A Cornish Stranger (24 page)

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Authors: Liz Fenwick

Tags: #General and Literary Fiction

BOOK: A Cornish Stranger
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Gabe swung round even though she knew Jaunty wasn't
here
any more.

‘The coffin is outside.'

‘Thank you. Do you need anything else from me?'

‘No.' He shook his head. ‘You have a beautiful voice.' The man coloured as he said the words and Gabe smiled. The Cornish loved their singing.

‘Thank you.'

‘You take a seat in the front pew when you're ready.' He nodded and backed out of the church.

Gabe turned to Max. ‘I don't need to practise “Amazing Grace”.'

‘Agreed.' He smiled and Gabe, fiddling with the neckline of her dress, walked to the front pew. She was stunned to see the church was full. Most of the faces she knew, including the new owner of the gallery. He was already pressing her about a retrospective of Jaunty's work. If he only knew, he wouldn't be asking, she thought. Hannah was handing out the order of service to everyone and Gabe wondered if she'd had enough printed. On the cover was a photograph of Jaunty in her usual pose, looking into the distance. Always looking for something that was out of reach, and finally Gabe knew what that was. No wonder it had absorbed her so.

 

The level of discreet coughs and whispers grew. Gabe focused on the paper in her hand. Everything was organised. All she had to do was sing twice. She wasn't speaking, only the priest would be saying a few words. The lily in the centre of the main bouquet on the altar calmed her with its scent and simplicity. Jaunty would have approved of the flowers. The lilies came from the florist but many of the other flowers were from local gardens.

The organ began with the opening of ‘Guide me, O Thou Great Jehovah' as they brought the coffin in. Gabe turned and was stunned to feel tears prick the back of her eyes. She thought she had finished with them, but obviously not. Fin was one of the pallbearers and she recognised Mark Triggs and Mike Gear. Tamsin Polcrebar's husband, Anthony, the local builder, and Tristan Trevillion and one of Anthony's sons were also helping. Jaunty certainly didn't require six men to carry her, but Gabe thought she might find it a bit amusing. Mrs Bates, in the pew behind, belted out the words to the second verse in a completely different key to everyone else, so for the final verse Gabe went to full volume and the church dropped to total silence as she held the last note. It wasn't quite the effect she had wanted, but at least it had drowned Mrs Bates out.

Hannah squeezed into the pew to her left while Fin sat next to her on her right. Father Tim began and before she knew it Gabe was walking to the back of the church. All eyes were on her and she tried not to stumble when she saw the size of the crowd. The rear of the church was standing room only. They made space for her as she approached Max.

Everything inside her froze. It wasn't supposed to be like this. This was a small local funeral, not a memorial service for a celebrity, but the door was open and people were standing outside, trying to listen, so it made it feel that way. Max made eye contact. His expression said it all, then he put on his best conductor face as if he knew that something inside her would respond because she couldn't let Jaunty down, couldn't let Maria Lucia, her great-grandmother down. Gabe blocked out the crowd and focused on the beauty of the music, let it take her over. As the last note finished the church was totally silent and Max placed his hand on her arm. Gabe didn't dare look at him because she knew she would crack. Right now it was all too much.

The priest delivered an appropriate homily, mentioning Jaunty's dedication to family and to work. He spoke of her lasting legacy to the art world and blissfully he kept it brief. Gabe dreaded the next bit, but without leaving the pew she began:
Amazing Grace, how great though art . . .

The priest began the final blessing and Fin slipped out of the pew. Gabe felt naked without him beside her. How was she going to walk out of this church alone? Fin, with the ­others, took Jaunty's coffin out of the church and Hannah took Gabe's hand.

‘I have plenty of experience with funerals unfortunately,' Hannah whispered in her ear. ‘My father's and a special friend's.'

The priest announced that there would be a small reception in Manaccan village hall, and Hannah gave her hand a squeeze as they walked down the aisle with the crowd filing out behind them. The beautiful day had disappeared in to a heavy shower and Fin threw his coat over Gabe's shoulders and opened the back seat of the limo and helped her in. He was going to follow in Gabe's car.

