A Night In Annwn

Tears did not come, but he thought that they would have in ‘normal’ people. ‘Too much of my Da in me to cry in public!’ he said aloud, but only because there was no other human being for miles around.

“I’m a silly old bugger, that’s what I am, aren’t I, Kiddy? A stupid, silly old bugger… Come on, let’s get on with it”.

He slid off the rock to his feet and the dog put her front paws on his thigh, looking for another pat and thrashing her tail because she could feel her master’s mood lightening. They set off and he checked his posture again.

Thirty-odd minutes later, they were walking across the patch of concrete on the summit of Jones’ Peak, or Bryn Teg – Fair Hill – to give it its real name. His goal was the bench in the corner of the concrete slab. In his earliest memories of the hilltop, the small shed where the army lookouts could get out of bad weather had still been there and when it had fallen into disuse, courting couples had taken it over.

After years of complaints from parents, and more than a few shotgun weddings, the council had taken it down. It still made him smile to remember a letter some wag had sent in to the readers’ opinion column. He had likened the shed to a pimple on the bald spot of a middle-aged man’s head. Well, the pimple had disappeared now and to mark its historical role was this park bench. If you sat on it with your back to the mountains, you felt as if you were sitting on top of the world and could see for miles.

As for the courting couples, they still went there but they all had cars these days, and contraception, or most of them anyway.

It was a lovely day. There was the inevitable breeze, but it was as weak as it got. It made his hair fly about, but it was exhilarating and made him feel glad to be alive again, although he knew that the effect was only temporary. As soon as they left that magical spot, he would wonder what it was all about again. He had known when he had had a family, but he couldn’t remember any longer.

“Come on, my lovely girl, let’s be heading back down”. It was a signal to her for a treat before starting for home. William usually took an apple or a bar of chocolate with him for energy for the homeward journey and he always gave his dog a biscuit as well. She came over to him wagging her tail in expectation.

“Good girl, Kiddy”, he soothed stroking her head with one hand while she ate the biscuits out of the other. “That’s the lot, off we go”.

As William was getting up, a car appeared on the concrete and it flashed its lights. A man of William’s age got out and so did a young girl.

“Hello, Bill. The number of times I come up yer and don’t see anyone. Anyway, I’m glad I’ve bumped into you actually. It’s my birthday today and I’m having a little do in the village pub. I’m just showing my granddaughter the magnificent view from our hill, then I’ll take her home and go on down. Do you fancy it?”

“I don’t know, Dai. Happy Birthday by the way”. He waved at the girl who remained the other side of the car stroking the dog.

“Come on, I’ll take you and your dog down in the car. Better than watching daytime TV, surely?”

“It is that without a doubt. Yes, go on then. My daughter asked me if I wanted to go down this morning. I said ‘No, I’ll leave it till tomorrow’, but this is a good reason to change my mind. You’re on!”

“Good man! Good man! If you’d been on the phone I would have rung you to give you an invite, but you won’t have one will you?”

“No fear! Bloody waste of money up yer, man… nothing works. No signal, no bloody electric half the time neither”.

“No, the world that time forgot, that’s where you live. It’s like going back a hundred years up yer… maybe two hundred…”

“If it wasn’t for this concrete slab, nothing has changed for thousands of years, Dai, thousands and thousands”.

When Dai had shown his granddaughter around the hilltop, he promised her an ice cream and they all got into the car to start their descent.

That old dog of yours pongs a bit, doesn’t she, Bill? Don’t you think it’s time she had a bath?”

“No, I do not! She is a farm working girl, not some floozy. She wants to smell like a dog so other dogs will find her attractive, not like some city girl. You won’t find another dog readier to jump into a stream than old Kiddy, but I ain’t putting no powders and perfumes on her so’s people thinks she smells nice. I don’t believe in poncifying dogs.

“She’s a dog, and if you wants a dog, you ‘as to accept that dogs don’t smell like us”.

Dai looked at his friend and agreed, but wondered whether his friend didn’t need a little ‘poncifying’ himself.

Dai drove past a shop near the village, bought his granddaughter an ice cream and took her home, then they walked a little further on down the hill to the ‘Bryn Teg’, the village public house. It was nearly four o’ clock.

William entered the pub first, but turned to hold the door open for his friend without looking inside. As Dai walked through the door, the sound of ‘Happy Birthday’ erupted. They both looked around the bar in amazement at the decorations and trimmings. The landlord and landlady, Harry and Joyce, led the birthday song accompanied by ten or twelve men and women, all of about retirement age.

“Well I never!” he said to everyone as he and William took stools at the bar and Kiddy lay down in her usual spot under a table by the door.

“Pint of bitter, Dai?” asked Harry.

“Yes, please, Harry. Who did all this?”

“It was Joyce’s idea, but a few of your friends here helped us decorate the place. Bitter for you too, Bill?”

“Aye, thanks, Harry. I’ll get these”.

“Happy Birthday, mate!” he said clinking glasses with his friend when their pints had arrived, “and many more of them”.

“Thanks, Bill. All the best, mate. I’m glad you could come. I wasn’t expecting all this though and that’s for sure. Thanks for all the trouble you’ve gone to for my birthday, everyone”, he said standing up and raising his glass to everyone. “I don’t think I’ve had a birthday party since the kids left home. It was a very kind thought. Thank you, Joyce”.

When the initial excitement caused by Dai’s entrance had died down, most of the men went back to watching a rerun of a recent football game, while others exchanged anecdotes about village life and hill farming in general.

“Fancy a game of Crib, Dai?”

“Sure. Usual stakes?”

“Aye, penny a point. Harry, the cards, please”.

Harry nodded and reached for the set. He knew what they were talking about because they had been playing Crib together for all of the nineteen years he had been the landlord of the Bryn Teg, and he had been told that they had been playing it for just as long before he had taken over.

“Shall I give Kiddy her usual as well?” asked Harry.

William looked over his shoulder to see his dog panting back at him, her tail wagging as usual whenever he paid her attention.

“Yes, please, Harry. It’s her wages for having to wait for me, and she’s come to expect them now”.

“How long has she been coming here? Ten years?”

“Twelve, but she wasn’t what you would call a regular until I sold the flock five years ago”.

“Twelve years, is it? Doesn’t time fly?” he said pouring a half a bitter into the bowl that William left behind the bar for her, and topping it up with water. He put that and a packet of Smokey-Bacon flavoured crisps on the bar and walked around the counter.

“There you are, old girl”, he said putting the bowl on yesterday’s newspaper and emptying the crisps onto it. Kiddy waited patiently, her tail wagging and her tongue hanging out. The moment that Harry had finished patting her head, she tucked into her treat.

“I love to do that for her. I actually look forward to it”, said the kind-hearted landlord.

The afternoon passed quickly, and after several games, most of which Dai won for a change, William made ready to go.

“Not going already are you, Bill?”

“Aye, I’ve had my three pints and two hours and you’ve had my money - birthday boy’s luck, so it’s time to hit the road”.

“Aw, come on, I’m enjoying winning for a change. I’ll tell you what, stay another hour and not only will I buy you a pint, but I’ll give you double stakes”.

“Oh, I don’t know”, he said but he was considering the proposition. His friend had not had to buy a drink all afternoon and he had ninety-eight pence of William’s money.