Sennen was having trouble sleeping. Her dreams were vivid and full of panic. She would find herself running from an unrevealed horror, but her legs wouldn’t work, dragging behind her as if stuck in treacle or cement. Sometimes she’d be drowning in Trevay Harbour, other times she was lost in an Indian town she didn’t know. The sun was beating down bringing the warm scent of the spices to her nose and she was walking in the busy market with her children, Kafir by her side. Then, abruptly, they were gone and she was lost and scared. She knew her family were in danger but her voice didn’t work, and even though she screamed for help, no sound came and no one heard her. She would wake distressed and crying.
That morning, she woke breathlessly trying to quell the panic in her body.
Outside it was still dark and she could hear the patter of soft rain falling on the eaves.
She lay still for a while and tried to will sleep back to her but it was a fruitless effort. She checked the time. Six fifteen.
A walk, that’s what she needed, to feel the earth under her feet and the elements on her face.
In the silent streets of Trevay she felt like the only person in the world. Down the cobbled lane, right onto Fore Street and then left onto the harbour. Here, there was a sign of human life. She could see the baker and her assistant working away in the kitchen behind the Old Bakery shop. The smell of fresh bread and pasties took her senses straight back to Saturday mornings with Adela, buying long French sticks and doughnuts for the students. On the way back from her walk she promised herself a treat.
On she went, down to the boats drifting on a high tide, the light drizzle cool on her face. She went past the Golden Hind pub, past the lane that led to Pencil House, until she found the start of the footpath that would take her over the cliffs towards the lighthouse and Tide Beach.
The cliff path was steeper than she remembered, but the view, when she finally reached the top, was as spectacular as it had always been. ‘Million-dollar view for nothing,’ her father had always said. Until now, she had never appreciated his words, but standing looking out over a horizon that stretched more than 180 degrees around her, she felt tiny yet huge. Alone but not lonely. Neither happy nor sad. She simply accepted her existence. The rising sun lit a golden path on the ocean below her and behind her a skylark began to sing.
She continued walking, thinking about how she had got to this junction in her life. She wasn’t a bad person, but she had done bad things. Or … were they bad or just wrong? It hadn’t been wrong to have Henry and Ella, but her decision to run away and look for Alan had been. She had hurt her parents, who hadn’t deserved to be hurt, and now she was hurting Kafir, Aali and Sabu.
Henry was rightly angry with her. She had had no idea that her parents were leaving her so much: she had not come for the money, she had come to apologise, reclaim her children and explain why she had left them. Was that selfish too?
But it was the money that was causing so much trouble. Ella didn’t want it. Sennen didn’t want it. Perhaps she should just give it all to Henry? But that didn’t feel right either.
She kept walking and thinking. She passed the lighthouse, crossed Tide Beach and found herself on Shellsand Bay.
The sand dunes glowed gold and the rain had stopped and she spotted a small lobster boat cutting bravely through the waves.
She sat on a barnacled rock and told herself she needed to make a plan.
She must have sat there for over half an hour, cloaked in regret and the desire to make amends.
She heard voices chatting breathlessly before she heard the regular thud of runners’ feet upon the sand.
She looked up. ‘Rosemary!’
Rosemary, red-faced and wearing a neon yellow running jacket and headband, puffed to a halt. ‘Darling, what are you doing up this early?’
‘I might ask the same of you.’ Sennen looked from Rosemary to her companion.
‘This is Jools. My partner,’ Rosemary said. ‘Jools, this is Sennen.’
Jools shook Sennen’s hand. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’ She smiled. She was in her late forties, Sennen judged, with blond hair tucked behind her ears and an open friendly face.
‘What are you partners in?’ asked Sennen.
Rosemary gave her a mischievous smile. ‘Jools is my girlfriend. She was away on business when you spent the night.’
Sennen’s eyes widened. ‘Oh.’ She tried hard to keep her voice level. ‘Gosh. Fantastic.’
Jools laughed. ‘I think so.’
‘How did you meet?’ Sennen was aware she was gabbling.
‘Very romantically.’ Rosemary took Jools’ hand. ‘She took me to hospital one night after Ray had had a drink too many.’
