by Liz Fenwick
When Rebecca issued an invitation to join her family near Falmouth I leapt at the opportunity. It saved me, and the summer of 1939 is as fresh in my mind now as if it was yesterday. Grandmother was pleased to be relieved of me, and it was a time of madness and magic.
From the moment Rebecca and her brother Alex collected me from the station and took me to the rambling Victorian house in Flushing, I knew my life would change. Alex wasn’t there the whole time. He had joined the army after university and was working at the war office in London. My schoolgirl crush on him hadn’t abated at all, but what had changed was Alex’s attitude to me. He couldn’t take his eyes off me – and I was the same.
I was bereft when he disappeared back to London, and spent my time being the third wheel with Rebecca and the boy who lived next door. Her mother was keen to encourage this relationship and long days were spent on the beach, walking and messing about in boats. I counted the days until Alex would be back. No one expected us to fall in love, but we had and we grabbed moments alone on the pretext of Alex teaching me to sail. Those were precious hours spent on the water, although at first it was just the brush of a hand or the connection of a tanned leg against mine.
Thoughts of Alex distracted her from her task and Jaunty shook her head. She must write down only what Gabriella needed to know in order to make some sense of Jaunty’s life.
Gabe wanted to do her vocal exercises, but thus far her shadow, Fin, was always with her. They had arrived back at the cabin and he asked to use the phone. As soon as he was on it Gabe walked out to the studio. Once inside she locked the door and began the exercises to open her chest. Every muscle in her body felt as if it was curled into a tight ball. She knew that standing under a hot stream of water would help, but that brought back memories of last night, which reminded her of the nightmare she’d woken up from. After that fateful final performance and hours in the police station, she had stood under the running water for ages, but it hadn’t washed anything away except the scent of him. Although that had been a start.
The big window in the studio framed the sunlight playing on the river. Gabe sighed and then pushed a deep breath out and pulled her arms back, but they only went so far. She repeated the exercise and each time her arms moved a centimetre further. She bent slowly from the waist, letting her upper body hang. Rolling up one vertebra at a time, she raised her arms above her head, poised herself on one foot – and toppled over. Nothing worked. She went back to stretching her chest muscles and when they had reached half her normal expansion she began the scales. At first her voice was hollow but with each repetition it gained strength. Had she stayed the course she would only now be coming into her voice. But she hadn’t.
She opened the piano and played the scales, but the piano was off and her hand ached. What day was today? When was the tuner due? She closed her eyes. Life had stepped out of line. Somewhere, since she had been here, it had gone off track and she needed to put it back to rights.
She moved on to singing arpeggios, but she was slipping and the notes were not clean. She slowed down. Everything about her at the moment wanted to race. She counted to ten, controlling her breathing before beginning again. The notes became clearer. Flipping through the sheet music, she came to Tosca. Her hand stilled. She hadn’t been able to remove it from her thoughts since this morning.
Maria Lucia’s haunting rendition of the Puccini floated in her head. She hadn’t listened to Tosca in four years. He had stolen that from her as well as everything else. But she could claim this back at least; she was strong enough. Closing her eyes she began ‘Vissi d’arte’. The pain inside her flowed out into the lyrics and she visualised the words anger, despair and pain floating in the space around as she let the song fill her and the studio.
The last note left her and she collapsed on to the floor, tears slipping down her cheeks. What on earth had made her sing that? She wasn’t as strong as she’d thought. Gabe rose from the floor and looked around. To regain control of her emotions she needed to focus on the practical things. Glancing about the studio, she saw she would need to find sheets and blankets for the bed. Hopefully Fin wouldn’t be here too long, because he unsettled her. She didn’t know why she felt that way, but she did. The grey painting sat on the easel, blocking the view from the bed. Gabe took the painting off and placed it carefully aside. The easel folded effortlessly and she put this on the floor near the window. Her piano was already standing to one side. Before closing the door behind her, she took one last look through the big window. Sunlight reflected off the water in bright diamonds. She sighed. With that view he’d never leave.
Jaunty could just make out the sound of Gabriella singing in the studio. It was Tosca. The emotion caught her, making it difficult to swallow. How could the child know that much pain? Her voice ripped through the defences around Jaunty’s heart and she could hear her mother. She blinked. At her age how could she still long for her? Long for the stroke of a hand, a sparkling laugh, a lullaby. All Jaunty had were the old records with their scratches and distortions, but Gabriella’s voice touched her.
Jaunty pushed the tears away but couldn’t stop them. She moved back from the desk and walked to the window. Sunlight glinted off the wake of a motorboat heading towards Gweek, but the view of the river offered no consolation this time. Despite her internal agony, the tide would continue to turn. Why was she crying now? Surely the time for tears had passed.
There was a slight cough. Fin stood just behind Jaunty. He placed a hand on her shoulder and the small action was too much: she sobbed and gasped, unable to speak. The cries wracked her frame and she couldn’t stop them. He turned her around and pulled her into his arms. She collapsed against him, taking the comfort of a stranger. The more she wept, the less strength she had left and eventually he was supporting her completely.
Finally Jaunty lifted her head.
