Abi's House

by Jenny Kane

  She had managed to eat more of her dinner than she’d thought she would, but had soon escaped the bustle of the dining room. Feeling stifled indoors, Abi had wrapped herself up warm and gone outside, settling herself onto one of the soft cushioned garden chairs on the sculpted patio.

  Max hadn’t said much after he’d rescued her. He’d listened. He hadn’t interrupted her as she’d spoken. Abi knew she’d told him far more than she’d intended to about her marriage, about how she’d met Luke and fallen in love with him, but how stifled he’d quickly made her feel once they were married only six months after they’d met. Abi had explained about the muffin incident, and how the disapproving looks and comments of that particular gaggle of wives had been the final straw, in far more detail than she had to Beth.

  She’d even told him about Simon’s attempt to keep her in the family. It was as if, once Abi had begun to share with him, the floodgates had opened and she couldn’t stop.

  Staring up at the sky now, picking out the few constellations she knew, Abi felt a comforting glow at how angry Max had been by the time she’d stopped talking. The ire he’d directed towards the Carter family in particular had stunned Abi with its venom, so much so that she’d found herself defending them. Abi had told him it was just how they all behaved, and they saw keeping Luke’s financial assets within their control as normal and sensible, rather than cruel.

  That was when Max had taken a visible deep breath and placed his large palm over her hand. ‘Your defence of them shows a great deal about how good a person you are, but they sound monstrous. Whatever you decide to do, or where you decide to go if Cornwall doesn’t work for you, don’t go back to them. They’ll squash you.’

  Max hadn’t said much else. He’d just squeezed her hand hard once, and apologised as he stood to go. ‘Work is calling me, Abi, thanks for talking to me, lass. Why don’t you go back to your hotel and grab some rest. Don’t make any decisions today, you’ve had too much of a shock.’

  Then he’d left.

  ‘So,’ Abi addressed the outline of the constellation of the Plough as she sat in the closing dark, ‘Should I just give up and go back?’ As she spoke up to the stars she remembered how Max had spotted that she called Surrey ‘going back’ and not ‘back home.’

  Abi wasn’t sure at what point the house just outside Guildford had stopped being her home. Now she considered it, she thought it was probably before and not after Luke’s death. It wasn’t a realisation that she liked.

  ‘But is Cornwall the right place?’ Abi shifted her stargazing to the belt of Orion.

  A cold shiver washed over her. Her mother would have said someone had walked over her grave. In the stark starlight she could almost see Luke, a spectre in her imagination telling her how foolish she had been to come to Cornwall in the first place.

  ‘Perhaps you’re right, Luke.’ Abi pulled her knees up, resting her feet on the chair seat, so she was hunched in a tight ball on the chair, her arms wrapped over her legs. ‘And yet, I’ve only been here a few minutes and I’ve already made two friends.’

  Friends who interfere.

  ‘Friends who care enough to interfere.’

  You used to pride yourself on being self-sufficient and not needing anyone but me.

  ‘I had no choice but to believe that, Luke. It’s how I survived the isolation – by telling myself it was my choice.’

  It was your choice.

  ‘One you forced me to make.’

  I did no such thing.

  Abi closed her eyes. Yet again her imagination was taking her in pointless circles. She knew she had been weak, that she should have argued with Luke, stood her ground, and that he might even have respected her for it – although she doubted it. But what was the point of beating herself up about it now? How many times was she going to have this conversation with herself before she accepted that she’d been given, albeit in a manner she would never have chosen, a fresh chance? An opportunity to make a life wherever she wanted to be.

  You have to go back. You have to go home. To our home. Your dream house is no longer a good dream. Our home has everything you need in it, a studio, comfort, space, a garden, a sunny conservatory – everything. You’ve had your running-away moment – now it’s time to grow up and face reality.

  Abi jumped as footsteps rapidly approached from out of the dark.

  ‘Oh sorry, petal!’ Barbara smiled, ‘I didn’t realise you were out here. Are you OK with coming inside so I can lock up, or would you like me to leave you the key so you can lock up after you when you’re ready to come in?’

