20. A little honest advice
A LITTLE HONEST ADVICE
Ursula stopped for a breather while Howard and Brett carried on piecing together the final layer of the bothy wall.
They’d been plugging away at it for the last three days, a few hours here and there.
Finding the right stones for the right holes had taken all her concentration at first. But like any jigsaw puzzle, the more you fit in, the easier it becomes and the harder it is to block out other distractions.
Since her trip to Barmouth, more reminders of her past had insisted on providing those distractions.
This afternoon, the satisfaction of nearly finishing the wall was being marred by the memory of that Christmas Anton had spent in Germany and the subsequent fallout.
Her second Christmas as a married woman, although, woman was probably stretching it a bit.
She was twenty-two at the time but in reality, she’d been no more than a child.
And if she hadn’t been a child, then certainly the way she’d dealt with her mum and Andi’s friendship had been childish.
She’d understood that as soon as she’d said that hurtful thing to Andi, but it still didn’t stop her being ruled by childish jealousy.
When Anton returned she apologised to him for being unreasonable and threw herself into the marriage for no other reason than to spite her mum and Andi.
It was a mistake, of course, because it opened the door for him to help her grow up.
That was how he phrased it. She became his new passion project.
But the biggest mistake of all was to let it drive a wedge between her and the only two people who could have stopped her from losing herself altogether.
‘The last stone. Who wants to put it in?’ said Brett.
‘You’ve worked hardest on it. It should be you. Don’t you agree, Ursula?’ said Howard.
‘Absolutely, but I think we should mark the occasion in some way. At least by getting the others up here to witness it.’
‘Agreed. I’ll go and round them up. Don’t go away.
’ Howard went off at a pace towards the house.
These last few days seemed to have brought him out of his shell.
She wondered what he would do now that the job was done.
Her too for that matter. For a short while this work had given her some much-needed structure and now it was over, she wasn’t sure what would replace it.
Then there was Brett. As far as she could tell, this bothy had occupied him since before she arrived.
‘You’ll have some time on your hands now,’ she said.
‘Nah. Starting on another repair job in Frongoch the day after tomorrow. Gareth’s sorted it for me.’
‘Have you been here long?’
‘Coming up to a year now.’
‘Andi said Pablo brought you here.’
‘In a way. My grandad was mates with him from way back. He asked Pablo to take me in. Don’t wanna go into the details but London wasn’t working for me.
I thought I was gonna hate it here but it turned out the opposite.
I’m grateful to Pab for that. I don’t know how he could have done that to Andi though.
That was nasty. I just wanted you to know, what with you being her friend and everything, I’m on her side. ’
Ursula smiled. ‘Me too. Have you told Andi that?’
‘Don’t wanna bring him up. Can’t stand to see her upset.’ He nodded towards the house. ‘Here they come.’
The cheers went up as Brett laid the last stone.
Don produced a dusty bottle of prosecco that he’d found at the back of the larder and poured them all a drop into plastic cups that looked like they’d been found in the same place as the prosecco.
‘To the bothy. May it stay standing for many more years to come.’
They knocked back their drinks like shots, realising as soon as it hit their tongues, why it had been left so long.
Esme stuck her head around the door. ‘There’s no furniture.’
Don winced as he drained the last few dregs of prosecco. ‘All sorted, my lovely. Gareth’s bringing some up this evening. I’ve asked him to collect a few bottles of wine on the way. Megan’s coming too.’
‘Sounds like quite a party you’re planning there,’ said Andi.
Don held his hands out. ‘We’ve got a useable bothy. I’d say that was cause for a celebration, wouldn’t you?’
Everybody looked at Andi. It was as if they were holding their breaths until they saw how she was going to react. They were all the same as Brett. None of them wanted to upset her.
‘Yes, I would.’ Andi smiled and straight away, everyone else was smiling too, the relief written large across their faces.
Gareth arrived just as it was getting dark.
On the back of his truck was a small table with two chairs and a backless wooden bench that could be used as an emergency bed.
They’d come from another old bothy up in the mountains that had fallen too far into disrepair.
They carried the furniture into the boot room for the night so that Brett could finish off the inside tomorrow.
Gareth had also brought with him six bottles of wine, two dozen cans of beer, and Megan.
As soon as she was inside, Megan grabbed hold of Howard. ‘Any news on Dilys?’
His face lit up. ‘Yes, she’s much brighter today. The kids said she’s responding to the photos I’m sending.’ That explained his recent good mood then.
‘That’s promising then, isn’t it?’ Megan patted his arm. She was trying to reassure him. The trouble was she didn’t look so reassured herself.
Don banged the gong, despite everyone being in the kitchen already. ‘Right, you lovely lot. Coq au vin a la Donald is ready. Grab a seat and tuck in.’
