“PIE! Get off my bloody face!”
The bastard dog was sat right on my chin, and even though most of his body was on my chest his smelly rear was just under my nose, tail swishing across my face. Jim’s voice filtered through the black and white fur that blocked my vision.
“Down, Pie! Sorry, Dad”
What felt like half a ton of dog hopped down onto the floor, which left me able to feel the shaking from my right hand side as Sar pissed herself laughing. I rolled her way and attempted to outstare her, but she made those big innocent ‘who me?’ eyes and…I was lost.
I mean, fuck it, how the hell do you snarl at your son, your wife, and your best and only dog? I am indeed too soft for my own good.
“Young man, I hope that tea came up the stairs with the hairy monster?”
Sarah elbowed me, and I managed to crank my neck far enough round to see the tray in his hands. She wrapped herself around me, which was rather nice, and purred into my ear “I think Ali has been a good influence, cariad”
My boy was blushing! I sneaked a look at the wife, and shook my head as I whispered “No, not now, yeah?” before turning back to Jim.
“And, son of mine, to what do we owe?”
“Dad, just thought, you know, would be nice…”
Sar was jerking with suppressed laughter, so I slipped a hand under the duvet and tweaked a nip, which made her squeal, and brought a frown from Jim. He was at just that stage where he might guess what we were about.
“Jim, what were you really hoping for?”
“Er, Dad, Mam…it’s Christmas soon, and I was wondering, what are we doing?”
“Dunno, son, might be working”
“DAD!”
My darling put her hand over my mouth. “Shush, love. Jim, fy nghariad, what do you want to ask?”
“Mam…”
I felt the twitch, and smiled. No matter how many times he called her that, she still reacted, still warmed to her acceptance. I thought, just for an instant, of his mother, my dead love, and even as my loss pricked my soul, what I had gained merged with it. Both of my wives were here, in the two that I loved, the two who made my life real. Would I swap one for the other? Fuck knows, but then I couldn’t, so the question was moot, and after all…I loved this woman beside me, no more than his mother, but certainly, absolutely, no less.
Sarah was still interrogating. “Jim, darling, yeah? Ask, beg, demand, aye? But get the dog out, he’s farting”
“Mam…. Was just thinking, nearly Christmas, yeah?”
She was in her best and pointiest mood. “Indeed? Want to have some guests? Ali by any chance?”
Oooh pink…
“No, Mam; I was going to ask about Darren”
I was actually surprised at that. “He’s got his own family, Jim, lots and lots of them. We’d need one hell of a place to fit them all, even with your Nan’s house, yeah?”
“Yeah, Dad, but he told me they’re going to have another do at that church…”
“You been plotting, Jim?”
He still looked embarrassed, but there was a hint of challenge there. Somehow, we had avoided the teenage terrors I had half-expected, and I really believe it was due to Sarah’s influence on him, but the boy was most definitely becoming his own man. That brought a confused mix of feelings; he was still my boy, my lad, my child, but girls had been discovered, his own social circle clearly established, and from somewhere deep in my own genes a pair of shoulders was making an entrance. No longer a boy, no longer someone who found sleeping in an understairs cupboard an adventure, but still, still, my son.
I looked across the bed for an instant: our son.
He looked at me and in his eyes I could see the arguments gathering.
“It would be camping, Dad, and we haven’t been for a while”
“Who was it who was daft enough to get into the first XV? Told you, son, it eats your weekends! Mam, do we want to go lying in some cold tent in a field?”
“Will there be beer?”
“Bloody typical woman, straight to the awkward arguments. Knowing that lot, most probably, and music, before you get that argument in”
“Then, what the hell, man of mine, did you have anything else planned for the holiday?”
“Well, Mum was the only thing”
“Knowing that lot, they’ll have some folks in a hotel, or in their homes, aye, so…Jim, what have you done?”
“Em…Nan said she’d love to come”
I burst out laughing at that one. “You devious little bugger! Who else did you ring?”
The blush was spreading. “Ali…and Aunty Alice…and Uncle Pat…”
Sarah was giggling away like a teenager. “Tony, he’s stitched you up like a bloody kipper, he has! James Hall, you been speaking to Aunty Bev again? Thought so. Right, as it is down to me, I shall have a think about it and let you know later”
I grunted. “What do you mean down to you?”
“Me woman, me mother, so my choice, aye? Jim, bugger off and let that smelly hound into the garden”
The boy went, and her hand moved, and she murmured “And you…come here…”
Our breakfast was late.
I rang the usual suspects that morning.
“Woodruffs!”
“Morning, Geoffrey, you and that ginger slapper corrupting my boy?”
“Ah, he stirring you up already, Tone? If you can make it, should be good. Usual arrangements, usual bods. What about your own Wild West lot?”
“Trust me, he’s already been on the blower to Alice, so no doubt it’s gone all round the Powells by now, and of course he’s been on to Arris’ lot. He’s been busy, he’s even got Pat stirred up”
“Bloody hell, that should cause a stir, if he’s as in your face as usual”
He started to laugh again, and each time I heard him do that I knew exactly how well he and my old friend fitted, and why. “We shall have Merry there, of course, knowing Simon, so she will be having her own agenda even if Annie doesn’t. Bugger me, Chapel, Anglican, Left-footer; we won’t need any music for the entertainment!”
“Will there be beer?”
More laughter. “I nearly made that remark about the Pope just then, but given the guest list…course there will. Look, let us know exactly how many, then, and we will sort. See you there, mate”
Late shift that day, and I seemed to spend a lot of it under coaches in the damp, and I am sure I got some odd looks as I chuckled away at the thought that I was spending my working day being paid to lie on wet ground in winter, only to go off and do just about the same thing for fun in a churchyard. I got in just before midnight, only to get a slap when my cold knees touched the backs of hers. She made up for it with a kiss after I had warmed up a little, and then spooned back into me for the rest of the night. It was at times like that when I knew it was right, the whole thing. I mean, I didn’t have doubts at all, not now; we were a family, it all fitted so well, but there were moments that spoke to me of completion and others that shouted it.