‘I’m a police officer. Rosemary’s husband had attempted to strangle her.’
‘Oh my God.’ Sennen was horrified. ‘You didn’t tell me about that.’
Jools put her arm around Rosemary. ‘She’s been through a lot, this one.’
Sennen nodded. ‘Including the time I made her run away to Spain with me.’
‘Oh, that was fun,’ Rosemary insisted. ‘Well, it wasn’t then, but it’s a good story now.’
‘Come on,’ said Jools, readying herself to run again, ‘we’ve got another two miles and then it’s coffee.’
‘See you later, Sennen? Coffee in Trevay? Ten-ish?’ shouted Rosemary as she set off.
‘Great. See you then.’ Sennen watched as they jogged off down the beach. ‘Well,’ she said to herself. ‘Life is full of surprises. I never saw Rosemary as a runner.’
From the opposite end of the beach, Kit and Ella, with Terry and Celia chasing a ball, appeared.
‘Is that Mum?’ Ella put her hand up to shield her eyes from the brightness of the rising sun, ‘Look, skimming stones?’
Ella cupped her hands to her mouth and called, ‘Muuum! Mum!’
Somehow the words reached Sennen’s ears on the ragged wind and seeing Ella and Kit she waved.
‘Hi, Mum. You’re up early.’
‘Well, I’ve got lots to think about, haven’t I?’ Sennen hugged them both. ‘Veils, weddings …’ She bent down and tickled the dogs.
‘That’s Celia and this one is Terry,’ said Kit. ‘They are both drama queens but love chasing a ball. Watch.’ He threw the tennis ball into the waves and both dogs sped after it.
‘I have missed the sea,’ said Sennen watching them. ‘Really missed it. Agra is about as far from the sea as you can imagine. I’ve been trying my hand at skimming but I’m so out of practice. Watch.’ She picked up a smooth sliver of slate and, with a flick of her wrist, loosed it at the sea. After two skips it sank. ‘See. Rubbish. Poppa was good but Mum had the talent. Sometimes seventeen or eighteen bounces.’
‘I remember that,’ said Ella. ‘I would usually have my birthday parties on the beach and she would always set up a skimming competition.’
‘She did the same for me too, when I was little.’ Sennen was surprised at how clear the memory was. ‘Shall we have a go, now? Six stones each?’
Celia and Terry thoroughly enjoyed the game and, refusing to chase their tennis ball, began to swim out for the stones.
‘Woohoo!’ shouted Ella, her arms in the air as her last stone reached fourteen bounces. ‘I win.’
‘Oh, that was fun,’ said Sennen breathlessly. ‘I am going to miss you both so much when I go back.’
‘No, you won’t. As soon as we can we’ll come out to see you and meet our new family,’ said Ella stoutly. ‘If you don’t mind.’
‘I want that more than anything. I’ll show you both the Taj and we’ll eat wonderful food and you’ll love the market. I would love Henry to come too.’
‘I’m sure he will,’ smiled Ella. ‘He can never bear to be left out of anything.’
Eventually, Sennen left them to return to Trevay, and Kit and Ella headed back towards home.
‘I’ve been wondering,’ Kit said, ‘now that you’ve got your wedding dress, and before it goes out of fashion, or you get too fat for it …’ He dodged a thump from Ella. ‘That maybe, if you’re free over the next couple of weeks, you would consider getting married to me?’
Ella jumped on the spot. ‘You mean, book the church and cake and guests and …?’
‘That’s the idea.’
‘But don’t we have to get a licence and read banns and get blood tests and stuff?’
‘I don’t think we need blood tests, but we can ask Simon about the rest.’
Ella hugged herself. ‘Oh yes! We can just walk next door and into the church. How romantic is that? Hope it doesn’t rain.’
‘You look lovely in the rain.’ He kissed her soft lips then buried his face in her perfumed hair. ‘I have loved you from the first moment I saw you.’
She leant into him and closed her eyes. His arms felt so right as they held her. Six months ago she had no job, no boyfriend and no mother. Happiness had been sent to her by whatever transient passing fate had decided to drop on her shoulders. She held Kit tighter. ‘I love you more than I can say, Kit. I promise to be a good wife. Faithful. Loyal. I will always be by your side, no matter what.’
