The Promise

by Michelle Vernal

  There was no sign of his painting gear, Isabel noted now as Rhodri got up from his seat to greet them. She hoped he hadn’t been waiting long; it was only just after 4 p.m. though the time they’d agreed to meet.

  ‘I’ve ordered a pot of tea and a scone each with jam on the side. I hope that’s all right? The monks make their own jam. I poked my head in the farm shop and bought a couple of jars of their raspberry preserve as well as some relish. You can’t beat homemade.’ He smiled at them both.

  ‘Lovely, I’m parched,’ Constance said, nodding her earlier sentiment about it being time to go home forgotten at the thought of tea and a scone.

  ‘Me too,’ Isabel reiterated with a smile. ‘Did you do some painting?’

  ‘I did thanks, and then I packed up so as I could mooch around the abbey. There’s all sorts to see here you know. I spotted one of Nico’s works on display in the art gallery, and the Brothers keep pigs and rescued hens as well as maintain an impressive vegetable patch. They’re pretty much self-sufficient.’

  ‘It’s not changed since I was a girl,’ Constance said.

  ‘No I’d imagine not,’ Rhodri replied. ‘It’s a special place.’

  Constance and Isabel looked at each other upon hearing that sentiment not long since uttered by Constance. Isabel reached across the table and patted her hand, and Rhodri’s gaze swung between the two of them unsure as to what had transpired that afternoon but too polite to ask. The arrival of their tea and plump scones with a pottle of homemade jam provided a diversion, and the trio tucked in. A few bites later and with crumbs all down her front, Isabel declared the scones and jam, ‘delicious.'

  It was a silent ride back to Sea Vistas and sensing no one was in the mood for chatting Rhodri let the radio play softly. From the dip of Constance’s head, Isabel was guessing she’d nodded off. She gazed out the window, but didn't see the countryside this time; her mind was too full of what Constance had told her. Rhodri had stilled the engine before Isabel caught up with the fact they were back at Sea Vistas. The car park was nearly deserted save for the staff members with most of the Sunday visitors having headed off to let the residents have their dinner.

  Rhodri got out and unloaded the wheelchair not bothering to mess about with unfolding it; it had taken them long enough to collapse it once more in the first place. He leaned it against the Land Rover before giving Isabel a hand to help Constance down. Isabel linked her arm through Constance’s and followed Rhodri’s lead as he carted the chair inside to the foyer ahead of them. It was a different girl on reception, there for the evening shift and she introduced herself as Courtenay with a ‘C.' Isabel hadn’t seen her before, and she returned her greeting cheerily.

  ‘Did you have a nice outing?’ Courtney directed her question to Constance who told her she was Constance with a ‘C’ before giving her a curt, ‘yes thank you.’ The girl’s manner was that of someone fresh from school and to whom anyone over the age of thirty-five was ancient. Isabel bit her lip to stop herself from smiling at the exchange. It didn’t pay to talk to Constance as though she’d been put out to pasture. Rhodri she saw too had a gleam in his eye.

  He jangled his keys. ‘I’ve got a pottery class tonight, Isabel, do you want a lift home?’

  ‘No thanks, I’ll probably go straight from here to the Rum Den. Thanks so much for taking us today Rhodri.’ She made a mental note to purchase some petrol vouchers, not that he was likely to accept them.

  ‘It was my pleasure. Right then, ladies, I’ll be on my way.’ He leaned down and kissed Constance on the cheek, ending the day as it had begun.

  ‘Thank you for today.’

  ‘You’re very welcome.’

  The two women stood and watched him go.

  A clatter from the direction of the dining room reminded Isabel of the time. ‘Would you like to pop through to the dining room, and see what’s on offer?’

  Constance shook her head. ‘No I’m not hungry. Are you?’

  ‘No, that scone did the trick. Shall I see you up to your room then?’

  ‘Yes. I’m quite done in.’