  Abi uncurled her legs. ‘Sorry, I hadn’t realised the time. I’ll come in now. Thanks.’

  Barbara paused to look up at the sky. ‘The stars are magnificent, aren’t they? Looking up at them always makes me feel so tiny somehow. My husband always used to say that if you stared at the stars for long enough they’d stare back and a little of their soul would light your life forever.’

  ‘I like that idea.’

  ‘He was a great one for sitting and looking. My Sam was a man who always had time to actually look properly.’

  Abi wasn’t sure if she should ask, as slightly awkwardly she said, ‘Sam?’

  ‘Motorbike accident.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’

  ‘Thanks, love. Eight years ago now, but not a day goes by when I don’t miss him. It gets easier though – not nicer – just easier.’ Barbara led Abi back into the cosy embrace of the hotel, ‘Can I get you a drink or anything to heat the bones before bed, petal?’

  ‘No thanks.’ Abi smiled gratefully at the hotel proprietor and walked thoughtfully up the stairs.

  Beth turned her car radio down as she pulled up outside the Cairn and waved to Abi, who was sitting on the wall waiting for her. Beth hadn’t been sure what state she expected Abi to be in today. Max had given her a brief account of finding Abi after her disappointment with the house the previous morning, but he’d been unusually taciturn about what she’d told him.

  Prior to driving to St Just to collect Abi, Beth had manoeuvred her car up the narrow backstreet of Miners Row. She’d walked that way so many times, but it wasn’t until this morning that she’d really looked. As soon as Beth had seen the broken house sign and the poor state of repair that Abbey’s House was in she had understood something of the grief that had flooded her new friend.

  ‘Hi, hun!’ Abi beamed as she climbed into the car, ‘this is so kind of you, are you sure you have time to escape from sorting out the shop again?’

  Beth couldn’t help but laugh. ‘No problem, I am one of life’s prevaricators when I’m out of the classroom! Max can never understand how I can be all sensible and decisive at school, but be totally scatty and unable to make a decision about my own life.’

  ‘I get that. Making decisions for other people is easy. You just follow common sense and the rules set down by your job or whatever, but personal decisions – they can be a total nightmare.’

  ‘You’ve got it!’ Laughing again, Beth edged the car back out onto the road and pointed it towards the Minack Theatre. ‘How about you, though, are you sure you want to take time out from your house hunting?’

  Abi stared straight ahead as she answered with a question of her own, ‘Did Max tell you about yesterday?’

  ‘He said he’d seen you and that you were very upset about the state you found Abbey’s House in, and that he’d got some food down you before he went to work.’

  ‘He was incredibly kind. Did I make him very late for work?’

  ‘Not at all. He let his client know he’d be delayed, and they were fine about it.’

  Abi stared into her hands as she spoke, her voice barely above an embarrassed whisper. ‘I’m very grateful to him. To you both. I’m rather embarrassed to be honest. I haven’t behaved well, crying and moaning to people I’ve only known for five minutes. And you’ve been so kind and …’ Abi could feel emotion attempting to nudge back up her throat, ‘… and anyway, I’ve made a decision.�
��

  ‘You haven’t, have you? Damn, that means I’ll have to!’

  Thankful for Beth’s light humour, Abi looked out of the window at the close high hedges that seemed to line all the narrow roads. ‘I tell you what; let’s just enjoy our day out. I know I’ve only just got here, but I already feel as if I need a break! Then after the show we’ll get down to sharing some serious decisions.’

  ‘I’m liking that plan!’ Beth slowed down as they negotiated a narrow blind curve in the road, ‘it follows all my principles of denial and putting things off!’

  Abi hadn’t been prepared for the Minack Theatre’s sheer breathtaking beauty.

  As Beth opened the car boot and pulled out an armful of thick tartan rugs and a wicker picnic hamper, Abi stood and stared, her mouth open in awe at the sheer wonder of the view before her. Surely there was no place on earth more suited to a performance of Macbeth.

  ‘We don’t need all those blankets, do we? It’s a gorgeous day.’ Abi could feel the sun’s rays piercing her T-shirt, and was already wishing she’d worn shorts and not her trusty blue jeans.

