by Fern Britton
Rosemary’s face fell. ‘You’re not coming, are you.’
‘I can’t.’ Sennen began walking backwards, increasing the distance between herself and her friend. ‘Go. Be happy. I’m fine. Thank you.’ Sennen turned and began running.
Rosemary shouted, ‘Sennnen! Sennnnnneeeeeen.’
But Sennen didn’t stop.
It was cold when the ferry docked in Plymouth. Rosemary stood on deck, watching the coast grow closer until she could see the red and white stripes of Smeaton’s Tower sitting on the Hoe. She was shivering.
As soon as she disembarked she went to the first phone box she could see. She rang the operator and asked to reverse the charges to a number in Trevay. She heard her mother’s worried voice accept the call and cried with sheer relief. She promised to stay right where she was until the police arrived to take her home.
They were kind and gentle to her, offering tea and a bacon roll in a Happy Eater, en route.
She said no, but would they please take her to Sennen’s parents first, as she had a special present and a message to give them.
Adela opened the door and gave a shocked shriek. Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide.
‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Tallon. I’m so sorry,’ said Rosemary stepping forward.
‘Where’s Sennen?’ Adela came out of the front door and looked around to see if Sennen was hiding. Ready to jump out.
‘She’s not here. She’s not coming back.’
Henry and Ella came to the door, Bill behind them. ‘Rosemary? Where’s Sennen?’
Rosemary pulled the toys from her pocket. ‘She gave me these to give to the children.’
‘But she couldn’t bring them herself?’ said Bill, stiffly.
‘She wants you to know she’s okay,’ Rosemary told him.
‘Thank you,’ said Bill to the police officers standing behind Rosemary. ‘Please take Rosemary home.’
Rosemary held the toys out to Ella and Henry. ‘These are from your mummy.’
The children came forward shyly and took them.
‘What do you say?’ whispered Adela automatically.
Henry said, ‘Thank you. Where Mummy?’
Before Rosemary could answer, Bill took her elbow and turned her towards the gate.
‘I think you’d better get home to your family. They’ve been worried. I’m glad you are home.’
‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Tallon, I really am,’ Rosemary tried to say, but she was crying with fear now. ‘I tried to get her to come back.’
One of the two police officers took Rosemary’s arm and led her to the car. His colleague hung back and said, ‘I’m sorry we are not bringing your daughter to you this time. We will be questioning Rosemary and will tell you all we know as soon as we can.’
‘Understood,’ said Bill formally. ‘Thank you.’
And he closed the door on them.
9
Bill was struggling to keep the anger and grief that burned in him from destroying the careful balance of the fragile reality that he and Adela had fought to create for Henry and Ella.
Adela was fussing with the children. Henry was questioning her.
‘Where Mummy? She come home?’
‘Not yet, darling, but she sent you these lovely toys.’ She heard the front door close and watched as Bill’s familiar shape walked away from the house.
‘Not like dragons.’ Henry bent down to Ella who was swinging her pink horse by the tail. ‘You like your horsey, Ella? It from Mummy.’
Adela’s tears flowed and she hurriedly looked away so that the children didn’t witness them. ‘Well, I think I’ll get us all a nice drink. Who wants a biscuit?’
Rosemary’s parents came over the next day, but their happiness at having their daughter home and their guilt that Bill and Adela didn’t made the meeting uncomfortable to the point of being unbearable.
The police passed on the little information Rosemary had given them and the Santander police could only confirm that Sennen had left the area, leaving her job and her accommodation.
Adela kept a watchful eye on the effect all this was having on Henry and Ella. Ella seemed fine but Henry’s sadness at his mother not being there had become an anger in him. The easy-going toddler was replaced with a child who shouted when crossed and slammed doors with fury.
Adela buried herself in caring for her grandchildren, while Bill spent more time walking by himself or immersing himself in his work.
A month or so later, Adela came home from a walk with the children and caught him searching in the cupboard under the stairs.
