The Promise

by Michelle Vernal

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  ‘This is a lovely surprise. The pair of you look fabulous. I love the hair Isabel and Constance you’re outfit is just gorgeous!’ Delwyn exclaimed as Isabel filled her in on what they’d been up to. The shop was empty, and Delwyn had been in the midst of unpacking an order when the two women called.

  Constance was eager to be out of her chair; there was so much to look at in Delwyn’s shop. The days of gathering herbs down by the river banks were long gone, she thought glancing around at the laden shelves.

  ‘You picked the right day to call in. It’s always quiet on a Monday afternoon,’ Delwyn informed them. ‘I use the time to unpack my orders.’

  Isabel wandered around the shop picking up different bottles and reading the labels, Delwyn and Constance were chattering nineteen to the dozen about the herbs that grew wild on Wight and their different uses.

  ‘You still haven’t popped into the Rum Den,’ Isabel interrupted inspecting a bottle of vitamins. ‘What do you use hawthorn for?’

  ‘It’s useful for high blood pressure,’ Delwyn said. ‘And I promise I’ll pop in for a drink later in the week.’

  ‘Good. Gosh, I love this place. The fact that stuff that grows wild can potentially help people is amazing.’ It was a different language, Isabel realized. The language of plants and herbs and all their different healing purposes was fascinating.

  Delwyn and Constance smiled at each other. Isabel was a kindred spirit she just didn’t know it yet.

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  Constance arrived back at Sea Vistas worn out. It had been a wonderful day, she thought, as Isabel fussed about returning the chair. She saw her up to her room before throwing her arms around her in a spontaneous goodbye hug. Constance patted her back awkwardly realising it had been a long time since someone had hugged her. She let Isabel settle her into her chair, and as the door shut behind her, she closed her eyes enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun streaming in through the window—a little siesta was in order before dinner.

  Later, when the evening meal was done and the day was well and truly catching up on her, Jill had come to help her get ready for bed. She’d been taken aback at how well Constance looked and told her so. ‘A day out suits you. That great-niece of yours is a tonic.’ She’d winked and smiled, as she unhooked the beaded necklace from around Constance’s neck before carefully laying it down on her dressing table.

  Now as she rested her head on her pillows, Constance allowed herself a moment to reflect on the evening. She’d so enjoyed the look on the other residents’ faces as she’d staged her grand entrance at dinner time. In her batik print finery, she’d glided—glided might be a stretch—made her way across the parquet floor in her beautiful ballet flats with her head held high knowing the ball of floss atop her head was now tamed into smooth rippling waves. She’d even been accosted over her bowl of summer pudding by Jean and Iris. They were desperate to know as to where she’d gotten her dress and who’d done her hair.

  Jackie had done a marvelous job with Isabel too. She looked so pretty when she left the salon; she was a beautiful, bright butterfly that one. She wondered what Rhodri thought of her new look; she’d put money on romance being afoot there, not that either of them knew it yet. At the thought of the handsome young Rhodri, her eyes flitted over to the armchair against which the canvas Quarr rested. He’d kept his word and dropped it in. Constance was smitten with both Rhodri and his artwork and tomorrow she’d arrange for Bill, Sea Vistas’ jack of all trades, to hang the canvas for her. It had been so very generous of him, she thought as her eyes began to droop.

  Ginny, inadvertently sending Isabel to her, had brought some colour back into a world that had become rather beige, she thought, pulling the covers up until they rested under her chin. Her last thought as she drifted off was that she could rest easy now she’d found the right person to pass Molly’s journal on to.

  Chapter 33

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  Isabel strode down the Esplanade. She’d just had a cup of tea with Constance and checking her phone she saw she still had plenty of time until she was due at the Rum Den. It was such a lovely day; she’d sit down by the pier and soak up a bit of sun while she could, she decided spying a spare bench seat. She glanced down at it with a frown and wondered if an albatross was responsible for the monstrosity deposited in the middle of it. She perched to the right to avoid getting the mess on her pants and leaned back enjoying the soft breeze. It was almost balmy today, and the water was twinkling, there were far worst places to while away half an hour, she thought.

