The Testimony of Taliesin Jones (49 page)

Other
travellers stand on the platform
,
pinched
and pal
e.
There's some of that keen December
sun that alway
s
comes just before Christmas
and although it gives off little heat th
e
people
l
ean
in towards it
as if it s the only
s
un
.
they’ve
see
n
in years
.
Taliesin pushes his hands de
ep
into his coat pocket
s
,
turning over the sweet wrappers and coins that
lie th
ere.
On the way to the station his
father insisted on buyin
g
him toffees for
the journey. His departure for We
st
Haven
brought out the competitive streak in his father
;
a
n
eed
to
counter the undoubted shower of affection th
at
Taliesin'
s
mother will pour on him when he arrives. Tali
esin
is beginning to recognize the pattern.

His father gave him some messages to pass on. 'Say hello
to your mother for me, won't you? And ask her what
s
he wants to do about
the furniture. Tell her I don't mind what she wants to do with it
.'
His final words
were 'I'll give you your present when you get back
.'
With this his
father ensures his son
's
return.

The
grey-brown countryside passes by. Taliesin watches the fi
elds,
the houses, the lack of people, the leafless
trees. He
begins to think about the distance
between West Haven and Cwmglum. Forty, fifty miles maybe, a finger's width on
the large
st s
cale
map in his atlas. Travelling towards his mother takes him ne
arer
to the truth that
she is a long way from his life.

Other
people's farms pass by; then a castle half-ruined, car
avans
and an aqueduct. Eventually the dackadacka of the tram lulls him into a
short-journey-nap
,
where he drifts at
sleep's edge and flirts with dreams. His drifting thoughts
b
ecome
dr
ifting
d
reams.
H
e
r
ehearses
a conver
sation
wit
h
hi
s
m
other a
bout furni
ture
.
In h
is
h
alf-dream
sh
e
i
s ac
quiesc
en
t
ag
reeing n
ot to a
rgue
o
ver m
ere
thing
s
.
This th
ought
m
er
g
es i
nto
o
ther,
o
lder
s
nippets
of
hi
s s
hort pa
st a
nd
a
di
stant se
nsation
o
f m
oving a
nd
no
t bein
g a
nywhere in p
articular.
Fin
ally
h
e
i
s
l
ooking
f
or
Bill
y,
a
sking
pe
ople
h
e's
n
ever me
t b
efore
if th
ey
kn
ow o
f hi
s
wh
ere abouts.
No on
e
kn
ows wh
o h
e
i
s o
r
w
here h
e i
s.
Preac
her Preece says
'
I don't kn
ow
t
his
m
an.’

Wh
en
h
e wa
kes h
e sees se
a,
s
preading out
a
nd
a
way to t
ouch o
ther
l
ands. T
he
sky
i
s
i
ce-blue
and
bl
ack
cl
ouds a
re
s
paced
eve
nly
ac
ross
i
t,
pl
aced w
ith delib
erate
p
recision
.
R
a
ys
bur
st
th
rough o
ne
of t
he
clo
uds
that
's
tr
ying
t
o o
bscure
th
e
s
un. N
ow
h
e k
nows
t
hat
Go
d i
sn't
limited
t
o
th
e
m
ajestic;
th
at
h
e
'
s a
lso
pre
pared
to a
ppear in the ti
ght
a
nd
co
nfined
i
ndoors.
T
his
t
hought
co
mforts him. It help
s
him t
o
know th
at Go
d
co
uld b
e in
th
is ca
rriag
e
as well a
s
in
th
e
li
ght
th
at s
parkles
on
to
t
he
sea.
G
od
i
s
moving
with h
im
fr
om
hi
s fa
ther's
to
h
is
m
other's, j
ust
as
th
e
moon
foll
ows a
p
erson
w
herever th
ey go.

