21 Days In Neath, A Book Serialisation

Chapter 1

It had been an extraordinary summer for Edward Chapman by any standards.  It had begun with him married to one woman, Alice.  Now he was with another, Jill.  He’d been living in a quaint, little village just outside Oxford, recently retired after reaching sixty and about to enjoy the fruits of a very successful career as an investment banker.  That was before he’d discovered his wife’s affair with a younger and it must be said more handsome work colleague, Paul.  On a whim Edward had fled to Swansea, the city of the university where he’d graduated some forty years earlier, and where he’d met and fallen in love with his first and now deceased wife, Angela, leaving him to bring up a daughter and son alone.  Edward had fled to escape, but also to reflect and to reassess his life and the various choices he’d made, how he’d turned his back on his more creative urges and impulses in pursuit of making money to provide for his family, a choice that had made him exceedingly well off, but hadn’t always sat entirely comfortably with him.

        Now through a strange set of circumstances, he’d turned his back on that life and was embracing a new one.  Instead of returning home, he found himself living above a second-hand bookshop in a little backstreet on the corner of King Edward Road, which he was helping to run with its somewhat disorganised owner, Jill.  He and Jill had also formed a romantic liaison, which had reawakened Edward’s interest in sex among other things.  He’d also unwittingly taken on the care of an ageing labrador, Beti, whom Edward regularly took for walks round the local parks and up and down Mumbles Road, with its panoramic views of Swansea Bay.

        Summer was nearly over and autumn was fast approaching.  It had been a glorious summer, a summer of love, but the last days of September were gradually drawing to a close.  It was how Edward remembered Swansea best in many ways.  It was about the time as an undergraduate he’d have been returning for the start of a new academic year and the promise and anticipation of what it might bring.  The blue skies above were invariably soon to give way to the wet and greyness of October and November.  As a student Edward recalled Swansea most vividly in the rain.  In his memory it had seemed to him to be always raining in autumn and winter.  On many days he’d battled the elements along Oystermouth Road, going to and from the city shopping centre.  He still had these distant memories of Swansea, despite the fact he’d just enjoyed a summer of comparative warm weather and sunshine with Jill. 

        Edward was a changed man.  He was no longer the person who’d arrived from Oxford a few months earlier.  He had a neatly trimmed beard for a start, whereas he’d been clean-shaven in his professional life.  He’d begun to embrace his more artistic side.  As well as helping out in the bookshop, he’d started writing poetry and returned to the painting and drawing of his youth.  He’d adopted a more relaxed appearance in line with Jill’s own.  Gone were the suits and collared shirts of his working days.  In their place he’d adopted a more arty look, in keeping with his newfound position of an ageing scholar and thespian.

        Jill had changed Edward in other ways too.  She was a committed vegan.  As a result he found himself increasingly adopting a vegetarian diet himself.  He no longer ate meat, and rarely ate cheese or eggs.  Given a bit longer and he’d eventually be a fully-fledged vegan too by default, he realised.  It had been good for his health.  Coupled with the walking, it had helped him to lose weight.  He was as trim as he’d been in years.  This was fortuitous, as he’d developed minor heart rhythm issues in his latter days of working, no doubt caused in part by the many rich and elaborate lunches and dinners his job had required he attend, all washed down with copious amounts of wine, port and brandy.  Now that life was behind him, and he’d adopted a much more humble one, despite the money he had in the bank and still tied up in investments.  He wasn’t that bothered with all that in truth.  He’d been happy to leave that life and the big house he’d shared with Alice, alone since the kids had left home, in the past.

        He’d had little contact with his estranged wife, Alice, since he’d discovered her affair and left Oxford in a hurry.  He’d ignored her texts and phone calls at first.  He’d needed time to think and get his head straight.  It had been a shock as much as anything.  It had been a shock to his system.  It could have sent his heart and emotions reeling in more ways than one.  Luckily it hadn’t, and he’d slowly come to terms with what had happened.  Eventually he’d messaged her, and they’d spoken briefly on the phone, but only to tell her he’d be remaining in Wales for the foreseeable future, despite her insistence he return immediately to talk things through and sort out whatever needed to be sorted out.  That he’d steadfastly refused to do.  He hadn’t even returned to collect more of his things.  He’d just made do, or bought new ones.             

        Besides why should he return, when he was happy doing what he was doing?  It wasn’t how he’d expected to be spending his retirement, but he found he enjoyed pottering round in the bookshop.  To some extent he’d transformed it.  He’d now catalogued most of the stock, and established an online presence by setting up a proper and easy to navigate website.  It meant they could sell books without even being open.  It also meant Jill could reduce the shop’s opening hours and still make more money than she’d ever been doing before.  It gave them more time for other things, in Edward’s case for writing and painting, and exploring Wales, normally with Jill, but sometimes on his own.

        That was how by chance Edward ended up in Neath one afternoon.  He’d spent a couple of hours in the bookshop in the morning, and then shut early.  He’d decided to take himself off on the train, whilst Jill visited her elderly and slowly ailing mother, who was still in her own home, supported by various carers, but unlikely to be for much longer.  Jill was having to go round more and more often of late.  Edward regularly accompanied her, but on this occasion she told him to go and do something for himself instead.  Neath was only one stop away.  He’d been before and enjoyed it, so he thought why not go again.

