'A necklace of five shells on the steps of the disused church, are you sure?'

'Arranged in the five points of Venus our morning star, they were.'

There was a deathly silence, Tommy Two Herrings was thinking, the pain was obvious, 'I wonder who could have placed them there?' he said.

'It's a sign,' Huw six months ventured, 'and a bad sign too, no one would ever go near that place it's haunted by a Holy Ghost.'

'Tommy Two Herrings nodded. 'You are right, our village is in great danger - the Evangelicals are coming. Let's go and ask Huws the shop, he'll know what to do.'

Our village, south facing, a dilapidated cluster of once upon a time painted dwellings nestled snugly between gorse covered dunes and the sea. The houses with low thick walls and small windows were herded together defensively and clearly reflected our introspection. It was rumoured the County Council had no record of us and for that we gave thanks. The only road to and from the village was a narrow rough winding track hemmed in on both sides by gorse bushes where rabbits thrived. The obliquity of our development resulting from our isolation exited those intrepid English ramblers who accidentally stumbled on our village as a discovery of great anthropological importance.

Huws' Emporium, however, built about 1810, was modern and out of keeping with its surroundings. Above the Emporiums door a small narrow sign, its paint peeling, and written in English said, 'Licensed to sell Tobacco.' Licensed by whom was a mystery. Above the wooden latch on the door's top half, a blue enamel sign with white lettering advertising Brook Bond tea had been nailed over a hole in the door. Someone of fundamentalist vacuity and suffering withdrawals caused by total abstention had feverishly scratched underneath, 'Strong drink mocketh' but left out the letter k.

They arrived during Huws' morning devotions to ask about the shells.

'Just once before I go,' they heard him pray to Lleu our God.

'Let me hear the peal of the till bells ringing in my ears, more beautiful it would be than the rendering of the 'Last Great Amen.' Replete with joyful anticipation he raised his arms above his head and shouted, 'Alleluia' on top of his voice. A mouse scampered from the cheese counter in fright as glass funnels for oil lamps rocked precariously on the top shelf of the Emporium's 'household' section as the rush of silence filled the shop.

'A necklace of five shells, and laid out in the five points of Venus? No, I did not sell them from my Emporium,' he frowned at the thought of the profit lost. 'Five sea shells you say, I wonder?'

Tommy two herrings placed the necklace carefully on the counter for Huws to look at. Huws, his mind was in overdrive, stared as he busily sharpened an indelible pencil and skilfully slid it behind his ear in readiness for the day's business. Their discussion was interrupted as the Reverend Samuel Luther Jones came in as he did on each day of opening.

'Have you the latest version of the Bible Mr Huws?' he asked, to be told as on each and every day of asking,

'Don't deal in rare books Reverend Jones, no call you see, have these cigarettes instead, sliding a packet across the polished counter as he skilfully slipped the Reverends money into his waistcoat pocket. He pressed the no sales button, the till drawer shot out disturbing a fine layer of dust, only to be pushed in again, just in case.

'He'll give them away as inducements to get our people into his chapel,' he said. He laughed, ' inducements indeed, the only way to get this lot to chapel is for old Samuel to pray for another miracle so the fish would jump into the nets and surrender like they did somewhere in England.' Suddenly he remembered.

'It's them,' he said pointing to the beached wreck of an old fishing boat where Dai Deep Sea it's owner had left it one night after a romantic encounter with a mermaid of dubious character.

'Lovely she is, warm and pure as the Gulf Stream,' Dai shouted from his wheel house, 'love has opened my eyes, I have seen the Light.'

One dark but not so stormy night fortified by the spirits, egged on by his lovely, he took to walking upon the waters just like Lloyd George once did. On the first Thursday following the full moon those who walk the old ways and have the 'sight' tell how Dai and his mermaid bride, no longer of ill repute, are sometimes seen hand in hand by the old wreck, their love brimming over in it's ecstasy that would last unto eternity.

'No need to worry lads,' Huws said after some thought, 'trying to renew their vows they were, I'm sure of it. We'd better ask the Reverend if he will officiate, tell him it's the first Thursday night following the full moon. Tell him, also, Dai's bride has left her necklace as advance payment; a very thoughtful gesture of her part.'

'Not much for turning out at night, a shell necklace as payment.' Tommy Two Herrings said.