4. Pearl Draper
4
PEARL DRAPER
P earl Draper stretched her arms above her head and yawned. She had slept well and felt refreshed, but there was always the temptation to stay warm and cosy in bed and grab a few more winks.
She pushed the duvet back, slid her legs over the edge of the bed, and put her feet in her moccasin style slippers. Reaching for her fluffy red dressing gown, she pulled it over her arms, did up the belt then went to the window. She opened the blinds and gazed out at the beautiful view before her. At just after dawn, the first rays of golden sun warmed the horizon over the sea creating a peachy hue that would soon spread and paint the sky. The houses and cottages of the village seemed to shimmer with the soft glow and it reflected in the windows of the boats that bobbed in the harbour. For the majority of her adult life, since moving in as a new bride of twenty-two, the small, whitewashed cottage in the Cornish village of Porthpenny had been her home. Pearl sent out her daily silent thank you to the universe that she lived in such an incredible place. At seventy-five, she had seen and done a lot, but she never forgot to be grateful for what she had. She knew all too well that life could change in an instant and so she strove to value every single moment and to make the most of every single day.
Downstairs, Pearl padded into her cosy lounge where she opened the curtains before making her way to the kitchen. She filled the kettle and set it on the boiling plate of the Aga. While the water was heating, Pearl opened the back door and gazed out at her small walled garden. The air was icy and refreshing, and she breathed it in, savouring the cold. It was going to be a beautiful day and a flicker of excitement tingled through her at the signs that spring was on the way. The older she got, the more she became convinced that the years passed faster. Sometimes, that sent a shiver of dread through her but she also knew it was important to accept that this was how life worked. No one could live forever, no one could last forever, and that was why she made the most of every day. Along the way, she had lost friends and loved ones, as well as beloved pets. But that was life, and she knew that as much as she might sometimes wish she could stop time and keep everyone she loved around, it was impossible.
She did what she could to take care of herself — she ate well, exercised, drank plenty of water, and she tried to laugh a lot. Laughter was the very best medicine, and she had always admired those who were able to see the humour in situations. A friend of hers had recently been to see the GP for a routine medical. It had included the usual blood pressure test, weight and height measurements, and also blood tests because her friend had been feeling rather tired of late. Pearl’s friend had told the GP she suspected she was tired because she was an octogenarian and she was, perhaps, physically slowing down. The GP had asked Pearl’s friend a variety of questions, including how many units of alcohol she drank a week. Apparently, when she told the GP all about the range of gins she’d tried recently, he’d asked if she thought she had a problem with alcohol. Pearl’s friend replied, ‘No I don’t have a problem with alcohol at all! In fact, I like it all!’ This had led to Pearl and her friend laughing heartily, and when Pearl’s friend had offered her a gin and tonic, Pearl had accepted with enthusiasm. And so, they had enjoyed a drink, raised their glasses to living for today and to absent friends, and then they had sat on the woman’s decking and watched the sun set over the sea.
Pearl had always been an early riser, firstly as a child, when she had worked on her parents’ Cornish dairy farm, and then when she had married and had a young baby. When her daughter, August Draper, had started at the local primary school, Pearl had got a job there and been a teaching assistant for many years. After retiring from her job as a teaching assistant, she had invested her lump sum and some of the money her husband had left her, into the purchase of a small building surrounded by beautiful gardens at the edge of the village. Pearl had always harboured a dream of owning her own café, and the building had seemed the perfect place to renovate and transform. Along with help from some generous locals, she had created a beautiful haven at the centre of the stunning gardens, and that building had become The Garden Café, referred to by tourists as the Cornish Garden Café.
And so, Pearl continued to rise early in order to get to the garden café that was a short walk from her cottage. She didn’t mind at all, not even on the cold winter mornings when it was still dark as she walked to work. She especially didn’t mind heading out to work on beautiful spring mornings when nature was awakening after its winter sleep, and as for the summer mornings, it was an absolute pleasure to be up and about early before the heat of the day set in.
The kettle began to whistle, so Pearl poured water on a mint tea bag and let it soak while she set about making some breakfast. Once she had eaten, she went upstairs to shower and dress, thinking about what the day ahead would bring, and anticipating the conversations she would have with the local people she had come to know so well. Living in the village where she had been all her adult life, she knew just about everyone. She liked the security and the familiarity of living where she did and knew that she would never want to be anywhere else. Of course she missed her husband, who had passed away twenty years ago, her daughter August, who now lived in Scotland at the side of a loch with her Scottish husband, and her granddaughter, Ellie, who lived in London. But that was life. Pearl believed everyone should be able to go their own way and to live their life the way they chose, as long as they weren’t hurting anyone else.
Dressed and ready, she descended the stairs again, pulled on her cosy sheepskin boots and the down filled puffer jacket she had bought in the village charity shop. It was time to get to the garden café, to feed the chickens she kept there for their eggs and to let them out into their run, to feed the wild birds that frequented the beautiful gardens, and then to feed the villagers who would visit the café that day.
Pearl loved her life and felt fortunate to be living it her way.
Every day was a gift indeed.