        When he’d first come to Wales, Edward had been reliably informed Neath was a dump and not to bother going there.  Of course he’d wanted to see and find out for himself.  He’d been pleasantly surprised by what he’d found.  It was much better than he expected.  In fact it was a fascinating old Welsh market town, with its vibrant market still open and the centre located near the banks of the River Neath in the shadow of the ruins of its former Norman castle.  It was a well laid out town out in a concentric style, with everything within relatively easy reach and walking distance of everything else. 

        From the railway station it was only a short walk down Windsor Road and The Parade to Castle Street.  Alternatively it was possible to walk from the station straight down Green Street, where the market and most of the shops were located.  A right turn along Queen Street led to the beautiful Victoria Gardens.  In every direction there was history and interest.  After sitting for a while by the bandstand, a short walk down Orchard Street or Water Street led straight back to the main shops.  More continued on the other side of Green Street, down New Street and Angel Street towards the Morrisons supermarket. 

        As Edward had time on his hands he wandered at an unhurried pace in all these directions, crisscrossing the town centre at his leisure.  He was pleased to note a large Boots was still present, as was WH Smith, although this had been rebranded as TG Jones and also served as the main post office.  He was disappointed to note the town had lost its flagship M&S store, which much have been a huge blow to the local economy.  It had closed in May 2024 and as yet the vacant premises hadn’t been taken over.  On the plus side a new Lounge café-bar and an independent deli had both appeared by the leisure centre since his last visit.  There was also a new hipster coffee house in Shufflebottom Lane, giving testament to green shoots of recovery among the closed businesses, that sadly appeared all too commonly in all town centres since the advent of online shopping.  Neath was no different, but it still held appeal and fascination for Edward.  It was easy for him to imagine its more illustrious past, when every shop had been occupied and the streets probably rammed.  They were still busy enough.

        Eventually Edward made his way back to Victoria Gardens, where on the far side away from the bus station, his eye was suddenly caught by a small but picturesque tearoom, hidden away and easy to miss.  It was only the fact that Edward was attuned to looking for hidden gems that he even noticed its presence.  Most people would probably have passed by oblivious.  Edward didn’t and decided to investigate further.  He was feeling a little parched and ready for some modest refreshment.  This could be the perfect location for a short rest, where he could recharge his batteries.

        The first thing Edward noticed about the tearoom was that it was also a shop, apparently selling local Welsh crafts and produce.  The other thing he noticed was that despite being open, there was a for sale sign outside.  That was a small mystery in itself.  Edward liked mysteries, and it made him inclined to investigate further. Indeed it made him choose this particular small café over those other options available to him, both at the top of Queen Street and others conveniently located opposite the line of local bus ranks.

        Edward wandered inside.  Only a couple of tables were occupied, so it was easy for him to find somewhere to sit.  There were only about six in total, as a portion of the premises was given over to the shop side of the business.  Edward made himself comfortable, and began perusing the menu in front of him.  There wasn’t too much for vegans, he noted, not that he was a vegan himself, but Jill, whom he was now living with, was.  Edward wasn’t even officially vegetarian, but had found himself becoming so by default.  Even when he was out without her, he found himself reluctant to order anything that he knew would cause her offence.  Meat was definitely off the menu for him, and he was gradually weening himself off eggs and dairy too. 

        Edward looked around.  The tearoom definitely had old school charm.  It had vintage décor and furnishings that were pleasing to the eye.  It was the kind of establishment where it would be possible to linger over a pot of tea without feeling hurried.  Once inside its doors, time almost seemed to slow down.  The worries and fast pace of the outside world could be left outside.  Edward had a sense it probably hadn’t changed much in years.  It was still kept fastidiously clean and tidy.  There wasn’t so much as hint of dust on the floor or surfaces.

        Two people were serving.  They looked like a husband and wife team.  They reminded Edward a little of Alan and Gwen, who’d run the guesthouse he’d stayed at for several weeks before moving in with Jill.  Edward guessed they were in their mid-sixties, even older than he was himself.  When he went out these days, he found most people were younger than he was.  It was generally a pleasant surprise to encounter people of a similar age to himself and still working, who’d grown up in the same decades and perhaps had some shared experiences.  Many of his contemporaries were now retired, or at least thinking about it, though few people he encountered were as well off as Edward.  He didn’t like to brag about his comparative wealth.  He generally chose to keep that bit of information private.  Indeed he hadn’t even told Jill he was a wealthy man, until they’d started dating.

        The husband and wife team worked with quiet efficiency.  The wife seemed to be mainly busying herself in the kitchen, whilst her husband brought out trays of drinks, cakes, scones and other goodies for the various tables.  It was late afternoon, nearly 4pm, and Edward realised he hadn’t eaten properly yet.  He’d just had a small snack in the bookshop, before deciding to shut early.  Edward liked his food and couldn’t go a whole day without eating properly.  When the gentleman serving, presumably the proprietor, had finished with another table, he came over to take Edward’s order.

        ‘Could I have a jacket potato with beans?’ Edward asked politely.

        ‘Yes, I think we’ve still got one left,’ the proprietor nodded.  ‘Would you like salad with it?’ he enquired.

        ‘Yes please, but no butter or spread,’ Edward requested.

        That way it would be vegan, and Jill could eat it.  Even though she wasn’t with him, he was still concerned for her sensibilities.

