Cornwall
The sharp wind whipped across Phoebe’s face as the horse and cart took her along the clifftop lane towards Jocasta Chambers’ home. The sound of crashing waves somewhere below was loud already but it was dusk and misty, so she was unable to see much of any view. Although she had only left Archie that morning, Phoebe was aching all over and felt like she hadn’t seen him in days. It had been torment to part from him at the train station in London, but now that she was in Cornwall Phoebe was determined to make the most of her time. She was going to relish the peace, take time to rest and enjoy as much of the fresh sea air as possible.
‘This is you,’ the driver said with a sideways nod of his head as he pulled on the reins to bring the horse to a halt. ‘You need me to lift your bag down to you?’
‘No, thank you, it’s fine.’ Phoebe climbed down carefully and picked up her bag from the cart. ‘Thanks for the lift.’ She took a few pennies from her change purse and reached up to place them in his hand.
‘No problem, Missy. Mrs Chambers will be at home. Probably putting the babby to bed.’
‘Right,’ Phoebe said, wondering how he might know. ‘Thank you.’
She watched him start to leave and turned. Opening the metal gate, she stood at the end of the short pathway and stared up at the cream-coloured terraced house. She shivered as a thick mist rolled in over the lane and hurriedly walked up the path to the front door. Taking hold of her coat collar, she turned it up so that it was slightly higher around her neck. Phoebe found the bell pull by the front door and grabbed hold of it. Then, remembering that the driver had mentioned a sleeping baby, she let go and knocked lightly on the wooden door, hoping Mrs Chambers would hear her.
Moments later she heard footsteps hurrying along wooden floorboards and the door opened to reveal a young woman, only a few years older than her, she supposed. Jocasta had a pretty, red-cheeked face. She was slightly plump and gave the overall impression when she smiled of being friendly. Phoebe instantly relaxed, relieved to be staying with someone who appeared to have a cheery disposition.
‘You’re here,’ Jocasta said, stepping back and waving for Phoebe to enter the hallway. ‘Quickly, come in out of the cold. I’m Jocasta Chambers,’ she said, closing the door behind Phoebe and dragging a heavy green velvet curtain across the doorway. ‘We need this kept closed to keep out the worst of the cold,’ she explained. ‘The winds can become particularly ferocious in the winters.’ She looked Phoebe up and down. ‘It’s good to meet you, Phoebe.’ Her expression changed to one of concern. ‘I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. I should ask if you’re happy with me addressing you by your Christian name, before I do it.’
Phoebe shook her head. ‘I don’t mind at all. In fact, I’m happy not to stand on ceremony here.’ She sent a grateful thought to Geoffrey Sutherland for inviting her to this lovely home. ‘I have enough of that at the hospital in France.’
‘Yes, I can imagine.’ Jocasta pointed to Phoebe’s coat and hat. ‘Leave your case near the door for now. You must be exhausted, and I think the first thing we need to do is to get you to take off that damp hat and coat and get you warmed up. The kitchen’s the best place for that, if you’re happy to sit in there. It’s always the warmest room in the house.’
Phoebe felt much happier already. ‘That sounds perfectly lovely,’ she said. She followed Jocasta along the passageway and into a large kitchen with a range taking up half of one wall, a well-scrubbed pine table surrounded by chairs in the middle of the room, and a highchair next to one of the end chairs.
‘Please, take a seat,’ Jocasta said. ‘I’ll make us some tea. I’ve not long put the baby down in her crib.’ She peered at Phoebe. ‘I imagine you must be hungry.’
‘I am rather,’ she said, realising for the first time that she was.
‘It’s just a stew, I’m afraid. Nothing fancy. I hope that’s all right for you. Beef, with lots of vegetables and potatoes.’ She smiled as she lifted the pot onto the top of the range. A delicious aroma filled the room and Phoebe breathed it in. Her stomach grumbled in response. ‘Gosh. Sorry about that. I appear to be even hungrier than I had thought.’
