Chapter 8 - One Last Spring

Over the next several weeks, Gwen’s life seemed to fall into a vague routine. Most days she walked to school with Mabel. If Mabel was running late, Gwen made sure she walked within earshot of other students. The same was true on her return journey, but she also noticed that after the school bell rang, Lewis’s brother, Rowland, tended to loiter near the school doors until she left. Rowland and his friends were two years younger than Gwen and never said much to her, but they seemed to have made a habit of walking home behind her.

Despite the reassuring presence of other students nearby, Gwen was always mindful of any strangers on the street. She’d learned the hard way and tensed if she heard English voices, especially if they were coming from the direction of the Powys Arms. The warmer weather kept most of the navvies busy at the dam site or the quarry during daylight hours now, but still she kept her eyes lowered if she passed one and hoped the three men she’d encountered before had been drunk enough to never recognize her or show her unwanted attention again.

There had been quite a few times when she’d been tempted to tell Aunty Jane about the navvies who had accosted her on the street, but she’d been reluctant to mention it, partly because she didn’t want to relive the experience through the telling and partly because she really didn’t know how her aunt would react. There were days when her aunt treated her with such long-suffering that Gwen wondered if she cared about her at all. On those days, Gwen assumed her aunt would either brush off her account of the encounter as exaggeration or reprimand her for being foolish.

Every once in a while, however, Aunty Jane would say something unexpectedly thoughtful, her expression would soften, and Gwen would experience a glimmer of hope that her aunt did have kind feelings, albeit deeply hidden, for her. During those moments, Gwen considered telling her about the incident that still caused her nightmares. But the moments were fleeting and far between and were usually followed by the assignment of a new chore. The more time that passed, the harder it became to bring the issue up at all, so she remained silent.

She visited the clearing on the mountain often, and occasionally, if she was up there after the smithy closed for the day, Lewis joined her. As promised, he always whistled “Dau Gi Bach” as he neared the boulder, and she no longer jumped like a scared rabbit when he appeared in the clearing. He had also become better at gauging whether or not she wanted to talk, and on her introspective days, he simply sat on the boulder in silence, watching with her as the calm of evening fell upon the valley below.

As the weeks passed, the awkwardness between them all but disappeared, and Gwen found that she looked forward to the time they spent together. Their conversations varied from reminiscing over childhood memories to sharing their concerns for the future of Llanwddyn. Sometimes they spoke of trivial things or daily frustrations, but gradually Gwen found herself beginning to confide in Lewis the way she had always done with her brother, and she realized that in a vital way, he had truly stepped in for Robert.

One day in mid-June, Gwen made a point of waiting until the smithy was closed before heading up the mountain. She didn’t take her sketchbook this time, and when she reached the boulder, she didn’t sit as she usually did. Instead, she walked over to the nearby oak tree and stood beneath its shady arms.

Despite the lateness of the hour, the summer sun still shone brightly. Gwen took off her bonnet and let the sunlight filtering through the leaves warm her upturned face. Why couldn’t life be simple? Why were there so many decisions to make, so many unexpected bends in the road? She shook her head as though the movement would help sort her jumbled thoughts.

The whistled melody of “Dau Gi Bach” reached her, and Gwen moved away from the tree as Lewis entered the clearing.

“Hello,” he said, a look of surprise flitting across his face. “Not sitting to draw today?”

“No.”

He looked at her quizzically. “Is everything all right?”

Instead of answering him, Gwen pulled a large envelope out of her pocket. “A letter came today,” she said.

“From Robert?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. From the school in Llanfyllin.” At his look of confusion, she continued. “Several weeks back, I took the entrance exam to see if I could qualify as a boarding student there.”

“I remember,” he said. “It was the reason you were walking home late the afternoon you ran into the navvies.”

“Yes,” Gwen said. She didn’t want to go back over the events of that day. “I got the results today.”

“And?”

She pulled a piece of paper out of the envelope and handed it to him. For a few moments, Lewis focused his attention on the letter, and when he raised his head again, he seemed momentarily stunned. “You got in—and with a full scholarship!” He glanced back at the letter as though needing confirmation, but then he smiled. “You did it, Gwennie! You can keep on with your schooling and won’t even have to worry about paying for room and board.”

Gwen nodded and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. But Lewis, it seemed, was coming to know her well.

“You’re not happy?” he asked, studying her with concern.

“Of course I am,” she said. “Still in shock, perhaps, but thrilled to have done so well.” She shifted her feet uncomfortably. “At the moment, moving to Llanfyllin on my own seems a bit overwhelming, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Lewis said knowingly. “It’s that fear of change rearing its ugly head again, isn’t it?”

She groaned. “It’s pathetic, I know. My brother has gone off to sea—to India, of all places—on his own, and I’m worrying about moving twelve miles to Llanfyllin.”

