Shattered at Sea

by Cheryl Hollon

  Glenda waved a hand at the table. “My friends are experts at making a fuss if I try to refuse work, but now I only take on the jobs I love. That’s right. Sit there, Savannah, next to Pa’s place with Edward next to you. We’ll put Ian on the other side, next to Pa, so he won’t misbehave.”

  Savannah looked at the contents of the Welsh dresser. “This is a beautiful collection. Goodness, what a huge teapot. Do the pieces have a history?”

  “That enormous teapot belongs to Ron’s side of the family. It was a wedding present to his grandmother, then to his parents—as his dad was the oldest son. Finally, it came to us when we married since Ron was their oldest son. We never use it.”

  The shower had helped Savannah feel more awake and energized, but the novelty of last night’s whirlwind round of fancy food and drink had delayed their settling down to sleep in the airplane’s comfortable flat beds. Then, her slumbers were cut short by the hustling of the cabin crew to serve a full English breakfast and then prepare for landing an hour before touchdown. She was basically operating on three hours of sleep.

  She jumped when she felt a nudge on her calf, and took a peek around the edge of the table. Right next to her was a tan and white Corgi puppy with the most soulful brown eyes she had ever seen. Edward reached down and ruffled the adorably cute perky ears. “This must be Dora. Mum’s newest member of the pack.” He looked over to his mother who was taking another heavy red roasting dish out of the AGA oven. “Does Dora make number four or five?”

  “Actually, Dora makes only three. We lost Daisy and Dolly this summer. I didn’t tell you because you didn’t know them very well and it was too upsetting for me. It was so unbearably hot and they were getting on, you know. Duff and Dana are still young at only four and five. They withstood the unseasonably hot summer very well, but I’m afraid we may have to install air-conditioning so that the doggies are more comfortable.”

  Edward lifted both hands palms up and shrugged at Savannah. “That’s Mum. No AC for the humans, but for her precious Corgis? Absolutely.”

  “Nonsense—you were healthier for a little weathering.”

  “You should try to cook in here for an afternoon event for fifty in August. Talk about sweating buckets.”

  “Don’t exaggerate, Edward. That’s not polite.” Glenda smiled even as she chided him.

  Edward looked at Savannah and mouthed, “I’m not exaggerating.”

  Glenda put one hand on her hip and pointed at the adorable Dora. “Miss Dora, you know you can’t be here in the kitchen. Go back to the sitting room like a good girl.” Dora slunk out of the kitchen but stopped at the threshold to glance back at Glenda. “Go on, Dora. We’ll have our coffee and pudding with you. It won’t be long, luv.” She turned to Edward. “Have you seen Ian?”

  A loud flush followed by running water in the sink sounded from the powder room in the entryway. A few seconds later, Ian stood at the entrance to the kitchen. “Is it ready, Aunt Glenda?”

  “Only just,” said Glenda. “Go fetch your uncle Ron so we can sit down to eat.”

  Ian turned his head to the side and bellowed, “Uncle Ron! Lunch is ready.”

  “Really, Ian. Must you act the fool in front of our guest?” Then she tutted with the zeal of an experienced tut-tutter. Savannah put a hand over her mouth and pressed her lips tight to suppress the urge to bust out in laughter. Ian sat across from Savannah and took a huge swig of water to cover his expression.

  Edward’s dad entered the kitchen. “Smells good as usual, Ma.” He came up behind Glenda and put his arms around her for a hug and quick kiss on the cheek. Savannah got the impression that this was a normal and much practiced greeting between the two. Then he sat in the only cushioned chair with arms at the head of the table against the wall. “Come on, Glenda. Sit down so we can pray and tuck in.”

  Another tut was followed with, “Don’t rush me, Ron. I don’t want to forget anything.”

  “Come now, it doesn’t have to be perfect.” Ian shook his head. “It’s just us.”

  “Behave.” Glenda swiped a hand in the general direction of the back of Ian’s head.

  This is what having an extended family is like. It’s so comforting. I understand why Edward is so confident—he has this whole family behind him. It was only me and Dad after Mom died.

  Savannah felt her cheeks lift in a warm smile. Her young life was so different. Her dad raised her by himself since she was ten. Memories of her mother struggling with cancer left her isolated and a loner. Glass art saved her.