What followed was a scramble for the best places at the table.
For once, Esme chose not to sit by Andi but instead dived for the seat next to Gareth.
It was clear the poor girl was smitten. It was less clear whether Gareth was equally smitten.
Ursula took the only remaining chair, the one at the end of the table again.
Megan and Howard were either side of her.
The food was splashed onto plates, some of them had wine, some had beer.
Almost all had something to say, much of it at the same time.
It was a dinner party unlike any Ursula had been to.
It was certainly not the kind of dinner party you’d find in a house built for silence.
It occurred to her that before she’d come to Am-nawr, the thought of something like this would have terrified her. But she was actually enjoying herself.
Megan leaned in towards her. ‘You’re a widow then, Ursula.’
‘That’s right. And you, Megan?’
‘Divorced and very happily unattached. I haven’t got time for men, to be honest. Too much like hard work, if you ask me. Present company excepted, before you say anything, Howard.’
Howard grinned at her. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it, honey.’
Megan rolled her eyes. ‘Hasn’t he got a lovely way of speaking, Ursula? I could fall for that accent in a flash. If he wasn’t my uncle and as old as my dad.’
Howard threw back his head and laughed. It was spontaneous and unexpected, and completely charming. He turned to Ursula, the creases around his eyes still showing the tracks of laughter. ‘More wine?’
She pushed her glass towards him, already feeling a bit tipsy. He topped all three glasses up. Megan leaned back in her chair, glass in hand. ‘How long you been a widow for?’
‘Six years now.’
‘Does it get any easier?’ said Howard. She sensed he was asking for himself more than anything. Preparing himself for the inevitable.
‘A little. Although, it doesn’t really feel as if I’ve let him go.
’ She realised she hadn’t given him the answer he was looking for.
She should have said there were things you could put in place, ways to manage your days.
Coping mechanisms. Just try not to let the ghost in the window frighten you.
But then again, maybe she shouldn’t have said that.
Anyway, Howard would probably be overjoyed if Dilys came back to haunt him.
When the food ran out they moved into the lounge, as many of them as possible squeezing onto the two sofas. Ursula and Howard took neighbouring armchairs that had come from the other rooms.
‘Where’s Gareth?’ said Esme.
‘He’s giving Brett a hand to find some more chairs,’ said Megan.
Esme jumped up. ‘I’ll go and help.’
Megan grabbed her arm. ‘No need, they’ll be back in a minute. Come and tell me how you’ve been getting on with the vegetable garden.’
Esme hopped from one foot to the other, as if she was ready to take flight, but Megan still had hold of her arm. When Gareth appeared in the doorway, she stopped hopping. Brett was behind him. Both were empty-handed. Esme frowned. ‘I thought you were looking for chairs.’
‘No joy. I suppose we’ll have to squeeze in with you lot.’ Gareth glanced at Brett and in that slight exchange of looks, Ursula saw that Gareth was indeed smitten, but it wasn’t with Esme.
Someone turned down the lights and the fire gave the room a warm and cosy flush.
Don put some music on. Jazz. The soft kind that made good background noise but didn’t detract from the conversation.
Anton used to play something similar at their own dinner parties for that same reason.
It was the only music he ever played. Everything had to have a function with him. If it didn’t, it was worthless.
‘You’ve gone quiet. Is everything okay?’ Howard said it too softly for the others to hear.
‘I was thinking about my husband. This music reminds me of him.’
‘He liked jazz?’
‘Liked isn’t a word that featured too much in Anton’s vocabulary.
He was a very particular man. Earlier, when you asked if it gets any easier, I think it will.
You seem to love Dilys very much. It will be hard for you when she passes away.
So hard, you’ll want to go with her. But eventually, you’ll realise that’s not possible.
You’ll find ways to get through to the next day and you’ll learn how to live without her. ’
He nodded. ‘Thank you. I appreciate your honesty.’
‘That’s how it’s been for me, anyway.’
‘Have you learned how to live without Anton now?’
‘Actually, I wasn’t talking about Anton.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I thought…’
She shook her head. ‘I have lost someone who I cherished very much, but it wasn’t my husband.
Anton and I weren’t close like you and Dilys.
But oddly, it still feels like he’s ruling my life.
I still expect him to mysteriously appear at my side and tell me I’ve left a crumb on the worktop.
Like I said, he was a very particular man. ’
‘If you don’t mind me saying, he sounds quite difficult.’
‘I got used to it.’ A vision flashed up of Anton watching her from the office window and she wondered how he was managing without her while she was away.
Considering how he felt about the place, he seemed to hate being there on his own.
At least, he hated her not being there. Which, she supposed, wasn’t the same thing.