To Find My Way Home

Cosy slowburn fantasy / historical fantasy / portal fantasy Finally free to set off on her travels, Rosa was hopeful the Veil, and therefore possibly, the way back to her home, was known by tribal folk from other lands. In the aftermath of the war, not all the places she’d planned to visit would be accessible, so she had to adapt. Rosa spends many years travelling from place to place, and again gets tantalising hints of the other side of the Veil, plus indications the Veil, may be reforming, but her journey is more difficult than she could ever have imagined. She’s kidnapped a number of times, sold once and even falls deathly sick on one occasion. Her dear friend Wayne Edwards comes to the rescue each time she gets herself into trouble. But it’s not all bad, she meets some inspiring people, indeed, takes a number of lovers, works in many diverse environments, and in the end, just as she’s at the point of giving up, her life takes an unexpected turn.

Chapter 1 – The Black Mountains May 1948: Rosa’s trip back to Plymouth filled her with trepidation. When she was last there, the local’s had turned against her, thanks to John Belmont. He was her friend Ann’s son who, for reasons too complicated for her to concern herself with now, had besmirched her name, making folk believe she was somehow to blame for Ann’s untimely death from a heart attack. Once off the train she headed straight into town, and to the office of Brooks & Collins, her solicitor. Here she made arrangements for her house to be rented out. Simon Collins Sr. tried to persuade her not to go on her trip, saying it was far too dangerous for anyone so soon after the war, let alone a woman travelling by herself. She’d smiled politely, handed over the keys, and finalised her instructions, having decided not to go to her house at all, where the neighbours may still be unfriendly. After a night in the Grosvenor Hotel, Rosa left Plymouth unaware it would be so very many years before her return. ***** Rosa had always planned her first stop would be The Black Mountains in Wales, so she set off for her final drive in her lovely old Vauxhall Cadet. It was an easy journey as far as Bristol – or Caer Odor, the equivalent town on the other side of the Veil – but from there she struggled to figure out the correct road to take, it all looked so different this side of the Veil. She wasn’t sure if Bronwyn’s Glen even had a matching village on this side, but that’s where she needed to get to in order to start her hike into the mountains. She worked her way north, then west to Abergavenny, then along some narrow back roads and tracks looking out for something familiar in the landscape. After a frustrating couple of hours, Rosa came across a local hill farmer. He spoke no English, so she slipped on her sunglasses to hide her brightening eyes and brought forth her natural talent for languages. Fortunately, she already had Welsh in her repertoire. “Good day sir. Could you direct me to the main route into the Black Mountains please?” Rosa asked. The farmer narrowed his gaze, taking in her fancy car, then staring right at her bespectacled eyes, and squinting whilst tipping his head slightly in all directions. Damn, the light must be spilling out around the sunglasses, Rosa concluded. She raised her hand to her forehead as if shading out the sunlight, though, in truth, it was quite a cloudy day. “Sir?” “Hmm, well, there’s a field you can park in about two miles or so up that track,” he pointed vaguely to a muddy, rutted track behind him. “You’ll have to walk from there. Hope you got some boots Mrs. You know they’re not really mountains of course, just hills?” That didn’t fit in with Rosa’s memory at all, but then there were quite a few, normally more minor, differences in terrain between the two sides of the Veil. She wondered if Florrie’s cave even existed here. She’d know exactly where to go if she could find that. “Can you tell me please, is there a cave, by a little stream on the edge of the foothills?” Curiosity, and perhaps a touch of suspicion burned in the farmer’s expression. “I know the one you mean. If you follow the stream at the bottom of the field, you can’t miss it. But if you don’t mind me asking, what would a fine city lady such as yourself want with finding such a place? It’s harsh ground up there, you could trip and break a leg, and it could be days before anyone finds you.” “Thank you. I’ll be careful.” The farmer waved his arm in the opposite direction. “That’s my place over there. When you come back down from the hills, you just come and let me know you’re back, otherwise I’ll have to come looking to make sure you haven’t hurt yourself.” Rosa was about to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but thought better of it. He was being kind, despite his trepidation, and it was altogether possible that she could trip and hurt herself. “Thank you. I will. My name’s Rosa, by the way. I appreciate your help.” The farmer nodded his acknowledgment. “Emrys Jones is my name.” Rosa took an involuntary step back. A shiver ran down her spine as memories of another Emrys, a Brythona tribe leader, came flooding to the forefront of her mind. She quickly gathered her wits at the surprised look on Emrys’ face. “I’ll be back before dark,” she assured him as she hurried to her car. Rosa drove as carefully as she could, concerned for her car’s suspension, as she bumped along the rough track. She could see Emrys staring after her in her rear-view mirror. The field was overgrown, but that was good, less chance of getting stuck in the mud when she got back. Pulling on her walking boots plus her thick coat, gloves, scarf and hat against the unseasonal chill, she grabbed the rucksack with her flask of tea and headed out along the stream edge. It was difficult footing, but she could clearly see the Black Mountain hills ahead as she made her way tentatively along, and felt encouraged that the stream, at least, wound along in a reasonably familiar way. After about an hour and a half, Rosa came round a bend and came suddenly upon the cave. She stood for a while gazing at the entrance, chewing on her bottom lip. It was exactly as she remembered, right down to the large, flat rock where the Brythona shaman sat on their first meeting. A tear rolled down Rosa’s cheek as she was bombarded with memories of those days on the other side of the Veil. She’d been just a young child, so very long ago, but in her mind’s eye she could picture Florrie sitting by her cookfire, and Hound bouncing around, happily trying to catch raindrops. That made her laugh out loud as she dropped to her knees and flung her arms wide – as if Hound would run to her as he used to do. Slowly the poignant memories receded and Rosa’s current situation pressed in on her. If she was to find her way to that same spot where the Brythona village stood, but on the other side of the Veil, spend a bit of time there, hoping to feel some kind of connection, and get back to her car before dark, then she needed to get her skates on. She wished now she’d brought camping gear so she could spend a night in the cave and give herself more time. But deep down, she didn’t have high hopes for finding anything. Rosa followed the familiar line of hills to the valley. She stood by a series of mini waterfalls hardly able to believe she’d found it so easily. The Brythona village had been spread out on either side of the stream. Where the bottom waterfall dropped, the villagers had widened the edges to form a large pond where they raised fish, watercress and water mint. But here in the Black Mountains, the stream flowed unhindered, so things looked quite different, but there was no question in Rosa’s mind this was this right place. There was no sign of habitation on this side of the Veil, but she’d not expected there to be. Perching on a rock on the opposite bank, roughly where she thought the shaman’s cottage would be on the other side, Rosa waited, contemplated, and even tried meditating. Briefly she thought she heard distant sounds, like music, but not quite – and maybe she felt a slight dizzying tingle in her chest and stomach – but was it all just wishful thinking? Her heart wrenched as, once more, the memories came flooding back. Rosa wandered around, laid hands on trees, rocks and the bare ground, until after what must have been an hour and a half or so, she checked her watch and decided it was time to head back to her car. Unsure whether she should have given it more time, Rosa concluded that she could hang around there for a year, and still get nothing. It was time to stop stalling and get on with her journey. She needed the help of the wise, this empty hillside held nothing for her, so stopping briefly at the farmhouse to reassure Emrys Jones she was safe, she headed to Exeter where a buyer awaited her car.