CHAPTER 16
I left it a fortnight before I next rode across to Bethesda, on the simple basis that not only would things be a little hectic there, but that the two of them---no, three of them now---might want or need some privacy. Family time.

I went over eventually, of course, with a present of a plush stuffed narwhal in deference to an old sequence of jokes in the climbing club back in That Place.

Enfys turned out to be a greedy little bundle, multiply wrapped, clamped to Penny’s chest, and I almost lost my parental urges until I watched the way her hands opened and closed on her mother’s breast, and the intimacy and need took my soul from me. I had to take a walk outside, the mountains a darker stain in the starry blackness of a rare clear Bethesda night. I found a wall to sit on as I struggled to bring my thoughts down to a reasonable level.

I couldn’t hate that driver, for I had met him, and I knew that he would carry Carolyn at least as long as I would. Who, in the end, could I blame?

“You alright, mate?”

Keith had settled onto the wall next to me as I had disappeared into the shitty morass of my life. He reached across and, to my surprise, took my hand.

“I don’t know if this is the right thing to say, just now… but I know. Caro spoke to Pen, before, yeah? Before… Fuck. Don’t get me weepy, mate. Caro… It was a big thing for her, being so…”

He stopped talking for a few minutes before pointing upwards.

“Clear skies here, Mike, when it isn’t raining. Stars. Planets. Being able to see other things we could never have done in That Place. Caro… Mike? She really loved you, but all that crap with her, not good enough for you, yeah? She needed approval, assurance that she wasn’t reading it wrong. Wishful thinking”

“But I told her, so many times…”

“I know, mate. I know. Two of you with the same blinkers on, both with the same fears. What she asked, told Pen, it was so typical of her. If it was anyone else, I’d be using words like ‘stupid’, but that wasn’t it. She wanted to know… Pen says Caro asked if she thought she could ever be a good mother. If Pen thought Caro could be, I mean. Just so unsure of herself”

He gave my hand another squeeze.

“Two of you the same, Mike, and what I saw, well, you’d both make amazing parents. Shit. Would have… sorry. Look, what do you think me and Pen know about it? Or Nansi and Vic? All parents have to find their way, even with all the books and that. What you can do now… What you need to do now is live the best life you can. Confirm what Caro thought of you”

He sat for a while in silence, then rose.

“Putting the kettle on, Mike. Cuppa?”

“Yeah, go on”

“What are you up to tomorrow? Got some stuff I really need to do at the bunkhouse, otherwise I’d come out with you”

“Well, Pen can’t, can she?”

He chuckled.

“Well, your arse will go to sleep if you sit there much longer. See you in a couple. I know how you take it”

He ambled off, and when I joined him in the house, the subject wasn’t mentioned again, although I am sure Penny had been brought up to speed by Keith. Men’s way of sharing, I suppose. I knew, and I suppose always had, that he cared, but gushing wasn’t the Manly Way. He knew, as did I, as did Pen. That was all that mattered.

I didn’t sleep that well, but the day dawned clear, so I packed my basics for a day in the Valley. I parked the bike in front of Dafydd and Dennis’ tea kiosk, leaving my lid and gloves with them and setting off for the walk up into Cwm Idwal. My mind was still restless, still running over things again and again, which was why I hadn’t been able to sleep. The more tired I got, the more the thoughts surged forward, in a nasty feedback loop that drove rationality away. I was at the gates by the lake before I knew it, and then, of course, at the foot of the Slabs. Bugger it: stick the climbing boots on, hang the approach shoes from my chalk bag’s belt, and solo some of the lower stuff. Run up Ordinary, slither up Charity, bounce up Hope, hop up the opening groove of Tennis Shoe to the top of that first little pinnacle before…

I was cruising up the easy slabby bit, working over to the final tower, perched boulder above me, sloping slippery foothold only letting me stay on when I found the little two-dinger pocket for my right hand to unload my feet just enough..

What the fuck was I doing?

I held the rush of shock and realisation and channelled it into as smooth a surge onto the summit as I could manage, the drop down Suicide Wall seizing my attention as I sprawled on the flat rock while the shakes took me. Idiot! The same place Kul, Dal and I had watched that Steve Jones climbing unroped, and he was an idiot, and I was…

As my heartrate slowed, I slithered down onto the safer ground behind the tower while I waited out the shakes.

