They held on for a few moments before Juliet pushed herself onto her feet and turned to face me with a wonderful broad smile.
‘Right then,’ she said, brightly. ‘Let’s get the party started, shall we?’
***
After knocking back a neat shot of Fenella’s Christmas Spirit and spending half an hour in the communal lounge accepting birthday cards and good wishes and wishing staff and residents a very merry Christmas, Juliet – that brave and enigmatic hero I had grown to admire and love so quickly – was duly bundled up into every warm item of clothing she owned and with a final wave to the crowd, and wearing Anna’s flying jacket and her flying boots for luck, she brushed off Yvonne’s offer of a wheelchair and walked out of Lanyon, arm in arm with her Grandson, her silk scarf the exact colour of the morning sun, blowing in the wind behind her.
Sam sat in the back of the car with Juliet while I drove to Predannack. The conversation was light and excited. The gate to the airfield was not manned, but it was locked. Sam jumped out and unlocked the gates. I took a moment to glance across to a plaque attached to a large standing stone by the entrance. It was a Second World War plaque of remembrance. It read:
This memorial honours all ranks and nationalities that served here during World War II.
While casting your eyes on this memorial, spare a thought for those who flew from here and failed to return, many have no known grave.
“Like a breath of wind, gone in a fleeting second, only the memories now remain.”
I felt my throat tighten.
Never before had a war memorial hit me so personally, the reason being, of course, that unlike a memorial in a park or on a busy town street I may have skirted past hundreds of times before, this time I knew an intimate part of the story.
Juliet had offered the Tiger Moth on long-term loan to a local flying club several years before, in the knowledge that they were the best people to care for and maintain her beloved old aircraft now that flying was beyond her, the only proviso being that she and Sam were to have unlimited access to fly whenever they liked.
Which was why, despite it being Christmas Day, grateful to Juliet (and also in complete awe of her and to celebrate her birthday) two members of the club were waiting at the hangar when we arrived. They stood proudly next to the aircraft, offering a salute to Juliet as we pulled alongside.
Sam jumped out of the car while I waited and glanced around. The airfield itself bore no resemblance to the airfield Juliet would once have known, during its wartime glory years. Most of the buildings were long gone, or had been left to rot away, and it was now nothing more than a shabby satellite landing strip – a graveyard of Nissan huts and abandoned aircraft of yesteryear.
It was a surreal moment, seeing the Tiger Moth for the first time, sitting on the concrete, the bright yellow paint shining in the winter sunshine. And she really did shine today of all days, on this most beautiful day to fly.
I slid into the back seat of the car to chat to Juliet while Sam prepared the aircraft. Juliet took a small knife out her handbag. She handed me the knife and pointed to a part of the lining.
‘Would you open it up – here – for me, please, Katherine?’
‘You want me to rip it? Why?’
‘You’ll find a little velvet pouch in the lining. It’s got a pill in it, from the war.’
Her tone was purely matter-of-fact. My eyes widened.
‘What?! But that’s …’ I couldn’t say the words.
Her voice was sure and her eyes were firm. ‘Please, Katherine … before Sam gets back.’
With tears resting on my lids I began to pick away at the stitching.
I wanted to say, ‘Don’t do this, Juliet. Let’s all get back to Angel View. We’ll have some lunch and forget all about it.’ But as I looked at her, I knew that Sam was right to not ask but to give her whatever she wanted, to let her go. And what Juliet wanted now, was to find Edward, just as she promised she would. And as I glanced up to look at Sam carrying out his final checks on the aircraft, I knew for certain that he knew what Juliet had planned, too. It was written in his body language as he spoke to the men from the club, because despite his smile, a tangible sadness echoed from every pore.
The stitching came away easily and I delved into the lining. I didn’t find the velvet pouch, not at first, but I did find something else – something smooth and cold and round. I removed it from the lining. Juliet’s hand flew to her mouth.
‘Oh, my word!’
We beamed up at each other.
‘The compass?’ I asked, knowing the answer.
