The Girl Who Came Home to Cornwall

by Emma Burstall

  About six weeks after her return from Mexico, she woke feeling nauseous and the sensation persisted throughout the afternoon and evening. It was only when she climbed under her duvet at the manor that night that she realised she hadn’t had a period for quite some time.

  Checking in her phone diary, she saw that she was two weeks late. Her heart went into her mouth. She couldn’t be pregnant, could she? She wasn’t exactly young any more and besides, she was on the pill, though once or twice in Mexico she had forgotten to take it at the correct hour.

  She barely slept that night, and the following morning before work, she drove into the neighbouring village to buy a pregnancy testing kit. Looking left and right as she left the pharmacy, she fancied that all eyes were on her and felt ashamed and foolish. Women of her age didn’t usually get pregnant by mistake, and certainly not by ex-lovers. It simply wasn’t the done thing.

  She popped into the restaurant cloakroom during a lunchtime lull and opened up the box with trembling hands. Peeing onto the stick wasn’t difficult, and she checked the clock on her phone to make sure that she waited a full two minutes before looking at the result.

  When a plus sign appeared in the window, Chabela’s stomach turned over and she felt faint and had to lean against the wall to stop herself from falling.

  She felt scared and at the same time, a little excited. A baby wasn’t what she’d had in mind at all, and yet… somehow the prospect filled her with a sense of wonder that she would never have expected. Her own child! A girl or boy who might look like her, sound like her…

  All of a sudden, a terrible thought rushed into her head. Was it Alfonso’s – or Simon’s? When she counted back the days, she decided that it must be the former, given the dates and the fact that she’d missed the correct time to take the pill while in Mexico.

  It was hard going back to work afterwards, and Robert asked if she were OK, because she’d gone so quiet. She told him that she wasn’t feeling too well, but didn’t mention the sickness; the last thing she wanted was to alert him to what was really going on.

  As the afternoon progressed, she began to feel increasingly panicky as the reality of her situation started to sink in. Her immediate thought was to phone Simon, but then she realised that she could hardly tell the man with whom she thought she’d fallen in love that she might be pregnant by someone else.

  Despair gripped her insides and twisted as it dawned on her that she had thrown away her chance of happiness with Simon for a final, one-night fling. Why on earth had she done it? Partly it was out of childish pique, because Simon hadn’t come with her to Mexico, yet she knew that he would have if the head teacher hadn’t fallen ill. She ought to have admired him for his work ethic and strong sense of responsibility, not berated him for his virtues.

  Revenge had also come into it; she’d liked the idea of finally calling the shots with Alfonso but the whole thing had backfired spectacularly. She was ashamed of herself and also grief-stricken about what she had lost.

  Now, she would most likely have to return to Mexico City and her job. Tremarnock and all its inhabitants would fade into a distant memory. She could envisage a scenario of single motherhood, juggling work and childcare, with Alfonso dropping by from time to time when it suited him. She was well and truly trapped.

  Of course there was the option of a termination, but she knew without a shadow of doubt that she wouldn’t do it. The fact that she was pregnant at all seemed like nothing short of a miracle; she couldn’t possibly destroy this new life growing inside her.

  The last lunch customers left at three thirty, and she drove home to Polgarry for a rest. It was a whole two hours before she was due back for the evening shift, and she knew that she couldn’t put off what she’d been planning any longer.

  Sitting in her bedroom on the small armchair beneath the window, she looked out at the distant cliffs and the roaring sea beyond. She was going to miss this view, but most of all she’d miss Kittiwake – and Simon.

  There was a lump in her throat as she rang Alfonso’s number and her sweaty palms felt slippery against the phone casing. There was no reply at first, just a generic, recorded voice telling her to leave a message. She didn’t want to speak to a machine and pressed the off button.

  It was hard to know how to occupy herself now, with so much hanging in the air. She tried to read her book, but couldn’t focus, and there was no way that she would be able to sleep, although she felt dog-tired.

