Eighteen Years
by Edward Kyle Stokes
Chapter 10
A Letter and a Phone Call.
The train journey back to Chester on Monday morning was peaceful, wrapped in the cozy afterglow of the perfect weekend. Aled sat with his head resting on Harry's shoulder, watching the English countryside blur past the window. For the first time since leaving the valley, the knot of anxiety in his stomach was completely gone. He felt secure. He had a family who accepted him, a boyfriend who loved him fiercely, and a safe, stable life waiting for him in Chester.
They arrived back at the flat in the early afternoon, carrying their weekend bags up the stairs while trading jokes about Harry's embarrassing childhood photos.
Harry turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. "Cal? We're back!" he called out.
There was no answer. The flat was uncharacteristically quiet, the curtains drawn against the afternoon sun.
"Maybe he's already at the pub setting up for the evening shift," Aled suggested, dropping his bag by the shoe rack.
"Yeah, probably," Harry muttered, walking into the kitchen to put the kettle on. But as he stepped inside, he stopped dead in his tracks. Sitting on the kitchen table was a single, neatly folded piece of paper with Harry & Aled written on the front in Callum's blocky handwriting. Next to it lay Callum's set of house keys.
Aled, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere, stepped into the kitchen. "Harry? What is it?"
Harry didn't speak. He picked up the note, unfolding it quickly. Aled leaned in closer, his eyes scanning the page as Harry read it aloud, his voice dropping into a stunned whisper.
Harry, Aled,
I'm sorry to do it like this, but if I waited until you got back, I wouldn't have had the guts to leave.
Aled, what happened last week made me realise a lot of things. Watching you bloom, watching you and Harry, it made me realise how much I've been hiding from my own life. I've been stuck in Chester, playing it safe at the pub, and hiding behind other people's happiness. Seeing how brave you were to leave the valley made me understand I need to be brave too.
I called my dad. We haven't spoken in three years, but we talked for an hour. He offered me a place to stay with him in Edinburgh, and a chance to finally go back to university to finish my degree. I packed my bags this morning.
Harry, you're the best mate a guy could ask for. Keep holding down the fort. Aled, keep blooming. Ian already found a new rugby mate to cover my shifts.
Thank you for everything. — Callum
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Aled stared at the bunch of keys on the table, a sudden wave of shock washing over him. Callum was gone. The third pillar of their little sanctuary, the guy who had given them a home and kept them grounded, had vanished into the Scottish night while they were away. But before the reality of Callum's departure could fully set in, Aled's phone began to vibrate violently in his pocket. He pulled it out, his brow furrowing as he looked at the screen. "It's an unknown number," he muttered, pressing the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
Harry watched Aled's face. In the span of five seconds, the colour completely drained from his cheeks. His jaw went slack, and his grip on the phone tightened so hard his knuckles turned white.
"What?" Aled breathed, his voice cracking. "When? Which hospital?"
Harry's breath hitched. He took a step toward Aled, his hands hovering in the air. "Aled? What's wrong? Has something happened?"
Aled lowered the phone slowly, looking at Harry with wide, terrified eyes. The phone slipped from his hand, clattering loudly against the lino floor.
"Aled, talk to me!" Harry pleaded, panic piercing through him.
"That... that was a hospital in North Wales," Aled stammered, his chest heaving as he tried to find his voice. "Harry... there was a massive accident at the farm. A tractor overturned in the lower meadow. My brother Iwan... he's in intensive care. But my dad..." Aled swallowed hard, tears welling in his eyes. "He didn't make it. Harry... he's gone, my dad is dead."
The world seemed to tilt on its axis.
In the span of five minutes, the carefully constructed safety of Aled's new life had completely shattered. Callum was gone, the farm was in ruins, and the father he had walked away from just a week ago was gone forever. Aled stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, the echoes of his new life fading away as the shadows of the valley violently dragged him back.
Harry's immediate instinct was to protect Aled. He dropped to his knees as Aled collapsed onto a chair, completely overwhelmed and shaking from the sheer, violent whiplash of the news. Harry pulled him tightly into his arms, burying his face in Aled's curls, holding him flat against his chest as the silent, racking sobs tore through the younger boy. He didn't say any empty platitudes; he just held him, supporting him, until the tremors slowly subsided and Aled's breathing steadied into a hollow, exhausted calm.
Gently guiding Aled he picked him up in his arms and carried him through to the living room, carefully depositing him on the sofa where he leant back against the cushions, Harry went back into the kitchen, his own hands shaking slightly as he brewed a strong, sweet mug of tea. He returned and placed it in Aled's hands, ensuring he took a few sips before pulling out his phone.
His first call was to Callum.
The phone rang for a long time before Callum finally picked up, his voice heavy with guilt. "Harry, look, I'm sorry about the note—"
"Cal, shut up and listen to me," Harry interrupted, his voice thick but resolute. "I don't care about the note right now. Something terrible has happened. Aled's dad is dead. A tractor overturned at the farm, and his brother Iwan is in intensive care. We're completely spinning out here."
There was a sharp, stunned gasp on the other end of the line. "Oh my God... Harry, no. Is Aled alright?"
"He's in shock," Harry said, pacing up and down. "Look, Cal, I know you need to be in Edinburgh. I know you need to patch things up with your dad, and you absolutely should do that. Take the next few weeks. Spend time with him. But please... we need you. Aled needs you. Don't throw away the whole summer. Once you've sorted things out up there, come back to Chester. Help us hold this place together until September. Please."
