We changed the subject by unspoken but mutual agreement, and concentrated on planning for the barbie, Maz being very, very clear that it mustn’t be overloaded with our friends.

“We should have the Butts, partly for cooking, but then there’s Dal. He’s the audio-visual whiz. The rest have to be from our boy’s circle, rather than it just being us and ours. Our boy has his own crowd, and they’re the ones this is aimed at, not Ronnie or Chad or the rest”

She was right, of course, and in the end, I left it to my wife to sort out the warm end of things while I steered the wet and grey one. I left it to Ish to do the negotiations with the Cardiff crew, though.

It was one of those delightful Perth evenings in the end, the Doctor having blown through just enough to bring the temperature down to a comfortable warmth as the barbie was hitting its full sizzle, and the first local guests arriving. Dal had managed to source a very big screen from his college, while LC had insisted that the family climbing wall was to be her domain for the evening. We had three, count them, three electric eskies filled with cold drinks, as well as the fridge, and as our boy’s guests moved into double figures, we got our first video link. LC spotted it first, with a squeal of “ENFYS!”. I turned to the screen, as Dal fiddled with the camera, and was surprised not to see the Hiatt’s living room but a sort of sun or picnic terrace, and for once, the Welsh concept of ‘sun’ actually appeared to be rather closer to our Australian version than was usual, in that it wasn’t coming through rain. Enfys and Alys were sitting in frame, both grinning happily, Enfys waving at the view behind her.

“The classic view, people! Cwm Dyli!”

Ish called out a greeting, followed by the obligatory “Where’s the rain?”, before introducing the two women to his own group.

“These are two of our friends in North Wales, Enfys and Alys”

One of the young lads called out, “Which one’s yours, Ish?”

“Neither, mate. They’re in NORTH Wales, and Clara lives in the South”

I had half-expected a comment along the lines of ‘They’re a couple’, but Ish had impressed me with his tact.

“That view, it’s their highest mountain. Enfys is a climber, up to about thirty-two, our grades—yeah, Col, I know. Better than Dad”

Several of the young lads and a couple of the girls looked at me, as I cursed that video, and I shrugged.

“Ish is spot on. She’s much better than me, and much more subtle about it. Taken me up some really delicate routes, which have never been my style. On slate”

‘Col’ whistled.

“The same stuff they put on a roof, Mr Rhodes?”

“The very same. Not much friction, so you need to be a bit careful with the holds. Agreed, Ish?”

My boy deadpanned superbly.

“That, and the risk of the rope being cut on some of the edges. Agreed, Enfys?”

She was doing her best to match his stoneface, but Enfys was never able to hide her emotions, and ended up pulling an expression that was more of a smirk than the study in nonchalance she had clearly been aiming for.

“I have some shots here… hang on. Sharing my screen”

Her voice continued over a series of pictures of her climbing, but I recognised the route immediately.

“This is me on what Dad calls my namesake route. My name means ‘rainbow’ in Welsh, and this route is called ‘The Rainbow of Recalcitrance’. It’s E6, 6b”

Ish explained the grade to his friends, to whistles, and at least one sharp reply from one of the young women to a slightly sexist observation about hard routes. Enfys was laughing now.

“I heard that! I sometimes get clients with that attitude. They lose it quickly! Now, I also have some photos like…. This one”

Ish, on Seamstress, followed by all of us at the top of Snowdon, and then some shots of our group on Crib Goch together with the teasing claim that it was the normal path up the mountain. She finished off with a couple of shots of LC and her bear on the Idwal Slabs, which brought a few more whistles.

“The next ones are for Ish, at his request. We, me and my wife and a lot of friends, we go to a music festival every year. And---Uncle Mike? More on the line; can you let them in?”

I hit the necessary buttons, and the Snowdonia pictures were replaced by a split screen, Enfys and Alys to one side, a beaming Clara on the other.

“Hi, Ish!”

“Hiya, girl, and for the benefit of this lot, this is Clara, my girlfriend. Enfys was just about to show us some Shrewsbury pics”

“Oh! Should I be worried?”

Alys was the one to laugh just then, in a totally contrived way.

“Mwahaha! I have loaded more pictures, and I now have control!”

Once again, the screen switched to their photo feed, and the first shot was actually from the Cow’s folk night, where Alys had caught me in full bellow with Ish, Illtyd and Marty. The next shot was of Maz and LC, both singing, which delighted me. Ish shouted for Alys to hold that picture, and then called his sister over from his, now her, mini climbing wall

“Caroline, do you remember singing?”

