A Cornish Gift

by Fern Britton

  Between convulsive sobs, Alex replied, ‘We were walking … she wasn’t on the lead and then she saw a rabbit … and then she was gone …’

  ‘OK, baby, OK.’

  ‘I didn’t want to leave her, Dad. I tried to call for help, but I couldn’t get a signal … At first she was barking, and I was telling her it was going to be all right, but I couldn’t see any way to get down to her … And now she’s not moving.’ Alex broke into fresh tears.

  ‘The main thing is to get you to safety. Charlotte, can you and Alex make it back to the beach? I’ll wait here for the coastguard.’

  ‘OK.’ Charlotte gave her husband a brief but fierce hug and he kissed them both on their heads.

  As they headed back up the path, Ed dropped to his knees and looked down at Molly’s prone body.

  ‘Hang on in there, girl,’ he whispered as the outline of the coastguard’s red rescue vessel rounded the headland.

  *

  ‘You must be the owners of the luckiest dog in Cornwall.’ Paul’s face was one huge grin as he jumped out of his jeep and led Molly to the door of the cottage.

  The four family members threw themselves at their beloved pooch. Molly couldn’t believe the overwhelming but welcome attention she was receiving.

  ‘We pulled up in the boat and she jumped up straightaway, barking like a good ’un – think she must have been asleep.’

  ‘Well, that’s one way of dealing with a crisis!’ Charlotte regarded her dog with admiration while Molly gazed back at her dopily from beneath her fringe, her fluffy tail wagging furiously.

  Alex hugged Molly more tightly than anyone else and buried her face in the dog’s mane. ‘Molly, you big hairy twit.’

  ‘You all right?’ asked Josh, coming up the path behind his father.

  Alex stood up and waved for him to join her. The two of them went to sit on the low dry stone wall that enclosed the front garden, their heads close together, engrossed in conversation.

  ‘She’ll be fine.’

  ‘We can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.’ Ed took Paul’s hand and clasped it gratefully in thanks.

  ‘Just another day for the coastguard, no ’arm done and all’s ended well. I’ve earned me pint tonight, that’s for sure.’

  ‘We owe you more than a pint,’ Charlotte said with feeling.

  ‘I’ll hold you to that!’ Paul winked at her, then returned to his jeep, waiting patiently in the driver’s seat while Josh and Alex swapped numbers. Then Josh jumped in and they drove off.

  ‘I hope we see them again,’ said Alex, joining her mother on the sofa.

  Charlotte put an arm around her daughter. ‘I’m sure we will, darling. We all want to come back here, even Molly does.’ Molly wagged her tail at the sound of her name.

  Alex’s face was buried in her hoodie and Charlotte could feel her shoulders shaking as more tears came. They’d all had a big fright today, so she wasn’t surprised that Alex was still feeling fragile.

  ‘I’m sorry I called you a shit and pushed you over,’ Alex told Sam.

  ‘What?’ Sam looked up from his iPad, where he’d been engrossed in his new obsession – Surf World. ‘Oh, that? Don’t sweat it.’

  Alex smiled through her tears. ‘You are annoying, though.’

  Ed squeezed in next to his wife and daughter on the sofa. He gave Sam the head nod that said Hop it. Sam rolled his eyes at his dad’s unsubtle hint, but for once restrained himself from making a clever remark.

  ‘Come on, Molly – let’s go bark at that cat that keeps hanging around for scraps outside.’ He bounded out of the back door, followed by the luckiest dog in Cornwall.

  Alex continued to hold on to her mum, and Charlotte was reminded of when Alex was a baby, hating to be put down or held by anyone else. Those days were long ago, but it seemed her little girl still needed her mum after all.

  ‘What is it, darling? Is there something else upsetting you?’

  Alex didn’t say anything but the question brought on a torrent of tears. Ed came and joined them on the sofa.

  ‘You can tell me and your mum anything,’ he said encouragingly.

  ‘Not anything!’

  ‘Of course you can!’ Charlotte squeezed her daughter’s hand. ‘Is it something or someone at school? Is it about your new friend – Lily? She’s not being horrid, is she?

