by Liz Fenwick
Gabe nodded and stumbled on wobbly legs to the phone to pick up the handset. ‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Gabe, it’s Hannah.’
Gabe grinned. ‘Hi.’
‘I’m just calling to check on you.’
She was touched by Hannah’s concern. She didn’t think she’d have been so sensitive to others at seventeen. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’ll be there on Friday. I’ve taken the day off school. I want to be there for you.’
Gabe blinked. ‘You don’t need to do that.’
‘Yes, I do. You were there for me.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I’ll be there early to help with anything. See you then. Bye.’
Gabe put the phone down. Friday. It would be the end. There would be a funeral mass, then Jaunty would be cremated. Only the loose threads of probate would remain to be tied up. A life finished and somehow Gabe must move forward. She brushed her hand against her eyes.
Fin reached out and touched her. ‘OK?’
She jumped. When had he appeared in front of her? ‘Yes, that was Hannah. She’ll be at the service.’
‘Good. Dinner’s ready.’ He held out his hand and Gabe took it. Reassurance and excitement mixed in the clasp.
‘How was London?’
Fin glanced at her, then looked away. ‘Fine.’ He walked to the kitchen. Gabe studied his back. She might be imagining things but his shoulders looked rigid. Something was troubling him. He came back to the table with a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes.
‘Sure?’
‘Well, not really.’ He sighed. ‘It’s complicated, but a painting that sold through my old business may be a fraud and it’s becoming messy.’ He sat down and reached for the wine.
‘Doesn’t sound good.’
‘Not good on many fronts but mainly because I have to deal with Patricia.’
Gabe touched his hand as it worried the edge of the table.
He looked up. His eyes were dark and thoughtful. ‘I wasn’t in London the whole time. I went to visit my mother to see if she had heard my grandmother mention anything about Jaunty or Jeanette as she really was.’
Gabe straightened in her chair. Had he told his mother Jaunty’s secret? ‘And?’
‘No, she didn’t but I went through some of my grandmother’s papers and found some letters exchanged between them.’
‘Yes?’
‘Nothing exciting, I’m afraid, but Jaunty – Jeanette – did spend time with them as she mentioned.’
‘Was there anything from your uncle?’
‘No paperwork.’ Fin paused and poured the wine. ‘I have a painting, though.’ He looked at her briefly, then served the lamb tagine.
‘A painting?’
He nodded.
‘Your great-uncle was a painter too?’
‘No. When my grandmother died she, among other things, left me a painting that belonged to Alex. She’d known how important it was to him and I’d always reminded her of him.’
Fin stood and collected a briefcase Gabe hadn’t noticed by the wall. He pulled out a clear protective sleeve and handed it to Gabe. It held an unframed watercolour on heavy paper.
‘Oh.’ Blood drained from her and she felt a chill. It was Jaunty’s work without a doubt. She turned it over and there, in Jaunty’s writing, was her declaration of love – but the signature was different. It read Jeanette. If there had been any lingering doubts in her mind, they were gone.
Morning light slipped in through a gap in the curtains. Gabe snuggled closer to Fin. She had slept so soundly, the best she had in ages. This must be what contentment felt like. It was magic. Fin’s chest rose and fell with his breathing. She had missed this while he was away. Could it really only have been a month since he had turned up on Bosworgy’s quay? The light caught his morning stubble and her fingers itched to touch his cheeks, every part of him, but she didn’t want to wake him just yet. For the moment she enjoyed studying his eyelashes resting on his cheek. She swallowed. Her glance strayed to his mouth, which smiled slightly. How could she ever have thought him a stranger or a threat? Jaunty had been right to invite him into their lives. Had Jaunty known that Gabe would fall for him? Or had Jaunty just enjoyed the rekindling of her memories of Alex.
After tomorrow was over Gabe would talk to a lawyer about Jaunty’s revelations and see how she should proceed with what she knew, and also how to handle the body of work that wasn’t Jaunty but Jeanette. Fin murmured in his sleep and Gabe tried to listen, wondering what he was dreaming of.
