AMP: Artists' Meeting Place and Resource Collective

For earlier Chapters and an explanation of this dreadful story, see blog: The Cardiff Grandma. WARNING: This novel contains fake Welsh.
In the previous episode, skilled telephone work on the call girl's part reveals a connection to the CIA (Cardiff International Airport)...Probably.

The Cardiff Grandma Chapter 3b

Ddwwchllyff, who up until that point had been so animated, suddenly became badly drawn. The call girl couldn’t help but notice this rapid change in her employer’s mood. Miss Cassleberry wasn’t paid to notice things. She was paid to dial numbers, pass on messages and forget whatever she may have been party to. That was the only way to keep your job in her line of business. No, with her noticing things was purely a hobby. A dangerous one at that.

To try and cover his unease Ddwwchyllff made a half-hearted attempt at small talk. “Microchip technology Miss Cassleberry, incredible isn’t?”

She wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at but decided it would be best to play dumb. She smiled sweetly, “Umm”.

As he picked his way along the gravel covered driveway of Ddwwchyllff’s house Wolfcastle kept replaying Ddwwchyllff’s earlier remark. ‘We used to stand against something once too’ – that was it wasn’t it? Wolfcastle’s memory, like the cold night that he sough refuge from, had become blurred with fog. The visit was meant to provide Wolfcastle with some answers. It had only ended up generating more questions. Just who did Ddwwchyllff know that had been to Quito? How much, if anything did he know about the Awful BusinessTM. Was his old friend really involved? Why was he having a call girl call round at this hour? The only thing Wolfcastle knew for sure was that if Ddwwchyllff was buying Red leather Italian shoes like they were going out of fashion he was already to late.

Reaching his Lada C class Wolfcastle tapped the outside of his jacket pocket for the encouraging bulge of his key fob. He fingered the remote and the central locking mechanism responded with a reassuring click and the blinking of the cars side lights.

He mulled over the misted remains of the earlier conversation as he got into the car: they had stood against something, that much was true. But that was a long time ago. He was different now, he’d changed. Not just older with more gray hairs and wrinkles – something inside of him had altered. And Ddwwchyllff - Ddwwchyllff had changed too, he used to be taller for one thing.

Turning the ignition, Wolfcastle roused the Lada C class into life. Though still annoyed at not being able to get anything from Ddwwchllyff, Wolfcastle was determined to salvage something from the night. In his world it was still early. While most people were tucked up snuggly in their beds Wolfcastle, despite the icy fog all around him, was just getting warmed up. Before too long, he hoped, the Lada’s heater would be doing to same.

Pulling out of Ddwwchyllff’s driveway he pulled the steering wheel hard left, the car lurched in a similar direction and headed back towards town.

(to be continued)