  Isabel wasn’t surprised; it had been a huge afternoon. They made their way to the lift that was standing open waiting for them. The corridor outside Constance’s room was deserted, Isabel saw as the doors slid open. She took Constance’s arm and matched her pace waiting patiently as they reached her room. She opened her purse asking Isabel to retrieve her room key. A moment later Isabel followed her inside and paused to admire the pink glow the room was cast in as the last of the day’s sunshine bounced off the soft furnishings. It was such a warm and welcoming space, she thought. The significance of Sea Vistas to Constance’s past suddenly struck her. It was where she met Henry and lost him too. Henry Johnson, the great love of her life, had played out the final scenes of his life in this building.

  Her eyes flitted toward Rhodri’s painting; she understood now why Constance had wanted it the moment she saw it. Quarr was hers and Henry’s place it was where Teddy had been conceived.

  She led Constance over to her chair by the window and watched her sag into it.

  ‘Would you like me to stay for a bit, Constance?’

  ‘No, dear. I think I’d like to be alone.’

  ‘You’re all right?’

  ‘I’m perfectly fine; just tired, which is only to be expected because I am eighty-nine years old you know, so don’t fuss, Isabel.’

  That was the Constance she knew and loved. ‘Okay, well, I’ll come and see you tomorrow morning.’ Isabel turned to leave pausing in the doorway and turning around. ‘Constance?’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘I’m so very glad I met you.’

  ‘And I you, Isabel. Isn’t it strange that I have Ginny to thank for my having met you?’

  Chapter 42

  Somehow Isabel got through her shift at the Rum Den that evening despite her head buzzing with all that Constance told her that afternoon. She managed to give the wrong change out twice, receiving a sharp look from Brenda for her efforts and forced herself to focus on the pint pulling at hand. The pub was humming and the hours flew by until last orders, by which time Isabel’s feet were throbbing. She’d been run off them all night, and she took the notes Brenda scooped from the till gratefully forty minutes later when they’d finished clearing up for the evening.

  ‘I’ll see you Tuesday, thanks, Brenda.’ She slung her bag over her shoulder and made for the door eager to be off.

  ‘’Ere ‘ang on a minute. Can you pick me up some more of that turmeric powders? It’s worked wonders with me bunions. And, what do you reckon we can do for my varicose veins? It’s all the standing behind the bar that aggravates them.’

  ‘I’ll call in on Delwyn tomorrow and see what I can find.’

  ‘Sandshoe, because they ain't half giving me grief.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Sandshoe. Its cockney rhyming slang ain't it, for thank you. Enjoy your day off. ‘Ave you got anyfing nice planned?’

  ‘I’ll pop in on Constance in the morning, and my mum was making noises about getting the ferry over for the afternoon if she could swing the morning off work.’ Isabel hoped she didn’t bring Prince Charles with her. The last time she’d brought him with her, reluctant to leave him at home on account of his separation anxiety, he’d been so excited to see her he’d cocked his leg on the gallery floor.

  ‘Well, be sure and bring Babs in for an on-the-‘ouse drink if she does, she’ll have to leave that pooch outside though.’

  Isabel didn’t raise a smile.

  Brenda frowned, and Isabel noticed one eyebrow had been painted in higher than the other. ‘You all right luv?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks.’

  Brenda moved over to the entrance and unlocked the door. ‘It’s just you seemed like you were somewhere else tonight.’

  ‘I was a bit. I’ll have my mind on the job come Tuesday, I promise.’

  Seeing that was as much as she was going to get out of her Brenda open
ed the door and stood hand on hip waiting for her to pass, ‘If you say so, me girl.’ As Isabel walked past her, she reached out and touched her arm. ‘If you need someone to talk to—’

  ‘Thanks, Brenda, I’ll remember that.’

  To her surprise, her boss gave her a smile that was almost maternal. ‘Night now and mind how you go.’

  Isabel was touched and reiterating the sentiment she stepped outside eager to get home and be alone with her thoughts. She jumped as a man stepped forward from a darkened doorway and her hand flew to her chest. ‘Bloody hell, Rhodri! You have got to stop doing that.’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’ve not long finished my pottery class with Nico so I thought I’d walk you home.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Isabel knew his pottery class finished ages ago. She heard the lock turning in the door behind her pleased Brenda hadn’t seen him. Her boss, she knew would be all too quick to read things into the situation that weren’t there. ‘Did you finish your masterpiece?’ She knew he was working on a salad bowl.

