Owen Sheers - Resistance

“I still don’t understand why you’d want t’go now,” Sarah said, turning the poster round to look at it again. She wished she’d never brought it back from the priory, wished she’d never gone down there at all. It had certainly been a mistake to show it to Maggie.

“Don’t you, bach?” Maggie gave Sarah a long look. Again she saw how she’d fallen so much earlier than the younger woman. She stood up and moved over to the dresser. Standing on the tips of her toes, she picked out a long card from behind the plates on the top shelf.

“You know what Will could be like,” she said, her back to Sarah as she looked over the card. “Never so pleased with himself as when he’d run a good yearling.” She shook her head. “Daft bugger.” Then she turned back to Sarah. “He’d have wanted to run this colt at Llanthony, I know he would. So that’s why. Because we should be carrying on as usual where we can, doing what we’d be doing as if this never happened.” She paused, looked out the window, then back down at the card in her hand. “Because it’s what Will would have wanted. That’s why, bach.”

Through all of Maggie and William’s years together the yearling cobs had been the only part of their daily lives they’d really shared. The other chores and tasks on the farm had remained the territory of one or the other of them since their first day of marriage. Making the bread, butter, cream, keeping the chickens, feeding the pig and the fire: these were Maggie’s responsibilities. Milking the cows, looking after the flock, the vegetables, and the farm: these were William’s. Breeding cobs from a succession of working mares had been their only mutual interest and the only activity to which they’d devoted time that wasn’t directly related to keeping the farm going. Once they’d had some good results with a yearling in the local shows, the young horses would be sold on at a tidy profit, often much to William’s delight and Maggie’s regret.

This latest colt, Glyndwr Llwyd, was never meant to be. They’d agreed they were getting too old for breeding, that they’d had a good run at it and now, what with the turn in the war, it was best to rest on their laurels. But then one day William came home from market with the stud card Maggie held in her hand now. As she sat back down at the table, she glanced at the door, remembering how he’d stood there that afternoon, one hand on the door frame, the other pulling the card from his waistcoat pocket.

“He’ll only be here a couple of days,” was all he’d said as he’d placed the card on the table as carefully as if it was made of bone china and might break at any minute.

Maggie was baking bread. She’d dusted off her hands on her apron, sat down where she was sitting now, and turned the card round to face her.

Season 1943

THE FAMOUS WELSH COB STALLION

CARDI LLWYD, 1665

Holder of Premium for Brecon and Radnor.

Fee, £3. Tenant Farmers, £1 10s. Groom, 5s .

Breeders: PARRY BROS., Llwynfynwent,

Llangwyryfon, Cards.

CARDI LLWYD is a beautiful Dark Dapple Dun Colour Cob, 12 years old, 15 hands high. He is one of the grand old Welsh type, now almost extinct; short to the ground; proper height and any amount of bone and substance; with such a look out; perfect temper, manners, and any amount of courage; and one of the finest goers in the country.

People who may not have the Stud Book at their command will be interested to know that investigation of this Pedigree reveals the possession of four strains of CYMRO LLWYD, probably the best of the many good horses that have contributed to the maintenance and improvement of the Welsh Cob.

Sire — Ceitho Welsh Flyer, 1080, W.S.B.

g. Sire — Caribaldi Comet II, 711, W.S.B.

g. g. Sire — Caribaldi Comet.

Dam — Gwyryfon Nancy, 8935, W.S.B., by Welsh Model, 620.

g. Dam — Gwyryfon Betty, 7141, by Trecefel King, by Grand Express.

g. g. Dam — Polly, by Satisfaction, by Welsh Jack.

g. g.g. Dam — Eiddwen Bess, by Eiddwen Express, by Express (Cotrell).

g. g.g.g. Dam — Fly, by Welsh Jack, by Cymro Llwyd.

Concerning the remarkable Pedigree behind CARDI LLWYD, one could write much, but for the time being I must confine myself to the general comment that it would be difficult to find a better combination of type, speed, and action, handed down by individuals of outstanding merit.

All Mares are absolutely at owner’s risk but the utmost care will be taken .

All Mares tried by this Horse will be Charged for .

“I thought we’d said no more, Will?” Maggie had said, still reading the card and trying to put an edge to her voice.

“Well, yes,” he’d replied, coming round behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “We did, didn’t we? But Cardi Llwyd? It’s not every day you get quality like that in the area.”

“You’ve been drinking.” He only ever squeezed her shoulders like that when he had.

“Just a couple with Watkins.” He moved round to sit beside her. “It was him as showed me the card. The stallion’s standing at his place, see?”

“I bet he is,” was all Maggie said under her breath.

“So, what d’you think? She’s in season, isn’t she?”

“Three pound,” Maggie said, looking up at him. “That’s a lot, Will.”

And that was when he’d let his mouth grow into a slow smile, deepening the crow’s feet at his eyes. As soon as Maggie had looked up, he’d known. Just a year later Glyndwr Llwyd, a fine-looking bay dappled colt, unsteady on his big-kneed legs, was suckling from the mare, and William was gone.

“He won’t let it,” Sarah said, sitting back from looking over the poster again. “He won’t let him go.” She didn’t have to say Albrecht’s name for Maggie to know whom she was talking about. “You saw how he was about Bethan.”

Maggie kept looking out the window as if trying to make out a vague figure in the distance. Eventually she went over to the Rayburn and poured some more hot water over the elderflower in the bottom of her mug. “Oh, he will,” she said as she sipped at the hot drink, both her hands around it. “He’ll have to.”

Maggie takes her yearling to the show tomorrow. She’s set on it. I was going to go with her but now she says it will be better if I stay. I’m not so sure but she’s set on that too now. You know what she can be like. She says it’s time. That we need to see how everything is going outside the valley .

She’s right, Tom. We can’t go on like this for long. The lambs will have to go to market soon, if there is a market. Her cows need serving if we’re to have any milk. We have hardly any coal if it turns cold again. And then there is the dipping and shearing and hay coming up. It will be too much .

I think it has been too much for Mary already. And maybe Menna. Mary’s reading the Bible all the time, to Menna and her two little ones when not to herself. Edith is fine. Maggie says it’s like they’re crossing over those two, Mary and Edith .

I am still scared though, Tom. About Maggie going to the show tomorrow. Only thing makes me feel better is she might come back with news of you. I hope she does. It has been too long, Tom, and it’s all over now anyway .

I put the first lambs on the hill this morning. The gorse out the back is in full flower. Every time I go round there I smell it. Like coconut .

Stay safe, Tom. I hope soon I’ll be able to read these to you when we are together, instead of writing them when we are apart .