I was sat in the Churchyard on the bench by the Porch door when I fell into conversation with a very Welsh couple from Babell.
I explained just why Winnie and Mary was with me and informed them that like minded Trelawnyd-ites were going to bring their dogs to the churchyard in protest to the new signage..they nodded in that solemn way many older Welsh people do when they are being polite but uninterested .
They wanted to know who looked after the new cemetery as it was so tidy and as they droned on a memory popped into my mind out of nowhere.
A silly memory of a childhood pet tortoise called Achilles.
You could buy tortoises from pet shops then when I was eleven
And I bought a lovely one with black button eyes
I'd only had it for 24 hours when our fat family Dalmatian called Tina, who had taken a sudden dislike of everything reptilian, ripped its head off after a prolonged bout of chewing.
My father, who was incredibly weak where gore was involved, came across Achilles' corpse whilst out with the petrol mower and the whole bloody mess was too much for him and he fainted clean away .
My mother found him slumped next to Achilles' body when she went out to investigate why the mower was roaring away in the privet hedge.
Funny what you remember
