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found the answer.
    Folk in the Welsh Valleys were prone to gossip. Call it a trait of the Welsh. Or maybe it was something to do with the geographical narrowness of the valleys, of the limitation of an area so sealed in by mountains that there was only one road in. And that too was the road out. But, chin up, defiantly Megan had returned from Italy with Guido in tow fully aware that she would be the subject of this gossip. She already knew every row or kiss, quarrel or hug would be the focus of much attention. Maybe the locals had sensed that all was not perfectly right with Guido long before she had, not blinded by romantic love as she had been but guided to trouble by their antennae. But even very early on, soon after their marriage, their sideways glances had been laden with malice. They had wanted her to look foolish. Most of her class chums from the comprehensive had married and had families quickly and had watched her very public exit to Medical School with a tinge of envy. The valleys loved their successes. Butthey watched them too for signs of it “going to their heads”. And when Megan had dumped Alun it had been seen as a sign that she had been too ready to shed her roots. This was considered a bad thing. Her return as a qualified doctor had puzzled them. Why here, she could almost hear them question. She could have gone anywhere - the world. Why come back? The answer that they could not work out for themselves was that she loved the valleys. She belonged here. And she wanted to give something back to its inhabitants. Bringing Guido to Llancloudy had alienated her from the locals - as she had known it would. Her early ecstatic happiness had made them shake their heads. And wait.
    Only Bianca, hesitating one day, after a long, pointless and difficult consultation, had pressed her hand, looked at her with penetrating sincerity and wished her happines. Staring back into the powdered face with its brilliant red lipstick curved into a clown’s smile, Megan had been touched beyond belief.
    Now she remembered that day vividly. No one, not even her parents who now refused to even mention Guido’s name, had really, truly, wished her luck from the bottom of their hearts. For that she owed Bianca.
     
    She paused outside the gateway to the Bethesda chapel then pushed open the gate. It was a small building of grey stone with brown paintwork and arched windows. A modest building, like most of the Welsh chapels, remnants of the old country. There were still plenty of those, the rows of terraced miners’ cottages, derelict mine workings, slag heaps and chapels with Biblical names: Bethesda, Hebron, Carmel, Tabernacle. The geographical narrowness was unavoidable. But today there was a forward looking hope and vibrancy that had been absentfrom the Wales of her childhood. It lifted her heart as she pushed open the gate.
    She suddenly realised she was very happy and very hungry.
    A cloud that seemed to have sprung from nowhere blacked out the sun temporarily but she refused to let it influence her intention and rediscovered direction. She would eat here again. Alone. Guido’s final humiliating indiscretion would not prevent her doing things she enjoyed - just because she had once done them with him.
    But the elements conspired against her. The cloud burst. Heavy rain splashed onto her arms and face. The darkness now seemed to encompass the entire sky. She was forced to shelter inside the doorway.
    No reading tombstones today.
    The food tasted good. Salty, smoked bacon, a hard boiled egg. Fresh brown bread. Meggie realised how much even the small enjoyment of eating had diminished in the last eight months. Since Christmas time. Guido’s seasonal indulgence had been the last straw.
    She must stop thinking about him. She had a new life now. One without him. A new home. She was still youngish. But it was hard to keep her head up. It had been a public humiliation. She, the pin-up of the sixth form, dumped in favour of a man. The