Christmas Eve morning (odd phrase) we packed the chair with as much as we felt we needed, and I had a small moment of hesitation before taking the plunge. We were all in our riding kit, Jim in waterproofs rather than leathers, and I looked at Sar as she filled a pannier.
“Light of my life, doll-features, heart-face?”
“What do you want, Hall?”
“You don’t like riding the Guzzi, do you?”
“You know I don’t; steering’s all wrong with a sidecar, isn’t it?”
“Yeah…so which bike are you taking?”
“Well, the Kwak, of course….shit! You sure, Tone?”
“I’d probably have to start it for you, and Jim would go with me, love, and I’d need a promise you wouldn’t go silly…”
She kisses rather nicely, does my missus. So, sidecar filled with camping kit and dog, helmets on, and spark set on the beast I loved almost as much as my family. Straddle it, flip out the lever, and off the ground with both feet to come down again, and the fucker kicked back. Ow. I could fall out of love, you know.
Pause, breathe, into the air again, and bang, it was running, a warbling thunder of delight, and I set it on the side stand, looked up and caught her dancing with joy. I mean literally that; her hands were above her head, feet doing little hop steps.
“What? Look, you bloody married me, you were supposed to all your worldly goods me endow, and you have never, ever endowed me with this, have you? Means we’re properly married now!”
There are lots and lots of things I will never understand about my wife, but her love of a decent bike is not one of them, so I just grinned and kicked the Guzzi into life, which was a hell of a lot easier.
“Hop on, Jim. Got everything, cause if you haven’t it’s too late now!”
Off we went along the seafront to the tunnels and then the M20, at which point she simply left us for a few miles, until we caught up again as she wound her neck in. I caught the grin through her visor as we rode by side for a mile or so, till she pulled away again as far as Leeds and the Maidstone services, where we were to meet up with Pat, Janet and my mother. It still felt odd to see him without his dog collar, but the man inside never changed, just expanded into a widescreen version. He came smiling across the car park as the bikes ticked, arms spread wide, as Jim gave the dog a short walk.
“Tony! Have you the supplies?”
I showed him the two small soft drink bottles I had hidden from Sar. “The Sprite is the Laphroaig, the Seven-up is the Highland Park. Explain to me again, you sneaky bugger, why I am the one to bring the whisky?”
“Because I am the one who has brought the whiskey-with-an-E, the Bushmills sixteen-year-old, which the wife has deigned to permit my sharing”
“Hiya, Janet. You drink it too?”
His wife’s nose wrinkled theatrically. “Oh god no, Tony, someone has to keep the family taste bud alive. Jim is looking quite the young man now; he agitating for his own bike yet?”
I looked over at my lad. “He has, Janet, but I pointed out that a moped is a piece of strangled crap that he can outsprint on his Specialized, and if he waits one more year we can get him some proper lessons”
She laughed. “What, and let him out on the Norvin---no, Tony, ‘like fuck’ is not something your Mum needs to hear!”
I turned my head to check the reaction. “Janet, she just did hear it…”
“Yes, but not from her son”
Logic choppers. “Pat, Janet…you two deserve each other!”
They beamed, and as one said “Oh yes!”
Mum was impatient. “Come on, less gossip. I didn’t give birth to an old woman, did I?”
“Impatient to see Alice, Mum?”
She looked at me, sagging slightly. “Yes, son. Look, I know that it is all wonderful, all and everything she wanted, and Arwel and her…ah, I just miss the company. I don’t begrudge her, not at all, but…oh, you know what I mean, love. Come on; soonest there, soonest we get the kettle on”
The light was still enough to see as we rolled into the parking area by the church, and I used my delegation skills usefully, leaving the boy to put the tents up as I made my little circuit of greetings. I had just spotted Steph when a pair of arms went round me from behind and squeezed.
“My second favourite man…”
“Hello, Alice, please tell me you aren’t camping?”
She was looking old was how my thoughts first went, but then I realised that it wasn’t true. The truth was deeper: she looked as if she had relaxed into life. Her face wasn’t sagging with age, it was sitting comfortably without the stress that had held it tense for as many years as I had known her.
“Tony, my husband has been as devious as ever, and we have our own bed over there. We could, of course, have stayed with the Woods, but he rather felt that a room in the Six Bells would be more to his liking. Can I ask: did you know Jim was going to ask us over? Ah, thought not. He’s…look, my darling, does it worry you at all, him growing up?”
“A bit, Alice, a bit; like losing my son, in little ways, but he’s so steady, so normal–shit, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that”
“Tony, think about what you just did. It wasn’t until after you spoke that you worried. That suggests you consider me normal, which I take as a compliment and a reassurance”
I had to press her a little, I don’t know why, but I did. “You, um, you doing all right over there? No problems?”
She laughed, and nodded over to where her husband and stepson were deep in conversation with another group of Welshmen.
“Can you see anyone ever being allowed to give me problems, Tony? No, much as I am no believer in fate, those problems I have had seem to have been designed to deliver me to where I am now, and for that I will forgive almost anything. Well, anything but incest and rap music”
There was that twinkle there, the Aunty Alice my son had taken to so quickly.
“Where is he, Tony?”
“Earning his keep, Alice. I sent him over the pub to go up a few chimneys before setting the tent up. Mum’s over there by the car with the missus, so I am off to find cups and stuff, as I am sure the kettle is on somewhere”
“In the hall, Tony. Just remember, pour it out AFTER you have done the rounds, otherwise it will be cold”
There were people everywhere, and they were slowly settling into clusters. Tents were springing up, conversations going on in a number of different languages (was that bloody French?) and I was shaken and hugged all the way into the kitchen area, where I finally saw Simon.
“Ah, our doorman is here. Shouldn’t you be in a black jacket and tie?”
“Cheeky vicar, and you can pronounce that how you like. Hiya, Merry, when’s the wedding?”
Blush. “You are very presumptuous, Anthony Hall, but I shall ignore that rude and inquisitorial remark next June. Well, that is what he has suggested, but I am at present unsure as to whether I shall accept as he is derelict in his duties. The silly man has forgotten to get sufficient milk for the tea”
Simon slipped an arm around her waist. “No, my love, I have got in more than enough for an ordinary group of people. It isn’t my fault that your family drink so much tannin they must have leather stomachs. Tony, what do you drink in the evening?”