  At this there was a fresh bout of sobbing. ‘No, Lily’s amazing, I … I …’ Alex hesitated and her parents held their breath. ‘I … I’ve got feelings for her … I think I might be gay!’

  Charlotte and Ed exchanged a brief wide-eyed look, then immediately rushed to reassure her with shushes, hugs and soothing words.

  ‘We love you no matter who you have feelings for,’ Charlotte said forcefully. ‘Don’t we, Ed?’

  ‘Absolutely! You mean the world to us and as long as you’re happy, that’s good enough for us.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really, really,’ they both said in unison.

  Alex sniffed and wiped her nose on her cuff. ‘It’s just that Josh … today … he was so nice. We exchanged numbers.’

  ‘Darling girl,’ said Charlotte, holding Alex to her tightly, ‘you’re still working things out. You don’t have to be anything yet. Growing up isn’t easy and you’ll take a few different turns along the way, but you’ll sort it out eventually.’

  ‘You don’t need to rush anything,’ agreed Ed.

  ‘You remember Gloria – my best friend from university?’ said Charlotte.

  Alex nodded. ‘The one with those annoying twins: Gina and Angelina.’

  ‘And two annoying ex-husbands!’ Charlotte laughed. ‘Well, when we were students, she was head of the Student Lesbian and Gay Alliance. She had a very handsome girlfriend called Mogs and they were inseparable.’

  Alex raised her eyebrows in astonishment.

  ‘You can ask her next time you see her – Gloria’s proud of her past. The thing is, people change – it’s natural. If you care about someone, all you want is for them to be happy. Nothing else matters.’

  *

  After a Chinese takeaway from Trevay, Alex had gone upstairs and Charlotte had tucked her in as if she were a little girl again. Then she came down and joined Ed on the sofa with a bottle of red wine.

  ‘What a day!’ Ed exhaled loudly. ‘Do you think she’s gay?’

  Charlotte thought about it for a moment. ‘Not sure. Maybe. Maybe not. Does it bother you?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Good.’

  They sipped their drinks in silence for a while. Then:

  ‘Charlotte …’

  ‘Ed …’

  They spoke at the same time and an awkwardness descended over them.

  Not again, Ed thought anxiously.

  ‘There’s something I need to tell you …’ There was something ominous in her tone.

  ‘It’s about Henry, isn’t it?’

  Charlotte looked confused. ‘Well, yes – how did you know?’

  All Ed’s anxieties came bursting to the surface. ‘I just do,’ he blurted. ‘And I know what you’re going to say – I saw the texts.’

  Charlotte was frowning. ‘What texts?’

  ‘The ones that said, “I love you …”, “I can’t live without you”.’

  He watched realisation dawn on her face, steeling himself for the bombshell to drop, for her to tell him that it was all over between them, that she was leaving. Instead she did the last thing he’d expected: she burst out laughing.

  Lost for words, Ed looked at her aghast. How could she find anything amusing in this?

  ‘Oh, Ed!’ She tried to compose herself but couldn’t stop the hilarity from bubbling over. ‘Your face is a picture!’

  ‘Charlotte, I don’t understand, what—’

  She touched his face tenderly. ‘No, you don’t understand, do you? After all your years in the business, I’d have thought you understood loveydom! Henry didn’t mean me, he meant this.’ She took her phone from her p
ocket, scrolled through her gallery until she came to a series of photographs, and held it out for Ed to see.

  Ed found himself looking at the most extraordinary theatre set – and it was clearly Charlotte’s design, he’d recognise her style anywhere. ‘What is it?’

  ‘The set of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It’s Henry’s production and my set.’

  Ed knew his wife was supremely talented, but the innovative way that Charlotte had created an ice forest and integrated the vast wardrobe was extraordinary. He scrolled down: there was Badger’s cosy underground set, the White Witch’s palace, the stone table and Cair Paravel – it was breathtaking.

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve done all this.’ Though really he could.

  ‘The production’s been a huge success.’ She paused and took a deep breath. ‘Such a success that it’s transferring to the West End. Henry wants me on board – he’s asked me to go with him.’

  Ed didn’t know what to say. Once again, he’d been struck dumb by Charlotte coming out with a momentous announcement that was going to change their lives.

