow or the day after, from what I’ve read about the drugs. Fresh start?”

Vic was nodding at last, and muttering to himself in Welsh, when the phone rang. Keith answered, in Welsh, and then, clearly for my benefit, switched to English.

“Yeah, Pen. Mike’s let us know. Bit wobbly here. I’ll put him on”

He passed the phone to Vic.

“Nansi for you, mate”

I was lost for several minutes as Vic went sibilant-rich in his own language, but I could pick out the occasional word, one of which was ‘Alys’ and another ‘adre’.

‘Home’.

He finished the call and passed back the phone, looking at each of us in turn.

“She says… Nansi says they are releasing our child tomorrow. They’ll all be home, and Dafi…”

He shook his head, pain in his eyes.

“Nansi says… Alys… Alys has told her a lot of things about what we haven’t seen, and we have come to an agreement. I need to take some advice, but my child is NOT going back to that school if I can help it. We need to see what is allowed in what the Yanks call home-schooling”

I held a hand up, as if I were in school, and Keith snorted.

“Shut it, Hiatt. Remember Auds? Her and her old man are in a home-school society. I know it’s in England, but laws are mostly the same. Want us to tap them up for you, Vic? Anonymised style?”

He nodded, then turned to Keith.

“When we’ve finished these cans, could I be cheeky and have a look at your malts?”

The morning ambushed me later than it normally did, because my head was rather thick after a night of the alcohol fighting the monosodium glutamate in the takeaway, and I headed for the kitchen with a quiet reminder to myself to leave the bike unused for the rest of the day. Keith was already filling the teapot, Vic snoring on the sofa under a spare duvet. As he set the cosy over the pot, Keith handed me a sheet of paper.

“List some priorities, mate. Brain storm style. Me and Vic’ll add our own. You still got Audrey’s number?”

I nodded, pulling out my phone and writing her number down on the sheet after a dig into my ‘contacts’. Keith read it, then handed back the paper.

“Probably best from you, Mike, what with seeing her more recently”

I couldn’t argue, so after I had written a few of the more obvious points onto his brainstorm planner, I clicked the green button.

“Hello, stranger! What do we owe this honour to?”

“Hi, Auds. Brain picking, I’m afraid”

“Fried or boiled, or just raw?”

“Oh, grow up! And thanks for looking after, you know”

Her voice softened.

“Yes, we do know, love. Saw you’d been down a couple of times. You should have stopped by ours”

“Ah, sorry, but, it’s that place, yeah?”

“Oh, I get that, love. Now, not going to do the how’s-it-all-in-flat-cap-land bit, cause you sound like a man on a mission. How can we help?”

“Well, I’m not in Yorkshire at the moment, Auds, but Snowdonia”

“You with Penny and Keith? How they doing?”

“Just Keith at the moment, but really well, and so’s their little girl”

“She climbing yet?”

“I believe so. Tell you what…”

I raised my eyebrows, and Keith gave a sharp nod.

“Get the brain-picking out of the way first, then I’ll pass you over to him. That do?”

“Get to the point, then”

“Need to know about home schooling. Friend’s kid”

“Right… you still got the same e-mail addy?”

“Yup”

“Brief overview of what you need, and I’ll send you the bumf by mail”

“Friend’s kid having some issues in junior school, needs a tide over before they start secondary school. Just coming up to ten”

“Right. Got that to hand. And yes, I am hearing a shitload of stuff you won’t or can’t tell me”

“Sorry, love”

“Don’t be. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t care, or broke confidence. Now, give me Keithy boy. Don’t care if he’s naked”

“Thanks, love. Keith?”

I left him with my mobile as I poured three mugs, taking two into the living room just as the house phone rang. I set the mugs down next to a woken Vic and picked up the handset.

“Hiatt’s place”

“Hi, Mike. We’ll be setting off from the hospital at about twelve, after the consultant’s rounds, as long as he doesn’t change his mind. How’s Vic?”

“Next to me, just waking, and no, not like that, as you well know. Starting a brainstorm. How are the others?”

She paused, and I could almost hear her mind selecting the next words.

“The other girls are fine, love, though Alys is a bit apprehensive, and no, bugger it. She was what they call ‘open and honest’ with the local shrink, so that cat is now without a bag”

Another and much longer pause.

“The waiting lists for the kids’ specialist places, fuck me, Mike! Do they want these kids dead, or what? Sorry, and yes, I am on my own. Shrink has given Nansi a list of clinics and some private practice ones. Nans is talking about going private, but fist she gets pulled out of that school”

“Yes. Vic was talking about that last night. That’s what the brainstorm is. Hang on”

I turned to Vic.

“Spoke to a friend earlier, mate. She and her man are part of a home schooling group, and she’s sending me details. Mike’s having a gossip with her now”

Pen sounded amused.

“That’ll be Audrey, then”

“Yup. I did avoid name, pack drill, et cetera”

“I’d expect no less. Now, we’re back at one, and Alys has made a request. Could you boys prepare a picnic? We have a request from our new friend, and they have somewhere special they have in mind. Weather’s set fair today, so some rugs, flasks and that. If you make up the sarnies, we’ll stop off at the shop for some more interesting nibbles”

She finished the call, and I turned to Vic, who was swigging his tea in the manner of the utterly dehydrated morning after that famous night before.

“We’re on picnic preparation duties, Vic”

“Why a picnic?”

I had a very good idea, but still gave him a smile.

“I suspect someone wants to be somewhere pleasant as a reminder. Somewhere to make them feel better about living”

I had expected the tears, so let him work through them until he was settled once again.

“Girls will have to drive us all, because I suspect our blood levels are a bit low in our alcohol stream. Want a refill? Keith’s got breakfast going, or at least it smells like it. Hang on…”

I put my head round the kitchen doorway.

“Picnic for later, mate, so not a pig-out just now, okay? We need to make some sandwiches and fill flasks. More tea there?”

“Just made a fresh pot. Vic?”

I waggled my hand, only halfway to a thumbs-up, and grimaced. Keith nodded, then lowered his voice.

“Picnic?”

“Girls’ request. They get discharged around one o’clock”

“Ah. This be a sort of, you know, introduction session?”

I felt my eyes prickle, but fought the tears back.

“I bloody well hope so, mate. I really do”

“Any idea where we’re going?”

“God knows, mate. Safety net, us”

He nodded.

“Understood. Take his tea in; we’ll eat in here”

The next couple of hours were filled with unimportant stuff, largely steered by Keith, and I couldn’t argue with his actions because I had almost run out of emotional steam. Eventually, there was the sound of a key in the front door, and Penny was with us. She cast a quick look at Vic before heading for the kitchen with a number of carrier bags. Enfys was next, and to my surprise she ran straight to her father for a hug.

Nansi was next, hand in hand with her child, who looked terrified. Her gaze was on her father, until Vic simply opened his arms, and I walked into the back garden for a few minutes.

When I returned, bags were piled on the settee and people were clearly eager to get on their way. I found my trainers, grabbed my fleece jacket just in case, and followed the rest out to the cars.

To absolutely no surprise on my part, we headed uphill, pulling into the Idwal car park. As we gathered on the tarmac, I dropped a hand onto her shoulders, whispering “It’s going to be fine, Alys”

She simply squeezed my hand, and as a group we headed downhill to the little slate stile on the north side of the road. We didn’t drop down to the hidden bridge, but assembled on the polished platform opposite, where rugs were spread and teas poured.

Enfys was cuddling her friend, who smiled up at her in the most heartbreakingly simple of ways, before turning to her father.

“You know who I am, Dad?”

CHAPTER 32
Vic nodded, looking away as a coach ground up the hill towards Capel Curig, then spread an arm wide.

“Let go of Enfys and come here, love”

It was getting easier to call her to Alys, or my subconscious was succumbing to the beating my waking mind was delivering, so it was indeed Alys that crawled across to her father’s embrace. He murmured something in Welsh to her, and she almost grinned at me.

“Dad says you can’t talk properly, so we have to use the other language”

Vic held a finger to her lips (once again, I was working hard on those pronouns).

“Not just that, love. Uncle Mike’s been doing a lot for us this morning. Now, will you be happy back in school?”

She started to shake, and he shushed and soothed her for a few seconds.

“Not talking about that one, love. We’ve all been talking about other things, other ways, and we have better ideas. Your two uncles here, and Aunty Pen, they have a friend who knows about these things”

“Pa things---what things, Dad?”

“What they call home schooling. Just for a while”

She looked up at him, eyes screwing up, and said something in Welsh, her voice nearly breaking. Vic cuddled her close, wiping away a tear.

“Uncle Mike can’t understand, love”

“This isn’t… I’m not… Dad, I’m me! Not going to stop that”

He cupped her chin, lifting her eyes to his.

“Fy nghariad fychan, we understand. Yes, I meant it that way. Mam and me, we might not understand it all, but we can learn, so it will be home school for all of us, ah?”

“Fychan?”

“Ie, fychan”

‘Little one’, with a soft mutation to give it a sense of the feminine. Alys was crying, as Vic spoke to her, and for the benefit of the rest of us.

“My child hurts, and that I, we, will not, cannot allow that. What we are thinking, what your uncles and aunty are helping us with, is find a way forward. You’ve told us who you are, so now we’d like to see who that is. I did a lot of thinking last night, and if this works, this school plan, I can work from home a lot more. Would you be okay with your Dad hanging around the house with you?”

She was starting to cry again, as Nansi reached out to her with her own offer.

“I did some talking with the doctors, Alys”

The child gave a convulsive jerk, but buried her head even further into her father’s chest, as Nansi continued.

“We have savings, Dad and me. Some of that is for your university days, but those are a long way away. We have some names of other doctors we can talk to, people who can do the official thing. What we are thinking is that you can go back to school when you are eleven”

“Mam?”

“Yes, love?”

“Who goes back to school?”

“Whoever you and the doctors say you are”

Enfys piped up, asking if she would still be able to see her friend, and that question reminded me exactly how old the two kids were. Was it simply her distress that had aged Alys, or was it more than that? Either way, Nansi simply smiled and nodded. Vic was smiling as well.

“How could we not let our girl’s best friend come by and see her? Now, who wants a chocolate muffin?”

That started to break the spell, and as chocolate met lips there was a loud croak, and all three of the Edwards looked up, before Vic and Alys started a heated Welsh discussion containing the words ‘bran’ and ‘cigfran’, so I guessed they were arguing over whether the large black bird passing overhead was a crow or a raven, and as I knew that argument intimately, probably getting pedantic about a raven actually being a type of crow, and so on at length. I’d heard the same discussion many times, most recently between Steph and her man. Before that it had been between me and my wife. Not now, Rhodes. Sun’s out, the raven’s ganged up with two others to attack a buzzard, Keith and Pen are bouldering on the outcrop above our slab, and two children are pointing at the old bridge as Vic laughs.

“Cer ymlaen!”

The three of them scrambled down to the arch under the road and onto the old packhorse bridge of jammed stones, Alys holding a finger to her lips as she pointed to something in the water and held still, until a plump brown bird with a white breast flew upstream to the lake’s outflow. A dipper—wonderful! I turned to Nansi, noticing that her smile seemed to have gone with her child.

“You okay, Nansi?”

She shook her head slightly, and then almost whispered.

“Not sure, Mike. This is a lot to try and wrap my head around, and it’s other stuff”

She waved at the expeditionary group as they waved back.

“Would be so easy to say she’s acting girly now, but she isn’t, not any more than she was before. She’s, and yes, got to keep using that word, she’s acting the same way she always has. It’s just I can see it now, and I’ve been thinking about all the times I can remember, I can understand now, how she was trying to tell me, and I missed them all, until we very nearly missed a child, and I am doing my best not to cry, so please tell me something, find something, funny or silly, whatever. Something else to think about”

“Um… I was in Scotland one day, up at the end of the Glen Nevis road. Do you know it?”

“Went there with Vic before we were married. I was expecting a randy weekend away, and he’s doing a photo commission. Typical!”

She was beginning to smile, though, so I pressed on.

“I was having a cuppa from the tea van that used to park there, old John McDonald, and this car pulls up, family of Glaswegians from their accents, and one of them asks us, me and John, where Ben Nevis is, so John nods to me to answer. I point up the waterslide to sort of say ’you’re standing next to it’, and then the woman asks me if it’s true it’s the highest mountain in Scotland”

“Serious mountaineers, then?”

“Ah, just a family out in a nice place. I sent them along the path to the Steall, as it’s a pretty safe route. It was the third question that got me”

“Fourth? What happened to third?”

“Oh, that was which was the second highest, so of course I said it was Ben McDui. The fourth question was to tell them which hill was Ben McDui”

Cruelly, I waited till she had a mouthful of tea before adding, “Which is in the Cairngorms”

She sprayed satisfactorily before announcing my status as a child of unmarried parents, and once her laughter had settled, she simply smiled and thanked me before musing once more.

“Going to be a slog, Mike”

“Unless that Australia job comes up surprisingly fast, I’m not going anywhere, not anywhere too far away”

She looked hard at me.

“I don’t mean this in a nasty way, but it hurts that she spoke to you first. I’m glad she did, or glad that she spoke to someone who could listen, I mean. So close to… No. Not happening. One door opens, another gets bloody nailed shut. I just wonder what little Enfys is thinking”

“They’re adaptable at that age, Nansi, surprisingly so. As for being able to listen, well, I’ve had the advantage of a lot of Steph over the last few months. The more I see of her and her husband, the easier it gets to understand. That first time I met her, in the pub, shit! Anyway, who Alys first spoke to isn’t the thing, it’s that she has done, properly, so we can work on making the future better rather than worrying over the past”

She was still staring, and I knew why, so I just shrugged.

“Yeah, I know, and I will never stop missing her, but I’m finding other things to care about. Displacement activity, they call it”

“Like caring about that little one down there?”

“Yes, and before that it was Penny and Keith. All of them, us two, we’re still here, so I’m doing that priority thing, triage. Keeps me going”

Stops me doing bloody stupid things like soloing Tennis Shoe, my inner voice added.

“Nansi?”

“Yes?”

“What’s your next step?”

“I don’t know. Not going on a shopping spree for clothes, anyway. Don’t think my child is going to wat to spend a lot of time outside once things get moving. Anyway, Pen’s offered me some of Enfys’ old things for Alys. I suspect that she’s more looking for recognition than dressing-up”

I found myself laughing.

“Sorry, something Steph said. I mean, on the hill, she’s all practical kit, proper climbing trousers or leggings, and when she’s anywhere else, it’s a skirt or a dress. She said she likes to wear them because ‘after so many shitty years I can’. Made a lot of sense, especially when she pointed out the comfort, Offered me one of hers to wear”

It was Nansi’s turn to laugh.

“You wouldn’t fit into one of hers!”

“Yup, and there are no bloody pockets, so what’s a man to do?”

I grabbed another sandwich as the trio made their way back from their bridges, Enfys pointing up at her parents and saying something that probably translated as something like “What about me?”

Alys lay back on the rug, eyes closed to the sun as her parents poured cold drinks in an attempt to tempt the errant crag child back to our picnic site. The sunshine seemed to be doing a fine job of delivering us from the twin darknesses, and we made the most of it, especially after Keith had gone over to the car park and returned with three pairs of rock shoes and enough gear to set up a top rope. Penny spotted my smirk and shrugged.

“Living in a place like this, how could we not keep the basics to hand? Fancy some stuff, despite your trainers?”

“Why not?”

We spent a couple of hours messing about, even Alys trying some simpler stuff while Enfys gabbled away at her, showing an amazing sense of balance for such a youngster. Eventually, their energy ran down, and we packed up for the run back down to Bethesda and Vic and Nansi’s offer of a meal at theirs, or at least a sit down with a mass order from the chippy.
Both children rode with the Hiatts while Nansi drove Vic and myself to the chippy. She was pensive.

“Given the house keys to Pen, Mike. Taking a bit of a chance”

“What? On Penny?”

“Don’t be silly, Mister Rhodes. On our child. Now, got that order ready?”

We gathered chips, pies, fish, battered sausages, mushy peas and drove back to their place, alcohol left in the supermarket for that night at least, and Vic rang his own door bell. It was answered by Pen, who nodded slightly at some unseen query from Vic.

“Tea’s brewing, folks”

We settled ourselves around the living room, children nowhere to be seen but two place settings on the dining table ready for them. Nansi set out their plates, having left the paper parcel wrapped on top of each and called “Kids!” up the stairs. There was a thunder of little feet, and the two smallest of our crew were at the door. Each was in a dress, and Alys was grinning directly at me. I grinned back.

“That suits you, Alys”

Her grin nearly split her head in two.

“That’s my name!”

CHAPTER 33
I spent another couple of days in Bethesda, kipping in the bunkhouse, which wasn’t a problem, especially when Keith made sure I got the ‘private’ room, which would give some respite from the usual night music of the nasally impaired. Evening meals were taken in both houses as a sort of extended family, and each time we ate, Alys was in what was clearly ‘her’ dress. The morning after that first appearance dressed that way, Keith collared me after breakfast.

“Got another regular due this afternoon. Don’t know if Alys would be up to coming out, and he’s likely to want to say hello to both kids. Would you be able to be a bit devious? Just in case?”

“In what way, mate?”

“Think of somewhere away from here you fancy going? With company?”

“This regular. They a climber?”

“Sort of utilitarian one. One of Vic’s colleagues, in a way: photographer. Arty sod, all monochrome and drama, and they are a nutter”

“In what way?”

“Um, confined spaces and oxygen tanks, in the dark”

“Not a bloody cave diver?”

“Er, yeah”

“No. Just no. Not doing that”

“Not asking you to. There’s a difference between asking a mate for a favour and stitching him up. No, just think of a walk that’ll take him away from here, so we can work out what to do with him about Alys”

“Right… Film Set? Then Pete’s Eats if you need more time?”

Keith nodded.

“Well, you won’t need the car, anyway”

“He drive?”

“Had an R80 last time he was here”

“That must be an absolute sod to ride round here”

“Neil’s a big lad. Seems to cope, anyway. He’s due about five, or at least that’s when we normally see him. You okay with that? And I’ll buy you a pint tonight”

I got his point, realising that the Edwards wouldn’t be out that evening, so I nodded my agreement, and set off for Clogwyn y Tarw for some soloing of the more sensible kind, protected by a top rope and a Shunt. No more Tennis Shoe-style silliness with a little girl depending on me.

It was a good day in the end, as there were only a couple of rain showers, and I spent them huddled behind the Monolith, stuffing my face with the sandwiches and pastries I had picked up on the way there. I soloed Slab Climb, then fixed the doubled rope so that I could try some harder stuff without the risk of cratering. Yob Route at HVS went well, as did Llyn at VS, but when I gave Insidious Slit a go, I just kept falling off at the peg.

Well, it is E4 and 6a, and there were damp patches, so that was my excuse. I did manage Diadem and Sweet Sorrow, both HVS, but fell off the crux on the latter twice, the second time leaving me roaring with laughter, followed by a much quieter mood as I realised how much of the blackness Alys had pushed into my past. I was comfortably reflective as I set the bike on its stand at the bunkhouse, next to the expected fat old BMW 800 twin. As I dumped my throwovers in my ‘private room’, a solid-looking man waved at me.

“You Mike? Tea’s in the pot”

“Neil? On that porker out the front?”

He took my snipe at his bike with a grin and a shrug.

“I have made one change to the bike, at least”

“Oh?”

“Sorted the side stand out. Bloody stupid way to drop a bike, that”

I should explain that a BMW R80 is a flat twin 800 cc bike, where a cylinder pokes out horizontally each side, and the things are as cliché German as possible, but for some reason said Germans had decided on a secret way of wrecking bikes, perhaps in order to generate more income in repairs. Pull up on a bike, flip the side stand down, lean it over and dismount. Not quite in the right place? Tip the bike up and walk it forward, side stand still down.

BMW spring-loaded the bloody thing, so parking was a matter of dismounting while holding the bike upright, THEN hooking the stand down while still holding the bike upright, obviously while standing on one leg. Bloody stupid idea. The logic was to stop one riding off with the stand down. Kawasaki had addressed that by interlinking the stand to the ignition (stand down, no spark), while Honda had simply stuck a finger of bendy rubber to the stand’s end, so it would be flicked up at the first left-hander.

“You got rid of the spring?”

“Adapted a Honda stand. Couldn’t be bothered faffing around like Kwak, and this does the job”

I grinned at him, liking his style.

“You sound remarkably sane for a cave diver”

“Oh bugger off. Hiatt been setting me up?”

“I cannot tell a lie yes. Mike Rhodes”

I offered him my hand, and he shook it with a firm grip.

“Neil Strachan. Keithy boy says we’re at the pub tonight, and you have somewhere for tomorrow?”

“Yup. Film Set Quarry, quite surreal. Made Clash of the Titans there. Also where some of the first slate routes were put up. Keith said you were into black and white snaps, and I can do some top rope stuff”

“I need to hold the rope?”

“Nope. Got a shunt. Self-arrest thing clips to my harness, auto-locks if I peel”

“So your ears won’t be alight, then”

“You what?”

He began to sing a familiar song, rather badly.

“My ears are alight! My ears are alight! You won’t be a Desmond, then. A Decker”

I groaned. Thanks, Keith.

“I’m going to get a shower, then doss for a bit before the pub. You?”

He handed me a mug.

“Drink my own tea, then log some pics. This place get good light, tomorrow?”

“Enough for me to see. Not a snapper, me”

He picked up his own mug, heading for the dining table, before looking over his shoulder again.

“You know the kids? Enfys and Dafi?”

“Since birth, or maybe before, cause I’ve known the Hiatts a long time”

“They okay? Just, I’d have expected them to be here fighting over who gets to carry my gloves”

I burst out laughing at that.

“You too? Enfys was always after mine, even when they were dripping wet. Anyway, both are fine. Sure you’ll all catch up over the next few days”

He smiled, a little quirkily.

“Yeah, suppose so. It’s just, well, got used to teasing them. Catch you after your shower. Got a yen for their steak and ale and ale and ale pie tonight. I mean, I don’t want all of tonight’s ale to be in the pie; just sort of meet it afterwards”

I walked off chuckling, and understanding why he got on so well with my old friends. The next day could turn out to be more delight than duty.

The pub was simply more of the same, because Keith and Penny both rose to the challenge, the pun rate going into the red, along with even worse jokes, including a very rude one about Tarzan and a baby elephant, and the drink, along with the hint of serenity I had discovered on the rock, made my sleep as peaceful as it had ever been.

We had sunlight that morning, and after a sly comment to Neil that I would take it slowly for the sake of his two-wheeled tank’s cylinder heads, I took us over Mynydd Llandygai towards Llanberis, parking up at the end of the lane near the caravan park before locking everything up and setting out for the surreal holes in the ground that had drawn so many film makers in search of somewhere that would look other-worldly enough for their vision. Neil disappeared with no less than three cameras slung or bagged, but only after he had inspected my self-belay system.

“Mike, if I come back here and find you dangling in mid-air, I want to have something I can do other than steal all your kit”

Once again, I saw why my friends liked him. And it only rained four times, which seemed to please Neil. I asked him as we took a break for a cuppa from his flask.

“It changes the light, and the slate gets all sorts of colours when it gets wet”

“I thought you were all monochrome?”

He grinned and pointed at one side of his camera pack.

“Got the colour one in there”

“I thought digital was all the same? Full colour and that?”

“Film for me, mate. As trad as my bike”

“Oh dear. Bet you’ve got a dark room full of wet trays”

He nodded, trying to hide a cheeky grin, then started to chuckle.

“Truer than you meant it, Mike. Sums me up. Small, dark, wet places full of odd smells, my idea of heaven. Now, we all at the pub tonight?”

I shrugged, pulling out my mobile.

“Keith?”

“How’s it going, mate?”

“Got him taking colour snaps, so there’s hope. Wants to know what the plan is for tonight”

“He asked about the kids?”

I kept my answers as safe as I could.

“Indeed”

“They both want to see him”

“Okay”

“Was that a ‘yes that would be okay’ or just noise? If you think it would be safe for her, just say that you’ll pick up the booze on the way home”

“You cheeky sod!”

“Economical, me. Two birds, one stone. Seriously, Mike, we’ve got enough in. If you get a top-up, it looks normal, and it’s a safe answer to my question. do you think he’ll be safe?”

“Can I call you back, and confirm?”

“Really? Or are you going to try and pump him?”

“Yes, that. Call you back in a few”

I pushed the red button, and turned back to Neil.

“Cheeky sod wants us to buy the beer on the way back”

“No problem, surely?”

“Not really; I just wanted to make sure you’ve got room in your hardcases. Oh, and make him sweat a bit. Got more tea?”

He poured, and I dug into my thoughts for an opening. Maybe…

“Got a real shock a while ago, Neil”

“You tend to get one when you fall off, mate”

“No, seriously. I used to see someone a lot up here, then they vanished for a while. When I saw them again, they were a bit different. Bit changed”

His eyes narrowed a little, then his mouth twisted.

“Shit, Mike. What the fuck is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“The only person I can think of who fits that description is Steph Woodruff. Am I right?”

Not so clever, Rhodes.

“Guilty”

“Well, what the fuck might your problem be with her? That she’s finally bloody happy?”

What on Earth?

“Sorry, Neil, but no problem at all. She’s a mate. Her and Geoff. They stay at mine when they climb in the Peak. Didn’t mean it the way you heard it”

He shook his head, and I realised his eyes were a little damp.

“Sorry, Mike. Old ghosts. Lost… Lost a good friend, years ago. Couldn’t cope with the shit. I…”

He looked up at the gathering clouds.

“Got room in the house now for a dark room. Leave it at that, and not a word to our friends, okay? Please? And how on Earth did we end up doing True bloody Confessions… oh fuck. Tell me it’s true, or not true, or whatever, but please tell me”

I took some long breaths, watching how his hands were clenched around his cup, the surface of the tea in concentric rings from his trembling.

“Neil, I think, if… I’m going to give you some background, for me. I was married. My wife died. It was an accident. After… after I was sober again, I found a test kit. I’ve been a wreck, since, well. Stuff going on now, well, last few days I’ve managed to find some peace at last. Taken a while. Haven’t spoken to many folk about that, but, well, here we are”

He looked down at his tea, then dumped it onto the ground.

“Cold. Me, well, pretty obvious, really. No way Maddy and me could have kids, not of our own, could we? That should be enough of a confession for both of us, and I am really sorry about your loss. Old wounds, yeah? Like with scurvy. The wounds open up again if you don’t get the right stuff. I think I’ve… Shit. Just ring Keith, give him his answer, and then we’ll go and pick up the booze. That work?”

I nodded, picking up my phone, and giving Keith his answer. I packed my rope and gear away, Neil his cameras, and we simply stood looking at each other for a few seconds before we hugged, his voice gentle in my ear.

“It gets better, mate, or at least easier”

My reply was just as soft.

“I know that now, my friend”

We managed to fit four four-packs of ale into our bike luggage, picking it up in Bethesda, and after we had changed into jeans and fleece jackets, we shouldered a rucksack each before we set off to the Edwards’ place. Just before we knocked on the door, Neil looked me hard in the face.

“Dafi or Enfys? My money’s on Dafi”

“Her…”

My breath caught for a second.

“Her name’s Alys”

“Thanks”

He knocked, Nansi answered, and I nodded in response to her raised eyebrow. She smiled.

“Come on through, boys, and let’s get the ale poured”

Into the living room, and Neil was immediately tackled by Enfys, who was prattling away as another small figure held back. Neil transferred Enfys to one side, hugging her with his right arm while stretching out his left.

“No hug for me, Alys?”

CHAPTER 34
She simply stared at him for a few seconds, then tears started to flow, no fuss or noise as she wept. Neil kept his arm out to her, smiling in as gentle a way as I could ever imagine possible.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?”

She nodded slowly, then took a couple of steps forward until she could wrap herself around him, which she did as a spasm rather than a simple embrace. Neil rested his chin on top of her head, almost whispering as he spoke.

“Uncle Mike here gave me a little word about what’s been happening, and there are no problems for either of us, so shall we get settled and a glass in my hand so the evening gets improving. That do you?”

She nodded, and he squeezed her once again.

“Now, beer and other treats are in my two hard cases by the stairs. Need transferring to the kitchen and some pouring to be done. Here’s the key”

They released each other, Enfys grabbing her friend and pulling her into the hall. Neil looked around at the rest of us, eyebrows raised.

“Well? Mike and I had a chat, and found rather a lot of common ground. I’ll have the armchair for now, I think, The OP will do me for a first drink, I believe. Make it so, Hiatt”

As he settled into the chair, Nansi stepped up to hug him and kiss his cheek before turning to us and announcing that the meal was a joint production of Little Plum and The Three Bears. It took a little time to click on the reference, as two children relayed beer and the promised treats into the kitchen.

“Pen?”

“Mike?”

“I’d have guessed porridge without the ‘Little’. Mountains and links?”

“Exactly, though probably not so much of the mountains”

She was referring to a couple of strips in the Beano, or maybe the Dandy, where the celebratory feast of choice was almost always, ‘bangers and mash’: a conical heap of mashed potato with multiple sausages pushed into said pile. It was eaten by every character, whether a slightly racist ‘Red Indian’ or a family of anthropomorphic ursines, all except Desperate Dan. He was a cowboy. Who lived in Scotland. His usual meal was a cow pie, which was exactly what it said on the (pie) tin, being a pie containing a cow.

I realised the stress was catching up at last, so confined my reply to “Comfort food”. Pen’s smile quirked slightly.

“More like ‘nursery food’, love, at least in this case. Here’s your beer coming. You didn’t specify, so it’s pot luck, I’m afraid. Or not: see what you think”

As the evening proceeded through the meal and the sweet treats Neil and I had provided, I was watching Alys closely, and it was a while before I worked out what was different about her apart from the dress she was wearing, and the answer was a simple one.

Nothing at all important had altered in her speech, her mannerisms or, indeed, anything I could spot. Shaun had been far more accurate in his assessment than I had realised, for the only change in manner wasn’t a change, but a reversion, from the moodiness of the last year or so back to the happy laughter I had always heard from her years before.

That thought of happy kids, of course, brought a surge of painful memories, but I slapped them down hard with a reminder of who exactly was just out of hospital.

“Mike?”

I realised I had missed some of the conversation, so gave an all-purpose grunt as a response, and Neil was the one to pull me back to the room.

“Girls, younger ones, have got a request for tomorrow, Mike”

“Which is?”

“Group trip to Rhosneigr”

So soon? I looked across to Nansi, who started to over-explain everything, right up to the point where Penny shushed her.

“It’s got a long, long beach, it’s got chip shops, it’s got birds, it’s got jet planes taking off, and it’s far enough away from here for Alys to be safe. Shorts rather than dress, for the beach, but she’s not hiding indoors her whole life. That trip up to the bridge, that was a rush job. This will be a full day”

I looked over to our newer girl, and she was nodding.

“Uncle Mike… Dad says, like nofio, swimming. In at the deep end, but someone with me”

It made sense. I looked over to Keith and he shrugged.

“Two cars will cope. You up for this, Neil?”

“Don’t know the place, mate”

“Ah, loooooooong sandy beach, rock outcrops in the sea, and we could spin by the old royal palace at Aberffraw. Beach is next to the aerodrome the Red Arrows are based at. Lots of photo ops, including a burial mound, barrow, whatever”

He nodded.

“Sounds fine by me. They got ice cream there?”

Keith grinned.

“They have pubs, mate”

Neil sighed with obvious contentment.

“I suppose, if I really must, I will be able to manage…”

My first day back at work led to an insistent Betty dragging me off to a private room for what she called ‘the full SP’, but she did it by way of our little work kitchen so that we each had a fresh brew to hand. Once we had closed the door, ‘busy’ sign in place, she settled herself across the table from me, and simply said “And?”

I did the usual displacement/hesitation thing with my drink, before simply jumping into that deep end Alys had mentioned.

“She’s called Alys, and she bloody well hurts, and has been hurting for a very long time, and I am doing my best to help. That’s it, really”

“And her family? They on the cool side or the shitty one?”

“Bets, be honest. You’ve met them; what do you think? Really?”

“Yeah, suppose…”

“Keep supposing. Her Dad took a little bit of thinking time, and to be honest so did her Mum, but in the end, well, what a friend said. They get to meet their daughter, she lives to meet them”

“Hell, Mike: bit blunt today, or what?”

“Yes I am. Sorry, but seeing a kid in a hospital bed hurts, and from what I’ve heard about how she was treated at school, I understand why she’s not going back”

“Home schooling stuff?”

“Yes, exactly that. Me and the Hiatts, we have some friends who do all that sort of thing, so I’ve tapped them up for the ins and outs and advice”

“And senior school? What then?”

I rubbed my eyes, suddenly tired, as the strain of the last few days caught up and then overtook my reserves of strength.

“Got just short of two years before that, Bets. Get her settled, comfortable in being herself in the open…”

I found myself laughing.

“Bets, a friend of mine went down that route years and years ago. Told me she used to sneak out late at night, not exactly conforming to conventions of masculine sartorial elegance”

“You what?”

“Her words, not mine. Just taking the chance to dress more girly. Then she goes off camping in a dress. Alys likes using that image, jumping into the deep end. We did that just before I rode back here”

“Where did you go?”

“Far side of Anglesey. Lovely beach, rock outcrops in the sea, ice creams and chip shops”

“Pubs too?”

“I wasn’t driving that day, so yeah”

“Child in a skirt?”

“Nope. Pink shorts and a unicorn T-shirt, that’s all”

“Not much”

“Yeah, but it was the name, Bets. People see what they expect, and at that age, a child called Alys, what else could they see other than two little girls? Shaun made that mistake---no. Rewind. Not a mistake, was it? Anyway, Vic and Nansi found a kite from somewhere, and Neil— you’ve not met him; sound bloke--- Neil had several cameras, and so did Vic, so most of us had a distraction to hand, and two little girls running screaming up a beach trying to get their kite to fly is as bloody normal as a normal thing”

I found myself laughing once more.

“Sorry, Bets, just tickled at using the words ‘normal’ and ‘Neil’ in the same sentence”

“How’s he not normal?”

“Well, you know what I do for fun?”

“Yeah, bloody daft things on cliffs. You can get hurt that way”

“Yup, but if I do, I can get put on a stretcher or picked up by a helicopter. Not so for Neil”

“Why?”

“I go up, he goes down”

“Bugger caving for a game of soldiers”

“Indeed. Especially under the water”

Her mouth fell open, until she managed to get out pretty much the same words I had used myself.

“No. Just no, all right? Anyway, two questions for you”

“Go ahead”

“Is the little lass going to be okay?”

I took my time weighing my answer, but in the end it was the obvious one.

“In truth, well, yes. Vic and Nansi really love their child, and they seem to have come down on that side of things, sympathy and love rather than resentment at some perception of betrayal by her. Not my thoughts, those, but what Alys was dreading. It’ll obviously take a long while for things to settle down, a reintroduction of people that thought they already knew each other”

“Putting a lot of thought into this, Mr Rhodes”

“Hard not to, Bets, with something this big. Like becoming… Like becoming a parent for the first time”

She winced slightly.

“I’ll give you that one, love. Anyway, the second question. Kul’s been working up a storm while upside down, so the big moment is heading our way”

“When? I trust you are talking about the Aussie job?”

“I am that. You are number two in the queue, behind me, and, well, we discussed that ages ago. I’m still pretty sure of the answer, so it’s now down to you. They are looking at a lead of around eight months from now, so plenty of time to get your ducks in a row”

She reached across the table and took my hands in hers, giving them a little squeeze.

“Plenty of time to get to know that little girl as well, love”

CHAPTER 35
It was a twisty road getting to meet the real Alys, for while she had known herself as long as she had been self-aware, the rest of us had to dismantle almost everything we had known or assumed we knew about her, and her fear of rejection kept its teeth in her for so very long a time. It was hard work indeed, but that metaphor of bends on a road became my mantra.

Roads without bends are mind-numbingly boring. Caroline and I had tried out some of the early helmet-to-helmet intercoms for a while, until becoming too irritated by the cable connecting us and returning to our old ways of coping with the long motorway miles by solitary mind games, singing loudly in the tiny auditorium of our helmets, or just giving the occasional pat or squeeze of affection. Twisty roads were different, for they can be what biking is all about. I did my best to keep my discovery of Alys in the ‘twisty open road’ rather than ‘tight blind bends on a shit surface’ category, mostly by a shedload of reading as well as frequent chats with both Steph and Neil.

They were so different in their approach. While Steph was absolutely and pragmatically firm on her refusal to ‘come out’ to Alys, she was completely open with her advice, based on what was clearly a pretty unpleasant childhood. Neil, on the other hand, was far more reticent, although he would drop a pearl every now and again. I gathered that he was spending a lot of his time in the bunkhouse, and wondered my way through a load of cod psych analysis about atoning for ‘Maddy’ before recognising what utter crap I was thinking.

Recognise a decent bloke, one who cares, for the simple reason of caring, for fuck’s sake, Rhodes.

Alys filled out in my perception of her with each visit. She wasn’t getting fatter or taller, just more rounded in her reality, and I found myself asking that internal question, so many times: how could we have been so blind, all of us? That soft murmur from the guest bedroom had finally sharpened my perception of Steph, but Alys was different in that she was more like one of those hidden pictures: once you saw the detail, you realised that you had simply not understood the image you had actually been seeing from the start.

I had known Alys since birth, just never seen her. I saw her then, finally.

The problem, of course, was that the picture wasn’t a still, for Alys needed a future, and that wouldn’t be served by staying indoors. I think it was about a month after our first meeting when I caught the shrapnel of her emergence.

I was having dinner at the Hiatts, a proper roast, naturally of lamb, the two girls (see?) conspiring in giggles over something that mattered to them, when I caught one of them saying the name of the village supermarket, almost buried in the stream of ‘Gog’ Welsh they both spoke.

“Vic, Nansi?”

Vic answered.

“Aye?”

“Pardon me if I’m being a bit, you know, intrusive…”

Nansi put a hand to Vic’s arm.

“Mike, not meaning to inflate your head, ah, but we can both see why these two kept you as a friend. If you’re asking a question, you’ll have a reason for it. Ask away”

I looked once more at the two children conspiring together, and brought a smile back for Nansi.

“Can’t understand their prattle, love, but I did catch the shop name, local supermarket?
I am guessing that keeping Alys indoors wouldn’t be healthy, so just wondering, you know, and guessing… Look, I know we went up to the falls, but that’s a sort of swamped by tourists place. Getting to the point, have you had much, well, reaction from neighbours?”

She looked hard at Vic, then back at me.

“Straight to the heart of things, you are. Yes. She has to go out, and I can see she’s listening to us now, not so, cariad? People are seeing her, and, well, that is something we need before she goes to the big school. No rubbish about surprising them, ah? And we have had a couple of comments that we would prefer had not been made”

She paused to take a sip of wine, grimacing slightly before smiling.

“We have a secret weapon, of course, who is sitting listening as hard as she can, yes you, Enfys. Mike, some people have been less than charitable, but they have held back from full-on attack, in my opinion, because it would be an attack on two children, and that seems to be a step too far for most”

Her last word left more questions, of course, but I was sure they would be answered as and when we got a moment away from the kids. That came later, after they had been settled together into Enfys’ room, in sleeping bags under a bedsheet ‘tent’. The rest of us settled into the sofa and armchairs as I awaited whatever extras Vic and Nansi might have for me. Nansi opened the batting.

“It’s not been to bad, Mike. Just one small group of nasties, and to be honest, most of them are just following the leader. Watkins family, not really from the village. Got a place between here and the town, Bangor, ah?”

I automatically glanced towards the stairs before asking.

“How bad is it?”

“Ah, just her, really, the mother. Her friends don’t seem that bothered unless she’s stirring then up”

She took her own little glance towards the stairs.

“Actually, I suspect her little boy is one of those who’ve been giving Alys grief at her school. He’s a spoiled little brat, na, Vic?”

She made a short comment in her own language, as that man nodded, then turned back to me.

“People are adjusting, Mike, and it does help that we are local proper, not just by address, and that lot are from over Clwyd. Tenants on the farm, ah? Alys is village business, and she’s a village girl, so ranks close. When Donna Watkins is about, well, we get stuff like ‘Pretty dress, love’ from the real locals. Lets the Watkins lot know their place, it does”

Nansi suddenly laughed, with real delight in her eyes.

“Thing is, after they’ve spent their time being nice to our girl to spite Donna, they forget to be nasty when she’s gone. I can, we can live with that!”

Vic was nodding.

“Aye, Mike. Reminds us of ourselves, as well. Early days, and a big adjustment. Takes time, it does”

I couldn’t argue with that one, but as I was seeing the changes in a version of time lapse photography, while their experience was in real time, I could only guess at the difference.

That was my life, then, for the time it took Alys to reach the September after her eleventh birthday, and every so often, when I could, I timed my weekend visits so that we could do our best, with the frequent reinforcement of the Woodruffs, to swamp the folk club, where, to be honest, nobody seemed to care how she dressed. It was the same when Betty and her family visited for their own weekend breaks, and while they had clearly benefitted from my heads-up, they simply took a little girl exactly as she was.

As we emerged from Winter, though, there were changes ahead, and Bets was their herald.

“Got enough sun block, Mike?”

“Eh?”

“So eloquent. That’s what happens when you spend all your free time among people speaking foreign languages”

“Er, don’t think it really counts as foreign, woman”

“Well, it’s not English, so there. Got that sun block, then?”

I suddenly clicked.

“Would you by any chance be on about reversed seasons, Betty?”

She nodded, grinning.

“Kul’s been dropping hints, or info, or threats, whatever. Boss is looking to send the next volunteer in a couple of months. I told you what I thought, ages ago, best for the kids and that, so it’s you in the frame, Mister Rhodes”

“Shit! What the hell do I do with the house?”

“How do I know?”

She let that one hang for a few seconds, before producing another grin.

“That’ll be why the MD is offering a three month slot to get your feet under the table and see if they fit. Me and my HWMBO can keep an eye. You might decide it’s not for you, and got a place to come back to, then. If not, we can research shipping arrangements. Kul can put you up for three months, he says, just a pity about the beer down there”

I found myself roaring with laughter.

“You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”

“Yup. But then so have---so had you. Mike, this is a chance at a new start, and, well… you won’t be betraying your wife if you go. I believe it’s what she would have wanted”

I prickled slightly at that, but I understood exactly how she meant it. Two months later, after a rather excessive leaving do at Shaun’s place, I was heading for Gatwick. I made one stop, at Luton, where I spent three hours with Caro, sitting on my overly heavy suitcase.

“Not sure if I should be doing this, my love, but everyone else… I will be back. In three months; might decide it’s not for me. Might not work at all. Written a note for the clubs, and left them with the new flowers. Just know that I will never, ever stop loving you”

In the end, I had to go, grabbing a local taxi back to the station. And then the Thameslink directly to Gatwick, where Geoff was waiting for me with his van. A quiet evening at the family home, a decent breakfast helped along with the black pudding I had carried down from Sheffield, and then a sombre farewell in the North Terminal. Steph’s hug was fierce, Geoff’s only slightly less so.

“We’ll look after Alys, Mike”

“Yeah, well, Neil’s also promised. Got a present for you: my spare door keys. Betty’s looking after the place for the next three months, and all the beds have been stripped, but if you fancy crashing there, if you’re doing anything in the Peak, she knows”

I gave them my brightest grin.

“Kul’s out there, so it’s not as if I’m leaving all my friends, is it?”

Just my wife.

CHAPTER 36
The double act had dropped me off at the North Terminal, ready for the Emirates flight. I had dumped my hold bag the previous evening, so it was just a matter of working my way step by step through security, and then switching my brain off while waiting for the call to a gate, then repeating the process at said gate, lined up in banks of chairs with backs that sloped too much for comfort.

Onto the plane, thankfully to one of a pair of seats rather than a row of three, and settle my odds and sods for the long slog. Daylight over Europe became night over the Persian Gulf, followed by a too-long stay in the shithole that is Dubai airport.

I still bought a new digital SLR camera, though. And its friends the compact Olympus and that simple underwater camera. Bugger my UK Customs allowances; I wasn’t going back for at least three months, so sod it.

Oh yeah: I got a watch as well, and a bottle of single malt for Kul. It was only one of Glenmorangie’s offerings, but I felt sure he wouldn’t say no. Easily pleased, that man.

I suppose it was my way of clearing my mind of images of Australian lizards waiting on the roadside by the corpse of their mate. New things to see, new things to snap, familiar things to sup..

Onto the plane for the last and longer leg, off into the darkness and away from the avarice, the cabin display cycling from ‘Where we are’ through ‘Where Mecca is’ and back again. I pulled my sleep mask over my eyes, set my ear buds in place and did my best to drift away with some Sigur Ros.

Shit! Where was I? On a plane, with the blinds going up as the breakfast trolleys came round. The scrolling map said we were somewhere over the Indian Ocean, so once my tray was cleared, I settled down to stare out of my window at, well, sweet FA. In the end, I gave up looking at an unchanging ocean and pulled my sleep mask over my eyes once more. No way I would be able to sleep, but…

“Please ensure your seat belts are fastened” along with a load more stuff about approaches and final destinations, we hope you have enjoyed, and so on, and finally, finally there was a coastline, and houses not that far beneath us, and my table was stowed, my seat upright, as we hit the runway at long bloody last. I felt like shit, and let almost everyone else get off before I finally dragged myself out of my seat, gathered my possessions, and staggered off after the others.

Bugger joining the Jet Set.

The light through the windows on the airbridge was too bright, the baggage trolleys were shite, the questions on the Customs/Immigration card were bloody stupid, but I concentrated on Steph’s advice Not to Be An Arse as I was processed. Finally, I was able to hit the exit, having abandoned the baggage trolley on the basis of it being absolutely shite, and there, to my intense relief, were Kul and Dil. They were both grinning like absolute idiots. Kul was almost insufferable.

“G’day cobber! Ripper, she’ll be right, bonzer, et bloody cetera. Feel enough like shit, Mike?”

I gave him my very best thousand year grimace, as Dil tried to chuckle rather than giggle, but I was too tired to maintain my snark. A flock of some very noisy birds shouted past, and Kul stepped in for a hug.

“Get you home, mate, and let you recover. No fun taking the piss out of the walking dead”

They had a car. There were roads, that carried a lot of traffic. There was a house with very wide eaves. There was a bed…

“No, mate. You feel like shit now, but it will be far worse if you sleep”

There was a kitchen, with tea, and sandwiches that teamed bacon with fried eggs. In my delirium, I realised how hard Kul was working to ease my arrival. The bacon still tasted odd, though. They took me out for a meal a couple of hours later, before leaving me, finally, to sleep. I still have no idea what sort of meal it actually was.