  She was thinking of taking a shower just to kill some time when the phone rang loud and clear on the bedside table and she hurried to pick it up. When Alfonso’s name appeared on the screen, she felt her knees give way and she plonked onto the bed, with the mobile pressed tight to her ear.

  ‘Chabelita!’ he said in a honeyed voice. ‘What a lovely surprise!’

  He started to ask what she was up to, but she had no time for such niceties and cut straight to the chase.

  ‘Alfonso,’ she said, ‘I’m pregnant.’

  There was silence at the other end for a few minutes before his voice came back cold and clear: ‘Congratulations. Whose is it?’

  Chabela was taken aback. ‘Yours, I believe,’ she said.

  ‘You believe?’ he repeated. ‘You mean you don’t know?’

  No warm, soothing words, no asking how she was feeling. He sounded harsh and inquisitorial and she was on the back foot.

  She couldn’t lie, so she told him exactly what had happened.

  ‘I’ve been seeing someone,’ she explained. ‘It’s early days. But I’ve looked at the dates and I don’t think the baby’s his.’

  ‘Well, it’s definitely not mine,’ came the response. ‘I’ve had a vasectomy.’

  Chabela started and her mouth dropped open. ‘What? When?’

  ‘Soon after Enrique was born.’

  ‘You never told me.’

  ‘Why would I? It wasn’t going to affect you one way or the other.’

  Tears sprang to her eyes as the reality of what he’d just said sank in. Although she’d always been ambivalent about having children, he knew that she’d been considering them; in fact they’d talked about it sometimes, and he’d always said they couldn’t make any decisions until he’d left Pilar.

  ‘There’s still time,’ she remembered him saying to her over a glass of red wine in a bar off Mexico City’s main square. His youngest must have been about ten. He’d gently pushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes. ‘We’ll revisit the subject when I’m free.’

  But he’d known even as he said it that she’d never have children with him because he couldn’t; he didn’t want any more. If he’d been truthful with her from the start, she might have accepted his decision. It was the lie that hurt, and the fact that her wishes, hopes and needs hadn’t even entered the equation.

  ‘You bastard,’ she said. It just popped out, but it came right from the heart and gut.

  ‘What?’ He sounded puzzled, as if he thought that he must have misheard. She’d rarely ever spoken to him like that.

  ‘You don’t care about me at all, do you?’ she went on now. The words flowed freely, gushing forth in a stream of consciousness. ‘It was all about possession, with you. You wanted to own me but my happiness didn’t matter.’

  Even as she spoke, she noticed that she was using the past tense and despite the lump in her throat, a profound sense of relief came over her.

  Finally, in a flash of clarity, she knew that she’d made her decision. No more wavering, no more hankering after something with Alfonso that could never be; she’d held this fantasy for so long and her unexpected pregnancy had momentarily relit the flame. But she didn’t even want the dream to become reality now. She wouldn’t marry him if he asked. He was dead to her.

  She heard him inhale and exhale slowly and purposefully, as if he were processing what she’d just said and working out the best response, the one most beneficial to him, no doubt.

  She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of having the last
word.

  ‘OK,’ she said. There was a wobble in her voice but she managed to keep going. ‘Now I know this baby isn’t yours, I won’t be troubling you again. Good luck, Alfonso.’

  ‘I, um—’ he started to say, but she hung up without waiting to hear the end.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chabela stood with her back to the wall for quite a while breathing in and out to steady her nerves. She was deeply shocked, but her dismay turned to joy when she realised that if Alfonso wasn’t the father, then it must be Simon.

  She was filled once again with a sense of amazement, that a brand new person was growing inside her who had half of her genes and half of Simon’s.

  How would it look? Would he or she have very dark hair and brown eyes like her, or Simon’s lighter hair and hazel eyes? Either way, the baby would be much loved by them both, she was certain. What she didn’t know, however, was how he would feel about it.

  She barely slept that night, thinking about the implications. Should she move back to Mexico City still or stay here in Tremarnock? It would depend on Simon’s response and that would have to wait till he was back from work this evening.

