by Liz Fenwick
Afternoon sunlight filtered through the window and the daisies on the curtains fluttered in the breeze. It was warm, a true Indian summer, a glorious taste of what had finished. Jaunty closed her eyes. The tide was out and she could smell the mudflats and hear the call of a curlew. Time was short. She picked up her pen and wrote her last passage for Gabe.
I have lost track of where I’ve reached and I’m not sure it matters any more. A priest visited while I was in the hospital. He was a young man with earnest eyes and he reminded me of the curate who married Alex and I.
I received the last rites, although he called them the Sacrament of the Sick. Whatever had happened, I felt more at ease, as if the knot inside me had finally loosened, although I couldn’t say a word aloud. My confession is here on these pages. I stole another woman’s life, her fame and her money, and no matter how I try and justify what I have done, I can’t. It was wrong. I should have gone to my grandmother and she might have welcomed me. She was alone, after all. She had lost her husband, a son to the First World War and then my father to the Second. If I had gone to her, life would have been so different. Philip would have been heir to the Penrose family fortune and Polruan House, although not the title.
Polruan House has been so near yet so far. Here in Cornwall, yet a world away from Bosworgy, my retreat, my house above the water. I remember seeing my grandmother’s obituary. I was tempted to leave my place of security to see her in the ground, and I wondered: if she had been a bit warmer, could I have turned to her?
Gabriella, Gabriella . . . I hope you can forgive me. I thought I was protecting us all, but with hindsight I can see everything I did was wrong. Only if you sing again will it all have been worth it, for music is your birthright and I denied you the help you should have had.
I love you.
Jaunty looked up at the ceiling made of cladding. Straight lines. Life never went in straight lines, especially not hers. Jaunty could hear Gabe’s car as it moved along the track. She had gone to see Max about his opera. Gabe was singing again, singing in public. There was hope. She put the pen down and looked out on the river. A cormorant flew straight down the middle with its wings almost touching the surface. She watched until she could see it no more. She picked up her pen and a separate sheet of paper. There was one more thing she had to tell, and it was the hardest of all.
‘I’m so glad I’ve bumped in to you.’ Helen Williams put her basket down on the counter and Gabe cocked her head to one side.
‘It was lovely catching up with you the other day with Jenna and the kids.’
‘Yes, it was.’ Gabe frowned, wondering where this was going. She was eager to see Max, to share her thoughts now that she’d made up her mind to do it. She had only stopped in the shop to pick up a newspaper for Jaunty.
‘I was only saying to JC last night how lovely it was that you were back. It’s so wonderful to see the young come home.’
Gabe smiled, knowing that not many could. Her job made it possible.
‘And now that you’re back, I thought you would be the perfect person, well musician, to help Tristan with the opening of the new library at Pengarrock. You play so beautifully and you could do the music for the opening, you see.’
Gabe frowned.
‘Much better to use local people rather than bring others in.’
Mrs Bates walked in and joined them. This was her chance to escape. ‘Have Tristan call me.’ Gabe fled out of the store and down the lane before she could be drawn into anything else.
Suddenly, as she stood at Max’s door, she changed her mind. Spinning around, she had taken the step down to the path when the door opened behind her.
‘Gabe. Sorry I didn’t hear you.’ He pointed to the headphones around his neck. ‘Wonderful things but they do block the world out.’
Gabe smiled.
‘Come in. Tell me how Jaunty’s settling in.’
She walked inside. ‘I think she’s thrilled to be back home.’
‘I bet.’ Max studied her. ‘You look serious and you have my opera in your hands.’ He went to the piano.
‘Um, yes.’ Gabe put the score down with the newspaper. ‘Max, I . . .’ She stopped.
‘Out with it. You hate it.’ He squinted.
‘Absolutely not! I love it.’ She thrust her hands into her jeans pockets. ‘I think . . .’ She trailed off, trying to find the words.
