Chapter 21 - One Last Spring

The sky was overcast, threatening rain as Gwen and Thomas walked through the village. Mrs. Williams the Shop gave them an inquiring look through the shop window as they passed, and Ioan Llanwddyn raised his hand in greeting from his spot on the ground beside Pont Cedig. But no one stopped to talk with them, and Thomas made use of the time to ask her questions about the village and the people who lived there.

The time passed quickly, and when she could hear the sound of men’s shouts over the roar of the cranes and the squeal of metal wheels on metal tracks, Gwen knew they were getting close. Feeling a little like Daniel walking into the lions’ den, she instinctively slowed her pace.

Thomas noticed and gave her an encouraging smile. “It will be fine,” he said. “I’ll take you to the office first and show you the designs. That way when we go on-site you’ll have a better understanding of the big picture.”

“All right,” Gwen said, trying not to flinch as an enormous thud shook the earth.

Thomas didn’t seem to notice that the ground beneath their feet had shaken. He led the way along a well-worn path, seemingly oblivious to the noise and dust in the air around them. He’d been right; no one was working nearby. To her right, a pile of dirt and rubble exposed the bedrock that lay far beneath them. Men, like ants, moved around on the enormous mound of earth, navigating the large rocks and the wooden scaffolding, focusing their attention on the stone wall that towered above their heads. Rickety railroad tracks led all the way to the cranes that stood over the waiting railroad cars.

Fascinated by the sight, Gwen’s footsteps faltered.

Beside her, she heard Thomas chuckle. “Come along,” he said. “I promise to show you everything, but we should start at the beginning.”

He walked a few more yards and opened the door of a nearby building, stepping back so she could precede him inside. Rolls and rolls of paper covered every surface area in the small room. An assortment of mysterious objects that she assumed were engineering tools fought for space with rulers, protractors, pencils, pens, and ink. At first glance, it looked like complete chaos, but Thomas did not seem the least deterred. He stepped up to one of the tables and unrolled a large sheet of paper.

“Here it is,” he said. “Our ultimate goal. It will be the first masonry dam in Britain and will form the largest reservoir in Europe.”

Gwen moved closer and gazed down at a sketch of the completed Vyrnwy Dam. The design in front of her was grander than anything she could have imagined. Thomas pointed to a series of arches that ran along the upper edge of the retaining wall.

“This will be the first dam ever to carry the overflow water over its crest instead of through a channel cut into the hillside,” he said. “Any excess water in the reservoir will run down the face of the angled retaining wall into the river below.”

Gwen nodded her understanding. “And the road will be built on top of the archways.”

“That’s right,” Thomas said. “Some of the old roads have already been graded and modified to accommodate all the equipment we had to bring in, but when all is said and done, there will be eleven miles of new road around the reservoir.”

“What’s this?” Gwen pointed at a tall tower standing in the water at the edge of the lake.

“That’s the straining tower,” he said. “The water from the reservoir will go through the straining tower before entering a sixty-eight mile aqueduct that will take it to Liverpool.”

“It doesn’t look very Welsh,” Gwen said, studying the round tower with its conical copper roof more carefully.

Thomas laughed. “I agree. I had nothing to do with the straining tower design, but someone told me it’s supposed to look like one of the castles on the Rhine in Germany. It’s attractive but perhaps a little out of keeping with its surroundings.”

“A bit,” Gwen said. “It looks like it belongs in my book of fairy tales.”

“It does look sort of magical,” Thomas said.

Gwen rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I’d go quite that far.”

With a grin, Thomas moved over to the next table and began unrolling some of the blueprints. “Come and see how the outlet chambers work,” he said.

When they stepped outside half an hour later, Gwen understood why Thomas had insisted she see the paperwork first. Now that she knew the direction each part of the project was to take, she could tell which sections were near completion and which were just beginning to take shape. She viewed the massive retaining wall as a giant jigsaw puzzle, with enormous blocks of stone making up the bulk of it but with steps, ledges, arches, tunnels, and decorative masonry strategically placed to add form and function. Even the ugly wooden scaffolding was easier to forgive now that she could see its specific purpose.

She followed Thomas around some enormous boulders toward the closest crane. It looked as though two men were inside the control box, and four or five were standing at its base, where more boulders lay in seemingly haphazard formations beside the railroad tracks.

As Gwen and Thomas drew nearer, one of the men broke away from the others and walked to meet them. His worn clothes, hat, and shoes were covered in fine powder, and when he tried brushing his hands off on his trousers, he sent a small puff of dust into the air. “’Morning, Mr. Henley,” he said, offering Thomas his hand.

