his eyes and looked. The ‘little darling’ was a strapping wench of no more than thirteen or so, standing on the cobbles with a small sister hanging onto her hand and a basket on one plump hip. She saw Dai looking at her and smiled.
‘You’d better ask her if she’s got an older sister,’ Dai muttered as Greasy began to heave on the timber. ‘I’m not cradle-snatching, boyo, not for you or anyone else!’
‘She’s older ’n she looks,’ Greasy said confidently. ‘See the kid wi’ ’er? That’ll be ’er sprog.’
Dai grinned. ‘Stupid you are, mun. Them’s little girls both; but never mind, we’ll find ourselves something nice for a night in port – where’s the pub?’
‘It’s in the Post Office and General Store,’ another man said, overhearing. ‘Haven’t you been to Ireland before, Taffy? Oh ah, a bit be’ind the times is Ireland.’
Dai shrugged and came staggering out onto the cobbles with his load. ‘Anglesey’s the same, so I should feel at home. Come on, Greasy, move yourself, we want to get off before dark, don’t we?’
They found two girls, gentle, lovely girls who laughed with them, walked with them and refused to do anything more with them, greatly to Greasy’s disgust. ‘But we’re just poor sailors, starved of love,’ he pointed out pathetically. ‘We’ve been at sea months … we’re only askin’ for some kissin’ an’ cuddlin’, dat’s all we want. Well, all we reckon we’ll get,’ he added conscientiously.
‘You’re two lovely fellers,’ Rose said, smiling at him. ‘But isn’t this a small community, now? And how would we face people if they t’ought we were easy? No, no, to walk and talk is fine fun, but to go wit’ the pair of you to the woods would be dangerous.’
‘Woods? Who said woods? But a stroll in the sand’ills now …’
‘Sandhills are worse; sure an’ sand is soft as sin,’ the other girl, Iris, said. She was walking beside Dai, smiling teasingly up at him with her soft pink mouth curved delightfully and her head tilted. ‘What ’ud the Father say if he t’ought we were that sort of gorl?’
‘Oh, well,’ Dai said, smiling back. ‘We’ll never know, will we? And now how about a drink before we go back to the Jenny ?’
They slept on board, of course, and next morning Dai rolled out of his bunk early, before they were due to take on their new cargo, and went out into the misty pearl of dawn. He walked until he found a pebbly beach and then took off his shoes and socks and waded into the slow-moving sea, bending down now and again to pick out a smooth pebble and skim it over the little waves as they hissed gently inshore.
He was so homesick! Moelfre was like this in the early dawn, when the fishing boats were putting to sea. You looked inland and saw the cows up to their bellies in the milk of the mist, you looked at the rocks out to sea and saw them monstrous, rearing out of the sea half seen, half invisible, seeming to undulate slowly as the mist began to dissipate.
And the smells here were not so different either. Seaweed, sand, the smell of wet rocks, the softer scents of grass and leaf which came to you in wafts as you left the sea and began to climb up the beach.
He found a little lane wandering between the lush meadows and followed it a short way. He leaned on a mossy gate and considered the cows beyond, a long stem of grass sweet between his teeth. Higher up the lane trees leaned, forming a green tunnel. There would be wild raspberries in the woods, he had already sampled some of the sweet, sharp little wild strawberries from the banks of the lane.
He turned to retrace his steps. They would eat, then begin to load the cargo. Best get back before he was missed.
Get back! If only he could go back home, but there had been a fierce and terrible row between him and his father before he left and there had been deep bad feeling on both sides.
‘The girl is a good girl,’ Davy had shouted at him. ‘No word
‘You’d better ask her if she’s got an older sister,’ Dai muttered as Greasy began to heave on the timber. ‘I’m not cradle-snatching, boyo, not for you or anyone else!’
‘She’s older ’n she looks,’ Greasy said confidently. ‘See the kid wi’ ’er? That’ll be ’er sprog.’
Dai grinned. ‘Stupid you are, mun. Them’s little girls both; but never mind, we’ll find ourselves something nice for a night in port – where’s the pub?’
‘It’s in the Post Office and General Store,’ another man said, overhearing. ‘Haven’t you been to Ireland before, Taffy? Oh ah, a bit be’ind the times is Ireland.’
Dai shrugged and came staggering out onto the cobbles with his load. ‘Anglesey’s the same, so I should feel at home. Come on, Greasy, move yourself, we want to get off before dark, don’t we?’
They found two girls, gentle, lovely girls who laughed with them, walked with them and refused to do anything more with them, greatly to Greasy’s disgust. ‘But we’re just poor sailors, starved of love,’ he pointed out pathetically. ‘We’ve been at sea months … we’re only askin’ for some kissin’ an’ cuddlin’, dat’s all we want. Well, all we reckon we’ll get,’ he added conscientiously.
‘You’re two lovely fellers,’ Rose said, smiling at him. ‘But isn’t this a small community, now? And how would we face people if they t’ought we were easy? No, no, to walk and talk is fine fun, but to go wit’ the pair of you to the woods would be dangerous.’
‘Woods? Who said woods? But a stroll in the sand’ills now …’
‘Sandhills are worse; sure an’ sand is soft as sin,’ the other girl, Iris, said. She was walking beside Dai, smiling teasingly up at him with her soft pink mouth curved delightfully and her head tilted. ‘What ’ud the Father say if he t’ought we were that sort of gorl?’
‘Oh, well,’ Dai said, smiling back. ‘We’ll never know, will we? And now how about a drink before we go back to the Jenny ?’
They slept on board, of course, and next morning Dai rolled out of his bunk early, before they were due to take on their new cargo, and went out into the misty pearl of dawn. He walked until he found a pebbly beach and then took off his shoes and socks and waded into the slow-moving sea, bending down now and again to pick out a smooth pebble and skim it over the little waves as they hissed gently inshore.
He was so homesick! Moelfre was like this in the early dawn, when the fishing boats were putting to sea. You looked inland and saw the cows up to their bellies in the milk of the mist, you looked at the rocks out to sea and saw them monstrous, rearing out of the sea half seen, half invisible, seeming to undulate slowly as the mist began to dissipate.
And the smells here were not so different either. Seaweed, sand, the smell of wet rocks, the softer scents of grass and leaf which came to you in wafts as you left the sea and began to climb up the beach.
He found a little lane wandering between the lush meadows and followed it a short way. He leaned on a mossy gate and considered the cows beyond, a long stem of grass sweet between his teeth. Higher up the lane trees leaned, forming a green tunnel. There would be wild raspberries in the woods, he had already sampled some of the sweet, sharp little wild strawberries from the banks of the lane.
He turned to retrace his steps. They would eat, then begin to load the cargo. Best get back before he was missed.
Get back! If only he could go back home, but there had been a fierce and terrible row between him and his father before he left and there had been deep bad feeling on both sides.
‘The girl is a good girl,’ Davy had shouted at him. ‘No word
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