Stepping over the vacuum cleaner, a box of old jigsaws and all the general detritus of many households, she asked him, ‘Darling, what are you up to? Can I help?’
He backed out of the awkward space, his back bent and a cobweb in his hair.
‘Where are the photo albums?’
Henry charged past them and disappeared into the back of the cupboard. Ella toddled in after him and a row started immediately.
‘Out, Ella. This my camp.’
Adela was glad of the interruption. She knew exactly where the photo albums were and they were not in the cupboard. She had been so agitated about Sennen running away that she’d hidden them in the loft. Some instinct told her that they would be too distressing for Bill to look through while his grief was so raw.
‘Henry, can’t Ella join you in there? There’s plenty of room.’
‘No!’ Henry shouted from the darkness. Ella began a high-pitched wailing.
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Bill went back into the cupboard and pulled Ella out, kicking.
‘Don’t kick Poppa, please.’ Adela held her arms out to Ella and Bill passed her to him.
‘Just like her mother. Always wanting her own way.’ He was getting angrier.
Adela decided to do the right thing. ‘The albums are in the attic. Behind the suitcases.’
‘Well, who the bloody hell put them up there?’ Adela didn’t need to answer. He had already stomped off to get the stepladder.
Left with Ella crying in her arms and Henry making monster noises from the back of the cupboard, she felt like screaming herself.
But she didn’t.
She took a deep breath, coaxed Henry from his camp, and gave both children some milk in their sippy cups and fairy cakes.
Later, with the children ensconced in front of Top Cat on the television, she found Bill sitting on an old suitcase in the attic, going through all the photo albums. She sat with him and looked as he turned each page.
Sennen as a baby in her cot bought with Green Shield stamps.
Sennen learning to swim, rubber ring around her, Bill holding her up.
Sennen on her first day at school standing grimly next to her satchel.
Sennen looking so young and yet so tired holding a newborn Henry.
Sennen pushing the old pram. ‘Is that Henry or Ella in there?’ Adela asked over Bill’s shoulder.
‘Henry,’ said Bill softly. ‘Look at that mop of hair.’ He turned another page.
Sennen pregnant, with Henry on her hip.
Sennen with a tiny Ella on her lap and Henry leaning in to say hello to his baby sister.
‘Why are we looking at these now?’ asked Adela, sensing Bill’s rising anger and his deep, deep sadness.
‘I wanted one more look before I burned them,’ he said.
‘What? No!’
‘Yes. If Ella and Henry are to have a good life, a full life without this gaping hole where their mother should be, I am going to have to fill it in.’
‘Bill, don’t. They should know what she looked like. You already took down all the photos we had of her. Please … Let’s just keep these in the attic. Forget about them that way.’
‘She’s broken my heart.’ He bent his head to his chest. ‘I miss her too much. I can’t bear having her here, but not here, any longer.’
Adela put her arm around him and pulled his head onto her shoulder. He started to cry. More tears than she
had ever seen him cry before.
‘She’ll be back one day, I’m sure of it,’ she said softly.
But Bill built a fire in his kiln and put each album on to it and watched as they burned to ashes.
Sennen was gone.
10
Pendruggan, 2018
Ella jumped off the sofa with excitement and threw her arms around Kit. ‘That was Henry on the phone. He wants to meet our mum after all.’
‘Careful!’ Kit balanced the two mugs of coffee in his hands. ‘What changed his mind?’
Ella took the cup he offered her and got herself comfy on the sofa, her feet under her. ‘I’m not sure, but he said he wanted to meet her to show her exactly what she’d missed all these years.’
Kit sipped his coffee. ‘Good. I thought he’d be harsher than that.’
‘Well, and to tell her to her face what he thinks of her.’
‘Oh.’
Ella wasn’t bothered. ‘I don’t care! We are going to see our mum and I won’t feel like an orphan any longer.’
‘Is that how you’ve felt?’
