a day ago was becalmed in the creek and Jaunty could see the sailorâs dark curls and expanse of shoulders. Her breath caught. She could almost be eighteen again, the way her body yearned. It was funny how the mind played tricks. Alex was fair and he had been dead since June 1943. But there was something about the boat and the sailor . . .
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âJaunty, Iâm back.â Gabe put the shopping on the table and looked around. Her grandmother wasnât in her usual spot on the terrace or in the sitting room. Gabe dashed to the bedroom, hoping to find her napping, but the bed was empty. Jauntyâs mobility was limited, so where could she be? Running out of the cabin to the studio, Gabe nearly fell in her haste. She had been gone hours by the time sheâd picked up the things she needed from Helston. The studio was empty. Where could her grandmother have gone? She rushed along the path and found the gate was open. âJaunty?â she called. No answer.
Gabe moved forward, peering through the trees towards the creek. Some walkers stood aside. âHave you seen an old woman about?â she asked, but they shook their heads and Gabe raced on, leaping over exposed tree roots and avoiding the worst of the brambles covered with nearly ripe fruit. Where on earth could her grandmother be? She couldnât go far but she wasnât in any of the likely spots. Taking a deep breath and trying to think logically, Gabe walked down the small path to the creekâs edge and stepped on to the mud. The tide was on its way back into the creek but the foreshore was still exposed. The mud was treacherous in places, but she knew she was safe close to the trees. Her grandmother wouldnât be here, she told herself, and yet so often in the past she had found Jaunty down by the waterâs edge.
As she made her way past the old wreck that had been there for ever, she was even more certain that Jaunty couldnât have made it down the path to the water, beautiful though it was there and so peaceful. Seaweed dried on the rocks and hung from the low branches, and in the distance she could see the quay. With the tide out it was obvious where it needed to be repaired but it appeared mostly sound.
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âWhat on earth are you doing knee-deep in mud, Gabriella?â Jaunty read the mixed emotions displayed across Gabriellaâs face. She worried about so much. Jaunty could see the questions that Gabriella wanted to ask but didnât. She was so like her father and her grandfather in the way that she wouldnât pry. So unlike Jaunty herself, who would have dug and persisted until she found out what she wanted to know. Gabriella was too careful. She risked nothing, but she hadnât always been that way. When did it change? Even Philip, her cautious father, had never been that bad. Yes, he had married late, but at least he had found true love, however fleetingly.
âHow on earth did you get down here?â Gabriella pulled herself out of the mud and climbed the rusty ladder on to the quay.
âOn my bottom.â Jaunty shifted. It hadnât been dignified but it had worked, and the peace of listening to the water in the creek had been glorious.
âJaunty!â
âDonât Jaunty me. I can do as I like.â Jaunty knew she sounded like a toddler. This whole regression was awful. She uncrossed her arms and looked at her granddaughter, then turned from her intense stare. In the distance Jaunty could see Groyne Point and Merthen Wood, a beautiful and mystical ancient wood that had to be filled with fairies. It was, she believed, the only place left in the county where they could be safe. Once, many years ago, sheâd ventured on to the shore at low tide and tried to find a way through the cluster of trees, but she hadnât been able to penetrate more than a foot of the dense scrub and the tree cover was so thick the temperature dropped immediately. Goosebumps had covered her skin
Â
âJaunty, Iâm back.â Gabe put the shopping on the table and looked around. Her grandmother wasnât in her usual spot on the terrace or in the sitting room. Gabe dashed to the bedroom, hoping to find her napping, but the bed was empty. Jauntyâs mobility was limited, so where could she be? Running out of the cabin to the studio, Gabe nearly fell in her haste. She had been gone hours by the time sheâd picked up the things she needed from Helston. The studio was empty. Where could her grandmother have gone? She rushed along the path and found the gate was open. âJaunty?â she called. No answer.
Gabe moved forward, peering through the trees towards the creek. Some walkers stood aside. âHave you seen an old woman about?â she asked, but they shook their heads and Gabe raced on, leaping over exposed tree roots and avoiding the worst of the brambles covered with nearly ripe fruit. Where on earth could her grandmother be? She couldnât go far but she wasnât in any of the likely spots. Taking a deep breath and trying to think logically, Gabe walked down the small path to the creekâs edge and stepped on to the mud. The tide was on its way back into the creek but the foreshore was still exposed. The mud was treacherous in places, but she knew she was safe close to the trees. Her grandmother wouldnât be here, she told herself, and yet so often in the past she had found Jaunty down by the waterâs edge.
As she made her way past the old wreck that had been there for ever, she was even more certain that Jaunty couldnât have made it down the path to the water, beautiful though it was there and so peaceful. Seaweed dried on the rocks and hung from the low branches, and in the distance she could see the quay. With the tide out it was obvious where it needed to be repaired but it appeared mostly sound.
Â
âWhat on earth are you doing knee-deep in mud, Gabriella?â Jaunty read the mixed emotions displayed across Gabriellaâs face. She worried about so much. Jaunty could see the questions that Gabriella wanted to ask but didnât. She was so like her father and her grandfather in the way that she wouldnât pry. So unlike Jaunty herself, who would have dug and persisted until she found out what she wanted to know. Gabriella was too careful. She risked nothing, but she hadnât always been that way. When did it change? Even Philip, her cautious father, had never been that bad. Yes, he had married late, but at least he had found true love, however fleetingly.
âHow on earth did you get down here?â Gabriella pulled herself out of the mud and climbed the rusty ladder on to the quay.
âOn my bottom.â Jaunty shifted. It hadnât been dignified but it had worked, and the peace of listening to the water in the creek had been glorious.
âJaunty!â
âDonât Jaunty me. I can do as I like.â Jaunty knew she sounded like a toddler. This whole regression was awful. She uncrossed her arms and looked at her granddaughter, then turned from her intense stare. In the distance Jaunty could see Groyne Point and Merthen Wood, a beautiful and mystical ancient wood that had to be filled with fairies. It was, she believed, the only place left in the county where they could be safe. Once, many years ago, sheâd ventured on to the shore at low tide and tried to find a way through the cluster of trees, but she hadnât been able to penetrate more than a foot of the dense scrub and the tree cover was so thick the temperature dropped immediately. Goosebumps had covered her skin
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