Juliet nodded, holding the little gold trinket close to her chest.
‘Thank goodness,’ she whispered. ‘Thank goodness.’
Juliet opened the back of the compass, lifted out the central casing and rested it on her hand to show me the inner workings – which were lined with diamonds.
‘The Caron legacy,’ she said, closing the casing one final time. ‘Give it to Sam for me – later on.’ She opened her handbag and took out a book. ‘And give him this, too. It was Lottie’s.’
The book was Gone with the Wind. Juliet opened the back cover. Lottie’s favourite poem, Remember, had been written on the inside by Lottie, all those years before.
Juliet placed a hand on mine.
‘Better by far you should forget and smile, than that you should remember and be sad.’
I nodded my understanding and slipped the compass into my own coat pocket before glancing across at Sam. I wiped my eyes and sighed.
‘I’m just popping over the rainbow, Katherine, that’s all,’ she said, softly. ‘It’s where all my old friends are, and it’s time to join them now. And about the pill, don’t ever tell anyone you knew, that you saw it, not even Sam. I’ll just be an old woman who had a heart attack while doing the thing she loved.’
Ashen and feeling sick to my core, I nodded.
She took the jacket from its resting place on my knee and pressed her hand inside the lining. Her hand reappeared holding a little purple velvet pouch. Without looking inside, she put the pouch inside one of the jacket pockets and with a final herculean effort, put on the heavy jacket and opened the car door. She turned to me and as she did so, removed the ruby ring from her engagement finger. She handed it to me.
‘For Sam,’ she said. ‘Just in case he ever marries again.’
I nodded, unable to speak.
‘Oh, and I’ve left you a letter,’ she said. ‘It’s in my room in a box with some photographs.’
She stepped out of the car.
I jumped out of my door and rushed around the car to take her arm as she crossed the apron to the Tiger Moth. Struggling to stand and with her hand resting on the old wooden airframe, she closed her eyes and took a very deep breath. A few moments later Sam appeared by her side and she opened her eyes.
‘Time to fly?’ she asked. Sam handed her a pair of goggles and a leather flying helmet. He placed his arms around her gently, both of them seemingly never wanting to let go.
Eventually he stepped back to face her. His eyes shone with tears. ‘You’re sure you want go?’
Juliet nodded and glanced around the desolate airfield.
‘I’m sure.’
Sam lifted Juliet into the seat and tucked her up with blankets and before I could run after them and beg Juliet to change her mind, the sparkling Yellow Tiger Moth was speeding along the runway, and as I lifted my hand to cover the glare of the midday sun, I saw Juliet waving at me wildly from the front seat, her bright yellow scarf trailing behind her.
Chapter 42
Katherine
Boxing Day
A letter from Juliet
Fenella and I walked slowly along the beach in silence, trying to settle the events of the previous day in our heads, when my phone pinged.
Gerald. Had to be.
We’re back! George is still a bit weak but fine. Don’t be sad about Juliet, she was a wonderful woman who led an incredible life – a life she
wanted to be celebrated, not mourned, just in case you’re feeling low. What a way for her to go, too – flying! X
A second text came through moments later.
By the way, what decision did you come to about the apostrophe?
I turned to Fenella.
‘You look like someone just died!’ she said.
I laughed out loud and elbowed her gently in the ribs before burrowing my face in my hands.
‘It’s that bloody apostrophe. I was intending to come up with something last night, but with all the goings on after the flight, I completely forgot.’
She shrugged.
‘I told you. Forget about it. It’s not your problem. Don’t worry about it.’
My phone pinged again.
Your big speech is at five p.m. (wear something nice – and maybe a bit of lipstick?)
I showed Fenella the text.
‘I can’t let him down. Hey, I meant to ask, how did the gin go down?’
‘Oh, fabulous,’ she said, lowering herself onto a boulder. ‘I’m going to turn it into a proper concern, you know. You’d never believe what the Londoners will pay for it if you put it in a fancy glass and cover it in flavoured tonic, and I was thinking we could go into business. Me and you?’
