Coming Home: An uplifting feel good novel with family secrets at its heart

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1993: The Night Sennen Ran Away

Down the narrow lane she ran. Down to the bus shelter. It was empty. Her pulse was thumping at the base of her throat. She looked at her watch – eleven forty-five – and checked all around her again.

‘Hiya,’ said a voice in the shadows.

Sennen jumped. ‘You scared me.’

‘My dad took ages going to bed!’

Sennen shrugged. ‘Are you nervous?’

‘A bit.’ Rosemary was Sennen’s oldest school friend. She was shivering. ‘A bit cold, too.’

Sennen checked to see if anyone had spotted them. The coast was clear.

‘Let’s do it,’ she said. ‘Come on.’

They walked up the hill and out of the village, leaving Trevay and its sleeping inhabitants behind.

At the top of the hill the two girls stopped and looked around. The moon was streaked across the low tide and the black silhouettes of the roofs and church spire were geometric and inky against the horizon.

Sennen blew out a long stream of breath.

‘You sure you’re cool about this?’ asked Rosemary.

‘Yeah.’

‘Henry and Ella will be all right?’

‘Yeah.’

The main road out of Cornwall was ahead of them. ‘Listen,’ said Sennen. ‘Car.’

A set of headlights came into view and Sennen stuck her thumb out. ‘It’s now or never.’

The car slowed and stopped. ‘Where are you going?’ asked the lone, middle-aged woman driver.

‘Plymouth, please,’ said Sennen.

‘Both of you?’ asked the woman, clocking their appearance and their rucksacks. ‘Running away?’

‘No,’ said Sennen, ‘it’s my parents. They’re in France, on holiday. Our dad’s been taken ill so we’re catching the overnight ferry to see him. Mum said to hitch. We haven’t got much money, you see.’

‘Roscoff?’ asked the woman.

Rosemary couldn’t speak but Sennen said, ‘Yeah.’

‘You’re lucky it was me who stopped, then,’ said the woman, reaching round to unlock the door to the back seat. ‘There are a lot of funny people about. Hop in.’

Sennen got into the front seat, leaving Rosemary to get in the back.

‘Thank you very much,’ said Sennen. ‘My sister and I are ever so grateful, aren’t we, Sally?’

Sennen looked around at ‘Sally’ with a cheeky grin. ‘Aren’t we?’

‘Yes. V-very,’ stammered Rosemary. ‘Thank you.’

‘Hello, Sally and …?’ said the woman looking in her wing mirror and pulling away.

‘Oh, I’m Carrie,’ said Sennen with conviction. ‘What are you doing out so late tonight?’

‘I’m a midwife. Just delivered twins. Two little boys. Identical. I’m on my way home now.’

‘That’s nice,’ said Sennen. ‘Sally and I are twins too. Not identical though.’

The journey was remarkable only for the number of stories Sennen could weave about her bond with her twin, their father’s weak heart and their mother’s enormous worry about them all. Finally, the illuminated gates of the ferry terminal were in front of them.

‘We’ll jump out here, please,’ said Sennen, feeling a fresh thrust of nerves and adrenalin.

‘Sure? I can take you to the ticket office if you like?’

Sennen and Rosemary were already climbing out of the car. ‘No, this is fine. We’ve got our tickets. Bye.’ They shut the doors and waved at the woman who was doubtful about leaving them but she was tired and ready for bed and the girls seemed nice and sensible so she waved to them and headed for home.

The girls shouldered their rucksacks and headed off to the ticket office. ‘Two tickets for Spain, please,’ said Sennen as she delved into her bag for her wallet and passport.

‘Santander return?’ asked the tired man behind the glass.

‘We’re not sure when we’re coming back,’ said Rosemary, finding her courage.

‘Two singles, then.’ The man didn’t look up as he printed out the tickets and took the cash. ‘Follow the signs to the ferry. Sails in twenty-five minutes.’

The two girls spotted the signs and ran to the boat. They clattered onto the gangway, laughing and breathless. Stepping on to the deck, Sennen dropped her rucksack and hugged Rosemary. ‘We’ve only bloody done it! We’re on our way to Spain.’

In Trevay, Ella woke and began screaming from her cot. Adela woke too. She listened. Would Sennen get up and see to her? After a couple of minutes, with Ella’s crying becoming more agitated, the answer was clearly, no.

Adela didn’t want Bill to be disturbed. He would stop her from helping, so she got out of bed as quietly as she could and padded onto the landing. Sennen’s door was closed. Sighing with frustration and irritation at her daughter’s lack of commitment to her children, she crept into the children’s room.

Ella had managed to pull herself up by the cot rails, her tear-streaked face scarlet with the effort of crying.

The crying stopped when she saw her grandmother, to be replaced with shuddering gulps.

‘Come on, you,’ said Adela, lifting Ella into her arms. She put her hand under Ella’s bottom and felt the damp creeping through her baby-gro. ‘Got a wet bum, have you? Let’s get you comfortable.’

Adela changed Ella’s nappy and Baby-gro then walked around the small room with her granddaughter on her shoulder, cooing soft words until the precious baby rubbed her eyes and grew limp. Back in her cot with teddy close by, Adela left Ella sleeping. On her way back to her own bed she glanced at her daughter’s closed door and forgave her her selfishness. What seventeen-year-old, with A levels looming, wouldn’t be asleep?