The Heirs of Owain Glyndwr (12 page)

23

Thursday 24 July 1969

‘Have you heard anything
more about Harri? Are they going to let me see him?'

The words were spoken quietly but urgently, and they were the first she spoke as they entered the conference room in Holloway Prison.

‘He's very well, Arianwen,' Eifion assured her. ‘He is with a very good foster family, and we are doing our best to bring him to visit you. I don't have any news today, but I have brought your family barrister, Jess Farrar, who is going to be working with us.'

Jess stepped forward and shook Arianwen's hand.

‘Thank you,' Arianwen said.

‘I'm going to do everything I can,' Jess replied.

‘Arianwen, this is Barratt Davis, my friend who is a solicitor here in London. You remember I said last time we met, I thought it would be better to have a local solicitor and barrister?'

‘Yes. But you will still be involved, Eifion, won't you? You understand my anxiety about Harri, and that means so much to me.'

‘Of course I will. I will be involved for as long as it all takes. But Mr Davis will be in charge of things for the trial.'

She shook his hand. ‘Thank you, Mr Davis.'

‘It's my privilege,' Barratt replied. ‘And please call me Barratt. This is Ben Schroeder, the barrister who will be representing you in the criminal trial.'

As he shook her hand, Ben took in the tall, gaunt figure. She must have lost weight since her arrest, he thought. She looked unnaturally thin, and her brown and white, ankle-length Indian cotton dress hung about her frame too loosely. Her long hair was untidy, as if it had been combed hurriedly and indifferently just before they arrived. But it was the eyes he noticed most. They looked haunted, as if she really were, as Eifion had said, heart-broken. But at the same time, behind the heartbreak, he saw just a flash of resolve and a sense of dignity that had not deserted her. She was still ready to fight. The eyes also had another effect on him, a far more personal one. For a moment he could not catch his breath, and he could not look away. By the time he did, he knew something had changed. In the space of a few seconds she had changed for him. She was not just another client. He felt an irrational determination, an intense desire to save her, whatever the cost. The feeling took him by surprise, and he could not immediately understand it.

They took their seats around the small table, crowded together in the small conference room with its harsh fluorescent lighting, with a watchful prison guard prowling up and down in the corridor outside, and peering in through the glass panel in the door from time to time to remind them of her presence.

‘We've received a copy of the statement under caution you made to the police,' Ben said. He produced a copy of the statement from his briefcase and perused it slowly. ‘You say that you knew nothing about what was going on. Dafydd Prosser – Dai Bach – phoned you and asked you to drive him to Bangor. He told you a story about having to collect some personal belongings because he was going to stay with a friend. You drive him there, he picks up his suitcase, as you believed it was, from the garage. You drive him back to the square. But then your brother Caradog appears unexpectedly. You see what is really in the boot of your car, and you are arrested. Will that be the evidence you give if I call you at the trial?'

‘Yes. That's the truth.'

Ben nodded.

‘Arianwen – may we use first names…?'

‘Yes, of course.'

‘Arianwen, I'm going to play devil's advocate for a moment. Do you know what I mean?'

‘Yes, I think so.'

‘I'm going to look at it from the prosecution's point of view, because that is what you are going to hear when you are cross-examined.'

‘All right.'

‘The first question is this. This plan to make a bomb and place it in the Castle wasn't hatched overnight, was it? It must have taken a considerable time. They had to decide that they were going to do it. That alone…do you see? Then, somehow, they had to work out how to actually make a bomb. They had no prior experience of doing anything like this. They needed a workshop, they needed the materials, and they needed assembly instructions. Then they had to decide how to get the bomb into the Castle at the right time, and put it somewhere they had some hope it would not be discovered.'

‘Yes.'

She was starting to cry.

‘I'm sorry. You must forgive me. I keep thinking about Harri.'

‘I understand,' Ben said. ‘But we have to talk about your trial.'

‘I know. It's just that I still can't believe any of this is happening.'

She put her head down on the table. Jess reached across to take her hand.