I could so easily have died just then. Climbing is a game of risks, of course, but it is all about mitigating the dangers. Use ropes. Place runners. Do it with a partner. Drop the grade right down when soloing. Severe was well within my abilities, of course, but that move was exposed and bloody polished, and a long, long way up, and I was absolutely on my own. I scanned the Slabs to my left, noticing a couple of people clearly staring at me. I gave them a little wave of reassurance: no I’m not mad, just doing some easy stuff, nothing to worry about, and after a few more minutes of sitting on the little patch of grass I heard voices from behind the tower.

“Watch me, it’s fucking polished. Feet are going to go…”

Deep breath.

“Hi; I’m just behind the tower. Want a hint?”

“Fucking aye, whoever you are! Bit gripped here!”

“Okay. See a recess above your head?”

“Yes. All flared, though”

“Feel around to the right. Small pocket, two fingers”

“To the right… you fucking beauty! Got me, Hal?”

Another voice, from further down.

“Aye aye!”

“Going for it… fuck fuck fuck YES!”

A bright orange Joe Brown helmet appeared above the perched boulder, underneath it a panting man in his forties. He half-rolled onto the top of the lump, clutching tightly to the edge, before calling out “SAFE!”

He spotted me and grinned, nodding his thanks.

“Hang on while I set up a belay---shit, that’s a long way down. Be with you in a minute”

He put in something like five anchors, spending a long while arranging clove hitches and such before settling himself back on the boulder, calling to me over his shoulder, “I’m John, Hal’s my second. ON BELAY!”

“Aye aye!”

I raised a hand.

“Mike”

“Pleased to meet you, Mike. And relieved”

We both waited for the obligatory sequence to run its course: “Take in”, “That’s me”, “Climb when ready”, “Climbing”, before John started talking to me again.

“You done that one, then?”

“Few times”

“Traversed in from the finishing ledge?”

“Er, yeah”, I lied.

“That’s as polished as they say the Twin Cracks are, but if you fall off them, the book says you just land on a massive ledge. That bit, fuck. Straight into fresh air. Didn’t expect that on a Diff”

I had a sudden suspicion.

“What route are you doing?”

“Ordinary”

“That’s…”

“Yeah. Up the groove thing”

“It’s actually up a much deeper groove thing”

“There was a gully up the slab, but that’s just a stream”

“That’s just the route you wanted. That was Ordinary”

John paused as he brought his second across, prompting a complaint of “Take in!” from below us.

“Shitting hell. Sorry, but what route is this?”

“Tennis Shoe. Severe; that bit was 4b, though I think, with the polish, it’s more like 4c, and I would give the finish HS”

“Fuck! I’ve only ever led V Diff up to now”

The voice below was closer, and John murmured “Don’t tell Hal till he’s up, okay?”

I agreed, and then John talked an obviously terrified second through the moves over the crux, his manner so much more composed than he had been with me. I was impressed, and when Hal finally appeared, John sent him straight past the belay to join me on the grass. Hal proved to be another middle-aged gent, in my youthful opinion, with the remains of what looked like two black eyes, and for safety’s sake, I set up a belay for him from the gear he had collected on the way up, while John moved back himself to the safer ground, where he coiled the rope without untying, before disassembling his bomb-proof collection of anchors.

“Hal, this is Mike. He’s come in the easy way, and I am sure he knows the way off this place, he remarked knowingly”

I waved, feeling silly.

“Er, yes. It’s up, though. Easy scrambling now”

Hal looked to John.

“Will we need to pitch it, lo—John?”

Ah. I hadn’t met that many queers back then, but it wasn’t a problem for me. It was a little while before I learned better terms for them, though. John’s face twitched at his second’s slip, before he asked me what I thought. I shrugged.

“How much climbing have you done, the two of you?”

John smiled.

“Don’t know if you’d call it climbing. We use an indoor wall, but we live in Crowborough”

“Where’s that?”

“South of Tunbridge Wells. Got some climbing near us”

My mood broke, and I found myself laughing.

“I went there once! All soft sandstone”

Hal looked up at that.

“Where did you go?”