        ‘Anything to drink?’ the proprietor continued, writing Edward’s order down.

        ‘Just a pot of tea,’ Edward replied.  ‘And soya or oat milk if you’ve got it.  No worries if you haven’t.’

        ‘I think we have some soya,’ Edward was told.  ‘I’ll just go and get it.’

        When the proprietor returned with Edward’s tea and placed it down before him, Edward, who liked to ask questions, endeavoured to strike up a conversation.  He found his methodical and enquiring mind had served him well in the world of commerce.

        ‘Nice place you’ve got here,’ Edward commented.

        ‘We like to think so,’ the proprietor agreed.

        ‘How long have you had it?’ Edward wondered.

        ‘We’ve been here about 25 years.  I used to work in local industry, but was made redundant when I was about forty.  We used the redundancy money towards buying this place,’ the owner explained.

        The Swansea, Neath, Port Talbot area had once been highly industrialised, but gradually most of the traditional industries had closed for good.  Only the huge steelworks at Port Talbot remained, and that was gradually being wound down.  Its last blast furnace had closed in October 2024 at the cost of around 2,000 jobs, and now only imported steel was processed there.  One working mine remained at Aberpergwm in the Vale of Neath, providing coal for the steelworks, as well as producing high-grade anthracite.  The others had all gone.  It was a similar story in the other valleys.  Most of the working men had been forced to find other work and occupations.

        ‘What was it before it was a tearoom?’ Edward asked.

        ‘It was a post office at one time,’ the proprietor replied.

        Local post offices were something else that had largely disappeared.  Edward mourned the disappearance of all these things, sports shops, record shops, department stores and the familiar brand names that had once filled the High Streets of his youth, like Woolworths and British Home Stores and Debenhams and Littlewoods and so many more.  Edward was nostalgic about the past.  He disliked change, although he’d been forced to embrace change himself.  He’d been dragged kicking and screaming into a changing world almost against his will.  He’d been forced to accept things weren’t as they were, and never would be again.  He still remained misty-eyed for the memories of his younger days.

        ‘That’s interesting,’ Edward noted, seeing all too well how it could have once been a busy post office.

        ‘We extended it into the back to make space for the tearoom as well as the shop,’ the proprietor stated.

        ‘But I see it’s for sale?’ Edward observed.

        ‘That’s right.  We’re selling up, or would like to,’ the owner said.  ‘We’re thinking of retiring.  We’d like to use the proceeds from this place to buy a little cottage in Gowerton on the edge of the Gower we’ve enquired about and rather set our hearts on.’

        ‘That’s fascinating,’ Edward remarked.

        It started getting his mind thinking, in ways perhaps it shouldn’t have done.  Just then the proprietor’s wife brought out Edward’s jacket potato with beans and salad that he’d ordered.

        ‘That looks delicious,’ he said, as he picked up his knife and fork and began eating.

        ‘I’m Edward by the way,’ he announced, as he took his first mouthful of the steaming food.

        ‘I’m Gwyn, Gwyn Thomas, and this is my wife, Sian,’ Gwyn replied.

        ‘Lovely to meet you both,’ Edward said.  ‘And what good, traditional Welsh names you have too,’ he added, casually complimenting them, as he liked to put people at their ease if he could. 

        They smiled.  Edward was the kind of well-mannered customer they welcomed in their tearoom.

        ‘Out of interest how much are you asking for the place?’ Edward continued, although he wasn’t quite sure why he was so interested.

        It was almost as if he was thinking out loud.  Surely it was out of the question he would consider actually buying the property?  He wouldn’t, would he?  Gwyn quoted what to Edward seemed a very reasonable price, and then left him to eat his food. 

        ‘Although we’re open to offers,’ Gwyn called out, as he made his way back to the kitchen.

        It wouldn’t buy you so much as a flat or bedsit back in Oxford, Edward reflected.  It wouldn’t even buy you a shed in London.  Edward started to consider the possibilities.  He wasn’t sure if he was doing so simply for personal amusement or because it actually had a basis in potential reality.  Either way he could see how the tearoom could easily be converted into a bookshop and coffee shop.  It wouldn’t even require a change of usage.  It was already a café and shop.  It could easily take all the excess stock they didn’t have room for in the Swansea shop, and the kitchen could be used for coffee, cakes and simple savoury dishes, like sandwiches, quiches and pasties, all served with a handful of salad and crisps.  Soup and bread could be served in the winter on cold, wet days. 

        They could catch potential customers walking into town or to Victoria Gardens, or even dog walkers coming to and from the more distant Gnoll Country Park, just beyond the famous old Neath rugby ground.  It was a lot to think about.  There was a lot to take in and consider.  Edward would need to check out the competition for a start.  He’d seen a very attractive café at the top of Queen Street called Forty Six.  What he hadn’t seen was a bookshop.  He and Jill could even live above.  There could split their time between Swansea and Neath.  They could even hire employees to share the running of both shops, or run them for them whist they concentrated on the admin side.  Money wasn’t really an object.  Edward could afford to buy the property outright in cash.  It would barely touch his considerable finances.  Although he had to remember at the back of his mind he could be facing an expensive divorce in the not too distant future.  But even if Alice took half, he’d still be very rich.  It really was a lot to think about and to discuss with Jill at some point. 