‘Arianwen, we all want to help you get Harri back. That's why we're here. We are going to do whatever it takes. But we can't get him back for you if you go to prison, so first we have to make sure that doesn't happen. We have to make sure you are found not guilty. That's why we have to talk about this now. I know it's hard, but we do.'

‘I know. I will do my best.'

‘All right,' Ben said. ‘Let us know if you need to take a break for a minute.'

‘Thank you.'

Ben allowed some time to pass. Eventually she lifted her head and returned her attention to him.

‘I was saying that it must have taken them quite some time to plan what they were going to do to disrupt the Investiture. You were close to all three men. Trevor most of all, of course. You were married to him, and living with him. But you were also close to your brother Caradog, and I imagine you saw quite a bit of Dai Bach. So the question the jury will have is…'

‘How could I not have known?' she smiled through her tears.

‘Exactly.'

‘I ask myself that question every day.'

She stood and walked over to lean against the wall to the left of the door, away from the prying eyes of the prison officer.

‘Looking back now,' she said, ‘I even question myself. How could I not know? But I didn't. I've known Caradog all my life, and it doesn't make any sense to me to think of him carrying a bomb which could kill or maim people. That's not the Caradog I know. He is a gentle man, a kind and gentle man. If you knew him… it just doesn't make sense. He lives in a world of his own, yes, but it's a world of ideas, a world of books. He likes to keep himself to himself, and he likes to sit around reading, or thinking, or brooding. But violence? This kind of violence, especially, I just can't picture in him. He is an intellectual, a dreamer, but he's not an anarchist. It's not possible. There are days when I am convinced it is all a bad dream, and I'm going to wake up and find that everything is normal again. I have to think that. It just doesn't make any sense.'

‘He
is
a nationalist,' Ben pointed out.

‘We are
all
nationalists,' she replied, ‘me, Trevor, Caradog, Dai Bach. We vote Plaid Cymru and we work for the Party. We go to demonstrations. But those are just political activities. I know there are some people on the fringes of the Party who are capable of violence, but none of us ever had anything to do with them. Caradog in particular would have nothing to do with them. He had nothing but scorn for them.'

Ben thought for some time.

‘Well, something led him to do what he did. Could anything have shifted for him? Did you see any change in him over the years, however slight it might have seemed at the time?'

‘If there was a change,' she replied, ‘it would have been at the time of the flooding of the Tryweryn Valley. We fought the Government for years over that. I don't know whether you remember. They flooded an entire valley and destroyed a village called Capel Celyn, just to provide more water for Liverpool. It wasn't right. It was a huge injustice to Wales. We went to all the demos, wrote letter after letter to our MP, letters to the newspapers. We did everything we could. We held it up for a long time. But of course, it didn't stop them in the end. Nothing ever does. I did sense a hardening in Caradog at that time. Our family owned land there, a house, you see. But I still can't believe it's come to this.'

She hesitated.

‘The Tryweryn Valley was where our family came from originally, you see, generations ago. Our great grandparents were the last in our immediate family to own land and live there. Their home was in Capel Celyn. So both Caradog and I had a particular attachment to the area, and it was very hard for us when we lost that fight. We had relatives who had to move when the fight was finally over. It's possible that Caradog changed then, but to me, it just seemed that he stayed lost in his own private world even more than usual. Perhaps he was covering up the hurt, and didn't know how to deal with it. Perhaps if he could have talked to me about it… I don't know.'

There was silence for some time.

‘What about Dai Bach?' Ben asked.

She laughed.

‘Dai Bach is totally different from Caradog. He's a clever enough man. He is a chemistry teacher, after all. But he's not an intellectual in the sense Caradog is. He's not a philosopher. He admires those qualities in Caradog. He looks up to him, almost like an elder brother. Actually, it's more than that. He is like Caradog's puppy dog in a way, following him around, hanging on his every word. But still, he has his own life. He enjoys people; he's a complete extrovert, and he can be very funny.'