  ‘No, the glaze is done, and it’s back in the kiln. Hopefully, I can bring it home next week and make—’

  ‘A Caesar salad?’ It was Isabel’s favourite. ‘With croutons and a poached egg that’s not too runny?’

  ‘A Caesar salad with croutons and a poached egg with a set white it is then.’ He grinned, his teeth white against the inky night.

  They walked along in silence for a bit illuminated by the thick yellow street light. ‘Rhodri, thanks again for today,’ Isabel said, as they passed by the Cancer Research Op Shop. The headless mannequin dressed in a pretty summer frock looked almost spooky in the muted light.

  ‘It was no bother; it was a nice afternoon out. I enjoyed myself.’

  ‘You’re a very kind man.’

  ‘Ah, no more so than anyone else.’

  ‘No, that’s not true. The way you are with Constance its lovely and gifting her that painting, well, I think that was the highlight of her year.’ She didn’t add that the way he waited around outside the pub late at night to walk her home was sweet too.

  ‘She reminds me of my nan; she was a proud lady too. I miss her. It’s a funny thing when someone you’ve been close to all your life is suddenly just not there anymore.’

  Isabel didn’t have much experience of that, and so she stayed silent.

  He nodded before saying, ‘I can see her in you too.’

  ‘Your gran or Constance?’ Isabel wasn’t sure she liked the direction this conversation was going in.

  ‘Constance,’ he shrugged, ‘how can I word it? You’re both like these colourful, vibrant butterflies.’

  ‘Oh.’ Isabel didn’t know what to say, it was such a lovely sentiment. As they rounded the bend onto the Esplanade, she looked up and saw a carpet of stars over the Solent. ‘Do you fancy walking for a bit? It’s so quiet, and I love the sound of the water when the tide is in. My brain’s been whirring away at 100 miles a minute this evening, and I find the sound of the sea relaxing. I once fell asleep at the end of a yoga class my friend, Helena dragged me along to in Melbourne when they played beach music at the end.’

  Rhodri laughed. ‘I hope you didn’t snore, and why not, it’s a nice night for a walk, almost tropical.’

  ‘That’s taking things a tad too far.’

  They walked in silence for a bit with no noise other than their footsteps and the shushing waves below them.

  ‘Rhodri, Constance told me she had a son today.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t know she had a child.’

  ‘I didn’t either, and it’s rather a sad, long and complicated tale which isn’t mine to share, but her son was adopted when he was barely a week old. That’s the last time she saw him. She said not a day goes by even now that she doesn’t think about him and each year on his birthday she lights a candle for him.’

  ‘I’d imagine giving up your baby is something you’d learn to live with but would never get over.’

  Isabel mulled his words over; they were an echo of what had been on her mind since hearing Constance’s story. ‘The thing is Rhodri, as I listened to her talk about what it was like for her to adopt her baby out it dawned on me that maybe I’ve been selfish.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I’ve only ever thought about being adopted from my perspective. I never considered how my birth mother might have felt all these years. I mean, I felt grateful to her for having me and that I got such great parents but I never went any deeper than that. I suppose I thought she would have just moved on with her life. But now, after listening to Constance and seeing how giving her baby up has shaped her life, I can’t stop wondering about her.’

  ‘Maybe you weren’t ready to try and find her before.’

  ‘I don’t know if I am now. I’d have to ask mum for my records and think about it—how would she and dad feel about me suddenly announcing I’d like to try and find my birth mother. It just feels so disloyal.’

  Rhodri stopped walking and sat down on the seawall. ‘Isabel, do you love your parents?’

  ‘Yes, of course, I do. They’re my mum and dad, and if I’m honest, I even love that bloody corgi.’

  ‘Well, then that’s all you need to say to them.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Don’t over think it. Just because you’re expressing an interest in finding your biological mother does not mean you are going to stop loving your parents suddenly. We human beings have a great capacity for love. Even if they do feel a bit unnerved initially they’ll get their heads around the idea and understand it’s natural for you to have a curiosity to find out more about where you come from.’