  He looked at his wife’s face and saw in it the same girl who’d told him she was pregnant all those years ago. The woman who had given up everything for him and for their family.

  A brief look of anguish crossed her face, but then it was gone and she set her lips in a thin line. ‘Of course, I know I can’t go – Alex and Sam need one of us at home, and your job is too important to jeopardise. It was stupid for me to even consider it.’ She placed her glass on the table and made to stand up, as if the conversation was over. Ed pulled her back down and held her face in his hands. He was determined that this time he was going to get it right.

  ‘Charlotte Appleby, my beautiful, talented wife. You’ve given me more than I could ever have expected and you’ve done the most amazing job of raising our children. I’d be a big wet puddle of worry and stress without you to keep me steady. I would literally go to the ends of the earth if you asked me to. So, if this is what you want, then we’re going to make it happen.’

  Charlotte looked at him, incredulous. ‘Do you mean that?’

  ‘Yes. I mean it more than anything I’ve said in my whole life. You’ve done your bit and now it’s my turn. I’ll tell Pen that she can promote Cassie. I can supervise from afar when necessary and do consultancy work, when I’m not too busy being a househusband, that is.’

  ‘You mean you’ll do all the cooking?’

  ‘Yes. I doubt I can manage a prawn surprise, but I think the world will thank me for that, don’t you?’

  ‘Hey!’ She gave him a playful punch. ‘And all the cleaning?’

  ‘I’ll even wear a pinny.’

  ‘Why do I find that image strangely erotic?’

  ‘Because you’re a bit kinky?’

  ‘I thought you’d forgotten.’

  ‘Impossible.’ And, before he could say anything else, Charlotte straddled her husband and started to remove his clothes.

  EPILOGUE

  Charlotte shook her children gently awake as the sun appeared below the horizon.

  ‘We’re here.’

  There was much moaning and groaning from the back.

  ‘Mum, why are we doing this again? We already did it on the way.’ Sam stretched his arms and let out a huge yawn.

  ‘I know, but this time we’ve got hot chocolate.’ She poured each of them half a beakerful from a brightly coloured Thermos. They all sipped at their cups for a few moments.

  ‘Ready?’ Ed asked as he collected up their cups.

  ‘No, it’s freezing!’

  ‘Then bring your blankets!’

  He opened the door of the Volvo and the four of them headed along Stonehenge Avenue to the row of beech trees.

  They sat down on a waterproof picnic blanket and settled themselves in. Molly gambolled around the field ahead, chasing the flocks of early-morning starlings as they started up their dawn chorus.

  The rosy-coloured fingers of dawn crept above the horizon and the sun rose quickly into the morning sky, its golden rays illuminating the ancient triptychs of Stonehenge below them. They watched in silence.

  ‘What do you think?’ Charlotte asked the children, drinking in the sight. ‘This is the best time to see it. Are you more impressed this time?’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Alex.

  ‘I still think it’s a bit small,’ Sam said, then added quickly, ‘But it’s pretty cool, I suppose.’

  Ed looked at his wife ruefully. ‘Kids are always difficult to please – there’s no such thing as perfection.’

  ‘No.’ But Charlotte wanted this moment to last for ever. The four of them, here together. Her family. ‘Except perhaps right here, right now.’ She leaned in to kiss her husband.

  ‘Urgh! Get a room!’ Sam and Alex shrieked, then ran away across the field, chasing after Molly, scattering the starlings as the sun rose over Salisbury Plain.

  1

  ‘What on earth?’ Penny Leighton grappled at the side of her bed, trying to locate her mobile phone as it rang loudly somewhere close by. She blinked, bleary-eyed, at the blue fascia of her iPhone 5 as it flashed insistently at her in the darkness of the bedroom. The usually jaunty, old-fashioned ringtone was the last thing she wanted to hear at six in the morning. This morning in particular. Who the hell was ringing her at this ungodly hour?

  Penny sat bolt upright in bed as she saw the caller’s name appear.

  ‘Audrey bloody Tipton!!’ Penny angrily pressed the silent button and shoved the vibrating phone back under her pillow.