Breakfast was a much simpler affair, for I was almost rational, and my sleep deprivation was easing. Sangeeta was already at work, and Dil off to college, so it was just the two of us for the meal, eaten in an airy kitchen made more so by wide open door and windows, all covered by mesh screens. Cereal, scrambled eggs on toast and lashings of tea did the job, Kul grinning as he gave me my first bit of local information.

“That breeze, mate? It’ll change direction this afternoon. Until then, it’s just going to get warmer. Bit of a heatwave on right now, so a hat is a good idea. Afternoon, breeze will turn and get cooler. Locals call it The Doctor. Got a few things planned for today, first one being a look round our office, or what there is of it, and I have a site visit at three I want to take you on. New customer, this one, so I’ll be as fresh to it as you will”

“What sort of business is it?”

“New car hire business, mate. Big thing out here in the middle of nowhere”

He caught something in my face, and waved at the window.

“Biggest state in Oz, this one, and covers around a third of the country, and we are right out at the bottom left-hand corner. Sandgropers call it the most isolated capital city in the world. Er, term for the locals, that. Most of the population, and therefore business, hugs the coast, but there re places inland we’re sounding out. The car hire stuff is mostly for the real middle of the state. Three things they do… Ah, leave that for now. Going to drive you round a bit of the city, then into the CBD for a book in with the office, then a bite to eat before the customer”

“CBD?”

“Town or city centre, mate. Central Business District. Only real high rises in the place. Now, I am reasonably certain that you don’t have a scoobies about where you are, state you were in when you arrived. This is Joondalup, in the North of the city. Lots of places end up with up, my little joke. I sometimes say ‘Come down to up’, but that’s too contrived. Means something like ‘meeting place’ in a local language. So, the layout: Swan river comes in from the East, opens out into a massive sort of lake, then narrows again and runs to the sea at Freo, Fremantle. CBD is to the North of the river, near King’s Park, which is where I took the pic of the brewery from”

He grinned at that.

“Still all bloody lager, though! Oh, and yes, we have beaches nearby, though some of them give onto some nasty rocks under the water. Shops, the big ones, are all around the CBD. I mean, there’s lots of them there, not that they’re all there. Office is on William Street. All low rise round there, and loads of eateries rather than posh shops. It’s a bit of a Chinatown, to be honest. Pair of slacks and a buttoned shirt I would suggest; going to be hot”

I took the hint, and did my best to sort out a version of ‘local business attire’, and then we were off in Kul’s Toyota, first for a look at the nearest beach, before looping back round into an urban motorway. Everything looked low-rise, but I could see some high-rise buildings ahead, a very small number of them.

“Original homes here, or the older ones, tended to sit on big plots. Newer ones get squeezed onto smaller ones. As a mate put it, not only can you see and hear your neighbours, but smell them too.. Very much a two-tier thing. He’s got an extension on his own place that’s three times the size of the original house, and he’s still got a huge garden. Right… hang on…”

We left the motorway and entered a maze of absolutely straight roads in an obvious grid pattern. There were indeed signs everywhere in Chinese characters, none of the buildings rising above the first floor. After a series of right-angled turns in both directions, I spotted a ‘Williams St’ sign, and Kul grunted.

“Long bloody street, mate. At least we can park out the front; business has a permit deal with the City. Buses are free around most of the centre, but they recognise we need the cars. Hang on again…Oh, handy! Two are out@ easier to park”

The bay was recessed into a very wide footpath, more evidence of how much space had been allowed in the older parts of Perth, and after Kul had locked up, he took me to a small building that declared itself to be ‘Talbot and Swan Business Services’. I recognised the ‘Talbot’ bit from home, but ‘Swan’?

Kul laughed out loud before he explained.

“Two names sound more pro than one, Mike, and Swan is just the river. They turned down my suggestion”

“I’m going to regret asking, aren’t I?”

His trademark cheeky grin flashed through his beard.

“Might do… There was a famous explorer, did the first circumnavigation of Oz, or something. His name’s everywhere. Wanted to use that, and Swan, of course, for Perth”

“What was his name?”

“Er… Flinders”

“Flinders. And Swan. You get bloody worse every day”

“Yeah, but you love me, really. Come on in’ see the office, but looks like the crew’s out”

Into a wonderfully cool reception area, aid con obviously working, and Kul signed me in for the benefit of the woman on the desk.

“Ronnie, this is Mike. New chum, raw prawn, pommie bastard, et cetera. Mike, this is Veronica, the Keeper of the Keys. She should have the---thanks, Ronnie!”

She passed him a cardboard filing box, wincing as she did so.

“Mike, is it? Was this one as bad back in his own miserable country?”

I gave Kul as hard a stare as I could manage before replying.

“Worse. At least I hope it was worse, cause that would mean he won’t be as bad here”

“Well, everyone’s out today, so you’ll be free for a look-see. What are you up to this arvo, Kul? That ute place out by Kalamunda? Nothing else in your diary for today”

Kul nodded.

“Exactly that, love. Quick tour od this place, show him where the dunny is, grab a bite up there”

She snorted out a laugh.

“Kul. It really doesn’t matter how many words and phrases you pick up, you will ALWAYS sound like a pom. Just stay away from the whingeing, okay? And welcome, Mike. I’m sure you know how to handle this one, probably better than me, ay?”

She was grinning happily as she spoke, so I simply gave her a Paddington stare, with the words, “You think anyone can handle this one?”

Another snorting laugh.

“Well, we are sort of management consultants! Welcome to the madhouse, Mike”

I followed Kul into the private offices, whispering “What on Earth is a dunny?”

“Loo, bog, crapper, netty, place of easement, you get the idea. Out that door; ours is second on the left. What do you fancy for lunch?”

“What can you offer?”

“Bit of a twisty drive up there, but there’s a decent sandwich and pie shop off Canning Road, and a great place to sit and eat it. Ready to rock?”

I nodded, and he led me back to the car. We followed more of the grid out of the ‘CBD’, and past the airport, before ending up on a seriously long climb. I could see myself topping 50 mph on a bicycle, but definitely only in one direction.

“Welshpool Road, mate. Takes us right up to the top of the hill, where the customer is. Oh! Three, things, yeah? The business?”

“Okay”

“No Spanish Inquisition, Mike. Only three. First is the road trip up north, usually Broome and/or the Kimberley. Second is the crossing, from here to Sydney, usually. Both of those tend to need various types of camper van”

“The third?”

“Poncing about in the middle of the state. That’s a game for four wheel drive stuff, and yes, they do four-by-four camper vans”

He filled me in on some of the more esoteric tourist games, before we arrived at a shopping area with a cluster of small shops.

“Here we are—Mrs Miggins!”

The sign actually read ‘Mrs Mac’s’, but I got the joke. I put on my best Tom Baker voice.

“Does she bake a woman’s pie, Darling?”

His snort was louder, and far more uncouth, than Ronnie’s had been. We picked up a couple of sandwiches, as well as a brace of meat pies; the standard pie everywhere, according to Kul. He drove us back through another maze of confusing roads to a car park on the edge of a steep drop.

“See the towers, mate? Perth CBD. And after we’ve eaten this…”

There was a path through long grass, past some odd corky stubs Kul told me were the stumps of burned grass trees, and as we walked he was issuing all sorts of half-joking remarks about snakes. I realised all too quickly that he wasn’t really joking, despite his tone. The long grass gave way to a small building, a poor excuse for a waterfall, and a decent path winding down the gully that held the watercourse.

“Lesmurdie falls, mate. Grab a seat on the bank there, and dig in. Oh—there’s something new for you”

A large lizard with a short, bulbous tail was edging out onto the path, just downhill from us. It opened its jaws, and a bright blue tongue emerged.

“Blue tongued skink, mate. Locals call it a stumpy, cause of its tail”

And they mate for life, Kul.

CHAPTER 37
It hissed at a couple of walkers on the path, no teeth visible, and then ambled back into the long grass. Kul waved at the nodding stems. Kul waved at it from our perch on some railings.

“You’ve probably guessed I am actually serious about the snakes, mate. Always, always check grass and that before you walk into it. Avoid the long stuff if you can. Don’t step over dead logs, walk round them. Don’t peer into holes. Whatever you do, even indoors, don’t poke your hands into somewhere you can’t see”

“Snakes indoors?”

“No. Spiders, redbacks mainly. Nasty little bastards. Fond of places like pantries and that. Snakes here are mainly two types, dugites and tigers. They can look similar, depending on age, but the first makes you sick rather than dead, and if you make enough noise it sods off”

“I am going to regret asking this, but the other one?”

“Potentially lethal, curious and aggressive. Neighbour lost a dog near my place the other day. Sorry, but you needed the heads-up. Now, back home?”

He twisted to face me, brow furrowed.

“What is the gen on your mate’s kid, Mike? At that age, how can anyone know stuff like that?”

I tossed a bit of sandwich crust towards a black and white bird, which snatched it up, only to be mobbed by about six others, who were not holding back as they attacked. What a country.

“Kul, I spoke to her in hospital, okay? Her words were that she’d told her parents, but they never listened. Spoke but was never heard sort of thing. Not about adult knowledge, starting with your point about age. I did some reading up afterwards. Kul, are you left or right-handed?”

“Right”

“How do you know?”

“I just---- Oh. I just know. That’s your point, isn’t it?”

“Yup. We have one little girl in the wrong box, who’s just arriving at the time when the difference becomes important, and she was bloody desperate”

He was shaking his head, so I squeezed his shoulder.

“Kul, once she was listened to, once she was heard, then, well, she was bloody well seen. It’s right for her, and calling her exactly that is so obvious we’re all kicking ourselves for being idiots”

“How is Enfys taking it?”

“Not a worry at all, Kul. Her friend’s happier, and that’s fine by her. Vic and Nansi are a lot happier as well. Getting a name for their kid’s problem, does a lot to ease things. Thing is, Bets and Shaun, they all saw it before the rest of us. The way of things, I suppose, being too close to a puzzle. Needs a fresh eye, or a bit of perspective. Anyway, that’s supposed to be our job, isn’t it? Shall we get on?”

He just nodded, then waved at the murderous pied birds.

“Local magpies, Mike. Fucking vicious bastards, will have your eyes out”

“Best I avoid them?”

“Especially if cycling. Land on your crash hat, reach around for your eyeballs. Hell of a song, though. No, not while eating your eyeballs!”

We made it back to the car without being bitten or blinded, and carried on up the hill until it levelled out and we followed a wider road.

“Canning Road, Mike. Main drag here and---yup! Remember those?”

“Bloody jell—Woolworth’s?”

“Not quite the same. No quarter pound of pick’n’mix sweets there”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. Aussies are metric”

“Sod!”

“Pom bastard. Right.. Coming up to Mead Street; there in a couple”

We drove past a lot of low-rise shops before Kul turned into what was obviously our van hire customer. Out of the car into the heat, and then once again the joys of an air-conditioned reception area. A wiry little man waved at us, a grin splitting the sunburn-cum-tan of his face.

“Hiya Kul! Who’s this bastard?”

“Mike Rhodes mate. New chum, fresh out of the tin can”

“Want a cold one, Mike? Not a beer. Got some softer stuff in the fridge. LLB do you?”

Kul put on a stage whisper.

“Just say ‘yes please’, Mike”

The drink came from a plastic bottle, and ad an odd pinky-peach colour, tasting of lime with an undertone of something sharper. I didn’t care: it was cold.

“Chat here, Kul? And hi, Mike: I’m Rod. Kul filled you in on what we do?”

In at the deep end, thank you very much Kul.

“Up to a point. He mentioned three facets of your business, and if I get this wrong, blame him”

“Fine by me, mate. What’s he said?”

“Well, three things, really. Long drive up North to see reefs and cliffs and things, long drives from one coast to another, and driving like an idiot in the sandy bit in the middle”

‘Rod’ laughed happily.

“He’s right on the button there! I try to avoid the hoons, and it’s not sand in there, mostly, but bloody dry dust or salt pan. Most of our trade is either to the East or up the top end of the state. Only had two circular ones so far, right round Oz and back here, though I do regular work repairing rigs for grey nomads. Sometimes sell them a new one”

“Could you rewind a bit, Rod? Hoons? Nomads?”

“Hoons, mate, are yobboes. Usually drive a ute with roo bars and a lamping rack. You’d probably call it a pick-up. Grey nomads are retired people. Buy a camper, sell up everything else, then spend their last years following the weather round Oz”

I grinned at the image that brought up.

“Wouldn’t work back home, Rod. Not got the weather for that, unless you like cold and rain, especially in Scotland. Though I will say I do love the Scottish Summer”

I paused, for effect.

“It’s my favourite day of the year”

I got the obligatory laugh, and then cut to the chase, as I saw it.

“Let me see if I have it right, then. No idiots out in the desert to bend your stock in trade. I assume the ones heading up to Broome come back the same way. That leaves the other side of the country, so, in short, how do you get those vehicles back?”

Rod’s mouth twisted.

“That’s the problem, Mike, and why I don’t hire out to those going up to Darwin, where the real nutters live. Everybody wants to drive the Nullarbor, but once is enough for anyone but a trucker. If I were, if this was a bigger hire place, then yeah, I’d have a branch in Sydney or Melbourne. Got a couple of mates, sometimes have a job over there, and they’ve driven the vans back, but I’ve also had to find space on a road train”

I looked at Kul, who I suspected was having the same idea as myself, and asked a question that was obvious to me, but not to Rod.

“How are we off for canals round our way, mate?”

“Loads of them. Loads of hire companies, as well”

“Rod, some people like to putter around canals, either in modern cruisers or the old narrowboats, and when I say ‘putter’, I mean slower than a very slow thing. Same problem for the boat hire people. Where… My wife and I lived down south, and there was a canal there cutting through a decent nature reserve. Birdwatching was her thing, so, well. I could tell you about stupid things done by canal boaters, but not now. We saw one boat, and it had a plate on it saying it was from somewhere near York, and we were just outside London, so…”

Bloody idiot that I was. Breathe, Rhodes.

“My wife asked them what the score was, and the Yorkshire yard had set up some deals with other boatyards. Hire a boat from York to London, hand it in at London. London yard fettles it---er, maintenance, check over, refuelling, that sort of thing. They then hire it back to someone who wants to go up to York. Each boatyard has an incentive to do a decent job on the other’s craft

“I get the idea, but I don’t know anyone on the other coast”

Kul held up a hand.

“I rather think that issue comes under our job description. Now, why don’t we start with a list of the places people want to drive to? They can’t all want to go to Sydney. It’s not like it’s ‘See Sydney and die’, is it?”

Rod muttered something about Coober Pedy and Kalgoorlie, then laughed.

“I hear Sydney can get a bit feral at night, but at least they don’t have as many crocs as up the Top End. Sounds like a goer, if we can find the right partners. Now, got a recovery due back shortly, someone who isn’t getting their bloody deposit back. Wannabe bloody off-roader who didn’t understand the difference between off road and unmade road. Thick as roo shit”

We said our goodbyes once we had Rod’s list of destinations, and settled back into Kul’s Toyota, but I noticed he didn’t start the engine.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay? You went a bit funny in there”

Not today, tears. Piss off.

My instructions were ignored. With a whispered “Shit!”, Kul drove us away from the forecourt. Surprisingly quickly, we were on a back road shaded by trees with long blade-like leaves, where Kul pulled over, laying a long left arm over my shoulder and pulling me to him for a hug. The tears fell, the bastards, but Kul just waited them out. Once they were done, he let me sit up again.

“Talk to me, mate. Is this about your wife?”

I nodded.

“Couple of things, mate. Not your fault, but suppose I just feel this is a betrayal. She’s still back there, and I know she’s gone, but I still feel like a bloody deserter”

“She would have understood”

“I know that, mate, but it still feels wrong. Then there’s that lizard”

“What lizard?”

“Blue-tailed skink. It’s just an image… Look, something I found out. They end up as roadkill, a lot of them, but they mate for life. So the other one comes and waits by what’s left of their mate, until they end up the same way. That was what I was seeing in my life. I got out of that town and up to Sheffield, and that was me thinking about roadkill, no, not me. But that didn’t work. I found myself…”

I forced myself to take a few longer breaths.

“Kul, I was finding myself doing silly things on the rock, just like Steph was, but sober. Still waiting by the body, waiting for the car. Alys, Dafi as was, that pulled me back, gave me a job in life, but now, well, I’m here, and I’m sorry, but I wonder if I’ve done the right thing. Sorry”

I found him staring hard at me, before shaking his head.

“Nope. Not happening, no bloody squishing for you. Who’s looking after Alys?”

“Families, both of them. Enfys. Another friend”

“So when did you stop, given that there’s all sorts of video chat stuff we can use. Who did she come out to first?”

“Well, her Mum, but like I said…”

“No, you thick bastard: who did she come out to first who bloody well listened, and believed? This, you soppy idiot, is our plan, and note the ‘our’ bit. You have two little girls to keep in touch with, so that is what you will do. If Alys is being homeschooled, then seeing another face, even as pig-ugly as yours, will be vital. Now, there’s wet-wipes in the glove box. Best I can offer, before the office. Others will be back, so you need to dig out the cheerful version. Got me?”

“Got you”

He started the car once more, and drove carefully back to central Perth.

“That suggestion was one I was lining up to make, mate. The partner businesses”

“Sorry, Kul2

“Don’t be. Lets the customer see we work as a team. Now, should be at least two more in when we get back, according to their diaries. Local staff, or local-ish. One’s actually from Malaysia, the other one I’m expecting is a real foreigner, from Tassie”

“Where?”

“Tasmania. Where they all know their cousins very well”

He was off, thank god, making one particularly awful joke about his colleague using his fingers to count to eleven, and then we were back in our reserved parking bay, my newly expert senses picking up just a hint of ‘The Doctor’ starting to blow.

Ronnie waved happily.

“How’d the raw prawn do, Kul?”

“Probably got us a load of new business. Er, she’ll be right, bonzer, ripper, et cetera. And had his first LLB”

“Ooh! Anyway, Chad and Maryam are both in. Bounce it off them?”

“Will do, love”

Into the back office once more, two new faces awaiting introductions, which Kul dove straight into.

“You two, this is Mike Rhodes, my old mucker from the far North but not The Top End. Mike, this is Chad Meads from Tasmania, and Maryam Rahman from Kuala Lumpur”

CHAPTER 38
Chad was what I had always considered a typical, or perhaps ‘cliché’, Australian, in being too tall, too bony, too big in the nose and too sunburnt, especially on that overly long nose. I thought back to our friend in the campervan business, whose nose was similarly red, and wondered if I would end up as another Mr Rednose. It would be cheaper than getting there by drinking, anyway.

Maryam was a bit shorter, or rather a lot shorter, at around five foot six. Her own skin seemed to glow rather than radiate the heat I felt coming off Chad’s nose, and when she smiled at Kul’s repeated mention of ‘LLB’, I had to ask.

“Yes, the customer gave me some. I drank it. I sort of liked it. I have no idea what it is. That do, you teasing bastard?”

Kul laughed.

“You know me too well! One of you two want to explain?”

Chad raised a hand.

“Lemon, lime and bitters, Mike. That’s angostura bitters”

“What? Those funny little bottles wrapped in paper—”

“With all that writing on? And the yellow cap? That’s the stuff. You can buy it ready mixed, but my way… Get a glass, put about four drops of the bitters in it, roll the glass so it smears around its inside. Then add ice, lemonade and lime juice. LLB”

Kul snorted.

“Imagine it in Sheffield, mate. You go into the Banker’s Draft—if you’re bereft of sense---”

He put on an awful Yorkshire accent, but I reminded myself he was from Leicester.

“Ay up t’Landlord, ‘appen as like you’ve got any bitters in? Aye, he says, us ‘as got t’Tetley, and t’Sam Smith’s and t’Timmy t’Taylor”

I stared at him, slowly shaking my head.

“Chad, Maryam, his Yorkshire accent is as about as accurate as Dick van Dyke’s cockney or Meryl Streep’s English”

Maryam perked up.

“I thought hers was good”

I did my own eyebrow thing.

“Only if you think vase rhymes with base. Just trust me: the single thing Mister Butt here is good at is in taking the piss”

That and looking after his mates, of course, but that was a given, and hopefully always would be. Maryam replayed my eyebrows to me.

“Really? We hadn’t noticed, she lied badly. Mike, getting to the point, without Kul talking rubbish, what do you do outside work? Apart from drink?”

Kul interrupted before I could speak.

“Serious head on? Mike’s a climber. Me and Dal, he’s taken us out loads of times, both near to Sheffield and up in North Wales, not New South”

He paused, and all three did a clearly well-rehearsed sneer. I took my cue.

“What is there around here for a bit of climbing?”

I was surprised to see Maryam nodding.

“Statham’s Quarry, Mike. Or so I heard. It’s near the top of the Zig Zags”

“Sorry again?”

She sighed.

“Old railway line, now a road. Steep hill, trains had to do a shuffle back and forth to get up”

“Ah! I saw that on telly, somewhere in South America”

She nodded.

“Think I saw the same thing. Who would you climb with?”

I looked quickly at Kul, then smiled.

“I would have said him, but I suspect his boy Dal is more into it”

Chad looked at Maryam, playing another eyebrow game with her and getting a nod in response before he turned back to me.

“Mike, all of us here, on this team, we’re, well, none of us are locals, apart from Ronnie. I think if this is something we could try as a group, it might help us gel a bit more. Show us we can trust each other”

He stopped abruptly, then grinned.

“Christ, mate! I was sounding like a real bloody management consultant there, wasn’t I? Not meaning all that rubbish, honest. Just that Kul’s got his family here, but me and Maz, we’re on our own. I mean, we might hate it, but a fair go’s a fair go”

I could see his point, and as I had sneaked my rock boots into my luggage ‘just in case’, I was tempted.

“Makes sense to me, mate, but it’s something that would need a bit of technical gear, like harnesses, rope, other stuff”

Kul had a hand up, looking slightly embarrassed, which was a novel event in itself.

“We, Mike, me and Dal, we’ve got harnesses, and a rope. There’s some indoor climbing places we’ve used. Just not outdoors”

“Why not?”

“Two reasons, mainly. First is that it’s likely to be what they call trad climbing, and the indoor stuff is either bouldering over a crashmat, toproping or what you call bolt clipping. Me and the boy, we’re not that happy about setting up protection”

“But you’ve done it with me!”

“Exactly. Which is sort of the second reason. The missus was quite clear: we didn’t come halfway round the world so I could get me and the boy killed. Sangeeta was quite firm on that bit. Anyway, so we’ve got our harnesses, a rope, a few slings, ten or so quick-draws and a half-dozen screwgate krabs—I’ll explain later, you two. Enough to let us all have a go. Might even drag ‘Geeta up. She can do us some samosas and shit”

Maz rounded on him with a grin.

“You are one sexist bastard, Kul!”

He grinned back at her.

“Nope; I just know how shit I am in a kitchen, and so does my wife”

He paused for effect, the added, “And you lot don’t want to discover just HOW bad!”

We all laughed, if a little dutifully on my part, as I had already sampled breakfasts prepared by the man. He was clearly pushing his clown persona in the new office, and I wondered if he was, himself, feeling a little out of place. Leave it for now, Rhodes. I raised my own hand, following Kul’s example.

“What would work, then? And what’s the local rock? Kul here at least knows the difference between tufa, rhyolite and grit”

Another grin.

“My hands did, after that first time in the Peak. Couldn’t pick up a hot cup for days”

Maz chuckled.

“That’s meant to be an enticement to the rest of us?”

Kul shook his head.

“Chad, you logged into the net? Any chance of a search for rock type up there?”

“Give me a few, mate, and I’ll be there”

“Ta. Now, back to work stuff, sorry, but Mike made a suggestion to today’s client that might be a goer. Usual stuff, his line of business, except he avoids the four-by-four idiots as much as possible. So his big earners are whale shark watchers and Go East Old Man, plus whatever Grey Nomad stops by for a bit of RV R-and-R”

I realised I had missed that bit, so held my tongue, remembering Kul’s team working mantra. He pointed at me just then.

“Mike here had a chat with some canal plodder back home, and while a lot of that sort of thing can work as an out-and-back, he was told about a solution this man’s boatyard had found. Now, Rod up at Kalamunda, his biggest problem is getting his vans back from the East Coast, cause while the whale shark watchers and croc snoggers generally want to come back down to Perth, the side-to-side lot want to finish up on the East Coast and tick all their Really Aussie points. Mike’s canal plodder hire man, he has a deal with another boatyard. They fettle—er, do all the repairs and maintenance for each other’s boats, and then someone hires them for the return trip”

Maryam was nodding.

“Yeah, I get that, but it would take real trust between the businesses, and somebody would really have to fly over with the---oh, Kul, you sneaky so and so!”

He was shaking his head before she had finished speaking.

“Not so so and so, Maz. If I went on a jolly to Sydney, She Who Must Be Obeyed would not be a happy bunny. Anyway, you might have noticed I’m a family man, and, well. Seriously, if I go over there, I want to take her and the lad, all of us seeing it with fresh eyes. We do need some scoping out, though, and not just on the internet”

Chad chipped in.

“Two things from me. First, I have an answer on the rock, and in Britain it’s called dolerite. Second, I actually have a cousin—oh, stop sniggering! I have a cousin who moved to Sydney a few years ago. I could ask him to see what’s on offer over there, anyone advertising westbound hire. Gives us an opening move, if you like”

All of us were nodding agreement at that, but I wanted to know a little more before I fully committed.

“Chad, what’s your cousin do?”

“Er, runs a cinema”

Kul was straight in.

“Cinema? Arty films, he says with a knowing look. Nudge nudge, wink wink?”

“What on Earth are you on about, Kul?”

“Oh for god’s sake, he’s a bloody Australian! Monty Python. Eric bloody Idle”

“Is he some sort of film maker?”

“Holy Grail! The Knights Who Say NEE or whatever it is. Life of Brian?”

“Nope. And anyway, he changed his name to Loretta”

“You teasing sod!”

“Gotcha, finally! And, well, arty films, but not that sort. His place is near King’s Cross, and before you try again, that’s the one in Sydney. Why do you think he left Tassy?”

Chad turned to me with a smile holding just a touch of bitterness.

“Couple of things you need an explanation for, Mike. Tasmania is a bit looked down on; local joke has us as the state where everyone knows his cousins very well”

I tried to hide my grin.

“NFN. Er, Normal For Norfolk. Local people for local marriages, that sort of thing. Sorry: reference to another comedy show”

“I know. League of Gentlemen. We get your shows shipped over here as well, Mike. Anyway, I’ll say it before the man with the beard does: my perfect cousin, Kevin, Tassy isn’t the most accepting of gay people, and King’s Cross is one of the big Aussie LGBT centres, and that is the sort of ‘art flick’ he shows. And his husband’s a solicitor”

Kul was grinning even wider than he normally did.

“Chad, lad, I could bloody kiss you, even though I’m not your cousin! Shall we park this one in the ‘have a really deep think about details over the next few days’ file and see if any issues pop up from the dark depths of our subconsciouses? Oh, and that rock, Mike? You familiar with it?”

I nodded, waving a hand in front of me in a ‘so-so’ gesture.

“Climbed on it a lot, actually, mostly in Northumberland. They have a lot of sandstone crags there, like a softer version of gritstone, but there’s a dolerite sill crosses the whole county”

“Sorry, Mike, but a sill?”

“Sorry from me, Maryam. What they call an intrusion, where igneous, volcanic type rock, breaks through a crack in the local country rock. Ever seen a pic of Hadrian’s Wall?”

“Oh, yeah! Saw one of a lake, with a cliff coming up out of it and the wall running along the top”

“Right. That was probably Crag Lough, and that cliff is a popular climbing spot. Right next to that Sycamore Gap place everyone raves about, from that Robin Hood film”

She actually sighed, then caught herself and chuckled once more.

“No! Not over that chinless wonder. It’s just, well, that view, that place, if I could… Dream trip, yes? Anyway, back to this rock”

“Right. Solid, dependable, nice square-cut holds where they are, but bugger all in the way of friction. Not as little as slate, though. As long as you aren’t doing anything too silly, you’re fine. I think it’s a goer. You both in?”

She looked at Chad, who gave a double thumbs up, and Kul once again stuck his arm up.

“Are we all free on Saturday, then? Plan is to meet at the quarry, see how we get on, and then back to my place for a barbie and some Swan or whatever Maggie River offering works for you”

Maryam gave him an absolutely blistering Paddington stare.

“Don’t you think asking Sangeeta first might be in order?”

Another grin, and he held up his mobile phone.

“Her suggestion, o stroppy one, after I texted. And she’s offering somewhere for you two to doss down afterwards, so sobriety will not just be an unwelcome guest, but one that can stay out in the cold. Well, in this place, relatively cold. We on, then?”

No objections. I could put up with dolerite. As Kul drove us home, I tried to say thanks to him for all he had done, and he just held up a hand to silence me.

“Mike, I’ll get straight to the point, okay? Perth is an amazing place, so welcoming it’s stupid, but it is very, very different to where we were. Deliberately not saying ‘home’, if you see my point. Three Sikhs, well, we’re global, us, courtesy of the Empire, and our families, Geeta’s and mine, they’re not fans, like I told you”

He paused at a red light before continuing.

“You are a little link back ho--- back to that place where we were. That is always welcome, mate, as are you, and as will be any of your friends, especially the Hiatts, Edwards and Woodruffs, or that Neil you mentioned. Geeta and me, we’ve decided, and we’ve started the process of sorting a permanent stay here”

“Bloody hell, Kul. That’s quick!”

“Not really, mate. This place, well, it’s not perfect, but what we left, whether it be Sheffield, or The Other Town Starting With L, there’s no comparison. We have been bloody lucky getting this opportunity, and we won’t let it slip by us. We…”

Another, longer, pause, then he gave me a quick look carrying a sadder smile than normal, before turning his attention back to the road.

“You need to look at Maz and Chad as well, mate. Neither of them feels at home, and after Chad’s comments about his cuz, I can understand that”

I opened my mouth to reply, but Kul held out his right hand again to shut me up.

“Mike, I suspect it’s not just his cousin, okay? He’s come a fucking long way from home, but he hasn’t gone to the obvious place. Something’s not right there. Then there’s Maz. I mean, there’s out of place, and then, well. What’s pushed her away from home? Anyway, you probably think I’m talking too much about people you hardly know, but, well, I DO know you, and that is something I have really missed: a bloke I know well enough to be serious with”

Another set of lights, another pause.

“This weekend is a chance to start letting Maz and Chad feel safe enough to relax. You happy to help with that?”

I started to draw breath for a reply, and he simply laughed out loud.

“Course you are, Mister Rhodes, just as we will be here for you about dead lizards. We fully intend to help make it better, mate. Two way street, yes?”

I struggled for a reply, but all I could come up with was an irrelevant question.

“Croc snoggers? What was that all about?”

His grin came back.

“Ah, loads of salties, saltwater crocodiles, up north. The boy’s been buying climbing guides; somewhere in Staffordshire, ‘Dangerous Crocodile Snogging’. Liked the name”

“That’s bloody E7, mate!”

“Well, lad’s ambitious. Back to the point: two way street? We didn’t stop being mates because three os us moved away, and not that ‘three’. Geeta’s here for you. No shame in how you were in the car earlier, but we look for ways to heal. Healing doesn’t have to mean forgetting”

CHAPTER 39
The rest of the week was less scenic than my first visit, as I followed Kul around a number of businesses that included more than a few of that old favourite from Sheffield, the waste cooking oil account. Kul was quite bullish about them, which surprised me, for he had never pushed himself so far forward back in Yorkshire. I slowly came to understand how deeply he felt that the Australian venture was his own particular baby, and it would grow his way.

“There’s a trick we need to keep in mind, mate. We can go in as management consultants, just like those bloody companies back home with stupid slogans about DNA, where every other word is ‘solution’, and that gets us one bite at one cherry. Get their particular problem sorted, get paid, and then try and find another customer. I prefer the idea of trying to find a way to slip a hook in, so they stay landed. Got me?”

I just nodded, and he grinned, suddenly less serious.

“Me, I’m a sneaky Singh, so what we do is collar the biodiesel people first, THEN introduce the eatery to them. For the eatery, we do their accounts, which is Chad’s forte. ‘Hello Mister Deep Frier, your customer can haz cheeseburger and we can get you extra moolah for the grease and oil. Oh, and we’ll do your annual accounts, for this teeny, tiny additional fee’ sort of thing. All working on the ‘you already know us’ line. Hook in, steady income rather than a one-off. Our man in Kalamunda, if we get that plan off the ground, we’ll be looking to tie in the Sydney end as well. No ifs or buts, just steady money”

He paused, and I braced myself: yup.

“One Butt, of course! Right: two places this morning. First one’s a Chinese place, and I really rate their seafood. Second one’s a chippy and, well. Could be better, and think they might get there now that I’ve got them changing their sludge more often. Ready?”

That set the pattern of the week, and I could see my waistline suffering if I took up every offer of ‘Fancy a bite while you’re here, boys?’, but thankfully Kul had backed off from that first morning’s Full Aussie-British breakfast.

Each day brought finer tuning to my body clock, and I was able to get a better feel for the dynamics of both the office and the Butt family. It was quite a change seeing them in a home environment, rather than at the pub or just the two lads in the hills. It also cut me to the core, every so often, as I could see exactly how smitten Kul was with his wife, how that was returned with interest, and a clear lack of any concern for any concept of social place or caste system. They were a family, and that was all.

Our evenings were full of laughter, and I found my own share of the household expenses coming down to a visit to ‘the bottle shop’, as they called an off-licence in Australia, and more serious shopping as we prepared for the weekend’s ‘barbie’. My take on that Aussie institution had been filtered through Eric Bogle’s song, and I was led through the terms by Dal, including ‘snags’ and ‘Aerogard’. And, of course, I bought a hat.

My old sun hat was a narrow-brimmed cotton thing, one step up from a knotted hanky, handy for climbing in, but Dal took one look and burst into raucous laughter.

“Oh, Mike! How to say ‘Pom’ in a nit of cloth”

“What’s the alternative then, oh picture of sartorial elegance in shorts and leather sandals?”

“Ah, the decent ones are things like Akubras, which cost an absolute fortune. I have a Jacaru, which isn’t cheap, but it’s cheaper. Akubras are felt, but with the others, you can get shiny kangaroo skin ones, or sort of suede ones, plus some with mesh tops. I think those ones make you look like a butcher, though. Hang on…”

He popped out to the coat hooks in the hallway, and returned with a faded-looking suede hat, broad-brimmed and wrinkled in the crown.

“Crushable, Mike, but comfy, and they don’t get too hot. Very easy to underestimate the sun here. Dad might stick with the turban, but all that hair gets annoying”

I had noticed his haircut on first arriving, but hadn’t wanted to raise the subject myself. There it was now, out for discussion.

“Your parents don’t mind?”

“I think Mam might, but not as a big thing, or not as big as my grandparents would. They’d throw a fit! Hang on—just going to grab something Mam made, for calls home”

Out again, and this time he returned with a fully-wrapped turban, which he slipped onto his head.

“Mam sewed this, Mike. When we Skype home, I pop this on, and it looks like I’m being a good little Singh for them”

He burst out laughing, and between gasps, he pointed out that it was unlikely any hatter would make one big enough to fit over a Sikh turban.

“Anyway, still got the beard, bangle and blade, but I draw the line at the knickers. Oh, and I have some tricks for the barbie. And the climbing, too. Things are done a bit different over here”

“You haven’t been sneaking out on your own, Dal?”

He shook his head emphatically.

“Not likely, Mike! Just stuff I heard down at the indoor place me and Dad use. Stuff about bolts”

“You have me worried now”

“Don’t be. I did some shopping”

That worried me more, but I left it for the Saturday. I would need to watch him.

Four of us left the house that morning, my new copy of Dal’s hat in place on my head, and Geeta insisting that someone needed to maintain control of what she called eskies, a pair of rather large insulated bags that held our daytime supplies. We parked at the top of the interesting ‘zig zag’ road before Dal led us towards the quarry, which had a frustrated Chad and Maz waiting at a locked gate. Dal grinned, “Got the code from the Parks people”, opened the combination lock, and we were in, and I felt immediately at home.

It was busy, but nothing like the Popular End of Stanage on a holiday weekend would have been. It was a typical quarry venue, with a level floor and a few remnants pf spoil heaps in some of the scruffier corners. I could spot a number of shiny bolt hangers on the rock, as well as what looked like rusting bolt heads.

“Dal, I thought this was a trad place, not sports climbing?”

“There’s some trad stuff, but a lot of the top bolts are Aussie style”

“Please explain…”

“Well, normally, you drill in, put a bolt through the hanger, do it up tight? Then people just clip the hangers with quick-draws?”

“I know that”

“Well, over here, they improvised”

“I am not going to like this, am I?”

I could see Maz and Chad sitting up, eyes locked on Dal.

“Makes it more like trad climbing”

“Go on”

“Well, you take a big bolt, and you grind it down so it tapers. Then you drill the hole, or find a crack, and hammer the bolt in as far as it will go. That leaves the hex head sticking out with a quarter-inch or so of bolt”

“So how do you clip it?”

“You carry a second chalk bag, with hangers in it. Slip one over the top of the bolt, then clip it”

“And what’s to stop it simply lifting back off the bolt?”

“The krab blocks it”

I muttered something under my breath, while he held out exactly what he had described, a spare chalk bag. It clinked.

“Grades, Dal? How do they grade their routes?”

“Simple number system, starting at one. V Diff is about eleven, E1’s about eighteen, and so on. Printed a sheet off with some route descriptions and grades. Some trad routes, but without gear, we’ll be stuck on the sport routes”

I shook my head.

“Without gear, or any experience on this stuff, and three complete novices, we’ll be stuck on toproping”

I paused, before adding, “Unless I see a really tempting slab route without any bloody Aussie death traps”

I found a place to settle our kit, and then started to talk the newbies through the calls and general ‘good practice’. Just as I went through the ‘why’ of not looking up at a call of ‘BELOW!’, a climber approached our group.

“You’ll be a pom, then? I’ve seen these two down the Vault. You fancied some fresher air, then, Dal?”

“Oh hi, Vern. This is Mike. Just joined us from Sheffield, working with Dad. He’s the one who first took us out on the rock”

‘Vern’ was in a loose T-shirt and looser trousers, obviously as a concession to the local sun conditions. I offered a hand, and he shook it with a particularly tight grip.

“What you climb, Mike?”

“Oh, all sorts, grit to slate”

“No, mate: what grade?”

“Oh, god knows in your system, but I’ve managed a hard E6 in the UK, but that was on slate, so it was bolted. Done some softer E6 routes on grit, though”

“That’ll be trad style?”

“Real climbing, I prefer to call it. Yes, trad”

“Bloody hell, mate. Careful how you sit down, you must have huge balls! What’s E6?”

Dal chipped in.

“Don’t know, but E1 is eighteen, and then it’s about two to an E-number, so…. About 28?”

“Strewth, he says, trying not to be rude in front of the ladies. And trad? Bloody brass bollocks! What you here to do?”

I shrugged.

“Three new chums here, not done anything before, so I just wanted to give them a go, see if they like it, and have a picnic”

“Good on yer. What gear you got?”

“Er, three harnesses, some slings, krabs and quickdraws, and one rope”

“Well, I’m helping with a group. Got some spares, harnesses that is. Want a lend of some shit? And knowing this place, a bloody bash hat’s a good idea””

I suppose that was my first real encounter with the Perth attitude of open-hearted welcome, and the day took off, as Vern simply wrapped us up with his group. There were all the usual moments, including people being lowered giggling after failing on a move, but as that was usually Chad, nobody minded. I was introduced to Vern’s group as a ‘visiting Pom expert’, which was certainly not true, and a bonus for me was the opportunity to follow him up a couple of routes at about 23 local grade, e2-3 for me. He also gave me my first experience of ‘Aussie bolts’ and, well…

Are they all mad?

For my part, I led a 23 and a 24 in between helping out both with Vern’s own learners and my crowd, and I caught more than a few grins passing between all three of the Butt family.

I couldn’t imagine a better day that hadn’t involved my wife.

We finally parted ways with Vern’s lot in the mid-afternoon, as the heat was getting far too much to cope with, all sorts of offers and invitations coming our way from the climbing group, and then drove back to the family home, where Chad and Maryam were shown to spare corners for that night’s kip, and the shower, which we all needed. It was rather amusing when both Kul and Geeta turned up wearing towel turbans over their long, wet hair. I waited till last, and by the time I was back with the rest, Kul and Dal had the barbeque burning properly.

Chad was utterly Australian in having an ‘electric eskie’ in his car, basically a battery powered portable fridge, in which he had packed a collection of shish kebabs, marinated cuts of fish, and so on, while Dal’s contribution was simplicity itself, in being chunks of feta dusted with chilli powder and wrapped in foil. Getta had prepared the promised samosas, Kul a superb range of salads, and I, well, I had got the local bottle shop to deliver a decent quantity of beers, wines and, as I couldn’t be sure about Maryam, a mix of soft drinks including ready-made LLB.

So the sun shone on my new hat, and the breeze turned into the Doctor, pushing the flies away as afternoon turned into evening, and it was sailing ships and sealing wax, cabbages and kings, as I spotted that Maryam was most definitely not avoiding the alcohol on offer, nor the pork.

CHAPTER 40
It was a superb evening, to follow a great day, and as the skies darkened, Chad spotted me looking up.

“You’ll be looking for the Cross, Mike. Won’t see it from here. Too much light pollution”

He laughed ruefully.

“And here’s me, from a place that’s all forest, clouds and bloody rain. Hey, Maz? Think we should take this one out for a night in the bush?”

She swallowed a mouthful of some beer I hadn’t ordered, called ‘Toohey’s Extra Dry’, and frowned at him.

“Nobody’s taken ME out for a night in the bush yet! Anyway, what bush? This is all wheatbelt and city, And NO, I am NOT sleeping in a bloody tent wondering what’s going to climb into my sleeping bag. Hang on… read something in the papers the other day… Pass my phone, Geeta?”

Dal perked up at her request.

“You want to search the net? Easier on my laptop”

Oh dear: the puppy love was so obvious I had to bite my lip to avoid laughing. He bounced from his chair, and in less than a minute had his laptop open on our ’bar’ table. Maryam pulled her chair over, as did Chad, and she started tapping at the keyboard, a moment later giving an expansive, and slightly inebriated, wave at the screen.

“Now, this is what I’m talking about!”

I joined them for a look at the result of her search, and it was a picture of a sort of Swiss-style wooden hut or chalet with an immense window almost covering the entire front of the building. The caption read ‘Earth, Calm and Fire’. Maryam started to read out the details, so I dropped back into my chair with another bottle of beer.

“It’s mostly locally sourced materials, it says. Rammed earth walls, jarrah wood for the rest of it”

Chad said his piece, about all the glass, and Maz nodded.

“Give you that. But… Three bedrooms, and the mezzanine. Behind that big window, there’s a raised deck with another bed. And there’s a kitchen, and a big TV and sound system… and a hot tub”

Another swig from her bottle, another grin, with dimples. Dal was fully focussed on her every move.

“This girl, well, it’s down by Margaret River, so we have these units in woodland, clear-felled in front of the big window and each cottage separated from the others. Barbie out the front, days spent on the beach at Gracetown after a little tour around Certain Establishments”

I noted the way she emphasised the last two words, and she caught my slight frown.

“Mike, it’s all wineries down there. Day at the beach, lunch at a winery, then sample their output in the hot tub after that barbie, or a proper restaurant meal in Maggie River. I mean, the units are shaped like tents, but that’s as close as I want to get to one”

She turned her attention directly to me.

“I also saw, while I was looking on the… I turned maps on, then zoomed in on Maggie so I could see exactly where the place is, and I spotted something else. Have a look…”

She clicked on another tab, and brought up a site for sea cliff climbing.

“Can’t… hang on..”

She started typing and clicking, and eventually laughed.

“Got it! Long granite ridge makes the cliffs, limestone behind it makes the caves around Maggie”

Chad looked up from the lamb chop he was savaging.

“How do you know there’s caves there, Maz?”

“Cause the road is called ‘Caves Road’, young man!”

She turned to me, after looking at both Sikh men.

“Today was superb, Mike. Never done anything like that before, and never thought I would, or, to be truthful, that I could. That Vern, well: do you always just walk into people like that?”

I smiled, remembering my first meeting with Carolyn, as well as my reintroduction to Steph.

“Honestly? I suppose I do. Just lucky”

“No. Not lucky, you. Got a way of skinning… You’re good at getting under people’s skin, in a nice way, not nasty. Anyway, my prosposal, proposal, is we look at a time when we might all be out, on a Friday and a Monday, get Ronnie to cover any callers, or have our mobiles, anyway, and we make a long weekend of it. And I get a bird tick out of it”

Chad almost spilled his drink, he jerked so much.

“I didn’t realise you were into that as well! I’d have dragged you down to King’s Park!”

“You silver-tongued Romeo, you”

The man actually blushed.

“Not like that, Maz. Just lots of good birds there. What’s the tick?”

“Red-tailed tropicbird. They nest on a sea stack near there. Southernmost bit in the world thingy. How many beers I had? Don’t answer; don’t care. Yeah, so we look up the place, and we get a proper weekend’s relaxing. Sound good? Anyone got another cold one?”

I walked into the house to see what was left in the fridge, and was followed by Sangeeta, who made sure that her son was still sitting outside before she spoke.

“Dal’s got a big crush on her, Mike. First time she’s ever been relaxed this much around him, so Kul and I are keeping a close watch”

“I suspect she’s more, er, relaxed than she planned”

“Pissed, you mean? No. Tipsy, yes. Tipsy’s fine. I’ll ease her to bed if she starts getting too wrecked. Chad’s odd, though: he’s really watching what he drinks”

She chuckled, all of a sudden, and grinned.

“Here’s me being all sneaky, and I’m just wishing he could open up. Him and that other lad, oh dear me”

“Sorry?”

“Men! What did God give you eyes for, you never use them! That Vern boy; I suspect Dal’s not the only one with a crush”

“You saying Chad’s gay?”

“Could dance both sides, I think. What I hear about Tasmania, only to be expected he’s a bit shy. Then there’s you”

“What about me?”

She settled herself against the kitchen cupboards, arms folded, and smiled sadly at me.

“My husband and me, we talk, love. I heard about how you were the other day, but trust me, I am the only one he will ever share that sort of confidence with. We both know some of what happened. How you lost her, yes? Remember his words, about healing and not forgetting? Yes, he told me what he said, and I was so proud of that. I chose a good man. Pissed off our families, but that’s tough. I think this evening’s helping that along”

I smiled at her, admiring her openness.

“So that’s all of us except Maryam analysed”

“Oh, she’s an easy one. Only got one problem, as I see it”

“Go on?”