‘And I, Kit Beauchamp, promise that I will take care of you always. I will never let you down.’
Sennen walked back along the cliffs to Trevay alone. Her mind was splitting off in so many directions. How long could she feasibly stay? Until Ella was married? She didn’t want to rush Ella and Henry but she also had two little ones.
Should she stay and help to build the art school?
But she wasn’t sure if that was what Ella really wanted, not with Henry’s negative response.
Should she run back to India and never come home again? But what was left in India? Did she have a marriage? Wouldn’t Sabu and Aali be better off without her?
Or should she just run away to another life altogether. Leave both the mess here and in India and build a life somewhere else. She had done it before. She could do it again.
That was the simple solution. Simple for everyone. Clean. Done.
The cliff path was narrow now, the edge very close to the steep drop and the sea. She took a step closer and viewed the broiling waves below, crashing on to the mussel- and limpet-encrusted rocks; sharp and deadly.
She thought back to the stones she had been skimming just a short while ago. One stone could make many ripples. One person could create a storm that drowned others’ lives.
She stepped back from the edge and sat on the grass tufted edge of the path. ‘Where do I belong?’ Her question was ripped away on the wind.
Closing her eyes, she lay back on the soft sward and allowed her senses to take in the thump of the thundering waves, the call of a gull, the chug of a boat’s engine, the fingers of the wind brushing her cheeks and the tangy smell of salt and nature.
She couldn’t tell when it started but she became aware of something, somebody, at her side. A presence.
She didn’t dare open her eyes for fear of what she might see. She knew who it was. She heard her. Not through her ears, but through her body. It was her mother. ‘I am with you,’ she was saying. ‘All is well.’ The words were repeated like a chant, a mantra, many times, until Sennen saw, in her mind’s eye, her mother place a hand on her forehead. The touch filled her with peace just as the vision of Adela began to fade.
When the dream or mirage or apparition had left, Sennen lay still, allowing her conscious mind to absorb the knowledge she had been given. She opened her eyes and sat up. ‘Thank you, Mum. Thank you for the answer.’
Simon Canter, vicar of Pendruggan, sat at the desk in his study and beamed at the happy couple in front of him.
‘Congratulations. This is happy news,’ he said. ‘When were you thinking of having the wedding?’
Kit jumped in. ‘As soon as possible because we don’t know how long Ella’s mum will be here for and we want her to be there, obviously.’
Simon looked at the large diary in front of him and turned the pages. ‘There’s a space two Saturdays from now but that would be too soon. We couldn’t get the banns read in time, or …’ He riffled through some more pages. ‘There’s an empty Saturday in six weeks.’ He looked up and saw the disappointment in their faces. ‘I mean, there are ways of doing this very quickly if you get a common licence. I can help you with that. It costs a bit but there will be no need for any banns to be read, so off we go.’
Ella sat forward to the edge of her seat. ‘How soon could that be fixed?’
‘As long as there are no hitches, I should think you’ll be married in two weeks. Midday is a good time.’ He blinked kindly behind his glasses.
Ella grinned at Kit. ‘Shall we?’
‘Why not?’
They left the vicarage, bouncing with happiness. ‘I’ve got to tell Mum,’ said Ella, beaming.
‘Now?’
‘Yes, before she does something stupid like book a flight back to India.’
‘What about Henry?’
‘I’ll call him after I’ve spoken to Mum. He’s going to have to give me away, after all.’ Thinking of something she stopped. ‘You’d better phone Adam – he will be your best man, won’t he?’
‘Yes. I suppose so.’
‘And Jenna will be my flower girl.’ Ella was zinging with happiness. ‘She’ll be perfect, carrying a little basket of petals to spread before me.’
Kit shook his head in bemusement. ‘Really? Do we need all this?’
‘I am only getting married once, Mr Beauchamp, so it had better be bloody perfect.’
Kit grabbed her and kissed her. ‘Remind me, did I buy you an engagement ring?’
She squealed. ‘NO! Well, not yet anyway.’
‘We’ll go shopping tomorrow.’
