‘I thought I’d go into town this afternoon and see him.’ Eléni stood and brought over her sketchbook to show her friend herlatest pen-and-ink drawings. ‘At least having this time on my hands means I’ve been busy with these. Thank goodness I hadn’t broken my drawing hand. What do you think?’
‘Oh, these are fab, Eléni. The detail is amazing. I’m sure Mr Williams will be interested once these are framed. The more local to Porth Gwyn the subject is, the better. I love this one of the Rock Park Pavilion. Look at all the scrollwork under the roof.’
‘Thanks. I’ve been building up a portfolio of them and concentrating on local scenes. I’ve been experimenting with coloured inks too, but I’m not sure.’ Eléni held up a drawing of the boathouse at the lake she’d drawn in green and blue inks, as well as her usual use of traditional black.
Gabriella’s mouth gaped open. ‘Oh, I love it. You know me and colour.’
Eléni smiled as she thought back to the kaleidoscope of colours in Gabriella’s wardrobe. She gathered up her sketchbook and placed it in a canvas bag. ‘Come on, I’ll get my coat and walk back into town with you. You’ll have to help me get it on and button it for me, if you don’t mind. And could you carry the bag for me, please? Thanks.’
The two friends walked into the hallway and Eléni handed Gabriella her coat from the bentwood coat stand. After Eléni had slipped her good arm into its sleeve, with some manoeuvring, Gabriella fastened her friend’s coat over her sling.
‘I’m counting the days until this bloomin’ cast can come off. It’s itchy as hell, too.’
The two continued chatting as they walked into town from Eléni’s house. They passed a terrace of red-brick houses with neat, narrow front gardens. Most of them were illuminated with clumps of vibrant daffodils and crocuses that showed spring had finally arrived. This was further evidenced when they passed awide sloping field where a few baby lambs gambolled around their mothers, their tiny tails wriggling as they sought milk.
‘I love this time of year,’ said Gabriella. ‘All the awful grey of winter has gone.’
It was true, thought Eléni. Now the cloud of not being able to speak had lifted, her monotone mood had faded too. Seeing the vibrant spring colours seemed to reflect her frame of mind. She hadn’t told a soul, not even Gabriella, but she was more determined than ever to travel to the country of her birth and find her uncle. She would make plans and when she was ready, she would tell everyone then. Before long, they were walking along the main street into Porth Gwyn. Opposite the late Victorian hotel where Eléni was hoping to get work, they turned into a road to the left.Siop Crefft, the Welsh craft shop, with its large picture bay windows gleaming on either side of a wide glass door, was situated a little way up from the halt sign.
‘I’ll come with you to carry the bag in and then I’ll leave you to it. After my shift tomorrow, perhaps we can go to Smoky Joe’s for a coffee?’
The bell rang as they opened the door. Mr Williams looked up from behind the counter and when he noticed Eléni, he smiled. ‘Oh, it’s so good to see you,bach. Your good friend here has been keeping me up to date with what’s going on.’
‘I’ll put the bag here. I’ll be off, Mr Williams. See you for a coffee tomorrow, Eléni.’
‘Okay, Gabriella. There’s nothing to report. I’m expecting a new delivery of the Welsh love spoons tomorrow, so if you’ve got time to unpack them and price them, that would be fine. Trade’s been very slow today, but it would appear there’s a coach tour due in across the road tomorrow, so we should get more customers in then.’
‘Bye, and thanks, Gabbie. I’ll see you then.’
Eléni enjoyed the days when the shop was busy. Talking to the customers about the Welsh crafts on sale was what she loved most about the job. She made it her business to find out as much as she could about the artists and craftspeople who exhibited there.
Mr Williams brought a fold-up chair from the stockroom for Eléni to sit down.
‘Now, then,bach. Are you sure you’re ready to come back to work?’
‘I am. I can’t wait to get back.’
The look on the elderly man’s face was one of relief. ‘Well. If you’re sure, how about you just work a few hours in the morning next week and I take over from you in the afternoons? There are no coach tours booked in so you shouldn’t be too busy. How does that sound?’
Eléni beamed. ‘Perfect, Mr Williams.’
Together they looked at her new drawings and, as Gabriella had predicted, he was very interested.
‘These are your best yet,bach. All the local scenes will sell. The visitors can’t seem to get enough of the lake and the Rock Park, so I’ll buy these six from you.’
‘Oh, thank you. That’s wonderful! I haven’t wasted my time at home then.’
It would all help with building up her savings ready for her trip to Kefalonia.
After speaking to Mr Williams, Eléni made her way across to Porth Gwyn Library. The solid red-brick building was set back from the street in the immaculate town grounds, which were set out in lawns and gardens. The focal point was the war memorial on which were the names of those who had lost their lives in the two world wars. Eléni’s baba had never missed an armistice parade each November if he’d been home on leave when they’d lived in Cardiff and did the same in Porth Gwyn, rememberingmen like himself who had been members of the armed forces protecting their country.
She entered the quiet building and approached the desk where a grey-haired woman was busy sorting the books from a shelf markedreturns.
‘Excuse me. Where would I find a section with old newspapers, please? 1953 to be precise.’
The woman stopped what she was doing and turned to Eléni.
‘If you go through the double glass doors on your right, you’ll find the archive section in there. They’re arranged in year order. TheCeltic Chronicle, the Welsh daily paper, is in the centre of the room along with the main British dailies. All are displayed alphabetically. If you have a particular date in mind, I can take it to a table for you to examine. Of course, if you want a wider search, you can use the microfiche on the screens there. I’ll come with you.’