  This was exactly what she imagined Edward’s family would be like in their home. Cheerful, affectionate, full of teasing that showed how much they cared about each other. She had met them on their last visit to St. Petersburg, but the circumstances had been strained by Savannah’s efforts to clear herself as the prime suspect in the murder of a prizewinning glass artist. Ron and Glenda had returned home before she could get to know them.

  The meal tasted even better than it smelled. There was roast lamb shank with a thin au jus gravy, accompanied by creamy garlic mashed potatoes. The colorful vegetable dish was piled with a selection of carrots, both orange and purple, cauliflower, broccoli, and sliced turnips. Edward’s mother used a kitchen towel to remove a stack of dinner plates from a warming door in the top shelf of the AGA. She sat them on her place mat and settled in the arm chair at the foot of the table across from her husband. She loaded the top plate with a hunk of lamb, a great dollop of potatoes, and a heaping pile of vegetables. She ladled gravy overall and handed it to Ian. “Pass this down to your uncle Ron, dear.”

  As she loaded up the next plate, Ian held out his hands, but his aunt signaled for the next plate to be Savannah’s. Edward took it from his mother and quickly plopped the loaded plate onto Savannah’s mat. “Watch it! That is hot.”

  In a comfortable routine, Glenda filled Edward’s and his cousin’s plates and finally ended by serving herself. When her plate was filled, she looked over to her husband and nodded. Everyone bowed heads, then Edward’s dad gave the quickest blessing that Savannah had ever heard and everyone tucked in.

  After the first few bites, the menfolk piped up.

  “Delicious lamb, dear.”

  “Aunt Glenda, this is great.”

  “Mum, I have sorely missed your cooking. This is fantastic.”

  Savannah caught Edward’s mother looking at her with her head tilted slightly and her eyebrows raised. “How is your lamb, poppet?”

  “Poppet?” Savannah crinkled her eyes.

  Instantly, the men stopped eating and looked at her. Edward nudged her with an elbow.

  “It’s a term of endearment for a young person. It means Mum likes you.”

  “Oh, I know what it means. British television is incredibly popular in the U.S. It’s just that I never expected to be called a poppet.”

  “Yep,” said Ron. The men returned to their meals.

  Savannah gulped, “Oh.” She wiped her mouth with the linen napkin. “Mrs. Morris, I’ve only eaten lamb a few times at Edward’s pub.” She paused and nudged Edward back. “I must tell the truth.” She smiled at Edward’s mother. “Yours is better.” She elbowed Edward again who was pretending to be shocked. “It is better.”

  Savannah felt the release of pent-up breath in the room. Apparently, she had passed some sort of test.

  It’s one thing to have met Edward’s parents while they were visiting him in Florida and quite another to meet them on their home turf. I’m being examined for partner material, I’m sure.

  Edward pointed a fork at Ian. “Thanks ever so much for letting me crash in your cabin for this cruise. I can’t believe you were able to get me added to your reservation so quickly.”

  “No issues, really. I have a schoolmate whose partner owns a travel agency. He transferred my cabin for your cruise’s departure date in a jiff. It will be even more fun to cruise with you guys.”

  Savannah had mimicked everyone’s fork and knife in each hand style of eating. It was awk
ward at first, but in the end, she found it quicker. “Don’t forget, I’ll be working and won’t be able to spend very much time with you. I do expect you both to attend every single one of my demonstrations. No excuses!”

  Glenda Morris looked around the table at everyone’s clean plate. “Pass the plates down to me and I’ll get our pudding. It’s Spotted Dick.”

  Savannah’s eyebrows lifted. “I’ve heard of that. It’s made of what, exactly?”

  Edward grinned like a Cheshire cat. “A lovely vanilla pudding with raisins.”

  Glenda returned with a tray bearing white ramekins filled to the brim with the classic dessert. The little cups were passed around and polished off in seconds. Savannah gulped down the rest of her serving and felt like she was a slow-motion sloth.

  “If everyone is finished, Edward, you should show Savannah the back garden and take Dora, Duff, and Dana with you. They all need their walkies before we set off on the St. Albans’ footpath. Along the way, we need to stop by the Red Lion Pub for Ian’s graduation celebration. We’ll only be taking Dora. The others mind the commotion.”