“Is that friends on the computer? Like Mr Smiley Beard on the phone?”

“Yes. It’s Enfys and Alys. Alys?”

“Yes?”

“Got that shot of her from Idwal?”

“Hang on… this isn’t my laptop, and my beloved is shit at filing things sensibly…”

Many of the young folk were now laughing happily, but we soon had a series of shots of something I hadn’t yet seen, which was LC climbing the Twin Cracks, her body position excellent and her face a mask of concentration. Clara chipped in.

“I fell off there, three times! It’s not fair---Ish and his Dad could just reach up for that top hold”

Ish called out, “Clara’s only about one sixty-five”

“I am not! I’m one seventy!”

“All looks the same down there. Anyway, I think Dad meant the first pics, ones Enfys showed us before you logged in”

We duly got another look at LC and Kawan, and then Ish, the sod, pulled up the now-revised video from our climbing wall, which now included my bit of disco leg on Heading the Shot as well as video of LC on the middle section of Flying Buttress, complete with the usual syrupy comments about it being a family sport. I raised a hand.

“Enough! This is meant to be a sociable chat, not a photo session, and I can see there’s someone else waiting to get in”

I did the necessary, and waved at two new faces.

“Shan! Darren! Welcome! It’s just getting into evening here, so it’s cooling down nicely, and we can---Ish? Late enough?”

He got the idea immediately, and a cold stubby duly appeared in my hand.

Darren muttered something about it being too early, and then waved out of what looked like a conservatory window.

“And it’s raining here. Not fair!”

“Sunny up in North Wales, son”

Clara laughed.

“And in South Wales, just this once”

The lad Ish had called ‘Col’ waved for attention.

“We need to find out the gossip on you two, Clara, or how will we take the pee out of Ish. Where did you meet?”

“Got my own photos. Hang on…”

A view up the slab of Tryfan Fach, with several climbers in situ, one in shorts. Be calm, Michael.

“North Wales. I was up with some friends, camping trip, and my Nana and a friend’s Dad already knew Mr Rhodes. We, my girlfriends and me, we like the campsite, cause it’s all new lambs in Spring, and this place is easy climbing and just out the back. We, um, well, a couple of my friends are climbers, but most of us just like the place for the views”

One of the girls made a snorting noise, before managing most of a comment about the views not being absolutely mountain-related, and Enfys was corpsing. Alys made the revelation.

“That place is one of my wife’s workplaces, guiding clients in climbing, so it should be obvious that we have a different perspective on it to Clara’s. Want me to tell them what you call it, girl?”

“You’re going to anyway, aren’t you?”

“Yup. ‘The Perving Slab’. Those girls even take a picnic so they can enjoy the views for as long as possible”

The local girl called out once again.

“I’m Mindy, by the way. Is that where you spotted Ish? Was he in short-shorts?”

“Er, no. It was in the local folk club. And he’s a spoilsport, is Ish. Wears board shorts, nothing really short. Not fair. I had to use my imagination”

Another raucous snort from Mindy.

“Bet it was your hands later, love! I’ve seen him in his footy shorts, so I have some idea. Nothing slack there. If I wasn’t spoken for, well! Hang on… Ish?”

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

She had her phone out.

“Possibly. Mailing you some shots from that match. Clara?”

“Yes?”

“Got an email addy I could use?”

“Oh---”

She rattled off a Hotmail address, and Mindy tapped it into her phone.

“Right… Now, both of you should have a couple of pics from a footy match Ish played in”

Col shouted out, “And saved for the bloody team, fair’s fair!”

Ish actually laughed at that one.

“Dad got confused, as he didn’t know how the game works. He thought we’d lost”

He started on a description of ‘his’ game, and to my surprise, his classmates were actually listening rather than tuning out. Clara stopped the flow in the end, with a loud “Ooh! Got the pics!”

Ish looked absolutely embarrassed at her news, but the rest of his schoolmates nagged him to pull the pictures up for us all to see. I was surprised at the quality, having assumed they were going to be standard mobile phone snaps, but they were really clear and well-composed. Mindy explained.

“Not my photos, Mr Rhodes. My bloke’s a proper photo buff, ey? Got these for the school paper. That’s Ish jumping to save the game”

That was my boy, in a vest and skimpy shorts, body at full stretch, and I realised, finally, that we had a grown man in our family now, and not a little boy. There were still norms to observe, though.

“Right! Now that we have the seen the all-conquering sportsman, it’s time for the traditional bit”

I flicked through to our photo file after logging my own laptop onto the meeting.

“Right. This is Ish when he first came home with his Mum…”