“Not now, but there’s other stuff. Not exactly observant for a Muslim, what with the pork sausages and alcohol, so I suspect that there might be a similarity there, between her family and ours”

“You sure she’s a Muslim?”

“The name’s a clue, love, and besides, she’s Malaysian. It’s automatic”

“People can change, Geeta”

“Not there they can’t. It’s the law. Anyone who is what they call an ‘ethnic Malay’ is Muslim from birth. One of my own cousins, doesn’t matter how many times removed they are. We’re worldwide, us Sikhs, just like Kul said. Anyway, relative, he gets married to a Malay girl. She converts to our faith, they have a couple of kids, she goes home on a visit, and they take the kids from her and put them into care. Two more automatic Muslims because of their Mam, and her marriage is annulled in Malaysia because of the conversion to Sikhism”

Geeta stopped suddenly, drawing in a couple of long, slow breaths.

“Sorry. I was a lot younger when it happened, and I spent many nights wondering when the police would come for me. I know, but I was a LOT younger, and that’s how kids think. Rant over, but that’s my take on Maryam. So: got her that cold beer?”

I grabbed a couple of bottles from the fridge, as she did the same ‘for her boys’, and we settled ourselves in the garden once more, where Dal was showing Maryam and Chad a set of pictures on his laptop. Maz waved me over, so I moved my chair closer after handing her the fresh bottle.

“Where’s this pic, with the two little girls and the train?”

Kul looked up sharply, and made a shushing gesture to his son. I answered for us all.

“Right… That’s me”

“I know that, Mike!”

“That’s Dal and Kul”

“Stop teasing!”

“Okay. Keith and Penny Hiatt, and that kid is their daughter Enfys. Means’ Rainbow’ in Welsh; that lot are all Welsh speakers. Other couple are Vic and Nansi Edwards, and their little girl Alys. That’s A-L-Y-S”

“What’s that mean?”

“Alice”

“Bloody tease! Where was it taken?”

I looked to Dal, and he answered for us.

“Got a tourist to take a snap, so we’d all be in. That’s Cwm Idwal”

“Looks wet”

“It often is, in Wales”

I tapped his shoulder.

“Not always. Got some of Crib Goch, mate?”

He grinned, in an evil way.

“Oh yes indeed!”

That got the expected reaction from the two climbing newbies, and then Dal surprised me with one showing him on the second part of Flying buttress at Stanage, immediately after the high step up.

“Geoff, Mr Woodruff, he took that. They sent me a USB stick with a load of pics on. That’s trad climbing. I was leading, and what you do is slip some of those things hanging from my waist into cracks…”

I couldn’t see the blush, but it was clearly there, so I took over.

“Those are called ‘nuts’, and you jam them into cracks to stop falling off, or rather falling too far, which is why they are called ‘protection’. Being serious, it’s a bit like those Aussie bolts, but you have to look for somewhere to place them, and get the right size. And you might have to fiddle with them to get them to stick”

Maryam whispered something to Chad, and that time I could see the blush very clearly. He gasped, “Maz!”, and she grinned.

“Well, it’s true! Fiddling with nuts to make them sticky is important. To climbers. And other people who don’t want to get pulled off”

She started to laugh, and when I asked, “How many beers?”, she simply said “Safe place to let go, isn’t that right, Chad?”

He nodded his agreement, and immediately changed the subject.

“This weekend away sounds like a goer, but, well, I’m thinking about getting some of my own kit. Harness, for a start, and some rock shoes. Got any ideas?”

Dal had recovered from his blush by then.

“Simple, Chad. The place Dad and me go, they sell kit, and there’s a proper climbing shop near the Park. Want to meet us there one arvo?”

He turned to me with a shrug and a grin.

“Not just Dad trying to use local words, but me, well, I try and use them properly”

Chad was still curious for details.

“Do they just sell climbing wall stuff?”

Dal shook his head.

“No; proper outdoors shop, from gas canisters for stoves to family sized tents”

Maryam called out, “Do they do hot tubs?”, and we all found ourselves laughing together, because she was right. We were in a safe space, having fun, and if one or more of us were a little worse for alcoholic wear, what did it matter?

In the end, we sent an e-mail to the place with the cottages asking for more info, gathered up our debris and started to prepare for bed, Chad and Maryam settled in the living room. I took a few moments outside to finish my last bottle, trying to make sense of the stars I could see, when Kul appeared.

“Geeta’s settling the two guests down, mate, but she told me what she said to you, as well as what she didn’t, so here it is. Neither of us can be sure what’s going on in Maryam’s life, so be careful”

“Why me in particular?”

“It’s you she’s flirting with, mate!”

CHAPTER 41
I was up early. Still slightly out of synch with local times, and also a little sore in the forearms. The routes with Vern had been fine, apart from the need to fiddle about for ages with those lunatic Aussie bolts. I could imagine how that must push local climbing grades: if you can climb E4 while gibboning like an idiot to place pro, then the silly grades must be that much easier.

I took my laptop down to the kitchen, sneaking past the sleeping beauties and brewing a cuppa as I searched for details about those granite cliffs near ‘Maggie River’. I found a site called ‘The Crag’, which gave decent photo topos as well as rather abbreviated route descriptions, but, well, beggars and choosers. Kettle boiled, tea poured, bowl of cereal before me, and Maryam walked in.

“That kettle still hot, Mike?”

“Made a pot. Pass me a mug?”

She sorted mug and milk, I poured, and she sat down at the other end of the kitchen table.

“What are you looking at?”

“Research, really. Those routes on the coast near Margaret River”

She almost cuddled her tea to her chest.

“You really are into this climbing thing, aren’t you?”

Sod it. I closed the lid on my laptop so that I could give her the attention she deserved.

“It’s a lot of things, really. I think, I hope, you and Chad got some of them yesterday, the fun bit, but it’s more than that, it’s perspective. Look… where I prefer to climb, it’s a sort of silt stone. You get pebbles and that embedded in it, and sometimes, well, they are the only things to pull on, to stop you hitting the ground. There’s even a famous route called ‘Three Pebble Slab’. You’ve had a rubbish day---”

“You can say ‘shit’, Mike. I’m a big girl”

“Okay; you’ve had a shit day, and then your priorities are in focus, and they are the tiniest details in a bit of rock you almost have your nose on, and they aren’t whatever a bipolar twat of a manager has decided is his game for the day”

Or whatever a piece of burst tyre has… No. she was nodding, though, so I dug for a smile.

“I got pissed last night, didn’t I? Sorry”

I nodded.

“You did, but that isn’t a problem. Safe space here. I have a friend… Maryam, I have a couple of very good friends, her and her husband, yes? Before she met him, she was a drinker. Now, well, she likes a decent ale, but with a smile, with friends”

Maryam stared at me, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Why was she a drinker, Mike?”

Because the world, and her life, had shat all over her.

“She had serious personal issues, but Geoff, her husband, he’s a really decent man, and he loves her deeply. She was… I knew her before she met him, and they are both friends now, and she smiles at last. Maryam, I know why Steph drank, but let me say I don’t need to know if there’s any reason for last night. Mates, yes? Sometimes we go a bit beyond, but this is Kul’s place, not public, if you get me. Chatham House Rule”

“Sorry?”

“Oh, what happens Chez Butt stays Chez Butt”

She drew in a slow breath.

“What happened to you, Mike?”

I found myself looking down at my closed laptop.

“Please, Maryam. Not now. I will simply say I lost someone special to me, and leave it there, please. Some wounds… Anyway, this Maggie River thing?”

“Oh, not for a while, that. Chad has to work out who he is first. But, well, some background for me, and yes, that Maggie trip sounds cool, and not just for the tropicbirds. I just need to do some…”

She sat back, drawing yet another long breath before fixing me in the eye.

“Mike, my country is an odd one. We have a strange neighbour to the South, and a much bigger one almost wrapped round us. Singapore’s an odd place, libertarian and police state crossed. Indonesia, well…”

She sighed again, this time so deeply I almost expected her to faint.

“There is a province in Sumatra, Aceh, yes? We had a horrible disaster, the Boxing Day tsunami. I was on holiday then, in Pulau Pinang. It was… Lots of people died, including someone I…”

She took a long sip from her tea before continuing.

“Aceh, yes? One of the most strictly fundamentalist states, provinces, whatever, in Indonesia, and their interpretation of the slaughter was ‘Hey, we can’t be strict enough! Let’s crack down even harder on the women and queers! That’ll deter random natural disasters!”

She shook her head, then looked back up at me.

“Notice how it is never a question as to whether they are right, but simply an assumption that they haven’t been ‘right’ enough? That was… My parents were like that. Bad enough when I moved to Singapore, worse when we went to Pinang for a holiday, and then, well, they were just like Aceh: he wouldn’t have died if, well, you can guess the rest”

Another sip of her tea, then a smile.

“You going to start breakfast? With my hangover, scrambled eggs on toast would be a lifesaver”

I nodded, and started a pan heating, eggs broken into a jug. My mouth rattled on, however.

“And in Malaysia?”

“Morality police. No ban on eating pork, or having a DRINK drink, but police who come into places to check no Muslims are nibbling a pork chop or sipping a glass of pinot grigio. Mum and Dad were fine with that. Malays are automatically Muslim”

Once again, she looked up at me.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but last night I felt safe. That’s why I let myself go. We, Chad and Kul and me, we’ve had a few barbies, but, well. The climbing yesterday, it made a difference. Trust, yes?”

I found myself laughing, and her eyes screwed up a little, but I managed to gasp out a ‘Not at you!’ before I settled my mirth.

“Breathe, Rhodes… No, not laughing at you: just having one of those silly moments. We both said ‘safe’, and then you said’ trust, and my warped mind, oh dear. I t was what Chad said, about being a proper management consultant on one of those trust exercises, and there’s one where you just let yourself fall backwards and trust a team mate to catch you”

Suddenly, Maryam was laughing as well.

“And you thought ‘Sod that, Imma gonna drop them off a cliff, mwahahahaha!’ or some such!”

I nodded, reaching for some kitchen tissue to mop up the tea she had spilled when the mirth had seized her. We both sat for a few seconds in silence, apart from occasional snorts of half-stifled laughter.

“What’s so funny, you two?”

I turned to Chad as he stared accusingly at our steaming mugs.

“Neither of us is your mother, mate; grab a mug of you want some of this pot. As to what was so funny, it was something you said”

I quickly explained the ‘trust’ reference, and he was suddenly grinning with us.

“Yeah, exactly! Vern lowered me off a couple of climbs, and that was all about trust, bloody obviously. Only question is when we are doing it again”

He slid onto a stool, having grabbed the necessary mug, poured, and sipped.

“Needed that. Mouth like a wombat’s ringpiece… er, sorry, Maz. And Mike, no: I don’t know what one of those tastes like. Anyway, did you know their pouches face backwards so they don’t get full of dirt when they burrow?”

Distraction tactics, obviously. Let it ride for now, I decided, just as I realised Maryam’s moment of openness had ended.

“What are you two doing for the rest of the day? No idea what our hosts are up to, but I want to do some Skyping this evening”

Chad looked up, clearly grateful at the change of subject.

“These be people back home? Family?”

Maryam’s eyes locked on mine as I shook my head.

“No, no family. Got none of my own, really. Just some friends—oh, remember those photos we showed you? The two little girls? Their families. Thing is, with the time difference, needs to be this evening, their morning. Got a day to fill”

Chad was back in his noddy land, head bobbing ay every phrase.

“Got swimmers, mate?”

“Sorry?”

Swimming kit. Budgie smugglers or shorts and you’ll be right, I didn’t push the boat out last night, cause I’ve got the car, so I’ll be safe to drive. Ph, and it’s not Swanbourne”

“Eh?”

“That place has what they call a ‘clothing optional’ stretch”

“Ah. Like Studland, in Dorset. Top end of the beach has the same thing; you see people queuing for an ice cream in everything from nothing at all to full winter kit, all zips closed”

Maryam coughed for attention.

“Where do they keep the money, Mike? The naked ones?”

“After Chad’s comment about wombats, I really don’t want to think about it. Tou suggesting a day at the beach, Chad?”

“What could be more Aussie?”

“We’d need to---morning, Kul”

He filled the kettle again, before looking round the table.

“I heard someone mention scrambled eggs when I went to the loo. What else are you planning?”

Maryam answered for us.

“Mike says he wants to do a Skype call this evening, but we, Chad and me, we won’t presume. Plan is sort of evolving: we take Mike for a swim, then drop him back here before heading home”

Sangeeta followed Kul in, reaching for a feting pan as Dal arrived, and she was immediately in charge.

“Grab some eggs for me, love, and you can sort some toast out as I do the clever bit. Maryam, you’re both welcome to stay tonight and eat with us again. Just going to be some chicken, rice and dhal, but there’ll be plenty to go around. Ta, son. Can you bin the shells for me?”

Scrambled eggs for some, cereal for others; our breakfast was a simple one. Geeta was still musing.

“Beach trip? Nearest would be Mullaloo, and that’s an easy swim. There are reefs immediately in front of some of the beaches that make me a bit nervous—too easy to get picked up by a wave and thrown into some nasty sharp rock. Do you have a cossie with you, Maryam? Oh, and what do you normally wear for a swim?”

Another laugh from Maryam.

“Well, dunno about the boys, but this girl is not one for ‘clothing optional’. I normally wear a straightforward one piece, Not into either bikinis or hijabi-style trouser jobs”

“What size are you, love?”

“Oh, er… American twelve, which I think is… That’ll be UK fourteen. I think it’s sixteen in Aussie sizes”

“Ah. I’m a sixteen back home, so one of mine would work. Chad?”

“Oh, I keep my kit in the car. Place like this, finish work, nice to stop off for a splash now and again”

Geeta was nodding.

“I’ll dig out the cossie for Maryam when we’re all finished, and that’s a ‘No’, Dal. Clearing up to do this morning, and I know full well that you have college work to hand in on Monday”

I spent a few minutes in my room, wobbling over whether to take my own ‘budgie smuggler’ Speedo trunks, or the rather more modest swim shorts, before coming down on the side of the shorts. I was back down before the others, Geeta grinning at me as Dal worked outside to clear some of the debris.

“Enjoy yourself, love. Knowing you, you’ll have worked out my worry, and that is the effect on my puppy-love lad of seeing her in beachwear. Got some goggles spare if you want”

“In my bag, Geeta”

“Well, grab that eskie when you go, then. Cold drinks and some fruit for you all”

Three of us settled into Chad’s car, Maryam sitting behind me so that he could get enough leg room, and we made our way through suburbs to a well-maintained car park with signs that informed us that neither dogs nor kitesurfers were welcome. The ‘no dogs’ sign made me chuckle, for it was a clone of the one that Emlyn Williams had set up at Little Willie’s, just in case a visitor spoke neither English nor Welsh. A path led out through some shrubby dunes to a beach pf sand even whiter than that at Studland. I simply stood for a minute taking in the view, the sea calm and blue as the sun gained in power. Chad clapped me on the shoulder after setting down his bundle of towels and a reed mat.

“Got your swimmers on ready, mate? No need for a clothing-optional towel dance?”

“I’ve got them on, but I’m going to keep the T=shirt on as well, just till I get a bit more of a tan”

“Good call, mate. Maz? You need a screen?”

As an answer, she simply pulled off her dress to reveal her borrowed costume, and I understood immediately where Dal was coming from in his crush. I would say ‘I didn’t know where to look, but that would be a lie, because my mind knew exactly where.

CHAPTER 42
She wasn’t a clone of Carolyn, her hips being a little broader, and her legs not as lean, but in many ways it was a rerun of that pool table moment. Bugger. I sorted my goggles and headed straight for the water.

It wasn’t anywhere near bath temperature, but it was welcoming enough. I pulled down my goggles, and started an appropriate Australian crawl away from the beach. It felt like the best hangover cure imaginable.

Chad, naturally, had a snorkel and mask, which I envied, but the water was so delightful, the company a gift, that I couldn’t hold that against him, simply adding ‘snorkel, mask, fins’ to my notional Aussie shopping list: the one from which I had recently crossed off ‘Aussie hat’. That was waiting on the beach, of course. I popped up for air to find Maryam in front of me.

“I love this, Mike! How could anyone want to live anywhere else?”

“Not going to argue, Maz. Done some swimming back home where I thought my bloody heart would stop, the water was that cold. This is, well, this is wonderful. Want to borrow the goggles?”

“Please! Promise I won’t hog them”

I handed them over, and I was treated to a nice view of a rather exceptional arse as she craned her neck to see whatever there was beneath her. What the hell was up with me?

She soon surfaced, panting for breath, and I gave her a smile. She started laughing, waving towards Chad, steadily ploughing the water, snorkel tip fluorescent yellow.

“Got to go shopping, yet again, that bastard! There’s stuff on the sea bed, fish, so much, and then I run out of air”

Another happy grin.

“I look down again, and whatever it was has gone. Makes me even more determined to tick my dream box”

Her thoughts were so nearly identical to my own. I continued treading water, avoiding speaking for the moment, but doing the eyebrow thing. She understood.

“A dream, Mike. You know when you see something on TV, and it gets really familiar, and you just want to BE there, just once in your life? I have a list of them”

“Bucket list?”

“Not at all, Mister Rhodes. I want to be able to go back and enjoy them again”

“Got my own. What do you have on your list?”

“Oh, Eiffel tower, Venice, Barrier Reef, just for starters. Sydney and its bridge look like being the easiest, if we get that contract. Trouble is, and this is me being stupid, I think Kul should have first bite at that, with Geeta. Family, yeah? And he started the office, so he should get first bite”

That comment hit home, because a memory had ambushed me. I nailed my smile in place, and tried to change the subject.

“So: this Vern, then?”

She giggled, really giggled, hand to her mouth.

“Oh, he was most definitely homed in on Chad! Trouble is, I don’t know how Chad really swings. I, well, I don’t think he was actually that anti”

She was suddenly very serious.

“Chad was talking about going down to the place Kul and his boy use, the Adrenaline Vault? That’s where Vern hangs out when he’s not at Statham’s. I think we hang back and don’t push him. What’s that English idiom, about dogs and rabbits?”

“Let the dog see the rabbit?”

“That’s the one. Vern obviously likes his rabbits on the skinny side”

A vague wave at my shoulders as we bobbed in the water.

“You’re obviously safe from him”

In one fluid movement, she turned on the spot and dove for the bottom. I turned towards the shore and started swimming slowly, feet dangling, until the bottom rose to meet them. Maryam appeared once more, and swam my way, something in her hand.

“I think this is an abalone. Or rather, was one”

“Know nothing about shells and sea life, I’m afraid, apart from what I like to eat”

My mouth moved before I could stop it.

“Birds, yes. Got a decent grounding from Carolyn”

“Your partner?”

Can of worms opened.

“She was my wife. There was an accident”

Her eyes dropped to my chest.

“Oh. I am so sorry, Mike. I…”

Suddenly, her face crumpled, as the arm holding the shell waved at herself.

“Oh hell, Mike. I say I am sorry, but what I mean is, well, same boat. These people tonight, the one’s with the girls: they were mutual friends?”

“Two of them, yes. Carolyn… Look, just now, well, she would have loved this place, and, I mean, ‘not now’. Save it for a better moment?”

She put her free hand to my shoulder.

“And make it a two way thing? I think we both need that. Mike… No, woman. Later. What are we doing for lunch?”

“That bag of stuff from Geeta? Hangover easing, then?”

A hint of a blush.

“Sorry about that. It was…”

She stopped for some slow breathing, then tilted her head, her own wry smile emerging.

“Not normal to be so tongue-tied, but it would have been Alan’s birthday next week. I’m a bit out of sorts, so I let myself go, and, well, who better than you to understand where I’m coming from? Sorry: I said we’d leave it for now, and here I am”

I shrugged.

“Well, yes, and I understand both bits. Sod it: shall we go and violently assault Chad. Now, I was hearing this story, about a swimming spot in the Ogwen Valley, which is where tonight’s Skype friends live. Lake, waterfalls go under the road, and the river then winds down a lower valley. Road stays high, and it’s got a stone wall beside it, so when some people I might be familiar with had been climbing on a very hot day got there, they didn’t bother with ‘swimmers’, as Chad called them”

Her eyes went wide.

“Skinny dipping? How wonderful!”

“Yup. Until a couple of tourist buses went past, double-decker ones, and the flashes started going off on the top decks”

Maz laughed, a much happier sound.

“Flashing the flashers! Lovely! And of course, none of them were you, were they?”

“My lips are sealed. Let’s get that rabbit”

Her chosen method of attack was inspired. As Chad finned forward, ever so slowly, Maz simply swam under him from behind, looking up, and he jerked up out of the water, the snorkel dropping from his mouth.

“Christ, mate! Bit of warning next time be good!”

She shook her head, water flying from her hair.

“Where’s the fun in that? Anyway, found a shell, and Mike here’s useless unless it comes with tartare sauce, he says. What do you say?”

He trod water next to us as he examined the thing.

“See the row of holes? Abalone. And that’s been someone’s dinner. Big industry in Tassie, they are. There’s limits on what you can take in this state, I think. Shell’s are cool, though, all shiny inside”

I found myself remembering Python, of course, and squawked out “How d’ya cook it?”

Chad pushed his mask up to his forehead.

“Mr Rhodes, it is neither a gas turbine engine nor a stormy petrel on a stick, and I doubt it tastes of bleeding seabird flavour”

Maryam started singing softly.

“Spam, spam, spam, spam…” and things proceeded to get progressively sillier and sillier, and ‘that’ conversation was most definitely on hold. We worked our way through Geeta’s fresh fruit and other snacks, along with draughts of the large bottle of LLB she had included, before some more dips in the wonderful water.

‘Alan’.

Chad was musing on the way back to Chez Butt, on two main subjects.

“Definitely going to tag up Kul and Dal about that Vault place. We could do a sort of team night thing again. Going to look up restaurants round there, and you can try abalone for real rather than just an empty shell”

He started laughing.

“Bloody big country this, a continent! And almost all of us live round the edge, so it’s seafood everywhere. I bet there’s even a bloody sushi place or oyster bar in Alice!”

Maz tapped me on my shoulder again.

“You up for that, Mike? Lots of young men in tight shorts to ogle, followed nu a nibble on some clams?”

Chad roared out that she was getting worse, so of course I had to tell them the story of Penny’s adoration of men in tight shorts, or rather one particular man, and while I kept up the happy banter, I was having an inner dialogue of my own, and it was a hard one.

Geeta had been absolutely right about Maryam’s flirting, and our day at the beach had seen her spending most of it by my side, which was certainly not an unpleasant experience. She was certainly attractive, and more to the point she was alive in so many ways, and that was the word that caused my internal debate, because Carolyn wasn’t.

Was I being unfaithful, sinning in my thoughts as that book put it, or was it a stupid thing to consider in the first place? I watched Maz from behind, and I saw Carolyn’s backside as she bent over a pool table; I saw her dimples as she smiled, and there was my wife again.

“You’re an arrogant tosser”, said that inner voice; “Just because a woman flirts with you it doesn’t mean she fancies you”

Fair point, fairly made, but once again I was seeing that bloody lizard, waiting by the side of the road. I had moved from That Place to Sheffield, and then again to the other side of the world, to avoid that, and here I was crawling back to the same position.

I told the other voices to piss off, and decided I would wait and see. The day at the beach had been full of life, even with the shadows we both carried, so dig once more for the smiles.

Geeta had been busy, as she always seemed to be, and Kul looked slightly embarrassed.

“Hi, you three, bonzer, ripper, et cetera, can I ask you two what you have to do at your flat? Anything urgent? Triffid to feed? Latest body to dismember still in the bath? Just, well, we’re all due in at the same time tomorrow, so we sort of left the bedding still in place. And I did another run to the bottle shop, just a few drinks, no debauch…”

I looked at my companions, who each shrugged and nodded, as Chad snorted.

“If I’d known, I’d have had a few more on Saturday, and got the bus down to the beach with these two. Yeah, I’m in, if Maz is happy wearing the same stuff to work on Monday”

She nodded.

“Office day for me, so I don’t need anything smart, and before you ask, I always carry a couple of spare pairs. What has that boy done?”

She pointed to a laptop that was connected to the Butts’ rather large flat screen telly, and Kul bristled as best he could manage.

“Screen’s set to play through the telly, and there’s a webcam on top, so we can all see each other in comfort. Why do you think it was the boy”

“Because I know how useless you are with computers, Kul. How much time do we have?”

Geeta appeared from the kitchen.

“Call start in half an hour. Dinner whenever we finish; it’s all cooked, so I just need to nuke it to add heat, and finish a couple of things in the oven. Who needs a shower? Get the salt off? Oh, Maz: cossie work okay?”

That little voice was back, and the words it chose about the fit of the costume were very direct. Maz was laughing, though.

“After some random man walked past, staring at my bum while pretending not to, and doing it so badly his wife slapped his arm, I tried to stay in the water. Oh: brought you this. Chad says it’s an abalone”

She brought the shell out of her beach bag, light rippling from the mother-of-peart on its inner side, and Geeta sighed.

“That is gorgeous!”

“Ah, take it. Wouldn’t really go with stuff in my little rabbit hutch”

She handed it to Geeta, who put it on a pile of place mats on the sideboard, as Maz’s eyes flicked to mine, then away.

We showered sequentially and settled ourselves in the rearranged living room furniture as Dal (Maz had been absolutely correct) got things rolling, and after some back and forth from chair to laptop, the screen cleared to show a familiar Welsh living room, packed with people. Yells of welcome competed with each other, and I waved my arms to shut everyone up.

“Like bloody schoolkids! Now, I’ll make the introductions, because I know who everyone is. Just raise a hand when I say your name. You lot, you know these three. The two extras are our colleagues. Chad… Maryam… Now, for those two, I will work through the Welsh lot. Vic and Nansi Edwards… their daughter Alys… Keith and Panny Hiatt… their daughter Enfys… Neil Strachan, who is a nutter… And Steph and Geoff Woodruff, yes I know. Steph is also a nutter, but in a different way”

Geoff shouted that while his wife might be a nutter, she was HIS nutter, etc, and yet again, Maz had a hand up asking to speak. I waved at her to go for it.

“Nutters? You mean ‘mad’? In what way?”

Keith led on that one.

“Steph is a musician, a fiddle player. When she gets carried away, she gets a bit, well, lively. Neil’s a cave diver”

My two newest friends each muttered something along the lines of ‘for a game of soldiers’, and Enfys was saying something loudly to her mother. Penny shushed her gently.

“Cariad, they only speak English, remember? Ask Uncle Mike what you want, but in English”

Enfys took Alys’ hand with a grin.

“Alys is coming to big school with me! When are you coming back to Fethesda?”

Penny murmured, “Heb treiglad meddal, Cariad, does dim angen”, while I waved at the people around me.

“I’m a long, long way away now, girls. Got a new job here, and even…”

I paused for effect.

“What do you think we did this weekend, girls?”

Alys was shouting “Swimming!”, Enfys “Climbing!”, while once more it was Maryam with the words.

“You’re both right! Uncle Mike took us all climbing yesterday, and we have just got back from the beach, where I found---can you grab that for me, Dal? Thanks. I found this shell, on the seabed”

Lots of oohs and aahs as she turned the shell so that the light flashed from it, and it was Alys who had the next question, which was a confusing one about submarines and Captain Nemo. Chad then talked about parrots, and when he mentioned he was from Tasmania, both children were off on a wave of cartoon-linked excitement. When they wound down eventually, we settled into more sedate conversation, which ended in a discussion of meal plans. Geeta covered that one with a few choice comments about kitchen drudges, and then Steph was onto the climbing, as I had guessed she would be. I gave her the condensed version.

“Quarry, repurposed. Dolerite, like the Whin Sill stuff, so not like grit, nor as slippery as slate. Some proper climbs, but most are sports stuff”

She winced.

“Not with Aussie bolts?”

“Some of them, yes. You know about them?

“Oh god yes. And you call me and Neil here nutters”

“Yes you both are, but it’s like I said, in different ways. Anyway, some indoor centres here, with air con. Dal and Kul have been going there, and Maz and Chad fancy tagging along as well”

No hand up this time, Maz cut straight in.

“Mike has promised me lots of fit young men in tight shorts!”

Penny was doing her best to stifle her laughter as Keith glared at her, and the evening carried on like that until we called it a whatever-part-of-the-day it was where we were.

Our dinner followed, together with a rather more sedate session of liquid refreshment, taken outside on the patio as seemed to be the norm for us, and eventually we settled into our rooms or corners for the night. My mind kept coming back to a comment from Maryam, and that little flick of her eyes to mine as she spoke.

‘Let the dog see the rabbit’, and then she called her place a ‘rabbit hutch’. Was I reading too much into a couple of words? Sod it. Work tomorrow.

I checked my mail before turning the light off, and there was one from Penny.

‘Really good to see you all again, love. Girls are still talking. Forgive Alys and her prattle, but she’s getting really into reading, particularly SF. Weird, those two: they have to be reminded to slip out of Welsh, and she’s devouring Kules Verne and HG Wells in English. We envy them their ability, me and Keith.

Can you snail mail us some postcards, for the kids? Something with parrots and kangaroos would be great, and obviously sending us some pics electronically would be super. Keith and me would like to see what the local crag is like as well.

Oh, and that girl who had her eyes on you all the time? She’s lovely, and she came across as a sound one. I know you, my love, me and Keith both do. You know how we moved things on, and I really think this could be the time for you to let go’

CHAPTER 43
I didn’t sleep that well that night, and probably came across as a little grumpy over breakfast. Chad and Maryam were off quickly, Kul and I following a little later. The drive into work was a bit tense at first, as Kul clearly picked up on my mood.

“I never met her, Mike. Wish I could have”

“Sorry?”

“Me being silly. If I had been given the chance to meet her, you would never have ended up in Sheffield, so we’d never have met, us two that is, and well, yeah. You’re thinking betrayal, aren’t you?”

I stayed silent, and he reached across to squeeze my hand.

“You’re a bloody good bloke, Mister Rhodes. Made a huge difference in our lives, me, the boy and SWMBO, almost as much as moving out here has done. Boy’s really opened up, and yes, I know he told you about the mock turtle, I mean turban. This weekend was all your doing. Can I ask a really personal question?”

“You are being pretty personal already, Kul”

“Good. I’d hate to slip out of character. What was it that caught your eye yesterday? Her smile or her bum?”

Carolyn bending over that pool table… my mouth was playing traitor once again.

“Dimples, mate. When she smiles”

He flicked me a glance before returning his gaze to the road, where traffic was building as we approached the ‘CBD’. My mouth was still running its own game, though.

“But yes, she does have a very nice bum”

“At last! Normal bloody service is resumed, at least in terms of your eyesight. Geeta’s been watching you, mate, and I don’t just mean since you flew in. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know?”

“Why?”

“Oh, the boy, to start with. He was always a little backward in coming forward, if you take my point. Family shit, yeah? Since you got him on the rock, well, new man in so many ways. You know that his haircut was all his own idea, and when I asked him why, it had sod all to do with fitting in. he just said ’It’s too hot for faff’, and that was it”

“You not going to follow suit?”

“Oh, it’s like that bit in Blackadder: like the beard, gives me something to PULL on, or that’s what Geeta says. I just hope that she never has a canoe in her trousers, but I digress”

So typical of the man, opening up my soul and then leaving me laughing, and I could see why his wife loved him and his son almost worshipped his shadow. I drew in a calming breath, or at least one I hoped might help.

“My wife had a very nice bottom, and dimples when she smiled, and so, well, you have it right. Yes, I find Maryam very attractive. Yes, it feels like adultery. I can’t help that, Kul. Wish I could”

“Well, I know a few things about her background. Not going to betray confidences, mate”

I smiled to myself. It was getting steadily easier to talk.

“Keith and Pen said that Caro and me were peas in a pod. Caro could never see what others saw in her; self-esteem issues, yeah? She just knew she wanted me, and well, that got mutual bloody quickly. Took a while for both of us to settle, to understand that we valued each other even if we didn’t value ourselves. That let us see, bloody long time later… If this person I adore sees something in me, maybe there is really something there to be seen?”

“Yeah, mate. I see the same in Steph, yeah? Her bloke looks at her, and he is smitten, and I can tell she still pinches herself every so often, ‘Is this real?’ thingy. Going to have to work on you, I see. Oh, and that Neil bloke? He spent most of the session staring at Alys. What’s that all about?”

I shook my head.

“Wrong track, mate. He knows about her, and he is absolutely on her side. Not that way, yeah? Not going to break my own confidences, but he is sound. Anyway, you’ve done the shrink business: what’s today’s plan?”

“Ah, two sushi bars, so bugger-all in the waste oils side of things. We just need to find a way to persuade each or them that we have the key to out-compete the other one. Then we have a windsurfing school and three more chippies”

“Going to end up like a blimp, mate”

“But a sleek, toned blimp of taste and perfect deltoids. Oh, and got a sneaky one for later in the week. We have a chain, franchise thing, on our books. Chad reminded me with his comments about seafood places in the middle of the desert. This place is like the Logis de France thing”

“Lost there, mate”

“Hotel group in France. All separate places, but to get the badge they have to offer a specifically local menu as well as the main one”

“How the hell do they do that somewhere in the middle of the desert?”

“Buggered if I know. Salt and pepper locust?”

“Locusts aren’t seafood”

“Lots of legs and wavy antenna bits, and anyway, locusts and lobsters are both arthropods. QED. More to the point, when you’re blitzed out of your brain on canned Jack Daniel’s and coke—drink of choice for the discerning miner--- do you actually give a shit?”

Typically, he couldn’t leave it there.

“Course, if you’re living on canned booze and deep fried crispy cockroach, you’ll probably be giving loads of shits”

“Kul?”

“Yeah?”

“We are visiting food places today”

“Yeah, well, you said you’d get fat, so I thought I’d help with the diet. Free service!”

We pulled up at the reserved spot, and I noticed Maryam’s car was missing, and guessed that she had stuck to her plan for an office day. Ronnie was chipper to the extreme, grinning at us as we walked in.

“Hiya, you two! Didn’t break either of them, then? I’m going out on a coffee run in a few; want anything? Latte? Americano? Ibuprofen? Two days’ debauch, oh my!”

Kul pretended to consider her offer.

“Um… I’ll have a white Americano and a side order of a new liver, love”

“How’d you put it, mate? Oh yeah: ripper! Maz and Chad left their orders with me, so I’m offski”

I dug for my wallet.

“Need some cash?”

She shook her head.

“Nah. I’ll just embezzle it from petty cash, like I do for my rent. See you in a few. Phones are on divert to Maz till I’m back”

I turned, my mood lifting with the omnipresent daftness, and headed for the back office, where the other two were tapping away at their terminals. Each looked up at our arrival, and while Chad gave a grin towards both of us, Maryam’s smile seemed to be aimed entirely at me. I didn’t get that much time to appreciate it, because once Ronnie had returned, leaving Kul without his requested liver, and the drinks were gone, Kul and I were on the road once more, First at the seafood place, and then down to the South of Perth.

Everything was as I was coming to expect, almost mundane, and then we arrived at the windsurfing place, which was set at the edge of the great sort-of-lake that defined central Perth. The owners were two utterly grizzled sets of dreadlocks, Matt and Rhona, and Kul did the ‘state of your business’ chat. The two old hippies were sanguine, and, given their appearance, amazingly lucid as they tag-teamed smoothly.

“Well, boys, we got a range of stuff, from standing paddle board though old school sail—windsurf-- boards to kites”

I immediately thought of that sign at the beach: no dogs, no kitesurfers, and asked the obvious question.

“Where do you do this?”

Rhona waved out of the window.

“Paddle boarding right here. Water stays reasonably placid. Windsurfing is out from Freo, kites too. Trouble is, not much in the way of breaks round here”

I must have looked too obviously puzzled, because Matt felt the need to explain.

“Reefs, mate. Round here’s all limestone, and that crumbles after getting slicy. Granite’s better. Somewhere to make the water jump, ey? Let the guys get some decent air time? Predictable waves, not too gnarly, like a half-pipe in a skate park--- oh, bollocks. Bloody poms!”

He was smiling as he said it, so I grinned back.

“I don’t do wet stuff, Matt. I’m a climber”

His eyes widened.

“Fuck that for a game of soldiers, mate! You get bloody HURT if you fall off, not just wet!”

I shrugged.

“Each to their own, Matt. Where are these breaks?”

“Ah, Maggie River’s good, and there’s some good ones up North. Problem’s accommodation. Hotels are a bit uncool, youth hostels a bit thin. Lot of the hardcore surfers use campers, ey?”

I caught Kul looking at me, and immediately understood. I left him to the sale. So much of what we were doing seemed to be a networking session, with so many obvious risks. He led off.

“Be a bit friendly in a camper van, wouldn’t it? How big’s a group?”

Rhona shrugged.

“Ah, it’s all about arse watching and watching for idiots and arseholes. Some punters think they know it all, some need cosseting, and some need kicking out. Each of us can manage about ten on the paddle boards, as long as the water stays flat. For the sails and kites, we do offer a one-to-one, but that cuts our potential earnings, bloody obviously, so prices are uplifted. Normally, I’d not want more than four to a group looking at air time”

Kul nodded.

“So would you be looking at a single camper van, or tents?”

She nodded at her partner, who took over.

“Ideal, mate? A camper that could carry six in driving mode, with a trailer hitch. We’ve got our own trailers for the gear. Wouldn’t need berths for more than the two of us, but a decent kitchen unit and fridge. Most campsites’ve got their own gas or leccy barbies, so it’s breakfasts to sort, as well as a cuppa down at the beach”

He grinned once more.

“Me and Ro, we know campers. Got our own, but it’s tiny. Enough room for the bed, little kitchen, and an Elsan dunny. Be a bit cosy with six, ey?”

Kul made some more notes, then smiled yet again.

“We may be able to put you in contact with someone who could supply what you need, Matt. If you want to leave it with us?”

“That would be ripper, mate”

We finished off with the usual look through their books and accounting system, which was surprisingly good, and then set off for the first of our afternoon chippies. I made a show of admonishing Kul as he drove.

“No shame, have you?”

“Sod it, mate: if we’re going nepotistic with cousins in Sydney, why not with our customers. You want to ring Rod, or shall I?”

“Best if you do; things will be straighter in your head. Oh: that must be the first time I have heard ‘ripper’ come from anyone but you”

“Bollocks. Ronnie said it this morning”

“Yeah, but she was taking the piss out of you, so it doesn’t count”

“Ah, she’ll be right, cobber”

“I give up!”

Three chippies, and one bag of chips and a “Oh, if you insist” meat pie each later, we were heading back to the office. Once in, after Ronnie’s call of “I can smell those bloody chips, boys”, we were at a conference phone. As agreed, Kul took the lead.

“Hi Rod. It’s Kul from Talbot and Swan. Got you on speaker, if that’s okay”

Rod’s voice was tinny, but clear.

“Hiya, Kul. That’s fine. What can I do for you?”

Kul ran through the specs for the proposed camper, and Rod grunted.

“Interesting tweak… Right, typical lay out for a budgie type camper is two benches in the back, facing each other, that break down to form a double bed… if I… Sorry. Thinking out loud. What I could do is set up two benches that breakdown, both facing forward. Might need to tweak the kitchen space for that… Got some spare seat clips… I would need to see what their trailer is like, weight wise, but yeah, I think she’ll be right”

“Would you like to speak to the customer?”

“If I can, would be good”

“Hang on a few, then”

He pulled out a business card and grabbed another phone.

“Hi Rhona? Kul, from Talbot and Swan. You free for a conference call with a contact of ours? Yeah? Well, dial this number…”

He rattled off the conference call access numbers, and after a few seconds there was the usual announcement that “Rhona [change of voice] has joined the call”

“Hiya Kul, and I guess Mike as well”

“Yup, he’s here beside me, plus a couple of colleagues who might have a fresh take on this. Matt not there?”

“Out on the water with some real beginners, mate. What you got for us?”

“What I’ve got is Rod, who’s here on the call with us. Tod does campers”

“You beauty, mate! Hiya, Rod. Kul given you what we need?”

Rod came back louder.

“Sorry, just taken the phone into a back room. Yeah, he has Camper for two, but that can run as a small people carrier for about six? And pull a trailer?”

“Yes, that’s dead right. Sound like a goer?”

“Already got ideas, er, Rhona. Layout I could fit would actually carry six in the back, sleep two. What I need is a look at your trailer, see what weights we’re talking about”

“You’re welcome to come down any time we’re free. Only worries are if we’re off to Freo. This week, that leaves us Wednesday. Got groups on the other days. You?”

“Yeah, Wednesday’s good for me. Kul?”

That man was wincing as he looked at his diary.

“Not me, I’m afraid. Booked up solid. Hang on a sec… Chad, Maz? What do you have on for Wednesday?”

Chad was already shaking her head, but Maryam had a thumb up.

“I’ve got the afternoon free from two o’clock”

Rhona spoke up again.

“After two would be perfect. Gets a bit hot after that, even on the water, round here. You free as well, Mike?”

Kul was nodding at me, so I said “Yes, I am”, and Rod replied.

“Simple, then. I have a van of the right size I can bring down for a look at, and maybe a try-out with your trailer, and I’ll also start looking at options I might get from factory spec. Where do I head for?”

Kyl handled the rest of the details before cutting the call, and looked around at the rest of us.

“Ripper, bonzer, she’ll be right, cobbers. That was such an obvious bit of match-making, but I do believe we might get more out of this”

Chad was laughing happily.

“Don’t tell us, Kul: you’re thinking of asking for a percentage of each sale?”

“No, mate. But whenever some business club get together, or some denizens of Crustydreads Hollow, it’ll be us they’re chatting about. Now, anyone got a camping supplies shop on their list? And Mike: you okay going out there with Maz in a couple of days? I can drop you off here early doors”

I had no alternative, so just nodded, before turning to Maryam.

“That suit you?”

“Absolutely. I have a pizzeria for Wednesday, and a sort of greasy spoon place before that. We’ve already got them on the waste oil account. You like pizza?”

“I do”

“We can do lunch there, then”

CHAPTER 44
Two days later, and I was in the office early, Kul as insufferable as ever.

“Got your lunchbox? Clean hanky? Done your homework, son?”

“Oh bugger off!”

“Yeah, well. Give us a shout when you’re done. Might be simpler if Maz drops you back here afterwards. Let us know, okay? Here she is”

I turned my head, and she was just coming in the door, looking very different to my experience of her thus far. For a start, she was in a suit, so sharply styled she could have given the air paper cuts. Kul called out a hearty good morning, followed by his final instructions, clearly for her benefit.

“Told this one, if you don’t mind, that it’s easiest if you drop him off at ours. Want a bite with us?”

She nodded.

“If that isn’t a problem. We could pick up a take away if that suits?”

“I’ll run that past SWMBO, see what she thinks, and let you know. SMS be fine?”

He turned to me.

“Little real Aussie there, mate. Their term for ‘text’. Like EFTPOS. You’ll get there, she’ll be right, et cetera. Don’t damage him, Maz: no folding, spindling or mutilating”

He made a point of turning away and heading for the coffee corner, and Maryam snorted, just a little.

“We off, then?”

She was a much slower driver than I was used to, but steady with it; not timid, just in no way pushy or reckless.

“You had breakfast, Mike?”

“Bowl of cornflakes, and a couple of slices of toast. Why?”

“First place do a roaring breakfast trade, and they do a very, very nice sausage sandwich. Handmade stuff, not from a factory or a freezer”

I thought for a few seconds before asking what seemed like an obvious question.

“Maryam?”

“Yes?”

“If this is too personal… Look. I am assuming here, your name and that, but, well: pork?”

“And you’ll be thinking ‘alcohol’ as well, no doubt. How I was brought up, how I live now, well, I… Look: can we save this till lunch, or after the boarding place? Not just now. Bit heavy”

“Sorry, Maz. I really didn’t want to intrude”

“Not that, Mike. We need a bit of air-clearing, but I think one big info-dump might just spoil our professionalism for Mr Greasy Spoon. Later, if we’re still in the mood?”

I nodded, knowing she could see me out of the corner of her eye. “Later be fine”

She surprised me when we had parked up near the first business, called ‘Soapy Joe’s’, by changing into a pair of heels.

“Don’t wear these that often, but it’s odd how something like silly shoes is somehow translated as ‘serious professional’. Background here is that the owner was a cook out in the goldfields, and his customer base was just a little bit lumpen in the taste buds area. Got a payout for an accident, took the money and ran. Got the skills for doing a lot more than a greasy fry-up, but he still sells that to those who prefer it, just with better ingredients. Lot of the letter-box-lens people come in for something pretentious-but-not-pretentious”

“Letter box what?”

“Trendy posers, Mike. Ones with the rectangular glasses who talk about which side of the dunny a coffee bean was grown, and strains of sourdough”

“Oh god…”

“Yup. Expect ockers mixed with yuppies, with a sprinkling of students. Follow my lead…”

She all but strutted into the café, briefcase held just so, and as we entered I saw heads turn, and could just about read the reactions from each group, ranging from an obvious “Oh yeah!” from the workers and students (the male ones, at least) to a contrived posture of dismissal from the ‘letter box lenses’, and yes, all too many of them were wearing them, several with stupidly thick white frames. She had the customer base down to the smallest detail, and I was impressed. To me, a café was a café, and my interest, at least my professional one, was behind the counter.

“Morning, Mister Soper. You ready for us?”

The owner, a solid man with a patch over one eye, grinned happily.

“Yet again you brighten the day, Maryam! New suit? And who’s this?”

“Des, you ask that question every time I stop by, and you know full well I’ve had this for ages. This is Mike Rhodes, from our UK branch. He’s joining us out here to see how we do things down under”

“Welcome, Mike! You had breakfast?”

Maz answered for me.

“I filled him in before we opened the door, Des. What do you have?”

“Oh, usual stuff. Got an experimental one, though. Bloke down near Walpole does venison, got a herd just east of town. I do them with some battered peppercorns, sage and a bit of rusk. Still got some of the Old Spot ones, if you’d prefer something more traditional, otherwise it’s just the basic ones from that farm down by Northcliffe”

I offered my own comment, just to feel included.

“Des, is it? No offence, but it sounds like nothing you offer here is basic”

“Ah, Mike, there’s basic and there’s basic. Nothing wrong with a good old fry up, but decent ingredients help. And ‘decent’ doesn’t have to mean raised in luxury, with regular massages, like that Japanese beef stuff. Just get the right stock, give it the right fodder, and she’ll be right. What you fancy, Maryam?”

She pointed at the menu board.

“Could I try those venison ones? You have me curious. Mike will have the Old Spot”

I was about to comment, but she hadn’t finished.

“See, I might not like the venison ones, but I do know I love the Old Spot, so if I don’t like Bambi, we’ll swap plates”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter.

“Cheeky woman!”

A flashing smile in return.

“Know your place, Sonny Jim! No: seriously, half and half each, so we can both have a taste. Tea, Mike?”