She hugged him, ‘Thank you. This is all so exciting. When shall we send the invitations out?’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Yes. Maybe Queenie has some in the shop.’
‘They’ll be from 1956 if she has.’
Laughing, they headed up to the Village Stores.
Queenie was sitting on one of her old but comfortable armchairs by the counter of the shop, her feet up on a plastic bottle crate, made more comfortable with a cushion on the top. As the bell tinkled on the door she struggled to her feet.
‘’Ello, me ducks. What brings you ’ere so cheerful?’
‘Can you keep a secret?’ breathed Ella.
Queenie’s canny old eyes lit up behind her pebble-thick specs that were the size of re-entry shields. ‘I’m known for me discretion, me.’
Ella put her arm through Kit’s. ‘Kit and I are getting married!’
‘Never! Well, bless me. Ain’t that lovely. When’s this, then?’
‘Two weeks tomorrow.’
‘Oh, my good Gawd. Come and give me a kiss.’
She bestowed her whiskered kisses on both of them, then asked them what they had come in for.
‘Wedding invitations.’
‘Oh now, I’ve got some somewhere – ’ang about and I’ll find them.’
Kit and Ella passed knowing smiles to each other as Queenie rummaged in the huge bottom drawer of an old haberdashery dresser. ’Ere, Kit. Give me a hand.’
Kit obediently went behind the counter and helped her lift a faded cardboard box onto the counter.
‘Have a look in there, while I put me legs up again.’ She went back to her chair and put her feet on the crate. ‘They may be a bit out of date but that’s cos they’re vintage.’
Ella lifted the lid and put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. ‘Queenie, these have got photos of Prince Charles and Lady Diana on them.’
‘Dig a bit deeper, dear.’
‘Oh, these are nice.’ Ella held out a handful of cards that had prettily painted forget-me-nots, primroses and larkspur on them. In silver writing they had either The Happiest of Days is Here, Marriage Joy or, rather more jocularly, Aisle be Seeing You written upon them.
‘Let me look, dear.’ Queenie held out her hand and looked closely at them. ‘Oh yes, these are definitely vintage. Seventies, I should say. Do they have envelopes?’
Ella felt about in the box. ‘No.’
‘I’ll find you some, but they might not fit. How many people you inviting? It’s a pity your mum isn’t here.’
‘But she is!’ Ella smiled excitedly. ‘She came back!’
Queenie was dumbstruck. ‘And no one told me?’ she gasped.
‘It’s not a secret, but we’ve had a lot to talk about and we had to get to know each other without distractions.’
‘I had the newspaper, here on me counter, with that poor girl’s face looking out. I can still it clearly. We thought she’d gone for good. Her poor parents were heartbroken.’
‘Yes, it wasn’t an easy time.’ Ella wanted to change the subject, ‘Anyway, I shall be needing about twenty invitations.’ She counted in her head. ‘No more than twenty.’
‘Does that include me?’ asked Queenie, pointedly brushing cigarette ash off her bosom.
‘Of course it does.’
‘Oh, good. I could do the catering if you like? Twenty of me famous pasties is easy for me to do.’
Kit said a little too quickly, ‘We haven’t talked about the reception yet.’
Queenie cackled naughtily. ‘Got you there, boy. You have what you want, only I don’t like prawns so don’t have any of them, or vol au vents. Pastry gets stuck in my dentures.’
‘Understood,’ said Kit.
Queenie looked over at Ella. ‘’Ave you found enough cards, duck?’
‘Yes, just about. I like that they are a bit mixed up and not the same.’
Kit paid for them and the extra envelopes and before he left with Ella he reminded Queenie, ‘Please don’t say anything to anyone just yet. About the wedding or Ella’s mum. We don’t want any more attention than necessary.’
Queenie held her hand up. ‘Don’t you worry about that. Me lips are sealed. Careless talk costs lives and all that.’
She waved them off from her armchair and watched as they walked back towards Marguerite Cottage. In her cardigan pocket, next to her smoking tackle, was her mobile phone. She pulled it out and punched a number into it.
‘’Ello? Beryl, is that you? I’ve got some news for you. But you mustn’t tell anyone …’