I couldn’t believe it.
‘Really? But …’
‘If I live as long as Juliet, I’ve got loads of time left – and you never know, I may even get myself a new dog. Stay a little longer, Katherine. Enjoy yourself, get to know a few more people.’ She winked. That would be the gin again. ‘I mean, you never know what might happen. We’ll convert the back room for you into a little bedsit, if you like?’
My mouth gaped. I closed it and put an arm around her.
‘Oh, Fenella. I’d love to, but I’m not sure I’d make a very good gin distiller – or house guest. But I have been dreading going back to an empty house, truth be told.’
‘Well, forget about the gin. Why don’t you stay on for a month and we’ll see?’
I hugged her. ‘Thanks, so much Fenella. It’ll be great! Just don’t keep feeding me up all the time, or I’ll be big enough to pull a plough!’
She nodded.
‘Yes, I suppose you could do with shaving off a couple of pounds.’
We both glanced up the beach at the sudden sound of footsteps crunching on shells. Sam was walking down the beach towards us. Fenella nudged me.
‘Although, that one likes his women with a good pound of flesh on them.’
I glared at her. ‘His grandma has just died!’
‘Just saying. He’s a catch!’
A grain of sand suddenly rubbed in my shoe. I adjusted my foot to free it.
‘It’s a letter from Juliet,’ Sam said, sitting down on the rocks beside me and placing an envelope on my lap. Fenella made swift excuses to leave.
‘I got one, too,’ he said. ‘She dictated them to the night manager at the care home. I read mine this morning.’
He handed me the letter with a smile. I stared at it.
‘If I open it, I may possibly cry.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve shed buckets this morning. Open it, you won’t be disappointed.’
25 December
My dear, Katherine
It’s two a.m. and I wanted to write you a note, partly to thank you for being such a wonderful friend to me this week, but also because I’ve been thinking about the apostrophe question and I think I have the answer for you. But before that, there is something else I want to say.
You said you would have loved to ask me lots of questions, as if, because of my age, I have developed a kind of sage-like wisdom you could tap into. But I’m afraid that despite my years, I really do not feel very wise and having given it some thought I realise that I only have one piece of advice to give to you, and it was given to me by a committed coddiwompler a very long time ago – simply believe in love, my love, and everything will always be all right.
Now then, you were worried about where to put the apostrophe. Here is what I think, and it all boils down to a question of possession. I’m certain that our little cove has been visited by angels many times. Edward believed this to be the case too. But the angels never stay, they simply do their work and move on. Also, these angels don’t have wings, or harps or other such nonsense. They are nothing more than ordinary people who don’t realise they have been given little tasks to do. I have noticed over the years that quite a number of people have been drawn to Angels Cove when they needed help. And so, the cove really does belong to the angels – to lots of them. But to add an apostrophe would be to indicate ownership and I really don’t believe that angels need such a thing. It is simply a Cove of Angels as it always has been and always will be – in other words, Angels Cove. No apostrophe. I hope that helps.
The only thing left for me to say is that I hope you’ll live a life where you want nothing more than to wake up every day with an overpowering urge to have a wonderful day. You asked about Botox. Well, all I would say is to remember that the most beautiful woman in any room is the woman with the most joy in her heart, not with the fewest wrinkles on her face. Wrinkles are beautiful badges of honour – they represent all the fun and laughter and tears in your life. Iron out the lines and you iron out your life, and that is something I would never do.
With this in mind, I bequeath to you five thousand pounds. Spend the money as you wish, but my wish is that you use it to learn how to fly. The Attagirls shared a very special empowering secret – that every woman should know how to fly – there is truly nothing like it, and there is no better time for you to learn than right now.
With much love and grateful thanks,
Juliet x
Flabbergasted at the bequest, I handed the letter to Sam.
‘She was right about the apostrophe,’ he said, placing the letter back in the envelope. ‘Why don’t you read the letter out loud at the meeting this evening? Juliet was adored in the village. They’ll go along with her suggestion, I’m sure. In a way, it saves face for everyone. No one in the village will think the other side has won. It’s perfect.’