“Please”

“Then that’s a latte, a tea, and mix the sandwiches up for us. Got a table?”

“That one in the corner, away from the drafts. Get down to the crunchy stuff after you’ve eaten, ey?”

“Absolutely, Des”

“Not fancy a fuller plate?”

“Ah, got another food place after this one; got to watch my weight”

One of the ‘Ockers’ called across a comment about him doing the watching, which brought some laughter, But Maryam simply flashed another smile at the room, and we were seated.

The sausages were indeed something special, the pork being superb; the venison ones reminded me of something else, and it was some time before my memory cleared. I swallowed a rather nice mouthful before offering my pearls to Maz.

“It reminds me a bit of merguez. French sausage, usually spicy lamb. Think it’s from Algeria or Morocco originally”

“You like it?”

“I do. This place is a keeper—do people fight for who gets to visit?”

“Yup. On the beach, armed with nothing more than a set of barbecue tongs”

“You are perverse”

“I have a reputation to maintain, Mike”

I had no answer to that one, so I just ducked my head, smiled and left it alone. The sausages were as good as advertised, and the books left us with a simpler challenge: what on Earth could we offer in suggested improvements? We did our best, and there were a few areas Maz had spotted, but in the end I felt that this might be one we would be losing as a customer. We had done our job, but I suspected that some of us might reverse the customer role.

The sausages were indeed that good.

The pizzeria was nowhere near as well run, so we did our own tag team game in offering suggestions, until we were finally at lunch time. The owner gave us the use of an outside table, and in quick order delivered Maryam’s seafood special and my ‘Volcanic Swan’. She laughed out loud at my choice.

“This machismo thing with men, who can eat the hottest meal and all that? Is that why you climb?”

I ignored the slight, and tried to give a sensible answer, about perspective and so on, but she cut me short.

“Kul told me a lot about you, Mike. Dal too”

“Dal?”

She shrugged, then looked at me directly.

“Of course I know he has a crush on me. He’s still a nice boy, but…”

She adopted a sterner expression that was somewhat shy of utter sincerity.

“He is indeed a nice boy, but that’s it: a boy. I suspect he isn’t a lad who is exactly comfortable in talking to girls around his own age, and so… No. What they told me about you is where I was going. Quick summary: lived in a place Kul won’t name, but he dropped enough hints for me to identify it, and I looked it up, oh dear me. Smart move. It was Dal who dropped the info I will assume he wasn’t meant to. What… Sorry. Mike?”

“Yes?”

“If you don’t want to talk about Carolyn, I will understand, but I suspect we have some pretty common ground to tread, and, well, I feel I need to explain my life”

I finished my mouthful of hot-and-spicy and drew a slow breath.

“Pretty simple story, but rather complex--- issues? Issues. There was a road accident. We were on a bike, a motorbike. Nobody’s fault. I… have a look2

I undid a few shirt buttons so that she could see the scar on my chest, and she winced. I shrugged.

“Fractured sternum. Caro’s break was… Sorry”

I dabbed my eyes with the paper napkin, careful to avoid any traces of hot sauce. A couple more deep breaths.

“She’s buried in That Place, and that’s the complication, or one of them. She’s, I… It feels so much like I’ve abandoned her. When I moved to Sheffield, I made sure I popped back every few weeks, couple of months. We had friends there, climbing and folk clubs, and they still look after her for me. Coming over here, that’s out of the question. It was…”

I looked up from the remnants of my pizza to find her staring at me, head slightly cocked, her own eyes a little damp.

“It was something I saw from Australia, oddly. Blue-tongued skinks”

“Stumpies?”

“That’s them. Mate for life, they do, and it was that image of the survivor waiting next to its roadkill mate until it ends up the same way. Kul said a few things, and so did Keith and Pen. You remember them from the Skype session?”

“I do”

“Well, Keith used to work with me, or rather me with him, because I left first. Keith stayed on, until his wife left him”

“He was married before Penny?”

“Nope. She simply went somewhere nicer, found a home and a job, and gave him the choice. Said he was becoming someone else working there. We were all in the same climbing and folk clubs. Funny story; another time, yeah? Anyway, that is really why I am here. All sorts of folk pushing me, from Pen to Kul, to get off the road before I end up as roadkill too”

I found myself smiling, in a twisted way.

“Given, well, Caro, not exactly the nicest metaphor. Story of me over for now”

She nodded, dabbed her eyes, and tried her own smile.

“Yes, well. From KL—Kuala Lumpur, capital city of my own country. Family’s pretty observant. I’d say ‘orthodox’, but that would make them sound Jewish, and, well, not exactly on their ‘nice’ list. I studied down in Singapore, which is a VERY different place
She laughed, rather amazingly, given the topic.

“It’s so strict, in so many ways, but at the same time it’s very free in some ways. Main one is cultural: four main cultures squeezed into one small country and told to get along. Codeswitching in Singlish is amazing”

“Sorry?”

“Ah, Singlish—Singaporean English. They jump from language to language when they speak, depending on which one works best at the time. Back home, it was always either English or Bahasa Melayu—Malay. Near where I lived, they were so strict they used to enforce lights staying on in cinemas”

“Beginning to sound like a broken record here, but, again, sorry?”

“Videos, Mike, or DVDs now. You don’t need to go to a cinema to see the latest film, so the only reason anyone wants to go must be Immorality!”

She made expansive hand gestures for the last word, eyebrows raised and a quavering intonation, then sniggered.

“I shouldn’t laugh, because it really isn’t funny. Over the last few years, they’ve been getting stricter and stricter. The constitution literally enshrines the religion, and as I said to you already, every Malay child is automatically enrolled into it. No choice. Anyway… Anyway, there’s me down in Uni getting my soul polluted, or something, and even with the lack of civil liberties in many areas, It is really a breath of fresh air, or rather a whole new world of it. That’s what broke my links to my family. Someone tipped them off that their daughter was being immodest… I saw something a few days ago that really got me, and it was simple: whichever book you’re using, when it says dress modestly, it really means plainly, not all flashy, and nothing to do with covered hair or shapeless robes”

A much happier laugh.

“My fashion sense went ballistic, Mike! I could never, EVER dress like this at home. Anyway, I stayed on in the Lion City after my studies. Haven’t seen my family in years, and… That is going to be all for now, Mike. I don’t want to overload you, and I’m not trying to outdo you in the shitty life stakes. These sailing people, what are they like?”

I beat my curiosity into submission, and gave her the rundown on their issues and aspirations, and before I had finished, she was paying the bill over the protests of the owner (‘No, ta for the offer, but we’ll get it back on expenses’), and we were on our way to South Perth, where Rhona was waiting for us under an awning, Rod sitting with her, and a ug of what I was quick to recognise as LLB between them. He grinned a greeting.

“Hiya, Mike! Where’s Kul?”

“Tied up today, and not like that. Maryam here was free, so we have a quorum, or whatever. No, I am not going to mangle a load of Aussie words”

Maryam Raised a hand, finger pointed.

“Ripper, bonzer, she’ll be right, cobber! That’s done; what do you have for us?”

Rod waved at a van parked at the edge of the compound.

“Already had a go with their trailer, and it works fine. Going to borrow it this arvo and drag it up Welshpool Road with some weights in. If that’s a goer, fine, but I can always switch an engine over if it needs more poke”

I found myself seeing Rod in a new light, because that sort of work was well beyond the scope of what I had assumed to be a simple hire, sell or repair business. Rhona also had her eyebrows up.

“You can do that, mate?”

“As long as it’s from the same model range, it’s straightforward. Bit more work needed for a complete change”

He laughed happily.

“Got a little 250 bike in the shop. Surprises some car drivers, it does”

My attention was definitely caught.

“What 250, Rod? I am a biker”

“Oh, Honda RS, Mike”

“What have you done to it?”

“Swapped out the engine for an XT660. Bit more poke, as I said”

I turned to Maz to explain.

“Gone from around twenty five horsepower to forty five. How on Earth did you squeeze it in?”

“Oh, I had to remodel the bottom of the fuel tank and…”

He went into a very detailed explanation, and my respect continued to increase. In the end, I put up a hand to pause him, and turned to Rhona with a smile.

“Take it from me, Rhona, but this man knows what he’s about. Shall we have a look?”

The work was indeed top notch, and as Rod talked us through the tricks he was planning for the seats, I could see Rhona nodding as her smile broadened. We had a success on the books once more. As we were about to head off, a list of points for the draft contract in Maz’s briefcase, she turned back to the pair.

“Just a suggestion, but next week I’m going to visit a camping supplies place. Let me know if there’s anything I should look out for”

Oh, you bloody sneaky Malay!

We were back on the road and out of sight of the yard before she let herself laugh.

“That went SO well, Mike! Think Kul would mind cracking a couple tonight, a toast to success, teamwork, whatever?”

“We can ask”

“I’ll ask. Hang on…”

She found a place to park at the water’s edge and pulled her mobile from the glove box.

“Kul? Me. Mike’s here. No, I haven’t dumped him at the roadside.

“Absolutely brilliant1 That Rod is a real engineer; Mike can fill you in on the boring boys’ club stuff.

“Yeah, I suggested that. Didn’t tell them I haven’t yet visited that camping place.

“Well, you are the one utterly without shame. I’m just the aspiring novice.

“Me and Mike, we are wondering, as it went so well. Crack a bottle tonight? Yeah? See you shortly, then’ we’ll do the bottle shop—hang on! Takeaway?

“Yeah. Text me your order, and we’ll do it. Tell Geeta this is NOT a reflection on her cooking, okay? Simply means it gets there when we do, so no worries about timing.

“Why? Because both me and Mike know you far too well! In a few, then. Bye”

She slipped the phone back into the glove box, and turned to me.

“Going to get this out while I have a sensible head on, Mike. Me, okay? Yes, I stayed in Singapore, because I was having fun, and, well, it suited me. That was… We, the firm I was working for, we shared a building with a few other concerns, but there was a sort of works canteen there. Outside catering company, set up in a space on the ground floor, and each business gave a discount to their staff, a subsidy”

“Nice idea”

“That was Singapore. Get the staff eating at the office, they’ll be back earlier, et cetera. Sharp business practice, like so much of what they do. Anyway, I need to get this out. Alan worked in the building, and his father and grandfather--- his grandfather had been a soldier, and his father had lived in Singapore with him when it was a British base. Used to go on holiday to Penang, where there was a British forces holiday camp.

“I… We…”

She paused, for a few long breaths, then continued, her gaze to the front.

“We got engaged. I invited my parents for the wedding, and they disowned me. We went ahead, around Christmas, and our honeymoon was in Penang, not that I told my family, after what they said. Alan had located the old holiday place, so of course we had to go for a look see. It’s raised above the sea, but steps down, and the beach is lovely, with rock outcrops to the North. ‘My Dad used to fish off those’, he said, so I sit on the steps while he goes clambering, and then the water goes out, and out, and out, and someone understands and screams at me to get up the hill, and…”

She was weeping now.

“And I got thrown around a bit, but I was uphill, and I got caught up in some buildings, but Alan… He washed up a week later”

She was silent for far too long, before smiling at me in a way that left no doubt as to how close she was to her own edge.

“Mike, I have no idea--- No. Not true. I listened to the two boys talk about you, and I was, well, Parallels, far too many of them. I didn’t mean to get so heavy today. I don’t know, well; just floating an idea”

“Go ahead”

“I have a lot of crap caught up in me at the moment, and I would really like to dump some of it. I really suspect, especially after what you said, that you are far too like me. I have a dream, though. Call me soppy, if you want”

“What’s the dream?”

“Ah, just to find someone who can listen as well as talk, and go down to the beach. Get all of the shit out of both of us as the sun goes down, and wait for a brighter morning”

CHAPTER 45
I had no answer to that, none that seemed adequate, so I simply reached across and squeezed the back of her hand, just as her mobile chirped from the glove box. I opened the cover and passed the phone across to her. A quick glance, then a shy smile, rather than the beam I was used to, or the brittle near-grimace I feared.

“Kul, Mike. They have all plumped for fish and chips, and he says not to bother with the bottle shop. His words: ‘Me real man, haz gotz booze’, and yes, all zeds, no esses”

She checked her face in the rear view mirror.

“Ah, I’ll do, and so will you. Let’s get rolling”

She went to start the car, then paused.

“Thank you, Mike. Really”

“I didn’t do anything, Maz”

“Not true. You shared, both ways. I had hoped, with your background, you would understand. I’m a very lucky woman right now. Let us indeed get rolling, and you tell me about that seafood place near the boys’ climbing shed”

So I did, as she drove, and a couple of times I actually heard her laugh, and then we were parking up at Chez Butt, paper parcels warm in our hands. They were seized on by Dal and Geeta, while Kul led us to the dining room rather than the lounge.

“Easier to chat round the table, mates. I want to know what Rod’s work was like. That suit? Beer is coming out of the fridge, if my offspring has his best interests in mind. Oi! Serf! Opened and poured!”

“Er, no, Dad. Still plating the food”

Kul shrugged.

“Can’t get the staff or the offspring these days. I’ll have to sell his body parts for transplants, I suppose”

He lowered his voice.

“Going to keep the lights dimmed, cause I can tell you two have been, well, talking. I’ll drive the table chat, okay? Keep it on safe ground, if I can. Ta, Dal! More to come?”

“One more plate, Dad, and it’s yours. Mum says the puds in the fridge”

“Beers?”

“Only got two hands, Dad”

“I knew I should have married that octopus. Give me a hand, Mike?”

As soon as the two of us were in the kitchen, he put an arm around my shoulder.

“You okay, mate?”

I shook my head.

“Not sure yet. She’s just about broken, but I can sort of see that in myself. Lots in common. She’s a very deep woman, Kul”

“She is that. Not for tonight, though. Geeta’s made her up a bed, so she can have a few, but two of us are driving tomorrow, so no piss up. Have that at the weekend, with Chad and Ronnie. Trip to the Vault, deep fried crispy sea locust at the place we visited, and then most of us back here for the night. Ripper, et cetera. Now, if you are steady, let’s get in there. Beers are in the cool bag, and pud is simply a load of ice creams and sorbets”

I handled the clinking bag, and the next few minutes were spent in near silence after our initial “Cheers!” as beer and chips were dealt with. Once our hunger and thirst had eased, Kul quizzed me about the boarding place.

“Ah, Kul, that Rod is a seriously good engineer. He was telling me about a bike he built. I don’t think Maz got the whole deal there”

She raised her bottle for a sip.

“Me and motorbikes? Not a clue”

“Well, what he has done is take a decent little 250cc bike, a bit old school in design, but really good for its day. Lightweight, decent handling. Anyway, he’s tweaked it to fit an engine nearly three times the original size, but done it in a way that makes the bike look just about as it was. Thing is, the engine’s a single cylinder in both cases, but a lot taller in the bigger one, so he will have needed to remodel the petrol tank, so he’s either very good at panel-beating, or in cutting and welding something that might explode, or both, and then keep the fuel from being stuck in one part. Clever stuff that looks simple”

Maz offered her take.

“More than that, Mike. I was watching the dynamics, his face as he was describing the work. He’s got a real passion in him, just like that Rhona, or Des at Soapy Joe’s. Found their place in the world, all of them. Kul, by the time we got there, he’d already taken the trailer for a drag up Welshpool Road, the hilly bit, and casually says he can always switch the engine for a bigger one. Just like that!”

Kul was grinning.

“Well, shows what sending the A-Team in for the initial contact does. Makes the second string’s job an easy one”

Maz arched an eyebrow.

“Well, Mike was there for both visits, so it was A-Team each time”

Geeta was laughing.

“Game, set, match and new balls to them, love! Mike: had any more news from Wales? And, well, I think Maz might appreciate a bit more info on who was who on that call”

I caught the little pat Kul gave to Geeta’s knee, but it seemed that Maz had missed it.

“Well… I gave Maz some of the---oh, hell, of course! I promised to tell you about how he left That Place”

I ran through a slightly cleaned-up version of the tale, finishing up with that second-hand account of him walking out on Dr D/Mr S.

“And that was the thing--- I was the only one in the loop till he was gone. Now they’re in a very, VERY insular community, but they seem to have made a space for themselves”

Dal chipped in.

“They all speak the local language, and it’s so weird. Different sounds from ours, like that double-L thing, and I don’t think Enfys and Dafi, I mean Alys, know when they’re in Welsh and when they’re in English”

I gave him a little glare I hoped was sufficiently surreptitious, and waved at Maz.

“Our B-team non-member here was saying something like that about, what was it? Singlish?”

She nodded.

“Yes. Codeswitching, where people jump from language to language, as they find the best expressions. Not so much where I’m from, though. Stick to one tongue, my father would say. Oh, yes: there’s a place I really want to see some day”

Geeta laughed at that comment, and I wondered, for the first time, how much she had put away before we had arrived.

“You said that about Hadrian’s Wall, duck!”

“Duck?”

“Sorry, love. Local term where I’m from. Anyway, yes, you said about that tree place, the Robin Hood film. Where’s this other one? Or is it part of a list?”

Maryam opened another bottle, and I saw Kul glance my way and give a little shake of his head. Maz was in full flow, now, so different to the bleakness in the car.

“I have such a list, Kul! My own 100 places before I die thing. Paris, of course, and the Little Mermaid in Denmark, and Iceland, and, well, loads, but this one’s Malta. The whole place… she digresses, yet again. The language. It’s Arabic, but written in Latin script, and it’s stuffed full of loanwords--- words from other languages--- so ‘good night’ is French, and ‘thank you’ is Italian, but they codeswitch all the time, from Maltese to English and back. Love to hear that”

Another swig of beer.

“Anyway, who are, were, the other three on that call. You gave me a few pointers about the couple, but the other man? What was his name again?”

“Neil. He’s another friend of the two families. He’s a photographer”

“Does he climb as well?”

“Er, no. He’s a cave diver”

“Sorry?”

“He goes into flooded caves. In scuba gear”

Her face said it all, so I did my spread-armed shrug.

“Nope. No way on Earth would I ever do that. As I keep saying, if I have a ‘fail’, it will be outdoors and accessible, not bloody well underground and underwater”

“Who’s Davvy, Mike?”

Oh, shit. Thank you, Dal.

“That’s Alys. She decided she didn’t like her name, and where they live, it’s a sort of hippy colony. I mean, Enfys’ actually means ‘rainbow’, so you get my point”

She nodded, and seemed to drop the matter. I asked what the pudding was, to break the subject, and for a while we immersed ourselves in the taste and cold. Maryam was working her way through the bottles, right up to the very last, when Geeta made a comment about beds and bedding, and she was gone. I gave Dal the cold stare.

“Nice one, son”

He was clearly finding it hard to look me in the eye, so I muttered something about sorting it later and let them all head off for bed.

Arse.

Maz and I rode with Kul to the office, as he claimed she might still be too lubricated (his word) for safe driving, and returned us both at the end of the day,, when she simply drove away after a very abbreviated farewell, which left me asking myself two questions in sequence, the first being whether I had said or done anything to upset her.

The second was to ask myself why I cared so much on less than a fortnight’s acquaintance.

I stayed with Kul for the next two days of burger restaurants and kebab shops, along with a travel agent and a shop that rather surprisingly declared that it sold ‘Manchester’. That turned out to mean various types of cloth and fabric articles. I spent the whole visit praying that Kul wouldn’t say ‘Ripper’ until we were clear of the place. It was one of those moments when I realised that despite the shared language and history, Australia remained a foreign country. That was reinforced when, once again, Saturday arrived as a warm and dry day, getting warmer. We packed our kit, four of us squeezing into the Butt car (got to get some wheels of my own) and rattled off to upstream Perth.

“Mike? Did you hear me?”

“Sorry, Dal. Miles away. Thinking I need to sort some personal transportation out. What were you saying?”

“I was wondering what your old climbing wall was like”

“Ah. In That Place?”

“Indeed”

“Well, pretty rubbish, really. There was a vertical jamming crack made from kerbstones set into the wall, which was all brick. Chimney and ledges made by setting paving slabs into the brickwork, with some wooden blocks bolted in as holds. Lengths of scaffolding pole along the top to lay the rope over for belaying, abseiling or toproping. Pretty crap, as I said, but miles better than nothing”

“You’ll love this place, then. Really modern stuff, and you don’t get a face full of gritty wind like at the top of Stanage”

“Air con?”

“Oh yes. If by that you mean big doors they can open. That’s it over there”

We were in a pretty nondescript industrial estate, and the building in question was a little low-rise, so it was likely to be all bouldering rather than leading. What struck me when we entered, though, were the colours. That and the plethora of impending angles: everything seemed to lean inward. Once my eyesight had recovered from the blast to my retinas, I spotted a sector with dangling ropes, along with a large number of fixed ‘quick draws’. It wasn’t all jumping off onto crashmats, then. Geeta was amused.

“There is somewhere to sit, there are cold drinks, and if I am bored, I can always have a go. And there are the other two, just arrived”

Indoors, away from the sun, both were dressed very differently from their rig on our quarry trip. Chad was in cycle shorts and a loose vest, while Maz was in looser jogging shorts, with a ‘muscle shirt’ style vest that showed half of her back between her shoulders. To my delight, both were wearing proper rock shoes.

“Chad, mate!”

The shout was from the other side of a rather large roof. Our boy jerked, then grinned.

“Hiya, Vern! Been shopping, I have”

Vern was also grinning.

“I can see! Make a real difference, they will, and with no Aussie bolts here, we can push the grade boat out a bit. What you looking to do, Mike?”

“Get a feel for the place first, and ideally do some leading”

“Right…”

He rattled through some site rules, and then insisted I do a demo of my belay technique.

“I know bloody well that you can, mate, but the insurance rules, ey? Right…”

He pointed out some of the more important features, and then left me and the others to explore while he checked over Chad’s choice of shoe, or something. I left them to it, and started warming up with a few simple traverses. Dad and lad were straight onto the toproped section, while Maz followed me as I swayed and hopped across the base of the wall. Our social outing seemed to have fragmented very quickly, but I wasn’t complaining, but rather listening to Maz.

She was alternating between mild swearing each time she slipped off, and detailed questions about what I was doing when I didn’t, and how to manage it herself. I spotted her a few times, standing below but a little to one side, just to ensure she didn’t end up with the comedy landing where the faller ends up running backwards rather than fall onto the crash mat, that can turn into a tragedy when they run right off the padding before the fall backwards onto a hard floor.

That was a lie. I was watching her climb, but it was her I was watching, rather than her moves. This time, I definitely knew where to look.

CHAPTER 46
“Mike?”

“Er, hang on…”

I topped out on the overhang, then shuffled across to the easy descent holds, as Maz snorted with muffled laughter.

“What’s funny, woman?”

“What you said: ‘Hang on’. Surely that’s the whole point of this game?”

Vern was shrugging.

“She’s not wrong, mate! Now, not being funny, well, at least not intentionally, but your mates are all a bit new to this, so I was wondering…”

I still laughed.

“Let’s see if I have it right: you want to lead a route, with someone you can trust to belay you, and you’re going to bribe them by making the same offer first?”

“Spot on, mate! There’s a 24 I want to have a go at. It’s a bit of a power-move thing rather than a balance one”

Dal was listening hard.

“Mike calls that a ‘thug route’, Vern. It’s what he does on gritstone, near our old place”

“Thug? I like that. Want to go first, Mike?”

“Dog and rabbit, mate?”

“Eh?”

“Never mind. Which one?”

‘Thug’ was not quite the right term, but it was certainly dynamic. The crux was getting over the lip of an impending wall onto easier ground, but there was a runner right there and a thank-god-jug a stretch away. The trick was getting my left foot up onto what had been the handhold I used for a semi-dyno---

In English, I brought my chin up over the lip of a bulging wall, lunged one-handed for a much bigger handhold, then put my left foot on top of the hold I still had that hand on, and stood up.

It wasn’t until a few flashes went off, and applause started that clearly involved more than our party, that I realised I had drawn a crowd. I settled myself for the last part of the route before being lowered off, Vern declining a chance to second it.

“No, Mike. I want to lead this one, if I can. I’ll let you know if I come off, probably by screaming”

As we set up my ground belay, another climber asked me how many times I had fallen off the move before I got it right, and Maz answered.

“None at all, my friend. It’s our first visit here”

“Your hubby’s just on-sighted that? Christ on a bloody bike!”

Vern chipped in.

“Met this lot up at Statham’s. Mike’s a trad climber, from England”

“Trad? Bugger that”

Dal put his own teenage oar in, with a smirk.

“I will just say ‘Aussie bolts’, mister, and leave it there”

Our new friend shrugged and grinned.

“Fair bloody point, mate. You got anywhere you’re looking to go, er, Mike?”

Maryam smiled at him.

“We were reading about some routes near Margaret River, on granite”

Our new chum was nodding.

“Vern knows the gen on that place. Bit---ah, there was me about to say ‘trad’. What do you lead at, Mike?”

Dal once again translated the grades, to come out with “29 or so”

“Christ again! No wonder you cruised that one. You going up, Vern?”

“Giving it a go, Tim. Mike’s shown me how, and he knows what belaying’s about. Want to run the vid for me?”

“Already done it for Mike, mate. As long as he doesn’t mind?”

I shook my head, then thought better of it.

“What’s the vid for, Tim?”

“Ah, we have an orientation message on video for newbs, and a shot of that move would fit right into the aspiration bit. ‘Look what this bloke did on his first visit’ sort of thing, and it helps that you’re no racing snake. Sorry, mate, but you are built like a brick bloody dunny, ey? Not like Vern here, or his mate over there trying to stop blushing cause I mentioned snakes. When you pulled round the lip and dynoed for that jug, your arms were like bunches of coconuts. Just not as hairy, of course”

He grinned happily.

“Keep talking like this, and your missus will slap me. Go on, Vern: camera’s ready”

Maz was doing her best not to laugh, so I turned away and set my focus on Vern.

“Climb when ready, mate”

He made easy work up to the last reach before the lip, lunged for it, and then lost his feet. The rope stretch brought him to a couple of feet of the mat, and I lowered him the rest of the way.

“Another go?”

“Yeah, but ground up, okay? Just got to pull the rope back down”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Do it properly, or not at all”

“Right. Now, when you’re reaching for that hold on the lip, get your left foot a little higher, onto the next bolt-on, and extend slowly rather than jump. Get both hands onto it, clip the rope, THEN go for the lunge when you’re ready. Your feet will pop off, but push down with the left hand and rotate so you’re facing left. Foot up, transfer bodyweight, then stand up”

He nodded, brow furrowed.

“I’ll owe you a pint if I get this one”

“We’re all off for a meal afterwards”

“Yeah, so Chad said. I’m, well, me too for the meal. Climbing!”

I talked him through the move as he tried to make the stretch as smooth as possible, and then he exploded from the lip, one hand seizing the jug as his legs swung from side to side until he pushed away from the lower hold, raised his lag, and with a yell of delight stood up and stepped onto the finishing wall.

“YES! YES! BLOODY YES!”

As more applause rose, I found my friends staring at me, Dal and Maz in particular. The young man was looking hopeful, Maz slightly dreamy. I shook my head at Dal, calling up to Vern to ask him to wait at the top, then have my explanation to the lad.

“Not if you want to lead it. I’ll toprope you, though, or Vern can bring you up as a second”

“Could I try that, Mike?”

I called the request up to Vern, and he agreed. Dal got as far as the stretch for the hold at the lip before he peeled, and Vern lowered him back down. Dal was grinning.

“What was that you told us about understanding how a route goes, even if you can’t climb it? That was me! Anyone else? Dad?”

Kul shook his head.

“Not me, son. I know my limits. I think you have another customer, though”

Maryam stepped forward.

“Don’t think I have any coconuts in my arms, husband dearest, but I would like to try, if I can”

There was a twinkle in her eye, which was nice, so I asked whether she would prefer to be belayed by me or Vern.

“I want you free to watch me, Mike. I mean, watch what I’m doing if I am getting it wrong”

She was teasing now, pretty obviously, so I forgot to mention that Tim was still running the camera. My own teasing would come later.

She surprised me with her balance as she worked her way up the overhanging start, until she was just below the lip.

“Maz?”

“Unh… yeah?”

“Slowly, now. See that hold by your left knee? See the lip on it? If you roll your knee outwards, your foot will hook onto it… that’s it. Now hop the other foot up a bit… that one, by your ankle, yes! Turn your body a little to face that hold… reach… Well done! Both hands on it… that’s good… bring your feet up and…”

She was off, held by the rope, swinging clear of the wall, head hanging.

“Am I allowed to swear, Vern?”

“Feel free, Maz!”

“Bastard! Nearly had it!”

“You bloody well did, love! How long have you been climbing?”

“Since that day we all met”

“Strewth! BLOODY well done! Tim?”

“Yeah, mate?”

“You got all that?”

“I did. Already got the framing edit in mind: ‘this could be you’ for Mike’s bit, followed by ‘and this is how inspiring it is, even for complete beginners’. Just need to swipe out the swearing”

“Good one, mate. Mike, we’ll have a chat about that, if you’re willing. I’m coming down”

He surprised me after his descent, by wrapping me in a crushing hug.

“Been aiming for that one so bloody long! And how could I NOT climb it, when you made it look so simple?”

Maz came over for her own hug of both of us.

“Simple isn’t the right word, Vern. I think, well, ‘logical’? Yes, that works. Mike’s real strength, I think: he lets people see things, rather than showing them. Now, I still have my harness on, so can we try some of these ones with a rope already there?”

As she moved away, one hand gently squeezed my left buttock, and no, the hand in question wasn’t Vern’s.

The logic of roped climbing left us in pairs, Vern and Chad happily moving onto easier ground along with the Butts, which of course left me with Maryam. As I tied her on for a low grade route, I kept my voice down.

“Um, my arse and your hand, Ms Rahman?”

“Well, as we seem to have wed at some point… Seriously, when you did that jump, round that overhang, you were like an anatomy lesson! Every muscle standing out, it was amazing. And, well, I just had an urge to see if, well, objective reality?”

She slumped a little.

“I’m sorry, Mike. What I was saying the other day, about the Butts talking about you so much. Just feel like I’ve known you forever. And Kul, well, what makes him so good at our job: he sees beyond the obvious, he sees clearly. If I am… If I am pushing things, well, yes. Only been a fortnight, anyway”

I searched for the words, then shook my head.

“No, Maz. Not dismissing you, just thinking things through. My wife, Caro? It’s been years since, you know, and she’s still there. I get confused. You… Fancy some fresher air?”

I picked up a couple of cold drinks from the vending machine, and settled myself outside the big roller door, trying to find the right words yet again.

“I came down here partly to make that break, Maz. I moved up to Sheffield for the same thing. I know, in my head, I need to move on, but Caro and me, that was a special thing in my life. Doesn’t go away”

“Like me and Alan, Mike. He was a big man as well”

“And Caro had a lovely bum as well”

I found my jaw flapping.

“Shit! Sorry! Didn’t mean to say that”

She had that teasing look in her eyes again.

“But is it true? What you were thinking? About my own?”

“Oh, for god’s sake… Yes, it is lovely, and you know it. And you have dimples when you smile, just like her”

“Well, they depend on smiles being triggered. I am sorry for pushing things, my friend, but I think we have cleared a lot of rubbish over the last few days. Our demons will fight back, but daylight helps. At least we have agreed one important fact”

“What’s that?”

“We find each other rather attractive. That’s a very good start. Now, let’s go back in and see if we can sneak a view of that video. Oh, and…”

Her hand squeezed my buttock once more, and I raised both eyebrows. Maz grinned happily.

“Just checking for any sag—Ooh!”

I let my own hand linger for a couple of seconds.

“None found!”

I hoped my voice didn’t betray the screaming of my nerves, and the inner accusations of ‘Adultery!’

CHAPTER 47
I let her walk in before me, and not so I could get another view of her rear end. This was all going too quick, or so one of the Greek chorus of voices in my head was proclaiming, while another was insisting that going at any speed at all, over any period whatsoever, would remain too quick. Did I not love my wife? How could I even think of heading down that path?

It left me a little out of sorts for the rest of our session, and I noticed slightly more distance between the two of us, especially after that mutual grope we had almost shared. So much for finding my little place of comfort and solitude.

Once again, my mental debate picked up on the salient word. Did I really want solitude? Discuss… Did I find myself attracted to Maryam? Nem con on that one; she was stunning, and given Dal’s evident crush, not just in my eyes. I was spotting her on some more boulder moves, once again catching her as she fell backwards from her landing, when she murmured, “I am so sorry, Mike”

“What for?”

“Being so pushy. We need… I need…”

She sighed, standing up.

“We both need a proper talk. There are things you don’t know about me, and, well, I am starting to get tired”

She raised her voice to a more normal conversational level.

“This is incredibly hard work, isn’t it?”

I took the baton from her as smoothly as I could.

“It’s bloody good cardio, for starters. Builds different muscles as well, depending on technique”

She snorted out on of her adorable (‘Adulterer!’) laughs, the dimples there as she grinned.

“Right, like you compared to that Vern!”

I nodded.

“Racing snakes and thugs, Maz. There are some routes, chimney climbs, I can’t get into. I have to climb the outside. One of the reasons I love hand jams”

“A man’s grip for a man’s climb?”

“Sort of, yeah”

We were talking again, and it was all safe stuff, as I described the differences between gritstone thugging, slate crimping, Welsh balance, and insane trust-to-friction-I-hope-there’s-no-damp-patches during suicidal run-outs on Scottish granite slabs. Vern caught the tail end of that one.

“Run-outs?”

“Yeah. Huge slabs of granite, minimal holds. Limited runners, too. There’s a couple in Glen Etive where the pitch is longer than the rope”

“What the fu---sorry, Maz. You mean?”

“Yup. Second has to untie and follow the leader until that one reaches the next stance”

“And, just guessing here, but this is trad? No bolts?”

“Try bolting a route up there and you will be lynched. If you can’t climb it as it is, leave it to someone who can”

Vern shook his head in disbelief.

“You poms got no fear at all?”

I had a sudden split screen burst of memory: Steph on high, soloing the last moves of Tennis Shoe while almost certainly still drunk, and myself, in the same spot, awareness hitting me like stonefall.

“Oh, trust me, Vern: we get bloody terrified. Makes us climb better, and it certainly improves our runner placement. Now, I think my lot are starting to tire, and Kul has been spending a lot of time sitting on that sofa”

Dal called across, “Well, that’s what happens when you get old and past it!”

The silliness ramped up, until Chad called time.

“We eating soon? My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut, and I’m drier than---”

In chorus, Maz and I called out “A wombat’s ringpiece!”, and Chad blushed pink.

“I was bloody well hung over, you bastards!”

A wave of laughter followed, and not just from our little crew. Once we had sobered again, Vern held out a USB stick.

“Tim’s copied your bits—no, Chad, not THOSE bits--- onto this stick, so we can have a watch later”

Kul and Sangeeta stared at each other for a few seconds before nodding simultaneously, and Geeta turned to the lad.

“We’re having drinks at our place, with some people staying over, after the meal. Would you like to join us?”

“Well, Chad’s sort of driving me today, so I can always grab the bus home”

Geeta put a Mum look on, as Dal tried not to snigger.

“Vern, we have room, and we, well, as my husband puts it, can haz booze. You would be welcome. Think of it as a thank you for your generosity the other weekend. We had a wonderful day out, which you helped with. Need to stop at a bottle shop?”

Another, even pinker, blush from Chad.

“I sort of presumed, Geeta, and I put a load in the boot. It’ll need chilling when we get there”

Kul spread his arms.

“Well, we’ll just have to drink our stuff, which is in the fridge, before stealing all of yours. Food now?”

I waved at my shorts and vest.

“Dress code in that place?”

Kul waved a hand.

“Oh, as long as you’re not naked. They’ve got an outside area, sort of. Tent extension with fly screens. I mean, nobody wants a botfly on their calamari, do they?”

In the end, Maz opted to duck into the ladies to pull on her beach dress once more, and Vern paid for my impromptu video star work by giving me a free T-shirt from their shop. The seafood place had enough parking, the layout was just as I remembered from our earlier visit, and The Doctor was blowing steadily through the meshing around us. As we entered, I reminded Kul that asking for ‘sea locust’ would not endear us to the staff, and Chad that ‘marsupial anus’ might receive a similar response.

The food was superb. We started with a massive sharing platter, which included abalone, as well as all sorts of other items I failed to recognise but whose tastes were more than acceptable. I could get used to that sort of meal, I decided.

The conversation was lively, but avoided both work, due to our visiting stranger, and the topics Maz, Sangeeta and myself had been discussing, separately or in pairs. We ate, some of us drank, and then we left in convoy for Joondalup. The flies had eased, so we ended up in the yard/on the patio/whatever the Aussie equivalent was. Chad and Vern’s contribution, or a large part of it, went into the fridge, and before we went out back, Dal set his laptop up so that we could watch ourselves cavort on the ‘rock’.

It was actually illuminating, watching it once removed from such considerations as belaying a leader. I found myself almost blushing at my own performance while realising a few things about the others.

Vern was potentially a very good climber, if he could get past some confidence issues. His balance was superb.

Dal was all tension and coiled-spring-trembling. His heels were lifting too far for some of the moves, so I took a mental note to explain that to him later.

Maz was so different, reminding me, in the nicest way, of a chameleon stalking prey, but without the rocking. Slow, calm, her foot movement mostly precise rather than hop-scuffing, and the way she rolled her foot into that hook on the hold was perfect. And her arse, also.

(‘Cheater!’)

Outside into the warmth of the night, spoiled slightly by the screeching of a flock of some sort of Aussie birds heading for their roost. I moved to the darker end of the garden for another attempt at locating the Sothern Cross, but there was still a lot of light pollution from the wider city. Ah well; wait for that Margaret River trip.

“Mike?”

Ah.

“Maz? You okay?”

She stepped closer.

“Not sure, really. Up and down today, and, well, sorry about grabbing you. There”

“I did sort of do it to you”

“Obligation, I suspect. Felt you had to. Would you mind if I drank a bit too much tonight?”

“Need to or want to?”

She sighed, yet again.

“Both, I suppose. Lets me say things, and to an extent stops me worrying about it, at least for the moment. I wasn’t… I haven’t been touched like that for… No. I’ve been groped more than a few times, on buses and that, but that’s a different thing. It’s just, seeing you with your clothes off… Oh, shit. You know what I mean”

My heart rate was up, and the voices were screaming at me, and each other.

“I understand. I didn’t realise how much of my thighs those shorts reveal. I just bought them for free movement. Your vest isn’t exactly, you know, either”

There was a clink behind us, and I turned to see Geeta putting some beers onto the wall by us.

“Saves you two having to come in before you’ve had a chance to sort it out. Leaving you to it, okay?”

She walked off, and I stood shaking my head until Maryam called me by name.

“Mike, I need to say a few things, and I need to say them before I am drunk, and then I need to get drunk so I can pretend I don’t remember saying them. If you feel that you can talk too, that would be good. Or perhaps not”

She stood facing the outer darkness, and I soon realised she was seeing an inner lack of light, possibly even darker.

“Told you a few things… Oh, shit. This should be that thing on a beach, waiting for the morning light”

“We work with what we have, Maz”

“Yeah. Sometimes we are lucky, other times… Alan and me, we married, and my parents didn’t come, nor my brothers, despite the very pointed invitations. Good Muslim girls don’t marry the infidel, the haram. They stay at home and marry solid dependable Malay men, who wear a songkok and baju melayu, or a sarong, and have many Malay children. They don’t marry round-eyed and big-nosed men”

“You really loved him, didn’t you?”

“Oh god, yes I did, and I still do, but life, it continues, and then I hear about you, and I have a dream already, so… and you are here, and what Kul has said, and Dal, it is clearly true. But I am still a good Malay girl, and I am, or should be, modest and chaste, so my thoughts are wrong. At the same time, Alan is still there for me, still… I see you leap round that overhang, and every muscle is there, from your ankles to your forearms, and the chaste woman, she hides for a moment, before she is back to remind me of my husband”

I was without words for a few moments, so I simply turned to pick up a couple of beers and hide my face while I tried to return the confession she had offered.

“Maryam? Here”

We each took a sip from our fresh drink, and I drew my breath in, ready to make that dyno, om faith and a foothold.

“I had a problem, Maz, and I am told that my wife, my Caro, she shared it. I find it hard to see value in myself. Intellectually, yes, but away from that, I get stuck. When she first smiled at me, my thoughts were ‘Why me? What do I have to offer someone like her?’. And then Pen, and another friend, Audrey, they are explaining that Caro is exactly the same, and I was astonished, for she was lovely. We danced around each other, and I am told she spoke about not believing her good luck, and that’s not something I can just accept.

“I don’t know if I can talk like this without being drunk, but I am trying as best I can. I see you, especially when you tease---”

There was the slightest hint of a chuckle from her.

“When you see me from behind?”

Bugger it. In for a pound.

“When I see you from any direction, Maz. You are able to distract me very easily, and that is where we are alike. Your conscience screams about chastity, mine about adultery. What you said about Alan…”

“What you said about me really loving him? That’s you and your wife, isn’t it?”

“Yup. That’s me and Caro”

“Mike?”

“Yes?”

“Do you fancy coshing our consciences a bit? See what happens?”

I turned back to face her, as she mirrored my gesture.

“Mike?”

“Would you mind… could you… Oh, shit”

She stepped forward, and what else could I do but accept her embrace?

CHAPTER 48
She was warm, and as my chin settled onto the top of her head, I caught the simple scent of shampoo. Her arms went up my back to hook over my shoulders, and I felt her shudder a little, and I knew.

“No tears. Maz. Not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe, well, we have Sunday, all of it”

“Next weekend as well, Mike”

“Indeed”

“I… I brought some stuff with me. For tomorrow, if we do go out”

“What sort of stuff?”

She wriggled a little in my arms, turning her head to the side so we could stand closer together.

“For starters, my own swimming costume. It fits better”

Deep breath from me, rather than a direct response, until the words came of their own will.

“You, Ms Rahman, are a tease”

“Am I a successful one?”

“What’s that American phrase in court?”

“Pleading the fifth? You do realise that’s a tacit admission of guilt, don’t you?”

“Pass”

“That doesn’t work either. I have a suggestion, though, as well as an admission, and some comments”

“What’s the suggestion?”

“That we seem to have a sort of understanding between us. If we maintain that, then perhaps our inner friends will learn to leave us alone? And, well… then we will see whatever we will see”

“Admission?”

“I have been presumptuous”

“In what way have you presumed?”

“I rang that place with the chalets, near Margaret River. Got a general quote”

“For how many?”

She chuckled against my chest.

“Really, really presumptuous. Nine of us, Mike”

“Nine?”

“The Butts are three. Then Ronnie and her other half, us two and Chad”

“Oh. I see”

“Oh indeed. If Chad and Vern aren’t seeing each other, then all I have is a quote, but it might mean two properties, or restricted opportunities for hanky-panky”

“Maz…”

“No, Mike: not that presumptuous, but with two married couples, as well as a possible, em, romance, then…”

She barked out a laugh, with her usual snort following, and it was a good job she was facing across me rather than directly towards me.

“And the joke is?”

“Oh, Vern and Chad. I imagined them popping out for some, um, quality personal time, and coming across the wrong kind of snake and oh god did I just say that?”

“You did, Ms Rahman”

“Right. I need more beer, then”

“More?”

“It’s clearly working properly”

“I see. And those comments?”

“It’s…”

She drew in a long breath, her chest squashing slightly against my own.

“This is really, really nice. Alan was softer, not quite so big, and some of my voices are now saying approving things. Can alcohol affect imaginary friends, Mike? Or maybe enemies?”

I found myself pulling her closer.

“I bloody well hope so. I will say, and it’s not just returning a serve, okay?”

“What will you say, Mister Rhodes?”

“It has been, I haven’t… being held again is lovely. Being held by you is amazing”

“Not just my bum, then?”

“Told you: dimples”, (‘Adulterer!’); “Anyway, it’s too dark to ogle”

It seemed our mutual verbosity collided simultaneously with our ghosts, but we stayed as we were for a minute or two, before she stretched up to kiss my cheek.

“Come on inside, er”

Snort.

“Husband of mine, ha ha ha!”

We gathered up the remaining full bottles left by Sangeeta and stepped back into the living room, and it was only as I set the drinks down on the table that I realised her arm was still around my waist. Too late for conscience; I left it there, and turned to the others, my arm dropping across her shoulders. Brazen it out.

“We tried, Chad, but still can’t spot the Cross. Maz tells me she’s taken some steps for that, though”

Her arm tightened slightly on my waist, so I squeezed her shoulder in what I hoped she would read as reassurance.

“That trip to Maggie River, people? Maz tells me she has actually got some quotes”

I turned to Vern, with a smile I similarly hoped lacked obvious guile.

“Better explain, mate. We have been thinking about renting a sort of glorified holiday cottage down that way. Massive picture window, multiple beds, and a hot tub out the back. Plan is to do some swimming at Gracetown, spend time in the wineries, where we will gather supplies to improve the tub experience. And there’s cliff climbing”

Maz chipped in with a comment about birdwatching opportunities, and I did indeed catch a slight blush from Chad. It appeared Maz was on the money there, so leave him alone, Rhodes. A sudden thought rose up, and not from my accusing chorus.

“A thought, people, possibly for Sunday for whoever’s left: if I mail the Hiatts, do we all fancy another Skype session?”

Chad turned to the man sitting very close to him.

“Climbing friends, Mike’s and the two boys’. Good people; two little girls, and one of them climbs as well!”

He looked around the room, an air of challenge in his eyes, before turning back to Vern.

“If this lot are okay, would you be interested in a Maggie River weekend?”

Vern just nodded, a slight blush from him surprising me. Chad turned to Maz.

“How many did they quote for, Maz? Or rather, how many did you ask them to quote for?”

“Nine, Chad. Ronnie and her other half included”

“Nine…”

His fingers flicked out one by one, and then his gaze came up again.

“You are really, really cheeky, Maryam”

She shook her head.

“Not at all. Just making sure I have acted professionally as a professional business consultant in the profession of assisting people to be professional, and professionally covering all eventualities”

She looked at her bottle.

“I can still say ‘professionally’ and ‘eventualities’. Can you grab me another beer please, Mike?”

I did just that before settling down with my laptop for just enough time to send that e-mail, suggesting a Sunday Skyping, and while I tried to find a few suitable photos for a second mail, the reply hit my inbox.

“Kul? Folks? Penny’s just replied. ‘What’s wrong with now? Forget the time difference? It’s raining, so we’re all in’. What do I tell her?”

There were several shouts of ‘Go for it’ and variations on that theme, so Kul waved an imperious arm.

“Igor! Send up the kites!”

Geeta nudged Dal.