“It will be fine. You could probably come home for a weekend every once in a while. Don’t worry. Llanwddyn will still be here.”

Gwen looked at him with stricken eyes, and Lewis ran his fingers through his hair. “Fine. I admit that wasn’t the most brilliant thing to say, but you know what I mean. The building of the dam’s not going to change things that fast. And you can come back to stay whenever you’re ready.” He tried a different tack. “Does your aunt know about the scholarship? What does she have to say about you going to Llanfyllin?”

“She knows,” Gwen said. “She was the one who brought me the letter.” She gave a ghost of a smile. “That’s what happens when your aunt is the postmistress.”

Lewis acknowledged the truth of that statement with a small smile of his own. “No clandestine letters in your future.”

“None,” she said so solemnly that Lewis laughed.

“Tell me what your aunt said.”

Gwen sighed. “She told me she was very happy that I’d done so well on the exam. Then she told me what a lucky girl I was to have this opportunity and that she would miss me at the house.”

“I see,” he said, and the look in his eyes told her that he really did. There had been no discussion between her and Aunty Jane, no expression of real emotion or sharing of feelings. As far as Aunty Jane was concerned, no one ever looked a gift horse in the mouth; Gwen would be leaving for Llanfyllin in September.

“Maybe she’s thinking it will be nice to have the house to herself again,” Gwen said.

“I don’t think that’s it. She’ll be very lonely with both you and Robert gone. I’m sure she’s proud of you and doesn’t want to stand in your way.”

Gwen looked down at the bonnet swinging gently back and forth in her hands and thought about what this opportunity might mean for her. There would be well-educated teachers in Llanfyllin, new academic subjects to explore, strong students with fresh ideas, students who could become her friends. For the first time since she’d read the letter, she pushed past her fears and allowed herself to explore the possibilities the scholarship presented. And as she did, her excitement began to blossom.

“Except for when I lost my parents and moved to Llanwddyn, it would be the most frightening thing I’ve ever done,” she said, turning her head slightly so she could see Lewis’s face. “But it would be a marvelous experience.”

Lewis smiled broadly. “See. You’re not so different from Robert after all. It sounds like you’re describing a journey to India by sailboat.”

“Without the seasickness or the elephants,” she said.

He laughed. “I certainly hope not. But I tell you what, if you see any animals wilder than Dai Williams’s Hereford bull there, I think you’d be completely justified in leaving Llanfyllin and never returning.”

“Well, thank you, Lewis. That’s good to know,” Gwen said, rolling her eyes. “I had no idea you would be so helpful.”

“Of course,” Lewis said with a grin. “ Anytime.” He pointed to the path. “Come on, Miss Scholarship, I’ll walk you home.”

A week later, Gwen’s fears about attending school in Llanfyllin had lessened considerably, and her anticipation of the adventures ahead had gradually increased. Aunty Jane had made Gwen’s exam results known to a few talkative customers at the post office, and several people had stopped to congratulate Gwen on the scholarship. She was thankful, however, that because of the upcoming St. John’s Day festival, her schooling was not the main topic of conversation in the village that week.

The annual festival, always held on the twenty-fourth of June, was originally established to celebrate St. John, the patron saint of the Llanwddyn church, but over the years, it had developed into an all-day event for the entire village. Activities began in the morning, with various competitions kicking things off. Those were followed by a huge football game in the afternoon and a country dance in the evening. The planning committee had worked tirelessly for weeks, and everyone was thrilled when Saturday arrived with cloudless sunshine.

That morning, Gwen and Aunty Jane made their way down the road to the large field beside the church, where the first races of the day were to be held. Children were running around excitedly, their parents talking together in small clusters. Most of the locals had taken time away from their daily work to join the celebration, and Gwen noticed there were a few navvies wandering around the field too.

It had not escaped the villagers that because St. John’s Day had fallen on a Saturday, many of the navvies not planning on traveling home for Sunday might make an appearance at the festival. Gwen found the thought unsettling. Saturday was payday at the dam, and too many of the men picked up their wages and headed straight for the Powys Arms. A few inebriated English navvies could easily spoil the traditional festival activities for everyone else.

Gwen and her aunt had barely entered the field when Reverend Jones, who was standing on a wooden box so he could be seen above the crowd, called for the start of the egg-and-spoon race. Moments later, Mabel appeared at Gwen’s side.

“Come on, Gwen. You got here just in time.” She grabbed Gwen’s arm and pulled.

Gwen glanced up at her aunt, who gave her a nod of permission and took the picnic basket from her.

“I’ll meet you by the old ash tree when it’s time to eat,” Aunty Jane said, and as Gwen hurried away, her aunt continued across the field toward a small grove of trees where some of the older members of the community were already seated, watching the festivities from the shade.