        What Edward did know was that against his better judgement, he’d rather fallen in love with the place.  He also knew he’d have to find out a lot more before he did anything about it.  He also guessed he’d be returning to Neath again very soon.  Perhaps next time Jill would be with him.  Edward had a fair idea where he’d be taking her.  There were even parks very nearby where they could walk their dog Beti.

        When Edward finished eating, he thanked Gwyn and Sian profusely for their hospitality.  He promised to return to see them again soon.  He knew he would, not least to view the property once more, after he’d had more time to reflect on the implications of possibly buying it and taking it on as a business.  Part of him told himself he was just being foolish.  Another side of his brain could see the idea actually had genuine potential and possibilities.  He was also confident he could be happy spending some of his time in Neath.

         Before leaving Edward couldn’t resist purchasing both a jar of local jam and a jar of locally made chutney, both vegan as he checked, to take home to Jill.  He liked to support local businesses and producers where he could.  Despite making his money from big business, it was the little enterprises he admired most.  Edward then said his goodbyes, before departing the tearoom.  He was the last to leave.  He couldn’t imagine there would be any more customers that particular day, as Gwyn and Sian would be closing shortly.  It was nearly 5pm.

        Edward was so close to the famous old Gnoll rugby ground, he couldn’t resist walking that little bit further to see it once more.  He’d visited as a student to watch Neath play Swansea in the days before regional rugby, when local rivalry between the legendary rugby towns of South Wales was huge and who won or lost was a source of massive local interest and pride.  He recalled attending a Welsh Cup Final in the early 1980s when Neath had played Cardiff.  The men and women of Neath had descended on the Welsh capital in force.  Edward recalled the team’s famous black shirts taking the field and giving a good account of themselves in defeat. 

        Edward continued to follow the progress of Neath RFC later in the decade, when they’d established themselves as not only the best team in Wales, but one of the strongest in Europe, putting the town of Neath firmly on the map.  He’d followed the club principally as several of his fellow graduates had gone on to play for them, although their standards of play were in a very different league to his own.  They had skill, speed and power.  Edward recalled with affection running into a famous Neath centre on one occasion when playing as an undergraduate and it being like running into stone or brick.  The man had a stomach that seemed made of teak, leaving Edward in a heap on the floor.  It hadn’t seemed so funny then, but he could smile about it now.  Edward had been more of a footballer than rugby player in his university days, though he played both, but he was more third team material than first team in truth.  He’d been happy just to be playing with better players than he was himself.  Now he restricted himself to just the occasional game of tennis, though he’d read both walking football and walking rugby were fun for the older, less fit player and a good way to keep active. 

        Whilst Edward had continued to follow the fortunes of Neath and the other South Wales clubs, his first loyalty was of course always to Swansea, where he’d studied, and Cardiff, where his father had grown up, after his grandfather’s family had moved down from the Merthyr area.  Originally from Yorkshire they’d moved to Wales in Victorian times, when Wales was being rapidly industrialised and coal was the driving force fuelling the ongoing Industrial Revolution.  There was money to be made from servicing the industry for the clever entrepreneur, of whom Edward’s great grandfather had been one.

        Edward stood at the gates for a moment or two admiring the famous pitch and grandstand.  Of course it was small by modern standards, and nothing like the size of the newer grounds where regional rugby was played.  He’d been surprised how small the legendary Pontypool Park was on a visit there.  Of course he much preferred these compact older grounds to the huge new football and rugby stadiums that were being built.  Edward tried to imagine some of the famous matches that had been played on that hallowed Gnoll turf.  He knew Neath had entertained such touring luminaries as the New Zealand All Blacks and the South Africa Springboks over the years, and given those international sides a run for their money, such had been Neath’s prowess in the club’s heyday.

        Edward looked at his watch.  He could just go back, but he was always one to look around the next corner to see what was there.  He’d checked the weather forecast before leaving.  He always did, particularly in Wales, where it could change suddenly without warning.  Sunshine and showers had been forecast.  In fact the showers hadn’t materialised.  Now the sun had come out and there were blue skies above.  Rather than begin his walk back to the train station, Edward found himself continuing down Gnoll Park Road and turning right into Harle Street.  He knew Gnoll Country Park wasn’t very far away.  He’d been briefly once before, although he’d forgotten the path up to it was quite steep and a slight test for his heart condition. 

        When he reached the top he was quite breathless, but it was worth it.  Green meadows gave way to a huge lake, with impressive water features.  Dog owners waked their pets in both directions along the path that went round it.  There was a car park at the main entrance, so presumably most visitors came by car, but no doubt some walked, perhaps passing the tearoom he was considering buying.  Edward sat on a bench overlooking the water, which rippled with the movement of ducks, geese and swans.  He wanted to catch his breath and lap up the late afternoon, early evening sunshine.  He knew there wouldn’t be much more, with autumn on its way.

        Edward took out a book from his pocket.  It was the classic Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo, obviously in an English translation.  His French was nowhere near good enough to read it in its original text.  Despite being such a famous book, it was one Edward had never got round to reading.  Then he’d seen a copy lying about whilst he was sorting through stock in the bookshop, and decided to pick it up.  On a whim he’d added it to his growing pile of books to read that he was gradually getting through.  He was a keen reader, so both reading and helping to run a bookshop were no great hardships to him.