“I think he means ‘Set the screen up’, son”

Dal shook his head, but quickly rigged my laptop up after I had sent the reply accepting Pen’s suggestion. We settled into seats hastily dragged into positions facing the screen, which wobbled a bit, and then cleared to show the Hiatts, and nobody else.

“Hiya, you three. Where’s everybody else?”

“Raining, Mike. Steph’s working, I believe. Neil’s somewhere in The Peak crawling around underground, and the Edwards are off at a common interests families weekend”

That was a pretty heavy clue, so I slipped quickly past the subject. Enfys was jumping up and down and waving, pointing at various faces. Pen whispered something in Welsh to her, and she nodded, before running out of the room. Keith was grinning happily.

“She’s got something to show you, but she’s forgotten who everybody is apart from you and Kul’s family. Could we have a repeat round of ‘Hiya’ when she’s back? And speak of the devil, and thundering staircases, here she is”

Enfys was back, waving something so close to the camera that it couldn’t focus, and rabbiting away in Welsh, until her mother slowed her down and helped her switch to English.

“Got SHOES, Uncle Mike! Like Mam and Dad’s”

Penny slowed her hands down, drawing her back just far enough that we could see what she held, and it was a tiny pair of climbing shoes. I heard Vern half-whisper something about ‘starting them bloody young, no wonder they can climb like that…’ and then Penny was explaining.

“Hairy, as Geoff calls her, has friends in Dover, who go on day trips, and the French have got this massive warehouse style sports shop there. Just about anything you might want, so we sent them a tracing of her current shoes, and official sizes, and here they are. So, intros again, Mike!”

“Hiya, Enfys! Can’t you remember who we all are?”

The girl looked away from me, I thought, before I realised that she was looking down at a screen rather than at the camera.

“I know Uncle Kul, and Uncle Dal, and Aunty Geeta, but can’t remember other names. Beth sy’r---”

Pen cut in.

“English, cariad”

“Sorry! Who are the rest?”

I waved over to my left.

“That’s Chad, who I work with, and Chad’s friend, Vern”

“Hello Chad and Vern! I’m Enfys, which means rainbow, and Mam says I can change it when I’m bigger if I don’t like it, but it’s my name, and I do like it, and I can’t remember your girlfriend’s name, Uncle Mike”

There a few sharply drawn breaths, as well as a chuckle from who else but Kul, and Maryam sat up straighter.

“Hi, Enfys, and I like your name too. My name’s Maryam, but people call me Maz sometimes”

“You’ve got funny eyes, like at Dwr y Mynydd”

I gave Maryam a quick look, whispering ‘Chinese takeaway’, and then turned back to Enfys.

“Not quite, love. Maz is from Malaysia, not China”

“Do they do takeaway as well? I like Dwr y Mynydd”

Maz actually yelled with laughter just then, before answering.

“Do your Mam and Dad ever buy satay from there?”

Penny whispered to Enfys once again, and the little girl’s eyes went wide.

“Peanut butter chicken! My best!”

Maz nodded.

“That’s one of our things, Enfys. I don’t do takeaways, because I work with Uncle Mike and Uncle Kul, but I can cook it”

“Can you cook it for me?”

“Too far away, um, cariad”

“You could send it in a parcel”

“It would be cold and horrid before you got it. Shall I cook it for you if I visit?”

“Do you cook it for Uncle Mike?”

She looked up at me, dimples around her smile, and said, “Not yet”

Kul waved a hand, clearly intending to break the interrogation before it got too seriously embarrassing.

“People: we were all climbing today, and I have some video. Okay if I share the screen. Sound’s on the vid, so we’ll cut our microphone”

All in agreement, he started the video edited by Tim, which of course meant those of us in Chez Butt making our own comments without having to worry about little ears. I did notice Chad slap Vern’s leg at one point, before realising that while my arm seemed to have decided to keep its place around her shoulders, Maz’ hand had somehow ended up on my knee.

Video over, Pen and Keith returned to our screens, Enfys missing. Keith waved towards where I remembered the living room door to be.

“She’s gone to put on that harness you bought her, Mike, so will simply say one thing while I can. That pic of the Australian bolt---what the fucking fuck? Oh, and bloody nice extension, both you and… Vern? Except his was a real extension, and yours just a dyno”

Penny snorted.

“One of you likes tight shorts, the other one, oh dear me! Mike, we could just about see what you had for breakfast two days ago. What did you think, Maryam?”

Maz shifted a little so she could grin up at me.

“What did I think, Penny? Didn’t have the bandwidth for that; it was all used up with ogling”

Penny guffawed a loud “Touché!” before turning a little more serious.

“Your own technique was good, woman, and so was---Vern’s? Vern’s. Dal, you just need to concentrate on keeping your heels down. I could see you getting disco leg a couple of times, and here comes the thunder again—Hiya cariad. Still just about fits”

I spotted something hanging from the harness.

“Chalk bag, Pen?”

“Well, yes and no. I’ve tacked in a Pertex liner, and it usually contains emergency rations, or, as Enfys calls them, losyn”

I turned to my own group.

“Sweets”

Maz shook her head.

“Not here, Mike. He means ‘lollies’, folks!”

The chat continued happily until Keith made his excuses about doing the household stuff in the bunkhouse, and we all said our goodbyes as Dal closed the screen down, with rather a sad look at me and Maryam, the poor kid. Vern was staring at us in a rather different way.

“Tim and them calling you her hubby, and what Enfys said, and, you’re not there yet, are you?”

Chad nudged him gently.

“Not just now, ey, mate? Anyway, tomorrow’s plan?”

Maryam asked if he had brought his budgie smugglers, and snorted again, at which point I noticed exactly how many empty bottles there were in the room. Oh. Geeta was already on her way out of the living room to sort out bedding, and I did my best to slide out from under Maz’s comfortable grasp of my knee and pack up my laptop. Good nights were wished, Chad and Vern chose a corner to share, and after a rather long hug, I left Maz to her own sleeping space and settled down into bed. On a hunch, I opened my mail once again, and there was another from Pen.

‘Not pushing, my love, but that scene with you two together warmed my heart. I don’t think you realise how much each of you smiles when looking at the other. Just remember, whatever happens, we all love you, and if she ever does come over this way, whatever happens with the two of you, she will be welcome. We pay our debts’.

I switched the computer off, setting it to one side, and as I lay back in the darkness, that Greek chorus was back, in force, as I remembered the gentle pressure of her hand on my knee matching the soft smile she held up for my eyes to savour.

Get stuffed, conscience, just this once. I got back out of bed, pulling on a T-shirt and some clean boxers for modesty’s sake. Out onto the landing…

“Maz?”

“Mike? What’s up?”

“If that camping mat’s too hard, I have a bed”

CHAPTER 49
Sunlight was bright through the curtains, and my head was a little muzzy. I stretched to full length, and realised I wasn’t alone, and my T-shirt was gone. What… Oh. Right.

She started to stir as I moved, and then turned her head to look at me.

“Morning, you”

My voices were clearly still asleep, so I simply smiled at her as she rolled towards me. It was the most natural thing in the world to lower my left arm so that she could settle onto it, her own left settling across my chest. I realised I still wore my boxers, and her pyjamas were in place. She wriggled a little to get closer to me and kissed my shoulder.

“Thank you, Mike. This is really nice. So much better than that mat, and I don’t have to wait for you to inflate… oh dear. I, or my subconscious, is getting worse. Seriously, I don’t mean the bad jokes, they just seem to come of their own accord… Oh, I give up!”

Her left hand traced the scar down my breastbone, and she raised her eyebrows in silent inquiry. I nodded in reply, no words being necessary, and she hugged me.

“Small steps, Mr Rhodes. Agreed?”

“I don’t exactly consider this a small one, Maz”

“You still took it, though. I couldn’t, could I? ‘Hi, Mike, can I dribble into your pillow tonight, please?’ isn’t exactly ladylike”

Suddenly, there were tears, and I rolled slightly so that I could cuddle her properly, then waited till they ran dry.

“Can you talk about it, Maz?”

She nodded into my chest, then turned her face once more to the side.

“I was going to make another rude joke, deliberately this time, about being ladylike, but saying I can be VERY unladylike at times, and then remembered who I was unladylike with, and, well, you understand”

“I do. How can I help?”

“Oh, Mike, you are helping! Just please keep holding me”

“Even while we’re eating breakfast?”

“Especially then. I think the others have spotted what’s going on”

“Yeah, well, you fondling my knee was a bit of a hint”

“You didn’t like that?”

“Oh, you are…”

Sod the voices: I lifted her chin with my free hand and kissed her. Her breath was awful, all beer and food leftovers, and mine must have been the same, but neither of us seemed to care just then. As we broke apart, all I could see were eyes and dimples and smile. I kissed the tip of her nose once more.

“I think we might need a good brush of our teeth, Ms Rahman”

“Agreed, but till then…”

Her kiss was even more passionate than mine had been, and once again, I happily ignored her morning after breath, until she started chuckling as we broke apart.

“What’s funny?”

“Oh, a couple of things. First, how non-diverse is that place where Enfys lives? That comment about my eyes, oh dear!”

“Oh, very! It’s a very, very Welsh in a local place for local Welsh people way. Out of the mouth of babes and all that. What’s the other thing?”

“Exactly that, Mike. The other thing”

“You’ve lost me”

“Self-inflating mat, remember…”

I had been all too aware of what she was doing to me in terms of reflex reactions, and I started to pull away. She stopped me with surprising strength.

“We’re both adults, Mike. We’re also just about sober. Last night would have been wrong, because we, our stupid consciences, what was that word? They were under the cosh. They aren’t now, and…”

She took a few long, deep breaths.

“Mike, I am about to take my own big step, and if you don’t like it, don’t agree, I will take a backward step. So…”

Her hand went to the front of my boxers, and when I said nothing, it slipped inside. My voices were now awake, and screaming in indignation and accusation, but it was none of their bloody business, and then her nightclothes joined my boxers on the floor as she rolled onto me, and things proceeded in an absolutely conventional way to what was clearly a mutually acceptable conclusion, oh god. We settled down against each other, the room heavy with the smell of our lovemaking, and I added ‘shower’ to ‘brushing teeth’ as necessities. Once again, Maz was chuckling.

“And the joke this time?”

She dissolved into guffaws, until she could regain control, and then gasped out, “What I said last night about Chad and Vern?”

“Yes?”

“I do believe I have definitely just come across the right kind of snake!”

Such an obvious joke, but it set me off as well, until there was a knock on my, our, door, and Geeta called out that breakfast would be ready in half an hour. I sobered a little, and muttered about professional behaviour in a half serious way. She sat up, fixing me with a Paddington stare.

“I don’t give a fuck! Well, not right now, as we’ve done that already…”

Off again into laughter, so I just held her to me, kissed her, and sent her away for the first shower. She stood next to the bed, looking lovely and radiant and absolutely without shame, and tried to persuade me to share the cubicle with her.

“No, Maz. And no, that is neither guilt, nor rejection”

“Why not, then?”

“I want to have breakfast. If I end up in a shower with you, we might end up losing the whole day. Go, please, but---”

She had turned to gather her pyjamas, and looked over her shoulder at me.

“What?”

“Yes, Ms Rahman, I do adore your dimples, but that view is… Shower. Go. I’ll see you downstairs after my own”

She was back in a very few minutes, carrying her holdall, and made sure she kissed me as hard as possible before releasing me for my own clean-up.

“I’ll find out what it’s like without beer breath later, Mike. See you downstairs”

I rushed through my ablutions as the smell of bacon came up the stairs, dressed in ‘casual at the beach’ style, and then slowly made my way to the table as my conscience made another attempt to shame me. Everyone would be staring at me, was the gist.

They weren’t staring so much as smiling, even Dal, and it was clear that everyone else knew exactly what we had been doing. The assumptions were there in force, but there was a seat next to Maz, and a cuppa being poured for me, so I sat down, reached out for the mug Dal was passing me, and felt Maz’ hand settle comfortably and comfortingly onto my thigh. I patted her hand, and then addressed the egg and bacon roll Geeta had ready for me, as Maz spoke.

“Life moves on, folks, and so does the day. What are your plans, Vern? The rest of us are back in the office tomorrow”

The young man flicked a quick look at Chad.

“Um, my shift starts at ten tomorrow, and Chad is my ride---”

Maz, yet again, snorting, as the rest of us made rude comments, and Chad blushed bright red; I held up my free hand for silence, the other being on top of hers.

“Ms Rahman here has been delivering doubles entendres even worse than that one, so leave the lad alone. Kul, Geeta? Your place, so your call”

Kul looked at his wife, who simply nodded, and he then pointed at Chad.

“That lad’s been smiling, and that’s better than having to work with a miserable sod pining for the fjords. That’s in Tassie, isn’t it? Fjordland?”

Vern shook his head.

“Nope. Place I have always wanted to see, though: New Zealand. Just have to git there by jit, I suppose”

Even I got that one, so we started to plan the day, as Kul chuckled, before rubbing his hands together and making ‘Mwahaha’ sounds, to Dal’s obvious exasperation.

“Dad, just say you’ve planned for this, and we can get off to the beach”

The boy turned to the rest of us with a sigh.

“Chad, Vern, he’d already guessed what might, you know, you two, so we stocked up on barbie stuff. Mum’s got her foot on the brake, so no heavy session tonight, but we’ve got enough in”

Another quick look between Chad and Vern, and Kul’s hand was straight up once more.

“Don’t even think about objecting. Everyone here is a colleague, or, well, involved in keeping a colleague happy and thus productive. We are the ones with the space and the actual barbie. If the rest of you want to sort the supplies on other weekends, that’s all the quid pro quo we seek. Or should that be dollar pro quo?”

Vern was still trying, and Kul shushed him once more,

“Look: I get to see my friends, including my best friend, happy. What’s not to love?”

We spent an hour or so before leaving for the beach as breakfast settled, looking at the Margaret River websites, both for the cottages and the cliff climbing, and I pumped Vern (having to tell an imaginary Maz to shut up at that image) about his trad climbing experience, which turned out to be minimal.

“Got a mate who had a go a few years ago, and he bought some of the kit. Nuts and things. I could ask for a loan”

“He would do that?”

“He would, after this. Tim sent me an SMS last night—do you mind?”

He started typing into my laptop, bringing up his employer’s website, and then a promotional video, and I felt my own cheeks glow.

The video showed several of us, including Dal, trying to surmount that problem at the lip of the impending wall. Dal was described as an aspirant but inspired, Maz as an example of pure grace, but me, well, my blush was clearly there.

“Here we see newly-arrived English rock star, partner to that graceful lady, showing how to do the moves with power and flexibility, and now our very own instructor Vern Benning with style and a wonderfully smooth extension. There is no ‘type’ for climbing, just like there’s none for having that Aussie Fair Go. For more on how to join us…”

Vern shrugged, trying to hide some nerves that still shook his hands.

“If, Tim… He’s made some assumptions”

He dropped his voice almost to a whisper.

“I guessed what was going on with you and Maz, and, well, Chad confirmed it, so if you want, we can pull the vid as soon as”

I called across to Maryam, and she joined us.

“Something you need to watch”

She sat in silence as it played, then grinned at me.

“Partner, eh? To a rock star? Going up in the world! And I look really good in that video, too. Getting changed for the beach, then?”

She closed my laptop, drew me to my feet and then up to my room, where, with almost no hesitation, she stripped naked once more.

“Mike, this is for me, as well as you. I am…”

She looked towards the window, blinds still down, before turning back to me.

“I am starting to feel like, oh, words… Like coming home. Being like this is part of it. I want to feel comfortable with you, and you with me, and, well, no. Not now. Beach first”

I realised what she meant, and sat down in embarrassment, as she pulled her costume from the holdall and slipped into it, reaching for her trusty beach dress.

“Swimmers, Rhodes! Now!”

I started to turn away, and she reached out to stop me, so I followed her example, even though it was slightly difficult to get into my own costume, for a bloody obvious reason. She watched me throughout in silence, until remarking that we would have to talk about the scar some day.

“Not just now, though; when we’re at the right place, okay? I’ve brought a face mask today. And I’ve left a couple of pairs of spare knickers in your sock drawer”

She slumped, just a little, head tilting.

“Conscience is still there, Mike, still shouting. I am doing the best I can to ignore it, and, yes, I know all about holiday romances, workplace ones as well, but if I normalise things, take over your sock drawer, what are we doing today, going to the beach, meal with friends---normal. Shut the guilt down with banality. Just understand it if I blow hot and cold for a while, and oops, there goes my mind again. Freud would have loved me. Are you up for that sort of---I give up. You know what I’m saying, so I will make one simple declaration: unless you object, I won’t be using that mat again”

Two cars saw us to the beach, and our walk down was hand in hand for six of us, to my delight. Chad caught my grin, and shrugged.

“Not as easy here as it would be over Sydneyside, but not too bad. Oh, and I have news: my cuz has some possible campervan partners lined up”

Suddenly he was laughing.

“Moving and shaking, Mike, that’s what you do best, I think. We sending that lot over there to press the flesh for us?”

Maz stopped dead, staring at her feet, before looking back up with a grin.

“Nope! Not even starting on that one—it’s too easy. It’s going to be a hot one, Mike, so keep that T-shirt on”

A happy grin, dimples in place.

“For now, anyway”

Her dress came off in one smooth movement as we dumped our beach stuff on the sand, and yes, her costume did fit much better than the borrowed one.

A voice sneered about cheating, and I told it silently to bugger off.

It was probably just jealous.

CHAPTER 50
Chad was the late arrival at work on Monday morning, as he was busy dropping Vern off somewhere. I didn’t need to know whose place was involved, as long as the lad brought a smile into the office on his arrival.

Ronnie was already behind her desk, and in response to Maryam’s “Morning!” as the three of us walked in together, Ronnie simply said, “Very chipper this morning, Ms Rahman!”, before shutting her mouth more than a second after speaking.

She grinned happily at us.

“Oh, do I see a little bit of… Mister Rhodes, you do blush! I can tell, even under the sunburn. Do I say ‘congrats’, or do I keep gob shut and nose out?”

I looked at Maz, and she simply reached out a hand for mine.

“What does it look like, Ronnie?”

Our girl laughed happily, and came over for a hug.

“Bloody congrats it is, then! Where’s Chad?”

Something must have shown in our faces, because she roared with laughter.

“Christ on a bike, Kul, what are they putting in your water supply?”

She sobered quickly, lowering her voice.

“I really didn’t want to shout this one out, but I saw him four times last week, as I was going to pick up my munchies, and he was sitting in the same coffee shop, over the road from the sandwich place, ey? Same lunch companion each time. If I’ve got it wrong, let me know, and I won’t stuff up, or try my best not to”

I looked at the others, then took the hint.

“What did this companion look like, Ronnie?”

She looked down at her hands.

“Um, about his age. Fit as, ey? Blonde, short hair. Bloke”

“Sounds like Vern, Ronnie, so yes, you’re on the money”

“Sorry, Mike, but I didn’t want to out him if he wasn’t, you know, comfortable with it”

Kul laughed.

“They were both bloody comfortable with it all weekend at our place, love! As well as on the beach on Sunday. Thanks for thinking, though. Juicy gossip is SOOOO tempting. Meet me behind the bike sheds later, and I’ll tell you all about Mike”

Ronnie barked out a laugh.

“You’ve been doing that ever since we started, Kul! Hey, Maz?”

“Yes?”

“How’s the reality compare?”

The woman I was slowly coming to think of as my lover flushed dark under the tan of her cheeks, and shook her head.

“Not going there, Ronnie, apart from… Oh, you can guess. Now, we’re all on an office day today, and we have a proposal, a decent one, she says quickly, so if we can get a bit of time together, we’ve got something to show you”

Kul sniggered, and as she muttered a quick “Oh, put your mind away, Mister Butt”, Ronnie handed us the mail, which included one with a Sydney postmark.

“That one’s for the two boys, Maz. Think it’s about that camper place. Morning, Chad!”

“Er, hi, Ronnie. Expecting some mail today: you sorted it yet?”

“That the one from Sydney? Yup. Kul has it Quick work there, Mr Meads”

“Yeah. My sort of cousin-in-law e-mailed me last night; saw it this morning. Shall we have a brainstorm, folks?”

He led us into the back office, which was when I realised I was still holding someone else’s hand, so I gave it a squeeze as I let go, with a hopefully clear message that I would pick things up later, including the hand. We each stowed our little bundle of ‘Mail for YOU’ and sat around our little conference table with the mutual stuff. Chad took the lead.

“Right! Cuz says they have about ten businesses expressing an interest in the deal so they are circulating a request through the dreads-and-board-shorts community. Word of mouth, ey? How are the prices, are they decent fitters and fettlers, any known rip-offs, that sort of thing”

I was a little confused.

“Dreads and board shorts?”

“One of the larger markets over there. Surfing in New South Wales is big, but over the Queensland border it’s massive. Place called ’Surfer’s Paradise’, up by the Gold Coast. Surfers…”

He started to laugh, so I waited till he could explain without gasping.

“Like, they do the whole alternative thing, with a VW camper, but it’s a trek up there, so the serious ones get something more reliable, and leave the VW at home. It’s one thing posing in it at Bondi or Manly, it’s another driving it the best part of a thousand k to Queensland”

I was catching on quickly, the explanation bringing an ever-greater understanding of exactly how big the country was. I checked the distance later, and it would be like someone from Aberdeen deciding to go surfing in Cornwall. Ouch.

I turned to the others with a repeat of my suggestion about sending Kul over for the discussions, along with his wife and son, and Kul shook his head.

“Might go better with his cousin if Chad does the initial visit. Geeta will whinge, but for once I think we need a bit more of the personal contact stuff. Anyone disagree? No? But we’re not paying for Vern’s ticket”

Chad looked stunned, but Kul was holding up a shushing hand.

“She won’t whinge, actually, because it was her suggestion. She said she wanted a proper trip, tie all our kangaroos down together, she’ll be right, et cetera. Just make sure you leave some time to lose the hangovers, lad”

He softened his tone, smiling at the younger man.

“Geeta says he’s a nice lad, so I am neither to take the piss nor do any pushing. End of, okay? Let’s get this mail cleared, and then we can sort diaries”

That turned out to be a longer job than I had anticipated, and far more absorbing, but every hour or so, I would find a mug of tea arriving at my own desk, usually from Kul. As he put the second or third one down, I looked up.

“You want to give Rod a ring, Mike? Let him know what’s doing so far?”

“Good call, mate. On it”

The phone clicked a few times, and then Rod answered.

“Canning Campers!”

“Hi Rod; Mike Rhodes again”

“Hiya, mate! Getting on really well with that surf school job. Going to do two vans, and keep one of them here as a demo job. Might suit someone else. You never know, ey? What can I do you for?”

“Just got an update on that Sydney suggestion, Rod”

I talked him through it, and he chuckled.

“Canvassing the users, ey? Well, you’re not the only ones. That Rhona’s sharper than a sharp thing, Mike. She’s found a cherry for your cake”

“That’s supposed to be our job! What you got?”

“Simple as. We get this running, and we let folks drive over to Sydney, they deliver the camper to our new contact. They, in turn, hire our van out to surfers who want to do the Nullarbor and some of the breaks over here, which Rhona and her man will sort for them”

It was inspired, as well as a little incestuous, and I was already thinking about ways to get more involvement in it, so we could extract more cash. It wasn’t just Tasmanians who could work closely together, then. I finished the call, and started my report to the team with a “You’re not going to believe this, but…” and the info was received with a gales of laughter, and the suggestion from Maz that we should subcontract Rhona. Just then, our own Ronnie put her head round the door.

“Anyone fancy something from the sandwich shop?”

Chad shook his head.

“Um, I was going to grab a coffee. I could bring some back, after”

Ronnie shook her head.

“He’s already in his usual seat, Chad. Grab the snacks at the same time you bring him in here. Nobody mind?”

Maz was nodding.

“Makes sense, especially with what we wanted to discuss with you, Ronnie”

“Colour me bloody intrigued, then. Got a menu here from the munchies place, and a notepad for the errand boy’s list. Off you trot, Chad!”

He was back in fort-five minutes, which seemed to have allowed enough time for his blush to abate, even though he now had Vern in tow, and we gathered at our little conference table once more after Ronnie had set up a reception phone to ring through. Maz took the lead.

“Ronnie, I’m going to go into a bit of detail here that the rest of us already know, so they can get munching while I do. It started with the Southern Cross”

“Arse end of nowhere, Maz! I mean, halfway to Kalgoorlie, so RFO as!”

“Sorry?”

Vern chipped in.

“The star constellation, er, Ronnie, not the mining town”

Chad was nodding along with his friend’s words.

“Mike was on about seeing the Southern Cross, about getting out into the bush, and that became some holiday rentals down by Maggie River.. Idea is we sort a weekend out, book one or two of the cottages, depending on how many they sleep”

Kul laughed, interrupting him with a rude comment about that being a different and higher number to the number of beds required, and Maz slapped his arm. Chad took a while to find his voice again.

“Thanks, Mister Butt, for nothing. Ronnie, plan is to spend days on the beach, with a run round some wineries, and, well, the place we’re looking at has a hot tub”

Ronnie was grinning happily.

“Get sand in our cracks and pits, load up with booze, then slump in warm bubbles while getting pie-eyed? Where do I sign up?”

Maz waved a hand at the rest of us.

“We are looking at Kul’s family as well, so with Vern here, it’s an offer to both you and your other half. Proper team do, this”

Vern interjected, “And there’s cliff climbing as well”, and Maz replied with “Birdwatching too!”

A pause, before she added, “And I already have a quote for nine of us”

Ronnie’s grin gave way to outright laughter.

“Ms Rahman, you are just SO pro! Can I make another suggestion? Do we need to travel separately, or might your friend up in Kalamunda have something suitable we can hire?”

No arguments; Maz had a suitable ‘chalet’ booked for a fortnight later before we finished our lunch.

The afternoon went as quickly as the morning had, and when time came to ack up, Maz asked for a quiet word. I followed her out into our back yard, and it was only when she turned back to me that I saw the dampness in her eyes.

“Mike… I’m so sorry, but…”

My voices were shouting in glee, clearly scenting a victory, as she stammered something about too soon, too fast, could I understand, and a few more things, that cut the ground from under me, before she returned to the office to collect her kit and head home, and by ‘home’, she meant her own place. I couldn’t remember what she had said, so I stayed out in the sun until Kul came for me.

“What is up, Mike? Maz just cleared off, without a word”

I tried to shut down my hecklers, saying merely, “No idea, Mike”

“Like fuck you have! See if we can sort this tomorrow, but right now it’s home time”

He all but pushed me into gathering my stuff, and once in the car and driving home, he started a lecture. It was a gentle one, calm, quiet and softly-spoken, but it was still a lecture.

“She’s just like you, isn’t she? Like you say Carolyn was? No self-confidence?”

I muttered something, and he grunted at me, so I spoke up a little.

“Yes. I think so”

“Yup. She’s also riddled with guilt, Mike. I suspect she’s hearing her mother. Can I ask a personal question?”

“Ask it, and I’ll tell you if you can”

“Who did most of the driving over the weekend, and before you say you don’t have a car, you know exactly what I mean”

I sighed, feeling like shit and hating myself for doing so.

“She did, I suppose”

“Yes. She did. And I am sure she realises that, so if she has issues over her family, and how they see her, is that a surprise?”

He flashed me a quick look before turning his eyes back to the road.

“Sorry, mate, but I think she is having a real guilt trip, and that’s going to be a bugger to break her out of. Here’s my suggestion, and trust me, it comes from a good source”

“Who would that be?”

“Me, Mike. How do you think things went when Geeta and me got together? I am still not the top flavour at their mealtime, the, what was that? Cherry on their cake? We had our moments. I nearly walked away, because I saw myself breaking her family”

“But you and Geeta, you’re… you’re so solid”

“Soulmates, yeah? Don’t tell her I said that, but we are. I would be lost without her, and the lad, well. I’ve been fucking lucky in life, Mike, but I can still see how others aren’t anywhere near as fortunate. You and Maz, well, early days there, but I can see a spark”

“Not early days now”

“Not end of days, either. Here’s what you are going to do tonight”

We kept things to ourselves, at least those things, through our evening meal, and I simply retreated to my room afterwards with my laptop, checking my mails. There was one from Vic Edwards, forwarded by Penny.

‘Hi Mike
Sorry we missed the Skype, but we were away. Nansi found a support group online, and they have weekends away for families with transgender kids. There’s no pressure, no dress code or anything, just a safe place for them to be with others, use a preferred name, and things like that. We’ve not got much clothing and stuff for her yet, but as soon as she was released from the car, Duw, how could we not have seen who she is earlier?

She was sorry she missed you, and wants to know when she can see you again. Thanks from all of us here; give us some times, and we’ll make sure we’re all there together’

I rattled off a quick reply, no heart for anything deeper, and started a search online for local rock guides, which took some time and left me feeling utterly flat, as it all tied into our situation, our trip to Margaret River, and that little word was painful each time I used it.

I shut my laptop around eleven, and did my best to settle down for the night. Just as some dog started barking a few doors away, my phone chirped to tell me a text had arrived. I tapped it open, and it was from Maryam.

‘I am so sorry for today. Blowing hot and cold, like I said. Just had visions of what Mum would say. Couldn’t handle it’

I quickly, for me, typed back.

‘What would M say? You OK? Worried’

‘She’d say whore, harlot, haram. Can only fight voices so much’

‘Whore. Harlot’. Versus ‘Adulterer. Cheat’. All the same, in essence. I typed again.

‘What can I do to help?’

‘Be patient. What are you doing?’

‘In bed’

‘Could I dribble into your pillow tonight? Parked round corner’

CHAPTER 51
I opened the front door as quietly as I could manage, and she was there, a small holdall in her left hand. I didn’t know whether I should step forward, or aside, so I did the latter, and she slipped in and headed straight for my room. I stood at the open door for a moment, then closed it, once again as quietly as I could manage, before following her. When I arrived, she simply undid her coat and let it fall, to reveal her pyjamas. I lifted the covers on her side, and as she slipped into bed, I did the same on my side.

[‘Her side, Mr Rhodes?’. ‘Just piss off’]

I turned to face her, and she turned away, before wriggling backwards into my arms. Her voice was a whisper.

“I am so sorry, Mike. I shouldn’t be here, but I should be here, and whatever I do is wrong, and because of that I must have hurt you, and that will always be wrong…”

My arms told me she was weeping, as tears rolled off her face, so I made a sort of joke of it, saying that I had only given permission for dribbling, and that was when the sobs came from. She was as silent as she could manage, but it still tore holes in me. All I could do was pull her closer and wait out the tremors. Her hand crept up to squeeze my forearm, and a whispered question followed.

“Mike… are you Jewish?”

“Would that be a problem?”

“Yes. No…”

“My parents were, Maz. I sort of am, by ancestry. Why?”

She took a long, shuddering sigh, then pulled my arm tighter around her.

“It was so much, Mike, too much. I got an e-mail from Mum today, and… One of my brothers is getting married, and she wanted to know when I was due home for it, and what I said, my conscience, and I could hardly fail to, well, notice. You. Your… your cutting”

“Maz, it’s almost universal in the States”

“You’re not from the States, Mike”

“No”

“It had… I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and what Mum had already called me, and what she would… I am so sorry, Mike. I can leave now, if you’d prefer”

“No. I wouldn’t”

She was silent for nearly a minute, before speaking once more.

“Neither would I, Mike”

“Please turn this way, Maz”

She stayed as she was for an age, before finally rolling to face me. Make a joke or say something silly, Rhodes.

[Adulterer!]
[I told you. Go and get fucked]

“Ms Rahman, have you really been thinking about my private parts all day?”

“Well, you didn’t exactly keep them that private, did you?”

That was the trigger that finally broke the dam completely, and while her sobs were muffled in my chest, they took a long while to abate. As I held her and sought for my own strength, I heard soft footsteps outside the door. The next morning was clearly going to be fun.

She wound down in the end, and I took the risk and kissed her forehead.

“Thank you, Mike…”

A slowness in her breathing, and she was away into sleep, and I held her until I lost my own fight with exhaustion. I know I dreamt, I dimly recall that said dreams were weird, but that is all the detail I can remember.

The next morning was almost a rewind of that Sunday, waking to bright sunshine through the blinds and a warmth beside me. I turned to look down on her, and she looked up as I stirred. Keep it gentle, Rhodes.

“Morning, you”

“Morning back, you. What the hell is Kul going to say, Mike? And Sangeeta, and Dal?”

“Probably ‘Good morning, Maz’, I’d guess”

“Hell. This seemed like such a good idea last night”

I did my best to keep my voice level.

“It was a very good idea indeed, Maz”

She looked up, and all I could see were those Dwr y Mynydd eyes, and that was when I realised I was as lost as I had been when Caro had smiled at me over a pool table, and it was my turn to weep, and it was Maz who found her patience.

She spoke as I myself wound down from my own weeping.

“She hasn’t left you, Mike”

For once, I understood completely, and pulled her back against me until I could breathe without hitches.

“Maz?”

“Yes?”

“What a right pair of emotional cripples”

“Yup. What do we do about it?”

I thought for a while, and all I could remember were her words.

“What you said about seeing the sun come up, fresh light and a new day?”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Are you blind? Sorry; that was a bit rude. Maz, I am doing my best to ignore a load of voices that want me forever tied to the past”

I had a sudden gush of soppiness, or perhaps honesty, to the gob.

“Maz, apart from things to do with my wife, you are the best thing I have had…”

I did indeed gush, and she got it all, from my weeks on the piss to that moment I found myself at the crux of Tennis Shoe, without a rope, and that was when I found her holding me.

“So what broke the stupidity. Mike? Sorry if that’s the wrong word”

“No. Perfect word, that. I found someone to look after”

“Ah. Mike?”

“Yes?”

“You know I have an interest in languages?”

I remembered her comments about Malta, and nodded.

“I looked up Welsh names, Mike, and spelling. Davvy should be D A F I, and that’s a boy’s name. Dal really slipped up, didn’t he?”

Oh hell.

“You are a sharp one, Ms Rahman”

“Stop it, Mike. This is part of what threw me… Shit! Please talk me through it”

I took a while to gather myself before I began.

“You have it right, I think. Alys was told she was a boy when she was born. Shit: cut to the chase. She did her best to kill herself, I saw her in hospital, and she confided in me so that I could tell her parents. She’s Alys, end of”

“Is she happy?”

“She is now”

“Good. Enfys helping?”

“Oh god, yes. Immensely”

“Thank you. That gives me… I can understand you so much better. Does she have other friends?”

“Most definitely. I…”

A sudden rush of emotion.

“I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t been able to trust others to look after her”

She nodded.

“I have said this before, but you are living up to what Kul said about you”

I feigned a laugh.

“Really? He talks a lot of crap”

“Yes. But not about you, and there’s my problem. I’ve tried to put it into words before, but it’s a paradox, of sorts. We’ve only just met, but I feel as if I have known you for years. Mike, I was in a bad way after… That New Year, I nearly went home. I don’t know if I could have coped if I had done that”

“From what you’ve said, well, no”

“They’re still family, Mike. They are all---no. They were all I had left”

“And now?”

She wriggled to get closer to me, as if that were possible.

“Now, now I have so many people. Kul for starters, and now, well, if I say I don’t agree with my conscience, maybe you’ll understand what I mean?”

I couldn’t keep a chuckle down, and she lifted her head slightly so that she could look me in the eyes.

“Something funny?”

She said the words without rancour, not as an accusation but as an honest question, and U smiled back.

“It was last night, Maz. My own voices were saying the usual ranting, so I mentally told them to, er, go and get fucked”

At last, an honest laugh, and as it came, so did the tap on our [yes. 'our'] door, along with Geeta’s “May I come in?”, followed by Maz’s “Please do”

Geeta was carrying a tray of tea, which she set down on the top of the bedside cabinet before settling herself on the corner of our bed.

“I heard the door last night, you two, and a little of what you said. If I say I don’t need to know it all, please take that the way I mean it. Kul and I…”

She sighed, looking up to a corner of the ceiling for a moment before speaking again.

“We were worried, my husband and I. Both of us are fully aware of the loads you carry, or at least as aware as is possible from outside the pain. We made a decision at the weekend, that we would simply remain there for each of you, separately or together. That’s it; that’s all the message”

A smile, a different one to her earlier expression.

“Oh, and both of you are late for work. Kul has already gone, as has Dal, and He Who Is Never Obeyed Unless He Asks Nicely has promised to sort your diaries out and lie to your colleagues on your behalf. His words, not mine. He also did his evil laugh after saying that Mike doesn’t have his own diary yet, so he’d be able to claim double credits for half the work”

Maz was shaking her head, but I could feel her face move against my chest as she smiled. Sitting up, she thanked Geeta, and then declared that her entire diary for the day had consisted of four fast food places, all in the afternoon.

Geeta nodded, the softer smile back on her face.

“Then I shall have some sort of breakfast cum brunch on standby for you”

She reached out with both hands so that each of us could squeeze one, then left us to our tray of tea. We sat up, I poured, and as we sipped, Maz simply said, “That’s told those voices, Mike. They have to go and get fucked now, or they’ll be upsetting Mama Bear Butt, and we can’t be having that, can we. Put your cup down, just for a moment…”

She held nothing back in her kiss, and neither did I.

CHAPTER 52
That was as far as we took things, each for our own reasons. I knew my own, at least, but could only guess at hers. I dressed in ‘business casual’, as Maz did much the same in clothes produced from her bag, and for too many reasons we faced away from each other as we covered ourselves for the day. I still took her hand as we went into the kitchen for breakfast.

Geeta had done a more than adequate spread, and once it was served, she simply smiled at us while holding her car keys.

“You two have an awful lot to sort, and I have an awful lot of grocery shopping to do. Talk, both of you. Talk to each other, bloody well listen as well, and I shall see who is still here later”

She turned sharply, and the door was shutting before either of us could find a reply. I looked at the loaded table, raised an enquiring eyebrow to Maz, and, on receiving a nod, sat down to dig in. It was a while before either of us spoke, and it was Maz who broke the silence.

“I need to set a few things straight, Mike”

“We did a lot of that last night, Maz”

“We did indeed. Thank you, but I need to clear a few more road blocks. I…”

She looked out of the window for well over a minute, and I left her to her thoughts until she turned back to me with a tight smile in place.

“Alan was my first, Mike, my first of so many things, not just lover. I had preconceptions, I had fears, I had my family, as I imagined it, delivering scathing comment every step of the way. And, despite all of that, we wed, and I had more nerves about… about the physical side than I could handle, but, well, he was just Alan, and he took me from fear to…”

Another twist of her mouth.

“It went from something terrifying to something wonderful, and then to far more than that, which was as important as breathing, as the air itself. Alan… Alan was my life, and I am so, so sorry that I lay that on you. When…”

Another long pause, then yet another twist to her mouth.

“Kul wouldn’t shut up about you, and it all sounded so good, so perfect, and I was a little girl once again, whose Prince Charming was actually going to arrive at Perth, and I built such a dream palace in anticipation, and then you were here”

She held up a pre-emptive hand.

“Don’t even think of saying any crap about how bad you are. This is my confession, not yours”

I simply nodded, biting my tongue as she continued.

“That was the start of my fall, Mike. Dreams don’t usually survive contact with reality, after all, and my illusions shattered. Normally, when you drop something, and it shatters, it’s dustpan and brush time, and the bin, and you, you were so broken. Confused the hell out of me, but there were echoes there, what Kul had told us all. Then there we are at the quarry, and you just lit up, and I was dazzled once more, and I am now about to get really, really bad at metaphors”

“Get as bad as you want, Maz”

“I did that at the weekend---er, possibly not the right thing to say just now. No. I was going to say something about gluing a favourite ornament or something back together, still seeing it was broken, while remembering why you wanted it, and loads more, and what I mean is you can’t stop seeing the cracks”

She took another sip of tea.

“That’s you, Mike. A mass, a maze, of cracks, but I think I can still see the real you, and…. And I do believe I like what I can see. Not a dream, Mike, not that oaf on the white horse, because if he was real, he’d be bloody insufferable”

“Up his own arse?”

“All the way to his gall bladder, yes”

“Pyloric sphincter, or have we taken this metaphor too far?”

“I do suspect we have, Mister Rhodes. But I hope we have managed to gain some understanding. I know I have, after last night. That metaphor… Mike, please understand I can never fill your cracks, but you fill mine---what?”

Another long sigh.

“I don’t do that deliberately, Mike”

I reached for her hand, and she let me take it, lacing her fingers into mine.

“I know you don’t, Maz, but it’s still oddly charming. I mean, not odd, but, well”

I took a deep breath of my own.

“How do you want to play things? We’ve already jumped straight to, well, pretty far”

She looked up at me from under her brows.

“I thought a lot along those lines last night, Mike. I am, well, Mum spends a lot of time in my thoughts telling me how bad a girl I am, how much shame I bring, dishonour on the family, all of that. The salient point is that she doesn’t appear when I am with you. There’s more”

“More?”

“Mike, I dream of Alan, and I think I always will, and he came to me last night, and all he said was something about wishing he could take you for a pint”

Something must have shown in my face, because she was shaking her head.

“No, Mike! I don’t believe his ghost appeared to deliver a message. I simply had a thought about what he would, how we would, feel? And… and one thing I do know, know beyond ant possible doubt, is that he loved me as much as I loved him. Can I… I know it’s not considered good form to talk about your ex to… Shit. Whatever we are. Can I assume that you and her were the same?”

I could only nod, as the words would have hurt too much. Maz smiled back.

“I was right, then. We have both had incredibly good luck, then, and now”

She paused for a second, shaking her head.

“All I mean is that each of us met that person that made us realise, let is see that we were worth something. We’re privileged, Mike, and I need to say something here. This is sort of a prepared speech, for I went through all this before I got in my bloody car. Helps a lot, though, that we talked about Alys”

“Why Alys?”

“Your decisions about her, Mike. Let me see who… You know a person best by knowing what they see as important, what they prioritise. Enough said. I have realised I don’t know you, even though I sort of pretended I did. Now, I want to know you, and no shagging jokes there. I just feel, well, Kul was speaking the truth, and if you can handle my Mum serving awkward balls, then…”

“Maz?”

“Yes?”

“Yes. Just yes, okay? How much thinking have you been doing? I mean, all of that is so coherent”

I got a filtered smile, but one that seemed genuine.

“How much: All the time since I hurried out from work”

“Thank you. How do we handle this, Maz?”

She shook her head, turning her attention to her food, then spoke while seeming to avoid my gaze.

“I have some ideas, Mike, and I am afraid they bend to what Mum thinks”

“Go on”

“We get to know each other before… before more intimacy”

“And?”

She grimaced, shaking her head.

“The sex is wonderful, Mike, but Mum sits on my shoulder, and then it’s…”

A long breath, yet again.

“I have realised that I need you. Need you in whichever bed we use, so that I can fall asleep with you, then wake with you. Am I sounding too prepared in my speech?”

“Eloquent, Maz”

“Well, I spent hours without sleep trying to prepare my words, so, well, that was what I came up with. Sorry. I just have a few hard limits”

“Sorry, yet again?”

She looked down, then back at me.

“I want to share everything. Mornings and evenings; music and favourite films; books and places”

“Those don’t exactly sound like limits, Maz”

“The limits are in the categories, Mike. Films, for example. Nothing macho”

“Music?”

“No rap. Music should be musical, not simply shouting. And I really, really hate Country and Western”

“Absolutely? All of it? I could surprise you”

“It… it would be something you could try, but it probably wouldn’t work. What is your music, Mike, given a choice?”

I picked at the remains of my breakfast for a few seconds, memories biting hard at my soul.

“My wife… Carolyn and me, we were regulars at a folk club. We even had a sort of club event for our wedding reception. They… Sorry”

She rose from the table, returning with some kitchen tissue for my tears. Deep Breath, deep dive, Rhodes.

“We basically met through the climbing club, like Keith and Pen, and just like them, we were also members of the folk club. Caro is… Her grave is in a place near the climbing wall we used, and each time I have been to visit, since the move to Sheffield, I have found it neat and tidy, with notes left by both clubs. She was a very popular woman, Maz”

“I think that must have extended to you, Mike”

“Whatever… Music… would you mind if U put some on, just to show you what I mean?”

“That would be good, Mike”

I dithered over the stereo, where a respectable share of my luggage allowance was racked. Sod it: ‘Bright Lights’ would be too dark, ‘Trawler’ too shouty; Eric Bogle would do. I spoke over my shoulder.

“I have a lot of instrumental stuff, and a lot of traditional singing, but this man is sort of local. I mean, he is from Scotland, but emigrated to Australia. One of his songs is a real Aussie classic now, but I’ll save that one. His strength is in his words, and I know you love language, so I’ll start with this one”

I set ‘A Reason For It All’ playing, and as I settled back next to Maz, she passed me a fresh cup of tea before taking my hand, and three minutes later it was me passing her the tissues”

“Mike, oh. I recognised the voice. ‘Waltzing Matilda’?”

“Yes, if you mean ‘And The Band Played…’, Maz. He says that song was based on a real incident”

“You’ve met him?”

“Once, at a festival. Lovely man, incredibly ordinary, down to Earth. I can’t do what he does--- I’m a singer, Maz, but if I tried some of his stuff, I’d just choke up. I have no idea how he manages it”

I went back to the stereo, and swapped the disc for some Capercaillie, took my seat again, and found Maz nodding along.

“She has a beautiful voice, and the instruments--- so complex!”

She grinned at me, which was a delight.

“I do think you have made a very good start, Mr Rhodes, so I will admit a great interest in French music and film. Well, when I say ‘French’, my favourite is actually Belgian. Jacques Brel”

“Heard the name”

“You’ll know some of the songs, probably from covers. I’ll bring some over when…”

She closed her mouth abruptly, then turned a far more serious face to mine.

“Mike, I have a request, but not for now. I… Tonight will be best. Now, work. Will you be happy playing second fiddle to me today?”

I couldn’t help wondering what thought had turned her manner so serious, but my smile was still available for her.

“You’ve got the car, Ms Rahman. I have no choice”

“Right. Then we should get moving, and later you can have a trawl of the internet whatever you call a venue for your music. I just happen to have remembered which disc is sitting in my car’s CD player, so have your listening ears ready”

“There are other kinds? I mean, apart from people who are deaf?”

“There is a major difference between hearing and listening, Mike. Teeth and titfer, and we are off”

She took her holdall with us to the car, but it was only as she dropped it into the boot that I realised it was empty. The contents were obviously still in my bedroom; I stayed silent. Into the car, she started the engine, and then set the disc playing, and she had been absolutely right about recognising the songs. I couldn’t get the words, of course, but the sense of them came from my memories of the English versions. When one started, I found myself laughing.

“Alex bloody Harvey”

“Who?”

“Scots rocker, died ages ago. Very odd mix of styles, but…”

I reached out to pause the disc, and started my best take on SAHB.

