'Well, yes.'
'I see.'
At no point could Alun have said what he meant by his last question. But whatever it might have been intended to convey - surprise, resignation, outrage, boredom, disappointment, fatherly concern, heartfelt co- masculine approval- he of all people had no business to be asking it in front of these two, or perhaps anywhere on earth. This dawned on him a bit at a time while he stood there taking in the information. Then he suddenly said, 'You know if by any chance this ridiculous weather carries on, we could probably do worse than go down to Birdarthur for a couple of days. Old Dai the Books still keeps up his place on the cliff there. Sophie, you've stayed in that cottage, haven't you?'
'Oh, I'm included in this, am I?'
'Why not, there's two decent bedrooms and Charlie can leave Victor at the tiller for a spell. Not next week because I'm filming then. Dai's only ever there at weekends, he was telling me. I didn't manage to get him at the shop today... '
It would have been miraculous if he had, not having gone within a league of the place, tried it by telephone or even admitted Dai the Books to his thoughts more than a few seconds before pronouncing the name, though the facts were as stated. Anyway, with his talents for persuasion, which had less to do with direct pressure than with making something sound fun for long enough, he soon had Sophie's assent to the Birdarthur project with Charlie's thereby taken for granted. Rhiannon's had been taken for granted from the start.
'Well, I'm off,' said Alun finally. 'Don't break the party up on my account, now.'
'You needn't think you're going to get away like that, _was__,' said Rhiannon.
Into Thy hands, O Lord, thought Alun to himself.
Although he often said where he was going, or might have been going, he never said where he had been, nor did Rhiannon ever ask until... unless...
'You take that creature out, outside, and then settle her down in her basket in the kitchen. And mind you wait and make sure before you let her back in.'
Enfeebled by the exertions of her day, Nelly had responded to Alun's arrival with no more than a couple of paltry thumps of her tail and a lunatic gleam out of the very corners of her eyes. Now, hearing herself referred to, she made a slovenly attempt to sit up and did a thorough squeaking yawn that would have been quite impressive in an animal of any size. He took her away as bidden, but in a style that emphasized his decency in doing so, his detachment from the whole concern. It was not that he disliked the puppy, rather the contrary: he just could not afford to let it be thought that he could be roped in any old time to minister to her needs. Why, next thing he knew he would be rushing back from Griff's or somewhere to give the bloody hound her tea!
7
When the door had shut behind Alun there were two releases of breath of which neither quite amounted to a sigh of relief. Sophie lowered herself to the floor, twisted her head about till it rested comfortably against the arm of the chair behind her and said she must be going. Rhiannon suggested more coffee, adding that it would only take a minute, and rearranged her legs under her on the sofa. They sat in a more or less habitable corner of the room with bare boards and half-decorated walls hardly out of reach.
Sophie had probably missed the coffee proposal altogether. 'You ought to get out more, you know, Rhi,' she said.
'Oh no. It's so lovely not having to after years of not wanting to and having to. '
'It'd be easier if you learnt to drive.'
'Not you too,' said Rhiannon, bouncing upright. 'I can drive as well as anybody if I haven't actually forgotten how. I drove a dry-cleaner's van for eighteen months in London when we were hard up. It's not I can't drive, it's I don't drive. There being no car except the one with Alun in it. Can't afford a second car, he says, at least he'd say if I brought it up again ever. He does all the shopping I can't do round the corner and if I want to go anywhere there's a minicab. Much cheaper than running another car ourselves. And no parking problem. He'd say that too. You try him.'
'Funny, he's never been one to pinch the pennies. I mean... ' Sophie looked about her, but there was little evidence of lavishness except perhaps the only picture so far on display, a large Cydd Tomas over the fireplace, dated 1981 under the artist's signature and yet attractive enough - it very likely showed Dragon's Head from the sea - to be almost worth its place on that ground alone.
'Sure, no trouble there,' said Rhiannon, 'but it's nothing to do with that, the point is with him having the car nobody ever knows where he is, and me not having a car, everybody knows where I am, only that's not nearly so interesting. Take tonight, now.'
'M'm. Any idea where he'd been?'
'Not the faintest, have you?'
'I only hope it was somebody sensible.'
'Oh, me too.' Rhiannon paused before going on. 'How was Gwen really?'
'Oh. Coming round, I reckon. Still a bit shirty but going to be okay as long as he doesn't make any waves for a bit.'
'If only he had the sense to keep it in the family, sort of.'
'I know,' said Sophie, 'I couldn't agree with you more.
Especially now he's down here. It's not like London down here.'
'Absolutely. It's silly of him in another way too. It lands up there are things we can't talk about, him and me. I don't mean important things, I mean unimportant things, but they're still quite important when you add them together. Who was there and how they seemed and what was said... At least it makes it harder.'
'M'm. Is he all right, Rhi, do you think?'
'All right?' repeated Rhiannon in alarm. 'How do you mean?'
'No, nothing, he just seems to have got a bit wild. You'd think he'd know by now not to take up with Gwen