He moved and his arms pulled her closer to him and he nuzzled her ear.
‘Morning.’
Chills went done her spine. ‘It’s good to have you back.’
‘Hmmm.’ He planted light kisses down her neck and Gabe closed her eyes. ‘I missed you.’
‘So you said last night.’
He trailed a finger across her breast. ‘You don’t know how much.’
‘Show me.’ Gabe ran a hand over his hip.
‘With pleasure,’ he whispered as he rolled over.
They set off from the cabin hand in hand. The sun had set but the sky was still light and tinged with pink as they walked along the track, hopping over puddles and laughing. Her head was spinning from all the final arrangements for tomorrow; hymns, orders of service, the readings, the priest, the vicar, the undertakers, the reception in the village hall afterwards. She had jumped at Fin’s suggestion of dinner down at the pub. She was dreading tomorrow and the final goodbye, yet longing for it to be all over. The urge to begin again was strong. She stole a glance at Fin. She knew he was a huge part of that desire. Desire. She smiled, remembering this morning before the phone had begun ringing and all the world seemed to want to talk to them both. Fin had spent the best part of the day pacing by the car where he had the best phone reception. Now, he was looking out over the fields to Falmouth Bay. His expression was thoughtful, almost sad. Three jackdaws sat on the telephone wire watching them as she and Fin moved along. She shivered.
‘OK?’ He turned to her with a lopsided smile.
She nodded and kissed his cheek. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to his side as they turned down the lane to Penarvon Cove. It was darker under the cover of the trees and Gabe squinted until she adjusted to the lower light. She touched the torch in her jacket pocket. It wasn’t needed yet.
Fin’s phone rang and as he took the call he stepped away from her. She assumed it was the painting crisis. She half listened to his curt greeting and talk of a painting before he lost signal. She knew so little about his life, but then that was something she could look forward to learning about.
Just as they arrived at the Shipwrights, Fin’s phone rang again. Gabe left him standing outside and stood inside the outer door out of the light rain that had begun to fall.
‘Frenchman’s Creek. It’s an unusual and unique early painting.’ Fin’s voice was drifting away. ‘There is a long story.’
He was going to sell Jaunty’s painting! Gabe froze and listened carefully to what else she could hear. Fin’s motives were now clear: money.
Mist hung over the creek. The sky was a pale blue above it so it should clear by eleven. Gabe stood by the window and adjusted her dress. She could do this. Fin’s motives for coming here in the first place didn’t matter. She’d never asked him but maybe he’d wanted to find the location of the painting, and he had. It was a bonus for him that he discovered the artist too. He was clever and quickly put things together – it was his work – and Jaunty had known what he did and she hadn’t worried. So there was no reason for Gabe to feel so angry. It didn’t matter now. She was being ridiculous.
Wiping her palms on a teatowel, she tried to shake the feeling that Jaunty’s story and the painting could change Fin’s fortunes. It could instantly rebuild his career after his ex-wife had stripped
it from him, because Jaunty’s story would put him on the front page and that early painting would make him a mint. He could begin again if that was what he wanted.
Gabe swallowed. She would not think about it today. Today was about Jaunty, the Jaunty this community knew. It was about saying farewell. Today Gabe would sing for Jaunty one last time, then she must begin to work again to pay the bills. Life had to continue and Fin would leave after today, that was inevitable. It was OK. And she was too.
‘Do you want anything to eat?’ Fin walked into the cabin.
‘No, thanks.’ Instead of falling into his arms last night, Gabe had crawled into bed alone. She had been quiet all through their meal and Fin had expressed concern, but Gabe had said it was worries about the funeral. She wanted to scream that he’d betrayed her and Jaunty. But she hadn’t. He was human. He needed money and Jaunty’s painting would get some for him. She would call the solicitor first thing on Monday and discuss how to go about telling the truth to the world.