“N-E-X-T NEXT! Naked as sin, an army towel covering my belly…”

She laughed out loud.

“That’s the one, but I think Brel’s version is a bit more suave”

“Oh, suave was never really a word associated with Alex. I will play you some… oh, and the Butts are also into the folk music, as well as Alys and Enfys”

“Really? At their age?”

“Indeed. They sit and listen as intently as, well, sometimes more so than some of the adults at their local club. Your words about listening and hearing would work well there.”

We carried on in that vein for the rest of the drive. Safe, neutral conversation, as were our grease and oil customers, Maz having quietly warned me that none of them was somewhere she liked to eat, unlike the sausage maestro she had raved about. We took some cups of tea, though, and once the last café was done and dusted, she drove me out to King’s Park, where she treated me to the park café’s take on fried rice.

“Nasi goreng, Mike. Not quite how I would make it, but it’s a Malay dish”

Various birds hopped in and out around us, and Maz kept the conversation safe by naming them all: “Australian raven, western ringneck, red wattlebird, New Holland honeyeater, galah, silvereye…”

I rang Geeta and let her know we were already eating.

“That place closes at five, Mike. We’re just having a mixed salad tonight, but I’ve got loads of sandwich stuff from that grocery run. Will it be two of you tonight?”

Maz went, “Ooh! Corella!”, and her hand squeezed my thigh. I gave Geeta the simplest of answers.

“Yes”

CHAPTER 53
I actually felt nervous as I opened the front door. This wasn’t like the interplay between Caro and me, as that had largely been on our own turf, at her place or mine, before… I shut that memory down hard. As I closed the door behind us, Kul called from the front room.

“We’re eating off our laps, you two. Tea’s fresh, though, or there’s some cold ones in the fridge, he hinted in an obvious way”

I led the way into the room, to find the family shuffling seats to leave the sofa free.

“The lad can sit on the floor. Knows his place, he does. What did she feed you, mate?”

Maz sat, tugging me down with her, as she had taken my hand as we entered the room. I couldn’t help thinking of a line from Tori Amos: ‘Everybody looking at you, I take hold of your hand’, and started to chuckle as I sat. I got a puzzled look from her, so met it with a soft “Later”, before turning back to our hosts.

“Malaysian fried rice dish, Kul. Came with satay skewers. You want me to get up again and bring you a beer, don’t you?”

“Yup, and one for the lad, I think. Then again, one for Maz, but SWMBO there wants a cuppa, awkward so and so that she is, so I will be forced to accompany you”

With an exaggerated sigh he rose from his armchair and preceded me to the furthest part of the kitchen. Turning, he put an arm around my shoulders.

“Are you okay, Mike? And Maz? Geeta and me, we’re worried, and Chad’s shitting himself, poor kid. Same with the lad. Can you talk?”

“I think so?”

“Good. Talk, then”

He squeezed me, then let go to gather the beers, and set one of them down a little askew, so that it rocked a few times, ringing on the worktop, before settling onto an even keel. I pointed at it.

“That bottle, Kul; that’s us. Banged into each other a bit too hard---no, put that thought away right now! I mean, all a bit quick, and so we were rocking, like that bottle. Could have gone either way, if you get me. Really stretching the metaphor, simile, whatever, but bang a bottle, be careful it doesn’t spray out when you open it”

“It’s her family, isn’t it?”

“Yup. As well as old ghosts that aren’t that old”

“Is she staying tonight?”

I gave that question a few seconds thought, then just nodded.

“Good. Because there’s a new flat pack wardrobe in your room that needs assembling. Dal’s good at those, and it would help settle him into reality a bit more, concerning Maz. He’s getting there, but I think it’s easier for him that it’s you she’s with”

“Eh?”

“He worships you, mate. Leave it there for now. Can you pour Geeta’s tea, and I’ll take the beers in”

I did as asked, and after handing over the mug I settled down into the sofa beside Maz once more, as Kul passed us a couple of cold beers. Geeta mock-frowned at me.

“A word, Mr Rhodes: when you have finished listening to the stereo, turn it off. What were you listening to, anyway?”

Maz answered for us both.

“Folk music. Not listened to it that much, so Mike played some examples. Eric Bogle was one”

Dal perked up at her words.

“Yeah, there’s a club we go to, where his friends live”

Kul interrupted with a gentle “Our friends, son, friends of all of us”

“Yeah, suppose so. Sorry, dad. Anyway, the club is in the local pub, and when Steph’s there, that tall ginger woman, she’s a great fiddle player. Just absolutely over the top with it, hair everywhere. We should look up a club round here”

Geeta cackled, really cackled.

“Beaten you to it, son, mwahahahahaha! How many ‘has’ was that, love? Too many? Anyway, I have already printed a list of clubs for our delectation and delight. See what you do, Mr Rhodes? Without you, this man would spend all evening sitting in that chair swigging beer”

Kul shrugged, “Every man needs a hobby”, and Geeta shushed him.

“You here, Mike, and we’re off doing all sorts of things. I’ll be able to take his trouser waistband back in again soon”

We spent the evening wrapped in silliness before heading off to bed, and there was no question at all where Maz would be sleeping. I moved the flatpack off the bed, leaning it against a wall, as Maz gathered her night things and headed for the bathroom. I used the time to change into shorts and T-shirt, and on her return, I quickly did my teeth before joining her under the covers.

“That laughter earlier, Mike?”

“Oh! Yes. Line from a Tori Amos song I remembered. Thing is, I always misheard it, and that changes the meaning. The real words are ‘Everybody looking at you, here, take hold of my hand’, but I heard it as ‘Everybody looking at you, you take hold of my hand’. First one is all about reassuring someone, while the second is about facing down disapproval. And just before it, she sings: ‘Your mother shows up in a nasty dress’, and it all fitted so well with what we’ve been trying to set straight”

She wriggled closer to me, so I did the expected and settled her head on my arm, and she murmured into me chest, “That’s a favourite song of mine as well, Mike. Alan’s too”

She pulled herself even closer, and slipped a hand up inside my T-shirt to touch my scar.

“Alan had a thing for singer-songwriters, which was something we shared. I brought Brel and Lightfoot, and he brought Wainwright, Bush, Amos and Thompson”

“Richard? And Linda?”

“Yes. Sort of folkies, I suppose”

I tried to muffle my laughter, but it burst out, and she lifted her head to look me in the eyes.

“The joke this time is?”

“Oh, easy: when I played you stuff earlier, I actually avoided the Thompsons because I thought it might be too dark!”

That set her laughing, and then, well, there was a kiss, and all of our resolutions about physical intimacy just left the room for the night.

Morning light through the blinds, and a naked woman spooned into me. I was beginning to realise that I wasn’t just getting used to things, I was growing towards a need for them, and in another rush of clarity, I understood that when she was with me, I knew that she was safe and, I hoped, happy.

Kul was Mr Insistent over breakfast, as well as smug, of course, as he set out the day’s plans.

“I know you are working with me today, Mike, but we need to start from the office, and you two need to go in together. Ronnie and Chad both need to see you smiling. Dreary day today, I’m afraid: hotels, four of them, and a brace of factory canteens. No fancy sausages there. Maz?”

“Yes?”

“Geeta asked if you fancied cooking at the weekend, some of that Malay food you mentioned. She could do with an idea of what we need to get in. Apart from beer, of course. That’s a given. And would it stretch to Chad and Vern, of course. What’s on your list today?”

“Oh, I’m following up on the minibus idea. Got two camping shops to sound out for tent supply and repair”

“Right. We’re back up at Kalamunda tomorrow, anyway. Rod’s got another idea. Good man, that”

We drove in a mini convoy to work, and Kul let us enter first. Ronnie looked up from her desk, and grinned happily.

“Chad!”

The young man looked out from the back office, and puffed out a long sigh of relief.

“Thank god for that! You two okay?”

I took the lead after a quick nod from Maz.

“We will be, mate. Neither of us is exactly without baggage”

He nodded.

“More luggage than bloody Bags R Us, more like. Right: I’m off out on an idea of Ronnie’s. Was going to be your shout, Maz, but, well, with circumstances”

“Why my shout, Chad?”

“Posh suit, legs and heels, Maz. Bit posh, these people. Tell you what: how busy are you this morning?”

“I was going scouting for part of it, so not fixed appointments”

“Talk in the car, then? I’ll drive”

“Okay… just a sec”

She pulled my head down for a kiss, whispered “Later”, and was gone, along with the lad. Ronnie simply stared at me, beaming.

“That starts the day off in a better way, Mike! Now, this idea was a bit of a what-if thing. Here. Pull up a customer pew and I’ll explain”

We settled into our little waiting space, and she brought over a street map of Perth, turning it to the area of Fremantle that held most of the commercial docks.

“First thought was about Hillary’s, as we have some clients there already, and then I though the boats, ey? But they’re all toy ones, or the ferry to Rotto, but that’s not a catered thing, and then my other half says, ‘Why piss about with little ones when you can have a big one?’, which is always true. So I looked up Freo, and listed some chandlers for Chad”

Kul caught on first.

“Brilliant!”

He turned to me, grinning.

“Freighters come in, mostly. Not like the Caribbean here, or the Med, not got so many places for the cruise trade to piss off the locals. Chandlers and other businesses, they restock the stores, take away the waste”

“Don’t they just dump at sea?”

“Some still do, I would guess, but it’s a slogan with them, ‘Over the side is over’. Sizeable crew, galley, waste grease and cooking oil and all sorts of shite. Well, we’ll leave the shite, but you get my point. There must be an angle we can use to channel all that lovely potential money our way. Ronnie, my girl, you are bloody inspired!”

The day went as predicted, very much the drearily routine side of ‘consulting’, so I was grateful to arrive back home with nothing more than the taste of some pretty dire coffee in my mouth. Four of us were unwinding in the living room, in as casual a choice of clothing as can be imagined, when there was a knock at the door. Dal answered, returning with a slightly sweaty-looking Maz, and after a nod from his mother, he went to the sideboard as Kul sorted drinks.

“LLB, Maz?”

“Please”

Geeta pointed at the door.

“Go and change, woman. Dal’s sorted the wardrobe; says he actually enjoys doing things like that, the odd boy that he is. My servant will have your drink ready for your return”

She was back in far fewer minutes than I had expected, and as she came into the room Geeta handed her the promised coolness, along with a folded piece of paper.

“You’ll need this, love. Had it cut for you this afternoon. The paper’s the alarm code. Don’t lose it”

CHAPTER 54
That week was one for delicacy. While Maz and I seemed to have sorted a lot of common ground, it was still a problem dealing with the assumptions, and the dreams, of others. Not our first hurdle, but perhaps the most immediate, was at the weekend, when, largely at Dal’s urging, we had a mass descent on the climbing wall. Should that be ‘ascent’? No matter. That was when I discovered the fall-out from that publicity video, oh dear me.

I got any number of people asking me for advice, from training to technique, as well as offers to give me advice on Special Diets (etc), but it was Maz who really suffered. She refused to tell me what some of the more personal questions had involved, but I could guess.

We still managed some decent climbing, and I was really pleased when both Maz and Dal managed that move round the lip, even though in each case it involved multiple attempts.

Our week. No great events, no sudden revelations, but each evening brought Maz back to my, our, bed and another few items into that no longer flat pack wardrobe. I was drifting into a situation I had never intended, but could find no real objections in my mind.

[Adulterer!]

That was something I was finding easier to deal with each day, largely because of the simple fact of her presence. I was also beginning to realise how incredibly lucky I was, which was another split-screen moment that threw me off-balance for quite some time, for there was no way on Earth I could ever consider Caro’s death as ‘lucky. Instead, I had been lucky in the people I knew, from Audrey through Keith and Penny to the crowd around me now. That was how I finally finished my dancing around the concept, for it was the simple recognition that while life may have handed me the shitty end more than once, fate had given me people to love, in all senses. After all, wasn’t that what had brought Steph out of her own pit? Good people in my case, very good ones, and a bloody good man in hers.

That last set me giggling, because it would have been a typical comment from Maz, blissfully unaware of the double meaning. I’d have to see about a card for them; probably simplest to send it to my place with their names on it.

Shit. I only had six months in Perth! I had no idea what time Maz had left, or if she was a permanent resident, or what her own long term plans were. Visas were a very foreign country for me, and yes, I spotted the accidental pun as I thought the words, but shit indeed.

All of that went through my head in about sixty seconds as I sat in that King’s Park food place again, waiting for Kul to return from the gents’. As he approached our table once more, his eyes narrowed.

“Problems, mate?”

“Thoughts, Kul. Confusion”

He sat down heavily, after waving over a server.

“Could we possibly have a couple of LLBs, love? And the bill? Ta!”

As the woman headed for the bar, Kul quickly murmured “Ripper, bonzer, she’ll be right, et bloody cetera. What’s up?”

“Glad you didn’t add ‘this time’, mate. I’ve not exactly been an easy guest for you, have I?”

“Oh, do fuck right off with that crap. Bloody family is what you are, so none of that”

“Not what I meant. I was having…. Look, here I am, I’ve had some absolute shite in my life, and, well, not talking about that today. What it is, is that I’ve been lucky, more than lucky, in the people around me, you included, and that made me realise one major problem: my visa”

Kul looked up as our drinks arrived, smiled at the young woman and turned back to me.

“You know what we decided, Mike. Said that almost as soon as we got here. All three of us are going through the PBS, points-based system, for a permanent stay. You would have a bloody good case for that as well. It would mean a lot of hassle with your stuff in the UK, but, well, we both have a lot of friends in Sheffield, and I am bloody glad you are finally accepting that as a fact of your bloody life”

He took a long pull at his drink, then settled back into his chair.

“You’re wondering about Maryam, aren’t you? Short answer: she has three months left on her work visa, but it’s an open-ended one. She could go for the PBS at any time, if she wanted. Is that what’s got you rattled?”

“Not rattled, Kul, just counting blessings”

“Keep on doing that, and let me add another one to the pile”

“Eh?”

“Rod’s left a message. Canning Vans Rod. Asked if we can stop by when we have a moment. And we have a surprise appointment on Friday morning as well, thanks to my clever, clever boy”

“And?”

“First one you’ll find out in about three hours, second one over tea tonight. And no good trying to bribe me with a slice of that choc and mint cheesecake in the dessert section, either. Hint”

We finished off the afternoon’s grease traps after he had savoured his sweet slice, and then headed up the long hill to Rod’s place. He was even more ebullient than usual, hands covered in oil and other stuff as he emerged from the inside of a minibus.

“G’day, you two! Good to see you. You given Mike the heads-up, Kul?”

“Nope. Left that for you, Rod”

“Right! Mike, Kul says you’re a bikey?”

“If you mean a biker, yes. Always have been”

“Your birth must have made your ma’s eyes water, then, what with the boots and the helmet and that?”

Every Aussie thinks they’re a comedian. I gave a dutiful laugh, which wasn’t actually dutiful at all. Rod was always a good laugh. He did get to the point, though.

“We wondered about travel, mate. Perth’s a big place, but what’s outside is a hell of a lot bigger. So I had a word with a mate, and he knew another, and, well, it’s parked in the yard if you want a look-see”

He led us past the minibus, and when I saw what he had I started to laugh. It was an R75 BMW, not that different to what Neil had. I turned to Rod to apologise.

“Sorry, mate, but a friend has one of these. He modified his”

“Bloody side stand, Mike? Yeah, Scott’s done the business there. Bloody stupid idea. Anyway, what do you think? Was going to see if there was a car I trusted, till Kul explained”

I was astonished.

“You’ve done all that for me?”

He actually looked embarrassed.

“Bloody hell, Mike! You and your lot, you’ve done, you’ve turned my business round, big as, ‘ey? Anyway, when are you sorting out the Sydney stuff?”

Kul was smiling, but in a genuine way.

“Well, we’re sending our boy over there next week to get the fine print stuff tied down, so, yes, all going ahead”

“Ripper! Mike, want to give the bike a try out? Got a lid should fit?”

“In this rig?”

“Hell, mate, not like you’re setting out over the Nullarbor! Just give her a spin past the Gum Nut and see how you feel”

I obviously had no choice, so I took the offered helmet, which was just about the right size, and followed him to the bike. It was the trail version, seat height looking intimidating at first acquaintance. Rod was insistent.

“Down to the Gum Nut and back, mate”

I fired it up, hearing the usual Beemer Burble, clunked it unto gear after remembering to kick the side stand back up, and set off for my little tour.

Twenty minutes later I was back, spotting a shared look of concern slowly easing from both faces. Onto the hard standing, engine off, sidestand down and a high jump to get off the saddle

“Strewth, Mike, thought you’d come a cropper. What happened to ‘down to the Gum But and back’, ey?”

“Sorry, Rid, but it’s been a while since I rode anything”

I heard a muffled snort from Kul, so gave him as hairy an eyeball as I could manage, but it seemed I was really picking up some of Maryam’s tics.

“How’d you find ‘er?”

“Bit tall, bit soggier than I’m used to. Mire of a sports tourer rider, me”

“All arse up in the air and chin on the tank? Not a good idea round the city. Coppers’ll have you pulled up in no time. Anyway, this lets you go off a bit further. You’ll need to sort out your own insurance and stuff, though”

He went to a fridge in the corner of the workshop and returned with a trio of Pepsis, handing us one each.

“Kul said you’re only on a short-term visa at the moment, so buying a car or a bike only to have to sell it again would be a right pain in the arse. Think of it as being on loan, until you find out where you’re going. You might hate the bike. And don’t try and get your bloody knee down, ey?”

“I’ll try. Not today, though. I’ll need to sort a jacket, gloves and lid, for starters”

Rod grinned happily.

“Gets into your blood, mate! See you in a bit, then”

Kul was quiet on the drive home, and I realised he had been weighing his words carefully when he finally spoke.

“Geeta and me, we’ve been a bit worried, mate”

“Don’t be. I think I’m getting my head straighter by the day”

“Ah, not what I meant, Mike. Answer me truthfully: do you think we’ve been pushing too hard, you and Maz? As in you and Maz as an item, or whatever the cool kids say these days?”

I paused to consider the question fairly and he rushed in with more words.

“I mean, we both thought, we both know, sod it, that the two of you are well-suited, and both of you being… having. Shit. I’m stuffing this up. Just, please tell us if we overstep, or if we already have”

“Mate, I can’t really… Look. Yes, you made assumptions. No, they weren’t wrong. Yes, it seems to be working. What I think, though… Pull over a sec, if you can”

He found a space to stop, and then turned to face me as I sought my own words, unrushed.

“Kul, what I was saying earlier. Word you used, as well: family. What you and Geeta, and Dal, what you have been doing, and please take the word in the way I mean it, what you’ve been doing is from love, and that’s all I will say on that. Whatever happens with me and Maz, well, that’s for us, but no, all you have done is like letting the dog see the proverbial rabbit”

I couldn’t resist adding, “Mind you, you DID paint that rabbit Day-Glo orange!”

“Dogs don’t see colour, Mike”

“Oh bugger off, you pedantic bastard!”

I still hugged him, even though it was an awkward process around the steering wheel and gear stick.

I was unsurprised to find a familiar car parked outside the house, and was greeted by a cheery Sangeeta calling out “She’s in the shower, boys, so no rushing in, Kul. And we also want tea on time, Mike, so you can stay out as well. Oh, and she says she’s cooking at the weekend. I have a list of what we’ll need. Doing chicken biryani tonight, with tarka dhal, so clean your teeth twice before work tomorrow. Dal’s made a big jug of unSangria; he’s setting stuff up out the back”

Kul grinned at me, explaining that it was their name for an alcohol-free fruit punch, and then Maz was with us for a quick kiss and multiple hugs. Three of us settled down on the patio as Dal trotted out with plates and bowls, and then finally held the flyscreen open as Geeta brought out a steaming mass of fragrant rice and a large bowl of garlicky lentils. It was like being back in That Place, just without any of its other aspects.

Maz was in a happy mood, explaining how she would be cooking our Sunday meal, with all sorts of comments about slow cooking and coconut milk, until Kul simply held up a hand for silence, then flipped it over into a single finger pointing at his son.

“Tell Mike your idea, boy”

The lad looked slightly embarrassed at finding himself in the spotlight, but gave his best shot at self-effacement.

“Wasn’t anything someone else wouldn’t have thought of, Dad”

“Get on with it, son. Food’s getting cold”

“Well, okay. It was just looking at what you do, and then sort of turning it over. It was when you were talking about the docks, and all that waste grease and oil, what it gets turned into”

I shrugged, throwing in a quick “Biodiesel. Not enough for a big freighter”

“Yes, I know, but that’s a given. What does the Rotto ferry run on?”

Just like his father, he had a need to fill a silence with his words.

“It was a just something at college, about how you can’t have A without having B, but having B didn’t mean you had A, and I just sort of got thinking”

Kul put a hand on his shoulder, his grin as wide as ever, but prouder than I had yet seen.

“And, Mister Rhodes, where is it you think we are going Friday morning, together with some boys from our biofuel clients?”

He did his usual ‘Mwahahahaha’, followed by “My god, how the money rolls in! Who wants some dhal?”

CHAPTER 55
Friday morning duly arrived, and we made a fine group as we entered the conference suite in the boatyard’s business centre. Maz was in her very best suit, sharp enough to slice whatever you might need paper-thin, Chad was amazingly neat and both Kul and I had done our best to match them. We’d picked up Martin and Trudy from the biodiesel company at the reception, and once inside, we were introduced to three suits from the ferry company, along with another pair I gathered Kul hadn’t been expecting. Just as I was bracing myself for a typical stuffed-shirt meeting, the leading Ferry Suit simply grinned and held out his hand for a shake.

“G’day to you all! I’m Murdo, that one’s Caitlyn, and the miserable one is our bean-counter Joey. Who’s who with you lot?”

Kul took the lead, as usual.

“Well, this is Martin and Trudy, two of our clients. They represent Green Dream Biofuels. The rest of us are from Talbot and Swan consultants. That’s Mike, Chad, Maryam, and I’m Kul”

Murdo shook his head, grin widening even further.

“Maryam, was it? Does he do that every time”

She simply nodded at me, and I answered for us all.

“Well, he’s been doing it ever since the day we met, so I will assume it’s been a bad habit since long before that”

“Great. Martin, Trudy? Shall we dive straight in? What can you offer us?”

That bit got rather Death By Powerpoint for around half an hour, as the existing clients laid out the environmental credentials and tax benefits for their customers, and I simply sat and thought about what I could use Rod’s bike for. Camping trip? Maz and I lying on our backs looking at the stars? It was a little while before it clicked: no introductions had been made to the two extras. Once Martin and Trudy had finished their double act, Murdo gave an emphatic nod.

“Mates, we’re big on sustainability in WA. Bloody well have to be, given how much of us is Red Centre. It’s part of how we sell Rotto to the tourists, along with the bike hire over there. Even if those bikes are clapped out wrecks, and I didn’t tell you that. And the quokkas, of course. That aren’t wrecks, or at least not now. Bloody hoons and their quokka soccer. Anyway, thought we’d let some friends listen in, before putting any pressure on them. These two are Kerry and Randall from one of the whale-watching businesses. Now, can we go back over that bit about fuel duty, just for Joey’s benefit…”

Despite his breezy manner, I realised that Murdo was a very switched-on businessman, and we were with them for over three hours. Once all hands had been shaken, promises of a free trip to ‘Rotto’ given, and a few very important bits of paper (“I’ll run it past the rest of the board and have an answer by Wednesday, mate”) left with Murdo, six of us made our way back to our cars. Martin was chuckling happily, while Trudy was simply smiling, but she was the one who summed it up.

“Bloody genius idea, Kul. How the hell did you get an invitation to that one?”

“Nepotism, pure and simple, Trude. It was all my son’s idea”

“That’s not nepotism, not really”

“It is, when the lad is in the same class as Murdo’s nephew. Hints carefully dropped in the right ears”

“Keep dropping those hints, Kul, and we’ll keep picking them up”

“Well, we just happen to have these other two clients, both running diesel vehicles…”

He was off, smooth as silken sin, and when he explained how Chad was off to Sydney the following week, Trudy cracked up.

“Bloody networking on steroids, you are! Are you able to put us in touch with the van man? We have some tweaks we can show him for his engines, if he’s mechanically literate”

My turn to laugh.

“Trust me, he’s not just mechanically literate, he’s bloody multilingual with it”

We said our goodbyes to the fuel folk, and Maz rang the office to let Ronnie know the result, then looked around our group.

“Sod going into the office! I want out of this suit, and especially these shoes, and it is now the end of the week, my diary is empty and there is a beach calling me. Anyone with me, apart from the big man?”

Chad grinned back.

“Swimmers are in the car, Maz. I like to be prepared. Got yours, Mike?”

I swam in my underpants. I didn’t actually care.

Yes, we went to the climbing centre the following day. Yes, Vern was there. Yes, Maz cooked a wonderfully tender beef curry thing for the Sunday, that had Vern asking for more, and yes, we saw him and Chad off on their flight to the east coast that Monday. And yes, she spent every night with me. Sangeeta simply gave her kitchen duties each morning, and when I muttered some mild protest, Geeta’s response was a simple repetition of Kul’s comment.

“She’s family. She can pull her weight”

And no, my voices didn’t shut up, but they were getting a lot quieter.

Murdo was absolutely true to his word, as Green Dream let us know ebulliently that Thursday, with the promise of a bonus for Talbot and Swan. Chad and Vern were due back on the following Monday, but had let us know that they had three possible partners on their shortlist. We held a short ’team meeting’ in the office on the Friday after the news from Green Dream came in, our two absentees on a video link and Kul smugger than I had ever seen him, which was a serious achievement. He had a number of paper planes sitting on his desk for some reason.

“Boys, girls and Mike, I got a message from our head office this morning, or at least that’s when I read it. They are happier than happy things on Prozac at our last quarter’s results, particularly the maritime adventures AND the fact that we now have a business footprint on the East Coast. Our bigwigs are looking into ways they might expand on that one, so a bloody well done to Chad and nepotism! They have also asked for suggestions as to how people might prefer to be appreciated”

He sat back in his chair, grin flashing in his beard.

“We are each getting a decent three figure bonus for the quarter, a second one for the Green Dream deal, and a third one for Sydney, but only if that one comes off properly. So, just shy of a grand in bonus now, with half a grand to come if we get a ‘yes’ from Kalamunda. And that’s not all”

He sat grinning for a while, until Maz told him to get on with it, and he spread his arms wide.

“This was teamwork, folks, so what else could I do other than ask for some team-building exercises?”

Before anyone could answer, he asked Vern if he could skive off from his job the following weekend. The lad looked a little confused.

“I’m on casual terms, Kul, but still best to ask. If this is the trad climbing place, I can sell it that way. I’ll sort out a borrow of my mate’s kit, soon as”

“Good. Because I have booked this for next weekend. Head Office are paying”

He began launching the paper planes at the rest of us, while telling Chad he had just e-mailed the page to him.

“Yup. Booked for nine people, two units, one with a hot tub. Four nights, from Thursday arvo to Monday morning, so bring your work clobber, cobber, as well as your swimmers. Oh, and Rod’s doing us a minibus. Said we wouldn’t be able to fit enough wine onto a bike. Ronnie? Your other half?”

She held up her mobile.

“Just been texting. Working Friday and Monday, so he’ll drive down and back separately. Ripper, bonzer, she’ll be right, et bloody cetera”

“That’s my line!”

“Don’t we know it, mate! Food plan? You are NOT going to leave it all to your missus, ey?”

“Nope. Eat out during the day. Takeaway or delivery at evening. Just need to take enough stuff for our brekkies. Now, I do believe the wineries also do food, and there’s bound to be somewhere down by the beach, and then there’s a visit to that place for Maz”

Her eyes lit up.

“The tropicbirds? Absolutely! I could kiss you, Kul”

“Ah, that’s Mike’s job. Er, you know what I meant. Anyway, clear up anything that needs clearing, sort diary space and get your relaxing heads out of storage”

Heading down the road just under a week later felt strange, as if I was taking one holiday within another. The minibus, driven by Kul, didn’t have air conditioning, but we had the windows open, and there was enough silly conversation to draw the string of what added up to around one hundred and seventy-five miles of driving. Maz started out slumped against me, but once we were into more rural areas, she sat up straighter, doing her best to spot birds as we rolled.

“Ooh! Spotted harrier!”

More like that came every few minutes, so I asked Vern to pass me the rucksack of ‘trad gear’ he had borrowed from his friend. It was much as I had expected, with a conspicuous lack of camming devices or hexes, almost everything being wired wedges like HB’s, Rocks and Wallnuts, but there was an abundance of quick draws and a decent set of tape slings. I could work with it, and just smiled and nodded at Vern as Kul shouted over the wind noise.

“Going on a detour, mates! Get that side trip out of the way for Ms Rahman there, and then we are going to run down to Cowaramup and see me, make me smi-i-i-ile”

Dal shouted something, Ronnie made a loud snoring sound, and we swept around the long curve of Geographe Bay, through Dunsborough and up much narrower roads with little signs warning of the night time presence of various unfamiliar marsupials. Finally, we arrived at a car park, the air fresh with the smell of the sea, and a path led through brush and across areas of bare rock to a circular viewing platform, a conical sea stack offshore. The rock felt almost like gritstone, with excellent friction and multiple fault and crack lines, a golden brown in colour, and I was already assessing it for runner placements when I realised Maz was talking to me.

“The big white birds, love! See the tail streamers? And there’s a pod of dolphins!”

CHAPTER 56
I stared at her back, just for a couple of seconds, wondering what she had meant, or if she had meant anything at all. It was a word used freely by both Geeta and Kul, as well as some of our customers, and she might not have meant anything at all by it, caught up as she was in her excitement at the birds and the dolphins.

Leave it for now, Rhodes. I called Vern over, and showed him the cracks in the exposed rock.

“That gear will work well in this stuff, mate, and it looks like there’s scope for jamming as well. My sort of climbing!”

Maz turned to us with a happy grin.

“You’re just talking about cracks in the hope I’ll say something rude, aren’t you? Anyway, got my life tick there, as well as some sooty oystercatchers, three gulls, two terns and a couple of cormorants”

Vern waved at the sea, vaguely.

“Loads more than a couple of gulls, Maz!”

She cocked an eyebrow, trying to look down her nose as she looked up at him, which didn’t work that well. She tried, though, but her sneering “Species, child, not individuals!” rather failed in its effectiveness when she broke into giggles, coming over to me for an embrace.

“Mike, this place is everything I hoped for! It’s amazing!”

Her hair was whipping my face as it flew on the breeze, so I turned her slightly to let it blow out to one side, and the dolphin pod raced through the channel once again.

“Good call, Ms Rahman. Doubt we’d have spotted it without your input”

“Plenty of time to see the rest. Kul?”

“Yes, Memsahib?”

“Don’t start that game. We got a time to be in the cottages?”

“Owner said he’d meet us at three”

“Right. Shall we go into town and have a late lunch, then pick up some simple grazing bits for the rest of the day? Buffet stuff tonight, finger food?”

Ronnie called out that she wanted some liquid supplies as well, and Chad groaned, before Ronnie pounced.

“Ooh! Didja go walkabout in King’s Cross then, you two?”

Vern nodded, mouth twisted.

“His bloody cousin, Ron, ey?”

His voice took on a nasal whine, which I gathered was his impression of a Sydney accent.

“Mate runs this bar, ey ey ey? ‘Nother mate runs this bar, ey ey ey? Got a good mate runs this club, ey ey ey?”

He shook his head in remembered pain.

“Don’t know how the hell we got up some mornings. Don’t think any of that lot actually DO mornings at all. Anyway, buffet food? That’ll be right for tonight, for me. Info says they’ve got ovens, so we could top it up with pizzas or samosas or whatever. And yeah, wine. Got to be done in Maggie River”

We had a plan, then, and once Jul had found somewhere to park our little bus, we browsed the little shops of what I quickly realised was a town that saw itself as an ‘arty’ community. Well, with wine and surfing, of course. Lunch was taken in a pub, as my eye had been caught by an offering of ‘roo steaks’ on a menu board outside the screened entrance. I thought: it had to be done, even if only the once.

We took up quite a bit of the inside, but it was a Thursday rather than a weekend, so no real problem. We stayed off the alcohol by tacit agreement that it wouldn’t have been fair to Kul, as well as the fact that none of us wanted to lose the afternoon. The arrival of our meals was announced by a raucous shout of “Which of you bastards wanted Skippy murdered?”

St Ives it clearly wasn’t, despite the arts and surfing links. And the sea was a lot warmer.

The supermarket had a decent selection of finger food, as well as breakfast necessities, and in typical WA style the cashier wanted a full conversation, along with chapter and verse of our respective origins. She stared at Chad’s hands for a while, before deadpanning perfectly.

“He’s from Tassie, so I just needed to count his fingers”

Chad blushed, and Vern took over.

“We’re staying near Cowaramup, love. Planning on avoiding cooking, so is there anywhere we can get a list of places that deliver?”

She waved at the magazines and papers racked near her till.

“Times has a weekend listing in it. That should do you?”

I must have looked too obviously puzzled, because she burst into more laughter.

“No, not the New York Times, nor the one from London: the Augusta-Margaret River Times. Local free-sheet”

There were a couple of other publications that looked like they might be suitable, so I gathered a copy of each for later reading, and then asked my own questions, which were simply about recommended beaches, and her eyes lit up.

“Where you are isn’t far from Gracetown, which is nice, but there’s a special bit to Injidup, bit up from there. They call it the Natural Spa. All it is, really, is a hole in the rocks that the waves make bubble, but it’s fun. Only problem is that you need to do a bit of rock climbing to get there”

It was Dal’s turn to laugh, but he managed to strangle it almost immediately.

“Sorry, Miss: wasn’t laughing at you; it’s just that we’re all climbers. One of the reasons we’re here. Hang on…”

He pulled out his phone, did a quick search on the net and found the new introductory video for Vern’s workplace, complete with our various successes and failures on that particular overhang, and the cashier’s eyes widened.

“I will save my advice then! Strewth!”

She looked at me directly.

“Those muscles don’t show up in that rig, mate”

Maz smiled at her.

“Oh, he gets absolutely hard when he’s doing a serious move”

A pause, a few snorts, and she sighed.

“I have told you: it is not deliberate. Sod you all!”

We still had an hour before our landlord was due, so Kul took us on a short drive to Gracetown and its beach, and then up to the one recommended by our delightful young lady. They’ll do nicely was the general consensus. We found our way to our cottages, and as we parked up, another Aussie cliché of a man rose from a patio chair to greet us.

“Mr Butt?”

Our driver stepped forward, hand out.

“I’m Kul”

A happy grin from the owner.

“Already been warned about that joke. Now, what I’ll do is show you around this unit, and then show you where the second one is. We could have fitted you all into one unit, so I’m guessing you’re after a bit of [cough] serious interpersonal time. If you decide to fight for the mezzanine beds, do it outside so you don’t break anything, ey?”

He unlocked the door, and I was immediately in love with the place.

“I made the tables and chairs, all from windfall jarrah, so every piece is different. Kitchen’s in here…”

He ran through the facilities, from hot tub to well-stocked DVD library, and after a handshake with three of us led the Butts and Ronnie off to the other ‘unit’, probably as Geeta was still mindful of Dal’s massive crush on my own lover.

That word, once more.

The ‘mezzanine bed’ had its own deck, halfway up the huge triangular sweep of glass that fronted the building, and with a grin at his own partner, Chad waved us upward.

“Got to be you two. Get settled in, and then we can decide which tub we are using tonight”

Maz was still in a teasing mood.

“Got it all planned out, then?”

Chad was clearly in an excellent mood.

“We have indeed! Stick the bits that need heating in the oven, eat out on the deck while we watch the sun set, then swimmers and bottles for the hot tub. And you two want a bit of a walk, as well. See what you can see, and by that I mean the stars. And what’s that bird, Maz? On the branch there?”

“Where? Oh! Dusky woodswallow, I think”

She turned at Chad’s snigger.

“That, young man, was your mind, and not mine”

“Well, still gotcha. Anyway, this place is gorgeous. Just remember, that bloke said he uses windfall timber, so Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Serious point, mate? Don’t poke about any old logs, nor step over them neither, ey? Hear there’s dugites down this way. Serious as, ey?”

My phone chirped, and I took a quick look.

“It’s Kul, people. Wants to know which place---- well, ‘Your place or mine, big boy’ was what he texted”

Maryam waved at the kitchen area.

“He’s driven all the way, so I say split it. Do the food here, so we’ve got the mess to clean up, and if we’re tubbing it, do it over theirs so they can get straight to bed”

She came closer for a hug.

“Means we get to be outdoors. Stars and stuff”

Vern shook his head.

“Too risky. I hear there’s drop bears in these woods. Eat you from the head downwards, those mongrels”

Chad sniggered.

“We, or rather you, spent too long in Sydney. ‘Mongrels’, indeed. But he’s right about the drop bears”

I let them carry on with their assumption that neither Maz nor I had heard of that particular Tall Tale for Gullible Tourists, and once Vern had finished setting out his description of the carnivorous koala-cousin, I simply asked about the fabled mountain drop bear, and the two boys exchanged a look. I then adopted my best expression of feigned innocence as I expanded on the question.

“Well, I was wondering if they’re like the wild haggis. Mountain haggis have legs shorter on the right, so they can run faster across slopes. Trick is to get in front of them, so when they turn round to run away, they fall over. Local shops sell special nets on long handles to scoop them up”

Another look between the two boys, Maz with her hands clasped over her mouth trying not to guffaw, and Chad simply sighed.

“You’ve heard it before, haven’t you?”

I just smiled and nodded, to a very disappointed but hushed “Shit and bollocks” from Vern. He rose and headed for their room, with a “Just sorting out kit for later”, and I dialled Kul.

“Hiya Mike. Got a plan?”

“Boys suggested we eat here, and soak at yours. That means we get the mess to clear up, and you don’t have to walk after your soak. Also, Maz and I will probably take some time to star gaze, as we planned”

“Well, just be careful of the drop bears and---”

“Kul?”

“Yes?”

“Boys already tried that one, so they got wild mountain haggis”

“Free range?”

“Is there any other kind?”

“Okay, then. We’ll see you in an hour or so for liveners or sundowners or whatevers. And our host says there’s usually quite a magpie choir at evening. You’ll like that, or perhaps not. Later!”

There were citronella candles in the kitchen supplies, and while I don’t actually believe the things work, they would give us a subdued light that would be preferable to leaving the cottage lights burning. As we finished laying out the food, Vern slicing the pizzas as Maz and I sat back on a double seat, the other four arrived, and I reached down into the ‘eskie’ I had beside us.

“Cold ones? Beer? Wine?”

Beers it was all round, and as I handed up the bottles, a strange yodelling started from some distance away. There were multiple voices in the mix, and half a memory came back to me, of a science fiction/horror film where a similar noise was used for that made by the unpleasantly carnivorous monsters. I could almost find myself believing in drop bears as what was clearly the magpie choir continued to coo and warble. I looked at Kul, and he nodded.

“Same murderous bastard bird, Mike. Hard to put the singing together with the vicious temper, to my mind”

Maz settled against, saying something about butcher birds and currawongs, and the sun gradually settled along with us. The buffet was all we needed, after my slice of medium rare Skippy earlier, and after we had simply poled our mess in and next to the kitchen sink, we set out as a group for the other unit and their tub.

The tubs were indoors, presumably for weather protection, built in an extension behind the cottage, with large sliding windows inside insect-proof mesh screens. Eight of us fitted in with a little space to spare, and chilled white wine was in yet another ‘eskie’ bag on a shelf next to the tub, along with glasses. We had all opted to walk across in our ‘swimmers’ with a T-shirt or similar for a little modesty. It was now completely dark, but Vern and I each had head torches, so we arrived without incident, whether dugite- or drop bear-related. I looked at the tub for a seconds, as Ronnie flicked a switch to start if bubbling, and felt a little stupid.

“Um, bit late to say this, but I’ve never used one of these before. Is there any, you know, etiquette code involved?”

Kul clambered in and sprawled against the edge as he sighed in happiness, then looked straight at me.

“I suspect it is much the same as Steph’s Tent Pledge”

“Eh?”

“No snoring or farting. Then again, we might not notice a fart, with all these bubbles. Well, not at first. You know what I say, anyway”

Dal and Geeta, in chorus, “He who smelt it dealt it”

How much had we all drunk by then?

I pulled off my T-shirt and settled onto the circular bench, and it was a delight. Warm fizzing water, cold non-fizzing wine. As I settled, I heard Ronnie draw in a sharp breath. Ah.

“Strewth, Mike, what the hell happened to you?”

I looked around the tub, and so many thoughts fought for prominence and control, but the one that won was the memory of Kul’s word ‘family’. Time to put a downer on the evening.

“Road accident, Ronnie. Motorcycle. I was filtering through stationary traffic on the motorway. And I was next to an artic--- er, I was lane-splitting a stationary traffic queue on a multilane highway. You’ve all seen those bits of tyre left when artics, what the Yanks call semis? When their tyres go, explosively?”

A collection of nods, and silence apart from the sound of the tub’s pump, and a distant dog, ‘Bark-bark! Bark-bark!’

“Well, it happened when we, when I was just passing one. Big chunk of lorry tyre hit me there, fractured my breastbone. Had to spend a while in hospital. That’s the story”

And that was all of the story, except for the minor detail of Caro’s death, but not then, not there. Keep the mood as light as you can, Rhodes.

“Now, I am getting tanned more than a bit, so I will show you something else. Where we went climbing near Sheffield, the technique locals use is called jamming. What it involves is putting a body part---stop that thought now, Kul---into a crack---and the same goes for Maryam’s subconscious--- and making it bigger by--- Oh, sod you all!”

I waited for the sniggers to die away before demonstrating a hand jam, pulling my right thumb across the palm of that hand.

“Rock’s really rough, so it works well. However, if you look across my knuckles… See the pink skin? That’s called gritrash, cause the local rock is millstone grit, gritstone, and that’s scar tissue, which is why it doesn’t tan. Lecture over!”

Vern was muttering about trad climbing, and Ronnie was doing her own commentary about not being of sound mind. I simply said I would show them all when we went to the cliffs, and settled down further in the water, so that the bubbles washed over my scar, and the evening carried us further into relaxation, even though the double-woofer was still going. Maz caught my look up each time the two canine shouts rang out, and shook her head.

“I know what you’re thinking, Mike. It’s not a dog, it’s a type of owl”

“What sort?”

“Would you believe a barking owl?”

She wriggled deeper into the water with a happy grin.

“This is, indeed, the proverbial life, but if I stay here much longer, I shall fall asleep, and most probably snore, if not fart. You lot can have a little more room, because I am taking my man home”

Her grin vanished.

“Oh! Sorry, Mike: should have asked”

I shook my head.

“No, you’re right. Anyway, star gazing before bed?”

She nodded, and Dal offered us his room for changing out of our wet kit. I gave that space to Maz, using the bathroom for my own swap, and wondered if Dal was having rude thoughts about her being naked in his room, before damning myself as being too pissed to be sensible.

We put our heads round the door to the tub to say goodnight, and then set out for our own cottage, arms comfortably around waists as we walked in lockstep. There was a clearing some way ahead, and in silent agreement we headed there, stopping to look up.

So many stars! There were patches of light pollution off in the distance, but here the stars were shouting in their brightness, and I couldn’t recognise any of them… Ah!

“Maz? Over there, that’s Orion. So… South is that way… Got it! Got it?”

I stretched out an arm, and she sighed as she too found the Southern Cross. We stood in starlit silence for a few minutes before she spoke.

“Mike, this isn’t that night out in the bush Chad suggested, but it will do”

Another, shorter silence.

“That scar, Mike. That’s part of you, and so is she, and that’s not a problem for me. Just as I hope Alan isn’t for you”

“You said he’d have taken me for a pint, Maz”

“Yes, I did. I said something earlier. By the Sugarloaf. Used a word”

“I heard”

“I am a mess, Mike, in so many ways. Sometimes, I feel it isn’t fair to load it all onto you, and then you smile, and I have a suspicion, or maybe a hope, that I am taking some of your own load in return, because we are both so overladen, and this metaphor is getting out of hand, so… I used that word. It wasn’t deliberate, and I wanted to slap myself when it emerged, but I spent the afternoon thinking about it. Sort of trying it on, to see if it fitted”

“And?”

“I don’t know, Mike. It’s… When I buy a new pair of shoes, I used to be captivated by the look of them. Fit was secondary, and I spent far too many hours with sore feet. Meeting Alan was like finding that perfect pair of shoes. I thought… well, I feel I’ve found another pair. Don’t even think about making jokes about fitting together”

She cuddled even tighter to me.

“I am trying that word on for fit, love, but I am not saying you have to. Just let me know if it fits you, if and when it does. Now, could we please head back in and try out that other fit?”

CHAPTER 57
Our massive picture window faced West, so our morning was lit up by the light falling on jarrah and sheoak foliage. Kookaburras were cackling away as the sun rose, and as Maz stirred she mumbled something about bloody introduced species. I kissed the tip of her nose.

“Morning, you”

A smile.

“Morning back, you. Bloody good choice for team-building crap, this. What’s today’s plan?”

“Brekky, then a try-out of those wineries. Prefer to get some time in today rather than leave it to the weekend, when there might be a crowd of people”

“And Ronnie’s lad won’t be down till later today, and the same argument applies to the cliffs, and the beach. I want to see that natural jacuzzi thing the woman in the shop mentioned, just without half the city sharing it”

“Ask the others, then. Team decision, woman. Team event”

She smiled up at me, as we lay side by side.

“Not all of it, Mister R. Hmmm… same initials. Well, if I ignore all the stuff in my passport about being the daughter of so and so, cause that would add a B”

“And if my middle name were Brian?”

“You’re joking!”

“I am. It’s Benjamin”

She was silent for a few minutes, before starting to tickle me, with some gusto.

“Out and get the kettle on, Rhodes! Day’s wasting, and there’s loads to see and do, and this girl wants to do active activities”

I grabbed my shorts from the floor after giving her another kiss, then padded down the solid wooden stairs to the kitchen area, where Chad was examining frying pans before starting his own breakfast efforts. He greeted me rather loudly, clearly so that Maz could hear him.

“Yup. Gets called ‘Memsahib’ once, and it goes straight to her head. Kettle was already on, Rahman, because some of us aren’t as slug-a-bed as you!”

“Well, would you want to get up if you were sharing with Mike? Ah… perhaps not the best thing to ask”

Chad was blushing a deep pink, but he held his ground.

“Can’t be that, because you kicked him out, and he’s down here and you are still in bed. Hot stuff is going on now, and your tea will stay down here for you to collect, Miss Lazy Bloody Arse”

We assembled at the bus after our food, and it did feel a bit like school assembly, and I half expected a register to be called. Kul visibly relaxed as he saw Maz and myself holding hands, but he couldn’t stay sensible for long.