  ‘What is that woman pestering me for now?’ Penny turned over in the bed, directing the question to where her husband Simon ought to be, but was surprised to see that his side of the bed was empty. The Right Reverend Simon Canter, vicar of Pendruggan, was normally an early riser, as members of the clergy tended to be, but she hadn’t anticipated that he would have got up at this unearthly hour. After all, it was a Tuesday, no early services today, and last night they’d both got to bed late. Penny was the sole owner of Penny Leighton Productions, a successful TV production company that had a string of prime-time successes under its belt. Her latest hit was a TV show called Mr Tibbs, based on the mystery stories of Mavis Carew. The series was filmed in and around Pendruggan, a small, unspoilt Cornish village that Penny had discovered when her best friend Helen Merrifield decided to make a fresh start there after divorcing her philandering husband. Penny had come for a visit and ended up finding not only the perfect location for Mr Tibbs but the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Though she would never have imagined herself as a vicar’s wife, she’d never been happier. Her loving and gentle husband, with his chocolate-brown eyes and soft-spoken voice, had brought out the best in Penny and she had no regrets about upping sticks to move to Cornwall. Or at least, not until this morning.

  Knowing that Simon was up and about, Penny found it impossible to settle back to sleep. She swung her legs out of the bed and reached for her satin dressing gown, which was hanging on a peg nearby. Then she went to the window and pulled open the heavy curtains, which kept out even the most persistent sunshine.

  It was April and the sky was still tinged with the night, but the purple and pink fingertips of dawn were already starting to snake their way across the horizon.

  ‘Mmm. Red sky in the morning,’ Penny observed. ‘Looks like bad weather. Again.’

  She trudged down the stairs to find that the house was in total darkness, except for Simon’s study, where a gentle light emanated from under the doorway.

  Penny knocked softly and popped her head around the door.

  ‘Morning, Vicar.’

  Simon’s head was buried in what appeared to be the parish appointments diary. Penny could tell from the way his fingertips were pressed against his furrowed brow that he was feeling harassed.

  ‘Oh, good morning, darling.’ He looked up from his desk, blinking at her through his glasses. ‘Sorry, did I wake you?’

  ‘I’m not su
re it is quite morning yet,’ Penny replied. ‘And no, it wasn’t you who woke me, it was a phone call from that busybody, Audrey Tipton.’

  ‘Really, what did she want?’

  ‘Dunno – I cut her off.’ Penny looked down at her iPhone. ‘But it looks as though she left me a message.’

  ‘You should be having a lie-in. You look done in.’

  ‘I feel done in. The last few weeks have been really gruelling. I’m so exhausted, I couldn’t even enjoy the wrap party.’

  ‘I’m sorry you had to go alone, darling, but there was so much to do here,’ he sighed guiltily.

  Penny walked over to her husband and gave his balding head a kiss. ‘Oh, stuff that. You didn’t miss anything: it was only the usual shenanigans. The lead actors all lording it over each other and getting pissed while the runners and researchers snogged one another.’ She peered at the papers spread over his desk. ‘What’s the problem? Is there anything I can do to help?’

  Simon put down his pen, took off his glasses and ran a hand anxiously over his shining scalp. ‘It’s this whole business with the new vicar at St Peter’s.’

  The church of St Peter’s was in Trevay, the nearest town and a thriving seaside resort. It had been without its own vicar for months and Simon had been asked by the bishop to help out with services until a suitable candidate was found to fill the post. As if it wasn’t enough having two congregations to minister to, Simon was also expected to supervise the builders carrying out restorations to St Peter’s bell tower. As a result, the last few weeks had been as gruelling for him as they had for Penny. They’d barely had a moment to themselves and were both exhausted.

  ‘The verger at St Peter’s Church has been taken ill,’ Simon told her. ‘He’s been a godsend, helping me out with the services and keeping things ticking over. Without him, I just don’t know how I’m going to cope. We’ve got two funerals scheduled tomorrow morning – one here and one in Trevay – at the same time, so I’m going to have to phone around and find someone to officiate.’ He looked up at her despairingly. ‘And it doesn’t end there. Until the verger recovers, I’ll have to cut evensong down here so that I can dash over to Trevay to take the six p.m. service, and then there’s—’