Chapter 35 - One Last Spring

Ten days later, Gwen did not get out of bed with the joyful anticipation she’d experienced since Lewis had declared his love for her. She’d spent so much time at the Morgans’s home and had been so consumed with helping Lewis through his illness that the everyday occurrences and the ongoing changes in the village had passed by virtually unnoticed. But this was a day she could not ignore.

Gwen had received word two days before that her parents’ coffins were to be disinterred today, so rather than going to see Lewis, she would be joining her aunt at the cemetery.

Her thoughts were on her parents as she slowly dressed in her navy-blue skirt and light-gray shirt. She missed her father’s contagious smile and ready laugh and her mother’s warmth and enthusiasm. She was confident that they would have liked Lewis, and when she experienced a pang of regret that they would not know one another in this life, she held fast to her faith that sometime in the future, they would meet each other.

When she went downstairs, Aunty Jane, dressed in a somber black dress, was waiting for her. Gwen could not help but be impressed by how well her aunt had faced the challenges brought on by her stroke months before. Although she now moved slowly and with the aid of a cane, she was able to get around by herself. She’d worked hard to reclaim self-sufficiency in dressing, preparing meals, and working at the post office, and only when she was very tired did her speech become slightly slurred and she favor her left side over her right.

Aunty Jane did recognize her limitations, however, and even though she was accompanying Gwen to the current cemetery, she’d already determined that the two-mile walk to the new cemetery would be too far for her. After the coffins were raised, she planned to leave so she could open the post office while Gwen followed the cart to her parents’ new resting place.

The sky was appropriately overcast as the two women walked to the chapel. They said very little, each keeping their thoughts to themselves, and when they arrived, neither one mentioned the horse and cart waiting at the cemetery gate. They followed the well-worn path that led behind the chapel and found two men waiting for them, each holding a shovel. Already the cemetery bore witness to the Liverpool Corporation’s work. Like new brown patches on an old green blanket, rectangles of freshly turned soil lay scattered amongst the grave sites. The turf above Gwen’s parents’ graves had already been removed and stacked to one side, but the ground beneath lay untouched.

“Miss Humphreys?” the older of the two men asked.

“Yes,” Gwen said. “And this is my aunt Jane Jones.”

Both men pulled on the brims of their hats in greeting.

“I’m glad you could be here,” the man said. “We know this is difficult for the families, but we’ll be as respectful as we can, given what has to be done.”

“Thank you,” Gwen said, grateful that the Liverpool Corporation had given this assignment to men who spoke their language and shared their religious values.

“Right then,” the man said. “If you’re ready, we’ll get started. We’ve already moved the headstones onto the cart. We’ll keep them with the coffins. The minister is planning to meet us at the other cemetery to help with the reinterment.”

Gwen gave a nod of assent, and the men started to dig. The steady grate of metal against moist earth continued for a few minutes until the younger man’s shovel hit something hard. The clunking sound jarred Gwen, and suddenly it wasn’t as easy to stand and watch. She looked off into the distance, focusing on a bird sailing effortlessly in the sky above the river.

The memories came easily, tumbling over each other as though waiting for release: Quiet times spent curled up on her father’s knee as he read aloud from her book of fairy tales. Her father pushing her on the rope swing that hung from the apple tree in their back garden, his laughter echoing hers as she flew higher and higher. Her mother sitting under the shade of that same apple tree, teaching her to make daisy chains and crowning her with a wilted daisy coronet before they went inside for tea.

One of the shovels scraped across the top of a casket, and Gwen felt a single tear roll down her cheek. This physical reminder that her parents were gone brought with it a renewed sense of grief, but so too came the feeling that her mother and father were not far away and that they still cared deeply for her. Gwen closed her eyes, clinging to that thought.

At the sound of movement to her right, Gwen turned her head, unable to prevent a gasp as Lewis appeared at her side.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered.

“I didn’t want you to follow the caskets alone,” he said.

“But your quarantine . . .”

He smiled. “Dr. Edwards stopped by first thing this morning. He’s given me the all clear.”

Unbidden, another tear fell, and Lewis reached out to gently wipe it away before moving to stand beside her. Then he took her hand and held it tightly as the men continued to dig until they had exposed two coffins lying beside each other. Running thick rope beneath the coffins, the workmen slowly eased the caskets upward, setting them gently on the ground before carrying them one at a time to the waiting cart.

