“You still haven’t told me what the big emergency is,” Gwyn said. He’d sat opposite me when we boarded, though the benches were so close together that we were having to sit with a knee between each other's legs in order to face each other.
“This,” I said, reaching into the pocket of my waistcoat. “I’m going to sell it.”
I handed him the gold ring I had received as a birthday present from my parents years before and he turned it around in his palm, studying it.
“That’s heavy,” he said, bringing it up to his eye and peering through it at me. “Where did you get it? It must be worth a fortune.”
“It was a birthday gift from my parents when I reached twenty-one.”
“You didn’t tell me you were rich,” he joked, handing me back the ring. “And here you are borrowing money from a jobless man. Have you no shame?”
I struck my knee out, knocking his away playfully. “I’m not rich,” I said. “Do you think I’d be wearing another man’s clothes if I had money of my own?”
“They look good on you.”
I turned to look out the window, an embarrassed smile forming on my face from the compliment. We were in the middle of nowhere. There was the occasional farmhouse but otherwise nothing to be seen for miles. I’d been told the village was isolated but I’d had no idea just how far away we were from any other civilization.
“Why do you want to sell it?” Gwyn asked, bringing my attention back into the vehicle.
“It’s for the Hopkins’. Money is getting tight and I need to pay my way. I’m helping where I can but mended fences and clipped ewes don’t put food on the table or coal in the fire. Selling the ring should cover me for a few weeks, hopefully.”
“Are you sure you want to?”
I looked down at it clutched in my hand and thought of my parents. I’d hardly taken it off for the last six years but I barely noticed it anymore and if it could help the Hopkin’s then selling it would be worth it.
“I don’t need a ring to remember them by,” I said. “It’s just stuff”
The carriage hit a bump causing the woman at the front to grunt and shift in her seat, before going straight back to sleep. Gwyn reached for his ribs, the jolt causing him some pain, and I instinctively reached out and put my hands on his waist.
“Are you ok?” I asked.
He looked up at me, his face just inches from mine, then glanced over to the woman at the front of the bus.
“I’m good,” he smiled, and his eyes locked on mine.
We hit another bump and I shot back in my seat, the woman now fully awake. She glanced out the window and then banged on the front of the carriage. A few moments later she moved to get off and Gwyn and I had to exit to allow her to pass.
“Jesus it’s freezing,” I said, drawing my arms across my chest to try and preserve some heat. The woman filed past us dragging her bags and walked off in the direction we’d come from. “I hope she’s not too far from home,” I said as we climbed back aboard.
“We’re not far from the city now,” Gwyn said, taking off his scarf and putting it around my neck. “We should get you some proper winter clothes.”
As the carriage ambled along the road the hills and fields made way for more buildings and about 30 minutes later we were on cobbled streets. Snow had settled on the rooftops though the roads were mostly clear so we had no trouble passing through. As we headed downhill into the city I could see the sea and a row of tall buildings lined across its front. Gwyn seemed quite amused by how excited I became by the views.
When we arrived on the main road I was surprised to see so many other carriages and people. Cwm Newydd had just one main road through the village and it was rare to see any carts or wagons on it, but the city was bustling like any other I’d seen in my own time and it felt exciting to be amongst civilisation again.
“This is us,” Gwyn said as we pulled up alongside the entrance to a long pier. We stepped out of the back of the carriage and Gwyn shouted out, ‘thank you,’ to the driver in Welsh.
“I need to find somewhere to sell the ring,” I said, looking up and down the street, “and somewhere to buy a coat.”
“Over here,” he said, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me into the road. Carriages were coming from both directions and in no particular order so we had to dodge amongst them to get to the other side of the street.
Being in front of tall imposing buildings again felt strange and I kept looking up to the rooftops as we walked along, not quite believing what I was seeing and trying not to bump into shoppers as I went. The signs were different and the contents weren’t the same, but it was remarkable how familiar it all felt to my own time. The same chatter amongst pedestrians, people from all over the world, the noise of traffic, the hustle and bustle of people going about their day. If I closed my eyes I could imagine being right back home in Cambridge.
“This is it,” Gwyn said, ducking into a shop doorway. I looked at the sign above the door. It didn’t have a name but instead said ‘Sellers of Silver’, and I followed him in.
Inside the shop looked like a warehouse that had had all of its contents picked up and shaken around, left to lie wherever they landed. Shelves on all walls went from floor to ceiling, filled with items I’d never seen before, and some that looked all too familiar. Rolls upon rolls of materials were stacked against walls and sacks of various goods were left in piles on the floor. Things were hanging from the ceiling that we had to weave in and out of and there were scales set around every few feet to weigh and measure the coming and going of goods.
At the back of the shop, a tall lanky man in an apron stood with a measuring tape around his neck and waved at us to come further in.