“Tonight, Simon? Beer, of course. Look, I could take a run down to the supermarket if you want”
“No, after all her nagging, Geoff has already gone. Look, here’s the plan: we have a plain meal here tonight, and then there will be work for me. Carol service, usual stuff, then beer and music, yeah? Tomorrow we have the hospital again for lunch with the WI, and after that it’s whatever we fancy”
I chuckled, as Alice’s pair of exceptions sprang to mind, and then had to explain them, of course, which brought a guffaw from him and a blush from her, but it was a blush she buried in his shoulder. Young love, how sweet.
I took Alice’s advice, and I must admit that I had real problems with some of the names, especially the foreigners. So many bloody Welsh…I spotted a tall red-haired woman, with two smaller women beside her, and realised that young Darren must be around somewhere. What was her bloody name? Jilly? Jacky?
“COO-EE BIG MAN! And if you can’t remember us that’s tough cause you will when you leave. What’s your name again?”
The youngest woman sniffed theatrically. “Thass Mr Hall, Jim’s dad, Mum!”
I stuck out a hand. “Tony…GINNY!”
“Don’t wear it out, I like it, yeah? You seen Daz yet? This one’s pining”
It was really odd the way…Kate! It was Kate!...was hanging back slightly with a gentle smile on her face, just watching the other two like an indulgent parent. She murmured “Shan, want to go with Mr Hall while he looks for Darren? Tony, is your friend here, with all the other young people?”
“If he isn’t, Kate, then my boy will be terribly disappointed, yeah? Young love and all that”
On cue, the two older women turned their gaze on Shan, who blushed. “Mums!”
Kate grinned back. “Remember what we said, love. Good men, bad men, yes? Got your phone?”
“Yes, Mum, got it”
There was far more of the teenager in her than I had ever seen in my son, but it was almost a parody of itself, as if Shan felt that she had a role to play, one indulged by her parents. I was sure there would have been proper strops at some point, but there was an underlying warmth there that spoke of people who could keep their eyes on bigger things, bigger pictures. Shan pulled her pink hat down, wrapped her pink scarf around the top of her pink fleece and stuffed her pink-gloved hands into its pockets. Ginny caught some indication from me and said “What? So she likes pink, and it is ok because she is a gurl, right?”
What else could I do but shake my head and laugh? “Come on, Shan, let’s find that boy”
We headed off round the back of the hall, to see if he was setting a tent up anywhere, and passed Pat and Janet heading for the kitchen area. I made a mental note: make tea at tent rather than get dragged into the conversation that was no doubt about to explode. Politely, in true friendship, but it would still be an explosion. We found Darren at the back door, helping to carry boxes of food and drink into the Hall and I was suddenly abandoned by Miss Pink, who went straight in for full mouth-to-mouth action.
I found it odd to watch. I mean, I kiss my wife, and she kisses me, and very nice it is too, and most of our friends seemed to share the taste, but those two were so close to Jim in age that it threw me. Jim was, is, my son, and no matter how old he gets he will always be just that, and in my heart of hearts he will always remain a child.
Darren was released at last, and grinned over his girl’s shoulder, and I realised that he too was hitting some sort of spurt in his growth.
“Mr Hall! You got Jim here, then, yeah?”
“Putting the tents up, son. He’s waiting for his girl to arrive, so I thought I’d keep him occupied so he doesn’t pine away, yeah? And yes, we have the hound with us”
“Magic! I get this last box in, give him a hand, yeah?”
Somehow he disengaged from Shan and did the necessary with the supplies, and I saw how wiry his forearms had become. I felt old, the younger man coming up fast on the inside, but then he grinned, and it was the child again, off to see his mate. All that was missing was his hand in mine…
Our tents weren’t up, as it turned out, because my own young man had been distracted by some strumpet.
“Hiya Steve, Arris! Could you drag her off somewhere so he can finish what he started?”
I am sure the ground moves slightly when he laughs. “You miserable bugger, they haven’t seen each other for–how long is it, love?”
Arris pretended to check her watch. “Bout a fortnight? Hiya, Darren! This the famous Chantelle?”
The girl was blushing. Too much life in them…”You met me before, yeah, when I was just getting my Mums”
Arris just smiled sweetly. “Aye, but you were all shy and young, back then! Seem to remember you buried under my offspring. ‘S right, Ali? Oh, put him down for a minute! Darling lover, were we ever like that?”
Memories…I thought back to a campsite, and a shy girl, and her friend. “Arris, would you like me to tell the kids what you were really, truly, like, you two?”
“Er, no, not really. Where’s your missus, Tone?”
Jim looked out from inside the tent, where he was now laying out sleep mats.
“Mum’s got Pie, Dad, taking him round to say hello to everyone. Said she’d catch you later, after she got her own cuppa cause you are not fit for purpose as a husband. Well, it’s what she said!”
Steve looked at me, one eyebrow raised in amused sympathy. “Only one thing to say to that, bro. Pint?”
I nodded. “Pint, yeah. Off to the pub, son. Wash your face when you’ve finished!”
It was, of course, full of Welshmen. Why did I marry someone from over there? Simple, really: I loved her. The rest just sort of came along in the slipstream.
“Arwel, Twm, Hywel, hiya!”
“Tony, just in time. Your round, I think”
“Cheeky bugger. Never change, do you?”
“Fuck aye, Tone. Got me on bloody salads half the week, she has. This is my two days of escape, aye? Bag of pork scratchiings do me, with the Doom Bar, I think”
Steve rumbled again. “Bloody good job the in-laws aren’t over, we’d be outnumbered”
Arwel laughed, and there was real warmth there. “Look on the bright side, lads! Annie’s lot are all Chapel, aye? More room in here for us sensible people!”
Hywel snorted. “You, Dad? Sensible?”
“Well, I married the old trout, didn’t I? Same again, Twm, boy?”
Nods, and ten minutes later Steve and I had our first pint of the day, and for a few moments there was quiet. Hywel broke the silence as his Dad munched through his dried fat.
