A Cornish Stranger by Liz Fenwick

the moment. Her mobility had reduced so much this year.
    Hannah, who’d been talking to friends, walked back to them. ‘Thanks again for your help today. It was really cool singing with you.’
    â€˜No problem.’ Gabe rubbed her palms against her jeans. She shouldn’t have sung. But it wouldn’t happen again.
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    Three
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    J aunty looked up from the page. Sunlight no longer hit the desk. It wasn’t too hard to think back in time and to write it down. She only wished her thoughts would follow chronologically, but she had no control over them. She sighed and considered the river. It changed, yet it didn’t. Each minute the water level altered, making the landscape appear transformed but it remained a sunken valley flooded by the sea and marked by the tides. The river was with her, but Alex was not. Was he ever? Had she imagined it all? What was real and what was a lie?
    Glancing across the room Jaunty saw the lunch plate that Gabriella had made up for her before she’d left. Dearest Gabriella – she always thought ahead. In fact, sometimes she was far too practical for someone so artistic. She was an odd mix of her parents.
    Why couldn’t Jaunty remember Gabriella’s age? Jaunty hated that some things were slipping away, but other things remained as if branded on her skin. Yes, she wanted to hold on to Alex, but there was so much she wanted to forget about that time and those things had never left her.
    I met Alex through his sister, Rebecca. I was at Cheltenham with her and once, when my parents were in New York, I spent a holiday with her family. I remember little of the week except for Alex. He was in his final year at Oxford and was home only for the weekend. We were beneath his notice, or so I thought until my shy glances met his knowing look. With hindsight, I realise that, in truth, he was actually far more innocent than I. My breath still catches when I think of the first time he held me. It was months later at a ball. We waltzed but I can’t recall which one, or even the music, and yet I can taste the frustration of being close, but not nearly close enough. His eyes hinted at desire and I knew then that my future lay with him.
    It was another year before I saw him again. It was on the King’s Road in London and I was very distracted. The talk of war was everywhere and so were uniforms, and I wasn’t looking where I was going when I bumped into a man in one. Alex.
    Jaunty stretched. Gabriella doesn’t need to know this, she thought. She leaned back into the chair, feeling the wooden uprights press into the thin skin of her back. Alex. Everything changed that day.
    â€˜Well, hello.’ Alex steadies me with both hands.
    â€˜Alex!’ I blink, noting how the uniform hugs his broad shoulders and that his hands have remained on my arms.
    â€˜How wonderful to see you.’ He steps back and I feel myself flush as he takes in my crazy apparel. ‘I’m on my way to meet Rebecca for tea. You must come.’
    I open my mouth to say no, but he grabs my hand and I know I would follow him anywhere. Grandmother Penrose will be furious when I don’t appear for tea but I don’t care. Alex is holding my hand.
    The phone rang. Jaunty put the pen down and stretched. Who would be calling? Probably Gabriella, to check on her. It was on the fifth ring by the time Jaunty reached it, and the line was dead. It was so infuriating. The newspaper sat on the kitchen table. Gabriella must have walked to the shop this morning. Jaunty read the headlines. The news was not good, but then it never was. The names changed but the content didn’t. At least now there wasn’t a war in Europe. That had dominated too much of her life and altered its course – and she was following it until the bitter end.
    She walked back to the sitting room, which was filled with a soft golden light. The lugger she’d seen