  The apple cider vinegar and cherry juice had been a resounding success, Constance had informed her cheerily that morning. She’d enjoyed her breakfast for the first time in a long while. The gout was no more, and Ronald had a new lease of life by the sounds of things. Isabel crossed her fingers upon hearing this; she hoped she wasn’t going to be asked to find a herbal equivalent for the little blue pill as Constance filled her in on how he’d taken to having a morning dip before breakfast. She was certain he timed it to cop a look at Nancy from three doors down, a sprightly figure in a one-piece swimsuit at a mere seventy-years-of-age.

  Isabel jumped as her mobile rang and with a glance at the caller display she saw it was from Don.

  Five minutes later she shoved her mobile back into her jeans pocket and got up from the seat. It seemed Molly’s remedies had procured another success with young Chloe having experienced pleasing results. Don had rung on his daughter’s behalf to place another order for more of the same insisting, however, that this time she must let him pay for it. It amused Isabel as she made her way toward Union Street that he saw her as his herb broker. Nothing was stopping him going to The Natural Way himself, but she was pleased he’d left it up to her. It gave her a reason to pop in on Delwyn and ask her how she’d enjoyed her night at the Rum Den.

  Delwyn had called in for a drink as she’d said she would, and the timing had been perfect with Rhodri propping up the bar deep in conversation with Nico. Isabel had introduced her to them, and they’d chatted for ages, all seeming to hit it off.

  ‘Hi,’ Isabel called out, stepping inside The Natural Way. The shop was empty except for Delwyn who was stood with a perplexed expression marring her pretty features over a stack of boxes. They were piled in the middle of the shop, and she looked up from them with her hands on her hips to smile a greeting.

  ‘Hey, Isabel, good timing. I was just wondering where to start with this little lot the courier’s not long dropped in. I wasn’t expecting a delivery today, and you are the perfect excuse to ignore it for a bit longer.’

  Isabel grinned back. ‘Glad to be of help.’

  ‘Are you here as friend or customer?’

  ‘Both. I’ve been asked to pick up more horsetail tea and honey, and I wanted to see if you enjoyed your night at the Rum Den. Oh, and before I forget, the apple cider vinegar and cherry juice have worked wonders on Ronald’s, from Sea Vistas, gout.’

  ‘That’s good to know, and I had a great time, thank you for introducing me properly to Rhodri and Nico. They’re a nice couple. I’m going to try my hand at a spot of pottery too. And what about you? You’ve got the beginnings of a cottage industry on the go with all your potions.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s nice to know they were successful and that I’ve helped a little girl feel better and an old man for that matter too.’

  ‘It does make you feel good when your suggestions help someone. It’s why I love what I do. Listen, since you’re here you couldn’t hold the fort for a few minutes, could you? I just want to whip out and get a bite to eat. I’m starving, and it would save putting the “Back in five minutes” sign up?’

  ‘Of course. Take a proper break. I’m not due at the Rum Den for an hour yet. I could make a start on those for you if like?’ Isabel pointed to the boxes.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ Isabel grinned, she’d enjoy reading the backs of all the different products, to see what they were for.

&n
bsp; ‘Ah, thanks, Isabel, my stomach appreciates you. If you can just unpack everything on to the trolley; it’s out the back in the storeroom, and tick it off on the invoice inside the box as you go that would be brilliant.’

  ‘I think I can manage. Go. Enjoy.’

  ‘Cheers. I’ll be back in a jiffy.’ Delwyn grabbed her tote from behind the counter and disappeared out the door.

  Isabel shoved her bag under the counter and looking up saw a face had appeared in the storefront window. She mouthed, ‘I’ll be fine,’ and waved Delwyn on her way before popping out to the storeroom to retrieve the trolley. As she pushed the door open with her backside and reversed into the shop, she heard the door jangle. She let go of the trolley and turned around expecting to see Delwyn once more having forgotten her purse or some such. Instead, a woman who looked a little like a French Resistance spy in her trench coat and beret was perusing the shelves nearest the door.

  ‘Hello, how’re you today?’ Isabel called out with a smile.

