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Chapter 20
Ron had always loved being outdoors at night. Not in a city or town centre, but in the countryside or at the coast, where there were few lights and fewer people, and he could pretend he was alone in the world.
Ha! Who was he kidding?
Hewasalone, regardless of his actual whereabouts. Since his mum had passed away, his dog had died, and his marriage had fallen apart, he had been on his own and he hadn’t anticipated any change in the situation, until he’d met Annabelle, and for a while he’d allowed himself to believe that he mightn’t have to be alone after all.
His feet pounded the path, and he sighed as he rounded a small headland into the next bay. He’d been stupid to believe he could have a future with someone like Annabelle. He had even less to offer her than her toe-rag of an ex-husband. Actually, hewasable to offer her something that Troy couldn’t –love. But love didn’t put a roof over her head or food on the table, and love didn’t make up for the kids not seeing their father from one year to the next. He couldn’t blame her for returning to Australia. It was probably for the best: for Jake’s sake, if nothing else.
Ron walked down the slipway and onto the beach, toed off his well-worn hiking boots, and stuffed his socks inside. Tying the laces together, he slung the boots around his neck and set off across the sand.
He might as well make the most of these last few hours on the coast. Pretty soon he’d swing inland and head north, perhaps with a detour to the Brecon Beacons on the way. He’d climb to the top of the highest peak, lie on his back, lose himself amongst the stars, and remember Annabelle.
Above the high tide mark, the sand was warm and dry, and his toes sank into it with every step. The bay stretched ahead of him, the sea glittering darkly, the lights of the small town of Ogmore twinkling in the distance. A small river lay between him and it, which he would have to circumnavigate if he wanted to carry on along the coastal path to Cardiff.
This particular stretch of the coast, like Kenfig beach, was also backed by extensive sand dunes, and he planned on cutting through them and exploring the nature reserve as he followed the river upstream searching for a place to cross.
It was already starting to get light. In high summer the nights were short, and to the east the sky was a flat silver with a hint of coral sunrise where the land met the sky. Ron guessed it was going to be another glorious day. It was just a shame he was raining inside.
In the pre-dawn, the birds were singing. It wasn’t the full rich chorus of spring but Ron appreciated it, nevertheless. The sounds of the waves, the wind sighing through the grass and the gentle burble of the river accompanied the bird song, and Ron took a moment to savour the tranquillity of the scene. He couldn’t see another soul, and it was incredibly peaceful. It was just unfortunate that Ron didn’t feel as peaceful inside. He’d not felt this bad since he walked out of his marriage. He actually felt worse, in fact, because the only thing he had felt when he’d left Louise had been a deep sense of guilt and regret. Guilt and regret hounded him this time too, but alongside it was heartbreak.
He’d recover from it eventually, but he knew it would be an uphill struggle, and the pain would never totally go away. After all, he still felt the loss of his mum and his dog. That kind of pain never left, it just dimmed a little with time, became less acute, tempered by the distance of the years. Annabelle was now etched in his heart, and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He liked having her there, despite the pain. He was glad he’d met her and glad he’d fallen in love with her, because if he hadn’t known her, his life would have been all the poorer for it.
Sighing deeply, he carried on walking until he gradually moved up off the beach and onto the sandy trail. When he came to a fork he hesitated. Should he carry on until he reached the river itself and hope to cross there, or should he follow this trail? He had a vague idea where it led, up towards a small village where he hoped might be a cafe or shop where he could purchase some coffee, and maybe a doughnut or a Danish pastry. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he knew from experience that long walks meant burning up quite a lot of calories which would need replacing.
The trail through the dunes was wide and obviously well used. It led steadily upwards from the beach for a while, then all at once the gradient became considerably steeper, and Ron stopped for a moment to gaze upwards at an impressive wall of sand rising in front of him. Blimey, that was a dune and a half, he thought, and he debated whether or not to climb it.
What the heck! He had nothing to lose, and he guessed the view from the top could well be spectacular. He had plenty of water with him so he wouldn’t get dehydrated, although he did discover that he’d lost some fitness since living with Beverley, as he puffed and panted his way to the top. Walking on sand wasn’t easy, especially when that sand was at a fairly acute angle. Every time he took a step his foot slid backwards slightly, making him think of that old saying, one step forward, two steps back. It wasn’t quite that bad, but it took him longer than he anticipated to reach the top, and as soon as he got there he flung himself down and sat facing out to sea, his chest heaving. He wryly acknowledged that it was going to take him some time to return to his pre-Beverley toughness, acquired from pounding the streets, restlessly moving from one place to the next, sleeping out in all weathers. He’d become soft, and he was going to find it hard at first.
