Читать книгу The Sweethearts Collection - Pam Jenoff - Страница 34

Chapter 24

Raindrops drumming on the roof of the van woke Colenso. Peering through the window, all she could see was grey, swirling mist. Mara was still sleeping, her blanket rising and falling along with her gentle snoring. Dressing quickly, Colenso unbolted the little stable door and slipped outside. Ears whickered softly and, shivering in the cold wet of the morning, Colenso fondled his soft muzzle and gave him some oats. Then after a quick rinse in the stream, she filled the kettle and hurried back inside.

After feeding kindling into the stove, she set the pan to boil and began making breakfast. How she’d grown to love this cosy little kitchen which, although basic, had everything necessary to prepare and cook their meals. Humming softly, she made their pancakes and was just tipping them out onto their plates when noises from outside told her the kumpania was making ready to strike camp.

‘Come on, lazy bones,’ she joked, leaning over and shaking the woman gently. ‘The others are preparing to leave and you don’t want to be left behind now, do you? I’ve made us tea and bokoli, although there’s no bacon or cheese so I’ve flavoured it with herbs.’

‘Taking over my kitchen now,’ the woman grumbled, climbing out of bed and peering through the curtain. ‘Mizzly as misery out there, but you’re right, the others are almost ready to leave,’ she added, quickly pulling on her skirt and winding the red scarf around her hair.

‘Don’t worry, Mara, I’ve seen to Ears so we only have to hitch up,’ she soothed. ‘I’ll steer the van if you like.’

‘And we all know what happened last time you did that,’ Mara snorted, taking a bite of her breakfast. ‘Not bad, though a bit more seasoning would have helped.’ Seeing the woman was out of sorts, Colenso turned her attention to her own food.

By the time they were ready to leave, the rain had stopped and the other vans were already trundling off into the distance.

‘Good job Ears knows the way,’ Mara said when Colenso took the reins.

As they wandered along, the mist slowly began to lift, and by the time they reached Marazion the sky was bright blue. Colenso stared at the white-tipped waves sparkling to the left of them then peered at the island that rose prominently out of the rocky bay.

‘Oh, that is so beautiful,’ she sighed, breathing in the sea air. ‘I suppose that mount was named for St Michael.’

‘Doesn’t take a genius to work that one out,’ Mara retorted.

‘Just interested,’ Colenso replied, deciding to humour her. It worked, for the woman turned and smiled.

‘Then we shall continue with your education. The Archangel St Michael is said to have appeared on the west side of the island and warded fishermen from the danger of the rocks. Ever since, pilgrims, monks or people of any faith really, have visited to pray and give praise.’

‘It looks so peaceful. I can’t wait to visit for Litha,’ Colenso replied.

‘I agree there is something mystical about the island – all this area, in fact,’ she said gesturing around.

‘This is glorious,’ Colenso murmured as they joined the kumpania on a field overlooking the wide expanse of water. Out in the bay, fishing boats were hauling in their seine nets, the inevitable seagulls swooping low. ‘It’s just like being back home.’

‘Miss it, do you?’ Mara asked.

‘Sometimes,’ she nodded. ‘Especially Kitto. Although I still couldn’t face seeing Father and Mamm.’

‘Well, that’s hardly surprising,’ Mara exclaimed. ‘I think spending the summer here will do us both the world of good. Rest, sea air and a bit of dukkering to keep the wolf away,’ she sighed contentedly.

‘Are we really staying that long?’ Colenso asked, excitement rising. Mara nodded.

‘We don’t usually, but Jago suggested we try it. He reckons the railway brings lots of day-trippers and holidaymakers here.’ She pointed ahead to the steam of a train chugging out of the station, little puffs of white clouds rising into the blue sky above. ‘And they’re people with money to spend.’

‘That sounds like Jago,’ Colenso laughed. ‘So what’s that big yard for?’

‘To store and transport the perishables from surrounding farms and harbours. Talking of which, we’d better start unloading.’

‘I’ll do that,’ Colenso said as Mara struggled to free the canvas and poles from their racks beneath the van.

‘Blooming rains made them heavy as Hades,’ she muttered. Colenso frowned down at the equipment that was bone dry, then up at Mara. Despite having ridden all the way here, she was looking fatigued.

‘Want some help, ladies?’ Jago said as he pulled up in his van. Relief flooded through her, for she could see Mara was struggling.

‘Always managed before,’ Mara replied.

‘Come on, Mara, let Jago do his manly bit,’ Colenso quipped, shooting him a grateful look.

‘I’m parched. Don’t suppose you’ve got the wherewithal for a cuppa?’ he asked.

‘Course I have,’ Mara snorted, climbing back into the van.

‘Come on, I know where she likes to do her dukkering,’ Jago said, hoisting up the little tent and setting off across the field towards the water. ‘Swears blind that Mount over there transfers some of its spirituality to her,’ he added. Colenso stared at the island rising like a magical castle out of the sea, and nodded. She couldn’t wait for midsummer to explore it.