  She texted him to ask if she could pop around to Kittiwake later, and he quickly said yes. Then she had to endure another whole day of work until it was finally six o’clock and she could legitimately depart.

  After leaving the car in the car park opposite the playground, she walked to the bottom of the stone steps on Fore Street and began the familiar climb. It was already quite dark and she used the torch on her mobile to make sure that she didn’t trip and fall.

  The journey took longer than usual, because the ground was slippery and she had to walk slowly. When she eventually reached Kittiwake, Simon was already at the door, which he opened wide to let her in.

  ‘Holà!’ he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her on the lips. ‘How are things?’

  ‘OK,’ she replied. ‘Just. Can we talk?’

  Noticing how serious she was, he led her straight into his sitting room, where they sat on the sofa and he put an arm around her shoulder.

  His arm felt heavy and soothing, and she rested her head against his chest.

  ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

  His body tensed. ‘Fire away.’

  ‘I’m pregnant,’ she said simply. ‘You’re going to be a father!’

  Simon started. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  She repeated herself.

  ‘Oh my God, I can’t believe it!’ There was a catch in his throat and his eyes were damp with tears. ‘That’s the best news I’ve ever heard.’

  ‘Is it? Is it really?’ She needed to be sure that he wasn’t saying it just to please her. ‘Aren’t you horrified? Isn’t it too soon? I mean, we haven’t exactly known each other long.’

  ‘Chabela, I’ve been waiting for you all my life,’ he replied simply.

  Then he gave her a smile, which was like a bright spring flower bursting into bloom. It lit up his eyes, too, and seemed to pierce through all the bad in her life and make it right again. It was the most beautiful, radiant, shimmering, glorious smile that she’d ever seen.

  After that, he reached around to hold her tight and they sat in the shadows for a while, listening to each other’s breathing. Then, with a sick stomach and fear and trepidation in her heart, she braced herself and did what she had to do: she confessed everything, including her night with Alfonso, the sorrow and regret she felt, how she found out about the pregnancy, Alfonso’s response and what she had learned from it about herself, him, and her true feelings for Simon.

  She expected Simon to be shocked and hurt, and he was. For a while he said nothing at all, he just stared into the distance, his eyes filled with pain. It broke her heart to witness his suffering and to know that she was the cause made it ten times worse.

  For a while, she thought that all might be lost. To her profound relief, however, in the end Simon turned to her and said he believed her when she insisted that her relationship with Alfonso was truly and utterly dead.

  ‘I love you and I want to be with you. I won’t let him ruin our happiness.’

  His words made her love him even more and profound gratitude surged through her veins.

  Before too long, the conversation switched to what hopes and dreams they would have for their baby boy or girl. Light from the twinkling stars shone into the room, casting a silvery glow over walls, floor and ceiling and the only sound between conversations came from the branches softly tap-tapping against the darkened windows.

  He rose at last and turned around to face her, taking her hands in his.

  ‘Chabela,’ he said, ‘Señorita Penhallow, You’re more to me than life itself. I would do anything for you – climb mountains, fight sharks, even sit on cactuses.’

  This made the corners of her mouth twitch and rise.

  ‘I want you in my world for ever and ever,’ he went on. ‘I want to have lots of fun with you and raise a family and grow old together. Please will you marry me and be my wife?’

  Chabela’s heart leaped. It was as if all the pain, humiliation and loss of those long years with Alfonso melted away and in their place were warm summer raindrops and sparkling sunbeams. Everything was going to be all right now. She had Simon and he had her and they need never be alone again.

  ‘Señor Hosking,’ she replied, her heart full to bursting, ‘I’d like that more than anything in the whole wide world. I want to live with you here in Kittiwake and eat ice cream and drink red wine and grow vegetables and go swimming every day in the sea. What I’m trying to say is…’ she went on. ‘What I really mean is… in other words – yes, yes, YES!’