  ‘These aren’t to cuddle up in. Although if you come up here when the sun isn’t shining it is freezing you’d be glad of them. The wind can really whip off the sea here. The blankets are to sit on. The granite seats may look awe-inspiring, but they can become rather personal to sit on in a very short time if you aren’t prepared!’ Beth passed two plump cushions to Abi. ‘We’ll definitely need these as well!’

  As Abi looked, she saw that everyone else was also pulling travel rugs, cushions, and picnics from their cars, and the happy rush of contentment that she hadn’t experienced since her first morning in Cornwall washed over her again.

  It only took a few minutes of sitting on the carved stone seats before Abi was grateful for Beth’s foresight in bringing the blankets and cushions, and within twenty minutes, both women had one of the travel rugs over their knees and their jumpers back on despite the sunshine, as the breeze from the sea had had decades to develop the skill of invading the bones with an expertise that could be admired if not appreciated.

  Despite its chill however, the breeze simply added to the hauntingly striking atmosphere. ‘It feels as if this place has been here forever. It looks like a Roman amphitheatre, but the Romans never made it this far south, did they?’

  ‘It really does look like it should be Roman, doesn’t it? But the Minack’s only been here since 1932.’

  ‘Really? Wow, I’d have guessed eighteen-something, though I’m not sure why.’

  Beth opened up a flask and began to pour out two cupfuls of aromatic coffee. ‘It does have a romantic Victorian air to it, doesn’t it? In fact it was built by an amazing lady called Rowena Cade and her gardener. They actually carved every seat out of the granite cliff face. It must have been a real labour of love.’

  ‘Was it always meant to be a theatre, or did that come later?’

  Beth shrugged, ‘I’m not sure, you’d have to ask Max. He’s the fount of all local knowledge, but I have a feeling that it was always meant to host performances. I do know that the first production here was The Tempest. I mean, can you imagine anywhere more idyllic for that than here? With the sea actually present, having a starring role!’

  While Beth popped into a gloriously old-fashioned homemade sweet shop to buy a supply of rum and raisin fudge, Abi stopped to admire the statue of Sir Humphrey Davy high along the raised pavement of Market Jew Street in Penzance. She’d seen it the day before, but hadn’t paused to look. The words of Barbara talking about her husband came back to Abi as she examined Davy’s lifesaving lamp. Life should be about looking and not just seeing.

  Beth, already munching a lump of fudge as she walked out of the shop, offered the pink and white striped paper bag to Abi, ‘Do you want to peer in the estate agents’ windows while we are here, or shall I whisk you off to Marazion so we can sit on the beach overlooking St Michael’s Mount?’

  ‘What a silly question!’

  Beth grinned. ‘Good stuff. I love Marazion! We could get takeout coffee and walk along the beach if you like.’

  Abi smiled back at her new friend. Suddenly, despite her disappointment with Abbey’s House, Cornwall was feeling a lot more like she’d hoped it would.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Having taken off their shoes and socks, the girls walked along the sand, giggling like children as the lap of the sea broke over their toes.

  Abi stared out across the bay towards St Michael’s Mount, proud and isolated on its little island.

  Noticing the line of Abi’s gaze, Beth said, ‘We’re a bit late tide-wise to walk out there today, but we could go soon if you like?’

  ‘I would love that.’ Abi watched as a little shuttle style boat pulled up on the beach and despatched a dozen or so tourists. ‘Mind you, the boat looks fun as well.’

  Beth grimaced. ‘Max loves it, but I get seasick.’

  ‘But you live in Cornwall?’

  Beth laughed. ‘They say Nelson suffered from seasickness and he was one of the greatest naval heroes of all time.’

  ‘Good point.’ Abi dug her toes into the sand, enjoying watching the sea set them free again. She looked at her watch; it confirmed what the quiet state of the beach was already telling her. It was already seven o’clock, and many of the tourists had gone back to their hotels and rented cottages for their evening meals. ‘Thank you, Beth, it has been a wonderful day. Just what I needed. Can I take you out for a meal soon to say thanks? And Max as well; I owe him big time for his kindness.’