“Somewhere called Bowles, if I remember right”

“Ha! That’s just down the road from us. Where we do our climbing”

John barked out his own laugh.

“Compared to this it’s not real climbing. What grade’s this scramble then, mike?”

“Really easy. Well, I think so”

“Then here’s a suggestion, if you don’t mind. If you show me the way, I’ll just tow the rope up, and Hal can follow after the first rope’s length. See how comfortable he is, then we can decide if we need the rope or not”

“Fine by me!”

I led him up the first hundred and fifty feet of the scramble, chatting away as we went, and he did seem comfortable with the moves. We set up a belay as the rope ran out, and Hal fairly flew up, so the rest of the ascent was done unroped. When we came to the tricky and polished bad step down to the footpath, I went down first to talk him through the moves, and then we sat down together as all three of us changed footwear, which was one thing they had definitely both got right.

“Mike?”

“Yes, John?”

“Please tell Hal what you told me”

“Ah. Right. That route wasn’t actually Ordinary, mate. It’s called Tennis Shoe”

Hal was shaking his head.

“You never could read a map… John. What grade, Mike?”

“Um, overall is a Severe, but some people give the final pitch an HS”

“Oh dear… Tech grade? We only use tech grades in Sussex”

“Was 4b, but once again, with all the polish, some people give it 4c”

“I’ve… My hardest so far at Bowles was 3b. Oh my”

He took some deep breaths.

“Well, shall we get down? Tea won’t drink itself. You coming down as well, Mike?”

I nodded.

“Not got any tea with me; I was going to get some from the place by the car park. Not got a mug with me”

“Don’t worry about that; each of our flasks has two cups with it. Off we jolly well et cetera. Oh: any more tricky bits on the way down?”

“Nope. Just this sort of path”

“Fine!”

We shuffled down the gravel track, settling ourselves onto some of the boulders at the foot of the Slabs as John poured a welcome hot drink for each of us. I pointed out the glaringly obvious gully-line of the Ordinary Route. John was pensive.

“We thought that looked too easy by far. We did some stuff in the Peak District before. That was my hardest lead till now”

“Which route?”

“Flying Buttress, at Stanage”

“Lovely route. Explains how you managed those finishing moves today”

Hal laughed out loud.

“Now I know it’s no comparison, and today was a lot higher than at Stanage, but that move on Flying whatever felt just as high. Once I’d done it, I mean. Couldn’t really see anything but the rock and holds and stuff while I was doing it”

I took a sip of my tea, then waved at the rock.

“Focus. Keeps you safe. Now, what other routes do you fancy?”

John looked hard at me.

“We haven’t got another rope or harness, and from the size of your bag there, neither have you. What routes do you suggest?”

“Well, given that you’ve just done a Severe, there’s one you’ve already mentioned”

Hal smiled at that.

“The book really praises Hope. Where is it?”

I pointed to the starting slab and following groove.

“That’s it there. If you don’t mind, I’d climb it beneath John, unless you want to lead it”

Hal shook his head.

“Not my job! You’ll be okay without a rope?”

I nodded, and John grunted.

“You didn’t traverse in from the belay ledge, did you?”

I found my face warming, so ducked my head as I shook it. John sighed deeply, then began gearing up.

“Let’s do this thing, then!”

He proved to be a steady and plodding leader, but his runners were bomb-proof, and he managed the Twin Cracks at his first attempt, unlike me. He fairly cruised my favourite corner pitch, as did Hal, and once again there was the up-and-down of the descent, the two dispensing with the rope that time. The day was moving on, though, so we decided together that we would pack up, and a slow amble brought us back down to the car park. As Hal loaded their gear into the boot of their car ready for their departure to the Pen y Pass hostel, John had a quiet word with me.

“Please don’t take offence, Mike, but I know you heard Hal slip up. Yes: we are. Is that a problem for you?”

I shook my head.

“Your business, not mine”

“You noticed the bruises as well, I saw”

“Yes”

“That’s from some skinheads. Queerbashing. That is why we are out here doing the fresh air shit, trying to get him happier and me less angry”

I nodded.

“Makes sense to me”

“Yeah… I sort of suspect it’s the same with you. Not being, you know, but…”

He looked around for eavesdroppers once again.

“Whatever’s hurt you, please don’t let it kill you”