As the black car reversed out, a few people chatted in the rain and Gabe noticed the newspaper covering a little girl's head. The headline read: ‘Acclaimed Artist Jaunty Blythe Is A Fraud'.

 

 

 

 

 

Twenty

 

 

 

 

G
abe was going to be sick. How had this happened? Fin. It had to be Fin! She pressed the button and the window came down, then she gulped in air as they drove up the hill to Manaccan. The car slowed in front of the hall but Gabe shook her head. She couldn't go in and face everyone. Tamsin ran down to the car and hopped in.

‘Take us straight to my house, John,' she said to the driver.

Tamsin turned to Gabe and took her hand. ‘I've seen the paper, and there's been a bloke going round the village asking questions, so I'm taking you to ours and then we'll sort it out.'

At Tamsin's house Gabe was bustled into the kitchen and despite the heat from the Aga she found it cold. She pulled Fin's coat tighter around her, then threw it off. The only way the journalists could have known would be through him. He had betrayed her, betrayed Jaunty.

‘Brandy, I think.' Tamsin disappeared and Gabe saw the kitchen table covered with all the papers. It was only in one but it was on the front page. The story followed the lines of ‘privileged woman steals East End girl's glory'.

Gabe sank into a chair. That wasn't what happened! How could Fin have done this? Was he that desperate for money?

‘Now, just heard from Anthony and they're all on their way back here.' Tamsin sat down and pushed a glass towards Gabe. ‘Mrs Bates is in floods of tears. She fears it's all her fault for wanting her Timothy to cover the funeral for the paper.' Tamsin shook her head. ‘Somehow I don't see Tim as being the cause, but I could be wrong.'

Gabe shook her head. ‘I should have done something.'

‘You knew?'

‘Only just.' Gabe took a sip of the brandy. ‘Jaunty wrote a confession of sorts for me.'

‘Ah.'

‘And well, I was still trying to figure out what to do.' A tear slipped down Gabe's cheek. ‘It all spiralled ahead, beginning with the obituaries hitting the papers when I hadn't even called them.'

‘Well, you know how news spreads here. It could have reached them in any number of ways and once they heard it would be easy enough to confirm.' Tamsin made herself a cup of tea. ‘In fact, thinking about it, I saw something on Facebook. Nothing bad, just someone noting how sad they were that she had died.'

Gabe nodded.

‘She was so good, frankly, I don't see what all the fuss is about. There can't be any other news at the moment. It would be jolly convenient if some minister was caught shagging someone. Not to worry, Gabe, we'll get it sorted. Now finish that drink and get some colour back into your cheeks.'

 

Gabe wore a big woolly jumper of Tamsin's and was surrounded by what felt like half the village. Tamsin's son Fred had been sent to check the cabin and make sure that it and the studio were secure. He found a stranger with several cameras loitering on the track to the cabin. He'd asked if he was lost and told him that he'd get some great wildlife shots but not much else.

Everyone moved around and discussed how to handle the crisis. Fin stood on the outskirts. He wasn't speaking, just listening, as she was. People Gabe had known but not known well all her life were closing round her to protect her. She was theirs and so was Jaunty.

‘It's clear we have to get the full and correct story out.' Tristan spoke. ‘I'm afraid it will have to be Gabe presenting it.' He looked at her and Gabe didn't know what to do.

‘I could do it.' Fin stepped forward. ‘I'm an art historian. If I speak then they will listen.'

‘They will still want to hear Gabe's thoughts. Like, did she know and everything.' Tamsin rubbed Gabe's shoulders. Gabe was shaking. How could Fin stand there as if he was innocent? The world would still be in ignorance if he had kept his mouth shut. But he hadn't.

‘Hey, they have linked to a video of Gabe singing!' Anthony looked up from the computer screen and everyone except Gabe and Fin huddled around Anthony, watching. Gabe froze. Without looking at the screen she recognised it. It was the final performance of the competition.

As the last note faded Gabe's glance met Fin's. She knew and he knew.

‘Wow, we knew you could sing, Gabe, but that was fabulous.' Anthony's voice came from the centre of the group.