Jocasta giggled. ‘I am a little, too. I didn’t want you to eat alone, so I waited.’ She breathed in the rich scent. ‘It does smell rather good, doesn’t it? One of my better efforts, I think.’
Phoebe didn’t like to say that anything Jocasta presented to her now would taste better than the food at the hospital, but she was almost certain of it. ‘I’m sure it’s perfectly delicious.’
‘My brother has given me strict instructions to take very good care of you.’ Jocasta placed the lid back on the pot and turned to Phoebe.
‘I’m sure he has. He’s a very thoughtful and caring man.’
Jocasta smiled proudly. ‘I’m glad. You know, I still find it strange to think of him as a proper doctor. I’m not sure why, because that’s all he’s ever wanted to be. Apart from a fisherman, but that was when he was a little boy.’
‘He’s an incredible surgeon,’ Phoebe said. ‘One of our best, so I’m told. He’s not long been with the hospital but already everyone I know really likes him.’ She smiled as Jocasta placed a mug of tea onto the table near her. ‘Thank you.’ She cupped the mug with her hands, relishing the heat. ‘I hadn’t realised how thirsty I was either.’ She wished the tea wasn’t so hot and that she could start drinking it immediately.
‘And cold, I imagine,’ Jocasta said, sitting opposite Phoebe with her own cup of tea. ‘You have a little time before that cools enough for you to drink it and before the stew is piping hot. You could go upstairs and settle in, if you’d like.’ She studied her for a moment. ‘In fact, I should have really thought to offer to show you around first.’
‘It’s fine,’ Phoebe said, not wishing her hostess to feel badly, especially when she had been so welcoming. ‘I’m just happy to be inside this pretty, warm house.’ She looked around the cosy kitchen with its pans hanging near the range, plates stacked neatly in a rack on a wall by the sink, and a small crystal vase with a single pink rose standing in it in the middle of the table.
‘That’s my last rose of the year,’ Jocasta explained. ‘I wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible, so cut it and brought it inside where I spend most of my time.’
‘It’s beautiful.’ She looked around the room that felt like a comforting blanket somehow. ‘This is such a welcoming room.’
Jocasta beamed at her. ‘I’m so glad you think so.’ She jumped up. ‘I should offer you a biscuit while you wait for your supper to heat up.’
Phoebe was about to politely decline the offer when her stomach rumbled loudly once again. Both women laughed. ‘I think I’d like one very much.’
‘Good,’ Jocasta giggled, getting up and fetching a tin from one of the two cupboards. Taking the lid off, she set it down on the table. ‘There’s really no need to stand on ceremony here.’ She pushed the tin closer towards Phoebe. ‘They’re only plain. I baked them earlier today, so they’re fresh.’
‘Thank you,’ Phoebe said, taking one, breaking it and popping a piece into her mouth. The sweet, vanilla flavour was delicious and she closed her eyes as she ate the rest. ‘My, you’re an incredible baker,’ she said, even happier to have taken Doctor Sutherland up on his offer now that she had tasted some of Jocasta’s baking.
‘Do have another one.’
Phoebe shook her head and raised her hand in refusal. ‘I’d love one, but don’t wish to ruin my appetite. Thanks anyway. Maybe tomorrow.’
‘I’m so happy you like them. I do too.’ She took a sip of her tea and placed the cup back down on its blue-and-white saucer. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy having you to stay very much, Phoebe.’
‘I think so too. I’m so glad I wasn’t too shy to take your brother up on his kind offer.’
They smiled at each other and Phoebe wondered if she had made a new friend. She hoped so.
* * *
In the end they didn’t go upstairs until after Phoebe had helped Jocasta wash the supper dishes. Phoebe followed Jocasta up the stairs, trying to take in the paintings as she went.
‘These are beautiful,’ she said, stopping in front of one of a woman holding a baby, sitting at a table in front of a colourful flower border.
‘My husband Ronnie painted those,’ she said, a catch in her gentle voice. ‘He loved to paint.’ She stared at the painting for a few seconds before leading the way to the landing.
‘So this is your baby?’
‘It’s the baby he imagined us having,’ Jocasta explained. ‘Ronnie didn’t live to see our baby.’