        Edward looked at his watch again.  It was now 6pm.  It was time to get back to Jill.  She’d probably be waiting for him, wondering where he was, although she hadn’t texted.  She was probably already home, preparing something for them to eat.  She was a good cook, even if it was only vegan food she prepared.  Edward walked back past the rugby ground and Victoria Gardens, down Water Street and left into Green Street.  It would have been quicker to walk straight down Queen Street, but he wanted to be certain he hadn’t missed anything earlier.  As Edward walked back through the town, almost all the shops, except for the late-night ones, had closed.  The new Lounge café bar was only just starting to get busy, however, although it had probably had a lunchtime rush earlier. 

        It didn’t take Edward long to get back to the railway station.  It was probably no more than twenty minutes from the country park, as everything in the town was conveniently and centrally located.  Edward checked the times of trains.  He had a half an hour wait for the next one, travelling from London Paddington into Swansea.  There was a Wetherspoons opposite, so he decided to get a glass of wine whilst he waited.  He sat down and took out his book and continued to read to pass the moments.  He left allowing himself plenty of time to get the train, which was running on time from the far platform.  It was only a ten or fifteen minute journey into Swansea.  It was still nearly 7.30pm when he finally got back to Jill.

        ‘You’ve been a while.  Did you have a good time?’ she asked, greeting him with a kiss.

        ‘I did,’ Edward replied, giving her a kiss back.  ‘And I found something interesting in Neath I want to show you in the next day or two, when you have a moment we can go.’

        ‘What’s that?’ Jill wondered.

        ‘You’ll see,’ Edward said, not wishing to say too much just yet.

        He wanted to keep it a secret.  He wanted Jill at least to see it, before she shot down his idea in flames.  Not that he was going to let her do that.  He could be quite stubborn when he wanted to be.  He had a feeling he’d already made his mind up.  If nothing else the purchase of the property could be an investment.  He could do it up and sell it on for more, not that he needed the money.  He didn’t.  It would just be a little project, but he rather fancied the idea of living there opposite the park, at least for part of the week.

        Jill was indeed cooking as Edward anticipated.  She prepared them a lovely vegan meal as she always did.  It had so much flavour Edward would never have known he wasn’t eating meat, or dairy or eggs.  He found he’d got used to tofu as a rather agreeable substitute.  Edward thanked her and promised to take her out somewhere nice to eat by way of thanks the following night.  They were still enjoying the honeymoon phase of their relationship. 

        After Edward had washed up, they sat down to watch television and drink wine together.  It was too late for Edward to start writing or drawing or painting.  He was too tired from all his walking.  That could wait for another day.  Now he was retired, or perhaps more accurately semi- retired, he could always find a little time here or there for his hobbies.  Now he’d got the bookshop shipshape, he could even do some there whilst he waited for customers to appear or ring or come online. 

        Instead he and Jill just curled up together on the sofa, sipping their wine, a full-bodied red with excellent flavour.  They went to bed early that night.  They read for a bit, before turning the lights off and making love.  Edward was still enjoying that aspect of their coming together, after a somewhat barren patch with his wife, Alice.  She’d no doubt been too busy sleeping with Paul to worry about his needs.  Edward hadn’t forgotten his Neath project.  It was still going round in his head, as he thought through all the ramifications and potential pitfalls of such an impulse purchase.  He was determined to get Jill to Neath at the first opportunity he got, so she could see the tearoom for herself and hopefully also fall in love with it. 

        It was strange.  As an English student in Wales in the 1980s Edward had been quite scared of going to such towns as Neath, particularly alone.  He found the people there suspicious of strangers and outsiders.  Of course he’d been into music and fashion and looked more outlandish, which hadn’t helped.  The fashions of Oxford and London had at the time yet to reach the streets of Neath, Port Talbot and Llanelli.  Now to his pleasant surprise, everything had changed.  He was welcomed with open arms almost everywhere he went, despite his evident Englishness.  It only made Edward love such places more.  He was already growing to like Neath, just as he had a strong affection for Swansea and Cardiff.

        Edward spent much of the next day busying himself in the Swansea bookshop he now jointly ran with his new business and life partner Jill, although it was pretty quiet in truth.  Most of the business was now generated by a greater online presence, and the shop’s increased profile through more advertising, which had successfully served to generate more phone and email enquiries, that Edward was only too pleased to handle personally.  Only a small number of select customers actually came into the shop.  Edward didn’t mind that too much.  It meant he could get on with other things.  He actually enjoyed pottering about there in the quiet, although sometimes he played music in the background.  He found it quite relaxing.  As an avid reader himself, and now as a writer too, he liked being surrounded by books.

        Generally he and Jill took turns manning the bookshop, although they sometimes did it together.  They often opened late or shut early.  Sometimes they didn’t open at all, if it was a nice day and they wanted to go off somewhere in Jill’s car, which it must be said had seen better days, or by train on the many local services run by Transport For Wales that crisscrossed the Principality.  When he’d first started helping Jill, Edward had been keen to maintain more consistent hours, but he’d slowly realised it was pointless.  Not enough people came in to justify it, although there was a permanent notice on the front door providing a telephone number for people to ring if they wanted anything.             