‘Better?’ he asked.
‘No, that’s impossible.’ She forced her legs to work and pulled back. She wobbled and he was at her side, helping her to reach the bed. His shirt was soaked with her tears. She felt for the hankie in her pocket and blew her nose. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’ He studied her. ‘Was it Gabriella’s singing?’
Jaunty loved the shadows created on his face from his cheekbones, so like Alex. ‘Yes, it broke the dam.’
‘A long time in the making?’
‘Yes.’ She gave a short laugh, not quite a snort or a sigh.
‘She has an incredible voice.’
‘She does.’ Jaunty paused to see if she could still hear Gabriella, but the there was only silence. ‘We are privileged to hear her.’
‘Surely that is how she earns her living?’
‘No, she composes ditties for commercials.’ Jaunty pushed herself off the bed. ‘I need tea.’
‘Let me.’
‘Thank you, but I need to move.’ She walked to the door and turned back to see him looking on her desk. She hesitated. ‘Actually, would you make the tea?’
He looked up. ‘Of course.’ He smiled at her and she went to her desk after he’d left the room. She viewed what she’d left out, wondering if there was anything there that could expose her – but wasn’t that what she wanted?
Gabe left the studio and walked away from the cabin, which was snug enough with two of them living there, but with three it would be far too small. And Fin altered the atmosphere. He was like the east wind, which cleared the skies but ruffled the waters. Was it his testosterone or was it just him? He was intense. He’d said very little about himself, certainly hadn’t given enough information to give him a bed for more than a night. How did they know they could trust him? He could be a reporter, Gabe fretted. After all, a few had tried to get interviews with Jaunty over the years.
Gabe walked the lower path along the creek. She couldn’t walk as quickly as she wanted to because the way was still treacherous with wet, fallen le
aves, making it slippery. She should have taken a different route to where the hillside was filled with ripe damsons and blackberries.
Near the creek she climbed down the bank. Gabe picked up a stick and chucked it into the water. It swirled around before catching a current and making its way out towards the river. Right at this moment she felt like that stick, being pushed and pulled by the current, unable to stop the forward motion to the wider waters ahead. She was in control of her own fate, but she knew only too well that sometimes life took control. And when it did there was nothing she could do. That wasn’t the case right now. She could tell Fin to leave. It was simple: take him aside and ask him to go. She turned and walked back to the cabin.
The problem was that he was too attractive. But she couldn’t place just what it was about him that made him so appealing. His features on their own were handsome, but not extraordinary, except for the knowing eyes and the full mouth. Gabe blinked. No, she didn’t want to think about him at all. Just this slight digression raised her temperature.
In the distance she could see Fin standing with a phone to his ear. Moving closer, she could hear his voice.
‘Enough, Patricia! I gave you the flat and you took the cat and the car.’
Gabe hid behind a tree, wondering what to do. She might know nothing about him and want to know more, but eavesdropping wasn’t the way to go about it. Retracing her steps down the path, she realised there was something familiar about him. He was like an itch that she couldn’t reach.
She stopped walking when she couldn’t hear his voice, then turned around and headed to the cabin again, hoping he had finished his call. She saw Fin spin, looking as if he was going to throw his phone into the creek, but he brought his arm down again and slipped it into his pocket. He took three deep breaths, then walked slowly back into the house with his face revealing none of the emotion Gabe had just witnessed. How could he control his feelings like that? Gabe could only do that if she didn’t allow them in the first place.
Jaunty relaxed. There was nothing on the pages that Fin could have seen that would have told him anything. Maybe he hadn’t been looking at the diary but at the sketches. She laughed when she studied her nude drawing of him. How would he feel about that? Somehow she didn’t think it would bother him.
In the kitchen, she found the back door open and the tea made, but no Fin. The deep timbre of his voice was audible but not the words. Jaunty poured herself a mug of tea and walked back to her desk. She felt a new spring in her step and knew it was because of having this man about the place. She also knew that underneath she was still weary, so she must make use of this burst of energy and get the truth down.
Jaunty stopped and looked at her sketches of Fin. This is what Alex would have looked like had he made it to his thirties. His cheekbones would have become more pronounced, like Fin’s, and maybe the blond hair would have darkened.
The day before I was due to leave, and despite the all-present talk of war, Alex and I sailed around to the Helford. The sun warmed our skin and we anchored in Frenchman’s Creek. We shared a picnic and our kisses became heated. Before long we had tied up the boat on an old quay and climbed the bank to a cabin. Blackberries were in abundance on the hillside and we gathered the ripe ones as we climbed. We called hello around the cabin but no one was home. Finding a sunny spot between the pine trees, we fed each other the bittersweet fruit. Dreams . . . How we shared dreams. We would buy the cabin and it would become ours and ours alone.
He looked at me with such longing – and I knew I loved him. With blackberries still staining out lips, we kissed and before long innocent caresses had moved beyond the point of no return . . .
Alex proposed to me and I accepted. We’d sat on the bank looking upriver and made plans. I could see our future so clearly. He wanted me to finish my final year in Paris. We knew the war was coming, but looking out on the Helford in the sunshine we still thought it far enough away from us. We agreed that next summer we would be wed and we would keep our secret until I was home at Christmas, then tell the families.
