Chapter Ten #2
Sheila drew on her thick woollen gloves, suddenly glad of the blanket and hamper on the seat behind her.
They reached Penzance a little after lunchtime, due to Bernie taking the corners at a snail’s pace, worried about ice on the roads and the possibility of his prized car ending up in a ditch.
But they suffered no mishaps, and Sheila felt her spirits lighten as the pretty seaside town came into view below them.
‘Feels like we’re running away together,’ she said to Bernie with a chuckle.
He flashed her a smile. ‘Would you like that? Because we could keep driving past Penzance and not stop until we find a cosy little wayside inn …’
‘Bernie, don’t you dare even suggest such a thing!’ But she found herself grinning. ‘Gawd, I can just imagine Violet’s face if we was to elope. I’d never live it down.’
‘You’re not afraid of your daughter’s opinion, surely?’
‘Not afraid so much as wary of causing a row. Violet used to know how to have fun with the rest of us. But since she got married she’s been a bit of a dry stick.
’ She paused, remembering that awkward moment in the kitchen before she’d left.
‘Her and Joe are having problems, I think. That’s probably why she’s always in a bad mood. ’
‘I’ve noticed that myself,’ he agreed, his smile fading. ‘Marriage can be hard going sometimes.’
‘Funny you’re hankering after a second helping, then.’
‘Ah, but with you, it would be all smooth sailing.’
‘Flatterer,’ she accused him, but chuckled again. ‘Where are you planning to stay while I’m at Lily and Tristan’s?’
‘With my cousin Percy. I haven’t seen him in a while, so we’ll have plenty of catching up to do. And I have a number of old friends I’d like to visit too, if there’s time.’ He slowed as they descended towards the town. ‘Which way?’
Sheila consulted the map that Lily had sent with her last letter. She’d been to Tristan’s sheep farm before, but couldn’t quite remember the way. ‘Looks like you need to turn left up ahead.’
‘How soon?’
‘Gawd, I don’t know. There’s a funny sort of squiggle before the turning.’ She leant over, holding up Lily’s map so he could see it. ‘I can’t make head nor tail of this. Is that a picture of a tree, do you think?’
‘I think I’ll be able to see where I’m going a damn sight easier if you stop waving that in my face,’ he said amiably.
‘Sorry.’ Sheila withdrew the map, abashed. Then flung out an arm, pointing urgently. ‘There, there! A bloomin’ great oak tree on the corner. Turn left there.’
Thankfully, there was nobody behind them. Bernie slammed on the brakes and negotiated the tight left-hand turn beside the oak tree with a muttered, ‘Phew.’
From there, it wasn’t too hard to navigate their way to the farm that Tristan and his married sister Demelza owned between them. The two couples lived there together with their children, an arrangement that Sheila found odd, though in these tough times she could see why it might be necessary.
The farmhouse was reached by a long, bumpy drive, and when they finally arrived, shaken up by a few dozen potholes despite Bernie’s careful driving, they found Lily and Tristan, and Demelza and her husband Robert, standing in the front yard, waiting for them.
Her great-grandson Morris was running about in the snow in a thick jacket and a fetching pair of little boots, while Demelza cradled her own infant, who was thickly swaddled in a blanket.
‘You made it safely, Gran,’ Lily exclaimed happily, embracing her and then shaking Bernie’s hand. She looked strong and vital, her face glowing, her fair hair tucked under a woolly hat. ‘Thank you so much for driving my grandmother here. It was very kind of you, Mr Bailey.’
‘My pleasure,’ he replied, also shaking Tristan’s hand. ‘How are you both? Very pleased to see you again.’
While they also shook hands with Demelza and Robert, Lily called to intrepid young Morris to stop climbing a snow-covered wall five times his height, and then asked Bernie, ‘Will you come in for some lunch, Mr Bailey, or must you dash straight off?’
Bernie glanced hesitantly at Sheila.
