Evans Above Read Free Page A

to be too cold, is it and he could always make for the kiosk and shelter there. It might teach him a lesson about taking our Welsh mountains more seriously.”

    He smiled at the major. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to chapel. I don’t want to miss the reverend Parry Davies’ sermon. Heard about him, have you? He’s a famous orator. Goes to the eisteddfods every year and wins prizes, and gives powerful good sermons—all hellfire and damnation. You can almost smell the brimstone. The Reverend Powell-Jones has had to have double glazing put on his windows.”
    His gaze drifted across the street to the other chapel, Beulah, where the Reverend Powell-Jones was conducting his own evening worship. He made up for his lack of Parry Davies’ power of oratory by giving his sermons in Welsh and then in English. Since this took well over an hour, his congregation was considerably smaller than Bethel’s—mainly old women who had grown up as Welsh speakers and ardent nationalists. Still, it was hard to compete against Bethel’s added advantage: A footpath behind it that led to the back door of the Red Dragon.
    Even though all the pubs in Wales were now officially allowed to open on Sundays, Llanfair was one of those pockets of religious righteousness where Sunday drinking was still outwardly frowned upon, and the front door of the pub remained firmly shut to strangers. The back door, however, was open to admit regular customers, which was why most of the men of Llanfair attended evening services at Chapel Bethel.
    â€œDo I understand that you’re refusing to do anything to help?” the major blustered. “I’m going to have a word with your superiors about this.”
    â€œWhen I get word that someone’s in trouble, then I’ll be all too willing to help, major,” Evan said. “So will all the lads in the village. But we’re all volunteers, you know. We can’t go wandering all over the mountains looking for someone who might not even be up there by now. It’s going to be dark soon
and I can’t risk losing one of my lads over a cliff, can I? Look, why don’t you call me in the morning if he hasn’t shown up. But right now God and Mr. Parry Davies are calling, if you don’t mind.”
    The major strode off, muttering, “Oh, this is absurd. Completely useless. Village idiots, the lot of them …”
    Charlie Hopkins turned back to Evan with an apologetic shrug. “You don’t suppose we should have gone, do you, Evan bach? That’s the type who likes to make trouble. Got friends in high places.”
    Evan scowled at the major’s disappearing back. “If he had friends in the right sort of high places,” he said pointing up at the silhouette of the mountain, “then they could bloody well look for his missing climber themselves and leave us in peace.”
    Charlie Hopkins chuckled and reluctantly Evan laughed, too. “I’m sorry, Charlie, but that man gets my goat. Barkin’ orders as if he was still in the army. We’re only volunteers, after all. Nobody pays us to go traipsing over mountains, ruining our good shoes and missing our chapel.”
    Mr. Hopkins dug Evan in the side. “Don’t let me keep you then, constable,” he said. “You’ll be wanting to get back for the rest of the sermon, I don’t doubt.”
    He winked at Evan.
    â€œAfter you, Mr. Hopkins,” Evan said, giving him a little shove in the direction of the chapel door. “You’re the usher. You have to be there to collect the hymn books, don’t you?”
    Mr. Hopkins looked at the chapel door and then let his gaze wander further down the street to where the Red Dragon pub sign was swinging in the evening breeze. “They all know where the hymn books go,” he said. “And it sounds like the Reverend Parry Davies is cutting it short tonight. He must be as