“Gets complicated, this sort of thing, aye? So many people, half of them I don’t remember the names, just know I’m supposed to smile. Our Elaine be down as well, at least they’re family, aye?”
Arwel paused in his eating. “Big word, that, boy. Tony, this is your family, aye? Few strangers here, like that boy sitting by you, but we don’t mind that. Your son, Jim, there, he’s as much family as if he were Sar’s. He knows that, aye?”
He looked again at Steve. “You too, big man. Not family, so much, but without your girl, my girl wouldn’t be here, so even though you’re a sais I’ll take a pint with you”
Twm laughed out loud. “Especially if he’s just bought it, aye? . Anyway, you sort of owe them your own marriage, aye?”
The most theatrical of sighs came from the old man. “Aye, there’s a down side to everything”
Another laugh, from Hywel. “Duw, Dad, you don’t half talk some crap at times. Tony, you noticed how we’ve gone on today? Women off one way, us all over here, aye? Shows who has the sense”
I laughed. “There’s at least two couples who are joined at the gob at the moment. Oh, and the vicar”
“Is this the sexist patriarchy bar, or can we have a pint as well?”
I looked up, and it was my sisters-in-law, both in normal clothing for once. Elaine grinned and grabbed her uncle’s hand over the head of her cousin for a squeeze, and she looked round the table.
“Bloody typical; too late to be in the round, too early for the next one! Dim ots, aye”
Siá¢n bent down to me. “That was a hint, Tone, for whoever got the last one to flash the cash”
“Whatever happened to buying your own?”
Elaine sniffed. “We may be lesbians, but we’re still lay-dees. White wine and a pint of whatever the dead rat was last in””
Steve chuckled. “Hear and obey…”
Elaine drew up a couple more chairs. “What’s the plan, boys?”
I bit my tongue at the answer that sprang to mind, about drinking the pub dry. “Simon is doing a carol service this evening and we have some beers and food in the hall. Proper Christmas lunch for us all tomorrow, courtesy of the WI. Tenner a head for us, and the proceeds go to the local hospice. Dinner for us, with the usual kid’s hospital crowd, and there will be music from the usual suspects, and a disco sort of thing for when they get tired”
Arwel grunted. “And beer, aye”
“You are staying in a bloody pub, Arwel!”
“Aye, and shut they will be on the day, Tone. Took some persuading to let us stay the night, got to go in and out the back door”
I took a sip as Steve returned with the girls’ drinks. “How did you manage that, anyway? Place would normally be closed up tight as a duck’s whatsit”
Hywel answered. “Mix of things, really. Landlord quite appreciates the charity bit over at the church, and it’s Mam…Alice. That court case is still quite fresh in some people’s minds, aye, and he seems to have decided to be nice”
Elaine leant past me and said something in Foreign, in the middle of which I clearly heard the word “Mam”. Hywel looked round our little party and shrugged. “Well, it seems to make her happy, and, well, it certainly seems to fit, aye? How anyone could ever have thought she was a man, diawl”
That was so close to home. We had our own little collection there, and it was such a truth. Janet I had only ever known as a woman, and my wife had always been one as far as I felt, but the others I had watched as they stepped over the border. Annie, Alice, Steph…I still had scars she had given me, for fuck’s sake, and yet what Hywel had said was so absolutely right. I looked at each of them, and they were women, and I wondered how the world could ever have believed anything different.
Elaine sank her pint effortlessly, and glanced at the bar for an instant.
“Nope, we need to get over there and get sorted. Tent, shewee, all that sort of thing. And talk to somebody, aye? Social event, not pub crawl, bechgyn”
Hywel sank his beer. “Okay, Ossifer, I’ll come quietly, iawn?”
Siá¢n sipped her wine. “Not what Suze says”
I leant over towards Elaine. “Shewee?”
“Girly pee bottle, aye? Sort of, anyway. Only thing I’m jealous of in a bloke. Come on, sup up and we’ll get sociable, there are people I want to see!”
We supped, as instructed, and headed off back to the church. The light was almost gone now, and there were more arrivals. I found Steph again just as Dave and his wife arrived, and before I could do more than the basics Simon and Merry were calling for order.
He took the lead, but only just. “We have an hour, people, before we have the service. Can I ask our choristers to be in the stalls at least fifteen minutes before that?”
Merry stepped forward. “There will be no false modesty this evening, and there will be mince pies in each choir stall”
Arwel’s voice boomed out. “Pint of ale be better, aye?”
And so we went to the ball.
PART 2
I had to remember that this was a parish church, not a private chapel, as the pews filled with people I not only didn’t remember but actually didn’t know. Simon was in full vicar-mode, in cassock and collar, and his fiancée had managed to snag a corner of the choir stalls so as to be as near to him as possible.
Despite the presence of a number of young folk in the classic white choir-kit, the stalls seemed filled with Welsh. I had Sar to one side of me, Mum and Alice beyond her, Jim to the other, and of course Ali glued to his right side. Simon had found a spot in the vestry where Pie could snore for a bit, before we let him back in for the proper festivities.
“Dearly beloved…well, it’s traditional, but, as I look around the old place, it is more true than ever. Over the last few years there has been a sea change in the life of this church. We have found friends from the far West, and friends from next door, and while I must admit that some are more conventionally religious than others, I do believe they share, they bring to us, a sense of spirituality that sings the love of Christ in this world. So, let us begin as we hope to continue, with that singing. As usual…”
He turned to the stalls. “As usual, we do have rather a fine bottom in the stalls, but we also have rather a good selection of soprano voices. So, Gloria in Excelsis it shall be”
Sar nudged me. “He talking about Merry's bottom, there?” she whispered. I missed most of the first verse trying to keep a straight face.
