‘Like I said, happy to help.’ He watches her replace her hat and glasses. ‘Let me know if you fancy going out on the lake any time,’ he tells her. ‘I’ve got a boat.’

Now it is her turn to smile.

‘The one with the dodgy motor?’

‘It’s got oars too.’

She shakes her head. ‘I prefer dry land, remember?’

Before he can keep her talking further, she waves good-bye to the others, whistles to Thistle and slips out of the pub. Tiredness aside, she feels more human and more normal than she has in weeks. At the village shop she buys as much food as she can carry in her backpack, including some proper dog food, but not forgetting plenty of soup and chocolate. She pauses at the post office counter, selects a picture postcard, and pens a few cheerful lines to her parents. As she puts it in the letter box she sends a silent wish with it that her parents will be convinced she is all right and that she will be able to talk them out of a visit. Much as she would enjoy seeing her father, there is so much that needs her attention right now, there are so many things she knows she has to face up to and deal with, she really does not want to have to manage their worry about her on top of it.

The winter sun is weakening fast as it dips toward the jagged horizon of the Brecon Beacons. Tilda and Thistle make their slow and steady way back up the hill to Ty Gwyn.

Chapter 9

9

SEREN