by Nancy M Bell
The Selkie’s Song
Arabella’s Secret – Book One
By
Nancy M Bell
Digital ISBN
EPUB 978-1-77145-491-9
MOBI 978-1-77145-490-2
PDF 978-1-77145-489-6
PRINT ISBN
978-1-77145-505-3
Published By
Copyright 2015 by Nancy M Bell
Cover Art by Michelle Lee Copyright 2015
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
* * *
Dedication:
For Doug, who never blinks an eye no matter what stray critter I bring home.
Acknowledgments:
Thanks are due to John and Frances Watts of Cornwall for their patience in answering my many questions. I am indebted to my beta-reader and number one fan, Catherine Heer for her advice and comments. This book is better for their involvement and I am most grateful to them.
Chapter One
Arabella Angarrick’s hair whipped in the wind as her black Fell pony careened along the grassy track. Behind her, Sarie’s pony pounded over the soft turf as the gelding fought to catch up with Raven. Her laugh was torn from her mouth and flung back at her best friend on the wild wind that scoured the rocky cliffs above the thundering sea to her left. Sarie shouted something Arabella couldn’t hear over the booming surf. Raven stretched out her neck and grabbed at the bit, obviously enjoying having her head. The savage waves of the Atlantic Ocean crashed on the rocky shore far below the headland where the girls raced. The force flung huge spumes of white, lacy spray that hung in the turbulent air before falling back into the cove to start a new assault. Arabella gloried in the freedom of the afternoon; the harder the wind shrieked, the wilder and more reckless she felt. It was so good not have to worry about who was watching and what they would say to Da about what she was doing, or not doing.
Out here on the moor there was only her, Sarie, and the horses. The dark clouds overhead scudded and gathered against each other as cold rain lashed her face. The wind pressed more moisture from the dark grey ceiling of the sky. Arabella reluctantly straightened in the saddle and pulled Raven back to a trot, and then a walk. The black mare dropped her head and blew gustily to clear the moisture from her nostrils. With a thundering rush, Sarie and Tristan caught up with them and the two girls smiled at each other in shared appreciation of the afternoon.
Bella pulled the hood of her riding coat over her head while Sarie did the same. She let her pony amble along beside Tristan, oblivious to the blustery weather. Rain and wind in March in the southwest corner of Cornwall was more the rule than the exception. They turned off the track near Carn Du and headed inland, passing near an old standing stone. Bella knew most of the menhirs and stone circles in the area. Whenever she could be free of the chores her father set her, Bella spent the time riding the familiar bridleways of the Penwith Peninsula, ranging far and wide from her home in Penzance. She often rode out toward Longrock to meet Sarie. There were more ancient stone circles and monuments in Cornwall than anywhere else in Britain. They fascinated Bella, standing enigmatically in out of the way places on the moor. She spared a moment to contemplate what possible use they might once have had. Sarie led the way onto a narrow hedge bound lane that angled toward Penzance.
“Sarie, if the weather clears, let’s take a picnic up to Lanyan Quoit tomorrow.” Bella loved to sit under the canopy of Lanyon Quoit on soft summer evenings when the mist from the moors rose up to embrace the underside of the thick rain clouds overhead. It would be a might chillier at this time of year, but still worth the ride.
She sighed in contentment, the discomfort of her cold hands and chapped face more than worth the exhilaration of racing along the pathway hugging the rugged coastline. The wind was always fresh coming up the cliffs and valleys, making its first landfall since leaving the Americas far to the west across the vast ocean. She loved it even on days like this when the wind cut through her clothes like a rapier and the rain sluiced down from overhead, driven against the mists fighting to rise against it from the soft wet earth.
The rain continued to fall as they turned the corner leaving Lamorna Cove and the deep rift of Lamorna Valley behind them. Raven and Tristan dropped their heads and carefully picked their way through the mud that had formed on the path since they rode south earlier in the morning. Water ran in heavy rivulets down the thick strands of the full black manes of the ponies. It formed huge crystal drops on the ends of their forelocks before falling unto their broad black noses. The roar of the wind and the rustle of their hoods made talking difficult so Bella rode quietly, lost in her thoughts. She was tired; they had been out all day in the inclement weather. But it was a good tired, her body was wore out with riding and climbing rocks. Her mind distracted from the problems of everyday, now filled with calm, despite the storm raging around them.