‘Oh well, you’d better come in for lunch, since Lily’s offering,’ she said brusquely, aware of her granddaughter and grandson-in-law studying them with interest. No doubt they’d read in her letter that Bernie would be driving her to Penzance and had put two and two together and made sixty-four.
‘Can’t have you turning up hungry on your cousin’s doorstep,’ she added deliberately, making sure they knew he’d come to Penzance on an errand of his own, not just as her chauffeur.
It was so lovely to see her granddaughter and dear great-grandson again.
Sheila didn’t know when she had felt so happy.
They sat down to lunch in the large farmhouse kitchen, crowded around the table.
She and Bernie had munched on Violet’s sandwiches and pork pie during their long drive, but she did love a proper sit-down lunch, so didn’t refuse the lavish spread Lily had laid on to welcome her.
‘Your father has gone to stay with Alice in London,’ she told Lily, raising her voice above the hubbub at the lunch table. ‘But I expect you already know that, since you and Alice have always been thick as thieves.’
Lily smiled, helping Morris with his lunch.
‘Yes, she wrote to tell me. But Dad had already sent a letter explaining his plans. He was worried I might be offended he hadn’t paid us a visit before leaving.
But he stayed with us last year. Besides, he’s working in London, so of course he’d be staying with Alice. ’
‘Did he happen to tell you where he’s working?’ Sheila asked curiously. ‘Ernest is as closed as an oyster, I couldn’t get a word out of him on the subject. But I daresay it’s all hush-hush, even though the war’s over.’
Lily grinned. ‘No, Dad didn’t tell me what he was doing in London. But Alice let slip in her letter that they’re working together in the same building. And we all know she’s working with British Intelligence.’
‘It makes me so proud to think of them two working hard to keep this country safe,’ Sheila exclaimed. ‘How clever they both are.’ She gave Tristan a wink, who’d been listening intently to their conversation. ‘Alice gets it from me, of course.’
Tristan laughed, and then stopped, seeing her raised brows.
‘Of course, Gran,’ Lily said tactfully. ‘Pass the butter, Tris.’
After lunch, they chatted over a nice cup of tea for an hour, and then Bernie got up. ‘I must get off, I’m afraid,’ he said in his deep voice. ‘Thank you very much for your hospitality, Mrs Minear. You have a lovely home,’ he added, including Tristan, Demelza and Robert in his smile.
‘You’re very welcome, Mr Bailey,’ Lily told him, getting up to see him out. ‘But I hope you’ll come back soon. Gran says you’re staying in the area, so you must come for dinner one evening.’
‘I hope to be a regular visitor while your grandmother is here, if that’s all right with you.’
On the doorstep, Bernie turned to Sheila, who had followed him out.
‘Perhaps I could call in a day or so, and take you for a walk along the seafront. How about it?’
‘I’d like that,’ Sheila agreed shyly.
‘Until later, then.’ He bent his head to kiss her on the lips, and she froze in shock. He’d never kissed her in front of anyone else before. ‘Goodbye.’
When he’d driven away, Lily turned to her, her eyes twinkling with humour, and Sheila wished to goodness that she wasn’t blushing so fiercely.
But the truth was, she was mightily embarrassed, and a little giddy too.
Because she’d enjoyed that unexpected kiss.
Though she hadn’t enjoyed her granddaughter witnessing it.
She’d be having words with Bernie when next they met, that was for sure.
‘You’ve gone pink, Gran,’ Lily said, teasing her.
‘Oh, get over.’ Still hot-cheeked, but giggling now, Sheila stomped back to the kitchen. ‘Blimey, it was just a kiss.’
But she knew that had been more than ‘just a kiss’. It had been a public declaration of intent on Bernie’s part. And she ought to have been annoyed. Instead, she was excited, and wondering what else he might do while they were on their ‘holidays’ in Penzance.
While the cat’s away, the mice will play …
But what might the cat get up to when her bloomin’ daughter wasn’t there to wag a disapproving finger?