The days flew by in a frenzy. With Mara still frail, Colenso had taken over the chores. In the mornings, when the tide was right, she would forage the shore for its rich pickings of sea beet, kale or the spear-leaved orache for their evening meal. She’d then return to the van to make up the cones before working on the Panam in the afternoons.

As Jago had predicted, the day-trippers and holidaymakers arrived with money to spend, and eager children swarmed around the stall, clamouring for sweets before making their way onto the beach, brightly coloured cones clutched in their hands.

Before Colenso knew it, the evening before Litha – or the summer solstice, as Mara insisted on calling it – had arrived.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Jago asked as Colenso scooped up her basket and made her way out of the stall.

‘I told you, Mara and I are going over to the Mount for the summer solstice.’

‘But there are still some people milling around and they might want to buy sweets,’ he frowned.

‘Then you’ll have to serve them yourself, Jago. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon as usual,’ she said, trying not to laugh at his indignant look. Having been rushed off her feet all afternoon, he wasn’t going to make her feel guilty for leaving a couple of hours earlier than usual. ‘I’ll dock it from your wages.’

‘What wages?’ she asked.

Excitement bubbled up inside her as she hurried over to Mara’s tent. She was pleased to see the woman was in fine spirits as they made their way down to the beach. For the past week or so she’d been withdrawn and preoccupied, spending her mornings looking out over the island or chatting earnestly with Sarah before taking herself off to her little tent. After supper she went straight to bed. Mara hadn’t once teased Colenso about her choice of sea plants for their meal, and she missed their bantering.

‘We’ll walk over the causeway to St Michael’s Mount and climb up the pilgrim’s path to the castle. It’s the best place to watch the sun rise,’ Mara told Colenso as, shedding their boots, they stepped onto the cool sand. With the water lapping over their feet, they made their way towards the island.

Despite her earlier excitement, when she saw the outline of The Lizard in the distance, her spirits plummeted. She’d visited the post office earlier that morning and there was still no letter from Kitto. Despite Mara’s assurance, she couldn’t help wondering if he’d succumbed to the schoolmistress’s charms after all. But she couldn’t stay gloomy, for they’d reached their destination.

‘Well, here we are,’ Mara said, sinking down onto a rock and slipping into her boots. ‘I think we’ll take a little rest, it’s a steep climb to the top,’ she added as Colenso bent and tied her laces.

‘I’ve brought us some of Jago’s confections,’ she grinned, extracting a cone of bullseyes from the basket and holding it out to the woman. They sat sucking the striped, lemon-flavoured sweets while watching the activity going on in the harbour. Colenso was sure she’d never seen so many boats.

‘Could bloomin’ break your teeth on these things,’ Mara moaned, taking the sweet from her mouth and throwing it into the water. ‘Come on, let’s get moving.’

‘Goodness, they’ve got cows here,’ Colenso exclaimed, staring at the small black animals in amazement.

‘How else will they get milk and butter?’ Mara snorted as they joined the throng of people wending their way up the steep path. The views from the top were breathtaking, a carpet of green meeting the azure of the sea. Although Mara looked tired, she was adamant they secure their spot on the eastern side ready to see the sun rise.

The sky was just darkening to grey by the time they settled on a rocky crest along with all the others who had come to keep vigil together for the rising sun. Colenso pulled a blanket from the basket and gently covered the woman.

‘If things had been different, I’d have liked a daughter just like you,’ Mara murmured. Colenso turned to the woman in surprise, but she’d already closed her eyes and was snoring gently.

Colenso sat in the gathering shadows, watching pale lights flickering on the mainland, listening to the lowing of the cattle and the gentle lapping of the waves, and thinking of all that had happened over the past months. She could hardly believe that only a short time ago she’d had her life all mapped out and was planning her handfasting ceremony. She wondered what Kitto was doing on this special night, and then, when the image of him with the fair-haired Mary Anne surfaced, wished she hadn’t. Her eyelids grew heavy and she must have slept, for the next thing she knew Mara was prodding her side.

‘Look,’ she whispered. There was a collective gasp around them as a trace of light peeked above the hills. They watched in silence as it grew bigger, rays of red and gold spreading wider across the sky. ‘Sol Invictus,’ Mara whispered, rising to her feet. ‘Let us draw strength and energy from the triumphant sun and concentrate on our outgoing energies.’ Colenso stared at Mara in surprise, for it could have been Mammwynn speaking and, not for the first time, she thought what friends they might have been had they met. ‘Attune to the energies of the waters, the origin of life,’ Mara murmured, stretching her arms out wide to the sea and closing her eyes.

‘Now you must discover the magic of the rock,’ Mara said, her eyes shining as she turned to Colenso. ‘Come on,’ she said, leading the way to an old church. ‘This is where the highest point of the bedrock is seen. It’s a mystical place but to fully benefit you need to touch that stone. Go on,’ she urged. ‘Now close your eyes and make a romantic wish.’

‘Really,’ Colenso protested.

‘Go on. It has to be romantic, mind.’ Seeing the woman wouldn’t be satisfied until she did, Colenso closed her eyes and wished.

‘You don’t really believe in that myth, do you?’ she asked as they made their way carefully down the path.

‘If a romantic wish is made before marriage, it will be granted,’ Mara insisted.