While Gwen watched the two men lift the coffins onto the back of the cart and drape them with black fabric, Lewis walked Aunty Jane to the cemetery gate. By the time he returned, the two men had climbed onto the cart and Gwen had taken her place behind it. Lewis stepped up to her and took her arm.

“I spoke to your aunt,” he said softly. “It seems that working at the smithy in Pen-y-Bont Fawr has improved my eligibility. In case you had any doubts, you and I are officially courting.”

Gwen gave him a shy smile. “I’m glad she’s come around. I’m sure I gave away my feelings for you the day you arrived back in Llanwddyn with the measles.” She leaned her head against Lewis’s shoulder and looked over at the shrouded coffins. “I think my mam and dad would be pleased.”

He smiled at her tenderly. “I think mine will be too.”

They followed the slow-moving cart all the way to the new cemetery. The minister was there to meet them, and after expressing his pleasure over Lewis’s recovery, he rededicated Gwen’s parents’ graves and watched with Gwen and Lewis as the men covered the coffins with earth once more.

Even though they no longer had a funeral cart to follow, Lewis and Gwen took their time walking back to the village. Gwen was concerned that Lewis not overexert himself on his first day out after two weeks of illness, and Lewis wanted to prolong every moment outside after having been cooped up indoors for so long.

“Will you promise me you’ll go straight home and rest?” Gwen asked when they arrived outside her house.

“Yes, nurse,” he said, feigning deference.

Gwen shook her finger at him. “I was your nurse, and I don’t want to see you that poorly ever again,” she said.

“I’ll lie down,” he promised. “What are you going to do this afternoon?”

Gwen looked over at the nearby mountain. “I think I’ll spend a little time sitting on my boulder in the clearing,” she said.

He gave her an understanding look. “That sounds like a good idea.”

She nodded. “Today was harder than I’d anticipated, but having you with me helped make it bearable.”

Lewis leaned closer and kissed her cheek. “I’m glad,” he said simply.

She smiled and opened the gate that led to the back door. “Good-bye, Lewis.”

He gave her an answering smile. “Good-bye, Gwennie.”

There was something about the Vyrnwy valley that spoke to Gwen’s soul. Its untamed beauty brought her peace, and the timeless hills brought her security. As she sat on the boulder in the clearing and looked down on the scene below, she marveled that despite all that had occurred over the last few years, her personal connection with this special place had never diminished.

The dam’s retaining wall had risen considerably since she’d last seen it, but thanks to Robert, Thomas, and Harry, she no longer looked on it with anger and resentment but rather with poignant acceptance. Growing up in this valley, she’d been blessed with the kind of childhood the poor children of Liverpool could only dream of, but because of the dam, those children would eventually taste of its pure, clean water.

She did not believe that anyone could deny that the sacrifice the Liverpool Corporation had forced upon the people of Llanwddyn was monumental—she’d just participated in the reinterment of her parents’ graves, and within a few short years, her entire village would be gone—but at least now she understood that Liverpool’s need was just as great. For the first time, she recognized that over the last few years she had changed perhaps as much as her beloved valley.

A bird flew past, interrupting her quiet contemplation. It landed on a nearby branch, cocked its head, and trilled a bright song. Gwen glanced down at the sketchbook on her knee, wondering if the little robin would stay long enough for her to capture his cheeky personality on paper. Her question was answered almost immediately as another whistle filled the air, one she hadn’t heard in over a year. With a flurry of feathers, the robin took off, and Gwen was on her feet before the last notes of “Dau Gi Bach” faded.

“You came,” she said as Lewis entered the clearing.

“I did lie down for a little while because I knew you needed some time alone,” he said, “but I couldn’t stay away for long.” He moved closer and wrapped his arms around her. “How are you feeling?” he asked with genuine concern.

“Grateful,” she said.

A slow smile replaced his anxious expression. “So am I,” he said.

She leaned into him, resting her cheek against his chest. With one hand, he tightened his hold around her waist. With the other, he gently fingered the ringlets framing her face.

“I’ve always loved your curls,” he said softly.

Without a word, Gwen reached for the ribbon at the bottom of her braid and pulled it off. In a matter of seconds, she’d run her fingers through her hair so it was flowing in gentle waves halfway down her back. Then she looked up at Lewis, her trusting green eyes meeting his adoring blue ones.

“Oh, Gwennie,” he whispered, and then at last he lowered his lips to hers.