  ‘Hello, I’m good thanks, pet,’ a northern accent intoned as she turned her attention to Isabel.

  A holidaymaker then Isabel surmised.

  ‘I’m after something for my daughter’s skin. She’s had an outbreak of spots, and I want something natural to clear it up. She’s only thirteen, and I don’t like the idea of her slathering her face in chemicals.’

  ‘Fair enough too,’ Isabel said wishing she had Molly’s book to hand. She cast her mind back trying to visualise the pages. She knew her holy grail, apple cider vinegar was good; she’d been reading up on all its different uses. She was sure too she’d read something in there about dandelion tea being used to treat skin complaints. She headed over to the teas and ran her finger along the shelf until she found what she was looking for, Dandelion Tea. She glanced at the back of the box and was pleased to see she was on the right track. ‘Here we are,’ she said reading the instructions. ‘If your daughter drinks one to two teaspoons of the dandelion tea leaves steeped in hot water three times a day it will help clear her skin up. If you’ve got a sec, I’d like to look something up for you?’

  The woman smiled and nodded that she was happy to wait, so Isabel took herself out the back to the storeroom and procuring her phone Googled her apple cider query. She reappeared a tick later. ‘I just wanted to check the administration of it. Apple cider vinegar one part, to two parts water dabbed on the affected areas with cotton-wool will help too,’ she said, retrieving what was becoming her go-to remedy of choice, a bottle of the organic vinegar.

  ‘Thank you.’ The woman took both items, turning them over to glance at their respective prices before passing them back to Isabel. ‘We’ll give them a go, ta very much.’

  Isabel glanced at the counter hoping the till would be user-friendly. She rang the purchases up without any problem and even managed to navigate the EFTPOS machine, passing it over to the woman to swipe her card without any bother, thanks to having had practice at the Rum Den. As she called out a cheery goodbye and left the shop holding her The Natural Way bag, Isabel felt inordinately pleased with herself. She’d completed a successful sales transaction. Then seeing the boxes reminded herself she had a job to do.

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  By the time Delwyn breezed back in Isabel had served two more customers, unpacked both boxes, and was familiarising herself with the different products as she put the stock away.

  ‘I hope I wasn’t too long? I did rather make the most of you being here.’ She gave a sheepish grin.

  ‘I was fine. I sold a box of dandelion tea, a bottle of organic apple cider vinegar, some vitamin E tablets and a chamomile body wash.’

  ‘And you’ve unpacked and put away most of that order. Wow, well done you! It was a treat to sit down and eat and not shove something down behind the counter like I normally would. You can guarantee the shop will be dead until I have a mouthful of sarnie. Nothing like a gob full of egg sandwich to win a customer over. Thanks heaps, Isabel; you’re a star.’

  Isabel flushed at the praise and slid the bottle of maca liquid onto the gap on the shelf. ‘What’s maca liquid?’

  ‘Maca root is a superfood of the Andes, and it’s used to build up a weakened immune system. The ancient Incas were big fans—Isabel, have you ever thought about studying herbalism or naturopathy?’ The latter was blurted.

  Isabel’s hand remained in mid-air, floating beside the tub of vitamins she’d been about to pick up. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘It’s just, you have an obvious interest in natural remedies.’

  Isabel looked around the shop filled with so many weird and wonderful lotions and potions, and then back at Delwyn. A seed had been planted. ‘I didn’t know I had until I met Constance.’

  Chapter 34

  Constance wanted to go back to Quarr; it had been hers and Henry’s special place, and she needed to go there. Why? She wasn’t sure other than there, she knew she would feel close to him. She would broach it with Isabel, she told herself, twisting her necklace of beads. Perhaps she would take her to the Abbey ruins on the bus, or failing that they could share a taxi. Oh, how she missed her trusty old Morris Minor and the freedom that vehicle had given her. One didn’t appreciate one’s independence, taking it for a daily given and then suddenly poof! It was gone, just like a puff of smoke, a distant memory. She took a sip of her tea, placing the bone china cup back in the saucer.