‘You think what?’ He smiled. ‘You’ve seen something that could be better?’
Gabe nodded.
‘Excellent. I love a little collaboration.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Now, let me see what you’ve done.’
After the glorious day and evening of yesterday, Gabe was surprised to be woken by howling gales. A window banging in the kitchen forced her out of bed. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and dashed through the cabin to close the culprit, and her hand and arm were soaked by the time she wrestled with the wind to secure the latch.
The storm reminded her of the night she had pulled Fin from the creek. She still wasn’t sure how she had done it, but she was glad she had. How would she have managed everything recently without him? And what was it about him that transformed Jaunty? Yes, he was more than easy on the eyes, but surely that wouldn’t turn Jaunty’s head? There was something else, but Gabe couldn’t put her finger on it, especially not now when she was so sleepy. She yawned and stuck her head through Jaunty’s bedroom door to make sure all was well.
With the storm raging, Gabe listened closely for Jaunty’s breathing, but she couldn’t hear anything over the wind. She walked further into the room and all was stillness. No movement from Jaunty. With only the light from the sitting room coming in through the door, Gabe couldn’t see much, but Jaunty was smiling. Gabe wondered what she was dreaming of. Her face looked less tired, peaceful, and Gabe’s chest tightened with love. She owed so much to her.
Gabe walked up to the side of the bed, then leaned down and kissed her grandmother’s cheek. It was cold. Gabe slipped to her knees then placed her hand on Jaunty’s neck to try and find a pulse, but there was none. She pulled Jaunty into her arms and held her grandmother’s cheek against hers, and her tears wet both their faces.
Eventually Gabe placed Jaunty gently back on the bed. What should she do now? She turned on the light. A glance at the bedside clock told her it was three in the morning. She tucked Jaunty in and went through to the kitchen, jumping when there was a knock on the door. Fin!
‘I saw the light on in Jaunty’s room and wondered if the storm had woken her.’ Rain ran off his curls and down his cheeks. Gabe just stood there looking at him, and then she began to shake.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘She’s dead.’
‘When?’
‘I don’t know.’ Gabe shook her head. ‘A window blew open and woke me and I decided to check on her.’ She swallowed and blinked, trying to keep the tears at bay. She focused on a butterfly flying around the ceiling light. It was a peacock. Where had that come from? Fin held open his arms and walked towards her. Enveloped in his embrace she let the tears fall again.
Fin took Gabe’s hand as they walked into Jaunty’s bedroom. Gabe expected to see Jaunty’s eyes open, but she lay there peacefully.
‘I’ll ring her doctor in the morning and find out what’s next.’ Gabe checked once more for a pulse, even though she knew it wasn’t there. Her fingers caught on Jaunty’s necklace and she pulled out the chain and looked at the ring which hung on it. ‘I’ve never really seen this properly, although she wore it all the time,’ she said, turning the gold ring over in her hand.
‘It looks like a signet ring.’ Fin’s fingers brushed her as he touched it and then pulled back quickly.
‘What’s wrong?’ Gabe frowned.
‘It’s the Carrow crest.’
Gabe raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Carrow?’ She held it out to him.
> He twisted the ring in his fingers. ‘Carrow was my grandmother’s family.’
‘Ah . . . ’ Gabe murmured thoughtfully and looked down at her grandmother.
‘Interesting.’ He handed the ring back to her and she slipped the ring back above Jaunty’s heart.
‘Why?’
‘Well, as far as I know it was unique to them.’
‘How would she have come by it? She’s had it for as long as I can remember.’
‘Who knows?’ He shrugged. ‘It’s not important.’
The flash of lightning illuminated the trees outside and a gust of wind pushed a sheet of paper off the desk. Fin retrieved it and put it back. ‘There’s nothing we can do for the moment. Do you want a hot drink or something stronger, like Jaunty’s favourite whisky?’