But right now just hearing his voice sent shivers of memory across her skin. Last night, when she had heard the door close behind him, she’d let the tears fall. But it was fine. He had helped her to break down the walls, and though she was now open, exposed and very cold, it really was fine. Because she was fully alive again.
‘It will be a long morning on an empty stomach.’ He reached a hand towards her and she pulled back.
‘True, but I can’t face food.’ She turned. He was so close and the scent of his aftershave, the freshness of citrus, hung in the space that separated them.
‘Shall we leave?’ she asked.
‘There’s still time.’ His hands clenched and unclenched.
Gabe shook her head. There wasn’t time. Their time had finished and she needed to get through today and get beyond him. The next phase of her life needed to begin. Jaunty had survived and so could she.
She looked up into his eyes and that was a mistake. His concern showed he cared and she didn’t want to think about that. It was easier if she thought him mercenary. She stepped aside and grabbed her coat and bag. The sooner she began, the sooner she could rebuild.
Gabe drove in silence through the lanes towards St Anthony’s. The mist had cleared over Falmouth Bay and it was a perfect October day. She took the turning above the graveyard. At a later point she would have Jaunty’s ashes interred with her parents in Manaccan graveyard, although she really wanted to spread them across the water near the Isles of Scilly so that Jaunty could be one with the sea and with her Alex. Gabe turned the car into a space between boats laid up for the winter. She hadn’t said a word to Fin on the whole journey. She would deal with him after today was over. Now she scurried down to the church, not waiting for him to catch up with her. As she turned the corner, she saw the sailing boats beached for the winter. What had become of Fin’s boat, Jezebel, that Jaunty had sailed with Alex? Gabe was sure it was the same boat, remembering how Jaunty had reacted, the emotion that had been in her voice when she’d said the name. Fin hadn’t mentioned it. She shook her head. She had many more important things to think about.
As she slipped in to the porch she saw a flash of light and heard the sound of a digital camera click, but when she turned she only saw Fin behind her. She must be imagining things. Or maybe it was Mrs Bates’s nephew from the local paper. Gabe hadn’t really thought about it when she’d said yes, but she supposed Jaunty was something of a local celebrity.
Hannah was straightening the piles of the order of service when Gabe entered the church. She looked lovely in a navy dress, her blonde hair sleek and shining. She rushed over to hug Gabe.
‘You OK?’
Gabe nodded, noting that Max was already sitting at the organ. ‘Morning,’ he said.
‘Hi.’
‘Shall we have a quick run through? Father Tim is already here. He’s chatting with the vicar in the vestry.’
Gabe moved to the side of the organ. The acid in her empty stomach roiled. She didn’t have to do this, just the music alone would be beautiful. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mrs Bates topping up the water in the flower arrangements, and she had helpfully organised for tea and coffee to be served in the village hall after the service as well. Gabe would stop in there briefly before going to the crematorium in Truro. The undertaker had told her there was no need for her to go, but Gabe felt she had to be with Jaunty on this last trip. It was her final journey and Gabe didn’t want her to do it with only strangers for company.
‘Let’s run through the Schubert once more.’ Max gave her hand a squeeze.
Gabe nodded. The opening notes of the music began and she sang despite hearing the heavy wooden door open close behind her. When she had finished, a tap on her shoulder made her shake.
‘Sorry to trouble you, miss. We’re all set. Your grandmother is here.’
Gabe swung round even though she knew Jaunty wasn’t here any more.
‘The coffin is outside.’
‘Thank you. Do you need anything else from me?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘You have a beautiful voice.’ The man coloured as he said the words and Gabe smiled. The Cornish loved their singing.
‘Thank you.’
‘You take a seat in the front pew when you’re ready.’ He nodded and backed out of the church.
Gabe turned to Max. ‘I don’t need to practise “Amazing Grace”.’