As
the train comes into West Haven Station, Taliesin leans out of the window and
sees his mother standing next to an e
mpty p
ostcard
rac
k th
at
spins
i
n th
e
wind
.
Sh
e is
w
earin
g
a
si
lk
sca
rf th
at p
rotects h
er
h
air f
rom lo
sing
it
s s
hape
.
He is
a
lert t
o c
hanges in
a
nything
s
he might be we
aring
.
Sin
ce
s
he
l
eft
h
e
h
as see
n h
er
tw
ice:
once during the
s
ummer f
or
a
wee
kend in W
est
H
aven a
nd
a
nother time on neutr
al g
round f
or
lun
ch w
ith
To
ni. On both
oc
casions he w
as
t
aken w
ith th
e c
hange in h
er. S
he
was
m
ore
attractive th
an e
ver, lik
e
a fl
attering
p
ortrait o
f h
erself
.

Absence
has made the heart grow harder but the fondness returns in the instant of
meeting her. And so it does again as he buri
es
hi
s
no
se
in h
er
n
eck
and
breathes h
er
in
,
f
orgetting
h
er eve
ry
evi
l
a
nd cl
inging
to h
er
without re
straint.
Any pr
e-planned
id
eas
h
e
mi
ght
h
ave
had about not ki
ssing
h
er
as a
s
ign
o
f di
sapproval
ar
e s
mothered in th
e
hu
g
.
In that m
om
ent h
e c
ould forgive her
a
nything.

'Y
ou
l
ook
p
ale,'
she sa
ys,
h
er eyes
blink
ing fas
t
.
S
he
i
nches hi
s c
heek.
'And
a
bit thin
.'
H
e
i
s ex
pecting
th
is routine
.
At
hi
s
com
ing
and
g
oings hi
s
p
arents a
re pr
one
t
o say
th
ings
th
ey
don't m
ean.
H
e c
ould b
e
f
at as a ca
t
a
nd
s
h
e'
d
s
till
s
ay h
e
lo
oked
thin
.
His fath
er w
ill
say t
he
sa
me
th
ing
wh
en
h
e
r
eturns.
It's
their w
ay of ge
tting at
e
ach
o
ther,
a
vi
carious c
riticizing
with him
as
th
e
m
eans of com
municating it
.
Thi
s
w
ay
th
ey c
ontinue their
s
ilent
wa
r.

Sh
e
t
alks a
l
ot
in the
ca
r. Sh
e is
n
ervous,
l
eaning s
lightly f
orward
in th
e
dri
ving
seat
,
pr
attling o
n.

'
Toni
is
l
ooking
f
or ward
to
seei
ng
yo
u, D
arling
,
h
e's ve
ry f
ond o
f
yo
u. It
's
a pit
y
J
onathan co
uldn't
co
me
.
W
e've go
t y
ou a
l
ovely C
hristmas pre
sent
.
H
ow's sc
hool?'

'Fin
e.'
H
e
looks at the harbour
a
nd
a
t th
e
p
astel-coloured
h
ouses
linin
g
it like the top
s
helf in
a s
weet
s
hop.
T
he
sea is c
hoppy
a
nd fle
cked
with whit
e
h
orses.
Th
e
tid
e
i
s
in
a
nd
co
vering m
ost
of the sand wh
ich
i
s
vir
gin,
t
ouched o
nly b
y
b
irds
th
at Ta
liesin
ca
n't identif
y.
H
e'd
lik
e
t
o ge
t
o
n
t
he b
each a
nd f
eel
hi
s
f
eet s
inking
s
lightly in th
e we
tter
sa
nd n
ear
th
e
w
ater's e
dge,
a
nd then lie b
ack o
n th
e so
fter
sa
nd th
at's
h
ad
tim
e
t
o
dr
y
in the sun
.
If th
e w
ind dr
ops
th
ere
m
ight
b
e a
r
ecord-breaking
Christma
s
D
ay
t
emperature, a w
hite-hot
C
hristmas
.
In the hotel
w
indows
vaca
n
cy
sig
ns
si
t l
onely i
n
fro
nt
o
f
f
rilly n
et
curtains remindin
g
him th
at
h
e is a visi
tor
o
ut
o
f
seaso
n
.