London. How was she going to get there? Bella dreamed of being a nurse and training at the King’s College Teaching Hospital at Denmark Hill. She’d inquired about all the teaching hospitals in London and decided King’s College would fit her to a tee. Bella heaved a sigh. Her da didn’t see the sense in sending his daughter all the way to London just so she could empty bedpans for the Londoners when she could just as well work at the Royal Cornwall at Truro. What was wrong with Cornish hospitals, he’d roared at her. No matter how she tried to explain to him that it would be so much better if she could train in London, Da just didn’t understand. London. Bella’s eyes sparkled as she looked down through Raven’s ears, seeing not the muddy coastal path in front of her but the flash and excitement of Trafalgar Square and Piccadilly Circus. When her mum was still living with her da, she used to take Bella up to London every year at Christmas time. The long ride on the train and the treat of eating in a pub and then having gloriously greasy fish and chips wrapped in newspaper to devour on the ride home the next day had been the best part of the year for Bella. The city shone with Christmas lights and gaudy finery. The last year before Mum left, they went to see The Nutcracker performed by the Royal Ballet. It was the most magical thing Bella had ever seen. The theatre was filled with people in the most fabulous outfits. The hats of the ladies adorned with feathers and flowers, some with holly in keeping with the season. Dresses of sumptuous velvet and satin that Bella’s fingers itched to stroke. Their seats had been high up in the balconies and it was hard to see. The world was reduced to the little pool of light and magic on the stage where the story of the Nutcracker unfolded before her eyes. Bella promised herself as she lay in bed that night, too excited to sleep, one day she would live in London and save her money so she could see The Nutcracker every year. And who knew, maybe Swan Lake as well if she was very lucky. But then Mum walked out the door and never looked back.
Bella planned and schemed all through school. There were only so many professions open to a woman. She could be a teacher, a nurse, a nanny, or failing that, her only course would be to marry one of the local boys and start raising a family. Depending on the pilchards and the whims of the ocean.
Bella did not want to be a teacher, or a nanny. But nursing, nursing would be wonderful. She pictured herself walking confidently into a patient’s room. Her hair perfectly coifed beneath her neat starched white hat, a dainty watch pinned to her lapel, her uniform all crisp and pristine. She would smile and the patient would feel immediately better, knowing he was in the care of such a competent nurse. Elaine Kerris, one of the local gi
rls a few years older than Bella, was already training at King’s College. Elaine was full of stories when she came home for holiday about the posh London nightclubs and plays she had seen at the Royal Albert Hall. There was a lot of whispering about the cute interns and the handsome doctors Elaine worked with. She seemed to be having dinner with one or the other almost every weekend. Da said Elaine was full of wind and just putting on airs. No daughter of his was going to London to play the harlot with any Harley Street doctor, rich or no. Sometimes Bella wished Elaine would just shut her trap about the handsome doctors and tell stories about the heroic way she saved some poor blighter’s life. Life, Bella decided, was very unfair.
The sound of macadam under Raven’s hooves startled her. They were entering the outskirts of Mousehole. The little fishing village was hunkered down in the mist which wrapped around the picturesque harbour where the boats bobbed at their moorings or bumped up against the quay.
“Do you want to see if we can put the ponies up at Sam’s and get a ride home?” Sarie’s voice came out of the misty rain behind Bella.
“Ever so much! But I can’t. Da is expecting me home and he’ll never let it rest if I’m late again,” Bella said reluctantly.
“Well we’re almost home anyway,” Sarie said. Although she would have liked nothing better than to knock on Sam Pritchard’s door and enjoy a hot cup of tea by his fire. The ponies all tucked up safe in his stable.
They continued out of Mousehole, past the lifeguard station at Penlee Point and into Newlyn. The rain didn’t slacken in the least and the wind grew colder. Bella wondered what time it was, there was no sun for her to take a guess with and her watch was broken. It couldn’t be more than three o’clock, she reckoned. It had been just past twelve thirty when they turned for home. The rain soaked through her riding coat and her fingers were numb on the reins. She supposed it was a good thing Raven had her fill of galloping up on the cliffs. She could be a right pain once she knew was heading for home. Bella had been seen flying through the streets clinging to Raven’s broad back more than once when the headstrong pony decided her dinner couldn’t wait one second longer. Her da tore a strip off Bella’s hide every time, too. Like she wanted to charge through the market square! But once Raven got the bit in her teeth there was no reasoning with her, it was home by the quickest way and damn the torpedoes. Bella couldn’t tell her da that though or he would sell Raven out from under her so fast it would make her head spin. Finally! They were clattering through the narrow cobble streets of Penzance.
“Do you want to stay over and ride home in the morning, Sarie?” Bella asked.
Sarie lived further on, out toward Marazion. Her mum’s holding was just north of Longrock about halfway between Penzance and Marazion.
“If your da won’t be put out,” Sarie said curtly.
“As long as I have his tea on the table by the time he gets home he won’t have much to say,” Bella said wearily as all the problems and pressures of everyday life in her father’s house fell back on her shoulders like a physical weight.
“Whyn’t I take the ponies and put them up then. You can start tea for your da and be ahead of the game,” Sarie suggested.
The ponies turned willingly into the yard behind Bella’s house. There was a low stone stable with three loose boxes and a feed room against the far side of the yard. Bella slid down from Raven’s back and gave her the lump of molasses candy that she kept in her pocket. Raven lipped it from her hand and butted Bella gently with her nose. Bella gratefully handed her reins to Sarie and ducked in the door to the warm kitchen. Sarie led the ponies across the rain-slick yard and opened the door to Raven’s box. She threw the reins over her head and slapped the pony on the butt as she went by. She led Tristan into the box next to Raven and quickly stripped his tack off him and threw a rug over him to keep out the chill. Next she performed the same tasks for Raven. Soon, the ponies were enjoying their dinner as Sarie rubbed them dry and quartered them for the night. When she could find no other excuse to stay out in the stable yard, Sarie sighed and slopped across the wet yard to the back door. The windows of the kitchen were misted from the heat and the scene inside had an unreal quality to it. Sarie watched as Bella laid the table for tea and took Da’s wet coat to hang by the fire to dry. She shook her head and pushed the door open to the mud room which was just off the kitchen. The sound of the rain covered her entrance and through the half open door Sarie could hear Bella’s da’s voice.
