The Summer of '93

Care giving time

It was pleasant having some time off with Ali. After breakfast I got packed and drove Ali's Mum into Hamilton. Ali bought a red Hamilton Acki's football top which cost an exorbitant £31. I joked, "you have more money than sense!"

Ali retorted, "you've been spending too much time with my Father. That's the sort of comment he would throw at me!"

"That Father of yours talks a lot of sense at times!" I threw back. He laughed.

I bought my Dad some Edinburgh rock as we both loved it so much. I think it was the melt in the mouth texture that was so appealing and the strong sherbet flavours that burst when I popped one in my mouth.

I found a really beautiful card shop and found a worthy condolence card, which I posted to Pandora. She had just lost her Father. I couldn't imagine what she was having to cope with. 'thinking of you while I'm in Edinburgh. I am so sorry to hear such tragic news. Sending you much love and hugs' I wrote. I waved the card on its way.

It was time to return to Leeds. Having filled the car with petrol I picked up biscuits for Mum and Dad who both loved shortbread. It was great to have company for such a long journey, for a change. This journey cultivated a real heart to heart set of conversations. It was just us and the road ahead. Ali confided, "most of the squaddies have wives and got married very young. It's a very lonely life being a squaddie."

"I imagine it must be too for their wives, being left behind all the time." I pondered.

"Well they have homes at the barracks." He thought out loud. "It sets them up with furniture which is a start and takes the load off financially."

"Yes but imagine not working or being with young kids, posted away from family."

"Yes." He confirmed, "the divorce rate is high." He fell into his own thoughts.

We stopped at Addingham, at one of my old favourite pubs, 'The Sailor.'  I drove directly to Dad's.  I had rung Dad earlier to say we were on our way. Ali was very uneasy about it and understandably so. I observed Ali sit in a chair and to help him feel better, I sat with him. I could feel that he didn't want to be alone. I could see when we left Ali was uneasy. 

Tuesday morning I dropped Ali in Caernarfon and he me to carry all the equipment into the training room. It felt like a mountain of kit and of course it was heavy. We broke for lunch and I met up with Ali in town. I navigated the narrow streets to find him. Life was at a different pace here, and my ears filled with Welsh as I passed by locals, engaging in conversation with the odd punctuation of a word that stood out in recognition : 'Telephon.' Ali had been clothes shopping; a new coat and jeans. The photos we'd taken had come to a reel end so he had taken them for processing. Over lunch we giggled over the photographs and reminisced. 

"I should be finished at four thirty." I smiled.

"Oky, peroky!" He smiled back. I was late meeting him as I wondered towards him, where he had been mooching around at the castle, which was so well preserved and its stone was so new and sharp in construction, I felt alive.  I could taste the seaspray as it tickled against my face in the wind and the fragrance of the sea teased my nose. Life felt good again. Ali and had bought me a beautiful Celtic pewter hairslide. I gasped at it. It was a beautiful symbol of love. I tidied my curls like prisoners into its jaws, twirled and Ali confirmed it looked good. Ali picked up a sausage supper, we drove back to the B&B. We had yogurt for afters...

Tomorrow sadly would be goodbye and he would have to be in London. The plan was for him to be there for 10am and so catch the 6pm train from Bangor. Ali had decided he was going to get a flight had had a civilised time.

We got up and he didn't make the flight. I rang into work to tell them I felt very unwell and I had to ring in sick. We left the hotel at 10:30. It was a day for me to journey back anyway. Given the extra hours I had notched up Ali reminded me, I shouldn't feel too guilty for 'dogging it's as he described it.