Gabe grabbed the back of the chair in front of her. She couldn't breathe. The room started disappearing and then . . . nothing.

Air blew across Gabe's face and she heard voices around her, but opening her eyes was a problem. Maybe if she didn't the world would go away. She should have let herself drown the night she rescued Fin. His life jacket would have saved him without her help. This was his fault.

Save a stranger from the sea, and he'll turn your enemy.

‘Gabe!' Hannah's voice called. It sounded as if it came from across the room, but Gabe knew someone was holding her hand, and it wasn't Fin. Her pulse wasn't racing and she knew that her body would respond to his traitor's touch. The noise of the voices all talking at once almost drowned out the quiet singing that Hannah began. She sang the hymn that Gabe had sung the night she saved Fin.

 

Refuge in grief, Star of the sea,

Pray for the mourner, pray for me.

Hannah's voice was so sincere that Gabe opened her eyes.

‘You're with us again.' Hannah smiled.

‘I think Gabe needs to rest.' Tamsin came over and took Gabe's hand. ‘You'll stay here tonight so we can look after you.'

There was no option, Gabe could tell, and before she knew it she was tucked in Tamsin's guest room.

‘Take these sleeping pills. You get a good night's rest and everything will look better in the morning.'

Gabe swallowed them but didn't see how things would improve with her grandmother's deception splashed across the papers.

 

Gabe clawed her way out of a terrible dream. Forcing her eyes open, she didn't know where she was. Weight pressed down on her chest, and gasping for air she tried to scream but no sound came out. Her limbs were heavy and she felt drugged – and that's when she remembered where she was and what had happened. Sleeping tablets.

The sun was high in the sky; she must have slept for more than twelve hours. There was a tap on the door and Tamsin popped her head round it. ‘Hi.' She brought in a tray with tea and toast and Gabe struggled to push up into a sitting position. Nothing was working properly and her mouth was painfully dry.

‘You've been asleep for ever. You must have needed it.'

Gabe nodded, not trusting her voice. Tamsin handed her a mug of tea.

‘Things are much better now, much calmer,' Tamsin said, walking to the door. ‘I'll leave you to drink your tea and eat in peace. I got Fred to bring some of your clothes from the cabin.' Tamsin frowned. ‘Not what you or I would have chosen to go together but they'll have to do. I put them in the bathroom on the towel rail.'

‘Thanks,' Gabe croaked.

‘No problem. Come down when you're ready.'

Gabe sipped her tea, thinking that might mean never leaving the safety of this pretty room.

 

Fin was the first person Gabe saw as she walked into Tamsin's kitchen. She stopped. Didn't these kind people know that he was the cause of the problem?

‘Good afternoon,' Anthony greeted her from where he stood by the window.

‘Yes, you could say I overslept.'

‘Not to worry about it.' Tamsin pulled a cake out of the Aga and the aroma of warm chocolate and almonds filled the air.

‘All's cool here at crisis central.' Fred looked up from the computer on the table. ‘While you were sleeping Fin's handled the press and has so far, by my count, given ten interviews to the media. He's a real pro.'

‘Oh my God.' Gabe clutched the doorframe. She should have been up hours ago. She couldn't believe they'd let Fin speak for her or for Jaunty. She wasn't sure it could get any worse.

‘You look like you've seen a ghost.' Anthony handed her a cup of coffee. ‘Do you need some fresh air?'

Gabe nodded and stumbled out the back door. This wasn't happening to her. If she had put her foot down and sent Fin on his way immediately none of this would have happened. Why hadn't she questioned his reasons for being here? Alarm bells should have rung loud and clear when he said he was an art historian. She was such a fool. She hadn't followed her instincts until they had been blinded by his charm, and by then her hormones had kicked into overdrive. She had slept with him, not once, but countless times. She flushed and walked further into the garden towards a summerhouse where she stood and let the tears run down her cheeks. She would allow herself these few moments of self-pity and then she had to find Jaunty's determination and take control of the situation. She blew her nose.

‘Gabe.' Fin was beside her.

‘You!' She stepped away.

‘I know you hate me, but believe me, I'm on your side.'

‘You're joking, right?'