“Ya look like a drowned rat, daughter. What have you and that young guttersnipe Sarie been up to today?” Barney Angarrick’s voice was rough from shouting over the roar of the sea all day.
“Nothin’ much, Da.” Bella didn’t look at her father as she spoke.
Deftly she turned the rashers of bacon in one pan as she flipped the potatoes frying in the other one. Her mass of dark blonde hair fell forward across one shoulder as she worked.
“Don’t lie to me, girl!” Barney growled. “You’ve been riding all over the Hundred of Penwith from what I hear. Wastin’ time you should be using to better advantage.”
Sarie winced at the screech as Barney pulled the chair closer and sat down at the table. She hesitated in the darkness of the mudroom just outside of the slice of light that came in from the kitchen. If Barney was in one of his moods, Sarie would just as soon saddle Tristan again and ride home in the rain. She’d just decided that it might be the better part of valor to just cut her losses and go and fetch Tristan. Bella, with her uncanny knack of knowing things she couldn’t see, looked up toward the mudroom door at just that instant.
“Sarie, there you are!” Bella said with a brittle brightness in her voice. “Thanks for putting Raven away for me. C’mon, tea’s on the table.”
“Evening, Mr. Angarrick.” Sarie walked reluctantly into the warm kitchen and slid into the vacant chair nearest the fire.
Barney acknowledged Sarie’s greeting with a nod and a grunt before he set about making short work of the tea Bella put on the table. The kettle on the stove was whistling as they finished eating. Sarie helped Bella clear the table and carried the big brown pottery teapot over to the table, setting it down at Barney’s left elbow. Barney never raised his head from the racing form he was engrossed in. Without lifting his eyes he reached out and poured himself a third of a cup of milk and then filled the rest with tea. Sarie and Bella washed up in silence. Bella looked pointedly at her Da and rolled her eyes at Sarie. Sarie grinned silently in return. Presently, Barney folded up his paper and rose, stretching his brawny arms over his head.
“Well, I’m off up to the Arms for some gargle,” Barney said to no one in particular, referring to the local pub.
The man pulled his rough cloth cap onto his thick head of hair and shrugged into his waterproof coat as he clumped across the floor into the mudroom to fetch his boots.
“Not a fit night for man nor beast,” Barney remarked as he stepped out into the windy night.
Bella waited until she was sure her Da had really left before she turned and grabbed Sarie’s hands in excitement.
“Look what came in today’s post!” Bella could hardly contain herself.
“What is it? For goodness sake, Bella, stop waving it around so I can see it!” Sarie said in exasperation.
“Here, here. Look, it’s brill, so it is. I can’t believe it.” Bella wrung her hands and danced in place as she handed the slightly crumpled envelope to her friend.
Sarie took it and pulled out the sheaf of papers, quickly scanning the top page of the neat script. When she reached the bottom, Sarie raised her head and looked at Bella in amazement.
“This is from the King’s College Hospital. It says that you’ve been accepted into the School of Nursing,” Sarie said quietly.
“I know, I know! Isn’t it bloody marvelous?” Bella grabbed Sarie around the waist and danced her around the kitchen.
Finally, Bella collapsed into a chair at the table laughing and out of breath. Sarie sat down opposite her and regarded her be
st friend’s flushed and happy face.
“When did you apply? You never told me,” Sarie accused Bella.
“I was a-scared to put the jinx on it. You know, by talking about it,” Bella said sheepishly.
“Well good for you, my gold. I know this is what you want,” Sarie said encouragingly.
“It is. I can’t wait to go up to London on the train and get off at Denmark Hill like some posh lady. I can ask for directions, all casual like, just so that someone will know that I’m accepted at King’s College.” Bella’s eyes were round and full of stars.
“You haven’t told your da yet, have you.” Sarie made the question a statement.
Bella shook her head. “You know I haven’t. He’d have been on me like a fly on horse manure in July.”
“You need to tell him soon. The letter says you have to be in London in just over a fortnight.” Sarie waved the letter at Bella.
“I know I do.” Bella paused. “I was thinking that I might just catch the train and leave Da a letter on the table. I could wait until his boat clears the harbour and catch the late train a day earlier than if I could catch the early one. He couldn’t stop me then.”
“You think he wouldn’t figure out where you went? And that old man Trevethy at the station wouldn’t tell him what the destination was on the ticket you bought?” Sarie was used to Bella proposing wild schemes without thinking them through.
“Well, he would eventually anyway. But once I’m there and I impress the Head Sister with what a good student I am, he won’t be able to make me come home. And Head Sister will praise me so much that Da will have to be proud of me,” Bella reasoned.
