Fourteen
By the time New Year’s Eve rolled around the snowfall had subsided and most of what was on the ground had melted, which meant a return to work at the farm. Gwyn and I had agreed to only see each other occasionally so that we didn’t raise suspicions. It was getting harder to explain his frequent visits to the farm, and my disappearances to his house when I should have been working was leaving jobs undone, much to the annoyance of Mr Hopkin.
Earlier in the day during a discussion with Gwyn, he'd told me that unlike in my own time it was not customary to have celebrations on New Year’s Eve and instead all festivities would take place the following day to welcome in the New Year. I confirmed this with Mrs Hopkin, who informed me that we would be having another large family dinner followed by a small gathering of friends in the evening, to which Mair and Gwyn would be invited.
I hatched a plan to get some time alone with Gwyn and mentioned to Mrs Hopkin that it was traditional where I came from to spend the evening of New Year’s Eve in the pub, which I had hoped would allow me the chance to be out until late without question. What I had not reckoned with, however, was Gethin deciding that this was a custom that he would very much like to adopt and deciding to join me.
Gwyn had found the whole situation quite amusing but argued that it was better to spend time together in the company of others than not to spend time together at all, so we planned to meet in The Farmers’ and hoped that we could either make excuses to leave early or that the Gethin would do so instead.
By mid-afternoon, Nan and Betty were busy helping their mother sweep out the hearths of each fireplace, in what I was told was an effort to usher in good luck for the coming year. The superstition must have extended across the whole house because by the time we left for the pub every surface, nook and cranny was sparkling, all the washing had been done, every item in every room put into the right spot, and the whole place was gleaming. It looked better than I’d ever seen it.
Nellie, who seemed a tad put out by Gethin coming along with us for the evening, had tried to convince him to stay and spend time with her, which I wholly encouraged, but he stood firm and she was left reading one of her medical books in the sitting room with a sulk on her face.
When we got to the village Gwyn and Mair were waiting outside for us and I could barely contain my smile at seeing him as I walked toward them.
“Out for a stroll, Miss Griffiths?” Gethin asked as we approached.
“In this weather?” she replied. “I don’t think so.”
Gethin looked gobsmacked. He was a nice chap but he seemed to have clear ideas of what people’s roles and expectations were, and drinking with a woman was obviously something he never anticipated doing. “You aren’t planning to come inside, surely?”
“Watch me,” she said, and she pulled the door open and strutted into the pub. Gwyn just shrugged and shook his head. I knew he’d have had little say in the matter.
The pub was like most others I’d been to in old villages, with an overabundance of wood panelling, a few tables dotted around with stools and some comfier looking seats with cushions over in the corner. Dai, the landlord, stood at the bar with a towel over his shoulder offering service with a smile to anyone who approached but the sight of Mair had him rattled.
“You can’t drink in here, Miss Griffiths,” he said, leaning up against the bar.
“She is,” Mair replied, loudly indicating to a woman on the other side of the room. “Besides, I’m not here to drink, I’m here to make sure these men stay out of trouble, so I’ll be having lemonade. In a proper glass. And you can bring it over.” She placed herself down on a stool before he could protest and I grinned at her audacity.
“You better vouch for your sister, Gwynfor,” he said, getting Mair’s glass ready. “We don’t want no women in here causing a scene. You know how they get.”
“I’ll mind her, Dai,” he called back, and it seemed that Mair’s battle was won.
“This is quite peculiar, isn’t it?” Gethin said. He sat down looking at Mair, bemused. “Wouldn’t you rather be in the snug with the other ladies? Do they have one of those here?”
“I’m quite fine where I am, thank you,” she replied.
“Right,” Gwyn said, changing the topic, “What’re we drinking?”
Dai had a good selection of ales and liquors on the shelf behind the counter, some of which I even recognised from my own time, but the dust that gathered over most of them was a good indication that the local clientele didn’t have much taste for anything other than tankards of ale. I considered getting a glass of gin, but the suggestion caused the whole table to fall quiet and stare at me as though I’d just spoken a foreign language, so I quickly passed that one off as a joke and said no more about it.
The evening hadn’t brought much custom to the bar, and after over two hours of being there, only one other small group had taken up space at one of the tables. Despite my urgency to escape the pub and find my way back to Gwyn’s bedroom, I had found myself enjoying the evening. Mair was in fine form with her wit, which kept the table in fits of laughter, and every now and then I would feel Gwyn’s foot brush against mine which kept the anticipation ramped up for our eventual liaison.
Gethin had appeared to be enjoying himself throughout the evening but as time wore on I had been running out of things to talk to him about so it came as a bit of a relief when he checked his pocket watch and faked a yawn for our expense, indicating that he was ready to leave.
“It’s been fun gentleman, Miss Griffiths,” he said, standing up and giving a little bow to the table, “but I should be on my way.”
“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” I said, standing to shake his hand and wondering if I should have perhaps protested a little to at least make it seem like I wanted him to stay.
He put on his coat and scarf and made for the door. As he pulled it open Arthur Morgan walked in and we immediately caught his attention. Gethin tipped his hat to him and then ducked out the door into the night while Arthur made his way to the bar.
“That’s all we need,” Mair said, loud enough for him to hear. He ordered a drink and then turned and flashed her a smile. For a second I thought she might get up to give him a piece of her mind but she continued to stare at him, the disgust written all over her face.
Once served, he picked his drink up from the counter and moved to sit at the table right next to us. He had the whole room to choose from but it seemed he wanted to make a point. “Gwynfor,” he said with a tip of his hat, completely ignoring my presence. His greasy smile seemed entirely forced and though he was sitting alone he acted as though he owned the whole room. Everything about him, from the way he sat to the way he held his drink reeked of arrogance.
Gwyn was aware of all the issues I’d faced with him and remained silent when he’d attempted to greet him.
“You used to keep better company, Gwyn,” he added, determined to get his reaction.