CHAPTER 2
Cornwall
Dotty Penrose beamed out at the sea of familiar faces from her ‘throne’, as she’d dubbed the chair of honour at the far end of the conservatory.
The royal blue of her dress matched her eyes, which at that moment were sparkling with excitement.
Beside her, Annabel squeezed her hand and felt a lump form in her throat.
She was so proud of her granny and it was a joy to see so many friends and neighbours come and pay tribute to her on her special day.
Dotty had been delighted to see everyone, but confided in her granddaughter that she didn’t know what all the fuss was about, ‘Honestly, all these people making all this effort for this old biddy!’
Dotty was something of a local treasure in the Cornish village of Wincastle, where she had lived for over seventy years.
She knew everybody and everybody knew her.
To the locals, she was a second granny and she was never short of a friend to take her for a trip out, for a coffee or a meal.
Annabel often teased that her social life was busier than her own, but was relieved that she was still able to keep busy and enjoy company.
So many people became so isolated in old age, but Dotty seemed determined to keep going and stay interested in the world around her.
She had been blessed with remarkably good health, she admitted, never having broken a bone or needed a trip to hospital.
Hearing her contemporaries discuss their medication and various ailments was always a tedious experience for her, not to mention a conversation in which she could not join.
For at the ripe old age of one hundred, Dotty was, amazingly, medication free.
She still managed to live independently in her beloved farmhouse, even managing the stairs to her bedroom and pooh-poohing Noel’s suggestion of setting up a downstairs bedroom.
He had briefly floated the idea of sheltered housing a couple of years ago, but such was the dressing-down from his mother that he never dared mention it again.
However, they had reached a compromise, with Noel arranging for a ‘cleaner’ to pop in every day, under the guise of doing the tedious jobs, such as vacuuming and doing the laundry and washing up.
But really, she was there to keep an eye on things for Noel, who felt horribly torn between his golfing retirement in the sun and his dear old ma back home.
Dotty had resented the daily intrusion at first, but had eventually warmed to Lizzie, the cheerful retired nurse who was in her late fifties.
Noel felt relief the first time Dotty mentioned having had a cup of coffee with Lizzie after she’d finished her chores.
Every day, come rain or shine, Dotty walked the half mile to the village post office to buy her newspaper and have a chat with Pam, the postmistress.
She liked to keep up to date with the news and do the daily crossword, but, more importantly, the routine and the company kept her going.
‘The day I stop moving is the day this old body will pack up!’ she had told Annabel.
Such was Dotty’s popularity that today it was standing room only in the conservatory.
Several guests had spilled out onto the patio beyond, where trestle tables had been set up for the buffet lunch later.
Annabel looked out and smiled. She never tired of the view from the house and today it was nothing short of spectacular.
There wasn’t a cloud in the azure sky, and fluffy white lambs skipped and jumped in the fields that led down to the sea, sparkling in the distance. It was a perfect Cornish spring day.
The Lord Lieutenant of Cornwall, Colonel Edward Tremayne, arrived at 12 p.m. on the dot.
He was a handsome man in his late sixties, with silver-grey hair and piercing blue eyes.
Dressed in his full military regalia and with a charming greeting for everyone, he set a few elderly pulses racing.
‘I suppose this is the OAP’s equivalent of ordering a stripper for a twenty-first!
’ William whispered to Annabel as the colonel stood up to address the audience, causing her to snort and earn a reproachful look from their mother.
Congratulations were given and snippets of Dotty’s life story (provided to him by Noel, via email) were shared, then it was the moment they had all been waiting for: the birthday card from the Queen.
It had arrived in the mail a couple of days earlier and Dotty had been under strict instructions not to open it, but to wait until the official presentation.
A hush fell as Colonel Tremayne handed the white envelope to Dotty with due pomp and ceremony and said, ‘Mrs Dotty Penrose, it is my very great honour to be here with you and your loved ones today. I have been instructed by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, to wish you a very happy birthday!’ There was a round of applause and Annabel looked up to see a wall of cameras and mobile phones; everyone wanted to capture the special moment.