        Edward’s mind was already thinking ahead.  Long term he had plans to employ someone to look after the Swansea shop, whilst he and Jill got the Neath one up and running, assuming he did push ahead with that ambitious project.  He even had half an idea who might take on that role, but he was keeping that to himself for the time being.  He just needed to get Jill to come to Neath with him to take a look at the tearoom for herself, and hopefully see the potential it had that he could see.  He was hoping to get her there the next day, which would be a Friday.  They could open for a few hours in the morning and then head over around lunchtime.  They could even check out some of the nearby cafés, which would be their main competition if things went according to plan.

        One crushing disappointment was the small vegan coffee shop just down from the bookshop had suddenly closed one day without warning.  Whilst highly suspicious of it at first, Edward had come to rely on their sausage or breakfast baps as a late breakfast or early lunch, together with his customary latte coffee, to provide him with a welcome energy boost and pick-me-up for the rest of the day.  Though because of his minor heart condition he was forced to restrict his caffeine intake to a degree.  If he had both a tea and a coffee in the morning, he generally went for decaffeinated during the afternoon and evening.  But the shop where he’d bought his coffee for the last few months had gone.  One day he’d visited with eager anticipation only to find the door locked and the shutters up.  He was already salivating at the prospect of his sausage bag, only to be disappointed.

        It did give him another idea though.  One day they could serve coffee and cakes and simple savoury snacks at the Swansea bookshop, just as he planned to do in Neath.  They had the space to do so.  It might attract more people through the doors.  They could have a cosy reading area with a sofa and comfy chairs, where people could sit quietly reading as they sipped their coffee.  Jill already did similar when she hosted her book club there, as they chatted about literature over glasses of wine.  It wouldn’t take much effort to make it a more formal, designated setting, Edward realised.  And Jill already had the basics of a mini kitchen at the back, with a kettle and small fridge, so she didn’t have to keep going upstairs all the time to make a cup of tea or sandwich.  Of course he’d have to discuss it all with her first before they went ahead.

        Edward was true to his word and took Jill out for a nice meal that night.  They often went to one they liked in the Uplands, but on this occasion they went to another they were very fond of at the bottom of Wind Street, away from most of the clubbers and noisy drinkers.  The notorious part of the city had been very different in Edward’s day back in the 1980s.  It had been the location for the big banks and financial institutions, and indeed a couple of second-hand bookshops.  There were none of the pubs, clubs and café-bars it had become famous for since the 1990s and 2000s.  It had been relatively quiet when Edward had walked down it over forty years ago, on one of his frequent visits to the city museum.  There had been no indication then of what it was to become.  

        Of course change was inevitable.  Things didn’t just stand still.  Edward understood that.  It didn’t mean he had to like it.  In many ways he was stuck in the past, but he was trying is best to get with-it.  He still mourned the decline of town centres.  He liked them much more when he’d been a young man out shopping for clothes and vinyl records, and every town had its own department store.  Swansea had once boasted a fair number.  Now everything had gone online.  The internet had a lot to answer for.  It had also assisted in making him rich, though he’d remained a traditional trader to the last.

        ‘That was a lovely meal,’ Jill said when they’d finished eating, as she wiped her lips with her napkin.  ‘Thank you so much.  You really know how to treat me Edward.’

        ‘My pleasure,’ he beamed with genuine pleasure.  ‘But there is one small thing I want you to do for me in return.’

        ‘What’s that?’ Jill said, suddenly looking intrigued.

        For a moment she thought he meant sex, but he got that anyway, so it must be something else.

        ‘I want you to come to Neath with me tomorrow afternoon.  If you remember there’s something I want to show you there,’ Edward explained.

        ‘I can do that, but I can’t imagine what’s possibly worth seeing in Neath,’ Jill exclaimed.  ‘I hardly ever go into the town.  I’ve always thought of it as a bit of a dump and quite rough at night.  That’s its reputation anyway.’

        ‘People say that, don’t they?  But they’ve probably never been there.  You’ll see it’s not like that at all.  I’ll show you round and change your mind,’ Edward promised.  ‘We’ll get the train.  It’s barely more than ten minutes right to the centre.  I think you’ll find it is in fact a delightful and charming little market town.’

        With that he downed the remaining dregs of his wine, and politely asked for the bill, before they got a taxi home.  They didn’t open another bottle when they got in.  They’d drunk enough already.  Instead they watched television and read for a bit, before going to bed.  Edward made a mental note to get back to his creative pursuits at the weekend.  He’d rather neglected them that week.  His mind had been on other things.  He’d been thinking about his Neath project.

        The following day Jill and Edward shut the bookshop early at 1pm and headed to the station.  They hadn’t had many customers anyway.  The only orders they had were online ones, which they posted on their way.  That had become the mainstay of the business, that was keeping them just in profit.  Though for Edward it was more an interest than a business.  He shared the profits equally with Jill, but he was more concerned that she should take an income from it not him.  He needn’t need the money.  He could live very comfortably for the rest of his life on what he already had.

        ‘I feel quite excited,’ Jill announced, gripping Edward’s arm tightly.  ‘Although I can’t imagine why.  I’m only going to Neath.’

        ‘We’ll have a nice day,’ Edward assured her.

        He planned to take her on a similar route round the town as he’d followed himself earlier in the week, to show her all the sights.  Although he didn’t plan to take her to the country park just yet.  He guessed she wouldn’t want to walk quite that far.  They could save that little treat for another time.  They left Beti the labrador at home.  She was a very contented dog and would be fine on her own for a few hours, guarding the bookshop and rooms above until they returned.  She’d just fall asleep in one of her baskets.