“Oh great Sahib and Memsahib, where is your humble servant to deliver you today?”

Maryam stuck her tongue out at him, then started to work through the logic of her plan, and I saw Ronnie nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, makes sense. Thing is, if we are doing meals at the wineries, we can book them. Can’t do a beach reservation, ey?”

I held up my little rucksack.

“Got my swimming kit in here, as well as my rock shoes. If people want a go at the cliffs, we can stop by and pick up the rest of the necessaries.

Kul looked at his wife for a decision.

“Bit of climbing before lunch, then a picnic and the beach?”

Geeta nodded.

“We can stop by that shop we saw. Probably be mostly meat pies, but we’ll manage. Works for me”

The climbing turned out to be very much to my liking, and fitted my style. Vern summed it up quite neatly, or at least in a way that fitted his prejudices.

“See? Do my sort of climb, and it’s grab a quickdraw and clip, you’re done”

“I will just say ‘Aussie bolts’, Vern”

“Yeah, but they’re all the same size. You don’t have to try out six different bits of pro until you find one that fits. And the second doesn’t have to hang around for half an hour wriggling each bit to get it back out!”

I still think he enjoyed himself, and Dal most certainly did, his balance and confidence coming on in leaps and bounds, and I did the old trick of letting him lead an easier route while soloing just beneath him so I could offer advice and spot any bad choices before he moved above them. The sun was out, naturally, the rock was rough, warm and solid, Maz had both the climbing and the birds to enjoy, and Geeta was so busy with her camera I wondered how many memory cards she had with her.

The ‘rock climb’ to get to the natural pool was nothing but a walk where a stabilising hand was useful a couple of times, but the pool itself was just as described, with waves of white suds sluicing through gaps in the surrounding rocks to enliven the water. It wasn’t like the hot tub, but I came out feeling a lot more invigorated. Everyone was laughing, and even more so as we worked through our picnic before heading off into the ocean itself for the usual face-mask-and-snorkel silliness.

I was having fun, and, from the sounds and grins around me, so were the rest. I was out of the water, stretched out on a towel as Maz explained to one of the others that ‘it’s a pacific gull, just look at the size of its beak’, when there was a shout of “Some of us bastards have to work, unlike you bludgers!”

My worries were erased when Ronnie launched her self at the speaker, and, rather than smacking him in the mouth, gave him a smacker there instead.

“Mates, this is Rufe. Sweetheart, that’s Kul, his wife Geeta, their lad Dal, Chad and Vern, Mike and Maz”

“Hiya, all of you! Bloody long drive, so I am going straight in”

He quickly stripped to a pair of ‘budgie-smuggler swimmers’ and charged into the water, coming up a few seconds later to shake the water from his hair.

“Coming in, Ronz, or do I have to fill a bucket with seawater?”

He was going to fit in very nicely. As he stood in the water, he waved at his pile of clothing.

“Got some snacks and stuff in that bag. Help yourselves!”

Dal had a look, before passing out a selection of fresh fruit and a couple of pieces of flapjack. I worked my way through an orange, segment by segment, before plunging back into the sea. I was quite clearly not in That Place anymore.

Vern drove us back to our units, Rufe and ‘Ronz’ following behind, and as we passed a winery, he told Maz to look at the sign.

“Your sort of place, Maz, Vasse Felix. Great picture of a peregrine falcon as a sign”

She chuckled.

“It’s a sign, Vern, but it’s no kind of falcon”

“But their website says it’s a peregrine”

“Not with wings like that. Some sort of accipiter, I would say, like a sparrowhawk, or maybe a harrier”

“Bollocks to that, then. Anyway, they do really good food, I hear, and I don’t think that bit’s wrong. Where are we eating tonight?”

“Well, if we already have a recommendation. I can ring up and see if they’ve got room. Eat early?”

Kul made a comment about designated drivers, and Vern laughed out loud.

“My liver needs a break after that Sydney trip, mate! I’m happy to share the duties this weekend. Anyone else happy to volunteer? That has insurance, that is, so Mike, you’re out”

Geeta surprised me, in my unconscious sexism, by volunteering for the Saturday duties, and once we were back at the cottages, Rufe put his hand up for the Sunday evening, on the basis that he had to be up early to drive back to the city. I was literally getting an easy ride of it, and as I showered off the salt before putting on some slightly more respectable clothing, I was joined in the cubicle by a close personal friend, and we were nearly late for the meal.

The food was excellent; with the sun still up, we sat on a wooden raised decking thing, and had a few samples of the local vintage before tucking into a very interesting menu.

“Vern? Anyone? What on Earth is a Moreton Bay Bug?”

Vern and Maz answered simultaneously, Vern with “Mini lobster” and Maz with “Crayfish, mmmm!”, so that became my main course. The inner part of the restaurant was surrounded by large glass patio doors, and, as we ate, a sparrow-sized bird, an incredibly bright blue, hopped onto the decking, spotted its own reflection in a pane of glass, and promptly went berserk.

“Maz?”

“Yes?”

“What the hell is it with Aussie birds?”

“That’s a superb fairywren. They get a bit territorial”

“A BIT?”

That weekend was a delight, in so many ways. We fitted in several more winery visits, more great food, some half-decent routes on nice rough rock (To Rufe’s comment ‘bugger that for a game of soldiers’) and three more evenings of warm bubbles and chilled wine. All the time, Maz was smiling, I saw no reason not to do the same, and once back at Butt Towers, I started my research on the points-based system.

I was too far away from Caro to be at home, but each day in Australia chipped away at that thought. If things continued on their current course, that might change.

CHAPTER 58
The week’s work was routine, but Kul was keeping a sharp eye on the e-mail inbox. At some point, we hoped to get a go/no go from Chad’s Sydney contacts, and that would mean a heavy-duty Real Business Meeting with both our water activity clients and Canning Van Man. and quite possibly with the camping shop Maz had been chatting up. In the meantime, I was still riding with a mentor, mainly Kul. He was quite clear that I knew my job inside out, but I still lacked a lot of experience in little things like navigating the city, both in terms of streets and of local culture.

“Besides all that, Mike, you haven’t been to enough of the local greasies to know which ones are okay for a cuppa and which ones you REALLY don’t want to eat at. Like Sheffield and curry houses. Never, ever, do a job at the place you like to eat, because you’ll end up seeing the kitchen, and that might not be a good idea. Not if you were planning on eating there in the future”

I remembered a particular restaurant in That Place, and could only agree. A solid fortnight of visiting places whose cuisine varied from the amazing to the abysmal followed, and I found myself wondering how such places kept going. Kul, of course, had his pet explanation.

“Notice where they are, those places? Near pubs, and especially student pubs. You like doner kebabs”

“Not especially”

“Bugger off; that was a statement, not a question, cause I’ve seen you eating them. Thing is, even when you’ve had a decent meal at the pub, and eight or nine bags of crisps, as soon as you get out into the fresh air, bang! Grease tank needs filling. Don’t know who said it first, but there are some things you can only eat if you’re pissed, but when you’re that pissed, you simply have to eat them. And that is how and when these places make their profits. Problem for us is that they don’t change the oil in their friers that often, so less to send Green Dream and the rest. Suppose that’s how they maintain their subtle flavour”

We got the word ten days after our return from Cowaramup, and it was a surprising answer. Our new friends from Sydney would be across in another ten days’ time, and they would not be flying but driving a camper van, as they wanted to be able to sell the trip with absolute confidence. Rod was utterly blasé about the plan.

“Got a van due to arrive over there in about three days. Couple of Eye Ties, flying home from Sydney. Usual problem. If these boys can service the van, it will let me see if they can tell their arse from their elbow. I’ll waive the hire fees, obviously, but they’ll have to sign the usual agreement so we’re insured. Let me know when you need the paperwork, and I’ll fiddle it about”

Kul was as smooth as ever.

“Just let us have it, Rod. Part of the service”

“That’d be good, mate! Now, Mike: had any thoughts on the bike I can sort the rego out if you want?”

I could never get used to that Australian abbreviation, and the odd spelling that want with it. ‘Registration’ was abbreviated to what sounded like ‘red Joe’. Vegetables were treated the same way, but where we wrote ‘veggies’, the Aussie equivalent was ‘vegies’. Yes, I understood the logic. No, I couldn’t get used to it.

That Saturday, Maz dropped me off at Kalamunda and then followed me home as I did my best not to drop the thing. My leathers were at the house in Sheffield, of course, so I had bought a new jacket, lid and gloves and made do with jeans and walking boots for the rest.

I had also bought two bloody solid locks.

We parked up at the house, Geeta sorting some space in the garage for the Beemer, and Maz murmured something about buying her own helmet. I froze.

As I had an arm around her, she picked up on my shiver, looked up into my eyes, and just said, “Oh”

A hug, and a whisper of “I’m sorry, love. I wasn’t thinking”

I nodded, and hugged her back.

“Sorry, but it’s going to take a bit of work from me. Not you, Maz”

I was awake for a long time that night, Maz breathing softly beside me, several voices arguing in my mind while I remembered the feeling of that chunk of tyre smashing into me. Not again. I was so grateful that the morning brought Sunday, and not a working day, because I felt absolutely shit, and everybody quite obviously noticed. Being who they were, they simply did their best to take it in their stride, and we ended up, quite naturally, at the beach, where I fell asleep lying on my towel.

When I came to once again, there were no less than three parasols stuck into the sand beside me, keeping the worst of the sun off, Kul sitting by my head holding out a bottle of cold fizz.

“It worked, then”

“Nghwhat worked?”

“Opening a cold beer next to your head. Told the others it would wake you”

He handed me the bottle, which was plastic.

“Not actually beer, but sounds the same when you pop it. Not sleeping?”

“No, mate. Still sorting out a shitload of baggage”

“Well, make sure you involve Maz in the sorting. She’s still jumping at shadows, is Maz. Sees a work problem, sorts if. Sees one in private life, slaps herself for causing it. So once you’re awake, go and annoy her. Do it with a smile, though. You’re with her tomorrow, anyway, over to Rotto, because I got a text this morning, from Murdo. You’ve got a bit of a bimble to do, but on a schedule. There are a few restaurants who are expecting you, as well as a sort of posh campsite. Murdo said he was trying to arrange a single meeting at the caff by the jetty there, rather than you two having to pedal some ancient piece of crap around the place, but I would still wear casual stuff, Maz included”

I took a sip from what turned out to be lemonade after sitting up.

“When did this come in?”

“While you were getting born again, born to be wild. I don’t think that man Murdo ever stops. Seats are reserved for you tomorrow at noon. Do you get seasick?”

I shook my head as Kul patted my shoulder.

“Off and make her smile again, Mike, while I give these brollies back”

I just nodded, walked into the water and sneaked up on her, surfacing so as to splash her with as much water as I could. Sometimes, being childish is the only option.

She was quiet that night as we settled down, at least to start with, but she was fierce in her hugs.

“Mike?”

“Yes?”

“Can we please get this out of the way? I know what frightens you, and all I want to do is make it a non-issue. Sod it, Maryam! Sorry. Didn’t come out as I meant it. I mean, an issue that doesn’t divide us, not something that is of no importance. I used to use a scooter all the time as a girl, so I am used to riding, and it would be nice if I could, with you, but if it is too painful for you, then it can be a closed issue. I was going to say something about open wounds, but this is confused enough already. Am I making sense?”

I nodded against the top of her head, and she continued.

“Speaking of bikes, do they actually expect us to ride one to this meeting? Ronnie says a lot of the hire bikes there are real wrecks”

“Well, wear something loose and comfy”

“What about tight and comfy?”

“What about it is that I would like to be comfy too, and you on a bike saddle in tight trousers would rather prevent that”

“You don’t like seeing me in tight trousers, Mister M.B.R.?”

“You bloody well know I do, Miss M.B.R., and that’s the problem. If we are going to screw a decent profit from these people, I need to be undistracted”

“I think you meant ‘help them to achieve greater environmental responsibility in the course of their business’, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, something like that. Anyway, late. Spoon with me?”

“Okay”

She faced away from me before wriggling back into my embrace with a sigh.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a rough-stuff bike, so, that stars in the bush thing… I could manage a tent…”

Once again, memories, but this time I pushed them back behind the sheltering presence of the woman in my arms. Sleep still came home late.

Maz drove us to Hillary’s the next morning, parking being arranged in the ferry company’s private yard. The boat was a chunky catamaran with a massive cabin and an open seating area at the rear. Our host crew member explained that some people preferred that as it gave them a chance to spot whales. I did spot a little smirk, though, so I pressed the point, and got a shrug.

“Ah, Mister Rhodes, some people aren’t the greatest sailors, so a bit of fresh air can help. We keep extra supplies of bags in this locker”

“Ah”

“Not quite. Usually more of an ‘Aaaaggghhhhhhh’ in my experience”

Maz shuddered, and our host pointed overhead to a small railed-off area.

“And some people bring their own bikes, which we stick up there. You’ll see later why me and the rest never bring our own, despite the ones there being a bit Lazarus”

Maz looked puzzled, so yet another grin.

“Back from the dead, Miss! In the Bible, there’s a bit where they are asked to open the grave, and they point out there’s going to be a right stink after all the time he’s been dead. That’s the hire bikes, ey?”

“They are that bad?”

“When I first moved over here I did the ferry and hire bike thing. Suspension seat post that sagged in time with the pedalling, and each time it rose back up, it did a quarter turn to the right and back. And the helmets, oh dear, ey? But the place is so lovely you forget all that. Anyway, backsides to seats. You prefer to sit out?”

I looked to Maz, and she nodded. Our host grinned.

“Knows his place already, then? I’ll sort yez a cuppa partway, if you want”

We settled back in the warmth of the sun as the paying crowd filed on, a couple of shiny ‘comfort bikes’ going up onto the railed area. A predictable series of announcements followed, and we began to edge away from the jetty.

Twenty minutes later…

The crossing was fast and remarkably smooth, but the boat moved up and down over quite a wide range as it met oceanic swells, and spray came in waves from behind us. Noises came from the cabin, as several people moved out for the fresher air, and the two bicycles glittered with drops of salty seaspray. I understood, just then, why those in the know accepted the delights of rotating seat posts.

Neither of us had any issues involving paper bags, and to my relief, and no doubt hers, there was a car awaiting us. We had our meeting. It was productive. We rode the ferry back, once again without needing a bag. But we never saw a quokka.

CHAPTER 59
We made a sizeable group in Rod’s workshop, but Rhona had brought some spare folding chairs, so at least we didn’t have to stand. This was Chad’s baby, we had decided as a group, so he was the one on the mobile phone, passing directions to our visitors from the East Coast. Eventually, he walked out to the road.

“Yeah, I’m on the road, and I’m waving… Got you! Kettle will be going on, boys”

The camper van rolled in just as he flicked the switch on Rod’s boiler, and then it was all smiles and handshakes. The two in the van, Brendan and Howie, weren’t as hairy as I had been expecting, but they were all smiles.

“Hiya Chad! Ripper RV, mate! Never missed a bloody beat. Where’s Vern?”

“Got his own job, mate. I’ll introduce you to the rest, and start with Rod, who is the van man”

Rod almost seemed to be blushing, which was odd for him; I could only assume it was in response to that effusive praise. Chad continued round our group.

“Kul, our office head; Mike, our Mister Fixit; Maz, the smoothest of all of us; Rhona, who runs the surf school I told you about”

The taller of the two new friends, Brendan, turned straight to Rod with a smile.

“Get myself round a cuppa, mate, then talk about the spannering? Give the old girl a chance to cool down, then check the fluids. Needs a little bit of attention to the shower head, that’s all”

Rod’s eyes narrowed.

“What sort of attention?”

“Ah, someone looks to have pulled it off the hose, then fixed it, or tried to, with PTFE tape and epoxy. Lad who signed it in off the two Italians missed it, but Howie and me, no way we’re driving all this way without having a good look-see of our own. So, what we did…”

I left the two of them to discuss and compare their tools and joined Rhona, who was being quite precisely questioned by Howie, but as it was almost all about technical aspects of surfing and board-sailing kit, I was quickly lost. What did strike me, though, was that both men seemed very, very switched on. I started to hand round cups of tea, and whispered my opinion to Chad.

“I do believe you have caught us some live ones, mate. Nice one!”

‘Mister Fixit’, indeed. I waved ‘Ms Smooth’ over, and we relaxed as so many of our strands seemed to be coming together nicely.

“Plans for the weekend, Ms M.B.R.?”

“Plan for tomorrow night, actually. Taking a young man out for the evening”

“Who’s that?”

“Dal”

“Mmm?”

“Oh, plus Kul and Geeta, and I assume you. Found some music. It’s just floor spots, as Kul put it, but it’ll give us an idea of what the local scene is. That was what Kul said, anyway”

I sipped my tea while the others rattled through the sort of business discussions I had no part in, until Rhona drove off with Howie to show him her spinnaker or davits or something, and Rod was offering a spare pair of overalls to Brendan so they could jointly service the van. Maz asked the obvious question, and Brendan grinned.

“Oh, in another van, love. Once Howie’s scoped out Rhona’s place, we’re joining one of their groups by Margaret River. Sod camping. Don’t need to sleep in a tent to tell customers about it. Rod says he’s got a fresh van for us, and as soon as Rhona’s back with my bro, we’ll crossdeck all our shit”

Maz gave him her best smile, then looked at Chad, who had a cardboard folder ready. I started to relax: the contract was not something I wanted forgotten.

The two absentees were back just as Brendan and Rod were degreasing their hands and pulling off their overalls, and I saw a very emphatic nod from Howie followed by a grin from his ‘bro’. An hour later, and the two boys were in a fresh van following Rhona’s ‘ute’. As Chad made sure all our paperwork was put away neatly and securely, I looked over to Rod, who grinned.

“Always hard, that bit, leaving someone else to do the work and not ‘help’ them. That fella knows his engines, mate. You caught me a live one, Chad!”

“All part of the service, Rod. Now, some of the surfers were asking about Shark Bay trips, and…”

We left a very happy Rod to finish cleaning down the returned van, and headed in two cars back to our office, where I did the donkeywork of scanning and downloading everything for the report back to Sheffield that Kul was briskly typing. It was a remarkably profitable day.

The following day was devoted to a wash-up combined to a brainstorming session about any possible money-grubbing angles we might have missed. Chad’s suggestion that one of us volunteer to ride on a roof-rack to serve as camp cook for each hire met with zero enthusiasm, but it was a good example of how wide our storm’s range was. It was a second or two after I had finished laughing before the idea hit me.

“Maz?”

“Yeah?”

“That place we visited a while ago, with the posh sausages. Do you think he’d be interested in some fridge packs for the vans?”

Storm Force Profit that day. It also summed up what our business actually did, in finding new opportunities for, well, profits for ourselves, except we didn’t call it that, of course, but more of that stuff about business development and opportunity-matching for our valued clients.

The music session was in a pub, as was just about inevitable. We were joined by Vern, Ronnie and Rufe for that evening, and to my delight, Rufus brought a banjo, which he was rather accomplished at playing. I sang a few songs, as did various other people, and there were guitars and squeezeboxes, whistles and fiddles, while the accents were different, it was, in the end, just like an evening in the Red Lion or Spotted Cow. Even some of the jokes were familiar, and by ‘some’, I mean ‘most’. In a way, it was a second-home-coming, as in a return to a second home, for ‘second home’ had always been Caro’s term for the club. I wondered how Alys was doing just then. It wasn’t a club night, but both girls loved the music, and then, of course, there was the former Ginger Misery.

All of that was bouncing around in the back of my mind because I was still trying to het my head around the visa system, and realising how good the fit was with the woman sitting with one hand casually but warmly lying on my thigh. There was, naturally, a raffle, and Maz looked up at me as I wondered how many dollars-worth of tickets to take.

“Just stick a fiver in, love. We’ll argue about whose money it was if we win. Oh, and depending on what we win, of course”

I expected nothing less, till she turned back to me.

“Picked up some stuff from that camping shock, Mike, for this weekend”

She looked slightly worried, so I smiled and waited on her self-confidence.

“I just have no idea what we’ll really need, so I asked…”

“Go on”

“Well, the bike, yes? I don’t think either of us is really open to that right now, so I thought, well. I have bought a tent, big enough for both of us, and the shop says it’s very lightweight. I have two lightweight mats as well, and Geeta’s got sleeping bags”

“Ah. Where are you suggesting?”

“Just one night, love. It’s ten kilometre walk each way. If someone drops us off at the road, we can walk in for a night, then back out. I get to birdwatch, we both get to stargaze and there’s no vehicle noise or streetlights because it’s on a long-distance footpath. I don’t… I know you’ve done the hill stuff, and I’m completely new to rucksacks and that. I bought a pack as well, but they said my walking shoes were fine”

She squeezed my leg, very gently.

“Ut would be a way of sharing something with you and… It would be a way of sharing something with your wife. I keep thinking of what I said about Alan taking you for a pint, and I was wondering if Caro would be the same. About me”

She looked away, shaking her head, then kept her eyes down as I slowly turned her face back to me with the pressure of one fingertip. A couple of droplets trembled under her lashes, so I wiped them away as gently as I could.

“We’ll never know that, Maz? How could we? All I will say is from Keith and Penny, and they knew her almost as well as I did. They… Penny is very direct about you. She is very clear about us getting together being a good thing, so, yeah. I think you’re probably on the money about Caro”

The voices were back, and they were challenging me to make a choice, one or the other, so I clamped down on them as best I could, took Maryam’s hand and did my damnedest to concentrate on the music. In bed that night, Maz showed me where everything lay on the map, and the reviews about water tanks and ‘dunny paper’. We had a choice of one or two nights for the scheme, but for her first go at backpacking I didn’t want to risk ending up benighted partway there. One night it would be, then.

I did my own little bit of shopping, obtaining a small stove plus some cooking pans, as well as some freeze-dried meals. The guide said ‘water tanks’, but I also made sure I had a decent-sized hydration bladder in my large rucksack, a smaller one in hers, plus multiple bottles, and then, that Saturday morning, Kul dropped us off near Mundaring Weir and our access to the Bibbulman Track. It was a broad dirt road, in essence, but the woodlands that surrounded it were very different to the trimmed and cleared Maggie River surroundings. This place gave a real feeling of ‘wild place’, and while it was scruffy, with broken sight lines and forest debris scattered profusely, I loved it.

We had only about six miles to walk to our site, so we ambled, stopping frequently to allow Maz the chance to identify some of an astonishing range of birds, from a really pretty red parrot she called a rosella, through a very large number of honeyeaters to a range of small olive-green birds that all looked identical to me. I could hear kookaburras in the distance, and rather small-headed and very fat pigeons scuttled around.

“Bronzewings, love. Common as”

We were both gleaming with sweat, as she added white-winged trillers, multiple apparently different robins, golden whistlers and others I simply forget. She was absolutely in ger element--- all my worries about sore feet or chafed shoulders now moot--- and then we were there.

The view had opened out as we moved up the side of a wide valley, several ‘grass trees by the side of the track, and our campsite consisted of a lot of open ground edged by sheets and boulders of granite, along with a ‘facility’ that was water tanks, ‘dunnies’ and picnic table and bench sets under a wide tin roof. We found a space for Maz’s new tent, and I quickly gave up on pegs in the baked ground, using loose lumps pf granite to tie some lines to. The tent was a self-supporting dome, so there was no problem, but it made me feel happier.

It was still early afternoon, so I made us each a mug of tea and settled down with mine at one of the shaded tables, while Maz continued to bliss out over the birds around us. Apart from the occasional bird name, and such things as “Cuppa?”, we had hardly spoken since starting the walk, and that was far from a problem. We were both simply comfortable, each with the other, and as I started snapping interesting bits of rock, or the view across the valley, or simply her backside as she bent over a [pool table] plant or footprint, so I was getting better at telling the voices to find someone else to bother.

We ate an evening meal with a few passing strangers, and watched the sun go down. As the skies filled with stars, we made our way to our pitch, and made love, and that was when I decided that it was indeed the right word for me, and that we had both found our fit.

CHAPTER 60
The tent Maz had bought was, to be honest, rubbish. It was light enough for me to backpack, but if it had encountered a bit of wind, or rain, we’d have ended up sleeping under the camp shelter. What it did have as an advantage was simple: the inner tent was largely netting. Leaving the fly sheet off meant a view of the sky.

“I have a Salewa tent like this, love. Top of the inner is mesh. Saw a picture of one, once, in a book by a round the world cyclist, and went, ‘Ah! I recognise that tent’. Sad person that I am”

“Would it have fitted both of us?”

“God, no! Like a coffin, that tent. Called a Micra, for good reason. Certainly not a two person tent unless said persons were stacked vertically, and put your mind away on that subject”

She chuckled happily at either the thought or the recent memory, and settled her head closer to mine as we looked up at the stars, various creatures making occasional odd noises. I was used to noises at night in Scotland or Wales, but that was mostly the whine of midges, those horrible little bastards. I was just going to make a comment about night-flying bloodsuckers when I realised the sun was up, I was alone .and I had clearly just fallen asleep as we chatted. What great company. She was quickly back, though, with two fresh mugs of tea.

“Morning, Sleepy!”

“Sorry about that”

She snorted round her grin.

“Thing about the tropics, and I mean where I was born, is that the day goes from light to dark very quickly, not a long twilight thing like you have in Europe. First time I’ve seen it in a person, though. You said something about mosquitos, and then you were off. I don’t know how you can sleep in such a flimsy shelter”

“Didn’t you sleep?”

“Yes, but that was different. I had a Mike with me, made all the difference. Drink your tea, and there’s a red-capped parrot in the tree over there”

“You think about birds all the time?”

“Girl needs a hobby…”

Suddenly, her head tilted away in that gesture I was coming to dread, as her self-confidence vanished in an instant.

“You okay, love?”

That was deliberate, but the word was getting easier to use each time it emerged. She shook her head, then smiled again.

“I was going to make a rude joke about not thinking about them all the time, girl needs a hobby, but women can multitask, and then it all went stupid with the voices again. My parents’, that time”

“Shame and dishonour?”

“Harlotry”

“Sorry?”

“One of Mum’s favourite words. Sort of books she reads”

I couldn’t help the laughter, and she simply stared until it had run its course.

“And?”

“Sorry, but it was a lesbian friend of ours, someone took exception to her on an on-line forum. Called her ‘an harlot and an abomination before the Lord’, in those words”

“AN harlot? With an N? Seriously?”

“Yup. Some sort of religious nutter. She wound him up something rotten before he got his account locked”

“Tell more”

“Well, as an example, she said that as a Sapphic, she was a bit out of practice with the harloting, but if he’d like to pop round one evening, she could fancy a bit of abominating”

That brought the laughter I was hoping for, so I hugged her, after setting down both mugs, and then slithered out of the tent to see said new type of parrot and say ‘g’day’ to the other campers. That made me smile yet again, remembering Maz and her very Aussie comment that something was ‘common as’. Ripper, bonzer, she’ll be right, as Kul would no doubt say.

I found the day reprising the standard hillwalker’s dilemma, where there is reluctance to start the downward leg because being high is a delight, and after expending so much effort, why hurry to undo it? The campsite was basic, and the surroundings scruffy, but it still held that wildness and complete lack of traffic.

“Penny for them?”

“Oh, just a mountain thing”

I did my best to get the concept across, and caught her smiling.

“I can understand that. Get as big a reward for the effort as you can. Profit motive in a nutshell, Mister MBR!”

I took a deep breath. Dive in, get the shock of the water over.

“There are other ways, like taking a tent with you, making it a multi-day walk”

She was staring at me, her smile almost there.

“You are talking about you and Caro, aren’t you?”

I dropped my gaze to my knees.

“Yes”

“Go on”

“Ah, there was one walk…”

The memory was there, in full colour.

“There’s a waterfall near the coast in North Wales, Aber Falls. Path cuts across the downfall and then goes out onto the hills, as well as into them. Really wild area, and some of the highest mountains in Wales, and on the top before the highest of them, not the HIGHEST highest in Wales, just in that range, there’s a little shelter, very basic. A rock crevice, really, roofed over, with a door. Just enough room for two people, if they’re very close”

“Like your tent?”

“Bit more room, but not that much more”

“So you walked in, sleeping in the shelter?”

“That was the plan”

“What went wrong?”

“Ah, not wrong as such. Someone else was already there. We had to pitch a tent”

I found myself smiling, to my surprise.

“Caro was never really a climber, but she loved the mountains, and she especially loved really good lightweight kit, so the tent was a wonder. The other couple were older; Pat and Rob. Wedding anniversary tradition for them, they said. And then…”

I astonished myself by bursting into laughter. Maz just waited until I was done.

“Sorry, love: just a silly memory. I’d sneaked a couple of bottles of wine into my rucksack, for a proper evening in the shelter, and so had Rob, but the funny bit is that he’d bought his in the same shop I had bought ours, and he recognised me, and it was all so bloody perfect, even though they’d snaffled the shelter”

I was still grinning when Maz took my hand.

“Thank you, Mike”

“Eh?”

“That’s the first time you’ve really shared a nice memory, one about you and Caro. Thank you”

“Well, it was a wonderful evening”

“Cling to that thought, my love. Rather like the time Alan took me to his Dad’s house”

“Where was that?”

“Singapore. Alan had some black and white photos of the place, and there we were, standing on the street as he lined up a camera to see how the view compared, and suddenly there’s an old Chinese man screaming at us in Cantonese”

She gave her own funny story, of how the man turned out to be a gardener, and how his shouting brought the obvious lady of the house, who took a very different attitude, inviting them in for refreshments and a scan of Alan’s old photographs for her own family’s history.

Maz started laughing again.

“I have no idea of how much that house is worth now, but when Alan showed me some other photos, of some of his grandparents’ married quarters in the UK, well, no comparison. Ooh! Varied sitella!”

I listened for the voices, but for once they were silent, and I was left wondering, rather than dreading, how Caro would have taken to Maryam if that had been possible, and then my own words spoke to me yet again. Not ‘if’ she would have taken, but ‘how’. Knowing my lost love, and thinking of that comment about going for a pint, then yes, beer would have been involved.

We packed up ready for departure, but left that till later in the afternoon, Maz filling her time ticking off and snapping more birds, including a soaring eagle, until it was time to start the amble back to the trailhead. I could just about see me walking the whole trail some day, but shuddered at the thought of how much water we would need to…

‘We’.

Our return was a comfortably slow stroll, the Doctor doing its best through the open woodland as we made our way back to the Weir, and a last ‘al fresco’ cuppa together while we waited for Kul.

A beep of a horn, and a bearded grin, along with a cheeky enquiry as to the remaining levels of my precious bodily fluids, and we were on our way back to Joondalup, or so I assumed.

“Think the boy would like that, Mike?”

“I was thinking about doing more of it, mate, which should answer your question. Just need to carry a lot more water than we would in Wales”

“Mike, we always carry water in Wales, just in a different way: dripping off our waterproofs rather than sitting in bottles”

“Fair point, Mr Butt”

“I thang yew. Now, Geeta’s been cheeky, and in your room. Just for your cossies, okay? We’re eating out tonight, and when I say ‘out’, I mean the public barbie at the beach. Just need to pick up a few last bits on the way, and yes, I am assuming you’ll want a swim. No booze; back to the greasies tomorrow. Murdo’s got us another whale-watcher outfit for Green Dream on Wednesday and…”

If there was a moment I finally decided to say a final farewell to the United Kingdom, that was it.

CHAPTER 61
Things did settle down after that fortnight’s busyness, for the simple reason that even the best management magicians can’t come up with a new and revolutionary idea every day. We almost gave up on the sausages idea, for example, because there was no feasible way to fly out a sample pack to the east coast, and by definition anyone renting a van in Perth was likely to be heading over that way, so wouldn’t exactly be in the area for a repeat purchase.

Instead, Chad had a word with Rhona, who was definitely SWMBO in that business, and breakfast packs for their camping sessions started being ordered from a former miner. And Maz bought a helmet.

That is such a short sentence for a very big thing, an act that left me with a return of the horrors for quite some time, until she simply booked a campsite near our little holiday retreat in Cowaramup. Dal seemed to have moved on from his crush, and was happily making jokes about Maryam’s choice in tents.

“Why all the net, Maz?”

She looked slightly embarrassed as she answered.

“No windows in a tent, Dal. I can’t see what’s out there”

“What would be there? You know drop bears aren’t real”

“I don’t know. I just don’t like not being able to see out”

Geeta murmured something about everyone seeing in, and I swear I could have made toast on my lover’s cheeks. There was more to her worries than fictional carnivores, so I did my best to change the subject, and switched to planning our week’s social activities, which were starting to get rather numerous as we made regular trips to the folk club, Vern’s climbing place and Statham’s Quarry. I doubted I would ever get comfortable with the ‘Aussie Bolt’ idea, but Dal seemed happy as his leading moved up a few grades.

Something that made me particularly happy with him and his father was their treatment of the outdoors as a gestalt, a whole. Too many gym-based climbers emerge from their indoor venues to treat real crags as just another climbing wall, never raising their eyes to the hills and other delights around them. That had never been a problem with Penny and Keith, or myself and Caro, because we simply adjusted to the weather. Going to be bright and sunny? A weekend of shorter, harder routes in the Peak. Not sure, or likely to be wet? North Wales, for long routes on the hills in gaiters and waterproofs. And, of course, Caro would be enjoying whatever wildlife was around us, just like Maz.

No, the Butts were definitely my sort of people when outdoors. They saw the whole of it, which was the entire point of going there? One of the climbing club in the L place had been a keen downhill skier, and he told stories of ski groups missing everything from interesting birds to groups of red squirrels, because their entire focus was on their fun and the booze that went with it. Empty souls, empty lives.

I spent the days before our planned weekend away hunting, in the engineering sense, trying to find one slot to settle into, but in the end I simply loaded the rack and a couple of hard cases borrowed from our Van Man, and we were off to Gracetown on the Beemer. Maz took a little while to settle down on the pillion, clinging tightly to my waist, but as we cruised down the main road she began to relax, sitting more upright and simply leaving her hands on my hips rather than limpeting herself to my back. We weren’t exactly in the countryside for ages, as what felt like ribbon developments followed the suburbs of Perth.

Eventually the buildings thinned out, and as we waited at a junction for a turning off the main highway for a quieter road, I called to her over my shoulder.

“Done it yet?”

“Done what?”

“I could say ‘Dunsborough’, but I meant have you spotted it?”

“Spotted the harrier?”

“Oh, you so and so!”

It made me smile, and I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her laughing, so that was a positive. I was still watching the traffic obsessively, which was one reason I was heading to a quitter road, but we were still in one piece thus far, and I started to relax a little, until we approached Dunsborough, which was heaving.

I skirted the town and rode up to the higher ground on Caves Road, before pulling over to ask her a question. The answer was the one I had expected, so I turned off once more to make my way to that sea stack for her rare bird fix., before we were once again heading along Caves Road for the camp site, which was well outside the town or village of Gracetown. They had our booking ready, and a chirpy site warden showed us around the place.

“Camp kitchen here, mate. Gas barbie. All the plates and that belong to some of our regulars, but they won’t mind as long as you wash them up properly. Your pitch is over here…”

There were an awful lot of people about, and I could see portable barbecues being set up, so I followed the rest of what seemed like half of Perth and bought a pack of meat from the warden. I had beers in a cool bag with a couple of freezer blocks, so we were sorted for that evening. I looked at the crowds, smiling at Maz.

“Not like that place we walked to, Ms MBR. Still want to pitch the inner tent only?”

I got the duck of the head that told me she was blushing, followed by a shake.

“Not this time. No dogs around, as well, so it will be a bit safer”

A story for another time, I realised, but it might explain one of her fears. She looked back up with a smile.

“When I booked, they stressed ‘no pets’, because it’s a nature reserve. Round the Sugarloaf is full of quendas”

“Full of what?”

“Quendas. Type of bandicoot. Like a giant shrew”

“How giant is giant?”

“Oh, without including the tail, about half a metre long”

I started laughing, and waved her worries back down.

“Is there anything you don’t know about Aussie wildlife?”

She grinned, in a much better mood after the dog hints.

“I can only do my best to extend the boundaries of my knowledge! We going swimming soon?”

I nodded.

“Tent up first, meat in one of the fridges. Offski?”

“Offski!”

The Doctor was blowing, and the little beach was busy with surfers and general weekender swimmers, but we found somewhere to dump our towels, as I slipped the lock through both helmets and the back wheel. Maz surprised me by producing a waterproof bag on a lanyard.

“It’s for cameras, Mike, but I thought it would do for keys and stuff”

As brilliant as ever. We got wet, then dry, the keys stayed safe, and the local multipurpose village store had some salads and other stuff to ass a few more food groups to our fleshy feast. I added a couple of bottles of local dry white and a couple of ice lollies, and we simply sat next to the bike as the sun moved towards the horizon, at peace with the world.

Dinner that evening was a challenge, but we managed to find enough space at the gas range
Some of the other campers had incredible feasts, and I watched in awe as one oriental woman, with an older husband and two kids, produced so many dishes they called out to the rest of us to come and eat some of it before it spoiled.

Beer was drunk, then wine, and we ended up chatting with the family, possibly because of our similar pairings.

“Phil and Val, mate, and Tran and Lachlan over there with the other kids”

“Ah, Mike and Maryam”

“We’re from Mundaring. Where are you from?”

Maz laughed at that.

“Funnily enough, we were up your way a little while ago, doing a stage of the Bibbulmun, or rather a walk to a campsite there. Anyway, he’s from England, and I’m from Malaysia”

“Oh, right. Val’s from Vietnam, but that’s ages ago. How do you know Rod?”

“Sorry?”

“Canning Vans, ey? That’s either his Beemer, or I’m losing it”

I took over, explaining in a general way what we did for the Van Man, and Phil nodded.

“Heard about some of that, from him. I like to do some offroading, but him and that bloody big bastard, well, not my sort of bike for the rough stuff. Did he tell you about…?”

Phil was off on an anecdote about one of Rod’s now infamous frankenbikes, and as I listened, with the occasional appropriate grunt or other response, I understood how close he was skirting being a bore. Collar strangers, talk at them non-stop, watch their eyes glaze over. This was different, though, and I realised in the end that he was simply so full of life that he needed to share it as a gift to the world. I understood him a little better when he declared he ran a taxi firm.

Gifts, but to captive audiences.

“Yeah, we come down here a few times a year. Big one’s at Chrimbo. If you think Val’s pushed the boat out this weekend, you need to see what she does for that one. Don’t always get lucky with the company, though. Had a few times where people just come over, fill a couple of plates, and then just bloody well bugger off. Call that rude, we do”

Tran held up a hand.

“Tell them about the two ladies, Dad!”

“What? Oh yeah! That was exactly what we like. Was two women, one of them a Pom, the other a Canuck. Pom girl was on a pushie, riding over to the East she said”

He paused to take a swig of beer, then shook his head.

“While later I had a job down to the airport, ey? Pick up? Grabbed a cuppa from inside, checked the arrivals board, and she’s walking past me heading for check-in, her bike in a big cardboard box. Looked very different”

He turned to Val, taking her hand, and she smiled up at him.

“You told me about it, love”

“Yeah, but not these two. Mike, Maz, she looked half-starved. Must have lost about a third of her body weight, and burned to buggery by the sun. Wished Val was there, eskie full of food, whatever. Feed her back up. What a way to travel, ey?”

I shrugged.

“Well, you’ve got a café near Rod’s called the PBP”

I gave them all a potted description of what Geoff called ‘The French Ride’, and watched their eyes widen.

“Well, I never knew that, mate! Sounds insane. I’ll stick to engines, ey?”

I could argue with that, of course, but simply smiled. Val wanted to know more, of course.

“Is tomorrow a beach day for you, or the wineries>”

I slipped an arm over my woman’s shoulders, as kangaroos moved among the tents.

“Nope. We’re going up the coast a little way to some cliffs we know. We’re climbers”

Lachlan sat up at that.

“With all the ropes and clip things?”

Maz answered “Yes, exactly”, and his eyes lit up, but there was no way I was taking someone else’s child out, especially as I had no spare kit. My lover made the obvious suggestion of Vern’s indoor place, and I caught Lachlan tapping rapidly at his mobile phone.

Just as Maz and Val were heading into a recipe sharing session, the boy called out for everyone to look, and I just knew what I was going to see,

‘Rock Star’, for god’s sake.

I still submitted my immigration application about two hours after we got home. It took an hours for Maz to confirm that I was planning to stay, and what happened in the other ninety minutes was entirely between us, and private.

CHAPTER 62
“Mister Rhodes?”

I raised a hand, feeling absurdly childish as I did so.

“Here”

The bald man smiled and waved towards a side door.

“I’m Simon Burns. Just in here, and we can see how this goes. It’s all set up. Can I assume you speak and read English?”

I found myself laughing, in an absolutely genuine way.

“Some of my friends might not agree, as I was living in Yorkshire before I came here”

“You don’t sound very Yorkish to me”

“Ah, no. I’m from southern England. People I were workin’ with, ‘appen”

I dropped the cod accent, now feeling absolutely stupid, and followed him into the little room, where he ushered me to a seat, taking one facing me. H shuffled some papers for a few seconds, then smiled again.

“I am tempted to ask how you cheated on the written test, Mr Rhodes, but I actually think that was down to hard studying, so congratulations. This is actually the hard bit, and as I am, after so many years in the job, a great believer in the ‘Tell me a story’ approach, all that work will be yours for now. So, tell me that story: why do you want to live here?”

That brought out the grin that I had been worrying about. Trying not to sound flippant, I spread an arm.

“Why would any sane person want to live anywhere else?”

“And what reasons can you give me for that answer?”

He teased out a surprising number of confessions, including my opinion of ‘Aussie bolts’.

“I actually watched that video, Mr Rhodes. My son is a regular at that facility. Not my thing, I am afraid. Now…”

Why was I there in the first place, who invited me, my finances, odd little snippets of information that seemed irrelevant at the time, coming back to them later and using them to open up another line of enquiry. He was clearly very, very switched on, and I was starting to worry.

“What family do you have back in the United Kingdom, Mr Rhodes? Do you hope to bring them here to join you, if the decision is a favourable one in your case?”

“Ah. No. I have no family left”

He looked up at that last word, and I saw an eyebrow rise a little.

“Tell me a story, Mr Rhodes. Please”

I shook my head, trying to find the right words. Deep breath.

“I was an only child, both parents now deceased. I have some cousins left somewhere, but we were never close”

“Wife? Children?”

Ouch. If he wanted a story, he wouldn’t get one.

“I am a widower. My wife was pregnant when she died. If you don’t mind, I would prefer no to open those wounds today”

He looked down again, head shaking slightly as he made a note, then looked me in the eye once again.

“I was obviously aware of your being a widower, but that second bit…. May I call you Michael?”

“It’s usually Mike”

“Mike it is, then. I am so, so sorry about that, and there was me prattling on about my son. I can pause the interview, if you’d prefer. Your eyes are a bit damp, and this is not a criminal investigation”

I drew a long breath, trying to feel some benefit from it, then shook my own head.

“No, Mr Burns”

“Simon, if you’d prefer”

“Simon, then. Thing needs doing, best done quickest£

“Ripping a plaster off, ey?”

“Ey indeed. I have a couple of sort of nieces over there, children of some good friends, but that’s all. Caro’s… We have other friends back there, and they look after her for me. Her… Her grave. There are colleague’s in our head office in Sheffield, but that’s all”

“How do you keep in touch>”

“Skype call every so often. Pain in the usual trying to match times, of course”

I chuckled, as a thought struck me.

“A funny thought, Mike?”

“Oh, that thing you asked when I came in. Just wondered what my friends’ kids would say if they were in my place. They’re Welsh speakers”

“Ah. Not an approved language for W.A., or the Commonwealth of Australia as a whole”

“What about, and I have to ask this, New South Wales?”

That brought an absolutely genuine grin.

“To recycle your first answer, Mike, why would ant sane person want to live over there?”

He turned serious once more, asking some rather more pointed questions, then blindsided me.

“My own father was a Ten Pound Pom, Mike. Good British stock, as Australia always was. How do you feel about the other cultures being allowed to settle here?”

“Um, well, I have been living with some close friends since I came here, and they are on the same pathway to citizenship. They’re Sikhs”

My mouth wasn’t listening to instructions, for it followed that comment with, “And my partner’s Malaysian. Does that answer your question?”

“Admirably, Mike. I already knew about Ms Rahman, of course”

I found my jaw dropping, but he just grinned again.

“That video, Mike. English rock star and his lady, ey? I showed it to some colleagues the other day, and one of them said he’s got her case. Nothing sinister. Ah, sod this. I’ve covered most of it, so do you remember a question in the quiz, about how we can make Oz successful, and so on?”

“Oh, indeed. That was one of the ‘if you can’t guess the answer from all the clues we’ve loaded it with’ questions”

“Do you remember the right answer?”

“Something about working and paying taxes?”

“That’s the one. There’s another bit to that, which is what you do. You pay your taxes, and I know that you do because that is part of the background checks. You and your colleagues take it further, though, by helping others increase theirs. Oh, that was me done a while ago, and yes, no issues, welcome to Australia, et cetera, but keep that quiet till it’s official, ey? Now, would you by any chance be free for a couple of hours?”

That floored me, with it’s casual revelation that I was successful in my citizenship application. Just like that…

“Er, yes. I am. I had no idea how long this would take, so I booked the whole day off. What do you need, or is it more a case of what are you asking for?”

Another happy grin.

“I really don’t know if this qualifies as nepotism, but my boy recognised you. Not at the climbing place, I mean, though he has seen you there. He saw you at work, with all the big knobs at the Rotto ferry”

“He works for Murdo?”

“First name terms, oh my. No, Beau works on one of the whale-watching boats, so we heard all about the green fuel changes, and that, in this state, is a true religion of sorts. Climate change is big and nasty news for Oz, so all the green stuff you have been doing is big news of a different kind. What I’d like is for you to have lunch with my wife”

He paused, just for a second, in an obvious tease, before adding, “And her boss”

A chuckle, or a snigger; it was debatable which it was.

“Don’t think it’d be a good look for me to go for a bite with a bloke I’ve just done a citizenship interview with”

“So what does your wife--- sorry; that came out a bit rude. How can I help your wife, Simon?”

“Simple as, Mike. She’s also a government employee, but where I work for the Commonwealth bit—what the Yanks would call the feds--- she works for W.A. itself. She handles infrastructure management, or at least her office does. She has a brief on schools. Not the teaching, ey? Lots of schools. Lots of school buses. Lots of school kitchens. Now, I didn’t want to spring that on you before I did the chat, because it would have looked sus as. So can I suggest you see if one of your colleagues is free to do point, and Colleen’s boss can do the same. Bit more arms’ length for the three of us”

I felt my jaw drop once again.