Now, I am a rocker. It’s sort of traditional for bikers, and me and the wife are sticklers for tradition. My first memories of her can be summed up as ‘strut’, for that is what she always seems to do when dancing. However much her history may have shaped her, she has always been a rock chick, and her idea of a dance involves heels, short skirt and a lot of leg and bum. Many a time I have been more than happy to watch her do her thing, face glowing and hair flying, and it always amazes me when I find myself watching her lovely behind and think: that’s mine. How the hell did I manage that? I know we are both getting on, our fiftieth birthdays well behind us, but she is just so beautiful it hurts. Anyway, enough of the lustful thoughts, it was a church, and what I felt was awe. The music was certainly no rock anthem, no dirty riff-driven grind and shout, but there was so much power there I found myself shutting up so as not to spoil it. Annie’s family, of course, the pure voices of the women soaring in the chorus, while the bass and baritone of the men gave such depth to it. Our own family, too, and it was still that word that warmed my heart. They had made such a point of accepting me, and particularly Jim, I wanted to cry sometimes. All I had ever been left with, apart from him, was my mother. Jim was no blood kin to them, and Sar and I could never give them another, but they had opened their arms and taken us in without any suggestion that the world could work any other way.
Jim had changed so much, from his days of withdrawal at school after the death of his mother. I watched him as he sang, and pride was bubbling away. My boy, my son, he was becoming a man of whom I could be proud indeed. Sar’s doing, but Arwel, almost as much, the hard, hard man showing Jim how tender he could be without ever being any less masculine.
Sar nudged me as the song ended. “You OK, cariad? You just stopped singing there”
I lifted a hand to kiss. “More than OK, love. Just, in church and that, thought I’d count my blessings”
“And?”
“More than enough, love, more than enough, and they are standing all round us”
Merry read the lesson.
“From the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 12, verses 41 to 44”
It was the parable of the widow’s mite, and after a breathtaking delivery of the next hymn, “Oh God Our Help in Ages Past”, which gave me shivers with the men’s harmonies, Simon stepped up to the front again.
“I won’t be giving the sermon this evening, as I have a friend along for that purpose. Well, not just for that; he’s here as a friend first and foremost, because this is indeed the season for friends, for family. Father Patrick Malahyde”
Patrick took the pulpit position. “Not strictly ‘Father’ any more, for the Lord showed me a slightly different path, and when the Boss offers you a present it is usually bad manners to refuse. My gift is sitting…four rows back, on the left.
“Now, it is Christmas. Season of goodwill, giving, over indulgence and repeats on the telly, which is why so many of you have decided to come along this evening and enjoy the free gig that our visitors to the choir stalls are providing. Live music, indeed, and the thing about live music, whether playing it or enjoying somebody else doing it, is that it rather helps if you are actually alive. Now, that sounds a bit obvious, but there are different sorts of death. Those of you who are regulars here know that we come together to celebrate the short life of a friend, and remember her untimely death. That is one sort of death, the death of the body. Of course, Our Lord has promised us that there is more, but you all know that, even the Frenchman over there. No? Steph will explain it later.
“There is death of the spirit, and death to humanity. No, no weapons of mass destruction, just a severance of the soul from those around you. There are people who have lost all hope, and they are for us to save, with the help of God. Melanie, who rests in peace in this churchyard, was not one of those. I never met her, but my friends tell me of her joy, of her hope, as life opened before her.
“I have friends here, though, whose spirit nearly rolled over and succumbed , as life and circumstances piled up such a weight of sorrow that they could see no exit. That they are here is a testament of the power of love, so that is part of my message to you today. Look around you; look for those who need, and give of yourself. Not just at Christmas, but through the year. What you have is yourself, and that is what you can give. Like the widow, you are worthy in His eyes, and it is not something done for the eyes of men. You may save a life, one day.
“I have a friend, and he is not a Christian, but he says it so well: be excellent to one another. Let those around you know not only that there is loving-kindness, love, but that it is there for them and all they need to do is reach out and take it.
“Death to humanity…that is the hardest one to explain. I will not dwell on how our friend came to leave this world, but there was a profound lack of connection to common humanity involved. We have young people here today who have lived through such a death, and they were in peril of that death of the spirit I spoke of, but I am thinking of their abusers.
“Is anyone ever lost to God, lost to humanity? It is so easy to believe that, so tempting, but it is wrong to do so. God values all of His creation, all of his people. Here is the lesson: if you write off somebody, you do no better than they have done. Hate them? Well, yes, that is natural. See them as somehow bereft of humanity, hopeless of redemption? That is death to humanity, or the start of it, and where do you draw the line?
“So, my brothers and sisters, on this day of giving, look around you, think on those whom you find it difficult to accept. As He said, love thy neighbour, whoever and whatever they are. And go in peace”
He stepped down, and Simon announced the next hymn, “Joy to the World” before doing the bread and wine bit, which surprised me. I had assumed it was just a carol service, but it seemed to fit. Sharing…we didn’t go up, but there was quite a queue.
Simon finally called for the last hymn, and I knew it was going to be a biggy from the way he grinned.
“I have my in-laws to be in the choir, along with my fiancée, so what else could we do but finish with one of theirs? This is a good old-fashioned bellowing hymn, so even though it would cost a bit, can we see if we can shake the dust out of the roof? Guide Me Oh Thou Great Jehovah…”
Wow. Sod spoiling it with my voice, just…wow. If anything could ever have got me that old-time religion, it would have been that hymn, sung by my friends and family. It was a tune that lived inside them, with a chorus made for harmony singing, both bass and soprano, and Hywel’s clear tenor soaring with the best. Shit, people paid good money for worse performances. I realised Sar was snuffling, and looked across to see Mum dabbing away tears from Alice. Jim just sang his heart out with the rest of the congregation.
Wow.
Simon sent us on our way, and people started to head over to the Hall, where the supper was being set out. Nothing special, just bowls of stew and mince pies, but it was enough, and the atmosphere walked over from the church with the people. I found Janet and Pat stuffing their faces, and had to remark to him about the feelings the music raised in me.
“Ah, Tony, mate, I always have had hope for you. You are an honest man, always knew that. Fuck, you looked after my best mate without a second---no, you had a second thought, then you looked at it, told it to piss off, and got on with being who you are. Honesty. Janet, love?”
She passed him a couple of pound coins, which he dropped into a plastic bag.
“Saves him trying to remember for the swear box”
Pat grinned. “I get to give money to the needy while having a bit of a relax, Tony. Works for me! Sort of ‘Widow’s shite’, yeah?”
