The Unbearable Lightness of Being in Aberystwyth by Malcolm Pryce

Author:Malcolm Pryce [Pryce, Malcolm]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Bloomsbury UK
Published: 2010-09-05T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

THE POOLS AND channels of water of the marsh blazed with the dawn sun as if the ground had torn in places to reveal the fire burning at the centre of the earth. Meredith was already up, and slamming the shovel down into the sodden peat, placing a wellington boot on the rim of the shovel and pushing down, then levering and prising the chunk of turf free like a kid trying to wiggle a milk tooth molar. I stood behind him and watched for a while and then not wishing to surprise him cleared my throat loudly. He eased up and turned to face me. A slight nod of acknowledgement.

‘Seen Seren round here recently?’ I said.

‘No.’

‘I was looking for her.’

He nodded as if such a revelation was devoid of significance.

‘Thought she might have come this way.’

‘Why would you think that?’

‘I heard she likes to play over here.’

‘I haven’t seen her.’

I took a step closer and stared into his sunburned face, eyes dark as tar. ‘Just trying to find out what happened to Myfanwy. They say Seren knows this area well, maybe she could give me some help.’

‘She can’t help you.’

‘Probably not, but sometimes you never know. Kids often see things we grown-ups miss. She might know where they could have taken her.’

‘Could have taken her across the water there to Aberdovey. Could have taken her on the train there to Shrewsbury. Could have taken her back to Aberystwyth in a car. Could have taken her out there to Ireland. Or maybe they didn’t take her anywhere, just left her here.’ He slung the spade on to his shoulder. ‘Don’t need no girl to tell you that.’

‘Which one do you think it is?’

‘I don’t.’ He made to move past me.

‘Seren was in trouble the other night.’

He stopped, but showed no interest.

‘I was over at the Waifery. She was bleeding, it looked pretty bad. They told me it was a nosebleed.’

‘And what makes you think it wasn’t?’

‘Blood was all over her face.’

He shrugged and walked past me.

‘Thought maybe Sister Cunégonde might have told you what was going on.’

He carried on walking and spoke with his back to me. ‘Why would she do that?’

‘I thought she was a friend of yours.’

He stopped and turned and took a step up to me. I thought he was going to hit me but he didn’t. Underneath it all he was a rough but gentle man.

‘We’re not friends.’

I considered his answer and then said, ‘What’s it like to kiss a nun?’

That’s when he hit me. He didn’t do it immediately. He paused long enough to make it appear that the moment had come and gone and then swung fast and viciously. I lay on the ground, head swimming, my cheek half-submerged in cold wet pond water. He stood over me and looked down. I climbed slowly to my feet, looked at him and said, ‘Mind if I get my hat.’ He said nothing so I bent down to retrieve it but picked up a wooden stake instead and swung it against the side of his head.

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