  The thing about reaching her age, Constance mused was that she’d never really imagined what it would be like. She’d never bothered to think about the business of getting older; she was too busy getting on with the business of living. The war had made one think about life differently. It was fragile, fleeting, and so very precious. It was one’s duty to get through each day as best one could. She’d survived those fraught times when so many others hadn’t, and she had no idea why. She was nearing the final march now, but she did not intend popping off just yet.

  Death held no fear for her. In a way, it would be like going home given the plot where she’d be buried was next to her parents and Evelyn at Brading Cemetery. Molly too was there somewhere, although as the site was unmarked, no one knew where exactly. Teddy was a name on a memorial. Perhaps she would get to see her family again, now that would be nice.

  She looked around the bustling dining room and knew that if her fellow residents were privy to her thoughts, they’d accuse her of being maudlin. Constance didn’t think dwelling on the inevitable was maudlin though. Wasn’t dying the only guarantee in life?

  ‘Constance, are you all right?’

  She turned toward the voice blinking up at Isabel with the languidness of someone who’d just woken from a peaceful doze in the sun.

  ‘I asked if you were okay.’ She held out a serviette picked up from the table.

  Constance looked at it blankly.

  Isabel touched the serviette to her cheek and dabbed gently. ‘You’re crying,’ she said, showing her the sodden tissue before crumpling it and putting it down on the table. ‘I just popped in for a cuppa and a chat. I’ll get us a fresh pot. Tea fixes everything, or so my mum always says. That and a piece of her fruit loaf but I can’t offer you that I’m afraid.’

  Constance smiled her thanks and watched her young friend walk toward the tea tray. Her hair was the colour of the Solent today, she thought randomly. It wasn’t true; tea could not fix everything. She knew a cup of Earl Grey couldn’t change the way it all worked out so long ago. Nothing would it was simply far too late.

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  As she sat at the table, her meal in front of her, Isabel fidgeted in her seat. She was out of sorts as she thought back on her visit with Constance who hadn’t been herself. That’s not what had her knickers in a knot so to speak. She stared at the piece of schnitzel she’d speared onto her fork. She should eat; she loved Weiner Schnitzel and chips were her weakness. Rhodri had put his usual time and effort into preparing their evening meal, and it all looked delicious, cooked to perfection, but her insides were agitating like a washing machine. It was only
an hour until she was due at the Rum Den. She’d already popped her head in just before lunch because Brenda had wanted her there when the karaoke machine was delivered. The bald man with the ring in his ear, whose tattooed arms bulged from his T-shirt had set it up on the stage before giving her the rundown on how to operate the blasted machine.

  Brenda had decided to give it a whirl and Isabel had found Rod Stewart’s “Sailing” on the playlist for her. She’d done her best at doing a proper introduction, channelling her inner Ant & Dec to make her boss feel special. It’d been hard not to laugh as Brenda had stepped up onto the stage in the empty pub, shook her hair back and grabbed the mic. Her rendition of the old hit, however, had reminded Isabel of the cat fight that had gone on below her window the night before. A vicious ear-splitting, caterwauling. She pitied the punters if she decided to grace them with her version of “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy” that evening.

  Still, it wasn’t playing a few songs for people to sing along to that had her in such a stew she knew, taking a desultory bite of her meat. Being the karaoke DJ would be a bit of fun. A break from her normal bar duties. Nope, it was standing up in front of a pub full of people, feeling all eyes on her as they waited for her to open her mouth and sing that had her tummy in knots.

  Brenda had been busy spreading the word about town all week too. Hear ye, hear ye Friday’s Karaoke Night at the Rum Den. Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration, Isabel thought, but still, she regretted Googling how to soothe bunions for her boss now. If she hadn’t been feeling so sprightly, she wouldn’t have been strutting about telling all and sundry in Ryde about tonight’s happening at the pub.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Rhodri asked, slicing into his crumbed meat. ‘You look a little peaky.’

  ‘I don’t feel too good.’ She put her fork down. It was no good. She couldn’t stomach anything, not with the night that loomed ahead of her. ‘It’s not the meal, I promise. You know I normally tuck on in.’