‘Would he be likely to do whatever Caradog asked of him?'

‘In general, perhaps. But I can't see him doing something like this.'

‘Is he capable of violence?'

She shook her head.

‘He is quite impulsive. We have had to pull him back from the front line at demos a few times for his own safety. If you told me that he threw a placard at a police officer at a demo, or if you told me that he had a few pints after an international at Cardiff Arms Park and punched some English rugby supporter, I would believe you. I can see him doing that. But making a bomb to kill or injure people? No.'

‘What about Trevor?' Ben asked.

She began to cry. Jess again reached over and took her hand. They waited for her to compose herself.

‘Trevor came into my life unexpectedly when he bought the
Tywysog
. It was one of those things that happen. I think we both knew straight away. There was something between us – an understanding. He was very gradual with me. He came to the house for dinner. He took me out. He was interested in my music, which no one in the family ever was, much. He would sit and listen to me play the cello – for hours, sometimes. He found concerts to take me to, and there are not all that many near Caernarfon – not classical concerts. And when we agreed to marry, it was the most natural thing in the world. I never questioned it at all. He is a wonderful husband, and he loves Harri just as much as I do. He adores him.'

She cried again. Ben sat back, pen in hand, and allowed her time.

‘Arianwen, do you have any idea why the police haven't been able to find him? Do you know where he might be? Whatever you tell us here is privileged. We can't tell anyone. But it is something that's bound to come up during the trial, and we have to give the jury a believable answer.'

She shook her head.

‘Dai Bach told me that Trevor was supposed to take him to Bangor and bring him back to the
Maes
. It was because Trevor didn't show up that he called me. Trevor told me that he was going to the
Maes
earlier in the evening to join in the last demo before the Investiture. Caradog wouldn't be there because he was working at the Castle, but he was expecting to see Dai Bach. No one thought the demo would last very long – a lot of people had decided to protest by leaving town – and then I was expecting him home. I didn't go with him that evening because I didn't want to take Harri and I had no one to look after him, so I stayed home.'

‘Were you worried when Dai Bach called?'

‘Not really. I thought it was a bit odd if he had forgotten, because Trevor doesn't forget things like that. But I assumed he had met someone and gone for a couple of pints. Dai Bach sounded a bit anxious and it was getting late, so I thought the easiest thing was to drive him myself.'

‘And you didn't think it was strange that you were taken to a garage rather than Dai Bach's house?'

‘It seems strange looking back now, I suppose, but at the time, no. He said he had rented the garage for storage, and I didn't think anything of it.'

Ben finished the note he was making.

‘I know this isn't easy, but how do you feel now about Trevor being gone when you have to face trial?'

She cried again.

‘I know there is some simple, logical explanation. If I could just sit down and talk to him, I am sure it would make sense.'

‘I take it that it's not the kind of thing you would expect him to do – to run out on you, I mean?'

‘No. No. We have always been so close. I suppose he must be afraid about getting into trouble himself. He would be prosecuted if the police arrested him, wouldn't he?'

‘Yes.'

‘So, I think that must be it. He's afraid of being prosecuted, even though I'm sure he couldn't have had anything to do with it.'

Ben allowed some time to pass.

‘Arianwen, is there anything about Trevor at all that makes you think he might have been involved?'

‘Such as what?'

‘I don't know. Anything. You must feel you know him very well by now. Is there anything that strikes you as odd now, even if it is only with the benefit of hindsight?'

She considered.

‘The only thing that ever struck me as strange about Trevor is that he has never talked about his family very much. He told me that both his parents died long before we met, and he is an only child, so perhaps there wasn't very much to talk about. He didn't invite any family or friends to our wedding, but then, it was a very quiet affair – we both wanted it that way. I always had the feeling that when he came to Caernarfon, he was deliberately putting his past in London behind him. But I assumed that he was just tired of working too hard at Foyles, and he mentioned a relationship with a woman that hadn't ended well, so I didn't press him. I was just glad that he had come into my life, and I am sure he felt the same way.'