✳

Colenso remembered the woman’s words each time she visited the post office. But by the end of the summer, when the had sun lost its heat and the leaves on the trees had turned from green to gold, she still hadn’t heard from Kitto and gave it up for the myth she’d suspected. As for the reason Kitto hadn’t responded, well, it didn’t take a genius to work that out.

‘The tourists have gone home and it’s time we moved on,’ Mara said, returning from her discussion with the kumpania.

‘Are you sure?’ Colenso asked, noting the woman’s pallor. Not travelling over the summer had done her good but she was still frailer than she’d been when Colenso had first known her. ‘Wouldn’t you rather stay here?’ The woman shook her head.

‘No, we always visit the fair at St Just for Samhain.’ Samhain! Colenso’s heart flipped, but Mara was continuing. ‘The festival’s important, marking the end of the year and …’ her voice faltered, her eyes taking on that faraway look that had become more prevalent of late.

‘Mammwynn said it was also the beginning,’ she ventured.

‘And she was right,’ Mara sighed. Then her voice became brisk again. ‘We’ll be meeting up with Big Al and everyone. Jago’s gone for more stock and says he’ll join us there. Did he pay you before he left?’

‘No, he didn’t,’ Colenso frowned. He hadn’t paid her since Truro and she was down to her last few coppers. Hoping to tempt Mara’s appetite, she’d been buying potatoes and fish, although it was indicative of the woman’s increasing frailty that she hadn’t noticed. Now the weather was getting colder and she needed to buy a shawl. She’d tackle him as soon as she met up with him in St Just.

As they made their way out of Marazion, Colenso looked out over the sea. What a lovely summer it had been. She’d met so many people, explored the shore, visited the Mount. All too soon, they were turning away from the place she’d come to love and were making their way slowly up the hill. It wasn’t long before Mara began to tire and Colenso insisted she rest in the van. Unusually the woman didn’t protest, and even when they turned along a lane that was flat and ran parallel to the coast, she remained inside.

As they passed through the village of Heamoor and onto the road to St Just, Colenso stared around at the changing countryside. Here the land was mainly cultivated, with a scattering of tumbledown houses which, despite their sad state, appeared to be lived in.

Further on, the working tin mines with their leats and reservoir reminded Colenso of the works at Poltesco. Her thoughts turned to Kitto but she pushed them firmly away. He’d had all summer to write and hadn’t. She felt as abandoned as the old mines up on the moor.

‘Right, jump up, we’re turning off here,’ Mara said, jolting Colenso out of her reverie as she emerged from the van.

‘But the others are continuing this way,’ she protested, gesturing to the vans ahead.

‘Well, we’re not.’

Hearing the firmness in the woman’s voice, Colenso knew better than to argue and climbed onto the seat beside her. Although she looked refreshed from her rest, Mara seemed thoughtful as they plodded higher up a narrow lane with bright-green boggy moorland spreading out on either side. Finally, they came to a tiny chapel and Mara pulled on the reins.

‘Stay here,’ she ordered as she clambered down.

‘But …’ Colenso began.

‘A few moments privacy, that’s all I ask,’ the woman interrupted, and there was something in her expression that forbade further argument.

Colenso watched as Mara slowly climbed down and made her way inside the granite building. It was a few minutes before she emerged, then instead of coming back to the van, she seemed to disappear behind it. Colenso was about to jump down to check she was all right when the woman popped up again. To her astonishment when she climbed back up beside her, the woman’s face and hands were soaking wet.

‘Blessed by the holy water and left a cloutie on the tree,’ she grinned, holding up her ripped scarf. ‘Probably too late, but it made me feel better. The veil is lifting.’ Although Colenso looked askance, Mara ignored her, calling instead for Ears to walk on.

They eventually rejoined the road and, after travelling a short distance, saw the tall granite tower of a church rising above the rooftops of St Just. After passing through the triangular market square they turned into the Plen an Gwarry where, to Colenso’s relief, she saw the kumpania was already camped with other vans and wagons alongside them. Mara had been strangely jubilant after her visit to the chapel, and Colenso wanted to discuss her peculiar behaviour with Sarah, who she hoped would understand these things.

But she didn’t get the opportunity, for Mara was strangely insistent that Colenso sit with her after she’d retired to bed.

‘Hold my hand,’ she whispered.

‘Are you all right, Mara?’ Colenso asked, worried she’d overdone things.

‘Never better,’ she replied. ‘Thank you for today and for your company.’ Colenso turned to her in surprise, for the woman was not given to sentiment, but Mara had already closed her eyes, a smile of contentment on her face.

Pulling the cover over her, Colenso felt a rush of tenderness for her friend and was glad she’d conceded to her wishes to visit the chapel. Knowing Mara, after a night’s rest she’d be rushing around getting things ready for her dukkering, Colenso thought, climbing into her own bed.

✳

When Colenso woke in the early hours of the morning, everything felt unusually still. She glanced over and saw Mara lying in the same position, the smile still on her lips.

It was then she realized the woman wasn’t merely sleeping.

‘Oh Mara,’ she wailed.