‘Yes, now I come to think about it. All those times at school: concerts, plays, art shows. No mum or dad like my mates.’ She picked at the buttons on her cardigan. ‘Granny and Poppa were amazing, but they were Granny and Poppa. Not Mum and Dad.’ She stopped fiddling with the buttons and looked at Kit. ‘Do you think she’ll tell us who our dad is?’
‘Do you want to know?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, ask her.’
‘I’ll wait and see. Test the water. I can’t just spring it on her.’ She laughed. ‘One parent at a time is best, don’t you think?’
Henry, with a rather thick head, rang the solicitor’s office the next morning. He asked to speak to the senior partner, Mr Penhaligon, an elderly man who had been his grandparents lawyer for decades.
‘I’m sorry, but Mr Penhaligon is not in the office today. He hasn’t been well and has handed all his clients to Miss Palmer. Would you like to speak to her?’
Henry waited while she connected him. A young, efficient female voice came on the line.
‘Mr Tallon?’
‘Yes, good morning. I don’t know how much you know about my family history but …’
‘Mr Penhaligon has passed me your files and I am as up to speed as I can be. I am aware your mother wishes to meet you and you are reluctant to do so?’
‘Well, I was, but having thought about it, I would like to meet her. Yes.’
‘Excellent. I shall let her know. Where would you like to meet? Here? In our Trevay office? Or do you have somewhere else in mind?’
‘Your office would be a good neutral place I think.’
‘Exactly so.’
‘And my sister only lives in Pendruggan, so it’ll be easy for her to get there too.’
‘Good. Well, I shall phone your mother today and ask her to make her travel arrangements.’
‘As soon as possible, please.’ Henry chewed his lip. ‘Has she far to travel?’
‘I am not at liberty to tell you where she is located.’
‘Oh. Is she in the UK?’
‘No, she is not.’
Sennen felt sick with anxiety. Who was she doing this for? Her parents? Her children? Or was the reason more selfish? For herself?
Why would Henry and Ella want to meet her after all this time? She had proved herself to be unreliable, feckless and worthless. She paced around her simple hotel room, the whirring breeze of the ceiling fan neither doing anything to cut through the heat, nor helping her thoughts speed around more quickly. Why did she want to see them so much? To ingratiate herself? To show them that she was a decent person? The sort of person who wouldn’t walk out on her two children unless she had very good reason?
And what had been her reason? Really, there was none. She couldn’t cope. That was the bottom line. She couldn’t cope and didn’t want to cope. The truth was as basic as that.
Her mobile phone rang. She scrambled in her handbag.
‘Kafir?’ Her husband.
He was brief. ‘Have you heard anything?’
‘Not yet.’ She hugged the phone to her ear, imagining the feel of his beard on her face. Softly she asked, ‘How are you?’
‘How do you think?’ he said tersely.
She shrank into herself, hungry for his forgiveness. ‘I’m sorry. I know I should have told you.’
He paused, then murmured, ‘Yes, you should.’
‘Please, Kafir. Please don’t.’ She lay flat on her hotel bed wretchedly pressing the phone ever harder to her ear, the pain of it stopping her tears. ‘I know I have hurt you, but please, please don’t push me away.’ Her voice faltered.
Kafir was silent. She imagined him pulling at his beard the way he did when he was angry. Eventually he said, ‘Go and find your English family. You have much work to do.’
‘Yes.’ The enormity of her mistake crushed her.
‘But …’ said Kafir.
‘Yes?’
‘Let me know how it goes.’
‘Thank you, Kafir. That means so much … Kafir?’
But he was gone.
She rolled her face into the pillow and gave way to helpless tears. She had to atone for her past, face who she had been when she walked away from her parents and two helpless babies. Had the girl she had been gone? What scared her most was, that in trying to finally to face her past, she could end up destroying another family. Was she now turning her back on them?
The phone by her bed rang. Wiping her eyes, she picked up and croaked, ‘Hello?’
‘Mrs Tallon-Kaur? It’s Deborah Palmer. Your solicitor in Trevay?’
Sennen sat up, alert. ‘Yes?’