I groaned. “Pat, even for you that was atrocious”
“Ah, there’s worse. Got any of that Seven-up?”
I had, and he poured a dram into a clean tea cup. “Music tonight?”
I nodded. “Believe so. Annie and Steph are a bit addicted to it”
On cue, there was a sort of strangled cat noise, and Steph’s niece’s bloke, whatever his name was, started playing some assembly of tubes, which was actually rather pleasant. Simple, gentle stuff; elevator music for the discerning. Others were setting up chairs and music stands, and unpacking a variety of instruments.
“Scuse, Pat, I want to have a quick word”
I made my way over to the band-to-be, which seemed to need a lot of help from a very pink girl to get set up, and gave Steph a hug and Annie a kiss on the cheek.
“Steph, haven’t seemed to find any chances to catch up today. Been making the rounds and there’s just so many I have to say hello to. Annie, your family, in that last one…bloody hell!”
She grinned. “Was yours there as well, aye? Always a favourite with the chapel lot, that one, brings them back for more”
“Your cousin, there, she getting him all welshified?”
“Simon? Dunno about that, but I bet his diet has changed. Likes to bake, does my cuz. Half of this here is probably her doing, aye?”
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Ah, nothing too late. Bit of a jam, stretch the fingers. Tomorrow, might get a bit looser. Hang on, Tone. DEN! Over here!”
I left her to coo and prattle over a small child and carried on with catching up with Steph.
“What was that Pat said about you explaining it to the French?”
“Ah, we have a couple of visitors. Opposite number, sort of, from Ouistreham, and his sister. She’s, well, a bit…shit, she’s another one of us, if you see what I mean, and he was good to me, so we sort of asked them over to show them what we have. She speaks English, he doesn’t, not really”
“What do we have, Steph?”
She cocked her head to one side, thinking. “More than we ever expected, Tony. That was on the money tonight, that sermon of your mate’s. I’ve had some shit, you know that, Sarah too, and for fuck’s sake Annie’s been through the mill, but when we turn round…Pat said family, he said friends. My first day really out as myself and I walk into my bloody husband-to-be, and Annie’s was there already, they just didn’t know it. You, you were there too, aye? For Sarah, for Alice? I think that’s why we get on so well, all of us, we’re all alive to humanity, like Pat said”
I laughed. “Are the two of us miserable bloody atheists REALLY standing discussing a sermon by a priest? What is the world coming to?”
She smiled. “Whatever it is, I can’t imagine a better one just now”
I looked around, trying to spot her frogs, and he was obvious: big nose, comedy moustache, and that was clearly his sister behind him, and her genetics were clearly the same as his and she did not look good, poor girl. They were also peering around, and I caught his eye just as he spotted Steph and came over. They launched into some Foreign, and I was left with the sister, I held out my hand.
“Tony Hall, a friend of Steph’s”
Her voice was deep, accented and very French. “Sophie Laplace, and ma bruzzer Roland”
Too tall, too broad in the shoulders, she must have had a hard time. I wondered what the French attitudes were like.
“I am like Stephanie there, you know, so I know I look…you understand, eh?”
Annie was looking round me at that point. “Annie Johnson, Sophie, and I too am like Steph, and there are three others here at least, so you are welcome. Do you like music?”
I had to laugh. “Straight to the important bit as Annie sees it, yeah? Sophie, this lot don’t ‘like’ music, they live on it; food and drink, right?”
Annie grinned. “Food, aye, but I still need the odd pint. Sophie, be welcome indeed. We will be playing a bit tonight, but tomorrow is the big day. There will be music, there will be dancing, and there will be food”
I looked down at her. “Don’t forget beer, Annie”
She looked across. “Den, do I ever forget beer?”
“Only when you’re on the wine, pet”
Sophie looked round at the crowd slurping their way through stew and cakes. “They know about you?”
Annie laughed. “Two of us got married here, Sophie. We help out with a support group, for kids who don’t know or are having problems. Yes, they know. Can’t help it myself, I was sort of all over the papers”
“[Something Foreign]?”
“In the newspapers. There was a big trial and I was dressing as a man at the start of things but being myself at the end. Big news around here”
“And there is no hatred?”
That one question said so much, and I saw that her brother had guessed where the conversation was going, because he slipped an arm around her shoulders and said something in French to Steph. She nodded to him.
“Roland says that Sophie has had a few problems with bigotry over there. A few beatings, a lot of abuse. This is the first time in months he has been able to get her to come out of the house for more than a run to the shops”
I thought of my wife, of that little fucker Joe, his fist in her face, and I went cold.
“Steph, tell them from me, that does not happen here. SAR! OVER HERE!”
My darling heard, and made her way through the crowd, and I saw the recognition spark in her on seeing Sophie. She murmured to me “One more to cosset, love?” then turned to the taller girl.
“Hiya, I am Sarah, Tony’s wife. And yes, me too. Annie, Steph, me, all sisters, sort of”
I slipped an arm around my wife’s waist, taking the chance to give her bum a squeeze as I did so.
“Sar, Sophie has had a few Joe-type problems. Can I leave you to have a chat, you know, girls together? I think her brother needs a pint. Roland? Beer?”
The sight of me pulling my jacket on sent the right signals, and together with a herd of other men we abandoned the hall and its solo piper for the Six Bells, where the international language of men, ‘beer’, served to cement our relationships. Roland’s English was very basic, but Geoff spoke more than enough to get by, as did Eric, and Dave knew the rude words that filled the gaps. Roland said a few things, and we got them in some sort of order, and it was clear that he had gained what he had been seeking, to show his sister that, in the words of the old cliché, it didn’t have to be like that.
“Geoff, can you ask him what his sis does?”
Foreign…”She’s a teacher, Tony, works in the language unit at Caen University”
Shit, that might work. “Geoff, just a thought, like, but has she ever thought of coming over here to do the assistant bit, you know, visiting frog to help kids learn the language? It’s just…”
Pat chipped in. “Fuck, aye, Tony. I’ll speak to Janet”
Geoff muttered something incomprehensible, and then we had to scrabble around for serviettes, as none of us were women and tears on a man is not something usually done for public consumption. What the hell had gone on over the Channel? Eric and Geoff teased it out, and Eric was shaking his head, mouth tight with anger.