  Savannah scooted her chair back to leave the table, but when she stood, a sharp yelp from below startled her. She stepped back trying to avoid Dora the adorable, but instead crashed into the dresser behind her. This was followed by the awful sound of crockery falling to the tiled kitchen floor. She turned around in time to see the heritage china teapot hit the floor.

  Complete silence filled the room.

  Savannah gasped at the destruction and put her hands up to her flushed cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

  Dora began to whimper and then started to shake.

  Edward’s eyes widened. Everyone at the table was frozen in shock.

  Savannah broke the silence, stuttering. “I’ve destroyed your granny’s teapot.” She looked at Edward and then looked at Glenda. “I’m so sorry.” She felt the tears threatening to spill.

  Everyone’s going to hate me for this. What a horrible thing to do.

  “Are you hurt?” Glenda reached out a gentle hand across the table in Savannah’s direction.

  “Dora! Come here!” Edward commanded in a firm voice. He lifted Dora into his arms and stood up. “Dora, you know you’re not supposed to be here. Mum, you’ve really been spoiling her.”

  “Is it the heirloom teapot?” Glenda’s voice was heavy with concern. “Is it shattered beyond repair?”

  Hundreds of tiny shards were strewn across the stone floor. Savannah picked up the largest piece. “The spout is all that is recognizable. The rest will be impossible to piece together.” She slowly placed the spout back on the shelf in the gap where the teapot had been. “I’m . . . I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”

  Glenda took Dora from Edward’s arms and kissed her on the top of the head. “You naughty, naughty girl. How will I ever forgive you?”

  “What can I do? Can I get a replacement?” Savannah shook her head to clear it. “Sorry, how stupid of me. This can’t possibly be replaced. I’ve destroyed something precious.”

  “Yes, you have, my dear,” said Glenda. “But it was only precious to my mother-in-law, who sadly is no longer with us.”

  Ron cleared his throat. “Mum considered it to be my heritage, but she conveniently forgot that I didn’t find much value in crockery no matter who it belonged to.”

  “That’s right!” Edward picked up the matching creamer from the cabinet and nodded down the table to his dad. Ron picked up the matching sugar bowl and nodded solemnly to Edward.

  Edward and Ron lifted their hands over their heads and crashed the china to the floor.

  Savannah jumped, and shock raced across her face. “What are you doing?”

  “Savannah,” Ron spoke with a deep voice. “Savannah, don’t worry yourself for a second. Although Granny’s teapot had pride of place on our sideboard, in truth, she was a horrible person. She ruled with an iron fist and a wooden ruler and kept us all in constant turmoil.” He walked around the shards and folded Savannah into his arms. “Something never means more to me than someone.”

  Glenda clapped her hands. “Chop, chop, Edward. Get the broom and sweep this mess away. I’ve been waiting for ages for that damned teapot to fall.”

  Afterward, Edward’s mother wouldn’t hear of Savannah’s offer to help clear the kitchen. Although Duff indicated that he did not approve of Savannah by giving her a wide berth, he was happy for Edward to clip on his leash. Dora and Dana gave her tail wiggles as she clipped on their leashes.

  Edward’s mother held the back door open as they wrangled the three dogs out. “Don’t let them fool you into dropping their leads. They love nothing better than a good chase on the downs. We don’t have time for that.”

  They went out the back door and Savannah felt the world tilt. She grabbed the door to steady herself and caught her breath. The wild riot of color was not at all what she expected in an English garden. There were two halves to the display. Bold colors on the left side and soft pastels on the other. The bright contrasting colors reminded her of a surrealist’s garden, and the soft side took an Impressionist painter’s palette. The flowers that drew her attention were the pastel roses—tall, proud, spectacular roses.

  “They’re gorgeous.” Savannah cupped a heavy pink blossom in her hands and sniffed deeply. “And they have a scent. I miss the wonderful flowers that were everywhere in Seattle sometimes. Listen, Edward. I’m so sorry about the teapot. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  Edward folded Savannah into his arms. “You’re simply suffering from jet lag, but Mum has indeed been trying to get rid of that horrible teapot for ages.” He released her and they headed toward the back gate. “You know about the superstition, don’t you?”

