Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to HiT Entertainment. All OCs belong to me.

Chapter 27

10 months later - June 1985

"And now, we'll present the graduate degrees for Chemistry," the dean announced. He started announcing the names as the graduates walked across the stage to collect their degree.

I drew in a nervous breath as I straightened my mortarboard. This is it! In just a few more minutes, I'll be a university graduate at last!

When it came to my turn to go onto the stage, I handed my card to the stage announcer, so he could announce my name. I glanced to my right, hoping that my family had their cameras ready.

"Samuel Jones."

I walked across the stage with my black graduation gown fanning out behind me. I couldn't contain my grin as I shook the dean's hand.

"While Samuel receives his degree, we are thrilled to also present him with a special honour," the announcer said. "Two years ago, our heritage listed chemistry building was badly damaged in a chemical fire. Samuel not only attempted to put out that fire, but he also raised the alarm, and encouraged his fellow students to get down below the smoke. Although he was superficially injured trying to escape, no one can deny that his bravery helped everyone to evacuate the building safely. So, Sam, on behalf of the students and staff of Cardiff University, we're proud to present you with this plaque to commemorate your bravery. A copy of the plaque will be placed inside the foyer of the recently refurbished chemistry building."

I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I accepted the plaque, along with my degree. The audience rose to their feet, giving me a standing ovation as I made my way off the stage. So, that's why the dean phoned grandad yesterday! He wanted to be sure I'd be here. Once I was alone backstage, I glanced at the plaque to read what it said.

'This plaque commemorates the brave and heroic actions of Cardiff University graduate, Samuel Peyton Jones, who, on Thursday the 2nd of June 1983, raised the alarm and attempted to extinguish a fire that took hold in one of the chemistry labs. His actions helped evacuate over three hundred students and staff from this building, saving their lives.'

"Congratulations, Sam!" mum exclaimed when I joined my family outside the auditorium about half an hour later. She pulled me into a tight embrace.

"Well done, son," dad added. He patted my shoulder. "At least your mother can now tick something off her bucket list. She's managed to put one of her kids through university."

"Pity it wasn't Oxford or Cambridge," mum muttered. Then, she planted a kiss on my forehead, almost knocking off my mortarboard in the process. I quickly straightened it.

"Now, now, Mary," Gareth soothed. "You can't have everything. Sam's done an amazing job to get through university, so let's not ruin his graduation."

Mum finally let me go. I'd barely had a chance to catch my breath when Gwen hugged me as well.

"Okay, that's enough!" I gasped. "I need to breathe."

Gwen reluctantly let me go. "Well done, Sam."

"Thanks."

"Why don't we have a group photo?" grandad suggested. "It's been a while since we've had one."

"I can take it," Gareth volunteered.

"No, wait," I said. "I can see Mr Robinson over there. He's my chemistry lecturer. I can ask him to take it for us."

Mr Robinson was more than happy to take the photo for us. In fact, he ended up taking several photos – one with all of us together, one of myself with my parents, one of myself with grandad and one with myself and Charlie. I proudly held up my plaque and degree in all of them. Little did I realise just how meaningful those photos would become.

…

About two weeks later, I was sitting on the window seat in my bedroom, reading a book, when grandad called for me.

"Sam! Mail!"

Reluctantly, I put my book aside, and I made my way downstairs. Grandad was standing in the kitchen, holding a letter. I held out my hand to take it, but he held onto it.

"Uh, uh, Sam," he teased. "This letter comes at a cost."

I sighed in defeat. "What's your price?"

"A week washing the dishes."

"Done." And grandad handed over the letter.

"Perhaps I should've included the laundry as well," grandad muttered. He picked up his cup of tea before sitting down at the kitchen table.

I sliced open my letter with a letter knife. "You'll be lucky."

Grandad chuckled. "If you're going to go and live by yourself, you need to learn how to look after yourself properly."

I ignored him, I was too busy reading my letter. I'd barely got past the first paragraph before I found that I needed to sit down.

"Is everything okay, Sam?"

I nodded eagerly. "More than okay. I've been accepted into the fire academy! I've passed the medical, and I start in September."