Gabe’s lips twisted into a half smile. She took a deep breath, then said, ‘Make it a whisky. It would be what she would want.’ Gabe followed Fin out but stopped at the door, taking one last look at her grandmother. From Jaunty’s smile, Gabe hoped that her grandmother had died with happy thoughts. She pulled the door closed and saw the piece of paper lift on the air again. She would deal with it later.
Seventeen
Gabe stood staring out of the window, watching the sky brighten. Clouds moved across the river, bouncing light in different directions. Yesterday had been long and had gone in a bit of a blur, from Dr Winslade’s arrival in the morning to the undertakers removing Jaunty from the cabin. Gabe still couldn’t believe that Jaunty was gone. She didn’t want it to be true and all day she’d been unable to do anything she was supposed to. The handy list that the undertakers had left sat on the table. It contained helpful advice, but it didn’t say how to fill the void.
Gabe rested her head against the glass. She felt it should be raining today but it was one of the most beautiful mornings she had seen.
‘Stunning.’ Fin came up to her.
‘Yes.’ She turned to find him staring at her. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. Gabe’s heart stopped. She wanted him. She shouldn’t have these feelings now, if ever, but he leaned down and he kissed her and she didn’t move. She couldn’t.
‘She had a good life and she wanted you to have a good life too,’ he murmured, and took her hand in his.
‘True.’ Gabe looked down at the strong hand holding hers. ‘I miss her, Fin.’
‘I’d be surprised if you didn’t.’
‘I don’t know what to do.’
‘There’s no rush.’
‘True, but people are already asking about the funeral. I wish I’d asked her what she wanted.’ She looked up. ‘I don’t think she or I wanted to talk about it, but it would have made things so much easier right now.’
‘Yes, but losing someone you love is never easy.’
She nodded.
‘Hello?’ a woman’s voice called from the kitchen.
Gabe pulled away from Fin. ‘Coming.’
‘Gabe, I am so sorry for your loss.’ The postmistress was standing by the back door.
‘Thank you.’ Gabe took the post.
‘Your grandmother was such a good person.’ The woman smiled. ‘She never said much but she always wanted to know the news. She’ll be missed terribly.’
Gabe nodded, thinking of the huge, Jaunty-shaped hole in her life.
‘You’ll let me know when you’ve sorted the funeral?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thanks, and I’m off now, my lovely.’ Gabe looked at the post and then turned to the view. She couldn’t do paperwork today; she needed to move, do something positive. The climbing rose was blooming again with all the sun and rain they’d had, but it had grown so wild. Today she would tackle the garden.
In the evening Gabe handed the last of the dishes to Fin, who placed them in the dresser. ‘Thanks for your help today,’ she said.
‘A pleasure.’ He held up a hand covered with small nicks and scratches. The roses had left them both with mild injuries, but the fragrance from the bouquet on the table filled the room.
‘I feel so much better for having done the garden.’ Gabe smiled sadly and picked up her glass of wine. ‘I feel Jaunty would be pleased. She loved the roses.’
‘Jaunty loved you.’ Fin was studying her and she couldn’t make out his expression. It was if he was trying to make up his mind about something.
‘I know.’ Gabe swallowed. She looked at the paintings on the walls. ‘At least I still have part of her in her paintings. I feel these are really her.’ She ran her finger along the bottom of a frame.
‘Well, yes.’
Gabe turned to Fin, frowning. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It . . .’ He stopped and looked at the paintings.
‘Yes?’
‘Jaunty was,’ he paused, ‘a very complex person.’
Gabe pursed her mouth. ‘I don’t think so. She was straightforward and her painting is so honest. That’s why people are so moved by her work. It’s her honesty – and I’m not just saying my own feelings but those of so many art critics over the years.’ Gabe placed her hands on her hips and faced Fin. They had worked together so harmoniously today but right now she wondered if he was the same Fin.
‘Look, I’m sorry to do this.’
‘To do what?’
