1966. -Aberfan. Part two.

More uni work. Aftermath of the Aberfan disaster.

Beth’s laughing upstairs. Laughing hysterically like she’s gonna split her sides if she don’t stop. She better had, the baby’s asleep upstairs and if she wakes him up I’ll never get him back down. I’m peeling spuds and I’ve got beef in the oven. We haven’t had Yorkshire puds in a while, maybe I’ll make some as a treat for Joe when he gets home. Won’t be long now, give it 5 minutes. A smile stretches across my face as I glance at the clock again. Beth’s lets out a huge cackle that sends the peeler flying out of my hands and clattering to the floor amongst a huge pile of peel that went with it. I stomp up the stairs, pinny flying around me, hands covered in potato water that’s dripping all over the carpet. “Beth!” I scold. “Beth! Your brother is asleep and if you don’t stop that racket right you won’t be getting any supper tonight! Do you hear me, Madam?” She’s not replying. Probably can’t hear me over her bloody laughing. “I mean it!” I shout, sharply pushing open her bedroom door. The laughing stops.

Fairy dust. That’s what Beth called it. When the dust motes were disturbed and the light made them look like glitter. I can see she was right about that now. They swirl and twist in the air in front of me, playful. So playful I can almost hear the laughter again. The light catches them as they move, taking my gaze with them to all the corners of the little room. Beth’s room. The room where Beth isn’t. Never will be again.

I turn quickly, slamming the door behind me and leaning up against it. My head is too light. Dizzy. Every single breath is catching in my throat and it’s too cold. Cold like that day. Running. Running towards the school.

“Mam.” I look down through my blurry eyes and see James looking back. His mouth is hanging open and his face is wet from crying. He must have heard me shouting her name. I can see that I’ve upset him again but through the welling pain in my eyes his face is distorted. He looks wrong, like he’s in pain. Like that day. I barely make it to the bathroom before I’m violently sick.

I hear him come in but I don’t turn around. I’m on my side of our double bed but I’ve turned to face the window because I don’t want him to see my face. He can tell when I’m having what he calls one of my “off days” just by looking at my face. Maybe he’ll think I’m asleep. He went back to day shifts after that day because he wanted to see the kid- the boys, before school. I can feel his eyes on my back for a few moments, waiting for me to turn around and acknowledge him. When I don’t I hear him sigh and take his clothes off. I hear a rattle, the bottle of sleeping pills the doctor prescribed. Most of the people in Aberfan are taking them now. He won’t take them tonight though. Not with that pitter patter on the window. My bottle lies untouched tonight in the bathroom cabinet. I hear the bottle settle back onto the bedside table without being opened. Neither of us agreed to the arrangement, neither of us mentioned it. The unspoken agreement that neither of us takes them pills when it’s raining. Just in case. I hear his knees clicking as he bends to kiss the baby goodnight in his cot. Very gently, so as not to wake him.

“You have an off day, Love?” Before I can finish counting to ten in my head he’s under the quilt and his arms are around me, his stubble grazing up against my cheek. His voice is grit and coal as he murmurs gently behind me. I can smell soap on his skin where he’s washed the coal dust off. It’s comforting and as I start to relax I feel the tears pooling again. I don’t reply. He didn’t need to ask, James told him. He doesn’t know that I was sat on the top stair when he told James that he’d have to look after me now when Joe is in work. Keep an eye on your mother was the message. James will have caught him at the top of the stairs. Easy now that James sleeps with his door open and screams if you shut it. Now that Joe goes in and wakes him up before he comes to bed, just so he can make sure he’s seen him at least once a day. Joe hadn’t spoken to Beth or James in two days before that day. Being asleep when they were at home and in the mines when they were asleep. Never got to kiss her good night the night before like I did.