Page 19 of New Beginnings At Pencarrow Bay

Paul gave her an appraising stare, making the heat rise to her cheeks.

She felt suddenly self-conscious about her appearance: knowing looks carried such a premium in his and Sienna’s world.

She never usually worried about such things, just hoped she was wearing well enough for her age.

Ted said he adored her large hazel eyes, told her she had a gorgeous mouth.

She did pride herself a little on her smooth, clear skin– which she’d always looked after, Granny Maud drumming skincare into her almost daily as she handed out brimmed hats and sunscreen to the reluctant teenage Peggy.

And she counted herself lucky that her thick dark-auburn hair had, for reasons of heredity she assumed– her father had kept his colour into old age– not yet gone grey.

Now, to cover her blushes– and because it looked yummy– she, too, looked at the tray Paul offered and prised out a piece of cake.

‘Sit,’ Paul offered, shifting along the bench and stowing the cake tray on the ground by his feet– which were bare beneath his faded jeans. ‘You’re a teacher, right?’

She nodded, marvelling yet again at the village grapevine: someone she had only seen in passing already knew the details of her life. It felt sort of cosy, as if she were part of something she felt was in touching distance, but which she hadn’t yet grasped.

‘You know Sienna’s setting up this forest school? It’ll be in that wooded area, up by the water tower. You can’t see the building from the road, but it’s almost finished now. Opening for the September term if all goes well. If you’re interested, I know she needs people.’

Peggy straightened, heart jumping. ‘A forest school?’ She was aware this was an ill-defined term in teaching circles– some saw it as more of an adventure club– but that it was essentially learning in a woodland setting, building confidence and exploring the natural environment.

Whatever it was in Sienna’s terms, it would be with children. It would be teaching.

Paul nodded.

‘That’s very exciting. Well, yes, I’m definitely interested.’ She felt a huge spike of hope. This is exactly what I need . Something to make her feel useful, something that would give her life purpose again. Paul handed her his phone and she typed in her number.

‘I’ll get Sienna to call you.’

She thanked him and they all subsided into an easy silence.

‘Thought solar panels would protect you from power cuts?’ Quentin suggested, through a mouthful of cake, gazing up at the barn roof.

‘Yeah, me too. Sienna tries to explain about battery storage and such like– she’s the planet-saviour in the family– but I’m afraid I’m bone-headed about the mechanics of life. Bit of a thickerton at school.’

Quentin scoffed. ‘You sell yourself short, my friend.’ Swallowing a mouthful of cake, he added, ‘Rory and I were wondering… are you planning another movie night? Last year’s was such a success.

’ Paul, a film nut, had arranged and sponsored a drive-in screening of The Wizard of Oz in the castle car park the previous summer, to everyone’s delight.

Paul nodded. ‘Yeah, thought I might. Fancied Some Like It Hot . Although Lindy favours Gone With the Wind . What’s your vote?’ He was asking Peggy.

‘Oh, Marilyn all day long.’

‘Never say no to a quick swoon over Clark’s dashing moustache,’ Quentin mused. ‘But Lindy and I have made a sacred oath never to agree on anything, so I’ll plump for Monroe too, just to be ornery. “Nobody’s perfect,”’ he added, with a grin, quoting the final line of the film.

Paul looked at him askance. ‘Lindy’s such a lovely lady. Very supportive of village events, too.’

‘She is wonderful,’ Peggy agreed, but noticed Quentin raising his eyebrows, just a little. He didn’t comment.

‘Right,’ said Quentin, after they’d chatted for a while and he’d consumed another large chunk of ginger cake.

‘We should hit the road, my lovely. Please thank your dear ma for the delicious cake,’ he said to Paul, as he waved them off.

‘And put in a request for some of those killer lamb patties when the panels spring to life again.’

‘So have you fallen for our ageing rock star?’ Quentin enquired mischievously as soon as they were out of earshot. By Peggy’s reckoning, Paul couldn’t have been more than mid-forties.

She grinned, but was not to be diverted. ‘I noticed you didn’t agree when Paul said Lindy was lovely.’ She remembered Quentin’s touchiness with Lindy about the buggy, the first day Peggy met him. ‘Do you have some issue with her?’