With renewed determination he vowed to buy himself a decent sleeping bag, because he guessed he’d feel the cold for a while, even though the nights were still relatively warm. It wouldn’t take long before the season turned and autumn would be upon him, then winter. And sleeping rough in winter could be a brutal affair.
The sun had risen fully now, and it warmed his back after he shrugged off his Bergen and took a long drink of water. With his breathing returning to normal and his heart rate slowing down, Ron took in the view. As he suspected, it was indeed spectacular, he thought, as he gazed out over the sea towards the Devon coast, those distant hills clearer than he’d seen them since the holiday began. In no hurry, he sat there for a while drinking it in, trying to keep his thoughts away from Rest Bay and the people he’d left behind.
It was impossible, of course. His mind kept returning to Annabelle, and he wondered if she was awake. Then he wondered whether Beverley had found the note he’d left for her yet, and his gut twisted as he imagined her reaction.
Unable to sit still any longer with such thoughts churning through his brain, Ron scrambled to his feet and hoisted the Bergen. Turning his back on the sea, he jogged down the other side of the dune, heading for a wooded area. Once under the canopy, he stopped to get his bearings and catch his breath again.
Between the trunks he could see a small clearing and he walked towards it, curious about the old crumbling stone walls he could see amongst the undergrowth. A weathered sign read Candleston Castle, although there wasn’t much of the actual castle left. Still, he enjoyed poking around the tumbledown walls which alluded to a grander past. Sam and Jake would love it here, he thought, before he could stop himself.
Shaking his head ruefully, he knew he’d have to accept that it would take a while, possibly a good long while, before he stopped tripping over thoughts of Annabelle and her children and of Beverley and Pepe. His heart constricted once again as he thought of the dog. The poor little chap would be so confused. Unlike the humans, the dog wouldn’t understand that Ron had left. One minute Ron had been there, the next he was nowhere, and Pepe would have no idea what had happened to him.
When he spotted a road, he decided to follow it, hoping it might take him to the village and coffee. The lane was narrow, just room enough for one car with a few passing places along the way, but he didn’t encounter any traffic, although he did hear a tractor in the distance. He passed a dog walker who nodded to him, but he didn’t see anyone else, and for that he was grateful. Part of the reason for following the coastal path from Rest Bay to Cardiff was to try to avoid people as much as possible, and it looked like he was succeeding. There was the occasional house or farm along the lane, and the most gorgeous old church, but the village didn’t seem to be a particularly big place. It was very picturesque though, with lush meadows on either side of the road, and lots of old big trees. However, there wasn’t a cafe in sight, and neither did there appear to be a shop.
Coming to a fork in the road, he hesitated, wondering which way to go.
Almost directly in front of him was a gorgeous little house with a thatched roof, which was painted a cheerful yellow. It had an extensive lawn to the front and when he noticed a woman with a watering can in her hand, he decided to ask.
‘Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but is there anywhere I could get a coffee?’
The woman stopped watering the flowerbeds, and turned to look at him. ‘Not here,’ she said. ‘Your best bet is to go to Porthcawl.’
‘I’ve actually just come from there,’ he replied. ‘I’m heading east towards Cardiff.’
‘In that case, you’ll need to go to Ogmore. If you go down that road—’ she pointed ‘— and follow the path across the field, it will lead you to the river, where you’ll find stepping stones from one side to the other. Beyond that is Ogmore Castle, and a bit further on is Ogmore itself. There are a couple of cafes and shops, so you should be able to get a coffee.’
Ron thanked her and followed her directions. Pepe would have had a whale of a time in the field, he thought as he traversed the lush meadow. The dog probably would have had to be carried across the stepping stones though, because the water was too fast-flowing and deep for a small poodle, and Ron wouldn’t have wanted him to fall in.
Ron negotiated them with ease, and very soon he was on the other side of the river and gazing up in awe at Ogmore Castle. Now this reallywasa castle. Sam and Jake would have—
Argh!Crossly, he pushed thoughts of the boys out of his mind. If he was to find any peace at all, he had to stop thinking about those he’d left behind.
But even as he told himself that, he knew that for him, peace would be a long time coming.
