about you, Colenso? Do you have a mother to think of tomorrow?’ Mr Goss asked.
‘Mamm has made a new life for herself,’ she replied, obediently tucking into her egg. It was enjoyable and the first thing she’d really tasted since hearing the news about Kitto. ‘And we buried Mammwynn more than a year ago.’
‘We shall be going to visit Meggie’s grave tomorrow,’ Mr Goss said. He looked so sad and, wanting to make him feel better, Colenso held up her empty egg cup.
‘Thank you, that was delicious.’ Both men smiled. ‘Perhaps I could return the favour by cooking a meal for you tomorrow,’ she offered. After exchanging a look, they nodded.
✳
As spring flowers bloomed in the yard, so Colenso found herself slowly coming back to life. She’d never get over Kitto but, with Garren and his father’s help, she found herself taking an interest in things again.
One Sunday morning as she took herself into the workshop for breakfast, she found Garren opening a present.
‘Thank you, Father,’ he said, shaking out a moss-green jumper. ‘Just what I need,’ he grinned.
‘Happy birthday, Garren,’ Colenso said. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realize or I would have bought you something.’
‘Well, as it’s my birthday and the weather’s warm and sunny, why don’t we pack a picnic and walk along the beach until we find a sheltered spot? We’ve all been working hard and you haven’t been out anywhere in ages, Colenso. It will give me an opportunity to wear my new jumper,’ he added as she opened her mouth to protest.
‘That would be nice,’ she found herself saying.
‘What do you think, Father?’ Garren asked.
‘As you say, we’ve all been working hard and I’m feeling rather tired,’ he replied, yawning for good effect. ‘Think I’ll rest my eyes a while. You two go, though.’
The day was indeed sunny, although there was a breeze blowing so that Colenso was glad of her shawl, and Garren his smart new jumper. Taking a different street than she had before, they strolled down towards the seafront. The birds were singing, camellias and primroses bloomed, a tulip tree was in full bud, and Colenso found herself feeling if not happy, then almost content. Her heart wobbled as they passed the boats in the harbour but Garren quickly guided her through a little tunnel opposite the smelting works and onto the beach.
‘Shall we go barefoot?’ he asked, grinning mischievously. ‘We might even risk a paddle later if you want, although the sea will be perishing, oh …’ his voice trailed off.
‘Why not,’ she replied brightly, ignoring his faux pas as she perched on a rock to remove her shoes.
‘Love the colour,’ he grinned.
‘Mara, the lady who took me in, bought them for me. I didn’t know until after she passed,’ she explained, letting out a long sigh.
‘Poor Colenso, so much sadness,’ he said, patting her shoulder. ‘But today is my birthday and my wish is for you to relax and enjoy it with me. Come along, we’ll walk down St Michael’s Way. Have you been across to the Mount?’
‘Yes, I saw the sun rise there at Litha – or the summer solstice, as Mara called it.’ She let out another sigh, remembering how the woman had told her to make a romantic wish at the magic rock. A fat lot of good that had been, she thought.
‘Oh, ye of little faith.’ The words were so loud that for one moment Colenso thought Mara was at her side. She shook her head.
‘Life is full of memories,’ Garren murmured, staring out to sea. ‘Still, as you haven’t been out recently, we’ll not go as far as there today, just settle for a gentle amble.’
With the Mount ahead of them, they began walking, their toes sinking into the still cool sand. In the distance, she could see three large black lumps of rock.
‘That big one is Long Rock, for obvious reasons,’ he laughed. She stared at the elongated shape and smiled. They walked for another mile or so before Garren suggested stopping for their picnic. As they sat in the shelter of a cove, feasting on bread and cheese, they each began to open up about their past.
‘You mean Miss Chenoweth actually asked you to accompany her to a concert?’ she exclaimed.
‘Sinful, wasn’t it?’ he laughed. ‘And in the church hall as well. As soon as they moved next door, she made it plain she had plans, as she put it, to combine her epicurean establishment with my confectioners.’
‘You didn’t fancy the idea?’ Colenso asked, the reason for the woman’s increasing hostility towards her now becoming clear.
‘No fear. She’d have me wearing a starched collar and suit and offering my customers – or clientele, as she prefers to call them – violet and rose creams. Now, don’t misunderstand me, there’s nothing wrong with those confections but they’re hardly for children, which was her idea. Nasty, smelly little blighters is how she referred to them.’
‘But you love children,’ Colenso cried, recalling how patient he was with them.
‘Precisely,’ he nodded. ‘In fact, when I marry, it is my intention to raise a whole brood of them.’
‘And do you have anyone in mind?’ she asked. ‘Oh sorry, that was dreadfully rude.’
‘I did have but it turned out the woman I had in mind already had a follower.’ He said it lightly but was staring at her so earnestly, she had to turn away. ‘Of course, it’s much too soon for me to declare myself but maybe one day,’ he added quietly. ‘Now, come along, we’d best get back or Father will be wondering where we’ve got to.’ It could have been awkward on the walk back but he kept up such a flow of chatter about the sweets he was hoping to make for Easter that they were back outside the shop before she knew it.
‘I’ve had a lovely time,’ she told him, surprised to find that it was true. For a few hours at least, she had managed to put the tragedy out of her mind.
‘Me too. Perhaps we could repeat the experience,’ he replied.
As she lay in bed that night, she thought back over the day. Garren had been good company, undemanding but attentive, and she could enjoy spending more time with him as long as he realized she wasn’t ready to take things further.
For her heart belonged to Kitto, it always had, and although she’d accepted he was never coming back, she couldn’t envisage ever feeling the same about anyone else. In fact, she knew she wouldn’t.
‘Sun, sea and sweets, what more can tourists ask for?’ Garren asked as the door closed behind another gaggle of happy children clutching twists of confections in their hot little hands. It was early summer, and the warm weather and longer days had brought the visitors flocking to the seaside town.
‘Laughter and lollipops,’ Colenso replied.
‘Lollipops?’ he frowned, hazel eyes thoughtful.
‘You
