Paint!

By Angharad Tomos

This novel for young people consists of a fictional first person narrative by Robat - a typical 11-12 year old pupil at Segontium School in Caernarfon in 1969, the year of Prince Charles's visit to the Aberystwyth Urdd Eisteddfod and his investiture as Prince of Wales at Caernarfon Castle - as well as the first moon landing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gwasg Carreg Gwalch
• Release date: Apr 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9781845244675

Angharad Tomos

Angharad Tomos yn llenor ac ymgyrchydd iaith adnabyddus. Enillodd hi Fedal Lenyddiaeth Eisteddfod yr Urdd ddwywaith yn yr 80au, Medal Ryddiaith yr Eisteddfod Genedlaethol ddwywaith yn y 90au, a Gwobr Tir na n-Og ddwywaith yn ogystal. Mae hi’n ysgrifennu a darlunio llyfrau i blant ac mae ei chyfres Rwdlan wedi bod yn difyrru plant ers yr 80au a chafodd ei haddasu i’r teledu yn y 90au.

Book preview

PaInt!

A novel by

Angharad Tomos

Translated into English by Jane Burnard

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Gwasg Carreg Gwalch

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First published in Welsh, Paent!, 2015

Published in English: 2022

© text: Angharad Tomos/Carreg Gwalch, 2022

© illustrations: Angharad and Hedydd, 2015

© English translation: Jane Burnard

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,  without prior permission of the authors of the works herein.

ISBN: 978-1-84527-843-4

ebook ISBN: 978-1-84524-467-5

Published with the financial support of the Books Council of Wales

Book and cover design: Eleri Owen

Published by Gwasg Carreg Gwalch, 12 Iard yr Orsaf, Llanrwst, Dyffryn Conwy, Wales LL26 0EH.

tel: [phone]

email: [e-mail]

website: www.carreg-gwalch.cymru

Printed and published in Wales

Old images of Caernarfon: Gwynedd Archives, Mair Lloyd Davies

Photographs from Geoff Charles’ collection:

 DigiDo Project, The National Library of Wales

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For Emrys and everyone who wants to see a free Wales

Hiya

This is a story from 1969. I told it in Welsh first and it’s been translated into English for those who cannot read it in Welsh.

In this story, conversation is mainly in Welsh. To show when people are speaking English, I’ve used a blue pen, like this. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.

Robat

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CHAPTER 1

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Ping!

A little paper ball shot across the classroom and hit Pritch on the ear. He turned and glared at me.

What do you think you’re playing at, boy? he said.

It wasn’t me, sir! And that was the truth. Yes, I had a rubber band on the desk, and yes, I was making balls of paper, but it wasn’t me who’d shot this one.

Any more nonsense from you, and you’ll be up before the Headmaster, he said, eyeing me narrowly, as if he wanted to kill me.

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We’ll continue with the lesson ... he went on, in English this time. Having conquered the Welsh prince, Edward the First went on to build his castle in Caernarvon, and presented his own son to the Welsh as the Prince of Wales.

He turned to write this on the blackboard and within seconds, another paper ball was speeding through the air and hitting the back of his head. I turned like a shot to see Morris, who was grinning slyly at me.

Right, that’s enough! Robert Aneurin, you had your warning – out you go to the Headmaster’s office, now!

I went crazy. But I didn’t do it!

He strode over and whacked my head with the history book.

You’re a liar, on top of everything else! he yelled. He’d gone completely bonkers now. Grabbing the rubber band from my desk, he thrust it under my nose.

Do you think I’m stupid, boy? Take this to the Headmaster and tell him what you’ve been up to with it.

So here I am, outside Big Ben’s office, staring at the door and trembling inside. All I can do is stare at his name on the door and wonder what punishment awaits me. Part of that punishment is keeping you waiting.

Teachers are horrible creatures.

Sorry, I haven’t told you who I am, have I? That was very careless of me. How can you read this without knowing who’s talking to you? I’m Robat. I hate my full name, Robert Aneurin Jones. Erm ... Yes, that’s me. I’ve gone all shy now, and I don’t know what else to say.

But a book without writing’s pretty boring, so I’m going to carry on with the story. I haven’t got much to say about myself – I haven’t lived long enough for anything interesting to have happened to me. I’m about the same age as you, so you’ll understand when I tell you that Real Life hasn’t happened yet, if you know what I mean.

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On this page, I’m going to make a list of things I like.

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Next, I’m going to draw a picture of a door for you:

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You have to make up your mind if you want to open the door or not. You can cut out around the door, and really open it, if you like. That’d be a good idea, but it would ruin the page. Anyway, it’s my front door. The door to Rhos yr Unman. Yes, that’s the name of our house. And it’s very hard to translate into English. Rhos means, like, a moor or a heath. And Unman means anywhere – anywhere, and also nowhere. Whatever, it makes sense in Welsh – you’ll just have to take my word for that.

Now you know what sort of place I live in. A nowhere/anywhere place where nothing happens. The name tells you that, but you have to actually live here to experience it. Everything exciting happens somewhere else. Far, far away from here. I don’t actually live on a moor or anything, that’s just the name of our house. It’s in Edward Street, in the town of Caernarfon, or just ‘Dre’ (Town) as Caernarfon people, the Cofis, call it. Oh, and I go to Segontium School. I’d draw you a picture of my dog, but I haven’t got one, so it looks like this:

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But if I did have a dog, this is how he’d look. He’d be a brown terrier, with eyes like melted toffee. I’ve even got a name for him – Rwtsh. That means Rubbish, but in a friendly sort of way.

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But he actually is a rubbish dog at the moment, because he doesn’t exist. I’ll get him one day though, and we’ll understand each other perfectly. He’ll never be annoyed with me, and he’ll always understand exactly how I’m feeling.

I’m looking forward to leaving home and living in my own house, and doing what I want. No one to bother me – just Rwtsh and me, living happily together. I’d live on chips and watch far too much television, and there’d be no one to tell us off.

I went up the top of the road today, after school. There I was, standing in front of the Clock Shop, in Twthill Square, and who should go by but Alys Mai. I pretended to look away, but she stopped right in front of me.

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What are you doing here? she asked.

I didn’t know what to say. My tongue felt like it was stuck in treacle.

Nothing, I said in the end. Better than admitting I was trying to avoid her.

And all the time she was looking at me with those eyes that melted my insides, and then my stupid tongue said the same thing again: Nothing.

Where d’you live?

Up there, I answered, and Alys Mai looked up at the clouds.

Up the street, I said. Edward Street.

Out for a walk, are you?

I dunno, said my tongue, and I wanted to swallow my words for sounding so stupid. Then I tried again. I just wanted some peace and quiet.

I’ll stop bothering you, then, she said, turning on her heel.

You nitwit! I thought to myself, turning my head to watch Alys Mai getting smaller and smaller in the distance. She’ll probably never speak to me again. She was only trying to be friendly. And, who knows, maybe if I’d said I was going for a walk, she might’ve come with me.

But if she had come with me, I wouldn’t have had a clue what to say to her, and that would’ve been awful. And I still go red when I think about her looking up at the clouds when I told her where I lived. Up there, my foot! As if I was an angel and could fly up into the air to get to Edward Street, of all places ...

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I’ve had enough of this chapter now, so I’m going to start another one. If you’re reading this as part of your homework, well done you for getting this far. I wouldn’t have.

CHAPTER 2

Sometimes I think school is the worst place in the world. Other times I think school’s the best place in the world. Our school’s called Segontium School, because the Romans were in our town ages ago, and that’s what they called Caernarfon. Looking at the