“Some of the parents tried to get her blacklisted at the college, boys. There’s the usual policy in place to stop that, but one or two of them took it to her home. That’s why she’s living with Roland just now. She…she cut her wrists two months back”
Once more I saw Joe, someone I had never met, but knew by the taste he left in my mouth.
“Well, tell Roland this: it stops now, it stops here. Pat?”
“I will speak to Janet. This is what I was talking about, there in the pulpit. No more Melanies. Fuck, Tone, got that bottle of Sprite? Roland might appreciate a nip, and I certainly would”
Pat was right. No more Mels, not here, not anywhere. I passed him the bottle.
PART 3
Geoff explained our idea, with Eric’s help. The former looked across to me, frowning.
“I only learned some of this to try and keep up with Steph. If it’s talking about bits of bikes, I’m fine. This is something else”
Janet came in at that point, and Pat took her aside, putting away his mobile. I watched her face as he spoke, and each little nugget of Roland’s story led to a definite reaction on her face, culminating in an expression I found deeply scary. I had had my doubts about Janet’s agenda when we first met, but she had proven true to her declared position, and the change in Pat’s mood had been profound. This was something new from her; this was rage. She caught my gaze, and her jaw set. There was a sharp nod, an affirmation of our common cause, and she was gone again. Pat returned to the table.
“Remind me never to upset the wife, Tony. Might be messy…she’s gone to convene the chapter, or whatever it is. Eric, can you let Roland know his sister’s on her way over, so he can be adequately butch for her?”
They made quite a sight as they came across the car park, Annie and Steph arm in arm with Sophie, Janet in the lead, and Ginny bringing up the rear with her daughter. Somehow, we managed to squeeze people in around us, but I decided to stand, being either a gentleman or an idiot. You’d have to ask the wife to know which one, though. Sophie smiled sadly at her brother, and touched his cheek, and if anyone had ever doubted her femininity it ended then. She looked round to us, eyes moist.
“You do this because my brother, he is polite to you once?”
Steph sat up straight. “He wasn’t polite, he was civilised, humane, everything Pat here said in his sermon. He treated me with dignity, me, a complete stranger. He showed me that it wasn’t just my beloved here, and his family, people who knew me. It could be anybody. Sophie, we have long memories here, and you have to understand that there is a reason for it all buried in the churchyard”
Janet nodded. “Yes. Alice is keeping Enid company, but she had a touch of it herself, and Sarah here. Look, I am out of the direct loop on this. My school is too young in age terms for a French assistant, but I shall ask around”
Annie nodded. “I might have a better chance, Janet. I am still doing the schools liaison bit, aye? Got rather a collection of Heads I know. Steph…depending, aye, could we put her up for a while if I find somewhere? Get her on her feet, aye?”
I couldn’t help it, and started to laugh. Sarah fixed me with one of her best mother-stares.
“Well, Hall, explain. What is so funny?”
“Darling, love of my life…”
“Continue”
“Don’t you see? This is everything I love in you, all of you. None of you has had it easy, but as soon as you see someone hurting you are there, picking them up, yeah?”
I paused a second or two before adding “That and your delightful bum, of course”
Her grin gave me all the answer I needed, and I turned back to the French girl. “Sophie, what do you think?”
She looked suddenly shy. “Would people here not…you know, hate me the same?”
Annie sat up straighter. “Let’s just say that round here we sort of have an interest in that sort of thing and, er, a very good support group. Resistance is indeed useless, girl. Want to explain it all to your brother?”
She nodded, and there was yet another burst of Foreign, this time considerably quicker and more animated than Geoff and Eric’s attempts, Roland looked hard at Annie, then at his sister, and I realised I was already doing it, shifting perspectives. I mean, there was no way on Earth I could ever find her attractive. Mickey Mouse hands, huge feet, a jawline from Desperate Dan rather than Cindy Crawford, but…but. Every thing she did, every move, every utterance, she was female. I found myself, just for an instant, having some quite negative feelings about my wife, on the basis of luck and genetics.
No, not fair. Make this work, Hall.
“Boys, girls, we seem to have a plan, so what say we blow this gaff for Simon’s bar and see how mad our resident virtuosi can get?”
Arwel rumbled. “Sure he’s got ale in?”
Geoff nodded. “I’ve done a few runs with the van, Arwel”
Hywel laughed. “Let me rephrase that: are you sure he’s got ENOUGH ale in?”
Steve then did something that made me prouder than ever of my best friend. He whispered something to Steph, and she rattled off something Froggy about ‘musique’, and Steve stood, extended his hand to Sophie and asked “Voulez-vous danser avec moi?”
His height was the thing, his height and his bulk, and as she stood she seemed small beside him, as anyone would, but for her it clearly meant something. I did catch a little flicker of her eyes towards his wedding ring, but she was clearly happy to take what she could get.
Steph led the way back to the hall, which had emptied of most of the locals but still held what I was beginning to think of as one family. Normally you have to put up with whatever fate and your relatives throw at you, but here, now, we were making our own. As the various players assembled, Steve called out “Can we have a waltz?”
Steph shouted “Dream Waltz. Darren, that’s three-four, aye?”
Steve bowed to his partner, and then took her hand and almost flowed into the ballroom hold. As the music began, they swirled off, and I was amazed at how well he danced. Clearly, he had talents that he had kept hidden, perhaps as part of the whole biker thing we had always shared. As they stepped and turned, Pat led Janet up, and Arwel Alice, Simon Merry, and more and more couples joined in. I caught Arris’ face as she beamed at her husband, so in love with him it hurt, and as I sat my own wife climbed into my lap and kissed me.
“What’s that for?”
“Just for being the man I needed to find, love; just for being you”.
She huddled in my lap as Jim led Ali round, amid half of bloody Wales, and I caught a glimpse of Roland. This time, he made no attempt to hide his tears, but looked on as his girl danced and blushed, swayed and smiled, in Steve’s arms.