"Well, aside from the medical and your mother, you didn't really have any obstacles," grandad pointed out. "Of course, the personal recommendations from the Chief Fire Officer and Station Officer Michaels meant that you were pretty much guaranteed entry into the academy."

"I know, but it wasn't certain. I wish they hadn't done that though. I wanted to be accepted on my own merit."

"It was your own merit. You saved all of those students and became an overnight hero. Even without the recommendations, I'm sure they'd have accepted you. Regardless of how it happened, I'm so proud of you! When do you need to be there to start?"

I consulted the letter. "I need to have moved into my dorm before the fifth of September. So, that gives us about two months."

"That's bags of time." Grandad stood up. "Let's have an ice lolly to celebrate. Then, I'll go and phone your parents to tell them the good news."

I stood up as well, and I hugged grandad tightly. "Diolch am sefyll o'm ôl (Thank you for standing by me)."

"Croeso, Sam (You're welcome, Sam)."

…

Later that night, I was sleeping soundly, when a tapping sound woke me. Groaning, I reluctantly sat up and I rubbed my eyes. The tapping paused. Looking around in the darkness, I gasped when I saw two red eyes staring at me from the window.

My pwca? What's it doing back here again?

Getting up, I put on my dressing gown and slippers before I went over to the window. The pwca was in the form of an owl again. The tapping sound had come from it repeatedly hitting its beak against the glass.

I opened the window. "What do you want this time?"

Instead of answering me, the pwca shape-shifted into a will o' the wisp, which then floated into my bedroom through the open window. I frowned as I closed it.

"I thought you could float through anything?"

The wisp made a cute, shrugging gesture. Then, it drifted over to my closed bedroom door. Sighing, I opened the door. I followed the wisp down the hallway to grandad's bedroom door, which was slightly ajar. As soon as I touched the door, the wisp vanished.

Something's not quite right here… I thought as I tentatively pushed open the door. I was surprised to see that he still had his bedside light on, despite it being about three-thirty a.m. Then, I saw that grandad was slumped against his pillow in bed, with a book open on his lap and his head drooping against his chest.

"Oh, no." My whisper was barely audible, even in the silent room. In my heart, I knew the truth, but my mind still needed convincing. I made my way over to the bed and I placed my hand on top of his. It was stone cold. Shocked, I snapped my hand back as though I'd just touched a burning candle.

He's dead! How…? I'd better tell someone… Who do you report a death to? I'm sure a doctor would know. Paramedics. They'd know what to do.

I hurried out into the hallway, and I turned on the light before I picked up the phone's receiver. Then, I dialled 999.

"Which service do you require?"

"Ambulance."

There was silence for a few seconds are I was transferred to the ambulance call centre. "Ambulance," a female voice said. "What's your emergency?"

"It's my grandfather. He's died in his sleep. I've only just discovered him."

"Okay, what's your address, please?"

I told her.

"And your name?"

"Sam Jones."

"Thank you. I've dispatched an ambulance to you. Is there anyone else with you?"

I knew I was starting to panic, so I drew in a deep, sharp breath to try and calm myself before I answered. "No. I'm on my own."

"Do you mind me asking how old you are?"

"I've only just turned eighteen."

"I thought you sounded young. Can you check you grandfather's pulse?"

"Yes, but he's cold. I'll be back in a moment." I placed the receiver down beside the phone, and I returned inside grandad's bedroom. This has to be a nightmare… I couldn't look grandad in the face, so I averted my eyes as I felt his wrist for a pulse. Then, I returned to the phone. "No, he doesn't have one."

"Okay. Since you're alone, I've informed the police and there's a patrol car on its way to you. I've just asked them to look after you until things can get sorted out."

"Thank you. I can hear sirens approaching now."

"That'll be the police. The ambulance will be making a silent approach. When they arrive, I want you to go and let them inside and then come back to the phone."

"Sure." The doorbell rang then. "They're here."

"Off you go."

I set the receiver down again, and I went downstairs. When I opened the front door, I saw that one of the two police officers was a woman.

"Inspector Jenkins and Constable Ryan," the male police officer said, introducing themselves. "We were directed here to investigate a reported death. Are you Sam Jones?"