Tears flowed down Jaunty’s face. Oh, such lovely dreams.
At the sound of Gabriella and Fin talking in the kitchen, Jaunty put her pen down and hid the notebook. She did not want it found before the time was right. Most importantly, she did not want to talk about it. That would be too hard. If Gabriella could read the truth after Jaunty was gone and then digest it, that would be enough. Jaunty couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the disappointment on Gabriella’s face, because the way Jaunty had actually lived went against everything Jaunty had taught her granddaughter.
There was a tap at the door. ‘I’ve made some dinner.’ Gabriella stood in the doorway, not coming into the room. Jaunty frowned. This wasn’t normal.
‘Lovely. Are we eating outside?’
‘If you’d like.’
‘Yes.’ Jaunty levered herself out of the chair. Her hip joints had stiffened while she’d sat. Gabriella was still standing in the doorway watching her. It was almost as if her granddaughter was seeing her for the first time – and maybe she was. Jaunty felt she was doing the same, seeing herself for what she was: a liar and a thief, and more.
Gabe steadied Fin’s boat as he climbed aboard. It was going to be towed to the boatyard in Falmouth for repair. She handed him the empty plastic shopping bags and waited while she heard him move about the cabin. Something about this whole thing was wrong. Not the part about helping out someone in need – he didn’t appear needy. He was well spoken, owned a boat, and appeared to be in control of everything, except maybe his ex-wife. Didn’t he have a job he needed to go off and do?
He walked on to the sloping deck and handed several bags to her. ‘Just a few more things and the rest should be fine to leave on the boat for a while.’
‘OK.’ Gabe took the bags and carefully placed them in a dry spot on the dinghy. Fin disappeared again and Gabe debated looking into the bags. What would the contents tell her about the stranger in their midst?
Gabe checked to make sure that Fin was still inside the boat and began to rummage through the bags. It was mostly clothes and the odd book. His reading choice was intriguing. John Le Carre, Dorothy L Sayers and Shakespeare. She closed one bag and peered in another one, but stopped when she heard his footsteps.
‘That should do it.’ He held several more bags and a laptop in a protective case. Gabe wondered why he hadn’t moved it earlier. She wouldn’t have left hers unattended in a boat. She looked to the field above. It was filled with cows ready for milking. OK, maybe she was being hard on him. He was a man who had happened to chat to Jaunty and then had had the bad luck to have been caught in a storm and nearly drowned. She should cut him some slack. She didn’t have to look for the worst in everyone; she had been doing that too long.
The bags safely stored, Gabe went to the far side to balance the boat as Fin stepped in, smiling.
‘Thanks for the help.’
He had a grin that made a mockery of her fears, transforming his serious face to one that was almost childlike. She smiled back. ‘No problem,’ she said, then looked away. It was a problem, but she was going to try and be grown up about this. It was time she moved on, even just a bit. She could be gracious. It was in her somewhere. Well, it used to be.
They set off. Above, the sky was dark blue as the last of the colour of the sunset disappeared, and this evening a wind blew in from the mouth of the river, whipping the surface into little waves. It worked against them. Gabe watched his back while he rowed and a feeling stirred inside her. She tensed. She might be willing to tap into her once-pleasant self, but she wasn’t willing to go to the place of attraction, the place where she made herself vulnerable again. It was that vulnerability which had destroyed her and all her dreams.
Eight
Sunlight broke through the clouds and highlighted the bank of oak on Merthen Wood. The light made it appear closer than it was and
Jaunty raised her hand, wanting to touch it – a bit like these memories. Rolling her shoulders back made them ache but Jaunty felt time running away from her. Fin’s presence here was a gift, a gift from the sea. He was bringing the memories back into sharp focus and he could help her if she could trust him.
Telling this tale was never going to be easy, Gabriella. Maybe that is why I have waited so long. I don’t know how much you need to know but I will continue with my memories as they come to me.
When I think back to how naive I was, it frightens me.
I went back to Paris filled with dreams and I left Alex with my heart full. He placed his signet ring on my finger and we stole back to the cabin one more time before I left on the evening train.
The water laps at the stone quay. Alex ties the boat on and flashes me a smile. I swallow down the excitement building in me and grab the picnic basket. I am not hungry for its contents. Alex is what I need, not food or wine. Now that we have broken the restraints I think of nothing else.
He takes my hand and we run up the hill. The cabin is still empty and we spread the blanket on the pine needles. I lie back, seeing the blue sky through the branches, and feel Alex’s hand as it travels up my thigh.
Jaunty shivered. A sleepy wasp came through the window and rested on the edge of her mug. Summer was coming to an end. There was a chill in the wind despite the sun’s warmth, and she must focus on writing for Gabriella.
It hurts even now to think about it, knowing what I know. We lost so much time. But back then my step was full of joy. I placed Alex’s ring on a chain around my neck so that my grandmother wouldn’t question it when I passed through to say goodbye on my way to Paris.