‘I have good news. I have just heard from your son and daughter – and they have both agreed to meet you here in Cornwall. When shall I say you will arrive?
11
Ella was literally singing with happiness. She couldn’t sit still and bounced up the stairs to find Kit. He was in his small painting studio, working on a canvas of a grumpy cat for its besotted owner. The skylights above poured bright sunshine onto the cat’s ginger pelt and whiskers.
‘Very handsome,’ Ella said.
He looked up, brush between his teeth, turps rag in his hands.
‘Hiya,’ he said, speaking like a ventriloquist. ‘What do you think?’
‘Lovely.’ She ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek. ‘Today, everything is lovely.’
Kit took the brush from his mouth. ‘Is this anything to do with your mother?’ he smiled.
‘I’m so excited.’ She squeezed him. ‘Can you imagine what this is like for me? For all these years I’ve wondered about her. Where was she? Did she think about me? Was she dead? Was she happy? Was she in a nunnery? And now I know she’ll be here. Soon. And I shall be able to see her face. Hear her voice.’ She sat down on the little stool next to Kit. ‘Do you think she’ll like me?’
Kit pulled a face. ‘Seriously? Darling, she’s going to love you.’
‘God, I hope so. And I hope Henry isn’t too hard on her. He’s so angry.’
‘He’ll come around.’
Ella frowned. ‘He’d better. I don’t want him messing this up.’ She jumped up and skipped around the room. ‘I am so bloody happy! And a bit scared and … Oh, I don’t know. A bit of everything.’
‘Do we know when she’s coming?’
‘Not yet. The solicitor is sorting it.’ She stood behind Kit with her arms around his waist and began to nibble his ear.
‘Are you trying to distract me?’ he said.
‘Yes.’
‘It’s working.’ He closed his eyes enjoying her light kisses. ‘We do have the house to ourselves,’ he breathed softly.
‘What are you suggesting?’ she murmured, her warm breath tickling his neck.
‘I was thinking …’
‘Hmm?’
‘We could take the dogs for a walk?’ He twisted in his seat and took her face in both
hands and kissed her. ‘Or, they can wait a bit …’
When they finally came downstairs, Celia and Terry were waiting for them. Terry’s long feathery tail wagged as excitedly as an aloof Afghan hound allows itself to get, and Celia got to her feet languidly and strolled to the back door.
Out on the cliffs the dogs pulled at their leads, eager to investigate any fresh new smells and unleash the energy in their legs. ‘Off you go, then,’ said Kit to them, ‘and don’t forget to come back.’
They took off like rockets, leaping over the gorse bushes and tamarisk, full of the sheer joy of being alive.
Ella laughed into the wind as it hit her face and blew her hair into her eyes. ‘They are as happy as I feel.’ She held her arms out and twirled and jumped across the soft grass path.
Kit was happy for her: she so deserved to be happy. She knew nothing about her parents or what they looked like, she might never know who her father was, but now she was on the brink of finding out who she really was.
A stab of anxiety made his stomach knot. There was every chance that this longed-for meeting may turn out painfully.
He caught her hand and pulled her to him. ‘I’ll always be there for you. You know that, don’t you?’
She stopped dancing and looked at him. ‘Will you really?’
He nodded.
She kissed him, and they walked along watching the waving flags of the dogs’ tails as they explored every bush.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ said Kit. ‘Maybe the solicitor’s office would be too formal a place to meet your mother, and Marguerite Cottage a bit too emotional.’
Ella scooped her hair out of her eyes. ‘In case it goes badly?’
Kit scratched his cheek and looked at his feet. ‘I’m not saying it will go wrong, but maybe neutral ground?’
Ella saw the truth of what he was saying. ‘But where?’
‘Let’s have a think. Something will come to mind.’
‘We’ll talk to Henry,’ said Ella, ‘We need to agree together.’
They began to walk on again. Ella rather solemn and thoughtful.
‘I’d like to be there too,’ said Kit. ‘If you would like me to?’