‘No.' He walked closer and Gabe couldn't back away any further.

‘Look, I know you won't believe me but I wanted to make sure you, and only you, saw this.' He handed her a folded sheet of paper.

‘What's this? Your apology for ruining Jaunty's reputation.' He didn't say anything and Gabe opened it. Jaunty's handwriting looked so shaky.

My dearest girl. As always I have left the hardest bit to the very last. This is the part that has tormented me the most. Even now, having made my confession, this is the one thing I cannot forgive myself for. That in itself is a sin. Pride. I always had far too much of that.

But I delay.

On the night that Alex and I fled France I was to meet Dietrich. I had told Alex this but he said there was no time and I was buoyant as we left the priest. I was finally married to my love. We went through the wood to the meeting point. Alex told me to wait while he went and sent the signals. I stood shivering by a tree, planning for our future.

Dietrich must have been worried when I hadn't turned up at our appointed time because he came looking for me and found me alone. His face was full of relief and love. But, of course, within moments, he wanted to know why I was hiding in the woods near a dirt track.

We argued and eventually the truth came out of me. He begged me not to go and I refused. I knew, above all, he mustn't see Alex. Alex couldn't be compromised. I began to run away from the road and Dietrich followed, declaring his love. He wouldn't listen and I heard Alex's signal in the distance. Then I saw Alex's light. He was searching for me. He must have heard the arguing.

I pulled out the small pistol Alex had given me earlier and I threatened Dietrich, but he wouldn't listen. He wouldn't leave. Alex came up to us and it was too late. Dietrich should have gone when I asked. It all would have worked out. Alex stood there. He was compromised, the whole operation was. I had to choose, Alex and my country or Dietrich my friend and lover.

I shot Dietrich as he was saying, yet again, that he loved me more than life. He fell to the ground. Alex took my hand, then I ran, looking back only once. Dietrich hadn't moved. I'd killed him.

Gabe's hand shook. Jaunty's writing was almost illegible and the
m
on the end slid off the page. ‘Where did you find this?'

‘When I checked the cabin I found a window open in Jaunty's room. The wind had caused an unholy mess and as I picked up the last papers I saw this one poking out from under the side of the bed.'

‘Have you read it?'

He nodded.

‘Have you told anyone?' Gabe looked at him, hating that part of her wanted to be in his arms.

‘No, nor would I.'

‘I'm afraid I find that hard to believe.' Gabe took a deep breath.

‘Gabe!' Tamsin called from the kitchen.

‘Gabe, wait.' The look in Fin's eyes pleaded with her.

She turned away from him. Gabe folded the letter and put it in to her pocket. ‘Coming.' She didn't know what to think or feel at this moment, but she knew the last thing she wanted to do was talk to Fin. These good people had no idea what they had done by relying on him. Unfortunately Gabe knew all too well.

 

The newspapers were spread out over the table. Being the weekend all of them had found space to run the story in more detail. They had unearthed photos of Jaunty as a child with her parents and Gabe was thrilled to see them, but at the same time she was horrified that the world was viewing them at the same time as she did. Jaunty wouldn't have wanted this.

Among the pictures were statements saying that Gabriella, Jeanette's granddaughter, was unable to comment at this time, that this was all news to her. She hadn't known about her grandmother's other life, that she hadn't withheld anything, but was in the process of investigating the story. It mentioned that she was in mourning and wished her privacy to be respected. But of course it wasn't. The papers had left no stone unturned from Gabe's past and it appeared that many of her old colleagues were happy to chime in, probably for the namecheck that they would receive.

She put her head in her hands. How was she going to fix this? Was there even a way she could? Every one of the articles had taken against Jaunty. None of them looked at what her situation had been or what she had done in the war. Gabe wondered if her service had ever been noted or would it be under Jean's name? But of course it hadn't been Jean. She had been on the
Lancastria
.

There were inset articles giving the terrible statistics and background on the tragedy of the ship, even a picture of the ship's manifest listing Jeanette Penrose. It made for depressing reading. One of the papers harped on about her privileged upbringing and showed photos of Polruan House and the Lake Garda villa where they had summered. It was all wrong.

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