  “What superstition?”

  “If you break a piece of china, you’ll have very bad luck. Even worse if you try to mend it. That’s why Mum had us sweep up the pieces so quickly and put them outside in the trash bin. The broken pieces foretell bad luck.”

  Chapter 3

  Saturday afternoon, St. Albans, England

  Savannah and Edward walked behind his parents and Dora, and headed uphill on Abbey Mill Lane toward St. Albans Abbey. Dora struggled to keep her lead training in mind and needed a pointed reminder from time to time. Apparently, Edward’s mum had so much training experience with dogs that she didn’t break stride to correct Dora’s behavior.

  “Where’s Ian?” asked Savannah. She puffed a little heavily as the steepness of the hill increased.

  Ron grumbled with thinly suppressed irritation. “Long gone. He said he had to meet his friends to get ready for his party. Humph. His idea of getting ready is to arrive. He’ll show up late as well. Watch.”

  “Don’t be such a fusspot, dear.” Glenda looked over her shoulder. “Savannah, we usually visit the Abbey when we take this walk. We do have a little extra time. Would you like to see the stained glass?”

  She felt a wave of relief. Edward is right. She isn’t mad at me.

  “Yes, yes. I would love that.” She grabbed Edward by the arm and gave it a squeeze. “I researched it before we left. There’s a mixture of modern and ancient. The north transept rose window is especially interesting and has caused quite the controversy since it was installed.”

  He tucked her hand through his elbow and patted it. “The locals have always called it ‘the Abbey’ even though it hasn’t been an official abbey since the sixteenth century. The architecture dates from Norman times. It became a cathedral in 1877. It’s our parish church. You’re going to love the windows.”

  Entering via the Slype visitor’s center, they walked through the south transept and paused in the crossing to view the longest nave in England. They continued across and gazed at the stained glass designed for the north transept rose window. Savannah whispered into Edward’s ear. “The glass is modern. It was designed by an artist named Younger and unveiled in 1989 by Diana, Princess of Wales.”

  “So much blue and red,” Edward whispered back.
<
br />   “That’s why there was such conflict. It doesn’t blend in with the ancient panels, but some of the windows from the fifties haven’t aged well. In fact, they look horribly dated. These colors are bold and the pattern is quite geometric, but it manages to blend perfectly into its setting.” She turned to find Glenda. “Thanks for taking me to see it, Mrs. Morris.”

  Glenda smiled and walked over to a shrine that had a metal stand holding rows and rows of lit candles flickering in ruby votives.

  Edward whispered to Savannah, “Mum was going to stop by here anyway to light a candle for our journey.”

  “Really? It’s only a cruise. Nothing dangerous. For me, it’s a job. An exciting job, but still merely a job.”

  “Well, the thing is that she’s terrified of water. She never learned to swim and I think she’s worried sick about both me and Ian sailing on the same ship. Somehow that seems to make her think it will be even more dangerous.”

  They left the Abbey and took the footpath down to the River Ver footbridge and then circled back to pause in front of a timber-framed octagonal building with a large sign over the door, YE OLDE FIGHTING COCKS. There was an oval plaque listing it as Britain’s oldest pub.

  Edward’s parents turned in unison to Edward. Then Glenda waved her hand at him in a “do your thing” gesture.

  “Fine.” He smiled and tipped his head to one side. “I’m the one in the family that tells our visitors about this pub. In case you haven’t gathered by the enormous billboard on the wall of the pub, our lovely St. Albans is a popular tourist site. Although this pub claims to be the oldest in Britain, the earliest date for which it can be proved to have been licensed is 1756—and even that date is not certain. My vote goes to the White Hart Hotel, which dates to 1470.”

  “No matter, dear,” said Glenda. “Ian’s celebration is out back in the beer garden.”

  “Right.” Edward took Savannah’s arm and led her in through a dark, heavily beamed hodgepodge of small rooms each furnished with tables, chairs, benches, booths, and stools. Everything looked old and comfortable. The mostly red oriental carpets were worn and threadbare. She glimpsed an upright piano in one corner and they passed by the small bar crowded with beer tap handles and bar cloths. On their way out back, she felt the momentary warmth of a cozy fireplace featuring a vast copper hood.