The Newcomer

‘Piran has made his famous lobster curry for you,’ Helen told them. ‘Couldn’t let you go without a proper Saturday night supper in you.’

‘That was delicious,’ Simon said, putting his knife and fork together neatly on his plate.

‘You’ll be eating some different kind of grub in Brazil, I ’spect,’ said Piran, wiping up the last of the curry sauce with a slice of French bread.

‘I’m going to miss you, Uncle Piran.’ Jenna had eaten every scrap. ‘I love your cooking.’

‘Now listen, maid, it won’t be too long before me and thee are back on Trevay harbour pulling in those mackerel.’

‘Can I gut them when I come back? I’ll be eight by then.’

‘Eight, is it? You’m growing up fast. I tell you what, when you get back I’ll have a proper fisherman’s knife waiting for you. How about that?’

Penny butted in, ‘Is that a good idea?’

Simon stopped her. ‘It’s a very good idea. Jenna is growing up a Cornish woman and a Cornish woman knows how to use a knife and gut a fish.’ He turned to Jenna. ‘It’s in your blood.’

‘Is it?’ she asked, looking at her hands and spreading the fingers. ‘Cool.’

‘Absolutely,’ agreed Piran. ‘Now, there’s a little tube of Smarties in the sitting room waiting for you, as long as Jack hasn’t had ’em. You can sit on the sofa and watch some telly together.’

Jenna needed no further encouragement and skipped off, calling Jack to join her.

‘It’s going to be a big change for her,’ said Piran, watching them, ‘but it’ll do her the world of good. Growing up in a little village ain’t always a good thing.’

‘It was good enough for us.’ Simon reminded him. ‘You couldn’t wait to come back after you got your Ph.D. Cornish history is in your DNA.’

‘True, true. But where would I be if I didn’t have you to keep me on the straight and narrow? My best mate a vicar. I’m still in shock.’

Helen placed a cup of coffee in front of him. ‘You’d be a bloody rogue without Simon acting as your conscience. He’s your Jiminy Cricket.’ She handed Penny and Simon their coffees and sat down. ‘So how is tomorrow shaping up? Angela and Robert still coming to be introduced to us all?’

‘Yes.’ Simon spooned some brown sugar into his mug. ‘They’re staying over in Lostwithiel tonight with an old friend of Robert’s. I think they were at school together. Then they’ll drive over. Should only take half an hour at that time on a Sunday morning.’

‘The handover will be the hardest thing,’ said Penny. ‘But better to keep it short.’

‘You’ll have a full church tomorrow, mind,’ said Piran, smiling. ‘They nosy lot round here will be breaking their necks to check out the new vicar. They’m desperate to see the woman. Audrey Tipton and her wet husband will be front of the queue, you’ll see.’

Penny laughed. ‘You’re so right. And Queenie. I was in the shop the other day and she was desperately mining me for information.’

‘Oh God, she’ll bring out the ancient mothballed fur coat for the great occasion,’ laughed Helen.

‘The fur and perhaps the green velvet hat with the feathers and the net veil that she thinks make her look like the Duchess of Cornwall,’ chuckled Penny fondly.

‘How does she keep going with the post office and all those cigarettes she smokes? I do worry about her. How old do you think she is now?’ Helen asked.

‘She came here from the East End as an evacuee as a young girl,’ said Simon. ‘So she must be …’ he shut his eyes and calculated, ‘… about eighty-five-ish?’

A chill ran through Penny. ‘I hope nothing happens to her while we are away.’

Helen tutted. ‘Nothing is going to happen to her. She’s pickled in nicotine and her mind is as sharp as a razor. She can still add up quicker than a bookie. I promise you, she’s not going anywhere.’

‘Mumma?’ A tired Jenna wandered in, cuddling little Jack like a baby. His paws were limp and his eyes blinking. ‘Can we go now?’

Piran lifted Jack from her. ‘Bleddy dog. Spoilt, he is.’ He ruffled Jack’s ears and kissed his nose.

‘He loves that dog more than he loves me,’ said Helen, shaking her head.

‘Well, I’ve known ’im longer than I’ve known you. We share history.’

‘Bye-bye, Jack,’ said Jenna sleepily. ‘Bye-bye, Uncle Piran. You won’t forget my fisherman’s knife, will you?’

‘Certainly not. Auntie Helen and I will have it here the minute you get back.’

Saying their goodbyes, Simon scooped Jenna up in his arms, and led his beloved little family back to the vicarage.

Later, snuggled in bed with the lights out, Penny had a sense of foreboding. She fidgeted over to Simon, whose warmth comforted her. He reached an arm around her. ‘You OK?’ he asked sleepily.

‘Yes. Just thinking about how different the village might be when we get back.’

‘It’ll be the same as always,’ Simon told her. ‘Nothing changes in Pendruggan. Take it from me.’

That night, Penny had a torrid dream. Their container ship was sunk by a terrible Atlantic storm, taking all their possessions to the seabed. Her father was there and tried desperately to save everything but, after many dives, was finally swallowed into the murky depths. She woke up gasping, but as she lay in her bed next to her sleeping husband, she heard the high-pitched wail of a strong wind coming off the sea and the rattle of heavy rain.

She turned over to be closer to Simon and tried to shake off the bad feeling that still lingered.

‘It’s just an ordinary Cornish storm,’ she told herself. ‘And a simple anxiety dream. Everything will be OK.’

Eventually she did sleep, while outside, the storm raged, shaking Jenna’s cherry tree and running up the beach on Shellsand Bay to wash away the great walls of the sand dunes.

But when Simon woke, first as he usually did, the sky was the cleanest, washed-out blue, without a cloud. The sun was rising and bringing with it the first promise of summer warmth.

In the kitchen as he waited for the kettle to boil, he opened the back door and saw the wind-strewn leaves of Jenna’s cherry tree on the lawn and the slender necks of the daffodils bent to the earth. But today was not a day to grieve over nature. Today he needed all his emotional strength to hand his flock over to their new caretaker, Angela.

2 (#u68b2c4e0-1ab1-559d-9e35-f3749b316f39)

‘Well?’ The suspense was killing Robert. ‘Are we going to Cornwall?’

Angela’s heart was racing, the pulse in her throat throbbing. She lifted her eyes from the letter in her hand and said, in a quivering voice, ‘Yes.’

Robert ran to where she stood in the hall. ‘Woo hoo.’ He lifted her off her feet. ‘Congratulations.’ He squeezed her hard and without letting her go called up the stairs, ‘Faith! Mum got the job! We are going to live by the sea for a whole year!’

‘Great,’ came the muffled reply.

‘Well, come on. Come down and I’ll make a celebratory breakfast. Bacon sandwiches all round!’

‘Dad, it’s Saturday. I want to sleep.’

‘Let her be,’ said Angela fondly.