Quentin, driving the buggy, said nothing for a while.

Then he pulled into the hedge on the pavement just past the haunted house– gates shut today– and swivelled in his seat until he was facing her.

His expression was hesitant, as if he was making up his mind as to how much to say. But he also seemed serious.

‘Look,’ he began, ‘it’s old news and I feel bad even thinking it.

Lindy is a good person and, to be honest, I do like her, and really admire her.

’ He let out a long sigh. ‘It’s just she did something a while ago and I’ve held on to it, stupidly perhaps, when I should have forgiven her.

It was really nothing so terrible. But it was a difficult time and feelings were running high in the village. ’

He stopped and Peggy waited while Quentin collected his thoughts.

Eventually he began to speak again. ‘You know about Teresa being caught up in the post-office scandal, obviously.’ He shook his head at the memory.

‘You probably don’t know Teresa– she hardly shows her face these days– but she’s a wonderful person: honest as the day is long, diligent, dedicated.

She loved her job. And when they came for her– actually searched her house, turned it upside down, if you please– she was, of course, utterly bewildered and devastated.

They made her pay fifteen thousand pounds she didn’t have and didn’t owe, sacked her, threatened her with prison.

It was, as you know, heinous, the whole thing. ’

Like everyone else, it made Peggy feel sick to contemplate what those innocent people had gone through– were still going through.

‘Anyway, the news had the village by the ears, of course. Three camps emerged. The first was the vast majority, those of us who didn’t believe Teresa capable of any such thing under any circumstances whatsoever.

The second were the ones who didn’t really know what to think.

You know the sort: feeble fence-sitters.

The third camp was the people– some of them so-called “friends” of Teresa, who began to whisper the no-smoke-without-fire mantra.

’ He took a few breaths, resumed the narrative.

‘Lindy was staunchly in Camp One, initially. We talked about it a lot together. But as time went by and Teresa wasn’t exonerated, she began to waver, say stuff about the facts looking damning, and maybe Teresa had taken her eye off the ball…

We are talking about the Post Office , I remember Lindy saying .

’ Quentin fidgeted in his chair and Peggy wondered if his back was paining him, sitting so long.

He straightened up, gave his shoulders a roll.

‘And the facts did look damning back then, Peggy, I’ll freely admit.

Even Rory and I had the conversation. But I just couldn’t believe it of Teresa.

I knew something must have gone horribly wrong somewhere.

’ Quentin waited to continue as a couple of sweaty, earnest walkers in vests and baseball caps, calves like Nelson’s Column– walked past clutching water bottles.

‘Anyway, Lindy and I argued. Fiercely. It wasn’t pleasant.

To be fair, she did come and apologize when the scandal broke.

But… well, the whole thing left bad blood between us. ’

‘Maybe she was just voicing what others didn’t dare to say,’ Peggy commented.

‘I’m sure she was. Anyway, the mood shifted around Teresa.

Certain people– not Lindy, of course– said hurtful things to her, called her names in the street.

I think at the time I unfairly conflated that cruel few with the position Lindy took.

But she wasn’t in any way to blame.’ He raised an eyebrow in a look of resignation.

She sensed it pained him to talk about it.

‘Maybe you should let it go now?’ she suggested.

Quentin smiled. ‘Maybe I should, my dear. Gordon was ill back then, too. Lots of chemo and catheters and suchlike. Lindy looked after him superbly. No stone left unturned in his care. I so admire her for that.’

‘Poor Lindy. She’s been through a lot,’ Peggy said, with real feeling, as much for what she was going through now as what she’d suffered in the past when her husband was ill.

Quentin must have heard something in her voice because he was eyeing her, a small frown on his craggy face. ‘You sound…’ He didn’t finish the sentence.

‘Shall we get going?’ Peggy said quickly. She had this sudden sense that Quentin, with his forensic brain, would somehow intuit what was going on in her head if she didn’t move.

‘I’m glad I told you,’ he said, as they went on down the hill. ‘These things have a habit of festering. Telling you today made me realize how petty I’ve been about Lindy.’