“Well I almost ended up teaching Year 1 art, no thanks to your speedy intervention.” It was difficult to stay annoyed at Llywelyn. He was laughing, not maliciously but out of genuine joy.
“You could have held your own,” he said. “I saw you in that craft shop the other day, looking at the walls like they were made of gold. I bet you know your way around art stuff backwards.”
“Well, that’s not the point,” I said quietly. I was mollified by his compliment, as well as the fact he had been watching me so closely. “Not so good with DIY though, so not sure I’ll be much use as your assistant in this case.”
“I’m sure I can find something…” Llywelyn smiled. “You know you’re not actually my assistant, it was just the easiest way to get you out of there. You can go home if you like.”
“Oh, did you want me to leave?” I asked.
“God no. I could use the company, I’m just trying to say-“
“Then I’ll stay.” I smiled up at him. Llywelyn scratched his beard idly for a second like he had lost his train of thought. “Right, yes. Fixing up the stage. Come along?”
Llywelyn led me down the corridor to the school hall. It reminded me of my own primary school, before my parents had earned enough money to send me private. The floor was worn wood and the walls painted magnolia. Around the walls, justabove head height there were words painted in Welsh that I couldn’t understand. At the end of the room there was a little wooden stage which Llywelyn had climbed up onto. I joined him, and sat with my legs dangling over the edge. He was testing each beam of wood with his feet and when one creaked extra loud he grinned at me. His smiles were impossible not to return, and I found myself smiling back.
Llywelyn took a hammer and a box full of nails from his toolbag and started hammering at the offending plank until it was no longer creaking. “Just loose, easy job,” he said. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or himself.
“I’ve been called worse,” I replied without thinking. He looked at me with wide eyes and blushed. “Sorry, automatic response.”
“N-no, it’s fine.” Llywelyn looked down and banged a nail with the hammer that I was sure had already been nailed in.
We sat in silence for a few seconds, until I found a way to get the conversation going again. “What’s written on the walls? School motto or something?”
“Would be a very long motto,” he said. “It’s the story of Dwynwen, Welsh patron saint of love. Like our St Valentine, I guess.”
“I see,” I said. “Why?”
“Because they say she blessed a spring somewhere in Hiraeth or near here. She was very unlucky in love, and wanted anyone who drank from the spring not to have the same fate.” Llywelyn scooted over and sat next to me on the edge of the stage. “Hiraeth. They say it has no direct English translation, but that’s not true. It means longing, pining for a lost love or longing for home. This village is said to be longing for love, just like Dwynwen.”
I sat quiet for a second, well aware of how close we were. “And where is the-“ The pealing of my own phone cut me off, theshrill polyphonic ringtone like something out of the early 2000s. I flipped it open. No Caller ID. “Is there somewhere I can take this?” I asked Llywelyn.
“PE supply cupboard.” Llywelyn nodded at a door in the corner of the room. “The lights don’t work though, so be careful.”
I nodded and brought the phone to my ear as I walked towards the storage cupboard. When I opened the door, I caught a glimpse of what looked like a pommel horse and some gymnastics mats on the floor. When the door closed, I was plunged into darkness.
“Hello?” I spoke into the phone.
“Ah, hello. This is Detective Butt.” I tried not to giggle again at the name but I had to pull the phone away from my mouth in case he heard me.
“Do you have any updates?” I asked. I paced small circles in the little space to make sure I didn’t knock anything over.
“Yes, only that they attempted to get back into your flat. We only know this because they tripped an alarm, but by the time an officer had gotten there they were gone.”
My blood ran cold. So they weren’t done with me. Weren’t content with robbing me and leaving me for dead. They wanted more.
“Are you still there?” PC Butt asked.
“Yes, sorry. Yes. I’m here. It’s just-”
“I understand, Mr Evans. Are you happy to stay put where you are for now?” PC Butt sounded professional but I thought I detected a note of genuine concern under it all.
“Yes, I can stay here another few days before I get back to work.”
“Thank you. We’ll keep you updated.” PC Butt hung up, and I flipped the phone back down and shoved it in my pocket.
I walked towards the door— or where I thought the door was, but must have walked in completely the wrong direction becauseI tripped over something and fell hard onto the gym mats. I shouted as I went down, more out of shock than anything else.
“Are you OK?” Llywelyn called. I saw the door open —so that’s where it was —and then close behind Llywelyn. “Where are you? Are you hurt?”