        When Edward and Jill got to the station, the train was already standing at the platform.  That was the advantage of them starting from Swansea.  They were always on time, and were spacious modern trains travelling east to Cardiff, Newport, Bristol, Swindon, Reading and eventually London.  There was never a shortage of seats and the train fare to Neath was practically nothing.  It was just £4.20 return, and Edward still hadn’t invested in the Senior Railcard he was now entitled to, which when he did would provide a further reduction.  It was better than driving.  They could enjoy the scenery in comfort.  They could both relax, and didn’t have to worry about the irritations of parking, roadworks and traffic jams.

        It was a short but pleasant train ride, past the Swansea.Com football and rugby stadium and through what had once been a copper smelting industrial wasteland, but was now a pleasant mix of trees and small homes and residential properties.  Only the occasional vintage brick chimney bore testament to the landscape’s historic past.  The rest had been neatly airbrushed out of existence.  It was similar to the famous Welsh valleys, which had largely been restored to their former beauty and now showed little evidence of their mining heritage. 

        It was only one stop before they got out at Neath.  It had taken just twelve minutes to travel the eleven miles by railway, although it was only seven by road, but took longer.  Travelling by train, it was almost impossible to tell where Swansea ended and Neath began.  The tightly packed housing estates, business parks and ample sporting facilities seemed to be virtually continuous.  There was no obvious point where Swansea finished and Neath started.  They were all part of one sprawling urban conglomeration.  As they left the railway station and crossed Windsor Road, they were already in the centre of Neath.

        ‘I drive through Neath all the time, but I don’t ever stop,’ Jill admitted.  ‘I can’t remember the last time I actually looked around the town.’

        ‘Well, you’re going to get a guided tour today,’ Edward told her and smiled.

        He quite liked the idea of him showing her round for once and for a change, as it was normally her introducing him to some picturesque delight of Wales that she’d known and visited since childhood.  They regularly went out sightseeing both in her car and by train when time allowed.  She liked to drive him to the scenic locations of the Gower peninsula, Carmarthenshire, Pembrokeshire and West Wales, as well as the Brecon Beacons of course.  They also headed to the coast and traditional seaside resorts of Porthcawl, Barry and Penarth among others. 

        Edward himself liked nothing better than visiting the old mining and rugby communities of the valleys, and insisted on going to these too, often by himself by train whilst Jill was minding the shop.  Jill couldn’t understand his fascination for such places, but Edward didn’t just want the tourist guide to Wales.  He wanted to see its gritty old towns and the people who inhabited them.  So far he’d been to Port Talbot, Bridgend, Pontypridd, Merthyr Tydfil, Ebbw Vale, Pontypool and Newport, and planned to visit more in time.  He’d found interest in all of them, although he suspected Pontypool had seen better days.  Most residents preferred to shop down the road at M Cwmbran, the biggest indoor shopping centre in Wales outside of Cardiff.  Edward particularly liked Pontypridd, although he recalled English students attending the polytechnic there slagging it off remorselessly back in the day.  The educational institution now boasted the more grandiose name of the University of South Wales.  Edward had likened Pontypridd to a mini Cardiff and had enjoyed the afternoon he’d spent there very much.

        Now he and Jill were in Neath.  They started at the famous old market, which was only a matter of yards from the train station.  Whilst it couldn’t compare with Swansea’s legendary indoor one or even Pontypridd’s for that matter, it was still fascinating in its own right and a valuable part of the town’s shopping amenities.  Jill seemed pleasantly impressed, and nodded her head approvingly, although she avoided the stalls selling meat products. 

        They then continued down Green Street, before turning left into New Street, eventually meandering their way round to the ruins of the town’s Norman Castle.  They sat on a bench there for a while to admire it.  Edward took a picture of Jill standing in front of it, and she took a picture of him.  They were both smiling.  It was another sunny day, which they knew they needed to take advantage of.  There wouldn’t be that many more of them.  It was generally wet in Wales in the autumn.

        ‘So what did you actually want to show me?’ Jill asked, when they eventually left the ruins.

        ‘Don’t worry.  I’m coming to that,’ Edward replied.  ‘Just be patient.’

        From the castle they continued down Old Market Street and then along Water Street, until they reached the Cross Keys pub on the corner of Victoria Gardens.  They entered the gardens and found a vacant spot to sit by the bandstand, which was the central feature of the park, where they sat together holding hands.

        ‘It’s nice here,’ Jill commented.

        ‘It’s lovely,’ Edward agreed.  ‘It’s really peaceful, although I’ve read they’ve had antisocial behaviour issues at night.’

        ‘You’d have no idea of that now though,’ Jill observed.

        ‘You wouldn’t,’ Edward concurred.

        ‘It’s a perfect place to just sit and relax when the sun’s out,’ Jill reflected.

        ‘It is,’ Edward said, glad Jill was beginning to see Neath in a more positive light, as he did himself.  ‘You’d really like the country park just down the road, but I think it’s a bit far to walk to today,’ he added.

        ‘Another time then,’ Jill said.

        ‘Indeed,’ Edward agreed.

        ‘I’m glad we came,’ Jill told him.