  ‘I could have a brother or a sister or both.’

  ‘Yeah, you could.’

  Isabel began chewing on her nail. ‘She might not want me to contact her. For all, I know she could have a life that I won’t fit into, and my file might be permanently closed.’

  ‘And she might have spent the last twenty-six years wondering how you’re life is turning out.’

  ‘What if she’s dead?’

  ‘Then at least you’ll know.’

  ‘Oh God, Rhodri, what if she’s awful? She could be a criminal or, oh, and this would be worse, on some reality TV show, anything—for all I know.’

  ‘Isabel, stop it. She won’t be.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Isabel paused in her pacing.

  ‘Because she had you.’

  Isabel looked at him, and for a moment she thought he might lean forward and pull her toward him, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood up and said, ‘Come on. Let's head back. It's getting late, and I want to get up early. The end is in sight for the painting I’ve been working on.’

  Isabel felt vaguely disappointed as she followed his lead back to Pier View House.

  Chapter 43

  ‘Morning Constance, how are you today?’

  ‘I’m perfectly fine, Isabel.’

  ‘I bought you a wagon wheel and a packet of Maltesers.’ Isabel handed her the paper bag and sat down opposite her at her table in the tranquil Oceania lounge. ‘You don’t happen to know off hand of something that’s helpful for varicose veins do you? Brenda’s bunions are better, but her veins are playing up now.’

  ‘Two teaspoons of apple cider vinegar diluted in water sipped twice a day will help. As will soaking a cloth in witch hazel. If she applies the cloth to the affected veins several times a day, it will help ease them so long as she keeps it up. It can take a month or two to feel the benefits from it. How’s your little skin complaint these days? I haven’t noticed you scratching of late.’

  She was a marvel, Isabel thought storing the information away. ‘I shall pass it on, thanks, and my eczema has cleared up with the horsetail tea and honey treatment. Touch wood—’ she tapped the table. ‘I haven’t had a flare-up since.’ The scene outside today was a moody mix of greys, Isabel saw turning her gaze to the picture window and watching what looked like fine rain beginning to drift in from the sea.
‘I hope that wind doesn’t get up. Mum’s coming over this afternoon, and she can go a bit green around the gills on boats at the best of times. I’ll bring her to see you, shall I?’

  ‘That would be nice. Is she bringing my little friend?’

  ‘I bloody hope not.’

  ‘Oh, Isabel, he’s a lovely little chap.’

  ‘You wouldn’t say that if it was your leg he took a shine to on a regular basis.’

  Constance’s mouth twitched, and she took a bite of her biscuit eyeing Isabel speculatively for a moment. ‘I have a proposition of sorts for you.’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Isabel raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Pour yourself a cup of tea first.’

  That Walter fellow was right, Isabel thought, spying him across the room. He was reclining on a two-seater with a book, looking like an old-time movie star and she waved over. Constance was dramatic. She’d have done well in the theatre biz.

  ‘Don’t encourage him.’

  ‘Why not? I think he’s very dashing.’

  Constance flushed beneath her powdered cheeks. ‘Just pour your tea and stop fraternizing with the menfolk young lady.’

  Isabel grinned and did as she was told. Stirring the milk in she said, ‘Right, what’s this proposition of yours then?’

  ‘I want you to have Molly’s journal.’

  Isabel gasped and nearly dropped her teacup. She hadn’t expected that.

  ‘I want you to cherish it as I have, Isabel, and to look after it—keep it safe. When the time comes as it has for me, I want you to find the right person to pass it on to. You’ll know who, just like I do.’

  ‘Wow, thank you, Constance; I’m honoured.’ Isabel breathed, but Constance held her hand up.

  ‘My passing on her journal to you comes with a condition. There’s something I want you to do.’

  ‘What’s that then?’

  ‘Isabel Stark, you have a gift, and its time you acknowledged it. You need to stop being frightened of trying to become the best you can be. Life, my dear is too short for procrastination. Take that from someone who has reached the other end, and knows. With that said, I want you to look into taking your interest in natural healing further—get a qualification. The days of being self-taught like I was, with a little help from Molly, of course, are long since gone.’