Phoebe didn’t have a chance to hide her confusion before Jocasta noticed. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand.’
‘Ronnie painted this picture, intending to update the baby’s face after she was born. This is your bedroom here,’ Jocasta said, changing the topic by pushing open a door to the left. ‘It overlooks the cliffs.’ She turned to Phoebe. ‘I hope that’s all right with you. I love the view, but my room is slightly larger and fits baby Bryony’s cot in better. It also overlooks the garden and is a quieter room. Although we don’t have many vehicles coming past the house, when they do, the wooden wheels on the carts can be rather noisy, as can the occasional motor vehicle that comes this way.’
‘I’m happy anywhere,’ Phoebe said honestly. She recalled the large shed that was their dormitory at the hospital in France, with its uncomfortable camp beds and tiny amount of space for anything personal, and doubted that any room in this pretty house could be worse than what she had grown accustomed to, living there.
She followed Jocasta into the room, which had pretty floral wallpaper, a small double bed, a wash stand with bowl, ewer and towel hanging from a rail to the side of it, a bedside cabinet and double wardrobe. ‘It’s wonderful.’
Jocasta’s free hand went to rest on her chest. ‘Do you really think so?’
‘Yes, I do. I’m going to be very happy staying here. Thank you so much for allowing me to come, I really do appreciate your kindness.’
Jocasta placed the lamp onto the deep windowsill. ‘I’m so happy to hear you say so,’ she said. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve welcomed anyone into my home. I was concerned I might have forgotten how to entertain properly.’
Phoebe placed her bag onto the rug that was taking up most of the wooden floor. ‘I can’t wait until tomorrow morning when I can go exploring a bit and see what the area is like. I know I can hear the sea but I couldn’t see anything really when I arrived, because it was too misty out there.’
‘It’s very dramatic, but beautiful,’ Jocasta said, staring out of the window despite it being pitch black. ‘I should close these for you.’ She lifted the lamp and placed it on the bedside table, then drew the curtains. ‘I’ll leave you to settle in,’ she said, walking over to the door. ‘Please help yourself to anything from the kitchen whenever you need it. The bathroom is along the corridor at the back of the house. My bedroom door is the one opposite this one.’
‘Thank you very much, Jocasta. I’m going to be very comfortable here.’
‘I hope you are.’ She looked at the fireplace. ‘If you’d like to light a fire, please do. I can bring up some kindling and logs for you. I’m afraid we’re low on coal thanks to the war, but we do have a store of chopped wood outside the back in the garden that my brother chopped for me on his last visit here. Or help yourself to water, or tea, or whatever you can find.’
‘I’ll be fine, thank you,’ Phoebe said, wanting to reassure her. She had already been well cared for and all she really wanted to do was get into bed and unleash the emotion she had had to hold back since bidding farewell to Archie hours before.
‘Then I’ll say good night.’ Jocasta reached the door and turned back. ‘I’ll try not to wake you. I imagine you’ll need a lie-in on your first day.’ She held the door handle. ‘Come down whenever you’re ready and I’ll see you then.’
‘Good night, Jocasta.’
Finally, she was alone. For a moment all Phoebe could think to do was sit on the bed and try to take in the pretty bedroom. Her mind whirred with all that had happened in the past fifteen hours. This time yesterday she was in France dealing with patients in pain, and constant arrivals of mud-soaked men. Now she was sitting here, the only sound being the noise of waves crashing against cliffs somewhere nearby. It was so different and so peaceful, and she knew she should be happy, but all she really wanted was to spend another five minutes with Archie, holding his hand and kissing him one last time.
She knew Archie was happy for her to be sent here for a rest, but Phoebe couldn’t imagine being able to make the most of her time here while he wasn’t with her. She had been scared that something would take him away from her and now it was her own injury that had separated them. She thought back to his reassurances that they would be together again and knew she could trust him. They would be together again. This was only a short holiday and maybe afterwards she could ask for a transfer to the hospital in Sussex where she could help take care of Archie during his stay.