        ‘So am I,’ Edward said. 

        ‘It’s nicer than I remembered it,’ Jill admitted.

        ‘I hoped you’d say that,’ Edward confessed, feeling quite pleased.  ‘Are you hungry yet?’ he asked her.

        ‘A little,’ Jill replied.

        ‘That’s good, as there’s a quaint little tearoom just across the road that I’d like you to see,’ Edward informed her.

        Of course Gwyn and Sian remembered Edward straight away, and welcomed him warmly.  He was very happy to introduce them to his partner Jill.

        ‘Sit anywhere you want,’ Gwyn said.  ‘And it’s a pleasure to have you back so soon.’

        ‘It’s very charming,’ Jill noted, as she began studying the menu.

        ‘I’m glad you think so,’ Edward declared.

        ‘Why’s that?’ Jill asked.

        ‘Because I’m thinking of buying it,’ Edward announced and smiled.  ‘This is what I wanted you to see.  It’s for sale.’

        Jill was so shocked, she almost dropped the menu she was holding.  She didn’t know if Edward was being serious or not.  Apparently he was. 

        ‘But why?  I don’t understand.  We have the bookshop in Swansea,’ Jill pointed out, looking a little dumfounded.  ‘Isn’t that enough?  Why do we need another shop?’

        ‘I’m not quite sure myself,’ Edward admitted.  ‘Call it a whim or an impulse.  I guess I visited and just fell in love with it.’

        ‘How would we run two places, when at present we struggle to run one?’ Jill asked, all kinds of valid doubts rushing into her mind at once.

        ‘I’ve thought of that,’ Edward said.  ‘We’d employ staff to help run the shops, whilst we concentrated more on the admin side.’

        ‘I’m not sure,’ Jill said, remaining unconvinced.

        ‘Just picture it.  We could serve coffee and cakes and light snacks to people walking in and out of town and coming to the gardens to walk their dogs, and the shop would take all our excess stock,’ Edward explained, trying to share his vision with Jill.  ‘And as far as I can tell there’s no other bookshop in Neath at present.’

        ‘And where were you thinking we would live?’ Jill enquired.

        ‘I thought we could split our time between the two.  It might be nice having two homes to live in,’ Edward replied.

        He hoped he’d covered all bases.  In his head he had.

        ‘But what’s the rush to open a second shop?’ Jill continued, still having doubts.  ‘Are you sure about this?  Have you thought it through properly?’

        ‘Well, you only live once.  It might be a nice, little project for me,’ Edward ventured.  ‘If nothing else I think it would be a good investment and we could sell the property on for a profit.  It’s a very good asking price, as they are looking for a quick sale.  And we’re cash buyers.  There would be no mortgage involved,’ Edward said, outlining his plans and trying to make them seem as attractive as possible.

        ‘Well, it’s your money.  I guess you can do what you want with it,’ Jill eventually conceded and smiled.

        For a seemingly sensible man, Edward sometimes shocked her.  Of course he had the money to pull surprises out of the bag, money she could only dream of.  He was very rich.  She wasn’t.  She was the opposite.

        ‘Shall we eat?’ Edward said at last, having let the shock sink in, and smiling back at his understanding partner.

        ‘Why not,’ Jill agreed, and they ordered their food.

        When they’d finished eating, Edward beckoned Gwyn over.

        ‘I think I may have found a buyer for your tearoom and home,’ he whispered, not wishing anyone else to overhear.

        ‘Who’s that?’ Gwyn wondered, looking slightly taken back.  ‘It’s been on the market for a while, and we haven’t had much interest.’

        ‘Me,’ Edward announced.

        Gwyn had to let the words sink in for a moment or two, before he could find the words to reply.  Just like Jill he was quickly trying to assess if Edward was being serious or not.  Apparently he was.

        ‘Of course we’ll have to do all the official stuff, and get the place properly surveyed, but I think it’s fair to say we’re definitely very interested,’ Edward said.

        ‘Well, that’s amazing,’ Gwyn enthused, taking Edward’s hand and shaking it profusely.  ‘Looks like we might be getting our cottage after all, love,’ Gwyn shouted to his wife, who came out of the kitchen to share the good news.

        ‘We’ll be in touch soon to sort out all the details,’ Edward promised, as he and Jill left to further warm handshakes.

        ‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ Jill repeated, once they were back outside in the fresh air and on their own.

        ‘Probably not,’ Edward replied and laughed. 

        ‘You know you’re crazy,’ Jill said. 

        ‘I know,’ Edward agreed, giving her a loving hug.

        ‘And I thought I was the crazy one,’ Jill commented and shrugged, as if she was powerless to stop the unfolding madness.

        Edward laughed again.

        ‘You know I haven’t quite finished showing you round Neath,’ he said, leading her down Queen Street, past the excellent Forty Six coffee shop and the intriguing Thirtythree/45 second-hand vinyl record shop, that Edward planned to browse more fully another day. 

        He didn’t take Jill straight back to the train station as she expected.  Instead her took her into the Wetherspoons opposite, The David Protheroe, and bought her a large glass of wine.

        ‘I thought we should celebrate,’ he said.  ‘To our new business venture,’ he announced, raising his glass in toast.

        Jill just shook her head, but raised her glass and drank her wine too anyway.

        ‘Thanks for being so understanding, and indulging me,’ Edward said.