Annabel had never seen her grandmother lost for words before, but receiving personal correspondence from Her Majesty left her in a kind of awed silence.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as her nearest and dearest watched her gaze at the photograph on the front of the card.
Annabel heard her whisper, ‘Well I never!’
Then she opened it and read the message aloud:
I am so pleased to know that you are celebrating your one hundredth birthday on 9th March, 2019. I send my congratulations and best wishes to you on such a special occasion. Elizabeth R.
‘Well, thank you very much, Your Majesty; it was very good of you to remember!’ she quipped, earning a burst of laughter and another round of applause as she held the card up for everyone to see.
‘Speech!’ came a voice from the back of the room, which Annabel recognised to be that of Neil Polkerris, the farmer who leased the Penrose farmland. Everyone laughed again and Dotty let herself be talked into it.
‘I’m not one for speeches, but I would just like to say a few words,’ she began and then paused as she looked around the room. Sitting next to her, Annabel squeezed her hand encouragingly.
‘I’d just like to say thank you so much to you all for coming today, it really does mean an awful lot to me.
I’m a very fortunate old woman! Lots of you have asked me the secret to reaching this ripe old age.
I’m not sure what the answer is, maybe it’s the little glass of sherry I have every evening – purely for medicinal reasons, you understand!
’ More laughter. Annabel felt a surge of pride as she watched her grandmother captivate her audience.
‘But in all seriousness,’ she continued, ‘I think it’s love.
’ A sigh echoed around the room. ‘I’ve had a long life filled with a lot of love, for which I thank my lucky stars every day.
I was blessed with the most wonderful husband.
He loved me and took care of me from the moment we met, until the day he died.
And we were blessed with the best son we could have ever wished for, our dear Noel.
I could never have asked for a kinder, more loving son.
Thank you, darling.’ She looked over to where Noel was standing and blew him a kiss.
‘What about us, Nanny Dotty?’ came the small voice of William’s eldest, six-year-old Lucy, from the corner of the room. Everyone laughed and Dotty wiped away trickles of laughter.
‘And you too, darling, I was saving the most important till last! I am so fortunate to have my wonderful grandchildren and great-grandchildren here; my dearest Annabel, William and his Sarah, and their cheeky little monkeys, Lucy and Aiden. I love you all, thank you for being my family.’ Dotty smiled out at her guests and gave a slight bow to show that she had finished, prompting rapturous applause and cheers from around the room.
Noel stepped forward next and motioned for quiet. ‘How to follow that?’ he joked. He started by echoing Dotty’s thanks to everyone for coming, to the Lord Lieutenant for making it such a special occasion and to the caterers, who were now busy setting up the buffet on the patio.
‘And now comes the hard part, how on earth can I do justice to a hundred years of my wonderful mum in just a few minutes?’ An encouraging chuckle murmured around the room.
‘All I can say is thank you, Ma. You have been our family’s rock and mainstay through the years, through all the ups and downs.
And not just for us, but here in the village you have been a stalwart of the community.
Never one to let the grass grow under your feet, you’ve always got involved, whether it was the bowling club, the WI, the church rotas, the keep-fit club or the Cancer Research committee.
I know from all the cards you’ve received today – as well as all the guests here – that you are very much loved and very much appreciated. ’
Dotty’s eyes glistened with pride as a murmur of agreement echoed around the room. Several voices called out, ‘Hear, hear!’
‘Ma, you’ve made our family what it is. You talked about love, but it was you who showed us how to love.
You and Pa – God rest his soul – have been the best parents I could have ever wished for.
I am truly blessed to call you my mum. A mere “thank you” seems so inadequate, but I mean it with all my heart. ’
Dotty’s eyes welled up again and she reached up to take his hand in hers. Noel raised it to his lips and kissed it tenderly.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Noel continued, dabbing at his own unshed tears, ‘Please raise your glasses. To my wonderful Ma . . . To Dotty!’
‘To Dotty!’ cheered the guests as they toasted the birthday girl.