“Um, Simon…”

“Yeah?”

“How many schools are we talking about?”

“No idea, Mike. Oh, and you’re probably thing I mean Parth, and no, they want to talk State level”

Ye gods.

“Mike, let’s finish the formal bits off, and then you ring your office, ey? I need a signature…”

I left the little room in a state of shock, passing a couple who looked Chinese, the woman elbowing the man, clearly worried by my expression.

Western Australia’s schools. Potentially all of them.

Once again, ye gods. Green Dream wouldn’t have the capacity, or would they? I found a quiet spot outside the building, a long set of square blocks amid some troughs obviously meant for flowers or shrubbery, and my mind was off on Monty Python silliness until I mentally slapped it. Phone. Office.

“Hiya Mike! How’d it go?”

“Bloody well, I do believe, Ronnie. Who’s in today? As in right now?”

“Ah, Kul and Maz. Both said they wouldn’t be able to sit easy on a visit, what with you being grilled and that?”

“Could you transfer me, then? Got some business news”

The phone buzzed and clicked.

“Cool butt”

If it were at all possible, he was getting worse.

“It’s Mike, and that is going to come back and bite you one day”

“Bite me on the butt? I should be so lucky!”

“Could you call Maz over and set it on speaker?”

“You sound out of breath. How did it go—hang on; she’s here. Just switching… There”

“Can you both hear me?”

Positive answers from each, but Maz immediately started saying, ‘Tell! Tell!”

“Okay—it looks like it’s a ‘Yes’ from them”

I held my phone away from my ear until the shouting died down, and then called out that it was minor news, and I had more. Maryam’s voice came through.

“I’ve got my hand on his mouth for a second, Mike, but he can still hear. What’s up?”

I ran through the links between so many people, and when I got to Colleen’s role, I had absolute silence at the other end. Kul eventually broke it.

“So we have a lunch appointment. Where at?”

“I couldn’t think of anywhere except that sausage place Maz took me to”

“We’ll meet you there, then. Don’t drop the bike. Oh, and Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you confirm one thing before I e-mail Sheffield”

“If I can”

“This is all the schools in Perth?”

“Um, not exactly”

“How exactly, then?”

“The State, Kul”

A few seconds of silence, before a soft, but very clear, “Fuck me”

CHAPTER 63
There was a place to leave the bike at Soapy Joe’s, just behind Kul’s car. I did the multiple lock thing, and slipped into the back seat behind Maz.

“No butts today, mate, even if they are cool. Did you mail head office?”

“Not yet. Wanted to make sure we can tie this one down before potentially looking stupid. Talk me through it again, please”

“Nothing more than I’ve already said, mate. My interviewer’s wife and her boss. Oh, and their son is a regular at Vern’s place. The wife works for the education department or whatever it’s called, the State one. Oh; their son works for one of the whale-watching companies, so we’ are more than on their radar. Oh, yes: my man said his mate’s got your case, love, but he was absolutely ‘need to know, allowed to know’ on that subject. Now, I need to stay a pace back from this one, because of hubby, so I’ll keep my gob shut after the pleasantries, if that’s okay”

Kul gave a sharp nod.

“Let’s go to work”

There only three of us, two in suits, one a woman, one in bike boots and another in a turban, but we did our best. As we entered, Des’ face lit up.

“Maz, Mike! And the head honcho as well—what have I done? Got it! You heard I’ve sourced some real boerewors, ey? Or was it the roo pies? So what can I get you?”

Maz was looking at the ornate ‘specials’ board, forehead slightly wrinkled.

“Could I try a berry whatever sandwich?”

“I can do you a boerie roll. Like a hotdog. Meat’s beef, minimal fat content, so best leave the snags uncut. You two?”

We both asked for the same, as well as tea, and Des nodded to a corner of the dining room, where a man and woman sat, both dressed in ‘smart office’.

“Your colleagues are over there. Asked for you when they came in, Mike. Look a bit bloody Fed Tax Bastard to me, to be honest. Not like your boat people. Oh, Kul: this is where you CAN say ‘she’ll be right’ without sounding like a tit”

“You wound me, Des!”

“Ah, I know how you mean it, so no worries, ey? They’ve just ordered pie floaters, so I’ll bring it all over in one go”

I wondered what on Earth a ‘floater’ was, but followed the old adage of opening gob, saying something stupid and proving your own stupidity, and simply followed the other two over to the table set aside for our ‘colleagues’. The woman looked up first, smiling straight at me.

“Mike Rhodes?”

“Yes. Colleen Burns? You recognised me?”

“A certain video, Mr Rhodes. In which you were wearing rather less clothing”

Her friend nearly spat out his tea, while I mentally sent for some virtual popcorn for what was clearly going to be a dominance battle between her and Mr Butt. She was seamlessly into the introductions, though, before he could get any momentum.

“This is Bobby Nguyen, my boss. I believe my bloke gave you some idea of what we were looking for. Grab seats; here’s the munchies and brews”

We settled ourselves as Des dished out three very large hot dog-style items and a couple of shallow bowls holding meat pies sitting on what looked very like mushy peas. If that was traditional Aussie cuisine, no wonder Shaun had adjusted so well to Sheffield. Bobby called me staring, and smiled.

“Real traditional Ocker food, this. Supposed to originate in South Australia, but we can ignore that bit”

I nodded.

“Looks very like one of ours, which is just called ‘Pie and Peas’ because it’s, well, a pie. With peas. Mushy ones”

Des was back with pots of tea, and his head was shaking.

“Not the same, Mike. Mushy peas are dried marrowfats, while this is a different sort of pea altogether, and it’s meant to be soup. Got to keep it thick, though, so the pie doesn’t just sog into the liquid. I’m getting some black peas in next week, though, so it’ll be carlings and…”

He was off on some strange description of legume-based cuisine, and most of us were lost, though Colleen was asking questions that must have been relevant, seeing how Des was responding. In the end, he looked at the pots, grinned, and said he was off to replace them, as they’d be stewed. As he walked away, Bobby looked straight at me once more.

“I’m officially talking to Mr Butt here, Mike, but as you were the one speaking to Colleen’s old fellah, so I am keen to include you, if we can do so without casting any shade on your citizenship application, or indeed Maryam’s. Beau, I am informed, says you have a neat way of cutting through layers of crap without coming across as nasty or patronising, so please: give us your take on the idea”

I settled my thoughts into some sort of order, then nodded.

“Simon was quite clear about separation of State from Commonwealth, and that you are both State people. Biggest Aussie State, about a third of the whole country, so a lot of geography to cover. A lot of schools just in Perth, and then there’s the rest of WA. I am looking at Kul here, but apart from one other staffer, this is what we have in terms of available people. Green Dream is expanding, but a state-wide influx would strain them as well… What’s the joke?”

Bobby stopped chuckling, and held out a hand for a shake.

“Mike, we have a tradition here of what we call the ‘fair go’. Means letting someone have a try at something big, and not looking down on them if they don’t pull it off. I think you got a slightly garbled message from Simon. Talbot and Swan--- Kul?”

“Yessir?”

“You were thinking of Flinders and Swan, weren’t you?”

Familiar grin.

“Guilty!”

“Right. Well, Mike here was just setting himself up for his own ‘fair go’, but we came prepared with enough background info to see us right. No, we are not talking about you going on a school run to the RFO every day… Mike, out there, the stations are sometimes miles from the road. Parents drop their kids off at a bus stop, and kids are picked up the same way. We have a lot of school buses for that. We are not, as I said, looking for you to do all that. What we ant is you on board as consultants. We have our own paper pushers, and there are several biofuel people we are assessing on a regional hub basis”

Kul looked relieved.

“Glad I didn’t send that e-mail to Sheffield, now. Would have been a bit embarrassing, to say the least”

Bobby nodded enthusiastically.

“Only reason I was sniggering, Mike. Sorry if it came across wrong. What we would like from you is a model process, tailored to fit with our existing accounting system. Would that work for you?”

Kul was on the ball before me.

“So what you want is for us to sell you a package? Not oversee its delivery?”

Colleen was shaking her head now.

“Not quite, Kul. What we are after is something we can fit into a particular niche in our budget. We don’t want to buy a package, we want a licence for one. Expenditure control and cost centred systems. You write us a package, you deliver some training, we pay you an initial fee. You then get a regular licence fee, and we get you on call if there’s a problem. Our funding system works in silos, so we have money in one pot but none in another, and this system plays on that”

Maryam was nodding and smiling at the same time.

“Chad will be best at sorting that one out, but could you answer a quick question?”

“Go ahead”

“What does RFO mean?”

Colleen tutted, and turned to Bobby.

“Go on, you. Explain it to her”

The man grinned.

“Some people talk about the real rural Australia, others about the Red Centre. Lots of us just prefer RFO. Right, er, effing Outback”

He turned a little more serious.

“Another phrase is ‘Beyond the Black Stump’. People get deceived by us being one country, but we’re a whole bloody continent as well. WA even declared independence a couple of times, so it’s a very different world RFO”

Colleen coughed for attention.

“Before he gets all misty-eyed, there’s another aspect we’d like to look into. Simply put, if this works out, would you be happy to be consulted on other issues? It’s what my boy said, Mike: you see things clearly, and that’s a precious talent”

“What sort of other issues?”

An even brighter grin from Bobby.

“Who knows? Be fun as, finding out, ey?”

We finished our lunch, which turned out to be a little spicy, Maz nodding in eyebrows-raised appreciation, details were exchanged, and Colleen ‘prattled on’, as Simon had put it, about their son.

“That video, ey? Beau says it’s the problem they all want to solve. Calls it ‘Rhodes’ Reach’, so you’ve left a legacy here already. We’re making a proper sandgroper out of you”

Bobby snorted at that, before dropping another bombshell.

“And Mike? My sister sends her best”

“Sorry?”

“I believe you met her family near Cowaramup? Old fellah does cabs?”

“Val? Bloody hell, is there anyone in Perth who doesn’t know everyone else?”

“Ah, it’s an isolation thing, Mike. Most isolated capital city in the world, we are. We look after our own. The only big city, right on the edge of everything, so we still act like it’s a small town. Also, if you’re in the fuel trade, even peripherally, then transport businesses are going to notice you. I know Rod up at Canning as well; went to school with him. He gave me a very full account of what you’ve done for him. Made my research a bloody sight easier than it usually is”

He turned serious again, business head firmly in place.

“We have rules on tendering, Mike, when we employ outside people, private industry, ey? This way, I see a few other possibles, but when I sign off on the deal, I have a full dossier of testimonials and that to justify it. Phil’s a bloody good bloke, and I will leave it there before I get too personal about our family. Expect to see the kids down that climbing place along with Colleen’s”

Kul looked up from his plate to explain that it was a local term for local people, as he put it, then spoilt the effect by corpsing. Too much even for his sense of humour, it seemed. Papers were exchanged, along with phone numbers and e-mail addresses, and after a quick call to his office, we had a meeting with Bobby and his crew arranged for the following week. I did ask for a couple of favours, which were to see both a school kitchen and a bus garage, on the basis that I might see something to trigger a fresh idea, which left Kul sniggering once more, as Maz quite casually sat with her hand on my thigh.

That weekend, we had a full team camping weekend at the Gracetown site, complete with more routes on the granite. I was living once again, fully alive, especially when lowering a surprisingly sweary Maz down from a toprope problem she had failed on six times before finally cracking it. Once back at the Butts’ place, with not a word to each other, we each started a property search on the internet.

I knew full well that there would be another shoe to drop at some point, we would deal with that together, whatever it might be.

CHAPTER 64
The double garage had been a sound choice. When we had narrowed our search to a couple of properties, that had been the clincher. Our estate agent (neither of us believed in imaginary estates) had been full of humour, repeating a phrase I had heard more than once before.

When the original houses were built, he said, you’d sometimes see your next door neighbour. As time went on, that compressed to hearing them, and with the current developments, where there was what seemed like six feet or so between your own eavesdrop and next door’s guttering, you could just about smell those across the property line.

I had, in effect, been put through a crash course in Australian house styles, including the ‘Queenslander’, in which the inhabitants didn’t sleep above their livestock but over their vehicles.

Once again, I was blessing my luck in the friends I had found. Once our citizenship had been sorted, and the ensuing hangovers had eased, we had indulged in a Skype session with the Woodruffs, who seemed to have an absolutely huge conservatory from what I could see on screen. I had really struggled to see any trace of the former miserable drunk I had known, as she simply slumped against her man and made rude jokes.

“So you’re staying, then?”

“Steph, if you spent a little time here, you’d want to do the same!"

“Aussie bolts, Rhodes”

“Midges, Woodruff”

“Snakes, spiders, sharks, crocodiles, octopuses, Rhodes”

“Fair point, Woodruff”

“So what’s the plan?”

I dragged my serious head back to me.

“We have a couple of places we like, but it’s the chain thing”

“Plus all your worldly goods in Sheffield?”

“In a nutshell”

“So it’s just the chain, then”

“Sorry?”

She had waved a hand at her husband.

“Sometimes, Geoff surprises me. No, Kul, put your mind away! Not like that. Well, sometimes like that…. Where was I? Oh yes. Geoff had words with Keith and Penny, and they asked Bets in Sheffield, and she spoke to your big boss. They’re springing for a shipping container. Sea freight, aye?”

I was dumbstruck, but she continued.

“We have four families, plus friends, who will be happy to clear your house for you, so you better tell me where you keep the inflatable sheep”

Kul muttered something about the Welsh, she made a bad joke about a leisure centre, and I was struck once more by how happy she was, how utterly comfortable in her skin and with her lover. One sharp pang, one memory of dimples, and then Maz squeezed my knee. Steph was still going.

“It’s T.O.R.R., C3 baggage, so---- start again, woman. Australia and the UK have similar Customs schemes for moving home: transfer of residence relief. Used to be covered in a book of instructions, volume C3, so ‘C3 Baggage’. You make a declaration, container goes to a Customs shed for a look over by their Cussers, then as long as there’s nothing dutiable, and it’s all used stuff, that’s it. My boss used to run a baggage repository. Our plan is to clear your place, you sign off what needs signing, container goes on ship, and sits in the warehouse until you’re in the hew house. Oh, and T.O.R.R. covers motor vehicles as well, so your bike can come over with your sex toys”

Kul sniggered yet again

“Some people think motor bikes ARE sex toys”

“Yeah, but petrol stinks. Mine runs on ale and curry… Bit too far even for me, that. Moving on: does that suit, Mike?”

I looked at Maz, and she nodded, a little wide-eyed, and Steph cheered.

“A man who understands about sharing! Yay! And I—what, Geoff?”

That last wasn’t abrupt, but simple acknowledgement of her man. He waved at the screen, and by proxy us.

“Just realising that if I point at your image on screen, it isn’t like waving at you. Maryam: we’re making plans for Mike, but what is your own situation?”

“Not much to tell. I…”

She took a few deep breaths, then tried to smile at the camera.

“In short, I’m a widow. My late husband and I were like so many in Singapore in that we rented. Big apartment block, eleventh floor. I have stuff in storage there, but not much. I say all that, and I start to feel like I’m sponging off Mike”

Geoff looked sharply at his wife, then back at his own webcam.

“This place was Steph’s, her family’s, yeah? I was renting in Horsham, so I brought nothing to the place”

Steph sat up a little.

“You brought yourself, love. More than enough”

“Absolutely, my love. Anyway, Maz, what I meant was that it doesn’t matter what you bring as long as you bring yourself”

It was my turn to squeeze her knee and smile, and we had closed that chat with some much firmer planning.

My container had arrived a month later, and to my surprise, my house went in only two more. Once it was all sorted and the proceeds banked, we started looking again, because of course the place we had been hoping for had already been sold. We stuck with our chosen estate agent, though, and she came up trumps with a property in Scarborough. Not a huge expanse of land, but not so close to next door so as to trigger our olfactory sense. And it had a double garage, a couple of patches of lawn, a patio ‘for the barbie’ and a reasonably short ride to the beach, which, oddly, was called Brighton. Our saleswoman had mentioned that the beaches there had parking issues, and Maz had given her the sunniest of smiles.

“We have a bike!”

Deal done, contracts et cetera all done, and then we started the job of transferring my now-cleared-through-Customs stuff from container to house.

Of course Rod had a licence to drive heavy goods vehicles, and knew a man who knew a man with a truck, and rather than a never-ending process of gradual transferral of belongings from box to building. Rod simply left the container on our new driveway for 25 hours while our entire staff, plus families, emptied, transferred, reassembled and stashed my previous life’s detritus.

Of course we had a barbie!

My old bike looked a little sad, having sat unused for far too long, but as it was neither registered nor insured in Australia, I resisted the temptation to have a little run out on it and simply added to my list of ‘Things To Do When I Get The Time’.

I also had to spend a few minutes alone in the bathroom, as my little voice was throwing a major tantrum about betrayal and bad faith, abandonment and adultery, but I was finding that easier to deal with each day I woke next to Maryam.

Her own belongings arrived the Friday after mine, and they were minimal, only needing the two of us for the transfer, and mostly consisting of one double bed, a couple of armchairs, several bookshelves, some seriously expensive cooking gear, a collection of telescopes that surprised me it their variety, books (not all about birds) and clothing.

There were also photo albums.

Maryam looked at me as we found places on the now-vertical shelves for her books, and winced.

“Alan loved stargazing, and he was also very into what he called ‘proper’ photographs. The Pentax and the old Leica are his, as is the reflector telescope. I suppose… Was. Were his”

I took her in my arms, looking past her head to one of the bedrooms.

“Both beds as well, love. Am I right?”

She nodded into my chest.

“Feels like betrayal, doesn’t it?”

“Yup. Having the same thoughts. He’d take me for a pint, remember?”

Another swaddled nod.

“Could we be slobby tonight, please? This is so… We need to relax ourselves, lay those ghosts”

“Shut the voices up?”

“Exactly. We pop up to Coles, get some wine and beer in, and there’s an Italian place down the road who can do us a couple of messy pizze”

“Being very proper and exact with the Italian plural, Ms MBR”

“Well, get the OCD bit out of the way, eat at the Italian place and we keep our hands free for later. Don’t mess the photos up with grease”

She drew in a long, slow breath, then let it sigh out.

“I want to talk you through my life, love. Are you up to that? I think we need to”

In the end, the Italian restaurant was full, it being a Friday evening, so we ordered the pizzas for collection, and I took the Beemer up to the supermarket to top up our booze supply. The ‘pizze’ were waiting for me on my return, along with a large mixed salad. Maz had set up my laptop so that it ran through the TV screen, and when she saw that I had noticed the link, she winced.

“Paper photos, love, but I also have some discs with pictures on. If we look at some of our past, each of us, it might help shut our consciences up. I am so nervous…”

The pizzas went quickly, along with half of the salad, and then we made sure our hands were clean before Maz picked up three of her albums and a couple of discs, one of which she settled in the DVD drive under my, our, TV.

“Some old photos, Mike, and then some of my own. Some duplication”

We settled back into the settee after I had poured a glass each, and she opened the first album.

“These are photos taken by Alan’s grandfather, and some by his Dad. Singapore…”

She pulled her own laptop to her, opening a maps page, and started talking through the pictures.

“This was the family home, in the Wessex Estate”

The pictures were almost all monochrome, but she pulled up a ‘street view’ of the place as it was in our time, while showing me a black and white still that clearly showed the same building.

“Alan said that the window there with the columns was his Dad’s bedroom. Apparently the tree you can see in the pic had a couple of swings on”

“Boys’ tree to climb?”

She actually laughed out loud, as if taken by surprise.

“Oh dear me no! Covered in ants, our trees. No fun at all. Now this is…”

She seemed to relax as we worked through the old shots, and then turned to another album.

“This is one of Al’s. He wanted to get as many comparison pics as possible, finding out where his grandfather had taken the picture and then duplicating it as best he could, so of course he took two cameras, the Leica with black and white film and the Pentax for colour. This is the house again…”

I could see her hands starting to tremble as she picked up the third album.

“These are pictures of his Dad and grandparents on holiday. There was a leave centre called Sandycroft, where all the Forces families would go for beer, bingo and beach, and as I told you…”

She nearly dropped the album, so I took it off her and started my own process of turning the pages, knowing already that there would be no matching album of Alan’s photos, because he hadn’t survived to take them. Maryam showed me the ‘street view’ available on the beach, the old NAAFI bar clearly unchanged, and then closed the album with a bang before switching on her own disc-based photo show.

I suspect she was having her own voices harangue her, and from the set of her jaw, they were particularly strident, especially when she arrived at pictures of their wedding. Her voice was as matter-of-fact as she could make it, with a string of variations on “And this is…” until she simply broke down and wept.

I held her as she sobbed, the TV screen showing what was very clearly a bloody happy couple, her husband looking almost astonished at his good luck, and as she calmed down and returned to me, I took the remote and switched off the disc feed. My laptop was within reach…

“This, my love, was on top of Foel Grach. You can see her dimples well in this one”

CHAPTER 65
My mouth was sticky the next morning, my head still fuzzy. I could still remember most of it though, as the pictures were shown, more wine poured and a messy bout of tears was resolved in the old, old way. Maz looked up at me, bleary-eyed, and lifted a sheet to her nose with a wince.

“Which of us spilled the red on the dooner?”

“No idea. Won’t need a dry clean for a while. Stain’s there to stay, I think. I’ll stick the kettle on, and then we can strip the bed”

Her smile up at me was a little fragile, but she nodded.

“Good job we’re both off today”

“Good job we got some basics in yesterday, along with all that boose. I am neither safe nor legal to ride this morning”

“Kettle. And then we both need a shower”

As I headed for the kitchen, I thought back to our picture show, and realised that if some scars might never heal, they could at least scab over.

Breakfast was limited to tea and milky cereal, before we each simply picked up a book and another mug of tea and settled into a couple of patio chairs. As I lowered myself, there was a series of raucous ‘Kerr! Kerr!’ calls, and Maz suddenly brightened up.

“Over there, love! See them? Red-tailed black cockatoos!”

Big and very black, the red panels in their tails glowing in the sun, they were absolutely majestic. ‘Look upon my flight, you lesser birds, and despair’. That thought brought another, and I was suddenly laughing.

“Share the joke, MBS?”

I explained the sudden thought about the poem, and she was nodding.

“Works for me as well, but why the laughter?”

I managed to choke down my snorts long enough to blurt out “Pollymandias!”, and then we were both lost to sobriety, or maybe sanity, for a few moments. It seemed to break the spell, and a few shadows stepped back from the rest of our morning.

The decision for the afternoon was an obvious one, and we decided not to shower but pull on some clothes already worn, put clean ones in a bag and walk out to the beach. A couple of hours in and out of the water, a shower under the free ones provided by the city, then change in the loos before a fish and chip supper in the beach café, which was already one of ‘ours’, so we had to explain that yes, we were now living within walking distance before answering the inevitable business-related questions. As we ambled back home in the warm afternoon sun, Maz was shaking her head.

“We’re stuffed eery time we grab a meal now, aren’t we?”

“Yup. Fancy just getting in and locking all the doors? Permanently?”

She pulled me closer to her.

“Nice thought, but, well. The Butts would probably break in and find us”

“Got no cats to devour our bodies, though but”

I chuckled at her phrasing, indicating she was starting to pick up too many of Kul’s verbal tics, and she was almost indignant.

“Yes, but I am NOT getting into that ‘cool butt’ bit. That’s too close to the edge”

I let my hand drop a bit.

“Cool butt, though”

In the end, the sheets were still off the bed, but we had bath towels, and that was all we needed till later.

We definitely seemed to have crossed into easier territory after that night, and those shadows were getting less persistent with each day. We settled quickly into a social routine, with regular music and climbing club trips, as well as serious use of ‘the barbie on the patio’. We ended up with a solid work routine, our mode of transport varying with each day’s tasks, sometimes together in or on one vehicle, sometimes separately. I was navigating the maze of vehicle registration, ‘rego’, rules for my older bike, Maz was arranging packed lunch meetings when we travelled separately, and it was becoming a very comfortable way of life. After a couple of months of that, I did notice that she had some favourite spots for our outdoor lunches, one of which was a park near the Causeway. I had picked up the munchies one day, a couple of bento boxes from Allendale Square, and as I set them down on the picnic table next to the inevitable public ‘barbie’, I asked her why she was so fond of that spot. She waved a hand past the reeds.

“Little corellas, three darters, four species of cormorant, nankeen night heron, sacred kingfisher---need me to keep going?”

“You are obsessed, woman!”

“Nope. Just multitasking. I can eat one-handed, and I only need the little bins for here”

We ate in silence for a few minutes, me doing my best not to drop rice from the disposable chopsticks, and then Maz spoke again.

“Also lets me talk without anyone else hearing, Mike. That day…. The picture session. You said it, that almost every café owner knows us. Here, it’s just us, and that homeless man who camps in the pavilion over there”

She quirked a smile.

“There are some office workers who walk a few laps of the lake each day, but I can see them coming, and the man with the trolley can’t hear us from there”

I found my mood chilling.

“What’s up, love?”

She tilted her head, looking straight at me, her brow furrowing, before she brought the binoculars to her eyes again, looking over at a group of ducks sitting in the shade.

“Not ‘up’, exactly. Interpretation… Reaction. Old ghosts. Mike, I have been doing a lot of thinking. Life. Got complicated rather quickly when you arrived. Geeta and Kul had said so much about you, and yes, I know we’ve had that chat. I had such hopes”

I felt my guts lurch, the fear rising like nausea, and reached out to touch a shoulder. Her hand rose to caress mine.

“No, love. Not what I’m trying to say. I don’t think I could… Well, I think Kul and Geeta, and Dal to be honest, despite all that crush stuff…”

She took a couple of long breaths.

“To be completely honest, they undersold you. You’re a diamond, Mike, and I am not going to make jokes about polishing, rubbing off rough edges, none of that. I think of Alan, and I see you, and that doesn’t mean I’ve overwritten him in my mind, but then I worry I’ll frighten you off if I push it. And I can’t lose you as well”

I found my voice from somewhere distant, and sought the words to go with it.

“Why would you lose me, love? How could I lose you? Two of us in this together; neither of us alone”

“Yes, and two more at the table with us. Always will be”

“Is that such a bad thing? I think neither of us would be the same person without them, and it’s the person you are now that I love”

She chuckled, but there was an edge to it.

“Would have made my wedding a little confusing if we had known each other then”

I found my voice cracking a little.

“Back then, I would have had my eyes elsewhere, love”

Once again, she turned her head to look me directly in the eyes.

“I know how stupid this sounds, but Carolyn was a very lucky woman, my love. I am so full of conflict here. I wish I had Alan, I wish you had her, but I am so glad that, right now, I have you”

A short pause, then, “I do have you, don’t I?”

I bent towards her, kissing her gently, my wordless way of confirming that yes, she did.

“And I have you. What’s brought this on?”

She twisted to bring her legs back under the picnic table.

“Stuff, Mike. Some hormonal issues. I have an important question to ask”

“Ask away”

“Where are we going? Us, I mean. As a couple”

“Well, I… In what way?”

“Long term, short term?”

I stared at her, realising right then that I had known the answer almost from or first meeting.

“Cool butt…”

“Sorry?”

I shook my head, annoyed with my own flippancy.

“Sorry. Just a memory of that first trip to the beach”

She barked out another laugh, this one sounding genuine.

“I was using what I had, love. Got you looking. Anyway: the question is still hanging”

I knew the answer, of course, but there was one persistent little accusatory voice. I told it to shut up, and gave the only answer I could.

“Simplest way to put it, I was thinking, but this isn’t, but it’s as full a reply as I can find: I can’t imagine not being with you, or rather, better version: I don’t want to imagine being without you. Does that answer your question?”

She left her binoculars to hang down from their strap and took both of my hands properly into her own.

It does, love. It does. It’s the answer I wanted, the one I needed”

I kissed her again, trying to make her feel the honesty of my answer, then pulled back to look at her once again.

“Second time of asking, Maz. What’s brought this on?”

She looked down as she replied.

“Hormones, partly. That night we looked at photos, I am not going to ask if you remember it, but, well, we had a bit to drink. We forgot something”

“I think we’d forgotten quite a bit by the next morning”

“I’m being serious here. We forgot precautions”

‘Hormonal’, she had said. Oh shit.

“Maz, love? Are you saying you’re expecting?”

She nodded, looking very unsure. Deep breaths, Rhodes. All my words would mean nothing without the final question.

“Marry me, then?”

Her eyes closed, in obvious relief, but being the woman she was, she opened them, made a comical ‘shall I shan’t I?’ face, then grinned in pure joy.

“Yeah, okay!”

CHAPTER 66
The tears followed once again, of course, but this time they weren’t entirely driven by grief. I switched sides on the bench seat so that I could hug her, and she could use my shirt to soak up her tears.

“Ey, you all right, love?”

It was one of those women Maz had described, who came down to walk laps of the park for their daily exercise, so many thousand steps app-based thing. Maz waved a hand at her.

“Fine, Miss. Better than that: just got engaged. Being a bit soppy as a result”

The office worker’s frown changed to a grin, and she looked straight at me.

“Good on yer, mate! Doing the King’s Park bit?”

I started to laugh, but could feel the moisture in my own eyes.

“Haven’t got a clue! Got to do the dissemination thing first. Loads of people to tell”

The woman grinned.

“Bit unplanned, then?”

I just nodded, and she laughed back.

“Best kind, I say. Need anything to clean your face, love?”

That was how things went in Perth, and one of the reasons I now couldn’t envisage living anywhere else. As she handed Maz some wipes, I quizzed her about ‘The King’s Park Bit’.

“Oh, sort of traditional here. Get some pics of the wedding party up by the war memorial. Big trees, views out over the Swan”

A memory surfaced with a snort.

“Overlooking the old brewery?”

“That’s it! What’s the joke?”

“Oh, a friend of ours. When he first moved out here he sent some pics back, and one of them was of the brewery. Given me some ideas about how we can give him the news”

“Great! I’m Leanne, by the way”

“Mike and Maryam. Maz”

“Then me and my fella will lift a glass to you both tonight. Magic way to lift an arvo! Don’t start the snogging till I’m well away, okay? See yez”

She was off, with a wink and a grin, and Maz was looking pensive again.

“What’s up, love?”

Once more, her gaze turned towards a flock of corellas as they cawed past the little island.

“Telling friends and family, love. You outweigh me a little in numbers”

“Your family?”

“Nope. Not a chance”

She straightened in her seat, starting to pack up her binoculars and bird book.

“When did we last do an online meeting with the Welsh lot, Mike?”

“Oh, right: ages ago”

“Well, Penny and Keith are the ones who knew Carolyn, am I right? I think they should be the first”

“Not the Butts?”

Suddenly, the laughter was back in her eyes.

“We invite them over for a barbie, set up the online stuff—no! We cadge a barbie at theirs. Dal’s better at setting up a big screen”

“And what excuse do we make?”

An eyebrow rose.

“Nobody ever needs an excuse for a barbie in this country”

Then that grin again.

“But this woman wants a ring. And that’s my plan in a nutshell. No need for bended knees, love. And we are going halves on the jewellery”

She told me the plan in bed that night, and I loved it, after I had stopped laughing.

Two weeks later, on a Saturday evening, and the barbie was heating at Chez Butt, Ronnie and Rufe there along with Chad and Vern, and Kul was wrapping up the little parcels of spiced feta I loved as sausages spat and lamb steaks fizzed. Dal had done his job with the big screen, and we settled down in a mixed collection of chairs, plates and glasses to hand, as the lad got us all connected and six people came into view. As I surreptitiously passed the little box to Maz, I waved with my other hand.

“Hiya Alys, Enfys”

They all waved back, and Penny lifted the collar of her fleece jacket.

“Fess up, Rhodes. It’s two degrees here, and it is hammering down. Go on and gloat”

Geeta laughed out that it was thirty degrees and had been sunny all day, and Vic muttered something in Welsh that sounded pithy, both little girls looking up at him open-mouthed. He chuckled, and we started the usual catching-up, which lasted right up until Maz raised her left hand to push her hair back. Penny, as always, was the sharp one.

“When did that happen, you two?”

All three of the Butts looked confused, but Ronnie was already laughing.

“You rotten, sneaky bastards! Sorry, girls. When did that happen, indeed?”

Maz held out her left hand, the ring shining, and looked puzzled.

“What, this?”

Everything got confused just then, as everyone, even Dal, rushed us both for hugs and handshakes. Kul found his voice first.

“This was a set-up, Rhodes. Am I right?”

“Yup. Blame Maz; it was her idea”

Maz was nodding, a grin splitting her face.

“Yeah! I didn’t want to flash my ring until we had everyone---what? Oh! I told you, I don’t mean to say those things!”

I did my best to hug her blushes away as I looked back at the screen, where Nansi Edwards was clearly explaining things to the children and Penny simply smiled in quiet satisfaction until the tumult died down.

“Mike?”

“Yes, Pen?”

“I’m, we’re, really sorry, but there’s no way we can afford to come out there. We’ll be with you on the day, though, in spirit. I am so proud of you. All of us are. So let us know if there is anything you need, anything we might get you as a wedding gift. Internet is great for that, so if it’s from a local shop, local to you, we can sort. Do you want us to pass the word back to our friends in That Place?”

Maz took the lead, after a quick look at me for confirmation.

“That would be great, Pen. We both understand how far it is and how expensive, but the invitation is still there for anyone who might want to make it part of a holiday”

She looked towards Geeta, who understood her so well, and that woman just nodded, as did Chad, before turning back to the screen.

“We have three houses with space, Pen”

Ronnie shouted “Four!” before settling back against her man, and Maz gave her a thumbs-up.

“Four houses, then, so let us know. Oh, and your other friends, the Woodruffs?”

Pen grinned.

“I was right about you, love, wasn’t I? Where are you doing the deed?”

“I don’t know, but my fiancé here and me, we met a woman in the park who gave us some ideas for the photo session”

Dal had his hand up for attention, and I just called his name as permission.

“Yeah, well, that’ll be up in King’s Park, same place we went when we first came. If I can set up a link, then you can be online for that bit at least. Don’t know if it would be allowed during the thing, the wedding, but we can ask. And I could record it, do some other filming, and then use the suite at college and mix, edit, stuff”

Thank god he seemed to have slipped out of his crush. He had one more question, though.

“Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“Does this mean I should go and get whatever Maz and Mike have in that electric eskie they lugged in?”

Rufe stood up waving his wallet.

“If it’s what’s traditional, I’m off to the bottle shop to add some to the supply. It’s fizz, isn’t it?”

I was waving a hand at him as he started towards the door..

“No need, mate. Put your money away”

“Bollocks to that, mate. Who paid for my spot down by Maggie River? How many bottles in that eskie?”

“Three”

“Then Me and Ronz here can add the same. Call it an early wedding present, engagement gift, whatever. And Dal, yes, as long as Kul and Geeta agree”

Dal looked hopeful.

“Yes to what?”

Rufe grinned again.

“Yes to getting a bit wobbled with the rest of us. None of us are at work tomorrow, and this party is just getting started!”

As he left, I looked back at the screen, and each of the little girls was now holding a hastily scribbled ‘happy wedding’ card, while Vic was laughing while shaking his head.

“We are just starting our Saturday, Mike, so there is no way we are drinking a toast to you with anything other than tea, but here it is”

All of them were holding mugs or beakers, and they raised them together, calling out “Wishing you the very best! Mike and Maz, Maz and Mike!”

Yes, we all got squiffy, but that remains a fully traditional process when celebrating such an event. The problems, such as they were, came in the following weeks, as Maz and I, whether separately or together, revisited our regular clients. Bobby Nguyen had hinted that everybody knew everyone else in Perth, and while that small town vibe was an aspect of the city I loved, it clearly came with a very efficient grapevine. Thank god we worked in the daytime, so had a good excuse for turning down any number of offers of celebratory drinks. Neither of us objected to getting a little tipsy, but we both agreed that it was something best done at home, or with friends, and without the need to drive anywhere.

Meanwhile, both of us were doing a lot of reading to find out what the rules were, and with that my eyes were opening further each day.

This was absolutely the right thing, with the right person. Like most people, I had unconsciously swallowed the concept that we each had one person in our life, one soul mate, one other human whose presence beside us competed that life. I was now discovering, along with Maz, that some of us were blessed with two bites at that particular cherry. I know that Maz felt that way, because we spoke about our inner voices so, so often: true sharing. The only slight difference of opinion was in the choice of venue, for the date was an obvious one in being ‘as soon as possible’. Our child would enter this world legitimate in all ways, if we could help it.

In Australia, I discovered, it is the wedding celebrant who legitimises the marriage, rather than it happening in a particular place. We just needed to find somewhere congenial and photogenic, and we each had ideas ranging from sneaking into King’s Park to commandeering a stretch of beach. The deadlock was broken in a surprising way.

The two of us were in Soapy Joe’s, sampling yet another type of pie ‘floater’, catching up with Bobby and Colleen when there was a cough from a young man who’d entered the café and walked straight to our table.

“Excuse me, but are you Mister Rhodes and Miss Rahman?”

I nodded.

“Very formal, lad. What do you need?”

“Boss sent me with a letter for you”

Des shouted over.

“Asked me to let him know when you were next due in, mate!”

I started to reach for the letter, then thought again.

“Not a summons or something, is it?”

Both Des and the messenger burst out laughing, so I simply took the envelope and opened it. Maz was trying to read over my shoulder, which was difficult as she was sat beside me, and it was now my turn to tease.

“Hang on, and I will read it and summarise the important bits--- ah, it’s from Murdo. He’s congratulating us on our engagement, and he has an offer”

Maz snatched the letter from me, her eyes widening.

“Bloody hell!”

Bobby and Colleen exchanged puzzled looks, so Maz simply handed them a sheet of paper. Des called over from his counter.

“Yeah, I know what it’s about, mates. Bloody good kitchen in that hotel. Murdo’s asked me if I can help with some of the catering. Bring some proper Aussie tradition to eat”

Bobby laughed out loud.

“You don’t do tradition here, mate!”

“Hey, Aussies, we make our own bloody traditions. Anything you two don’t eat?”

Maz and I didn’t need to discuss the offer, so it seemed our wedding would take place on Rotto.

CHAPTER 67
Life took a turn for the bloody busy after that evening. We were both working full time, of course, and there were our combination recreation and social sessions at music nights and at the climbing wall, but there was so much else to deal with. Australia has a very relaxed approach to marriage, in its own way, barring a few slightly irksome formalities. We could indeed marry just about anywhere, but that choice had been sneakily covered by Murdo. We could always say no, of course, but given what he was offering to us a refusal would have been more than rude.

We needed to sort two items out before anything else, though, and that involved sending a specific form and finding a particular type of person---specifically, a ‘notice of intended marriage’ to what the website called to an ‘authorised marriage celebrant’. A bit like the banns in an Englich marriage, in its effect. I assumed it was so that others could object or claim we weren’t eligible, and we had a very silly evening with the Butts where the possible reasons we came up with became more and more fantastic and silly, but there were tears from both of us later when we declared our actual status.

Widow and widower. Here are the death certificates, here are the circumstances.

Emotions and memories that would never leave us, and I prayed that some sort of shell might wrap around them, to keep them safe for us, and ourselves safe from the pain.

Yet again, what I sometimes thought of as Perth’s nepotism brought us a friend of a friend in in Ronnie’s sister, who knew someone and so on, and we met Dina Corrigan, a humanist something or other. Not a vicar, not a priest, just a celebrant. She was a solidly built woman with cropped grey hair and a winning smile, and as we sat in Soapy’s for a first meeting, Maz just squeezed my thigh and gave the slightest of nods: this was the one.

We were running against the calendar, of course, that of a growing child-to-be, so, following a quick check of availability with Mirdo, the date was set for six weeks after we submitted the notice.

It was a bit of a rush, but we got there, just. Maz spent a night at the Butt house, for the sake of perceived propriety, I avoided a stag night on the basis of a headache and wobbly stomach being a bit of a liability when combined with a boat trip, and Kul did the business when, three days before the wedding, Bets arrived at Perth airport with Doug, Joe and Amy. I had been given absolutely no warning they were coming.

Maz and I joined them at Chez Butt, and they were already in full swing with their family’s raucous style of humour. Both of us received loads of hugs, and Bets was straight to the point.

“When did that one change her name, then?”

Kul tried to be blasé, but in the end he folded.

“It’s local stuff, Bets. They abbreviate everything differently down here, and I kept saying ‘Sanny’, and Ronnie and the neighbours kept saying ‘Geeta’, so we just gave up in the end. Good job they didn’t do it with my own name. It’s like the Borg here”

Bets gave him an arch look.

“Dunno, love. You’ve always been a winder-up; would have suited. Now, Maz. I want all the messy details. Not those messy details, Doug: just how they met properly. Yes I know they work together; I want the SP on what she saw in this oversized lunk”

Dal snorted, and all eyes turned to him, and he grinned.

“Aussie phrase I heard, and it’s just so, you know, weird. Great hunk of spunk”

Doug sprayed some of his beer out, thankfully into his glass, while Betty just shook her head and changed the subject.

“Right, then. As you all know, we declined the offer of the job out here, at least first time, but Shaun is always a bit pushy, so…. This is our recon trip, in essence. Have a snout around, see what the place is like. For Mike’s benefit, we’ve got four weeks, and we’re doing the traditional bit, and thanks, Kul”

That man raised his beer in acknowledgement.

“Rod’s sorted them out for us. Four berth van, traditional as a traditional thing”

He grinned at me.

“Nearly slipped there, nearly just said ‘Traditional as’. Er, ripper, bonzer, she’ll be right, et cetera. They pick up the van day after tomorrow. Park it here until after the festivities, and then off into the RFO”

Maz perked up at that remark.

“Well, we know a good caravan park down near Margaret River, which would make a good start. Got the number; if you have a starting date, we can check for vacancies. Fancy being a bridesmaid, Amy?”

Betty laughed out loud once again.

“Like she’d say no? anyway, Maz: answer my question. I want details!”

Maz gave her own laugh, and called over to Dal.

“You got that climbing wall video to hand? Feed it through the telly?”

Dal was up like a flash, and after he had done his usual rearrangement of cables, we were being treated to footage of the ‘English Rock Star’ and other people sitting by him. Amy was open-mouthed.

“Uncle Mike?”

“Yes, love?”

“When we were in Wales you wore more clothes”

Betty was nodding.

“Yes, love. I noticed. I notice that sort of thing very well, Maz?”

“Yes, Betty?”

“Tell me he wears more than that for work”

That evening continued in the usual way, including Dal’s failure at teasing them about drop bears. By the time I drove Maz over to the Butt house again, the evening before our appointment on Rotto, a Canning Van’s four berth special was on the drive and being loaded with the necessities for their expedition. She hugged me so tightly that I felt my breathing failing.

“Not apart long, love. One boat ride, and that’s it for separation. One night, and them well, rest of our lives”

I put a hand to her stomach, where she wasn’t yet showing, and then kissed her.

“Lots of new stuff to come, love, and we’ll find out together. Just one night---hang on”

My phone had chirped in my pocket, and when I flicked it on I found an e-mail alert. I tapped the appropriate icons, and it was from Neil.

‘Hiya mate. Just sorting out a sim card. Could you give me a phone number I can call?’

I sent off my number, a little confused, and showed Maz the message. Her eyes widened.

“You don’t think he’s…?”

“I bloody well do think exactly that! Could you keep all those thoughts we were sharing nice and fresh, and go and let Geeta and Kul know? I’ll do the run, if we’re right”

Two minutes later, and my phone rang.

“Can I help you?”

Neil sounded drained.

“Hiya, Big Boy. I am absolutely buggered. How do I get to yours?”

I thought frantically. Easiest place to put him up would be in the soon-to-be marital home, but getting from Joondalup into the chaos of the airport was likely to be a nightmare. Right…

“You’re at the airport, aren’t you?”

“Yes”

“No chance of a bit of a bit of a warning beforehand?”

“Nope. Only really decided three days ago. Came by Dubai”

“Right… Taxi will cost the Earth, and driving through the arrivals traffic will be awful. Out the front of the airport you’ll find buses. Look for one going to the Busport”

Dal appeared next to me.

“Tell him to get the 902”

“Get that, Neil? I’ll meet you there. How much luggage?”

“Suitcase, and a cabin bag for my cameras and shit”

“Get on the 902 then, and I ‘ll get down to the CBD. Er, city centre”

“You got a cold one in?”

Dal grinned, trotted off and returned with an eskie bag.

“Dad says remember it’s a boat ride in the morning!”

Bag in boot, car in gear, and off into the traffic. Only decided to come three days ago, Neil said, and he would have lost a day or even two in the travel. Home first, then, beers in fridge, make sure the guest bed was ready, and then down to the big car park near the Busport. I was there in ‘zone B’ only three minutes before the 092 pulled in, disgorging any number of commuters and an utterly exhausted Neil Strachan. He simply stared at me as if through the wrong end of a telescope, then grinned.

“Shower. Beer. Bed. Oh, and you look bloody well”

“In the nicest way, mate, you look like shit”

“How I feel, mate. Love you too, aye?”

Manly hugs, but still loving ones. I took his suitcase from him and led him out into the busy streets as he visibly wilted even further in the heat, already plotting.

“Camera kit?”

“Never without it, Mike, but you know that”

“Got someone to do the honours tomorrow?”

“Dal’s setting up a video shoot. Pro kit from college”

“Mind if I sneak around with my own kit, then?”

“That would be lovely. Now, the car’s in here…”

He was snoring before I had driven four hundred yards, but woke as I pulled up in Scarborough. I hauled his case into the spare room, showed him where the shower was and, after a quick couple of questions, I rang the local pizzeria for a delivery. By the time I had sorted out the toppings, he was settling into an armchair, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, hair damp.

“Bugger me it’s warm, Mike Bloody good job the beer isn’t. What’s the plan?”

“Grab my phone, just in case the pizzeria ring. Aussie sim on yours?”

“Yeah. Got it from a little desk in the concourse”

“Can I borrow it? Keep mine free?”

He passed it across, and I quickly rang Kul.

“It’s Mike, on Neil’s phone. Package collected, mate. Getting pizza delivered. Could you do us a favour and let the venue know we’ve got one more for food?”

“Already done, mate. What state’s he in?”

“Breathing. That’s about it, apart from necking that beer”

“Then keep him awake as long as you can before bedtime”

“He’s brought his cameras, Kul. Will that put Dal out at all?”

He thought for a moment, then sighed.

“Lad’s already come to terms with you eloping with his crush, so probably not. He’s all keen to play with the video. I will sell it as taking an extra load off him. I’ve got some last minute extras to sort, so I will leave you to it—that was your doorbell I believe”

He killed the call, as Neil collected two pizzas from the delivery driver, and I started the process of ensuring he didn’t say the wrong thing to Maz the next day, starting with how she lost Alan.