I took a very deep and relieved breath.
‘Thank you, Sam. That’s exactly what I’ll do.’
He surprised me by reaching into his pocket and taking out a velvet pouch. He opened it to show me. There was a pill inside, but time had caused it to crumble to nothing more than dust.
I gasped.
‘But …? I thought …?’
Sam shook his head.
‘I found it in her jacket this morning. She died naturally, Katherine, just as Edward said she would, and I’m almost certain it happened as we flew over the angels.’
‘That’s incredible. And I’m so pleased,’ I said. ‘It was her choice, of course, but I hated the thought of her leaving her life that way.’ I nodded towards the pouch. ‘What are you going to do with it?’
‘Most of it has disintegrated, but I’m glad you asked, because …’
He took a pair of surgical gloves out of his pocket and walked a little way into the lapping sea. He dipped his arm into the water to pick up two pebbles and crushed what was left of the pill between the two pebbes before allowing the flow of the water to wash the dust clean away.
‘I was wondering,’ he said, returning to my side further up the beach, ‘Would you like to go for a walk?’
I jumped up.
‘Where?’
‘No idea.’
‘I’d love to, but before that, I have some things for you too, from Juliet.’
We returned to the cottage. I sat by him at the kitchen table and handed him the ring box. He opened it.
‘It’s the engagement ring, from Edward. She wanted you to have it.’
Sam smiled and nodded, doing his best to hold back the tears.
‘And there are bags and bags of old twenty-pound notes, too, and a copy of Gone With the Wind – it was your grandmother’s.’
I handed him the book.
‘I wondered where th
at was,’ he said, lifting the book to smell it.
‘It has a poem in the back, written in by Lottie.’
‘Yes, I know. Remember,’ he said.
‘Exactly.’
‘But the most important gift …’ I opened an ammunition box to take out the compass. ‘Is this one.’
His face brightened.
‘The compass! You found it!’
‘It was in her flying jacket. There was never the right moment to give you any of these things yesterday, it all got so busy, after you landed, you know …’
He opened the compass to look inside.
‘She loved this old thing, not that it’s worth much, but it’s priceless to me.’
‘Not worth much … may I?’
I opened the catch the way Juliet showed me and revealed the diamonds.
Sam’s jaw dropped.
‘I had no idea …’
‘It’s your inheritance – the Caron jewels.’
***
Gerald, Percy and Noel gathered around me like expectant fathers when I arrived at the hall just before five. The hall was packed. I couldn’t for the life of me understand where all the people had appeared from, but I assumed many of the crowd must be tourists who had arrived early for the party, where they were very pleased to find Fenella peddling her newly-branded gin – The Tipsy Angel.
Gerald began the event with a quick speech in remembrance of Juliet before handing over to me, his niece, the professor. I read Juliet’s letter and concluded that Angels Cove should stay as exactly as it was – Juliet had said so, after all – and not one person argued with this hypothesis. Gerald shouted, ‘Good show, well done,’ from the back of the hall and went back to drinking gin. Talk about fickle, or storm in a teacup. I was almost disappointed at the lack of unrest.
But then the party really started and I quickly forgot about the apostrophe along with everyone else. Fenella had decked the hall proudly and her efforts were a triumph to the phrase – cheap and cheerful. The local charity shop had loaned out china cups, plates and glasses and what with pots of tea and little cakes and sandwiches, dilute squash and bunting, other than Fenella’s 1940s hairstyle, pinafore and lipstick and Percy’s wartime tailored suit, it was more like a 1970s Jubilee street party than a wartime gathering, but it didn’t matter and at least the music was bang on the money. Fenella had borrowed Juliet’s gramophone and wartime selection of records from Sam, which created the perfect ambience, and soon the children were doing the boogie-woogie to Glen Miller while their parents looked on, pissed as farts, on knock-off gin.
The Last Letter from Juliet Page 28