  ‘Not at all. Although a meal out would be great.’ Beth sat on the sand and stretched her naked feet out in front of her. ‘It’s been so much fun. As much as I love my flat, I almost can’t face going back.’

  ‘I know what you mean.’ Abi stretched her legs out in front of her as well, ‘once we go back, we’ll have to think about all those decisions we’ve avoided all day.’

  ‘Successfully if not triumphantly avoided, if I may say so!’

  ‘You may indeed!’ Abi trailed some of the fine yellow sand through her fingertips, ‘I think this is the first time since I lost Luke that he – and how to structure my life without him – hasn’t been at the forefront of my mind.’

  They watched as a man walked his dog along the front. The black Labrador was splashing in and out of the waves with an abandon they could only envy.

  ‘I think I’d rather like one of those.’ Abi tilted her head to one side as she watched the dog chase after a stick thrown between the shallow waves.

  ‘A man or a dog?’

  ‘Definitely just the dog! You?’

  ‘I think I could go for both!’ Beth giggled. ‘We didn’t actually have our chat about making decisions, did we?’

  ‘Perhaps we decided not to?’

  ‘Just one more hour of non-decision-making then?’

  ‘You have a deal!’ Abi sniffed the sea air. ‘I can smell chips. Let’s get some!’

  Scrunching up the chip wrapper and throwing it into a nearby bin, Abi sucked the remaining traces of salt and vinegar off her fingers in a gesture of pure decadent bliss.

  ‘Well then,’ sounding far more decisive than she felt, Abi turned to Beth, ‘what do you want to do with that shop of yours?’

  Beth slugged back the remains of a can of cola and shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I do know what I don’t want to do with it, but that hardly helps.’

  ‘Of course it does.’ Abi began to brush sand from her feet before putting her socks and trainers back on. ‘What don’t you want to do?’

  ‘I can’t see myself sitting behind a counter and selling things, which, as it’s a shop, is rather a major drawback!’ Beth pulled on her own shoes, and in unspoken agreement they began to walk towards the car park. ‘To start with I’m going to use the space to display the pictures my last reception class of children did for me as a leaving present.’

  ‘Oh, what a lovely thing to do! And having seen the space, I’m sure it would
make a superb gallery.’

  ‘That’s what Max said, and to be honest, the idea does appeal, but there are so many galleries in Cornwall. I don’t think I could make it cost-effective. And then there’s the other problem.’

  ‘The other problem?’

  ‘I don’t want to give up my job, so I’d have to employ someone to run the place for me, and if it was some sort of gallery, then I’d never bring in enough cash to afford that.’

  Abi was just about to suggest that they go back to Beth’s and have a good stare at the place to see if they could come up with any suggestions, and to see if she was brave enough to share her idea that the shop would be an excellent studio this time, when Beth’s phone burst into life.

  ‘Hi, Max, good day tiling?'

  Abi sat on a nearby bench just out of earshot and looked about her. Today had been a good day. A really good day. She had, in a miraculously short time she realised, done two of the things she had most wanted to do on leaving Surrey. She had made friends of her own, and she had found Abbey’s House.

  Her disappointment at the sad state of the house was still acute, but Abi no longer felt as though all her dreams had been dashed. With some mature reflection helped by a good night’s sleep, offloading to Max, a magical day of Shakespeare, fudge, and chips with Beth, Abi knew facing all the demons Luke had left her with had done her good. There had been so much grief backed up inside her, not just from the loss of her husband, but of the loss of her happiness some time before that. She’d felt so cheated by her marriage, and by the man she had loved so much at first, but who had slowly undermined every bit of confidence she’d had.

  Abi was also sure now that this was the place for her, but that she also couldn’t stay unless she found somewhere that made her heart happy. Knowing she had to be sensible, Abi decided to give herself two days to find out what was available to buy in the region. Then, if nothing fitted her expectations, she would get to grips with the idea of going back to Surrey and house-hunting from there. She couldn’t just stay in a hotel indefinitely until a suitable home came along, when she could sort out the sale in Surrey and house-hunt in Cornwall at the same time via the Internet.