Thomas shook it. “Good morning, Harry,” he said. “I want to introduce you to Gwen Humphreys. She’s a local artist, and I’m showing her around the site with the idea that she might come back to draw some pictures of the dam as it goes up.”

“Very nice,” Harry said. He turned to Gwen and offered her his hand too. “Harry Weston. Pleased to meet you, miss.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Gwen said.

“Harry’s one of our gangers,” Thomas explained, “which means he’s in charge of one of the cranes and a certain number of masons and laborers.” Ignoring the coating of dust on Harry’s jacket, Thomas placed his hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Harry’s a good man and can be trusted. If you ever come to sketch when I’m not available, Harry here will watch out for you.”

Harry shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I’d be ’appy to, miss.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Gwen said.

The ganger bobbed his head in her direction before turning back to Thomas. “Will you be needing anything else, sir?”

“No, thank you, Harry. You’ve been most helpful. I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said before hurrying back to his waiting crane.

Thomas and Gwen made their way over to the railroad ties Gwen had included in her earlier drawing. The pile was significantly bigger than it had seemed from the mountain. Gwen stepped up onto the third tier of wood. From that spot, she could see the entire length of the dam.

“Well,” Thomas asked from below, “will you come back and draw this?”

Gwen watched the long arm of Harry’s crane swing to the right as the men below gathered around a boxcar full of rock. Her fingers were itching to start sketching all that she’d already seen. “You’re sure it’s all right that I be here?” she asked.

“If ever it’s not, Harry or I will inform you,” he said.

“Then I’ll come,” she said. “I’ll do as you suggested and draw what I can see from this spot.”

Thomas gave a broad smile. “Excellent,” he said, holding out his hand to help her down from the logs. “I look forward to seeing your work.”

A little hesitantly, Gwen accepted his hand. She was fairly sure this wasn’t the decorous distance her aunt had had in mind, so she relinquished his hand as soon as her feet were safely on the ground, then moved a few steps back.

“May I ask you a question now?” Gwen ventured.

“Of course.”

“How do you know my last name? You introduced me to Harry as Gwen Humphreys, but I made a point of not telling you my full name when we met.”

“So I noticed,” Thomas said, his mouth quirking up as he fought back a smile.

“But you know it.”

This time he chuckled. “It was very easy to discover,” he said. “I simply walked into the local shop and asked the proprietor if she knew a Gwen with long, chestnut-colored hair who lived in Llanwddyn. We had a little problem translating chestnut, but when I changed the word to pretty, she said, ‘Ah, yes, Gwen Humphreys from the post office.’ I walked straight from the shop to the post office, and there you were.”

Not quite sure how to respond to his description of her hair, Gwen quickly decided her best recourse was to focus on the translation issue rather than his choice of words. “You’ve probably noticed the younger people in the village speak better English than the older ones,” she said.

Thomas nodded. “Yes, but your English is far better than anyone else’s I’ve met. You seem to understand everything I say, and you speak it well.”

“I’ve had more exposure to English than most people in Llanwddyn,” she said. “The younger ones have picked it up from the navvies, but I spent some time at a school where English was taught and where I had English-speaking friends.”

“Well, I’m very glad,” Thomas said, “because I like talking to you.”

At that moment, Gwen realized she could echo his sentiment; she’d genuinely enjoyed her time with Thomas. “Thank you,” she said, giving him a shy smile.

A rumble sounded in the distance, but this time it had nothing to do with the construction and everything to do with the gray skies. They both looked up.

“Come on,” Thomas said. “I’d better get you back to the village before the rain starts.”

Half a dozen huge drops fell at their feet.

“I think it might already be too late,” Gwen said.

He groaned. “And that’s why this is such a great place for a reservoir.”

Gwen raised her shawl so it covered her head. “There’s no point in you getting wet when you don’t need to. I can run home in no time. “

“I can’t let you go on your own,” Thomas said, looking shocked.

“Of course you can.” She laughed. “I’m very used to this. I’m out in the rain all the time.” She backed up a few paces. “Thank you for showing me everything . . . and for inviting me back.”

“But, Gwen . . .” he began.

“I’ll return when the weather clears up,” she said, and with a wave, she started running down the path that led to the village road.

“Gwen!”

She heard him call her name again, but she ignored it. It really was quite pointless for him to go back and forth in the rain when she was perfectly capable of getting home on her own.