A Cornish Stranger Read Online Free PDF Page B

Everything was always ‘fine’, which said nothing at all. And though Gabriella worked like a demon on her music, it was not her singing but her music. When Jaunty listened it was beautiful and sad, but it wasn’t enough to sustain a passionate woman – and Gabriella was passionate, Jaunty knew it.
    She was, what, thirty? Jaunty wasn’t sure. She could be younger or older. Jaunty should know Gabriella’s age. Her daughter-­in-law had gone into labour a month early and it was so cold so it must have been winter. Philip, dear Philip . . . He had still been at sea on a rig somewhere and her daughter-in-law had died by the time he’d reached her. Heartbreaking.
    Jaunty puzzled how some events like Alex threading flowers through her hair in the summer of 1939 were so clear, but the date her only grandchild had been born had disappeared. Her mind was too full. A life too long does that and the brain picks and chooses what it wants to hold on to. She had no control. She still had her wits, but not all her memories, and certainly not all that she sought to keep. No, her devious mind had selected the memories to hold tight to and who was she to tell it it was wrong.
    Gabriella placed a bowl of prunes in front of her. ‘Is there anything in particular that you want to do today?’
    Jaunty raised an eyebrow. ‘Run a marathon?’ Gabriella knew there was little that Jaunty could do any more because taking anything but a few steps was too painful. However, Gabriella was putting a bright face on it as she had always done, and her smile lit the room.
    â€˜The day is fine so I will sit on the terrace and watch the birds,’ Jaunty said. How they tormented her with their freedom. But this was not new. They had done this since the day she was plucked out of the sea by a fisherman and brought to Falmouth, to live thereafter in a cage of her own making.
    â€˜Are you sure?’ Gabriella wrinkled her nose again.
    â€˜Please stop that! You will give yourself unnecessary lines.’ Jaunty sucked some air into her lungs. She knew she shouldn’t snap, but her fuse had never been long. Her mother’s cautionary words about appearance and freckles echoed in Jaunty’s mind. Gabe mustn’t be so careless with hers.
    As Gabriella cleared the plates, Jaunty noted her granddaughter appeared almost hollow, a skeleton of the woman she used to be. Gabriella thought she was doing the right thing by coming here; she was good like her father and grandfather had been. But deep inside something had altered her. She lived alone and Jaunty knew she was lonely, which was one reason why she was here.
    But an old woman was not the company she needed. Jaunty’s fingers moved around the rim of the teacup, enjoying the delicate feel of something that, although beautiful, was robust enough to hold its scalding contents. Could Gabriella become strong again or would she let whatever had happened defeat her? Jaunty sighed inwardly. She herself had become resilient, but she had lost so much that wholeness was never possible, not when you were not who you said you were.
    â€˜Wrinkles are good. Look at yours.’ Gabriella smiled and those beautiful eyes glinted with laughter.
    â€˜I am an exceedingly old woman and I have earned mine. Gabriella, you are a woman in your prime – your face is as important as your voice or your hands.’
    Gabriella lifted her chin then turned away. This argument had been raised too many times. She hadn’t listened then and Jaunty knew she was a fool if she thought her granddaughter would now. She was a woman – a broken woman – not a child. Gabriella had matured into someone as stubborn as Jaunty had been. It would do her good to remember that, but her mind refused to accept it. Jaunty wanted Gabriella fixed and as whole as she could be.
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    The dew soaked the bottom of Gabe’s jeans as she walked through the overgrown grass to reach the