"Yes. Come in."

Once the police officers were inside, I closed the door.

"I woke up about ten minutes ago, and I sensed that something was wrong, and when I went to check on my grandad, I found him dead," I explained as I showed them upstairs. "He's in that room there," I added as I picked up the phone receiver. Constable Ryan remained in the hallway with me. "The police are inside now," I reported to the dispatcher.

"Good. I'm going to hang up now. I hope you'll be okay."

"Thank you." I waited until I heard her hang up before I did as well. I hope I'll be okay too. Please, let this just be a nightmare…

"Why don't we go downstairs?" Constable Ryan suggested.

I nodded in agreement. We were about to go downstairs when Inspector Jenkins emerged from grandad's bedroom.

"Has anything in this room been moved or altered?"

I shook my head. "I've only touched his hand to check for his pulse. His light was on when I found him."

"Okay. Take him downstairs, Constable Ryan."

Constable Ryan guided me downstairs, and she made me sit down on the sofa. I rested my head in my hands as my tears finally started to flow. Seeing that I was also shivering, Constable Ryan picked up the throw that was draped over the back of the sofa, and she wrapped it around my shoulders.

"There, now. Go ahead and cry. It'll do you some good. I'm amazed you've been so calm during all this. Most people are usually in a terrible state."

"I'm a trainee fireman," I explained through my tears.

"Oh. That explains a lot."

Inspector Jenkins returned downstairs just as the front doorbell rang again. "That's the paramedics. I'll go and show them in."

As Inspector Jenkins showed the two paramedics inside, I listened to them talking.

"I don't think you'll be able to do much," Inspector Jenkins said. "We have a deceased male, aged about eighty. He was found by his grandson about twenty minutes ago."

"Are the circumstances suspicious?"

"Not unless you find something I've missed. He appears to have died in his sleep."

They disappeared upstairs. I managed to subdue my tears. "Sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Constable Ryan soothed. "Just try and relax."

Inspector Jenkins returned downstairs. "Sam? Is there anyone we can contact to come and help you sort everything out?"

"My parents. They live about an hour away, in a town called Pontypandy."

"Do you have their phone number?"

I told him, and he wrote it down in his notebook.

"And, what are their names?"

"David and Mary Jones."

"Thanks. I'll go and inform them."

A paramedic came downstairs. "Inspector?"

"Yes?"

"I just thought I should let you know that you're right. This death is not suspicious. He appears to have died in his sleep from either a stroke or a heart attack. Given the circumstances, I'd say it occurred between about nine and ten p.m."

Just after we went to bed. A fresh wave of tears overcame me. Constable Ryan kindly patted my shoulder.

"That's it. Keep the tears coming. It'll help. Can you tell us what your grandfather's name was?"

"Tomos Jones," I replied through my tears.

"We'll take him to the University Hospital morgue," the paramedic said to Inspector Jenkins. "I'll give you the details to pass onto the rest of his family. Someone will have to come and make a formal identification of him and determine if a post-mortem should be carried out."

"Let's go upstairs to talk," Inspector Jenkins suggested when he saw me shiver again. "Sam's in shock."

After they'd gone upstairs, Constable Ryan continued to rub my shoulders. "Feeling any better?" she asked as my tears subsided.

I shrugged. "There…there was no warning!"

"I know. It's sad, but sometimes, there isn't."

"Do you think he knew?"

"Probably not. He most likely just fell asleep and…"

I nodded solemnly. I felt so alone. Seeing that I'd exhausted myself, Constable Ryan stopped rubbing my shoulders, and she encouraged me to lie down.

"That's it. Try and go to sleep now. We'll be right here when you wake up."

I closed my eyes, and I tried to relax, but I was shivering too much. A few minutes later, Inspector Jenkins returned downstairs. His voice startled me.

"I phoned Sam's parents while I was upstairs. They're on their way."

"Good. We'd better stay here until they arrive. I'm going to see if the paramedics can treat Sam for his shock. Look at him. He's still shivering."

"Yes, I noticed that. Is he asleep?"

"I hope so. It's what he really needs right now, poor kid."

I heard nothing more because I finally fell asleep.