‘Agreed.’ He smiled and Gabe, fiddling with the neckline of her dress, walked to the front pew. She was stunned to see the church was full. Most of the faces she knew, including the new owner of the gallery. He was already pressing her about a retrospective of Jaunty’s work. If he only knew, he wouldn’t be asking, she thought. Hannah was handing out the order of service to everyone and Gabe wondered if she’d had enough printed. On the cover was a photograph of Jaunty in her usual pose, looking into the distance. Always looking for something that was out of reach, and finally Gabe knew what that was. No wonder it had absorbed her so.
The level of discreet coughs and whispers grew. Gabe focused on the paper in her hand. Everything was organised. All she had to do was sing twice. She wasn’t speaking, only the priest would be saying a few words. The lily in the centre of the main bouquet on the altar calmed her with its scent and simplicity. Jaunty would have approved of the flowers. The lilies came from the florist but many of the other flowers were from local gardens.
The organ began with the opening of ‘Guide me, O Thou Great Jehovah’ as they brought the coffin in. Gabe turned and was stunned to feel tears prick the back of her eyes. She thought she had finished with them, but obviously not. Fin was one of the pallbearers and she recognised Mark Triggs and Mike Gear. Tamsin Polcrebar’s husband, Anthony, the local builder, and Tristan Trevillion and one of Anthony’s sons were also helping. Jaunty certainly didn’t require six men to carry her, but Gabe thought she might find it a bit amusing. Mrs Bates, in the pew behind, belted out the words to the second verse in a completely different key to everyone else, so for the final verse Gabe went to full volume and the church dropped to total silence as she held the last note. It wasn’t quite the effect she had wanted, but at least it had drowned Mrs Bates out.
Hannah squeezed into the pew to her left while Fin sat next to her on her right. Father Tim began and before she knew it Gabe was walking to the back of the church. All eyes were on her and she tried not to stumble when she saw the size of the crowd. The rear of the church was standing room only. They made space for her as she approached Max.
Everything inside her froze. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This was a small local funeral, not a memorial service for a celebrity, but the door was open and people were standing outside, trying to listen, so it made it feel that way. Max made eye contact. His expression said it all, then he put on his best conductor face as if he knew that something inside her would respond because she couldn’t let Jaunty down, couldn’t let
Maria Lucia, her great-grandmother down. Gabe blocked out the crowd and focused on the beauty of the music, let it take her over. As the last note finished the church was totally silent and Max placed his hand on her arm. Gabe didn’t dare look at him because she knew she would crack. Right now it was all too much.
The priest delivered an appropriate homily, mentioning Jaunty’s dedication to family and to work. He spoke of her lasting legacy to the art world and blissfully he kept it brief. Gabe dreaded the next bit, but without leaving the pew she began: Amazing Grace, how great though art . . .
The priest began the final blessing and Fin slipped out of the pew. Gabe felt naked without him beside her. How was she going to walk out of this church alone? Fin, with the others, took Jaunty’s coffin out of the church and Hannah took Gabe’s hand.
‘I have plenty of experience with funerals unfortunately,’ Hannah whispered in her ear. ‘My father’s and a special friend’s.’
The priest announced that there would be a small reception in Manaccan village hall, and Hannah gave her hand a squeeze as they walked down the aisle with the crowd filing out behind them. The beautiful day had disappeared in to a heavy shower and Fin threw his coat over Gabe’s shoulders and opened the back seat of the limo and helped her in. He was going to follow in Gabe’s car.
As the black car reversed out, a few people chatted in the rain and Gabe noticed the newspaper covering a little girl’s head. The headline read: ‘Acclaimed Artist Jaunty Blythe Is A Fraud’.
Twenty
Gabe was going to be sick. How had this happened? Fin. It had to be Fin! She pressed the button and the window came down, then she gulped in air as they drove up the hill to Manaccan. The car slowed in front of the hall but Gabe shook her head. She couldn’t go in and face everyone. Tamsin ran down to the car and hopped in.
‘Take us straight to my house, John,’ she said to the driver.
Tamsin turned to Gabe and took her hand. ‘I’ve seen the paper, and there’s been a bloke going round the village asking questions, so I’m taking you to ours and then we’ll sort it out.’