That night, I lay with my wife, the dog and boy in their own tent, and Pat’s words stayed with me. Humanity….how could one ever be human without being humane?
Morning came, with a chorus of coughs and groans as people started stoves or made their way to their respective facilities. Merry was, as usual, disgustingly bloody perky as she dished out our breakfast. I had a slight case of stale-beer mouth, and needed a cup of tea, cause my useless excuse for a wife had got up to go to the ladies’ instead of serving me one in bed. I made a note to find out exactly what a shewee was, and see if it could solve that problem. I mean, if she could fill a pee bottle in the tent, she could do the same for a kettle. Just with different fluids, obviously.
Geoff came over as I piled two plates with heart attack and tomatoes. “Give us a hand later, mate? Got to set the tables and stuff out for the kids”
“You had tea in bed, didn’t you?”
“Yup. Took a while, but we now have a fully-trained boy, even if he is someone else’s”
“What, Darren?”
“No, Mark. Kelly kicks him out first thing to do our teas; she says if she must commit mortal sins in a churchyard, he can at least do the penance for her”
I laughed. “Geoffrey, your family is seriously, seriously weird, yeah?”
“Ah, Tone, I wouldn’t change then for anything. Here’s your missus; later?”
“Yeah, OK. What’s up love?”
“Those bogs. Fucking freezing! Put my arse on the seat and I thought it was going to stick to it. Pass that tea over, cariad, I need to run it through the pipes. Jim?”
“With Pie, off on some explore somewhere with Darren”
“Aye, and two girls, no doubt! Think Ali’s forgiven Darren yet?”
“As long as she has Jim, yeah. What you up to this morning?”
“Er…bit of a cliché, love. Taking Sophie over to Annie’s, give her a spruce up, aye?”
“As long as you make me a promise”
“Wossat?”
“Spend less time round your uncle. You’re starting to sound like him again”
And so it went. We blokes lifted and moved, heaved and shifted, while the Women’s Institute girls annexed the kitchen. As we set out the tables, the kids followed us round to lay out places for the guests. Someone from the hospital wandered around removing chairs where suitable for those in wheelchairs, and the smell of roasting meat grew steadily stronger. I collared Simon.
“What’s on the menu, mate?”
“Turkey, turkey and turkey, with trimmings. Between you and me, I would have gone for some other meats, but with Annie, you know…”
Shit. Of course. “Pud?”
“Done in a tray, but should be OK. Just be grateful you don’t have to peel the sprouts. You’ll be calling it women’s work, no doubt”
They started to arrive just after twelve, in a mixture of small coaches and wheelchair-friendly people carriers. They were a mix indeed. Some kids looked as if they should be out playing with my boy and his dog, but some…It was another epiphany, the knowledge pushing itself gracelessly into my mind, exactly why Simon lived as he did, did what he could. Even without his imaginary friend he clearly took delight and pride in being able to expand the world’s supply of ‘good’
They walked or rolled, or were pushed, in, and we set about sorting their places, with crackers and soft drinks. Alice and co were up to their eyeballs in WI ladies, but Steph, Annie and my wife were still missing. We were nearly ready to dish up when they appeared, Geoff’s sister-in-law Jan in tow, and…she was blushing, but there was a smile there, and I don’t know what they had done to her, but whatever it was seemed to have boosted her confidence no end. Steve looked across the room, and blew out a wolf whistle, and she turned and ran, Sar right behind. Jan sighed, shrugged theatrically and followed them into the ladies carrying a large square case. Ah.
Arris was slapping her husband’s backside, which wasn’t having much effect due to his leather jeans, and he looked a little shamefaced as he shrugged his apologies to me across the hall. Sophie was back out in a few minutes, though, and while I couldn’t see exactly what it was they had done, she looked softer, more complete, and yet she was looking around under her fringe as if awaiting a slap. I wondered what the French was for ‘arsehole’?
Before she could find her way to Roland, my wife threw her an apron. “Time for us girls to dish up, Sophie!”
Annie grinned and gave Steph a nod, and as we made the rounds of the tables with loaded plates and full glasses, our house band started to play, something classical, and the music lay there like a friend under the hubbub of happy children. Crackers were pulled, silly hats worn, dreadful jokes shared, and only one of the children threw up. Could life get any better? I keep asking that question, and the answer is always the same: yes, it could.
That night, we were let loose. Dishes done, tables cleared away, and we split the night in two. Part of it, of course, was my chance to ogle some married woman’s backside as she danced in a short skirt to our sort of music, and part of it was sitting down and watching as two of my friends went absolutely insane in the most inspired manner imaginable. There was one moment…
Steph was doing her mad ginger lunatic bit, hair going everywhere as Darren and Eric stared at her left hand, which was bent in some unnatural way and seemed to be halfway up her nose. The fiddle was screaming, and probably stunning bats, as she and Annie tore into ‘Locomotive Breath’ in what can only be called a free interpretation. Sar was completely gone, down and dirty with Arris, Chantelle, Ali and Ginny, Sophie doing all she could to keep up with them as the house band drove the rhythm and the nutters played their musical games and threw sweat everywhere. Both of them were in dresses over leggings, but Annie had heels on, and I wondered if it was like Alice’s excuse: because now, at last, she could.
She was in the middle of some lunatic bit of tongue and finger work, and I knew it was coming, and up it went, her left leg, and she was doing her best Ian Anderson pose, grunting and yelling through the flute, hair soaked to her head.
On three inch heels. It was like watching a tree fall in the forest as she slowly started to lose the vertical, and Eric just stepped forward and leant into her, not missing a beat on his guitar as she straightened her leg and stood up again. I didn’t know if it was rehearsed or not, but it was amazing either way. They knew each other so well, fitted together seamlessly. Their adopted son just grinned and carried on with his drumming, as if he had seen it all before.
And so to the end of the evening. Eric sat with his wife improvising on his guitar as she did strange and wonderful flute-based things, but the rest of us…we found our partners, or our parents, or our dog, or all three, and we finished our drinks in near silence. It had all been said, all been done.
This was our Christmas. There were presents to come, packages at home to open, letters to write, but this, this was the important bit.
Family. Friends. Love.