There was a long silence on the line as Callum processed the gravity of the situation. Finally, his voice came through, steady and fierce with loyalty. "Okay. Okay, Harry. I'll come back after I see my dad, and sort things out. Give me a couple of days. Tell Aled I'm so sorry, and tell him I'm coming back."
Relief washed over Harry. "Thanks, mate. Safe travels."
Next, Harry dialed the owner of the pub. He explained the sudden, tragic emergency with absolute clarity, ensuring the owner knew that they wouldn't be leaving him in the lurch. He explained that Callum's departure was temporary, that Ian's rugby mate was already lined up to cover the immediate shifts, and promised that between the remaining staff, the pub wouldn't be short-handed for the busy summer rush. The owner, deeply shocked by the news, was incredibly understanding, telling Harry to take all the time they needed to sort out the family crisis.
Aled stared directly at Harry as he finished the tea. "Harry, I have to go back."
Harry nodded, "I know."
Finally, Harry made the hardest call of all. He dialed the number for the farm, to talk to Gwilym. Aled watched from the sofa, his eyes hollow but focused, tracking Harry's movements as the call connected, listening to half the conversation
"Gwilym? It's Harry, Aled's boyfriend," Harry said, his voice dropping into a respectful, somber tone. "The hospital called us... Yes... we know about the accident, and we know about Iwan and your dad. I'm terribly sorry... He's in shock... He'll talk to you later... Of course... We're coming."
Harry was standing next to Aled, he looked down at the distraught boy on the sofa as Aled reached out with his arm to take hold of Harry. At that moment it seemed to him that Harry was the only solid thing left in his life.
There was what seemed like a long silence. "Listen, Gwilym, Aled is coming back. We're packing a bag now. He'll be at the hospital in Bangor to see his brother, and then... then he's coming to the farm."
Harry turned to Aled once again and it was as though they spoke a private language where no words were needed to understand each other.
"He will help you to keep things running... " Harry paused, looking to Aled, "until Iwan recovers. I'm coming with him."
Sitting on the sofa, Aled felt the finality of the words settle over him. The valley was calling him back, not as a victim this time, but as the only one left to pick up the pieces. He looked at Harry, the man who had given him everything, and slowly, resolutely, Aled nodded his head in agreement. He was ready to face it.
The transition back to the valley was surreal, wrapped in the damp, heavy silence of the North Wales hills. Gwilym was neither overly welcoming nor overtly hostile when Aled stepped back onto the property; he was simply a tired, stoic farmer crushed under the sudden weight of tragedy. He accepted Aled's arrival with a reluctant nod of relief. Running a sheep farm alone after his father's sudden death was an impossible task, and having his younger brother there to shoulder the physical labour was necessary to keep the farm afloat.
The next few days blurred into a relentless routine of grit, grief, and long distances.
Every afternoon, after the morning chores were finished, Aled took his bike and rode to the hospital in Bangor to visit Iwan. His brother was still hooked-up to monitors in intensive care, his body battered from the overturned tractor. Sitting by the sterile hospital bed, holding Iwan's unresponsive hand, Aled felt a strange, quiet shift inside himself. The terrifying brother who had once intimidated him now looked fragile, and Aled found a deep, protective strength he didn't know he possessed.
Back on the farm, Aled and Gwilym fell into a quiet, working rhythm. There were no emotional outbursts or deep discussions about the past. Instead, they communicated in the shared language of the land—brief nods whilst working together, short directives about what needed doing, and quiet dinners eaten in the heavy silence of the farmhouse kitchen. Gwilym was distant, but he respected the way Aled didn't shrink from the hard work.
The only thing keeping Aled in his new life between hospital and farm, were his daily phone calls with Harry. Every night, after Gwilym had gone to sleep, Aled would sit on the stone wall outside the house, looking up at the vast, starry sky, and listen to Harry's voice. They talked about everything—the hospital updates, the sheep, and how much they missed the warmth of their bed, about the pub, about London, about everything. Harry was his lifeline, reminding him every single night that this return to the valley was temporary.
Back in Chester, the dynamics were shifting just as rapidly. On Thursday afternoon, the front door of the flat clicked open, and Callum walked in. True to his word, he had returned early from Edinburgh. He looked older, his shoulders broader, carrying the quiet peace of a man who had finally faced his own past and patched things up with his father.
With Aled over in Wales, Callum and Harry found themselves alone in the flat for the first time. The initial evening was quiet, a respectful acknowledgment of the tragedy hanging over them, but the deep, unspoken bond of their friendship quickly reasserted itself. They sat up late in the living room, drinking beer and talking through the logistics of the summer. There was no awkwardness about the past; the soft kiss outside the front door had completely dissolved into a fierce, mutual desire to protect Aled.
By Friday, the two of them were back behind the bar at the pub, working long back-to-back shifts to cover the busy summer rush. Between Callum's sharp efficiency and Harry's easy charm, they kept the crowded terrace running flawlessly. As they slammed down pints, wiped down tables, and coordinated with Ian's rugby mate, Harry and Callum operated like a perfectly oiled machine—two halves of a protective shield, holding down the fort in Chester while Aled fought to piece his family back together in the hills.
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