  *

  Once the marriage had been decided upon, Chabela and Simon wasted no time in booking the church and reception venue – which was to be none other than the Secret Shack. They settled on the date of 23 December, which was only a few short weeks away, and the ceremony itself was to take place in the Methodist church.

  It was to be a smallish, relaxed, casual affair and Bramble, who had lots of experience of running events, agreed to help with the arrangements. Robert was to walk Chabela up the aisle, while Rosie and her friend, Mandy, were to be bridesmaids. Chabela was determined to hold her celebrations on the beach. After Kittiwake it had become her happy place, the place where she felt most alive. Of course it might be blustery or even raining, so at Bramble’s suggestion, she organised a giant white tepee to go alongside the café, which would give plenty of shelter, and there would be outside caterers – namely Audrey and her team of helpers – providing food and drink.

  They invited fifty guests, including Simon’s family from Camelford, and two of Chabela’s closest girlfriends from Mexico City. Other than that it was all villagers, plus Sally the Jack Russell in a purple bow.

  Chabela, who prided herself on being unconventional, looked stunning in an avant-garde, off-the-shoulder, wine-coloured velvet dress. Her baby bump was hardly showing yet, and the gown was fitted on the waist and hips and ended with a flamenco-style ruffle just below the knee. The back, meanwhile, was in the shape of a swishy mermaid’s tail, which fell all the way to the ground.

  Simon had bought a very dashing velvet suit that was black, not brown, and he had a crimson silk tie. In fact, for once, he didn’t have a single brown item on him, save his wallet, which was hidden anyway.

  The bridesmaids were in pale pink, with scarlet rosebuds in their hair and silver shoes, and they carried posies of red, white and blue polyanthus. Meanwhile, Chabela’s bouquet was made of rich red hellebores with silver foliage that seemed to sparkle in the dimly lit church, and she had nude sandals with glass heels on her feet.

  Most of the guests had on Christmassy colours also – red, white, green, silver and gold, and the church was filled with garlands of white winter roses and dark green ivy, which coiled around the stone pillars and rambled over the edges of the wooden pews.

  The ceremony was at eleven thirty and everyone was se
ated, listening to Pachelbel’s Canon in D on the organ, when Chabela arrived on Robert’s arm, ten minutes late. Rosie and her friend, both with big smiles and flowers in their hair, were just behind.

  Immediately the music stopped and started again with ‘El Son de la Negra’, which was often played at Mexican weddings. This caused a number of raised eyebrows among the congregation, who were not used to such foreign imports, but they took it in good part and soon relaxed into it.

  The service itself was conducted in English, with a nod to Mexican tradition when the bridesmaids placed lazos, two flower leis tied together in the middle with a bow, over the bride’s and groom’s heads during a special prayer, before they said ‘I do’.

  There were quite a lot of tears shed when they made their vows, not least from Liz, who always blubbed during weddings. Simon couldn’t take his eyes off Chabela the entire time, and she gave him smiles back that would melt the hardest of hearts.

  Once or twice Lowenna, who was sitting on her mother’s lap in the front row, shouted, ‘What are they doing, Mummy?’ and had to be shushed. But no one minded; it just seemed to add to the joyful atmosphere.

  As soon as the rings had been exchanged and the final hymn, ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’, had been sung, the newly-weds went to sign the register, witnessed by Robert and Liz.

  The pair stood stiffly side-by-side, their hands clasped in front of them, their eyes fixed on the marriage licence. As she looked up from the page, however, Chabela couldn’t help noticing Robert casting a furtive glance in Liz’s direction, and she gave a small, shy, half-smile back.

  The moment was so brief that most people would have missed it, but not Chabela, whose heart fluttered with hope. Then she and Simon walked out of the church into the watery December sunshine, where they were sprayed with dried petals.

  The biggest surprise was when a mariachi band in white suits popped out of the bushes with their guitars to entertain everyone while photographs were being taken. Chabela had found the musicians through a specialist hire company online and on discovering that they lived not far away in Exeter, she had wasted no time in booking them.