by Linda Finlay
As ever, Freckles had been full of mischief and when, on leaving the church, Merry had put up her parasol and been showered with rice, she’d convulsed into hysterics. Chester, meanwhile, had tied tin cans to the back of Carey’s carriage. She shook her head, remembering the clattering that had followed them all the way from the village.
She’d shared her bridal spray of red roses between her mother and Jenna’s graves, and had been ecstatic when not one but two damselflies had fluttered overhead. As expected, Grozen had pooh-poohed her notion that they were her mother and friend flying free, yet Merry had seen the woman’s joyful smile as she watched them soaring and dipping their way overhead.
She stared around the bright airy room, with its comfortable furnishings, still marvelling that she should have ended up living in the home of her dreams. Carey had been surprised when she’d tentatively voiced her preference to reside here in the granite house perched high on the cliff overlooking the village.
‘But wouldn’t you rather live in Plymouth?’ he’d asked. ‘Perhaps return to your job until we are wed? It would be such a shame to waste your skills.’
She’d smiled. ‘I’d be more comfortable here. Mr Fairbright has already asked if I would continue knitting my shell-patterned jumpers for him to sell from his outlet here. He even hinted that I might oversee this operation in the future. So you see, this would be the perfect place to raise a family, and I’d be able to keep an eye on Grozen too.’
‘Well, your wish is my command, wonderful wife of mine,’ he teased. ‘As it happens, Lady Sutherland has agreed to my having a long-term tenancy on this place. I’ll remove the housekeeper and cook from Plymouth to look after us. Why not ask Grozen if she’d like to come and live here? It’s plenty big enough and will be much warmer for her too.’
‘Oh, I don’t think she’ll want to leave her cottage. Still, I can ask.’
Now, clattering from the kitchen roused her from her reverie. She could hear Grozen explaining to the cook how stargazy pie should be made. To Merry’s surprise, the older woman had jumped at the chance to move in with them.
‘Why would I want to stay in that draughty old place when I can live in comfort here with splendid coal fires to warm my bones?’ she’d muttered, conveniently forgetting her previous predilection for wood. ‘Of course, I’ll have to make sure the cook produces nourishing meals for you, especially now.’
Merry winced and ran her hand over her swollen stomach. ‘Not long now, little one,’ she sighed, easing herself into her chair and taking up her pins. Whilst the wool she was knitting with was much softer than that she used for her knit frocks, she had incorporated some of the traditional patterns into the cot cover. Sighing, she remembered the day she’d met Cador in the village. Having only just found she was expecting, she wasn’t even showing but the wizened man had stared at her with those jade eyes and told her he could see a cot blanket would be needed before long.
‘Pink will be the perfect colour, and the baby’s name won’t pose you any problem now, will it? Although, of course, if she developes a passion for rock pools, like her mother, she might also be known as the Sea Shell Girl,’ he’d grinned.
Smiling at the memory, Merry cast off the final stitch, then smoothed out the blanket on the table before her. The seeds and bars provided the perfect border for the shells she’d worked into each corner, but it was the damselfly in the middle she was really proud of. It had taken a lot of work but at last it was ready for when Karenza Jenna decided to make her appearance. And as if she knew, her baby gave another kick.
Then the door opened and her heart flipped as Carey, resplendent in his uniform, stood there grinning. Her love was home from the sea, and just in time, it would seem.
Acknowledgements
With grateful thanks to the wonderful team at Penguin. Teresa Chris for her continued support. My friends at BWC for their encouragement. The staff at Polperro Harbour Heritage Museum for answering my numerous questions and showing me their splendid Guernsey sweaters, known as knit frocks.
THE BEGINNING
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PENGUIN BOOKS
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First published 2016
Copyright © Linda Finlay, 2016
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Cover images: Girl © Maria Heyens/ Arcangel and © Stephen Mulcahey/ Trevillion Images; landscape © Ellen Rooney / Robert Harding/ Getty Images
ISBN: 978-1-405-92223-4