A Million Tears Read Online Free PDF Page A

in Welsh, although some of the English congregation did not understand the vicar nor the hymns we sang.
    When it was over I found Mam talking to aunt Maud and asked her if I could go home, as I was feeling ill.
    ‘I was going to send you home,’ she said. ‘I’ll bring you something up when we get home. Go on, I’ll tell the vicar you won’t be here this afternoon. Off you go.’
    When I got back I went to bed and tried to read. Quite soon my eyes began to ache and I gave up. I must have fallen asleep and did not hear the others returning. I woke sometime in the afternoon and realised nobody was in the house. I dozed, just below the surface of awareness, able to dream but controlling my thoughts at the same time. It was my favourite state, like just before falling asleep. As usual I dreamed I had made a fortune, though how I did so always seemed slightly different in different dreams, the details hazy. I never regretted leaving my dream world for the real one, which I saw as a challenge. It was my goal, the object of my existence.
    I came awake finally when Mam came in to see me. ‘How’re you feeling, Dai?’
    ‘Okay, I guess. I’m a bit shivery like, but otherwise I’m fine.’
    ‘I’ll bring you up some hot broth. Do you want anything else?’
    I shook my head, no mean feat with it resting on a pillow. ‘Oh yes,’ I changed my mind. ‘Could I have the atlas please? Just to look at because my eyes ache if I read.’
    ‘I’ll bring it up but don’t go straining your eyesight mind you. If I think you are now, I’ll come and take it away.’
    ‘Okay Mam.’ I hid a smile. She often made threats but never carried them out, not even the mildest. Even so we never needed telling more than once . . . well, perhaps twice. With Da it was never, ever, more than once.
    The door flew open. ‘Here’s your atlas,’ said Sian, throwing it onto the bed. ‘I can’t stop. I’m going to have tea with Uncle James.’ It took me a second or two to realise we did not have an Uncle James.
    She grinned. ‘Mr Price. He told us to call him Uncle James. He’s going to build me a doll’s house. He said if we went over today we could talk about it. And he told Sion he had some, – what is it? Bamboo? – Something like that. So I must rush. Sion’s waiting for me.’ She slammed the door behind her, earning a rebuke from Mam, but still she slammed the front door. Sian was convinced doors only closed properly when slammed.
    I picked up the atlas. It fell open at America. Uncle James . . . they were becoming very friendly. They were getting a doll’s house and I guessed the bamboo was for a kite. I decided to call on him as soon as I was better. There might be something he could get me, though I wasn’t sure. Apart from my books I had no other real interest.
    I concentrated on the atlas, losing myself as I wandered across the American prairies.
    The plate by the bed was empty now and when the door opened I thought it was Mam to take it away. Instead it was Da. He sat on the edge of the bed.
    ‘How’re you feeling son?’
    ‘I’m all right, Da. I’ll be up and about in no time.’ In those days concern over a simple cold was not unusual. Colds easily became pneumonia or pleurisy, or whatever it was called. To die was not uncommon from such illnesses, which was why Mam had sent me straight to bed.
    ‘Well, keep warm and if there’s anything you want just yell. Do you want any more soup? I can fetch it for you, if you like.’
    ‘No thanks, Da.’ I propped myself up against the pillows. ‘I was talking to Mam the other day about leaving here and going to some other country. Do you and Mam talk about it?’
    ‘Sometimes. Why do you ask?’
    ‘Don’t get me wrong but don’t you think there’s a chance of a better life somewhere else? I’ve read about America and Africa. It all sounds too good to be true. Is it? I mean, is it true?’ I paused and added hastily, ‘Da, I’m really grateful for all you and Mam