‘I’m honestly not sure she was right, but I promised her.’ Fin took three steps and closed the space between them, then he took her by the hand and led her into Jaunty’s room to her grandmother’s desk. From the drawer he pulled out several notebooks and sheets of paper. ‘She wanted you to have these. She was trying to put them all together the other day. For you.’
Gabe looked at the papers then at Fin. ‘What is this?’
‘Read.’
Gabe shivered as she took them from him and sank on to the bed. Jaunty’s perfume wafted up around her, and the fragrance wasn’t comforting, it was heartbreaking. She turned towards the chest of drawers and there was Jaunty’s Chanel No 5. It had always been Jaunty’s one luxury.
‘Do you know what’s in this?’ She looked up at Fin.
‘I know a little a bit, that which she told me, but I haven’t read any of this.’
‘I see.’ But Gabe didn’t see at all. Her hands shook and she put the pile beside her on the bed.
‘Shall I get you a drink?’
‘Will I need one?’
‘I think you might.’
Gabe frowned and Fin slipped out of the room. She turned a notebook over in her hand. She had seen Jaunty with this many times in the past month but had thought nothing of it. It looked no different from the notebooks she always had with her for a quick sketch to record an idea. Opening the book, Gabe leaned back against the headboard and began reading.
Gabe’s hand shook as she raised the whisky glass to her mouth and sniffed. With her legs curled under her on the sofa she watched the flames in the wood burner. Fin was in the kitchen, probably giving her space to digest what she had just read. Her grandmother was not Jaunty Blythe. Gabe looked at the paintings either side of the fire. Honesty. No wonder Fin had disagreed with her. Everything she’d read circled around in her thoughts. Fin came and sat on the end of the sofa and Gabe looked at him. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘What part?’
Gabe laughed drily. ‘Most of it.’ She shook her head. ‘First question: when did you plan to show this to me?’
Shadows fell across his eyes as he turned towards the fire. ‘Jaunty made me promise to give you everything she’d written as soon as she died.’ He turned to her. ‘She didn’t say exactly when and I will confess that I thought about not doing it.’
Gabe gasped.
‘You’ve just lost your grandmother. I didn’t think you needed to lose her again so soon.’
‘I see, but I still don’t understand.’
He sighed. �
��Your grandmother wasn’t Jaunty Blythe. She was a friend of Jaunty’s.’
‘Yes, that part was clear.’ Gabe put her fingers to her mouth, trying to find what she wanted to say. ‘I understand her not telling the world who she really was, but I don’t get her not telling me or my father.’
‘I think she was ashamed; or at least she was for a long time.’ Fin reached out and put a hand on her ankle.
‘It’s so unfair. She lost most of her life, living as someone else’ Looking at Jaunty’s painting, Gabe tried to get her head around what she had just read. Her grandmother wasn’t Jaunty Blythe, her great-grandmother was a famous Italian soprano and her grandfather was a German pianist. In a few hours everything had changed. Why hadn’t Jaunty said any of this while she was alive?
‘You looked exhausted, which isn’t surprising. Look, we can solve the rest of the puzzle tomorrow as well as working on the funeral arrangements.’
Gabe rolled her eyes. ‘But now I’m not sure what to do.’ She sighed. ‘It turns out that my grandmother was Catholic and that changes what I had thought I was doing. Maybe I need to put everything on a go-slow and talk to a priest tomorrow. I feel I should know what to do, having gone to a Catholic boarding school for years, but I guess funerals were never a big issue or one that I wanted to pay attention to.’ She frowned. ‘Because of my parents I stuck my head in the sand.’
‘Understandable.’
Gabe stood and stretched. ‘I’m going to try and sleep.’
‘Good plan.’ Fin stood.
‘Thank you for all your support.’ He really had been helpful, especially to Jaunty, who had trusted him with this information. Gabe should ask what else he knew, but she was still trying to absorb that Jaunty wasn’t Jaunty. She kissed him. ‘I can see why Jaunty liked you.’