Twenty-Two
I spent the following two days desperately trying to get some alone time with Gwyn so that I could tell him how I feel and let him know my decision. Time was hard to come by, however, as preparations for the upcoming wedding were in full swing at the farm. When I finally managed to get an hour free to go and talk with him, Nan decided that we needed some bonding time and was pestering me to go with her and the rest of the family to pick flowers for the service.
Most of them had already left for the grove at the top of the hill but Nan had stayed behind to ensure my attendance. No matter how much I protested that I had things I needed to do she wouldn’t hear of it, so with a sulk, I eventually gave in to her demands.
“I don’t see why you need me to come,” I protested as she pushed me through the kitchen door and into the yard.
“Because it’s tradition,'' she replied, putting on her bonnet and making a quick march for the gate. “The wedding is tomorrow. We’re all going, so you needn’t argue.”
“Your father isn’t,” I replied.
“Father has other things to do. Stop being so quarrelsome.”
She rushed for the gate, her skirts flowing behind her and a large basket in hand, and I had to speed up to keep pace. It was unseasonably warm and by the time we turned to start walking up the hill I was already beginning to sweat, wishing she had at least allowed me time to change into something lighter.
“Mair will be there,” she added, turning to me with a devilish smile on her face.
“What’s that look for?” I asked.
“You will insist on playing the half-wit, Tom,” she laughed. “Or do you think me one? You two are as thick as thieves, always whispering and visiting with each other. What else could it be if not courtship? I take it you worked things out, then?”
“I’m not courting Mair Griffiths,” I said, laughing at how preposterous it sounded out loud. “We’re just friends.”
“If you insist,” she replied, cocking up her eyebrows.
She didn’t believe me but I didn’t waste any time protesting. “How much further is it?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Not far. We need to go through there.”
She pointed at a break in the hedge as we reached the top of the hill and I ran over, holding back the stray leaves and brambles so that she could pass through without ruining her clothes. On the other side we found ourselves in a large open field, surrounded by trees and covered in flowers, a sea of blues and pinks and yellows. I could hear the sounds of laughter in the distance, muffled by the sound of water running nearby.
I brought a hand to my eyes, shading out the sun, and stared across the field. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Over here,” Nellie called out, waving across the field to us from a grove of trees.
We turned towards her calls, Nan linking her arm in mine, and crossed the field into a small opening under a canopy of trees where the rest of the family sat shaded from the warm spring sun. A river ran nearby, slicing the grove down the middle, and Mrs Hopkin had set down some blankets for people to relax on.
“I don’t see much flower picking going on here,” I said, taking a seat next to Betty, who was leaning against a tree with her head in a book. I was surprised she was able to make the walk. The hill had wiped me out and I had none of the ailments that she had, but she seemed well and content and gave me a warm smile as I joined her.
“All in good time,” Nellie said. She reached into the basket beside her and extracted a small tin beaker, then filled it with lemonade and handed it over.
“Where are the boys?” I asked, noting the absence of Teddy and Howell.
Mair rolled her eyes at me and raised her hand to her face, extending a finger skyward. Many feet above us, balancing precariously on a thick extended branch, Gwyn smiled down at me with an excited wave, his hairy chest on full display. I hadn’t expected him to be there, but seeing him suddenly made the trip worth it. Behind him, Teddy was waiting impatiently to get past while Howell, who hadn’t made it quite as high as the others, clung to a lower branch with all four limbs as though his life depended on it.
“Are you ready?” Gwyn shouted, and Mair rolled her eyes again.
“That man will never grow up,” she said as he jumped from the tree into the river behind her. He disappeared underwater for several seconds and then re-emerged a few feet downstream. A second later Teddy made his jump, a little closer to the edge than Gwyn had, causing us all to get caught in the backsplash.
“Lord, it’s freezing,” Gwyn said as he climbed up the side of the bank and came towards us. He’d rolled up his trousers to the knee and the water running from them left little puddles on the ground wherever he stepped. “You should go in,” he said, grabbing his shirt from the ground and rubbing it across his chest.
“I’m happier just to watch,” I replied, eyeing him up as he glistened in the stray rays of sun that managed to push through the leaves above us.
“I’m starving,” Teddy said, bursting past Gwyn and kneeling down next to his mother. He rummaged through the basket and extracted a sandwich which Mrs Hopkin, with the reflexes of a cat, ripped from his hand before he could even raise it to his mouth.
“Get your brother out of that tree, now!”
Teddy burst out laughing as he spotted Howell wrapped around the branch with his face pressed into the bark but made no effort to retrieve him.